Homilies on John 47.1–47.5

“So Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have eternal life in yourselves. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has life in himself.’” When we speak about spiritual things, let there be nothing worldly in our souls, nothing earthly; let all such things withdraw, let all be banished, and let us belong wholly to the hearing of the divine oracles alone. For if, when a king enters a city, all commotion is driven away, much more when the Spirit speaks to us must we listen with great quiet and great awe. For what is said today is worthy of awe. And [hear how it is so]: “Truly,” he says, “I say to you, unless someone eats my flesh and drinks my blood, he does not have life in himself.” Since they had said before that this was impossible, he shows that it is not only not impossible but even very necessary. That is why he adds, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” For since he had said, “Whoever eats of this bread will not die for ever,” and it was likely that this would offend them—just as earlier they said, “Abraham died, and the prophets died, and how do you say, ‘He will not taste death’?”—he put the resurrection, resolving the question and showing that he will not die in the end. And he constantly turns over the discourse about the mysteries, showing the necessity of the thing, and that it must by all means take place. “For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.” What does he mean? Either he wishes to say that this is the true food, the one that saves the soul; or to assure them about what was said, so that they might not think it a riddle and a parable, but know that one must by all means eat the body. Then he says, “Whoever eats my flesh abides in me,” saying this to show that he is blended with him. What follows seems to be disconnected, unless we examine the sense. For what sequence is there, someone says, in adding, after saying, “Whoever eats my flesh abides in me,” the words, “As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father”? But what is said has great harmony. For since he kept speaking of eternal life, establishing it he added, “abides in me.” For if he abides in me, and I live, it is clear that he too will live. Then he says, “As the living Father [sent] me.” This is comparative and expresses likeness. What he says is this: I live just as the Father does. And so that you might not think him unbegotten, he added at once, “because of the Father,” not showing by this that he needs some working in order to live. For above, removing this, he said, “For as the Father has life in himself, so he has given to the Son also to have life in himself.” But if he needs a working, either the Father will be found not to have given so, and the saying false; or, if he gave so, he will need nothing else to sustain him. What then does “because of the Father” mean? He hints here only at the cause. What he says is this: As the Father is living, so I too live. “And whoever eats me, he too will live because of me.” He speaks here of life not simply, but of the life of good repute. And that he spoke not of life simply, but of that glorious and unspeakable life, is clear from this: all, even unbelievers and the uninitiated, live without having eaten of that flesh. Do you see that the discourse is not about this life but about that one? What he says is this: Whoever eats my flesh will not perish when he dies, nor be punished. Nor does he speak about the common resurrection—for all rise alike—but about the special one, the glorious one, the one that has a reward. “This is the bread that came down from heaven; not as your fathers ate the manna and died. Whoever eats this bread will live for ever.” He constantly turns the same thing over, so as to imprint it on the minds of the hearers (for the teaching about these things was the final one), and to confirm the doctrine of the resurrection and of eternal life. That is why he adds the resurrection, both because he spoke of eternal life and to show that it is not now but after the resurrection. “And from where is this clear?” someone says. From the Scriptures. For everywhere he sends them there, bidding them learn these things from them. And by saying, “giving life to the world,” he also leads them to emulation, so that, even from vexation that others enjoy the gift, they might not remain outside. And he constantly reminds them of the manna, both showing the difference and leading them to faith. For if it was possible for forty years to sustain their life without harvest and grain and the rest of the usual course, much more will he be able to do this now, since he has come for greater things. Besides, if those things were types, and they gathered what was brought without sweat and labor, much more will it be so now, where the difference is great: never dying, and enjoying true life. Rightly he often mentions life, since this is desirable to men, and nothing is so sweet as not dying. For in the Old Testament too this was the promise: length of life and many days; but now there is not simply length, but life that has no end. At the same time he wishes to show that he now revokes the punishment that came from sin, undoing that sentence of death, and bringing in life—not simply life, but eternal—the opposite of the former things. “He said these things teaching in a synagogue in Capernaum,” where most of his mighty works had been done, so that he ought to have been heeded there above all.

[2] And why did he teach in a synagogue and in the temple? Both wishing to catch the multitude of them, [and wishing to show that he was not opposed to the Father]. “Many of his disciples, hearing it, [said], ‘This is a hard saying.’” What does “hard” mean? Rough, laborious, toilsome. And yet he said nothing of the kind; for he was not speaking about conduct but about doctrines, again and again turning over faith in himself. What then does “this saying is hard” mean? That he promises life and resurrection? That he said he had come down from heaven? Or that it is impossible to be saved for one who has not eaten his flesh? Are these hard, tell me? And who would say so? [What then does “hard” mean? Difficult to accept, beyond] their weakness, carrying great fear. For they thought he was saying things greater than his own station and beyond himself. That is why they also said, “Who can hear it?”—perhaps defending themselves, since they were about to leap away. “But Jesus, knowing in himself that the disciples were grumbling about this” (for this too belongs to his divinity, to bring secrets into the open), then says, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascending where he was before?” He did this in the case of Nathanael too, saying, “Because I said to you, ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ do you believe? You will see greater things than these”; and in the case of Nicodemus, “No one has ascended into heaven except the Son of Man, who is in heaven.” What then? Does he join perplexities to perplexities? Not at all, far from it! But he wishes to draw them on by the greatness and number of the doctrines. For one who said simply, “I have come down from heaven,” and added nothing more, would have offended them the more; but one who also said, “My body is the life of the world,” and “As the living Father sent me, I too live because of the Father,” as well as “I have come down from heaven,” resolves the perplexity. For one who utters one great thing about himself might be suspected of fabricating; but one who strings together so many things in a row removes all suspicion. And he does and says everything so as to draw them away from thinking Joseph his father. So he said this not wishing to intensify the offense, but rather to resolve it. For one who thought him to be from Joseph would not have accepted what was said; but one persuaded that he had come down from heaven and would go up there would more easily attend to what was said. Along with these things he brings another resolution too, saying, “It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh profits nothing.” What he means is this: one must hear what concerns me spiritually; for one who heard in a fleshly way gained nothing nor enjoyed any good. And it was fleshly to dispute how he had come down from heaven, to think he was the son of Joseph, and to ask, “How can he give us his flesh to eat?” All these are fleshly, things which one ought to understand mystically and spiritually. “And how,” someone says, “could they understand what eating flesh is?” Then they ought to have waited for the proper time and inquired, and not given up. “The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life”; that is, they are divine and spiritual, having nothing fleshly, nor any natural sequence; they are free of all such necessity, and above the laws laid down here; they have another, different sense. As, then, here he said “spirit” instead of “spiritual,” so by saying “flesh” he did not mean fleshly things, but hearing in a fleshly way, at the same time hinting at them, that they always desired fleshly things when they ought to aspire to spiritual ones. For if someone takes it in a fleshly way, he has gained nothing. What then? Is his flesh not flesh? Most certainly it is. And how did he say, “The flesh profits nothing”? He was not speaking of his own flesh—far from it!—but of those who take what is said in a fleshly way. And what is understanding in a fleshly way? Looking simply at what lies before one, and imagining nothing more. For this is “in a fleshly way.” But one must not judge so by what is seen, but look into all the mysteries with the inner eyes. For this is “spiritually.” Surely one who does not eat his flesh and drink his blood does not have life in himself; how then does the flesh profit nothing, without which it is not possible to live? Do you see that “the flesh profits nothing” is said not of his flesh but of fleshly hearing? “But there are some of you who do not believe.” Again, as is his custom, he gives his words dignity, foretelling the future and showing that he said these things not desiring their glory but caring for them. And by saying “some,” he excepted the disciples. For at the beginning he said, “You have seen me and do not believe me”; but here, “There are some of you who do not believe.” “For he knew from the beginning who they were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him. And he said, ‘This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him from above by my Father.’” Here the evangelist hints to us at the voluntary character of the dispensation, and its forbearance. And “from the beginning” is not put idly here, but so that you may learn his foreknowledge from above, and that he knew the betrayer not after these words, nor after the grumbling, nor after the offense, but even before this, which belonged to divinity. Then he added, “unless it is granted him from above by my Father,” persuading them to think God his Father and not Joseph, and showing that believing in him is no ordinary thing. For he all but says this: Those who do not believe do not disturb me, do not trouble me, do not surprise me; I knew this from above, before it happened; I know to whom the Father has given.

But when you hear “has given,” do not think of a mere allotment, but believe this: that whoever has made himself worthy to receive is the one who has received. “From this time many of his disciples went back, and no longer walked with him.” Rightly the evangelist did not say “withdrew,” but “went back,” showing that they cut short their progress in virtue and [lost] the faith they had had before. [But the twelve did not] suffer this. That is why he also says to them, “Do you too wish to go away?”, showing again that he does not need their service and attendance, nor was he leading them about for display. For how could he be, when he said this even to these? Why then did he not praise them? Why did he not admire them? Both keeping the dignity proper to a teacher, and showing that they ought rather to be drawn by this manner. For if he had praised them, they might have thought they were doing him a favor and suffered some human weakness; but by showing that he did not need their following, he held them more. And see how shrewdly he said it. For he did not say, “Go away”—that would have been the act of one pushing them off—but he asks, saying, “Do you too wish to go away?”, which was the act of one removing all force and necessity, and not wishing them to be attached to him out of some shame, but with gratitude. And by not accusing those others openly, but touching them gently, he showed how one must be wise in such matters. But we suffer the opposite—reasonably, since we do everything clinging to our own glory. That is why we think our affairs diminished by the withdrawal of those who serve us. [But he neither flattered nor pushed them away, but ask]ed. It was not, then, the act of one who despised them, but of one not wishing them to be held by force and necessity. For to remain so is the same as to go away. What then does Peter say? “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have come to know that you are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Do you see that it was not the words that offended, but the inattention, the carelessness and the unfairness of the hearers? For even if he had not spoken, they would have been offended and not ceased, always attending to bodily food and nailed to the earth. Besides, these too heard along with those; but nevertheless they declared the opposite, saying, “To whom shall we go?” The saying shows great affection. For it shows that the Teacher is more precious to them than all things, than fathers and mothers and all that exists, and that having departed from him they have nowhere else to flee. Then, so that “to whom shall we go?” might not seem to have been said as though there were none who would receive them, he at once added, “You have the words of eternal life.” For those heard in a fleshly way and with human reasonings, but these spiritually, entrusting everything to faith. That is why Christ also said, “The words that I have spoken to you are spirit”; that is, do not suppose that the teaching of my words is subject to the sequence of things and the necessity of what happens. Spiritual things are not such; they do not bear to be slaves to the laws on earth. Paul too shows this, saying, “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’—that is, to bring Christ down—or ‘Who will descend into the abyss?’—that is, to bring Christ up from the dead.” “You have the words of eternal life.” These already accepted the resurrection and the whole lot there. And see the brother-loving, affectionate man, how he makes the defense for the whole band; for he did not say “I know” but “we know.” Or rather, see how he comes upon the very words of the teacher, not uttering the same things as the Jews. For they said, “This is the son of Joseph”; but he, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,” and “You have the words of eternal life,” having perhaps often heard him say, “Whoever believes in me has eternal life.” For he showed that he held fast all that was said, by recalling the very words. What then does Christ do? He did not praise Peter nor admire him, though he did so elsewhere; but what does he say? “Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?” For since he said, “And we have believed,” he excepts Judas from the band. There, he himself said nothing about the disciples; but when Christ said, “But who do you say that I am?” he says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” But here, since he said, “And we have believed,” he rightly does not let Judas into their band. He did this checking the traitor's wickedness from far off and long beforehand, knowing that it would do no good, but doing his own part.

[4] And behold the wisdom: he neither made him manifest nor let him escape notice—the former so that he might not become shameless and more contentious, the latter so that, thinking he was unnoticed, he might not carry out the crime fearlessly. That is why, as he goes on, he brings more open reproofs. For earlier he numbered him with the others, saying, “There are some of you who do not believe” (and that he numbered the betrayer too, the evangelist made clear by saying, “For he knew from the beginning who they were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him”); but since he persisted, he brings a sharper reproof: “One of you is a devil,” and makes the fear common to all, wishing to keep him concealed. It is worth asking here why the disciples now say nothing, but later are afraid and perplexed, looking at one another and asking, “Is it I, Lord?” And Peter nods to John to find out the betrayer and ask the Teacher who it is. What then is the reason? Peter had not yet heard, “Get behind me, Satan.” That is why he had no fear; but when he had been rebuked, and though speaking out of great affection had won no approval but even heard himself called Satan, then, hearing “One of you will betray me,” he was reasonably afraid at last. Besides, he does not say now, “One of you will betray me,” but “One of you is.” That is why they did not even know what was said, but thought they were being taunted only with wickedness. And why did he say, “Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?” Showing that his teaching was free of flattery. For since, when all had abandoned him, they alone remained and through Peter confessed that he was the Christ, so that they might not think that for this reason he was going to flatter them, he leads them away from this suspicion. What he says is this: Nothing abashes me so as not to reprove the wicked. Do not think that because you have stayed I will choose to flatter you, or that because you have followed me I do not reprove the wicked. For what is much more able than this to abash a teacher does not abash me either. For one who stays provides proof of his affection; but one chosen by the teacher, when he is cast out, attaches a reputation for folly to the teacher among the foolish. But nevertheless not even this draws me away from reproofs. At any rate the Greeks even now charge Christ with this, coldly and foolishly. For God is not wont to make people good by necessity and force, nor is his choosing and election compulsive of those called, but persuasive. And so that you may learn that the calling does not force, consider how many of those called have perished. Hence it is clear that being saved and perishing lie in our own will.

[5] Hearing these things, then, let us be trained always to be sober and watchful. For if the one who belonged to that holy band, who had enjoyed so great a gift, who had done signs (for he too was with the others who were sent to raise the dead and cleanse lepers), when he was seized by that terrible disease, the evil of love of money, and betrayed his own Master, gained nothing—neither from the benefits, nor the gifts, nor being with him, nor the attendance, nor having his feet washed, nor sharing the table, nor holding the money box—but these even became provisions for punishment to him, let us too fear lest we ever imitate Judas through love of money. You do not betray Christ? But when you overlook a poor man wasting with hunger or perishing from cold, you too draw on yourself the same condemnation. And when we partake of the mysteries unworthily, we perish like [those who slew Christ; and when we rob and oppress] those weaker than ourselves, we shall draw on ourselves the greatest punishment—and very reasonably. For how long will love of present things, superfluous and useless, hold us so? For wealth lies in superfluities, from which no benefit comes. How long shall we be nailed to vanities? How long shall we not look up to heaven, not be sober, not grow weary of these earthly and fleeting things? Are we not taught their cheapness by experience of them? Let us consider those who were rich before us. Is not all that a dream? Is it not a shadow and a flower, a passing stream? Is it not a tale and a fable? So-and-so was rich; and where is his wealth now? It has perished and been destroyed; but the sins committed for it remain, and the punishment for the sins. Rather, even if there were no punishment, and no kingdom set before us, we ought to respect our common race and kind, to be abashed before one who suffers as we do. But as it is we feed dogs, and many feed wild asses and bears and various beasts; but a man we overlook wasting with hunger, and what is foreign is more precious to us than our kinsman, and our own kind more dishonored than what is nothing to us and does not even heed us. “But is it a fine thing to build splendid houses, to have many servants, and to see oneself lying under a golden ceiling?” Superfluous rather, and useless. There are other buildings much more splendid and august than these; it is with such that one should delight the eyes, for no one will prevent it. Do you wish [to see] a most beautiful [ceiling? Look at evening at the] heaven [adorned with stars]. “But it is not my ceiling,” someone says. And yet this one is yours more than that one. For it was made for you and is common to you with your brothers; but that one is not yours, but belongs to those who inherit it after your death. And this one will be able to benefit you greatly, sending you on to the Creator through its beauty; but that one will harm you greatly, becoming your greatest accuser on the day of judgment, when it is clothed in gold while Christ does not have even a necessary garment. Let us not, then, endure such folly; let us not pursue what flees and flee what remains; let us not betray our salvation, but hold to the hope to come—the old, as knowing plainly that little time of life is left to us; the young, as clearly persuaded that what remains is not much. For as a thief in the night, so that day comes. Knowing these things, then, let wives exhort husbands and husbands admonish wives, let us teach the young men and the virgins, and let us all train one another to despise present things and to aspire to those to come, so that we may be able to obtain them, 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.