Homilies on John 21.1–21.3

[Homily 21.] “‘You are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.’ Jesus answered and said to him, ‘Because I said to you, “I saw you under the fig tree,” do you believe? You will see greater things than these.’” We need much care, beloved, much wakefulness, to be able to look into the depth of the divine Scriptures. For it is not possible to find their meaning carelessly or while asleep; but there is need of exact searching, and need too of earnest prayer, so that we may be able to see a little way into the sanctuary of the divine oracles. For look, today too no small question lies before us, but one that needs much zeal and searching. For when Nathanael said, “You are the Son of God,” Christ says, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these.” What then is the question in these words? That Peter, confessing after so many miracles and such teaching, “You are the Son of God,” is called blessed, as having received the revelation from the Father; but Nathanael, saying this very thing before the signs and before the teaching, heard nothing of the kind, but, as if he had said nothing so great as he ought to have said, is led on to greater things. What then is the reason? That Peter and Nathanael uttered the same words, but not each with the same mind. Peter confessed him Son of God as true God; Nathanael as a mere man. And how is this clear to us? From what was said afterwards. For after saying, “You are the Son of God,” he added, “You are the King of Israel.” But the Son of God is king not of Israel only but of the whole world. And this is clear not only from this but also from what follows. For to Peter Christ added nothing afterwards, but, as if his faith were complete, said that he would build the church on his confession. Here he did nothing of the kind, but rather the opposite. For as if something large, and the better part, were lacking to the confession, he added the rest. For what does he say? “Truly, truly I say to you, from now on you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” Do you see how he leads him up from the earth little by little, and no longer to imagine him simply a man? For one whom angels serve, and on whom angels ascend and descend, how could he be a man? That is why he said, “You will see greater things than these”; and to show this, he brought in the service of the angels. What he says is something like this: “This seemed great to you, Nathanael, and for this you confessed me King of Israel. What then will you say when you see the angels ascending and descending on me?” By this he persuades him to confess him Master of the angels too. For as upon a true-born king’s son, so the royal attendants went up and came down: at the time of the cross, and at the time of the resurrection and the ascension, and before that too, when they came and served him, when they announced the good news of his birth, when they cried, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace,” when they came to Mary, when they came to Joseph. What he did in many cases he does now too. He makes two predictions; of one he already gives the proof, and the future one he confirms from the present. For of the things said, some had received their proof, such as, “Before Philip called you, under the fig tree I saw you”; others were going to come about, and in part did come about: the descent and ascent of the angels at the cross, at the resurrection, and at the ascension. And he makes this too credible, even before it happens, by what had been said. For one who had come to know his power in what was past, and hears about the future, would more easily accept this prediction too. What then did Nathanael do? He answers nothing to this. That is why Christ too ended his conversation with him at this point, allowing him to reason out privately what had been said, and not wishing [to pour out everything at once; having sown the] seeds, he then leaves it to sprout at leisure. He showed this elsewhere too, when he said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed; and while he was sleeping, the enemy comes and sows weeds among the wheat.” “On the third day there was a wedding at Cana of Galilee, and Jesus was invited to the wedding. And the mother of Jesus was there, and his brothers.” I said before that he was better known in Galilee; that is why they invite him to the wedding, and he comes. For he did not look to his own dignity, but to our benefit. He who did not disdain to take the form of a servant would much less disdain to come to the wedding of servants; he who reclined at table with tax collectors and sinners would much less refuse to recline with those at the wedding. Yet those who invited him did not have the proper judgment about him, nor did they invite him as someone great, but simply as one of the many and as an acquaintance. And the evangelist hinted at this when he said, “And the mother of Jesus was there, and his brothers.” As they invited her and the brothers, so they invited Jesus. “They have no wine.” Here it is worth asking how it came to his mother to imagine something great about her son. For he had not yet done any sign: “This,” it says, “Jesus did as the beginning of the signs, in Cana of Galilee.” And if someone should say that this is not sufficient proof that this was the beginning of the signs, because “in Cana of Galilee” is simply added, as if it allowed it to have been the first there, but not necessarily the first of all (for he probably did others elsewhere), we will tell him what we said before. What is that? What John says: “And I did not know him; but so that he might be revealed to Israel” [I came baptizing. For if he had worked wonders from] his earliest age, the Israelites would not have needed another to reveal him. For he who came among men and so became known by his miracles, not only to those in Judea but also to those in Syria and beyond, and did these things in three years only, or rather did not even need those three to show himself (for at once, from the first, his fame went out everywhere), he, then, who in a short time so shone out through the multitude of his miracles that his name became evident to all, would much less have stayed hidden so long if he had worked wonders as a child from his earliest age. For what was done would have seemed more astonishing, being done by a boy, and the time would have been double and triple and much more. But in fact he did nothing as a child, except this one thing that Luke testified to, that at twelve years old he sat listening to the teachers and by his questioning was thought wonderful. And besides, it was natural and reasonable that he did not begin the signs at once from his earliest age; for they would have thought the thing an illusion. For if many suspected this when he had come of age, much more, if he had worked wonders when quite a boy, would they have rushed him to the cross sooner and before the proper time, wasting away with envy; and the very facts of the dispensation would have been disbelieved. How then, someone says, did it come to his mother to imagine something great about him? He was by then beginning to be revealed, and was made plain by John and by what he had said to the disciples; and before all these, the conception itself and everything that happened after the birth had given her the greatest idea about the child. For she heard, it says, everything about the child, and kept it in her heart. Why then, someone says, did she not say these things before? Because, as I said, it was then that he was at last beginning to be manifested. Before this he lived as one of the many; that is why his mother did not dare say any such thing to him. But when she heard that John had come because of him, and that he had testified to him what he testified, and that he had disciples, then at last she takes courage and appeals to him, and when the wine ran short, she says, “They have no wine.” For she wanted to do them a favor, and to make herself more distinguished through her son. And perhaps she also felt something human, as his brothers did when they said, “Show yourself to the world,” wishing to reap the glory of the miracles. That is why he answered rather sharply, saying, “What have I to do with you, woman? My hour has not yet come.” For that he greatly respected his mother, hear Luke telling how he was subject to his parents, and this very evangelist showing how he took thought for her even at the very time of the cross. For where parents do not hinder or interrupt anything of the things of God, it is necessary and a duty to yield, and not to do so is a great danger; but when they ask something untimely and interrupt something spiritual, it is not safe to obey. That is why he answered thus here, and again elsewhere, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” For they did not yet have the opinion about him that they should; but since she had borne him, she thought she could give him orders in everything, according to the custom of other mothers, when she ought to have revered and worshiped him as Master. That is why he answered thus then. For consider what it was, when all the people and the crowd stood around him, and the multitude hung on his words, and the teaching had been set forth, for her to come into the middle and draw him away from his exhortation and talk with him privately, and not even bear to come inside, but to pull him outside, to herself alone. That is why he said, “Who is my mother, and my brothers?” Not insulting the one who had borne him (far from it!), but helping her in the greatest way and not letting her think humbly of him. For if he cared for the others and did everything to put into them the proper opinion about himself, much more in his mother’s case. For since it was likely that, even hearing it from her son, she would not wish to be persuaded even so, but would claim the first place everywhere, since she was his mother, he answered thus to those who spoke. For he could not otherwise have led her up from this lowly view to that height, if she expected always to be honored as by a son, and not that he would come as Master. Here too, then, he said for this reason, “What have I to do with you, woman?” And for another necessary reason, no less. What was it? So that the miracles done would not be suspected. For he ought to be appealed to by those in need, not by his mother. Why? Because what is done at the appeal of one’s own family, even if it is great, often offends those who see it; but when those in need themselves make the request, the miracle is free of suspicion, and the praise is pure, and the benefit great.

For if an excellent physician, entering a house where many are sick, should hear nothing from the patients or their relatives, but should be called in by his own mother alone, he will be suspect to the sick and offensive, and no one, either of those lying ill or of those standing by them, will think him able [to show] anything great and noble. That is why he rebuked her then, saying, “What have I to do with you, woman?” teaching her not to do such things in future. For he cared about honoring his mother, but much more about the salvation of her soul and about benefiting the many, for whose sake he also put on the flesh. So these words were not those of one speaking insolently to his mother, but of a great dispensation, bringing her into a right disposition and preparing for the miracles to take place with the dignity proper to them. For that he greatly honored her, this very thing that seems to have been said by way of rebuke is especially able to show, apart from everything else. For by being displeased he showed that he greatly respected her. How and in what way, we shall say next time. With this in mind, then, when you hear a woman saying, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts you sucked,” and him answering, “Blessed rather are those who do the will of my Father,” consider that those words too were spoken with the same intention. For the answer was not that of one pushing his mother away, but of one showing that her childbearing would have done her no good unless she had been truly good and faithful. And if giving birth to Christ did Mary no good without virtue of soul, much less will it be able to help us if we have a father, or a brother, or a child who is virtuous and noble, while we ourselves are far from his virtue. “A brother does not redeem,” says David; “will a man redeem?” For we must have our hopes of salvation in nothing else but only in our own good deeds, after the grace of God. For if this by itself was going to help the virgin, it would have helped the Jews too (for Christ was their kinsman according to the flesh); it would have helped the city in which he was born; it would have helped his brothers. But as it was, as long as his brothers did not care for themselves, the dignity of kinship did them no good, but they were condemned with the rest of the world; they were admired then, when they shone with their own virtue. But the city both fell and was burned, gaining nothing from this; and his kinsmen according to the flesh gained nothing toward being saved from their kinship with him, since they did not have the protection that comes from virtue. But the apostles appeared greater than all, because they pursued the true and enviable way of belonging to him, the way of obedience. From this, then, we learn that we need faith everywhere, and a shining and bright life. For this alone will be able to save us. For his relatives too were long admired everywhere, and were called the Lord’s kin (Desposynoi); yet we do not even know their names, while the life and names of the apostles are sung everywhere. Let us not, then, be proud of noble birth according to the flesh; but even if we have ten thousand wonderful ancestors, let us strive to surpass their virtues ourselves, knowing that we shall gain nothing from the zeal of others toward the coming judgment; rather, this will be a heavier condemnation. For though we have good fathers and the example at home, not even so do we imitate our teachers. I say this now because I see many Greeks, when we lead them to the faith and urge them to become Christians, taking refuge in their relatives and ancestors and household and saying, “All my relatives and friends and housemates are faithful Christians.” What is that to you, wretched and miserable man? This will ruin you most of all, that you did not even respect the number of those who live with you and run to the truth. Again, some others, who are believers but whose lives are neglected, when urged toward virtue, put forward this very same thing, saying, “My father and my grandfather and my great-grandfather were very devout and earnest men.” But this is what will condemn you most, that being descended from such men you have acted unworthily of your own root. For hear what the prophet says to the Jews: “Israel served for a wife, and for a wife he kept watch”; and again Christ: “Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it and was glad.” And everywhere they bring forward the good deeds of their ancestors not only as praise but also as a heavier ground of accusation. Knowing this, then, let us too do everything so as to be able to be saved by our own works, so that we may not, having deceived ourselves in vain with hopes placed in others, learn that we were deceived in vain only at the time when this knowledge [can no longer help us] …