Is 58:7. Frange esurienti panem tuum (“Break your bread for the hungry”). This is the second condition which God requires in fasting, if it is to please Him: namely, that it be seasoned with piety and almsgiving, as St. Gregory says (Homily 16 on the Gospels), and that what is taken away from the stomach be given to the poor—so that bread be given to the hungry, lodging to the stranger, and clothing to the naked. Therefore, says St. Gregory, what you take away from yourself, give generously to another, so that from that by which your own flesh is afflicted, the flesh of your needy neighbor may be restored. For a man fasts only for himself if what he withdraws from himself for a time he does not give to the poor, but keeps in reserve to offer again later to his own belly.
St. Augustine strongly urges this in Sermon 62 De Tempore, and from the word frange (“break”) proves that no one, even if poor, can excuse himself from almsgiving. “He did not say,” he remarks, “that one must give a whole loaf, since perhaps the poor man does not have another; but he said break. That is to say: even if your poverty is so great that you have only one loaf, still break from it and give to the poor.”
He says elsewhere: Let the works of mercy be your food, and let fasts be seasoned with them; let the needy be refreshed by you, and your soul be fattened with the marrow of holiness. Clothe the naked, and your sins are covered. Receive the stranger gladly into your lodging, so that God too may receive you into the kingdom of heaven. See also the examples recounted in Ezekiel 18:7.
“And your flesh you shall not despise.” That is, as the Septuagint translates: and those of your own household you shall not despise. Note here a Hebraism: for a near one is called flesh, both properly—one who is a kinsman by blood or marriage—and more broadly, any human being, especially one of the same people and faith, for example an Israelite. For to all such, if they are in need, almsgiving is commanded. Indeed, in Adam all of us are neighbors and kin.
Sánchez understands the expression elliptically, as if to say: just as you do not despise your own flesh, so also do not despise them—namely, the hungry, the homeless, and the naked. A third interpretation is added by Forerius, which I shall indicate shortly. But the first is by far the most genuine. For he urges them to almsgiving by saying that it is given to one’s own flesh—that is, to relatives and compatriots—so that care may be taken not only of their bodies but also of their souls, lest through poverty they be compelled to subject themselves to unbelievers or impious persons, by whom they might be drawn into unbelief and impiety.
Thus we read in the Life of Blessed Sylvester, a Pontiff outstanding in prudence as well as holiness, that he zealously relieved the needs of the poor, especially of virgins, widows, and orphans. “Lest,” he said, “they be forced to seek help from outsiders, who while they relieve bodies, slaughter souls.”
Is 58:8. Tunc erumpet quasi mane (“Then shall your light break forth like the morning”).
(Hebrew: רַסַּחַר (rassachar), that is, like the dawn.) Your light.
Here God assigns the rewards of mercy and almsgiving. The first is light, which Forerius and Sánchez rightly understand as prosperity and happiness. For light is the symbol of these things, just as night and darkness signify adversity and calamity. As if to say: then you will begin to emerge from the midst of calamities and darkness—such as the Babylonian captivity—into the light of freedom, joy, and happiness. For just as mercilessness and inhumanity take away the day from the earth, stir up storms, and throw the whole machinery of the world into confusion, and have brought upon you, O Jews, the darkness of captivity and prison, so on the contrary mercy brings day, light, and peace to the world, and will restore to you your return from exile, gladness, and every good thing.
Sánchez adds that almsgiving at the hour of death—which is dark, sad, and anxious—brings hope of salvation and is like the morning star (Apocalypse 2:28), that is, the lucifer (light-bearer), which precedes and announces the coming of the sun. So almsgiving rouses the dying person and shows him the light of the glory that is at hand, offering it as something already tasted beforehand.
Note: for erumpet (“shall break forth”), the Hebrew has יִבָּקַע (yibbāqaʿ), that is, it shall be split or cleft, as when the sun at dawn splits the clouds with its rays and bursts forth into light, as though the light itself were cleft and scattered. St. John Chrysostom presses this point (Homily 44 on Matthew 16) and teaches from it that mercy is matched by mercy from God. “He did not say,” Chrysostom remarks, “Your light shall appear, but shall be split, to express the speed and abundance of the Giver, so that we may understand how exceedingly eager He is for our salvation, and how, full of gifts, He seems almost to burst forth in His haste to give, since nothing can restrain the immeasurable desire of God.” By all this he shows the infinite abundance of good things prepared for us, and that the morning light signifies sudden and unlooked-for blessings.
“And your health shall spring forth speedily.” For health, Forerius translates healing, as if to say: In Babylon you are captives, O Israel, and there through want, squalor, sorrow, and other hardships you grow sick and waste away. Take this most excellent remedy and medicine: mercy. It will heal these and all your pains and infirmities. For your mercy will draw down upon you the mercy of God, which will heal you. Hence the Septuagint, instead of health, translates φάρμακα (pharmaka), that is, medicines or plasters. St. Jerome translates the Hebrew אֲרוּכָה (ʾărûkāh) here and elsewhere as scar or healing of a wound; Vatablus as lengthening or prolongation. Almsgiving, therefore, is a most effective plaster, which brings healing and restoration to all wounds and diseases, both of body and of soul, and grants to the merciful a kind of longevity—that is, a prolonging of life. Thus it is said of wisdom (Wisdom 6:26): The multitude of the wise is the health of the world. And of sobriety (Ecclesiasticus 31:37): Sober drinking is health to soul and body.
Secondly, light and health can also be understood spiritually: as if to say, then light shall break forth—that is, then grace will be poured into you from heaven, by which you will be justified and enlightened in the intellect, so that you may know what is good and what is evil, and which path leads to salvation; and health will arise in the will, for you will be healed of disordered affections and desires. In a similar metaphor it is said of the fear of God (Proverbs 3:8) that it will be health to your navel and refreshment to your bones. That is, if you fear God, your whole body will be sound. For bodily health depends especially on the health of the more delicate, vital parts—such as the heart, liver, and spleen, which lie near the navel—and also on the navel itself, which connects the upper and lower members and through which the fetus in the womb draws nourishment from the mother; and likewise on the firmer parts, namely the bones, which are like the foundations and columns of our house and microcosm. The health of the bones is sustained and irrigated by the richness of the marrow; when that fails, the bones dry up, and corruption of the human person follows. This is a metaphor signifying that the whole soul, all its parts—noble and ignoble, weak and strong, for example the appetite, which is like the navel, and reason, which is like the bones—will be made sound by the fear of God. Thus explain Jansenius and Cajetan.
Anagogically, St. Chrysostom says (Homily 4 on the Epistle to the Philippians): “This oil,” he says, “that is, almsgiving, will bestow upon you great light and glory in the future, and consequently eternal health and immortality.”
Finally, Chrysostom (Homily 55 on Matthew 16), St. Augustine (Sermon 172 De Tempore), St. Cyprian (Sermon On Almsgiving), and Tertullian (On the Resurrection of the Flesh, ch. 27) read not sanitas (“health”) or medicaments, but vestimenta (“garments”), by which they understand the body. For bodies are, as it were, the garments of the soul. As if to say: the bodies worn down and exhausted here by fasting, God will refashion and renew in the resurrection, just as when an old garment is worn out, a new one is substituted and put on. Hear Tertullian: “Desiring to receive not silk clothing nor a cloak, but flesh, He proclaimed the origin of the resurrection of the flesh from the occasion of death.” This sense aptly corresponds to what precedes: When you see the naked, clothe him, and do not despise your own flesh. In this sense: if you clothe the naked, God also will clothe your naked flesh in the resurrection with the robe of glory. However, from the Hebrew and the Latin it is clear that in the Septuagint one should read ἴατρα (iatra, “healings”), not ἱμάτια (himatia, “garments”), although the Hebrew ʾărûkāh, which properly signifies length or healing, could metaphorically be taken for a long garment.
“And your righteousness shall go before your face.” Righteousness, that is, mercy. For thus righteousness is understood in Daniel 4:24 (Hebrew), Psalm 111:9, Acts 10:35, and elsewhere. As if to say: if you are in the darkness of sin, or captivity, or calamity—especially at the hour of death—almsgiving, like a torch, will go before you, lead you out, and at death will stand before Christ the Judge and conduct you to heaven, removing all obstacles and making all things smooth. This is what Tobias says (Tobit 4:11): Almsgiving delivers from every sin and from death, and will not allow the soul to go into darkness. Hence it follows:
“And the glory of the Lord shall gather you.” a glorious deliverance from danger or captivity, for example from the Babylonian exile. Again, the Lord Himself, in the splendor of His heavenly glory, will gather you, protect you, receive you, and—as the Septuagint has it—will surround you and make you blessed, saying: Enter into the joy of your Lord. Thus explain Vatablus, Sánchez, and others. The passage alludes to Moses: when the rebellious Jews wished to stone him, he fled to the tabernacle, and there the glory of the Lord appeared in a cloud and protected him. Hear St. John Chrysostom (Homily 32 on the Epistle to the Hebrews): “Almsgiving dissolves the chains of sins, puts darkness to flight, extinguishes fire, kills the worm, and drives away the gnashing of teeth. With great confidence, by means of it the gates of heaven are opened; and as though a queen were entering, no gatekeeper, no guard standing at the doors dares to say, ‘Who are you?’ or ‘From where do you come?’ but all receive her directly. So it is also with mercy; for she is a queen indeed, truly a queen, making human beings like God.” Just as, therefore, the merciless and cruel are exposed to every injury, so that at every step they must fear ruin—because their iniquity goes before them, and the hatred with which God pursues them—so, on the contrary, the merciful fear no injury or violence; for their almsgiving goes before them, together with the grace of God. See what I have said about almsgiving in Deuteronomy 14 and 15.
Secondly, Forerius explains “your righteousness shall go before you” in this way: in all the things that befall you, since they will turn out prosperously, it will be evident that you are just. For there was widespread opinion that adversity befell only the wicked, and prosperity only the just. Yet the former sense is more striking, as well as more genuine.
Is 58:9. Then you shall call, and the Lord will hear. Not merely in words, but in deed, showing Himself gracious and beneficent to you; whereas before, on account of your lack of mercy, He was unwilling even to look upon you, as you complained in verse 3. From this passage St. Cyprian, in his treatise On the Lord’s Prayer, teaches that God does not hear prayers unless they are joined with pious works: “The Lord,” he says, “promises that He will be present, and declares that He will hear and protect those who, loosening the knots of injustice from their hearts and practicing almsgiving toward the household of God according to His commands, while they listen to what God commands to be done, themselves deserve also to be heard by God.” And a little earlier: “Let those who pray not come to God with prayers that are fruitless and bare; a sterile prayer is an ineffective petition. For since every tree that does not bear fruit is cut down and cast into the fire, surely a word that has no fruit cannot obtain God’s favor, since it is not fruitful in action.” Therefore divine Scripture instructs us, saying (Tobit 12): Prayer is good with fasting and almsgiving. For He who on the day of judgment will repay a reward for works and almsgiving, today also is a kindly hearer of one who comes to prayer together with action. He then proves this by the example of Cornelius the centurion, to whom the angel said (Acts 10): Cornelius, your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God. So too Raphael bore witness to Tobias, praying and always working, saying: When you and Sarah were praying, I offered the memory of your prayers before the glory of God. And when you were burying the dead simply, and did not hesitate to rise up and leave your meal … God sent me to heal you and Sarah your daughter-in-law.
“If you remove from your midst the chain.” This chain is the burden and the oppressive bundles—namely usury and unjust contracts; the servitudes and burdens of the rich by which they bind and oppress the poor—as spoken of in verse 6. For in all these places in the Hebrew the same word appears, מוֹטָה (mōṭāh). Thus St. Cyril, Vatablus, Forerius, and others. See Jeremiah chapters 27 and 28.
Mystically, St. Jerome understands the chain to mean sins. For these are like iron fetters, which bind the soul and, once bound, hand it over and enslave it to demons.
“And if you cease to extend the finger.” Pagninus adds “toward another’s property”, that is, if you cease to steal and to seize what belongs to others. So explain Cyril and Procopius.
Secondly, Vatablus, Forerius, and St. Thomas interpret it thus: if you cease to threaten your neighbor with an outstretched finger and to afflict him with insults; if you cease from contention and quarrels. St. Thomas and Forerius add that to extend the finger is a gesture as though wishing to pluck out the eyes, which is characteristic of an arrogant, angry, vindictive, and violent disposition.
Thirdly, St. Jerome, Haymo, and St. Thomas think that in the extension of the finger mockery and derision are signified. Thus it is forbidden here to detract from one’s neighbor and to mark individuals, as it were, with the finger. Hence the Chaldee paraphrase translates: If you cease to beckon with the finger. In this way even common people mock their own, when by extending two fingers toward someone they form, as it were, horns upon him, thereby signifying that he is cuckolded or that his wife has other lovers. So too Diogenes the Cynic, as Laërtius reports, by extending his middle finger toward Demosthenes accused him of disgrace. For in ancient times the middle finger was infamous, and to be pointed out with it was a grave insult; by it they signified a man to be soft and effeminate. Hence that finger was called impudicus, the shameless finger, of which Martial writes (Book 2): He points with a finger—but the shameless one, namely the middle. On the contrary, to be pointed at with the second finger, called the index, was honorable and praiseworthy. Thus Delrio notes (Adage 801), drawing from Cicero, Persius, and others. In this sense also it is said of a wanton and impure woman: She speaks with her finger. Democritus, however, in Juvenal’s tenth satire, pointed with his finger to the rope and the gallows, when
He himself commanded the noose to Fortune in menace
and showed her the middle nail.
Fourthly, the Septuagint translate: If you remove from yourself χειροτονία (cheirotonia), that is, the stretching out of the hand in choosing a magistrate; as if to say, if in electing a magistrate you do not stretch out your hand for bribes, nor allow yourself to be corrupted by gifts; or again, if you do not readily or lightly stretch out your finger to choose unworthy men—because they are relatives, friends, or benefactors.
Nazianzen (Oration 14, On the Love of the Poor) explains the word χειροτονία as probation or examination, that is, a scrutiny, by which he censures the avarice of those who give alms, who as it were count on their fingers how much they have given, or point out that they have given before, or show that others are now indebted to them for alms. Better, however, Nicetas in his commentary on Nazianzen interprets probation as investigation, that is, an over-curious inquiry, whereby one asks whether the poor man is truly poor and worthy of alms. This appears more clearly if χειροτονία is taken literally as the stretching out of the hand or fingers. For this is what the Hebrew word signifies; and it is more likely that the Septuagint wished not to depart from this, as Delrio rightly observes in the place already cited. Therefore the third sense, and likewise the second, seem most genuine.
“And if you cease to speak what is useless.” Hebrew: אָוֶן (ʾāwen), that is, iniquity—namely lawsuits, quarrels, oppression of the poor, mockeries, and insults. Hence the Septuagint translate murmurings.
Is 58:10. When you pour out your soul to the hungry. That is, the bowels of mercy—namely the inmost affections of compassion—by sympathizing, having mercy, and abundantly and generously relieving his distress. This is what pouring out signifies. The Septuagint translate: If you give bread to the hungry from your soul, that is, from the sincere and whole affection of your soul; for God regards the intention of the giver more than the gift itself. “God,” says St. Gregory (Moralia 22.12), “weighs not the thing given, but the affection.”
“And satisfy the afflicted soul,” afflicted by hunger, nakedness, or sorrow, by food, clothing, consolation, and joy.
“Then your light shall rise in the darkness, and your darkness shall be as the noonday.” That is, in the midst of calamities there shall arise for you a freedom, joy, and prosperity as great as the light of midday. Again, in darkness—that is, in the struggle and terror of death—there will be for you consolation, and hope of salvation, and of eternal light and glory. For God will calm and dispel all the fears and anxieties of the soul, all its clouds. See what was said on verse 8. Thus in Job 11:17 it is said: Your life shall be brighter than the noonday; that is, when you think yourself consumed, you shall rise like the morning star. There Leo the Hebrew translates: The whole course of your life shall be brighter than noon. For the light of noon is the clearest and most delightful, casting no shadow; as if to say, in the same way, O Job, your remaining life will be full of happiness, disturbed by no shadow of adversity and darkened by no fear of misfortune.
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