Jettisoning cargo for the soul's safe voyage

Those sailors, you see, if they happen to be carrying even some necessary cargo on board and a boiling swell rises against them from the open sea and threatens to sink the ship, weighed down as it is by its load, throw off most of the weight as fast as they can. They pour their merchandise into the sea without mercy, so as to raise the ship above the waves and, if possible, bring only their souls and bodies safely out of danger. How much more, then, should we plan and do these very things! For whatever those men throw overboard they lose at once, and from then on the force of poverty closes in on them. But the more of our wicked cargo we pour out, the more and better wealth we will heap up for our souls. Fornication and all such things, once thrown off, are destroyed and pass into nothingness, dissolved by tears. But holiness and righteousness pass over into the place of those very things—light possessions that no waves can cover. Money, however, when thrown out well, is not lost to those who throw it out and cast it away. Rather, as if transferred into other, safer ships—the stomachs of the poor—it is preserved and arrives first at the harbor, and it is kept for those who throw it out as an ornament, not a danger. Let us then, beloved, plan something philanthropic for ourselves, and if we truly want to make the burden of our abundance our own gain, let us distribute it among many who will carry it joyfully and lock it away in the bosom of the Master, in treasuries that cannot be plundered—where moth does not destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal (Matthew 6:20). Let us give our wealth permission to overflow toward those in need. Let us not run past the Lazaruses who even now lie before our eyes, nor begrudge them the crumbs from our table that would satisfy them. Let us not imitate that savage rich man and go over with him into the same flame of hell. For then we will beg Abraham at length, and beg at length each of those who lived well, but our shouting will gain us nothing. “A brother cannot redeem; can a man redeem?” (Psalm 48:8 (49:7)). Each of those people will cry out to us and say: “Do not seek the mercy you yourself ignored when others needed it. Do not expect to receive such great things, you who spared the lesser ones. Enjoy what you gathered in life. Weep now, since you did not pity your brother when you saw him weeping then.” These things they will say to us, and justly. But I am afraid they may hurl even harsher words at us, because, as you know, we surpass that rich man in wickedness. For not sparing our wealth at all, we run past our brothers thrown on the ground, and while keeping our abundance for our children or other relatives, we shut our ears to those in need. Instead, we transfer our spending to worse things and make our love of honor a whetstone of wickedness for those who practice it. For how many women or how many men of certain people stand around the table! Some charm the host with shameful words, others kindle the fire of self-indulgence with indecent glances and gestures, others want to produce laughter for the one who invited them by mocking one another, and still others deceive him with false praises.