Sermons 40

The title of this homily calls back to our memory that question which arose among the learned concerning the antiquity of the rite of blessing the palm branches in the Church. Edmund Martène, a Benedictine monk of the Congregation of Saint Maur, especially skilled in these matters, in that book which he entitled 'On the ancient discipline of the Church in celebrating the divine offices,' chapter 20, number 1, denies that any trace of that blessing exists in the liturgical books before the eighth century of the Christian name. For he observes that in the Roman calendar published by Fronto mention is made of the solemnity of the Sunday preceding Easter, but not of the blessing of Palms. On the contrary, others hold that the beginnings of that blessing must be traced further back.

Among their number is Benedict XIV, foremost in dignity as also in the praise of erudition and learning, and Meratus, part I, vol. I, page 1004. Their support is the more ancient Roman calendar, which they judge to have been written in the fourth century, or at least at the beginning of the fifth, and which is reported to have been found in two manuscript codices, one of which belongs to the Avignon monastery of Saint Andrew, the other to the monks of Grasse in Septimania—which calendar the editors of that same work, on pages 65 and 64, report to have been given as a gift to the same monastery by Charlemagne. In it, moreover, the station is thus appointed: 'On the Sunday in Palms, at Saint John in the Lateran.'

The same author appeals to the Sacramentary which is commonly called Gelasian, in which the Lord's day before Easter is called 'the Sunday in Palms concerning the Passion of the Lord.' From this they say it can easily be concluded that the name 'of Palms' clung to that Sunday for this reason, namely that on that day the palms were accustomed to be blessed. It is certainly not for me to determine which of these two opinions is the stronger. This much I say briefly: if the inscription of this homily is as ancient as the homily itself, then it must be admitted that already in the fifth century the rite of blessing palms had prevailed. Three Vatican codices, 385, 1268, 1269, present this title prefixed to this same homily: 'On the Sunday of Palms.' In the Sangallensis codex its heading is this: 'On Psalm 21 in the palm-branches.'

In the two Novariensis codices, 27 and 24: 'For Palm Sunday, a sermon of Blessed Maximus the bishop.' In the Cistercian codex of Monte Amiata: 'On the Sunday in Palms, a sermon of Blessed Maximus the bishop, on Psalm 21.' In the Saint Emmeram codex of Regensburg: 'The Sunday in the palm-branches, a sermon of Saint Maximus.' In the Augiensis: 'A sermon of Saint Maximus in Palms.' I acknowledge that in two codices of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, 90 and 99, in the Laurentianus I, Plut. XIV, and in the Taurinensis, the mention of Palms is omitted. Hence it can plainly be understood: first, that this homily must be ascribed to Maximus, since in none of the ancient codices is it attributed to any other, and in most it bears the name of Saint Maximus—which the editors Gymnicus, Galesinius, Raynaudus, and Margarinus freely concede;

and the character of the style agrees with the genuine homilies of Maximus, and there is the greatest conformity of thought in it with the rest of his work; second, that the title 'In the palm-branches' has rightly been preferred by us to the other titles, for the reason that a greater number of codices bears either this one or one similar to it. Of the twenty-first Psalm, which has been read, we ought first diligently to attend, as we are about to go through its sequence, to what its superscription contains, so that, its origin being known, we may more easily attain the understanding of it, and, the head being made manifest, the members may be more rightly distributed. For it is inscribed thus: 'Unto the end, for the morning reception, a psalm of David himself.'

Unless I am mistaken, the morning reception always precedes the rising of the sun, and before the bright splendor of its rays illumines the world, it sets a term by its darkness to the morning night; and, the blindness of the mists being gradually dissolved, a certain aspect and light is poured into all things; and although the world lay in confusion as though under one substance of darkness, when the morning intervenes it is distinguished by the diverse variety of forms; that is, when all things had been blind, the eyes of all are restored. For the night in a certain manner takes away the eyes from the world, and the dawn restores them; and thus we first enjoy the morning reception, that afterward we may more gloriously possess the splendor of the sun. But since, as the Apostle says:

The law is spiritual, and spiritual things must be compared with spiritual (Rom. 7; 1 Cor. 2), I judge that the Sun of righteousness is here signified; that is, Christ the Lord, who, when we were submerged in the darkness of ignorance and the blindness of sins, poured into us the light of His heavenly doctrine; and He inserted the eyes of the heart which we did not have, and, as it were like certain rays, He sent His apostles, who might free us from the most hideous night of transgression, and who, the darkness of sins being gradually dissolved in us, might accustom us to the morning reception; that, being perfected, we might more easily endure the heat of the sun—that is, they might first instruct us in simpler precepts, whereby they might make us more capable of the heavenly mysteries.

By the morning, therefore, of this Sun of righteousness, the whole darkness of sins is destroyed, as the prophet himself says in the person of the Lord: 'In the mornings I slew all the sinners of the earth' (Ps. 100). That is: when the Sun of righteousness rises in us, who are the dwelling-place of the Lord, every wicked thought is overthrown. Now this whole psalm is set forth in the person of the Lord and Savior, seeing that many things are placed concerning Him in the New Testament. He says, therefore: 'God, my God, look upon me,' and the rest. Wherefore He pleads the cause of the man He assumed, so that He seems in a certain way to be questioning, saying: 'God of all, who art my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? For I am conscious of nothing in myself.'

For according to the prophet He knew no sin, nor was there guile in His mouth. But He says these things in order to make manifest that He was forsaken on account of us, whose sins He bore, and that we, seeing this, might learn to die even for Him who is holy and just, since He too was dying for sinners. Finally, He used this cry in His Passion, as we read in the Gospel: 'Eli, Eli, lamma sabacthani?' that is, 'My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' (Matt. 27). This cry, I say, He used, so that the outcome of the matter might confirm what the prophecy had announced. And since the following words are almost self-evident, let us look upon that little verse in which He says: 'But I am a worm and no man' (Ps. 21).

Why the Lord of all creation should have willed to compare Himself to a little worm—this indeed we can first assign to humility, which is the greatest virtue of the saints, just as holy Moses professes himself before God to be an irrational animal, and David often makes mention of himself as a flea. But rather I think this is to be understood: since a worm is generated with no admixture from without of a foreign body, but from earth alone and pure, therefore He was compared to a worm, because the Savior Himself likewise is begotten from Mary alone and pure. I have also read in the books of Moses that little worms were generated from the manna (Exod. 16): a wholly fitting and just comparison; for indeed a little worm is begotten from the manna, and the Lord Christ is begotten from the Virgin.

Nay rather, I would call Mary herself the manna, because she is fine, shining, sweet, and a virgin; who, as though coming from heaven, flowed down as food sweeter than honey to all the peoples of the Churches—which food whoever neglects to eat and to chew shall not be able to have life in himself, as the Lord Himself says: 'Unless a man eat My flesh and drink My blood, he shall not have life in himself' (John 6); but rather that very food shall be turned into judgment, as the Apostle says: 'He who eats and drinks unworthily, eats judgment to himself' (1 Cor. 11). This was subtly prophesied to the children of Israel in the Testament. For the manna, when they handled it against the divine precepts, was turned into worms; that is, into avengers and judges of their obstinacy.

This likeness points to Christ the Lord: whom whoever neglects to drink in as sweet food and sweet drink, shall suffer as judge, as He Himself says: 'For neither does the Father judge any man, but has given all judgment to the Son' (John 5). But as to His saying, 'They divided My garments among themselves, and upon My vesture they cast lots' (Ps. 21; John 19): we find this done in the Gospel, that the four soldiers who crucified the Savior divided His garments among themselves into four parts; but His vesture, which was not seamed but was woven from the top, they received by lot. Let us see, therefore, what these garments are, who the soldiers, and what also the vesture.

I think the garments to be the prophecies, or the readings of the heavenly Scriptures, by which the sacrament of Christ the Lord was announced; which prophecies, singing of one and announcing one through all things, the adversaries of the Savior—that is, the perverse heretics, who daily lay impious hands upon Him as though they were soldiers—divide among themselves each according to his own will, and distribute the garments of the one body through diverse members, despoiling the Lord, clothing their false doctrines with His vesture. But His vesture, which was not seamed, we can rightly apply to His heavenly wisdom, since it was woven from the top. For our wisdom, that is human wisdom, is stitched together;

it is stitched together when we send our children to the grammarians for study, and instruct them among the philosophers, so that wisdom, which was not in them, may be acquired. But the wisdom of the Lord was woven, not sought; for He did not learn from a master, as the Jews themselves say: 'How does this man know letters, having never learned?'—and He Himself says: 'My doctrine is not of this world, but of Him who sent me' (John 7). This is what He means by 'woven from the top': with which vesture, or with which garments, the Catholic Church is always clothed, as the prophet says: 'The queen stood at Thy right hand in gilded clothing' (Ps. 44).