Children of the Day: Vigilance and Sobriety (1 Thessalonians 5:5–11)

1 Thess. 5:5. You are all the children of light, and the children of the day: we are not of the night, nor of darkness.

He said that the last day will not overtake them, or should not overtake them, as a thief, because they are not in darkness. Now he explains why they are not in darkness, or ought not to be in darkness—because they are sons of light. Scripture is accustomed to call sons of something those who bear the characteristic marks of what they are sons of, who are essentially akin to it, filled with its spirit. Sons of light—of Him Who is the light of the world—are those who have been enlightened by the Gospel’s teaching, regenerated by the grace of the Holy Spirit, and who live in the light of God’s countenance and according to His will; they are bright in knowledge, in life, in hopes. Sonship to light denotes not merely belonging to the realm of light, but receiving it into oneself, being penetrated by it, and a kind of light-bearing quality, though a borrowed one. “You were once darkness, but now are you light in the Lord,” the Apostle says (Eph. 5:8; compare: Mt. 5:16; Jn. 3:21; Lk. 16:8; Jn. 12:36; Eph. 2:2–3). “As sons of God are those who do what is pleasing to God, so sons of the day are those who do the works of light” (Chrysostom). “As sons of Gehenna are called those who do what is worthy of Gehenna, and sons of disobedience those who stubbornly resist the will of God, so sons of light and of the day are called those who do the works of righteousness and light” (Oecumenius).

What the Apostle stated positively he then expresses negatively, and in such a way that he encompasses both himself and all believers in a common proposition: “we are not of the night, nor of darkness.” Just as in paintings shadow throws the light portion into sharper relief and gives the whole figure a three-dimensional quality. Night and darkness are synonymous here; but the Apostle seems to distinguish them by degree: we are not only not of the night, but not even of darkness. In that case, darkness would signify a lesser gloom, an accidental, transitory dimming. So the holy Paul elsewhere depicts the holy Church as having no “spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing” (Eph. 5:27). In the expression: “we are not of the night…” some supply the word “sons,” while others paraphrase: we do not belong to the realm of night and darkness. The Apostle wishes to say: we are not nocturnal, not dark, not obscured.

1 Thess. 5:6. Therefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.

Such is what we are by our meaning and calling. But in order for each of us to be such in deed as well, we must not sleep, but watch and be sober. “Let us not sleep”—let us not live in carelessness and forgetfulness of the day of judgment, as others do who do not know Christ. “Let us watch and be sober”—let us attend to ourselves and to what we ought to be and how we ought to act; and watchfully—energetically—let us conduct ourselves accordingly, not permitting evil thoughts, impure sympathies, sinful inclinations, passionate impulses, or vicious deeds. The Saviour commands: “what I say to you I say to all, Watch” (Mk. 13:37). Elsewhere: “But take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be weighed down with excess and drunkenness and the cares of this life, and so that day come upon you suddenly. For as a snare shall it come on all them that dwell on the face of the whole earth. Watch you therefore, and pray always, that you may be counted worthy to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of Man” (Lk. 21:34–36). All the holy Apostles urge the same: “Be sober, be vigilant,” the holy Peter writes (1 Pet. 5:8). The holy Paul elsewhere clarifies his meaning: “Watch you, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong” (1 Cor. 16:13). “Here,” writes the holy Chrysostom, “the Apostle shows that it is within our power to maintain the light of day. In the ordinary day and night this is not within our power—night comes against our will; but with that spiritual night and sleep it is otherwise: one can keep watch continually, one can abide perpetually in the midst of day. To close the eyes of the spirit and yield to sinful slumber is an act not of nature but of will. ‘Let us watch,’ he says, ‘and be sober.’ For even one who is awake, if he does not do good, may be asleep; therefore he added: ‘and let us be sober.’ Truly, even in the daytime, if a man is awake but not sober, he may fall into countless dangers. Sobriety is the intensification of watchfulness.” Explaining this last thought, Oecumenius adds: “It happens that someone, even while awake, is no different from one who is asleep. The Apostle spoke as if to say: let us soberly do good and order our lives.” In the writings of the ascetic Fathers, sobriety is sometimes the detachment of the heart from attachments and passions, while watchfulness is the tension of the active powers.

1 Thess. 5:7. For they that sleep sleep in the night; and they that be drunken are drunken in the night.

He has obligated them to watchfulness and sobriety. Now he says that they cannot rightly act otherwise. For the absence of watchfulness is sleep, and the absence of sobriety is drunkenness; but sleep and drunkenness occur at night, not in the day—and you are sons of light and of the day; sleep and drunkenness ought not to come near you. But as he understands watchfulness and sobriety in the moral sense, so sleeping and drunkenness must also be understood in the moral sense. Here he means those who sleep through carelessness, insensibility, and blindness, and those who are drunk with passions, sensuality, and desires—who through intoxication with all these things lose their Christian consciousness. He illustrates his thought with examples from everyday life. People ordinarily sleep and drink at night, while in the daytime they work and attend to their affairs. The implication is: we too, as sons of light, ought not to sleep and act disorderly in the moral sense, but to live as Christian duty demands—not carelessly, not without concern for the salvation of the soul, not permitting earthly cares to absorb all our time and sensual pleasures to hold us as if in a stupor; both the one and the other drives out of memory the eternal lot that awaits you.

Ancient commentators understand sleeping and drunkenness thus: “By the sleeping the Apostle here means those who remain in evil, as those who are unmoved toward virtue and sunk in the delusions of fantasy” (Theophylact); “those who lack energetic zeal for the doing of good works and abide in sin. He spoke as if to say: sinners live in the darkness of sin; but those who have resolved to perform works of righteousness ought not to be negligent of virtue—to sleep—and ought never to cease doing good works. Their distinguishing mark is abiding not in the night of sin but in the light of virtuous deeds and righteous conduct” (Oecumenius). “But why does he call sin sleep? — First, because the sinner has not the strength needed to perform good deeds; further, because he is constantly carried away by imagination and sees nothing in its true light; on the contrary, he is full of dreams and often of senseless fantasies, and even if he sees something good, he draws nothing firm and unchanging from it. The sleeping man does not see what exists and is truly real, while of what does not exist at all he dreams as if it existed. Such is sin and such is sinful life! It does not see what exists—that is, the spiritual, the heavenly, the unchanging—but sees only what flows, flies away, and soon leaves us” (the holy Chrysostom). “By drunkenness the Apostle here means not intoxication with wine, but the clouding and darkening of the mind with sins” (Oecumenius)—not what comes from wine, but what comes from the passions, since they cloud and dislodge from its proper station the ruling faculty (of the soul, that is, the mind). “You ought not to be such, for you are not sons of night and darkness but sons of the day through baptism and the reception of the yoke of God’s commandments” (Theophylact). “The soul’s drunkenness is constituted by love of gain and attachment to money and carnal love, and everything else you might mention of this kind—all this is drunkenness of the soul” (the holy Chrysostom).

1 Thess. 5:8. But let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; and for a helmet, the hope of salvation.

The reminder about watchfulness and attention brought to mind the military sentinel standing watch, and the sentinel—armor. The Apostle now passes to this new comparison, which he particularly loves and uses frequently (2 Cor. 10:4; Rom. 6:13; 13:12; Eph. 6:11). Just as a soldier on guard attentively watches whether an enemy is approaching, and is armed for the repulse of the enemy in case of attack, so we too ought not only to watch for the devices of our moral enemies, but also to be ready to repulse them at all times, having armed ourselves as befits a Christian. “It is not enough to watch and be sober—one must also be armed. For if a man has no weapons, though he be vigilant and sober, robbers can kill him instantly. So if it is necessary both to watch and to be sober and to be armed, and we should remain without weapons, naked, and moreover asleep, what will prevent the enemy from plunging his sword into us? This is why the Apostle arms us” (Chrysostom). “This is what he said elsewhere: ‘the night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light’ (Rom. 13:12). Let us be guarded, he says here, instead of a breastplate by faith in God and love toward our neighbor, and let the hope of the promised salvation be for us an unbreakable helmet” (Theodoret). Faith together with love guards the entire constitution of the soul, not allowing right thoughts and movements of the heart to escape, while hope will protect the head of life—energy, which immediately falls as soon as despair steals into the soul. Faith, love, hope—the chief functions of the Christian life—are at the same time powerful weapons for repelling the attacks of the enemy: faith repels the arrows of falsehood, unbelief, and error; love repels the lures and seductions of sin and the passions; hope repels all wavering of fidelity in the face of present afflictions and sorrows and the hiddenness of the future, assuring us that the Lord will never forsake us if we do not forsake Him, that He will keep and protect us and will assuredly bring us into His eternal kingdom. One who is filled with faith, love, and hope is a son of the day. His vision of all that exists and occurs is bright through faith; his conscience is bright through works of love never omitted; all around him and before him is bright through hope and surrender to the will of God: “If God be for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31). — Here is a true watchman and sober man!

The holy Chrysostom writes: “Putting on,” he says, “the breastplate of faith and love”—commanding thus both to lead a righteous life and to confess right dogmas. See how he has explained what it means to watch and to be sober—namely, to have the breastplate of faith and love. Not any faith, but a fervent, sincere faith that renders invincible those who are protected by it. Just as no one can quickly cut through a breastplate, and it serves as a rampart for the chest; so do you also guard the soul with faith and love, and not one of the fiery darts of the devil will be able to penetrate it. Where the strength of the soul is guarded by the weapon of love, all the assaults of those who plot against it are in vain and futile, because neither malice, nor envy, nor flattery, nor hypocrisy, nor anything else will be able to touch such a soul. He did not simply say: into love, but said that one must put it on like a strong breastplate. Having said this, he further adds: “and for a helmet, the hope of salvation.” As a helmet guards what is most vital in us—that is, the head—surrounding and covering it on all sides, so also hope will not allow our mind to fall, but holds it upright like a head, not permitting anything extraneous to fall upon it. And as long as nothing falls upon it, we do not bow down. In truth, one who is protected by this armor can never fall. For “there abides,” it is said, “faith, hope, charity, these three” (1 Cor. 13:13).

1 Thess. 5:9–10. For God has not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him.

Some think that here are set forth the truths on which the hope of salvation—one of the proposed spiritual weapons of Christians—is exclusively based and by which it is nourished. Others see in the truths presented the source of all three weapons—faith, love, and hope. It is true that for the Thessalonians the most needful thing was the strengthening of hope, and the holy Apostle may have had the aim of acting especially upon this foundational Christian feeling. But hope cannot stand alone: it is born of faith and ripens under the influence of the works of love. Therefore it is more accurate to say that he wished to enliven by these truths the entire structure of the inner Christian life. The holy Chrysostom understands it thus: “Having said: put on and arm yourselves, the Apostle prepares the weapons and shows whence faith, hope, and love are born, and how they become the most powerful armor, when he adds: ‘for God has not appointed us’—and so on.”

“God has not appointed us.” It was not with this in view that God willed us to be Christians, believers in the Lord—such is not God’s determination and intention concerning us, such is not our calling. “To wrath.” This refers either to the coming wrath (1 Thess. 1:10; Mt. 3:7)—that is, after judgment, condemnation to eternal torments: “God did not call us in order to deliver us to punishment” (Theodoret); or, in general, a state under God’s disfavor: “God did not appoint us for this, that we should bear His wrath” (Theophylact), “that we should experience His wrath” (Oecumenius). “But to obtain salvation.” So that we might obtain salvation. The Greek περιποιησις, in its current usage, means a feast—a banquet. “To obtain salvation” would then mean: for the feast of salvation. This is the same as what we read in the Epistle to the Hebrews: “to the saving of the soul” (Heb. 10:39). According to ancient usage, however, this word means rather: acquisition, gaining by purchase. “To obtain salvation means: to acquire salvation. He acquired us for Himself, He bought us, having paid for us the highest possible price—the blood of His Only-begotten Son. Having such proof of God’s love toward us, let us have faith in Him, love toward Him and toward our neighbors, and good hope that He will save us, who have been bought at such a price” (Oecumenius). “By our Lord Jesus Christ.” For “there is no salvation in any other” (Acts 4:11). All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Now, if any are saved, they are saved “through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God has set forth to be a propitiation through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness for the remission of sins that are past” (Rom. 3:23–25). “Who died for us”—either for our benefit, or in our place. The Lord died in our place—we who were condemned to death—and thereby opened for those who believe in Him and walk according to His commandments the entry into the treasury of the blessings of God’s boundless goodness.

“So God called us not to destroy us, but to save us. How do we know that He wills precisely this? — ‘His Son,’ it is said, ‘He gave’ for us (Jn. 3:16): He so desires our salvation that He gave His Son—and not simply gave Him, but gave Him to death. From such reflections hope is born. Do not despair, then, O man, when coming to God, Who did not spare even His own Son. Do not dread present calamities: He Who gave up His Only-begotten in order to save you and snatch you from Gehenna—will He withhold anything else for your salvation? Consequently, we must expect all that is good and great, for we have received the chief thing if we believe. — But we see an example; let us therefore also love Him. Otherwise it would be the height of madness not to love the One Who has loved us so much” (the holy Chrysostom).

“Whether we wake or sleep.” Waking and sleeping here mean something different from above. There, waking meant moral watchfulness, and sleeping meant carelessness and negligence of the virtuous life. “But here sleeping means bodily death, and waking means life” (the holy Chrysostom). The Apostle speaks as if to say: whether the coming of Christ finds us alive, or whether we die before it—we shall all be counted worthy to be with Him eternally. “Both after death and while still alive, we share in life with Him. For the Apostle called the living those who are awake, and those who have departed—those who are asleep” (Theodoret).

“We should live together with Him. Together”—either: so that all of us in common, both the living and the dead, should then enter into the blessed life with the Lord and abide in Him always. Or: together with Him. The meaning is one and the same.

“What is said here has this meaning: do not fear dangers; if we even die, we shall be alive. Do not fall into despair because you suffer affliction: you have a sure pledge. He would not have given up His Son had He not had extraordinary love for us. Consequently, even if you die, you shall be alive—for He Himself died and behold, He is alive. So whether we die or remain alive, we shall live together with Him. I find not the slightest difference in this; it is all the same to me whether I am alive or whether I die—because with Him we shall live. Let us therefore do everything for that life, let us fulfill everything, fixing our gaze upon it” (the holy Chrysostom).

1 Thess. 5:11. Wherefore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another, even as also you do.

The holy Apostle says these words a second time. Having spoken of the comforting lot of the departed at the coming of the Lord, he added: comfort yourselves with this (1 Thess. 4:18). Now, having drawn from this the lesson of watchfulness and sobriety, he again adds: comfort and edify one another mutually. By the first—comfort; by the second—edify. Comfort in sorrow; edify when the soul is disturbed by perplexities and evil movements of the heart and flesh. Exhort one another mutually, in accordance with what has been set forth, toward a watchful and sober life in faith, love, and hope—edify your thoughts, feelings, dispositions, and deeds. “Even as also you do.” With this commendation he encourages the continuation of this same manner of mutual edification and advancement in it. Such mutual instruction of one another in the spirit of faith and mutual encouragement to a life according to faith is an apostolic institution in the Church. “Since teachers are unable themselves to instruct everyone in everything, the Apostle gives them a rule that they should comfort and instruct one another mutually” (Oecumenius). “Do you see? — So why do you excuse yourself saying: I am not a teacher?” (Theophylact).

At this text the holy Chrysostom dwells chiefly on arousing attention to one’s deeds and feelings and to the path along which one must walk. His discourse is thorough and powerful; it may be recommended for frequent reading by anyone who does not wish to fall asleep on the way. It is at the same time an example of mutual encouragement to a sober life. We shall present it in abbreviated form.

“Therefore I beseech you,” he says, “let us always conduct ourselves in such a way as never to fall asleep. Have you not seen how often prolonged standing on guard proved useless because the sentinels yielded to sleep for a brief time? For through that short sleep they lost everything, giving the would-be thief much greater boldness. For just as we do not observe thieves as closely as they watch us, so the devil above all follows, lies in wait for us, and gnashes his teeth. So let us not fall asleep; let us not say: nothing threatens us from this side, nor from that. We are often robbed from where we did not expect it. So too with respect to evil: we can perish from where we did not anticipate. — Let us examine everything carefully, let us not be drunk—and we shall not fall asleep; let us not gorge ourselves—and we shall not slumber; let us not throw ourselves madly at outward goods—and we shall remain sober. Let us guard ourselves on all sides. As those who walk on a tightrope cannot afford to be even slightly careless, since from that slight carelessness a great evil results—if they misstep, they fall straight down and perish—so we too must not remain careless. We walk a narrow way, surrounded on both sides by precipices, on which both feet cannot stand at once. Do you see how much care is needed? Do you not see that those who travel a path surrounded by precipices not only step cautiously with their feet but also look attentively with their eyes? Even if a traveler appears to step carefully in a given place and his foot stands firm, yet an eye dimmed by looking into the abyss can throw him down: he must think both about himself and about how to step; this is why it is said: ‘turn not to the right hand nor to the left’ (Prov. 4:27). The abyss of evil is deep, the precipices are great, thick is the darkness below, narrow is the path. Let us attend to ourselves with fear, let us walk with trembling. Traveling such a path, no one gives himself over to laughter or burdens himself with drunkenness, but walks that path soberly and attentively. Traveling such a path, no one carries anything superfluous. Happy is the one who, being well girded, can pass through it safely. No one in such a case binds his own feet, but leaves them free. We, however, binding ourselves with countless cares and loading upon ourselves countless burdens of this life, being inattentive and scattered—how can we hope to pass along so narrow a path? The path is narrow, for when we must give account for our words and thoughts and deeds and everything, then truly such a path is narrow. And we make it still narrower by fattening and broadening ourselves and walking with a careless step. A narrow path is hard for anyone, but especially for one who is fat; on the contrary, one who slims himself will not even feel the narrowness—he who has learned to confine himself will not complain of confinement. Let no one, then, expect to see heaven while indulging in ease—this is impossible! In luxury let no one hope to pass through the narrow way—it cannot be done! Let none of those who walk the broad way hope to reach life. If you see someone gratifying himself with baths, a sumptuous table, or numerous servants, do not consider yourself unfortunate because you lack these things, but pity him, because he walks the path of destruction. Let us count happy not those who live in luxury but those who do not live in luxury. These latter hasten toward heaven, while those hurry toward Gehenna. At some point we must rouse ourselves, must open our eyes, awaken, occupy ourselves with eternal life, interrupt our long sleep. There is a judgment, there is punishment, there is a resurrection and an examination of deeds! The Lord comes on the clouds; ‘a fire shall devour before Him, and it shall be very tempestuous round about Him’ (Ps. 49:3). A river of fire flows before Him, the undying worm, the unquenchable fire, the outer darkness, the gnashing of teeth! There is eternal unrelieved torment—there will be no defender! ‘Who will pity’ Scripture says, ‘a charmer that is bitten with a serpent?’ (Sir. 12:13). When we ourselves do not take pity on ourselves, tell me who will take pity on us? When we have the ability to correct ourselves and do not do so, who will pity us? — No one. Let us then take pity on ourselves. When we pray to God saying: ‘have mercy on me, O Lord,’ let us say this also to ourselves and take pity on ourselves! It is within our power that God should have mercy on us. He Himself has granted us this. If we do what is worthy of mercy, worthy of His love for mankind, then God will have mercy on us. But if we ourselves take no pity on ourselves, who will pity us?”