Ambrose of Milan

Is that, then, Samson who broke ropes twisted with thongs, and new cords like weak threads? Is that Samson who did not feel the bonds of his hair fastened to the beam, so long as he had the grace of the Spirit? He, I say, after the Spirit of God departed from him, was greatly changed from that Samson Who returned clothed in the spoils of the aliens, but fallen from his greatness on the knees of a woman, caressed and deceived, is shorn of his hair.

Was, then, the hair of his head of such importance that, so long as it remained, his strength should endure unconquered, but when his head was shorn the man should suddenly lose all his strength? It is not so, nor may we think that the hair of his head has such power. There is the hair of religion and faith; the hair of the Nazarite perfect in the Law, consecrated in sparingness and abstinence, with which she (a type of the Church), who poured ointment on the feet of the Lord, wiped the feet of the heavenly Word, for then she knew Christ also after the flesh. That hair it is of which it is said: "Thy hair is as flocks of goats," growing on that head of which it is said: "The head of the man is Christ," and in another place: "His head is as fine gold, and his locks like black pine-trees."

And so, also, in the Gospel our Lord, pointing out that some hairs are seen and known, says: "But even the hairs of your head are all numbered," implying, indeed, acts of spiritual virtues, for God does not take care for our hair. Though, indeed, it is not absurd to believe that literally, seeing that according to His divine Majesty nothing can be hidden from Him.

But what does it profit me, if God Himself knows all my hairs? That rather abounds and profits me, if the watchful witness of good works reward me with the gift of eternal life. And, in fine, Samson himself, declaring that these hairs are not mystical, says: "If I be shorn my strength will depart from me."

But in process of time his hair began to grow again; and on the occasion of a great feast Samson is brought out of prison to the assembly of the Philistines, and set in sight of the people. There were nearly three thousand in number, men and women; and they insulted him with bitter reproaches, and carried him about in mockery, a trial harder to be borne than the very reality of captivity by a man conscious of innate power. For to live and die is natural, to be a laughing stock is counted a disgrace. Desirous therefore either of consoling himself by avenging so great an indignity, or of forestalling it for the future by death, he pretended that from the weakness of his limbs and the weight of his fetters he could not support himself, and desired the boy who guided his steps to bring him to the nearest pillars by which the whole house was supported. Being brought near, he grasped with both hands the props of the building, and while the Philistines were intent on the sacrificial feast which they were offering to Dagon their god, by whose help they deemed their adversary had been delivered into their power, reckoning a woman's perfidy as a gift from above, he called unto the Lord, and said, "O Lord God, remember me I pray Thee this once, that I may be avenged of the heathen for my two eyes, and that they give not glory to their gods as if by their help they had gotten me into their power. Let me die with the Philistines, that they may find my weakness to have been no less fatal to them than my strength."

Then he shook the columns with great force, and broke them in pieces, whereon followed the downfall of the upper roof, crushing Samson himself and casting down all those who were looking on from above. Thus were a great number of men and women slain together, and by an end not unworthy or disgraceful, but excelling all his former victories, the dying Samson obtained a triumph. For although to that point and thenceforward he was invincible, and incomparable during life among men versed in war, yet in death he conquered himself, and shewed an unconquerable soul, so as to despise and count for nothing that end of life which all men fear.

Thus it was through his valour that the last day of his life was also the sum of his victories, and that he met not a captive but a triumphant end. But to have been entrapped by a woman is to be ascribed to nature rather than to the man, because it was by the condition of his humanity more than through his own fault that he fell; for this is wont to be overcome, and yield to the allurements of wickedness. Wherefore, since Scripture bears witness that he slew more in his death than while in the light of life, it would seem that his captivity happened rather for the destruction of his adversaries than for his own fall and humiliation. For he whose burial was more efficacious than his living strength cannot be said to have found himself inferior. Lastly, he was overwhelmed and buried not by the weapons but by the bodies of his enemies, and thus, covered by his own triumph, he left a glorious memorial to posterity. For he judged his countrymen, whom he found enslaved, twenty years, and buried in his native soil, left them inheritors of liberty.

By this example then it is plain that alliances with strangers should be avoided, lest through love for our wife the snares of treachery should be successful.

How full of pitiful traits is this story! A man, it says, a Levite, had taken to himself a wife, who I suppose was called a concubine from the word concubitus. She some time afterwards, as is likely to happen, offended at certain things, returned to her father and was with him four months. Then her husband arose and went to the house of his father-in-law to reconcile himself with his wife, to win her back and take her home again. The woman ran to meet him and brought her husband into her father’s house.The maiden’s father rejoiced and went to meet him, and the man stayed with him three days, and they ate and rested. On the next day the Levite arose at daybreak but was detained by his father-in-law, that he might not so quickly lose the pleasure of his company. Again on the next and the third day the maiden’s father did not allow his son-in-law to start [his journey], until their joy and mutual regard was complete. But on the seventh day, when it was already drawing to a close, after a pleasant meal, having urged the approach of the coming night, so as to make him think he ought to sleep among friends rather than strangers, he was unable to keep him, and so let him go together with his daughter.

A Levite, more courageous than wealthy, lived in the region of Mount Ephrem, for his tribe was allotted a landed possession far removed in place of the right of inheritance. He took a wife from the tribe of Bethlehem of Judah. While they felt the first attraction of their love deeply and equally, he continued to burn with unbounded desire for his wife. Yet her ways were different. His passion for her intensified until he inwardly seethed with desire. Yet, because there was a difference in their ages, and because he felt—either because she seemed to love him less or due to the violence of his pain—that she didn’t consider him her equal, he used to criticize her. Frequently quarreling followed, and the offended wife gave back the keys of the house and went home.After the fourth month slipped by her husband, who was overwhelmed with love and had nothing else to hope for, went to her, trusting that the young girl’s heart would be softened on the advice of her parents. His father-in-law met him at the door and brought him into the house. He reconciled his daughter and, in order that he might send them away more joyous, kept them three days while he prepared a sort of nuptial banquet. Although the man wanted to depart, he kept him a fourth day, offering him excuses of civility, devising delays. In his desire to add a fifth day as well, he found new reasons for delaying them, while the husband, unwilling to thwart the father’s affection of its desire to keep his daughter, though he was at last promised an opportunity for setting forth, postponed it to midday so that they would start out well fortified with food. Even after dinner, the father wished to find some delay, saying that evening was now approaching. At last he acquiesced, though reluctantly, to the entreaties of his son-in-law.

He set out on his journey in happy spirits because he had recovered his dearly beloved wife. One servant was with him, and as day was already declining they sped on their way with swift steps. The woman rode on an ass; her husband felt no weariness, taking joy in his desire and lightening his journey with talk at times with the woman, at times with the slave. When at length they neared Jerusalem, about thirty stades away, a place inhabited then by Jebusites, the servant boy suggested that they turn into the city, especially since night makes even safe places suspect and one must guard against the uncertainties of darkness, and particularly since the inhabitants of this locality were not of the children of Israel. They should beware lest treachery be done with hostile design, for the night’s darkness is opportune enough for any tricksters to perpetrate evil. But his master did not care for the servant’s idea of seeking lodging among foreigners, since Gaba [Gibeah] and Rama, cities of Benjamin, were not far distant. His strong will overrode the servant’s suggestion, as though advice takes its value from one’s condition [of birth] rather than that through advice a lowly condition may be raised. The sun was now setting and he agreed reluctantly to go into the city [Gibeah], for he was overtaken by evening. The Gabanites lived there, unfriendly, harsh, unbearable people, who could stand anything but to receive people hospitably. Indeed, it would have been much more suitable had the Levite not sought hospitality in Gaba [Gibeah]. That his treatment be utterly offensive, he found on entering the city that there was no inn. And when he sat on the road imploring the mercy of these strangers, an old man from the fields happened to stumble on him, for evening had compelled him to leave his work in the fields at night. Seeing him, he asked where he was from and where he was going. He answered, “I came from Bethlehem of Judah, I am going to Mount Ephrem, and my wife is here with me. But I have learned that there is no one here to give hospitality and provide us a chance to rest.” He needed no food or drink for himself nor food for his flock, but they had been refused the hospitality of shelter. They had everything; only a bare lodging was needed. To this the old man kindly and calmly said, “Peace to you! Come in as my guest and fellow citizen, for I am also from the region of Mount Ephrem, and here is a lodging place; someone who lived here a long time laid its foundations.” Having received them into his home, he attentively and carefully provided for his guests and entertained them.

The old man kept urging them to be glad and kept inviting them to drink more wine so that they would forget their cares, when all of a sudden they were surrounded by young men of Gaba [Gibeah], given to lust, all lacking esteem for moderation. The woman’s beauty had bewitched them and thrown them into utter folly. They were captivated by her beauty and, because of the old man’s age and lack of help, with high hope of getting her, they demanded the woman and kept pounding at the door.The old man, going out, begged them not to defile his guest’s stay with a base crime, contemplating violation of a privilege reverenced even by savage nations of barbarous peoples; they could not insultingly mistreat a fellow tribesman of his, legitimately born, a married man, without causing wrath in their heavenly judge. When he saw that he was making little headway, he added that he had a maiden daughter and he offered her to them, with great sorrow, since he was her parent, but with less damage to the favor he owed his guest. He considered a public crime more tolerable than private disgrace. Driven by a wave of fury and inflamed by the incentive of lust, their desire for the young woman’s beauty increased the more she was denied them. Deprived of all righteousness, they mocked his fair words, considering the old man’s daughter an object of contempt in that she was offered with less feeling of ill will toward the crime.
Then, when pious entreaties availed nothing and the aged hands were hopelessly extended in vain, the woman was seized and all that night was subjected to violence. When day brought an end to the outrage, she went back to the door of their lodging, where she would not ask to see her husband, whom she thought she must now forego, ashamed at her pitiable condition. Yet, to show her love for her husband, she who had lost her chastity lay down at the door of the lodging, and there in pitiable circumstance came an end to her disgrace. The Levite, coming out, found her lying there and thought that she dared not lift her head for shame. He began comforting her, since she had succumbed to such injury not willingly but unwillingly. He bade her rise and go home with him. Then, as no answer came, he called her loudly as though to rouse her from sleep.

A proud retort was made, and plans for peace were changed to war. In the first and second encounters, when many were harmed by a few, the Israelites considered yielding, since the battles were so unfavorable. There were four hundred thousand men warring against twenty-five thousand of the tribe of Benjamin, and they strove with seven hundred Gabanites [Gibeonites] experienced in war. When two battles were unfavorable, Israel with eager spirit did not lose hope of victory nor of vengeance for the hope they had fostered.Superior in cause and number they yet fell back defeated in the battle’s outcome, and, feeling that God was offended, they tried with fasting and much weeping to gain a reconciliation of heaven’s favor. Begging the Lord’s peace, they returned more boldly to war, and they to whom prayer had given courage and who had entertained much hope were now able to do what they planned. On a pretext of withdrawing their front lines, setting ambushes at night in the rear of the city, where a segment of the enemy was located, they followed as some retired and thus were provided with an opportunity for invading the unprotected city. Fires were quickly set and flared up while raging flames and waves of heat revealed the sight of the taken city. Their spirits broken, they faced the enemy. The men of Benjamin who thought they were shut in and surrounded, even before they were invaded from the rear, began scattering and fleeing to the desert, while Israel pressed after with doubled force and pursued them as they wandered in rout.
About twenty-five thousand were slain, therefore, that is, almost all the men of Benjamin except six hundred who seized a fortification on a rough cliff and by virtue of its situation and with the help of nature and partly through fear were a terror to their victors. Success advises caution; in adversity, revenge is esteemed rather than victory. Not even a minority of the women stayed clear of that struggle, but all the women of the tribe of Benjamin, along with boys and girls of every age, were wiped out by sword or fire, and an oath was taken that no one would give his daughter to a man of that tribe in marriage, so that all chance of repairing the name was abolished.

After you found out what transpired in our court, you kept to yourself; therefore, I now summon, as it were, part of my own soul, for I have a friendly yet sorrowful complaint against you for the outrage done to chastity. Was it necessary for an unsurpassed, unheard-of case of virginity to be subjected to a sentence? Could it not have been dismissed? In other words, unless with injury to herself she had been handed over from honored modesty to an indecent surrender of her body, though she offered strong proof regarding herself, she would be exposed to ridicule and marked out as a wanton individual! You have tendered this privilege to virginity, honor of a sort, to which they are pleased to be summoned and invited who plan to recover this boon! Thus, they lose the liberty of a common reputation, nor do they protect themselves by the statutes of sacred or public law; they may not ask their accuser or oppose an informer but may only put on shamelessness and expose themselves to harm.Our ancestors did not think chastity so to be despised; rather, they showed it such reverence that they would wage war on violators of modesty. In fact, so great was their desire for revenge that all the tribe of Benjamin would have been destroyed unless the six hundred who remained out of the war had been protected by a natural hill. This is the expression found in the account of the sacred lesson whose meaning it is profitable to consider.

Repentance came by John, grace by Christ. He, as the Lord, gives the one; the other is proclaimed, as it were, by the servant. The church, then, keeps both that it may attain to grace and not cast away repentance, for grace is the gift of One who confers it; repentance is the remedy of the sinner.Jeremiah knew that penitence was a great remedy, which he in his Lamentations took up for Jerusalem and brings forward Jerusalem itself as repenting when he says, “She wept sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks, nor is there one to comfort her of all who love her. The ways of Zion do mourn.” And he says further, “For these things I weep, my eyes have grown dim with weeping, because he who used to comfort me is gone far from me.” We notice that he thought this the bitterest addition to his woes, that he who used to comfort the mourner was gone far from him. How, then, can you take away the very comfort by refusing to repentance the hope of forgiveness?
But let those who repent learn how they ought to carry it out, with what zeal, with what affection, with what intention of mind, with what shaking of the inmost bowels, with what conversion of heart: “Behold,” he says, “O Lord, that I am in distress; my bowels are troubled by my weeping; my heart is turned within me.”
Here you recognize the intention of the soul, the faithfulness of the mind, the disposition of the body: “The elders of the daughters of Zion sat,” he says, “on the ground, they put dust on their heads, they girded themselves with haircloth, the princes hung their heads to the ground, the virgins of Jerusalem fainted with weeping, my eyes grew dim, my bowels were troubled, my glory was poured on the earth.”
So, too, did the people of Nineveh mourn and escaped the destruction of their city. Such is the remedial power of repentance, that God seems because of it to change his intention. To escape is, then, in your own power; the Lord wants to be asked, he wants people to hope in him, he wants supplication to be made to him. You are a human being, and you want to be asked to forgive, and you think that God will pardon you without asking him?
The Lord wept over Jerusalem, that, inasmuch as it would not weep itself, it might obtain forgiveness through the tears of the Lord. He wills that we should weep in order that we may escape, as you find it in the Gospel: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves.”

Is it not evident that the Lord Jesus is angry with us when we sin in order that he may convert us through fear of his indignation? His indignation, then, is not the carrying out of vengeance but rather the working out of forgiveness, for these are his words: “If you shall turn and lament, you shall be saved.” He waits for our lamentations here, that is, in time, that he may spare us those that shall be eternal. He waits for our tears that he may pour forth his goodness. So in the Gospel, having pity on the tears of the widow, he raised her son. He waits for our conversion that he may himself restore us to grace, which would have continued with us had no fall overtaken us. But he is angry because we have by our sins incurred guilt in order that we may be humbled; we are humbled in order that we may be found worthy rather of pity than of punishment.Jeremiah, too, may certainly teach us this when he says, “For the Lord will not cast off forever; for after he has humbled, he will have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies, he who has not humbled from his whole heart or cast off the children of humankind.” This passage we certainly find in the Lamentations of Jeremiah, and from it, and from what follows, we note that the Lord humbles all the prisoners of the earth under his feet, in order that we may escape his judgment. But the one who does not bring down the sinner even to the earth with his whole heart is also the one who raises the poor even from the dust and the needy from the dunghill. For he does not wholeheartedly bring down those he intends to forgive.
But if he does not wholeheartedly bring down every sinner, how much less does he wholeheartedly bring down someone who has not sinned with his whole heart! For as he said of the Jews, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me,” so perhaps he may say of some of the fallen, “They denied me with their lips, but in their heart they are with me. It was pain that overcame them, not unfaithfulness that turned them aside.” But some without cause refuse pardon to those whose faith the persecutor himself confessed up to the point of striving to overcome it by torture. They denied the Lord once but confess him daily; they denied him in word but confess him with groans, with cries and with tears; they confess him with willing words, not under compulsion. They yielded, indeed, for a moment to the temptation of the devil, but even the devil afterwards left those whom he was unable to claim as his own. He yielded to their weeping, he yielded to their repentance, and after making them his own lost those whom he attached when they belonged to Another.