Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 22

'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow;

and I say unto you, that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of these.'

Having spoken concerning necessary food, and having shown that not even for this ought we to take anxious thought, He passes on next to that which is lighter still.

For clothing is not so necessary as food.

Why then does He not here also use the same illustration of the birds, nor speak to us of the peacock, the swan, and the sheep? For there were many such examples to be taken from that quarter.

It is because He wishes to show the surpassing greatness on both sides: both from the meanness of the things that partake of such comeliness, and from the lavish splendour of the adornment bestowed upon the lilies.

having fashioned them, He no longer even calls them lilies, but grass of the field.

And He is not content with this name, but adds yet another mark of meanness, saying that it is here today.

And He did not say, 'tomorrow being no more,' but something far lowlier still.

And He did not say, 'clothes it,' but, 'so clothes it.'

Do you see everywhere how many are the hyperboles and the emphases? He does this in order to strike home to them;

and for this very reason He added:

'Shall He not much more clothe you?' For this too carries great force of meaning.

For the word 'you' is nothing other than a hint at the great preciousness and the exceeding worth of the race;

as though He said, 'You, to whom He gave a soul, for whom He fashioned a body, for whose sake He made all things visible, for whose sake He sent prophets, and gave the Law, and wrought countless good things;

for whose sake He gave up His only-begotten Son.'

And when He had demonstrated this clearly, then also He rebukes, saying:

For such is the way of one who counsels:

he does not merely exhort, but also rebukes, that he may rouse them the more to be persuaded by what is said.

By these words He teaches us not only not to be anxious, but not even to be dazzled by the costliness of garments.

For the comeliness belongs to a green shoot, and the beauty to a blade of grass;

or rather, the grass is even more honourable than such a robe.

Why then are you high-minded over things in which the grass, with much to spare, carries off the prize? And see how from the very outset He shows the command to be light, again leading them away from the contrary things and from the very things they fear.

For having said, 'Consider the lilies of the field,' He added, 'They toil not.'

So that it was because He wished to free us from toils that He gave these commands.

It is not, then, the not being anxious about these things that is toil, but the being anxious.

And just as, when He said, 'They sow not,' He did not do away with sowing but with anxiety,

so too, when He said, 'They toil not, neither do they spin,' He did not abolish work, but anxious care.

But if Solomon was surpassed by their beauty—and not once nor twice, but throughout the whole of his reign—

(for no one can say that at one time he arrayed himself thus, but afterward no longer; nay, not even on a single day did he so adorn himself;

for this He made plain when He said, 'In all his glory')—

and he was not merely surpassed by this one bloom while rivalling another, but yielded to them all together;

(wherefore He also said, 'As one of these';

for as great as is the distance between truth and falsehood, so great is that between those royal garments and these blossoms)—if then that king, more resplendent than all kings who ever were, confessed his defeat, when could you ever prevail, or rather even come a little near to such loveliness? From this He teaches us not to desire such adornment at all.

After its victory it is cast into the oven.

But if upon things cheap and worthless, that serve but a passing need, God bestowed such forethought, how shall He forsake you, the living creature that is most necessary of all? For what reason, then, did He make them so beautiful? That He might display His own wisdom and the abundance of His power, that from every side we might learn His glory.

For not the heavens alone declare the glory of God, but the earth also;

and this David made plain when he said,

'Praise the Lord, ye fruitful trees and all cedars.'

For some send up praise to their Maker through their fruit, others through their greatness, others through their beauty.

For this too is a sign of great abundance of wisdom, when even upon things exceedingly cheap—for what is cheaper than that which is today and tomorrow is not?—He pours out so much beauty.

If then to the grass He has given what is not needful—for what does its beauty contribute to feeding the fire?—how shall He not give you what is needful? If He has adorned lavishly the meanest of all things, and that not for use but for magnificence,

much more will He honour you, who are more precious than all, in the things pertaining to need. Second.

Since, therefore, He had shown that God's providence is great, and it was fitting now to rebuke them, here also He uses gentleness, charging them not with unbelief but with little faith.

'For if the grass of the field,'

He says, 'God so clothes,'

'much more shall He clothe you, O ye of little faith.'

And yet all these things He Himself works;

for all things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made;

yet nowhere as yet does He make mention of Himself.

For it sufficed for the present to show His authority, that He said in each of the commandments:

'Ye have heard that it was said to them of old time.'

Marvel not, therefore, when in what follows He also hides Himself, or speaks something lowly concerning Himself.

For one thing He was earnest about for the present: that His word should be readily received by them, and that through all things He might show that He was no adversary of God, but of one mind and in agreement with the Father.

For having spent so many words, He continually sets Him in the midst, marvelling at His wisdom, His providence, His care that reaches through all things, both the great and the small.

For indeed, when He spoke of Jerusalem, He called it the city of the great King;

and when He made mention of heaven, He named it again the throne of God;

and when He discoursed concerning the ordering of the world, He again refers the whole to Him, saying:

'He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust.'

And in the prayer too He taught them to say that, 'His is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory.'

And here too, discoursing concerning His providence and showing how even in small things He is a consummate craftsman, He says that 'He clothes the grass of the field.'

And nowhere does He call Him His own Father, but theirs, that both by the honour He might take hold of them, and that, when He should call Him His own Father, they might no longer be displeased.

But if concerning bare necessities we must not be anxious, of what pardon would they be worthy who are anxious about costly things? Or rather, of what pardon would they be worthy who do not even sleep, that they may seize what belongs to others? 'Be not therefore anxious, saying,'

'What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be clothed?' For after all these things do the Gentiles of the world seek.

Didst thou see how again He shamed them yet more greatly, and made plain that He had laid upon them nothing burdensome nor grievous? As, therefore, when He said,

'If ye love them that love you, ye do nothing great;

for even the heathen do the same';

from the recollection of the heathen He roused them to what is greater;

so also now He brings those men into the midst, taking hold of them and showing that He demands of us a debt which is necessary.

For if we must display more than the scribes and Pharisees, of what should we be worthy, we who not only do not surpass them, but even abide in the meanness of the heathen and emulate their pettiness of soul? Yet He did not stop at rebuke, but, having taken hold of them from this, and roused them, and shamed them with all excess, He also exhorts them from another side, saying:

'For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.'

He said not, 'God knoweth,' but, 'The Father knoweth,' so as to lead them into a greater hope.

For if He is a Father, and such a Father, He will not be able to overlook His sons when they are in the utmost evils;

seeing that not even men, being fathers, endure this.

And with this He again adds yet another consideration.

What kind is this? That ye have need of them.

Are these things then superfluous, that He should despise them? And yet not even in the superfluous did He despise, in the case of the grass;

but now they are even necessary.

So that what thou reckonest to be the cause of thy anxiety, this I declare to be sufficient to lead thee away from that anxiety.

For if thou shouldst say, 'For this reason I must be anxious, because these things are necessary,' I say the opposite: that for this very reason be not anxious, seeing they are necessary.

For if they were superfluous, not even so ought one to despair, but to take courage concerning their supply;

but since they are necessary, one ought no longer to doubt.

For what manner of father is he who endures not to provide even necessaries for his children? So that for this cause also God will assuredly provide.

For He Himself is the Creator of our nature, and He Himself knows with exactness its need.

For neither couldst thou say this: that He is indeed a Father, and the things sought are necessary, but that He is ignorant that we stand in need of them.

For He who knows the nature itself, and is its Creator,

having come to be its Maker, and having so fashioned it, plainly knows also its need better than thou who standest in need of these things.

For it also seemed good to Him that it should be in such need.

He will not, then, oppose what He willed, having established it in the necessity of so great a need, and yet again depriving it of that need and of necessaries.

for nothing more will accrue to us than to wear ourselves out.

For when, whether we are anxious or not anxious, He provides—and rather when we are not anxious—what more comes to thee from thy worry than to exact of thyself a superfluous penalty? For neither would one who is about to go to a lavish banquet endure to be anxious about food;

neither does one who walks to a fountain take thought about drinking.

Let us, therefore, not do so either—we who have God's providence for our supply, more abundant than any fountain and than ten thousand banquets made ready; let us not be beggarly, nor be faint of soul.

For besides the things already said, He again sets down yet another consideration for taking courage concerning such things, saying:

'Seek ye the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you.'

For when He had released the soul from anxiety, then also He made mention of the heavens.

For He came both to dissolve the old order and to call us to a greater fatherland.

For this reason He does all things, that He may free us from what is superfluous, and from our attachment to the earth.

For this reason too He made mention of the heathen, saying that the Gentiles seek after these things—those whose every toil is for the present life, who have no concern for the things to come, nor any thought of the heavens.

But for you these are not the chief things; rather, others are.

For we were not brought into being for this, that we should eat and drink and clothe ourselves,

but that we should please God, and attain the good things to come.

As therefore in our earnest pursuit these things are but a secondary matter, so also in our asking let them be but a secondary matter.

"Seek the kingdom of the heavens, and all these things shall be added unto you."

And He did not say, "They shall be given," but, "They shall be added," that you may learn that the present things are nothing great compared with the greatness of the things to come.

For this very reason He does not even bid us ask for them, but to ask for other things, while being confident that these too will be added to those.

Seek then the things to come, and you shall receive the present things also;

seek not the things that are seen, and you shall assuredly obtain them.

For indeed it is unworthy of you to approach the Master concerning such things.

For you who ought to expend all your earnestness and care upon those unspeakable good things, greatly shame yourself when you squander it upon the desire for fleeting matters.

Did He not bid us ask for bread? Yet He added, "our daily bread," and to this again the word "today";

which very thing He does here also.

For He did not say, "Take no thought";

but, "Take no thought for the morrow";

at once both granting us freedom, and fastening our soul to the things that are more necessary.

For He bade us ask even for those things on this account—not as though God needed to be reminded by us, but that we might learn that whatever good we accomplish, we accomplish it with His help, and that we might be made familiar with the continual asking concerning these things.

Do you see how from this too He persuaded them that they shall assuredly receive the present things? For He who bestows the greater will much more give the lesser.

"For not for this reason," He says, "did I bid you take no thought, nor ask, that you should be in misery and go about naked, but that you might have these things also in abundance";

which indeed of all things was most able to draw them on.

As therefore in the matter of almsgiving, while turning them away from making a display before men, He especially prevailed by this means,

namely, by promising to bestow it upon them with greater honour;

(for "Your Father," He says, "who sees in secret, shall reward you openly";) so here also, in drawing them away from seeking these things, He especially persuades them by this—by promising to those who seek them not to bestow them with greater abundance.

"For it is on this account," He says, "that I bid you not to seek—not that you should not receive, but that you should receive plentifully;

that you should receive it in the manner befitting you, with the profit that is suited to you;

that you may not, by being torn apart into anxiety over these things, render yourself unworthy both of them and of the spiritual things;

that you may not endure needless misery, and fall away again from that which is set before you."

"Take therefore no thought for the morrow."

"For sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof";

that is to say, the misery, the affliction.

Is it not enough for you to eat your bread in the sweat of your face? Why do you add yet another misery, that which comes from anxiety, when you are moreover destined to be released even from your former toils? IV.

By "evil" here He means, not wickedness—God forbid—but the misery, the toil, and the calamities;

just as also in another place He says:

"Is there evil in a city, which the Lord has not made?"—not meaning robberies, nor acts of greed, nor any other such thing, but the blows that are brought down from above.

And again, "I," He says, "make peace and create evil."

For neither here does He mean wickedness, but the famines and the pestilences, the things that are reputed to be evils among the many.

For it is customary with the many to call these things evils.

So then, even the priests and diviners of those five satrapies, when they had yoked the cows to the ark and let them go on their way apart from their calves, called those God-sent plagues an 'evil,' and likewise the despondency and anguish that arose in them from these things.

This, then, is also what He signifies here when He says:

'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'

For nothing so pains the soul as anxiety and care.

So too Paul, when leading toward virginity, counselled thus, saying:

'I would have you to be without anxiety.'

But when He says that 'the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself,' He does not say this as though the day itself takes thought for these things; rather, since His discourse was addressed to a rather unformed populace, wishing to make what He said more vivid, He personifies the appointed time, speaking to them according to the common manner of ordinary people.

And here indeed He counsels, but as He proceeds He even lays it down as law, saying:

'Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor scrip for your journey.'

For since He had displayed these things by His works, then at last He also introduces the more stringent legislation that comes through words, at the very time when the discourse had become easy to accept, having first been confirmed by His own works.

Where, then, did He show it through His works? Hear Him as He says:

'But the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head.'

And He is not content with this alone, but also furnishes the proof of these things in His disciples, having fashioned them likewise, and not permitting them to stand in need of anything.

Consider too His tender care, how it surpasses the affection of any father.

'For I command this,' He says, 'for no other reason than that I may free you from superfluous cares.'

For even if today you take thought for the morrow, tomorrow you will take thought again.

What, then, is the superfluous part? Why do you force the day to bear more than the hardship allotted to it, and, besides its own toils, add to it the burden of the coming day as well — and that though you are in no way about to lighten the other day by the addition thus made, but only to display a covetous excess of superfluous toils? For, that He may lay hold of them more forcibly, He all but ensouls the appointed time itself and brings it in as one wronged, crying out against them because of the superfluous outrage.

'For indeed you have received the day, that you might take thought for its own concerns.'

'Why then do you add to it the concerns of another day as well? Has it not already a burden enough in its own care? Why then do you weigh it down still more heavily?' And when the Lawgiver says these things — He who is also to be our Judge — consider how kindly He holds out good hopes to us, when He Himself testifies that this life is wretched and full of toil, so that even the care of a single day suffices to afflict and crush us.

Yet, for all that so many and so weighty things have been said, we take thought for these things, but for the things in the heavens no longer; rather, we have reversed the order, fighting against what is said from both sides.

'Seek not the present things at all,' He says;

but we seek these things continually.

'Seek the heavenly things,' He says;

but we do not seek those things for even a short hour, but as much

care as we display for the concerns of this life, so great is the negligence we have in the things of the Spirit — nay, rather, much greater.

But these things do not always go forward, nor are these things always possible.

Behold, for ten days we scorn it; behold, for twenty; behold, for a hundred!

Is it not utterly necessary to depart, and to fall into the hands of the Judge? 'But the delay has its consolation.'

And what kind of consolation is it, to expect chastisement and punishment day by day? For if you wish to receive some consolation from this delay, receive it by reaping amendment from repentance.

For even if you consider the deferral of the punishment to be some relief, much more is it a gain not to fall into the punishment at all.

Let us therefore make good use of this respite that we may be entirely delivered from the evils that press upon us.

For nothing that is enjoined upon us is burdensome or grievous;

but all things are so easy and simple that, by bringing to it only a sincere resolve, we are able to accomplish everything, even were we answerable for ten thousand transgressions.

For Manasseh too had dared countless defilements;

for he stretched out his hands against the saints, and brought abominations into the temple, and filled the city with murders, and wrought many other things beyond pardon;

yet nevertheless, after so great and so heinous a lawlessness, he washed away all those things.

How, and in what manner? By repentance and resolve.

For there is not, there is not any sin that does not yield and give way to the power of repentance, or rather to the grace of Christ.

For if only we will change, we have Him laying hold together with us;

and if you will to become good, there is none to hinder you;

or rather there is one who hinders, the devil, yet he has no strength, when you choose what is best and thereby draw God to your aid.

But if you are unwilling, and leap away, how shall He champion you? For He wills to save you, not by necessity and force, but willingly.

For if you yourself, having a servant who hates and turns away from you, and continually leaps off and flees, would not choose to keep him, even though you had need of his service;

much more will God, who does all things not for His own need but for your salvation, not choose to hold you by force;

just as, then, if you display but a resolve, He would never choose to cast you off, whatever the devil may do.

So that we ourselves are the cause of our own destruction.

For we neither draw near to Him, nor make our petition, nor entreat Him as we ought;

but even if we do draw near, we do this not as those who owe it to themselves to receive, nor with the fitting faith, nor as those demanding our due, but we do all things yawning and slumped down.

And yet God wills to be dunned by us, and is very grateful to you for it.

For this alone is the debtor who, when he is dunned, is grateful, and gives what we did not lend.

And if He sees the one who duns Him pressing vehemently, He pays down even what He did not receive from us;

but if slackly, He too defers, not because He is unwilling to give, but because He gladly takes to be dunned by us.

For this reason He also told you the parable of that friend who came by night and asked for bread, and of the judge who neither feared God nor regarded men.

And He did not stop at the examples, but showed it also in the very deeds themselves, when He filled that Phoenician woman with the great gift and sent her away.

For through her He showed that even to those who dun Him vehemently He gives what does not belong to them.

For it is not good, He says, to take the children's bread and to give it to the little dogs;

yet nevertheless He gave it, because she dunned Him vehemently.

But through the Jews He made clear that to those who are slothful He does not give even what is their own.

Accordingly, they received nothing, but lost even what was their own.

And these, because they did not ask, received not even their own;

but she, because she pressed vehemently, was strong enough to lay claim even to what belonged to another, and the little dog took what belonged to the children.

So great a good is perseverance.

For even if you are a dog, by persevering you shall be preferred to a child that is slothful;

friendship accomplishes much, but perseverance accomplished as much.

Do not, then, say, 'God is my enemy, and He will not hearken to me.'

He answers you at once when you importune Him unceasingly;

even if not because you are a friend, yet because of your persevering;

and neither enmity, nor unseasonableness, nor anything else becomes a hindrance.

Do not say, 'I am not worthy, and so I do not pray';

for the Syrophoenician woman too was such a one.

Do not say, 'I have sinned much, and I cannot entreat Him who is angered';

for God looks not to worthiness, but to the resolve.

For if the widow bent the ruler who neither feared God nor was ashamed before men,

much more will unceasing entreaty draw over the good One.

So that even if you are not a friend, even if you are not demanding what is owed, even if you have devoured your patrimony and been long out of sight, even if you are dishonored, even if you are the last of all, even if you come to Him while He is angry, while He is indignant;

only will to pray and to return, and you shall receive back all things, and shall quench His wrath and the sentence of condemnation at once.

'But behold,' one says, 'I pray, and nothing more comes of it.'

That is because you do not pray as those did;

I mean, for instance, the Syrophoenician woman, and the friend who came at an unseasonable hour, and the widow who continually troubled the judge, and the son who squandered his patrimony.

For if you had prayed in this way, you would have obtained speedily.

For even if He has been insulted, He is a Father;

and even if He is angered, He is a lover of His children;

and He seeks one thing only, not to exact a penalty for the insults, but to see you repentant and entreating Him.

Would that we too were so warmed toward the love of Him, as those bowels of His are stirred up toward love of us.

But this fire seeks only an occasion;

and if you supply it but a little spark, you kindle an entire flame of beneficence.

For He is not indignant because He has been insulted, but because you are the one who insults, and by this becomes as a drunkard.

For if we, being evil, when our children insult us, still grieve on their behalf, much more does God, who cannot even be insulted, feel indignation on behalf of you who insult Him.

If we who love by nature do so, much more He whose tender affection is above nature.

For even if a woman should forget, He says, the children of her womb, yet I will not forget you.

Let us therefore draw near to Him and say:

for even the little dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from the table of their masters.

Let us draw near in season, out of season;

or rather, it is never out of season to draw near;

for it is out of season not to come continually.

For with Him who desires to give, it is always seasonable to ask.

For just as to breathe is never out of season, so neither is it to ask, but rather not to ask is out of season.

For just as we have need of this breathing, so also of the help that comes from Him;

and if we will, we shall easily draw Him to us.

And making this clear, and showing the ever-ready nature of His beneficence, the prophet said:

We shall find Him ready as the dawn.

For as often as we draw near, we shall see Him awaiting what comes from us.

But if we draw nothing from the virtue that gushes forth from Him, the whole blame is our own.

This, at any rate, is what He also said in accusing the Jews:

'But My mercy is as a morning cloud, and as the early dew that passeth away.'

And what He means is this:

I indeed provided all that was on My part;

but you, just as the hot sun coming upon both cloud and dew scatters and hides them away, so by your great wickedness have you checked My unspeakable bounty.

Yet this very thing is again a mark of His providence.

For when He sees us unworthy of receiving good, He withholds His benefits, that He may not make us slothful.

But if we change even a little, and but so much as to acknowledge that we have sinned, He wells up beyond the fountains, He pours forth beyond the sea;

and the more you receive, the more does He rejoice;

and by this He is again stirred up to give yet more.

For indeed He accounts our salvation His own proper wealth, and the giving lavishly to those who ask;

which very thing Paul also declared, saying:

'Being rich unto all and upon all that call upon Him.'

For when we do not ask, then is He angered;

For this cause He became poor, that He might make us rich;

for this cause too He endured all those things, that He might call us forth to ask.

But having so many occasions and good hopes, even though we sin every day, let us draw near, entreating, beseeching, asking the forgiveness of our transgressions.

For thus shall we be more reluctant to sin thereafter, and shall drive away the devil, and shall call forth God's love toward mankind, and shall attain the good things to come, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might unto the ages of ages.