Homilies on John 43.1–44.4

“When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, and getting into the boat they were going across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not come to them. And the sea, as a great wind was blowing, [was rising].” Christ arranges what is profitable for the disciples not only when he is present in the body, but also when he is far away. For being resourceful and inventive, he accomplishes one and the same thing by opposite means. See, at any rate, what he does here too. He leaves the disciples and goes up the mountain. And they [went down, when evening came,] to the sea; until evening they waited for him, expecting him to come to them. But when evening came, they could no longer bear not to go in search of him; so great a love held them. For they did not say, “It is evening now, and night has overtaken us; where shall we go now? The place is dangerous, the time hazardous”; but, set on fire by longing, they got into the boat. For the evangelist does not mark the time idly, but to show by it their warm love. Why then does he leave them and withdraw? Or rather, why does he appear again alone, walking on the sea? By the one teaching them how great a thing it is to be abandoned, and making their longing greater; by the other again showing his own power. For as in the teaching they did not hear everything along with the crowd, so too in the signs they did not see everything along with the multitude. For those who were going to be entrusted with the leadership of the world had to have something more than the rest. “And what signs did they see by themselves?” someone says. The transfiguration on the mountain, this one on the sea, and those after the resurrection, which are many and great. And from these I conjecture others too. They were going to Capernaum, not knowing for certain, but expecting to find him there, or even in the middle of the crossing. John at any rate hinted at this by saying that it was already dark and Jesus had not come to them, and the sea was rising as a great wind blew. What then did they do? They are troubled; and there were many things forcing them to this, and from many sides: from the time, for it was dark; from the storm, for the sea was rising; from the place, for they were not near land but had rowed about twenty-five stadia; and last from the strangeness of it: “for they see him walking on the sea”; and to them, greatly troubled, he says, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Why then did he appear? To show that he is the one who would dissolve the storm. For the evangelist made this clear by saying, “They were willing to take him in; and immediately the boat was at the land.” For he gave them not only a safe crossing but a favorable one too. To the crowd he did not show himself walking on the sea; for the sign was greater than their weakness could bear. And not even to the disciples did he appear doing this for long; he was seen and at once departed from them. To me this sign too seems to be different from the one recorded in Matthew; and that it is different is clear from many things. For he often does the same signs, so as to make those who see them not only greatly astonished but also receive them with great faith. “It is I; do not be afraid.” With the word he also cast fear out of their soul. Elsewhere he does not do so; that is why Peter said, “Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you.” Why then did they not accept it at once then, but are persuaded now? Because then the storm still continued, tossing the boat, but now the calm came with the voice; or, if not this, it is what I said before: that by doing the same signs often, he made the second acceptable through the first. And why did he not get into the boat? Wishing to make the miracle greater, and at the same time to reveal his divinity to them more clearly, and to show that when he gave thanks then, he did it not as needing help but condescending to them. He allowed the storm to arise, so that they might always seek him; but he stopped it again at once, so that he might make his power known; and he did not get into the boat, so that he might make the wonder greater. “On the next day the crowd that was standing there, seeing that there was no other boat there except the one into which his disciples had got, and that Jesus had not gone in with them, [...] they too got into other boats that came from Tiberias.” And why is John so precise? Why did he not say, “The crowds crossed the next day and went away”? He wishes to teach us something else. What is it? That to the crowds too, even if not so plainly, he nevertheless gave secretly a hint of what had happened. For they saw, he says, that there was no boat there but one, and that Jesus had not gone in with them; and getting into the boats from Tiberias, they came to Capernaum seeking Jesus. For what else could they suspect but that he had come walking over the sea? For one cannot say that he crossed in another boat; for there was one, it says, into which his disciples got. Yet having come after so great a wonder, they did not ask him how he crossed, how he came, nor seek to learn so great a sign; but what do they say? “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Unless one says that “when” is used by them here instead of “how.”

[2] It is worth seeing from this too the fickleness of their mind. For those who said, “This is the prophet,” who were eager to seize him and make him king, on finding him plan nothing of the kind, but having let their wonder slip, as I think, no longer marvel at the earlier things. That is why they sought him, wishing to enjoy again a table such as before. The Jews too crossed the Red Sea, with Moses leading, but the difference here is great. For he did everything praying and as a servant, but this one with all authority. And there, when the south wind blew, the water gave way so as to let them pass over on dry ground; but here the wonder was greater. For the sea, remaining in its own nature, so carried its Master on its back, bearing witness to that saying, “who walks on the sea as on solid ground.” Reasonably, when he was about to go into Capernaum, hard and disobedient, he worked the sign of the loaves, wishing to soften the disobedience of its people not only by the wonders done in it but also by those done outside the city. For that so many crowds should come into that city with great eagerness—what stone would this not have been enough to soften? But they experienced nothing of the kind, but again desired bodily food; that is why they are reproached by Jesus. Knowing these things, then, beloved, let us give thanks to God for perceptible things, but much more for spiritual ones. For so he himself wishes, and he gives the former for the sake of the latter, leading on the more imperfect by them and training them beforehand, since they still gape after the world. But when, having received them, they rest in them, they are blamed and rebuked. For in the case of the paralytic too he wished to give that spiritual gift first, but those present would not bear it; for when he said, “Your sins are forgiven,” they said, “This man blasphemes.” Let us not, I beg you, suffer anything of the kind; but let us make more account of those spiritual things. Why? Because when spiritual things are present, no harm comes from the absence of fleshly ones; but when those are absent, what hope will we have thereafter? What comfort? That is why we must always beseech God for these and ask for these. For such things Christ too taught us to pray for. And if we unfold that prayer, we shall find nothing fleshly in it, but everything spiritual; and even that small perceptible thing becomes spiritual by the manner. For to urge us to seek nothing more than “daily bread,” that is, bread for each day, would be the mark of a spiritual and philosophical mind. And see what comes before it: “Hallowed be your name; your kingdom come; your will be done, as in heaven, so on earth.” Then, having spoken that perceptible thing, he quickly left it and came again to spiritual teaching, saying, “[Forgive] us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” Nowhere did he put rule, nowhere wealth, nowhere glory, nowhere power into the prayer, but everything that contributes to the benefit of the soul; nothing earthly, but everything [heavenly]. If, then, we are commanded to abstain from worldly and present things, how would we not be wretched and miserable, asking God for those things which he commanded us to cast off even when we have them, freeing us from care, while for the things he commanded we make no effort—or rather wish neither to have nor to desire them? For this is babbling. That is why even when we pray we accomplish nothing. “How then,” someone says, “are the wicked rich? How the unjust and defiled, who rob and are greedy?” Not because God provides it—far from it! “And how does God allow it?” Because he allowed it to the rich man then too, keeping him for greater punishment. Hear, then, what he says to him: “Child, you received your good things, and Lazarus his evil things; and now he is comforted, and you are in anguish.” So that we too may not hear this voice, living in luxury idly and in vain and gathering many sins for ourselves, let us choose the true wealth and the exact philosophy, so as to obtain the good things promised; which may we all share, 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.

“Jesus answered them and said, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek me not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. Labor not for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life.’” Gentleness and smoothness are not useful everywhere; sometimes the teacher needs a sharper approach too. For when the disciple is sluggish and dull, one must then use the goad on him, so as to reach through his great sluggishness. This the Son of God too has done, both in many other places and in the present passage. For when the crowds came and found Jesus, and flattered him, saying, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” he, to show that he does not desire honor from men but looks to one thing only, their salvation, answers them rebukingly, wishing to correct them not only in this way but also by uncovering their mind and bringing it into the open. For what does he say? “Truly, truly, I say to you”—with emphasis and confirmation—“you seek me not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled.” He strikes them with the word and reproves them, yet not harshly or severely, but doing it with great forbearance. For he did not say, “O gluttons and slaves of the belly, I have worked so many wonders, and [you have neither followed me nor marveled],” but gently and quietly, somewhat like this: “You seek me not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled,” showing this not only about the past signs but also about the present one. For in addressing them he all but says this: It is not the wonder of the loaves that amazed you, but being filled. And that he did not say this by conjecture about them, they at once showed. For that is why they came again, as though they were going to enjoy the same things. That is why they also said, “Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness,” again drawing him to fleshly food, which was the greatest charge and accusation against them. But he does not stop at reproofs; he adds teaching to them, saying, “Labor not for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man gives you; for on him God the Father has set his seal.” What he means is this: Let none of you take account of this food, but of that spiritual food. But since some who wish to be fed in idleness have misused this saying, as though Christ were abolishing work, it is timely to speak to them too. For they slander, so to speak, the whole of Christianity [and make it ridiculous] on the score of idleness. [First] it is necessary [to cite] Paul's saying. What does he say? “Remember the Lord, who said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” Yet how could one who has nothing give? “How then did Jesus say to Martha, ‘You are anxious and troubled; but one thing is needed; Mary has chosen the good portion’; and again, ‘Do not be anxious about tomorrow’?” For it is necessary now to resolve all these things, not only so that we may stop them from being idle, if they wish to be, but so that we may not show the oracles of God introducing any conflict. For elsewhere too the apostle says, “We urge you to abound more and to aspire to live quietly and to mind your own affairs, so that you may walk properly before outsiders”; and again, “Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, working with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with the one in need.” Here Paul commanded not simply to work, but to work with such toil as to have from it something to share with another too. And elsewhere again the same man says, “These hands ministered to my needs and to those who were with me.” And writing to the Corinthians he said, “What then is my reward? That in preaching the gospel I may make the gospel free of charge.” And when he was in that city, he stayed with Aquila and Priscilla and worked; for they were tentmakers by trade. But these things show the conflict sharper as far as the letter goes. So it remains to bring in the resolution. What then would we say to these things? That not being anxious is not the same as not working, but means not being nailed to the affairs of life; that is, not making provision for tomorrow's rest a concern, but thinking it a secondary matter. For it is possible while working to store up nothing for tomorrow, and possible while working to be anxious about nothing. For anxiety and work are not the same. Nor does one work trusting in the work, but so as to share with the one in need. And what was said to Martha is not about work and labor, but about the need to know the right time, and not to spend the time of listening on more fleshly things. He did not, then, say this to throw her into idleness, but to fix her on listening. I came, he says, to teach you what you need, and you are busy about dinner? You wish to receive me and to prepare a costly table? Prepare another feast, giving me eager listening and imitating your sister's longing. He did not say this, then, to forbid hospitality—far from it; how could he?—but to show that one must not be busy with other things at the time of listening. And to say, “Labor not for the food that perishes,” is not to hint that one must be idle—for this above all is perishing food (“for idleness has taught every vice”)—but that one should work and share. For this is no longer perishing food. But if someone, idle, gorges himself and attends to luxury, he labors for the food that perishes; just as, if someone by working feeds Christ and gives him drink and clothes him, no one is so senseless and ignorant as to say that such a man labors for perishing food, since the promise of the kingdom to come and of those good things belongs to it. For this food endures for ever. Besides, then too, since they made no account of faith, nor sought to learn who it was that did these things and by what power, but [desired] one thing [only, to be filled without working], he rightly called such nourishment perishing food. I fed your bodies, he says, so that from this you might seek the other food, that which endures, that which nourishes your soul; but you run again to the earthly. That is why you do not understand that I am leading you not to this imperfect food, but to that which provides not temporary life but eternal, which nourishes not the body but the soul. Then, since he had spoken so greatly about himself and said that he himself would give it, so that what was said might not again offend them, making his word credible, he refers the supply of it to the Father. For having said, “which the Son of Man will give you,” he added, “for on him God the Father has set his seal,” that is, he sent him for this purpose, bringing you this food. The expression admits another interpretation too. For elsewhere too Christ says, “Whoever hears my words has set his seal that God is true,” that is, has shown it incontestably; which I think the expression hints at here too. For “the Father set his seal” means nothing else than “he showed, he revealed through his testimony.” He showed himself too; but since he was speaking to Jews, he brought forward the Father's testimony.

[2] Let us learn, then, beloved, to ask God for those things which it is worthy to ask of him. For those other things—the things of this life, I mean—however they turn out, bring no harm. For if we become rich, we shall enjoy the luxury here only; and if we fall into poverty, we shall suffer nothing terrible. For neither the splendid nor the painful things of this life have much force in respect of despondency or pleasure, but both are contemptible [and quickly slip away]. That is why it has rightly been called a road, since these things pass by and are not of a nature to remain long; but the things to come, both of them, remain immortal—those of punishment and those of the kingdom. Let us then take great pains about those, so as to flee the one and choose the other. For what is the use of luxury here? Today it is, and tomorrow it is not; today a bright flower, and tomorrow scattered dust; today a burning fire, and tomorrow quenched ashes. But spiritual things are not such; they always remain shining and blooming and grow brighter every day. That wealth never perishes, never changes hands, never ceases, never brings care and envy and accusation; it does not destroy the body, does not corrupt the soul, has no envy, does not heap up malice—all of which attach to the other wealth. That glory does not lift one up to folly, does not make one swell, never ceases nor grows dimmer. The rest and the delight in heaven again remain, and this unending, always unmoved and immortal; for one cannot find a limit or end to it. Let us long, I urge you, for this life. For if we long for it, we shall make no account of present things, but shall despise and laugh at all of them; even if someone bids us enter royal courts, we shall not choose it while we have that hope—and yet nothing seems more blessed than this; but to those held by the love of heaven even this is small and cheap and worth no account. For nothing that has an end is much to be striven after; everything that ceases, that is today and tomorrow is not, even if it is very great, seems very small and contemptible. Let us not, then, cling to what flees, nor to what flows past and departs, but to what remains and is unmoved, so that we may be able to 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.