Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 38

At that season Jesus answered and said:

'I confess to You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and have revealed them unto babes.'

'Yes, Father, for so it was well-pleasing in Your sight.'

Do you see through how many things He leads them to faith? First, through the praises of John.

For by showing him to be great and wonderful, He rendered all that came from him worthy of credit, through which He drew them to the knowledge of Himself.

Second, by saying, 'The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force';

for this is the language of One who urges and impels.

Third, by showing that all the prophets were brought to completion;

for this too made clear that He was the very One foretold through them.

Fourth, by showing that all things which ought to have come to pass through Him have all come to pass, when He also made mention of the parable of the children.

Fifth, by reproaching those who did not believe, and by alarming and threatening them severely.

Sixth, by giving thanks for those who had believed.

For the phrase 'I confess to You' here means 'I give thanks';

'I give thanks,' He says, 'that You have hidden these things from the wise and prudent.'

What then? Does He rejoice at their destruction, and because those men did not learn these things? By no means;

rather, this is the best way of salvation—not to force those who spurn and are unwilling to receive the things spoken;

so that, since they became no better by being called, but drew back and despised, they might, by being cast out, fall into a desire for these things.

For thus also those who gave heed were likely to become more earnest.

For that these things were revealed to these was a cause for joy;

but that they were hidden from those others was no longer a cause for joy, but for tears.

This indeed He also does, weeping over the city.

It is not, therefore, for this reason that He rejoices, but because what the wise did not know, these came to know.

'I give thanks to God, that whereas you were servants of sin, you obeyed from the heart that form of teaching to which you were delivered.'

Neither, then, does Paul rejoice on this account—that they were servants of sin—but because, being such, they came to enjoy such blessings.

And by 'the wise' here He means the scribes and the Pharisees.

And He says these things to make the disciples more zealous, and to show of what things the fishermen were counted worthy, from which all those others had fallen away.

In saying 'the wise,' He does not mean the true and praiseworthy wisdom, but that which they thought they had from their cleverness (for this reason neither did He say, 'You have revealed them to fools,' but 'to babes,'

that is, 'to the unfeigned,' He says, 'to the simple'); and He shows that these men not only did not enjoy these things undeservedly, but even according to reason;

and through all this He instructs us to be rid of arrogance, and to be zealous for simplicity.

For this reason Paul too said the very same thing with even greater emphasis, writing thus:

'If any man among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool, that he may become wise.'

For thus is the grace of God made manifest.

But why does He give thanks to the Father, seeing that He Himself did this? Just as He prays and intercedes with God, displaying His great love toward us, so also He does this;

for this too is a mark of much love;

and He shows that they fell away not from Himself only, but also from the Father.

For what He said to the disciples, saying, 'Cast not the holy things to the dogs,' this He Himself did beforehand.

Then from these things He shows both His own antecedent will and that of the Father;

His own, indeed, by giving thanks and rejoicing over what had come to pass;

and the Father's, by showing that not even He did this because entreated, but because He Himself was moved of His own accord;

'For so,' He says, 'was it well-pleasing in Your sight';

that is, 'So it pleased You.'

And why was it hidden from those men? Hear Paul when he says that, 'Seeking to establish their own righteousness, they did not submit themselves to the righteousness of God.'

Consider, then, what the disciples would naturally feel on hearing these things: that what the wise did not know, these men did know;

and they knew it while remaining as babes, and they knew it because God revealed it.

And Luke says that in that very hour, when the seventy came back reporting concerning the demons, then He rejoiced and spoke these words, which, besides making them more earnest, also prepared them to be modest.

For since it was likely that they would be highly elated at driving out the demons, from this too He restrains them.

For what took place was a revelation, not any diligence of theirs.

Wherefore also the scribes and the wise, thinking themselves to be intelligent in their own conceit, fell away through their own pride.

If, then, it was for this reason that it was hidden from them, fear, He says, you also, and remain as babes.

For this is what made you enjoy the revelation, just as the contrary made those men be deprived of it.

For neither, when He says, 'Thou hast hidden,' does He affirm that the whole is God's doing;

but just as when Paul says that He gave them up to a reprobate mind, and blinded their understandings, he does not mean by this that God is the one who works these things, but rather those who furnish the cause;

so also here He says the word, 'Thou hast hidden.'

For since He had said, 'I thank Thee, that Thou hast hidden these things, and hast revealed them unto babes,' lest you should suppose that He gives thanks in this way as though He Himself were deprived of this power, and unable to accomplish it, He says:

'All things have been delivered unto Me by My Father.'

And to those who rejoiced that the demons were subject to them, He says, Why do you marvel that demons yield to you? All things are Mine, 'All things have been delivered unto Me.'

But when you hear, 'have been delivered,' suspect nothing human;

for it was that you might not think there are two unbegotten Gods that He set down this expression.

Since that at the same moment He was begotten He was also Lord of all, He shows from many places and in many ways.

Then He says something even greater than this, setting your understanding upright:

'And no one knows the Son, except the Father;

neither does anyone fully know the Father, except the Son.'

And to those who do not understand it, it seems disconnected from what precedes; yet it has much that is in harmony with it.

For since He had said, 'All things have been delivered unto Me by My Father,' He adds:

And what wonder is it, He says, if I am Lord of all, seeing that I possess something else even greater — to know the Father, and to be of the same essence? For this too He indicates covertly, from the fact that He alone thus knows Him.

For when He says, 'No one knows the Father, except the Son,' this is what He means.

When by His works they received the proof of His power, not only having seen Him work wonders, but themselves also having been able to do so many things in His name.

Then, since He had said, 'Thou hast revealed them unto babes,' He shows that this too is His own doing:

For neither does anyone fully know the Father, He says, except the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son wills to reveal Him;

not to whomsoever He may be commanded, nor to whomsoever He may be ordered.

And if He reveals the Father, He reveals Himself also.

But this He left as a thing already agreed upon;

and everywhere He says this, as when He says:

'No one can come to the Father, except through Me.'

And through these words He establishes yet another point, namely that He is in accord and of one mind with Him.

For so far, He says, am I from contending and warring against Him, that it is not even possible for anyone to come to Him, except through Me.

For since this above all was a stumbling-block to them — His seeming to be a rival of God — He does away with it through all these things, and was earnest about this no less than about the signs, but even much more.

'Neither does anyone fully know the Father, except the Son' — He does not mean by this that all were ignorant of Him, but that the knowledge wherewith He Himself knows Him, no one possesses;

which may be said of the Son also.

For neither was it concerning some unknown God, one who had become known to no one, that He was saying these things, as Marcion affirms, but He was here darkly hinting at the exact knowledge;

nor do we know the Son as we ought to know Him;

and this very thing Paul was declaring when he said:

'We know in part, and we prophesy in part.'

Then, having through these words brought them to a longing desire, and having shown His unspeakable power, He then calls them, saying:

'Come unto Me, all you that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'

Not this one and that one, but all who are in cares, who are in sorrows, who are in sins.

Come, not that I may exact an accounting, but that I may loose your sins.

Come, not because I have need of your glory, but because I have need of your salvation.

For I, He says, will give you rest.

and even that which was far more, 'I will establish you in all security.'

'Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, that I am meek and lowly in heart;

and you shall find rest unto your souls.'

'For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'

For fear not, He says, on hearing of a yoke;

be not afraid, because I said 'a burden;'

Is the gate strait, and the way narrow? It is so when you are slothful, when you have fallen back;

for if you accomplish the things spoken, the burden will be light;

wherefore now also He called it such.

And how is it accomplished? If you become lowly and meek and forbearing.

For this virtue is the mother of all true wisdom.

Wherefore also, when beginning those divine laws, He began from this point.

And here again He does this same thing, and sets down the greatest of prizes.

For you become useful not only to another, but you also give rest to yourself before all others, He says.

For you shall find rest unto your souls.

And even before the things to come, He gives you the recompense here, and already bestows the prize; and by this, and by setting Himself forth as an example in the midst, He makes the saying easy to receive.

Are you afraid you will be lessened by being lowly? Look upon Me, and upon all that is Mine;

learn from Me, and then you shall know clearly how great is the good.

Do you see how through all things He leads them on to lowliness of mind? From the things which He Himself did:

For learn from Me, He says, that I am meek;

and from the things whereby they themselves are about to gain profit:

For you shall find, He says, rest unto your souls.

'For I,' He says, 'will give you rest.'

By these words He rendered it light;

for 'My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'

So too does Paul, when he says:

'For our present light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.'

And how, one asks, is the burden light, when He says:

'Unless a man hate father and mother';

and, 'Whoever does not take up his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me';

and, 'Whoever does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple';

when He commands us to surrender up our very life? Let Paul teach you, saying:

'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?' And that, 'The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.'

Let those who returned from the council of the Jews after countless scourgings teach you, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to be dishonored for the name of Christ.

But if you still fear and shudder at hearing of the yoke and the burden, the fear springs not from the nature of the matter, but from your own slothfulness;

for if you are prepared and full of eagerness, all things will be easy and light for you.

For this reason Christ too, showing that we ourselves must also labor, did not speak of the pleasant things only and then keep silent, nor of the burdensome things only, but set forth both.

For He both spoke of a yoke and called it easy;

and He named it a burden, yet added that it is light;

so that you might neither flee it as toilsome, nor despise it as exceedingly easy.

But if even after all this virtue seems difficult to you, consider that vice is yet more difficult;

which very thing He also intimated, when He did not first say, 'Take My yoke,' but first, 'Come unto Me, all you that labor and are heavy laden,' thereby showing that sin too has toil, and a burden heavy and hard to bear.

For He did not say merely 'Laboring,' but also 'Heavy laden.'

This the Prophet also declared, when he depicted its nature:

'They are gone over my head as a heavy burden.'

And Zechariah too, in portraying it, says that it is a talent of lead.

And this experience itself demonstrates.

For nothing so weighs down the soul, [nothing so maims the understanding] and presses it down, as the consciousness of sin;

and nothing so gives wings and lifts one up as the possession of righteousness and virtue.

What is more burdensome, tell me, than to possess nothing? than to turn the cheek, and, being struck, not to strike back? than to die a violent death? And yet, if we practice true wisdom, all these things are light and easy and productive of pleasure.

But do not be dismayed; rather let us take each of these in hand and examine it with exactness;

and, if you please, first that which even to many seems toilsome.

Which then, tell me, is heavy and grievous: to care for one belly, or to be anxious for countless things? to be clothed with one garment and seek nothing more, or to have much within and every day and night to be worn out with grief, fearing, trembling over its safekeeping, pained and choked over the loss, lest it become moth-eaten, lest a servant carry it off and depart? Yet however much I may say, no words can set the matter before you as the actual experience of these things does.

Therefore I could wish that one of those who have attained to that summit of true wisdom were present with us, and then you would plainly see the pleasure of the thing;

and how not one of those lovers of poverty would ever accept wealth, though countless riches were offered them.

But would these ever consent, one says, to become poor, and to cast away the cares that they have? And what of that? For this is a proof of their folly and of their grievous disease, not of the thing being other than most delightful.

And this these very men would testify to us—they who day by day bewail themselves over these cares, and count their life not worth living.

But not so those others; rather they laugh and leap for joy, and pride themselves more on their poverty than those who wear the diadem.

Again, to turn the cheek is lighter than to strike another, for him who gives heed;

for in the one case the war takes its beginning, but in the other its dissolution;

and by the one you have kindled another's fire as well, but by the other you have quenched even your own flame.

And that not to burn is more pleasant than to burn is surely plain to everyone.

And if this is so in the case of bodies, much more in the case of the soul.

And which is lighter: to contend, or to be crowned? to box, or to hold the prize? and to endure the waves, or to put in to harbor? Therefore even to die is better than to live.

For the one leads us out of the storms and perils;

but the other adds to them, and makes one liable to countless plots and constraints, on account of which you counted life not worth living.

But if you disbelieve what is said, hear those who beheld the faces of the martyrs in the hour of their contests, how, though scourged and torn, they were full of joy and radiant, and being laid upon frying-pans rejoiced and were glad more than those reclining upon beds of roses.

Therefore Paul also said, when he was about to depart hence and to end his life by a violent death:

'I joy, and rejoice with you all;

and in the same manner do you also joy and rejoice with me.'

Do you see with what exceeding earnestness he calls the whole world to the fellowship of his gladness? So great a good did he know his departure hence to be;

so desirable did he know death, so fearful to others, to be, and so lovely and worthy of prayer.

But that the yoke of virtue is sweet and light is plain from many other things as well;

and now, if it seems good, let us also look at the burdens of sin.

Let us then bring into our midst the covetous, the hucksters and petty traffickers of shameless contracts.

What then could be more burdensome than such a business? How many sorrows, how many cares, how many collisions, how many perils, how many plots and wars spring up day by day for these gains? How many tumults and disturbances? For as it is impossible ever to see the sea without waves, so neither such a soul without care and despondency and fear and disturbance; but the former things

are overtaken by the second, and again others come upon them, and while these are not yet ceasing, still others rise to their height.

But would you see the souls of the abusive and the wrathful? And what is worse than this torment? What worse than the wounds they carry within? What worse than the furnace ever burning, and the flame never quenched? Or the souls of those who love the body and are glued fast to this present life? And what is more grievous than this slavery? They live the life of Cain, dwelling in perpetual trembling and fear, at each one who dies—rather, at the death of those who belong to such men—bewailing their own end.

And what is more full of tumult and more frenzied than the puffed up? 'Learn of Me,' He says, 'for I am meek and lowly in heart, and you shall find rest for your souls.'

For patient endurance of evil is the mother of all good things.

Therefore do not fear, nor leap away from the yoke that lightens you of all these things, but come beneath it with all eagerness, and then you shall know clearly its pleasure.

For it does not chafe your neck, but is laid upon it only for the sake of good order, and to persuade you to walk in seemly fashion, and to bring you to the royal road, and to deliver you from the precipices on either side, and to make you tread the narrow way with ease.

Since then its blessings are so many, so great its security, so great its gladness, let us with all our soul, with all diligence, draw this yoke;

that both here we may find rest for our souls, and may attain the good things to come, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.