He proceeds to dwell upon the littleness and feebleness of man, as contrasted with the amazing and boundless power of God. The Eunomians maintained that man could know the nature of God as much as God Himself knew it. “What mad presumption was this! The Prophets exhaust all available metaphors to express the insignificance of man as compared with God. Men are ‘dust and ashes,’ ‘grass,’ and the ‘flower of grass,’ ‘a vapour,’ ‘a shadow.’ Inanimate creation acknowledges the irresistible supremacy of His power; ‘if He do but touch the hills they shall smoke,’ ‘He shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble’ (Job ix. 6).” “Seest thou not yon sky, how beautiful it is, how vast, spangled with what a choir of stars? Five thousand years and more has it stood, yet length of time has left no mark of old age upon it: like a youthful vigorous body it retains the beauty with which it was endowed at the beginning. This beautiful, this vast, this starry, this ancient firmament, was made by that God into whose nature you curiously pry, was made with as much ease as a man might for pastime construct a hovel: ‘He established the sky like a roof, and stretched it out like a tent over the earth’ (Isa. xl. 22). The solid, durable earth He made, and all the nations of the world, even as far as the British Isles, are but as a drop in a bucket; and shall man, who is but an infinitesimal part of this drop, presume to inquire into the nature of Him who made all these forces and whom they obey?”[220] “God dwells in the light which no man can approach unto. If the light which surrounds Him be inaccessible, how much more God Himself who is within it? St. Paul rebukes those who presume to question the dispensation of God. ‘Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say unto him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?’ How much more, then, would he have reproved dogmatic assumptions respecting the nature of the great Dispenser?[221] The declaration of St. John, that no man had seen God at any time, might appear at variance with the descriptions in the prophets of visions of the Deity. As: ‘I saw the Lord sitting on His throne, high and lifted up’ (Isa. vi. 1). ‘I saw the Lord standing above the altar’ (Amos ix. 1). ‘I beheld till the thrones were cast down, and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow,’ etc. (Dan. vii. 9). But the very variety of forms under which God is said to have appeared proves that these manifestations were merely condescensions to the weakness of human nature, which requires something that the eye can see and the ear can hear. They were only manifestations of the Deity adapted to man’s capacity; not the Divine Nature itself, which is simple, incomposite, devoid of shape. So also, when it is said of God the Son that He is ‘in the bosom of the Father,’ when He is described as standing, or sitting, on the right hand of God, these expressions must not be interpreted in too material a sense; they are expressions accommodated to our understandings, to convey an idea of such an intimate union and equality between the two Persons as is in itself incomprehensible.”[222]
And this leads him on to consider the second error of the Arians—their denial of absolute equality between the three Persons in the Godhead. His arguments are based, as usual, entirely on an appeal to Holy Scripture. He makes a skilful selection and combination of texts to prove his point: that the titles “God” and “Lord” are common to the first two Persons in the Trinity—the names Father and Son being added merely to distinguish the Personality. Had the Father alone been God, then it would have been superfluous to add the name Father at all: “there is one God” would have been sufficient. But, as it was, the titles “God” and “Lord” were applied to both Persons to prove their equality in respect of Godhead. That the appellation of Lord no way indicated inferiority was plain, because it was frequently applied to the Father. “The Lord our God is one Lord,” Exod. xx. 2. “Great is our Lord, and great is his power,” Ps. cxlvii. 5. On the other hand, Christ is frequently entitled God, e.g. “Immanuel—God with us.” “Christ according to the flesh, who is over all, God blessed for ever.” In some instances the Father and the Son are both called Lord, or both God, in the same passage; as, for example, “The Lord said unto my Lord, ... Thy throne, O God (the Son), is for ever and ever; ... wherefore God (the Father), even thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness,” etc.[223]
The reason why Christ sometimes acted and spoke in a manner which implied human infirmity and inferiority to the Father was twofold: First, that men might be convinced that He did really, substantially, exist in the truth of our human nature; that He was not a mere phantom—the error of Marcion, Manes, and Valentinus—an error which would have been still more prevalent had He not so clearly manifested the reality of his humanity. On the other hand, He was reserved and cautious in declaring the highest mystery—his divine union and equality with the Father—out of condescension to the weakness of man’s intellect, which recoiled from the more recondite mysteries. When He told them that “Abraham rejoiced to see his day,” that “before Abraham was He was,” “that the bread from heaven was his flesh, which He would give for the life of the world,” that “hereafter they should see the Son of Man coming in the clouds,” they were invariably offended. But, on the contrary, He was chiefly accepted when He spoke words implying more humiliation—for example, “I can of my own self do nothing, but as my Father taught me, even so I speak.” “As He spake these words,” we are told, “many believed on Him.”[224]
Two other reasons might be assigned for this language of self-abasement. One was, that He came to teach us humility,—“Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart.” He “came not to be ministered unto but to minister.” He who bids others be lowly must first and pre-eminently be lowly himself. Therefore He performed such acts as washing his disciples’ feet; and the Incarnation itself was no sign, as the Arian maintained, of inferiority, but only the highest expression of that great principle of self-sacrificing love which He came to teach. Lastly, by such language He directs our minds to the apprehension of a clear distinction between the Persons in the Godhead. If his sayings about Himself had all been of the same type as “I and my Father are one,” the Sabellian error of confounding the Persons would have become yet more prevalent than it was. Thus, we find throughout our Lord’s life, in his acts and language, a careful mixture and variation of character in order to present the two elements—the human and divine—in equal proportions. He predicts his own sufferings and death, yet quickly afterwards He prays the Father that He might be, if possible, spared undergoing them. In the first act is pure divinity; in the second, humanity shrinking from that pain which is abhorrent to human nature.[225]
This very fact, however, of our Lord’s praying, was laid hold of by the Arians to prove the inferiority of his nature. This argument Chrysostom meets in Homilies IX. and X. The raising of Lazarus had been read in the Gospel for the day. “I perceive,” he says, “that many of the Jews and heretics will find an excuse, in the prayer offered by Christ before performing this miracle, to impugn his power, and say He could not have done it without the Father’s assistance.” But this fell to the ground, because on most other occasions our Lord wrought his miracles without any prayer at all. To the dead maiden he simply said, “Talitha cumi,” and she arose; the woman with an issue of blood was healed without any word or touch from Him. In the case of Lazarus He prayed, as He Himself declared, for the sake of the people, that they might perceive that God heard his prayers—that there was a perfect unanimity between the Father and the Son. Martha, in fact, had asked for a prayer—“I know whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give it thee;” therefore He prayed; just as, when the centurion said, “Speak the word only,” He spake the word and the servant was healed. If He had needed help He would have invoked it before all his miracles. In fact there was no kind of sovereign power which He hesitated to exercise. “Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee” ... “the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins;”—to an evil spirit, “I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him;” ... “to them of old it was said, Thou shalt not kill; but I say, whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause,” etc. He represents Himself as saying on the final day, “Come, ye blessed;” or “Depart, ye cursed.” Thus He claims authority to absolve, to judge, to legislate.
Homilies XI. and XII., against the Anomœans, were delivered some ten years later at Constantinople, but as they contain no special references to the events of that time, the continuity of this subject may be maintained by extracting from them the argument there employed to prove the equality of the Son with the Father. It is based on the passage, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” (St. John v. 17); by which our Saviour justified Himself from the accusation of breaking the Sabbath when He healed the paralytic. The words “My Father worketh,” Chrysostom observes, refer to the daily operations of God’s providence, by which he sustains in being those things which he commanded into existence.
This upholding energy, our Lord declares, is active at all times and on all days alike; and if it were not, the fabric of the universe would fall to pieces. He claims a similar right to providential rule, which implies equality with the Father. “My Father worketh, and I work.” If the Son had been inferior, such a method of justifying Himself would only have added force to the charges of his enemies. If a subject of the Emperor were to put on the imperial diadem and purple, it would be no excuse to say that he wore them because the Emperor wore them—“the Emperor wears them, and I wear them;”—on the contrary, it would augment the offensiveness of his presumption and arrogance. If Christ were not equal with the Father, it was the height of presumption to use those words, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.”
In dealing with such lengthy homilies, it has been impossible to do more than give specimens in a very condensed form of the main lines of argument which Chrysostom adopts. They vary greatly in value; but two points cannot fail to arrest the notice of any one who reads these homilies through:—First, the profound acquaintance of their author with Holy Scripture; extending apparently with equal force to every part of the sacred volume. Old and New Testament and Apocrypha are almost equally employed for argument, illustration, adornment; he is at home everywhere. Secondly, upon Scripture all his arguments are based: in none of his controversial homilies does Chrysostom take his stand upon the platform of existing tradition, or rely on the authority of the Church alone; “to the law and to the testimony” is always the way with him. And this was a test at that time universally accepted. The dispute with the most rationalistic and critical Arians seems never to have turned on the authority, but only on the interpretation of Scripture. Scripture is appealed to as the supreme court for trying all their differences; the only question was, as to the exact meaning of its decisions.
Again, we cannot fail to be struck by the ease and rapidity with which he glances off from the most controversial and theological parts of his discourse to practical reproof and exhortation. Nothing provoked him more than to see the bulk of that large concourse of people, who had been listening with profound attention to his address, leave the church just as the celebration of the Eucharist was about to commence. “Deeply do I groan to perceive that when your fellow-servant is speaking, great is your earnestness, strained your attention, you crowd one upon another, and stay till the very end; but that, when Christ is about to appear in the holy mysteries, the church is empty and deserted.... If my words had been laid up in your hearts they would have kept you here, and brought you to the celebration of these most solemn mysteries with greater piety; but as it is, my speech seems as fruitless as the performance of a lute-player, for as soon as I have finished you depart. Away with the frigid excuse of many: I can say prayers at home, but I cannot at home hear homilies and doctrine. Thou deceivest thyself, O man; you may indeed pray at home, but it is impossible to pray in the same manner as at church, where there is so large an assembly of your spiritual fathers, and the cry of the worshippers is sent up with one accord; where there is unanimity and concert in prayer; and where the priests preside, that the weaker supplications of the multitude being supported by theirs, which are more powerful, may ascend together with these to heaven. First prayer, then discourse; so say the Apostles—“But we will give ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.”[226]