馬太福音講道集 第 44 章

'While He was yet speaking to the multitudes, behold, His mother and His brethren stood without, seeking to speak with Him.'

'Behold, Thy mother and Thy brethren stand without, seeking to speak with Thee.' But He answered and said to him that told Him: 'Who is My mother, and who are My brethren?' And stretching forth His hand toward His disciples, He said:

'Behold My mother and My brethren.' (1)

What I was saying a while ago, that in the absence of virtue all things are superfluous, this is now also shown with great abundance.

For I was saying that age, and nature, and dwelling in the wilderness, and all such things are of no profit when a good disposition is lacking;

but today we learn something yet further, that not even to have borne Christ in the womb and to have brought forth that wondrous birth has any profit, when virtue is lacking.

And this is especially clear from what follows.

'For while He was yet speaking to the multitudes,' it says, someone said to Him that 'Thy mother and Thy brethren are seeking Thee.'

'Who is My mother, and who are My brethren?' Now He said this, not being ashamed of His mother, nor denying her that bore Him;

for had He been ashamed, He would not even have passed through that womb;

but He was making it plain that this profited her nothing, unless she did all that was required.

For indeed what she attempted sprang from superfluous vanity;

for she wished to display to the people that she had authority and control over her Son, forming as yet no lofty conception concerning Him;

wherefore also she approached unseasonably.

Observe therefore both her folly and theirs.

For whereas they ought to have entered and listened with the crowd, or, if they did not wish this, to have waited for Him to conclude His discourse, and then to have approached;

yet they call Him outside, and do this before all, displaying superfluous vanity, and wishing to show that with great authority they lay their commands upon Him.

And this the Evangelist too is shown to censure;

for hinting at this very thing, he spoke thus:

'While He was yet speaking to the multitudes.'

For was there no other opportunity? Was it not possible to converse with Him in private? And what did they even wish to say? For if it was concerning the doctrines of the truth, they ought to have added these in public, and to have spoken before all, so that the others too might profit;

but if it was concerning other matters that pertained to themselves, they ought not so to have pressed upon Him.

For if He did not permit a man to bury his father, in order that the following of Him might not be interrupted, much more ought He not to have broken off His public discourse for the sake of matters that in no way concerned it.

Whence it is plain that they did this out of vainglory alone;

which John also, making it plain, said, that 'Neither did His brethren believe in Him;'

and he reports their words too, full of much senselessness, saying that they were dragging Him to Jerusalem, for no other reason than that they themselves might reap glory from His signs;

'For if Thou doest these things,' they say, 'show Thyself to the world;'

'for no one does anything in secret, and yet himself seeks to be known openly;'

when He also rebuked them, blaming their carnal disposition.

For since the Jews reproached Him and said:

'Is not this the carpenter's son, whose father and mother we know? And are not His brethren here among us?' — wishing to repel the meanness derived from His lineage, they summoned Him to a display of the signs.

For this reason He repels them, wishing to heal their malady;

since if He had wished to deny His mother, it was then, when they reproached Him, that He would have denied her.

But now He is seen to take such forethought for her, as even at the very cross to commit her to the disciple most beloved of all, and to lay many charges upon him concerning her.

But it is not now that He does this, in His care for her and His brethren.

For since they gave heed to Him as to a mere man, and were vainglorious, He casts out the disease, not insulting them, but setting them right.

But do not you scrutinize only the words, which contain a measured rebuke, but also the impropriety and boldness of the brethren, which they dared, and who it was that rebuked them;

not a man, but the only-begotten Son of God;

and with what intent He rebuked;

for it was not that He wished to drive them to despair, but to deliver them from that most tyrannical malady, and little by little to lead them into a fitting conception concerning Him, and to persuade them that He was not her Son only, but also her Lord;

and you will see that the rebuke was exceedingly becoming to Him, and profitable to her, and withal that it contained much gentleness.

For neither did He say, 'Go, tell My mother, Thou art not My mother,' but He directs His answer to him that had spoken, saying:

'Who is My mother?' — establishing yet another thing along with what has been said.

What then is this? That neither those nor others, trusting in kinship, should neglect virtue. For if being His mother profits her nothing, unless that other thing be present, hardly shall any other be saved by reason of kinship. For there is one nobility alone, to do the will of God.

This manner of nobility is better and more authoritative than that.

Knowing these things then, let us not be high-minded because of illustrious children, if we have not their virtue;

nor because of noble fathers, unless we be of like character with them.

For it is possible both that he who begat should not be a father, and that he who begat not should be one.

For this very reason also, in another place, when a certain woman said:

'Blessed is the womb that bore Thee, and the breasts which Thou didst suck;'

He did not say, 'The womb did not bear Me,' nor 'I did not suck at breasts;'

'Yea rather, blessed are they that do the will of My Father.'

Do you see how, up and down, He does not deny the natural kinship, but adds that according to virtue? And the Forerunner too, when he said, 'Ye offspring of vipers, think not to say, We have Abraham to our father,' shows not this, that they were not of Abraham according to nature, but that it profited them nothing to be of Abraham, unless they had the kinship that comes from manner of life;

which Christ also, making it plain, said:

'If ye were the children of Abraham, ye would do the works of Abraham.'

He was not depriving them of their kinship according to the flesh, but training them to seek out that kinship which is greater and more authoritative than this.

This very thing He here establishes also, but in a manner less burdensome and more harmonious;

for indeed His word was addressed to His mother.

For neither did He say, 'She is not my mother, nor are those my brethren, because they do not do my will;'

nor did He pronounce sentence and condemn them;

but rather He still left them masters of their own will, speaking with the gentleness that becomes Him.

For 'whosoever,' saith He, 'shall do the will of my Father, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.'

So that if they wish to be such, let them come by this way.

And when the woman cried out, saying, 'Blessed is the womb that bare Thee,' He said not, 'She is not my mother,' but, 'If she wishes to be blessed, let her do the will of my Father.'

For such a one is both brother, and sister, and mother.

See to what a height He raises the one who follows after this way.

How many women have counted that holy Virgin blessed, and the womb that bore Him, and have prayed to become such mothers, and to give up all things!

What then is there to hinder? For behold, He hath cut for us a broad road, and it is possible not for women only, but also for men, to come into such a rank;

nay, rather, into one yet far greater.

For this makes one a mother far more than those pangs of childbirth.

So that if that was accounted blessed, much more is this, inasmuch as it is also the more authoritative.

Do not therefore merely desire it;

but also walk with all diligence in the road that leads thee to the object of thy desire.

Having said these things, then, He went out of the house.

Sawest thou how He both rebuked, and yet did the very thing they longed for? This same thing He does also at the marriage feast.

For there too He rebuked her when she asked unseasonably, and yet He did not refuse;

by the former correcting her weakness, and by the latter displaying His affection towards His mother.

So here too He both healed the disease of vainglory, and rendered the fitting honour to His mother, even though she was asking unseasonably.

For 'on that day,' saith He, 'Jesus went out of the house, and sat by the sea side.'

'For if ye wish,' saith He, 'to see and to hear, behold, I go forth and I discourse.'

For since He had wrought many signs, He again affords the benefit that comes from teaching.

the benefit that comes from teaching.

And He sits by the sea, fishing and drawing in with His net those who are on the land.

And He sat by the sea not without purpose;

and this very thing the Evangelist has set down, hinting at a deeper meaning.

For to show that He did this out of a wish to gather the audience with exactness, and so as to leave none behind His back, but to have all facing Him, 'And there were gathered together unto Him,' saith he, 'great multitudes, so that He went into a boat, and sat;'

'and all the multitude stood on the shore.'

And having sat down there, He speaks by parables.

'And He spake unto them,' saith he, 'many things in parables.'

And yet on the mountain He did not so, nor did He weave His discourse with so many parables;

for then there were only multitudes and an unartificial common folk;

but here there were also scribes and Pharisees.

But do thou consider for me which parable He speaks first, and how Matthew sets them down in due order.

Which then does He speak first? The very one that it was most fitting to speak first, the one that makes the hearer more attentive.

For since He was about to discourse in a riddling manner, He first rouses up the mind of the hearers by the parable.

For this reason another Evangelist also says that He rebuked them because they did not understand, saying,

'How know ye not this parable?' Yet not for this reason only does He speak in parables, but also that He may render His discourse more vivid, and lodge the memory of it more deeply, and bring the things spoken of before their very eyes.

In this way the prophets also do.

What then is the parable? 'Behold,' saith He, 'a sower went forth to sow.'

Whence went He forth, who is present everywhere, who fills all things? Or how went He forth? Not in place, but by a relation and dispensation towards us, becoming nearer to us through His clothing Himself in the flesh.

For since we were not able to enter in, our sins walling off our entrance, He Himself comes forth to us.

And wherefore did He come forth? To destroy the land that was full of thorns? To punish the husbandmen? By no means;

but to till it and to tend it, and to sow the word of godliness.

For by 'seed' He here means the teaching;

and by 'field,' the souls of men;

What then comes of this seed? Three parts perish, and one is saved.

'And as He sowed,' saith He, 'some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up.'

He said not that He cast them away, but that they fell.

'But others upon the rock, where they had not much earth;'

'and forthwith they sprang up, because they had no depth of earth;'

'but when the sun was risen, they were scorched, and because they had no root, they withered away.'

'and the thorns sprang up and choked them.'

'But others upon the good ground;'

'and it yielded fruit, some a hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.'

'He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.'

And not even this in equal measure, but here too there is much difference.

And He said these things, making it plain that He discoursed to all with an ungrudging bounty.

For just as the sower does not distinguish the field that lies before him, but simply and without discrimination casts his seeds;

so too He Himself distinguishes not rich nor poor, not wise nor unwise, not slothful nor diligent, not brave nor cowardly, but discoursed to all, fulfilling His own part, even though He foreknew what should come to pass.

'What was there yet to do for it, that I have not done?' And the prophets indeed discourse concerning the people as of a vine;

for 'My beloved,' saith He, 'had a vineyard;'

and, 'He brought a vine out of Egypt;'

What does He thereby signify? That the obedience will now be swift and easier, and will straightway give its fruit.

And when thou hearest that 'The sower went forth to sow,' do not suppose it to be a mere repetition of words.

For the sower often goes out for some other purpose as well: either to break up the fallow ground, or to cut out the noxious weeds, or to pull up the thorns, or to attend to some other such task;

but he went out to sow.

Whence then, tell me, was the greater part of the seed lost? Not through the sower, but through the ground that received it;

that is, through the soul that did not give heed.

And why does He not say that some of the seed the slothful received,

and some the rich, and they choked it,

and some the frivolous, and they betrayed it? He does not wish to press upon them too severely, lest He cast them into despair, but leaves the reproof to the conscience of His hearers.

And not only the seed suffered this, but the net also;

for that too brought up many things that were useless.

He tells this parable to anoint His disciples for the contest and to instruct them, so that even if those who perish are more than those who receive the word, they should not fall into dejection.

For indeed this very thing came to pass in the case of the Master Himself;

and He who fully foreknew that these things would be so did not on that account desist from sowing.

And what reason could there be, one asks, for sowing upon the thorns, upon the rock, upon the path? In the case of literal seeds and soil there would indeed be no reason;

but in the case of souls and of teachings this deserves much praise.

For the farmer might reasonably be blamed for doing this,

since it is not possible for the rock to become soil, nor for the path to cease being a path, nor for the thorns to cease being thorns;

but with rational beings it is not so.

For it is possible for the rock to be changed and to become rich soil;

and for the path no longer to be trodden down, nor to lie open to all who pass by, but to become fertile land;

and for the thorns to be done away, and the seeds to enjoy great security.

For if it had not been possible, He would not have sown.

But if the change did not take place in all, this was not through the sower, but through those who were unwilling to be changed.

For He on His part has done His own work;

and if they betrayed what came from Him, He who displayed so great a love for mankind is Himself without blame.

But consider for me this: that there is not one road to perdition, but many, and differing from one another.

For those who resemble the path are the coarse, the slothful, and the negligent;

those on the rock are merely the more feeble.

For 'He that was sown upon the stony places,' He says, 'this is he that heareth the word, and straightway with joy receiveth it;

yet hath he no root in himself, but endureth for a season;

and when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, straightway he is offended.'

'When any one,' He says, 'heareth the word of truth and understandeth it not, the Evil One cometh, and snatcheth away that which was sown in his heart.

This is he that was sown by the path.'

But it is not the same thing for the teaching to wither away when no one is troubling or leveraging against it, and when temptations are pressing upon it.

But those who resemble the thorns are far more inexcusable than these.

In order, then, that we may suffer none of these things, let us cover over what is spoken with eagerness and with unceasing remembrance.

For even if the devil snatches it away, yet we are masters over whether it be snatched away or not;

and even if the seeds are dried up, this does not come to pass because of the heat (for He did not say that it was withered because of the heat, but because it had no root);

and even if the words are choked, this is not because of the thorns, but because of those who suffer them to spring up.

For it is possible, if you will, to hinder this evil growth, and to use wealth as is fitting.

For this reason He did not say 'the age,' but 'the care of the age;'

nor 'wealth,' but 'the deceitfulness of wealth.'

Let us not, then, lay the blame upon the things themselves, but upon the corrupted will.

For it is possible both to be rich and not to be deceived;

and to be in this age, and not to be choked by its anxieties.

For indeed wealth has two contrary defects:

the one, that which strains and darkens the mind, namely anxiety;

the other, that which makes men softer, namely luxury.

And well did He say, 'the deceitfulness of wealth.'

For all the things of wealth are deceit;

for they are names only, not resting upon real things.

For indeed pleasure, and glory, and adornment, and all such things are a kind of phantom, not the truth of realities.

Having named, then, the modes of perdition, He afterward sets forth the good ground, not permitting them to despair, but giving hope of repentance, and showing that it is possible from the aforesaid conditions to change over into this.

And yet, if the ground is good, and the sower is one, and the seeds the same, why did one bring forth a hundredfold, another sixty, and another thirty? Here again the difference lies in the nature of the ground;

for even where the ground is good, there is much difference in it as well.

You see that He shows the farmer is not the cause,

nor the seeds, but the ground that receives them;

and this not through its nature, but through its disposition.

And here too there is great love for mankind,

in that He does not require one single measure of virtue, but both accepts the first, and does not cast out the second, and gives place to the third.

These things He says, so that those who follow Him should not suppose that mere hearing suffices for salvation.

And why, one asks, did He not also set down the other kinds of wickedness, such as lust of the body, and vainglory? Having spoken of the care of this age and the deceitfulness of wealth, He has set down all of them.

For indeed vainglory too, and all the rest, belong to this age and to the deceitfulness of wealth;

such as pleasure, and gluttony, and envy, and vainglory, and all such things.

But He added also the path and the rock, showing that it is not enough merely to be rid of riches, but that one must also practice the rest of virtue.

For what profit is it, if you are free from riches, but are unmanly and soft? And again, what if you are not unmanly, but are slothful and negligent about hearing? For no single part suffices for our salvation, but we need first an exact hearing and unceasing remembrance, then courage, then a despising of riches and a release from all worldly things.

For it is on this account that He places the one before the other, since this is what is needed first (for how shall they believe, if they do not hear? just as we too, if we do not attend to what is spoken, shall not even be able to learn what we ought to do);

then courage, and the despising of present things.

Hearing these things, therefore, let us wall ourselves about on every side, attending to what is spoken, and letting our roots go down deep, and purging ourselves of all worldly things.

But if we do some of these things and neglect the others, we shall gain nothing more;

for even if we do not perish in the one way, yet we perish in the other.

For what difference does it make, if we are ruined not through wealth, but through sloth,

or if not through sloth, yet through cowardice? Since the farmer too, whether he lose his seed in this way or in that, mourns just the same.

Let us not, then, because we are not destroyed by every kind of way, take comfort from this; rather let us grieve by whatever manner we may be destroyed.

And let us burn up the thorns; for indeed it chokes the word.

for indeed it chokes the word.

The rich know this—those who are useful not only for these matters, but not even for any others.

For having become slaves and captives of pleasures, they are useless even for civic affairs;

and if for those, how much more for the affairs of the heavens.

For indeed a twofold harm comes hence to their reasonings, both from luxury and from anxiety.

For each of these by itself is enough to sink the vessel;

but when both run together, consider how great the surge that arises.

And do not marvel that He called luxury 'thorns.'

For you indeed are ignorant of it, being drunk with the passion;

but those who are in health know that it pricks more than a thorn, and that luxury wastes the soul more than care, and inflicts more grievous pains on both body and soul.

For one is not so smitten by care as by surfeit.

For when sleeplessness, and throbbing of the temples, and heaviness of the head, and pains of the bowels beset such a man, consider by how much these are worse than thorns.

And just as thorns, wherever they be grasped, make bloody the hands that hold them,

so too luxury injures the feet, and the hands, and the head, and the eyes, and, in a word, all the members;

and it is dry and fruitless, like the thorn, and it grieves far more grievously than that, and in the vital parts.

For it brings on untimely old age, and blunts the senses, and darkens the reasoning, and blinds the mind that once saw keenly, and makes the body flabby, rendering the storehouse more abundant in filth, gathering together a great heap of evils, and making the burden heavier and the cargo overweighted;

whence come also many and continual falls, and frequent shipwrecks.

For why, tell me, do you fatten the body? Are we to sacrifice you? Are we to set you upon a table? You fatten fowls well;

or rather, not even those do you fatten well.

So great an evil is luxury, that it displays its ruin even among the irrational animals.

For those birds too, when made luxurious, we render useless both to themselves and to us.

For their excrement becomes undigested, and a more watery putrefaction arises from that fat.

But those not so fed, but, as one might say, passing their life in fasting and in a moderate diet, laboring and toiling—these are most useful both to themselves and to others, both for food and for all other purposes.

At any rate, those who feed on such creatures are the healthier;

but those who feed on these come to resemble them, becoming sluggish and sickly, and forging for themselves a more grievous bondage.

For nothing is so hostile and harmful to the body as luxury;

nothing so bursts it, and buries it, and destroys it, as debauchery.

Wherefore one might especially be amazed at their folly on this account also, that they are not willing to show toward themselves even as much thrift as others show in the case of wine-skins.

For those who sell wines do not permit the skins to take in more than is needful, lest they burst;

but these men do not deem their wretched belly worthy even of this forethought;

but when they have filled and burst it, up to the ears, up to the nostrils, up to the very throat, they cram everything full, contriving thereby a twofold straitness for the breath and for the power that regulates the living creature.

For was your throat made for this—that up to the very mouth it should be crammed with rotting wine and with the rest of the corruption that fills it? Not for this, O man, but that first and foremost you might sing to God, and send up holy prayers, and read the divine laws, and counsel your neighbors as to what is profitable.

But you, as though you had received it for this very purpose, do not allow it even a little time to be free for that ministry, but subject it your whole life long to this wicked servitude.

And it is just as if a man, having taken a lyre with golden strings and well tuned, instead of striking out on it the all-harmonious melody, should bury it under much dung and mire;

and by 'dung' I called not the food, but the luxury, and that great licentiousness.

For what is beyond the needful is not food, but only mischief.

For the belly alone was made for the reception of food;

but the mouth, and the throat, and the tongue were made for other purposes far more necessary than these;

or rather, not even the belly was made for the reception of food simply, but for the reception of food in due measure.

And this it makes plain, crying out against us times without number, whenever we outrage it through this greed;

and it not only cries out, but, avenging the wrong, it exacts from us the uttermost penalty.

And first it punishes the feet, which bear and carry us off to those wicked banquets; then it binds together the hands that ministered to it, in return for which they brought forward so many and such viands;

and many it has even distorted the mouth itself, and the eyes, and the head.

And just as a household servant, when he is enjoined something beyond his power, being driven to desperation often insults the one who gave the command;

so this too, together with these members, being often forced, destroys and corrupts the very brain itself.

And this God ordered well, that from immoderation there should come so great a harm, so that when you do not willingly practice self-restraint, at least unwillingly, through fear of so great a corruption, you might learn moderation.

Knowing these things, then, let us flee luxury, and take care for moderation, that we may both enjoy the health of the body, and, freeing the soul from every sickness, may attain the good things to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion unto the ages of ages.