Homilies on John 22.1–22.3

[Homily 22.] “What have I to do with you, woman? My hour has not yet come.” Speaking involves some labor; Paul shows this when he said, “Let the presbyters who rule well [be counted worthy of double honor, especially] those who labor in word and teaching.” But you have it in your power to make this labor light or heavy. For if you spit out what is said, or, without spitting it out, do not show it in your deeds, the toil will be heavy for us, because we labor at random and in vain; but if you pay attention and give the proof in your deeds, we shall not even notice the sweat. For the fruit born of the labors will not let the severity of the labor appear. So if you want to rouse our eagerness and not quench it or make it weaker, show us the fruit, I beg you, so that, seeing the crops in full ear and being fed by hopes of plenty and reckoning up our wealth, we may not grow numb in carrying on this fine trade. For no small question lies before us today too. For when the mother of Jesus said, “They have no wine,” Christ says, “What have I to do with you, woman? My hour has not yet come”; and having said this, he did what his mother said. This is no less a matter for inquiry than the former. Let us then call on him who worked the miracle, and so come to the solution. For this is not said here only, but further on the same evangelist is seen saying, “They could not [seize] him, because his hour had not yet come”; and again, “No one laid hands on him, because his hour had not yet come”; and again, “The hour has come; glorify your Son.” I have gathered here all these things said throughout the Gospel, so as to bring one solution to them all. What then is the solution of these sayings? Christ did not say, “My hour has not yet come,” as being subject to the necessity of seasons or to the observance of an hour (how could he be, the maker of seasons and the creator of the times and the ages?), but by these words he wants to show this, that he works everything at the fitting time, not doing everything at once. For confusion and disorder would have resulted, if he did not create each thing at its fitting time, but mixed everything together, birth and resurrection and judgment. Consider: creation had to come about, but not all at once; and man with the woman, but not even these at once. The human race had to be condemned to death, and the resurrection to take place, but there is a long interval between the two. The law had to be given, but not grace at the same time, but …

[The following passage, down to “Amen,” is the end of Homily 21, displaced in the scan:] … [will be of] no use. “For in Hades,” it says, “who will confess you?” Let us therefore repent here, [so as] to obtain the eternal good things, which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory and might to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, to the ages of ages. Amen.

[Homily 22 continues:] … each thing to be dispensed at its fitting time. [So] Christ [was not] subject to the necessity of seasons, he who above all set the seasons in order, since he is their maker. But John here brings in Christ saying, “My hour has not yet come,” showing that he was not yet known to the many, and that he did not yet have his whole band of disciples; Andrew followed him, and with him Philip, but no one else. Or rather, not even all these knew him as they should, not even his mother, nor his brothers. For after the many miracles the evangelist said this about the brothers: “For not even his brothers believed in him.” Nor did those at the wedding know him; for otherwise they would themselves have come to him and asked, being in need. That is why he says, “My hour has not yet come”: I am not yet [known] to those present; indeed they do not even know that the wine has run short. Let them notice this first. I ought not to hear these things from you. You are my mother, and you make the miracle suspect. Those in need should have come and asked; not because I need this, but so that they might receive what is done with full assent. For one who knows he is in need, when he obtains what he asks, is very grateful; but one who has no sense of his need will not have a clear sense of the benefit either. And why, someone says, having said, “My hour has not yet come,” and having declined, did he do what his mother said? Above all, so that those who object and think him subject to an hour might have a sufficient proof that he is not subject to an hour. For if he were, how could he have done what he did when the fitting hour had not come? And then also to honor his mother, so that he would not seem to contradict her altogether, so as not to get a reputation for weakness, so as not to shame the one who bore him with so many present; for she had brought the servants to him. For to the Canaanite woman too, saying, “It is not good to take the children’s bread and give it to the little dogs,” he gave after saying it, respecting her perseverance. And yet after that he said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel”; but even after saying this he healed the woman’s little daughter.

From this we learn that even if we are unworthy, we often make ourselves worthy to receive by perseverance. That is why his mother too stayed by, and wisely brought the servants, so that the request would be made by more people. That is why she also added, “Whatever he says to you, do it.” For she knew that the refusal came not from weakness but from freedom from boasting, and from not wishing to seem to throw himself into the miracle without reason; that is why she brought the servants. “Now there were six stone water jars standing there, for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding two or three measures. Jesus says to them, ‘Fill the jars with water.’ And they filled them to the brim.” He did not say “for the Jewish rites of purification” without purpose, but so that none of the unbelievers might [suspect that dregs had been left in the jars, and that water poured on them made a very watery wine]. That is why he says, “for the Jewish rites of purification,” showing that those vessels had never been containers of wine. For since Palestine is waterless, and springs and fountains were not to be found in many places, they always filled jars with water, so as not to run to rivers whenever they became unclean, but to have the means of purification close at hand. And why did he not do the sign before they filled them, which would have been much more wonderful? For it is one thing to change underlying matter into a different quality, and another to make the substance itself out of nothing; the latter is more wonderful. But it would not have seemed so credible to the many. That is why he often deliberately cuts down the greatness of his miracles, so that they may be more easily accepted. And why, someone says, did he not produce the water himself and then show the wine, but ordered the servants? For the same reason again, and so as to have the men who drew it as witnesses of what happened, and that what was done was no illusion. For if some were going to be shameless, those who served could say to them, “We drew the water.” And besides what has been said, he overturns the teachings that spring up against the church. For since there are some who say that the creator of the world is another, and that what is seen is not his work but that of some other, opposing god, to muzzle their madness he does most of his miracles out of existing substances. For if the creator had been opposed to him, he would not have used what belonged to another to display his own power. As it is, showing that he is the one who changes the water in the vines and turns the rain into wine through the root, what takes a long time in the plant he did all at once at the wedding. When they had filled the jars, he says, “Draw some out now and take it to the master of the feast. And they took it. When the master of the feast tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), [the master of the feast calls the bridegroom and] says to him, ‘Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poorer; you have kept the good wine until now.’” Here again some scoff, saying, “It was a gathering of drunken men, and the senses of the judges were spoiled and not able to [taste] what was done or to judge what took place, so as not even to know whether what was made was water or wine; for that they were drunk, the master of the feast himself showed by what he said.” This is altogether laughable; but the evangelist removed even this suspicion of theirs. For he does not say that the guests were the ones giving the verdict about what was done, but the master of the feast [who was sober and had not yet tasted anything]. For you all surely know that those entrusted with serving such dinners are above all the sober ones, having one task, to arrange everything in good order and arrangement. That is why he called this sober sense to testify to what happened. For he did not say, “Pour wine for those reclining,” but, “Take it to the master of the feast.” “When the master of the feast tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants knew), the master of the feast calls the bridegroom.” And why did he not call the servants? For so the miracle would have been revealed. Because Jesus himself was not revealing what had happened, but wanted the power of his signs to become known quietly and little by little. If it had been proved then, the servants telling these things would not have been believed, but would have seemed mad, testifying such things about one who then seemed to most to be a mere man. For they themselves knew it clearly by experience (they were not going to distrust their own hands), but they were not able to convince others. That is why he did not reveal it to all, but to the one most able to understand what had happened, keeping the clearer knowledge of it for the future. For after the display of the other signs this too would be believable. When, at any rate, he later heals the official’s son, the evangelist shows by what he says there that this too had become clearer. For the official called him chiefly for this reason, because he had come to know of the sign, as I said. John made this plain when he said, “Jesus came to Cana of Galilee, where he had made the water wine”; and not simply wine, but the finest wine.

For such are the miracles of Christ: they turn out much finer and better than what is accomplished by nature. So too in the other cases: when he restored a lame member of the body, he showed it better than the healthy ones. That what was made was wine, then, and the finest wine, not only the servants but also the bridegroom and the master of the feast were going to testify; and that it was made by Christ, those who drew the water. So even if the miracle was not revealed then, it could not be kept silent in the end; so many necessary testimonies had he laid up for himself for the future. That he made the water wine, he had the servants as witnesses; that the wine became good, the master of the feast and the bridegroom. The bridegroom probably answered something to this and spoke; but the evangelist, hurrying on to the more necessary matters, touched only on this sign and ran past the rest. For what was necessary to learn was that he made the water wine, and good wine; what the bridegroom said to the master of the feast he did not think it necessary to add. For many of the signs, which were at first more obscure, became clearer as time went on, reported more exactly by those who knew them from the beginning. Then, then, Jesus made wine from water; and both then and now [he does not cease changing] our choices. For there are, there are people who differ in no way from water, so cold and slack and never standing firm. Let us bring those so disposed to the Lord, so that he may change their will into the quality of wine, so that they no longer run off, but have body, and become the cause of gladness to themselves and to others. And who would these cold people be, but those who give their attention to the flowing things of the present life, who do not laugh at the luxury here, who are lovers of glory and power? For all these are streams, standing still nowhere, but always borne down the slope with great force. For the one who is rich today is poor tomorrow; the one who today [appears] with herald and belt of office and carriage and many rod-bearers often lives in prison the next day, having yielded that show to another even against his will. Again, the one who lives in luxury and is torn apart, when he has burst his belly, cannot keep for even one day the supply that came to him from these things; but when that has been dispersed, he is forced to throw in more again, differing in nothing from a torrent. For as there, when the first stream has passed, others come on again, so too here, when the first food has gone, we need other food again. And such is the nature of the things of this life, whose lot is never to stand still, but always to flow and be swept along. But with luxury it is not only this, that it flows past and runs past, but it also brings us many other troubles. For in passing with force it scrapes away the strength of the body and sweeps away the manliness of the soul; and the violent currents of rivers do not so wear away their banks and make them collapse as luxury and wantonness easily undermine all the supports of our health. And if you go into a physician’s office and ask, you will find almost all the causes of diseases coming from there. For frugality and a simple table are the mother of health. That is why the sons of the physicians named it so, calling not being sated “health” (for “not to be sated with food is health”), and calling eating sparingly “the mother of health.” And if want is the mother of health, plainly fullness is the mother of disease and weakness, and produces sufferings that go beyond even the art of the physicians. For gout [in the feet, apoplexy, dimness of sight,] pains in the hands, and tremors, and paralyses, and jaundice, and long and burning fevers, and many more than these (for it is not the time to go through them all), are born not from want and a philosopher’s diet, but from gluttony and fullness. And if you are willing to see also the diseases of the soul that come from there, [greed,] sloth, licentiousness, ignorance of every kind have their beginning there. For from such tables luxurious souls become no better than asses, torn apart by such wild beasts. Shall I tell too how many pains and displeasures those have who wait on luxury? It is not possible to go through them all; but by one main point I will make the whole plain. They never taste such a table, I mean the costly one, with pleasure. For want is the mother of pleasure as of health, and fullness is the spring and root of displeasure as of disease. For where there is satiety, there cannot be desire; and without desire, how could there ever be pleasure? That is why we would find that the poor [are not only wiser and healthier than] the rich, but also reap more joy. Thinking over all this, then, let us flee drunkenness and luxury, not only at table but all the other kinds in the affairs of life; and in exchange for it let us take the pleasure of spiritual things, and, as the prophet says, [delight] in the Lord: [“Delight in the Lord,”] he says, “and he will give you the requests of your heart”; so that we may enjoy the good things both here and to come, 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, to the ages of ages. Amen.