The Abode of the Humble. (Homilies on St. Matthew, LXXII., Vol. Ii., P. 344.)
He who humbleth himself shall be exalted. Where shall we find this humility? Would you like to go once more to the abode of goodness, to the tents of the blessed, I mean, to the mountains and forests? For it is there that we shall see this perfection of humility. They are men, some famous for outward position, some for wealth, who humble themselves in every particular, in their food, in their dwelling, in their servants, and so in all their life they are writing the word humility as if with pen and ink. Just as smart dressing and a fine house and a large establishment are incentives to vainglory, which thrust men into it, often in spite of themselves, all these things are cut off in the desert. Those men light their own fire, hew their wood, do their own cooking, and themselves wait upon guests. Insult is neither given nor taken, no man is ruled, no man rules, but all are ministering. Each man washes the stranger’s feet, and there is much contention as to who shall do it. This he does, not seeking to find out who the stranger is, whether a slave or a free man; in each case he carries out this service. No man is either great or small. Is there confusion then? God forbid, it is rather the perfection of harmony. If, indeed, a man there be of small account, he who is great does not regard it, but deems himself inferior, and so becomes greater.
Both servers and served eat at one and the same table, have the same food, the same clothes, the same lodging, the same rule of life. He is great there who is eager over a lowly task. Mine and thine do not exist, and the thing itself, the cause of endless strife, has been banished. And why do you wonder that there is one rule, one table, and one dress for all, where there is one spirit in all, not according to the body only (for this is the case with all men), but according to charity? For how could charity ever be set against itself? Neither poverty nor riches are to be found there, neither fame nor disgrace. How, then, could folly or vainglory creep in? Some are great, some are little amongst the number according to a moral reckoning, but as I was saying, no one takes note of it. The weak man does not grieve as being despised, for there is no one to despise him. Even should anyone insult another, this is their principal training, bearing contempt and contumely and shabby treatment both in word and act; they live with the lowly and the maimed, for these are the guests of their repasts, and thus they are worthy of heaven. One dresses sores, another leads the blind, another supports the lame. There are neither flatterers nor parasites, or rather they do not even apprehend what flattery is. How, then, could they ever be puffed up? For a great equality reigns among them, consequently the contentedness produced by goodness. In this way the most wretched are better taught than by being obliged to give them the first places. Just as a meek man schools an impetuous man to lowliness, so does a man who makes no account of reputation, but despises it, teach the ambitious. This they do lavishly, for, in proportion as we fight over the first places, do they wrestle not to have them, but to be hindered; and their burning zeal is, not who shall be honoured, but who shall not be honoured. Moreover, their very works incline them to moderation, and do not tolerate vanity. For, tell me, how can a man who is tilling and watering and planting the earth, or plaiting baskets, or weaving a sack, or doing any other manual labour, ever think great things of himself? Who, that is living in poverty, and struggling with hunger, will be sick with this complaint? No man. Therefore their lowliness is well contented. And just as moderation is difficult here, through the crowd of flatterers and admirers, so is it perfectly easy there. They have only the desert before them: they see birds flying, and the breeze through the trees, and the soft wind blowing, and streams flowing through ravines. How, then, could a man living in so great a solitude be puffed up? Neither can we find any excuse, that, being in the thick of the fight, we think great things of ourselves. For Abraham, when in company of the Chananæns, said, I am dust and ashes, and David, in the din of arms, I am a worm and no man, and the Apostle in the midst of the world, I am not worthy to be called an apostle. Therefore, what shall we have to say for ourselves, if, even with these great examples before us, we are not sober? As they are worthy of a thousand crowns for being the first to walk upon the path of goodness, so do we deserve as many chastisements for not arriving at a like zeal, neither for the example of those who have departed hence and lie in their sepulchres, nor for the living who are wonderful through their deeds. What could you allege for not being converted? Are you unlettered, and have you not read the epitaphs so as to know the goodness of those men of old? This is indeed the chief point of accusation, the church being ever open, not to go in and partake of those pure waters. Besides, if you did not know the dead through their epitaphs, you should have had these living men before your eyes. ‘But if there was no one to point them out to us?’ Come with me and I will show you the dwelling-places of these holy ones: come and learn a useful lesson from them. They are shining lights throughout the world, they surround cities like strong walls. They have taken possession of deserts in order to teach you to look down upon worldly agitations. They, then, in this strength of theirs, are able to enjoy peace in the midst of the tempest: you, who are tossed about on all sides, should be at rest, and have a short breathing time from the ever rolling waves.