Homily on Thanksgiving
by St. Basil the Great
1. You have heard the words of the Apostle, in which he addresses the
Thessalonians, prescribing rules of conduct for every kind of person. His
teaching, to be sure, was directed towards particular audiences; but the benefit
to be derived therefrom is relevant to every generation of mankind. Rejoice
evermore, he says; Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks (I
Thessalonians 5:16-18). Now, we shall explain a little later on, as far as we
are able, what it means to rejoice, what benefit we receive from it, and how it
is possible to achieve unceasing prayer and give thanks to God in all things.
However, it is necessary to anticipate the objections that we encounter from
our adversaries, who criticize the Apostles injunctions as unattainable. For
what is the virtue, they say, in passing ones life in gladness of soul, in
joy and good cheer night and day? And how is it possible to achieve this,
when we are beset by countless unexpected evils, which create unavoidable
dejection in the soul, on account of which it is no more feasible for us to
rejoice and be of good cheer than for one who is being roasted on a gridiron not
to feel agony or for one who is being goaded not to suffer pain?
And perhaps there is someone among those who are standing among us here who
is ailing with this sickness of the mind and makes excuses in sins (Psalm 140:4,
Septuaginta), and who, through his own negligence in observing the
commandments, attempts to transfer the blame to the law-giver for laying down
things that are unattainable. How is it possible for me always to rejoice,
he may ask, when I have no grounds for being joyous? For the factors that
cause rejoicing are external and do not reside within us: the arrival of a
friend, long-term contact with parents, finding money, honors bestowed on us by
other people, restoration to health after a serious illness, and everything else
that makes for a prosperous life: a house replete with goods of all kinds, an
abundant table, close friends to share ones gladness, pleasant sounds and
sights, the good health of our nearest and dearest, and whatever else gives them
happiness in life. For it is not only the pains that befall us which cause us
distress, but also those that afflict our friends and relatives. It is from all
of these sources, therefore, that we must garner joy and cheerfulness of soul.
In addition to these things, when we have occasion to see the downfall of
our enemies, wounds inflicted on those who plot against us, recompense for our
benefactors, and, in general, if no unpleasant circumstance whatsoever that
would disturb our life is either at hand or expected, only then is it possible
for joy to exist in our souls. How is it, therefore, that a commandment has been
given to us that cannot be accomplished by our own choice, but depends on other
antecedent factors? How am I to pray without ceasing, when the needs of the body
necessarily attract the attention of the soul to themselves, given that the mind
cannot attend to two concerns at the same time?
2. And yet, I have been commanded to give thanks in everything. Am I to
give thanks when I am strapped to a rack, tortured, stretched out on a wheel,
and having my eyes gouged out? Am I to give thanks when I am beaten with
humiliating blows by one who hates me? When I am stiff from the cold, perishing
from hunger, tied to a tree, suddenly bereft of my children, or deprived even of
my very wife? If I lose my wealth as a result of a sudden shipwreck? If I run
into pirates on the sea, or brigands on the mainland? If I am wounded,
slandered, wander around, or dwell in a dungeon?
Raising these objections, and more besides, our adversaries find fault with
the lawgiver, thinking that, by slandering the precepts that we have been given
as impossible to fulfill, they furnish themselves with a defense for their own
sins. What, therefore, shall we say in response to them?
That, while the Apostle is looking elsewhere and attempting to elevate our
souls from the earth to the heights and to transport us to a heavenly way of
life, they, unable to attain to the loftiness of the lawgivers mind, and
preoccupied with the earth and the flesh, crawl around in the passions of the
body like worms in a swamp and demand that the Apostle issue precepts which are
capable of being fulfilled. For his part, the Apostle summons not just anyone,
but one who is as he was to rejoice always, no longer living in the flesh, but
having Christ living in himself, since union with the highest good does not in
any way allow sympathy for the demands of the flesh (cf. Galatians 2:20).
And even if an incision is made in the flesh, the disintegration occasioned by
its continued presence remains in the part of the body that suffers it, since
the pain is unable to spread to the noetic part of the soul. For, if, in
accordance with the Apostles precept, we have mortified our members which are
upon the earth (Colossians 3:5) and we bear in the body the dying of the Lord
Jesus (II Corinthians 4:10), necessarily the injury suffered by the mortified
body will not reach the soul which has been freed from contact with the body.
Dishonor, losses, and deaths of our nearest and dearest will not rise up to the
mind, nor will they incline the sublimity of the mind to sympathy with things
below. For, if those who fall into difficulties have the same attitude as the
virtuous man, they will not cause annoyance to anyone, seeing that not even they
themselves endure sorrowfully what befalls them; but if they live according to
the flesh (Romans 8:13), not even in this way will they annoy anyone, but will
be reckoned pitiable, not so much because of their circumstances, as because
they do not choose to react properly.
In short, a soul which has once and for all been held fast by the desire for
its Creator and is accustomed to delighting in the beauties of the heavenly
realm will not alter its great joy and cheerfulness under the influence of
carnal feelings, which are varying and unstable; but things which distress other
people it will regard as increasing its own gladness. Such was the Apostle, who
took pleasure in infirmities, in afflictions, in persecutions, and in
necessities, counting his needs an occasion for glorying (II Corinthians
12:9-10); in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, in persecutions and
distresses (II Corinthians 12:10; 11:27), conditions in which others endure only
with difficulty, bidding farewell to life: in these he rejoiced. Therefore,
those who are ignorant of what the Apostle has in mind, and do not understand
that he is calling us to the evangelical way of life, dare to accuse St. Paul of
laying down things that are impossible for us. Well then, let them learn how
many legitimate occasions for rejoicing are made available to us through Gods
munificence. We were brought from non-being into being; we were made in the
image of the Creator (Genesis 1:27); we have the mind and reason to perfect our
nature, and through them we have knowledge of God. And perceiving the beauties
of nature carefully, we thereby recognize, as if through letters, God's great
providence and wisdom concerning all things. We are capable of discerning good
and evil; we are taught by nature itself to choose what is beneficial and to
avoid what is harmful. Having been estranged from God through sin, we have been
called back to kinship with Him, being released from ignominious slavery by the
blood of His Only-begotten Son. We have the hope of resurrection, the enjoyment
of Angelic goods, the Kingdom of Heaven, and promised goods, which transcend the
grasp of mind and reason.
3. How is it not proper to think that these things are sufficient reasons for
unending joy and unceasing gladness? How is it proper to suppose that one who is
a glutton, who delights in hearing flute-playing, and who lies on a soft bed and
snores, is living a life worthy of joy? I would say that such people are worthy
of lamentation on the part of those who are endowed with intelligence, whereas
we should call blessed those who endure the present life in the hope of the age
to come and who exchange present joys for eternal joys. Whether they stand amid
flames, as did the three Youths in Babylon, who were united with God (Daniel
3:21), or are shut up with lions (Daniel 6:16-23), or swallowed by a whale
(Jonah 2:1), we should call them blessed, and they should pass their lives in
joy, not being distressed over present sufferings, but rejoicing in the hope of
what is in store for us in the next life. For, in my opinion, a good athlete,
once he has stripped down for the arena of piety, should valiantly endure the
blows of his adversaries in hope of the glory that comes from crowns of victory.
Indeed, in gymnastic contests, those who have become inured to pain in wrestling
schools are not depressed at the prospect of suffering pain from blows, but
advance to close quarters with their foes, disdaining momentary pains in their
desire to be publicly proclaimed victors. Thus, even if some misfortune befalls
a virtuous man, it will not cast a shadow over his joy. For tribulation
worketh patience, and patience, experience, and experience, hope; and hope
maketh not ashamed (Romans 5:3-5). Hence, in another place, Saint Paul
enjoins us to be patient in tribulation and to rejoice in hope (Romans 12:12).
It is hope, therefore, that makes joy to dwell within the soul of a virtuous
man. But the same Apostle bids us weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15); and,
writing to the Galatians, he wept over the enemies of the Cross of Christ
(Philippians 3:18). And what need have I to speak of the tears of Jeremiah
(Lamentations), of Ezekiel writing lamentations over the rulers of Israel, at
Gods command (Ezekiel 2:9), or of many other Saints who mourned? Alas, my
mother, that thou hast borne me (Jeremiah 15:10); Woe is me, for the godly
man hath perished from the earth, and there is none among men that ordereth his
way aright (Micah 7:2); Woe is me, for I am become as one gathering straw
in the harvest (Micah 7:1).
So, in a word, scrutinize the sayings of the righteous, and when anywhere you
find one of them emitting a rather doleful expression, you will be convinced
that all who are of this world bemoan the misery of the life that is led
therein. Woe is me, for my sojourning is prolonged (Psalm 119:5, Septuaginta).
For the Apostle has a desire to depart, and to be with Christ (Philippians
1:23). He is, therefore, vexed at the prolongation of this earthly sojourn as an
impediment to his joy. David, too, bequeathed to us a lamentation in song for
his friend Jonathan, in which he also mourned for his enemy: I am grieved for
thee, my brother Jonathan (II Kings 1:26); and: O daughters of Israel,
weep for Saul (II Kings 1:24). He mourns for Saul, as one who died in sin,
but for Jonathan, as one who shared his life in every respect. Why should I
speak of the other examples? And yet, the Lord wept over Lazarus (St. John
11:35) and He wept over Jerusalem (St. Luke 19:41), and He calls blessed those
who mourn (St. Matthew 5:4) and likewise those who weep (St. Luke 6:21).
4. But how, you say, are these things to be reconciled with the words: Rejoice
always? For weeping and joy do not derive from the same source. Weeping, for
example, is naturally engendered as a result of some blow, in which the
involuntary impact strikes and constricts the soul, while the spirit surrounding
the heart is depressed; but joy is like a leap of the soul, as it were, which
rejoices at things that are under its control. Hence, the physical symptoms are
different. For, in the case of those who are distressed, their bodies are
sallow, livid, and cold, whereas in the case of those who feel joyous, the
condition of their bodies is efflorescent and reddish, while their souls all but
leap outwards, propelled by delight.
To this we will say that the Saints lamented and wept on account of their
love for God. And so, ever beholding Him Whom they loved and increasing
the gladness that they themselves derived from Him, they provided
for the needs of their fellow-servants, mourning for those who
sinned and correcting them through their tears. Just as people who stand on the
shore and feel sympathy for those who are drowning in the sea do not jettison
their own security in their concern for those in peril, so also, those who are
distressed at the sins of their neighbors do not efface their own gladness; on
the contrary, they increase it, being vouchsafed the joy of the Lord by virtue
of the tears that they shed for their brothers. This is why those who weep and
those who mourn are blessed, for they themselves will be comforted and they
themselves will laugh. By laughter, one means not the sound which is emitted
through the cheeks when the blood boils, but the cheerfulness which is pure and
unmixed with any sadness. Therefore, the Apostle allows us to weep with those
who weep, because tears of this kind are like the seed and pledge of eternal
joy. Ascend with me in mind, please, and behold the Angelic estate and consider
whether any other condition befits them than that of rejoicing and gladness; for
they are vouchsafed to stand before God and enjoy the ineffable beauty of the
glory of Him Who created us. And so, it is to that life that the Apostle urges
us on, bidding us always to rejoice.
5. Now, as for the fact that the Lord wept over Lazarus and
the city, we have this to say: He ate and drank, not because He needed these
things Himself, but so as to leave you with measures and limits by which to
control the unavoidable emotions of the soul. Thus, He wept in order to correct
the propensity to excessive emotion and dejection among those given to mourning
and lamentation. For if there is anything that needs to be moderated by reason,
it is weeping: that is, over what things, to what extent, when, and how it is
proper to weep. For that the Lord's weeping was not emotional, but didactic,
is clear from this verse: Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may
awake him out of sleep (St. John 11:11). Who among us mourns for a sleeping
friend, whom he expects to awake after a short while? Lazarus, come forth
(St. John 11:43). And the dead man was brought back to life; he who was bound
walked. This is a miracle within a miracle: that his feet were bound with
grave-clothes and yet were not prevented from moving. That which strengthened
him was greater than that which impeded him.
Why, therefore, did the Lord, Who was about to accomplish such
things, judge the incident worthy of tears? Is it not clear that, disregarding
our infirmity in every way, He contained the necessary emotions within certain
measures and limits, avoiding a lack of sympathy, on the one hand, as something
appropriate to wild beasts, and, on the other hand, refusing to give way to
excessive grief and lamentation as something ignoble? Hence, in weeping over His
friend, He both displayed that He Himself shared in our human nature, and freed
us from either kind of extreme, allowing us neither to indulge our emotions nor
to be unfeeling in the face of sorrows.
Therefore, just as the Lord accepted hunger, after digesting solid food,
submitted to thirst, after the moisture in His body was consumed, and felt
weary, when His muscles and nerves were strained from travel-ling—although it
was not that His Divinity succumbed to weariness, but that His body accepted its
natural attributes; so also, He accepted weeping, permitting a natural property
of the flesh to supervene. This occurs when the hollow parts of the brain,
filled with vapors arising from grief, discharge the burden of moisture through
the opening of the eyes as through some kind of duct. Hence, one experiences a
certain ringing in the ears, dizziness, and darkening of the eyes when he hears
about unexpected sorrows, and ones head is set in a whirl by vapors which are
emitted by compressed heat deep inside him. Then, in my opinion, just as a cloud
dissolves into raindrops, so also the thickness of vapors dissolves into tears.
Hence, those who grieve feel a certain pleasure when they lament, because the
burden that weighs on them is secretly evacuated through weeping. Experience of
events proves the truth of this account. For we know many people who, in
desperate straits, forcibly restrain themselves from weeping; then, in some
cases, they fall into incurable sufferings, either apoplexy or paralysis, while
in other cases, they completely faint, their strength having been broken down,
like a weak support, by the weight of sorrow. For, what is observable in the
case of fire, that it is stifled by its own smoke if it does not escape, but
rolls around it—this, it is said, occurs also in the case of the faculty that
governs a living creature; that is, it wastes away and is extinguished if there
is no way for it to ex-hale.
6. Therefore, let those who are given to mourning not adduce the Lords
tears in support of their own weakness. For, just as the food which the Lord ate
is not an occasion of pleasure for us, but, on the contrary, the highest
criterion of restraint and sufficiency, so also, His weeping is not an ordinance
prescribing lamentation, but is a most fitting measure and an exact standard
whereby we may, with proper dignity and decorum, endure sorrows while remaining
within the limits of our nature. Thus, neither women nor men are permitted to
indulge in mourning and excessive weeping, but only to the extent that it is
fitting to grieve over sorrows; they are permitted to shed a few tears, but this
must be done calmly, without bellowing or wailing, without rending ones tunic
or sprinkling oneself with dust, or committing any of the other improprieties
that are typical of those who are ignorant of heavenly things. For one who has
been purified by Divine doctrine must be fenced around by right reason, as by a
strong wall, and must manfully and strenuously ward off the onslaughts of such
emotions; he must not accept any crowd of emotions that flows in, as it were, to
some low-lying place, with a submissive and compliant soul.
It is the mark of a craven soul, and one that is lacking in the vigor that
comes from hope in God, that it utterly collapses and succumbs to adversities.
For, just as worms are particularly inclined to breed on more tender pieces of
wood, so also sorrows grow in men of lesser moral fiber. Was not Job adamantine
in heart? Were his inward parts not made of stone? His ten children fell dead in
one brief moment of time, overwhelmed by a calamity in the house of their
gladness at a time of enjoyment, when the Devil brought down their dwelling upon
them. He saw the table drenched with blood; he saw his children, who had been
born at different times, but who had ended their lives together. He did not wail
aloud; he did not pluck his hair out; he did not let out a degenerate cry; but
he uttered that thanksgiving which is renowned and acclaimed by all: the Lord
gave, the Lord hath taken away; as it seemed good to the Lord, so hath it come
to pass; blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21). Was this man not lacking
in sympathy? How could this be so? For about himself, at any rate, he says: I
wept over every man who was afflicted (Job 30:25). But was he not lying when
he said this? But here, too, the truth bears witness to him that, in addition to
his other virtues, he was also truthful: ...That man was blameless,
righteous, godly, and truthful (Job 1:1).
Yet many of you keep on wailing in dirges that are designed to express
dejection, and you deliberately waste away your soul with mournful melodies;
and, just like the make-believe and paraphernalia with which they adorn theatres
to typify tragedies, so, also, you suppose that the proper outfit for a mourner
consists of black clothing, squalid hair, dirt, and dust, complete with a
darkened house and lugubrious chanting, which preserves the wound of grief ever
fresh in the soul. Let those who have no hope do these things. You, however,
have been taught, concerning those who repose in Christ, that it [the body]
is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in dishonor; it
is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power; it is sown a
natural body; it is raised a spiritual body (I Corinthians 15:42-44). Why,
then, do you weep for one who has gone to change his vesture? Neither mourn for
yourself, as one who has been deprived of a helper in this life; for it is
better to trust in the Lord than to trust in man (Psalm 117:8-9, Septuaginta).
Nor lament for this helper, as one who has suffered a terrible calamity. For, a
little later, the trumpet sounding from Heaven will awaken him, and you will see
him standing before the judgment-seat of Christ. So, dismiss these dejected and
ignorant cries: Alas, these unexpected woes! Who would have thought
that this would happen? Could I have ever anticipated that I would cover
this dearest friend of mine with earth? If we should hear someone else saying
such things, it behooves us to blush, since we have been taught from both past
memories and present experience that these natural occurrences are inevitable.
7. Therefore, neither untimely deaths nor other misfortunes that unexpectedly
befall us will ever cause consternation in us who have been educated by the
doctrine of piety. For example, let us say that I had a son who was a young man—the
sole heir of my estate, the comfort of my old age, the adornment of his family,
the flower of his peers, the support of his household, and at that time of life
which is most charming—, this lad having been carried off by death, he
becoming earth and dust who, a short while ago, uttered sweet sounds and was a
most pleasing sight in the eyes of his father. What, then, am I to do? Shall I
rend my clothing? Shall I consent to roll around on the ground, scream in
vexation, and act in front of those present like a child crying out in pain and
having convulsions? Rather, paying heed to the inevitability of events, that the
law of death is inexorable and affects every age-group alike, dissolving all
compound things in order, surely I should not be surprised at what has happened.
Surely I should not be upset in my mind, as if I had been devastated by some
unexpected blow, since I have been taught beforehand that, being mortal, I had a
mortal son, that there is no constancy in human affairs, and that nothing wholly
abides for those who possess it.
Why, even great cities, which were renowned for the elegance of their
buildings and the abilities of their inhabitants, and conspicuous for their
prosperity both in the countryside and in the marketplace, now display tokens of
their erstwhile dignity only in ruins. A ship which has frequently been
preserved from the sea, and which has made countless speedy voyages and conveyed
innumerable amounts of merchandise for traders, vanishes with a single gust of
wind. Armies which have many times defeated their foes in battle have, on
suffering a reversal of fortune, become a pitiful sight and one pitiful to
relate. Entire nations and islands, which have attained great power, and have
raised many trophies both by land and by sea, and have gathered much wealth from
booty, have either been consumed by the passage of time or been taken captive
and exchanged their liberty for enslavement. Indeed, in short, whatever great
and unbearable evil you care to mention, life already has prior examples of it.
Therefore, just as we determine weights by a turn of the scale and assay gold
by rubbing it with a touchstone, so also, if we were to remember the limits
revealed to us by the Lord, we would never exceed the bounds of prudence.
Whenever, therefore, any involuntary adversity befalls you, by virtue of being
mentally prepared, you will avoid confusion, and you will make light of present
afflictions by your hope for the future. For, just as those whose eyes are weak
divert their gaze from things that are excessively bright and give them rest by
looking at flowers and grass, so, also, the soul must not constantly behold that
which causes grief or be fixated on present sorrows, but must direct its gaze
towards what is truly good. In this way will it be feasible for you always to
rejoice, if your life always looks towards God and if hope of recompense
alleviates lifes dolors.
Have you been dishonored? Then have regard for the glory which is laid up in
Heaven through patient endurance. Have you suffered a loss? Then contemplate the
heavenly wealth and treasure which you have laid up for yourself through your
good deeds. Have you been expelled from your homeland? Then you have Jerusalem
as your heavenly homeland. Have you lost a child? Then you have Angels, with
whom you will dance around the Throne of God, rejoicing eternally. By thus
opposing anticipated good things to present sorrows, you will keep your soul in
the cheerfulness and tranquillity to which the Apostles precept summons us.
Neither let the joys of human affairs create immoderate and excessive gladness
in your soul, nor let sorrows diminish its exultation and sublimity by feelings
of dejection and abasement. Unless you have previously trained yourself in this
way regarding the eventualities of life, you will never have a calm and tranquil
life. But you will easily achieve this if you have dwelling within you the
commandment which advises you always to rejoice, dismissing the vexations of the
flesh and gathering that which gladdens the soul, transcending the sensation of
present realities and extending your mind to the hope of eternal realities, the
mere thought of which is sufficient to fill the soul with rejoicing and to make
Angelic exultation reside in our hearts; in Christ Jesus our Lord, to Whom be
the glory and the dominion, unto the ages. Amen.
Translated for the first time from the Greek original by Hieromonk Patapios.
The Greek text of this homily is found in the Patrologia
Græca, Vol. XXXI, cols. 217B-237A. From Orthodox Tradition, Vol XVII, No. 4 (2000), pp. 22-29.
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