Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 62

Then came Peter to Him and said:

'Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?' Jesus saith unto him, 'I say not unto thee, Until seven times, but, Until seventy times seven.'

Peter thought he was saying something great;

wherefore, as though seeking a favour, he added, 'Till seven times?' For, he says, this which Thou hast commanded to do — how often shall I do it? For if he sin continually, yet, being reproved, continually repent, how often dost Thou bid us bear with him? For upon that man who does not repent, nor condemn himself, Thou hast set a limit, saying, 'Let him be unto thee as the heathen and the publican;'

but concerning this man Thou hast set no such limit; rather Thou hast bidden that he be received.

How often then ought I to bear with him when he is reproved and repents? Does seven times suffice? What then says Christ, the God who loves mankind and is good? 'I say not unto thee, Until seven times, but, Until seventy times seven.'

He does not here set down a number, but rather that which is boundless and perpetual and forever.

For just as 'ten thousand times' signifies 'many times,' so also is it here.

For indeed the saying, 'The barren hath borne seven,' the Scripture uses to mean 'many.'

So that He did not shut up forgiveness within a number, but made plain that it is perpetual and forever.

This, at any rate, He also showed by the parable which follows next.

For lest it should seem to some that He was enjoining great and burdensome things in saying 'Seventy times seven,' He added this parable, at once leading them on to what He had said, and putting down him who is high-minded on this account, and showing that the matter is not grievous, but even exceedingly easy.

For this reason He brought His own loving-kindness into the midst, that by the comparison, He says, thou mightest learn that even if thou forgive seventy times seven, even if thou continually and without exception pardon thy neighbour all his sins, thy loving-kindness falls as far short of the boundless goodness of God—nay, far more short—as a drop of water falls short of the boundless sea; that goodness of God whereof thou standest in need, being about to be judged and to render account.

'The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a certain king, who would take account with his servants.'

'And when he had begun to reckon, there was brought unto him one debtor of ten thousand talents.'

'But forasmuch as he had not wherewith to pay, he commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and his children, and all that he had.'

Then, after this man had enjoyed such loving-kindness, going out, he seized by the throat a fellow-servant who owed him a hundred pence;

and having stirred up the master by these things, he brought it about that he was cast into prison again, until he should pay all.

Seest thou how great is the difference between sins against man and sins against God? As great as is the difference between ten thousand talents and a hundred pence;

nay rather, far greater still.

And this comes to pass both from the difference of the persons, and from the continuance of the sins.

For when a man is looking on, we both refrain and are reluctant to sin;

but though God beholds us every day, we do not hold back, but even do all things without fear, and utter them boldly.

And not from this only, but also from the benefit and from the honour which we have enjoyed, our sins become more grievous.

And if ye are willing to learn how our sins against Him are ten thousand talents, nay, even far more, I will endeavour to show it in few words.

But I am afraid lest to those who incline toward wickedness and love to sin continually I should afford greater license, or lest I cast the more reasonable into despair, and they say the word of the disciples:

'Who then can be saved?' Nevertheless, even so will I speak, that I may render those who give heed more secure and more reasonable.

For those who are incurably diseased and past feeling, even apart from these words, do not depart from their own sloth and wickedness;

and if from this they should take a greater occasion for carelessness, the fault is not in the things spoken, but in their own insensibility;

seeing that the things spoken are able rather both to restrain and to prick the hearts of those who give heed.

And the more reasonable, when they behold the magnitude of their sins, and learn also the power of repentance, will cleave to it the more.

I will speak, then, and will set forth our sins, both those wherein we offend against God, and those against men;

and I will set forth not the private sins, but the common;

and as for the private sins, let each one for the rest add them from his own conscience.

And I will do this, having first set forth the benefits of God.

He made us when we were not, and for our sake He wrought all these things that are seen—heaven, sea, earth, air, and all that is in them, living creatures, plants, seeds;

for one must cut short the account, because of the boundless sea of His works.

To us alone of the things on earth He breathed in such a living soul, He planted a paradise, He gave a helper, He set us over all the irrational creatures, He crowned us with glory and honour.

And after this, when man had become ungrateful toward his Benefactor, He counted him worthy of a yet greater gift.

For look not at this only, that He cast him out of paradise, but consider also the gain that came thereby.

For after casting him out of paradise, and after working those ten thousand good things, and accomplishing His manifold dispensations, He even sent His own Son on behalf of those who had been benefited yet hated Him, and opened heaven to us, and flung wide paradise itself, and made us sons—us the enemies, the ungrateful.

Wherefore it is also seasonable now to say:

'O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!'

And He gave us also the baptism of the remission of sins, and deliverance from punishment, and the inheritance of the kingdom, and promised ten thousand good things to those who do rightly, and stretched forth His hand, and poured out the Spirit into our hearts.

What then? After so many and so great benefits, how ought we to be disposed? Pray, even if we were dying every day for Him who so loveth us, should we be paying back what is due—nay rather, should we be depositing even the smallest fraction of the debt? By no means;

for indeed this too, again, would redound to our own gain.

How, then, are we disposed—we who ought to be so disposed toward Him? Every single day we do outrage to His laws.

But do not be indignant if I let my tongue loose upon those who sin;

for I shall accuse not you alone, but myself as well.

Where, then, do you wish me to begin? With the slaves? With the free? With those in military service? With private citizens? With the rulers? With the ruled? With the women? With the men? With the aged? With the young? From what stage of life? From what class? From what rank? From what occupation? Do you wish me to make my beginning with those in the army? Why, then, do not these men sin, day after day committing outrage, hurling abuse, raging, trafficking in the misfortunes of others, resembling wolves, never clean of transgressions—unless indeed one might also call the sea free of waves? For what passion does not trouble them? What disease does not lay siege to their soul? Toward their equals they are disposed with envy, and they grudge and are vainglorious;

toward those set beneath them, they are grasping and greedy;

and toward those who have lawsuits and run to them as to a harbour, they behave with enmity and perjury.

How many acts of plunder are among them!

How many false accusations and petty cheatings!

How many acts of slavish flattery!

Come, then, let us fit each thing to the law of Christ.

'Whoever says to his brother, Thou fool, shall be liable to the hell of fire.'

'Whoever looks upon a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her.'

'Unless a man humbles himself as a little child, he shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.'

Yet these men even make a practice of arrogance, becoming, against their subjects—men who have been handed over to them and who tremble and are in dread of them—more savage than any wild beast;

doing nothing for Christ's sake, but everything for the belly's sake, for money's sake, for the sake of vainglory.

Is it possible to number in words the enormity of their deeds? What could one say of their mockeries, their laughter, their unseasonable chatterings, their filthy talk? And as for their covetousness, it cannot even be told.

For just as the monks in the mountains do not even know what covetousness is, so neither do these men—

yet those men are ignorant of the passion because they are far removed from the disease;

while these men, because they are utterly drunk with it, do not even perceive how great the evil is.

For so has this vice thrust aside virtue and now holds tyranny, that among those madmen it is not even reckoned a grave charge.

But do you wish that, leaving these men, we should pass on to others more reasonable? Come, then, let us examine the class of

the craftsmen and handworkers.

For these especially seem to live by just labours and by their own sweat.

Yet even these, when they do not take heed to themselves, gather to themselves many evils from this very source.

For upon the working of their just labours they bring in the injustice that comes from selling and buying, and to their covetousness they oftentimes add oaths and perjuries and lies, and they are wholly given over to the affairs of this life only, and remain nailed fast to the earth;

and to make money they do everything;

but to share with those in need they do not put much zeal, ever wishing to increase their possessions.

What could one say of the revilings that arise over such matters, the insults, the loans, the usuries, the contracts laden with much petty cheating, the shameless traffickings? (III)

But do you wish that, leaving these too, we should pass on to others who seem to be more upright? Who, then, are these? They who possess estates and reap the wealth that comes from the land.

And what could be more unjust than these? For if anyone should examine how they treat the wretched and miserable husbandmen, he will find them more cruel than barbarians.

For upon men who are wasting away with hunger and toiling their whole life long, they lay continual and unbearable tributes, and impose laborious services; and they use those men's bodies like asses and mules—nay rather, like stones—not allowing them even to breathe a little; and whether the land yields or does not yield, they wring them alike, and grant them no forbearance whatever;

and what could be more pitiable than this, when, after they have toiled the whole winter through and have been worn out with frost and rain and sleepless nights, they go away with empty hands, still owing besides, and dreading and shuddering more than at this famine and this shipwreck the tortures of the stewards, the draggings-off, the exactions, the arrests, and the inexorable forced services? What could one say of the tradings they impose upon them, the petty cheatings they practise on them, filling their own winepresses and vats from these men's labours and sweat, while not permitting them to carry home even a small measure, but drawing off the whole harvest into the casks of their own lawlessness, and flinging them a paltry pittance of silver in return? And new kinds of usury they invent, such as are not even sanctioned by the laws of the Greeks, and they draw up bonds for loans laden with much cursing.

For not even a hundredth of the whole, but the half of the whole they force them to pay back;

and this too, though the one from whom it is demanded has a wife and is rearing children, and is a human being, and with his own toils fills both the threshing-floor and the winepress.

But of none of these things do they take any thought.

Wherefore indeed it is seasonable to bring forward the prophet and to say:

'Be astonished, O heaven, and shudder, O earth,'

at what savagery the race of men has been driven in its frenzy.

But I say these things not to malign the crafts, nor husbandry, nor military service, nor estates, but ourselves.

Since Cornelius too was a centurion, and Paul was a tentmaker, and even after his preaching he practised his trade;

Job too enjoyed lands and abundant revenues;

and none of these was for any of them any hindrance to virtue.

Considering, then, all these things, and reckoning up the ten thousand talents, let us from this very consideration be urged on to forgive our neighbours those few and trifling debts.

For an account is required of us concerning the commandments entrusted to us, and we are not able to pay all in full, no matter what we may do.

For this reason God has given us, for the paying of the debt, a way both easy and simple, one able to dissolve all those debts—I mean, the not bearing a grudge.

In order, then, that we may learn this well, let us listen, proceeding in due course, to the whole parable.

"For there was brought to him," He says, "one debtor of ten thousand talents."

And since he had nothing with which to pay, he commanded that he be sold, together with his wife and his children.

Not out of cruelty, nor of inhumanity;

for the loss would have come round again upon himself;

but out of an unutterable tenderness of care.

For He wishes by this threat to strike him with fear, that He may bring him to supplication—not that he should be sold.

For if He had acted with that intent, He would not have yielded to his petition, nor granted him the favour.

Why then did He not do this before the reckoning, nor remit the debt? Because He wished to teach him from how many debts He was freeing him, that thereby at least he might become gentler toward his fellow-servant.

For if, even after learning the greatness of the debt and the magnitude of the pardon, he persisted in throttling his fellow-servant,

if He had not first schooled him beforehand with so many remedies, to what pitch of cruelty would he not have gone forth? What, then, does that man say? "Have patience with me, and I will pay you all," he says.

And his lord, being moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the loan.

Do you see again the excess of loving-kindness? The servant asked only for a delay and postponement of time;

but he gave more than he asked—the complete remission of the loan and full pardon.

For He was indeed willing to give even from the beginning, but He did not wish the gift to be His alone, but also to belong to this man's supplication, that he might not depart uncrowned.

For that the whole was His, even though this man fell down and made entreaty, the reason for the pardon made plain;

for "being moved with compassion, he forgave him."

But nevertheless, even so, He wished that this man too should seem to contribute something, that he might not be utterly put to shame;

and that, being instructed through his own calamities, he might become forgiving toward his fellow-servant.

Up to this point, then, this man is good and well-pleasing;

for he confessed, and promised to pay the debt, and fell down, and besought, and condemned his own sins, and recognized the greatness of the debt.

But what followed was unworthy of what went before.

For having gone out immediately—not after a long time, but immediately, while the benefit was still ringing in his ears—he abused for evil the gift and the freedom granted to him by his master.

For finding one of his fellow-servants who owed him a hundred denarii, he throttled him, saying,

"Pay me whatever you owe."

Do you see the master's loving-kindness? Do you see the servant's cruelty? Listen, you who do such things for the sake of money.

For if for the sake of sins one ought not to do this, much more for the sake of money.

What then does that man say? "Have patience with me, and I will pay you all."

But he did not even reverence the very words by which he himself had been saved (for he too, having spoken these very words, was set free from the ten thousand talents);

and he did not even recognize the harbour through which he had escaped shipwreck;

the posture of supplication did not remind him of his master's loving-kindness;

but casting out all those things through covetousness and cruelty and the bearing of grudges, he was more savage than any wild beast, throttling his fellow-servant.

What are you doing, O man? It is from yourself that you are demanding payment;

do you not perceive that you are thrusting the sword against yourself, and revoking both the sentence and the gift? But he considered none of these things, nor did he remember his own case, nor did he relent;

and yet the supplication was not on behalf of equal amounts.

For the one was entreating on account of ten thousand talents, but the other on account of a hundred pence;

and the one was appealing to a fellow-servant, but the other to his master;

and the one received complete remission, but the other was only asking for a delay.

And not even this did he himself grant;

for he cast him into prison.

And when his fellow-servants saw it, they accused him to their master.

Not even to men was this pleasing, much less to God.

Therefore those who owed nothing shared in his grief.

What then does the master say? 'You wicked servant, I forgave you all that debt because you besought me;'

'ought you not also to have had pity on your fellow-servant, even as I also had pity on you?' Consider again the gentleness of the master.

He enters into judgment with him and makes his defense, though about to reverse His own gift;

or rather, it was not he himself who reversed it, but the one who had received it.

'I forgave you all that debt because you besought me;'

'ought you not also to have had pity on your fellow-servant?' For even if the matter seems grievous to you, yet you ought also to have looked to the gain—both that which has already come to pass and that which was to come.

Even if the command is burdensome, you ought to have considered the reward;

and think not that he has grieved you, but that you have provoked God, whom by

a bare supplication you reconciled to yourself.

But if even so it is burdensome to you to become a friend to him who has grieved you, far heavier is it to fall into hell;

and if you had set the one over against the other, then you would have known that this is far lighter.

And when he owed ten thousand talents, He did not call him wicked, nor did He revile him, but had pity on him;

but when he became unfeeling toward his fellow-servant, then He says, 'You wicked servant.'

Let us give heed, we who are covetous;

for indeed the word is addressed to us also.

Let us give heed, we also who are unmerciful and cruel;

for it is not toward others that we are cruel, but toward ourselves.

Whenever, then, you wish to bear a grudge, consider that you are bearing a grudge against yourself, not against another; that you are binding fast your own sins, not those of your neighbor.

For whatever you may do to this man, you do as a man, and in the present life;

but God will not deal so, but will punish you more severely, and with the punishment yonder.

For 'He delivered him over, until he should pay all that was owed;'

for since you did not become better through the benefit, it remains that you should be corrected by punishment.

And yet the gracious gifts and the free favors are without repentance;

but so great was the power of wickedness, that it annulled even this law.

What then is more grievous than the bearing of grudges, when it is seen to overturn so great and so mighty a divine gift? And He did not deliver him over merely, but in anger.

For when He commanded him to be sold, the words were not words of anger;

but a very great occasion for loving-kindness;

but now the sentence is one of great indignation, and of punishment, and of chastisement.

What then does the parable intend? 'So likewise,' He says, 'shall My Father do also to you, if you do not each forgive his brother their trespasses from your hearts.'

For it is not fitting that such a one—one so wicked and so hateful to mankind—should call God his Father.

Two things, therefore, He here requires: both that we condemn ourselves for our sins, and that we forgive others;

and the former for the sake of the latter, that this might come about more easily (for he who considers his own sins will be more inclined to forgiveness toward his fellow-servant).

And not merely to forgive with the mouth, but from the heart.

Let us not, then, by nursing resentment, drive the sword against our own selves.

For how has the one who wronged you grieved you so gravely as you will work harm upon yourself by remembering the anger, and by drawing down upon yourself the sentence from God that condemns you? For if you are sober and act with wisdom, the terrible thing will settle upon that man's own head, and it is he who will suffer the evil;

but if you continue in indignation and vexation, then you yourself will bear the injury, not from him, but from your own self.

Do not say, then, that he insulted me and slandered me and did me countless evils;

for the more things you name, the more you show him to be your benefactor.

For he has given you occasion to wash away your sins;

so that the greater the wrong he has done you, the greater the remission of sins of which he becomes the cause to you.

For if we are willing, no one will be able to wrong us;

but even our enemies will benefit us in the greatest things.

And why do I speak of men? For what could be more wicked than the devil? Yet even from that quarter we have abundant occasion for winning approval, as Job also shows.

But if the devil became an occasion of crowns, why do you fear a human enemy? See, then, how much you gain by meekly bearing the insults of your enemies.

First and greatest, deliverance from sins;

second, fortitude and endurance;

third, gentleness and love of mankind.

For the one who does not know how to be angry at those who grieve him will be far more disposed to kindness toward those who love him.

Fourth, to be kept perpetually clean of anger;

for the one who is clean of anger is plainly delivered also from the dejection that springs from it, and will not waste his life in vain labors and sorrows.

For the one who does not know how to hate does not know how to grieve either, but will enjoy delight and countless good things.

So that we punish ourselves by hating others;

just as, on the other hand, we do ourselves good by loving.

Besides all these things, you will be held in reverence even by your very enemies, though they be demons;

or rather, being thus disposed, you will no longer even have an enemy.

But the greatest of all and the foremost is this: that you gain the

loving-kindness of God;

and if you have sinned, you will obtain pardon;

and if you have done well, you will gain still greater boldness of access.

Let us therefore accomplish this, to hate no one, so that God also may love us;

so that, even though we be debtors of ten thousand talents, He may be moved with compassion and show mercy.

But have you been wronged by him? Then have mercy on him, do not hate him;

weep and lament over him, do not turn away from him.

For it is not you who have given offense to God, but he;

while you, if you bear it, have even won approval.

Consider that when Christ was about to be crucified, He rejoiced for His own sake, but wept for those who were crucifying Him.

So ought we also to be disposed;

and the more we are wronged, so much the more should we lament over those who wrong us.

For to us there come from this many good things;

But has he insulted you and struck you before everyone? Then before everyone he has shamed and dishonored himself, and has opened the mouths of countless accusers, and has woven for you more crowns, and has gathered for you many heralds of your long-suffering.

But has he slandered you to others? And what of that, seeing that it is God who will demand the reckoning, and not those who heard it? For he has only added to himself a ground for punishment, so that he must give account not only for his own affairs, but also for the things he spoke concerning you.

And he slandered you before men, but he himself was slandered before God.

But if these things are not enough for you, consider that your Master too was slandered, both by Satan and by men, and that too before those who most dearly loved Him.

and His Only-begotten Son again suffered the very same things.

If they called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more will they so call the members of His household?

And that wicked demon not only slandered Him, but was even believed;

and he slandered Him not with trifling charges, but with the greatest reproaches and accusations.

For he declared Him to be possessed by a demon, and to be a deceiver, and an adversary of God.

But have you, after doing good, been ill-treated? Then for this very reason, mourn and grieve for the one who did it, but for yourself rejoice, because you have become like God, who makes His sun to rise upon the evil and the good.

But if to imitate God is beyond you—

and yet to the vigilant this too is not difficult—

but nevertheless, if this seems to you too great for you, come, let us bring you to your fellow-servants;

to Joseph, who suffered countless wrongs yet did good to his brothers;

to Moses, who after countless plots against him yet made intercession on their behalf;

to the blessed Paul, who could not even number the things he suffered at their hands, and yet counted himself worthy to be accursed for their sake;

to Stephen, who while being stoned prayed that this sin might be forgiven them.

And having considered all these things, cast out all anger, that God may also forgive us all our trespasses, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.