Homilies on John 16.1–16.4

[Homily 16.] “For this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites to him from Jerusalem to ask him, ‘Who are you?’” Envy is a terrible thing, beloved, terrible and ruinous to those who envy, not to those who are envied. For it harms and destroys them first, like some deadly poison lodged in their souls. And if it does somehow injure the envied as well, the harm is small and worth nothing, and brings more gain than loss. And not with envy only but with everything else, it is not the one who suffers evil but the one who does evil who receives the harm. For if this were not so, Paul would not have commanded the disciples to be wronged rather than to do wrong, saying, “Why do you not rather suffer wrong? Why do you not rather let yourselves be defrauded?” For he knew well that ruin everywhere follows, not the one who suffers evil, but the one who does it. All this I have said because of the envy of the Jews. For those who had poured out from the cities to John, condemned their own sins and been baptized, these same people, after their baptism, as if from some change of mind, send to ask him, “Who are you?” Truly offspring of vipers and serpents, and anything worse than these! Evil and adulterous and perverse generation, after being baptized, do you then pry into the Baptist and busy yourselves about him? What could be more senseless than this senselessness? How did you go out? How did you confess your sins? How did you run to the one who baptized? How did you ask him what you should do? For you did all these things senselessly, not knowing their beginning and their ground. Yet the blessed John said none of this; he did not accuse them or reproach them, but answers them with all gentleness. Why he did so is worth learning: so that their wickedness might become plain and evident to all.

John bore witness to Christ before the Jews many times; and when he baptized them he constantly made mention of him to those present, and said, “I baptize you with water, but he who comes after me is mightier than I; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” So they felt something human toward him. For being dazzled by the glory of the world and looking at outward appearances, they thought it unworthy that John should be subordinate to Christ. For many things showed John to be illustrious: first, his family, distinguished and renowned, for he was the son of a high priest; then his manner of life and his hard discipline, his contempt for all human things; for disdaining clothing and table and house and even food itself, he had spent his earlier time in the desert. With Christ everything was the opposite. His family was humble, which they often threw up at him, saying, “Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary, and his brothers James and Joses?” And the place thought to be his hometown was in such ill repute that even Nathanael says, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” His manner of life too was ordinary, and his clothes no better than most people’s. For he did not wear a leather belt, nor have a garment of hair, nor eat honey and locusts; but he lived like everyone else, [and was present at the tables of sinners] and tax collectors, so as to draw them to himself. Not understanding this, the Jews reproached him for it too, as he himself says: “The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’” Since then John constantly sent them away from himself to that one who seemed [lesser] to them, [they were vexed at this,] and wishing rather to have John as their teacher, they did not dare to say so openly, but send to him, hoping by flattery to draw him into confessing himself to be the Christ. So they do not send men of no account, as in Christ’s case (for when they wanted [to seize] him they sent [servants and] again [Herodians] and people of that kind), but here priests and Levites; and not simply priests, but those from Jerusalem, that is, the more honored (for the evangelist did not note this without purpose). And they send them to ask, “Who are you?” And yet his birth had been well known to all, so that everyone said, “What then will this child be?” and this report went out into all the hill country. And again when he came to the Jordan, all the cities were stirred, and people went out to him from Jerusalem and from all Judea to be baptized. So these men now ask, not as men who do not know (how could they not know one made known in so many ways?), but wishing to lead him into what I have said.

Hear then how this blessed man answered, not to the question itself but to the intention with which they asked it. When they said, “Who are you?” he did not at once say what would have been the direct answer, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.” What then? He removed what they suspected. For when asked, it says, “Who are you?” he “confessed and did not deny, and confessed, ‘I am not the Christ.’” And see the evangelist’s wisdom. He says the same thing a third time, showing both the virtue of the Baptist and the wickedness and folly of those men. And Luke too says that when the crowds suspected he was the Christ, he again removes the suspicion. This is the part of a right-minded servant: not only not to seize his master’s glory, but even to push it away when the many offer it. But the crowds came to this suspicion out of simplicity and ignorance; these men asked him with a wicked intention, the one I mentioned, expecting, as I said, to draw him by flattery into what they were eager for. For if they had not expected this, they would not have gone on at once to another question, but would have been indignant at him for answering off the point and not to their inquiry, and would have said, “Did we suspect that? Did we come to ask that?” But as men caught and exposed, they move on to another question and say, “What then? Are you Elijah?” And he says, “I am not.” For they expected that he too would come, as Christ also says. For when the disciples asked, “How then do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” he said, “Elijah does come …” [Then they ask,] “Are you the prophet?” And he answered, “No.” And yet he was a prophet. Why then does he deny it? Again looking to the intention of those asking. For they expected some special prophet to come, because Moses said, “The Lord God will raise up for you a prophet from among your brothers, like me; you shall listen to him.” And this was the Christ. That is why they do not say, “Are you a prophet?”, hinting at one of the many, but with the article, “Are you the prophet?”, that is, the one proclaimed beforehand by Moses. That is why he too denied, not that he was a prophet, but that he was that prophet. “Then they said to him, ‘Who are you? Let us give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’” Do you see them pressing harder, urging and asking again and not letting go, and him gently first removing the suspicions that were false, and then laying down the one that was true? “I am,” he says, “the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as Isaiah the prophet said.” For since he had said something great and lofty about Christ, as against their suspicion, he took refuge at once in the prophet, making his word credible from that source as well. “Now those sent were from the Pharisees,” it says, “and they asked him and said to him, ‘Why then do you baptize, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?’” Do you see that I did not say in vain that they wanted to lead him into this? At first they did not say it, so as not to be detected by everyone. Then, when he said, “I am not the Christ,” [wishing to hide what they were scheming,] they move on to Elijah and the prophet. But when he said he was not one of those either, at a loss at last, they throw off the mask and show their treacherous intention with bare face, saying, “Why then do you baptize, if you are not the Christ?” Then again, wishing to cover it over, they add the others, Elijah, I mean, and the prophet. For since they could not trip him up by flattery, they expected to be able to force him by an accusation to say what was not so; but they could not. What folly! What arrogance and untimely meddling! You were sent to learn from him who he was and where he came from; are you also laying down laws for him? For this again was the part of men forcing him to confess himself the Christ. Still, not even now is he indignant, nor does he say to them anything of the kind one might expect, “Are you giving me orders and making laws for me?” but again he shows great gentleness. “I baptize with water,” he says, “but among you stands one whom you do not know. He it is who comes after me, who ranks before me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.”

What can the Jews say to this from here on? For here too the charge against them is inescapable, the condemnation without excuse: they cast the vote against themselves. How, and in what way? They thought John trustworthy, and so truthful as to be believed not only when testifying about others but even when speaking about himself. For unless they had been so disposed, they would not have sent to learn from him about himself. For you know that we believe people speaking about themselves only when we consider them more truthful than anyone. And it is not only this that stops their mouths, but also the attitude with which they came to him. For they went out to him with great eagerness, even if they changed afterwards. Christ showed both when he said, “He was the burning lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light.” And his answer too made him all the more trustworthy. For “he who does not seek his own glory,” it says, “is true, and there is no unrighteousness in him.” This man did not seek it, but refers them to another. And those sent were among the men they trusted and who held the first places, so that they would have no refuge anywhere and no excuse for the unbelief with which they disbelieved Christ. For why did you not receive what John said about him? You sent those who held the first places; you asked through them; you heard what the Baptist answered. They showed every curiosity [and asked about everyone they suspected he might be]; and yet with great boldness he confessed that he was neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet. And he did not stop there, but also taught who he was, and spoke about the nature of his own baptism, that it was small and humble and had nothing more than water, showing the superiority of the baptism given by Christ. And he brought forward Isaiah the prophet, testifying from of old, long before, calling the one Lord and naming the other his servant and attendant. What more was needed? Was it not to believe the one testified to, and worship him, and confess him God? For that the testimony was not of flattery but of truth was shown by the character and the philosophy of the one who testified. And this is clear also from the fact that no one sets his neighbor before himself or, when he could grant himself an honor, is willing to yield it to another, and that an honor so great. So John would not have given up this testimony to Christ unless Christ were God. For even if he declined it for himself as greater than his own nature, he would not have assigned it in turn to another nature lower than his. “But among you stands one whom you do not know.” He said this because it was likely that Christ mingled with the people as one of the many, since everywhere he taught freedom from pride and boasting. By “knowing” he means here exact knowledge: who he is and where he comes from. And he constantly puts “he who comes after me,” all but saying: do not think everything rests in my baptism. If it were perfect, another would not have come after me to provide another; this is a preparation for that one and a paving of the way. Ours is a shadow and an image; another must come who will bring the truth. So this very “coming after me” especially shows his dignity. For if this were perfect, there would be no call for a second. “Ranks before me,” that is, more honored, more glorious. Then, so that they would not think the superiority was a matter of comparison, wishing to show that it was beyond comparison, he added, “the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie”; that is, he has not simply ranked before me, but so far that I am not worthy to be counted even among the lowest of his servants; for to untie a sandal is the work of the lowest service. But if John is not worthy to untie the strap, John, than whom none greater has arisen among those born of women, where shall we place ourselves? If he who weighed as much as the whole world, or rather more (“for the world was not worthy of them,” it says), says he is not worthy to be counted even among the lowest of those who served, what shall we say, we who are full of countless evils, who fall as far short of John’s virtue as the earth falls short of heaven?

He, then, says he is not worthy even to untie the strap of the sandal. But the enemies of the truth have reached such a pitch of madness as to say that they are worthy to know him as he knows himself. What is worse than this derangement? What is more insane than this arrogance? A wise man said well, “The beginning of pride is not to know the Lord.” The devil would not have been cast down and become a devil, not being a devil before, had he not fallen sick with this disease. This cast him out of that confidence; this sent him to Gehenna; this became the cause of all his evils. For by itself it is enough to destroy every virtue of the soul, whether it finds almsgiving, or prayer, or fasting, or anything at all. For “what is exalted among men,” it says, “is unclean before the Lord.” So it is not only sexual immorality and adultery that usually defile those who practice them, but pride as well, and far more than those. Why? Because sexual immorality, though an inexcusable evil, can still plead desire; but arrogance could not find any cause or any pretext whatever by which it might obtain even a shadow of pardon. It is nothing else than a perversion of the soul and a most grievous disease, born from no other source than folly. For nothing is more foolish than an arrogant man, even if he is clothed in wealth, even if he possesses much of the wisdom from outside, even if he is set in power, even if he carries about with him everything that seems enviable among men. For if the one who is arrogant over things truly good is wretched and miserable and loses the reward of all of them, the one who is elated over things that are nothing, and puffs himself up over the shadow and the flower of grass (for that is what present glory is), how would he not be the most ridiculous of all? He does the same as a poor beggar might do who wastes away with hunger all his life, and if he happens one night to see a pleasant dream, is elated because of it. Wretched and miserable man, while your soul is being destroyed by a most grievous disease and you are poor with the uttermost poverty, are you proud because you have so many and so many talents of gold? Because you have a crowd of slaves? But these things are not yours. And if you are not persuaded by my words, learn from the experience of those who went before. And if you are so drunk as not to be taught this by what happens to others, wait a little, and you will know from what happens to you that these things are of no use to you, when you are gasping out your life and are not master of a single hour or a brief moment. Against your will you will leave them to those who are present, and often to those you would not want. For many were not even allowed to give instructions about them, but departed all at once, wishing to enjoy them but not permitted, dragged away and yielding them to those they did not want. So that we may not suffer this, let us now, while we are strong and healthy, send them on ahead to our own city. For thus only shall we be able to enjoy them, and in no other way; thus we shall lay them up in an inviolable and safe place. For there is nothing there, nothing at all, that can take them away: there is no death, there are no wills, no heirs to estates, no false accusations and plots; but the one who departs from here carrying much can enjoy it for ever. Who then is so wretched as not to wish to enjoy his own wealth for good? Let us then carry over our wealth and move it there. We shall not need asses and camels and carts, or ships, for such a move; for God has freed us from this difficulty too. We need only the poor, the lame, the maimed, the sick. They have been entrusted with such a move; they send the money on to heaven; they bring the owners of such money into the inheritance of the eternal goods. May we all obtain it, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.