Homilies on the Gospel of John 1

The spectators of the games held outside, whenever they learn that some noble athlete and crowned victor has arrived from some quarter, all run together that they may behold his feats of wrestling, and all his skill and strength.

and you may see a whole theatre of many tens of thousands, all of them there straining both the eyes of the body and the eyes of the mind, so that nothing of what takes place may escape them.

And if some marvellous musician comes to town, again these same people in like manner fill the theatre, and, leaving aside all the matters in their hands—often necessary and urgent—they go up and take their seats, with great zeal listening to the songs and the playing of the strings, and scrutinizing the harmony of the two together.

And those who are versed in rhetorical discourses do, in their turn, this very same thing at the displays of the sophists.

For these too have their theatres, their audiences, their applause and clamour, and the most exacting scrutiny of what is spoken.

If, then, of rhetoricians and flute-players and athletes men sit—of some as spectators, of others as both viewers and listeners—with so great an eagerness,

how much zeal and eagerness would it be right for you to furnish us, now that it is not some flute-player nor sophist who is entering the contest, but a man who speaks from the heavens and sends forth a voice brighter than thunder? For he has taken hold of the whole inhabited world, and seized it, and filled it with his cry—not by shouting loudly, but by moving his tongue with the divine grace.

And what is marvellous is that, though the cry is so great, it is not rough nor unpleasant, but sweeter and more desirable than every musical harmony, and more able to enchant;

and besides all this, it is most holy and most awe-inspiring, so laden with hidden mysteries, and bringing such great blessings, that those who receive them with exactness and eagerness, and keep them safe, can no longer be mere men, nor remain upon the earth, but stand above all the things of this life, and, being transformed to the angelic estate, dwell upon the earth as though it were heaven.

For the son of thunder, the beloved of Christ, the pillar of the Churches throughout the inhabited world, who holds the keys of heaven, who drank the cup of Christ and was baptized with His baptism, who reclined upon the Lord's breast with much boldness—this man now enters in to us;

not acting a part in a drama, nor hiding his head behind a mask (for he will say nothing of that kind), nor mounting a stage-platform, nor beating the orchestra-floor with his foot, nor decked out in golden raiment;

but he enters wearing a robe possessed of an inconceivable beauty.

For he will appear to us clothed with Christ, having his feet shod—those beautiful feet—with the preparation of the Gospel of peace, wearing his girdle not about the breast, but about the loins;

a girdle not made of purple hide, nor gilded with gold on the outside, but woven and composed out of the truth itself.

This man will now appear to us, having no play-acting;

for with him there is no dissembling, no fiction and fable;

but with bared head he proclaims the naked truth.

He is not one thing himself while persuading his hearers of other things about himself by his bearing, his glance, his voice;

he needs no instruments for his proclamation—such as a kithara or a lyre, or any other thing of that sort;

he works with his tongue alone, sending forth a voice sweeter and more profitable than any harper's and than all music.

His fore-stage is the whole heaven;

and his spectators and hearers are all the angels, and as many of men as chance to be angels, or as desire to become such.

For these alone would be able to hear this harmony accurately, and to display it in their works, and to be hearers such as one ought to be.

For all the rest, like little children, hear indeed, but do not know the things they hear, but are all aflutter about sweet-cakes and childish playthings;

so too these men, laughing, living in luxury, and in wealth, and in power, and for the belly, do at times hear the things spoken, yet exhibit nothing great or lofty in their works, because they have once and for all nailed themselves fast to the brick and the clay.

Beside this apostle stand the powers on high, astonished at the beauty of his soul and his understanding, and at the bloom of his virtue, through which he drew Christ Himself to himself, and received the spiritual grace.

For as though he had prepared his own soul like some well-tuned lyre, inlaid with precious stones and having golden strings, so through it he gave the Spirit to sound forth something great and lofty.

Since, then, it is no longer the fisherman, nor the son of Zebedee, but He who knows the depths of God—the Spirit, I mean—who strikes up this lyre, let us so listen.

For he will say to us nothing human, but whatever he says will be from the spiritual abysses, from those unutterable mysteries which not even the angels knew before they came to pass;

for these too, together with us, through the voice of John and through us, learned the things we have come to know.

And this another apostle also made clear, saying:

'That now, through the Church, the manifold wisdom of God might be made known to the principalities and the powers.'

If, then, principalities and powers and the Cherubim and the Seraphim learned these things through the Church, it is quite evident that they too gave themselves with great intensity to this hearing.

For in this too we have been honoured not slightly, that the angels together with us learned the things they were ignorant of;

but that it was even through us—that I do not yet, for the present, affirm.

Let us, then, on our part also furnish much silence together with good order—not only today, nor merely on the day when we listen, but throughout our whole life;

since it is good to hear him at all times.

For if we long to know the things that happen in royal courts—

for instance, what the reigning king has said, what he has done, what he is planning concerning his subjects, even though these things often have nothing to do with us—

how much more is it to be longed for to hear the things which God has spoken, and especially when they all concern us.

And all these things this man will tell us with exactness, being a friend of the very One who reigns;

or rather, having Him even speaking within himself, and hearing from Him all that He heard from the Father:

'For I have called you friends,' He says, 'because all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you.'

As, therefore, if we saw someone from above, from the very summit of heaven, suddenly leaning down and promising to tell with exactness the things there, we would all run to him;

for it is from there that this man discourses to us.

For he is not of this world, even as Christ Himself also says:

'You are not of this world.'

And he has the Paraclete speaking within himself—Him who is everywhere present, who knows the things of God as exactly as the soul of man knows its own things;

the Spirit of holiness, the upright Spirit, the governing Spirit, who leads by the hand into the heavens, who makes other eyes, who prepares us to behold things to come as though present, who grants us even while in the flesh to gaze upon the things in the heavens.

Let us, therefore, furnish him with much stillness throughout the whole of our life;

let no one sluggish, no one drowsy, no one filthy, remain here when he enters in;

but let us transport ourselves to heaven;

for it is there that he speaks these things to those who have their citizenship there.

And if we remain upon the earth, we shall gain nothing great from this.

For the words of John are nothing to those who are unwilling to be delivered

from the swinish life—just as, on the other hand, the things here below are nothing to that man.

Thunder, then, astounds our souls, having an inarticulate sound;

but this man's voice troubles none of the faithful, but rather releases them from turmoil and confusion;

it astounds only the demons and those who are in bondage to them.

That we may see, then, how it astounds them, let us furnish much silence, both the outward and that of the mind;

and this above all. For what profit is there in the mouth being quiet, when the soul is in turmoil and full of tempest? It is that stillness which I seek—the stillness of the mind, the stillness of the soul;

since it is that hearing which I require.

Let no desire for money, then, trouble you, no love of glory, no tyranny of anger, nor the remaining throng of the other passions.

For it is not possible, unless the hearing be purified, to see the loftiness of the things spoken as one ought to see it, nor to know as one must the awful and unutterable character of these mysteries, and all the rest of the excellence that is in these divine oracles.

For if one could not learn a flute-melody or a harp-song well without wholly straining the mind to it, how shall one who sits as a hearer of mystic utterances be able to hear them with a slothful soul?

For this reason Christ also exhorted, saying:

'Do not give what is holy to the dogs, nor cast your pearls before swine.'

And He called these words pearls, though they are far more precious than these, since of this material we have nothing more precious.

For this reason too He is wont often to compare their sweetness to honey—not because such is the only measure of it, but because among us there is nothing else sweeter than this.

For that these words surpass even the preciousness of precious stones and the sweetness of all honey, and that by a great excess, hear the Prophet speaking of them and setting forth this surpassing worth:

'For they are to be desired,' he says, 'more than gold and much precious stone, and sweeter than honey and the honeycomb.'

Wherefore he added, 'For indeed thy servant keepeth them.'

And in another place again, having called them sweet, he added, 'To my throat.'

'For how sweet,' he says, 'are thy oracles to my throat!'

And again he maintains the surpassing worth, saying:

'Beyond honey and the honeycomb to my mouth.'

Let us, then, not approach these words while we are diseased in soul;

but having first healed the soul, let us so receive the banquet.

For this reason, though I have said so much by way of preface, I have not yet descended to these very words, in order that each one, laying aside every kind of infirmity, may enter—as though entering heaven itself—so, pure and set free from anger, from care, from the anxieties of this life, and from the other passions.

For it is not possible in any other way to gain some great benefit from these words, unless one has first thus thoroughly cleansed the soul.

And let no one say to me that the time between now and the coming assembly is short.

For it is possible, not only in five days, but even in a single moment, to change one's whole manner of life.

For tell me, what is worse than a robber and a murderer? Is not this the uttermost form of wickedness? Yet nevertheless he straightway attained to the very summit of virtue, and passed into paradise itself;

not needing days, nor half a day, but a brief moment.

So that it is possible to be suddenly transformed, and to become golden instead of clay.

For since the things of virtue and of wickedness are not by nature, the change is easy, being free from all necessity.

'If ye be willing and hearken unto me,' he says, 'ye shall eat the good things of the land.'

Seest thou that will alone is needed—will, and not merely this common will of the multitude, but that which is earnest and diligent?

Since I know that all men now wish to soar up to heaven; but the will must be shown through works.

For the merchant too wishes to be rich, yet he does not let his wishing stand at the level of thought only, but he builds a ship, gathers sailors, calls a pilot, furnishes the ship with all else, borrows gold, crosses the deep, departs to a foreign land, endures many dangers, and does all the other things that they know who sail the sea.

So must we also show our will.

For we too are sailing a voyage—not the one from land to land, but the one from earth to heaven.

Let us therefore make our reason fit for the guidance that leads upward, and its sailors obedient, and the vessel sound, so that we may neither be swamped by worldly calamity and despondency, nor be lifted up by the spirit of arrogance, but may be well-girded and light.

If we prepare the ship thus, and thus the pilot and the sailors, we shall sail with fair winds, and shall draw to ourselves the Son of God, the true Pilot;

who will not suffer our bark to be swamped, but even though ten thousand winds should blow, will rebuke both the winds and the sea, and instead of tossing will work a great calm.

Having therefore so prepared yourselves, come tomorrow to the church, if indeed it is your earnest desire to hear something profitable and to lay up the words that are spoken in your soul.

Let no one be a wayside, no one a rock, no one filled with thorns.

Let us make ourselves fresh-broken fallow ground;

for so shall we too cast in the seed with eagerness, if we see the soil clean;

but if we see it stony and rough, forgive us for not being willing to labor in vain;

for if, leaving off the sowing, we should begin to cut out the thorns, it would again be the height of folly to cast seeds into unworked ground.

He who enjoys this hearing ought not to partake of the table of demons.

For what fellowship hath righteousness with lawlessness? Thou standest hearing John, and through him learning the things of the Spirit, and after this thou departest to listen to harlot women, uttering shameful things and acting things yet more shameful, and to effeminate men slapping and being slapped by one another. How shalt thou be able to be rightly cleansed, wallowing in such filth? For why need I recount piece by piece all the indecency there? For everything there is laughter, everything shame, everything reproach, and railings and jeers;

everything dissoluteness, everything ruin.

Behold, I foretell and charge you all:

let no one of those who enjoy this table corrupt his own soul with those deadly spectacles.

All that is said and done there is a satanic pomp.

And ye who have been initiated know what covenants ye made with us;

or rather, what covenants ye made with Christ, when He Himself initiated you into the mysteries;

what ye said to Him, what ye discoursed to Him concerning the satanic pomp, how at that time ye renounced it together with Satan and his angels, and promised that ye would not so much as peep in there. There is therefore no small fear, lest anyone, becoming faithless concerning such promises, should render himself unworthy of these mysteries.

Dost thou not see how in the royal courts it is not those who have given offense, but those who are honored, who are called to share that counsel, and are ranked among the friends of the king? An ambassador has come to us from heaven, sent by God Himself, to discourse concerning certain necessary matters;

yet ye, leaving off to hear what He wills and what He conveys to us by His embassy, sit listening to mimes.

And of how many thunderbolts are these things not worthy, of how many bolts of lightning? For just as one must not partake of the table of demons,

so neither of the hearing of demons, nor should one come with filthy garments to the splendid table so laden with good things, which God Himself has prepared.

For so great is its power that it can lift us up all at once even to heaven itself, if only we attend to it with a sober mind.

For it is not possible that he who is continually sung to with the divine words should remain in his present lowliness;

but he must straightway be winged, and fly up to that region above, and light upon the boundless treasures of good things;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father be glory, together with the all-holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.