Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 4.2–4.8

For it is God's custom to do such things: when evils increase, and he sees his own people afflicted and their opponents greatly drunk with their tyranny over them, then he displays his own power; as he did also in Persia in the case of the Jews.

That he did not divide Christ's ancestors into three portions idly or at random is clear from what has been said. And consider also where he begins and where he ends: from Abraham to David; from David to the deportation to Babylon; from this to Christ himself. For both at the beginning he set the two together, David and Abraham, and in summing up he likewise mentioned both. For, as I said before, it was to them that the promises had been made. But why, as he mentioned the deportation to Babylon, did he not mention also the going down into Egypt? Because they no longer feared the Egyptians, but still trembled at the Babylonians; and the one was ancient, the other recent and lately happened; and they had gone down there not for their sins, but here they were carried away for their transgressions. And if anyone were to undertake to translate the meanings of their names too, he would find much contemplation here as well, contributing greatly to the New Testament; as from Abraham, from Jacob, from Solomon, from Zerubbabel; for these names were not given to them idly. But so as not to seem to trouble you by great length, let us pass these by and go to the pressing points.

Having named all the ancestors, then, and ended with Joseph, he did not stop there, but added, “Joseph the husband of Mary,” showing that it was because of her that he gave his genealogy too. Then, lest on hearing “husband of Mary” you think he was born by the common law of nature, see how he corrects this by what follows. You have heard, he says, of a husband, you have heard of a mother, you have heard the name given to the child; hear then also the manner of the birth: “Now the birth of Jesus Christ was thus.” What birth are you telling me of, tell me? You have already named the ancestors. “But I wish to tell also the manner of the birth.” Do you see how he roused the hearer? For as one about to say something quite new, he promises to tell the manner. And consider the excellent order of what is said. For he did not come at once to the birth, but first reminds us how many generations he was from Abraham, how many from David, from the deportation to Babylon; and by these he sets the careful hearer to examine the times, showing that this is the Christ proclaimed by the prophets. For when you count the generations and learn from the time that this is he, you will readily accept also the miracle that happened at the birth. For since he was about to say something great, that he was born of a virgin, before counting the time he veils what is said, saying “husband of Mary,” or rather he cuts short the account of the birth itself; and he counts the years, reminding the hearer that this is the one whom the patriarch Jacob said would come when the Jewish rulers had at last failed, the one whom the prophet Daniel foretold would come after those many weeks. And if anyone wishes to count down the years told by the angel to Daniel in a number of weeks from the building of the city to his birth, he will see that they agree.

How then was he born? Tell me. “When his mother Mary had been betrothed.” He did not say “virgin,” but simply “mother,” so that the account might be easily received. So, having first prepared the hearer to expect to hear something ordinary, and having held him with this, then he astonishes him by bringing in the marvelous fact, saying that “before they came together she was found with child of the Holy Spirit.” He did not say, “before she was brought into the bridegroom's house”; for she was already within. For it was the custom of the ancients to have the betrothed women in the house for the most part, as one can see happening even now; and Lot's sons-in-law also were inside with him. So she too was inside with Joseph. And why did she not conceive before the betrothal? So that, as I said at the beginning, what happened might be veiled for a time, and the virgin might escape all evil suspicion. For when the one who above all ought to be jealous is seen not only not exposing her or dishonoring her, but even receiving and caring for her after the conception, it is quite clear that, had he not been plainly persuaded that what had happened was from the working of the Spirit, he would not have kept her and rendered all the other services. And quite properly he put “she was found with child,” which is the usual expression for things that turn out marvelously, beyond all hope and unexpected.

Do not, then, go further, nor seek more than what has been said, nor say, “And how did the Spirit work this from a virgin?” For if, when nature works, it is impossible to explain the manner of the formation, how shall we be able to tell these things when the Spirit works the miracle? For lest you weary the evangelist and trouble him by continually asking these things, having named the one who worked the miracle, he released himself. “For I know nothing more,” he says, “except that what happened came from the Holy Spirit.” Let those be ashamed who busy themselves about the birth above. For if no one can explain this birth, which has countless witnesses, was proclaimed so long before, and was seen and touched, what excess of madness do they leave untried who busy themselves and pry into that unspeakable one? For neither Gabriel nor Matthew was able to say more than that it was from the Spirit; but how from the Spirit, and in what manner, none of them explained; for it was not possible. And do not think you have learned everything when you hear “from the Spirit”; for even learning this we are still ignorant of many things: as, how the infinite is in a womb; how he who holds all things together is carried in the womb by a woman; how the virgin gives birth and remains a virgin; how, tell me, the Spirit fashioned that temple; how he did not take all the flesh from the womb, but a part of it, and increased it and shaped it. For that he came forth from the flesh of the virgin he made plain by saying, “For that which is conceived in her”; and Paul, “born of a woman,” stopping the mouths of those who say that Christ passed through as through a pipe. For if that were so, what need of the womb? If that were so, he has nothing in common with us, but that flesh is something else, not of our lump. How then is he of the root of Jesse? How a rod? How Son of Man? How was Mary his mother? How of the seed of David? How did he take the form of a slave? How did the Word become flesh? How does Paul say to the Romans, “from whom is the Christ according to the flesh, who is God over all”? That he is from us and from our lump and from the virgin's womb is clear from these and many other texts; but how, is no longer clear. So do not you seek either, but accept what has been revealed and do not pry into what has been kept silent.

“And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man,” he says, “and not wishing to make her a public example, resolved to send her away secretly.” Having said that it was from the Holy Spirit and without intercourse, he establishes the account from another side too. For lest anyone say, “How is this clear? Who has seen, who has ever heard of such a thing happening?”, and lest you suspect the disciple of inventing these things to please his teacher, he brings in Joseph, contributing through what he suffered to the credibility of what is said, all but saying through what he reports: “If you disbelieve me and suspect my testimony, believe the husband.” “For Joseph,” he says, “her husband, being a righteous man.” Here he calls righteous the man virtuous in everything. For righteousness is also not grasping; but it is also virtue in general; and Scripture uses the name of righteousness above all in this sense, as when it says, “a man righteous, true,” and again, “they were both righteous.” Being righteous, then, that is, kind and gentle, “he resolved to send her away secretly.” That is why he tells what happened before he learned the truth, so that you may not disbelieve what happened after he learned it. And yet such a woman was liable not only to public exposure; the law even ordered her to be punished. But Joseph remitted not only that greater thing but also the lesser, the shame. For he wished not only not to punish her but not even to expose her. Do you see a man of philosophy, freed from the most tyrannical passion? For you know how great a thing jealousy is. That is why the one who knew these things clearly said, “For the wrath of a husband is full of jealousy; he will not spare in the day of judgment,” and, “Jealousy is cruel as Hades.” And we know many who would rather give up their life than fall into a suspicion that rouses jealousy. But here it was not even suspicion, since the swelling of the womb was convicting her. Yet he was so pure of passion that he did not wish to grieve the virgin even in the smallest things. For since keeping her at home seemed to be against the law, while exposing her and bringing her to court would compel him to hand her over to death, he does neither, but already lives above the law. For when grace was coming, there had to be many signs of the lofty way of life. For as the sun, even before showing its rays, lights up most of the world from afar with its light, so Christ too, about to rise from that womb, lit up the whole world even before he came forth. That is why, even before the birth pangs, prophets leapt, women foretold what was to come, and John, not yet come out of the womb, leapt in his mother's womb. Hence this man too showed great philosophy; for he neither accused nor reproached, but only undertook to send her away.

When things stood so, and all were at a loss, the angel comes, resolving all the difficulties. But it is worth asking why the angel did not speak before this, before the husband had this thought, but came when he had considered it: “For when he had considered these things,” it says, the angel comes; although he brings her the good news even before she conceived; and this itself again raises another difficulty. For even if the angel did not speak, why was the virgin silent, having heard from the angel, and when she saw her betrothed troubled, did not resolve his difficulty? Why then did the angel not speak before he was troubled? For we must first solve the first question. Why then did he not speak? Lest he disbelieve and suffer the same as Zechariah. For when the thing is seen, faith is easy thereafter; but when it has not yet begun, what is said is not so readily accepted. That is why the angel did not speak at the beginning; and the virgin kept silent for the same reason. For she did not think she would be believed by her betrothed if she reported a strange thing, but rather that she would provoke him, as if covering up a sin that had been committed. For if she herself, who was to receive so great a grace, feels something human and says, “How shall this be, since I do not know a man?”, much more would he have doubted, especially hearing it from a woman under suspicion.

For these reasons the virgin says nothing to him, and the angel comes when the time calls for it. “Why then,” someone says, “did he not do this with the virgin too, and bring her the good news after the conception?” So that she might not be in confusion and great distress. For it was likely that, not knowing the truth, she would resolve on something desperate about herself, and go to the noose or the sword, unable to bear the shame. For the virgin was wonderful, and Luke shows her virtue, saying that when she heard the greeting she did not at once pour herself out or accept what was said, but “was troubled, wondering what kind of greeting this might be.” And one so exact as she would have been beside herself with despondency, reckoning the shame and not expecting that, whatever she said, she would persuade any of those who heard that what had happened was not adultery. So, that these things might not happen, the angel came before the conception. For that womb into which the Maker of all entered had to be free from confusion, and the soul that was counted worthy to become the minister of such mysteries had to be rid of all distress. For these reasons he speaks to the virgin before the conception, and to Joseph at the time of the birth pangs. Many of the simpler sort, not perceiving this, have said there is a disagreement, because Luke says that the good news was brought to Mary, and Matthew that it was brought to Joseph, not knowing that both happened. This must be observed through the whole narrative; for in this way we shall resolve many apparent disagreements.

The angel comes, then, while Joseph is troubled. For both for the reasons given, and so that his philosophy might appear, he delays his coming. But when the event was about to take place, he comes at last. “But when he had considered these things, an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream.” Do you see the man's gentleness? Not only that he did not punish her, but that he did not even tell anyone, not even the woman under suspicion, but reasoned it out by himself, eager to hide the cause even from the virgin herself. For it does not say he wished to cast her out, but to send her away; so mild and gentle was the man. “But when he had considered these things,” the angel appears in a dream. And why not openly, as to the shepherds, to Zechariah, and to the virgin? The man was very faithful and did not need this vision. For the virgin, since she was receiving very great good news, greater than Zechariah's, and before the event, needed a marvelous vision too; and the shepherds, since they were of a rather rustic disposition. But this man, after the conception, when his soul had been seized by the evil suspicion and was ready to change to good hopes if anyone appeared to lead him to them, readily accepts the revelation. That is why he receives the good news after the suspicion, so that this very thing might become the proof of what was said. For having told no one, and yet hearing the angel speak what he had pondered in his mind, gave him an indisputable sign that the speaker had come from God; for it belongs to him alone to know the secrets of the heart. See, then, how many things result: the man's philosophy is displayed, what is said at the right moment contributes to his faith, and the account becomes free of suspicion, showing that he felt what a man

was likely to feel. How then does the angel assure him? Hear, and marvel at the wisdom of what is said. For coming, he says: “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife.” At once he reminds him of David, from whom Christ was to come, and does not let him be thrown into confusion, by the name of his ancestors reminding him of the promise made to the whole race. Otherwise why did he call him son of David? “Do not fear.” And yet elsewhere God does not act so, but when someone was planning what he ought not about a woman, he uses rebuking and threatening language, although there too the act was one of ignorance; for that man did not take Sarah knowingly; yet he rebuked him; but here he speaks more gently. For the greatness of what was being arranged was great, and great the difference between the two men; that is why there was no need of rebuke. By saying, “Do not fear,” he shows that he was afraid lest he offend God by keeping her as an adulteress; for if this were not so, he would not even have thought of casting her out. Through all this, then, he shows that the angel has come from God, bringing out and setting forth everything he had thought and felt in his mind. And having said her name, he did not stop there, but added, “your wife,” which he would not have called her if she had been corrupted. Here he calls the betrothed a wife, just as Scripture is accustomed to call the betrothed sons-in-law even before the marriage. And what is “to take”? To keep her at home; for in his mind he had already sent her away. This one who has been sent away, he says, keep; it is God who hands her over to you, not her parents; and he hands her over not for marriage, but to live with you, and he hands her over through my voice. As Christ later handed her over to the disciple, so now he hands her to Joseph.

Then, hinting at the matter, he did not speak of the evil suspicion, but removed it in a more dignified and fitting way by giving the cause of the pregnancy, showing that the very thing for which he had been afraid and wished to cast her out was the reason why he would rightly take her and keep her at home, more than resolving his anxiety. For she is not only free from an unlawful union, he says, but has conceived beyond nature. So do not merely put away your fear, but rejoice the more: “for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.” What is said is marvelous, surpassing human reason and higher than the laws of nature. How then will a man unacquainted with such accounts believe? From what is past, he says, from the revelations. For that is why he revealed everything in his mind, what he felt, what he feared, what he resolved to do, so that from these he might be assured of this too. Or rather, he leads him on not only from what is past but also from what is to come. “And she will bear a son,” he says, “and you shall call his name Jesus.” For lest, because he is of the Holy Spirit, you think yourself a stranger to the service of the dispensation: for even though you contribute nothing to the birth, but the virgin remained untouched, yet what belongs to a father, without harming the dignity of virginity, this I give you, to give the name to the child; for you shall call him. For even if the child is not yours, yet you will show a father's care toward him. That is why I join you to the child at once through the giving of the name. Then, lest anyone again suspect from this that he is the father, hear how exactly he puts what follows. “She will bear a son,” he says. He did not say, “she will bear to you,” but simply “she will bear,” leaving it indefinite; for she bore him not for Joseph, but for the whole world.

That is why the angel came bringing the name from heaven, showing from this too that the birth was wonderful, since it was God who sent the name from above through the angel to Joseph. For this name was not given idly, but was a treasure of countless good things. That is why the angel interprets it and holds out good hopes, leading him to faith by this too. For we are usually more inclined toward such things, and so we like to believe them more. Having built up his faith, then, from everything, from the past, from the future, from the present, from the honor shown to him, he brings in the prophet too at the right moment, casting his vote with all these. But before bringing him in, he proclaims beforehand the good things that are to come to the world through him. What are these? Release from sins and their removal. “For he will save his people from their sins.” Here too he shows what is marvelous. For he brings the good news of release, not from wars of the senses, nor from barbarians, but from what was far greater than these, from sins, which was never before possible for anyone. “And why,” someone says, “did he say his people, and not add the nations too?” So as not to alarm the hearer for the present. For to one who listens with understanding he hinted at the nations too. For his people are not the Jews only, but all who come to him and receive the knowledge that comes from him. And see how he has also opened to us his dignity, calling the Jewish people his people. For this is nothing other than showing that the one being born is the child of God, and that he is speaking of the King of those above. For to forgive sins belongs to no other power but to that essence alone.

Since, then, we have enjoyed so great a gift, let us do everything so as not to insult so great a benefit. For if even before this honor our deeds deserved punishment, much more after this unspeakable benefit. And I say this now not idly, but because I see many after baptism living more carelessly than the uninitiated, and having no distinctive mark of their way of life. That is why neither in the marketplace nor in the church is it possible to know quickly who is the believer and who is not a believer, unless one is present at the time of the mysteries and sees some sent out and others remaining inside. But one ought to be known not by place but by character. For outward dignities are naturally made plain by the marks placed outwardly around them; but ours must be known from the soul. For the believer must appear not only by the gift, but also by the new life. The believer must be a light of the world and salt. But when you do not even shine for yourself, nor bind up your own rottenness, how shall we know you after this? Because you went down into the sacred waters? But this becomes for you a provision for punishment. For greatness of honor, to those who choose not to live worthily of the honor, is an addition of penalty. For the believer ought to shine not only from what he received from God, but also from what he himself contributed, and to be recognizable on every side, by his gait, by his look, by his bearing, by his voice. I have said this not so that we may arrange ourselves for display, but for the benefit of those who see us. But now, wherever I seek to recognize you, I find you appearing from the opposite marks everywhere. For if I wish to learn about you from the place, I see you spending whole days at the horse races and the theaters and in lawless doings, in wicked gatherings in the marketplace and in the company of corrupt men; if from the look of your face, I see you continually guffawing and dissolute, like a grinning and loose courtesan; if from your clothes, I see you no better dressed than those on the stage; if from your followers, you carry parasites and flatterers about with you; if from your words, I hear you saying nothing sound, nothing necessary, nothing that holds our life together; if from your table, the charge will appear greater still.

How then, tell me, shall I be able to recognize you as the believer, when all that has been said votes the opposite? And why do I say the believer? I cannot clearly learn even whether you are a man. For when you kick like an ass, leap like a bull, neigh after women like a horse, are gluttonous like a bear, fatten your flesh like a mule, bear grudges like a camel, seize like a wolf, rage like a snake, sting like a scorpion, are crafty like a fox, keep the venom of wickedness like an asp and a viper, and war against your brothers like that wicked demon, how shall I be able to count you among men, when I do not see in you the marks of such a nature? For seeking the difference between a catechumen and a believer, I am in danger of not finding even the difference between a man and a beast. For what shall I call you? A beast? But the beasts are held by one of these faults; you, gathering them all together, go further than their irrationality. Shall I call you a demon? But a demon is neither a slave to the tyranny of the belly nor a lover of money. When, then, you have more faults than beasts and demons, how shall we call you a man, tell me? And if it is not possible to call you a man, how shall we address you as a believer?

And what is worse, being in so bad a state, we do not even consider the ugliness of our soul, nor notice its deformity. But sitting in a barber's shop and having your hair cut, you take the mirror and examine carefully the arrangement of your hair, and ask those standing by, and the barber himself, whether he has arranged the hair over the forehead well; and often, though an old man, you are not ashamed to be mad after youthful fancies; but of our soul, not only ugly but beast-shaped, become a kind of Scylla or Chimaera, as in the pagan fable, we do not perceive anything at all. And yet here too there is a spiritual mirror, far better and more useful than that; for it not only shows the ugliness but also changes it into unspeakable beauty, if we wish. This is the memory of good men, the story of their blessed life, the reading of the Scriptures, the laws given by God. If you are willing to look only once at the images of those saints, you will see the ugliness of your own mind, and having seen it, you will need nothing else to be rid of this shame. For the mirror is useful to us for this, and makes the change easy. Let no one, then, remain in the form of the irrational creatures. For if the slave does not enter the house of the father, when you become even a beast, how will you be able to set foot on that threshold? And why do I say a beast? Such a man is worse than any beast. For those, though fierce by nature, often become tame when they enjoy human skill; but you, who change their natural fierceness into a tameness beyond nature, what defense will you have, when you lead out your own natural gentleness into a fierceness beyond nature, showing what is wild by nature to be tame, while setting yourself, tame by nature, beyond nature as wild; taming the lion and making it gentle to the hand, while making your own anger fiercer than a lion? And yet there are two obstacles in that case: the beast lacks reason, and it is the most passionate of all; yet by the abundance of the wisdom given you by God you master even nature. You, then, who conquer even nature in the case of beasts, how do you betray in your own case, along with nature, the good of your free choice? If I were ordering you to make another man gentle, not even so would I seem to command impossibilities; but you could plead that you were not master of the other's will, and that it did not all lie with you. But as it is, it is your own beast, and one of which you are entirely master. What