Homilies on the Gospel of John 64

Now Jesus was not yet come into the town, but was in the place where Martha met Him.

The Jews then which were with her, and what follows.

And by philosophy I mean that which is among us.

For the things of those outside are but words and fables only;

and not even those fables themselves contain anything philosophical.

For all their affairs are done for the sake of glory.

A great good, therefore, is philosophy, and it renders us its recompenses even here.

For he who despises riches even now reaps the benefit, being freed from superfluous and unprofitable cares;

and he who tramples upon glory even now receives his reward, being slave to none, but free with true freedom.

He who desires heavenly things receives his recompense even here, esteeming present affairs as nothing, and easily mastering all grief.

Behold then this woman also, being a lover of wisdom, received her reward even here.

For though all sat around her as she mourned and beat her breast, she did not wait for the Teacher to come to her, nor did she keep up appearances of decorum, nor was she held fast by her grief.

For along with the rest of their wretchedness, mourning women have this malady also, that they wish to make a display of themselves in their present circumstances.

But this woman experienced none of these things; rather, as soon as she heard, she came quickly to Him.

Now Jesus had not yet come into the town.

For He walked more slowly, so that He might not seem to be thrusting Himself upon the miracle, but to be entreated by them.

Either, then, the Evangelist wished to hint at this by the words, 'She rises quickly';

or he shows that she ran so as to reach Him while He was yet coming.

And she comes not alone, but drawing after her also the Jews who were in the house.

Very wisely, on this account, did her sister call her secretly, so as not to throw into confusion those who had come together;

and she did not even tell the reason;

for otherwise many would have withdrawn.

But as it was, since she departed as though to weep, all followed her;

and perhaps by these means again it is confirmed that Lazarus was dead.

And she fell at His feet.

This woman was more fervent than her sister.

She was not ashamed before the crowd, nor before the suspicion which they held concerning Him

(for there were many even of the enemies present, who indeed said:

'Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that this man also should not die?'); but she cast away all human considerations, since the Teacher was present, and became wholly given to one thing only—the honour due to the Teacher.

And what does she say? 'Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.'

And what does Christ do? He says nothing to her for the present, nor does He speak those things which He had spoken also to her sister (for a great crowd was present, and it was not the time for those words);

but He only bears Himself with restraint and condescends, and, in confirmation of His human nature, weeps softly, and defers the miracle for the present.

For since the miracle was great, and such as He rarely performed, and many were about to believe through it, lest the doing of it apart from them should be set before the crowds and they should gain nothing from its greatness, He draws to Himself many witnesses by His condescension, so that He might not lose the catch, and shows what belonged to human nature;

for He weeps and is troubled.

For He knows that suffering rekindles grief.

Then, having rebuked the emotion (for this is the meaning of 'He groaned in the spirit'), He checked the disturbance, and thus asks, 'Where have you laid him?'—so that the question might not be made amid lamentation.

But why does He ask? Not wishing to thrust Himself forward, but to learn everything from them and to be entreated to act, so that He might free the miracle from all suspicion.

Do you see that He had as yet shown no sign of resurrection, nor does He go off as one about to raise him, but as one about to weep? For that He seemed to be going away as though to lament, and not as though to raise him, the Jews make clear, who indeed said:

'Could not this man, who caused the eyes of the blind to be opened, have caused that this man also should not die?' Not even amid the calamities did they relax their wickedness.

And yet what He is about to do is far more marvellous.

For to drive away death when it has already come upon a man, arrived and taken hold, is far greater than to stay it as it approaches.

From the very things, then, by which they ought to have marvelled at His power, from these they slander Him.

For the present they confess that He opened the eyes of the blind man;

and while they ought to have marvelled on that account, from this they cast a slander even upon that other work, as though it had not even happened.

And not from this alone are they all shown to be corrupt;

but also from the fact that, before He had even come or shown anything, they forestalled Him with their accusations, not waiting for the outcome of the matter.

Do you see how corrupt their judgement was? Part 2.

He comes then to the tomb, and again rebukes the emotion.

But why does the Evangelist so earnestly say, over and over, both that He wept and that He groaned? That you may learn that He truly clothed Himself with our nature.

For since this Evangelist is manifestly, more than the others, one who speaks great things concerning Him, in bodily matters he here also utters things far more lowly.

At any rate, concerning the death he said nothing such as the others did—that He became exceedingly sorrowful, that He was in agony;

but quite the contrary, that He even cast them prostrate upon the ground.

What was therefore lacking there, He supplied here through His mourning.

For discoursing concerning the death, He says:

'I have power to lay down my life.'

And there he utters nothing lowly.

For this reason, in the Passion also they attach much of the human to him, thereby making plain that the things of the dispensation were true.

And Matthew confirms it from the agony and the tumult and the sweat;

but this one confirms it from the mourning.

It was of our nature that he was overcome by grief, once and again.

But what of Jesus? As to the accusations, he makes no defence to them at all;

for what need was there to silence with words those who were presently, through the works themselves, about to suffer this — a thing that was less burdensome and more than sufficient to put them to shame?

But why then did he not call and raise him up while absent? Or rather, why did he not make him rise with the stone still lying upon the tomb? For he who was able to move a dead body by his voice and to show it re-ensouled once more, would much more have had strength to move a stone by the same voice;

he who prepared the one bound with grave-clothes, and with these fettered hand and foot, to walk by his voice, would much more have moved a stone.

What am I saying? Even while absent he would have done this.

Why then did he not do so? So that he might make them witnesses of the miracle;

so that they might not say what they said also in the case of the blind man: 'This is he,' 'It is not he.'

For the hands, and their coming to the tomb, bore witness that it was he.

So that, had they not come, they might have supposed it a phantom, or that they saw one instead of another.

But now, their coming to the place, and lifting the stone, and being commissioned to loose from the bonds him who had died and lay swaddled, and the friends who had carried him out of the tomb recognizing from the grave-clothes that it was he, and the sisters not being absent, and Martha's saying this word —

all these things were already sufficient to stop the mouths of the ungrateful, since they had become witnesses of the sign.

For this reason he commands them to lift the stone from the grave, showing that it is he who raises him;

'Where have you laid him?' — so that those who had said, 'Come and see,' and who had led him there, might not be able to say that he had raised another;

so that both the voice and the hands might bear witness (the voice, saying, 'Come and see';

and the hands, having lifted the stone, having loosed the grave-clothes);

and sight and hearing (the latter, having heard the voice;

and smell too, perceiving the stench);

With reason, then, they were saying that the little woman understood nothing of what Christ had said, that 'Even if he die, he shall live.'

Observe, at any rate, what she says here, as though the thing were now impossible on account of the time.

For it was indeed strange to raise a dead man of four days, already decomposed.

And to the disciples he said,

'That the Son of God may be glorified,' declaring it concerning himself;

but to the woman, 'You shall see the glory of God,' speaking concerning the Father.

Do you see that the weakness of the hearers is the cause of the difference in what is said? And he reminds her of what he had discoursed to her, all but rebuking her as one who had forgotten.

Or, since for the time he did not wish to astound those present, he says quietly:

'Did I not say to you, that if you believe, you shall see the glory of God?' 3.

A great good, then, is faith — a great good, and the cause of many good things;

so that men are able to do the things of God in his Name.

'For if you believe,' he says, 'you shall say to this mountain, Remove, and it shall remove';

and again, 'He who believes in me, the works that I do, he shall do also, and greater than these shall he do.'

'What kind,' one asks, 'are the greater?' Those which the disciples are seen doing afterward.

For even Peter's shadow raised a dead man.

Thus was the power of Christ the more proclaimed.

For it is not so marvellous that he, while living, should work wonders, as that, after he had died, others in his Name should be able to do greater things than he.

For this was an incontrovertible proof of the resurrection;

not even had he appeared to all would he thus have been believed.

For those men might even have said that it was a phantom;

but he who sees, from his Name alone, signs coming to pass far greater than when he himself dwelt among men, would not disbelieve, unless he were exceedingly senseless.

A great good, therefore, is faith, when it comes from a fervent mind, from much love and a boiling soul.

This shows us to be true lovers of wisdom; this hides the meanness of our human condition, and, letting go the reasonings below, it philosophizes concerning the things in the heavens;

or rather, that which the wisdom of men is unable to discover, this — out of its abundance —

this it lays hold of and accomplishes.

Let us therefore hold fast to it, and not entrust our own affairs to reasonings.

For why, tell me, were the Greeks able to discover nothing? Did they not know all the wisdom that is from without? Whence, then, were they unable to prevail over fishermen and tent-makers and the unlearned? Was it not because the former entrusted everything to reasonings, but these to faith? For this reason these overcame Plato and Pythagoras and, in a word, all who had gone astray;

and they surpassed those who had worn themselves out in astronomy and mathematics and geometry and arithmetic, and who had learned every branch of learning, and became as much better as the truly wise and those who really are surpass those who are by nature foolish and out of their wits.

These men declared the soul immortal;

or rather, they did not merely declare it, but even persuaded men of it.

But those others formerly did not even know what in the world the soul is;

and when they had discovered it, and had distinguished it from the body, they again suffered the same thing, some saying that it is incorporeal, others that it is a body and is dissolved together with the body itself.

Concerning heaven, again, some said that it is ensouled and a god;

but the fishermen said that it is the work and handiwork of God, and they both taught and persuaded.

But that the Greeks used reasonings is nothing to marvel at;

but that those who seem to be believers should be found to be soulish — this is what is worthy of lamentation.

For this reason these too went astray: some said they knew God as he himself knows himself, which not even those others dared to say;

others said that God cannot beget impassibly, not even conceding to him that he has anything more than men;

and others saying that neither does an upright life profit anything, nor an exact conduct of life.

But it is not the time now to refute these things.

For that a right faith profits nothing when the life is corrupt, both Christ and Paul make plain, having cared the more for this part;

Christ, when he teaches:

'Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of the heavens';

and again, 'Many will say to me in that day:

Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? And then will I confess to them, that I never knew you;

depart from me, you who work iniquity.'

For those who do not attend to themselves easily slip into wickedness, even though they hold a right faith.

And Paul, when writing to the Hebrews, speaks and exhorts in this way:

Pursue peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no one shall see the Lord;

by sanctification he means chastity, so that each man ought to be content with his own wife, and not to fall in with another.

For it is impossible that he who is not content should be saved;

but he must altogether perish, even though he possess ten thousand good deeds.

For together with fornication it is impossible to enter into the kingdom of heaven;

or rather, this is no longer fornication, but adultery.

For just as she who is bound to a husband, if she come together with another, has thenceforth committed adultery,

so too he who is bound to a wife, if he have another, has committed adultery.

And such a man shall not inherit the kingdom, but shall fall into hell.

Hear what Christ says concerning these things:

Their worm shall not die, and the fire shall not be quenched.

For he who, after having a wife and so great a comfort, wantonly outrages another woman, has no excuse whatsoever;

and if the many abstain even from her, when it is a season of fasting, when it is a season of prayer,

he who is not content even with her, but mingles also with another, how great a fire does he heap up for himself? If it is not permitted for one who has put away and cast out his own wife to mingle with another,

how great an evil does he work who brings in another woman while she is still within the house? Let no one, then, suffer this disease to remain in the soul, but let him tear it out by the roots.

He does not so much wrong the woman as he wrongs himself.

For so grievous and unpardonable is this sin, that if a woman be separated from an idolater against his will, God punishes the woman;

but if she be separated from a fornicator, no longer so. Do you see how great an evil this is? For if any woman, he says, who is a believer have an unbelieving husband, and he consent to dwell with her, let her not leave him.

But concerning the fornicatress it is not so;

but what? Whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of

fornication, causes her to commit adultery.

For if intercourse makes one body, he who is joined to a harlot must of necessity become one body with her.

How then shall the honorable woman receive this man, being a member of Christ? Or how shall she join to herself the member of a harlot? And behold the excess of the matter:

She who dwells with the unbeliever is not unclean (for the unbelieving husband, he says, is sanctified in the wife);

but in the case of the harlot it is not so;

but what? Shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them members of a harlot? For there the sanctification remains even while he dwells with her, and does not depart;

For fornication is a terrible thing, terrible, and procuring undying punishment.

And even here it draws after it ten thousand evils.

For such a man is compelled to live a wretched and miserable life, and is in no better case than those who are being punished, stealing into another's house with much fear and trembling, suspecting all alike, both servants and freemen.

Wherefore, I beseech you, be earnest to be delivered from this disease.

But if you will not be persuaded, do not set foot upon the porches of the sacred courts.

For sheep that are full of scab and laden with disease ought not to herd with the healthy, but to be driven from the flock until they have laid aside the disease.

For we have become members of Christ;

let us not, then, become members of a harlot.

This place is not a brothel, but a church.

But if you have the members of a harlot, do not stand in the church, lest you outrage the place.

For even if there were no hell, even if there were no punishment, after those covenants and the marriage torches, after the lawful bed, after the begetting of children, after the fellowship, how will you bear to cleave to another woman? How are you not ashamed, nor do you blush? Do you not know that those who bring in a second wife after the death of their own are condemned by many, and yet the matter has no punishment? But you bring in another woman while she is still living.

And of how great licentiousness are not these things full? Learn what has been said concerning such men:

Their worm, he says, shall not die, and the fire shall not be quenched.

Shudder at the threat, fear the punishment.

The pleasure here is not so great as the torment there.

But may it not be that any of you become liable to that punishment;

but rather, practicing holiness, may we see Christ, and attain the good things that have been promised;

which may it be granted us all to enjoy, 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. Amen.