Homilies on the Gospel of John 59

'What sayest thou of Him, seeing that He hath opened thine eyes?' And he said, 'That He is a prophet.'

'The Jews therefore did not believe.'

We ought to peruse the Scriptures not carelessly nor by the way, but with all exactness, that we be not tripped up.

For even now one might reasonably here be at a loss: how, having said, 'This man is not of God, because he keepeth not the sabbath,' they say to him:

'What sayest thou of Him, seeing that He hath opened thine eyes?' And they did not say, 'What sayest thou of Him, seeing that He hath broken the sabbath?' but they now put the matter of defence in place of the accusation.

What then is there to say? These are not the same persons who speak.

'This man is not of God;'

but rather those who had been divided from them;

who also said, 'A sinful man cannot do such signs.'

For wishing to silence them the more, that they might not seem themselves to be pleading Christ's cause, they bring into their midst the man who had received proof of His power, and question him.

Behold, then, the wisdom of the poor man.

For he speaks more sagaciously than all of these.

And first he saith that 'He is a prophet,' and quailed not before the judgment of those perverse Jews, who gainsaid and said:

'How can this man be from God, seeing that He keepeth not the sabbath?' but he said that 'He is a prophet.'

'And they did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight, until they called his parents.'

And mark by how many ways they attempt to overshadow and to do away with the miracle.

But the very nature of truth, through the very means by which it seems to be plotted against by men, is thereby made the stronger;

through the very things by which it is overshadowed, it shines the brighter.

For had these things not come to pass, the miracle might have been suspected by the many;

but as it is, they do all things as though earnestly striving to lay bare the truth, and they would not have acted otherwise even if they had been doing everything on Christ's behalf.

For they attempted by this means also to cast Him down, saying, 'How opened He thine eyes?' that is to say, was it not by some sorcery? For elsewhere too, having nothing to lay to His charge, they attempt to cavil at the manner of the healing, saying:

'He casteth not out the demons, except by Beelzebul.'

And here again, having nothing to say, they take refuge in the occasion, saying, 'He breaks the Sabbath.'

And again, that 'He is a sinner.'

And yet, while you were envious and ready to seize upon anything He had done, He asked with all exactness, saying, 'Which of you convicts Me of sin?'

And no one uttered a word, nor said, 'You blaspheme in calling Yourself sinless.'

And indeed, had they anything to say, they would not have kept silent.

For those who, because they heard that He is 'before Abraham,' stoned Him and said that He was not from God—men who boasted that they themselves were from God, though they were murderers, while they declared that He who wrought such signs was not from God because He did not keep the Sabbath, even though He had healed—

if they had even the shadow of an accusation, they would not have let it pass by.

But if they call Him a sinner for this reason—because He seemed to break the Sabbath—this charge too has been shown to be stale, since even those ranked among their own party condemned them for great coldness and pettiness of soul.

Being therefore hemmed in on every side, they now proceed to another course, more shameless and more brazen.

What sort of thing is this? 'They did not believe,' it says, 'that he had been blind and had received his sight.'

How then did they accuse Him of not keeping the Sabbath—except plainly as men who did believe it? And why did you not attend to the great multitude, to the neighbors who knew him? But, as I said, everywhere falsehood falls into contradiction with itself: by the very means through which it seems to insult the truth, it makes the truth shine more brightly—which is exactly what has happened now.

For lest anyone should say that the neighbors and those who saw him spoke nothing exact but only surmised a likeness, they bring forward his parents into the midst, by whom, even against their will, they prove that what had happened was true.

For these above all men knew their own child.

For since they could not overawe the man himself, but saw him proclaiming his benefactor with all boldness, they expected from his parents to wound the miracle.

And mark the malice of the question.

For what does it say? Setting them in the midst, so as to cast them into anguish, with much vehemence and wrath they put the inquiry:

'Is this your son?' And they did not say, 'The one formerly blind,'

but how? 'Whom you say was born blind'—as though the parents were acting fraudulently and lending support to Christ's cause.

And what father would choose to bring such false charges against his own child? For they all but say, 'Whom you made blind';

and not only that, but 'you also spread the report everywhere.'

'How then does he now see?' O the folly!

'Yours,' he says, 'is the intrigue and the contrivance.'

For by these two things they attempt to lead them into denial: both by saying,

'Whom you say,' and by saying,

Three questions therefore being put—whether he was their son, whether he was blind, and how he received his sight—they confess only the two, but do not add the third.

And this too came to pass for the sake of the truth, so that no other, but the one who had been healed—being also worthy of credit—should confess these things.

For how could the parents have shown favor, who, out of fear of the Jews, kept silent even about some things they knew? For what do they say? 'That this is our son we know, and that he was born blind;

but how he now sees, or who opened his eyes, we do not know;

he is of age, he will speak for himself.'

Having made him worthy of credit, they thus begged off.

'He is not a child,' they say, 'nor immature, but competent to testify for himself.'

These things they said because of their fear of the Jews.

See how again the evangelist brings their opinion and their disposition into the midst.

I say these things because of that word which they spoke before, when they said that 'He makes Himself equal to God';

for if that too had been merely the opinion of the Jews, and not the judgment of Christ, he would have added and said that it was a Jewish notion.

Since, then, they referred them to the man who had been healed, they called him again a second time.

And openly and shamelessly they do not say:

'Deny that Christ healed you';

but under a pretext of piety they wish to contrive this.

For 'Give,' he says, 'glory to God.'

For to say to the parents, 'Deny that he is your son, and that you begot him blind,' seemed exceedingly ridiculous;

and again, to say this to the man himself was manifest shamelessness.

For this reason they do not say it, but manage it another way, saying, 'Give glory to God';

that is to say, 'Confess that this man did nothing.'

'We know that this man is a sinner.'

How then did you not convict Him when He said:

'Which of you convicts Me of sin?' And whence do you know that He is a sinner? But when they had said, 'Give glory to God,' and he had said nothing of the kind, Christ, meeting him, praised him and did not blame him, nor say, 'Why did you not give glory to God?' but what? 'Do you believe in the Son of God?'—that you may learn that this is to give glory to God.

But if He were not equal in honor to the Father, this would not be glory.

But since he who honors the Son is the very one who honors the Father, with good reason the blind man is not rebuked.

So then, while they expected the parents to shrink back and deny, they said nothing to him;

but when they saw that nothing more had come to them from this, they come to him again, saying, 'This man is a sinner.'

He answered and said:

'Whether He is a sinner, I do not know;

one thing I know, that though I was blind, now I see.'

Was the blind man then afraid? God forbid!

And how does he who said, 'He is a prophet,' now say, 'Whether He is a sinner, I do not know'? Not because he was of this mind, nor because he had persuaded himself of it, but because he wished to acquit Him of the charges from the testimony of the deed, and not from his own voice, and to make his defense worthy of credit, since the testimony drawn from the benefit passed sentence against them.

For if, after he had spoken more words and said, 'If this man were not a worshipper of God, He could not do such signs,' they were so indignant as to say, 'You were altogether born in sins, and do you teach us?'—if he had said this from the outset, what would they not have done? What would they not have said? 'Whether He is a sinner, I do not know'—as though he were saying:

'I say nothing beyond this now, nor do I as yet pronounce;

yet this I know clearly and would firmly affirm, that were He a sinner, He could not have done such things.'

For this reason he made himself free from suspicion, and his testimony incorruptible, as one no longer showing favor, but bearing witness from the fact itself.

Since, then, they could neither overturn nor do away with what had happened, they come again to their former point, prying into the manner of the healing, like men searching out on every side a prey that lies securely before them, and now running here, now there.

And they come back to their former words, that by continual questioning they may again make him waver, and they say:

'What did He do to you? How did He open your eyes?' What then does he say? Having conquered

and overthrown them, he no longer converses in a subdued manner.

For as long as the matter required investigation and proof, he furnished the demonstration, speaking with restraint;

but when he had taken them and won a splendid victory, he thereupon boldly presses upon them.

And what does he say? 'I told you once, and you did not hear;

why do you wish to hear again?' Did you see the boldness of a beggar toward men who were scribes and Pharisees? So strong is truth, so weak is falsehood.

For the one, even if it lays hold of ordinary men, renders them illustrious;

but the other, even if it be with the strong, shows them to be weak.

What He says is to this effect:

You pay no heed to what is spoken;

for this reason I will speak no longer, nor answer you continually, since you question at random, and not because you wish to hear in order to learn, but in order to cavil at what is said.

'Do you also wish to become His disciples?' Meanwhile he had ranked himself in the choir of the disciples.

For the words 'Do you also' show that he himself was a disciple.

Then he mocked them and reproached them sufficiently.

For since he knew that this stung them exceedingly, wishing to lay hold of them with utmost force, he said this;

which was the mark of a soul that had grown bold and taken wing and despised their madness, and that displayed how great was His dignity, in which the man had utterly taken courage, and made plain that while they were insulting One who was wonderful, He Himself was not insulted, but what they offered as an insult he seized upon as an honour.

'You are that man's disciple,' he says;

'but we are disciples of Moses.'

But this would have no reason in it.

For you are neither Moses' disciples nor His.

For if you were Moses', you would have become His also.

Wherefore Christ had said to them earlier:

'If you had believed Moses, you would have believed Me;

for he wrote concerning Me;'

since they were always taking refuge in these words:

'We know that God has spoken to Moses.'

Who said it? Who reported it? 'Our forefathers,' he says.

Then, he says, is not the One who confirms this by signs — namely, that He comes from God and that He utters the things from above — more worthy of belief than your forefathers? And they did not say:

'We have heard that God has spoken to Moses,' but 'We know.'

The things from hearsay you, O Jews, affirm strongly as though you knew them;

yet do you count the things from sight to be less than those from hearing? And indeed those things you did not see but heard;

but these things you did not hear, but saw.

What then does the blind man say? 'For herein is the marvel, that you know not whence He is, and yet He does such signs;'

'that a man who is not among the notable ones with you, nor among the illustrious, nor among those held in glory, can do such things;'

'so that it is clear on every side that He is God, needing no human help.'

'Now we know that God does not hear sinners.'

For since they had said before, 'How can a sinful man do such signs?' he now also takes up their own judgement, reminding them of their own words.

'This glory,' he says, 'is common both to me and to you;'

everywhere he turns the sign about, since they could not overthrow it, and from it he draws his reasoning.

Do you see that what he said from the beginning also — namely, 'Whether He is a sinner I know not' — was not from doubting;

but from knowing that He is not a sinner? Now at any rate, when he had opportunity, see how he made his defence.

'Now we know that God does not hear sinners; but if any man be God-fearing and does His will, him He hears.'

For here he not only cleared Him of sins, but also showed Him to be exceedingly pleasing to God, and to do all His works.

For since they called themselves God-fearing, he added, 'And does His will.'

'For it is not enough,' he says, 'to acknowledge God, but also to do His will.'

Then he exalts what had been done, saying, 'Since the world began it was never heard that anyone opened the eyes of one born blind.'

'If then you confess that He does not hear sinners, and this man wrought a wonder — and such a wonder as no man ever wrought — it is quite plain that He has conquered all in virtue, and is greater than to be measured by man's standard.'

What then did they say? 'You were altogether born in sins, and do you teach us?'

For so long as they expected him to deny, they even considered him worthy of credit, and called him once and a second time.

But if you did not consider him worthy of credit, I would say to them, why did you call and question him a second time? But when he uttered the truth, being ashamed of nothing — precisely when it was fitting most to admire him — then they condemn him.

And what is the meaning of 'You were altogether born in sins'? Here they even reproach him unsparingly with his blindness;

as if they said, 'From your earliest age you are in sins,' hinting that it was for this cause he had become blind, which had no reason in it.

At any rate, comforting him in this, Christ said:

'For judgement I have come into this world, that they who see not might see, and that they who see might become blind.'

'You were altogether born in sins, and do you teach us?' For what had the man said? Did he set forth his own opinion? Did he not examine a common judgement, saying:

'We know that God does not hear sinners'? Did he not bring forward into the midst the things spoken by you? 'And they cast him out.'

Did you see the herald of the truth, how poverty was no hindrance to his philosophy? Do you see how much he heard from the outset, and how much he suffered? and how, both by words and by deeds, he bore witness? IV.

And these things have been written, that we too may imitate them.

For if the beggar, the blind man, who had not even seen Him, straightway displayed so great a boldness before Christ's exhortation, standing before a whole populace that was murderous and demon-possessed and raging, and that wished from his own mouth to condemn Christ, and yet he neither yielded nor gave way, but with all boldness stopped their mouths, and chose rather to be cast out than to betray the truth;

how much more ought we — we who have lived so long a time in the faith, who have seen countless wonders through faith, who have been benefited more than he, who have had our inward eyes opened and have beheld the ineffable mysteries, and have been called to so great an honour — how much more ought we to display all boldness on His behalf toward those who attempt to accuse and to say anything against Christians, and to stop their mouths, and not simply to acquiesce!

And we shall be able to do this, if we both have boldness, and give heed to the Scriptures, and do not hear them carelessly.

For if anyone come in here carefully, even though he read not at home, but attend to the things spoken here, one single year is enough to establish him in much experience.

For we do not read these Scriptures today and others tomorrow;

but always the same, and continually.

Yet nonetheless the many are so wretchedly disposed that, after so much reading, they do not even know the names of the books;

and they are neither ashamed nor tremble, entering so carelessly into a divine place of hearing.

But if a harper, or a dancer, or some other of those upon the stage summon the city, all run with eagerness, and are thankful to him for the invitation, and spend half of a whole day, giving heed to him alone;

but when God discourses to us through prophets and apostles, we yawn, we scratch ourselves, we grow dizzy.

And in summer there seems to be great drought, and we betake ourselves to the market-place;

and in winter again, the rain is a hindrance, and the mud, and we sit at home.

And at the horse-races, though there is no roof overhead to keep off the rain, the greater number stand there raging, though many showers pour down and the wind drives the water into their faces, despising cold and rain and mud and the length of the way, and nothing either keeps them at home or there hinders them from crossing over;

but here, though there are roofs overhead and a wonderful warmth, they shrink back and do not come together;

and this too when it is for the gain of their own soul.

Where is this endurable, tell me? For this cause, while in those things we are more experienced than all, in things necessary we are more ignorant than children.

And if anyone call you a charioteer or a dancer, you say you have been insulted, and do everything so that the reproach may be removed from you;

but if he draw you to the sight of the thing itself, you do not leap away;

and the very art whose name you shun, you pursue almost entirely.

But where you ought to have both the thing and the name, and both to be and to be called a Christian, you know not even what the thing itself is.

What could be worse than this madness? These are the things I would wish to say to you continually;

but I am afraid that I make myself hateful in vain and to no profit.

For I see that not only the young are frenzied, but the old as well;

and it is over these that I am most ashamed, when I see a man venerable by reason of his grey hair disgracing that grey hair, and a little child trailing along after him.

For what is worse than this laughter? What is more shameful than this behaviour? The child is taught by his father to act indecently.

Do these words sting? That is precisely what I intend—that you should endure the pain that comes through my words, so that you may be delivered from the disgrace that comes through your deeds.

For indeed there are some who, being far colder than these, are not even ashamed at what is said, but even spin out a long discourse in defence of the matter.

And if you ask who Amos was, or Obadiah, or what the number of the prophets is, or of the apostles, they cannot even open their mouths.

But concerning horses and charioteers they put together a defence more skilled than that of sophists and orators;

and after all this they say, «And what is the harm? And what is the loss?» It is for this very reason that I groan—that you do not even recognize the matter to be a loss, nor do you have any perception of these evils.

God has given you an appointed span of life in order to serve Him;

but you, spending it in vain and to no purpose and on nothing useful, still ask, «What is the loss?» And yet, if you merely spend a little money, you call the thing a loss;

yet spending whole days upon satanic pageants, you think you are doing nothing amiss? When you ought to spend your whole life on prayers and supplications, you instead squander your life in vain and to your own hurt upon shouts and tumults and shameful words, and quarrels and untimely amusement, and deeds that spring from sorcery;

and after all this you ask, «What is the loss?»—not knowing that there is nothing one ought to be more sparing of than time.

If you spend gold, you will be able to acquire it again;

but if you lose time, you will recover it only with difficulty.

For but little of it has been apportioned to us in this present life.

If, then, we do not use it as we ought, what shall we say when we have departed to that place yonder? For tell me:

if you had commanded one of your sons to learn a trade, and then he stayed constantly at home, or spent his time somewhere else, would not the teacher renounce him? Would he not say to you:

«You made a contract with me, and fixed a period of time.

If, then, the child is not going to spend this time with us, but elsewhere, how shall we present him to you as a pupil?» These same things we too must needs say.

«I gave you time,» He says, «in order to learn this trade, the trade of piety;

why have you spent this time in vain and to no purpose? And why did you not go continually to the Teacher, nor attend to what was spoken?» That piety is indeed a trade, hear what the prophet says:

«Come, ye children, hearken unto me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.»

«Blessed is the man whom Thou dost chasten, O Lord, and teachest him out of Thy law.»

When, therefore, you have spent this time in vain, what defence will you have? «And why,» says one, «has He apportioned us but a little time?» O the insensibility and the ingratitude!

For that for which you ought most of all to give thanks—that He cut short your labours, and abridged your sweat, and made your rest long and immortal—for these things do you bring accusation and complain? But indeed I do not know how we have carried the discourse out to this length here and made it long.

Wherefore it is necessary to draw it in again.

For this too belongs to our wretchedness: that here, if the discourse becomes long, we all grow weary;

but there, beginning at midday, they do not withdraw until torches and lamps are lit.

But that we may not always be accusing you, we henceforth exhort and beseech you:

grant this favour both to us and to yourselves, and, being freed from all other things, let us nail ourselves to these.

For we too shall gain from you the joy and

the gladness, and the exaltation over you, and shall receive the recompense for these things;

but the whole reward you yourselves shall reap, in that, having been so madly nailed to the theatre before this, you have—through the fear of God and our exhortation—torn yourselves away from that disease, and burst your bonds, and run to God.

And not there only shall you receive the reward, but here too you shall reap a pure pleasure;

for together with the crowns yonder, it makes life here also sweet for us.

Let us therefore be persuaded by what has been said, so that we may obtain both the good things here and those yonder, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages.