Sermons to the People 77.1–78.6

This woman, commended to us just now in the Gospel reading, gives us an example of humility and a way of godliness: she shows how to rise from humility to the heights. She was, as appears, not of the people of Israel, from whom came the patriarchs, from whom the prophets, from whom the parents of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh, from whom the Virgin Mary herself, who bore Christ. This woman, then, was not of that people, but was of the Gentiles. For, as we have heard, the Lord withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon, and a Canaanite woman came out from those borders and begged most insistently for the favor of healing her daughter, who was badly tormented by a demon. Tyre and Sidon were not cities of the people of Israel but of the Gentiles, though neighbors of that people. So she cried out, eager to obtain the favor, and knocked hard; and he made as if not to notice her, not so that mercy might be denied but so that her desire might be kindled; and not only so that her desire might be kindled but, as I said before, so that humility might be commended. So she cried out, as though the Lord were not listening, while he was silently arranging what he was going to do. The disciples asked the Lord on her behalf and said: “Send her away, for she is crying after us.” And he said: “I was sent only to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel.” Here a question arises from these words: How did we come from the Gentiles into Christ’s fold, if he was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel? What does so deep a dispensation of this secret mean, that, though the Lord knew why he came—certainly to have a Church among all nations—he said he was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel? We understand, then, that he had to show among that people his bodily presence, his birth, the display of his miracles, and the power of the resurrection; that it was so arranged, so set forth from the beginning, so foretold, so fulfilled: that Christ Jesus had to come to the nation of the Jews to be seen, to be killed, and to gain from among them those whom he foreknew. For that people was not condemned but winnowed. There was a multitude of chaff there; there was the hidden worth of the grains; there was what would be burned; there was that with which the barn would be filled. For where did the apostles come from, if not from there? Where did Peter come from? Where the others?

Where did Paul himself come from, who was first Saul? That is, first proud, afterward humble. For when he was Saul, the name was derived from Saul. And Saul was a proud king, who in his reign persecuted the humble David. When, then, the one who was afterward Paul was Saul, he was certainly proud then, a persecutor of the innocent then, a ravager of the Church then. For he had received letters from the priests (burning, as it were, with zeal for the synagogue and pursuing the Christian name) to bring whatever Christians he found to be punished. As he went, as he breathed out slaughter, as he thirsted for blood, he was struck down by the heavenly voice of Christ: the persecutor was laid low, the preacher was raised up. In him was fulfilled what is written in the prophet: “I will strike, and I will heal.” For God strikes in man what exalts itself against God. The doctor who strikes a swelling, who cuts or burns rottenness, is not cruel. He inflicts pain, yes, but to lead to health. He is troublesome; but if he were not, he would not be useful. So Christ with one word laid Saul low and raised Paul up: that is, he laid low the proud man and raised up the humble one. For what was the reason for his changing his name, so that, though he was called Saul before, he wished afterward to be called Paul, except that he recognized that the name Saul in him, when he persecuted, had been a name of pride? So he chose a humble name, to be called Paul, that is, very small. For paulum means very little; paulum is nothing other than “small.” Glorying now in this name, and commending humility, he says: “I am the least of the apostles.” Where, then, where did this man come from, if not from the people of the Jews? From there the other apostles, from there Paul, from there those whom the same Paul commends as having seen the Lord after the resurrection. For he says that he was seen by about five hundred brothers at once, of whom most remain until now, though some have fallen asleep.

From that people also came those who, when Peter spoke, commending the passion, resurrection, and divinity of Christ, after the Holy Spirit had been received—when all on whom the Holy Spirit came spoke in the tongues of all nations—were pierced in spirit, those of the Jewish people who were listening, and asked counsel for their salvation, understanding that they were guilty of Christ’s blood, since they themselves had crucified him, they themselves had killed him, in whose name, though they had killed him, they saw such great miracles done, and saw the presence of the Holy Spirit. Seeking counsel, then, they received the answer: “Repent, and let each of you be baptized in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and your sins will be forgiven you.” Who would despair of the forgiveness of his sins, when the crime of killing Christ was forgiven to the guilty? They were converted from that very people of the Jews: they were converted, they were baptized. They came to the Lord’s table, and the blood which they had shed in their rage they drank as believers. How they were converted, how fully and perfectly, the Acts of the Apostles shows. For they sold all they possessed and laid the prices of their goods at the apostles’ feet; and it was distributed to each as each had need; and no one said anything was his own, but they had all things in common. And they had, as it is written, one soul and one heart toward God. See, these are the sheep of whom he said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” For to them he showed his presence; for them, as they raged against him, he prayed when crucified, saying: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” The doctor understood that the frenzied, out of their minds, were killing the doctor, and, in killing the doctor, were unknowingly making a medicine for themselves. For by the Lord’s being killed we have all been healed, redeemed by his blood, freed from hunger by the bread of his body. This presence, then, Christ showed to the Jews. So he said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” so as to show them the presence of his body; not so as to despise and pass over the sheep he had among the Gentiles.

For he himself did not go to the Gentiles, but sent his disciples. And there was fulfilled what the prophet said: “A people whom I did not know has served me.” See how deep, how clear, how express a prophecy: “A people whom I did not know,” that is, to whom I did not show my presence, “has served me.” How? It continues: “At the hearing of the ear they obeyed me”: that is, they believed not by seeing but by hearing. That is why the praise of the Gentiles is greater. For the others saw, and killed; the Gentiles heard, and believed. And to call and gather the Gentiles, so that what we just sang might be fulfilled, “Gather us from the Gentiles, that we may confess your name and glory in your praise,” that apostle Paul was sent. That least one, made great not by himself but by him whom he persecuted, was sent to the Gentiles, from a robber made a shepherd, from a wolf a sheep. That least apostle was sent to the Gentiles, and labored much among the Gentiles, and through him the Gentiles believed. His epistles are witnesses. You have this also figured in the Gospel in a most sacred way. The daughter of a certain ruler of the synagogue had died; her father had asked the Lord to come to her; he had left her sick and in danger. The Lord was going to visit and heal the sick girl; meanwhile she was announced dead, and it was said to the father, “The girl is dead; do not trouble the master any more.” But the Lord, who knew he could raise the dead, did not take hope away from the despairing man, and said to the father: “Do not fear; only believe.” He was going on toward the girl; and on the way, among the crowds, a certain woman squeezed in as best she could, who suffered a flow of blood and in that long illness had spent all she had on doctors in vain. When she touched the fringe of his garment, she was made well. And the Lord said: “Who touched me?” The disciples, astonished, since they did not know what had happened and saw him pressed by the crowds yet concerned about one woman who had touched him lightly, answered: “The crowd presses you, and you say, Who touched me?” And he said: “Someone touched me.” For they press; she touched. Many, then, press the body of Christ troublesomely; few touch it to their healing. “Someone touched me,” he says, “for I felt that power went out from me.” And when she saw she was not hidden, she fell at his feet and confessed what had happened. After this he went on and came where he was heading, and raised the girl, the daughter of the ruler of the synagogue, whom he found dead. This happened, indeed, and was fulfilled as it is narrated; but yet the very things done by the Lord also signified something, being, if one may say so, words that are visible and signify something. This appears most clearly where he sought fruit on a tree out of season and, because he did not find it, cursed the tree and made it wither. Unless this deed is taken figuratively, it is found foolish: first, to have sought fruit on that tree when it was not the season for there to be fruit on any tree; then, even if it were already the season for fruit, what fault of the tree would it be not to have fruit? But because it signified that he seeks not only leaves but also fruit, that is, not only men’s words but also their deeds, by withering the tree where he found only leaves he signified the punishment of those who can speak good things but will not do good things. So it is here too. For it is surely a mystery. He who foreknows all says, “Who touched me?” The Creator becomes like one who does not know, and he asks who not only knew this but foreknew all else. There is surely something that Christ is saying to us through a signifying mystery.

That daughter of the ruler of the synagogue signified the people of the Jews, for whose sake Christ had come, who said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But that woman who suffered the flow of blood figured the Church from the Gentiles, to which Christ had not been sent in his bodily presence. He was going to the one, intent on her healing; the other runs in between, touches the fringe as though he did not know, that is, is healed as if by one absent. He says, “Who touched me?” as if to say: I do not know this people. “A people whom I did not know has served me.” “Someone touched me. For I felt that power went out from me”: that is, the Gospel sent out has filled the whole world. And the fringe that is touched is a small and outermost part of the garment. Take the apostles as the garment of Christ. There Paul was the fringe: that is, the last and least. For he said both of himself: “I am the least of the apostles.” For he was called after all, he believed after all, he healed more than all. The Lord was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. But because the people he had not known was also to serve him, was to obey at the hearing of the ear, he did not keep silent about it while he was there. For the same Lord says in a certain place: “I have other sheep that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, that there may be one flock and one shepherd.”

From that people was this woman; that is why she was not despised but kept waiting. “I was sent,” he says, “only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And she pressed on by crying out, persevered, knocked, as if she had already heard, “Ask, and receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” She pressed on, she knocked. For when the Lord spoke these words, “Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you,” he had said just before, “Do not give what is holy to dogs, nor throw your pearls before swine, lest perhaps they trample them under their feet and turn and tear you to pieces”: that is, after despising your pearls they may also do you harm. So do not throw before them what they despise.

And how do we discern (as if they answered) who are the swine and who are the dogs? This was shown in this woman. For to this woman as she pressed on he answered thus: “It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” You are a dog; you are one of the Gentiles; you worship idols. And what is so familiar to dogs as licking stones? “It is not good, then, to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” If she had gone away after these words, she had come a dog and gone away a dog; but by knocking she was made a human being from a dog. For she persisted in asking, and from what seemed an insult she showed humility and obtained mercy. For she was not upset, nor angry, that she was called a dog when asking a favor and begging for mercy; but she said, “Yes, Lord”: you have called me a dog; I am plainly a dog; I acknowledge my name; the Truth is speaking; but I am not therefore to be driven away from the favor. Wholly a dog: “but the dogs too eat of the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” It is a small and slight favor I desire: I do not invade the table; I seek crumbs. See how humility is commended. The Lord had called her a dog; she did not say, “I am not,” but she said, “I am.” And the Lord at once, because she acknowledged herself a dog, said: “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done to you as you have asked.” You acknowledged yourself a dog; I now acknowledge you a human being. “O woman, great is your faith!” You asked, you sought, you knocked: receive, find, let it be opened to you. See, brothers, how in this woman, who was a Canaanite, that is, who came from the Gentiles and bore the type, that is, the figure, of the Church, humility is commended above all. For the Jewish nation, so that it was repelled from the Gospel, was puffed up with pride that it had deserved to receive the law; that from that nation the patriarchs had come forth and the prophets had arisen; that Moses the servant of God had done great miracles in Egypt, which we heard in the psalm, had led the people through the Red Sea as the waters drew back, and had received the law, which he gave to that people. The Jewish nation had grounds for being lifted up; and through that very pride it came about that it would not humble itself before Christ, the author of humility, the curber of swelling, God the physician, who for this reason, though he was God, became man, so that man might know himself to be man. A great medicine! If this medicine does not cure pride, I do not know what can cure it. He is God and becomes man; he sets aside his divinity, that is, in a certain way sequesters it, that is, hides what was his own, and appears in what he had taken on. He becomes man though he is God; and man does not acknowledge himself as man, that is, does not acknowledge himself mortal, does not acknowledge himself frail, does not acknowledge himself a sinner, does not acknowledge himself sick, so as at least, being sick, to seek the physician; but, what is more dangerous, he seems to himself healthy! So that people did not come for this reason, that is, through pride; and they are called the natural branches broken off from the olive tree, that is, from that people created from the patriarchs; that is, the Jews, deservedly barren through the spirit of pride; and into that olive tree the wild olive was grafted. The wild olive is the people from the Gentiles. So the Apostle says that the wild olive was grafted into the olive and the natural branches were broken off. They were broken off through pride; the wild olive was grafted in through humility. This humility the woman showed, saying: “Yes, Lord, I am a dog; I desire crumbs.” In this humility that centurion also pleased him: when he desired his servant to be healed by the Lord, and the Lord said, “I will come and heal him,” he answered, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof.” He did not receive him under his roof; he had received him into his heart. The humbler, the more capacious, the fuller. For hills repel water; valleys are filled. And what then, what did the Lord say to this, after he said, “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof”? To those who followed: “Amen I say to you, I have not found such faith in Israel”: that is, in that people to which I came I have not found such faith. “Such”: what is it? So great. Great from what? From the least, that is, great from humility. “I have not found such faith”: like a grain of mustard seed, the smaller, the more fiery. So the Lord was already grafting the wild olive into the olive. He was doing it then, when he said, “Amen I say to you, I have not found such faith in Israel.”

Finally, see what follows. “Therefore I say to you” (because I have not found such faith in Israel, that is, such humility with faith): “Therefore I say to you that many will come from east and west and will recline with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.” “They will recline,” he says: they will rest. For we must not imagine fleshly banquets there, or desire anything of that kind in that kingdom, as if we were not changing vices for virtues but only putting vices in place of vices. For it is one thing to desire the kingdom of heaven for the sake of wisdom and eternal life, another to desire it for the sake of earthly happiness, as if we were to have that there more abundant and greater. If you think you will be rich in that kingdom, you do not cut off greed but change it; and yet you will be rich, and nowhere but there will you be rich. For here your need gathers very many things. Why do the rich have much? Because they need much. Greater need procures, as it were, greater means; there need itself will die. Then you will truly be rich, when you need nothing. For it is not that you are rich and an angel poor, because he has no beasts of burden and carriages and households of slaves. Why? Because he does not need them; for the stronger one is, the less needy. So there are riches there, and true riches. Do not imagine the banquets of this earth there. For the banquets of this earth are daily medicines; they are necessary for a certain sickness of ours with which we are born. Everyone feels this sickness when the hour for refreshment has passed. Do you want to see how great this sickness is, that like an acute fever it kills in seven days? Do not think yourself healthy. Health will be immortality. For this life is a long sickness. Because you prop up your disease with daily medicines, you seem healthy to yourself: take away the medicines, and see what you can do.

For from the moment we are born, we must die. This disease necessarily leads to death. Doctors certainly say this when they examine the sick. For example: this man has dropsy; he is dying; this disease cannot be cured. He has elephantiasis; this disease cannot be cured either. He is consumptive; who cures that? He must perish, he must die. See, the doctor has said, “He is consumptive; he can only die”; and yet sometimes the man with dropsy does not die of it, the one with elephantiasis does not die of it, the consumptive does not die of it; and yet whoever has been born must die of this. He dies of it; it cannot be otherwise. Both the doctor and the unskilled pronounce this; but if he dies later, does he therefore not die? When, then, will there be true health, if not when there is true immortality? If, then, there is true immortality, no corruption, no failing, what need will there be of food there? So when you hear, “They will recline with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob,” prepare not your belly but your mind. You will be filled there; and the inner belly too has its food. With regard to this belly it is said: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” And they will truly be filled, so as never to hunger.

So the Lord was already grafting in the wild olive when he said, “Many will come from east and west and will recline with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven,” that is, they will be grafted into the olive tree. For the roots of this olive are Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; but the sons of the kingdom, that is, the unbelieving Jews, will go into the outer darkness. The natural branches will be cut off, so that the wild olive may be grafted in. But why did the natural branches deserve to be cut off, except through pride? Why was the wild olive grafted in, except through humility? Hence this woman too said, “Yes, Lord; for the dogs too eat of the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” And so she hears, “O woman, great is your faith!” So too that centurion: “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof.” “Amen I say to you, I have not found such faith in Israel.” Let us learn humility, or hold it fast. If we do not yet have it, let us learn it; if we have it, let us not lose it. If we do not yet have it, let us have it, so that we may be grafted in; if we already have it, let us hold it fast, so that we may not be cut off.

We must look into and discuss, dearly beloved, this vision which the Lord showed on the mountain. For it is the one of which he had said: “Amen I say to you, there are some of those standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man in his kingdom.” From there began the reading that was recited. When he had said this, after six days he took three disciples, Peter, John, and James, and went up the mountain. These three were the “some” of whom he had said, “There are some here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man in his kingdom.” It is no small question. For that mountain was not the whole extent of his kingdom. What is a mountain to him who possesses heaven? This we not only read, but in a way see with the eyes of the heart. He calls “his kingdom” what in many places he calls the kingdom of heaven. And the kingdom of heaven is the kingdom of the saints. For “the heavens declare the glory of God.” Of these heavens it is said at once in the psalm: “There are no speeches or words whose voices are not heard. Their sound has gone out into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world.” Whose, if not the heavens’? Therefore of the apostles and of all faithful preachers of the word of God. The heavens will reign with him who made the heavens. To show this, see what happened.

The Lord Jesus himself shone like the sun; his garments became white as snow; and Moses and Elijah were talking with him. Jesus himself shone like the sun, signifying that he is the light that enlightens every man coming into this world. What this sun is to the eyes of the flesh, he is to the eyes of the heart; and what this sun is to bodies, he is to hearts. His garments are his Church. For garments, unless they are held together by the one who wears them, fall. Of these garments Paul was, as it were, the last fringe. For he says, “For I am the least of the apostles”; and in another place, “I am the last of the apostles.” And in a garment the fringe is the last and least part. So, as that woman who suffered a flow of blood was made well when she touched the Lord’s fringe, so the Church that came from the Gentiles was saved through Paul’s preaching. What wonder if the Church is signified by white garments, when you hear the prophet Isaiah saying, “Even if your sins are like scarlet, I will make them white as snow”? Moses and Elijah, that is, the law and the prophets: what are they worth unless they converse with the Lord? Unless they bear witness to the Lord, who would read the law? Who the prophets? See how briefly the Apostle says this: “For through the law comes knowledge of sin; but now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been manifested”—see the sun—“attested by the law and the prophets”—see the splendor.

Peter sees this and, savoring human things as a man, says: “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” He had suffered weariness from the crowd; he had found the solitude of the mountain; there he had Christ, the bread of the mind. Why should he leave there for labors and pains, when he had holy loves toward God, and therefore a good way of life? He wanted it to be well with himself; so he added, “If you will, let us make three tents here: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” To this the Lord answered nothing; but yet Peter was answered. For while he was saying these things, a bright cloud came and overshadowed them. He was seeking three tents; the heavenly answer showed that for us there is one, which human sense wished to divide. Christ is the Word of God; the Word of God in the law, the Word in the prophets. Why, Peter, do you seek to divide? You ought rather to join. You seek three; understand also that they are one.

So, when the cloud overshadowed them all and in a way made one tent for them, a voice also sounded from the cloud, saying: “This is my beloved Son.” Moses was there, Elijah was there; it was not said, “These are my beloved sons.” For the Only One is one thing, the adopted are another. He was commended in whom the law and the prophets gloried. “This is,” he says, “my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear him.” For you heard him in the prophets too, and you heard him in the law. And where have you not heard him? When they heard this, they fell to the ground. Now the kingdom of God is shown to us in the Church. Here is the Lord, here the law and the prophets; but the Lord as Lord, the law in Moses, prophecy in Elijah; but these as servants, as ministers. They as vessels; he as the fountain. Moses and the prophets spoke and wrote; but they were filled from him when they poured out.

But the Lord stretched out his hand and raised those who lay there. Then they saw no one but Jesus alone. What does this mean? You heard, when the Apostle was read, that now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face. And tongues will cease, when that comes which we now hope for and believe. That they fell to the ground signified that we die, because it was said to the flesh, “You are earth, and to earth you will go.” But when the Lord raised them up, he signified the resurrection. After the resurrection, what is the law to you? What is prophecy to you? That is why Elijah does not appear, Moses does not appear. There remains for you, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” There remains for you that God may be all in all. Moses will be there, but no longer the law. We shall see Elijah there too, but no longer as a prophet. For the law and the prophets bore witness to Christ, that he must suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and enter into his glory. There is fulfilled what he promised to those who love him: “He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him.” And as if it were said, “Since you will love him, what will you give him?”: “And I will show myself to him.” A great gift, a great promise! God does not keep some reward of his for you, but himself. Greedy man, why is what Christ promises not enough for you? You seem rich to yourself; and if you do not have God, what do you have? Another is poor; and if he has God, what does he not have?

Come down, Peter: you wanted to rest on the mountain; come down, preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, reprove, exhort, rebuke, with all patience and teaching. Labor, sweat, suffer some torments, so that what is understood by the Lord’s white garments you may possess through the whiteness and beauty of right action in charity. For in the praise of charity, when the Apostle was read, we heard: “It does not seek its own.” It does not seek its own, because it gives what it possesses. In another place something is said that is more dangerous if you do not understand it. For the Apostle, commanding the faithful members of Christ in keeping with that same charity, says: “Let no one seek his own, but another’s.” For avarice, hearing this, prepares frauds, so as to get the better of someone in business, as if seeking another’s good, and so seeks not its own but another’s. Let avarice restrain itself; let justice come forward: let us hear and understand. It was to charity that it was said, “Let no one seek his own, but another’s.” But you, greedy man, if you resist and twist this command rather to coveting what is another’s, then lose your own. But as I know you, you want to have both your own and another’s. You commit fraud to have another’s: then suffer theft, so that you lose your own. You do not want to seek your own, but you take another’s. If you do this, you do not do well. Hear, O greedy man, listen: the Apostle explains to you more plainly in another place what he said, “Let no one seek his own, but another’s.” He says of himself: “Not seeking what is profitable to myself, but to many, that they may be saved.” This Peter did not yet understand when he wished to live with Christ on the mountain. He was keeping this for you, Peter, after death. But now he himself says: Come down to labor on earth, to serve on earth, to be despised, to be crucified on earth. Life came down to be killed; bread came down to hunger; the way came down to be wearied on the journey; the fountain came down to thirst; and do you refuse to labor? Do not seek your own. Have charity, preach the truth; then you will come to eternity, where you will find security.