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ST. JOHN CHRYSTOSTOM

HOMILIES 79-90 ON THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. MATTHEW

[Translated by Rev. Sir George Prevost, Baronet, M.A.
of Oriel College, Oxford.]


HOMILY LXXIX: MATT. XXV. 31--41.

"When the Son of Man shall come in the glory of His Father, and all the 
holy angels with Him, then shall He sit," saith He, "upon the throne of His 
glory, and He shall divide the sheep from the kids;"(1) [and the one He 
will accept, because they fed Him, when an hungered, and gave Him drink 
when thirsty, and took Him in when a stranger, and clothed Him when naked, 
and visited Him when sick, and came to see Him when in prison: and He will 
give the kingdom to them. But the others, accusing them for the opposite 
things, He will send into the eternal fire, prepared for the devil and his 
angels.](2)

    Unto this most delightful portion of Scripture, which we do not cease 
continually revolving, let us now listen with all earnestness and 
compunction, this wherewith His discourse ended, even as the last thing, 
reasonably; for great indeed was His regard for philanthropy and mercy. 
Wherefore in what precedes He had discoursed concerning this in a different 
way; and here now in some respects more clearly, and more earnestly, not 
setting forth two nor three nor five persons, but the whole world; although 
most assuredly the former places, which speak of two persons, meant not two 
persons, but two portions of mankind, one of them that disobey, the other 
of the obedient. But here He handleth the word more fearfully, and with 
fuller light. Wherefore neither doth He say, "The kingdom is likened," any 
more, but openly shows Himself, saying, "When the Son of Man shall come in 
His glory." For now is He come in dishonor, now in affronts and reproaches; 
but then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory.

    And continually doth He make mention of glory. For since the cross was 
near, a thing that seemed to be matter of reproach, for this cause He 
raises up the hearer; and brings before his sight the judgment seat, and 
setteth round him all the world.

    And not in this way only doth He make His discourse awful, but also by 
showing the Heavens opened. For all the angels will be present with Him, He 
saith, themselves also to bear witness, in how many things they had 
ministered, when sent by the Lord for the salvation of men.

    And everything will help to render that day fearful. Then, "shall be 
gathered together," He saith, "all nations," that is, the whole race of 
men. "And He shall separate them one from another, as the shepherd his 
sheep." For now they are not separated, but all mingled together, but the 
division then shall be made with all exactness. And for a while it is by 
their place that He divides them, and makes them manifest; afterwards by 
the names He indicates the dispositions of each, calling the one kids,(1) 
the other sheep, that He might indicate the unfruitfulness of the one, for 
no fruit will come from kids; and the great profit from the other, for 
indeed from sheep great is the profit, as well from the milk, as from the 
wool, and from the young, of all which things the kid(2) is destitute.

    But while the brutes have from nature their unfruitfulness, and 
fruitfulness, these have it from choice, wherefore some are punished, and 
the others crowned. And He doth not punish them, until He hath pleaded with 
them; wherefore also, when He hath put them in their place, He mentions the 
charges against them. And they speak with meekness, but they have no 
advantage from it now; and very reasonably, because they passed by a work 
so much to be desired. For indeed the prophets are everywhere saying this, 
"I will have mercy and not sacrifice,"(3) and the lawgiver by all means 
urged them to this, both by words, and by works; and nature herself taught 
it.

    But mark them, how they are destitute not of one or two things only, 
but of all. For not only did they fail to feed the hungry, or clothe the 
naked; but not even did they visit the sick, which was an easier thing.

    And mark how easy are His injunctions. He said not, "I was in prison, 
and ye set me free; I was sick, and ye raised me up again;" but, "ye 
visited me," and, "ye came unto me." And neither in hunger is the thing 
commanded grievous. For no costly table did He seek, but what is needful 
only, and His necessary food, and He sought in a suppliant's garb, so that 
all things were enough to bring punishment on them; the easiness. of the 
request, for it was bread; the pitiable character of Him that requesteth, 
for He was. poor; the sympathy of nature, for He was a man; the 
desirableness of the promise, for He promised a kingdom; the fearfulness of 
the punishment, for He threatened hell. The dignity of the one receiving, 
for it was God, who was receiving by the poor; the surpassing nature of the 
honor, that He vouchsafed to condescend so far; His just claim for what 
they bestowed. for of His own was He receiving. But against all these 
things covetousness once for all blinded them that were seized by it; and 
this though so great a threat was set against it.

    For further back also He saith, that they who receive not such as these 
shall suffer more grievous things than Sodom; and here He saith, "Inasmuch 
as ye did it not unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it not 
unto me."(4) What sayest Thou? they are Thy brethren; and how dost Thou 
call them least. Why, for this reason they are brethren, because they are 
lowly, because they are poor, because they are outcast. For such doth He 
most invite to brotherhood, the unknown, the contemptible, not meaning by 
these the monks only, and them that have occupied the mountains, but every 
believer; though he be a secular person, yet if he be hungry, and 
famishing, and naked, and a stranger, His will is he should have the 
benefit of all this care. For baptism renders a man a brother, and the 
partaking of the divine mysteries.

    2. Then, in order that thou mayest see in another way also the justice 
of the sentence, He first praises them that have done right, and saith, 
"Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you before 
the foundation of the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat," 
and all that follows.(1) For that they may not say, we had it not, He 
condemns them by their fellow-servants; like as the virgins by the virgins, 
and the servant that was drunken and gluttonous by the faithful servant, 
and him that buried his talent, by them that brought the two, and each one 
of them that continue in sin, by them that have done right.

    And this comparison is sometimes made in the case of an equal, as here, 
and in the instance of the virgins, sometimes of him that hath advantage, 
as when he said, "The men of Nineveh shall rise up and shall condemn this 
generation, because they believed at the preaching of Jonas; and, behold, a 
greater than Jonas is here;" and, "The queen of the south shall condemn 
this generation, because she came to hear the wisdom of Solomon;"(2) and of 
an equal again, "They shall be your judges;"(3) and again of one at 
advantage, "Know ye not, that we shall judge angels, how much more things 
that pertain to this life?"(4)

    And here, however, it is of an equal; for he compares rich with rich, 
and poor with poor. And not in this way only doth He show the sentence 
justly passed, by their fellow-servants having done what was right when in 
the same circumstances, but also by their not being obedient so much as in 
these things in which poverty was no hindrance; as, for instance, in giving 
drink to the thirsty, in looking upon him that is in bonds, in visiting the 
sick. And when He had commended them that had done right, He shows how 
great was originally His bond of love towards them. For, "Come," saith He, 
"ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the 
foundation of the world." To how many good things is this same equivalent, 
to be blessed, and blessed of the Father? And wherefore were they counted 
worthy of such great honors? What is the cause? "I was an hungered, and ye 
gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink;" and what follows.

    Of what honor, of what blessedness are these words? And He said not, 
Take, but, "Inherit," as one's own, as your Father's, as yours, as due to 
you from the first. For, before you were, saith He, these things had been 
prepared, and made ready for you, forasmuch as I knew you would be such as 
you are.

    And in return for what do they receive such things? For the covering of 
a roof, for a garment, for bread, for cold water, for visiting, for going 
into the prison. For indeed in every case it is for what is needed; and 
sometimes not even for that. For surely, as I have said, the sick and he 
that is in bonds seeks not for this only, but the one to be loosed, the 
other to be delivered from his infirmity. But He, being gracious, requires 
only what is within our power, or rather even less than what is within our 
power, leaving to us to exert our generosity in doing more.

    But to the others He saith, "Depart from me, ye cursed," (no longer of 
the Father; for not He laid the curse upon them, but their own works), 
"into the everlasting fire, prepared," not for you, but "for the devil and 
his angels." For concerning the kingdom indeed, when He had said, "Come, 
inherit the kingdom," He added, "prepared for you before the foundation of 
the world;" but concerning the fire, no longer so, but, "prepared for the 
devil." I, saith He, prepared the kingdom for you, but the fire no more for 
you, but "for the devil and his angels;" but since ye cast yourselves 
therein, impute it to yourselves. And not in this way only, but by what 
follows also, like as though He were excusing Himself to them, He sets 
forth the causes.

    "For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat," For though He that 
came to thee had been thine enemy, were not His sufferings enough to have 
overcome and subdued even the merciless? hunger, and cold, and bonds, and 
nakedness, and sickness. and to wander everywhere houseless? These things 
are sufficient even to destroy enmity. But ye did not these things even to 
a friend, being at once friend, and benefactor, and Lord. Though it be a 
dog we see hungry, often we are overcome; and though we behold a wild 
beast, we are subdued; but seeing the Lord, art thou not subdued? And 
wherein are these things worthy of defense?

    For if it were this only, were it not sufficient for a recompense? (I 
speak not of hearing such a voice, in the presence of the world, from Him 
that sitteth on the Father's throne, and of obtaining the kingdom), but 
were not the very doing it sufficient for a reward? But now even in the 
presence of the world, and at the appearing of that unspeakable glory, He 
proclaims and crowns thee, and acknowledges thee as His sustainer and host, 
and is not ashamed of saying such things, that He may make the crown 
brighter for thee.

    So for this cause, while the one are punished justly, the others are 
crowned by grace. For though they had done ten thousand things, the 
munificence were of grace, that in return for services so small and cheap, 
such a heaven, and a kingdom, and so great honor, should be given them.

    "And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished these sayings,(1) He said 
unto His disciples, Ye know that after two days is the passover, and the 
Son of Man is betrayed to be crucified."(2) In good season again doth He 
speak of the passion, when He had reminded them of the kingdom, and of the 
recompense there, and of the deathless punishment; as though He had said, 
Why are ye afraid at the dangers that are for a season, when such good 
things await you?

    3. But mark thou, I pray thee, how He hath in all His first sayings 
after a new manner worked up and thrown into the shade what was most 
painful to them. For He said not, Ye know that after two days I am 
betrayed, but, "Ye know that after two days is the passover,"(3) to show 
that what is done is a mystery and that a feast and celebration is being 
kept for the salvation of the world, and that with foreknowledge He 
suffered all, So then, as though this were sufficient consolation for them, 
He did not even say anything to them now about a resurrection; for it was 
superfluous, after having discoursed so much about it, to speak of it 
again. And moreover, as I said. He shows that even His very passion is a 
deliverance from countless evils, having by the passover reminded them of 
the ancient benefits in Egypt.

    "Then were assembled together the chief priests, and the scribes, and 
the elders of the people, in the palace of the high priest, who was called 
Caiaphas, and consulted that they might take Jesus by subtlety, and kill 
Him. But they said, Not on the feast day, lest there be an uproar among the 
people."(4)

    Seest thou the unspeakable corruption of the Jewish state? Attempting 
unlawful acts, they come to the high priest, desiring to obtain their 
authority from that quarter, whence they ought to have found hindrance.

    And how many high priests were there? For the law wills there should be 
one, but then there were many. Whence it is manifest, that the Jewish 
constitution had begun to dissolve. For Moses, as I said, commanded there 
should be one, and that when he was dead there should be another, and by 
the life of this person He measured the banishment of them that had 
involuntarily committed manslaughter. How then were there at that time many 
high priests? They were afterwards made for a year. And this the evangelist 
declared, when he was speaking of Zacharias, saying, that he was of the 
course of Abia. Those therefore doth he here call high priests, who had 
been high priests.

    What did they consult together? That they might seize Him secretly, or 
that they might put Him to death? Both; for they feared the people. 
Wherefore also they waited for the feast to be past; for "they said, Not on 
the feast day."(5) For the devil, lest he should make the passion 
conspicuous, was not willing it should take place at the passover; but 
they, lest there should be an uproar. Mark them then ever fearing, not the 
ills from God, neither lest any greater pollution should arise to them from 
the season, but in every case the ills from men.

    Yet for all this, boiling with anger, they changed their purpose again. 
For though they had said, "Not at the feast time;" when they found the 
traitor, they waited not for the time, but slew Him at the feast. But why 
did they take Him then? They were boiling with rage, as I said; and they 
expected then to find Him, and all things they did as blinded. For though 
He Himself made the greatest use of their wickedness for His own 
dispensation, they were not surely for this guiltless, but deserving of 
inflictions without number for their temper of mind. At least when all 
should be set free, even the guilty, then these men slew the guiltless, Him 
that had conferred on them countless benefits, and who for a time had 
neglected the Gentiles for their sake. But O loving-kindness! them that 
were thus depraved, them that were thus froward, and(6) full of countless 
evils, He again saves, and sends the apostles to be slain in their behalf, 
and by the apostles makes entreaty. "For we are ambassadors for Christ."(7)

    Having then such patterns as these, I say not, let us die for our 
enemies, for we ought to do even this; but since we are too feeble for 
this, I say for the present, at least let us not look with an evil eye upon 
our friends, let us not envy our benefactors. I say not for the present, 
let us do good to them that evil entreat us, for I desire even this; but 
since you are too gross for this, at least avenge not yourselves. What is 
our condition, a scene. and acting? Wherefore can it be that ye set 
yourselves directly against the acts enjoined? It is not for nought that 
all else hath been written and how many things He did at the very cross 
sufficient to recall them to Him; but that thou mightest imitate His 
goodness, that thou mightest emulate His lovingkindness. For indeed He east 
them to the ground, and restored the servant's ear, and discoursed with 
forbearance; and great miracles did He show forth, when lifted up, turning 
aside the sunbeams, bursting the rocks, raising the dead, frightening by 
dreams the wife of him that was judging Him, at the very judgment showing 
forth all meekness (which was of power not less than miracles to gain them 
over), forewarning them of countless things in the judgment hall; on the 
very cross crying aloud, "Father, forgive them their sin."(1) And when 
buried. how many things did He show forth for their salvation? And having 
risen again, did he not straightway call the Jews? did He not give them 
remission of sins? did He not set before them countless blessings? What can 
be more strange than this? They that crucified Him, and were breathing 
murder, after they crucified Him, became sons of God.

    What can be equal to this tenderness? On hearing these things let us 
hide our faces, to think that we are so far removed from Him whom we are 
commanded to imitate. Let us at least see how great the distance, that we 
may at any rate condemn ourselves, for warring with these, in behalf of 
whom Christ gave His life, and not being willing to be reconciled to them, 
whom that He might reconcile He refused not even to be slain; unless this 
too be some expense, and outlay of money, which ye object in almsgiving.

    4. Consider of how many things thou art guilty; and so far from being 
backward to forgive them that have injured thee, thou wilt even run unto 
them that have grieved thee, in order that thou mayest have a ground for 
pardon, that thou mayest find a remedy for thine own evil deeds.

    The sons of the Greeks, who look for nothing great, have often shown 
self-command toward these: and thou who art to depart hence with such 
hopes, shrinkest, and art slow to act; and that which time effects, this 
thou endurest not to do before the time for God's law, but willest this 
passion to be quenched without reward, rather than for a reward? For 
neither, if this should have arisen from the time, wilt thou have any 
advantage, but rather great will be the punishment, because, what time hath 
effected, this the law of God persuaded thee not to do.

    But if thou sayest that thou burnest with the memory of the insult; 
call to mind if any good hath been done thee by him that hath offended 
thee, and how many ills thou hast occasioned to others.

    Hath he spoken ill of thee, and disgraced thee? Consider also that thou 
hast spoken thus of others. How then wilt thou obtain pardon, which thou 
bestowest not on others? But hast thou spoken ill of no one? But thou hast 
heard men so speaking, and allowed it. Neither is this guiltless.

    Wilt thou learn how good a thing it is not to remember injuries, and 
how this more than anything pleases God? Them that exult over persons, 
justly chastised by Himself, He punishes. And yet they are justly 
chastised; but thou shouldest not rejoice over them. So the prophet having 
brought many accusations, added this also, saying, "They felt nothing for 
the affliction of Joseph;"(2) and again, "She that inhabiteth Enan, came 
not forth I to lament for the place near her."(3) And yet both Joseph (that 
is, the tribes that were sprung from him), and the neighbors of these 
others, were punished according to the purpose of God; nevertheless, it is 
His will that we sympathize even with these. For if we, being evil, when we 
are punishing a servant, if we should see one of his fellow slaves 
laughing, we at the same time are provoked the more, and turn our anger 
against him; much more will God punish them that exult over those whom He 
chastises. But if upon them that are chastised by God it is not right to 
trample, but to grieve with them, much more with them that have sinned 
against us. For this is love's sign; love God prefers to all things. For as 
in the royal purple, those are precious amongst the flowers and dyes, which 
make up this robing; so here too, these virtues are the precious ones, 
which preserve love. But nothing maintains love so much as the not 
remembering them that have sinned against us.

    "Why? did not God guard the other side also? Why? did He not drive him 
that hath done the wrong to him that is wronged? Doth He not send him from 
the altar to the other, and so after the reconciliation invite him to the 
table?" But do not therefore wait for the other to come, since thus thou 
hast lost all. For to this intent most especially doth He appoint unto thee 
an unspeakable reward, that thou mayest prevent the other, since, if thou 
art reconciled by his entreaties, the amity is no longer the result of the 
divine command, but of the other party's diligence. Wherefore also thou 
goest away uncrowned, while he receives the rewards.

    What sayest thou? Hast thou an enemy, and art thou not ashamed? Why is 
not the devil enough for us, that we bring upon ourselves those of our own 
race also? Would that not even he had been minded to war against us; would 
that not even he were a devil!

    Knowest thou not how great the pleasure after reconciliation? For what, 
though in our enmity it appear not great? For that it is sweeter to love 
him that doth us wrong than to hate him, after the enmity is done away thou 
shalt be able to learn full well.

    5. Why then do we imitate the mad, devouring one another, warring 
against our own flesh?

    Hear even under the Old Testament, how great regard there was for this, 
"The ways of revengeful men are unto death.(1) One man keepeth anger 
against another, and doth he seek healing of God?"(2) "And yet He allowed, 
'eye for eye,' and 'tooth for tooth,' how then doth He find fault?" Because 
He allowed even those things, not that we should do them one to another, 
but that through the fear of suffering, we might abstain from the 
commission of crime. And besides, those acts are the fruits of a short-
lived anger, but to remember injuries is the part of a soul that practises 
itself in evil.

    But hast thou suffered evil? yet nothing so great, as thou wilt do to 
thyself by remembering injuries. And besides, it is not so much as possible 
for a good man to suffer any evil. For suppose there to be any man, having 
both children and a wife, and let him practise virtue, and let him have 
moreover many occasions of being injured, as well abundance of possessions, 
as sovereign power, and many friends, and let him enjoy honor; only let him 
practise virtue, for this must be added, and let us in supposition lay 
plagues upon him. And let some wicked man come unto him, and involve him in 
losses. What then is that to him who accounts money nothing? Let him kill 
his children. What this to him, who learns to be wise touching the 
resurrection? Let him slay his wife; what is this to him who is instructed 
not to sorrow for them that are fallen asleep? let him cast him into 
dishonor. What this to him who accounts the things present, the flower of 
the grass? If thou wilt, let him also torture his body, and cast him into 
prison, what this to him that hath learnt, "Though our outward man perish, 
yet the inward man is renewed;"(3) and that "tribulation worketh 
approval?"(4)

    Now I had undertaken that he should receive no harm; but the account as 
it proceeded hath shown that he is even advantaged, being renewed, and 
becoming approved.

    Let us not then vex ourselves with others, injuring ourselves, and 
rendering our soul weak. For the vexation is not so much from our 
neighbors' wickedness, as from our weakness. Because of this, should any 
one insult us, we weep, and frown; should any one rob us, we suffer the 
same like those little children, which the more clever of their companions 
provoke for nothing, grieving them for small causes; but nevertheless these 
too, if they should see them vexed, continue to tease them, but if 
laughing, they on the contrary leave off. But we are more foolish even than 
these, lamenting for these things, about which we ought to laugh.

    Wherefore I entreat, let us let go this childish mind, and lay hold of 
Heaven. For indeed, Christ willeth us to be men, perfect men. On this wise 
did Paul also command, "Brethren, be not children in understanding," he 
saith, "howbeit in malice be ye children."(5)

    Let us therefore be children(6) in malice, and flee wickedness, and lay 
hold on virtue, that we may attain also to the good things eternal, by the 
grace and love towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and 
might, world without end. Amen.


HOMILY LXXX: MATT. XXVI. 6, 7.

Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper, there came 
unto Him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious ointment, and 
poured it on His head, as He sat at meat."

    This woman seems indeed to be one and the same with all the 
evangelists, yet she is not so; but though with the three she cloth seem to 
me to be one and the same,(1) yet not so with John, but another person, one 
much to be admired, the sister of Lazarus.

    But not without purpose did the evangelist mention the leprosy of 
Simon, but in order that He might show whence the woman took confidence, 
and came unto Him. For inasmuch as the leprosy seemed a most unclean 
disease, and to be abhorred, and yet she saw Jesus had both healed the man 
(for else He would not have chosen to have tarried with a leper), and had 
gone into his house; she grew confident, that He would also easily wipe off 
the uncleanness of her soul. And not for nought doth He name the city also, 
Bethany, but that thou mightest learn, that of His own will He cometh to 
His passion. For He who before this was fleeing through the midst of them; 
then, at the time when their envy was most kindled, comes near within about 
fifteen furlongs; so completely was His former withdrawing Himself a part 
of a dispensation.(2)

    The woman therefore having seen Him, and having taken confidence from 
thence came unto Him. For if she that had the issue of blood, although 
conscious to herself of nothing like this, yet because of that natural 
seeming uncleanness, approached Him trembling and in fear; much more was it 
likely this woman should be slow, and shrink back because of her evil 
conscience. Wherefore also it is after many women, the Samaritan, the 
Canaanite, her that had the issue of blood, and other besides, that she 
cometh unto Him, being conscious to herself of much impurity; and then not 
publicly but in a house. And whereas all the others were coming unto Him 
for the healing of the body alone, she came unto Him by way of honor only, 
and for the amendment of the soul. For neither was she at all afflicted in 
body, so that for this most especially one might marvel at her.

    And not as to a mere man did she come unto Him; for then she would not 
have wiped His feet with her hair, but as to one greater than man can be. 
Therefore that which is the most honorable member of the whole body, this 
she laid at Christ's feet, even her own head.

    "But when His disciples saw it, they had indignation," such are the 
words, "saying, To what purpose is this waste? For this ointment might have 
been sold for much, and given to the poor. But when Jesus understood it, He 
said, Why trouble ye the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon me? 
For ye have the poor always with you, but me ye have not always. For in 
that she hath poured this ointment on my body, she did it for my burial. 
Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the 
whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for 
a memorial of her.

    And whence had they this thought? They used to hear their Master 
saying, "I will have mercy, and not sacrifice,"(4) and blaming the Jews, 
because they omitted the weightier matters, judgment, and mercy, and faith, 
and discoursing much on the mount concerning almsgiving, and from these 
things they inferred with themselves, and reasoned, that if He accepts not 
whole burnt offerings, neither the ancient worship, much more will He not 
accept the anointing of oil.

    But though they thus thought, He knowing her intention suffers her. For 
indeed great was her reverence, and unspeakable her zeal; wherefore of this 
exceeding condescension, He permitted the oil to be poured even on His 
head.

    For if He refused not to become man, and to be borne in the womb, and 
to be fed at the breast, why marvellest thou, if He doth not utterly reject 
this? For like as the Father suffered a savor of meat, and smoke, even so 
did He the harlot, accepting, as I have already said, her intention. For 
Jacob too anointed a pillar to God, and oil was offered in the sacrifices, 
and the priests were anointed with ointment.

    But the disciples not knowing her purpose found fault unseasonably, and 
by the things they laid to her charge, they show the woman's munificence. 
For saying, that it might have been sold for three hundred pence, they 
showed how much this woman had spent on the ointment, and how great 
generosity she had manifested. Wherefore He also rebuked them, saying, "Why 
trouble ye the woman?" And He adds a reason, as it was His will again to 
put them in mind of His passion, "For she did it," He said, "for my 
burial." And another reason. "For ye have the poor always with you, but me 
ye have not always;" and, "Wheresoever the gospel shall be preached, that 
shall be told also which this woman hath done."

    Seest thou how again He declares beforehand the going forth unto the 
Gentiles, in this way also consoling them for His death, if after the cross 
His power was so to shine forth, that the gospel should be spread abroad in 
every part of the earth.

    Who then is so wretched as to set his face against so much truth? For 
lo! what He said is come to pass, and to whatever part of the earth thou 
mayest go, thou wilt see her celebrated.

    And yet neither was the person that did it distinguished, nor had what 
was done many witnesses, neither was it in a theatre, but in a house, that 
it took place, and this a house of some leper, the disciples only being 
present.

    2. Who then proclaimed it, and caused it to be spread abroad? It was 
the power of Him who is speaking these words. And while of countless kings 
and generals the noble exploits even of those whose memorials remain have 
sunk into silence; and having overthrown cities, and encompassed them with 
walls,(1) and set up trophies, and enslaved many nations, they are not 
known so much as by hearsay, nor by name, though they have both set up 
statues, and established laws; yet that a woman who was a harlot poured out 
oil in the house of some leper, in the presence of ten men, this all men 
celebrate throughout the world; and so great a time has passed, and yet the 
memory of that which was done hath not faded away, but alike Persians and 
Indians, Scythians and Thracians, and Sarmatians, and the race of the 
Moors, and they that dwell in the British Islands, spread abroad that which 
was done secretly in a house by a woman that had been a harlot.(2)

    Great is the loving-kindness of the Lord. He endureth an harlot, an 
harlot kissing his feet, and moistening them with oil, and wiping them with 
her hair, and He receives her, and reproves them that blame her. For 
neither was it right that for so much zeal the woman should be driven to 
despair.

    But mark thou this too, how far they were now raised up above the 
world, and forward in almsgiving. And why was it He did not merely say, 
"She hath wrought a good work," but before this, "Why trouble ye the 
woman?" That they might learn not at the beginning to require too high 
principles of the weaker sort. Therefore neither doth He examine the act 
merely itself by itself, but taking into account the person of the woman. 
And indeed if He had been making a law, He would not have brought in the 
woman, but that thou mightest learn that for her sake these things were 
said, that they might not mar her budding faith, but rather cherish it, 
therefore He saith it, teaching us whatever good thing may be done by any 
man, though it be not quite perfect, to receive it, and encourage it, and 
advance it, and not to seek all perfection at the beginning. For, that at 
least He Himself would rather have desired this, is manifest from the fact, 
that He required a bag to be borne, who had not where to lay His head. But 
then the time demanded not this, that He should correct the deed, but that 
He should accept it only. For even as, if any one asked Him, without the 
woman's having done it, He would not have approved this; so, after she had 
done it, He looks to one thing only, that she be not driven to perplexity 
by the reproof of the disciples, but that she should go from His care, 
having been made more cheerful and better. For indeed after the oil had 
been poured out, their rebuke had no seasonableness.

    Do thou then likewise, if thou shouldest see any one provide sacred 
vessels and offer them, and loving to labor upon any other ornament of the 
church, about its walls or floor; do not command what has been made to be 
sold, or overthrown, lest thou spoil his zeal. But if, before he had 
provided them, he were to tell thee of it, command it to be given to the 
poor; forasmuch as He also did this not to spoil the spirit of the woman, 
and as many things as He says, He speaks for her comfort.

    Then because He had said, 'She hath done it for my burial;" that He 
might not seem to perplex the woman, by making mention of such a thing as 
this, His burial and death, I mean; see how by that which follows He 
recovers her, saying, "What she hath done shall be spoken of in the whole 
world."

    And this was at once consolation to His disciples, and comfort and 
praise to her. For all men, He saith, shall celebrate her hereafter; and 
now too hath she announced beforehand my passion, by bringing unto me what 
was needed for a funeral, let not therefore any man reprove her. For I am 
so far from condemning her as having done amiss, or from blaming her as 
having not acted rightly, that I will not suffer what hath been done to lie 
hid, but the world shall know that which has been done in a house, and in 
secret. For in truth the deed came of a reverential mind, and fervent 
faith, and a contrite soul.

    And wherefore did He promise the woman nothing spiritual; but the 
perpetual memory? From this He is causing her to feel a confidence about 
the other things also. For if she hath wrought a good work, it is quite 
evident she shall receive a due reward.

    "Then went one of the twelve, he that was called Judas Iscariot, unto 
the chief priests, and said unto them, What will ye give me, and I will 
deliver Him unto you?"(1) Then. When? When these things were spoken, when 
He had said, it is for my burial, and not even thereby was he moved to 
compunction, neither when he heard that the Gospel should be preached 
everywhere did he fear (and yet it was the language of unspeakable power), 
but when women showed so much honor, and women that had been harlots, then 
he wrought the devil's works.

    But what can be the reason they mention his surname? Because there was 
also another Judas. And they do not shrink from saying, He was of the 
twelve; so entirely do they hide none of those things which seem to be 
matters of reproach. And yet they might have said merely this, that he was 
one of the disciples, for there were others besides. But now they add, of 
the twelve, as though they had said, of the first company of those selected 
as the best, of them with Peter and John. Because for one thing did they 
care, for truth alone, not for concealing what things were done.

    For this cause many of the signs they pass by, but of the things that 
appear to be matters of reproach they conceal nothing; but though it be 
word, though it be deed, though it be what you will of this kind, they 
proclaim it with confidence.

    3. And not these only, but even John himself, who utters the higher 
doctrines. For he most of all tells us of the affronts and the reproachful 
things that were done unto Him.

    And see how great is the wickedness of Judas, in that he comes unto 
them of his own accord, in that he does this for money, and for such a sum 
of money.

    But Luke saith, that he conferred with the chief captains.(2) For after 
that the Jews became seditious, the Romans set over them those that should 
provide for their good order For their government had now undergone a 
change according to the prophecy.

    To these then he went and said, "What will ye give me, and I will 
deliver him unto you. And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of 
silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray Him."(3) For 
indeed he was afraid of the multitude, and desired to seize him alone.

    Oh madness! how did covetousness altogether blind him! For he that had 
often seen Him when He went through the midst, and was not seized, and when 
He afforded many demonstrations of His Godhead and power, looked to lay 
hold on Him; and this while He was using like a charm for him so many, both 
awful and soothing words, to put an end to this evil thought. For not even 
at the supper did He forbear from this care of him, but unto the last day 
discoursed to him of these things. But he profited nothing. Yet not for 
that did the Lord cease to do His part. Knowing this, then, let us also not 
intermit to do all things unto them that sin and are remiss, warning, 
teaching, exhorting, admonishing, advising, though we profit nothing. For 
Christ indeed foreknew that the traitor was incorrigible, yet nevertheless 
He ceased not to supply what could be done by Himself, as well admonishing 
as threatening and bewailing over him, and nowhere plainly, nor openly, but 
in a concealed way. And at the very time of the betrayal, He allowed him 
even to kiss Him, but this benefited him nothing. So great an evil is 
covetousness, this made him both a traitor, and a sacrilegious robber.

    Hearken, all ye covetous, ye that have the disease of Judas; hearken, 
and beware of the calamity. For if he that was with Christ, and wrought 
signs, and had the benefit of so much instruction, because he was not freed 
from the disease, was sunk into such a gulf; how much more shall ye, who do 
not so much as listen to the Scripture, who are constantly riveted to the 
things present, become an easy prey to this calamity, unless ye have the 
advantage of constant care. Every day was that man with Him, who had not 
where to lay His head, and every day was he instructed by deeds, and by 
words, not to have gold, nor silver, nor two coats; and yet he was not 
taught self restraint; and how dost thou expect to escape the disease, if 
thou hast not the benefit of earnest attention, and dost not use much 
diligence? For terrible, terrible is the monster, yet nevertheless, if thou 
be willing, thou wilt easily get the better of him. For the desire is not 
natural; and this is manifest from them that are free from it. For natural 
things are common to all; but this desire has its origin from remissness 
alone; hence it takes its birth, hence it derives its increase, and when it 
has seized upon those who look greedily after it, it makes them live 
contrary to nature. For when they regard not their fellow countrymen, their 
friends, their brethren,(1) in a word all men, and with these even 
themselves, this is to live against nature. Whence it is evident that the 
vice and disease of covetousness, wherein Judas, being entangled, became a 
traitor, is contrary to nature. And how did he become such a one, you may 
say, having been called by Christ? Because God's call is not compulsory, 
neither does it force the will of them who are not minded to choose virtue, 
but admonishes indeed, and advises, and does and manages all things, so as 
to persuade men to become good; but if some endure not, it does not compel. 
But if thou wouldest learn from what cause he became such as he was, thou 
wilt find him to have been ruined by covetousness.

    And how was he taken by this calamity? one may say. Because he grew 
remiss. For hence arise such changes, as on the other hand, those for the 
better from diligence. How many for instance that were violent, are now 
more gentle than lambs? how many lascivious persons have become afterwards 
continent? how many, heretofore covetous, yet now have cast away even their 
own possessions? And the contrary again has been the result of remissness. 
For Gehazi also lived with a holy man, and he too became depraved from the 
same disease. For this calamity is the most grievous of all. Hence come 
robbers of tombs, hence menslayers, hence wars and fightings, and 
whatsoever evil thou mayest mention, it cometh hence. And in every respect 
is such a one useless, whether it be requisite to lead an army or to guide 
a people: or rather not in public matters only, but also in private. If he 
is to marry a wife, he will not take the virtuous woman, but the vilest of 
all; if he have to buy a house, not that which becomes a free man, but what 
can bring much rent; if he is to buy slaves, or what else it may be, he 
will take the worst.

    And why do I speak of leading an army, and guiding a people, and 
managing households; for should he be a king, he is the most wretched of 
all men, and a pest to the world, and the poorest of all men. For he will 
feel like one of the common sort, not accounting all men's possessions to 
be his, but himself to be one of all; and when spoiling all men's goods, 
thinks himself to have less than any. For measuring the things present by 
his desire for those whereof he is not yet possessed, he will account the 
former nothing compared to the latter. Wherefore also one saith, "There is 
not a more wicked thing than a covetous man."(2)

    4. For such a one both setteth himself to sale, and goeth about, a 
common enemy of the world, grieving that the earth doth not bear gold 
instead of the corn, and the fountains instead of streams, and the 
mountains instead of stone; vexed at the fruitfulness of the seasons, 
troubled at common benefits; shunning every means whence one cannot obtain 
money; undergoing all things whence one can scrape together so much as two 
farthings; hating all men, the poor and the rich; the poor, lest they 
should come and beg of him; the rich. because he hath not their 
possessions. All men he accounts to be possessed of what is his, and as 
though he had been injured by all, so is he displeased with all. He knows 
not plenty, he has no experience of satiety, he is more wretched than any, 
even as, on the other hand, he that is freed from these things, and 
practises self-restraint, is the most enviable. For the virtuous man, 
though he be a servant, though a prisoner, is the most happy of all men. 
For no one shall do him ill, no not though all men should come together out 
of the world, setting in motion arms and camps, and warring with him. But 
he that is depraved and vile, and such as we have described, though he be a 
king, though he have on a thousand diadems, will suffer the utmost 
extremities, even from a common hand. So feeble is vice, so strong is 
virtue.

    Why then dost thou mourn, being in a state of poverty. Why wailest thou 
keeping a feast, for indeed it is an occasion of feasting. Why weepest 
thou, for poverty is a festival, if thou be wise. Why lamentest thou, thou 
little child; for such a one we should call a little child. Did such a 
person strike thee? What is this, he made thee more able to endure? But did 
he take away thy money? He hath removed the greater part of thy burden. But 
hath he cut off thine honor? Again thou tellest me of another kind of 
freedom. Hear even those without teaching wisdom touching these things, and 
saying, "Thou hast suffered no ill, if thou show no regard to it." But hath 
he taken away that great house of thine, which hath enclosures about it? 
But behold the whole earth is before thee, the public buildings, whether 
thou wouldest have them for delight, or for use. And what is more pleasing 
or more beautiful than the firmament of Heaven.

    How long are ye poor and needy? It is not possible for him to be rich, 
who is not wealthy in his soul; like as it is not possible for him to be 
poor, who hath not the poverty in his mind. For if the soul is a nobler 
thing than the body, the less noble parts have not power to affect it after 
themselves; but the noble part draws over unto herself, and changes those 
that are not so noble. For so the heart, when it has received any hurt, 
affects the whole body accordingly; if its temperament be disordered, it 
mars all, if it be rightly tempered, it profits all. And if any of the 
remaining parts should have become corrupt, while this remains sound, it 
easily shakes off what is evil in them also.

    And that I may further make what I say more plain, what is the use, I 
pray thee, of verdant branches, when the root is withering? and what is the 
harm of the leaves being withered above, while this is sound? So also here 
there is no use of money, while the soul is poor; neither harm from 
poverty, when the soul is rich. And how can a soul, one may say, be rich, 
being in want of money? Then above all times might this be; for then also 
is it wont to be rich.

    For if, as we have often shown, this is a sure proof of being rich, to 
despise wealth, and to want nothing; and of poverty again, to want, and any 
one would more easily despise money in poverty than in wealth, it is quite 
evident that to be in poverty rather makes one to be rich. For indeed that 
the rich man sets his heart on money more than the poor man, is surely 
plain to every one; like as the drunken man is thirsty, rather than he that 
hath partaken of drink sufficiently. For neither is his desire such as to 
be quenched by too much; but, on the contrary, it is its nature to be 
inflamed by this. For fire likewise, when it has received more food, then 
most of all waxes fierce; and the tyranny of wealth, when thou hast cast 
into it more gold, then most especially is increased.

    If then the desiring more be a mark of poverty; and he that is in the 
possession of riches is like this; he is especially in poverty. Seest thou 
that the soul then most of all is poor, when it is rich; and then is rich, 
when it is in poverty?

    And if thou wilt, let us exercise our reasoning in persons also, and 
let there be two, the one having ten thousand talents, the other ten, and 
from both let us take away these things. Who then will grieve the most? He 
that hath lost the ten thousand. But he would not have grieved more, unless 
he had loved it more; but if he loves more, he desires more; but if he 
desires more, he is more in poverty. For this do we most desire, of which 
we are most in want, for desire is from want. For where there is satiety, 
there cannot be desire. For then are we most thirsty, when we have most 
need of drink.

    And all these things have I said, to show that if we be vigilant, no 
one shall harm us; and that the harm arises not from poverty but from 
ourselves. Wherefore I beseech you with all diligence to put away the pest 
of covetousness, that we may both be wealthy here, and enjoy the good 
things eternal, unto which God grant we may all attain, by the grace and 
love towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory world without 
end. Amen.


HOMILY LXXXI: MATT. XXVI. 17, 18.

"Now the first day of the feast of unleavened bread the disciples came to 
Jesus, saying, Where wilt Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the 
Passover? And He said, Go into the city to such a man, and say unto him, 
The Master saith, My time is at hand; I will keep the Passover at thy house 
with My disciples."

    By the first day of the feast of unleavened bread, he means the day 
before that feast for they are accustomed always to reckon the day from the 
evening, and he makes mention of this in which in the evening the passover 
must be killed;(1) for on the fifth day of the week they came unto Him. And 
this one(2) calls the day before the feast of unleavened bread,(3) speaking 
of the time when they came to Him, and another saith on this wise, "Then 
came the day of unleavened bread, when the passover must be killed;"(4) by 
the word "came," meaning this, it was nigh, it was at the doors, making 
mention plainly of that evening. For they began with the evening, wherefore 
also each adds, when the passover was killed.

    And they say, "Where wilt Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the 
passover?" So even from this it is manifest, that He had no house, no place 
of sojourning; and I suppose neither had they. For surely they would have 
entreated him to come there. But neither had they any, having now parted 
with all things.

    But wherefore did He keep the passover? To indicate by all things unto 
the last day, that He is not opposed to the law.

    And for what possible reason doth He send them to an unknown person? To 
show by this also that He might have avoided suffering. For He who 
prevailed over this man's mind, so that he received them, and that by 
words; what would He not have done with them that crucified Him, if it had 
been His will not to suffer? And what He did about the ass, this He did 
here also. For there too He saith, "If any man say aught unto you, ye shall 
say, that the Lord hath need of them;"(5) and so likewise here, "The Master 
saith, I will keep the passover at thy house." But I marvel not at this 
only, that he received Him, being unknown, but that expecting to bring upon 
himself such enmity and implacable hostility, he despised the enmity of the 
multitude.

    After this, because they knew him not, He gave them a sign, like as the 
prophet touching Saul, saying, "Thou shall find one going up and carrying a 
bottle;"(6) and here, "carrying a pitcher." And see again the display of 
his power. For He did not only say, "I will keep the passover," but He adds 
another thing also, "My time is at hand." And this He did, at once 
continually reminding His disciples of the passion, so that exercised by 
the frequency of the prediction, they should be prepared for what was to 
take place; and at the same time to show to themselves, and to him that was 
receiving Him, and to all the Jews, which I have often mentioned, that not 
involuntarily doth He come to His passion. And He adds, "with my 
disciples," in order that both the preparation should be sufficient, and 
that the man should not suppose that He was concealing Himself.

    "Now when the even was come, He sat down with the twelve disciples."(7) 
Oh the shamelessness of Judas! For he too was present there, and came to 
partake both of the mysteries, and of the meal,(8) and is convicted at the 
very table, when although he had been a wild beast, he would have become 
tame.

    For this cause the evangelist also signifies, that while they are 
eating, Christ speaks of His betrayal, that both by the time and by the 
table he might show the wickedness of the traitor.

    For when the disciples had done, as Jesus had appointed them, "when the 
even was come, He sat down with the twelve.(1) And as they did eat, He 
said," we are told, "Verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray 
me."(2) And before the supper, He had even washed his feet. And see how He 
spares the traitor. For He said not, such a one shall betray me; but, "one 
of you," so as again to give him power of repentance by concealment And He 
chooseth to alarm all, for the sake of saving this man. Of you, the twelve, 
saith He, that are everywhere present with me, whose feet I washed, to whom 
I promised so many things.

    Intolerable sorrow thereupon seized that holy company. And John indeed 
saith, they "were in doubt, and looked one upon another,"(3) and each of 
them asked in fear concerning himself, although conscious to themselves of 
no such thing. But this evangelist saith, that "being exceeding sorrowful, 
they began every one of them to say unto Him, Is it I, Lord?(4) And He 
answered and said, He it is, to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped 
it."(5)

    Mark at what time He discovered him. It was when it was His will to 
deliver the rest from this trouble, for they were even dead with the fear, 
wherefore also they were instant with their questions. But not only as 
desiring to deliver them from their distress He did this, but also as 
willing to amend the traitor. For since after having often heard it 
generally, he continued incorrigible, being past feeling, He being minded 
to make him feel more, takes off his mask.

    For when being sorrowful they began to say, "Is it I, Lord? He answered 
and said, He that dippeth(6) with me in the dish, the same shall betray me. 
The Son of Man goeth, as it is written of Him, but woe to the man by(7) 
whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It had been good for that man if he had 
not been born."(8)

    Now some say that he was so bold as not to honor his Master, but to dip 
with Him: but to me Christ seems to have done this too, to shame him the 
more, and bring him over to a better disposition. For this act again has 
something more in it.

    2. But these things we ought not to pass by at random, but they should 
be infixed in our minds, and wrath would find no place at any time.

    For who, bearing in mind that supper, and the traitor sitting at meat 
with the Saviour of all, and Him who was to be betrayed thus meekly 
reasoning, would not put away all venom of wrath and anger? See at any rate 
how meekly He conducts Himself towards him, "The Son of Man goeth, as it is 
written of Him."

    And these things again He said, both to restore the disciples, that 
they might not think the thing was a sign of weakness, and to amend the 
traitor.

    "But woe unto that(9) man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! it had 
been good for that man if he had not been born." See again in His rebukes 
His unspeakable meekness. For not even here with invective, but more in the 
way of compassion, doth He apply what He saith, but in a disguised way 
again; and yet not his former senselessness only, but his subsequent 
shamelessness was deserving of the utmost indignation. For after this 
conviction he saith, "Is it I, Lord?"(10) Oh insensibility! He inquires, 
when conscious to himself of such things. For the evangelist too, 
marvelling at his boldness, saith this. What then saith the most mild and 
gentle Jesus? "Thou sayest." And yet He might have said, O thou unholy, 
thou all unholy one; accursed, and profane; so long a time in travail with 
mischief, who hast gone thy way, and made satanical compacts, and hast 
agreed to receive money, and hast been convicted by me too, dost thou yet 
dare to ask? But none of these things did He say; but how? "Thou sayest?" 
fixing for us hounds and rules of long suffering.

    But some one will say, Yet if it was written that He was to suffer 
these things, wherefore is Judas blamed, for he did the things that were 
written? But not with this intent, but from wickedness. For if thou inquire 
not concerning the motive, thou wilt deliver even the devil from the 
charges against him. But these things are not, they are not so. For both 
the one and the other are deserving of countless punishments, although the 
world was saved. For neither did the treason of Judas work out salvation 
for us, but the wisdom of Christ, and the good contrivance of His fair 
skill, using the wickednesses of others for our advantage.

    "What then," one may say, "though Judas had not betrayed Him, would not 
another have betrayed Him?" And what has this to do with the question? 
"Because if Christ must needs be crucified, it must be by the means of some 
one, and if by some one, surely by such a person as this. But if all had 
been good, the dispensation in our behalf had been impeded." Not so. For 
the All wise knows how He shall bring about our benefits, even had this 
happened. For His wisdom is rich in contrivance, and incomprehensible. So 
for this reason, that no one might suppose that Judas had become a minister 
of the dispensation, He declares the wretchedness of the man. But some one 
Will say again, "And if it had been good if he had never been born, 
wherefore did He suffer both this man, and all the wicked, to come into the 
world?" When thou oughtest to blame the wicked, for that having the power 
not to become such as they are, they have become wicked, thou leavest this, 
and busiest thyself, and art curious about the things of God; although 
knowing that it is not by necessity that any one is wicked.

    "But the good only should be born," he would say, "and there were no 
need of hell, nor punishment, nor vengeance, nor trace of vice, but the 
wicked should either not be born at all, or being born should straightway 
depart."

    First then, it were well to repeat to thee the saying of the apostle, 
"Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing 
formed say to Him that formed it, Why hast Thou made me thus?"(1)

    But if thou still demandest reasons, we would say this, that the good 
are more admired for being among the bad; because their long-suffering and 
great self-command is then most shown. But thou takest away the occasion of 
their wrestlings, and conflicts, by saying these things. "What then, in 
order that these may appear good, are others punished?" saith he. God 
forbid, but for their own wickedness. For neither because they were brought 
into the world did they become wicked, but on account of their own 
wickedness; wherefore also they are punished. For how should they fail to 
be deserving of punishment, seeing they have so many teachers of virtue, 
and gain nothing therefrom. For like as the noble and good are worthy of 
double honor, because they both became good, and took no hurt from the 
wicked; so also the worthless deserve twofold punishment, both because they 
became wicked, when they might have become good (they show it who have 
become such), and because they gained nothing from the good.

    But let us see what saith this wretched man, when convicted by his 
Master. What then saith he? "Is it I, Rabbi?"(2) And why did he not ask 
this from the beginning? He thought to escape knowledge by its being said, 
"one of you;" but when He had made him manifest, he ventured again to ask, 
confiding in the clemency of his Master, that He would not convict him.(3)

    3. O blindness! Whereunto hath it led him? Such is covetousness, it 
renders men fools and senseless, yea reckless, and dogs instead of men, or 
rather even more fierce than dogs, and devils after being dogs. This man at 
least received unto him the devil even when plotting against him, but 
Jesus, even when doing him good, he betrayed, having already become a devil 
in will, For such doth the insatiable desire of gain make men, out of their 
mind, frenzy-smitten, altogether given up to gain, as was the case even 
with Judas.

    But how do Matthew and the other evangelists say, that, when he made 
the agreement touching the treason, then the devil seized him; but John, 
that "after the sop Satan entered into him."(4) And John himself knew this, 
for further back he saith, "The devil having now put into the heart of 
Judas, that he should betray Him."(5) How then doth he say, "After the sop 
Satan entered into him?" Because he enters not in suddenly, nor at once, 
but makes much trial first, which accordingly was done here also. For after 
having tried him in the beginning, and assailed him quietly, after that he 
saw him prepared to receive him, he thenceforth wholly breathed himself 
into him, and completely got the better of him.

    But how, if they were eating the passover, did they eat it contrary to 
the law? For they should not have eaten it, sitting down to their meat.(6) 
What then can be said? That after eating it, they then sat down to the 
banquet.

    But another evangelist saith, that on that evening He not only ate the 
passover, but also said, "With desire I have desired to eat this passover 
with you,"(7) that is, on that year. For what reason? Because then the 
salvation of the world was to be brought about, and the mysteries to be 
delivered, and the subjects of sorrow to be done away with by His death; so 
welcome was the cross to Him. But nothing softened the savage monster, nor 
moved, nor shamed him. He pronounced him wretched, saying, "Woe to that 
man." He alarmed him again, saying, "It were good for him if he had not 
been born." He put him to shame, saying, "To whom I shall give a sop, when 
I have dipped it." And none of these things checked him, but he was seized 
by covetousness, as by some madness, or rather by a more grievous disease. 
For indeed this is the more grievous madness.

    For what would the madman do like this He poured not forth foam out of 
his mouth but he poured forth the murder of his Lord. He distorted not his 
hands, but stretched them out for the price of precious blood. Wherefore 
his madness was greater, because he was mad being in health.

    But he doth not utter sayest thou, sounds without meaning. And what is 
more without meaning than this language. "What will ye give me, and I will 
deliver Him unto you?"(1) "I will deliver," the devil spake by that mouth. 
But he did not smite the ground with his feet struggling? Nay, how much 
better so to struggle, than thus to stand upright. But sayest thou, he did 
not cut himself with stones? Yet how much better, than to do such things as 
these!

    Will ye, that we bring forward the possessed and the covetous, and make 
a comparison between the two. But let no one account what is done a 
reproach to himself. For we do not reproach the nature, but we lament the 
act. The possessed was never clad with garments, cutting himself with 
stones, and running, he rushes over rough paths, driven headlong of the 
devil. Do not these things seem to be dreadful? What then, if I shall show 
the covetous doing more grievous things than these to their own soul, and 
to such a degree more grievous, that these are considered child's play 
compared with those. Will you indeed shun the pest? Come then, let us see 
if they are in any respect in a more tolerable state than they. In none, 
but even in a more grievous condition; for indeed they are more objects of 
shame than ten thousand naked persons. For it were far better to be naked 
as to clothing, than being clad with the fruits of covetousness, to go 
about like them that celebrate the orgies for Bacchus. For like as they 
have on madmen's masks and clothes, so have these also. And much as the 
nakedness of the possessed is caused by madness, so doth madness produce 
this clothing, and the clothing is more miserable than the nakedness.

     And this I will hereby endeavor to prove. For whom should we say was 
more mad, amongst madmen themselves; one who should cut himself, or one who 
together with himself should hurt those who met him? It is quite clear that 
it is this last. The madmen then strip themselves of their clothing, but 
these all that meet them. "But these tear their clothes to pieces." And how 
readily would every one of those that are injured consent that his garment 
should be torn, rather than be stripped of all his substance?

    "But those do not aim blows at the face." In the first place, the 
covetous do even this, and if not all, yet do all inflict by famine and 
penury more grievous pains on the belly.

    "But those bite not with the teeth." Would that it were with teeth, and 
not with the darts of covetousness fiercer than teeth. "For their teeth are 
weapons and darts."(2) For who will feel most pained, he that was bitten 
once, and straightway healed, or he that is for ever eaten up by the teeth 
of penury? For penury when involuntary is more grievous than furnace or 
wild beast.

    "But those rush not into the deserts like the possessed of devils." 
Would it were the deserts, and not the cities, that they overran, and so 
all in the cities enjoyed security. For now in this respect again, they are 
more intolerable than all the insane, because they do in the cities these 
things which the others do in the deserts, making the cities deserts, and 
like as in a desert, where there is none to hinder, so plundering the goods 
of all men.

    "But they do not pelt with stones them that meet them." And what is 
this? Of stones it were easy to beware; but of the wounds which by paper 
and ink they work to the wretched poor (framing writings full of blows 
without number), who, out of those that fall in with them, can ever easily 
beware?

    4. And let us see also what they do to themselves. They walk naked up 
and down the city, for they have no garment of virtue. But if this doth not 
seem to them to be a disgrace, this again is of their exceeding madness, 
for that they have no feeling of the unseemliness, but while they are 
ashamed of having their body naked, they bear about the soul naked, and 
glory in it. And if you wish, I will tell you also the cause of their 
insensibility. What then is the cause? They are naked amongst many that are 
thus naked, wherefore neither are they ashamed, like as neither are we in 
the baths. So that if indeed there were many clothed with virtue, then 
would their shame appear more. But now this above all is a worthy subject 
for many tears, that because the bad are many, bad things are not even 
esteemed as a disgrace. For besides the rest, the devil hath brought about 
this too, not to allow them to obtain even a sense of their evil deeds, but 
by the multitude of them that practise wickedness, to throw a shade over 
their disgrace; since if it came to pass that he was in the midst of a 
multitude of persons practising self-restraint, such a one would see his 
nakedness more.

    That they are more naked than the possessed is evident from these 
things; and that they go into the deserts, neither this again could any one 
gainsay. For the wide and broad way is more desert than any desert. For 
though it have many that journey on yet none from amongst men, but 
serpents, scorpions, wolves, adders, and asps. Such are they that practise 
wickedness. And this way is not only desert, but much more rugged than that 
of the mad. And this is hereby evident. For stones and ravines and crags do 
not so wound those that mount them, as robbery and covetousness the souls 
that practise them.

    And that they live by the tombs, like the possessed, or rather that 
they themselves are tombs, is plain by this. What is a tomb? A stone having 
a dead body lying in it. Wherein then do these men's bodies differ from 
those stones? or rather, they are more miserable even than they. For it is 
not a stone containing a dead body, but a body more insensible than stones, 
bearing about a dead soul. Wherefore one would not be wrong in calling them 
tombs. For so did our Lord too call the Jews, for this reason most 
especially; He went on at least to say, "Their inward parts are full of 
ravening and covetousness."(1)

    Would ye that I show next, how they also cut their heads with stones? 
Whence then first, I pray thee, wilt thou learn this? From the things here, 
or from the things to come? But of the things to come they have not much 
regard; we must speak then of the things here. For are not anxieties more 
grievous than many stones, not wounding heads, but consuming a soul. For 
they are afraid, test those things should justly go forth out of their 
house, which have come unto them unjustly; they tremble in fear of the 
utmost ills, are angry, are provoked, against those of their own house, 
against strangers; and now despondency, now fear, now wrath, comes upon 
them in succession, and they are as if they were crossing precipice after 
precipice, and they are earnestly looking day by day for what they have not 
yet acquired. Wherefore neither do they feel pleasure in the things they 
have, both by reason of not feeling confidence about the security of them, 
and because with their whole mind they are intent upon what they have not 
yet seized. And like as one continually thirsting, though he should drink 
up ten thousand fountains, feeleth not the pleasure, because he is not 
satisfied; so also these, so far from feeling pleasure, are even tormented, 
the more they heap around themselves; from their not feeling any limit to 
such desire.

    And things here are like this; but let us speak also of the day to 
come. For though they give not heed, yet it is necessary for us to speak. 
In the day to come then, one will see everywhere such men as these 
undergoing punishment. For when He saith, "I was an hungered, and ye gave 
me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink;"(2) He is punishing 
these; and when He saith, "Depart into the eternal fire prepared for the 
devil," He is sending thither them that make a bad use of riches. And the 
wicked servant, who gives not to his fellow-servants the goods of his Lord, 
is of the number of these men, and he that buried his talent, and the five 
virgins.

    And whithersoever thou shalt go, thou wilt see the covetous punished. 
And now they will hear, "There is a void between us and you;"(3) now, 
"Depart from me into the fire that is prepared."(4) And now being cut 
asunder, they will go away, where there is gnashing of teeth, and from 
every place one may see them driven, and finding a place nowhere, but 
gathered in hell alone.

    5. What then is the use of the right faith to us for salvation, when we 
hear these things? There, gnashing of teeth, and outer darkness, and the 
fire prepared for the devil, and to be cut asunder, and to be driven away; 
here, enmities, evil speakings, slanders, perils, cares, plots, to be hated 
of all, to be abhorred of all, even of the very persons that seem to 
flatter us. For as good men are admired not by the good only but even by 
the wicked; so bad men, not the good only, but also the worthless, hate. 
And in proof that this is true, I would gladly ask of the covetous, whether 
they do not feel painfully one toward another; and account such more their 
enemies than those that have done them the greatest wrong; whether they do 
not also accuse themselves, whether they do not account the thing an 
affront, if any one brings this reproach upon them. For indeed this is an 
extreme reproach, and a sure proof of much wickedness; for if thou dost not 
endure to despise wealth, of what wilt thou ever get the better? of lust, 
or of the mad desire of glory, or anger, or of wrath? And how would any be 
persuaded of it? For as to lust, and anger, and wrath, many impute it even 
to the temperament of the flesh, and to this do students of medicine refer 
the excesses thereof; and him that is of a more hot and languid 
temperament, they affirm to be more lustful; but him that runs out into a 
drier kind of ill temperament, eager, and irritable, and wrathful. But with 
respect to covetousness, no one ever heard of their having said any such 
thing. So entirely is the pest the effect of mere remissness, and of a soul 
past feeling.

    Therefore, I beseech you, let us give diligence to amend all such 
things, and to give an opposite direction to the passions that come upon us 
in every age. But if in every part of our life we sail past the labors of 
virtue, everywhere undergoing shipwrecks; when we have arrived at the 
harbor destitute of spiritual freight, we shall undergo extreme punishment. 
For our present life is an out stretched ocean. And as in the sea here, 
there are different bays exposed to different tempests, and the Ęgean is 
difficult because of the winds, the Tyrrhenian strait because of the 
confined space, the Charybdis that is by Africa because of the shallows, 
the Propontis, which is without the Euxine sea, on account of its violence 
and currents, the parts without Cadiz because of the desolation, and 
tracklessness, and unexplored places therein, and other portions for other 
causes; so also is it in our life.

    And the first sea to view is that of our childish days, having much 
tempestuousness, because of its folly, its facility, because it is not 
steadfast. Therefore also we set over it guides and teachers, by our 
diligence adding what is wanting to nature, even as there by the pilot's 
skill.

    After this age succeeds the sea of the youth, where the winds are 
violent as in the Ęgean, lust increasing upon us. And this age especially 
is destitute of correction; not only because he is beset more fiercely, but 
also because his faults are not reproved, for both teacher and guide after 
that withdraw. When therefore the winds blow more fiercely, and the pilot 
is more feeble, and there is no helper, consider the greatness of the 
tempest.

    After this there is again another period of life, that of men, in which 
the cares of the household press upon us, when there is a wife, and 
marriage, and begetting of children, and ruling of a house, and thick 
falling showers of cares. Then especially both covetousness flourishes and 
envy.

    When then we pass each part of our life with shipwrecks, how shall we 
suffice for the present life? how shall we escape future punishment. For 
when first in the earliest age we learn nothing healthful, and then in 
youth we do not practise sobriety, and when grown to manhood do not get the 
better of covetousness, coming to old age as to a hold full of bilgewater, 
and as having made the barque of the soul weak by all these shocks, the 
planks being separated, we shall arrive at that harbor, bearing much filth 
instead of spiritual merchandise, and to the devil we shall furnish 
laughter, but lamentation to ourselves, and bring upon ourselves the 
intolerable punishments.

    That these things may not be, let us brace ourselves up on every side, 
and, withstanding all our passions, let us east out the lust of wealth, 
that we may also attain unto the good things to come, by the grace and love 
towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. 
Amen.


HOMILY LXXXII: MATT. XXVI. 26-28.

"And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, 
and gave(1) it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; This is my body." 
"And He took a cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye 
all of it; This is my blood of the New Testament, Which is shed for many, 
for the remission of sins."(2)

    Ah! how great is the blindness of the traitor! Even partaking of the 
mysteries, he remained the same; and admitted to the most holy(3) table, he 
changed not. And this Luke shows by saying, that after this Satan 
entered(4) into him, not as despising the Lord's body, but thenceforth 
laughing to scorn the traitor's shamelessness. For indeed his sin became 
greater from both causes, as well in that he came to the mysteries with 
such a disposition, as that having approached them, he did not become 
better, either from fear, or from the benefit, or from the honor. But 
Christ forbad him not, although He knew all things, that thou mightest 
learn that He omits none of the things that pertain to correction. 
Wherefore both before this, and after this, He continually admonished him, 
and checked him, both by deeds, and by words; both by fear, and by 
kindness; both by threatening, and by honor. But none of these things 
withdrew him from that grievous pest.

    Wherefore thenceforth He leaves him, and by the mysteries again reminds 
the disciples of His being slain, and in the midst of the meal His 
discourse is of the cross, by the continual repeating of the prediction, 
making His passion easy to receive. For if, when so many things had been 
done and foretold, they were troubled; if they had heard none of these 
things, what would they not have felt?

    "And as they were eating, He took bread, and brake it." Why can it have 
been that He ordained this sacrament then, at the time of the passover? 
That thou mightest learn from everything, both that He is the lawgiver of 
the Old Testament, and that the things therein are foreshadowed because of 
these things. Therefore, I say, where the type is, there He puts the truth.

    But the evening is a sure sign of the fullness of times, and that the 
things were now come to the very end.

    And He gives thanks, to teach us how we ought to celebrate this 
sacrament, and to show that not unwillingly doth He come to the passion, 
and to teach us whatever we may suffer to bear it thankfully, thence also 
suggesting good hopes. For if the type was a deliverance from such bondage, 
how much more will the truth set free the world, and will He be delivered 
up for the benefit of our race. Wherefore, I would add, neither did He 
appoint the sacrament before this, but when henceforth the rites of the law 
were to cease. And thus the very chief of the feasts He brings to an end, 
removing them to another most awful table, and He saith, "Take, eat, This 
is my body, Which is broken for many."

    And how were they not confounded at hearing this? Because He had before 
told unto them many and great things touching this. Wherefore that He 
establishes no more, for they had heard it sufficiently, but he speaks of 
the cause of His passion, namely, the taking away of sins. And He calls it 
blood of a New Testament, that of the undertaking, the promise, the new 
law. For this He undertook also of old, and this comprises the Testament 
that is in the new law. And like as the Old Testament had sheep and 
bullocks, so this has the Lord's blood. Hence also He shows that He is soon 
to die, wherefore also He made mention of a Testament, and He reminds them 
also of the former Testament, for that also was dedicated with blood. And 
again He tells the cause of His death, "which is shed for many for the 
remission of sins;" and He saith, "Do this in remembrance of me." Seest 
thou how He removes and draws them off from Jewish customs. For like as ye 
did that, He saith, in remembrance of the miracles in Egypt, so do this 
likewise in remembrance of me. That was shed for the preservation of the 
firstborn, this for the remission of the sins of the whole world. For, 
"This," saith He, "is my blood, which is shed for the remission of sins."

    But this He said, indicating thereby, that His passion and His cross 
are a mystery, by this too again comforting His disciples. And like as 
Moses saith, "This shall be to you for an everlasting memorial,"(1) so He 
too, "in remembrance of me," until I come.(2) Therefore also He saith, 
"With desire I have desired to eat this passover,"(3) that is, to deliver 
you the new rites, and to give a passover, by which I am to make you 
spiritual.

    And He Himself drank of it. For lest on hearing this, they should say, 
What then? do we drink blood, and eat flesh? and then be perplexed (for 
when He began to discourse concerning these things, even at the very 
sayings many were offended),(4) therefore lest they should be troubled then 
likewise, He first did this Himself, leading them to the calm participation 
of the mysteries. Therefore He Himself drank His own blood. What then must 
we observe that other ancient rite also? some one may say. By no means. For 
on this account He said, "Do this," that He might withdraw them from the 
other. For if this worketh remission of sins, as it surely doth work it, 
the other is now superfluous.

    As then in the case of the Jews, so here also He hath bound up the 
memorial of the benefit with the mystery, by this again stopping the mouths 
of heretics. For when they say, Whence is it manifest that Christ was 
sacrificed? together with the other arguments we stop their mouths from the 
mysteries also. For if Jesus did not die, of what are the rites the 
symbols?

    2. Seest thou how much diligence hath been used, that it should be ever 
borne in mind that He died for us? For since the Marcionists, and 
Valentinians, and Manichaeans were to arise, denying this dispensation, He 
continually reminds us of the passion even by the mysteries, (so that no 
man should be deceived); at once saving, and at the same time teaching by 
means of that sacred table. For this is the chief of the blessings; 
wherefore Paul also is in every way pressing this.

    Then, when He had delivered it, He saith, "I will not drink of the 
fruit of this wine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my 
Father's kingdom."(5) For because He had discoursed with them concerning 
passion and cross, He again introduces what He has to say of His 
resurrection, having made mention of a kingdom before them,(6) and so 
calling His own resurrection.

    And wherefore did He drink after He was risen again? Lest the grosser 
sort might suppose the resurrection was an appearance. For the common sort 
made this an infallible test of His having risen again. Wherefore also the 
apostles also persuading them concerning the resurrection say this, "We who 
did eat and drink with Him."(7)

    To show therefore that they should see Him manifestly risen, again, and 
that He should be with them once more, and that they themselves shall be 
witnesses to the things that are done, both by sight, and by act, He saith, 
"Until I drink it new with you," you bearing witness. For you shall see me 
risen again.

    But what is "new." In a new, that is, a strange manner, not having a 
passible body, but now immortal and incorruptible, and not needing food.

    It was not then for want that He both ate and drank after the 
resurrection, for neither did His body need these things any more, but for 
the full assurance of His resurrection.

    And wherefore did He not drink water after He was risen again, but 
wine. To pluck up by the roots another wicked heresy. For since there are 
certain who use water in the mysteries; to show that both when He delivered 
the mysteries He had given wine, and that when He had risen and was setting 
before them a mere meal without mysteries, He used wine, "of the fruit," He 
saith, "of the vine." But a vine produces wine, not water.

    "And when they had sung an hymn, they went out unto the Mount of 
Olives."(8) Let them hear this, as many as, like swine eating at random, 
rudely spurn the natural(9) table, and rise up in drunkenness, whereas it 
were meet to give thanks, and end with an hymn

    Hear this, as many as wait not again for the last prayer of the 
mysteries, for this is a symbol of that. He gave thanks before He gave it 
to His disciples, that we also may give thanks. He gave thanks, and sang an 
hymn after the giving, that we also may do this selfsame thing.

    But for what reason doth He go forth unto the mountain? Making Himself 
manifest, that He may be taken, in order not to seem to hide himself. For 
He hastened to go to the place which was also known to Judas.

    Then "He saith unto them, All ye shall be offended in me."(1) After 
this He mentions also a prophecy, "For it is written, I will smite the 
shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered abroad:"(2) at once persuading 
them ever to give heed to the things that are written, and at same time 
making it plain that He was crucified, according to God's purpose; and by 
everything showing He was no alien from the old covenant, nor from the God 
preached therein, but that what is done is a dispensation,(3) and that the 
prophets all proclaimed all things beforehand from the beginning that are 
comprised in the matter, so that they be quite confident about the better 
things also.

    And He teaches us to know what the disciples were before the 
crucifixion, what after the crucifixion. For indeed they who, when He was 
crucified, were not able so much as to stand their ground, these after His 
death were mighty, and stronger than adamant.

    And this self-same thing is a demonstration of His death, the fright 
and cowardice, I mean, of His disciples. For if when so many things have 
been both done and said, still some are shameless, and say that He was not 
crucified; if none of these things had come to pass, to what pitch of 
wickedness would they not have proceeded? So for this reason, not by His 
own sufferings only, but by what took place with respect to the disciples, 
He confirms the word concerning His death, and by the mysteries also, in 
every way confounding those that are diseased with the pest of Marcion. For 
this reason He suffers even the chief apostle to deny Him. But if He was 
not bound nor crucified, whence sprung the fear to Peter, and to the rest 
of the apostles.

    He suffers them not however, on the other hand, to wait until the 
sorrows, but what saith He? "But after I am risen again, I will go before 
you into Galilee."(4) For not from Heaven doth He appear at once, neither 
will He depart into any distant country, but in the same nation, in which 
He had also been crucified, nearly in the same place, so as hereby again to 
assure them that He that was crucified was the very same that rose again, 
and in this way to comfort them more abundantly when in sorrow. Therefore 
also He said "in Galilee," that being freed from the fears of the Jews they 
might believe His saying. For which cause indeed He appeared there.

    "But Peter answered and said, Though all men should be offended because 
of Thee, yet will I never be offended."(5)

    3. What sayest thou, O Peter? the prophet said, "The sheep shall be 
scattered;" Christ hath confirmed the saying, and sayest thou, No? Is not 
what passed before enough, when Thou saidst, "Far be it from Thee,"(6) and 
thy mouth was stopped? For this then He suffers him to fall, teaching him 
thereby to believe Christ in all things, and to account His declaration 
more trustworthy than one's own conscience. And the rest too reaped no 
small benefit from his denial, having come to know manes weakness, and 
God's truth. For when He foretells anything, we must no longer be subtle, 
nor lift up ourselves above the common sort. For, "thy rejoicing," it is 
said, "thou shall have in thyself, and not in another."(7) For where he 
should have prayed, and have said, Help us, that we be not cut off, he is 
confident in himself, and saith, "Though all men should be offended in 
Thee, yet will I never;" though all should undergo this, I shall not 
undergo it, which led him on by little and little to self-confidence. 
Christ then, out of a desire to put down this, permitted his denial. For 
since he neither submitted to Him nor the prophet (and yet for this intent 
He brought in the prophet be sides, that they may not gainsay), but 
nevertheless since he submitted not to His words, he is instructed by 
deeds.

    For in proof that for this intent He permitted it, that He might amend 
this in him, hear what He saith, "I have prayed for thee, that thy faith 
fail not."(8) For this He said sharply reproving him, and showing that his 
fall was more grievous than the rest, and needed more help. For the matters 
of blame were two; both that he gainsaid; and, that he set himself before 
the other; or rather a third too, namely, that he attributed all to 
himself.

    To cure these things then, He suffered the fall to take place, and for 
this cause also leaves the others, and addresses Himself earnestly to him. 
For, "Simon,"(1) saith He, "Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you 
that he may sift you as wheat;" that is, that he may trouble, confound, 
tempt you; but "I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not."

    And why, if Satan desired all, did He not say concerning all, I have 
prayed for you? Is it not quite plain that it is this, which I have 
mentioned before, that it is as reproving him, and showing that his fall 
was more grievous than the rest, that He directs His words to him?

    And wherefore said He not, But I did not suffer it, rather than, "I 
have prayed?" He speaks from this time lowly things, on His way to His 
passion, that He may show His humanity. For He that has built His church 
upon Peter's confession, and has so fortified it, that ten thousand dangers 
and deaths are not to prevail over it; He that hath given him the keys of 
Heaven, and hath put him in possession of so much authority, and in no 
manner needed a prayer for these ends (for neither did He say, I have 
prayed, but with His own authority, "I will build my church, and I will 
give thee the keys of Heaven"), how should He need to pray, that He might 
brace up the shaken soul of a single man? Wherefore then did He speak in 
this way? For the cause which I mentioned, and because of their weakness, 
for they had not as yet the becoming view of Him.

    How then was it that He denied? he said not, that thou mayest not deny, 
but that thy faith fail not, that thou perish not utterly. For this came 
from His care.

    For indeed fear had driven out all else, for it was beyond measure, and 
it became beyond measure, since God had to an exceeding degree deprived him 
of His help, and He did exceedingly deprive him thereof, because there was 
to an exceeding degree in him the passion of self-will and contradiction. 
In order then that He might pluck it up by the roots, therefore He suffered 
the terror to overtake him.

    For in proof that this passion was grievous in him, he was not content 
with his former words, gainsaying both prophet and Christ, but also after 
these things when Christ had said unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, that 
this night,(2) before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice," he 
replieth, "Though I should die with Thee, I will not deny Thee in any 
wise."(3) And Luke signifies moreover, that the more Christ warned him, so 
much the more did Peter exceedingly oppose Him.

    What mean these things, O Peter? When He was saying, "One of you shall 
betray me," thou didst fear lest thou shouldest be the traitor, and didst 
constrain the disciple to ask, although conscious to thyself of no such 
thing; but now, when He is plainly crying out, and saying, "All shall be 
offended," art thou gainsaying it, and not once only, but twice and often? 
For this is what Luke saith.

    Whence then did this come to him? From much love, from much pleasure. I 
mean, that after that he was delivered from that distressing fear about the 
betrayal, and knew the traitor, he then spoke confidently, and lifted 
himself up over the rest, saying, "Though all men shall be offended, yet 
will I not be offended."(4) And in some degree too his conduct sprung from 
jealousy, for at supper they reasoned "which of them is the greater,"(5) to 
such a degree did this passion trouble them. Therefore He checked him, not 
compelling him to the denial, God forbid! but leaving him destitute of His 
help, and convicting human nature.

    See at any rate after these things how he was subdued. For after the 
resurrection, when he had said, "And what shall this man do?"(6) and was 
silenced, he ventured no more to gainsay as here, but held his peace. 
Again, towards the assumption,(7) when he heard, "It is not for you to know 
times or seasons,"(8) again he holds his peace, and contradicts not. After 
these things, on the house, and by the sheet, when he heard a voice saying 
to him, "What God hath cleansed, call not thou common,"(9) even though he 
knew not for the time what the saying could be, he is quiet, and strives 
not.

    4. All these things did that fall effect, and whereas before that he 
attributes all to himself, saying, "Though all men shall be offended, yet 
will I not be offended;" and, "If I should die, I will not deny Thee" when 
he should have said, If I receive the assistance from Thee);--yet after 
these things altogether the contrary, "Why do ye give heed to us, as though 
by our own power or holiness we had made him to walk?(10)

    Hence we learn a great doctrine, that a man's willingness is not 
sufficient, unless any one receive the succor from above; and that again we 
shall gain nothing by the succor from above, if there be not a willingness. 
And both these things do Judas and Peter show; for the one, though he had 
received much help, was profited nothing, because he was not willing, 
neither contributed his part; but this one, though he was ready in mind, 
because he received no assistance, fell. For indeed of these two things is 
virtue's web woven.

    Wherefore I entreat you neither when you have cast all upon God) to 
sleep yourselves, nor, when laboring earnestly, to think to accomplish all 
by your own toils. For neither is it God's will that we should be supine 
ourselves, therefore He worketh it not all Himself; nor yet boasters, 
therefore He did not give all to us; but having removed what was hurtful in 
either way, left that which is useful for us. Therefore He suffered even 
the chief apostle to fall, both rendering him more humbled in mind, and 
training him thenceforth to greater love. "For to whom more is forgiven," 
it is said, "he loveth more."(1)

    Let us then in everything believe God, and gainsay Him in nothing, 
though what is said seem to be contrary to our thoughts and senses, but let 
His word be of higher authority than both reasonings and sight. Thus let us 
do in the mysteries also, not looking at the things set before us, but 
keeping in mind His sayings.

    For His word cannot deceive, but our senses are easily beguiled. That 
hath never failed, but this in most things goeth wrong. Since then the word 
saith, "This is my body," let us both be persuaded and believe, and look at 
it with the eyes of the mind.

    For Christ hath given nothing sensible, but though in things sensible 
yet all to be perceived by the mind. So also in baptism, the gift is 
bestowed by a sensible thing, that is, by water; but that which is done is 
perceived by the mind, the birth, I mean, and the renewal. For if thou 
hadst been incorporeal, He would have delivered thee the incorporeal gifts 
bare; but because the soul hath been locked up in a body, He delivers thee 
the things that the mind perceives, in things sensible.

    How many now say, I would wish to see His form, the mark, His clothes, 
His shoes. Lo! thou seest Him, Thou touchest Him, thou eatest Him. And thou 
indeed desirest to see His clothes, but He giveth Himself to thee not to 
see only, but also to touch and eat and receive within thee.

    Let then no one approach it with indifference, no one faint-hearted, 
but all with burning hearts, all fervent, all aroused. For if Jews 
standing, and having on their shoes and their staves in their hands, ate 
with haste, much more oughtest thou to be watchful. For they indeed were to 
go forth to Palestine, wherefore also they had the garb of pilgrims, but 
thou art about to remove unto Heaven.

    5. Wherefore it is needful in all respects to be vigilant, for indeed 
no small punishment is appointed to them that partake unworthily.

    Consider how indignant thou art against the traitor, against them that 
crucified Him. Look therefore, lest thou also thyself become guilty of the 
body and blood of Christ. They slaughtered the all-holy body, but thou 
receivest it in a filthy soul after such great benefits. For neither was it 
enough for Him to be made man, to be smitten and slaughtered, but He also 
commingleth Himself with us, and not by faith only, but also in very deed 
maketh us His body. What then ought not he to exceed in purity that hath 
the benefit of this sacrifice, than what sunbeam should not that hand be 
more pure which is to sever this flesh, the mouth that is filled with 
spiritual fire, the tongue that is reddened by that most awful blood? 
Consider with what sort of honor thou wast honored, of what sort of table 
thou art partaking. That which when angels behold, they tremble, and dare 
not so much as look up at it without awe on account of the brightness that 
cometh thence, with this we are fed with this we are commingled, and we are 
made one body and one flesh with Christ. "Who shall declare the mighty 
works of the Lord, and cause all His praises to be heard?"(2) What shepherd 
feeds his sheep with his own limbs? And why do I say, shepherd? There are 
often mothers that after the travail of birth send out their children to 
other women as nurses; but He endureth not to do this, but Himself feeds us 
with His own blood, and by all means entwines us with Himself.

    Mark it, He was born of our substance. But, you say, this is nothing to 
all men; though it does concern all. For if He came unto our nature, it is 
quite plain that it was to all; but if to all, then to each one. And how 
was it, you say, that all did not reap the profit therefrom. This was not 
of His doing, whose choice it was to do this in behalf of all, but the 
fault of them that were not willing. With each one of the faithful doth He 
mingle Himself in the mysteries, and whom He begat, He nourishes by 
Himself, and putteth not out to another; by this also persuading thee 
again, that He had taken thy flesh. Let us not then be remiss, having been 
counted worthy of so much both of love and honor. See ye not the infants 
with how much eagerness they lay hold of the breast? with what earnest 
desire they fix their lips upon the nipple? With the like let us also 
approach this table, and the nipple of the spiritual cup. Or rather, with 
much more eagerness let us, as infants at the breast, draw out the grace of 
the spirit, let it be our one sorrow, not to partake of this food. The 
works set before us are not of man's power. He that then did these things 
at that supper, this same now also works them. We occupy the place of 
servants. He who sanctifieth and changeth them is the same. Let then no 
Judas be present, no covetous man. If any one be not a disciple, let him 
withdraw, the table receives not such. For "I keep the passover," He saith, 
"with my disciples."(1)

    This table is the same as that, and hath nothing less. For it is not so 
that Christ wrought that, and man this, but He doth this too. This is that 
upper chamber, where they were then; and hence they went forth unto the 
mount of Olives.

    Let us also go out unto the hands of the poor, for this spot is the 
mount of Olives. For the multitude of the poor are olive-trees planted in 
the house of God, dropping the oil, which is profitable for us there, which 
the five virgins had, and the others that had not received perished 
thereby. Having received this, let us enter in that with bright lamps we 
may meet the bridegroom; having received this, let us go forth hence.

    Let no inhuman person be present, no one that is cruel and merciless, 
no one at all that is unclean.

    6. These things I say to you that receive, and to you that minister. 
For it is necessary to address myself to you also, that you may with much 
care distribute the gifts there. There is no small punishment for you, if 
being conscious of any wickedness in any man, you allow him to partake of 
this table. "His blood shall be required at your hands."(2) Though any one 
be a general, though a deputy, though it be he himself who is invested with 
the diadem, and come unworthily, forbid him, the authority thou hast is 
greater than his. Thou, if thou weft entrusted to keep a spring of water 
clean for a flock, and then wert to see a sheep having much mire on its 
mouth, thou wouldest not suffer it to stoop down unto it and foul the 
stream: but now being entrusted with a spring not of water, but of blood 
and of spirit, if thou seest any having on them sin, which is more grievous 
than earth and mire, coming unto it, art thou not displeased? dost thou not 
drive them off? and what excuse canst thou have?

    For this end God hath honored you with this honor, that ye should 
discern these things. This is your office, this your safety, this your 
whole crown, not that ye should go about clothed in a white and shining 
vestment.

    And whence know I, you may say, this person, and that person? I speak 
not of the unknown, but of the notorious.

    Shall I say something more fearful. It is not so grievous a thing for 
the energumens(3) to be within, as for such as these, whom Paul affirms to 
trample Christ under foot, and to "account the blood of the covenant 
unclean. and to do despite to the grace of the Spirit."(4) For he that hath 
fallen into sin and draws nigh, is worse than one possessed with a devil. 
For they, because they are possessed are not punished, but those, when they 
draw nigh unworthily, are delivered over to undying punishment. Let us not 
therefore drive away these only, but all without exception, whomsoever we 
may see coming unworthily.

    Let no one communicate who is not of the disciples. Let no Judas 
receive, lest he suffer the fate of Judas. This multitude also is Christ's 
body. Take heed, therefore, thou that ministerest at the mysteries, lest 
thou provoke the Lord, not purging this body. Give not a sword instead of 
meat.

    Nay, though it be from ignorance that he come to communicate, forbid 
him, be not afraid. Fear God, not man. If thou shouldest fear man, thou 
wilt be laughed to scorn even by him, but if God, thou wilt be an object of 
respect even to men.

    But if thou darest not to do it thyself, bring him to me; I will not 
allow any to dare do these things. I would give up my life rather than 
impart of the Lord's blood to the unworthy; and will shed my own blood 
rather than impart of such awful blood contrary to. what is meet.

    But if any hath not known the bad man, after much inquiry, it is no 
blame. For these things have been said about the open sinners. For if we 
amend these, God will speedily discover to us the unknown also; but if we 
let these alone, wherefore should He then make manifest those that are 
hidden. But these things I say, not that we repel them only, nor cut them 
off, but in order that we may amend them, and bring them back, that we may 
take care of them. For thus shall we both have God propitious, and shall 
find many to receive worthily; and for our own diligence, and for our care 
for others, receive great reward; unto which God grant we may all attain by 
the grace and love towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory 
world without end. Amen.


HOMILY LXXXIII: MATT. XXVI. 36-38.

"Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto 
the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. And He took with 
Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very 
heavy: and He saith unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto 
death; tarry ye here, and watch with me. "(1)

    BECAUSE they clung to Him inseparably, therefore He saith, "Tarry ye 
here, while I go away and pray." For it was usual with Him to pray apart 
from them. And this He did teaching us in our prayers, to prepare silence 
for ourselves and great retirement.

    And He takes with Him the three, and saith unto them, "my soul is 
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." Wherefore doth He not take all with 
Him? That they might not be cast down; but these He taketh that had been 
spectators of His glory. However, even these He dismisses: "And He went on 
a little farther, and prayeth, saying, Father, if it be possible, let this 
cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt. And He 
cometh unto them, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, What, 
could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."(2)

    Not without reason doth He inveigh against Peter most, although the 
others also had slept; but to make him feel by this also, for the cause 
which I mentioned before. Then because the others also said the same thing 
(for when Peter had said (these are the words), "Though I must die with 
Thee, I will not deny Thee; likewise also," it is added, "said all the 
disciples");(3) He addresses Himself to all, convicting their weakness. For 
they who are desiring to die with Him, were not then able so much as to 
sorrow with Him wake-fully, but sleep overcame them.

    And He prays with earnestness, in order that the thing might not seem 
to be acting. And sweats flow over him for the same cause again, even that 
the heretics might not say this, that He acts the agony. Therefore there is 
a sweat like drops of blood, and an angel appeared strengthening Him, and a 
thousand sure signs of fear, lest any one should affirm the words to be 
reigned. For this cause also was this prayer. By saying then, "If it be 
possible, let it pass from me," He showed His humanity; but by saying, 
"Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt," He showed His virtue and 
self-command, teaching us even when nature pulls us back, to follow God. 
For since it was not enough for the foolish to show His face only, He uses 
words also. Again, words sufficed not alone, but deeds likewise were 
needed; these also He joins with the words, that even they who are in a 
high degree contentious may believe, that He both became man and died. For 
if, even when these things are so, this be still disbelieved by some, much 
more, if these had not been. See by how many things He shows the reality of 
the incarnation: by what He speaks, by what He suffers. After that He 
cometh and saith to Peter, as it is said, "What, couldest thou not watch 
one hour with me?"(4) All were sleeping, and He rebukes Peter, hinting at 
him, in what He spake. And the words, "with me," are not employed without 
reason; it is as though He had said, Thou couldest not watch with me one 
hour, and wilt thou lay down thy life for me? and what follows also, 
intimates this self-same thing. For "Watch," saith He, "and pray not to 
enter into temptation." See how He is again instructing them not to be 
self-confident, but contrite in mind, and to be humble, and to refer all to 
God.

    And at one time He addresses Himself to Peter, at another to all in 
common. And to him He saith, "Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you, 
that he may sift you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee;" and to all in 
common, "Pray that ye enter not into temptation;" every way plucking up 
their self-will, and making them earnest-minded. Then, that He might not 
seem to make His language altogether condemnatory, He saith, "The spirit 
indeed is ready, but the flesh is weak." For even although thou dost desire 
to despise death, yet thou wilt not be able, until God stretch forth His 
hand, for the carnal mind draws down.

    And again He prayed in the same way, saying, "Father, if this cannot 
pass from me except I drink it, Thy will be done,"(1) showing here, that He 
fully harmonizes with God's will, and that we must always follow this, and 
seek after it.

    "And He came and found them asleep."(2) For besides that it was late at 
night, their eyes also were weighed down by their despondency. And the 
third time He went and spake the same thing, establishing the fact, that He 
was become man. For the second and third time is in the Scriptures 
especially indicative of truth; like as Joseph also said to Pharaoh, "Did 
the dream appear to thee the second time? For truth was this done, and that 
thou mightest be assured that this shall surely be."(3) Therefore He too 
once, and twice, and three times spake the same thing, for the sake of 
proving the incarnation.(4)

    And wherefore came He the second time? In order to reprove them, for 
that they were so drowned in despondency, as not to have any sense even of 
His presence. He did not however reprove them, but stood apart from them a 
little, showing their unspeakable weakness, that not even when they had 
been rebuked, were they able to endure. But He doth not awake and rebuke 
them again, lest He should smite them that were already smitten, but He 
went away and prayed, and when He is come back again, He saith, "Sleep on 
now, and take your rest." And yet then there was need to be wakeful, but to 
show that they will not bear so much as the sight of the dangers, but will 
be put to flight and desert Him from their terror, and that He hath no need 
of their succor, and that He must by all means be delivered up, "Sleep on 
now," He saith, "and take your rest; behold the hour is at hand, and the 
Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners."(5)

    He shows again that what is done belongs to a divine dispensation.

    2. But He doth not this only, but also, by saying, "into the hands of 
sinners," He cheers up their minds, showing it was the effect of their 
wickedness, not of His being liable to any charge.

    "Rise, let us be going; behold, he is at hand that doth betray me."(6) 
For by all means He taught them, that the matter was not of necessity, nor 
of weakness, but of some secret dispensation. For, as we see, He fore-knew 
that Judas would come, and so far from flying, He even went to meet him. At 
any rate, "While He yet spake, lo, Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with 
him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and 
elders of the people."(7) Seemly surely are the instruments of the priests! 
"with swords and staves" do they come against Him! And Judas, it is said, 
with them, one of the twelve. Again he calleth him "of the twelve," and is 
not ashamed. Now he that betrayed Him gave them a sign, saying, "Whomsoever 
I shall kiss, that same is He, hold Him fast."(8) Oh! what depravity had 
the traitor's soul received. For with what kind of eyes did he then look at 
his Master? with what mouth did he kiss Him? Oh! accursed purpose; what did 
he devise? What did he dare? What sort of sign of betrayal did he give? 
Whomsoever I shall kiss, he saith. He was emboldened by his Master's 
gentleness, which more than all was sufficient to shame him, and to deprive 
him of all excuse for that he was betraying one so meek.

    But wherefore doth He say this? Because often when seized by them He 
had gone out through the midst, without their knowing it. Nevertheless, 
then also this would have been done, if it had not been His own will that 
He should be taken. It was at least with a view to teach them this, that He 
then blinded their eyes, and Himself asked, "Whom seek ye?"(9) And they 
knew Him not, though being with lanterns and torches, and having Judas with 
them. Afterwards, as they had said, "Jesus;" He saith, "I am He" whom ye 
seek: and here again, "Friend, wherefore art thou come?"(1)

    For after having shown His own strength, then at once He yielded 
Himself. But John saith, that even to the very moment He continued to 
reprove him, saying, "Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?"(2) 
Art thou not ashamed even of the form of the betrayal? saith He. 
Nevertheless, forasmuch as not even this checked him, He submitted to be 
kissed, and gave Himself up willingly; and they laid their hands on Him, 
and seized Him that night on which they ate the passover, to such a degree 
did they boil with rage, and were mad. However, they would have had no 
strength, unless He had Himself suffered it. Yet this delivers not Judas 
from intolerable punishment, but even more exceedingly condemns him, for 
that though he had received such proof of His power, and lenity, and 
meekness, and gentleness, he became fiercer than any wild beast.

    Knowing then these things, let us flee from covetousness. For that, 
that it was, which then drove him to madness; that exercises them who are 
taken thereby in the most extreme cruelty and inhumanity. For, when it 
makes them to despair of their own salvation, much more doth it cause them 
to overlook that of the rest of mankind. And so tyrannical is the passing, 
as sometimes to prevail over the keenest lust. Wherefore indeed I am 
exceedingly ashamed, that to spare their money, may indeed have bridled 
their unchastity, but for the fear of Christ they were not willing to live 
chastely and with gravity.

    Wherefore I say, let us flee from it; for I will not cease for ever 
saying this. For why, O man, dost thou gather gold? Why dost thou make thy 
bondage more bitter? Why thy watching more grievous? Why thy anxiety more 
painful? Account for thine own the metals buried in the mines, those in the 
kings' courts. For indeed if thou hadst all that heap, thou wouldest keep 
it only, and wouldest not use it. For if now thou hast not used the things 
thou possessest, but abstainest from them as though they belonged to 
others, much more would this be the case with thee, if thou hadst more. For 
it is the way of the covetous, the more they heap up around them, the more 
to be sparing of it. "But I know," sayest thou, "that these things are 
mine." The possession then is in supposition only, not in enjoyment. But I 
should be an object of fear to men, sayest thou. Nay, but thou wouldest by 
this become a more easy prey both to rich and poor, to robbers, and false 
accusers, and servants, and in general to all that are minded to plot 
against thee. For if thou art desirous to be an object of fear, cut off the 
occasions by which they are able to lay hold of thee and pain thee, whoever 
have set their hearts thereon. Hearest thou not the parable that saith, 
that the poor and naked man, not even a hundred men gathered together are 
ever able to strip? For he hath his poverty as his greatest protection, 
which not even the king shall ever be able to subdue and take.

    3. The covetous man indeed all join in vexing. And why do I say men, 
when moths and worms war against such a man? And why do I speak of moths? 
Length of time is enough alone, even when no one troubles him, to do the 
greatest injury to such a man.

    What then is the pleasure of wealth? For I see its discomforts, but do 
thou tell me the pleasure of it. And what are its discomforts? sayest thou: 
anxieties, plots, enmities, hatred, fear; to be ever thirsting and in pain.

    For if any one were to embrace a damsel he loves, but were not able to 
satisfy his sire, he undergoes the utmost torment. Even so also doth the 
rich man. For he hath plenty, and is with her, but cannot satisfy all his 
desire; but the same result takes place as some wise man mentions; "The 
lust of eunuch to deflower a virgin;" and, "Like an eunuch embracing a 
virgin and groaning;"(3) so are all the rich.

    Why should one speak of the other things? how such a one is displeasing 
to all, to his servants, his laborers, his neighbors, to them that handle 
public affairs, to them that are injured, to them that are not injured, to 
his wife most of all, and to his children more than to any. For not as men 
does he bring them up, but more miserably than menials and purchased 
slaves.

    And countless occasions for anger, and vexation, and insult, and 
ridicule against himself, doth he bring about, being set forth as a common 
laughing stock to all. So the discomforts are these, and perhaps more than 
these; before one could never go through them all in discourse, but 
experience will be able to set them before us.

    But tell me the pleasure from hence. "I appear to be rich," he saith, 
"and am reputed to be rich." And what kind of pleasure to be so reputed? It 
is a very great name for envy. I say a name, for wealth is a name only void 
of reality.

    "Yet he that is rich," saith he, "indulges and delights himself with 
this notion." He delights himself in those things about which he ought to 
grieve. "To grieve? wherefore?" asks he. Because this renders him useless 
for all purposes, and cowardly and unmanly both with regard to banishment 
and to death, for he holds this double, longing more for money than for 
light. Such a one not even Heaven delights, because it beareth not gold; 
nor the sun, forasmuch as it puts not forth golden beams.

    But there are some, saith he, who do enjoy what they possess, living in 
luxury, in gluttony, in drunkenness, spending sumptuously. You are telling 
me of persons worse than the first. For the last above all are the men, who 
have no enjoyment. For the first at least abstains from other evils, being 
bound to one love; but the others are worse than these, besides what we 
have said, bringing in upon themselves a crowd of cruel masters, and doing 
service every day to the belly, to lust, to drunkenness, to other kinds of 
intemperance, as to so many cruel tyrants, keeping harlots, preparing 
expensive feasts, purchasing parasites, flatterers, turning aside after 
unnatural lusts, involving their body and their soul in a thousand diseases 
springing therefrom.

    For neither is it on what they want they spend their goods, but on 
ruining the body, and on ruining also the soul therewith; and they do the 
same, as if any one, when adorning his person, were to think he was 
spending his money on his own wants.

    So that he alone enjoys pleasure and is master of his goods, who uses 
his wealth for a proper object; but these are slaves and captives, for they 
aggravate both the passions of the body and the diseases of the soul. What 
manner of enjoyment is this, where is siege and war, and a storm worse than 
all the raging of the sea? For if wealth find men fools, it renders them 
more foolish; if wanton, more wanton.

    And what is the use of understanding, thou wilt say, to the poor man? 
As might be expected thou art ignorant; for neither doth the blind man know 
what is the advantage of light. Listen to Solomon, saying, "As far as light 
excelleth darkness, so doth wisdom excel folly."(1)

    But how shall we instruct him that is in darkness? For the love of 
money is darkness, permitting nothing that is to appear as it is, but 
otherwise. For much as one in darkness, though he should see a golden 
vessel, though a precious stone, though purple garments, supposes them to 
be nothing, for he sees not their beauty; so also he that is in 
covetousness, knows not as he ought the beauty of those things that are 
worthy of our care. Disperse then I pray thee the mist that arises from 
this passion, and then wilt thou see the nature of things.

    But nowhere do these things so plainly appear as in poverty, nowhere 
are those things. so disproved which seem to be, and are not, as in self-
denial.

    4. But oh! foolish men; who do even curse the poor, and say that both 
houses and living are disgraced by poverty, confounding all things. For 
what is a disgrace to a house? I pray thee. It hath no couch of ivory, nor 
silver vessels, but all of earthenware and wood. Nay, this is the greatest 
glory and distinction to a house. For to be indifferent about worldly 
things, often occasions all a man's leisure to be spent in the care of his 
soul.

    When therefore thou seest great care about outward things, then be 
ashamed at the great unseemliness. For the houses of them that are rich 
most of all want seemliness. For when thou seest tables covered with 
hangings, and couches inlaid with silver, much as in the theatre, much as 
in the display of the stage, what can be equal to this unseemliness? For 
what kind of house is most like the stage, and the things on the stage? The 
rich man's or the poor man's? Is it not quite plain that it is the rich 
man's? This therefore is full of unseemliness. What kind of house is most 
like Paul's, or Abraham's? It is quite evident that it is the poor man's. 
This therefore is most adorned, and to be approved. And that thou mayest 
learn that this is, above all, a house's adorning, enter into the house of 
Zacchaeus, and learn, when Christ was on the point of entering therein, how 
Zacchaeus adored it. For he did not run to his neighbors begging curtains, 
and seats, and chairs made of ivory, neither did he bring forth from his 
closets Laconian hangings; but he adorned it with an adorning suitable to 
Christ. What was this? "The half of my goods I will give, he saith, "to the 
poor; and whomsoever I have robbed, I will restore fourfold."(2) On this 
wise let us too adorn our houses, that Christ may enter in unto us also. 
These are the fair curtains, these are wrought in Heaven, they are woven 
there. Where these are, there is also the King of Heaven. But if thou adorn 
it in another way, thou art inviting the devil and his company.

    He came also into the house of the publican Matthew. What then did this 
man also do? He first adorned himself by his readiness, and by his leaving 
all, and following Christ.

    So also Cornelius adorned his house with prayers and alms; wherefore 
even unto this day it shines above the very palace. For the vile state of a 
house is not in vessels lying in disorder, nor in an untidy bed, nor in 
walls covered with smoke, but in the wickedness of them that dwell therein. 
And Christ showeth it, for into such a house, if the inhabitant be 
virtuous, He is not ashamed to enter; but into that other, though it have a 
golden roof, He will never enter. So that while this one is more gorgeous 
than the palace, receiving the Lord of all, that with its golden roof and 
columns is like filthy drains and sewers, for it contains the vessels of 
the devil.

    But these things we have spoken not of those who are rich for a useful 
purpose, but of the grasping, and the covetous. For neither is there 
amongst these, diligence nor care about the things needful, but about 
pampering the belly, and drunkenness, and other like unseemliness; but with 
the others about self-restraint. Therefore nowhere did Christ enter into a 
gorgeous house, but into that of the publican and chief publican, and 
fisherman, leaving the kings' palaces, and them that are clothed with soft 
raiment.

    If then thou also desirest to invite Him, deck thy house with alms, 
with prayers, with supplications, with vigils. These are the decorations of 
Christ the King, but those of mammon, the enemy of Christ. Let no one be 
ashamed then of a humble house, if it hath this furniture; let no rich man 
pride himself on having a costly house, but let him rather hide his face, 
and seek after this other, forsaking that, that both here he may receive 
Christ, and there enjoy the eternal tabernacles, by the grace and love 
towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might world 
without end. Amen.


HOMILY LXXXIV: MATT. XXVI. 51-54.

And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched forth his hand, 
and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest's, and smote 
off his ear." Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword unto his 
place, for all they that take the sword, shall perish by the sword. 
Thinkest(1) thou that I cannot pray to the Father, and He shall 
presently(2) give me more than twelve legions of angels? How then should 
the Scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be?"(3) Who was this "one," 
who cut off the ear? John saith that it was Peter.(4) For the act was of 
his fervor.

    But this other point is worth inquiry, wherefore they were bearing 
swords? For that they bore them is evident not hence only, but from their 
saying when asked, "here are two." But wherefore did Christ even permit 
them to have swords? For Luke affirms this too, that He said unto them, 
"When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and shoes, lacked ye anything?" 
And when they said, "Nothing," He said unto them, "But now, he that hath a 
purse, let him take it, and a scrip, and he that hath no sword, let him 
sell his garment, and buy one." And when they said, "Here are two swords," 
He said unto them, "It is enough."(5)

    Wherefore then did He suffer them to have them? To assure them that He 
was to be betrayed. Therefore He saith unto them, "Let him buy a sword," 
not that they should arm themselves, far from it; but by this, indicating 
His being betrayed.

    And wherefore doth He mention a scrip also? He was teaching them 
henceforth to be sober, and wakeful, and to use much diligence on their own 
part. For at the beginning He cherished them (as being inexperienced) with 
much putting forth of His power but afterwards bringing them forth as young 
birds out of the nest, He commands them to use their own wings. Then, that 
they might not suppose that it was for weakness He is letting them alone, 
in commanding them also to work their part, He reminds them of the former 
things, saying, "When I sent you without purse, lacked ye anything?" that 
by both they might learn His power, both wherein He protected them, and 
wherein He now leaveth them to themselves by degrees.

    But whence were the swords there? They were come forth from the supper, 
and from the table. It was likely also there should be swords because of 
the lamb, and that the disciples, hearing that certain were coming forth 
against Him, took them for defense, as meaning to fight in behalf of their 
Master, which was of their thought only. Wherefore also Peter is rebuked 
for using it, and with a severe threat. For he was resisting the servant 
who came, warmly indeed, yet not defending himself, but doing this in 
behalf of his Master.

    Christ however suffered not any harm to ensue. For He healed him, and 
showed forth a great miracle, enough to indicate at once both His 
forbearance and His power, and the affection and meekness of His disciple. 
For then he acted from affection, now with dutifulness. For when he heard, 
"Put up thy sword into its sheath,"(1) he obeyed straightway, and 
afterwards nowhere doeth this.

    But another saith, that they moreover asked, "Shall we smite?"(2) but 
that He for-bad it, and healed the man, and rebuked His disciple, and 
threatened, that He might move him to obedience. "For all they that take 
the sword," He said, "shall die with the sword."

    And he adds a reason, saying, "Think ye that I cannot pray to my 
Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? 
But that the Scriptures might be fulfilled."(3) By these words He quenched 
their anger, indicating that to the Scriptures also, this seemed good. 
Wherefore there too He prayed, that they might take meekly what befell Him, 
when they had learnt that this again is done according to God's will.

    And by these two things, He comforted them, both by the punishment of 
them that are plotting against Him, "For all they," He saith, "that take 
the sword shall perish with the sword;" and by His not undergoing these 
things against His will, "For I can pray, He saith, "to my Father."

    And wherefore did He not say, "Think ye that I cannot destroy them 
all?" Because He was more likely to be believed in saying what He did say; 
for not yet had they the right belief concerning Him. And a little while 
before He had said, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death," and, 
"Father, let the cup pass from me;"(4) and He had appeared in an agony and 
sweating, and strengthened by an angel.

    Since then He had shown forth many tokens of human nature, He did not 
seem likely to speak so as to be believed, if He had said, "Think ye that I 
cannot destroy them." Therefore He saith, "What, think ye that I cannot 
pray to my Father?" And again He speaks it humbly, in saying, "He will 
presently give me twelve legions of angels." For if one angel slew one 
hundred and eighty-five armed thousands,(5) what need of twelve legions 
against a thousand men? But He frames His language with a view to their 
terror and weakness, for indeed they were dead with fear. Wherefore also He 
brings against them the Scriptures, saying, "How then shall the Scriptures 
be fulfilled?" alarming them by this also. For if this be approved by the 
Scriptures, do ye oppose and fight against them?

    2. And to His disciples He saith these things; but to the othe