約翰福音講道集 第 86 章

'Then therefore Pilate delivered him to them, that he might be crucified.'

'And they took Jesus, and led him away.'

'And bearing his own cross, he went forth to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Hebrew is Golgotha, where they crucified him.'

Prosperities are terrible things, apt to cast down and to sweep away those who are not on their guard.

So too the Jews, in the beginning enjoying the inclination of God's favor toward them, sought after the law of the Gentiles' kingdom, and in the wilderness, after the manna, remembered the onions.

In the very same manner here also, refusing the kingdom of Christ, they called down upon themselves the rule of Caesar.

For this cause, therefore, God set over them a king according to their own sentence.

Since, then, Pilate heard these things, he delivered him up to be crucified.

For he ought to have inquired whether Christ had indeed been eager to seize the tyranny; instead, out of fear alone he pronounced the sentence.

And yet, that he might not suffer this, Christ had said beforehand:

'My kingdom is not of this world.'

But Pilate, giving himself wholly over to present things, was unwilling to reflect on anything great.

And yet his wife's dream had been enough to strike him with terror.

But by none of these things did he become better, nor did he look toward heaven, but delivered him up.

And they laid the cross upon him, henceforth as upon one condemned.

For indeed they regarded the wood as an accursed thing, and could not even bear to touch it.

So it happened also in the type:

for Isaac too bore the wood.

But then indeed the matter stopped at the father's intention (for it was a type);

but now it came forth even in the deeds themselves.

'And he came unto the Place of a Skull.'

Some say that there Adam died and lies buried;

and that Jesus, in the place where death had reigned, there also set up his trophy.

For indeed he went forth bearing the cross as a trophy against the tyranny of death;

and just as conquerors do, so he too bore upon his shoulders the symbol of victory.

For what does it matter, even if the Jews commanded these things with another intent? They crucify him also with robbers, herein too, though unwillingly, fulfilling the prophecy.

For the very things which these men did by way of insult contributed to the truth;

that you may learn how great is its power.

For this too the prophet had foretold from of old, that 'He was numbered with the transgressors.'

The demon therefore wished to cast a shadow over what was taking place;

for the three indeed were crucified, but Jesus alone shone forth;

that you may learn that his power wrought the whole.

And yet, though the three were nailed upon the cross, the wonders came to pass in this way;

yet nevertheless no one attributed any of the things that happened to any of those others, but to Jesus alone;

so stale did the devil's plot become, and the whole was turned back upon his own head.

For indeed of these two one was saved.

Therefore he not only did no injury to the glory of the crucified one, but even contributed no little to it;

for to transform a robber upon the cross and to bring him into paradise was no less than to make the rocks quake.

And Pilate wrote also a title, at once taking vengeance on the Jews, and at once making a defense on Christ's behalf.

For since they had given him up as a malefactor, and were endeavoring to confirm this verdict by his fellowship with the robbers, so that henceforth it might be permitted to no one

to bring wicked charges and to accuse him as some base and wicked person, Pilate—stopping their mouths, and the mouths of all who wished to accuse, and showing that they had risen up against their own king—set up the writing as upon a trophy, sending forth a resounding voice, declaring the victory, and proclaiming the kingdom, even if not in its fullness;

and this he made plain not in one tongue, but in three languages.

For since it was likely that many of mixed peoples were among the Jews because of the feast, so that no one might be ignorant of the vindication, he branded the madness of the Jews by means of all these tongues.

For indeed they envied him even when crucified.

And yet, what harm did this do you? None.

For if he was mortal and weak and about to be extinguished, why do you fear the writing that says he is King of the Jews? And what do they say? 'Write that he said it himself.'

For now it is a declaration and a common verdict;

but if there be added, 'That man said it,' then the charge is shown to be one of his own rashness and arrogance.

But Pilate was not turned aside, but stood by his former judgment.

And no small thing is providentially ordered from hence also, but the whole.

For since the wood of the cross had been buried, inasmuch as no one was zealous to take it up—both because fear pressed upon them, and because pressing matters hastened the believers to other things, and it was to be sought out in later times—and it was likely that the three crosses lay together;

in order that the Master's cross might not be unknown, it became manifest to all, first from its lying in the midst, and then from the title;

for those of the robbers had no titles.

'And the soldiers parted the garments, but the coat they did not.'

See everywhere how, through the very things they did in their wickedness, the prophecies were fulfilled.

For this also had been foretold from of old.

And yet indeed three men were being crucified;

but the things of the prophecies were being fulfilled upon him.

For why did they not do this with the others, but only with him? But do you consider with me the exactness of the prophecy.

For the prophet spoke not only of what they divided, but also of what they did not divide.

The garments then they divided, but the coat they did not divide, but committed the matter to a lot.

And the phrase 'woven from the top' is not set down without purpose;

but some say that by it an allegory is signified, namely that the crucified one was not simply a man, but also had his Godhead from above.

But some say that the evangelist is here recording the very fashion of the little coat.

For since in Palestine they weave garments by joining together two pieces of cloth, John, showing that the tunic was of this kind, says that it was 'woven from the top.'

And this, it seems to me, he says while hinting at the cheapness of the garments, and that just as in all other things, so also in his attire he sought the plain and simple fashion.

Now the soldiers did these things;

but he, even as he was being crucified, commended his mother to the disciple, teaching us to exercise every care for those who begot us, even to our last breath.

Now when she importuned him unseasonably, he said,

'What have I to do with thee, woman?' and, 'Who is my mother?' But here he displays great tender affection, and commends her to the disciple whom he loved.

Again John conceals himself out of modesty;

for if he had wished to boast, he would have added the reason on account of which he was loved;

and indeed it was likely to have been some great and wonderful thing.

But why does he say nothing else to John, nor console him in his dejection? Because it was not a fitting time for consolation by words.

And besides, it was no small thing to be honored with such an honor, and to receive the reward of his steadfast attendance.

But consider with me how, even while crucified, he did all things without disturbance—conversing with the disciple concerning his mother, fulfilling prophecies, holding out good hopes to the thief.

And yet before he was crucified he appears sweating, in agony, in dread.

What then is this? There is nothing perplexing here, nothing obscure.

For there the weakness of his nature was shown;

but here the abundance of his power was displayed.

And in another way too, by both these things he instructs us: that even if before dangers we are troubled, we should not on that account draw back from the dangers;

for once we have entered into the contest, all becomes most easy.

Let us not then tremble at death;

for the soul has by nature a love of life;

but it lies henceforth in our own power either to loosen its bonds and make the desire weak, or to bind it fast and render it more tyrannical.

For just as we have the desire for the union of bodies, yet when we practice self-discipline we make its tyranny weak,

so also it happens in the case of life.

For as God has implanted the desire of bodies for the sake of the begetting of children, providing for the succession of our race, yet not hindering the higher road of continence from being traveled;

so also he has sown the longing for life, forbidding us to destroy ourselves, yet not hindering us from despising the present life.

And knowing these things, we must keep the due measures, and neither go to death of our own accord at any time, though it should hold countless terrors;

nor, when dragged to it for the sake of what seems good to God, shrink back and hesitate, but with courage strip for the contest, preferring the life to come to the present one.

Now the women stood beside the cross;

and the weaker sex then appeared the more manly;

so completely was everything henceforth transformed.

And he himself, having commended his mother, says—

with how great an honor did he honor the disciple!

For since he himself was now departing, he handed her over to the disciple to care for her.

For since it was likely, being his mother, that she would grieve and seek protection, he fittingly entrusts her to the one she loved.

And he said these things, knitting them together in love;

which indeed the disciple, understanding, took her to his own home.

For why did he make mention of no other woman, though another too was standing there? To teach us to render something more to our mothers.

For just as, when parents oppose us in spiritual matters, we ought not even to acknowledge them;

so, when they hinder in nothing, we ought to render them all that is fitting, and to set them before all others, in return for their bearing us, in return for their rearing us, in return for the countless hardships they endured.

In this way too he stops the shameless mouth of Marcion.

For if he was not born according to the flesh, nor had a mother, why does he take such great forethought for her alone? After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished—

that is, that nothing was lacking to the divine economy.

For everywhere he was earnest to show that this death was a strange one, seeing that the whole matter lay in the power of him who was dying, and that death did not come upon the body until he himself willed it;

and he willed it after fulfilling all things.

'I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it again.'

Knowing then that all things were fulfilled, he says, 'I thirst,' here again fulfilling a prophecy.

But consider with me the abominable conduct of those who stood by.

For though we may have countless enemies, and have suffered irreparable wrongs, yet when we see them being put to death, we are bowed with compassion;

but these men were not even so reconciled to him, nor made gentle by the things they saw, but rather grew more savage and heightened their mockery;

and having applied a sponge with vinegar, they gave him to drink in such a way as it is offered to condemned criminals—for which reason the hyssop too is added.

Having received it then, he says, 'It is finished.'

Do you see him doing all things without disturbance and with authority? And what follows makes this plain also.

For since all had been accomplished, 'having bowed his head' (for neither was this nailed fast), 'he gave up the spirit,' that is, he breathed his last.

And yet the giving up of the spirit did not come after the bowing of the head;

for it was not because he breathed his last that he bowed his head, which is what happens in our case;

but because he bowed his head, then he breathed his last.

By all these things the evangelist showed that he himself was Lord of all.

But the Jews again—those who swallow the camel and strain out the gnat—having wrought so great an outrage, are scrupulous about the day.

For since it was now the day of Preparation, in order that the bodies might not remain on the cross, they asked Pilate that their legs might be broken.

Do you see how strong the truth is? By the very means through which those men are zealous, through these the prophecy is fulfilled.

For from these another foretelling of theirs receives its fulfillment.

The legs of the others they broke, but those of Christ no longer.

But nevertheless these men, to gratify the Jews, pierced his side with the spear, and thus henceforth insulted the dead body.

O the abominable and accursed purpose!

But be not troubled, nor cast down, beloved.

For the things which they did from an evil intent, these were contending on the side of the truth.

For there was a prophecy which said even from this,

'They shall look on him whom they pierced.'

And not this only, but the deed that was dared also became a proof of faith to those who were about to disbelieve, such as Thomas and those like him.

And together with this an unspeakable mystery too was being accomplished.

And these fountains did not flow forth simply or by mere chance;

but because the Church is constituted of both of these.

And they who are initiated into the mysteries know this: born again through water, and nourished through the blood and the flesh.

From this point the mysteries take their beginning, so that when you approach the awesome cup, you may approach it as though drinking from that very side.

And this he who saw it has borne witness to, and his witness is true;

that is to say: I did not hear it from others, but I myself was present and saw it, and the witness is true.

For he is recounting an outrage that took place;

he is not recounting some great and marvelous thing, such as might make you suspicious of his account;

but he himself, safeguarding against the mouths of the heretics, and proclaiming beforehand the mysteries that were to come, and beholding the treasure stored up in these things, speaks with precision concerning what occurred.

And that prophecy also is fulfilled, that 'A bone of him shall not be broken.'

For even though this was spoken concerning the lamb of the Jews, yet for the sake of the truth the type ran ahead, and it was fulfilled the more fully in this case.

For this reason he also brought the prophet into the midst.

For since, bringing himself forward again and again, he did not seem to be worthy of credit, he introduces Moses, saying that this did not happen simply, but was written beforehand from of old.

And this is that saying, that 'A bone of him shall not be broken.'

And again he lends credibility to the prophet from himself.

'These things,' he says, 'I have spoken, that you may learn how great is the kinship of the type to the truth.'

Do you see how much zeal he uses in order that what seems to be a reproach and to bring shame may be believed? For that the soldier should outrage even a dead body was far worse than being crucified.

'But nevertheless,' he says, 'I have spoken even these things, and spoken them with much diligence, that you may believe.'

Let no one therefore disbelieve, nor, being ashamed, do injury to our cause.

For the very things that seem to be most reproachful, these are the boast of our blessings.

After these things there came Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple;

not of the twelve, but perhaps of the seventy.

For thereafter, supposing that the wrath had been quenched by the cross, they came forward with confidence, and took care of the burial.

Coming forward, therefore, he asks the favor from Pilate, and that man grants it.

For why should he not? Nicodemus also joins in assisting him, and makes the burial costly.

For they were still disposed toward him as toward a mere man.

And they bring those spices which are especially able to preserve the body for a long time, and not to allow it quickly to yield to corruption;

which was the act of those who imagined nothing great concerning him;

yet nevertheless they displayed much tender affection.

But how was it that none of the twelve came forward, not John, not Peter, nor any other of the notable ones? And the disciple does not conceal even this.

For if one should allege the fear of the Jews, these men too were held fast by the same fear;

for this man too was, it says, 'hidden for fear of the Jews.'

And no one can say that he did this out of exceeding contempt for them, but though he too was afraid, nevertheless he came forward.

But John, though present and having seen him expire, did no such thing.

What then is it? To me he seems to have been one of the very notable men (and this is plain also from the burial garments), and to have been well known to Pilate;

and so he now buries him, not as one condemned, but according to the custom of the Jews, sumptuously, as some great and admirable person.

But since they were pressed by the time (for the death having taken place at the ninth hour,

and then, while they were meanwhile going to Pilate and taking down the body, it was likely that evening would overtake them, in which it was not lawful to work), they lay him in the nearby tomb.

And it was so arranged that he should be laid in a new tomb, where no one had been laid, so that the resurrection might not be thought to have belonged to some other person who lay with him;

and that the disciples might be able to come easily and become eyewitnesses of what took place, the place being near;

and that not they alone, but also the enemies, might be witnesses of the burial.

For to set seals upon the tomb, and for soldiers to be stationed there as guards, was the act of men bearing witness to the burial;

for Christ was as eager that this should be confessed no less than the resurrection.

Wherefore the disciples too take much pains about this, so as to show that he died.

For the resurrection all the time that followed was to establish;

but the other, if it had then been thrown into shadow and had not become quite manifest, would have done injury to the doctrine of the resurrection.

And it was not only for these reasons that he was laid nearby, but also so that the story about the theft might be shown to be false.

And on the first day of the week (that is, the Lord's Day), while it was yet deep dawn, Mary Magdalene comes early, and sees the stone taken away from the tomb. For he had risen while both the stone and the seals still lay upon it.

But since it was necessary that the others also should be fully assured, the tomb is opened after the resurrection, and thus what had happened is confirmed.

This, at any rate, moved Mary also.

For being very tenderly affectionate toward the Teacher, when the sabbath was past, she could not bear to remain at rest, but came while it was yet deep dawn, desiring to find some consolation from the place.

And seeing the place, and the stone taken away, she did not go in, nor stoop down, but ran to the disciples out of her great longing.

For this was what she was intent upon: she wished with all speed to learn what had become of the body.

For her running intended this, and her words make this plain.

For 'They have taken away,' she says, 'my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.'

Do you see how she knew nothing clear as yet concerning the resurrection, but supposed that a removal of the body had taken place, and reports everything to the disciples without artifice? And the evangelist did not deprive the woman of so great a commendation, nor did he count it a shame that they should learn these things from her, who had first kept vigil through the night;

so everywhere the truth-loving character of his ways shines forth.

When therefore she had come and said these things, those men, having heard, with much diligence come to the tomb, and behold the linen cloths lying;

which was a sign of the resurrection.

For neither, if any had removed it, would they have done this after stripping the body;

nor, if they had stolen it, would they have taken thought to take up the napkin and fold it and lay it in one place;

but how? They would have taken the body just as it was.

For on this account John, anticipating, says that he was buried with much myrrh, which no less than lead cements the linen cloths to the body;

that, when you hear that the napkins lay by themselves, you may not endure those who say that he was stolen.

For the thief was not so foolish as to expend such great pains upon a superfluous matter.

For why should he leave the napkins? And how could he escape notice in doing this? For it was likely that he would spend much time, and by loitering and delaying would be caught in the act.

And why then do the linen cloths lie by themselves, and the napkin wrapped up by itself? That you may learn that it was not the deed of men in haste or in confusion—to place and fold these apart from those and those apart from these.

From this they believed in the resurrection.

For this reason Christ afterward appears to them, when they had been assured by the sight.

Observe, then, here too the freedom from vanity of the evangelist, how he bears witness to Peter's accuracy in the search.

For having outrun him and seen the linen cloths lying there, he inquires no further, but stands aside;

But that ardent one, having gone further in, examined everything carefully and saw something more; and then this one too was moved to belief by the sight.

For entering after him, he saw the burial wrappings lying there.

For to have parted them, and to have laid this apart and that apart after rolling it up, was the work of one acting with care, and not of one thrown into disorder by chance.

But when you hear that the Master rose naked, cease from your frenzy over funeral rites.

For what does this superfluous and useless expense intend, bringing much loss to those who bury, yet no gain at all to the departed—nay, if one must speak the truth, even harm? For the costliness of the burial has often been the cause of grave-robbing, and has made him who was carefully buried lie naked and unburied.

how great a tyranny it displays even in mourning, how great a folly!

Many, at any rate, so that this may not happen, have cut up those fine linen cloths and filled them with abundant spices, so that they may be doubly useless to those who would abuse them, and thus have committed them to the earth.

Is this not the act of men out of their senses—to make a display of lavishness, and again to destroy it? 'Yes,' he says;

'in order that these things may lie safely beside the dead, we contrive all this.'

What then? If the grave-robbers do not take them, will not the moths and the worms take them? And again, if the moths and worms do not take them, will not time and corruption destroy them? But let us grant that neither grave-robbers, nor moths, nor worms, nor time, nor anything else consumes what lies there;

and grant further that the body remains untouched until the resurrection, and that these very things are kept new, freshly made, and fine—what more comes of this to the departed, when the body is raised naked, but these remain here and profit us nothing toward that reckoning? Why then, one asks, did it take place in the case of Christ? Above all, do not compare these things with human affairs;

since the harlot also poured out ointment upon those holy feet of His.

But if we must speak concerning these matters too—

in the first place, these things were done by those who did not yet know the doctrine of the resurrection.

'As was the custom of the Jews.'

For it was not those of the Twelve who thus honored Christ, but those others who did not greatly honor Him.

The Twelve, at any rate, honored Him not in this way, but by death and slaughter and by the perils they endured for His sake.

That indeed was also an honor, but far inferior to the one of which I spoke.

But apart from that, as I said in speaking, our discourse now concerns human beings;

whereas at that time these things were done concerning the Master.

And that you may learn that Christ takes no account of these things, He said:

'You saw Me hungry, and you fed Me;

and thirsty, and you gave Me drink;

and naked, and you clothed Me.'

And nowhere did He say, 'And dead, and you buried Me.'

And I say these things not to abolish burial;

but to cut away wastefulness and untimely ostentation.

'For it is the passion,' one says, 'and the grief, and the sympathy toward the departed that persuade us to these things.'

These are not the marks of sympathy toward the departed, but of vainglory.

For if you wish to grieve together with the dead, I show you another way of burial, and I teach you to lay on him garments that will rise together with him and make him resplendent.

For these garments are neither consumed by moths, nor wasted by time, nor stolen by grave-robbers.

What sort of garments are these? The robe of almsgiving.

For this robe rises together with him;

for the seal of almsgiving is with him.

From these garments shine forth those who then hear, 'You fed Me when I was hungry.'

These make men conspicuous, these make them illustrious, these establish them in safety;

but the things of the present are nothing else than food for moths and a table for worms.

And I say these things not to forbid the burying, but that it be done with moderation, so as to cover the body and not to deliver it naked to the earth.

For if He commands the living to have nothing more than covering,

much more the dead.

For the body that has died does not need garments as does one living and breathing.

For while living, we need the clothing of garments both for the sake of cold and of decency;

but having died, we need none of these things, yet we do need the grave-clothes, that the body may not lie naked;

and even before the grave-clothes we have a most beautiful covering, the earth, more befitting the nature of such bodies.

If then, where there are so many needs, one ought to seek nothing superfluous,

much more, where the necessity is not so great, is the ostentation untimely.

'But those who see will laugh,' one says.

Above all, even if there be someone who laughs, one ought not to make much account of him who is so exceedingly foolish;

but as it is, there are many rather who marvel and who accept our philosophy.

For these things are not worthy of laughter, but rather what we now do—wailing, mourning, burying ourselves together with the departed.

These are worthy both of laughter and of punishment.

But to practice wisdom both in these matters and in moderation of garments procures for us crowns and praises; and all will applaud us and marvel at the power of Christ, and will say:

'Wonderful! How great is the strength of the Crucified One!

He has persuaded those who perish and pass away that death is not death;

and so they do not act as those who perish, but rather as those who send others forth on a better journey.'

He has persuaded them that this corruptible and earthly body will put on a garment far more resplendent than those of silk and gold-inwoven—namely, incorruption.

Wherefore they take no great pains over the burial, but regard a virtuous life as a marvelous shroud.

These things, if they see men practicing wisdom, they will say;

but if they see men bowed down, behaving effeminately, gathering choruses of wailing women, they will laugh and mock and heap up countless accusations, ridiculing the vain expense and the fruitless toil.

For indeed we hear all men bringing these accusations;

For what defense shall we have, when we adorn the body that is being consumed into corruption and worms, but overlook Christ thirsting, going about naked and a stranger? Let us therefore cease from this vain zeal;

let us bury the departed as is profitable both to us and to them, unto the glory of God;

let us perform much almsgiving on their behalf, let us send with them the most excellent provisions for the journey.

For if the memory of wonderful men who have died has stood as a protection for the living (for He says, 'I will shield this city for My own sake and for the sake of David My servant'), much more will almsgiving accomplish this.

For this—yes, this—even raised the dead, when the widows stood around showing all that Dorcas made while she was with them.

When, therefore, someone is about to die, let the kinsman of the dying prepare the grave-clothes, and let him persuade the departing one to leave something to those in need.

With these garments let him send him forth, and let him persuade him to leave Christ also as heir.

For if kings, by enrolling men as heirs, leave to their households immense security;

consider how much goodwill he who leaves Christ along with his children will draw both to himself and to all who are his.

These are the fair burial-garments;

these profit both those who remain and those who depart.

If we are buried in this manner, we shall be resplendent at the season of the resurrection;

but if, while tending the body, we neglect the soul, we shall suffer many dreadful things there and incur much derision.

For it is no ordinary disgrace to depart stripped bare of virtue;

nor is a body cast out unburied so put to shame as a soul is when it then appears bare of virtue.

Let us clothe the soul, let us wrap it about, most of all throughout the whole of our lifetime;

but if here we have been negligent, let us at least be sober as we come to our end, and let us charge our own household to work together with us after we have departed, by means of almsgiving on our behalf.

Thus, being helped by one another, may we attain to great boldness, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.