Homilies 67–93

… feasting with Zacchaeus. For where Christ is entertained, and reclines with men, and enjoys our drink and table, the occasion turns into an account of joy. For which of the tax collectors or harlots, or of those who have done unspeakable and dreadful deeds, seeing the Maker of heaven and earth going under a tax collector's roof, or the giver of the ears of corn taking human bread in his hands, or the provider of the grape clusters blessing the winepresses by sharing the drink, would not think it right to make the event a feast and festival? This truly is a feast; this truly is the joy of an angelic banquet: to see the Master with servants, God with men, the Judge with those under judgment, enjoying a common table. For this is why he came to earth, without leaving heaven empty, and became man, without putting off being God: so that, sailing the sea, he might draw up from the depth of sin those storm-tossed on the sea of life; and going round villages and cities, running through lanes and paths and highways, he might bring back to his own flock those wandering at the crossroads like sheep without a shepherd. For he is the one who seeks the lost sheep, leaving the ninety-nine and coming to search for the one. He sought the one, neither despising the many nor preferring the one to the multitude; but the ninety-nine he left, for they had to be lodged safely in the fold, and the one he went out to seek, so that it might not become prey to the devil. For a sheep without a shepherd is a ready meal for wild beasts, and an unsealed soul is easily plotted against by demons. So the other day he snatched Zacchaeus like a sheep from the wolf's mouth, joined him to the fold, and granted him the seal; for as a shepherd [rejoices over] a sheep that had wandered …

then showing, by his reclining, his eating, his drinking, and his consuming of food, that his becoming man was not a phantom. Besides, since the harlot was about to come and show that warm and fiery manner of repentance, he readily accepts the Pharisee's invitation, so that before the eyes of the scribes and Pharisees she might lament her own evils and teach them how sinners, grieving over their sins, ought to win God's favour. 'For behold', it says, 'a woman in the city, who was a sinner.' A woman: the nature that easily slips, the devil's first net, the entrance of error, the teacher of transgression; who was made a helper but showed herself an enemy; who was made good by nature but proved evil by choice; who displayed the beauty of the tree and lost paradise. 'And behold, a woman in the city, who was a sinner', bearing the burdens of Eve, weighed down with many evils. I will tell you the abundance of her former ways, so that you may know the costliness of her repentance.

4. God took a bone from Adam's side, clothed it with flesh, and made Eve, whom he also called woman, and gave her to Adam as a helper. But after they had sinned and transgressed the law, been cast out of paradise, and received death as the penalty, marriage takes the field against death, so that the race might not be consumed by death and perish utterly: so that one sows and the other reaps; one cuts down and the other springs up. And that the grace of marriage was given after they had been made subject to death is clear from Adam's being united with Eve after he went out of paradise. For it is written that after they went out of paradise, then Adam knew his wife. Before sin, then, there was virginity, keeping the garment of nature undefiled; but after the transgression, after the sentence of death, marriage was brought in in exchange, so that by springing up it might conquer death that drains away, and by growing might defeat death that harvests. Since, then, the law of marriage was given for the preservation of the race and the increase of nature, God sowed pleasure in man and made the female alluring: not so that they might be stirred like harlots to intercourse, but so that they might be lawfully joined in marriage. Hence the lawful union of marriage is one, with God; but that which is carried out for the sake of pleasures is subject to death. For honourable

… [how shall I escape] these numberless passions? If I tell men about myself, the way of confession is of no use to me. But shall I hide my evils? But I cannot escape notice. From whom shall I hide, when I cannot hide from God? Where shall I flee, when I find the Judge everywhere, him who is not seen, yet everywhere exposes my evils? One hope of salvation is left to me, one provision for life lies before me: to recognize Jesus and run to him. For he who receives tax collectors does not reject a harlot; he who eats with Pharisees does not refuse a sinner's tears. Since I have learned that he is lodging with Simon the Pharisee, let me go to him. But what shall I ask when I come? Health for my eyes? But that favour is for a time. Release from disease? But that is a small achievement, for eternal death is heavier than the present one. I will let go of everything bodily, and seek the healing of the soul. For I shall find one release from the evils hanging over me, if I see the Judge, if I forestall the time of punishment. I will imitate Rahab the harlot; I will follow the virtuous way of that woman; for God wants nothing else from us than a change of mind.' Having considered this piously, and anointed her mind for faith, she comes in to Jesus where he was reclining, taking her former shamelessness as the occasion for boldness. She says nothing to him, for she did not dare; she knew that the overseer of thoughts needs no words. For what could she say to the one who knows all things? That she had sinned? That she had been the worker of many evils? That, loving and being loved, she had served the pleasure of all comers? These things were plain to God, not only as done, but laid bare in the hidden council chamber of the soul. Knowing, then, that he knows all things, and that nothing can escape him, she shuts her tongue but speaks with her tears. For 'standing at Jesus' feet', it says, 'weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears.' Though she did not speak with her tongue, she uttered with groans that cannot be spoken, bending in contrition of heart, laying bare the multitude of her sins, parading the wicked reasonings, the accursed thoughts, the profane deeds, the lawless associations; for there was none of the evils she had done that she did not lament with tears. For she knew that she received amnesty for what she confessed. 'I said', it says, 'I will confess my lawlessness against myself to the Lord, and you forgave the impiety of my heart.' And not only did she speak without words,

moving the Lord by the groans of her heart; she also sketched the beauty of repentance by her posture. She wept, as one who had laughed much, washing out the evil laughter with good tears, and with the drops from her eyes washing off the stain of her cheeks; so that in the things in which she had sinned, in these she might also make her defence, and in the things in which she had transgressed, in these she might win the lawgiver's favour. For as David washed with tears the bed he had defiled with an unlawful embrace ('I will wash my bed every night', he says; 'with my tears I will wet my couch'), so she too, with the eyes by which she had drawn many of the young into licentiousness, letting loose springs of tears, washed away the hard-to-wash stain of sin, offering her tears to herself as a bath of repentance. The tears she supplied like water; the forgiveness she received invisibly from Christ. Indeed, not only imitating Abraham but surpassing him, she washed Christ's feet. For he set out a basin, washed with water, and wiped with a towel; but she, drawing no water but letting loose fountains of tears, washed the feet of Jesus; and sparing them, lest she outrage pure feet with sinful tears, she put the beauty of her hair beneath them like a towel and wiped the feet. And one could see the little woman bent wholly, from head to foot, to the service of Jesus. Her eyes above sent forth channels like fountains of tears; her soul, lying beneath like a basin, received the drops falling from the feet; her locks wiped them, filling the place of the towel; and her hands, holding the alabaster jar of myrrh, anointed the divine feet, honouring the Myrrh with myrrh. For 'your name', it says, 'is myrrh poured out.'

7. Do you see how a sinful woman, with no share in the divine laws, overcame the ungrateful mind of the Jews? They threw stones at him; she gladdened him with fragrant myrrh. The Jews, ungrateful, unintelligent, and senseless, repaid their benefactor with evils, greeting the cornerstone with stones; but she anointed with myrrh the feet of him who for her sake was to stand all day on the scaffold of the cross. And why do I say she overcame the ungrateful people of the Jews, when she surpassed the whole choir of the saints? For she received a grace which kings did not receive, which rulers did not obtain. 'The kings of Tarshish and the islands shall bring gifts, and all the kings of the earth shall worship him.' And indeed, as the prophet said, they gave gifts and worshipped from afar; but none of them kissed the feet of Jesus. How could they? The Magi came, having taken a star as ally of their supplication; but they brought their gifts from afar, knowing the measure of their own rank. 'For heaven is my

throne, and the earth the footstool of my feet.' Let the woman, then, be praised, for she received the honour due from the whole earth; for she touched the undefiled feet whose dust nations and families shall lick, as it is said, 'and his enemies shall lick the dust.' She touched the undefiled feet; she shared the body of Christ with John. For he reclined on his breast, since from there he was to draw divine teaching; she anointed the feet that walked for our sake. And Christ, not judging the sin but praising the repentance, not punishing the past but approving what was to come, passing over her former evils with amnesty, honours the woman and praises her repentance; he justifies her tears and crowns her purpose.

8. The Pharisee, seeing the wonder, is struck in mind, and, smitten with envy, does not accept the woman's repentance. He even slaps with reproach the woman who so honoured the Lord, and lessens the dignity of the one honoured, condemning him of ignorance. 'For the Pharisee who had invited him', it says, 'seeing it, said to himself: This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what sort of woman this is who touches him, for she is a sinner.' O foolish and senseless one, Pharisee in everything! By saying this you do not expose the woman's way of life, but accuse your own disposition, saying that he does not know who the woman was. So you did not honour him with your invitation as God who knows all things. Are you not ashamed, brilliant accuser and slanderer, that you invite him as God, able to bless, yet cry out against him as a man who knows nothing beyond us? 'This man', he says, 'if he were a prophet'. How much better than you, Pharisee, was the woman at Sychar, who did not know the prophet, yet at first sight confessed the Saviour: 'Lord', she says, 'I perceive that you are a prophet.' And how much more admirable than you is this sinful woman too, whose sin you see, but whose repentance you do not see! You even condemn her whom the Judge justifies, and blame and censure her whom God accepts and crowns; because, seeing God reclining at your house in the form of a man, she recognized and honoured him, and, uncovering the wounds of her soul, asked for mercy and amnesty for her past life. But you, having honoured him by the invitation, dishonour him by reproach, saying: 'If he were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who touches him.' What, then? Because he did not expose your evils, do you condemn him of ignorance? Because he came under your roof, burdened with many evils, do you deny his knowledge? Because you thought fit to have him under your roof, to recline with you and put his hand to your food, and he consented and did not disdain it, do you consider him one of the many? Were you worthy to receive God as a guest, or to set a table before him who prepares a table in the desert? But being a lover of mankind, he did not refuse to receive drink and food even from servants. Why

Why, then, do you accuse the kind Master, Pharisee, who weighs out the balance of his goodness equally to all? Why do you strain out the woman's gnat and swallow the camel of your own evils? Do you want God to be long-suffering toward you, but severe toward her? Why do you provoke the Judge over the charges against others, while asking pardon for your own? Why did you and Judas agree to test the Lord? For you, as though clean of stain, disparaging the woman for her sins, condemn God of [ignorance]; and he, as a lover of the poor, is indignant, saying, 'Why this waste of myrrh? For it could have been sold for much and given to the poor.' O senseless mind! O ungrateful ways! You call the service of the Lord a waste, Judas, and what goes to the honour of God a vain expense?

9. How much have we given of what we have received? Let us reckon how many rivers of mercy have flowed from his nature since the world was made, and God does not count the abundance a loss. How many fragrances the earth puts forth: the rose, the lily, storax, nard, and oil of myrrh, and the rest from which fine myrrh is prepared; and God does not count these a waste. And do you grumble that a small alabaster jar of myrrh is poured on Christ's feet? Did she receive it from you as a gift, that you should grumble? She gave myrrh and received a way of repentance; she gave tears and stopped a fountain of sins. What waste is there, then, if a woman [is saved], the one through whom paradise was shut? Does this grieve you, Judas? Naturally; for her salvation grieved [the devil] too. For he knows that through her the race is henceforth turning to repentance, and he is stung and pained, no longer having a net with which to catch man. That is why he also stirred you to grumble. 'For what purpose', he says, 'is this waste? For it could have been sold for much.' Already you are selling, Judas; already you are planning betrayal: the beginning of evil riddles. But Jesus does not expose his disease or lay bare his love of money, so as not to forestall the betrayal to come; but he says to all: 'Why do you trouble the woman? Why, on top of her former evils, do you reproach the

human being? The race of women has toiled enough; let no one hinder their salvation; let no one trouble her who washed with myrrh the feet that walked on earth for her sake. For the poor you always have with you. Take me too with the poor; for I became poor for your sake though I was rich, so that you by my poverty might become rich. You are killing me, and I make no accusation; she is preparing me for burial, and do you grumble? For in pouring this myrrh on my body, she has done it for my burial. Are you not ashamed, Judas, that she, a sinner, honours me with myrrh, while you, an apostle, outrage me by selling me? The woman prepares for the tomb; the disciple hands over to death. The woman is a sinner, I know; but she had nothing to give me except a fountain of tears, winning the favour of the Fountain with a fountain. But you even put a price on the myrrh, wretch, saying "three hundred denarii"; and you value it not to praise her generosity, that she spent all the wealth gathered from evil on the price of myrrh, but so that by grumbling you might show you had fallen into an accursed evil, having lost so much. But it is no great thing if you are vexed at the loss of three hundred denarii, when, taking thirty, you sold me, the Lord. For "What will you give me", he says, "and I will hand him over to you?" Wretch! A servant sells his Master! The order is reversed: I buy you back from sin with my own blood, and you sell me for thirty obols? And then, does a man sell God? Granted that he sells: who is the buyer? For how much will anyone buy God? Why do you make the thing cheap? Does anyone sell God in the form of a man for thirty pieces of silver, like a household slave, like a barbarian? At least make a distinction: how much for the God who dwells within, how much for the man who is seen? "What will you give me?" What do you want to receive? For they have nothing worthy of God to give. "And they weighed out for him thirty pieces of silver." Does anyone sell for thirty obols a physician who takes no fee, a physician who gives sight to the blind and raises the lame to run?' I say these things to instruct your mind: that you are troubling the woman; that she honoured as dead, before his death, the one who is free among the dead; that through the myrrh she signified beforehand the grace of the burial and of the resurrection. But you will have the rope as the fruit of your betrayal; while her memory, wherever the Gospel is preached, cannot be blotted out. Truly it has come about so. For the myrrh of Aaron and of Eleazar has ceased, and the horn lies idle; but her alabaster jar stretches out with every age, holding the inexhaustible fragrance of her memory.

10. So he spoke to Judas; but to the grumbling Pharisee Christ spoke thus: 'Simon,

to give the [right] answer. But the Lord did not examine his intention; seizing on the answer, he said to him, 'You have answered rightly.' And turning to the woman, he said to Simon: 'Do you see this woman, the sinner, rejected by you but being saved by me? I entered your house' (yours is the house, not mine, full of reproach). 'You gave no water for my feet': feet covered in dust for your sake, feet that endured toil so that I might free from toil those who labour and are heavy laden. You offered half the honour, admiring what is above but not caring for what is below. 'But you gave no water for my feet; she let loose fountains of tears from her eyelids and wiped off the stain of her sin. You gave me no kiss': would that Judas too had not, who worked the betrayal with a kiss. 'But she, from the time she came in, has not ceased kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil': for 'let not the oil of a sinner anoint my head'. How could he who neglected the feet honour the head? 'But she anointed even my feet with myrrh.' For 'your name', it says, 'is myrrh emptied out': emptied out, not poured. For since the vessel of the Jewish mind was rotten, therefore the myrrh was emptied out from your alabaster box at my feet, so that through me the grace of its fragrance might be channelled to the nations. 'Therefore I tell you, her many sins are forgiven'; because you, receiving me under your roof, neither honoured me with a kiss nor served me with anointing; but she, receiving amnesty for many evils, honoured me with tears and myrrh, as if mixing a twofold offering.

12. Let us call blessed, then, the woman who covered the evils of Eve: the sinner, the harlot, the procurer of good things, who had the Judge himself as her advocate, who by her tears overcame the lament of judgment. All you who are present, emulate what you have heard; imitate not the harlot's pleasure but her lament. For pleasure begot lament, but lament procured release from evils. Wash your body, then, not with water but with tears; anoint not with myrrh but

your members with chastity. Put on, not the fabrics of the Seres, but the incorruptible garment of self-control, so that you may obtain the same glory, sending up glory to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world; to whom be glory and honour and worship, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Oration 5. On the day of holy Saturday.

1. Today we keep the funeral feast of our Saviour. He, below among the dead, is loosing the bonds of death, filling Hades with light, and waking those who sleep; and we dance on the earth, picturing the resurrection, and we do not fear that corruption may prevail over incorruption. For 'you will not give your holy one to see corruption', it says. And perhaps Jews and Greeks laugh at our philosophy, the one awaiting another Christ, the others shutting up their hopes in tombs, of whom the prophet fittingly says, 'Their tombs are their houses for ever.' But those who laugh will groan (for they will groan later, when they see him whom they pierced and outraged); while we, weeping, mix pleasure with the suffering. Death seized the Master, Christ; but it will not keep the Life with itself. It swallowed; it swallowed in ignorance, but it vomited up many with him. He is held now of his own will; after this day, having despoiled Hades, he rises. Yesterday, crucified, he darkened the sun, and night came on at midday; today death is undone, having received a strange corpse. Yesterday creation mourned, seeing the madness of the Jews, and darkness put on a robe of mourning; today 'the people sitting in darkness have seen a great light'. Yesterday the earth was shaken and took counsel to flee and part from its inhabitants; the mountains were struck, the rocks were split, and the temple stood naked, as if alive, having torn its garment, showing by what it suffered that the holy things had been profaned. The lifeless things perceived the outrage, while those who dared it had souls without perception. The elements were indignant, and would nearly have left their order and brought confusion on the whole, had they not perceived the Creator's will, that he was not outraged against his will,

who struck Egypt with the ten plagues and covered the head of Pharaoh with the waters. The face that the Cherubim cannot bear to look on is spat upon. And suffering these things, he prayed for those who crucified him, saying, 'Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.' He conquers wickedness with goodness. He makes a defence for those who killed Christ, netting them for salvation. He dissolves the charge by pleading their ignorance. He is not angry at becoming the plaything of their drunken violence; he endures the drunkenness, and with kindness calls them to repentance. What need is there to say more? Profiting nothing from his goodness, they shut up in a tomb him whom nothing that exists can contain; and they put seals on it, guarding our salvation; and, fearing the resurrection, they set soldiers as guards over the tomb. Who ever saw a corpse under guard? Or rather, who ever saw a corpse warred against? Who ever heard of a death that was doubted, and struck fear into those who brought it about? Who does not stop at an enemy once he has taken his life? Who does not end his enmity, content with the death of his foe? Why are you afraid of the one you destroyed, O Jew? Why do you fear the one you killed? Do you tremble at the departed? Why do you dread the slain? Why are you anxious about the one you crucified? You have security from the slaughter; take courage. If the dead man is a mere man, he does not rise; if a mere man, you fixed the cross well; if a mere man, he did not speak truly when he said, 'Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it.' If a mere man, he is held by death; if a mere man, why do you seal the tomb, you fool? Wait for the third day, and you will see the refutation of your madness. Stop meddling, and you will see the outcome of events. Stop raging against the truth. Stop fighting against God and wounding yourself by fighting. Stop outraging the Sun of righteousness, thinking to quench his rays. Stop striving to choke the fountain of life. Stop troubling the rulers and talking about a guard. Stop buying falsehood and corrupting the soldiers. Do not labour uselessly; do not spend your goods on impiety and imagine a victory over God. Do not give the soldiers money to say one thing instead of another. Do not lull the crowd to sleep at the tomb. Do not trust in arms. The resurrection is not prevented by arms, not hindered by seals, not barred by soldiers, not stolen by money; it is received by faith. Did you not see Lazarus shaking off death again like sleep? Did you see how he walked with the grave-bands still on, when he heard 'Come'? Did you see how the dead man obeyed the command, and the bond did not hinder him? Did you see how the voice fitted together the one dissolved by death? He who could do those things can also do these; he who raised the servant will much more rise himself. He who brought to life one who was rotting will not

leave himself dead. But the blindness of the Jews is great; seeing the miracles, it does not see. They have eyes and do not see; they have ears and do not hear. For the god of this age has blinded their hearts, so that the gospel of righteousness might not shine on them. But let us leave them for the present to their folly, and let us say with Mary and those with her, the faithful, picturing to ourselves in our minds the Saviour's tomb: 'They have taken away our Lord, and we do not know what they have done with him.' To him be glory, with the undefiled Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.