Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 65.1–65.5

“And as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside on the way and said to them, ‘Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles to mock and to scourge and to crucify; and on the third day he will be raised.’” He does not go up to Jerusalem all at once on coming from Galilee, but first works miracles and silences the Pharisees, and speaks to the disciples about poverty (“If you wish to be perfect,” he says, “sell your possessions”), and about virginity (“He who is able to receive it, let him receive it”), and about humility (“For unless you turn and become like the children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven”), and about the recompense of things here (“For whoever has left houses, or brothers, or sisters, a hundredfold in this age”), and about the rewards there (“and he will inherit eternal life,” he says); then at last he approaches the city, and when about to go up, he speaks again about his Passion. For since it was likely that they would forget it, because they did not want it to happen, he continually reminds them, exercising their mind by the frequency of the reminder and cutting short their grief. And he speaks to them privately, of necessity; for the word about these things ought not to be spread to many, nor spoken plainly, since nothing more would have come of it. For if the disciples were troubled on hearing these things, much more the mass of the many. “What then? Was it not told to the many?” someone says. It was told to the many too, but not so plainly. “For destroy this temple,” he says, “and in three days I will raise it up”; and, “This generation seeks a sign, and no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah”; and again, “Yet a little while I am with you, and you will seek me and not find me.” But to the disciples not so; rather, as he spoke the other things more plainly, so he said this too. And why was it said even to the many, if they did not understand the force of what was said? So that they might learn afterward that he went to the Passion foreknowing it and willingly, not in ignorance nor under compulsion. And to the disciples he foretold it not for this reason only, but, as I said, so that, exercised by expectation, they might bear the Passion easily, and it might not trouble them greatly by coming upon them unprepared. For this reason at the beginning he spoke only of his death; but when they had practiced and been exercised, he adds the other things too, for example that they will hand him over to the Gentiles, that they will mock and scourge him: for this reason, and also so that when they saw the sad things come to pass, they might expect the resurrection too from them. For he who did not hide what grieves, and what seems shameful, would reasonably be believed about the good things too. And consider, I pray you, how wisely he arranges the matter by the timing too. For he did not tell them at the beginning, so as not to throw them into confusion, nor at the very moment, so as not to disturb them by this either; but when they had received sufficient proof of his power, when he had given them great promises about eternal life, then he puts in the word about these things too, once, twice and many times, weaving it into his miracles and his teaching. And another evangelist says that he also brought forward the prophets as witnesses; and another says that they themselves did not understand what was said, but the saying was hidden from them, and that they were amazed as they followed him. “Then the gain of the prediction is taken away,” someone says. “For if they did not know what they heard, they could not expect it either; and not expecting it, they could not be exercised by hope.” But I say something even more perplexing than this: if they did not know, how were they grieved? For another evangelist says that they were grieved. If they did not know, how were they grieved? How did Peter say, “Be merciful to yourself; this shall not happen to you”? What then is there to say? That he would die, they knew, even if they did not clearly understand the mystery of the dispensation; but they did not clearly understand the resurrection either, nor what he was going to achieve, and this was hidden from them. For this reason they were also pained. For they had seen others raised by others; but someone raising himself, and so raising himself as never to die again, they had never seen. This, then, they did not understand, though it was often said; nor did they clearly understand what this death itself was, and how it would come. That is why they were amazed as they followed him; and not for this reason only, but, it seems to me, he also astonished them by speaking about the Passion.

Yet none of these things made them take courage, though they continually heard about the resurrection. For besides the death, this above all troubled them, hearing that they would mock and scourge him, and all such things. For when they thought of the miracles, the demoniacs he had freed, the dead he had raised, all the other wonders he worked, and then heard these things, they were astounded that the one who did those things would suffer these. For this reason they fell into perplexity, and now believed, now disbelieved, and could not understand what was said. So little, at any rate, did they clearly grasp what was said that the sons of Zebedee at once came to him and spoke with him about precedence. “We wish,” they say, “that one may sit at your right hand and one at your left.” How then does this evangelist say that the mother came? Probably both happened. For they took their mother with them, to make the supplication stronger and so to put Christ to shame into consenting. For that what I said is true, and the request was rather theirs, and that out of shame they put forward the one who bore them, see how Christ directs his words to them. But rather let us learn first what they ask, and from what intention, and from where they came to this. From where, then, did they come to this? They saw themselves honored beyond the others, and expected from this to obtain this request too. But what is it that they ask? Hear another evangelist revealing this clearly. For because he was near Jerusalem, he says, and they thought that the kingdom of God was about to appear at once, they asked these things. For they thought that it was at the doors, and a kingdom of the senses, and that once they enjoyed what they asked for they would undergo none of the painful things. For they did not seek it for its own sake only, but also as a means of escaping hardships. Therefore Christ first leads them away from these thoughts, bidding them await slaughter and dangers and the utmost terrors. “For can you,” he says, “drink the cup that I am drinking?” But let no one be troubled that the apostles were so imperfectly disposed. For the cross had not yet been accomplished, the grace of the Spirit had not yet been given. If you wish to learn their virtue, learn about them afterward, and you will see them above every passion. For this reason he reveals their shortcomings, so that afterward you may know what they became by grace. That they asked for nothing spiritual, then, and had no notion of the kingdom above, is plain from this. But let us see too how they come forward and what they say. “We wish,” they say, “that whatever we ask of you, you will do for us.” And Christ says to them, “What do you wish?” not because he did not know, but to compel them to answer and lay bare the sore, and so apply the remedy. And they, blushing and ashamed, since they had come to this from a human passion, took him privately apart from the disciples and asked him. “For they went ahead,” it says, so that it might not become plain to the others, and so they said what they wished. And they wished, as I think, since they had heard, “You will sit on twelve thrones,” to receive the first place of that seating. And that they had more than the others they knew; but they feared Peter, and they say, “Say that one may sit at your right hand and one at your left”; and they press him, saying, “Say it.” What then does he do? Showing that they asked nothing spiritual, nor would they have dared to ask so much if they had known what they were asking, he says, “You do not know what you are asking”: how great, how wonderful, how surpassing even the powers above. Then he adds, “Can you drink the cup that I am about to drink, and be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” Do you see how at once he led them away from their supposition, speaking to them of the opposite? “For you speak to me of honor and crowns,” he says, “but I speak to you of contests and sweat. For this is not the time of prizes, nor will that glory of mine appear now; the present is a time of slaughter and wars and dangers.” And see how by the manner of the question he both urges them on and draws them. For he did not say, “Can you be slaughtered? Can you pour out your blood?” But how? “Can you drink the cup?” Then, drawing them, he says, “that I am about to drink,” so that by fellowship with him they might become more eager. And he calls it a baptism again, showing that a great cleansing of the world would come from what was taking place. “They say to him, ‘We can.’” Out of eagerness they at once promised, not even knowing what they said, but expecting to hear what they had asked. What then does he say? “My cup you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized you will be baptized.” He prophesied great good things to them; that is, “You will be counted worthy of martyrdom, and you will suffer what I suffer; you will end your life by a violent death, and in this you will share with me. But to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to give, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

Having lifted up their souls and made them more exalted, and made them unconquerable by grief, he then corrects their request. But what is it that is now said? For two things are asked by many: one, whether to sit at his right hand has been prepared for some; the other, whether the Lord of all has no power to give it to those for whom it has been prepared. What then is the meaning of what was said? Let us resolve the first, and then the second too will be clear to those who ask. What then is this? No one will sit at his right hand or at his left. For that throne is inaccessible to all; I do not mean men only, and saints and apostles, but also angels and archangels and all the powers above. Paul at any rate sets it down as a privilege of the Only-begotten, saying, “To which of the angels did he ever say, ‘Sit at my right hand’?” And of the angels he says, “Who makes his angels spirits”; but to the Son, “Your throne, O God.” How then does he say, “To sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to give,” as though there were some who would sit there? Not as though there were (away with the thought!); but he answered according to the supposition of those who asked, condescending to their mind. For they did not know that lofty throne and the seat at the right hand of the Father, since they did not know even things far lower than these, which were sounded in their ears every day; but they sought one thing only, to enjoy the first places, and to stand before the others, and that no one should be before them with him. As I said already, since they had heard of twelve thrones, not knowing what was meant, they sought the first place. What Christ says, then, is this: “You will die for my sake, and be slain for the sake of the preaching, and share with me in the Passion; yet this is not enough to make you enjoy the first place and hold the first rank. For if someone else comes with martyrdom, and possesses all the rest of virtue far more than you, I will not, because I love you now and prefer you to the others, push aside that one who is proclaimed by his works and give the first places to you.” But he did not say it so, so as not to grieve them; but in a riddling way he hints at this very thing, saying, “My cup you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to give, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” And for whom has it been prepared? For those who are able to become illustrious by their works. For this reason he did not say, “It is not mine to give, but my Father’s,” lest someone should say that he was weak or powerless to bestow the recompense; but how? “It is not mine, but theirs for whom it has been prepared.” And to make what I say clearer, let us work it out on an example, and suppose that there is a president of the games, and that many excellent athletes are going down into the contest, and that two of the athletes who are most intimate with the president come to him and say, “Have us crowned and proclaimed,” trusting in his goodwill and friendship toward them; and that he says to them, “It is not mine to give this, but it belongs to those for whom it has been prepared by their toils and sweat.” Shall we then condemn him for weakness? By no means; rather we shall approve him for his justice and impartiality. As then we would not say of him that he does not give the crown from lack of power, but because he does not wish to corrupt the law of the contests or confound the order of justice, so too I would say that Christ said this, driving them on every side, after the grace of God, to have their hopes of salvation and good repute in the display of their own good deeds. That is why he says, “for whom it has been prepared.” “For what,” he says, “if others appear better than you? What if they do greater things? For because you have become my disciples, will you for that reason enjoy the first places, if you yourselves do not prove worthy of the choice?” For that he himself is Lord of all is plain from the fact that he has all judgment. For he speaks so to Peter: “I will give you the keys of heaven.” And Paul too, making this plain, said, “Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.” And the appearing is that of Christ. And that no one will stand before Paul is plain to everyone. And if he said these things rather obscurely, do not be surprised. For by putting them off with a view to the dispensation, so that they might not trouble him idly and in vain about the first places (for they were suffering this from a human passion), and by not wishing to grieve them, he achieves both these things by the obscurity. “Then the ten were indignant at the two.” Then, when? When he rebuked them. For as long as the verdict was Christ’s, they were not indignant, but seeing them preferred, they acquiesced and were silent, out of respect and honor for the Teacher; and even if they were pained in mind, they did not dare to bring it into the open. And when they felt something human toward Peter too, when he paid the double drachma, they were not annoyed, but only asked, “Who then is greater?” But since here the request was the disciples’ own, they are indignant. And not even here are they indignant at once, when the two asked, but when Christ rebuked them and said that they would not enjoy the first places unless they made themselves worthy of them. [4] Do you see how imperfectly all were disposed, both these, rising up against the ten, and those, envying the two? But, as I said, show them to me afterward, and you will see them freed from all these passions. Hear, at any rate, how this very John, who now came about these things, everywhere yields the first place to Peter, both when he preaches and when he works miracles in the Acts of the Apostles. And he does not hide his achievements, but tells of his confession too, which he made when all were silent, and of his entering the tomb, and he sets the apostle before himself. For since both remained with him when he was being crucified, cutting short his own praise, he says, “That disciple was known to the high priest.” And James did not live long; but from the beginning he was so fired, and leaving all human things ran up to so unspeakable a height, that he was slain at once. So in every respect they afterward became supreme. But at that time they were indignant. What then does Christ do? “Calling them to him, he says, ‘The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them.’” For since they were disturbed and troubled, he calms them by calling them before he speaks, and by drawing them near to him. For the two had broken away from the band of the ten and stood nearer, talking privately. For this reason he brings these too near, both by this very act and by making a show of what had been said and bringing it out to the others, soothing the passion both of these and of those. And he does not check them now as before. For before he brings little children into the middle and bids them imitate their simplicity and lowliness; but here he shames them more sharply from the opposite, saying, “The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great exercise authority over them; but it shall not be so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you, let him be the servant of all, and whoever wishes to be first, let him be last of all,” showing that this sort of thing, loving the first places, belongs to the Gentiles. For the passion is tyrannical, and continually troubles even great men; for this reason it needs a sharper blow. Therefore he too reaches deeper into them, shaming their inflamed soul by the comparison with the Gentiles, and cuts short the envy of the one group and the arrogance of the other, all but saying, “Do not be indignant as though insulted. For those who seek the first places in this way harm and disgrace themselves most of all; for they are among the last. For things with us are not like things outside. For the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them; but with me the last, he is first. And that I do not say these things idly, take the proof of what has been said from what I do and suffer. For I have done something even more. For though I am King of the powers above, I willed to become man, and accepted being despised and insulted. And I was not content even with these things, but went even to death.” That is why he says, “Just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” “For I did not stop even at that,” he says, “but gave even my life as a ransom; and for whom? For enemies. And if you are humbled, it is for yourself; but I for … Do not be afraid, then, as though your honor were being pulled down. For however much you humble yourself, you cannot go down as far as your Master. Yet this descent of his became the ascent of all, and made his glory shine forth. For before he became man he was known to angels only; but when he became man and was crucified, not only did he not diminish that glory, but he took on another as well, that which comes from the knowledge of the world.” Do not be afraid, then, as though your honor were being pulled down, if you humble yourself; for by this your glory is rather exalted, by this it becomes greater. This is the door of the kingdom. Let us not, then, go the opposite way, nor make war on ourselves. For if we wish to appear great, we shall not be great, but even more dishonored than all. Do you see how everywhere he urges them on from the opposite, giving them what they desire? For in what went before we showed this in many instances; and with the lovers of money and the vainglorious he did the same. “For why,” he says, “do you show mercy before men? To enjoy glory? Then do not do so, and you will certainly enjoy it. Why do you lay up treasure? To be rich? Then do not lay up treasure, and you will be rich.” So here too: why do you love the first places? To be before the others? Then choose the last rank, and then you will enjoy the first places. So if you wish to become great, do not seek to become great, and then you will be great. For that other thing is to be small.

Do you see how he led them away from the disease, by showing that by the one way they fall short and by the other they obtain, so that they may flee the one and pursue the other? And he reminded them of the Gentiles for this reason, so that in this way too he might show the thing to be shameful and abominable. For the arrogant man must be low, and on the contrary the humble-minded man lofty. For this is the true and genuine height, which consists not in name only, nor in a title. And the outward kind is of necessity and fear; this resembles God’s. Such a man, even if admired by no one, remains lofty; just as that other, even if courted by all, is lower than all. And the one honor is by necessity, which is why it easily ebbs away; but the other is by choice, which is why it remains firm. For this reason we admire the saints too, because, being greater than all, they humbled themselves more than all. That is why to this day they remain lofty, and not even death brought that height down. And if you wish, let us examine this by reasoning too. A man is said to be high either when he is so by the length of his body or when he happens to stand on a high place; and low likewise from the opposite. Let us see, then, which is such, the boaster or the modest man, so that you may see that nothing is higher than humility and nothing lower than boastfulness. The boaster wishes to be greater than all, and says that no one is worthy of him, and whatever honor he obtains, he loves and clings to more, and thinks he has obtained none; and he spits on men, and longs for honor from them: what could be more irrational than this? For it is like a riddle: from those whom he counts as nothing he wishes to be glorified. Do you see how the one who wishes to be lifted up falls down and stands on the ground? For that he thinks all men nothing compared with himself, he himself declares; for this is boastfulness. Why then do you fall before one who is nothing? Why do you seek honor from him? Why do you lead such crowds about? Do you see a low man standing on a low place? Come then, let us examine the lofty man. He knows how great a thing man is, and that man is a great thing, and that he himself is last of all; and for this reason whatever honor he enjoys, he counts it great. So this man is consistent with himself, and is lofty, and does not change his verdict; for those whom he thinks great, he considers the honors from them great as well, even if they happen to be small, because he thinks those men great. But the boaster considers those who honor him nothing, yet judges the honors from them great. Again, the humble man is caught by no passion: anger will not be able to trouble him, nor love of glory, nor malice, nor jealousy; and what could be loftier than a soul freed from these? But the arrogant man is held fast by all of them, like a worm rolling in mud; for jealousy and malice and anger continually trouble his soul. Who then is lofty? The one above the passions, or their slave? The one who trembles at them and fears them, or the one who is unconquerable and in no way caught by them? Which bird would we say flies higher: the one that is above the hands and the reeds of the fowler, or the one that does not even let the fowler need a reed, because it flies on the ground and can never rise aloft? Such then is the arrogant man; for every snare catches him easily, since he creeps on the ground.