Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 68.1–68.4

“Hear another parable. There was a man, a householder, who planted a vineyard, and put a hedge around it, and dug a winepress in it, and built a tower; and he let it out to farmers and went abroad. And when the season of the fruits drew near, he sent his servants to receive the fruits. And the farmers took the servants, and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other servants, more than the first, and they did the same to them. Last of all he sent his son to them, saying, ‘Perhaps they will respect my son.’ But the farmers, seeing the son, said among themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and take his inheritance.’ And they cast him out of the vineyard and killed him. When then the lord of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those farmers? They say to him, ‘He will miserably destroy those miserable men, and will let out the vineyard to other farmers, who will render him the fruits in their seasons.’ Jesus says to them, ‘Have you never read in the Scriptures, “The stone which the builders rejected, this has become the head of the corner; this was from the Lord, and it is marvelous in our eyes”? Therefore I say to you, the kingdom of God will be taken from you and given to a nation producing its fruits. And he who falls on this stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will scatter him like dust.’” By this parable he hints at many things: God’s providence exercised toward them from of old; their murderousness from the beginning; that nothing belonging to care was left out; that even when the prophets had been slain he did not turn away from them, but sent even his Son; that the God of the New and of the Old is one and the same; that his death would accomplish great things; that they would undergo the utmost penalty for the cross and their daring; the calling of the Gentiles, the casting out of the Jews. That is why he places it after the former parable, to show from this too that the charge is greater and quite unpardonable. How and in what way? Because after receiving such great care, they were outdone by harlots and tax collectors, and that by so much. And see both his great providence and their unspeakable idleness. For what was the farmers’ part he did himself: putting the hedge around, planting the vineyard, and all the rest; and he left them a small thing, to take care of what was there and to keep what had been given. For nothing had been left out, but all was complete; and even so they made no profit, though they had enjoyed so much from him. For when they came out of Egypt, he both gave a law, and raised up a city, and built a temple, and prepared an altar. “And he went abroad”: that is, he was long-suffering, not always bringing punishments close on the heels of their sins; for by the going abroad he means his great long-suffering. “And he sent his servants,” that is, the prophets, “to receive the fruit,” that is, obedience, the display of it by works. But here too they showed their wickedness, not only by not giving the fruit after enjoying such care, which was the mark of idleness, but also by being enraged at those who came. For those who had nothing to give and were in debt ought not to have been indignant nor enraged, but to have entreated. But they were not only indignant, but even filled their hands with blood; and though they deserved punishment, they themselves exacted punishment. For this reason he sent both second and third servants, so that both their wickedness and the love for mankind of the one who sent might be shown. And why did he not send the Son at once? So that, coming to their senses from what had been done to those others, and laying aside their rage, they might respect him when he came. There are other reasons too, but meanwhile let us go on to what follows. What does “perhaps they will respect” mean? Not that he did not know (away with the thought!), but that he wished to show the sin to be great and stripped of every defense. For he sent knowing that they would kill him. And he says “they will respect,” declaring what ought to have happened, that they ought to have respected him. For elsewhere too he says, “if perhaps they will hear,” and there too not from ignorance; but lest some of the unreasonable should say that his prediction was the compelling cause of their disobedience, for this reason he shapes his expressions so, saying “if perhaps” and “perhaps.” For even if they had been ungrateful toward the servants, they ought to have respected the dignity of the Son. What then do they do? When they ought to have run to him, when they ought to have asked pardon for their offenses, they even outdo their former deeds, they strip for further pollutions, always hiding the former crimes by the later ones; which he himself, making plain, said, “Fill up the measure of your fathers.” For from of old the prophets brought these charges against them, saying, “Your hands are full of blood,” and, “They mingle blood with blood,” and, “Who build Zion with blood.” But they were not brought to their senses, though they had received this as the first commandment, “You shall not murder,” and had been bidden to abstain from countless other things for this reason, and were led by many and various means to keep this commandment. Yet they did not put away that evil habit; but what do they say on seeing him? “Come, let us kill him.” For what reason, and why? Having what to charge him with, small or great? That he honored you, and being God became man for your sake, and worked those countless miracles? That he forgave your sins? That he called you to a kingdom? See, together with the ungodliness, how great the folly is too, and the cause of the slaughter, full of great madness. “For let us kill him,” they say, “and the inheritance will be ours.” And where do they plan to kill him? Outside the vineyard.

Do you see how he prophesies even the place where he was to be slain? “And they cast him out and killed him.” And Luke says that he himself declared what those men must suffer, and they said, “God forbid!” and he brought in the testimony. “For looking at them he said, ‘What then is this that is written, “The stone which the builders rejected, this has become the head of the corner”? And everyone who falls upon it will be broken.’” But Matthew says that they themselves pronounced the verdict. But this is no contradiction. For both happened: they both pronounced the verdict against themselves, and again, perceiving what had been said, they said, “God forbid!” and he set the prophet against them, persuading them that this would certainly happen. Yet even so he did not reveal the Gentiles plainly, so as to give them no handle, but hinted at it, saying, “He will give the vineyard to others.” For this reason he spoke in a parable too, so that they themselves might pronounce the verdict; as happened also in the case of David, when he judged the parable of Nathan. And see from this too how just the verdict is, when those who are going to be punished condemn themselves. Then, so that they might learn that not only the nature of justice demanded these things, but that from of old the grace of the Spirit foretold them, and God so decreed, he both brought in a prophecy and rebukes them in a way to shame them, saying, “Have you never read that the stone which the builders rejected, this has become the head of the corner; this was from the Lord, and it is marvelous in our eyes?” showing by every means that they were going to be cast out for unbelief, and the Gentiles brought in. This he hinted at through the Canaanite woman, this through the donkey, through the centurion, through many other parables, and now too. That is why he added, “This was from the Lord, and it is marvelous in our eyes,” declaring beforehand that the believing Gentiles, and as many of the Jews as also believe, will be one, though so great a gulf lay between them before. Then, so that they might learn that nothing that was happening was contrary to God, but that what came about was very acceptable and astonishing, and amazed each of those who saw it (for it was a wonder quite unspeakable), he added, “This was from the Lord.” And he calls himself the stone, and the teachers of the Jews the builders; as Ezekiel too says, “Those who build the wall and daub it with untempered mortar.” And how did they reject him? By saying, “This man is not from God”; “he deceives the crowd”; and again, “You are a Samaritan and have a demon.” Then, so that they might know that the loss would not stop at their being cast out, he added the punishments too, saying, “Everyone who falls on this stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will scatter him like dust.” He speaks here of two destructions: one, that from stumbling and being offended, for this is “he who falls on this stone”; the other, that from their capture, and the calamity and utter ruin, which he also clearly foretold by saying, “it will scatter him like dust.” By these words he hinted at his own resurrection too. Now the prophet Isaiah says that he accuses the vineyard; but here he also censures the rulers of the people. And there he says, “What more ought I to have done for my vineyard, and did not do?” and elsewhere again, “What offense did your fathers find in me?” and again, “My people, what have I done to you? Or how have I grieved you?” showing their ungrateful mind, and that though they enjoyed everything they repaid with the opposite. But here he puts it with greater force. For he does not himself declare, saying, “What ought I to have done, and did not do?” but brings in those men themselves voting that he left nothing undone, and condemning themselves. For when they say, “He will miserably destroy those miserable men, and will let out the vineyard to other farmers,” they say nothing else than this, pronouncing the verdict with great abundance. Stephen too reproaches them with this, which also stung them most, that though they always enjoyed great providence, they repaid their benefactor with the opposite; which itself was the greatest sign that not the one who punishes but those who are punished are the cause of the punishment brought upon them. This, then, is shown here too, through the parable, through the prophecy. For he was not content with the parable alone, but added a twofold prophecy as well, one of David, the other his own. What then ought they to have done on hearing these things? Should they not have worshiped him? Should they not have marveled at his care, both before and after? And if they became better by none of these, should they not at least have become more sober from fear of the punishment? But they did not; rather, what did they do next? “Hearing, they knew that he was speaking about them. And seeking to arrest him, they feared the crowds, because they held him for a prophet.” For they now perceived that he was hinting at them. Sometimes, then, when held fast, he withdraws through their midst and is not seen; at other times, appearing openly, he restrains their desire as it travails; at which they marveled, saying, “Is not this Jesus? See, he speaks openly, and they say nothing to him.” But here, since they were held back by fear of the multitude, he is content with this, and works no wonder as before, withdrawing through their midst and not being seen. For he did not wish to do everything beyond what is human, so that the dispensation might be believed. But they were not brought to their senses either by the multitude or by what had been said; they respected neither the testimony of the prophets, nor their own verdict, nor the opinion of the many; so completely had the love of rule and the passion for vainglory and the seeking of temporal things blinded them.

For nothing so drives men headlong and over precipices, and causes them to fall from the things to come, as being nailed to these perishable things; and nothing so makes us enjoy both these and those as preferring those to everything. “For seek,” says Christ, “the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” And yet even if this had not been added, not even so ought we to long for these. But as it is, in receiving those it is possible to receive these as well; and not even so are some persuaded, but they are like senseless stones, and pursue shadows of pleasure. For what is sweet in the present life? What is delightful? For I wish to speak to you today with greater boldness; but bear with me, so that you may learn that this life which seems burdensome and wearisome, I mean that of the monks and of the crucified, is far sweeter and more desirable than this one which seems to be pleasant and soft. And you are witnesses of this, you who have often asked for death in the troubles and despondencies that have overtaken you, and have called blessed those in the mountains, those in caves, the unmarried, those who live the untroubled life: both you who are in the crafts and in military service, and you who live idly and at random, and spend your days in the theater and the orchestras. For from there, even if countless pleasures seem to gush and springs of gladness, yet countless bitterer things are born. For if someone is caught by love for one of the girls who dance there, he will undergo a torment harsher than countless campaigns, countless journeys abroad, being in a more wretched state than any besieged city. But not to examine those things for now, leaving them to the conscience of those who have been caught, come, let us speak about the life of the many; and we shall find the difference between these two lives as great as that between a harbor and a sea continually beaten by the winds. And consider at once, from their dwelling places, the beginnings of their well-being. For fleeing marketplaces and cities and the tumults in the midst of them, they chose the life in the mountains, which has nothing in common with present things, which undergoes nothing human: no worldly grief, no pain, no such anxiety, no dangers, no plots, no malice, no jealousy, no absurd loves, nothing else of this kind. From here they already practice the things of the kingdom, conversing with glens and mountains and springs, with great quiet and stillness, and before all these with God. And their little cell is clean of every tumult, and their soul free of every passion and disease, fine and light, and far purer than the finest air. And their work is what Adam’s was at the beginning and before the sin, when he was clothed with glory and conversed with God with boldness, and dwelt in that place full of great blessedness. For in what are these worse off than he, when before the disobedience he was placed to work the garden? He had no worldly care; nor have these. He conversed with God with a pure conscience; so do these; or rather they have far greater boldness than he, as they have enjoyed greater grace through the supply of the Spirit. You ought to take these things in by sight; but since you do not wish to, but spend your time in tumults and marketplaces, let us at least teach you by word, taking one part of their way of life; for it is not possible to go through the whole of their life. These lights of the world, as soon as the sun rises, or rather long before its rays, rise from their beds healthy and wakeful and sober (for no grief or anxiety, no heaviness of head, toil and press of affairs, nothing else of the kind troubles them, but they live like angels in heaven); rising, then, at once from their beds, cheerful and glad, and forming one choir, with a bright conscience, all in harmony as from one mouth, they sing hymns to the God of all, honoring him and giving him thanks for all his benefits, both private and common. So that, if we must, leaving Adam aside, let us ask in what this choir differs from the angels, this choir of those on earth who sing and say, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will among men.” And their clothing too is worthy of manliness. For they are not dressed like those who trail their tunics, effeminate and mincing, but like those blessed angels, Elijah, Elisha, John, like the apostles, their garments made for some of goats’ hair, for others of camels’ hair; and there are some for whom skins alone have sufficed, and those long worn. Then, when they have said those songs, bending their knees, they entreat the God whom they have hymned for things that some do not even readily think of. For they ask nothing of things present, for they have no thought of these; but that they may stand with boldness before the fearful judgment seat, when the only-begotten Son of God comes to judge the living and the dead; and that no one may hear that fearful voice which says, “I do not know you”; and that they may finish this toilsome life with a pure conscience and many good deeds, and sail the hard sea with a fair wind. And the father and superior leads them in the prayer. Then, rising and finishing those holy and continual prayers, as the sun’s rays come up, each goes off to work, gathering from it much revenue for the needy.

Where now are those who give themselves up to the devil’s dances and harlots’ songs and sit in theaters? I am ashamed to mention them; yet because of your weakness it is necessary to do this too. For Paul too says, “For just as you presented your members as slaves to uncleanness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness for sanctification.” Let us too, then, compare the choir made up of prostitute women and dissolute young men on the stage with this choir of these blessed men, on the score of pleasure, by which above all many careless young men are caught in those men’s snares. For we shall find the difference as great as if one heard angels above singing that all-harmonious melody, and dogs and swine howling and grunting on the dunghill. For through these mouths Christ speaks, but through those men’s tongues the devil. But pipes sound along with those, with an inarticulate noise and a sight unpleasant, as their cheeks are puffed out and their muscles strained? But here the grace of the Spirit sounds, using the mouths of the saints instead of flute and lyre and pipe. Or rather, whatever we say, it is not possible to present the pleasure, because of those nailed to the clay and the brickmaking. For this reason I would have wished to take one of those who are mad about these things and lead him there and show him the choir of these saints, and I would have needed no further word. Yet even if we are speaking to men of clay, we shall try by word too to draw them up at least little by little out of the slime and the mire. For from there the hearer at once receives the fire of absurd love; for as though the sight of the harlot were not enough to inflame the mind, they add also the ruin that comes from the voice; but here, even if the soul has something of the kind, it at once puts it away. And not only the voice and the sight, but the garments too, even more than these, disturb those who watch. And if one of the duller and neglected sort is poor, from the spectacle he will often fret countless times, and will say to himself, “The harlot and the dissolute young man, children of cooks and cobblers, often of slaves too, live in such luxury; while I, free and born of free parents, choosing just labors, cannot even in a dream imagine these things”; and so he goes away consumed with despondency. But with the monks there is nothing of the kind, but quite the opposite. For when he sees the children of the rich and the descendants of illustrious forefathers clothed in such garments as not even the lowest of the poor wear, and rejoicing in this, consider what consolation for his poverty he goes away with. And if he is rich, he goes away sobered and better. Again, in the theater, when they see the harlot decked with gold, the poor man will groan and lament, seeing his own wife having nothing of the kind; while the rich will despise and spit upon the wives who live with them, because of this sight. For when that woman displays to those who watch her figure, her glance, her voice, her gait, all … they go away inflamed, and enter their own houses thereafter as captives. From this come insults and dishonors, from this enmities, wars, daily deaths; from this life becomes unlivable for those who are caught, and the wife who lives with them is thereafter disagreeable, and the children not so dear, and everything in the house upside down, and even the very sunlight seems a trouble. But from these choirs no such disagreeableness comes; but the wife will receive her husband gentle and mild, freed from every absurd pleasure, and will find him easier to live with than before. Such evils does that choir give birth to, and this one such good things: the one making wolves out of sheep, the other making lambs out of wolves. But perhaps we have not yet said anything about the pleasure. And what could be sweeter than not to be troubled nor pained in mind, nor despondent and groaning? But let us carry the argument further, and examine the enjoyment of each, of the song and of the spectacle; and we shall see that the one lasts until evening, while the spectator sits in the theater, but afterward torments him more grievously than any goad, while the other flourishes continually in the souls of those who have seen it. For the bearing of the men, the delightfulness of the place, the sweetness of the way of life, the purity of the conduct, the grace of that most beautiful and spiritual singing, they have always settled within themselves. Those, at any rate, who enjoy these harbors continually flee the tumults of the many as if they were a storm. And not only when singing and praying, but also when fastened to their books, they are a delightful sight to those who see them. For when they have dismissed the choir, one takes Isaiah and converses with him, another talks with the apostles, another goes through what others have labored over, and philosophizes about God, about this universe, about the visible things, about the invisible, about things of sense, about things of the mind, about the meanness of this life, about the greatness of the life to come. [5] And they feed on the best food, setting before themselves not the boiled flesh of irrational animals, but the oracles of God, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb, a wonderful honey, and far better than that which John ate of old in the desert. For this honey is not gathered by wild bees settling on flowers, nor do they ripen dew and put it into hives; but the grace of the Spirit, preparing it, lays it up in the souls of the saints instead of combs and hives and cells, so that whoever wishes may eat it continually without fear. Imitating these bees, then, they too fly about the combs of the holy books, gathering great pleasure from them. And if you wish to learn what their table is, come near, and you will see them belching forth such things, all gentle and sweet, and full of spiritual fragrance. Those mouths can utter no shameful word, nothing scurrilous, nothing harsh, but everything worthy of heaven. One would not be wrong in comparing the mouths of the many who are dragged about in the marketplaces and rave over worldly affairs to sewers of some filth, and the mouths of these to springs flowing with honey and pouring forth pure streams. And if anyone was annoyed that I called the mouths of the many sewers of filth, let him know that I spoke very sparingly. For Scripture does not even use this measure, but another far more vehement comparison: “For the poison of asps is under their lips, and their throat is an open grave.” But theirs are not such, but full of great fragrance. And such are the things here; but the things there, what word will present to us, what mind conceive: the angelic lot, the inexpressible blessedness, the unspeakable good things? Perhaps many of you have now been warmed and have fallen into desire for this noble way of life; but what is the gain, when you have this fire only while you are here, but when you go out you quench the flame and this longing withers? How then may this not happen? While this love is warm in you, go away to those angels themselves, and kindle it still more. For our word will not be able to set you on fire so much as the sight of the things themselves. Do not say, “I will talk with my wife and settle my affairs first.” This delay is the beginning of carelessness. Hear that someone wished to take leave of those in his house, and the prophet did not allow it. And why do I speak of taking leave? The disciple wished to bury his father, and Christ did not allow even this. And yet what business seems to you so necessary as a father’s burial? But not even this did he permit. Why ever not? Because the devil stands ready, intently, wishing to find some way in; and if he lays hold of a little busyness and delay, he works great carelessness. For this reason someone advises, “Do not put it off from day to day.” For so you will be able to accomplish more, so your household affairs too will be well arranged for you. “For seek,” he says, “the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” For if we set those who disregard their own affairs and put the care of ours first in great freedom from anxiety, much more will God, who cares and provides even without these things. Do not, then, be anxious about your affairs, but leave them to God. For if you are anxious, you are anxious as a man; but if God provides, he provides as God. Do not be anxious about them, leaving aside the greater things, since then he himself will not provide for them much. That he may provide for them much, then, entrust everything to him alone. For if you yourself handle them, leaving aside the spiritual things, he will not take much care of them. That these things too may go well for you, then, and that you may be rid of all anxiety, hold to the spiritual things, disregard the worldly; for so you will have the earth along with heaven, and will obtain the good things to come, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the might to the ages of ages. Amen.