John Chrysostom, Sermon 3 on Genesis

to the birds which I wished I commanded; all creation looked upon me as its master. I have been 56.534 alienated from these things as a transgressor; I was banished from luxury as a slave; I was driven from your joy as a lawless one; I was driven from your dwelling as a runaway. What shall I weep for first, what second? the loss of your beauty? the unceasing joy? the carefree life? the undefiled glory? the alienation from the angels? the loss of the archangels? the glory of the kingdom? the delight of the trees? the torch-bearing of your light? the undefiled radiance? the nakedness with which I am clothed? the remnants of indecency? the reproach of the angels; the unsubmissiveness of the wild beasts? the stubbornness of the cattle? the friendship of God? the alienation from the Spirit? the eternal blessedness? What lamentation shall I make? what weeping shall I mourn; what humility shall I embrace? what tragedy shall I begin? what groan shall I send up? what pain shall I cause to cease? the one now present? the one after these things? the one in the underworld, the one in the sweat of the face? the sprouting of thorns? the rebuke of the earth? I cannot bear the remnants of grief, I cannot bear the groaning, I cannot bear to sit opposite your luxury and see you. For I have become a stranger to your way of life, a stranger to your dwelling, an alien to eternal enjoyment, I have made myself a stranger to God by my own will. Henceforth I will be a stranger to your contemplation and sight. No longer shall I enjoy your luxury, no longer shall I be delighted by your blessedness, no longer shall I enjoy the sight of you, no longer shall I be illumined by your radiance, no longer shall I dwell in you. All things have become empty for me; all things have passed away like a shadow; all things have passed by like a dream; all things have vanished as nonexistent from my eyes. If you are able, you too beseech the creator, that I may not be separated from your company. Bend down your trees, and fall before the compassionate one, and with the sound of your leaves cry out in strength. You have become all-blessed by the command of the Master, and you have confidence as the house of our God. Raise the forms of your fruits as if they were eyes, and the fragrance of the plants as if it were an eloquent mouth, so that you may remain open to the one who loved you. Behold now my mouth has grown weary of crying out; behold also my tongue has ceased to speak; behold also my throat is bound in silence. As an ill-advised one I have been condemned, as a wretched one I have been stripped naked, as a lawless one I have been cast out, as an earthly one I was delivered to the earth, from which I came out; from where I was formed, I return, and I no longer behold the beauty of your fairness. Then turning to the woman, he used reproaches, and in bitterness of soul he said: Why did you reap my immortality, woman? why did you make the exalted one lowly? why did you render the ruler of all a beggar? why did you show the king of creation to be a slave? why did you blind my luminous eyes? why did you strip me of the robe, which you did not weave? why did you begrudge my honor? why did you dim my archetypal beauty? why, though called life, have you become death to me? why, having alienated me from the angels, have you made me dwell with demons? why, having deprived me of the kingdom, have you brought me to extreme poverty? why did you block my ears that continually heard the voice of God, like a deaf adder that will not hear the voice of the charmer? I cannot bear the rebuke, before the union I seek the dissolution; before the dwelling I meditate on the departure; before the embrace I am concerned for the separation; before being yoked together I beseech to depart from you. Go away from me, woman. When shall I work the earth? when shall I pull up thistles? when shall I reap ripe wheat? when, having made flour, shall I prepare bread? when, sitting carefree, shall I feast on this? when shall I sleep without pain? when shall I take off the leaves of the fig tree? when the

πετεινοῖς οἷς ἤθελον προσέταττον· πᾶσα ἡ κτίσις ὡς δεσπότῃ μοι προσέβλεπεν. Ἀπηλλο 56.534 τρίωμαι τούτων ὡς παραβάτης· ἐξωρίσθην τῆς τρυφῆς ὡς ἀνδράποδον· ἐδιώχθην τῆς χαρᾶς σου ὡς παράνομος· ἀπηλάθην τῆς κατοικίας σου ὡς δραπέτης. Τί κλαύσω πρῶτον, τί δεύτερον; τὴν στέρησιν τοῦ κάλλους σου; τὴν χαρὰν τὴν ἄληκτον; τὴν ἀμέριμνον ζωήν; τὴν ἀκήρατον δόξαν; τῶν ἀγγέλων τὴν ἀλλοτρίωσιν; τὴν τῶν ἀρχαγγέλων στέρησιν; τῆς βασιλείας τὸ κλέος; τῶν δένδρων τὴν τερπνότητα; τοῦ φωτός σου τὴν λαμπαδουχίαν; τὴν μαρμαρυγὴν τὴν ἀκήρατον; τὴν γύμνωσιν ἣν περίκειμαι; τῆς ἀσχημοσύνης τὰ λείψανα; τὸν ὀνειδισμὸν τῶν ἀγγέλων· τῶν θηρίων τὸ ἀνυπότακτον; τῶν κτηνῶν τὸ ἄκαμπτον; τοῦ Θεοῦ τὴν φιλίαν; τοῦ Πνεύματος τὴν ἀλλοτρίωσιν; τὸν μακαρισμὸν τὸν ἀΐδιον; Ποῖον κοπετὸν κόψομαι; ποῖον κλαυθμὸν θρηνήσω· ποίαν ταπείνωσιν ἀσπάσομαι; ποίαν τραγῳδίαν ἄρξομαι; ποῖον στεναγμὸν ἀναπέμψω; ποίαν ὀδύνην καταπαύσω; τὴν ἀρτίως παρεστῶσαν; τὴν μετὰ ταῦτα; τὴν ἐν τοῖς καταχθονίοις, τὴν ἐν ἱδρῶτι τοῦ προσώπου; τῶν ἀκανθῶν τὴν βλάστησιν; τῆς γῆς τὴν ἐπιτίμησιν; Οὐ φέρω τῆς λύπης τὰ λείψανα, οὐ φέρω τὸν στεναγμὸν, οὐ φέρω ἀπέναντι τῆς τρυφῆς σου καθήμενος βλέπειν σε. Ξένος γὰρ γέγονα τῆς σῆς διατριβῆς, ξένος τῆς σῆς κατοικίας, ἀλλότριος τῆς ἀϊδίου ἀπολαύσεως, ξένον ἐμαυτὸν κατέστησα τοῦ Θεοῦ οἰκείᾳ μου βουλῇ. Ξένος ἀπάρτι γενήσομαι τῆς σῆς θεωρίας καὶ ὁράσεως. Οὐκέτι σου τῆς τρυφῆς ἀπολαύσω, οὐκέτι τῆς μακαριότητός σου ἡδυνθῶ, οὐκέτι σου τῆς θέας ἀπολαύσω, οὐκέτι σου τῆς μαρμαρυγῆς ἐλλαμφθῶ, οὐκέτι ἐν σοὶ κατοικήσω. Πάντα κενά μοι γέγονε· πάντα παρῆλθον ὡς σκιά· πάντα διέβη ὡς ὄναρ· πάντα ἠφανίσθησαν ὡς ἀνύπαρκτα ἀπὸ τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν μου. Εἰ δύνασαι, κἂν σὺ παρακάλεσαι τὸν πλάστην, ὅπως μὴ χωρισθῶ τῆς συναυλίας σου. Κατάκαμψον τὰ δένδρα σου, καὶ πρόσπεσον τῷ εὐσπλάγχνῳ, καὶ τῷ ἤχῳ τῶν φύλλων σου ἀνάκραξον ἐν ἰσχΰι. Πανόλβιος γέγονας κελεύσματι τοῦ ∆εσπότου, καὶ παῤῥησίαν ἔχεις ὡς οἶκος τοῦ Θεοῦ ἡμῶν. Ἆρον ὥσπερ ὀφθαλμοὺς τῶν καρπῶν σου τὰ εἴδη, καὶ ὥσπερ στόμα εὔλαλον τὴν τῶν φυτῶν εὐωδίαν, ἵνα μείνῃς ἀνεῳγμένος τῷ σὲ ἀγαπήσαντι. Ἰδοὺ νῦν τὸ στόμα μου κράζειν ἐκοπίασε· ἰδοὺ καὶ ἡ γλῶσσά μου λαλεῖν ἀπεπαύσατο· ἰδοὺ καὶ ὁ λάρυγξ μου σιγῇ καταδέδεται. Ὡς παράβουλος κατακέκριμαι, ὡς ἄθλιος γεγύμνωμαι, ὡς ἄνομος ἐκβέβλημαι, ὡς γήϊνος τῇ γῇ παρεδόθην, ὅθεν ἐξῆλθον· ὅθεν ἐπλάσθην, ἀναλύω, καὶ οὐκέτι σου θεωρῶ τοῦ κάλλους τὴν ὡραιότητα. Εἶτα στραφεὶς πρὸς τὴν γυναῖκα, ὀνειδισμοῖς ἐκέχρητο, καὶ ἐν πικρίᾳ ψυχῆς ἔλεγε· Τί μου τὴν ἀθανασίαν ἐθέρισας, γύναι; τί τὸν ὑψηλὸν ἐποίησας ταπεινόν; τί τὸν παντάρχην κατέστησας προσαίτην; τί τὸν βασιλέα τῆς κτίσεως δοῦλον ἀνέδειξας; τί μου τοὺς φωτεινοὺς ἐτύφλωσας ὀφθαλμούς; τί με τὴν στολὴν ἐξέδυσας, ἣν οὐκ ἐξύφανας; τί τὴν τιμήν μου ἐφθόνησας; τί τὸ ἀρχέτυπόν μου κάλλος ἠμαύρωσας; τί ζωὴ προσαγορευθεῖσα, θάνατός μοι γέγονας; τί με τῶν ἀγγέλων ἀλλοτριώσασα, τοῖς δαίμοσι συγκατεσκήνωσας; τί με τῆς βασιλείας στερήσασα εἰς ἄκραν πτωχείαν κατήγαγες; τί τὰ ὦτά μου τῆς φωνῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ διηνεκῶς ἀκούοντα ἀπέφραξας, ὡς ἀσπὶς βύουσα ἥτις οὐκ εἰσακούσεται φωνῆς ἐπᾴδοντος; Οὐ φέρω τὴν ἐπιτίμησιν, πρὸ τῆς συναφείας τὴν λύσιν ἐπιζητῶ· πρὸ τῆς κατασκηνώσεως τὴν ἀναχώρησιν μελετῶ· πρὸ τῆς συμπλοκῆς τὸν χωρισμὸν μεριμνῶ· πρὸ τοῦ συζευχθῆναι ἀποστῆναι ἀπὸ σοῦ δυσωπῶ. Ἄπιθι ἀπ' ἐμοῦ, γύναι. Πότε τὴν γῆν ἐργάσομαι; πότε τριβόλους ἀνασπάσω; πότε σῖτον ὥριμον θερίσω; πότε ποιήσας ἄλευρον, ἄρτον κατασκευάσω; πότε καθίσας ἀμέριμνος τοῦτον ἑστιάσομαι; πότε ἀνωδύνως ὑπνώσω; πότε τὰ φύλλα ἐκδύσομαι τῆς συκῆς; πότε τὴν