Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 48.2–48.7

And in Luke he also sets down examples of this, saying that neither did Elijah come to his own people, but to the foreign widow; nor was any other leper healed by Elisha but the foreigner Naaman; and the Israelites neither received benefits nor conferred them, but the strangers. And he says these things showing everywhere their evil habit, and that nothing new happens in his case. “At that time Herod the tetrarch heard the report of Jesus.” For King Herod, this man’s father, who killed the children, had died. And not without purpose does the evangelist mark the time, but so that you may learn the tyrant’s pride and carelessness. For he did not learn the things about him at the beginning, but after a very long time. For such are those in power and clothed with much pomp: they learn these things late, because they take no great account of them. But consider, I pray you, how great a thing virtue is, that he fears him even when he is dead, and from fear even philosophizes about resurrection. “For he said,” it says, “to his servants, ‘This is John, whom I killed; he has risen from the dead, and for this reason these powers are at work in him.’” Do you see the fear intensified? For not even then did he dare to speak it out abroad, but even then he speaks to his own servants. But nevertheless this opinion too was a soldier’s opinion, and unreasonable. For many rose from the dead, and none did anything of this kind. And the words seem to me to come from both vanity and fear. For such are irrational souls; they often admit a mixture of contrary passions. And Luke says that the crowds said, “This is Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the ancient prophets”; but he, as though saying something wiser than the others, said this. And it is likely that at first, to those who said that he was John (for many said this too), he denied it, and said, “I killed him,” boasting and priding himself. For Mark and Luke too say that he said, “I beheaded John.” But when the rumor had prevailed, then he too says the same things as the many. Then the evangelist recounts the history for us too. And why did he not bring it in as a principal matter? Because their whole business was to tell the things of Christ, and they made no other thing a by-work, except when it was going to contribute again to the same end. So they would not have mentioned the history now either, except because of Christ, and because Herod said that he had risen. And Mark says that Herod greatly honored the man, and that while being reproved. So great a thing is virtue. Then, recounting it, he speaks thus: “For Herod had seized John and bound him and put him in prison because of Herodias, the wife of Philip his brother. For John said to him, ‘It is not lawful for you to have her.’ And wishing to kill him, he feared the crowd, because they held him as a prophet.” And for what reason does John say nothing to her, but to the man? Because he was the one with more authority. And see how inoffensive he makes the accusation, as though recounting history rather than bringing an accusation. “But when Herod’s birthday was kept,” it says, “the daughter of Herodias danced in the midst and pleased Herod.” O devilish banquet! O satanic spectacle! O lawless dance, and the reward of the dance more lawless still! For a murder more accursed than all murders was dared, and he who was worthy to be crowned and proclaimed was slaughtered in the midst, and the trophy of the demons was set up on the table. And the manner of the victory was worthy of what was done. “For the daughter of Herodias danced,” it says, “in the midst, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath to give her whatever she might ask. And she, being prompted by her mother, says, ‘Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.’” The charge is double: both that she danced, and that she pleased, and pleased so much as even to receive murder as her reward. Do you see how cruel, how insensible, how senseless he was? He makes himself liable by an oath, and makes her mistress of the request. And when he saw that the evil had come to pass, he was grieved, it says; and yet from the beginning he had bound him. For what reason then is he grieved? Such is virtue: even among the wicked it is worthy of wonder and praise. But O the madness of that woman! When she ought to have wondered at him, when she ought to have worshiped him, because he defended her when she was outraged, she even helps to contrive the drama, and lays the snare, and asks a satanic favor. “But he feared because of the oaths,” it says, “and those reclining with him.” And how did you not fear the more grievous thing? For if you feared to have witnesses of perjury, much more ought you to have feared to have so many witnesses of so lawless a slaughter.

And since I think that many do not know the ground of the charge from which the murder was born, it is necessary to state this too, so that you may learn the lawgiver’s wisdom. What then was the old law which Herod trampled on and John defended? The wife of one who died childless had to be given to his brother. For since death was an evil without consolation, and everything was done on behalf of life, he legislates that the living brother should marry her, and that the child born should be called by the name of the dead man, so that his house might not fall. For if the dead man was not even going to leave children, which is the greatest consolation for death, the grief was going to be incurable. For this reason the lawgiver devised this comfort for those deprived of children by nature, and commanded that the child born be reckoned to the dead man. But when there was a child, this marriage was no longer permitted. “And for what reason?” someone says. “For if it was lawful for another, much more for the brother.” By no means. For he wishes kinship to be extended, and the occasions of intimacy with one another to be many. Why then, when he died childless, did not another marry her? Because in that way the child would not have been thought to be the departed man’s; but now, when the brother sows, the device became credible. And besides, another man was under no necessity to establish the house of the dead man; but this man held the claim that came from kinship. Since then Herod married his brother’s wife, who had a child, for this reason John accuses him, and accuses him with measure, displaying gentleness together with boldness. But consider, I pray you, how the whole spectacle was satanic. For first, it was made up of drunkenness and luxury, from which nothing sound could come. Second, it had corrupt spectators, and a host more lawless than all. Third, the pleasure was unreasonable. Fourth, the girl, on whose account the marriage was lawless, who ought even to have been hidden, since her mother was outraged through her, comes in parading herself, and the virgin outdoes all harlots. And the time too contributes no little to the accusation of this lawlessness. For when he ought to have given thanks to God that on that day he had brought him into the light, then he dares those lawless things; when he ought to have released one in bonds, then he adds slaughter to the bonds. Hear, you virgins, or rather you married women too, as many as consent to behave so unseemly at the weddings of others, leaping and jumping and putting our common nature to shame. Hear, you men too, as many as pursue costly banquets full of drunkenness, and fear the devil’s pit. For so mightily did he then take that wretched man as to make him swear to give even the half of his kingdom. For Mark says this, that he swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom.” At so much did he value his own rule, so utterly once for all did he become a captive of passion, as to give it up for a dance. And why do you wonder if these things happened then, when even now, after so much philosophy, many give up even their souls for the dancing of these effeminate youths, without even the necessity of an oath? For being made captives by pleasure, they are led like cattle wherever the wolf drags them. Which that madman too then suffered, being mad in the two utmost ways: both in making her mistress, mad as she was and drunk with passion, and refusing nothing; and in binding the thing with the necessity of an oath. But lawless as he was, the woman was more lawless than all, both than the girl and than the tyrant. For she was the architect of all the evils and wove the whole drama, she who above all ought to have been grateful to the prophet. For the daughter, persuaded by her, both behaved shamefully and danced and asked for the murder; and Herod was netted by her. Do you see how justly Christ said, “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me”? For if she had kept this law, she would not have transgressed so many laws, she would not have committed this bloody murder. For what could be worse than this brutality? To ask murder as a favor, a lawless murder, a murder in the middle of a supper, a murder publicly and shamelessly? For she did not come privately and speak about these things, but publicly, and, throwing off the mask, with bare head, and taking the devil as her advocate, so she says what she says. For he both made her win approval in dancing and then captured Herod. For where there is dancing, there is the devil. For God did not give us feet for this, but that we might walk in good order; not that we might behave shamefully, not that we might leap like camels (for they too are unpleasant when they dance, let alone women), but that we might dance with the angels. For if the body is shameful when it behaves so unseemly, much more the soul. Such are the dances of the demons; such are the jests of the ministers of the demons.

And consider the request itself: “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” Do you see her who had put off all blushing, who had become wholly the devil’s? She even mentions his dignity, and not even so is she ashamed, but as though speaking of some dish, so she asks that that sacred and blessed head be brought in on a platter. And she does not even give a reason, for she had none to give; but simply asks to be honored by the misfortunes of others. And she did not say, “Bring him in here and slaughter him”; for she would not have borne his boldness of speech when he was about to die. For she feared to hear the awesome voice even of one being slaughtered; for not even when about to be beheaded would he have kept silence. For this reason she says, “Give me here on a platter”; for “I long to see that tongue silent.” For she was eager not only to be rid of his reproofs, but also to trample on him and jeer at him as he lay there. And God bore it, and neither sent a thunderbolt from above to burn up that shameless face, nor commanded the earth to open and receive that evil banquet; at once crowning the righteous man the more, and leaving great consolation to those who afterward suffer something unjustly. Let us hear, then, as many of us as suffer terrible things at the hands of wicked men while living in virtue. For then too God bore that the man in the wilderness, the man in the leather girdle, the man in the garment of hair, the prophet, the one greater than the prophets, the one who had none greater among those born of women, should even be slaughtered, and by a licentious girl and a corrupt harlot, and that while he was defending the divine laws. Reckoning these things, then, let us bear nobly all that we may suffer. For then too this bloodthirsty and lawless woman had as much power as she desired to avenge herself on the one who had grieved her, and fulfilled all her anger, and God allowed it. And yet he had said nothing to her, nor accused her, but blamed the husband only. But her conscience was a bitter accuser. Therefore she raved into greater evils, pained and stung, and put all to shame together, herself, her daughter, her departed husband, her living adulterer, and strove to outdo her former deeds. “For if you are pained,” she says, “that he commits adultery, I make him a murderer too, and make him the slayer of his accuser.” Hear, as many of you as are excited about women more than is right. Hear, as many of you as offer oaths about uncertain things, and make others masters of your destruction, and dig a pit for yourselves. For so this man too perished. For he expected her to ask a request worthy of the banquet, and, being a girl, at a feast and a banquet and a festival, to ask some bright and pleasing favor, not to ask for a head; and he was deceived. But nevertheless none of these things will stand in his defense. For even if she had acquired the soul of men who fight wild beasts, yet he ought not to have been deceived, nor to have served such tyrannical commands. For first, who would not have shuddered seeing that sacred head dripping with blood laid out at the supper? But not the lawless Herod, nor his more accursed wife. For such are women who play the harlot: bolder and crueler than all. For if we shudder hearing these things, what is it likely that that sight then worked? What did those reclining with them suffer, seeing a freshly slaughtered head dripping blood in the midst of the banquet? But that bloodthirsty woman, fiercer than the Furies, suffered nothing at this sight, but even exulted; and yet, if from nothing else, from the sight alone it was likely that she would have become numb. But that murderess, thirsting for the blood of prophets, suffered nothing of the kind. For such is sexual immorality: it makes women not only licentious but also murderous. Those at any rate who desire to commit adultery are prepared even for the slaughter of the husbands they wrong; and not one only, nor two, but they are ready to dare countless murders. And many are witnesses of these dramas. Which she too then did, expecting at last to escape notice and to hide her daring. But the very opposite came about; for afterward John cried out the more loudly.

But vice looks only to the present, like those in fever when they ask unseasonably for cold water. For if she had not slaughtered her accuser, her daring would not have been so uncovered. The disciples at any rate, when he threw him into prison, said nothing of the kind; but when he killed him, then they were compelled to state the cause too. For they wished to hide the adulteress, and did not want to make a show of the misfortunes of their neighbors; but when they fell into the necessity of telling the history, then they tell the whole daring deed. For so that no one might suspect an evil cause of the slaughter, as in the case of Theudas and Judas, they are compelled to state the occasion of the murder too. So the more you wish to cover sin over in this way, the more you make a show of it. For sin is not hidden by the addition of sin, but by repentance and confession. But behold the evangelist, how inoffensively he recounts everything, and, as far as he can, even composes a defense. For on Herod’s behalf he says, “because of the oaths and those reclining with him,” and that “he was grieved”; and about the girl, that she was “prompted by her mother,” and that she brought the head to her mother, as if he said, “She was fulfilling that woman’s command.” For all the righteous grieve not for those who suffer evil but for those who do it, since these above all are the ones who suffer evil. For John was not wronged, but these who contrived these things so. Let us too imitate these men, and not trample on the sins of our neighbors, but cover them over as far as is right. Let us take up a philosophic soul. For the evangelist too, speaking of a harlot and bloodthirsty woman, was as inoffensive as was possible. For he did not say, “by the bloodthirsty and accursed woman,” but, “prompted by her mother,” calling her by the more auspicious names. But you both insult and speak evil of your neighbor, and you could never endure to mention a brother who has grieved you as he mentioned the harlot, but with great brutality and with reproaches you call him the wicked one, the villain, the hypocrite, the fool, and many other names more grievous than these. For we become more savage, and speak as though about a man of another race, finding fault, reviling, insulting. But not so the saints; rather they mourn those who sin more than they curse them. This let us too do, and let us weep for Herodias and for those who emulate her. For many such banquets take place now too; and if John is not killed, yet the members of Christ are, and far more grievously. For those who dance now do not ask for a head on a platter, but for the souls of those reclining. For when they make them slaves, and lead them into lawless loves, and set harlots against them like fortresses, they do not take off the head, but slaughter the soul, making them adulterers and effeminate men and fornicators. For you will surely not tell me that, flushed with wine and drunk, and seeing a woman dancing and speaking shamefully, you feel nothing toward her and are not carried away to profligacy, overcome by pleasure. And you suffer that awful thing, making the members of Christ the members of a harlot. For even if the daughter of Herodias is not present, yet the devil who then danced through her dances now through these, and goes away having taken captive the souls of those reclining. And if you are able to stay clear of drunkenness, yet you share in another most grievous sin; for such banquets are full of many robberies. For do not look at the meats set before you, nor at the cakes, but consider from where they have been gathered, and you will see that it is from spite and covetousness and violence and robbery. “But these things are not from such sources,” someone says. God forbid! I do not wish it either. However, even if they are clean of these, not even so are costly suppers free from charges. Hear at any rate how the prophet accuses even apart from these things, saying thus: “Woe to those who drink strained wine, and anoint themselves with the finest ointments.” Do you see how he accuses luxury too? For here he does not blame covetousness, but only prodigality.

And you eat beyond measure, while Christ does not have even what he needs; you eat various cakes, he not even dry bread; you drink Thasian wine, but to him you have not given even a cup of cold water; you lie on a soft and embroidered couch, while he is perishing with cold. Therefore, even if the suppers are clean of covetousness, even so they are accursed, because you do everything beyond need, while to him you do not give even what he needs, and that while you luxuriate in his own possessions. But if you were the guardian of a child, and, having taken his property, you overlooked him in the utmost distress, you would have countless accusers, and would pay the penalty under the laws; and having taken the things of Christ and spending them so idly, do you think you will not give account? And I say these things not about those who bring harlots to their tables (for I have no word for them, any more than for dogs), nor about those who are covetous and fill their bellies with others’ goods (for neither have I anything in common with them, any more than with pigs and wolves), but about those who enjoy their own substance but do not share it with others, about those who simply spend their inheritance. For neither are these outside accusation. For how, tell me, will you escape accusation and charges, when your parasite is filled and your dog standing by, while Christ seems to you not worthy even of these things? When the one receives so much for laughter, while the other, for the kingdom of heaven, receives not even the smallest part of this? And the one, so that he may say something witty, goes away filled, while this one, who has taught us things without learning which we would differ in nothing from dogs, is not counted worthy even of the same things as that man? Do you shudder hearing it? Then shudder at the deeds. Cast out the parasites, and make Christ recline with you. If he shares your salt and your table, he will be gentle when he judges you; he knows how to respect a table. For if robbers know, much more the Master. Consider at any rate that harlot, how he justified her at a table, and reproaches Simon, saying, “You gave me no kiss.” For if he feeds you when you do not do these things, much more will he repay you when you do them. Do not look at the poor man, that he comes dirty and squalid; but consider that Christ through him sets foot in your house; and cease from your cruelty and the harsh words with which you always wash down those who come to you, calling them impostors, idlers, and other things more grievous than these. And consider, when you say these things, what works the parasites accomplish? How do they benefit your house? “They make my lunch pleasant, surely.” And how is it pleasant, when they are slapped and speak shameful things? And what is more unpleasant than this, when you strike one made in the image of God, and gather delight for yourself from the insult to him, making your house a theater and filling your banquet with mimes, and imitating, you the well-born and free man, those who are shaved on the stage? For there too there is laughter and slapping. Do you call these things pleasure, tell me, which are worthy of many tears, of many laments and groans? And when you ought to throw them into an earnest life, when you ought to exhort them to their duty, you lead them on to perjuries and disorderly words, and call the thing delight, and think that what procures Gehenna is an occasion of pleasure? For when they are at a loss for witty words, they finish the whole business with oaths and perjuries. Are these things then worthy of laughter, and not of lamentations and tears? And who having sense would say so?

And I say these things not forbidding them to be fed, but not for such a reason. For let the feeding have love for humanity as its ground, not cruelty; mercy, not insult. Because he is poor, feed him; because Christ is fed, feed him; not because he brings in satanic words and puts his own life to shame. Do not look at him laughing outwardly, but examine his conscience, and then you will see him cursing himself countless times, and groaning and lamenting. And if he does not show it, this too is because of you. Let your table companions, then, be poor and free men, not perjurers, nor mimes. And if you wish to require of them a recompense for their food too, bid them, if they see anything improper being done, to rebuke, to exhort, to help in the care of the house, in the management of the servants. Have you children? Let them be common fathers to them; let them share the management with you; let them bring you the gains that are dear to God. Throw them into spiritual trade. And if you see one in need of protection, order them to help, bid them serve. Through these hunt for strangers, through these clothe the naked, through these send to the prison, release the necessities of others. Let them give you this recompense for their food, which both benefits you and them and brings no condemnation. Through these things friendship too is drawn tighter. For now, even if they seem to be loved, they are nevertheless ashamed, as living idly with you; but if they accomplish these things, they themselves will be easier in mind, and you will feed them more gladly, as not spending in vain, and they will be with you with boldness and with fitting freedom, and your house, instead of a theater, will become a church for you, and the devil will flee, and Christ will come in, and the choir of the angels. For where Christ is, there the angels are too; and where Christ and the angels are, there is heaven, there is a light brighter than this light of the sun. And if you wish to reap another comfort from them too, bid them, when you are at leisure, take books and read the divine law. They will serve you in these things more gladly than in those. For these things make both you and them more dignified, but those put all alike to shame: you as an insolent man and a drunkard, them as wretched and gluttonous. For if you feed them for insult, it is more grievous than if you had killed them; but if for their benefit and gain, it is again more useful than if you had brought back men being led away to death. And now you put them to shame more than the servants, and the servants have more boldness and a freer conscience than these; but then you will make them equal to the angels. Free both them and yourself, then, and taking away the name of parasites, call them table companions; and casting out the name of flatterers, give them the name of friends. For this reason God made friendships, not for the harm of those loved and those who love, but for their good and profit. But these friendships are more grievous than any enmity. For from enemies, if we are willing, we even gain; but from these we are of necessity harmed in every way. Do not then keep friends who are teachers of harm; do not keep friends who are lovers of the table rather than of friendship. For all such, if you put an end to the luxury, put an end to the friendship too; but those who are with you for virtue remain continually, bearing every unevenness. But the race of parasites often even takes revenge on you, and puts an evil reputation upon you. From this at any rate I know many free men who have incurred evil suspicions, some of sorcery, others of adulteries and the corruption of boys. For when they have no work, but live their life idly, they are suspected by many of rendering the same services as the boys. Freeing ourselves, then, from an evil reputation, and before all from the Gehenna to come, and doing what seems good to God, let us put an end to this devilish custom, so that whether we eat or drink we may do all to the glory of God, and enjoy the glory that comes from him; which may we all attain, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the might, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.