John Chrysostom, On the Parable of the Prodigal Son

Thus as he supplicated from the depth of his heart, He saw him Who sees those who transgress, and overlooks those who sin, and awaits their repentance; his father saw him, and had compassion. For he was a Father in kindness, even if he was God in nature. And he ran and fell upon his neck, and kissed him. He did not wait for the offender to come near, but he himself eagerly went to meet him. And he was not disgusted by his neck, as if it were mottled and stained with the blemishes of prodigality; but embracing him with his pure hands he kissed insatiably the one long yearned for. O the ineffable and awesome compassion! O the wondrous love for mankind! O the strange reconciliations! He immediately persuaded God in a single instant both to condescend to his tears and to overlook so great a multitude of sins. Were you amazed seeing God flattering a sinner? O the affection of the fatherly heart! a sinner wept upon the earth, and the only sinless one from heaven inclined himself toward love for mankind.

Who has ever seen a sinner being flattered by God; who has ever seen the judge tending to the convict? who has ever seen one condemned being flattered? But yet God entreats, as he once did Israel. My people, he says, what wrong have I done to you, or in what have I wearied you? And now the same things happen, and have happened, since the Father of mercies and God of all comfort is thus accustomed to be conquered by himself. However, this prodigal son was not satisfied with these things; but being prodigal even in the good things of repentance, he did not think that such great love for mankind was sufficient for his complete salvation in view of the multitude of sins committed; but what he had rehearsed to say to his father, these things, being 59.519 present, he also spoke with a fitting demeanor: Father, if it is at all permissible for me to call you father; if I am not sinning in this also, along with my other failings, by calling you father; if by this title I am not insulting the uninsultable name; if conscience does not shut my lips; if the manner of my action does not bind my tongue; if my life does not hinder my speech; receive, holy Father, a foul prayer from a foul mouth. Father by grace, and creator by nature, “I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am not worthy to be called your son.” I have sinned, I confess my transgressions, I do not hide what you see, I do not deny what you know; as one accountable I stand before you, as a lawbreaker I am condemned; as judge have mercy on me. I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am afraid to raise my eyes to heaven; for I fear the form of the firmament, as the voice of an accuser; I am cautious of gazing at the light of divinity, having the eyes of my mind defiled. I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am not worthy to be called your son. Behold, I proclaim myself, I condemn myself, I pass sentence against myself.

I do not need a judge for a decision, I do not need accusers for a refutation, I do not need witnesses for written proofs; within I have conscience presiding, I bear the inexorable judge in my soul, the fearful tribunal; in my conscience I carry about the witnesses, bringing the accusers in my own eyes; my theaters accuse, my horse-races cry out against me, the spectacles of those who fight wild beasts shout me down; prodigality triumphs over me, my deeds denounce me, my present nakedness reveals me, the very rags of shame, with which I am clothed, disgrace me, and I am not worthy to be called your son; Make me as one of your hired servants. Neither send me away from your courtyard, Master, lest the enemy, finding me wandering again, should lead me away as a captive; nor draw me near your fearful and mystical table; for I do not dare with accursed eyes to see the holy things of the saints. Let me stand with the catechumens, inside the doors of the church, so that by observing the mysteries celebrated in it, I may by degrees long for

Οὕτως ἱκετεύοντα ἐκ βάθους τῆς καρδίας εἶδεν αὐτὸν ὁ βλέπων πλημμελοῦντας, καὶ παραβλέπων ἁμαρτάνοντας, καὶ περιμένων αὐτῶν τὴν μετάνοιαν· εἶδεν αὐτὸν ὁ πατὴρ αὐτοῦ, καὶ ἐσπλαγχνίσθη. Πατὴρ γὰρ ἦν τῇ χρηστότητι, εἰ καὶ Θεὸς ὑπῆρχε τῇ φύσει. Καὶ δραμὼν ἔπεσεν ἐπὶ τὸν τράχηλον αὐτοῦ, καὶ κατεφίλησεν αὐτόν. Οὐκ ἀνέμεινε τὸν προσκρούσαντα πλησίον ἐλθεῖν, ἀλλ' αὐτὸς αὐτῷ προαπήντησε προθύμως. Καὶ οὐκ ἐβδελύξατο τὸν τράχηλον αὐτοῦ, ὡς ταῖς κηλῖσι τῆς ἀσωτίας κατάστικτον καὶ μεμιαμμένον· ἀλλὰ ταῖς ἀχράντοις αὐτοῦ χερσὶ περιλαβὼν κατεφίλησεν ἀπλήστως τὸν πάλαι ποτὲ ποθούμενον. Ὢ τῆς ἀφάτου τε καὶ φοβερᾶς εὐσπλαγχνίας! ὢ παραδόξου φιλανθρωπίας! ὢ ξένων καταλλαγῶν! Ἔπεισεν εὐθὺς τὸν Θεὸν εἰς ῥοπὴν μίαν μόνην καὶ συγκαταβῆναι τοῖς δάκρυσι, καὶ παραδραμεῖν πλῆθος τοσοῦτον. Ἐθαύμασας ἐνορῶν Θεὸν κολακεύοντα ἁμαρτωλόν; Ὢ τῆς στοργῆς τῶν σπλάγχνων τῶν πατρικῶν! ἁμαρτωλὸς ἐπὶ γῆς ἐδάκρυσε, καὶ ὁ μόνος ἀναμάρτητος οὐρανόθεν ἑαυτὸν πρὸς τὴν φιλανθρωπίαν ἐπέκλινε.

Τίς εἶδέ ποτε ἁμαρτωλὸν ὑπὸ Θεοῦ κολακευόμενον· τίς εἶδέ ποτε τὸν δικαστὴν κατάδικον θεραπεύοντα; τίς εἶδέ ποτε κατάκριτον κολακευόμενον; Ἀλλ' ὅμως ὁ Θεὸς παρακαλεῖ, ὥς ποτε τὸν Ἰσραήλ. Λαός μου, φησὶ, τί ἠδίκησά σε, ἢ τί παρηνώχλησά σοι; Καὶ νῦν τὰ αὐτὰ γίνεται, καὶ ἐγένετο, ἐπειδὴ οὕτως εἴωθεν ὑφ' ἑαυτοῦ νικᾶσθαι ὁ Πατὴρ τῶν οἰκτιρμῶν καὶ Θεὸς πάσης παρακλήσεως. Οὐ μὴν ἠρκέσθη τούτοις ὁ ἄσωτος οὗτος υἱός· ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν τοῖς τῆς μετανοίας ἀγαθοῖς ἄσωτος ὢν, οὐδὲ ἐνόμισεν αὐτῷ πρὸς τὸ πλῆθος τῶν ἁμαρτηθέντων τὴν τοσαύτην φιλανθρωπίαν πρὸς τὴν τελείαν σωτηρίαν ἀρκεῖν· ἀλλ' ἅπερ ἐμελέτησεν εἰπεῖν τῷ πατρὶ, ταῦτα καὶ πα 59.519 ρὼν διελέγετο μετὰ τοῦ πρέποντος σχήματος· πάτερ, εἴ γε ὅλως ἔξεστί μοι πατέρα σε εἰπεῖν· εἰ μὴ καὶ τοῦτο μετὰ τῶν ἄλλων μου πταισμάτων, καλῶν σε πατέρα, ἐξαμαρτάνω· εἰ μὴ ὑβρίζω τῇ κλήσει τὸ ἀνύβριστον ὄνομα· εἰ μὴ κλείει μου τὰ χείλη τὸ συνειδός· εἰ μὴ δεσμεῖ μου τὴν γλῶτταν ὁ τρόπος τῆς πράξεως· εἰ μὴ κωλύει μου τὸν λόγον ὁ βίος· δέξαι, πάτερ ἅγιε, δέησιν ῥυπαρὰν ἐκ στόματος ῥυπαροῦ. Πάτερ κατὰ χάριν, καὶ δημιουργὲ κατὰ φύσιν, «Ἥμαρτον εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ ἐνώπιόν σου, καὶ οὐκ εἰμὶ ἄξιος κληθῆναι υἱός σου». Ἥμαρτον, ὁμολογῶ τὰ παραπτώματά μου, οὐ κρύπτω ἅπερ βλέπεις, οὐκ ἀρνοῦμαι ἅπερ ἐπίστασαι· ὡς ὑπεύθυνος πρόκειμαι, ὡς παράνομος κατακρίνομαι· ὡς κριτὴς ἐλέησόν με. Ἥμαρτον εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ ἐνώπιόν σου. ∆έδοικα εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν τὰ ὄμματά μου ἀνατεῖναι· φοβοῦμαι γὰρ τοῦ στερεώματος τὴν μορφὴν, ὡς κατηγόρου φωνήν· εὐλαβοῦμαι ἐνατενίσαι τῷ φωτὶ θεότητος, ῥυπαροὺς ἔχων τοὺς τῆς διανοίας ὀφθαλμούς. Ἥμαρτον εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ ἐνώπιόν σου, καὶ οὐκ εἰμὶ ἄξιος κληθῆναι υἱός σου. Ἰδοὺ ἐμαυτὸν ἀνακηρύττω, ἐμαυτὸν κατακρίνω, κατ' ἐμαυτοῦ ἀποφαίνομαι.

Οὐ δέομαι δικαστοῦ πρὸς ἀπόφασιν, οὐ δέομαι κατηγόρων πρὸς ἔλεγχον, οὐ δέομαι μαρτύρων πρὸς ἔγγραφα· ἔνδον ἔχω προκαθήμενον τὸ συνειδὸς, τὸν ἀπαραίτητον δικαστὴν ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ βαστάζω, τὸ φοβερὸν δικαστήριον· ἐν τῷ συνειδότι περιφέρω τοὺς μάρτυρας, ἐν τοῖς ἐμοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς τοὺς κατηγόρους ἐπάγων· τὰ θέατρά μου κατηγορεῖ, αἱ ἱπποδρομίαι μου κατακράζουσιν, αἱ θεωρίαι τῶν θηριομαχούντων καταβοωσί μοι· ἡ ἀσωτία θριαμβεύει με, αἱ πράξεις μου στηλιτεύουσί με, ἡ παροῦσα γυμνότης φανεροῖ με, αὐτὰ τὰ ῥάκη τῆς αἰσχύνης, ἃ περιβέβλημαι, καταισχύνει με, καὶ οὐκ εἰμὶ ἄξιος κληθῆναι υἱός σου· Ποίησόν με ὡς ἕνα τῶν μισθίων σου. Μήτε τῆς αὐλῆς σου ἀποπέμψῃς με, ∆έσποτα, ἵνα μὴ πάλιν ὁ πολέμιος εὑρών με πεπλανημένον, ὡς αἰχμάλωτον ἀπαγάγῃ· μήτε πλησίον ἑλκύσῃς με τῆς φοβερᾶς σου καὶ μυστικὴς τραπέζης· οὐ γὰρ τολμῶ ὀφθαλμοῖς ἐναγέσιν ὁρᾷν τῶν ἁγίων τὰ ἅγια. Ἔασόν με στῆναι μετὰ τῶν κατηχουμένων, τῶν θυρῶν τῆς ἐκκλησίας ἔνδον, ἵνα θεωρῶν τὰ ἐν αὐτῇ τελούμενα μυστήρια, ποθήσω κατὰ μικρὸν