Homily 44 #

On Monday of the Fifth Week of the Fast: A spiritually beneficial tale by St. John Chrysostom about the present life, told in the form of a parable concerning a courtyard and a serpent.

Beloved, at all times the bishops, pastors, and leaders among us—shepherds of the divine Word—have labored diligently for our salvation through their preaching and instruction. I know that it is for our sake that the Lover of mankind tends us as a Shepherd, who once rebuked Moses in his anger, saying: “Thou art not the shepherd of My people, but I have made thee one for their sake.”

Him, therefore—even though we are unworthy—we call upon today, as the source of incorrupt gifts, who bestows freely and strengthens our weaknesses by His power, who enlightens our foolishness with His inexpressible wisdom and grace.

For when I reflect upon the first-created man, I am filled with wonder, and when I contemplate him, I tremble and fall into confusion. How was it that he, who was formed by the hand of God, who conversed with God, who was honored by His own hand, who was made worthy to dwell in Paradise and called by God to be master over all—how was it that he, for transgressing a single commandment, lost so many blessings?

In a single moment, he was stripped of all honor, glory, kingship, and every gift. He was cast out of Paradise and fell into the depth of poverty and passions.

Therefore, brothers, when I consider the single sin of disobedience, I fall into despair on account of our own many and numberless sins. Yet when I lift my thoughts to the thief on the cross and realize how he was saved by a single word—though he had been ruined by countless sins in one hour—I am moved to repentance with fervent heart. For the one fell through deed, but the other was saved through speech.

The former saw great and wondrous signs and still disobeyed the Creator; the latter saw no one at all but Christ alone—and even Him crucified—yet he believed in Him.

Great indeed is the difference between them, as great as the disparity between mind and the soul’s likeness to the body. The thief had no virtue to speak of, but he said only this: “Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.” (Luke 23:42)

Therefore, all who are disciples of Christ—have hope, and strive to have such faith, and work deeds of piety, that you may obtain salvation just as that thief did. For every person who has been baptized in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, and made worthy of communion with the Divine, is bound to follow this same path.

For the Holy Gospel says: “Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages.” (Luke 3:14) If you are wronged by anyone, endure it to the end. If someone smites you on the cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone compels you to go one mile, go with him two. (cf. Matthew 5:39–41)

And yet, when such things come from fellow believers, few among Christians are willing to endure them. But when the heavy yoke of the Ishmaelites came upon us, we heard of their cruelty and, though unwilling to endure it, we suffer it nonetheless.

If we had borne the afflictions that come from those of the same faith, we would have received a greater reward. But as it is, no one accepts even a second blow—indeed, not even one—but instead we ourselves dare to wrong others.

Every Christian ought always to repent before God for every sin, and not be deceived by the flattery of this vain life. But now attend closely with full attention, as I begin to explain the meaning of this parable I wish to set forth for your benefit.

Our life in this present world, beloved, may be likened to a man who moved into a courtyard with his wife, his only son, and a single servant. In that courtyard, however, was a deadly serpent. This man had often heard from others that the serpent killed everyone who entered the courtyard from the beginning. And so, pondering within himself, he said: “Either I will leave this courtyard, or I will kill the serpent.”

[Interpretation:] This represents the desire of avarice.

He went forth intending to slay the serpent, but on the way he found before it an Arabian gold coin. Taking it up, he said: “If this serpent wished to kill me, it would not have left this gold here. Perhaps it will even bring me more.” And so he did not kill it.

The next morning, returning, he found another gold coin and said to himself: “This serpent is not worthy of death, but of great honor.” So the serpent remained with him for a time, offering gold coins and doing him no apparent harm. The man rejoiced greatly, happy that he had not slain the serpent.

Now this man had a valuable horse. But the serpent came and bit the horse, and it died.

Interpretation: The courtyard is this present life. The serpent is the prince of this world—the cunning enemy who watches the heel of every person to strike him down. The gold coin is the deceitful lust that leads all into ruin. The venom of the serpent is sin, which seduces and kills, as the Apostle James says: “Lust, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.” (James 1:15)

Because of our sins, God chastens us—sending death even upon our livestock—to strike fear into us, that we might do righteousness and remain within His law. But if we begin to disregard it, even worse will befall us.

Now, seeing his horse dead, the man grieved and began to curse the courtyard and the serpent, saying to himself: “If this venomous serpent is capable of such death, we ought to kill it first—lest it kill us too.”

He went to kill it, but as usual, he found a gold coin. And he said: “Though the horse has died, why should I forfeit these daily coins? Even if the serpent killed my horse, it does no harm to a man.”

So he continued for a time, each day taking a coin and suffering no harm. But when the serpent saw that the man was no longer cautious, it came and bit his sleeping servant. The servant cried out in pain. The master came, and he cursed the serpent and the courtyard, and denounced his own foolishness.

Interpretation: Just so, we do not remember death when days are good. But when some trouble or illness comes, we fall apart, we curse this life, and make vows not to commit injustice anymore. Yet when the trouble or sorrow passes, we return again to our wicked deeds—worse even than before—living in prosperity and without sorrow, and having no fear of God’s judgment.

And just as the man, seeing his servant sick and unable to heal him, watched as the servant died, he finally resolved to kill the serpent. But when he came to the place, he again found a gold coin, took it—and, blinded by his lust for wealth, did not kill the serpent. He did not fear, in his folly, either God’s judgment or His chastisements.

Interpretation: So it is with us: in order to instruct us, God sometimes takes away our servants—that is, our dear ones—from us.

That man, living without sorrow, paid no heed to death. But one night, the serpent came and bit his son. The father began to wail over his son, beating his chest with his hands and crying out: “Alas!”—cursing the courtyard, and the serpent, and himself.

Interpretation: So it is with us. When our children begin to die—because of our injustices and the multitude of our sins—we begin for a brief moment to hate this life and say, “It would have been better never to have known life at all!” O, how bitter, brethren! If we see our children dying and still are not corrected, what then do we await? Let it be known: eternal torments await us, if we are not corrected by afflictions and chastisements.

When God became angry with Terah, the father of Abraham, He caused his son Haran to die, in order to correct the father. But he was not corrected—and perished himself. For in the earliest generations, sons did not die before their fathers. But as for us, even today, we weep bitterly over the dead, and tomorrow we again do injustice—having no fear of death.

When we follow the dead to the grave, we weep greatly, but once we leave, we return to drunkenness and idle talk.

Now the man, seeing his child wasting away, called a physician and pleaded with him to heal his son. And though the doctor labored much, he achieved nothing—and the child died. And the father swore in his great sorrow to finally kill the serpent, saying: “How long shall I be a fool and senseless, refusing to be corrected, to fear God, and to do righteousness?”

But shortly afterward, the serpent again began to bring him gold coins. And the man, grown careless, feared not God’s judgment, and lived without sorrow—because of his desire for wealth. Then the serpent came suddenly and bit his wife.

Interpretation: So too death comes like a thief—on a day we do not know, and at an hour we do not expect—and seizes us.

The woman cried out, and her husband came running, weeping and mourning. When their relatives and friends heard, they all gathered in sorrow. Once more, the man called a physician, promising to give much of his wealth if only his wife might be saved. The doctor worked hard, but was unable to help, and she died.

And so the man was left alone in his house, in deep sorrow. His friends and neighbors advised him in every way to kill the serpent, saying: “It will surely kill you as well.” So he went to the place, watching for a chance to slay it. And there he saw a fine and precious pearl. Taking it up, he rejoiced greatly—and forgot the deaths of his wife and son.

Interpretation: O, what foolishness and blindness! How the devil entices us with the lust of possessions—to deceive us through the vanity of this life, to rob us of salvation, and to cast us into the eternal fire! Just as a lure is set by the hunter to deceive fish, so too are we deceived by wealth and worldly glory.

Truly this world lives in deceit—ever misled by greed, always blind and deaf, forgetting the evils and disasters that have already come upon us.

And so the serpent made it summer, bringing him pearls every day. Seeing such abundance, the man rejoiced, and lived in ease without sorrow. But suddenly the serpent bit his leg, and he cried out in a loud voice. His relatives and friends ran to him, weeping and reproaching him for not having killed the serpent. They summoned doctors, but they achieved nothing.

When the man despaired of any human help, he turned to God, saying: “O Lord, grant me life just once more, that I may repent. I no longer desire to be deceived by this life. I will squander all I gathered by injustice, and from now on I will be concerned only with my salvation. I have now come to know the deceit of this world.”

He called upon the saints who had pleased God from of old, and promised to give much of his wealth in alms. And the Lord heard him and granted him life—and the man became healthy again. But he forgot his vow and oath, which he had made to God.

Interpretation: Behold, brethren, a vow without fruit, and the emptiness of promises made under delusion. For such are we all: when sorrow or illness comes upon us, we promise to do good. But when the sorrow passes, and we live again in prosperity and without pain, we return to wickedness, not fulfilling even a little of what we had promised to God in our affliction.

That man, having recovered his health, once again returned to his former ways and vanities, receiving pearls every day and saying to himself: “Return unto thy rest, O my soul.” (Psalm 116:7)

And as he once more lived without sorrow, the serpent came and bit him in the hand. His whole family and friends gathered to him again, and many heaped reproaches and scorn upon him, saying: “Upon you is fulfilled that which was spoken by the Prophet: ‘When He slew them, then they sought Him; and they returned and enquired early after God. Nevertheless they did flatter Him with their mouth, and they lied unto Him with their tongues.’” (Psalm 78:34,36)

Then the man, lying ill, began to say: “O Lord my God, Thou knowest that I have lied to Thee, and have not kept my vow. But have mercy on me yet again and heal me, O Lord, and I will never again turn away from the promise I made.”

And once more the merciful Lord listened to him and granted him life. But after that, in times of prosperity and abundance, he again began to grow careless, and gradually returned to his former habits—being deceived by the desire to acquire wealth, grasping it with miserly hands, and failing to fulfill his vow. Living in comfort, he counted his gold and silver daily, adding to it, rejoicing in abundance, and giving no thought to death—thinking only of gathering more.

He did not remember the One who said: “Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee; then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?” (Luke 12:20)

And so, while he yet lived, the serpent came suddenly and struck him in the heart. As he cried out, his neighbors and relatives came running. They reproached him bitterly for his folly, saying: “You were chastened many times, yet you would not be corrected!” He showed them the pearls and gold he had gathered, but they said to him: “You were deceived. All this will pass to others, while you have angered God and lost your soul.”

Then the man again began to pray, saying: “O my Lord, O my God, have mercy on me one more time. Raise me from this illness, and I will never lie to Thee again.” Many physicians were summoned, but none were able to help.

Interpretation: For who can help if God does not help? All healing is in vain if God does not heal.

And so the foolish man died a bitter death, leaving behind much wealth unjustly acquired. His family and friends lamented his wretched end.

Interpretation: O brethren, this is what we all are like. Who among us has not repented over the deceitfulness of this life—whether during illness, or suffering violence from rulers, or being attacked by thieves, or drowning, or in any other misfortune? At such times we make vows to God. But when God delivers us from all evil, we forget—and return to worse than before.

There are some who, for the sake of great possessions, destroy their own souls; others gather wealth through sinful means, and in so doing, destroy their souls through the fulfillment of wicked deeds.

O brethren! Even if we had never seen a dead man, but only heard that a word had gone out from God declaring that not all must die, but only one person from each generation—surely each of us would live in fear of death! Or if we were wandering in the wilderness and heard that every night a serpent comes and devours one person—would we not all take great care?

But we, like fools, though we know clearly that we are mortal, live in deception and have no fear of death.

Let us, therefore, while we still have time, take thought for the salvation of our souls.

To our God be glory, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.