Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 82.1–82.6

“And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and gave thanks, and broke it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. And he took a cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink of it, all of you; this is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

Alas, how great the blindness of the traitor! Even partaking of the mysteries he remained the same, and though he enjoyed the most awesome table he was not changed. And Luke shows this, saying that after this Satan entered into him—not despising the Master’s body, but laughing henceforth at the shamelessness of the traitor. For the sin became greater on both counts: both that he came to the mysteries with such a mind, and that, having come, he did not become better, neither from fear, nor from the benefit, nor from the honor. And Christ did not prevent him, although he knew all, so that you may learn that he omits nothing of what pertains to correction. Therefore both before this and after this he continually reminded and restrained him, by deeds and by words, by fear and by kindness, by threat and by honor. But nothing drew him away from that grievous disease. Therefore, leaving him henceforth, he reminds the disciples again through the mysteries of his slaughter, and in the midst of the table discourses about the cross, making his passion easier to accept by the repetition of the prediction. For if, after so many things had happened and been foretold, they were troubled, if they had heard none of these things, what would they not have suffered? “And as they were eating, he took bread and broke it.” Why did he perform this mystery then, at the time of the Passover? So that you may learn from every side that he is the lawgiver of the Old Testament too, and that the things in it were sketched in shadow beforehand for the sake of these. Therefore where the type is, there he sets the truth. And the evening was a sign of the fullness of the times, and that matters had henceforth come to the very end. And he gives thanks, teaching us how one must perform this mystery, and showing that he comes to the passion not unwillingly, and training us to bear with thanksgiving whatever we suffer, and by this too holding out good hopes. For if the type became a deliverance from so great a slavery, much more will the truth set the world free, and be handed over for the benefit of our nature. Therefore he did not hand down the mystery before this, but when the things of the law had henceforth to cease. And he brings to an end the chief of their feasts, transferring them to another, most awesome table, and says, “Take, eat; this is my body, which is broken for many.” And how were they not troubled when they heard this? Because he had spoken to them before about this many great things. Therefore he no longer establishes that, for they had heard enough; but he tells the cause of the passion, the taking away of sins. And he calls it blood of a new covenant, that is, of the undertaking, of the promise, of the new law. For this he promised of old, and this holds together the covenant in the New Testament. And as the old had sheep and calves, so this has the Master’s blood. And by this he shows that he is about to die; therefore he also mentions a covenant; and he reminds them of the former one too, for that too was inaugurated through blood. And again he tells the cause of his death, “which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins”; and he says, “Do this in remembrance of me.” Have you seen how he leads them out of Jewish customs and draws them away? “For as you did that,” he says, “in remembrance of the wonders in Egypt, so do this too in remembrance of me. That blood was poured out for the salvation of the firstborn; this for the forgiveness of the sins of the whole world.” “For this is my blood,” he says, “which is poured out for the forgiveness of sins.” And he said this, showing by it at once that the passion and the cross are a mystery, and comforting the disciples by this again. And as Moses says, “This shall be an everlasting memorial for you,” so he too says, “in remembrance of me,” until I come. Therefore he also says, “With desire I have desired to eat this Passover”: that is, to hand over to you the new things, and to give a Passover by which I am going to make you spiritual. And he himself drank of it. For so that, hearing these things, they might not say, “What then? Do we drink blood and eat flesh?” and be troubled then (for when he began to discourse about these things, many took offense even at the words themselves), so that they might not be troubled then too, he himself did this first, leading them without disturbance into the communion of the mysteries. Therefore he himself drank his own blood. “What then? Must we do that old thing too?” someone says. By no means. For this reason he said, “Do this,” so as to lead them away from that. For if this works forgiveness of sins, as indeed it does, that is superfluous henceforth. As, then, with the Jews, so here too he bound the memorial of the benefit to the mystery, by this too stopping the mouths of the heretics. For when they say, “Whence is it plain that Christ was sacrificed?” along with other arguments we stop their mouths from the mysteries too. For if Jesus did not die, of what are the rites symbols?

[2] Do you see how much zeal there has been that we should always remember that he died for us? For since the followers of Marcion and Valentinus and Manes were going to spring up, denying this dispensation, he continually reminds us of the passion through the mysteries as well, so that no one might be misled; at once saving and at once teaching through that sacred table. For this is the chief of the good things. Therefore Paul too turns this over up and down. Then, when he had handed it over, he says, “I will not drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in the kingdom of my Father.” For since he had discoursed to them about the passion and the cross, he brings in again the discourse about the resurrection, having mentioned the kingdom, and so calling his own resurrection. And why did he drink after rising? So that the grosser might not think the resurrection was an apparition. For the many took this as a proof of having risen. Therefore the apostles too, persuading them about the resurrection, said this: “we who ate and drank with him.” Showing, then, that they will see him splendidly risen, and that he will be with them again, and that they themselves will bear witness to what happened, both by sight and by deeds, he says, “until I drink it new with you,” with you bearing witness; “for you will see me risen.” And what is “new”? Newly, that is, in a strange way, no longer having a body subject to suffering, but one immortal henceforth and incorruptible, and not needing food. So it was not from need that he ate and drank after the resurrection—for the body no longer needed these things—but for assurance of the resurrection. And why did he drink not water after rising, but wine? He was tearing out by the roots another wicked heresy. For since there are some who use water in the mysteries, he shows that both when he handed down the mysteries he handed down wine, and when, risen, he set a plain table without mysteries, he used wine: “of the fruit of the vine,” he says. And the vine produces wine, not water. “And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.” Let those hear who, like swine, eating without more ado, kick the table of the senses and rise up drunk, when they ought to give thanks and end in a hymn. Hear, you who do not wait for the last prayer of the mysteries; for this is a symbol of that. He gave thanks before giving to the disciples, so that we too may give thanks. He gave thanks and sang a hymn after giving, so that we too may do this very thing. And why does he go out to the mountain? Making himself manifest so as to be taken, so that he might not seem to hide himself. For he was hastening to come to the place known to Judas too. “Then he says to them, You will all fall away because of me.” Then he tells them a prophecy too: “For it is written, I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered”; at once persuading them always to pay heed to what is written, and at once showing that he was crucified according to God’s will, and in every way showing himself not alien to the Old Testament, nor to the God proclaimed in it, and that what was happening was a dispensation, and that the prophets from of old proclaimed beforehand all that was in the matter, so that they might be very confident about the better things too. And he teaches us to know what the disciples were before the cross and what after the cross. For those who could not even stand their ground while he was being crucified were after his death vehement and stronger than adamant. And this very thing is a proof of his death, the flight and the cowardice of the disciples. For if, when so many things have happened and been said, some are shameless and say that he was not crucified, if none of these things had happened, into what lawlessness would they not have fallen? For this reason he confirms the account of his death not only through his own sufferings but also through those in the disciples, and through the mysteries, shaming from every side those sick with the error of Marcion. Therefore he also lets the chief apostle deny him. And if he was not bound nor crucified, whence came so great a fear to him and to the rest? Yet he did not leave them to remain in the gloomy things; but what does he say? “But after I am raised, I will go before you to Galilee.” For he does not appear from heaven at once, nor go away to some distant country, but in the very nation in which he was crucified, almost in the very places, so that from this too they might be assured that he who was crucified was the same who rose, and in this way he might console them more greatly in their gloom. Therefore he also said, “in Galilee,” so that, freed from fear of the Jews, they might believe what was said. Therefore he also appeared there. “But Peter answered and said, Even if all fall away because of you, I will never fall away.”

What do you say, O Peter? The prophet said that the sheep will be scattered; Christ confirmed what was said; and do you say, “No”? Are the former things not enough, when you said, “Mercy on you,” and your mouth was stopped? For this reason, then, he lets him fall, teaching him by this to obey Christ in everything, and to think his declaration more trustworthy than his own conscience. And the rest too gained no little from his denial, perceiving human weakness and the truth of God. For when he himself foretells something, one must no longer reason subtly, nor rise up above the many. For “your boast,” it says, “you will have in yourself, and not in another.” For he ought to have prayed and said, “Help us, so that we may not be torn away”; but he trusts in himself and says, “Even if all fall away because of you, I will never fall away”: “even if all suffer this,” he says, “I will not suffer it”; which was leading him little by little into self-will. Wishing, then, to check this, Christ permitted the denial. For since he did not bear with him, nor with the prophet (although he brought in the prophet for this very reason, so that they might not contradict), but nevertheless since he did not bear with the words, he is taught by the deeds. For that he permitted it for this reason, to set this right in him, hear what he says: “But I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.” For he said this touching him to the quick, and showing that his fall was more grievous than the others’ and needed more help. For the charges were two: both that he contradicted and that he set himself before the others; or rather a third too, that he ascribed the whole to himself. Healing these things, then, he allowed the fall to happen; and therefore, leaving the others, he addresses himself to him. “For Simon,” he says, “Simon, look, Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat”: that is, to disturb, trouble, try you; “but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.” And why, if Satan demanded all, did he not say about all, “I have prayed”? Is it not plain that it is what I said before, that, touching him to the quick and showing that his fall was more grievous than the others’, he turns his word to him? And why did he not say, “But I did not allow it,” but, “I have prayed”? He speaks lowly things henceforth, as he goes to the passion, so as to show his humanity. For he who built the church on Peter’s confession, and so walled it that countless dangers and deaths should not overcome it, who gave him the keys of heaven and made him master of so great an authority, and nowhere needed prayer for these things (for he did not say, “I have prayed,” but with authority, “I will build my church, and I will give you the keys of heaven”), how did he need prayer in order to brace the shaken soul of one man? Why, then, did he speak so? For the reason I have given, and also because of their weakness; for they did not yet have the fitting opinion of him. How, then, did Peter deny? He did not say, “that you may not deny,” but, “that your faith may not fail,” that you may not perish completely. For this came about from his care. For fear drove out everything; for it was immoderate; and it became immoderate because God stripped him greatly of his own aid; and he stripped him greatly because the passion of self-will and contradiction was strong in him. So that he might tear it out by the roots, then, he allowed the agony to seize him so. For that this passion was grievous in him, he was not content with the former things, having contradicted both the prophet and Christ, but after this too, when Christ said to him, “Truly I say to you, this night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times,” he says, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you.” And Luke points out that the more Christ forbade, the more Peter opposed him exceedingly. What is this, O Peter? When he said, “One of you will betray me,” you feared lest you should be the traitor, and compelled the disciple to ask, though conscious of nothing such in yourself; but now, when he cries out explicitly and says, “You will all fall away,” do you contradict, and not once only, but twice and many times? For Luke says this. Whence, then, did this happen to him? From much love, from much pleasure. For since he had been freed from that anguish about the betrayal, and saw the traitor, he spoke with confidence henceforth, and rose up above the others, saying, “Even if all fall away, I will not fall away.” And the thing came in some measure also from love of preeminence; for at the supper too they were reasoning which of them was greatest; so did this passion trouble them. Therefore he checked him, not pushing him to the denial—far from it—but leaving him bare of his help, and exposing human nature. See, at any rate, how subdued he is after this. For after the resurrection, when he said, “And what about this man?” and his mouth was stopped, he no longer dared to contradict as he did here, but was silent. Again, at the ascension, when he heard, “It is not for you to know times or seasons,” again he is silent and does not contradict. After this, on the housetop, with the sheet, when he heard a voice saying to him, “What God has cleansed, do not call common,” though he did not yet clearly know what was meant, he is quiet and does not dispute.

[4] All these things that fall accomplished. And before it he ascribes the whole to himself, saying, “Even if all fall away, I will not fall away; even if I must die, I will not deny you,” when he ought to have said, “if I enjoy your aid.” But after this, entirely the opposite: “Why do you look at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk?” From this we learn a great doctrine: that man’s eagerness is not enough unless one enjoys the aid from above; and again that we will gain nothing from the aid from above if there is no eagerness. And both these things Judas and Peter show; for the one, having enjoyed much help, was benefited in nothing, since he was not willing and did not contribute his own part; but this one, though eager, since he enjoyed no help, fell. For virtue is woven from these two. Therefore I exhort you neither to cast everything on God and sleep yourselves, nor, when you are zealous, to think you achieve everything by your own labors. For God does not wish us to be supine; therefore he does not do everything himself; nor boastful; therefore he did not give us everything; but, taking away what is harmful in each, he left us what is useful. Therefore he also let the chief apostle fall, making him subdued, and anointing him henceforth for greater love. “For he to whom more is forgiven,” it says, “will love more.” Let us, then, obey God everywhere, and contradict nothing, even if what is said seems contrary to our reasonings and our sight; but let his word be more sovereign than both reasonings and sight. Let us do so in the case of the mysteries too, not looking only at the things set before us, but holding fast his words. For his word cannot deceive, but our sense is easily deceived. That has never failed, but this is mostly mistaken. Since, then, the word says, “This is my body,” let us both obey and believe, and look at it with the eyes of the mind. For Christ has handed down nothing perceptible to the senses to us, but in things perceptible all is intelligible. So too in baptism, the gift is given through a perceptible thing, water, but what is accomplished is intelligible, the birth and the renewal. For if you were bodiless, he would have handed down to you the bodiless gifts bare; but since the soul is interwoven with the body, he hands down to you the intelligible things in perceptible ones. How many now say, “I would like to see his form, his figure, his garments, his sandals!” Look, you see him, you touch him, you eat him. And you desire to see his garments; but he gives himself to you, not only to see, but also to touch and to eat and to receive within. Let no one, then, approach with loathing, no one slack; but let all approach fired, all fervent and roused up. For if the Jews ate standing, with their sandals on and their staffs in their hands, in haste, much more ought you to be sober. For those were about to go out to Palestine; therefore they also had the guise of travelers; but you are about to depart for heaven. [5] Therefore one must be awake in every way; for no small punishment is laid up for those who partake unworthily. Consider how indignant you are against the traitor, against those who crucified him. Take care, then, lest you too become guilty of the body and the blood of Christ. They slaughtered the all-holy body, but you receive it with a filthy soul after so many benefits. For it was not enough for him to become man, to be struck and slaughtered, but he also mingles himself with us, and not by faith only, but in very deed makes us his body. Than what, then, ought not the one who enjoys this sacrifice to be purer? Than what sunbeam must not the hand be purer that cuts this flesh, the mouth that is filled with spiritual fire, the tongue that is reddened with most awesome blood? Consider with what honor you were honored, what table you enjoy. That which angels tremble to behold, and do not dare to look at without fear because of the lightning that flashes from it, with this we are fed, with this we are mingled, and we have become one body and one flesh of Christ. “Who will tell the mighty acts of the Lord, make all his praises heard?” What shepherd feeds the sheep with his own members? And why do I say shepherd? There are often mothers who after the pangs of birth hand their children over to other nurses; but he did not bear this, but himself feeds us with his own blood, and in every way intertwines us with himself. Consider: he was born of our substance. “But this is nothing to all,” someone says. And yet it concerns all. For if he came to our nature, it is plain that he came to all; and if to all, also to each one. “And how did not all reap the gain from this?” someone says. This is not because of him who chose this on behalf of all, but because of those who were not willing. He mingles himself with each one of the believers through the mysteries; and those whom he begot he nourishes through himself and does not hand over to another, by this persuading you again that he took your flesh. Let us not, then, be careless, having been counted worthy of so great love and honor. Do you not see with what eagerness children grasp the breast, with what impulse they fasten their lips on the nipple? With the like eagerness let us too approach this table and the nipple of the spiritual cup; or rather with much more let us draw, as nursing children, the grace of the Spirit; and let us have one grief: not to partake of this food. The things set before us are not works of human power. He who did these things then at that supper, he works them now too. We hold the rank of servants; but the one who sanctifies them and transforms them is he himself. Let no Judas, then, stand by, no lover of money. If anyone is not a disciple, let him withdraw; the table does not receive such men. “For with my disciples,” he says, “I keep the Passover.” This table is that one, and has nothing less. For it is not that Christ made that one and a man makes this one, but he makes this one too. This is that upper room, where they then were; from here they went out to the Mount of Olives. Let us too go out to the hands of the poor; for this place is a Mount of Olives. For the multitude of the poor are olive trees planted in the house of God, dripping the oil that is useful to us there, which the five virgins had, while the others, not having taken it from here, perished. Taking this, let us go in, so that with bright lamps we may meet the bridegroom; taking this, let us go out from here. Let no inhuman man approach, no cruel and unmerciful man, no one at all unclean.

These things I say to you who partake, and to you who minister. For it is necessary to discourse to you too, so that you may distribute these gifts with much care. No small punishment is yours, if, knowing of some wickedness in anyone, you allow him to partake of this table. “His blood will be required at your hands.” Even if he is some general, even if a prefect, even if he who wears the diadem himself, if he approaches unworthily, prevent him; you have greater authority than he. And if you had been entrusted to keep a spring of water pure for a flock, and then saw a sheep bearing much mud on its mouth, you would not have let it stoop down and muddy the stream; but now, entrusted with a spring not of water but of blood and spirit, and seeing some who have sin more grievous than earth and mud approaching, are you not indignant? Do you not keep them away? And what pardon could you have? For this reason God honored you with this honor, so that you might discern such things. This is your dignity, this your safety, this your whole crown—not that you should go about wearing a white and shining tunic. “And how do I know so-and-so and so-and-so?” someone says. I am not speaking of those who are unknown, but of those who are known. Shall I say something more dreadful? It is not so grievous for the possessed to be inside as for these whom Paul says trample Christ underfoot, and regard the blood of the covenant as common, and outrage the grace of the Spirit. For one who has sinned and approaches is worse than one possessed by a demon. For the possessed are not punished for being possessed; but these, when they approach unworthily, are handed over to deathless punishment. Let us not, then, drive away these only, but all, simply, whom we see approaching unworthily. Let no one communicate who is not one of the disciples. Let no Judas receive, lest he suffer what Judas suffered. This multitude too is the body of Christ. See, then, you who minister at the mysteries, that you do not provoke the Master by not purifying this body; do not give a sword instead of food. But even if it is through ignorance … fear God, not man. If you fear man, you will even be laughed at by him; but if you fear God, you will be respected by men too. And if you yourself do not dare, bring him to me; I will not allow these things to be dared. I will give up my life sooner than give of the Master’s blood unworthily; and I will shed my own blood sooner than give of blood so awesome contrary to what is fitting. But if someone, after taking much pains, did not recognize the worthless man, there is no charge. For these things have been said by me about those who are manifest. For if we correct these, God will quickly make known to us the unknown too; but if we let these be, why should he make those manifest to us henceforth? And I say these things not so that we may only keep them away or cut them off, but so that, having corrected them, we may bring them back, so that we may take care of them. For so we will both have God propitious, and find many who partake worthily, and receive a great reward for our own zeal and for our care of others; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory to the ages of ages. Amen.