Saint John Chyrsostom: Homily on Saint Paul's Second Letter to the Corinthians

Yesterday, September 14, we celebrated the feast day of Saint John Chrysostom (344-407), Bishop of Constantinople, and Doctor of the Church. The power of Saint John’s words, and the eloquence of his sermons earned him his surname, which translated literally means “the golden mouthed.” Saint John preached the Gospel to all who would listen, drawing attention to the needs of the poor, and advocating for great social change on the part of the rich and noble classes. As such, he was exiled twice, but never gave up preaching the Gospel message, even while banished from his homeland. Saint John is the recognized as the Eastern Father of the Church.


We continue our postings of Saint John Chrysostom’s writings and homilies today, pausing to reflect on his contemplations and interpretations of Saint Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians.

Again Paul turns to speak of love, softening the harshness of his rebuke. For after convicting and reproaching them for not loving him as he had loved them, breaking away from his love and attaching themselves to troublemakers, he again takes the edge off the reproach by saying: Open your hearts to us, that is, love us. He asks for a favour which will be no burden to them but will be more profitable to the giver than to the receiver. And he did not use the word “love” but said, more appealingly: Open your hearts to us.


Who, he said, has cast us out of your minds, thrust us from your hearts? How is it that you feel constraint with us? For, since he has said earlier: You are restricted in your own affection, he now declares himself more openly and says: Open your heart to us, thus once more drawing them to him. For nothing so much wins love as the knowledge that one’s lover desires most of all to be himself loved.

For I said before, he tells them, that you are in our hearts to die together or live together. This is love at its height, that even though in disfavour, he wishes both to die and to live with them. For you are in our hearts, not just somehow or other, but in the way I have said. It is possible to love and yet to draw back when danger threatens; but my love is not like that.


I am filled with consolation. What consolation? That which comes from you because you, being changed for the better, have consoled me by what you have done. It is natural for a lover both to complain that he is not loved in return and to fear that he may cause distress by complaining too much. Therefore, he says: I am filled with consolation, I rejoice exceedingly.

It is as if he said, I was much grieved on your account, but you have made it up for me in full measure and given me comfort; for you have not only removed the cause for any grief but filled me with a richer joy.


Then he shows the greatness of that joy by saying not only I rejoice exceedingly but also the words which follow: in all my tribulations. So great, he says, was the delight that you gave me that it was not even dimmed by so much tribulation, but overcame by its strength and keenness all those sorrows which had invaded my heart, and took away from me all awareness of them.