Homilies on John 58.1–58.5

“So they said to the blind man again, ‘What do you say about him, since he opened your eyes?’ He said, ‘He is a prophet.’ The Jews did not believe [that he had been blind and had received his sight].” We must go through the Scriptures not carelessly or in passing, but with all exactness, so as not to be tripped up. For here too one might reasonably be at a loss how, after saying, “This man is not from God, for he does not keep the Sabbath,” they say to him, “What do you say about him, since he opened your eyes?” They did not say, “What do you say about him, since he broke the Sabbath?”, but now they put forward the defense instead of the accusation. What then may one say? It is not those who said, “This man is not from God,” who speak here, but those who had been divided from them, who also said, “A sinner cannot do such signs.” For wishing to silence them further, so that they themselves might not seem to be pleading for Christ, they bring into the open the one who had experienced his power, and question him. See, then, the wisdom of the poor man; for he speaks more sensibly than all of them. And first he says, “He is a prophet”; and he did not cower before the judgment of the perverse among the Jews, who contradicted and said, “How can this man be from God, when he does not keep the Sabbath?”, but he said, “He is a prophet.” [“The Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight] until they called his parents.” And consider in how many ways they try to obscure the miracle and do away with it. But such is the very nature of truth: through the things by which it seems to be plotted against by men, through these it becomes stronger; it shines through the very things by which it is obscured. For if these things had not happened, the miracle might have been suspected by the many; but as it is, they do everything as though eager to lay the truth bare, and they would not have done otherwise if they had been doing everything for Christ’s sake. For they tried to cast him down by this method, saying, “How did he open your eyes?”, that is, “Was it not by some sorcery?” For elsewhere too, having nothing to allege, they try to slander the manner of his healing, saying, “He does not cast out demons except by Beelzebul.” And here again, having nothing to say, they take refuge in the time, saying that he breaks the Sabbath, and again, that he is a sinner. And yet, though you envied him and were ready to fasten on what he had done, he asked you with all exactness, saying, “Which of you convicts me of sin?” And no one uttered a word, nor said, “You blaspheme, calling yourself sinless.” And yet if they had had something to say, they would not have kept silent. For those who stoned him for hearing that he was before Abraham, and who said that he was not from God, and boasted that they themselves were from God though they were murderers, and said that one who did such signs was not from God because, in healing, he did not keep the Sabbath: if they had had even a shadow of a charge, they would not have passed it over. And if they call him a sinner for this reason, because he seemed to break the Sabbath, and this charge too appeared stale, since those ranked with them [condemned] its great feebleness, then, tripped up on every side, they turn from then on to another, more shameless and more reckless. What is this? “They did not believe,” it says, “that he had been blind and had received his sight.” How then did they accuse him of not keeping the Sabbath, unless clearly as believing it? And how did you not heed the great crowd, the neighbors who knew him? But, as I said, falsehood everywhere falls over itself, through the very means by which it seems to attack the truth, and shows the truth more brilliant; which is what happened now too. For so that no one might say that the neighbors and those who had seen him said nothing exact, but were going by a resemblance, they bring the parents into the open, through whom they unwillingly showed what had happened to be true. For these knew their own child best of all. For since they could not cow him, but saw him proclaiming his benefactor with all boldness, they expected to wound the miracle through the parents. And see the malice of the question. What do they say? Setting them in the midst, so as to throw them into anguish, they put the question with great vehemence and anger: “Is this your son?” And they did not say, “the one who was once blind,” but how? “whom you say was born blind,” as though they were acting with malice and [contriving] Christ’s [work for him. O wretched men! What] father would choose to tell such lies about his child? For they all but say, “whom you made blind; and not only that, but you have spread the story everywhere. How then does he now see?” O folly! “Yours,” they say, “is the fraud and the contrivance.” For by two things they try to lead them to deny: by saying, “whom you say,” and by saying, “How then does he now see?”

So of the three questions asked, whether he was their son, whether he had been blind, and how he received his sight, they acknowledge only two and do not add the third. And this too happened for the sake of the truth, so that no one else but the man who was healed, being trustworthy, should acknowledge these things. For how would the parents have done anyone a favor, they who even kept silent about some of the things they knew, through fear of the Jews? What do they say? “We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind; but how he now sees, or who opened his eyes, we do not know. He is of age; he will speak for himself.” Having made him trustworthy, they thus excused themselves: “He is not a child,” they say, “nor immature, but able to testify for himself.” “His parents said this because they feared the Jews.” See how the evangelist again brings their opinion and judgment into the open. I say this because of that statement which they made earlier, saying that he makes himself equal to God: that if that too had been the opinion of the Jews and not the judgment of Christ, he would have added and said that it was the Jewish opinion. Since, then, they had referred them to the man who was healed, they called him a second time. And they do not say openly and shamelessly, “Deny that Christ healed you,” but they wish to bring this about under a pretext of piety: “Give glory to God,” they say. For to say to the parents, “Deny that he is your son and that you bore him blind,” seemed quite ridiculous; and to say this again to him was plain shamelessness. That is why they do not say it, but they go about it another way, saying, “Give glory to God,” that is, “Confess that this man did nothing.” “We know that this man is a sinner.” Why then did you not convict him when he said, “Which of you convicts me of sin?” And how do you know that he is a sinner? And when they said, “Give glory to God,” and this man said nothing [in reply], Christ, meeting him, praised him and did not blame him, nor did he say, “Why did you not give glory to God?”, but what? “Do you believe in the Son of God?”, so that you may learn that this is to give glory to God. If he were not equal in honor with the Father, this would not be glory. But since one who honors the Son is the one who honors the Father, naturally the blind man is not rebuked. So while they expected the parents to back away and deny, they said nothing to him; but when they saw that they had gained nothing more from this, they come back to him, saying, “This man is a sinner.” “He answered and said, ‘Whether he is a sinner I do not know; one thing I know, that though I was blind, now I see.’” Was the blind man afraid, then? Far from it. And how is it that he who said, “He is a prophet,” says, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know”? Not because he thought so or had persuaded himself of this, but wishing to free him from the charges by the testimony of the fact, not by his own voice, and to make the defense trustworthy, [the testimony from the benefit] being [beyond suspicion]. For when, after he had spoken at greater length, saying, “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing,” they were so indignant as to say, “You were born wholly in sins, and do you teach us?”, if he had said this from the beginning, what would they not have done, what would they not have said? “Whether he is a sinner I do not know,” as if he were saying, “I say nothing about this now, nor do I pronounce for the present; but this I know clearly and would firmly maintain, that if he were a sinner he would not have done such things.” In this way he made himself free of suspicion and his testimony impartial, as no longer doing a favor, but testifying from the fact. Since, then, they could not overturn or do away with what had happened, they come back again to the former point, busying themselves about the manner of the healing, like men searching on every side for prey securely laid up, running now here, now there. And they come back to the former words, so as to make them unsound by constant questioning, and they say, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” What then does he say? Having conquered and thrown them, he no longer speaks submissively. For as long as the matter needed examination and proofs, he offered the demonstration speaking with restraint; but when he had prevailed and won a brilliant victory, he then confidently trampled on them. And what does he say? “I told you once, and you did not listen; why do you want to hear it again?” Do you see the boldness of a beggar toward scribes and Pharisees? So strong is the truth, so weak is falsehood. For the one, even if it lays hold of ordinary men, makes them brilliant; the other, even if it is with the strong, shows them weak. What he means is this: “You do not attend to what is said; so I will speak no more, nor keep answering you, who ask to no purpose and wish to hear not in order to learn but in order to mock what is said.” “Do you too want to become his disciples?” For the present he ranked himself in the company of the disciples; for “Do you too?” belongs to one who shows himself to be a disciple. Then he ridiculed them and struck them sufficiently.

For since he knew that he was striking them hard, wishing to take hold of them excessively, he said this; which belonged to a soul that spoke freely, that had taken wing and looked down on their madness, that showed how great was the dignity of which he was so confident, and that made it plain that they were insulting one who was admirable, while he himself was not insulted, but seized as an honor what they offered as an insult. “You are his disciple,” they say, “but we are disciples of Moses.” But this would make no sense. For you are disciples neither of Moses nor of him. For if you were Moses’, you would have become his too. That is why Christ said to them earlier, “If you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote about me,” since they were always taking refuge in these words. “We know that God has spoken to Moses.” Who said so? Who reported it? “Our forefathers,” they say. Then is not the one who confirms by signs that he has come from God and speaks the things from above more trustworthy than your forefathers? And they did not say, “We have heard that God spoke to Moses,” but “We know.” You maintain, O Jews, as known what you have from hearsay; and do you think what comes from sight less than hearsay? And yet those things you did not see but heard, while these you did not hear but saw. What then does the blind man say? “Why, this is the marvel, that you do not know where he comes from, and yet he does such signs”: that a man who is not one of the learned among you, nor of the distinguished, nor of the renowned, can do such things; so that it is clear on every side that he is God, needing no human help. “We know that God does not listen to sinners.” For since they had said earlier, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?”, he now takes up their judgment too, reminding them of their own words. “This opinion,” he says, “is common to me and to you; abide by it, then.” And observe the wisdom. He keeps turning the sign around, since they could not take this away, and argues from it. Do you see that what he said at the beginning, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know,” he said not doubting (far from it), but knowing that he is not a sinner? Now, at any rate, when he had the opportunity, see how he defended him. “We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if anyone is God-fearing and does his will, him he hears.” Here he not only freed him from sins, but also shows him as greatly pleasing to God and doing all that is his. For since they called themselves God-fearing, he added, “and does his will.” “For it is not enough,” he says, “to know God; one must also do his will.” Then he exalts what had happened, saying, “Since the world began it has not been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind.” “If, then, you acknowledge that he does not listen to sinners, and this man worked a miracle, and such a miracle as no man ever worked, it is clear that he has surpassed all in virtue, and that his power is greater than a man’s.” What then do they say? “You were born wholly in sins, and do you teach us?” As long as they expected him to deny, they even thought him trustworthy, calling him once and a second time. But if you did not think him trustworthy, I would say to them, why did you call him and question him a second time? But since he spoke the truth, out of no respect for persons, when they ought most to have admired him, then they condemn him. What is “You were born wholly in sins”? Here they unsparingly reproach him even with his blindness, as if they were saying, “From your earliest age you have been in sins,” hinting that he had become blind for this reason, which made no sense. For this, at any rate, Christ consoled him, saying, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” “You were born wholly in sins, and do you teach us?” For what had the man said? Did he put forward his own opinion? Did he not examine a common judgment, saying, “We know that God does not listen to sinners”? Did he not bring into the open what you had said? “And they cast him out.” Do you see the herald of truth, how poverty was no hindrance to his wisdom? Do you see how much he heard from the very start, and how much he suffered, and how he bore witness by word and by deed? These things have been written so that we too may imitate them. For if the beggar, the blind man, who had not even seen him, showed such boldness at once, before Christ’s encouragement, standing up against an entire people that was thirsting for blood, possessed and raging, and wishing to condemn Christ by his voice, and did not yield nor give way, but with all boldness silenced them, and chose to be cast out rather than to betray the truth: how much more ought we, who have lived so long in the faith, who have seen countless wonders through faith, who have received greater benefits than he, who have recovered the sight of the eyes within and beheld the ineffable mysteries, and have been called to such honor, show all boldness on his behalf toward those who try to accuse and say anything against Christians, and silence them, and not simply let them off! And we shall be able to do this if we have boldness, and attend to the Scriptures, and do not hear them carelessly. For if anyone came in here attentively, even if he did not read at home, but attended to what is said here, even one year would be enough to give him great experience. For we do not read these Scriptures now and others tomorrow, but always the same, and continually. Yet nevertheless most are in such a wretched state that, after so much reading, they do not even know the names of the books; and they are not ashamed, nor do they shudder, at coming so carelessly into the divine auditorium. But if a lyre-player, or a dancer, or another of those from the stage summons the city, all run with eagerness, and are grateful to him for the summons, and spend the half of a whole day attending to him alone; but when God speaks to us through prophets and apostles, in summer the drought seems great, and we go to the marketplace; and in winter again, the rain is a hindrance and the mud, and we sit at home. And at the horse races, though there is no roof overhead to keep off the rain, most of them, while heavy showers pour down and the wind blows the water into their faces, stand there like madmen, despising cold and rain and mud and the length of the way, and nothing either keeps them at home or prevents them from going there; but here, though there is a roof overhead and wonderful warmth, they hang back and do not gather, and that for the gain of their own souls. How is this tolerable, tell me? That is why, being more experienced than anyone in those things, we are more ignorant than children in what is necessary. And if someone calls you a charioteer or a dancer, you say you have been insulted, and you do everything to wipe off the reproach; but if he draws you to watch the thing, you do not leap away; and the art whose name you flee, you pursue almost entirely. But where you ought to have both the thing and the name, to be and to be called a Christian, you do not even know what the thing is. What could be worse than this folly? I would like to say these things to you constantly, but I fear I may make myself hateful in vain and without gain. For I see people mad, not only the young but also the old; over whom I am most ashamed, when I see a man venerable for his gray hair putting his gray hair to shame and dragging a child along with him. For what is worse than this laughingstock? What more shameful than this deed? The child is taught by his father to behave disgracefully.

Do the words sting? This is just what I want: that you bear the pain that comes through words, so that you may be freed from the disgrace that comes through deeds. For there are some who are much colder than these, who are not even ashamed at what is said, but even spin out a long speech in defense of the practice. And if you ask who Amos is, or Obadiah, or what is the number of the prophets or of the apostles, they cannot even open their mouths; but about horses and charioteers they compose a defense more cleverly than sophists and orators. And after all this they say, “And what is the harm? What is the loss?” This is just why I groan, that you do not even know the thing to be a loss, nor have any perception of the evils. God has given you a fixed term of life to serve him; and you, spending it vainly and to no purpose and on nothing useful, still ask, what is the loss? If you spend a little money to no purpose, you call it a loss; but spending whole days on the pomps of Satan, do you think you do nothing wrong? When you ought to spend your whole life in litanies and prayers, you spend your life in shouting and uproar and shameful words, and fighting, and untimely pleasure, and works done by trickery, vainly and to your own harm; and after all this you ask, what is the loss? Not knowing that one must be more sparing of time than of anything else. If you spend gold, you can acquire it again; but if you lose time, you will hardly regain it. For little has been allotted to us in the present life. If, then, we do not use it as we ought, what shall we say when we depart there? For tell me, if you had ordered one of your sons to learn a trade, and then he stayed at home all the time, or spent his time somewhere else, would not the teacher have dismissed him? Would he not have said to you, “You made a contract with me and fixed a time. If, then, the boy is going to spend this time not with us but elsewhere, how shall we present him to you as a pupil?” These things we too must say. And God too will say to us, “I gave you time to learn this art, the art of piety; why did you spend this time vainly and to no purpose? Why did you not go to the teacher continually, nor attend to what was said?” For that piety is an art, hear what the prophet says: “Come, children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.” And again, “Blessed is the man whom you discipline, O Lord, and teach out of your law.” When, then, you spend this time vainly, what defense will you have? “And why,” someone says, “did he allot us little time?” O insensibility and ingratitude! For what you ought most to give thanks for, that he cut short your labors, curtailed your sweat, and made your rest long and immortal, for this you accuse him and complain? But I do not know how we have drawn out the discourse here and made it long. So it must be shortened again. For this too belongs to our misery: here, if the discourse is long, we all grow weary; but there, beginning at midday, they go home by torches and lamps. But so that we may not always accuse, we now urge and beg you: grant this favor both to us and to yourselves, and, freed from all other things, let us fasten ourselves to these. For we too shall gain from you joy and gladness, and pride in you, and the reward for these things; but you will reap the whole wage, because, though you were before this so madly fastened to the dancing floor, through the fear of God and our exhortation you tore yourselves away from that disease, loosed its bonds, and ran to God. And you will receive the reward not only there, but here too you will reap a pure pleasure. For such is virtue: together with the crowns there, it makes our life sweet here too. Let us, then, obey what has been said, so that we may attain the good things both here and there, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, to the ages of ages. Amen.