Clement of Alexandria, The Instructor 1.7

Since we have demonstrated that Scripture calls all of us children, and that we who follow Christ are allegorically termed infants—while only the Father of all is perfect, because the Son is in Him and the Father is in the Son—it is time, following the logical order, to identify our instructor. His name is Jesus. At times He calls Himself a shepherd and declares, "I am the good shepherd" (John 10:11). By this metaphor, drawn from shepherds who lead their flocks, the One who guides children is understood as a tutor, the guardian shepherd of infants; for infants are simple, like sheep, allegorically speaking. He also says, "And they will become one flock and one shepherd." The Word, then, is rightly our instructor, leading us children to salvation. The Word has spoken very clearly about Himself through Hosea: "I am your instructor." True piety is itself instruction—teaching the service of God and training that brings knowledge of the truth, an upright guidance that leads to heaven. The word 'instruction' is used in several senses: the condition of the one being led and learning, the activity of the one leading and teaching, the guidance itself, and fourth, the things taught, such as the commandments. But instruction that comes from God is the straight guidance of truth toward the contemplation of God and the imitation of holy deeds in eternal abiding. Just as a general directs his phalanx, providing for the salvation of his soldiers, and a helmsman steers his vessel, intending to save those on board, so our instructor leads the children to a salvific way of life out of guardianship for us. In general, whatever good things we might reasonably ask God to grant us, we will obtain them by obeying the instructor. As a helmsman does not always yield to the winds, but sometimes resists head-on the opposing storms, so the instructor never yields to the winds that blow in this world, nor does He allow them to drive the child, like a ship, into a savage and shameless way of life. Rather, lifted by the Spirit of truth alone, He firmly holds the helm of the child—that is, the ears—until He brings the child safely into the harbor of heaven. The so-called paternal custom among men has not yet passed away, but divine instruction is a possession that endures forever. It is said that Achilles' tutor was Phoenix, and Croesus' children had Adrastus, Alexander had Leonidas, and Philip had Nausithous. But Phoenix was a womanizer, Adrastus a fugitive, Leonidas did not restrain the Macedonian's pride, and Nausithous failed to cure the drunkard from Pella. Zopyrus the Thracian could not restrain Alcibiades' prostitution; indeed Zopyrus was a slave for sale. The tutor of Themistocles' children, Sicinnus, was a lazy servant; they say he invented the sikinnis dance. We have not forgotten the royal tutors among the Persians, whom the Persian kings selected as the four best from all Persians and appointed over their own children. Yet those children learn only archery from them, and upon reaching adulthood they cohabit with sisters, mothers, wives, and countless concubines, like boars accustomed to intercourse. But our instructor is the holy God Jesus, the Word who leads all humanity; the philanthropic God Himself is our instructor. The Holy Spirit says somewhere in a song concerning Him: "He satisfied the people in the wilderness, in thirst and heat, in a waterless land; He encircled them, instructed them, and guarded them as the apple of His eye. Like an eagle covering its nest and yearning over its young, He spread His wings, took them up, and bore them on His shoulders; the Lord alone led them, and no foreign god was with them." Clearly, I think, Scripture reveals the instructor by describing His guidance.