Homilies on John 18.1–18.4

[Homily 18.] “The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples. And looking at Jesus as he walked, he says, ‘Look, the Lamb of God.’ And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed him.” Human nature is somehow sluggish and quick to slide toward ruin, not because of the way nature was made, but because of a sluggishness that comes from choice; that is why it needs much reminding. Paul too said for this reason, writing to the Philippians, “To write the same things to you is not tiresome for me, and it is safe for you.” The earth, once it has received the seed, at once gives back its fruits and does not need a second sowing; but with our soul it is not so: one must be content, after sowing many times and showing great care, to be able to enjoy the fruit even once. For first, what is said settles into the mind with difficulty, because great hardness lies beneath, and it is choked with countless thorns, and there are many who lie in wait and snatch away the seeds. Then, when it has set and taken root, it needs the same zeal again, so that it may come to maturity and, having come, stay unharmed and suffer no damage from anyone. For with seeds, when the ear is fully formed and has gained its own strength, it easily scorns blight and drought and everything else; but with teachings it is not so: even after the whole work has been perfectly done, often a single storm and flood comes upon it, as difficulties strike, and men skilled in deceiving lay their plots, and various other temptations are brought against it, and it does damage. We have not said this without purpose, but so that when you hear John saying the same things, you may not accuse him of idle chatter, nor think him superfluous and tiresome. He wished, having spoken once, to be heard; but since not many paid attention to what was said from the beginning, because of their deep sleep, he rouses them again with a second call. Consider: he had said, “He who comes after me ranks before me,” and, “I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal,” and, “He baptizes with the Holy Spirit and with fire,” and that he had seen the Spirit descending like a dove and remaining on him, and he testified that this is the Son of God. No one paid attention or asked or said, “Why do you say these things? And on whose behalf? And for what reason?” He said again, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” Not even so did he lay hold of their insensibility. That is why he is then compelled to say the same things again, softening them by plowing, as one softens some hard and unyielding ground, and with his word as with a plow stirring up their hardened mind, so as to put the seeds down deep. For this reason too he does not make his discourse long, because he was eager for one thing only, to bring them and join them to Christ. For he knew that once they had received him and been persuaded, they would no longer need anyone to testify to him; and this is what happened. For if the Samaritans, after hearing him, say to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe; for we ourselves know that this is truly the Savior of the world, the Christ,” much more would the disciples be won over quickly; and that is what happened. For having come and heard him for one evening, they no longer returned to John, but were so nailed to him that they took up John’s ministry and themselves proclaimed him. For this man “finds his own brother Simon and says, ‘We have found the Messiah,’ which is translated, the Christ.” And notice this too, I beg you: when he said, “He who comes after me ranks before me,” and, “I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal,” he won no one; but when he spoke about the dispensation and brought his discourse down to humbler things, then the disciples followed. And one may observe not only this, but also that the many are not so much drawn when something great and lofty is said about God as when something kind and loving, something that bears on the salvation of the hearers, is said. They heard, at any rate, that he takes away the sin of the world, and they ran to him at once. For if it is possible to wash away our charges, why, they say, do we put it off? Here is one who will set us free without labor; how then is it not the height of folly to defer the gift? Let the catechumens listen, who put off their own salvation to their last breath. “Again John was standing,” it says, “and says, ‘Look, the Lamb of God.’” Christ says nothing; John does everything. So it happens with a bridegroom too. He says nothing to the bride for a time, but is present in silence; others point him out, and others hand over the bride; she only appears, and he does not go away having taken her on his own, but when another has given her away. But when he has received her thus given, he so disposes her that she no longer remembers those who betrothed her. This happened with Christ too. He came to take the church as his bride; he said nothing himself, but only came. His friend John put the bride’s right hand in his, handing over to him by his words the souls of men. Having received them, he then so disposed them that they no longer went back to the one who had handed them over.

And not only this, but one may observe something else here as well. Just as at weddings the maiden does not go to the bridegroom, but he hurries to her, even if he is a king’s son and is about to marry some humble girl [or even a servant], so it happened here too. Human nature did not go up to heaven, but he came down to this despised and humble nature; and when the marriage had taken place, he did not let her stay here any longer, but took her and brought her up to his Father’s house. But why does John not take his disciples aside privately and speak to them about these things, and so give them to Christ, but says to them publicly with everyone, “Look, the Lamb of God”? So that the deed would not seem to be contrived. For if they had gone away after being urged by him privately, and as if doing him a favor, they would perhaps have soon leapt away again too; but as it was, having accepted following him from a teaching given to all, they then remained firm disciples, since they had followed not as a favor to their teacher, but sincerely, looking to their own gain. The prophets and the apostles all proclaimed him absent, the one before his coming in the flesh, the other after his ascension; John alone proclaimed him present. That is why he calls himself the friend of the bridegroom, since he alone was present at the wedding. For he did and accomplished everything; he gave the matter its beginning. “And looking at [Jesus as he walked, he says, ‘Look, the Lamb] of God.’” He said this showing that he testified not with his voice only but also with his eyes; for he admired Christ, rejoicing and exulting. And for the time he does not make his discourse one of exhortation, but only admires and marvels at the one present; and he makes known to them all the gift for which he came, and the manner of the cleansing. For “the lamb” indicates both. And he did not say, “who will take away,” or “who took away,” but, “who takes away the sins of the world,” since he always does this. For he did not take them away only when he suffered; from then until now he takes away sins, not always being crucified (for he offered one sacrifice for sins), but always cleansing through that one sacrifice. As then “the Word” shows us his uniqueness, and “the Son” makes plain his difference from the others, so too “the Lamb,” and “the Christ,” and “the Prophet,” and “the true Light,” and “the good Shepherd,” and whatever is said of him with the addition of the article shows a great distinction. For there were many lambs, and prophets, and christs, and sons; but he sets him apart from all of them by a great distance. And he secured this not only by the article, but also by adding “Only-begotten.” For he has nothing in common with creation. And if it seems to anyone untimely that these things were said at the tenth hour (for that was then the time of day: “It was about the tenth hour,” it says), such a person seems to me greatly mistaken. With most people, who are slaves to the flesh, the time after a meal is naturally not very suitable for anything important, because the heart is weighed down with food; but here was a man who did not even share in ordinary food, but spent even the evening with as much sobriety as we do at dawn, or rather with much more (for with us the remains of the evening meal left behind often trouble the soul, while he weighed down his vessel with none of these things); so he naturally spoke of such things even late in the afternoon. Moreover, he was staying in the desert by the Jordan, where all came to the baptism with great trembling, caring little at that time for the affairs of life; for they even stayed with Christ three days and had nothing to eat. For this is the part of an earnest herald and a careful farmer, not to leave before he sees the planted word take hold. But why did he not go around all Judea proclaiming him, but stood by the river, waiting for him to come and to point him out when he came? Because he wanted that to be accomplished through the works. What he was eager for in the meantime was only to make him known and to persuade some to hear about eternal life. The greater testimony, the one through the works, he leaves to him, as he himself says: “I do not receive testimony from man; for the works which the Father has given me, these are what testify about me.” See, at any rate, how much more effective this was. For when he had thrown in a small spark, all at once the fire rose on high. For those who before this paid no attention to what was said afterwards say, “Everything John said was true.” Besides, if he had said these things going about, what was done would have seemed to come from some human eagerness, and the preaching would have been full of suspicion. “And his two disciples heard him, and followed him.” And yet he had other disciples too, but they not only did not follow but were even jealously disposed toward Jesus. For “Rabbi,” they say, “he who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you have testified, look, he is baptizing, and all are coming to him.” And again they appear making an accusation: “Why do we fast, and your disciples do not fast?” But those who were better than the others felt nothing of the kind; at the same moment they heard and followed. And they followed, not as despising their teacher, but as persuaded by him above all, and giving the greatest proof that they did this by right judgment of their reasoning. For they did not do it because they were urged, which would have been suspect; but when he only foretold what was to come, that he would baptize with the Holy Spirit, they followed him. So they did not leave their teacher, but wanted to learn what more he brought than John. And see their eagerness joined with modesty. For they did not go up at once and question Jesus about necessary and very great matters, nor publicly with everyone present, simply and at random, but they were eager to speak with him privately. For they knew that their teacher’s words came not from humility but from truth. “One of the two who heard John and followed him,” it says, “was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother.” Why then did he not make known the name of the other too? Some say because the one who followed was the writer himself; others not so, but that he was not one of the distinguished ones. So it was not necessary to say more than was needed. For what benefit is there in learning his name, when he does not give even the names of the seventy-two? One may see this in Paul as well: “For with him,” he says, “we have sent the brother whose praise is in the gospel.” He mentions Andrew for another reason too. What is it? So that when you hear that Simon, hearing along with him, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men,” was not perplexed at this strange promise, you may learn that his brother had already laid the foundations of faith in him. “And Jesus turned and saw them [following, and says to them, ‘What are you seeking?’”] From this we are taught that God does not anticipate our wills with his gifts; but when we begin, when we supply the willing, then he too gives us many occasions of salvation. “What are you seeking?” What is this? He who knows the hearts of men, who enters into our thoughts, asks? Yes, but not in order to learn (how could he?), but so as by the question to make them more his own, and give them more freedom, and show that they are worthy to hear him. For they were likely to blush and be afraid, since they were strangers and had heard their teacher testify such things about him. So, removing all this, the shame and the fear, he asks, and did not let them come all the way to the house in silence. And yet the same would have happened even if he had not asked; for they would have kept following him, and walking at his heels they would have reached the house. Why then does he ask? To bring about what I said, calming their mind, which was blushing and still anxious, and giving them confidence. And they showed their longing not only by following but by their question too. For though they had not yet learned or heard anything from him, they call him teacher, thrusting themselves among his disciples and showing the reason for which they followed, as men who would hear something useful. And see their good sense too. They did not say, “Teach us about doctrines, or about some other necessary thing”; but what? “Where are you staying?” For, as I said before, they wanted to say something to him in quiet, and to hear something from him, and to learn. That is why they did not put it off, nor say, “We will come tomorrow without fail and hear you speaking in public,” but showed the great eagerness they had for hearing by not being turned back even by the hour. For the sun happened by then to be toward its setting: “It was about the tenth hour,” it says. That is why Christ too does not tell them the marks of the house or the place, but draws them on more to follow him, showing that he had received them. And that is why he did not say anything like, “It is an unsuitable time now for you to come into the house; you will hear tomorrow whatever you wish; go home now”; but he speaks to them as to friends who had long been with him. How then does he say elsewhere, “But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head,” but here says, “Come and see where I am staying”? Because “has nowhere to lay his head” shows that he had no lodging of his own, not that he did not stay in a house; and the comparison means this. Now the evangelist said that they stayed with him that day; but why, he did not add, since the reason is plain. For neither did they follow him, nor did Christ draw them, for any other reason than the teaching. And they enjoyed it so abundantly and so eagerly, even in one night, that at once they went off [to hunt] others as well. Let us then also learn from this to treat everything as secondary to hearing the divine word, and not to think any time untimely; but even if one must go into another person’s house, even if one must, as a stranger, make oneself known to great men, even if it is late in the day, at whatever time, never to neglect this trade. Food, then, and baths and dinners and the other things of life should have their fixed time; but teaching about the philosophy from above should have no set hour, but every time should be its time. For “in season, out of season,” it says, “reprove, rebuke, exhort.” And the prophet says, “In his law he will meditate day and night”; and Moses commanded the Jews to do this always. For the things of [ordinary] life, baths I mean and dinners, though necessary, still, when done constantly, make the body feeble; but the teaching of the soul, the more it is extended, the stronger it makes the soul that receives it. But now we set apart every time for trifles and useless chatter, and we sit together idly in the morning, and in the afternoon, and at midday, and in the evening itself, and we have assigned places for this; but when we hear the divine teachings once or twice a week, we are nauseated, we are glutted. What then is the cause? Our soul is in a bad condition. Its whole power of desire and appetite is turned toward those things. That is why it is not strong enough to have an appetite for spiritual food. And this too, along with the others, is a great sign of weakness: not to hunger or thirst, but to be disgusted with both. And if this happening in bodies is a sign of a grievous disease and productive of weakness, much more so in the soul. How then, someone says, [shall we raise it up when it has fallen back, doing what] and saying what? By laying hold of the divine words, prophetic, apostolic, evangelical, and all the others. For then we shall know that it is much better to feed on these than on unclean foods; for that is what untimely chatter and gatherings must be called. For what is better, tell me: to talk about what goes on in the marketplace, about what goes on in the law courts, about what goes on in the army, or about the things in heaven and about what comes after our departure from here? What is better: to chatter about our neighbor and our neighbor’s affairs and to busy ourselves with other people’s business, or to search into the things of angels and the things that concern ourselves? For your neighbor’s affairs are not yours at all; but the things of heaven are yours. But one can, someone says, by saying these things once, complete the whole subject. Why do you not think this about the things you talk of idly and at random, but spending your whole life on them, you have never exhausted the subject of them? And I do not yet mention things much more vulgar than these. For the more decent talk about these things with one another; but [the more careless] carry dancers and charioteers about in their conversation, defiling their hearing, corrupting their soul, maddening their nature with these stories, bringing every form of wickedness into their own mind through this talk. For as soon as the tongue has uttered the dancer’s name, at once the soul pictures his face, his hair, his soft clothing, and the man himself softer than these. Another again fans the flame from another side, bringing a prostitute into the conversation, and her words, her postures, the rolling of her eyes, the languor of her look, the twisting of her hair, the paint on her cheeks, the lines under her eyes. Did you not feel something even while I was describing these things? But do not be ashamed or blush; for the necessity of nature demands this, and disposes the soul according to the power of the things described. And if, when I am the one speaking, when you are standing in church, when you are far from those things, you felt something at the hearing, consider how those are likely to be disposed who sit in the theater itself, who have great license, who are outside this solemn and awesome assembly, who see and hear those things with great shamelessness. And why then, perhaps someone of those who pay no attention might say, if the necessity of nature so disposes the soul, do you let it go and accuse us? Because to be softened on hearing such things is the work of nature; but to listen to such things is no longer of nature but a sin of choice. For one who handles fire must be burned, and the weakness of nature makes it so; but nature does not lead us to the fire and the destruction that comes from it; that would be the perversity of choice alone. This then I ask you to remove and correct, so that you do not willingly throw yourselves down a precipice, nor push yourselves into the pits of wickedness, nor run of your own accord into the blaze, so that we may not also make ourselves liable to the flame prepared for the devil. May we all, delivered from both this fire and that one, come to the very bosom of Abraham, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, to the ages of ages. Amen.