Homilies on John 26.1–26.3

[Homily 26.] “What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.” The only-begotten Son of God has counted us worthy of great mysteries: great, and such as we were not worthy of, but such as it befitted him to give. For if one reckons our deserts, we were not only unworthy of the gift but also liable to punishment and penalty. But since he did not look to this, he not only freed us from punishment but also granted a life much more brilliant than the first; he brought us into another world, he created another creation: “If anyone is in Christ,” it says, “he is a new creation.” What new creation? Hear him say, “Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” We were entrusted with paradise, and we did not prove worthy even of living there, and he brought us up to heaven. In the first things we were not found faithful, and he entrusted greater things to us. We were not strong enough to keep from one tree, and he provided the delight above. We did not persevere in paradise, and he spread heaven open for us. Rightly did Paul say, “O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!” No longer a mother, no longer birth pangs, nor sleep, nor intercourse and embraces of bodies: from now on the fabric of our nature is woven above, from the Holy Spirit and water. And the water is taken up, becoming birth for the one being born. For what the womb is to the embryo, the water is to the believer; for in the water he is fashioned and formed. For at first it was said, “Let the waters bring forth creeping things with living souls”; but since the Master went down into the streams of the Jordan, the water no longer brings forth creeping things with living souls, but rational and Spirit-bearing souls. And what was said of the sun, “like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,” it would be more timely to say of the faithful; for they send out rays much brighter than his. But what is fashioned in the womb needs time; not so in the water, but everything happens in a single moment. For where life is perishable and has its beginning from bodily corruption, the birth is slow (for such is the nature of bodies: they acquire perfection with time); but with spiritual things it is not so. Why? Because what comes into being is formed perfect from the beginning. But since Nicodemus kept being troubled on hearing these things, see how he opens to him the secret of this mystery and makes clear what had been unclear to him until then, saying, “What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.” He leads him away from all things of sense, and does not let him pry into the initiation with these eyes. “For we are not speaking about flesh,” he says, “but about Spirit, Nicodemus.” For the time being he sent him upward by this saying. So seek nothing of the things of sense; for the Spirit could not appear to these eyes; and do not think that the Spirit gives birth to flesh. How then, someone might perhaps say, was the Lord’s flesh born? Not from the Spirit only, but also from flesh. That is why Paul too said, showing this, “born of a woman, born under the law.” For the Spirit fashioned him so, but not out of nothing (otherwise what need was there of the womb?), but out of the virgin’s flesh. How, I cannot explain. And this took place so that no one would think that what was born was foreign to our nature. For if, even though this happened, there are some who disbelieve such a birth, into what impiety would they not have fallen had he not shared in the virgin’s flesh? “What is born of the Spirit is spirit.” Do you see the dignity of the Spirit? For it is seen doing the work of God. Above he said that they were born of God; here, that the Spirit begets them. “What is born,” he says, “of the Spirit is spirit.” What he says is this: The one born of the Spirit is spiritual. For he speaks here of birth not according to essence, but according to honor and grace. If then the Son too was born in this way, what more will he have than human beings born in this way? And how is he only-begotten? For I too have been born of God, but not of his essence. If then he too is not of the essence, in what does he differ from us in this respect? And so he will be found inferior even to the Spirit, for such a birth comes from the grace of the Spirit. Does he then need the help of the Spirit in order to remain Son? And in what do these teachings differ from those of the Jews? Christ, then, having said that the one born of the Spirit is spirit, since he saw him troubled again, brings the discourse to an example from the senses: “Do not marvel,” he says, “that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it wills.” For by saying, “Do not marvel,” he shows the turmoil of his soul and leads him to something subtler than bodies. For he had led him away from fleshly things by saying, “What is born of the Spirit is spirit.” But since he did not know what it is that he means by “what is born of the Spirit is spirit,” he then transfers him to another image, neither bringing him to the density of bodies nor speaking purely of incorporeal things (for Nicodemus could not have taken that in on hearing it), but finding something between body and incorporeal, the movement of the wind, he leads him up from there. For of it he says, “You hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” And if he says, “It blows where it wills,” he does not say this as if the wind had some choice, but showing its natural movement, unhindered and taking place with power. For Scripture knows how to speak of lifeless things too in this way, as when it says, “For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly.” So “it blows where it wills” is the language of one showing that it cannot be held back, that it spreads everywhere, and that there is no one to prevent it from being borne here and there, but it disperses with great power, and no one is able to turn aside its force.

“And you hear its sound,” that is, the rustle, the noise, “but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” Here is the conclusion of the whole. “For if,” he says, “you do not know how to explain the impulse or the path of this wind, which you perceive by hearing and touch, how can you pry into the working of the divine Spirit, when you do not understand that of the wind, though you hear its sound?” So “it blows where it wills” is also said to present the power of the Paraclete. What he says is this: If no one holds this back, but it moves where it wills, much less will the laws of nature, or the limits of bodily birth, or anything else of that kind be able to hold back the working of the Spirit. That “you hear its sound” was said of the wind is clear from this: he would not have said, “you hear its sound,” when speaking with an unbeliever who did not know the working of the Spirit. As then the wind is not seen, though it gives a sound, so neither is the birth of the spiritual person seen by the eyes of the body; and yet the wind is a body, even if very fine; for what falls under sense is body. If then you are not vexed at not seeing the body, and do not disbelieve because of it, why, when you hear about the Spirit, are you dizzy and demand so many accounts, when you do not do this with a body? What then does Nicodemus do? He still stays in Jewish meanness of mind, and that when so clear an example had been told him. And when he again says doubtingly, “How can these things be?”, Christ then speaks to him more sharply, saying, “Are you the teacher of Israel, and you do not know these things?” See how he nowhere accuses the man of wickedness, but rather of simplicity and naivety. And what does this birth have in common with Jewish things, someone might say? Tell me, what does it not have in common? For the first man that came to be, and the woman made from the rib, and the barren women, and the things accomplished through water (I mean what happened at the spring from which Elisha raised the iron, at the Red Sea which the Jews crossed, at the pool which the angel stirred, in the case of Naaman the Syrian who was cleansed in the Jordan): all these proclaimed beforehand, as in a type, the birth and cleansing that was to come. And what was said by the prophets hints at this manner of birth, for example, “The generation to come will be proclaimed to the Lord, and they will proclaim his righteousness to a people that will be born, whom the Lord has made”; “Your youth will be renewed like the eagle’s”; “Shine, Jerusalem; behold, your king comes”; “Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven.” And Isaac too was a type of this birth. For tell me, Nicodemus, how was he born? By the law of nature? Not at all. So the manner of his birth stood midway between this birth and that one: like the one, because it was from intercourse; like the other, because he was not born of blood. And I show that these ways proclaimed beforehand not only this birth but also the one from the virgin. For since no one would easily have believed that a virgin gives birth, barren women came first, and then not only barren but aged women. And yet it is much more wonderful for a woman to come from a rib than from a barren woman; but since that was ancient and old, another way came about again, new and fresh, that of the barren women, preparing the way for faith in the virgin’s childbirth. Reminding him of these things, then, he said, “Are you the teacher of Israel, and you do not know these things? We speak what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, and no one receives our testimony.” He added this, making his word credible from another side as well, and condescending in his language to the other’s weakness.

And what is it that he says, “We speak what we know, and we testify to what we have seen”? Since with us too sight is more trustworthy than the other senses, and if we want to convince someone we say, “We saw it with our own eyes; we do not know it from hearsay,” for this reason Christ too speaks to him more in a human way, confirming his word from this too. And that this is it, and that he wants to present nothing else, and does not refer to sight by the senses, is clear from this: after saying, “What is born of the flesh is flesh,” and, “What is born of the Spirit is spirit,” he added, “We speak what we know, and we testify to what we have seen.” But this had not yet been born. How then does he say, “what we have seen”? Is it not plain that he speaks of exact knowledge, which cannot be otherwise? “And no one receives our testimony.” “What we know,” then, he says either about himself and the Father, or about himself alone; and “no one receives” is not now the word of one annoyed, but of one announcing what happens. For he did not say, “What could be more senseless than you, who do not accept what is told so exactly by us?” but, showing all gentleness in deeds and in words, he said none of this, but foretold mildly and gently what would happen, leading us too from this to all gentleness, and teaching us, when we talk with some people and do not persuade them, not to be annoyed or turn savage. For the one who is harsh cannot accomplish anything, but rather makes the other more unpersuadable. That is why we must abstain from anger and make our word credible on every side, not only by not being angry, but also by not shouting. For shouting is the fuel of anger. Let us hobble the horse, then, so as [to throw the rider; let us clip the wings of] anger, and the evil will no longer be lifted to a height. For anger is a sharp passion, sharp, and clever at stealing our souls. That is why we must block its entrance on every side. For it is absurd to be able to tame wild beasts, but to overlook our own mind turning savage. Rage is a fierce fire that devours everything: it harms the body and destroys the soul, and makes a man unpleasant and ugly to see. And if the angry man could see himself at the moment of his anger, he would need no other exhortation. For nothing is more disagreeable than an angry face. Anger is a kind of drunkenness, or rather [more grievous than drunkenness. But if we take care] not to shout, we shall find the best road to self-control. That is why Paul writes that shouting must be removed together with anger, saying, “Let all anger and clamor be removed from you.” Let us, then, obey the teacher of all philosophy; and when we are angry with our servants, let us think of our own sins and be ashamed at their gentleness. For when you insult him, and he bears it in silence, [take] this instead of every admonition. For even if he is a servant, he is still a man, having an immortal soul, and honored with the same gifts by the common Master. And if he, who is our equal in the greater and more spiritual things, bears what comes from us so meekly because of some cheap and small human superiority, what pardon would we deserve, or what defense, we who cannot, or rather will not, practice philosophy for the fear of God, as he does for fear of us? Considering all these things, then, and thinking of our sins and of the common nature of man, let us practice speaking gently everywhere, so that, becoming humble in heart, we may find rest for our souls, both the present and the future; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.