Be Imitators of God; Walk in Love (Ephesians 4:32–5:4)

“‘And slander,’ says the Apostle, ‘be put away from you.’ Observe how evil progresses: bitterness gives birth to wrath, wrath to fury, fury to clamor, clamor to slander—that is, to abusive words—then slander to blows, blows to wounds, wounds to death. But the holy Paul did not wish to say any of this explicitly; he said only: ‘be put away from you, with all malice.’ What is meant by “with all malice”? Every malice leads to this end. There are people who resemble those crafty dogs that neither bark nor rush directly at passersby, but, feigning meekness and gentleness, seize the unwary and sink their teeth into them. Such are far worse than those who attack openly. Since there are those among men who resemble such dogs—who, without resort to shouting, anger, insults, or threats, lay secret snares and prepare a thousand evils for others, taking vengeance on them by deeds—the Apostle has indicated such persons as well. ‘Let it be put away,’ he says, ‘from you, with all malice.’ Do not avenge yourself in deeds either, if you spare words. I have restrained your tongue and held back your clamor so that no fiercer flame might be kindled within you. But if, even without shouting, you do the same thing—keeping a flame and live coals smoldering within yourself—what profit is there in your silence? Do you not know that fires which smolder inwardly and are not visible outwardly are the more destructive? And are not wounds that produce inward inflammation the same? So too is hidden wrath worse and more harmful to the soul. But it also, says the Apostle, ‘be put away from you, with all malice’—both great and small. Let us therefore obey him and cast out of ourselves all bitterness and all malice, lest we grieve the Holy Spirit. Let us uproot and cut off bitterness entirely. No good can come to a soul filled with bitterness, nothing of profit—but from it flow all misfortunes, all tears, all wailing and lamentation.”

Eph. 4:32. And be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ has forgiven you.

The Apostle prescribes a remedy against irritability, quarrelsomeness, and malice. Instead of these ungodly dispositions, cultivate good ones. Instead of all bitterness—by which you both grieve yourselves and grieve others—be kind, χρηστοί, sweet (blessed Jerome), pleasant, and warmhearted; instead of all malice, be tender-hearted, εὔσπλαγχνοι, compassionate. Dispositions of this kind will prevent you from being aggrieved by anyone or growing angry with anyone, let alone from grieving or angering others. Warmheartedness and compassion absorb all unpleasantness and spread around them a sweet, gentle peace. But someone may say: what is one to do when one has a bilious temperament? I would gladly cover everything with compassion and meekness, but I cannot control myself. Well for the one in whom sympathetic dispositions predominate—but one in whom egotistic feelings predominate cannot avoid irritation, discord, and vindictiveness. To this it must be said that in Christianity, under the action of grace, every bad natural temper is reshaped into a good one, provided a person takes this up earnestly and exerts every effort on his own part. He will not reshape himself by his own power, but grace will reshape him, working secretly beneath his own labor upon himself. In what does this effort consist? In forgiving everyone else, contrary to one’s unyielding disposition. Repeated acts of yielding and forgiveness—unwilling, reluctant—will in time lead to willing forgiveness of all things, and further to never taking offense—to not being grieved by anything at all. What should inspire such self-opposition? A vivid awareness that one was oneself irredeemably guilty before God and yet God forgave everything freely, for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ. “Bear with one another’s faults,” says the Apostle, “and be like the God of all things, Who through the Lord Christ has granted us the remission of the whole multitude of our sins” (Theodoret). The moving force here is gratitude; but if one also recalls the Saviour’s parable of the unmerciful creditor who was himself a debtor—who, after having himself received the remission of a great debt, refused to forgive his own debtor a comparatively trifling amount and was therefore stripped of all mercy and cast into prison—then to gratitude there is added fear, and together these are strong enough to rouse sufficient energy each time to prevent us from yielding to unmerciful treatment of those who cause us some offense or who prove themselves remiss in their duties toward us. And the Lord, in setting forth the pattern of constant prayer, placed within it: “Forgive us, as we also forgive” (Matt. 6:9)—so that constant awareness of one’s own need to receive forgiveness might always incline us to forgive others. For one who does not himself forgive places in his prayer, against his own will: “Forgive us not, as we do not forgive”—even if he reads it otherwise. Therefore, by the memory of the forgiveness of our unpayable debts in Christ Jesus—in baptism or in repentance—with fitting reflection, compel yourself to forgive, and the grace of God will help you to rise to the state of being no longer irritated by anything from those who oppose you, and of covering all things with compassion and meekness.

We take up once more the words of Chrysostom.

Having explained at length at the outset that to attain the Kingdom it is not enough to turn away from sin, but that one must also acquire the opposing virtue, he goes on to say: “What profit is there, tell me, if all the thorns are pulled up but no useful seeds are sown? The labor will again do us as much harm if it is left unfinished. This is why Paul, caring earnestly for us, gives us commandments not only about cutting off and putting away evil deeds, but also urges us quickly to show the planting of good deeds. For having said, ‘Let all bitterness, and wrath, and fury, and clamor, and slander be put away from you, with all malice,’ he added: ‘and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another,’ for these are habits and dispositions, and it is not enough to rid oneself of one habit in order to acquire another (opposing) one in its place—some fresh movement and striving is needed, no less swift than the turning away from evil deeds, in order to acquire good deeds. One who is not an enemy is not yet a complete friend: there is something intermediate between enmity and friendship, and it is in this intermediate state that most people chiefly stand in relation to us. One who does not weep does not always laugh—there is an intermediate state. So here too: one who is not offensive is not yet perfectly good, and one who is not wrathful is not perfectly compassionate. A new effort is still required to acquire this good. And see how, following the demands of sound husbandry, the blessed Paul cleanses and tills the land entrusted to him by the Master of the vineyard: he has cast out the rotten seeds; now he urges us to acquire the proper plants. ‘Be kind,’ he says. For if, once the thorns are pulled out, the land is left lying idle, it will again produce useless weeds. The Apostle has done away with wrath—he plants goodness; he has done away with offense—he plants compassion; he has uprooted malice and evil-speaking—he has sown mercy. For the words ‘forgiving one another’ mean precisely this. Be inclined to the forgiveness of offenses, he says. Such mercy is greater than that shown in financial matters. One who forgives a money debt to a borrower does a fine and admirable thing, but such mercy pertains to the body, though he receives in return spiritual and soul-related treasures. But one who forgives sins has benefited the soul—both his own and that of the one who received forgiveness—because by such conduct he has made not only himself but the other more gentle as well. For we do not wound the souls of those who offend us so much by pursuing them as we confound them and bring them to shame by forgiving them. Meanwhile, by acting vindictively we benefit neither ourselves nor them, but harm both them and ourselves. Therefore, if you wish to take revenge, take it by this means: return good for evil, so as to make him (your enemy) your debtor and win a splendid victory. Why do you think our Lord Jesus Christ says: ‘If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also’ (Matt. 5:39)? Is it not because the more magnanimous one is, the more benefit one brings both to oneself and to him? Therefore, let us not be resentful, but let us extinguish wrath, so as to be found worthy of mercy from God. For ‘with the measure you use, it will be measured to you, and with the judgment you judge, you will be judged’ (Matt. 7:2).”

Eph. 5:1. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children.

These first two verses may be taken both as a continuation of the preceding thought and as a distinct commandment concerning love as the highest Christian law of mutual relations.

“Therefore”—this word directly connects what follows with what preceded. There it was said: “forgive one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” Now it says: forgive, and: as children of God. Children imitate their father and take him as their example. Take your example from your heavenly Father, Who forgave not someone else but you yourselves—and forgive. But it is not cold forgiveness that the Apostle requires, but loving forgiveness, as was evident above where he derived forgiveness from the words: be kind and tender-hearted; and this is evident here as well, for immediately there follows: “and walk in love,” indicating what it is we are to imitate. — In true Christianity, actions done from cold rational requirement are not tolerated; it is required that everything proceed from the heart, and that the heart be full of love. God Himself has said: “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). From the context in which this is said, it is clear that the God-imitating perfection required there is love and mercy, as the holy Luke plainly states in a parallel saying of the Lord: “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Lk. 6:36). And the love the Saviour counts as true is that which is shown toward enemies. For He says: “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who persecute you and drive you away, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven, for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and… the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? And if you greet only your friends, what more are you doing? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” (Matt. 5:44–47). This is the test of love. Only such love is to be counted God-imitating.

Chrysostom discerns in this God-imitation an incomparable privilege of Christians.

“What can be sweeter than these words, ‘be imitators of God’? If you name the Kingdom, if you name anything else—none of it will be in any way equal to them! You imitate God; you are likened to God when you forgive along with Him. Sins must be forgiven more readily than money debts, because if you forgive money you will not by this be imitating God, but if you forgive sins you are imitating God.”

The blessed Jerome discerned a particular shade of meaning in the Apostle’s words. “Whoever understands in what sense it is said: ‘Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect’ (Matt. 5:48), knows also in what sense it is said here: ‘be imitators of God.’ — Writing to the Corinthians, the Apostle says: ‘be imitators of me, as I am of Christ’ (1 Cor. 11:1; 4:16). For they were not yet capable of becoming imitators of Christ directly, but it was already great for them if they could be imitators of the imitator. But to the Ephesians—as those whom he had already instructed in such mysteries—he does not say: be imitators of me or of Christ, but imitators of God. Not because being an imitator of Christ is less than being an imitator of God (for Christ is God), but because it is one thing to imitate according to the human nature, and another to imitate according to the Godhead—though we now no longer regard Christ according to the flesh, as some understood Him at first. — The Saviour Himself speaks, showing His humility according to the economy of salvation: ‘The Son can do nothing of Himself, unless He sees the Father doing it; for whatever He does, the Son likewise does’ (Jn. 5:19). Not that the Father created one heaven and one earth, and Christ then created other similar heavens and earths by imitation, but that the Son does the very same thing the Father does (that is, indivisibly). In what precisely can we be likened to God—he has testified to this above, saying: ‘forgiving one another, even as God in Christ has forgiven you.’ I do not think that in the other things God does, man can imitate God. But this is possible: that just as God is merciful and sends rain on the good and the evil, so also we should show our goodness to all people. When we fulfil this, we shall be beloved children—either of Paul himself, or, as I think better, of God.”

In the words “as beloved children” is seen an indication of the moral necessity of the dispositions proposed—a necessity that is exclusively Christian. — Theodoret writes: “You have been made worthy of adoption; you call God Father; therefore strive earnestly for this kinship.” “Beloved children”—either inasmuch as God loves them, or inasmuch as they love God, that is, as children who love God. The latter meaning is reflected in Chrysostom: “And here is yet another most beautiful exhortation: ‘as children,’ he says, ‘beloved.’ You have yet another reason to imitate Him—not only because you have been benefited by Him, but also because you have become His children. For not all sons imitate their fathers, but only the beloved ones; this is why he says: ‘as beloved children.’”

One may carry this inference further from these words—all the way to concluding that whoever is not such is no Christian at all. The right to be children of God is granted to those who are born of God; and they are born of God through the Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit, coming, pours out the love of God—that is, divine love—into our hearts (Rom. 5:5). The proof of such love, according to the word of the Lord, is love toward enemies—not merely forgiveness, but love. Going back the other way: whoever does not have such love does not have the Spirit; whoever does not have the Spirit has not been born of Him; whoever has not been born from above is not a son to God; whoever is not a son of God by grace is no Christian. From this it follows that in the words “as beloved children” there is concealed the thought: otherwise one is not a child—and if not a child, then it is well known what one is. This does not, however, give anyone who does not feel such love the right to say: “What am I to do, if it is not poured in?” and to sit with folded hands, waiting for God Himself to do everything within him. Despite the fact that all morally good dispositions exist in us in their true form only through the action of the grace of the Holy Spirit, no one is released from the deeds that belong to the sphere of those dispositions and serve as their expression. If the disposition is lacking, compel yourself to the deeds that flow from it—and it will come; the grace of the Spirit will come as well and bring to final perfection all that your own efforts could not bring to perfection.

Eph. 5:2. And walk in love, as Christ also loved us and gave Himself for us as an offering and a sacrifice to God for a fragrant aroma.

The flow of thought is as follows. Be imitators of God. In what are you to imitate? In love. And how are you to love? As Christ loved us. Having given Himself for us, He offered to God the most pleasing sacrifice; give yourself likewise to every labor and privation for the good of others, and you will both testify to your sincere love for all and present before God deeds that will be to Him as a sacrifice for a fragrant aroma. How wisely in the Apostle the entire Christian moral teaching is referred back to Christ!

“And walk in love.” Do not perform one, or two, or tens or hundreds of acts of love and think it sufficient; but walk in love—act constantly and without interruption in the spirit of love. God our Father is ever-present, inexhaustible love (1 Jn. 4:16). And we, to the measure of our strength, will show forth some fullness of love if we walk always in love. Chrysostom says: “And here is the foundation of everything: ‘walk in love.’ If love is present, there will be no fury, no wrath, no clamor, no slander—all of this will be destroyed. This is why he places the greatest thing at the end.”

The works of love—especially in the sense the Lord requires, that is, showing love toward enemies—inevitably demand sacrifice. Since this can undermine our energy, always weak, the Apostle sets before us for encouragement the sacrifice that Christ offered for us. He is saying, as it were: grasp the power of Christ’s sacrifice; enter into sympathy with it, and you will no longer halt before any sacrifice in your walk according to the spirit of love. Christ’s loving sacrifice for us is a second example of love for us—closer to us, more tangible. The love of God is invisible and all-encompassing; the love of Christ is visible and touches each one of us. Having tasted its fruits, it is natural to be kindled by it. Christ loved us and gave Himself for us; on account of this loving self-giving for us you also have been shown mercy, received into God’s love, and not only forgiven but made worthy of sonship to Him: love therefore this very love that gives itself over to every sacrifice, and walk in it precisely. Chrysostom dwells especially on this aspect: “Tell me—if someone had helped you when you were in a fever and struggling with death by some medicine, would you not have magnified that person above all things, and even the very name of the medicine? For if we cling to the times and places at which we received benefit as to our very soul, how much more to the very actions. Be attached to love, because through it you were saved, through it you were made a son (of God); and if you are able to save others, use the same medicine and exhort all: ‘Forgive, and you will be forgiven’ (Lk. 6:37); such conduct is the mark of grateful, free, and noble souls.”

And that love must extend to the point of self-sacrifice for enemies in particular is made plain by the example of Christ’s love for us. For He gave Himself for us, who were His enemies and God’s. If it is your duty to imitate His love, then love your enemies. “Otherwise, how will the word ‘as’ retain its meaning? Is it not clear that this is only the case if we do good to our enemies?” (Chrysostom).

The Apostle does not here reason about the significance and power of Christ’s sacrifice, but takes it as a known fact, with the particular aim of heightening our enthusiasm for imitating the love of Christ the Lord by pointing to its fruit—namely that the sacrifice, by the power it bore, offered to God, was “to God for a fragrant aroma.” He is saying, as it were: do not fear and do not hold back from sacrifices; by virtue of the love shown in them, they will be “to God for a fragrant aroma.” Who, taking this to heart, would not be ready for every labor and sacrifice out of love for his brethren?

The expression “for a fragrant aroma”—a most pleasing sacrifice, acceptable to God and precious before Him—is first encountered in the assessment of Noah’s sacrifice. There it is written: “And the Lord smelled the aroma of the fragrance. And the Lord God said… I will never again curse the earth on account of human deeds” (Gen. 8:21). The smelling of the sacrificial aroma is attributed to God to signify that the sacrifice reached God, was received by Him with favor, and merited God’s good pleasure. The sacrifice of Christ the Saviour, who offered Himself, was the most pleasing of all: no other such sacrifice is possible or required, for this one alone replaced all sacrifices. Christ Himself—not as man, but as the God-man—was both priest and sacrifice. He offered not as a man, but as the God-man, and offered not a man, but the God-man. Hence the infinite worth of His sacrifice! The fragrant aroma from this sacrifice arose not only on account of its boundless worth, but also because it was the fruit of a willing love: “He loved and gave Himself.” In this regard it is an example set before us: infuse sincere love into your acts of self-sacrifice for others, and from them there will ascend before God a fragrant aroma. The Lord gave Himself “for us”—not for the holy and the friends, but for sinners and enemies, in order to merit all-forgiveness for our sins—in order that, driving away, speaking humanly, the stench of our sins from God’s perception by the most pleasing fragrant aroma of His sacrifice, He might propitiate God, that He might pronounce to us all-forgiveness and all-mercy—might pronounce that the curse lying upon us has been brought to an end. From this sacrifice of Christ, offered for us while we were still enemies, let us learn to love our enemies, with readiness to sacrifice everything for them even to the laying down of our life, that we may always be well-pleasing before God.

Up to this point the holy Paul has been teaching how to set right the irascible part of the soul, placing self-sacrificing love at the summit of its purification. Now he points to the purification of another part of the old man—the concupiscent. At this point one may mark a turn in the Apostle’s general instructions on the Christian life.

Eph. 5:3. But fornication and all uncleanness or covetousness, let it not even be named among you, as is fitting for saints.

“He has spoken of the irascible passion—wrath, fury, and bitterness. Now he turns to the concupiscent passion—fornication. So also the Law, after saying: ‘You shall not kill’—which is the work of the irascible passion—also said: ‘You shall not commit adultery’ (Ex. 20:13, 14)—which is the work of the concupiscent passion. As bitterness, clamor, malice, and slander are the fruits of the irascible passion, so the fruits of the concupiscent are fornication, adultery, uncleanness, and love of money; for whoever does not lust after bodies lusts after money and possessions” (Oecumenius). So too all our commentators, and Chrysostom.

“Fornication”—every sin with a woman outside the marriage bond; all uncleanness—every other manifestation of the concupiscent passion: lustful thoughts, willfully stoked fires of the flesh, unnatural gratification of it; covetousness—the passion for acquisition, the insatiable desire to have more and more. That this too belongs to lust is shown by the holy John the Theologian, who attributes to it not only the lust of the flesh but also the lust of the eyes, by which is meant love of money—as everyone commonly says: your eyes are never satisfied. Chrysostom says: “One and the same passion drives us to love both money and bodies.” “Let it not even be named among you.” “He has sufficiently shown the repulsiveness of the enumerated vices by commanding that even their very names be erased from memory” (Theodoret). “For he knew that talk about these things is a kindling of the passion and a leading to deeds” (Oecumenius). “The Apostle wished them to be wholly pure and blameless, so that even their tongue might not be defiled by the pronunciation of such names” (Theophylact). Of the manifestations of the irascible passion he says: “let them be put away from you”; but of the works of lust he says: “let them not even be named.” The latter is a stronger prohibition, for he wishes that there be no mention of them at all, that even their names might be forgotten, so that when someone utters such names, the hearers would not understand what he is speaking of. “As is fitting for saints.” Thus it befits those who before the foundation of the world were chosen to be holy and blameless (Eph. 1:4), who, in receiving faith in the Lord, cleaving to Him, and receiving new life from Him, give a pledge of a clear conscience (1 Pet. 3:21), who are bound to strive for purity in every regard, who have been placed in a state of purity and strength for its preservation, and have received life in it.

Holiness is the filling of the heart with all virtues, but it is proved above all by purity from fleshly impulses and inclinations. This is why the holy Paul, writing to the Thessalonians, says: this is the will of God for you—“your sanctification.” And wherein does sanctification consist? — “keeping yourselves from fornication” (1 Thess. 4:3). So highly does he regard purity that he appoints it as the final goal of our very calling, saying: “God has not called us to uncleanness, but to holiness” (1 Thess. 4:7). And writing to the Corinthians, he urges them to flee fornication especially because our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us (1 Cor. 6:18, 19). Therefore he threatens those who defile this temple with punishment from above: “Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him; for the temple of God is holy, which temple you are” (1 Cor. 3:16, 17). The Spirit of God, coming, restores man to his original dignity—life in God. This life, received and felt, detaches one from everything sensual and fleshly, as if cutting one off from it. Thus life in God, holiness, purity, and being filled with the Spirit stand on one line in the Christian life, manifesting and operating simultaneously.

Eph. 5:4. And filthiness, and foolish talking, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting—but rather thanksgiving.

All this too must have no place among you. “Filthiness” — αἰσχρότης — properly speaking, shamefulness: shameful manners, glances, movements, dress, all shameful behavior, or licentiousness that testifies to impurity and provokes to it. But of course, the pre-eminent expression of this shamefulness is obscene speech—shameful talk, with which shameful deeds typically begin. “Foolish talking” — μωρολογία — stupid, senseless, empty talk. “Coarse jesting” — εὐτραπελία — a passion for witticisms, jokes, and buffoonery. “Which are not fitting”—this should be rendered: these improprieties—that is, they too must not even be named among you. Such things are not fitting for us. We have pledged to live holily, working out our salvation in fear of God. How can such talk be appropriate among us?! We have dedicated ourselves to God, sealed with the seal of the Holy Spirit; and when we give free rein to empty, buffoonish, and obscene words, defiling by them the souls of others and stirring up in them lustful thoughts and impulses, we commit sacrilege, we sin against God. It is the same as applying a sacred vessel to an unclean use. Let each one remember what was the fate of Belshazzar!

Among all the holy ascetics we find the indication that idle talk and buffoonery stand in direct connection with lust. One who plays the buffoon is himself in a state of lust, which through his idle talk he spreads to those around him. Chrysostom says: “Do not utter words, whether jesting or shameful—and you will quench the flame, for words lead to deeds. As there (above, speaking against the irascible passion) the Apostle destroyed quarrels that sustain wrath, so now he cuts off obscenity and jesting that lead to licentiousness.”

“But rather thanksgiving”—that is, let it be expressed in speech and let it be heard. This is what the conversation of Christians ought to be filled with! When something especially remarkable occurs, the talk in society is of nothing else. But what can be more remarkable than that which has made Christians to be Christians? God Himself bowed the heavens and descended, in order to raise us up to the heavens; we are all already called to this, and we live on earth for no other reason than to prepare ourselves better for life in heaven, where our prepared dwelling places already await us. Take this to heart—and you will find no desire to speak of anything else, moved by feelings of thanksgiving for the unspeakable mercies of God. One who has received a royal appointment—to appear at the palace in order to serve and live there—thinks of nothing but how to arrange everything for that life as quickly as possible, and his gratitude to the king knows no bounds. Both he and those who know him speak of nothing but his gracious appointment, and all give thanks to the king. Our position, all of us Christians, is exactly the same. It is therefore very natural to say that from our mouths ought to come forth above all thanksgiving to God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ with the Holy Spirit, for the salvation granted to us and working in us—if we do not hinder it by our own foolishness.

No one will dispute this, nor that obscene and foolish talk is unseemly—but that jesting, witticisms, and laughter ought to be banished from Christian company—not everyone accepts this. Chrysostom noticed this and argues at length against such a judgment and practice. Let us transcribe some of his propositions.

“What is the use of telling a joke? It only stirs up laughter. Let there be not a single idle word, since from idle talk one can pass to indecent conversation. Now is not the time for amusements, but for mourning, grief, and lamentation. Yet you jest! What fighter, entering the arena, abandons his struggle with his opponent and tells jokes? The devil walks near you, roaring to devour you, stirring up everything and turning everything against you, devising how to drive you out of your refuge, gnashing his teeth, howling, fanning the fire against your salvation—and you sit there telling jokes, talking nonsense, and uttering indecent words?! Can you overcome him? We are playing like children, beloved!”

“Christ was crucified on the cross because of your evil deeds—and you laugh? He endured blows and suffered so much because of your miseries and the storm that had engulfed you—and you make merry? And do you not thereby offend Him all the more? Let us see what a saint ought to be like: he ought to be quiet, meek, sorrowful, weeping, contrite. Therefore, one who tells jokes is no saint, and such a person is ridiculous. This is only permissible for stage players. Where there is shamelessness, there are also jokes. Listen to what the Prophet says: ‘Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice in Him with trembling’ (Ps. 2:11). Frivolity makes the soul weak, lazy, and sluggish. It is good when the soul is sober—it cannot be led astray; but who cannot lead astray a soul that is distracted? It will deceive itself, and the wiles and attacks of the devil will not even be needed. Many evils nest in a soul addicted to jokes—great distraction and emptiness; order is disrupted, well-being is weakened, fear disappears, godliness retreats. Your tongue was given you not to mimic others, but to give thanks to God. Let us banish this custom from our tables. Having banished this custom from everywhere, let us say what is fitting for us, and let not holy mouths utter words suited to dishonorable and shameful lips. ‘For what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what communion has light with darkness?’ (2 Cor. 6:14).”

“Thus, having put these two states of the soul in order and subjected them to reason as obedient horses—I mean lust and wrath—let us set the mind over them as charioteer, so that we may receive the reward of the high calling, which may we be found worthy to receive in Christ Jesus our Lord.”