約翰福音註釋 第 1 章 第 85/94 段

how then is the Son a creature, according to certain impious men? For if one says 'Son,' he has instilled in his hearers the knowledge concerning the Father;

but naming Him 'a creature' refers the thought back to the one who made it.

He is in truth the Offspring;

therefore the Son both is understood as, and is, a son, and not a creature according to those men;

for which reason the one who makes is a maker, and no longer a father.

But it will in no way harm the force of the argument that the term of begetting, or of sonship, happens to be applied to us also.

For the things that properly and peculiarly belong and pertain to the Son by nature—these too have been brought down to us as well, since Holy Scripture sometimes makes free use even of them, at times investing the sons by adoption with the properties of the Son by nature.

And it is no wonder if we too have obtained the appellation of 'offspring,' since God out of His love for mankind willed to honor us thus—seeing that He even named 'gods' those who are confessedly of the earth.

'When Jesus had spoken these things, He went out with His disciples across the winter-torrent of the Cedars, where there was a garden, into which He and His disciples entered;'

'And Judas also, who betrayed Him, knew the place, because Jesus had often gathered there with His disciples.'

Having thoroughly illumined the disciples, and having, by fitting words, shaped them to precision in each of the things that pertain to virtue, and having enjoined upon them to choose a most refined and God-loving manner of life, and moreover having Himself promised to fill them full of spiritual gifts and having said that the blessings from above and from the Father would be sent down upon them, He now goes forth eagerly, not shaking off the season of His Passion, nor dreading the death that was for the sake of all.

For how would it be fitting that He, whose lot it was to suffer, so that by His own suffering He might purchase for all men freedom from suffering, and who had come for this reason and this alone—that by His own blood He might win the whole earth for God and the Father—how would it have been likely for Him to do this? Indeed, though many a time the Jews chose to abuse Him drunkenly, and out of madness attempted to make Him a target of stoning, He escaped in a manner befitting God, making Himself unseen, and slipping away very easily from the hand of those who sought Him;

for He did not yet will to suffer, since the fitting season did not yet call Him to this.

But when it was now at hand, leaving the hearth where He had initiated His own disciples into the mysteries, He comes to a place in which it was His custom often to spend His time—both Christ Himself, the Savior of all, and the holy disciples.

And this too He did, making the discovery untroublesome for the betrayer.

And the place was a garden, fulfilling the figure of the ancient paradise;

for there came about, as it were, a recapitulation of the places and of all things—a returning, so to speak, to the ancient state.

For in a paradise the beginning of our sorrows came about, and in a garden also the Passion of Christ receives its beginning, bringing to us the restoration of all the things that had befallen us of old.

'Judas therefore, having received the band and officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, comes there with lanterns and torches and weapons.'

Most necessarily, again, the inspired Evangelist says that Jesus was in the garden—not amid a multitude of other men, nor with a crowd rushing together, that is, with any who had determined to defend Him, but being alone with His own disciples alone—so that he might make manifest, for our understanding, the rottenness of the betrayer's heart.

For terrible indeed in each person is the conscience, both to breed tumults and to stir up bitter cowardice, whenever we sometimes attempt some unholy deed.

Having suffered, I think, some such thing, the betrayer brings along the very band, fitted out with weapons of war, and the officers of the Jews, as though he were about to take under his hand some notorious criminal.

For he knew, as was fitting, that he could never have seized Him unless He had chosen to suffer, coming to this by His own willing inclination;

but with his mind corrupted by the unholiness of his deeds, and drunk, as it were, with deeds of daring beyond reason, he neither sees where he is being carried, nor perceives that he is attempting things impossible to accomplish.

For he supposed that by the multitude of his followers and by human hand he would one day prevail over His divine power.

And do not marvel if the wretched man is sick with some such folly, and is found to have devised things worthy of laughter.

Once the devil had gained authority, he was wholly given over to that madness, since a certain bitter serpent, once for all, had leapt in and lay lurking within him.

And one might well marvel, and very reasonably, and will call the betrayer's downfall worthy of unceasing tears.

For he who but now was feasting with Christ and was His table-companion, a partaker of the holy table, and who had enjoyed together with the others the words that lead to godliness, and had plainly heard Him saying, 'One of you will betray Me'—from those very banqueting couches, so to speak, he leaps up, and, scarcely having just risen from the reclining, runs off to hire himself out to the Jews; unwilling to keep in mind the words that lead to godliness, not coming to desire the hope of the age to come, but reckoning as of little worth even the dignity given him, and, to say all in a word, setting up in exchange, before all the eternal good things together, that so paltry and worthless silver, and is found to be a snare and a devilish net for Christ, both ringleader and fellow-worker of the godlessness of the Jews.

And this too, besides these things, comes to my mind as no little matter for laughter.

For the crowds who rushed together with the betrayer plot their onslaught against Christ, having kindled lanterns and torches;

for they were trying, as was likely, to avoid the missteps that come as in darkness, and the involuntary tumbling into pits;

for such things are wont, somehow, to happen in darkness.

The wretches do not see that, out of great ignorance, they are stumbling against the stone concerning which God and the Father says: 'Behold, I lay in Zion a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense.' And those who sometimes shudder at a little pit do not perceive that they are leaping down into the springs of the abyss and into the lowest parts of the earth; and those who avoid the gloom of evening take no account whatever of the continuous and unceasing night.

For having impiously plotted against the divine light—that is, against Christ—they were destined to walk in darkness and in gloom, according to the utterance of the prophet;

and not only this, but they were also to depart into that very outer darkness, there to pay the penalty for their impiety against Christ, and to be delivered over to bitter and endless judgment.

'Jesus therefore, knowing all the things that were coming upon Him, went forth and says to them, "Whom do you seek?" They answered Him, "Jesus the Nazarene."'

Jesus says to them, 'I am he.'

And Judas also, who was betraying him, was standing there with them.

When therefore he said to them, 'I am he,' they drew back and fell to the ground.

For indeed, just as we said a moment ago, Judas supposed that he would seize him even against his will, taking courage from the multitude of hands that followed him;

and yet he would find him still lingering in his accustomed places, since the day had not yet given him occasion to depart elsewhere, but the Lord was still, as it were, tarrying in the lodgings of the night.

Now, in order that Christ might convict him — who in both respects was reasoning in a merely human way, and in this too was thinking stale, worn-out thoughts — Christ himself forestalls the very beginning of their assault, and goes out most eagerly to meet them; showing thereby both that he was not ignorant of what was being dared, and that for one who has foreknowledge it is easy at once to hide and to escape. Thus he goes uncalled by any but himself to his Passion, not falling into an unwilling danger through the aggression of others, so that neither might the wise among the Greeks laugh, making the cross an offence and a charge against their own frivolity, nor might the Lord-slaying Jew raise a haughty brow against Christ, imagining that he had prevailed even against his will.

And he inquires of those who had come to arrest him whom they were there searching out — not because he was ignorant.

How could that be? Rather, so that, having convicted those who were present for this very purpose and were beholding him — and by this again shown to be unable even to recognize the one they sought — he might confirm us in right thinking, that he would never have been taken had he not gone willingly to those who were seeking him.

For observe how, when he plainly said, 'Whom do you seek?', they did not at once reply, 'We are here to arrest you, the one who is speaking,' but as though speaking of someone not yet present nor even seen, they say, 'Jesus of Nazareth.'

To this it might reasonably be said: 'Perhaps the soldier was ignorant, but the officers of the Jews too failed to recognize Jesus.'

To this we reply that, above all, no one would say such a thing to us with good reason.

For how could those who were continually under the hand of the appointed priesthood have failed to recognize the one who taught daily in the temple, according to the Saviour's own word? Yet, lest any, taking courage from such arguments, should go beyond the bounds of fitting reasoning, the divinely-inspired Evangelist, looking ahead, has of necessity added that Judas, who was betraying him, was standing there together with the soldiers and the officers.

Then how could the traitor have failed to recognize the Lord? But again you will say that it was night and darkness, and it was not easy to see the one sought.

Then how is not the writer of the book worthy of admiration, who left nothing unprovided for, not even so small a matter? For he has said that they came upon the garden having kindled lanterns and torches.

Since, then, even the sophistry brought against these things has been dissolved, the God-befitting dignity of Christ shines forth, as he presents himself to those who seek him, yet is not even so recognized.

For in order to convict them of having suffered this — I mean their being unable to distinguish him — he plainly says, 'I am he.'

But that in addition he might expose the futility of their great numbers, and show the power of every human being to be utterly nothing as against the ineffable and divine strength, with a gentle and mild word he addressed them and laid the crowd of those seeking him flat upon the ground; that we might learn this: that the nature of created things, being unable to endure even a single word of God — and that a word of loving-kindness — how could it withstand his threat, according to what is said in the Psalms: 'You are terrible, and who shall stand against you from your wrath?' And as a sign, as it were, of the total downfall conceived for the nation, there is dispensed this particular event, namely what befell those who came to the arrest.

And indeed the prophet Jeremiah laments over the Jews, saying: 'The house of Israel has fallen, there is none to raise it up.' And what befell them may also be an image of a necessary truth.

For it teaches that for everyone who has set himself to work wickedness against Christ, falling is in every way and altogether laid up in store.

Again therefore he asked them, 'Whom do you seek?' And they said, 'Jesus of Nazareth.'

Jesus answered, 'I told you that I am he.'

'If therefore you seek me, let these go their way.'

That the word might be fulfilled which he had spoken, 'Of those whom you have given me, I have lost none.'

He asks a second time by way of a dispensation, that he might make plain the greatness of the hardening implanted in their minds.

For being, as it were, deprived of the accuracy of their understanding, and having their wits deranged through their impiety, though speaking to him they were ignorant of the very one whom they were seeking.

Moreover, what Christ said, being true, he demonstrates to us also by the very facts;

for 'I am,' he says, 'the good shepherd;'

'the good shepherd lays down his own life for the sheep.' Therefore the Lord shields the salvation of the apostles, and, taking the danger upon himself, comes forward of his own accord unto those very men who had come to lead him away to the Passion — men sent, that is, by the chief priests and the Pharisees.

So when, to him who asked whom they were there to seize and to bind with the snares of death, they said, 'Jesus of Nazareth,' he showed himself, and all but blaming their sluggishness, he bade them let the others go and lead him away.

For it behoved that one should die for all — the one worth as much as the life of all — that he might be Lord of both dead and living. For it would otherwise have been utterly implausible that the death even of one of the holy apostles should be supposed by some to have been undergone for the abolition of death and corruption, seeing that they too would very fittingly be numbered among those set free from death and corruption, having, as regards us, obtained one and the same nature, over which the might of death has also tyrannized.

It remained for him also to exult over the snares of death.

For the Lord is the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep, and the firstborn from the dead, making, as it were, most smooth for those who come after him, through his own resurrection, the ascent to incorruption.

Therefore he withdraws his disciples from the immediate danger, knowing that then above all the contest befitted himself, and declaring the setting right of our affairs to be the work of no other, but of the very and sole essence that reigns over all things.

The wise Evangelist turns what then happened particularly and specifically toward those who were with him into a clear demonstration of the, as it were, universal and most general sparing that would be shown toward those who come to him through faith.

For he charged them, he says, to let the disciples go, that the word might be fulfilled which he had spoken, that 'Of those whom you have given me, I have lost none of them.'

For that he will spare also those who come after these, how can it be doubtful? For that which was not neglected in a few, how could it be despised, perhaps, in a greater number? And he who showed such sparing toward a very small number, how could he disregard those beyond number too? For very many indeed are those who have believed.

Take therefore the particular as an image of the most general, and by the fact that he does not wish his own acquaintances to be endangered at all, it is easy to survey what and how great will be the wrath against those who put him to death.

For that which he holds unwilled, how does he not utterly hate? And that a bitter and unending judgment awaits the workers of the things hated by him, how then could this any longer be, or from what quarter, doubtful? — Simon Peter therefore, having a sword, drew it and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear.

And the servant's name was Malchus.

Then what was it, someone might perhaps ask, that compelled the divinely-inspired Evangelist to mention these things too — that he showed the disciple using a sword, contrary to his custom, against those who came to arrest Christ, moved more hotly and more harshly than he ought, and that upon this Christ even rebuked him?

And to some the explanation of these things will perhaps seem superfluous; but it is not so.

For it has brought in for us a pattern of no ordinary benefit.

For we shall learn, through what has happened, up to what point zeal for piety toward Christ proceeds without blame, and what, wishing to do in such struggles, we should not stumble into any of the things by which God is grieved.

For the type of this deed does not permit us to contend for piety toward Christ by brandishing iron, or lifting up stones against certain people, or striking our adversaries with wood;

for our weapons are not fleshly, according to the word of Paul;

but rather we should conduct ourselves with gentleness even toward those thirsting for our blood, when the times shut off from us the escaping of them.

For it is by far the better thing that others be called to account by him who judges what is just, for the wrongs done to us, than that we ourselves should have to answer for bloodshed, making piety a pretext.

And one might also say, from another angle, that it is among the most absurd of things to honour with the death of the persecutors the very one who gladly suffered death for the abolition of death.

And in this respect too it was somehow necessary for him to follow Christ.

For if he were being called to death as by necessity and force, as one unable of his own strength to overturn an assault that could not be outdone by reason of the multitude of the officers, it would perhaps have been in no way unfitting for those who had chosen to love him thenceforth to defend him with all their might and to venture upon every daring deed, that they might rescue the one who, through the impiety of certain men, was against his will in danger.

But since, being true God and able utterly to destroy the assailants — even at the very first-fruits, so to speak, of the contest — he gave them such a taste of his strength as to lay them low with a single, gentle word;

for they all fell backward;

how could it have been fitting for us, with unbridled and unrestrained wrath, to wish to rush more rashly upon those very things which he himself did not do, though he could very easily have done them? And we have something of this kind written elsewhere also among the holy Evangelists.

For the Lord once came to lodge in one of the villages bordering on Judaea;

but they harshly turned him away as he approached.

And indeed, stung by this, the disciples came forward and said, 'Lord, do you wish that we bid fire to come down from heaven and consume them?' But the Saviour again said to them, 'Let them be;'

'Or do you not know that I am able to call upon my Father, and he will at once furnish me twelve legions of angels?' For he came not as God to use his own and innate power against those who behaved insolently toward him, but rather to become a teacher of long-suffering carried to the utmost, and to be set forth as a type of the very highest of all forbearance.

Wherefore he also said, 'Learn from me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.' Now the aim of Peter, in brandishing the sword against the adversaries, does not fall outside the commandment of the Law.

For it commanded blamelessly to render foot for foot and hand for hand and wound for wound and stripe for stripes against those who wrong us.

And what else had they come to do, those who came armed with swords and clubs, fitted out with weapons and gathered in a crowd, than assuredly those very things by which the disciples were likely to be brought into the utmost peril? For that they were bringing clubs and swords the Saviour has made plain to us, having said to them elsewhere: 'Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to arrest me? Daily I sat teaching in the temple, and you did not seize me.' Peter's action, then, was according to the Law and not out of tune with the ancient ordinances;

but our Lord Jesus Christ, inasmuch as he had come to introduce things above the Law and to transform us into the gentleness that is according to himself, rebukes actions done according to the Law, as not possessing the perfect achievement of the good that is according to truth.

For the perfectly good does not lie in requiting like for like, but rather shines forth in the highest forms of forbearance.

But someone might even after this be in doubt, and say to himself: 'Then whence did Peter have a sword?' We shall reply again that, above all, the fact that one must according to the Law defend oneself against those who choose to do wrong has somehow brought in also the use of iron.

For what if someone wished to strike with iron those who had done no wrong — how would he come to the experience of like for like? Yet it is likely that, seeing they were the holy apostles hurrying out of their lodgings through the middle of the night, expecting to enter woods and gardens, they had also to be on guard against the onset of wild beasts;

and the land of the Jews was indeed above all a nurse of wild beasts.

But whenever you also say to this: 'Then what need had the disciples of swords? For would not Christ have sufficed them in danger, so as evidently both to drive off the beasts and to banish thence their fear?' — Yes indeed, we say, and one would say this most excellently, for Christ is able for all things;

yet we shall find that, though Christ was able to accomplish other things as well, the disciples lived according to our common customs.

For shall we not grant that Christ was able to make loaves out of stones, and to produce silver out of nothing, sufficient to meet their expense? Yet they carried loaves with them, and bore a money-box, collecting what was given by those who offered.

And when Christ once wished to sail across with them, they went aboard a boat together, although it was possible to walk over the very waters, if Christ had willed this too.

It is therefore idle to find fault with human procedures, if anywhere one should see the disciples making use of them.

And Peter cuts off the right ear of the servant, showing as in an enacted figure that the peoples of the Jews were, as it were, bereft of the right faculty of hearing; the very deed set forth the matter in type.

For they were unwilling to understand the things wrought through Christ.

But they honoured obedience on the left hand, persuaded only by their own madness, deceiving and being deceived, according to what is written; since indeed, trampling upon the law formerly laid down, they turned aside to the commandments of the teachings of men. Jesus therefore said to Peter, 「Put up thy sword into its sheath;」

not the law spoken through Moses to those of old, but that which was laid down through Christ, which so far forbids the use of swords, or rather even the necessity of retaliation, that if any one should wish to strike us on one cheek, and even to demand a second if it so happen, we are to turn also the other, cutting out human faintheartedness from our very soul by the roots.

Yet even though no law has as yet been laid down by me concerning the need to bear evil patiently, thy mind, O Peter, has erred from fitting reasoning, and thou hast made thine attempt exceedingly out of tune with the very nature of things.

For seeing that it is decreed and well-pleasing to God the Father that I should drink this cup, that is, that I should of my own will endure the death which stupefies as into a sleep, for the abolishing of death and corruption, how is it fitting to shrink away, when so great a form of good things is believed to spring up for the race of men through my drinking it? Thus, then, is the sense of what lies before us in these words very well defined.

And equal to this again is that other saying;

for our Lord Jesus Christ, wishing to make his own disciples more firm in faith, and forestalling the stumbling-block that would arise at the precious cross, once said to them, discoursing with them privately: 「Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and the Son of man is delivered into the hands of sinners, and they shall crucify him, and shall kill him, and on the third day he shall rise again.」 But the wondrous Peter, not considering the good that comes of the passion, but looking only to the disgrace that comes of suffering, says, 「Be it far from thee, Lord; this shall never be unto thee.」 And what says Christ to this? 「Get thee behind me, Satan; thou art a stumbling-block to me;」

for thou savourest not the things of God, but the things of men. For it would be the work and aim of one who wishes to savour the things that seem good to God, to make nothing of the honours in the world, and to count the loss of glory among men as worthy of no account, so long as by suffering this very thing something profitable to others may be accomplished;

for love, he says, seeketh not her own. But it belongs to one turned toward and looking only upon human things, to reckon the loss of the little glories upon earth as intolerable, and to look only to his own good, and not to grieve over the ills of his neighbour.

As therefore in those instances Peter was called a stumbling-block to Christ, although Christ knew not how to be made to stumble—for Peter had spoken out of a love not strong enough to be free from blame, because he looked only to the suffering from the cross, and not to the good things arising from the passion;

for he was trying, so far as in him lay, to overturn that which had been decreed and appointed for the life of all;

so here too he is seen doing this very thing, through zeal and a sword and an exceedingly hot-headed attempt;

yet he is rebuked again, not only hearing 「Put up thy sword into its sheath,」 but, as another of the evangelists relates that Christ added, 「For all they that take the sword shall perish by the sword.」 And what we said before, taking it up again we shall repeat: since the passion came upon him not unwillingly, nor was it brought about by Jewish covetousness, in what manner ought one to ward off and altogether repel even with a sword this insolence of the assailants permitted by his consent, and the unholy plots of the Jews? And he says that the Father and God gave him the cup, that is, the death, although it was prepared through the impiety of the Jews toward God, since it would not have come about at all had he not permitted it to come about for our sake.

Therefore Christ also said to Pilate himself, when he was speaking boastfully, 「Thou couldest have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above.」 For under the name of authority he says that there came to Pilate the willing impulse of the Son to suffer as was needful, and the consent thereto from above and from the Father.

The band therefore, and the captain, and the officers of the Jews took Jesus and bound him, and led him away to Annas first;

for he was father-in-law to Caiaphas, who was high priest that same year.

that one man should die for the people.

The impediments being now removed, and Peter having shaken the sword from his hand, and Christ having, as it were, delivered himself into the hands of the Jews—though it was possible for him not to suffer and easy to escape—they now rush savagely with their rage, and are kindled as it were into unassailable insolence, both the soldiers together with him to whom the leading was allotted, and the officers with them.

And when the Lord had now yielded to their doing whatsoever they would, they seized and stretched him out in bonds, though he had come to us for this very purpose, that he might deliver us from the bonds of the devil, and loose us from the snares of sin.

And they carry him off to Annas, who was father-in-law to Caiaphas; whence it comes to us now to understand that this man was indeed the contriver and organiser of the unholy deed against Christ, and that it was from him, in all likelihood, that the traitor, hired for pay, requested the multitude that was to seize Christ.

To him therefore he is carried off first.

As therefore to those whose sight is impaired the light of the sun is somehow useless, affording them no benefit, since the disease hinders this; and to those whose bodily condition is corrupted the wholesome foods seem somehow more useless than others, although known to procure the thrice-longed-for health;

so also to the Jews the Lord seemed somehow useless, although he was the president and giver of salvation.

For to be saved was not dear to them.

And they sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.

Now Caiaphas was he who counselled the Jews that it was expedient that one man should die for the people.

The holy and sacred victim, that is, Christ, was hunted down through the evil craft of Annas and the service of those hired for this purpose; and being caught within the nets, he is led to the procurer, or rather the instigator, of the unjust slaughter;

and this Caiaphas was he, although he was crowned with the grace of the priesthood.

And in word he appears to have himself begun the murderous deed, but he too in the end is caught as being a firstfruits of the daring outrage.

For he receives Jesus bound, and the wretched man made, as it were, a certain fruit of his own counsel and of his unholy schemes the deed that is of all evils most unholy.

For what could be more grievous than the impiety against Christ? And Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did the other disciple.