An accusatory word on the occasion of a lunar eclipse

In the sermon “A Word of Conviction on the Occasion of the Eclipse of the Moon,” St. Ambrose of Milan laments the fact that, trying to convert his flock to a virtuous life, he does not receive the desired result from this: “The shepherd of the flock of Christ then tastes the milk of the flock when he rejoices in the purity of his good deeds.” The reason for delivering the sermon was the cry that some Christians raised during the eclipse, trying to “help the exhausted moon, and with their cries they thought to make up for its lack.” The Christian himself changes like the moon when, through stupidity and madness, he becomes a blasphemer: “For he is a blasphemer before the Creator who attribute to Him the weakness of the creature.” The saint calls for constancy in faith and to remain with the Savior. The year the sermon was preached is unknown. You yourself see, brethren, that I, humble, do not cease to work with you with all diligence and zeal in order to convert you to a virtuous life. But the more I struggle, the more you confuse me. For when I see that you, with so many of my admonitions, are not making any progress; then my work serves me not to joy, but to shame. The blessed Apostle says: “Who plants grapes and does not eat of its fruit? or who feeds the flock and does not eat the milk of the flock” (1 Cor. 9:7)? Here I am, shepherding the flock of Christ, and I cannot, with all my effort, take fruit from the flock; I tend the flock of the Lord, and do not receive from it any food of godliness. Because it (the flock) does not make me happy with the sweetness of its faith; but what comes from him is rough and bitter. The shepherd of Christ's flock then eats the milk of the flock when he is delighted with the purity of his good deeds. But who will not be offended by you, brethren (however, I am not talking about everyone; for among you there are those whom you should imitate in piety), who, I say, will not be offended when you so forget about your salvation that you sin even with the testimony of heaven? For several days before this, when I convicted you of your love of money, on that very day in the evening there arose such a cry among the people that their outrage reached the sky. When I asked what the noise meant? - They answered me that you wanted to help the exhausted moon with your cry, and with your cries you thought to make up for her lack. I laughed and was surprised at the vanity that you, pious Christians, seemed to help God. You screamed as if so that He, in your silence, would not lose the luminary, as if He were weak and weak, and without the help of your cries could not preserve the luminaries He created. And so, you are doing well to console God so that He, with your help, can rule heaven. But if you want to do this more satisfactorily, you must stay awake every night. For how many times during your sleep did the moon suffer, and yet not fall from the sky? Doesn't she suffer some damage every evening? Isn't it eclipsed by the day itself? But for you it is usually eclipsed in the evening, when your stomach expands from a rich dinner, and your head moves from drinking too much. And so the moon suffers for you when you suffer from wine. Then, I say, the circle of the moon darkens for you, when your eyes are darkened from drinking. How can you, intoxicated, see what is happening in the sky with the moon, you who do not see what is happening on earth around you? It is true what Scripture says: “a fool is like the moon that changes” (Sir. 27:11). Because you change, like the moon, when you, having been a Christian, out of stupidity and madness, begin to be a blasphemer. For he is a blasphemer before the Creator who attributes to Him the weakness of the creature. You change like the moon when, once shining with piety, you now darken yourself with treachery. You change, like the moon, when your head becomes so impoverished in wisdom, like the moon in light, and your mind is covered with deep darkness. Oh, if you, crazy one, would change like the moon! For it soon comes again to its fullness; and you are not slowly turning to wisdom. She soon returns the light that she lost; and you will not slowly accept the faith that you left. And so your change is more deplorable than the lunar one. The moon lacks light, and you lack salvation. Therefore, how well it is said about the wise: “and he will remain with the sun” (Psalm 71:5)! For the wise man abides with the sun when, maintaining constancy in faith, he abides with the Savior. But someone will say: does the moon really not suffer? She suffers, this we do not reject: but she suffers with other creatures, as the Apostle says: “as all creation... groans and grieves even to this day” (Rom. 8:22); and above: “for the creation itself will be freed from the work of corruption” (Rom. 8:21). “He will be freed, he said, from work”: and so you see, the moon does not practice songs, but suffers from obedience; it does not suffer from dangers, but from obedience; it suffers not in order to perish, but in order to serve. “For the creation obeys vanity unwillingly” (Rom. 8:20). Consequently, the moon changes its position not by will, but you change yours darkness voluntarily. She, by her very condition, suffers damage, and you suffer damage of your own free will. And so I do not want you to be like the moon when it is eclipsed; but be like her, complete and perfect, as it is written about the righteous: “As the moon is perfect forever, and a faithful witness in heaven” (Psalm 89:38). You might be interested in: