Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 70

'And Jesus answered and spoke again in parables,'

'The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, who made a marriage-feast for his son,'

'And he sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the marriage-feast, and they would not come.'

'Again he sent forth other servants, saying,'

'Tell them that are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready;'

'But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his own field, and another to his merchandise.'

'And the rest laid hold on his servants, and treated them shamefully, and slew them,' and so forth.

Do you see, both in the former parable and in this one, the difference between the son and the servants? Do you see the great kinship of the two parables, and their great difference as well? For this one too displays both the long-suffering of God and His abundant providence, and the ungrateful folly of the Jews.

But this parable has something more than that one.

For it foretells beforehand both the falling away of the Jews and the calling of the Gentiles;

and along with this it also shows the strictness of the life required, and how great a penalty awaits those who are negligent.

And rightly does this parable come after that one.

'It shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof' — here at length He also makes clear to what kind of nation;

and not this only, but He also displays once more His unspeakable providence toward the Jews.

For there, before the cross, He appears as calling them;

but here, even after being slain, He continues pressing upon them and drawing them to Himself.

And at the very time when they ought to have paid the most grievous penalty, then also He draws them to the marriage-feast, and honors them with the highest honor.

And observe how there too it is not the Gentiles first, but the Jews, and here again in the same way.

But just as there, when they would not receive him, but even slew him when he came, then He gave out the vineyard;

so here also, when they would not come to the marriage-feast, then He called others.

What then could be more thankless than they, when, being called to a marriage-feast, they leap away? For who would not choose to come to a marriage-feast, and a king's marriage-feast, and one where a king makes a marriage-feast for his son? And why, one asks, is it called a marriage?

That you may learn God's tender care, His longing toward us, the brightness of these things, that there is nothing there that grieves, nor

anything gloomy, but all things are full of spiritual joy.

For this reason John too calls Him the bridegroom;

for this reason Paul also says,

'For I have espoused you to one husband,'

and again, 'This mystery is great, but I speak concerning Christ and concerning the Church.'

Why then is the bride said to be espoused not to Him, but to the Son? Because she who is espoused to the Son is espoused to the Father.

For it makes no difference to the Scripture whether it says this way or that, because the substance is unchangeable and admits of no variation.

From this He also proclaimed the resurrection.

For since in what went before He had spoken of death, He shows that even after death, then are the marriage-feast, then is the Bridegroom.

But not even so do these become any better, nor any gentler.

For this is a third accusation.

The first, that they killed the prophets;

after these things, that having slain Him, and being invited by that very One who had been slain to the marriage-feast of the One who had been slain, they do not come, but fabricate excuses—yokes of oxen, and fields, and wives.

And yet the pretexts seem to be reasonable;

but from this we learn that, even if the things that hold us back be necessary, we ought to hold spiritual things in higher esteem than all else.

And He calls them not recently, but long before the time.

For 'Tell those who are invited,' He says; and again, 'Call those who have been invited';

which made the accusation the greater.

And when were they called? Through all the prophets, and again through John;

for he directed all men to Him, saying:

'He must increase, but I must decrease';

and again through the Son Himself;

for 'Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest';

'If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink.'

And not by words only, but also by deeds did He call them; and after the Ascension, through Peter and those with him.

'For He who worked in Peter unto the apostleship of the circumcision,' he says, 'worked also in me unto the Gentiles.'

For since, on seeing the Son, they were angered and slew Him, He calls them again through the servants.

And to what does He call them? To toils and labors and sweat? No, but to enjoyment;

'For my oxen,' He says, 'and my fatlings are killed.'

And not even this turned them back; but the more He was long-suffering, so much the more were they hardened.

For it was not that they were occupied, but that, having grown careless, they did not come.

How then do some put forward marriages, and others yokes of oxen? These at least are matters of occupation.

For when spiritual things call, there is no necessary occupation at all.

But to me they seem to have used even these pretexts, putting them forward as veils for their negligence.

And this was not the only dreadful thing, that they did not come, but the far more grievous and more frenzied thing, that they even beat those who came, and insulted them, and slew them;

this was worse than the former.

For those former ones came demanding revenue and fruits, and were slain;

but these, inviting them to the marriage-feast of the very One slain by them, are themselves again murdered.

What is equal to this madness? This too Paul spoke of, when accusing them, saying:

'who killed both the Lord and their own prophets, and drove us out.'

Then, lest they should say, 'He is an adversary of God, and for this reason we do not come,' hear what those who call them say:

that it is the Father who makes the marriage-feast, and He Himself who calls.

What then after these things? Since they were not willing to come, but even slew those who had come to them, He burns their cities, and having sent His armies, He destroyed them.

And He says these things, foreshowing the events under Vespasian and Titus, and that they provoked the Father also by not believing on Him;

for it is He Himself who executed the punishment.

For this reason the capture did not take place immediately after Christ was slain, but after forty years, that He might show forth His long-suffering.

when they slew Stephen, when they made away with James, when they insulted the apostles.

Do you see the truth of these things, and their swiftness? For while John was still living, and many others who had associated with Christ, these events were coming to pass.

and those who heard these things were witnesses of what was happening.

Behold, then, His unspeakable tender care.

He did all things and brought them to completion.

When His household servants were slain, He sent other servants;

when these were slaughtered, He sent the Son;

and when He too was made away with, He calls them to the wedding feast;

Then He sends other servants;

but they slew these also.

Then at last He makes away with them, inasmuch as they were sick with an incurable disease.

For that they were sick with an incurable disease, He showed not only from what had already come to pass, but from the fact that, though harlots and tax-collectors had believed, they themselves did these things.

So that it was not only from what they themselves dared to do, but also from what others accomplished aright, that their condemnation appears;

But if someone should say that those from among the Gentiles were not called then, when the apostles were scourged and suffered countless things, but immediately after the resurrection;

(for it was then that He says to them, 'Go, make disciples of all the nations'), we would reply that both before the cross and after the cross they discoursed to these first.

For indeed before the cross He says to them:

Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel;

and after the cross He did not forbid it, but even commanded them to discourse to them.

For even though He said, 'Make disciples of all the nations,'

yet, being about to ascend into heaven, He made clear that they would discourse to those first.

For you shall receive power, He says, when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and to the uttermost part of the earth;

For He who wrought in Peter unto the apostleship of the circumcision, wrought also in me unto the Gentiles.

For this reason the apostles too went first to the Jews, and having spent much time in Jerusalem, then, being driven out by them, were thus scattered among the Gentiles.

But do you observe from this also His munificence.

As many as you shall find, He says, call to the wedding feast.

For before this, as I said, they discoursed both to Jews and to Greeks, spending the greater part of their time in Judea;

but when they persisted in plotting against them, hear Paul interpreting this parable and speaking thus: 'It was necessary that the word of God should first be spoken to you.'

But since you judge yourselves unworthy, behold, we turn to the Gentiles.

For this reason He too says:

The wedding is ready, but those who were bidden were not worthy.

Now He knew this even before this;

but in order that He might leave them no pretext for any shameless contradiction, though He knew it, He both came to them first and sent to them first, both stopping their mouths, and teaching us to fulfill all that is on our part, even though no one is likely to gain anything thereby.

Since therefore they were not worthy, 'Go,' He says, 'to the crossroads, and as many as you shall find, call them;'

both the chance passers-by and the outcasts.

For since He had said again and again that 'Harlots and tax-collectors shall inherit heaven;'

and, 'The first shall be last, and the last first;'

He shows that these things come to pass justly;

which most of all things stung the Jews, and galled them more grievously than their overthrow, namely to see those from among the Gentiles brought into their own privileges, and into far greater privileges than theirs.

Then, that these too might not presume upon faith alone, He discourses to them also concerning the judgment that comes upon wicked deeds—to those who had not yet believed, concerning coming to the faith; but to those who had believed, concerning diligence in their manner of life.

For the garment is one's life and conduct.

And indeed the calling was of grace;

why then does He inquire so exactly? Because to be called and to be cleansed was of grace;

but for those who have been called and have put on clean garments to remain so, keeping them undefiled, belongs to the diligence of the called.

To be called came not from worthiness, but from grace.

It was therefore fitting to requite the grace, and not, after such honour, to display so great a wickedness.

But 'I did not enjoy,' he says, 'as much as the Jews.'

And yet you enjoyed far greater good things.

For the things which were being prepared for them throughout all that time, these you received all at once, though you were not worthy.

And the Gentiles are to glorify God for His mercy.

For the things which were owed to them, these you received. Wherefore also a heavy judgement is laid up for those who have grown slothful.

For just as those men insulted Him by not coming, so also you by thus reclining at table with a corrupt manner of life.

For to enter in filthy garments is this:

to depart hence having an unclean life.

Do you see how, even though the matter was so manifest, He does not punish beforehand, until the very sinner brings forth the verdict against himself? For by having nothing to answer, he condemned himself, and thus is carried off to the unspeakable punishments.

For do not, when you hear of darkness, suppose that He punishes him by this alone, by being sent into a lightless place; but there is also the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.

And this He says, indicating the unendurable agonies.

Hearken, all you who, having partaken of the mysteries and having come to the wedding, clothe your soul with filthy deeds.

Being what? Lame and maimed in soul, which is far more grievous than the mutilation of the body.

Have reverence for the loving-kindness of Him who called you, and let no one remain having filthy garments, but let each of us examine closely the robe of the soul.

We have no need of these gold-embroidered garments [which adorn our outward appearance], but of those which are within.

So long as we have these, it is hard to put on those.

It is not possible at the same time to adorn both soul and body.

It is not possible at the same time to serve mammon and to obey Christ as one ought.

Let us therefore put away this grievous tyranny.

For if someone were to adorn his house, hanging golden curtains, but were to make you sit naked in rags, you would not bear it patiently.

But behold, now this is what you do to yourself: adorning the house of your soul, I mean the body, with ten thousand curtains, but leaving her to sit in rags.

Do you not know that the king of the city ought rather to be adorned? For this very reason curtains of linen are provided for the city, but for the king the purple and the diadem.

So also you: clothe the body with a far meaner robe, but put upon the mind the purple, and set a crown upon it, and seat it upon a lofty and conspicuous chariot.

For now you do the contrary, adorning the city in manifold ways, but leaving the king, the mind, to be dragged along bound behind the irrational passions.

Do you not consider that you were called to a wedding, and to God's wedding? Do you not reckon how the summoned soul ought to enter into these bridal chambers, clothed with golden fringes, richly adorned? (Section 3)

Would you have me show you those who are thus arrayed, those who have the wedding garment? Call to mind those holy men, concerning whom I discoursed to you recently, who had garments of hair, who dwelt in the deserts.

These above all are they who have the garments of that wedding;

however many purple robes you might give them, they would not choose to take them;

but just as a king, if someone were to take the rags of a beggar and bid him be clothed in them, would loathe the garment,

so also do those men regard his purple robe.

And they experience this from no other cause than from knowing the beauty of their own robe.

For this reason they also spurn that purple mantle as a spider's web.

For the sackcloth taught them these things;

for indeed they are far loftier and more resplendent than the reigning monarch himself.

And if you were able to unfold the gates of the mind, and to behold their soul and all the adornment within, even to the earth you would fall, unable to endure the splendour of that comeliness, and the radiance of those garments, and the lightning-flash of their conscience.

For we could indeed point to men of old also, both great and admirable;

but since visible examples draw the grosser sort more effectively, for this reason I am sending you also to the tents of those holy men.

For they have nothing that grieves them, but inasmuch as they have pitched their huts in the heavens, they are thus encamped far from the miseries of the present life, drawn up in battle-array against the devil; and as though it were a dance, so do they wage war against him.

Therefore, having pitched their huts, they fled from cities and marketplaces and houses.

For the man who is at war cannot sit at home, but must set up his dwelling only in makeshift fashion, as one who is presently about to move off at once—thus.

Such were all those men, the very opposite of us.

For we live not as in a camp, but as in a city at peace.

For who, when on campaign, ever lays foundations and builds himself a house which a little later he is going to abandon? There is no one;

but even should anyone attempt it, he is put to death as a traitor.

Who, when on campaign, buys acres of land and enters into trade dealings? There is no one;

'For you have come here to make war,' it is said, 'not to keep a shop.'

Why then do you labor over the place which a little later you will leave behind? When we depart to our homeland, then do these things.

These same things I too now say to you.

When we withdraw to the city above, then do these things;

or rather, there you will have no need of labors at all;

for the rest, the King will accomplish everything for you.

But here it suffices only to trace a trench around and to set up a palisade;

and there is no need of any building.

Hear what sort of life the wagon-dwelling Scythians have, what manner of existence they say the nomads lead.

Thus ought Christians to live:

to go about the inhabited world, making war on the devil, delivering the captives who are held fast by him, and to be freed from all the concerns of this life.

O man, is it that you may bind yourself the more? Why do you bury a treasure, and summon the enemy against yourself? Why do you throw up walls, and construct for yourself a prison? But if these things seem hard to you, let us go off to the tents of those men, that through their deeds we may learn how easy it is.

For those men, having pitched their huts, even if they must depart from them, so depart as soldiers in time of peace who abandon the camp.

For indeed they are so encamped—nay rather, far more pleasantly.

For it is a more pleasant thing to behold a desert holding the continuous tents of monks than to behold soldiers in a camp stretching out awnings, and planting spears, and hanging from the spear-points saffron-colored banners, and a multitude of men with brazen heads, and the bosses of their shields flashing brightly, and men clad wholly in iron from head to foot, and makeshift royal quarters, and a wide plain spread out, and men taking their midday meal and playing the flute.

For that spectacle is not so delightful as the one I am now describing.

For if we go off into the desert and behold the tents of Christ's soldiers, we shall not see awnings stretched out, nor spear-points, nor golden robes forming a royal canopy, but such as if someone, on a land far vaster than this and boundless, had stretched out many heavens: he would have displayed a strange and awe-inspiring spectacle; even so is it possible to behold there.

For their dwelling-places are situated in no way worse than the heavens;

for angels also come down to them, and the Master of the angels.

For if they came to Abraham, a man having a wife and rearing children, because they saw him to be hospitable;

how much more, when they find a far greater virtue, and a man delivered from the body, and one who in the flesh despises the flesh, will they far rather tarry here, and join in the dance that befits them.

For indeed the table among those men is pure of all covetousness, and full of true wisdom.

There are no torrents of blood among them, nor choppings of meat, nor heaviness of head, nor rich sauces, nor unpleasant fumes among them, nor disagreeable smoke, nor runnings about and uproars and disturbances and burdensome shoutings;

the one is from a pure spring, the other from righteous labors.

And if ever they should wish to feast somewhat more sumptuously, the sumptuousness turns out to be fruits and nuts;

and the pleasure here is greater than at royal tables.

Here there is no fear and trembling; no ruler has brought an accusation, no wife has provoked, no child has cast into dejection, no unruly laughter has dissolved restraint, no throng of flatterers has puffed one up;

but it is a table of angels, freed from all such disturbance.

And for a bed there is simply grass laid beneath them, just as in the wilderness Christ, when He made the meal, did.

And many do not even do this under a roof, but instead of a roof they have the heaven, and the moon instead of lamplight—needing no oil, nor anyone to wait upon them;

To those alone does this table worthily descend from above.

This is the table which the angels also, beholding it from heaven, gaze upon with delight and rejoicing.

For if they rejoice over one sinner that repents, over so many righteous men who imitate them what will they not do? There is no master and slave there;

all are slaves, all are free.

And do not suppose that what is said is a riddle;

for indeed they are slaves of one another, and masters of one another.

There, when evening overtakes them, it is not their lot to fall into dejection, as many men do, reckoning up the anxieties that spring from the day's troubles.

After supper there is no need to be anxious about robbers, and to bar the doors, and to set on the bolts, nor to dread those other things which many dread, carefully putting out the lamps lest perchance a spark should set the house ablaze.

And their converse too is full of the same tranquillity.

For they do not utter such things as we discuss, matters that are nothing to us;

'So-and-so has become a magistrate; so-and-so has been removed from office; so-and-so has died, and another has succeeded to his inheritance,' and all such things;

but they always speak and reason as philosophers concerning things to come;

and as though dwelling in another world, as though they had already migrated into heaven itself, as though living there, so do they discourse of all the things that are there — of the bosom of Abraham, of the crowns of the saints, of the choral dance with Christ;

and of the things present with them there is neither memory nor mention;

but just as we would not think it worth while to say anything about what the ants do in their crevices and holes, so neither do they concern themselves with what we do; but of the King above, of the war that is on our hands, of the devices of the devil, of the achievements which the saints have achieved.

In what, then, do we, compared with those men, differ from ants? For just as they concern themselves with bodily things, so also do we;

and would that it were with these things only!

but as it is, with things far worse.

For we concern ourselves not only with the necessary things, as they do, but also with the superfluous.

For they pursue a way of gain that is free from all reproach;

but we pursue every kind of greed;

and we do not even imitate the ways of ants, but those of wolves, those of leopards;

or rather, we are even worse than these.

For to them nature has given to be nourished in this way;

but us God has honoured with reason and equality of rights, and yet we have become worse than the wild beasts.

And we, indeed, are worse than the brute beasts, while those men are equal to the angels, being strangers and sojourners with respect to the things here;

and everything with them is changed as compared with us — clothing, and food, and dwelling, and footwear, and speech.

And if anyone heard both them and us discoursing, then he would clearly perceive how they are citizens of heaven, but we are not even worthy of the earth.

For this very reason, when someone clothed in worldly dignity goes off to them, then above all is all his pride refuted.

For that tiller of the soil, that man wholly inexperienced in the affairs of life, sits beside the general who prides himself greatly on his office, upon a bed of straw, upon a filthy cushion.

For there are none there to exalt him and puff him up;

but the same thing happens as if one were to come to a goldsmith's and to a rose-garden;

for indeed from the gold and from the roses he receives a certain radiance;

so also do those men, gaining a little from the brightness of these, are rid of their former madness.

And just as if one were to come to a lofty place, even though he be very short, he appears lofty;

so also these men, when they come to those men's lofty thoughts, appear such as long as they remain there; but when they have come down, they are humbled again, descending from that height.

With those men a king is nothing, a prefect is nothing;

but just as we laugh when children play at these things, so also do they spurn the swollen pomp of those who bustle about in outward affairs.

for if one were to offer them a kingdom in security, they would never choose it;

but they would choose it, if they did not esteem themselves above it, if they did not consider the thing to be but temporary.

What then? Shall we not run over as deserters to so great a blessedness? Shall we not come to these angels? Shall we not receive clean garments, and take our part in the pomp of this wedding-feast? Or rather,

shall we remain begging, in no better condition than the poor at the crossroads, nay rather in a far worse and more wretched state? For those who are ill enriched are much worse off than these, and it is better to beg than to plunder;

for the one has pardon, but the other brings punishment;

and the one gives no offense to God, but this man offends both men and God;

and he undergoes the toils of his rapine, while others often reap all the enjoyment of it.

Knowing these things, then, and laying aside all covetousness, let us be covetous of the things above, seizing the kingdom with all earnestness.

For it is not possible—no, it is not possible—for one who is slothful to enter into it.

And may it be granted to us all, having become earnest and watchful, to attain unto it, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might unto the ages of ages.