Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 68

And Jesus entered into the temple, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves, and said to them:

'My house shall be called a house of prayer;'

'but you have made it a den of robbers.'

but the former was at the beginning of the Gospel, while this was near its end.

Hence it is likely that this happened a second time, and on different occasions.

And this is plain both from the times and from the answer.

For there He was present at the very feast of the Passover.

And there the Jews say to Him,

'What sign do you show us?' But here they are silent, although they had been rebuked, because by now He was already marvelled at by all.

And this is a greater accusation against the Jews: that though He had done this both once and twice, they still persisted in their trafficking, and said that He was an adversary of God, when they ought from this very thing to have learned both His honour toward the Father and His own power.

For indeed He also worked wonders, and they saw His words confirmed by His deeds.

But not even so were they persuaded; rather they were indignant,

and this while hearing the prophet crying aloud, and the children proclaiming Him beyond what befitted their age.

Wherefore He too raises up Isaiah against them as an accuser, saying,

'My house shall be called a house of prayer.'

But not by this alone does He show His authority, but also by healing various diseases;

for there came to Him the lame and the blind, and He healed them;

and thereby He displays both His power and His authority.

But they were not even so persuaded; rather, together with the rest of the wonders, hearing also the children proclaiming Him aloud, they were choked with rage, and they say,

'Do you not hear what these are saying?' And indeed it belonged to Christ to say this to them:

'Do you not hear what these are saying?' For as to God did those sing praises. What then does He Himself do? Since they contradicted things manifest, He employs a more reproachful mode of correction, saying,

'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings You have perfected praise.' And well did He say, 'Out of the mouth';

for what was uttered was not of their own understanding, but of His power, which gave clear articulation to the immature speech of those children.

And this also was a figure of the Gentiles, who lisped as children, yet all at once sounded forth great things with understanding and faith.

And to the apostles too there was hence no small encouragement.

For lest they should be perplexed how, being unlearned men, they would be able to proclaim the message, the children, going before them, cast out all their anxiety, showing that He who had made these to sing praises would give speech to them also.

And not by this alone, but the wonder also declared that He is the Maker of nature itself.

The children, then, though of immature age, uttered things full of clear meaning and in harmony with the things above;

but the men uttered things full of frenzy and madness.

Since, therefore, there were many things provoking them—the things from the crowds, the things from the casting out of the traders, the things of the wonders, the things of the children—He again leaves them, relaxing the swelling of their passion, and not wishing to begin His teaching, lest, seething with envy, they should be still more grievously offended at the things spoken.

'And in the morning, as He returned to the city, He hungered.'

How does He hunger in the morning? When He permitted it to the flesh, then He displays its affection.

'And seeing a fig tree by the way, He came to it, and found nothing on it but leaves only.'

Another evangelist says that 'it was not yet the season';

but if it was not the season, how does another evangelist say, 'He came, if perhaps He might find fruit on it'? Whence it is plain that this belonged to the supposition of the disciples, who were still in a more imperfect condition.

For indeed the evangelists in many places write down the suppositions of the disciples.

As, then, this belonged to their supposition, so also did the thinking that on this account it was cursed—because of its not having fruit.

For what reason, then, was it cursed? For the sake of the disciples, that they might be of good courage.

For since everywhere He was doing good, but had punished no one;

and it was needful also to furnish a demonstration of His punitive power, that both the disciples and the Jews might learn that, though able to wither those who were crucifying Him, He willingly forbears, and does not wither them;

yet He was not willing to display this upon men;

so upon the plant He gave the demonstration of His punitive activity.

But whenever some such thing happens upon places, or upon plants, or upon irrational creatures, do not be over-precise, nor say,

'How was the fig tree justly withered, if it was not the season?'—for to say this is the height of foolish babbling;

But behold the marvel, and marvel, and glorify the Worker of the marvel.

For in the case of the swine also many have said this—about those that were drowned—rehearsing the argument of the righteous man's cause.

But not even here should we give heed to them.

For these too are without reason, even as that plant was without soul.

For what reason, then, does the matter take on such a form, and this becomes the occasion of the curse? As I have said, this was on account of the disciples' surmising.

But if it was not yet the season, some say that the law is here being pointlessly declared.

For of this too the fruit was faith, and then indeed was the season for this fruit, and it did in fact bear it.

For already, He says, the fields are white unto harvest.

I sent you to reap that whereon you have not laboured.

Not, therefore, does He here hint at any of these things, but, as I have said, He displays His power to punish;

and this He shows by saying, For it was not yet the season.

making it plain that His chief purpose in coming to this was not on account of hunger, but for the sake of the disciples, who indeed marvelled exceedingly, and that though many greater signs had already taken place;

but, as I have said, this was a strange thing;

for now for the first time did He display His power to punish.

Wherefore also He wrought the marvel not upon some other plant, but upon the most moist of all, so that from this too the marvel might appear the greater.

And that you may learn that this took place for their sakes, that He might anoint them unto courage, hearken to what follows, to the things He says.

And what does He say? You also shall do greater things, if you are willing to believe and to be confident in prayer.

Do you see that the whole thing came to pass for their sakes, that they might not dread and tremble at plots against them? Wherefore also He says this a second time, fastening them to prayer and faith.

For not this only shall you do, He says, but you shall even remove mountains, and shall do many more things besides, being confident through faith and prayer.

But the boastful and puffed-up Jews, wishing to break off His teaching, came and asked:

By what authority do You do these things? For since they could not lay hold upon the signs, they bring forward against Him the correction of those who trafficked in the temple.

This same question they are seen to ask in John's Gospel also, if not in these very words, yet with the same intent.

What sign do You show us, that You do these things? But there indeed He answers them, saying:

Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up;

but here He casts them into perplexity.

Whence it is plain that then indeed it was the beginning and prelude of the miracles, but here the end.

And what they say is this:

Have You received the teacher's chair? Were You ordained a priest, that You displayed so great an authority? he says.

And yet He did nothing that had insolence in it, but provided beforehand for the good order of the temple;

but nevertheless, having nothing to say, they fasten upon this.

And when He cast them out, they dared to say nothing, because of the miracles;

but when He was seen, then they rebuke Him.

What then does He Himself do? He does not answer them directly, showing that if they had been willing to see His authority, they were able;

but He asks them a question in return, saying:

The baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven, or from men? And what sort of connection is this? A very great one, in truth.

For if they had said, From heaven, He would have said to them:

Why then did you not believe him? For if they had believed, they would not have asked these things.

For concerning Him that man said, that I am not worthy to loose the latchet of His shoe;

and, Behold the Lamb of God, that takes away the sin of the world;

and, This is the Son of God.

And, 'He that cometh from above is above all.'

And that, 'The fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly purge His floor.'

So that if they had believed him, there was nothing to hinder them from knowing by what authority He does these things.

Then, since they said out of malice, 'We know not,' He did not say, 'Neither do I know';

but what? 'Neither do I tell you.'

For if indeed they had been ignorant, they would have needed to be taught;

but since they were acting with malice, He with good reason answers them nothing.

And why did they not say that the baptism was 'from men'? They feared the multitudes, it says.

Do you see a perverse heart? Everywhere they despise God, yet do all things for the sake of men.

For indeed they feared this man too on their account, not out of reverence for the man himself, but because of the people;

and they were unwilling to believe in Christ on account of men;

and from this source all their evils were begotten for them.

'What think ye? A certain man had two sons, and he saith to the first,'

'Go, work today in the vineyard.'

'But he answered and said, I will not;'

'but afterward he repented and went.'

'And he came to the second, and said likewise.'

'And he answered and said, I go, sir;'

'Which now of the two did the will of his father? They say, The first.'

Again by parables He convicts them, hinting both at their own ingratitude and at the obedience of those who had been utterly condemned.

For these two children signify this very thing which came to pass also in the case of

the Gentiles and of the Jews.

For those, though they had not promised to hearken, nor had become hearers of the law, yet by their works displayed obedience;

while these, though they had said, 'All that God shall say, we will do and hearken,' by their works disobeyed.

For this reason, lest they should suppose that the law profited them, He shows that this very thing rather condemns them;

which very thing Paul also says, that 'Not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified.'

For this reason too, in order that He might make them self-condemned, He contrives that the sentence should be pronounced by themselves;

which very thing He does also in the parable of the vineyard that follows.

And that this might come to pass, He rehearses the charge under the guise of another person.

For since they were unwilling to confess directly, He by means of a parable henceforth casts them into that very thing which He desired.

But when, not understanding what was said, they had pronounced the sentence, then He uncovers what had been veiled, and says:

'That the publicans and the harlots go before you into the kingdom of heaven.'

'For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not;'

'but the publicans believed him;'

'and ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him.'

For if He had said simply, 'The harlots go before you,' the saying would have seemed to them burdensome;

but now, declaring it after their own sentence, He seems not to be oppressive.

For this reason too He adds the cause.

And what was this? 'John came,' He says, 'unto you,' not unto them;

and not this only, but also 'In the way of righteousness.'

For neither have you this to charge, that anyone was neglectful and of no benefit to you;

but rather his life was blameless, and his care over you was great, and yet you gave no heed to him.

And along with this yet another accusation, that tax collectors gave heed to him;

and along with this again another, that not even after those men did you believe.

For indeed you ought to have believed even before them;

but to have failed even after them was something bereft of all pardon;

and it is an unspeakable praise of those men, and an accusation of these.

He came to you, and you did not receive him;

he did not come to those men, and they received him;

and you did not so much as take those men for your teachers.

See through how many points the commendation of those men, and the accusation of these, is set forth.

He came to you, not to those men;

this did not cause those men to stumble.

And the phrase 'go before' does not mean that these follow after them, but that they still have hope, if they are willing.

For nothing so rouses the duller sort as jealous rivalry.

The first shall be last, and the last first.

For this reason he brought forward both harlots and tax collectors, that he might provoke them to emulation.

For indeed these two are extreme sins, born of a grievous passion: the one from the desire of bodies, the other from the desire of money.

And he shows that this above all is to hear the law of God, namely, to have believed in John.

It is not, then, of grace alone that harlots enter in, but also of righteousness.

For it was not while remaining harlots that they entered in, but having obeyed and believed and been cleansed and transformed—thus they entered in.

Do you see how he made his word both inoffensive and yet more cutting, by means of the parable, by means of the bringing in of the harlots? For he did not say at once, 'Why did you not believe John?' but—what was far more piercing—having first set forth the tax collectors and the harlots, he then added this, convicting their inexcusableness from the very sequence of events, and showing that they do all things for fear of men and for empty glory.

For indeed they did not confess Christ out of fear, lest they should be put out of the synagogue;

and again they did not dare to speak ill of John;

and this too not out of reverence, but out of fear.

All these things he reproved by what he had said, and afterwards he inflicted a still more grievous blow, saying:

'But you, when you had seen it, did not afterward repent, that you might believe him.'

For it is indeed an evil not to have chosen the good at the outset;

but the greater accusation is not even to have changed one's mind.

For this above all makes many men wicked, which I see some even now suffering from utter insensibility.

But let no one be such;

rather, even if one has been brought down to the uttermost of wickedness, let him not

despair of the change for the better.

For it is easy to rise up again out of the very pits of wickedness.

Or have you not heard how that harlot, who surpassed all in wantonness, outdid all in reverence? I do not mean the one spoken of in the Gospels, but the one of our own generation, who came from Phoenicia, that most lawless city.

For indeed this woman was once a harlot among us, holding the first place upon the stage, and her name was much spoken of everywhere, not only in our own city, but even as far as Cilicia and Cappadocia.

And she emptied many estates, and took captive many orphans;

and many even slandered her with sorcery, as though it were not by the bloom of her body alone, but also by drugs, that she wove those nets.

This harlot once took captive even the brother of an empress;

for indeed great was her tyranny.

But all at once—I know not how, or rather I know it clearly—

for when she resolved and was transformed, and drew to herself the grace of God,

she despised all those things, and casting away the devil's sorceries, she ran up toward heaven.

And indeed there was nothing more shameful than she was, when she was upon the stage;

yet nevertheless afterward she surpassed many by the exceeding greatness of her self-restraint, and clothing herself in sackcloth, she disciplined herself in this manner for all her days.

On her account even a prefect was troubled, and soldiers were put under arms, and yet they were not able to bring her back to the stage, nor to lead her out from the virgins who had received her.

She, having been deemed worthy of the ineffable mysteries, and having shown a zeal worthy of the grace, thus brought her life to its close—having washed away all things through grace, and after her baptism having displayed great philosophy of life.

For she did not so much as grant a bare sight of herself to those who once were her lovers when they came for this purpose, having shut herself in, and having spent many years as though in a prison.

Thus shall the last be first, and the first last;

so everywhere we have need of a soul set on fire, and nothing hinders one from becoming great and admirable.

Let no one, therefore, who is in wickedness despair;

let no one who is in virtue grow drowsy;

for often the harlot will pass him by;

neither let that other one despair;

for it is possible for him even to outstrip those who are first.

Hear what God says to Jerusalem:

'I said, after she had committed all these fornications, Return unto me; and she returned not.'

When we return to the fervent love of God, He remembers not the former things.

God is not as man;

for He does not reproach us with the things that are past, nor does He say, 'Why hast thou been away so long a time?'—if we repent;

but He loves us, whenever we draw near.

Let us cleave to Him firmly, and let us nail our hearts fast to the fear of Him.

Such things have come to pass not only in the New Testament, but also in the Old.

For what was worse than Manasseh? Yet he was able to make God propitious to him.

What was more blessed than Solomon? Yet, falling into slumber, he fell.

Or rather, I can show both these things happening in one person—in his father;

for the same man became at one time both good and bad.

What was more blessed than Judas? Yet he became a traitor.

What was more wretched than Matthew? Yet he became an evangelist.

What was worse than Paul? Yet he became an apostle.

What was more zealous than Simon? Yet he too became more wretched than all.

How many other such changes wouldst thou wish to see, both wrought of old and now taking place every single day? For this very reason I say: let neither him who is upon the stage despair, nor him who is in the Church presume.

For to the latter He says, 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall';

but to the former, 'Shall not he that falleth arise?' and, 'Lift up the hands that hang down and the palsied knees.'

Again, to these He says, 'Watch';

but to those, 'Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead.'

For these have need to guard what they possess, but those to become what they are not;

these to maintain their health, those to be delivered from their sickness;

but many even of the sick recover their health, and many of the healthy, growing slothful, fall sick.

'Sin no more, lest a worse thing befall thee.'

Do you wish to be made whole? Rise, take up your bed, and go to your house.

For sin is a dread thing, a dread paralysis.

Or rather, it is not merely a paralysis, but something else yet more grievous.

For such a man is not only idle in good works, but is also active in evil ones.

Yet even if you are in such a condition, if only you are willing to rouse yourself a little, all these dreadful things are dissolved.

Even if you have been sick thirty-eight years, if you are earnest to become whole, there is none to hinder you.

Even now Christ is present, and He says, 'Take up your bed.'

Only be willing to rouse yourself.

You have no man? But you have God.

You have no one to put you into the pool? But you have One who does not let you have need of a pool at all.

You have no one to cast you in there? But you have One who commands you to take up your bed.

You cannot say, 'While I am coming, another steps down before me.'

For if you are willing to go down to the fountain, there is none to hinder you.

Grace is not consumed, it is not spent.

It is a fountain gushing forth without ceasing.

Out of His fullness we are all healed, both in soul and in body.

Let us therefore draw near even now.

For Rahab too was a harlot, yet she was saved.

And the thief was a murderer, yet he became a citizen of paradise.

And Judas, though he was with the Master, yet perished;

while the thief, though he was upon the cross, became a disciple.

These are the marvels of God.

Thus the Magi were approved;

thus the tax-collector became an evangelist;

thus the blasphemer became an apostle.

Look upon these things, and never despair, but ever take courage and rouse yourself.

Only lay hold of the road that leads there, and you will advance swiftly.

Do not shut the doors, do not block the entrance.

The present time is short, the toil is small.

But even if it were great, not even so ought we to give up.

For even if you do not undergo this most excellent labour that lies in repentance and virtue, you will assuredly labour and suffer in another way in the world.

But if there is toil both here and there, why do we not choose this one, which has abundant fruit and a great recompense? And indeed this toil and that are not even the same.

For in worldly affairs there are continual dangers, and losses one upon another, and the hope is uncertain, and much servility, and an expenditure of money and of bodies and of soul;

and then the recompense of the fruits falls far short of the hope, if indeed it should sprout at all.

For the sweat of worldly matters does not everywhere bear fruit;

yet even when it does not fail, but even brings forth an abundant yield, it abides but for a brief time.

For when you have grown old, and no longer have a keen perception of the enjoyment, then it is that the toil brings you its recompense.

And the toil is in a body at its prime, but the fruit and the luxury in one grown old and enfeebled, when time has withered away even the perception itself;

and yet, even if it had not withered them, the expectation of death would not have suffered him to take his ease.

But there it is not so; rather, the toil is in a body that is perishing and coming to its end;

But the crown is in a realm undefiled and immortal and having no end.

And the toil is both the first thing and a brief thing;

but the recompense is both the later thing and a boundless one, so that henceforth you may rest in security, expecting nothing unpleasant.

For henceforth there is no fear of change, nor of falling away, as there is here.

What kind of goods, then, are these—things neither secure, but paltry and of clay, and vanishing before they even appear, and acquired only with much toil? And what kind of goods are those others, which cannot be matched—things unmovable, that never grow old, that involve no hardship, and that bring you their crowns even in the very time of the contests? For he who despises riches even now already receives his reward, being freed from anxiety, from envy, from slander, from plotting, from jealousy.

The chaste man, who lives with decency, is crowned and revels in delight even before his departure hence, being freed from unseemliness, from ridicule, from perils of accusation, and from all the other dreadful things.

All the other parts of virtue likewise give us their recompense even now.

In order, then, that we may attain both the present and the coming

good things, let us flee vice and choose virtue.

For thus we shall both revel in delight here, and shall obtain the crowns that are to come;

which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the might unto the ages of ages.