The Greeks, again, sought after wisdom.  If St. Paul was (as he said) the apostle of God, then they expected him to argue with them on cunning points of philosophy; about the being of God, the nature of the world and of the soul; about finite and infinite, cause and effect, being and not being, and all those dark questions with which they astonished simple people, and gained power over them, and set up for wise men and teachers to their own profit and glory, pampering their own luxury and self-conceit.  And all St. Paul gave them, seemed to them mere foolishness.  He could have argued with these Greeks on those deep matters; for he was a great scholar, and a true philosopher, and could speak wisdom among those who were perfect:  but he would not.  He determined to know nothing among them but Jesus Christ, and him crucified; and he told them, You disputers of this world, while you are deceiving simple souls with enticing words of man’s wisdom and philosophy, falsely so called, you are trifling away your own souls and your hearers’ into hell.  What you need, and what they need, is not philosophy, but a new heart and a right spirit.  Sin is your disease; and you know that it is so, in the depth of your hearts.  Then know this, that God so loved you, sinners as you are, that he condescended to become mortal man, and to give himself up to death, even the shameful and horrible death of the cross, that he might save you from your sins; and he that would be saved now, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow him.  And to that, those proud Greeks answered,—­That is a tale unworthy of philosophers.  The Cross?  It is a death of shame—­the death of slaves and wretches.  Tell your tale to slaves, not to us.  To give himself up to the death of the cross is foolishness, and not the wisdom which we want.  Then answered St. Paul and said,—­True.  The cross is a slave’s and a wretch’s death; and therefore slaves and wretches will hear me, though you will not.  ’For you see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called:  but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are:  that no flesh should glory in his presence.’  For the foolishness of God is wiser than all the wisdom of men.  You Greeks, with all your philosophy and your wisdom, have been trying, for hundreds of years, to find out the laws of heaven and earth, and to set the world right by them; and you have not done it.  You have not found out the secrets of the world.  You have not set the world right.  You have not even set your own hearts and lives right.  But what your seeming wisdom cannot do, the seeming foolishness of Christ on his cross will do.  Does