The First Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians — Large Print

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF CLEMENT TO THE CORINTHIANS

Introduction

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF CLEMENT TO THE CORINTHIANS

Introduction

Imagine receiving a letter — not an email, not a text message, but a carefully composed, deeply reasoned, passionately argued letter — from one of the most important Christian communities in the ancient world, written at a moment of genuine crisis, intended to pull a fractured congregation back from the edge of self-destruction. Imagine that letter surviving nearly two thousand years, passed from hand to hand, copied by devoted scribes, treasured by communities who recognized in its words something essential and enduring about what it means to be the church. That is precisely what you are holding in your hands as you prepare to read this extraordinary document, one of the oldest pieces of Christian writing outside the New Testament itself.

The letter known to history as First Clement occupies a singular and fascinating position in the landscape of early Christian literature. Written toward the end of the first century — most scholars place its composition somewhere between 80 and 100 CE, with a strong consensus gravitating toward the final decade of the first century, during the reign of the Emperor Domitian — it emerges from a world still raw with the memory of the apostles, still navigating the enormous challenge of what it meant to be a follower of Jesus Christ in a Roman Empire that regarded this new movement with suspicion, contempt, and occasional violent hostility. The men and women who first read this letter aloud in their gatherings had likely known people who had known Peter and Paul personally. The wounds of Nero's persecution were still within living memory. The destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE had reshaped the entire landscape of Jewish and Christian identity. This was not a settled, institutionalized religion with centuries of tradition behind it. This was a movement still finding its feet, still working out what it believed, still discovering what kind of structures and practices would allow it to survive and flourish.

Into this volatile and formative moment, the church at Rome writes to the church at Corinth. The occasion is a dispute — a serious, apparently bitter dispute — that has broken out within the Corinthian congregation. Certain members of the community have risen up against their established leaders, the presbyters or elders who have been duly appointed to shepherd the congregation. These leaders have been removed, apparently without adequate cause, and the Roman church writes with urgency and genuine alarm to address this situation. What might sound, at first glance, like a relatively minor piece of ecclesiastical politics turns out, on closer reading, to be something far more profound: a meditation on the nature of Christian community, the meaning of humility and service, the relationship between order and love, and the theological foundations that should govern how believers treat one another.

What makes this document so remarkable is not simply its age, though its antiquity alone would make it worthy of careful attention. What makes it remarkable is the quality of its thought, the richness of its scriptural engagement, the pastoral warmth that runs beneath its sometimes stern surface, and the extraordinary window it opens onto the life of the early church at a moment we might otherwise know very little about. Here we see Christians wrestling with questions of authority and legitimacy in ways that feel surprisingly contemporary. Here we encounter a theology of humility and mutual submission that challenges easy assumptions about power and status. Here we find a community reaching across geographical distance to help a sister community in distress, motivated not by a desire to dominate but by a genuine sense of shared responsibility for the health of the whole body of Christ.

The authorship of the letter is itself a matter of historical interest. The document itself does not name its author — it presents itself simply as a communication from the church of Rome to the church of Corinth, a corporate voice rather than an individual one. But very early in the tradition, the letter became associated with a man named Clement, identified as one of the early bishops or leading figures of the Roman church. Ancient sources, including Irenaeus of Lyon writing in the late second century, identify Clement as the author and place him in the succession of Roman leadership following the apostles Peter and Paul. Later tradition would make him the third or fourth bishop of Rome, a figure of considerable importance in the emerging structures of early Christian leadership.

Who was Clement? The honest answer is that we know frustratingly little about him with certainty. Some ancient sources suggest he may have had connections to the imperial household, perhaps even to the family of the Emperor Domitian. There is speculation, impossible to verify, that he may have been a freedman or a person of some social standing in Roman society. What we can say with confidence, based on the evidence of the letter itself, is that he was a person of considerable learning, deeply steeped in the Hebrew scriptures, familiar with both Jewish interpretive traditions and the broader intellectual culture of the Greco-Roman world. The letter demonstrates a mind that is at once theologically serious and practically wise, capable of sustained argument and genuine pastoral sensitivity. Whether Clement composed the letter personally, dictated it, or oversaw its composition while others put pen to papyrus, the personality that emerges from its pages is distinctive and compelling.

The recipients of the letter, the Christians of Corinth, carry their own weight of history and significance. Corinth was one of the most important cities in the Roman Empire, a major commercial hub situated at the strategic crossing point between mainland Greece and the Peloponnese, a city of remarkable cultural and ethnic diversity, a place where wealth and poverty existed in sharp proximity, where the full complexity of Roman imperial society played out in concentrated form. It was also, famously, one of the most challenging communities in the early church. Paul's letters to the Corinthians — two of which survive in the New Testament — paint a vivid picture of a congregation prone to factionalism, theological controversy, social division, and moral confusion. The problems Paul addressed in his correspondence with Corinth in the 50s CE had apparently not been permanently resolved. A generation or more later, the same tendencies toward division and the same willingness to set aside established leadership in favor of newer or more charismatic figures had reasserted themselves.

This continuity of challenge is itself instructive. It suggests that the difficulties the letter addresses are not merely accidental or peculiar to one community at one moment in time. They are, rather, perennial features of human communities — the tendency toward pride and self-assertion, the difficulty of accepting authority and correction, the human capacity to dress up personal ambition in the language of spiritual insight or righteous reform. The letter's enduring relevance across nearly two millennia is rooted in this recognition: that the problems it addresses are not historical curiosities but permanent features of the human condition, which is why communities of faith in every age have found in its pages something that speaks directly to their own experience.

The World That Shaped This Letter

To read this letter well is to read it in context, and the context is one of the most dramatic and consequential periods in all of human history. The final decades of the first century CE were a time of enormous upheaval and transformation. The Jewish War of 66 to 73 CE had ended with the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, an event of cataclysmic significance for both Judaism and the nascent Christian movement. The martyrdoms of Peter and Paul, likely occurring during the Neronian persecution of the mid-60s, had removed the founding generation of apostolic leadership. The communities they had planted and nurtured were now on their own, facing the challenge of maintaining their identity, their faith, and their cohesion without the living presence of those extraordinary founding figures.

The Roman Empire under Domitian, who ruled from 81 to 96 CE, was a place of particular anxiety for minority religious communities. Domitian's reign was marked by an increasingly aggressive assertion of imperial authority and divine status, and there is evidence — though the historical picture is complex and contested — of heightened pressure on both Jews and Christians during this period. The letter itself contains what appear to be references to recent persecutions, describing the sufferings that the Roman community has endured and explaining that these trials have delayed their earlier response to the crisis in Corinth. Reading between the lines, we glimpse a community that has been living under real threat, that has seen members suffer for their faith, and that writes to Corinth from a position of hard-won experience about what it costs to hold fast to one's convictions under pressure.

This context of persecution shapes the letter in profound ways. It gives particular urgency to the call for unity and mutual support. A community under external pressure cannot afford the luxury of internal division. The letter's insistence on order, on proper deference to established leadership, on the suppression of individual ambition for the sake of the common good — all of this makes immediate practical sense in a context where fragmentation could be literally fatal. But the letter does not argue for unity merely on pragmatic grounds. Its case is theological through and through, rooted in the nature of God, the example of Christ, and the patterns of order that the author sees woven into the fabric of creation itself.

One of the most striking features of the letter is its extraordinary engagement with the Hebrew scriptures. The author draws on a vast range of biblical material — Genesis, Exodus, the Psalms, the prophets, the wisdom literature — with a fluency and depth that speaks to a community for whom these texts were living and authoritative. This is a Christian community that has not yet developed a sharp sense of separation from its Jewish roots, that reads the Hebrew scriptures as its own inheritance and finds in the stories of the patriarchs, the prophets, and the great figures of Israel's history models and warnings directly applicable to its own situation. The story of Cain and Abel becomes a meditation on the destructive power of envy. The narrative of Moses becomes a lesson in humble leadership. The examples of faithful women — Judith, Esther, and others — are held up as models of courage and self-sacrifice. This rich scriptural tapestry gives the letter a depth and density that rewards slow, attentive reading.

Alongside this biblical material, the author also draws on traditions and imagery drawn from the broader Greco-Roman world. The famous passage comparing the church to the Roman army, with its careful hierarchy of command and its discipline of obedience, reflects a mind comfortable with the cultural world of the empire. References to natural phenomena — the orderly movements of the heavenly bodies, the regular succession of the seasons, the harmony of the natural world — draw on a tradition of reflection on cosmic order that was deeply embedded in ancient philosophical thought. The letter is, in this sense, a genuinely hybrid document, one that speaks simultaneously from within the Jewish scriptural tradition and from within the broader intellectual culture of the ancient Mediterranean world. It is an early and important example of the creative synthesis that would characterize the best of Christian intellectual life in the centuries that followed.

The theological vision of the letter is centered on what we might call the theology of divine order. God is presented as a God of harmony, of beauty, of proper arrangement — a God who has established patterns of order in creation, in the history of Israel, in the life of the church, and who calls human beings to reflect that order in their common life. This is not a cold or merely formal vision. The letter's God is also the God of mercy and compassion, the God who calls the wandering back, who forgives the penitent, who delights in the restoration of broken relationships. The call to order is always in the service of love, and the insistence on proper structure is always grounded in the recognition that human communities flourish when individuals are willing to subordinate their personal desires and ambitions to the common good.

Central to this theological vision is the figure of Jesus Christ, who is presented above all as the supreme example of humility and self-giving love. The letter does not engage in elaborate Christological speculation — this is not a document concerned with working out the precise relationship between the divine and human natures of Christ in the way that later councils would be. But it returns again and again to the pattern of Christ's life and death as the definitive model for Christian behavior. Christ did not come in pride or self-assertion but in humility and service. He gave himself for others. He calls his followers to the same pattern of self-emptying love. This Christological grounding of the ethical argument is one of the letter's most powerful features, and it prevents what might otherwise be a merely conservative defense of institutional authority from becoming something much richer and more demanding.

Why This Letter Still Matters

Having situated the letter in its historical and theological context, we are still left with the most important question of all: why should a modern reader — someone living in a world of smartphones and global communication, of democratic institutions and human rights discourse, of religious pluralism and widespread skepticism about institutional authority — why should such a reader care deeply about a letter written nearly two thousand years ago to address a dispute in a small Christian community in ancient Greece? The answer, I want to suggest, is that the letter speaks with remarkable directness to some of the deepest and most persistent challenges of human community life, and does so with a wisdom and a grace that have not been exhausted by the passage of time.

Consider the question of authority. Few questions are more contested in contemporary life than the question of how authority should be structured, exercised, and legitimated in human communities. We live in an age deeply suspicious of hierarchy, deeply committed to the values of individual autonomy and self-expression, deeply alert to the ways in which institutional power can be abused and corrupted. These are not foolish suspicions — history provides ample justification for them. And yet we also live in an age that is discovering, sometimes painfully, the costs of the dissolution of all authority, the fragmentation that results when every individual becomes the final arbiter of their own truth, the loneliness and disorientation that can follow when communities lose their capacity to hold their members accountable to shared standards and commitments. The letter does not resolve this tension — no single document could — but it engages it with a sophistication and a moral seriousness that can genuinely illuminate our own wrestling with these questions.

The letter's treatment of humility is particularly striking and, in some ways, counter-cultural even by the standards of its own time. The ancient Mediterranean world was a world deeply structured by honor and shame, by the pursuit of status and the fear of disgrace. Into this world, the letter insists with remarkable consistency that the greatest figures in the history of God's people — Moses, David, the apostles, and above all Christ himself — were marked not by their pursuit of honor and recognition but by their willingness to take the lowest place, to serve rather than to be served, to give rather than to grasp. This is not a counsel of passivity or self-abnegation for its own sake. It is a positive vision of what human greatness actually looks like when it is properly understood — greatness as the capacity to give oneself for others, to bear the burdens of the community, to exercise whatever gifts and authority one has in the service of the whole rather than for personal aggrandizement.

There is also something deeply moving about the sheer pastoral warmth that runs through the letter, beneath and alongside its sometimes stern argumentation. The author clearly loves the Corinthian community. The letter opens with an expression of genuine affection and regard, and it closes with a prayer of extraordinary beauty — one of the oldest Christian prayers outside the New Testament — that speaks of God's care for all creation and asks for the restoration of peace and harmony among God's people. Even when the letter is at its most direct and challenging, even when it is essentially telling the Corinthians that they have behaved badly and need to repent and make things right, there is a quality of genuine care in its tone that prevents it from becoming merely harsh or condemnatory. This combination of clarity and compassion, of honest diagnosis and genuine love, is itself a model worth attending to for anyone who has ever had to address difficult truths in a community they care about.

The letter's treatment of the relationship between the Roman and Corinthian churches is also historically significant and theologically interesting. This is one of the earliest examples we have of one Christian community intervening in the affairs of another, and the basis on which that intervention is justified is not primarily one of institutional authority — the letter does not claim that Rome has jurisdiction over Corinth in any formal legal sense — but rather one of shared responsibility and mutual concern. The Roman church writes because it cannot remain indifferent to the suffering and disorder of a sister community. It writes as a friend writes to a friend in trouble, with honesty and urgency but also with respect and love. This model of inter-community relationship, grounded in solidarity rather than domination, has much to teach communities of faith today as they navigate the complex questions of how to relate to one another across differences of geography, culture, and practice.

For students of church history, the letter is an invaluable primary source for understanding the development of early Christian ministry and leadership. The letter's discussion of the appointment of bishops and deacons, its appeal to what we might call apostolic succession as a basis for the legitimacy of established leaders, its distinction between different orders of ministry — all of this provides crucial evidence for reconstructing the institutional development of the early church at a moment when the structures that would eventually become normative were still in the process of formation. Scholars have debated for centuries exactly what the letter implies about the relationship between bishops and presbyters, about the nature and extent of Roman authority, about the degree to which a monarchical episcopate had already developed by the end of the first century. These are fascinating historical questions, and the letter is central to any serious engagement with them.

But the letter's importance is not limited to specialists in early church history. For anyone who takes seriously the Christian tradition and its resources for contemporary life, this document offers something genuinely valuable: a window into the mind and heart of the early church at a formative moment, a witness to the struggles and aspirations of the first generations of believers, and a treasury of theological and ethical wisdom that has not lost its power to challenge, inspire, and illuminate. The great figures of the Christian tradition — Origen, Clement of Alexandria, Eusebius, Jerome — knew and valued this letter. It was read in churches alongside the canonical scriptures in some communities for centuries. Its influence on the developing tradition of Christian thought and practice was real and significant.

Reading it today, we are joining a very long conversation — a conversation about what it means to live together in communities of faith, about how to hold together the claims of individual conscience and communal accountability, about the relationship between love and order, between freedom and structure, between the prophetic impulse and the institutional form. These are not questions that admit of easy or final answers, and the letter does not pretend that they do. What it offers instead is a model of how to engage these questions with seriousness, with scriptural depth, with theological integrity, and with genuine love for the community one is trying to serve.

As you prepare to read the pages that follow, I want to invite you to bring to them the same quality of attention and openness that the letter itself embodies. Read it slowly. Sit with its arguments. Allow its scriptural allusions to resonate. Notice the moments where it surprises you, where its vision of Christian community challenges your assumptions or illuminates something you had not previously seen clearly. Notice also the moments where it raises questions you want to push back on, where its perspective seems limited or its arguments incomplete. The letter is not the final word on any of the questions it addresses, but it is a genuinely wise and important word, and engaging with it seriously is one of the ways we honor the long tradition of Christian reflection and keep it alive and generative for our own time.

There is a reason this letter has survived when so much else from the ancient world has been lost. There is a reason it was treasured and copied and read aloud in communities of faith across many centuries and many cultures. That reason is not simply its antiquity or its historical significance, though both of those things matter. The deeper reason is that it speaks to something permanent in the human situation — the need for community, the temptation to division, the call to humility and service, the possibility of reconciliation and renewal. In these pages, across the vast distance of nearly two millennia, a voice speaks that is recognizably human and recognizably faithful, a voice that invites us into a conversation about what it means to live well together in the light of what we believe about God and about one another. That invitation is worth accepting. The conversation is worth joining. Turn the page, and begin.

THE FIRST EPISTLE OF CLEMENT TO THE CORINTHIANS

The Church of God dwelling in Rome, to the Church of God dwelling in Corinth — to those who are called and made holy by the will of God through our Lord Jesus Christ. May grace and peace from Almighty God through Jesus Christ be multiplied among you.

Because of the sudden and repeated misfortunes and setbacks that have been falling upon us, brothers, we feel that we have been somewhat slow in turning our attention to the disputes that have arisen among you, dear friends — and to the detestable and unholy strife, so utterly foreign and alien to the elect of God, which a few reckless and self-willed individuals have fanned into such a pitch of madness that your name, once revered and celebrated and beloved in the sight of all people, has been brought into serious disrepute.

For who ever visited you and did not admire your virtuous and steadfast faith? Who did not marvel at your sober and patient piety in Christ? Who did not speak abroad of your magnificent spirit of hospitality? Who did not count you blessed for your thorough and sound knowledge?

You did everything without favoritism, and you walked according to the ordinances of God, submitting yourselves to your leaders and giving the honor that was due to the older men among you. You charged the young to think modest and fitting thoughts, and you instructed the women to perform all their duties with a blameless, seemly, and pure conscience, cherishing their own husbands as was right, and you taught them to remain within the rule of obedience and to manage the affairs of their households with propriety and complete discretion.

You were all humble in mind and free from arrogance, more ready to yield than to demand submission, more glad to give than to receive, and content with the provisions God supplied. You listened carefully to his words, stored them diligently in your hearts, and kept his sufferings before your eyes.

In this way a deep and rich peace was given to all, along with an insatiable desire to do good. An abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit fell upon everyone,

and, filled with holy purpose, you stretched out your hands to Almighty God with earnest zeal and devout confidence, pleading with him to be merciful if you had ever sinned unwittingly.

Day and night you strove for the whole brotherhood, that the full number of his elect might be saved, with reverence and single-minded devotion.

You were sincere and straightforward and free from malice toward one another.

Every faction and every division was hateful to you. You grieved over the failings of your neighbors and counted their shortcomings as your own.

You never regretted doing good, but were always ready for every good work.

Adorned with a thoroughly virtuous and honorable way of life, you carried out all your duties in the fear of God. The commandments and ordinances of the Lord were written on the tablets of your hearts.

Every kind of glory and growth was given to you, and so was fulfilled what is written: "My beloved ate and drank and was enlarged and grew fat and kicked."

From this come jealousy and envy, strife and faction, persecution and disorder, war and captivity.

So people were stirred up — the lowly against the honorable, the disreputable against the respected, the foolish against the wise, the young against the old.

For this reason righteousness and peace stand far off, while each person has abandoned the fear of the Lord and grown blind in faith, neither walking in the ordinances of his commandments nor living as befits those who belong to Christ, but each following the desires of his own evil heart, since they have conceived an unrighteous and ungodly jealousy — through which, as scripture says, death entered into the world.

For it is written: "After some days, Cain brought an offering to God from the fruits of the earth, and Abel also brought an offering from the firstborn of his flock and from their fat."

God looked with favor on Abel and his gifts, but to Cain and his offerings he paid no heed.

Cain was deeply grieved, and his face fell.

And God said to Cain, "Why are you so downcast, and why has your face fallen? If you made your offering rightly but did not divide it rightly, did you not sin? Be still.

He shall turn to you, and you shall rule over him."

And Cain said to his brother Abel, "Let us go out into the field." And while they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him.

You see, brothers — jealousy and envy brought about a brother's murder.

It was because of jealousy that our father Jacob fled from the face of his brother Esau.

Jealousy caused Joseph to be persecuted to the point of death and brought him into slavery.

Jealousy forced Moses to flee from Pharaoh king of Egypt, when one of his own countrymen said to him, "Who made you a judge or a ruler over us? Do you want to kill me the way you killed the Egyptian yesterday?"

It was because of jealousy that Aaron and Miriam were shut outside the camp.

Jealousy brought Dathan and Abiram down alive into the grave, because they rebelled against Moses the servant of God.

It was because of jealousy that David was envied not only by the Philistines but was also persecuted by Saul.

But let us leave behind the examples of ancient times and come to those champions who lived closest to our own day. Let us set before ourselves the noble examples that belong to our own generation.

It was because of jealousy and envy that the greatest and most righteous pillars of the Church were persecuted and fought their way to death.

Let us set before our eyes the good Apostles.

There was Peter, who because of unrighteous jealousy endured not one or two but many hardships, and having thus borne his witness went to the glorious place he had earned.

Because of jealousy and strife, Paul showed by his own example what the prize of patient endurance looks like. He was put in chains seven times, driven into exile, stoned, and preached the gospel in the East and in the West — and so he won the noble renown that his faith deserved.

Having taught righteousness to the whole world and reached the farthest limits of the West, he bore his testimony before the rulers, and then departed from the world and went to the holy place, leaving behind a noble example of patient endurance.

To these men of holy lives was added a vast multitude of the elect, who through many indignities and tortures, being the victims of jealousy, set a brave example among us.

Because of jealousy, women were persecuted. Suffering cruel and shameful abuse in the manner of the Danaids and Dircae, they ran with steadfast faith to the finish line and, frail as they were in body, received a noble reward.

Jealousy has estranged wives from their husbands and twisted the words of our father Adam: "This now is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh."

Jealousy and strife have brought down great cities and uprooted great nations.

These things, dear friends, we write not only to admonish you but to remind ourselves as well. For we are in the same arena, and the same contest awaits us.

Let us therefore set aside idle and empty thoughts, and hold to the glorious and venerable rule that has been handed down to us.

Let us look to what is good and pleasing and acceptable in the sight of the One who made us.

Let us fix our eyes on the blood of Christ and understand how precious it is to his Father — for when it was shed for our salvation, it brought the grace of repentance to the whole world.

Let us look back through all the generations in turn and learn how, from age to age, the Master has given opportunity for repentance to all who wished to turn to him.

Noah preached repentance, and those who obeyed were saved.

Jonah preached destruction to the people of Nineveh; but they repented of their sins, pleaded with God, and received both pardon and salvation — though they were strangers to him.

The ministers of the grace of God spoke through the Holy Spirit about repentance.

And the Master of the universe himself spoke about repentance with an oath.

He said: "As I live, declares the Lord, I desire not the death of the sinner, but rather his repentance."

And he added this merciful appeal: "Repent, O house of Israel, of your iniquity. Say to the children of my people: Though your sins reach from the earth to the very heavens, and though they be redder than scarlet and blacker than sackcloth, yet if you turn to me with your whole heart and say, 'Father,' I will listen to you as to a holy people."

And in another place he says: "Wash yourselves and be clean. Remove your iniquities from my sight. Cease from your evil deeds; learn to do good; seek justice; defend the wronged; give judgment for the orphan and uphold the cause of the widow. Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord. Though your sins are like crimson, I will make them white as snow; though they are like scarlet, I will make them white as wool. If you are willing and obey me, you will eat the good things of the earth; but if you refuse and will not listen, the sword will devour you — for the mouth of the Lord has spoken."

Since he desires all his beloved to share in repentance, he confirmed it by an act of his almighty will.

Let us therefore be obedient to his excellent and glorious will. Let us come before him as suppliants, appealing to his mercy and goodness, and throw ourselves upon his compassion, turning away from the empty striving, the quarreling, and the jealousy that lead to death.

Let us fix our eyes on those who served his excellent glory with complete faithfulness.

Let us consider Enoch, who was found righteous in obedience and was taken up, so that death never touched him.

Noah, found faithful, proclaimed a new beginning to the world through his service, and through him the Master saved all the living creatures that entered the ark together in harmony.

Abraham, who was called "the friend," was found faithful in that he obeyed the words of God.

In obedience he left his land, his kindred, and his father's house, so that by leaving behind a small country, a modest family, and a humble home, he might inherit the promises of God.

For God said to him: "Leave your land and your kindred and your father's house, and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you, and through you all the families of the earth will be blessed."

And again, when Abraham had parted from Lot, God said to him: "Lift up your eyes and look from the place where you stand — to the north and the south, to the east and the sea. All the land you see I will give to you and to your descendants forever."

"And I will make your descendants as numerous as the dust of the earth. If anyone can count the dust of the earth, then your descendants too will be counted."

And again it is written: "God brought Abraham outside and said to him, Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you are able to number them. So shall your descendants be. And Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness."

Because of his faith and hospitality, a son was given to him in his old age, and in obedience he offered that son as a sacrifice to God on one of the mountains that God showed him.

Because of his hospitality and godliness, Lot was saved from Sodom when all the surrounding region was judged by fire and brimstone. In this the Master showed clearly that he does not abandon those who place their hope in him, but delivers to punishment and torment those who turn away.

Lot's wife had gone out with him, but her heart was divided and out of accord with his, and she was made a sign for all to see — she became a pillar of salt that stands to this day. This was so that all might know that those who are double-minded and who doubt the power of God are appointed as a judgment and a warning to every generation.

By her faith and her hospitality, Rahab the harlot was saved.

When Joshua son of Nun sent spies to Jericho, the king of the land learned that they had come to scout out his country, and he sent men to seize them and put them to death.

But the hospitable Rahab took them in and hid them in her upper room beneath the stalks of flax.

When the king's messengers came to her door and said, "The spies of our land came in to you — bring them out, for the king commands it," she answered, "The men you are looking for did come to me, but they left at once and are already on their way." And she sent the messengers off in the opposite direction.

Then she said to the spies, "I know with certainty that the Lord your God is delivering this city into your hands, for the terror and dread of you has fallen on all who live here. When you take it, therefore, spare me and my father's household."

They replied, "It shall be exactly as you have said. When we come, gather all your people under your roof and they will be saved; but anyone found outside the house will perish."

They also gave her a sign: she was to hang a scarlet thread from her house, which foreshadowed that through the blood of the Lord there would be redemption for all who believe and hope in God.

You see, dear friends, that in this woman there was not only faith but prophecy as well.

Let us therefore be humble in spirit, brothers, setting aside all arrogance, conceit, foolishness, and anger, and let us do what is written. For the Holy Spirit says, "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, nor the strong man in his strength, nor the rich man in his riches; but let the one who boasts boast in the Lord, that he may seek him out and do justice and righteousness." Above all, let us remember the words of the Lord Jesus, which he spoke as he taught patience and long-suffering.

For he said: "Show mercy, that you may receive mercy. Forgive, that you may be forgiven. As you do, so shall it be done to you. As you give, so shall it be given to you. As you judge, so shall you be judged. As you show kindness, so shall kindness be shown to you. With whatever measure you measure out, it will be measured back to you."

By this commandment and these precepts let us strengthen ourselves, so that we may walk in humble obedience to his holy words.

For the holy word says, "On whom shall I look, but on the one who is gentle and quiet and who trembles at my word?"

It is right and proper, therefore, brothers, that we should obey God rather than follow those who in arrogance and lawlessness have set themselves up as leaders, driven by abominable jealousy.

We will bring upon ourselves no ordinary harm, but very great danger, if we recklessly surrender ourselves to the designs of men who plunge into strife and faction and so draw us away from what is right.

Let us be kind to one another, in keeping with the compassion and gentleness of our Creator. For it is written:

"The good shall dwell in the land, and the innocent shall remain in it; but those who transgress shall be utterly cut off from it."

And again he says: "I saw the ungodly lifted up and towering like the cedars of Lebanon. I passed by, and behold, he was gone; I searched for his place and could not find it. Keep innocence and hold to uprightness, for there is a future for the man of peace."

Let us therefore hold fast to those who practice peace with genuine godliness, and not to those who profess peace while harboring deceit.

For he says in one place, "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me."

And again, "They blessed with their mouth, but they cursed in their heart."

And again he says, "They loved him with their mouth, and with their tongue they lied to him; their heart was not sincere toward him, nor were they faithful to his covenant."

Therefore, let the deceitful lips be silenced — those that speak wickedness against the righteous. And again: "May the Lord destroy all deceitful lips, the tongue that speaks proud things, even those who say, 'Let us make our tongue great; our lips are our own — who is lord over us?'"

"Because of the misery of the needy and the groaning of the poor, I will now arise, says the Lord. I will place him in safety; I will act boldly on his behalf."

For Christ is with those who are humble in spirit, not with those who exalt themselves over the flock.

The scepter of God's majesty — our Lord Jesus Christ — did not come in pomp or arrogance or pride, though he could have done so. He came in humility of spirit, just as the Holy Spirit spoke of him.

For it says: "Lord, who has believed our report? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? We proclaimed him in his presence. He was like a child, like a root in parched ground. He had no form, no glory. We looked on him, and he had no beauty or comeliness; his appearance was plain, diminished beyond that of other men. He was a man of wounds and of hard labor, who knew how to bear suffering, for his face was turned away. He was despised and held of no account."

He bears our sins and suffers pain for our sakes; and we counted Him as one in toil and in stripes and in affliction.

He was wounded for our sins and afflicted for our iniquities. The chastisement that brings us peace was upon Him. By His bruises we were healed.

We all went astray like sheep, each of us wandering off on his own path;

and the Lord gave Him over for our sins. He does not open His mouth, because He is afflicted. Like a sheep He was led to slaughter, and as a lamb is silent before its shearer, so He does not open His mouth. In His humiliation His judgment was taken away.

Who shall declare His generation? For His life is taken away from the earth.

For the iniquities of my people He has come to death.

I will give the wicked in exchange for His burial, and the rich in exchange for His death; for He committed no iniquity, nor was any deceit found in His mouth. And the Lord desires to cleanse Him from His stripes.

If you offer a sacrifice for sin, your soul shall see a long-lived offspring.

And the Lord desires to relieve the toil of His soul, to show Him light and to form Him with understanding, to justify a righteous One who is a good servant to many. And He shall bear their sins.

Therefore He shall inherit many, and shall divide the spoils of the strong; because His soul was delivered over to death, and He was numbered among the transgressors;

and He bore the sins of many, and for their sins He was delivered up.

And again He Himself says: But I am a worm and not a man, a reproach of men and an outcast of the people.

All who saw me mocked me; they spoke with their lips and wagged their heads, saying, He trusted in the Lord — let Him deliver him, let Him save him, since He delights in him.

You see, dearly beloved, what pattern has been set before us. If the Lord was so humble in spirit, what ought we to do — we who through Him have been brought under the yoke of His grace?

Let us also follow the example of those who went about in goatskins and sheepskins, proclaiming the coming of Christ. We mean Elijah and Elisha, and likewise Ezekiel, the prophets, and besides them all those others who received a good testimony.

Abraham received an outstanding testimony and was called the friend of God; and yet, gazing steadfastly on the glory of God, he said in humility of spirit, But I am dust and ashes.

Moreover, concerning Job it is written: Job was righteous and blameless, a man of integrity who feared God and turned away from all evil.

Yet he himself says in self-accusation: No one is clean from defilement — no, not even if his life lasts but a single day.

Moses was called faithful in all God's house, and through his ministry God judged Egypt with the plagues and torments that fell upon them. Yet he too, though greatly glorified, spoke no proud words, but said when an oracle was given to him at the burning bush, Who am I, that you should send me?

I am feeble of speech and slow of tongue. And again he says, But I am like smoke from a pot.

But what shall we say of David, who received so great a testimony? Of him God said, I have found a man after my own heart, David the son of Jesse; with eternal mercy I have anointed him.

Yet he too says to God: Have mercy on me, O God, according to your great mercy; and according to the multitude of your compassions, blot out my iniquity.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my iniquity, and my sin is ever before me. Against you alone did I sin, and I did what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and prevail when you are judged.

For behold, I was conceived in iniquity, and in sin my mother bore me. For behold, you have loved truth; the dark and hidden things of your wisdom you have revealed to me.

You will sprinkle me with hyssop, and I shall be made clean. You will wash me, and I shall become whiter than snow.

You will make me hear joy and gladness. The bones that have been humbled shall rejoice.

Turn your face away from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.

Create a clean heart within me, O God, and renew a right spirit in my innermost being. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and strengthen me with a willing spirit.

I will teach sinners your ways, and the godless shall be converted to you.

Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation. My tongue shall rejoice in your righteousness.

Lord, you will open my mouth, and my lips shall declare your praise.

For if you had desired sacrifice, I would have given it; in whole burnt offerings you take no pleasure.

A sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit; a contrite and humbled heart God will not despise.

The humility and submissiveness of so many great men who have thus received a good testimony has, through their obedience, made better not only us but also the generations before us — even those who received God's oracles in fear and truth.

Since, then, we have been made partakers of many great and glorious deeds, let us press on to return to the goal of peace that has been handed down to us from the beginning. Let us look steadfastly to the Father and Maker of the whole world, and hold fast to His splendid and excellent gifts of peace and blessing.

Let us contemplate Him in our minds and look with the eyes of our souls upon His patient will. Let us consider how free from anger He is toward all His creation.

The heavens move at His direction and obey Him in peace.

Day and night complete the course He has assigned them, neither hindering the other.

The sun and the moon and the dancing stars circle in harmony within their appointed bounds, according to His decree, without the slightest deviation.

The earth bears fruit in fulfillment of His will at her proper seasons, bringing forth food in abundance for men and beasts and all living creatures upon her, without dissension or any alteration of what He has decreed.

The fathomless depths of the abyss and the unutterable laws of the underworld are governed by those same ordinances.

The vast basin of the boundless sea, gathered by His workmanship into its reservoirs, does not overflow the barriers set around it, but does exactly as He commanded.

For He said, "Thus far shall you come, and your waves shall be broken within you."

The ocean that no human can cross, and the worlds beyond it, are governed by those same ordinances of the Master.

Spring and summer and autumn and winter give way to one another in succession and in peace.

The winds blow from their appointed quarters in their proper season and fulfill their ministry without disturbance. The ever-flowing springs, created for our enjoyment and health, never fail to offer their waters to sustain human life. Even the smallest living creatures meet together in harmony and peace.

All these things the great Creator and Master of the universe ordained to exist in peace and harmony, doing good to all things, but most abundantly to us who have taken refuge in His compassionate mercies through our Lord Jesus Christ,

to whom be glory and majesty forever and ever. Amen.

Take heed, brothers, lest His many benefits turn to judgment upon us all, if we do not live worthily of Him and do what is good and pleasing in His sight, in harmony with one another.

For He says in a certain place, "The Spirit of the Lord is a lamp that searches the innermost depths of the heart."

Let us consider how near He is, and that none of our thoughts or plans are hidden from Him.

It is right, therefore, that we should not desert His will.

Let us rather give offense to foolish and senseless men who exalt themselves and boast in the arrogance of their words, than give offense to God.

Let us fear the Lord Jesus, whose blood was given for us. Let us respect our rulers, honor our elders, and instruct our young men in the fear of God. Let us guide our women toward what is good.

Let them display the lovely virtue of purity, demonstrate a genuine and gentle spirit, show restraint of tongue through their silence, and express their love not in partisan favoritism but with equal goodwill toward all who fear God, in holiness. Let our children share in the instruction that is in Christ.

Let them learn how humility of mind prevails with God, what power chaste love has with God, and how the fear of Him is good and great and saves all who walk in it with a pure and holy mind.

For He searches out our intentions and desires. His breath is in us, and whenever He wills, He can take it away.

All these things are confirmed by faith in Christ, for He Himself through the Holy Spirit invites us thus: "Come, my children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.

What man is there who desires life and longs to see good days?

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.

Turn away from evil and do good.

Seek peace and pursue it.

The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears are open to their prayers. But the face of the Lord is set against those who do evil, to cut off all memory of them from the earth.

The righteous man cried out, and the Lord heard him and delivered him from all his troubles. Many are the troubles of the righteous, but the Lord will deliver him from them all.

And again: Many are the blows that fall on the sinner, but those who set their hope on the Lord will be surrounded by His mercy."

The Father, who is compassionate in all things and eager to do good, has compassion on those who fear Him, and kindly and lovingly bestows His grace on those who draw near to Him with a sincere heart.

Therefore let us not be double-minded, and let us not allow our souls to entertain vain doubts about His surpassing and glorious gifts.

Let that scripture be far from us where He says, "Wretched are the double-minded, those who doubt in their soul and say, 'We heard these things in our fathers' time as well, and look, we have grown old, and none of it has happened to us.'"

"You fools, compare yourselves to a tree — take a vine. First it sheds its leaves, then a shoot appears, then a leaf, then a blossom, and after these a sour berry, and then a fully ripened grape. You see that in a little time the fruit of the tree reaches maturity.

Truly, His will shall be accomplished quickly and suddenly, and scripture itself bears witness to this, saying, 'He shall come quickly and shall not delay; and the Lord shall come suddenly into His temple, even the Holy One whom you await.'"

Let us understand, dear friends, how the Master continually points us toward the resurrection that is to come, of which He made the Lord Jesus Christ the firstfruit when He raised Him from the dead.

Let us look, dear friends, at the resurrection that occurs in its proper season.

Day and night show us the resurrection. Night falls asleep, and day arises; day departs, and night comes on.

Let us observe the fruits of the earth — how and in what manner the sowing takes place.

The sower goes out and casts each of the seeds into the earth. They fall into the earth dry and bare, and decay; but out of their decay the power of the Master's providence raises them up, and from being one they multiply and bear fruit.

Let us consider the remarkable sign that is seen in the eastern regions, in the parts around Arabia.

There is a bird called the phoenix. It is the only one of its kind, and it lives for five hundred years. When the time of its death draws near, it makes itself a coffin of frankincense and myrrh and other spices, and when the time is full it enters in and dies.

But as the flesh decays, a certain worm is born, nourished by the moisture of the dead creature, and it puts forth wings. When it has grown strong, it takes up the coffin containing the bones of its parent and carries them all the way from Arabia to Egypt, to the place called the City of the Sun.

There, in broad daylight and in the sight of everyone, it flies to the altar of the Sun and lays the bones upon it, and then sets out on its return journey.

The priests then examine the records of the dates and find that it has arrived when the five hundredth year is complete.

Do we think it a great and marvelous thing, then, if the Creator of the universe brings about the resurrection of those who have served him in holiness and in the confidence of a good faith — seeing that he shows us, even through a bird, the magnificence of his promise?

For he says in a certain place, "You shall raise me up, and I will praise you"; and, "I lay down and slept; I awoke, for you are with me."

And again Job says, "You shall raise up this flesh of mine, which has endured all these things."

With this hope, then, let our souls be bound to him who is faithful in his promises and righteous in his judgments.

He who commanded that there should be no lying will himself not lie — for nothing is impossible with God except to lie.

Therefore let our faith in him be kindled within us, and let us understand that all things are near to him.

By a word of his majesty he brought the universe into being, and by a word he can destroy it.

Who can say to him, "What have you done?" or who can resist the might of his strength? When he wills, and as he wills, he does all things, and nothing he has decreed shall pass away.

All things are in his sight, and nothing escapes his counsel,

since "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day speaks to day, and night imparts knowledge to night; and there are no words or speeches whose voices are not heard."

Since all things are seen and heard by him, let us fear him and abandon the shameful desires of evil deeds, so that we may be sheltered by his mercy from the judgments that are coming.

For where can any of us flee from his mighty hand? And what world will receive any of those who desert his service?

For the holy scripture says in a certain place, "Where shall I go, and where shall I hide from your face? If I ascend into heaven, you are there; if I go to the farthest ends of the earth, your right hand is there; if I make my bed in the depths, your Spirit is there."

Where, then, can anyone go, or where can anyone flee, from him who encompasses the universe?

Let us therefore draw near to him with holiness of soul, lifting up pure and undefiled hands to him, with love toward our gentle and compassionate Father who has made us a chosen portion for himself.

For it is written: "When the Most High divided the nations, when he dispersed the sons of Adam, he fixed the boundaries of the nations according to the number of the angels of God. His people Jacob became the Lord's portion, and Israel the measure of his inheritance."

And in another place he says, "Behold, the Lord takes for himself a nation from among the nations, as a man takes the firstfruits of his threshing floor; and the holy of holies shall come forth from that nation."

Seeing, then, that we are the special portion of a holy God, let us do everything that belongs to holiness, turning away from evil speech, from shameful and impure embraces, from drunkenness and disorder and hateful lusts, from abominable adultery and detestable pride.

For God, he says, "resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble."

Let us therefore hold fast to those to whom God's grace is given. Let us clothe ourselves in harmony, being humble and self-controlled, keeping ourselves free from all gossip and slander, being justified by deeds and not by words.

For he says, "He who talks much shall hear much in return. Does the ready talker think himself righteous?"

"Blessed is the one born of a woman who lives but a short time. Do not be excessive in your words."

Let our praise come from God and not from ourselves, for God hates those who praise themselves.

Let the testimony to our good conduct come from others, as it came to our fathers who were righteous.

Boldness, arrogance, and audacity belong to those who are cursed by God; but patience, humility, and gentleness belong to those who are blessed by God.

Let us therefore hold fast to his blessing, and consider what the ways of blessing are. Let us look carefully at the record of what has happened from the beginning.

Why was our father Abraham blessed? Was it not because he practiced righteousness and truth through faith?

Isaac, knowing what was to come, went willingly and with confidence as a sacrifice.

Jacob, in humility, left his homeland because of his brother, went to Laban and served him, and was given the twelve tribes of Israel.

If anyone considers these things one by one with sincerity, he will understand the magnificence of the gifts that God has given.

For from Jacob come all the priests and Levites who minister at the altar of God; from him comes the Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh; from him come kings and rulers and governors in the line of Judah; and the rest of his tribes are held in no small honor, since God promised, saying, "Your seed shall be as the stars of heaven."

All of them, therefore, were glorified and magnified not through themselves, or their own works, or the righteous deeds they performed, but through God's will.