Homilies on John 61.1–61.2

“It was the feast of the Dedication in Jerusalem; it was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, ‘How long will you keep our souls in suspense?’” Every virtue is a good thing, but above all gentleness and meekness. This shows us to be men; this sets us apart from wild beasts; this prepares us to rival the angels. That is why Christ too continually spends many words on this virtue, commanding us to be meek and gentle. And he not only spends words, but teaches this by deeds too: now struck and bearing it, now reviled and plotted against, and again coming back to those who plot against him. For those who had called him possessed and a Samaritan, and had often wished to kill him, and had stoned him, these surrounded him and asked, “Are you the Christ?” And not even so did he repel them after so many and such great plots, but answered with great gentleness. But we must examine the whole passage from the beginning. “It was the feast of the Dedication in Jerusalem,” it says, “and it was winter.” This was a great and public feast. For they kept with great eagerness the day on which the temple was built, after they had returned from the long captivity in Persia. Christ too was present at this feast. For from now on he stayed continually in Judea, since the passion was at the doors. “So the Jews gathered around him and said, ‘How long will you keep our souls in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.’” And he did not say, “Why do you ask me? You have often called me possessed and mad and a Samaritan, and thought me an enemy of God and a deceiver; and just now you said, ‘You testify about yourself; your testimony is not true.’ How then do you inquire and wish to learn from me, whose testimony you reject?” He said none of these things, though he knew the wicked mind with which they were asking. For to surround him and say, “How long will you keep our souls in suspense?” seemed to belong to a certain longing and love of learning; but the mind with which they asked was corrupt and treacherous. For since his works admitted no slander or abuse, but they could find fault with his words, examining them otherwise than as they were spoken, they kept bringing questions, wishing to silence him by his words; and being unable to charge anything against his works, they longed to find some handle from his sayings. That is why they said, “Tell us,” though he had told them often. For he said to the Samaritan woman, “I who speak to you am he,” and to the blind man, “You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking with you.” And to them too he had said it, if not in this way, then in other words. And yet if they had had sense and wished to inquire rightly, it was now for them to confess him in words; for he himself had shown it by works many times. But as it is, consider their perversity and contentiousness. When he preaches and teaches by words, they say, “What sign do you show?” But when he offers the proofs by works, they say to him, “If you are the Christ, tell us plainly”: while the works cry out, they seek words; and when the words teach, they take refuge in the works, always standing on the opposite side. That they did not ask in order to learn, the end showed. For the one whom they thought so trustworthy as to accept him even when he testified about himself, they stoned at once when he had spoken a few words; so that their surrounding him and pressing him was done with wickedness. And the manner of the question was full of hostility. “Tell us plainly whether you are the Christ.” Yet he said everything plainly, always staying in the city at the feasts, and he said nothing in secret. But for this reason they put forward words of flattery, saying, “How long will you keep our souls in suspense?”, so that, having drawn him out, they might again find some handle. That everywhere they asked for this purpose, not to learn but to find fault with what was said, is clear not only from this but from many other places too. For when they came asking whether it is lawful to pay the census to Caesar or not, and when they discussed [divorcing] a wife, and when they inquired about the woman who they said had had seven husbands, they were caught bringing him questions not out of love of learning but out of a wicked mind. But there he refutes them, saying, “Why do you test me, hypocrites?”, showing that he knew their secrets; but here he says nothing of the kind, teaching us not always to refute those who plot against us, but to bear much with gentleness and meekness. Since, then, it was folly to seek the testimony of words when the works were proclaiming him, hear how he answers them, at once hinting that they were seeking these things superfluously and not in order to learn, and at once showing that he had given forth a voice clearer than that of words, the voice of the works. “I told you often,” he says, “and you do not believe me. The works that I do in my Father’s name, these bear witness about me.” Which the more reasonable among them too kept saying to one another: “For a man who is a sinner cannot do such signs”; and again, “A demon cannot open the eyes of the blind”; and, “No one can do such signs unless God is with him.” And seeing the signs that he did, they said, “Can this be the Christ?” And others said, “When the Christ comes, will he do more signs than this man has done?” And these very men wished to believe him on this basis, saying, “What sign do you show us, that we may see and believe you?”

Since, then, those who had not been persuaded by so many works pretended at that time to be persuaded by a bare word, he exposes their wickedness, saying, “If you do not believe the works, how will you believe the words?” So the question is superfluous. “But I told you,” he says, “and you do not believe me, because you are not of my sheep. For I have fulfilled on my part everything that a shepherd ought to do; and if you do not follow me, it is not because I am not a shepherd, but because you are not my sheep. ‘For my sheep,’” he says, “‘hear my voice and follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.’” See how in forbidding he urges them to follow him. “You do not hear me,” he says, “for you are not sheep; but those who follow are of the flock.” He said this so that they might strive to become sheep. Then, by saying what they will gain, he stirs them up, so as to rouse them and throw them into desire. What then? Does no one snatch them because of the Father’s power, while you are not strong, but too weak to guard them? By no means. And so that you may learn that “the Father, who has given them to me,” was said because of them, so that they might not again call him an enemy of God: having said, “No one shall snatch them out of my hand,” he went on to show that his own hand and the Father’s are one. For if it were not so, it would have been consistent to say, “The Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can snatch them out of my hand.” But he did not say so, but “out of my Father’s hand.” Then, so that you might not think that he himself is weak and that the sheep are safe because of the Father’s power, he added, “I and the Father are one,” as if he were saying, “I did not say that because of the Father no one snatches them, as though I were too weak to keep the sheep. For I and the Father are one,” speaking here of power; for his whole discourse was about this. And if the power is the same, it is clear that the essence is too. For since they did countless things, [plotting, casting him out of the synagogues, he] says that all their schemes are vain and to no purpose. “For the sheep are in my Father’s hand,” as the prophet says, “I have painted your walls on my hands.” Then, showing that the hand is one, he says it is sometimes his, sometimes the Father’s. And when you hear “hand,” do not think of anything bodily, but of power, of authority. And if no one snatched them because the Father strengthened him, it would have been superfluous to say next, “I and the Father are one.” For if he were less, this saying would be of great daring. For it shows nothing other than equality of power; which the Jews too understood, and [took up stones and] threw them at him. But not even so did he remove this opinion and suspicion. And yet if they had suspected wrongly, he ought to have corrected them and said, “Why do you do this? I did not say this testifying to an equal power for myself and the Father.” But as it is, he does entirely the opposite: he confirms the suspicion and strengthens it, and that while they were raging. For he does not defend his words as wrongly spoken, but even rebukes them for not having the opinion about him that was fitting. For since they said, “It is not for a good work that we stone you, but for blasphemy, because you, being a man, make yourself God,” hear what he says: “If he called them gods to whom the word of God came, how do you say that I blaspheme because I said, ‘I am the Son of God’?” What he means is this: “If those who received this by grace are not blamed for calling themselves gods, how could he who has it by nature justly be rebuked?” But he did not say it so; he established it later, having first relaxed and lowered his discourse, and said, “whom the Father consecrated and sent into the world”; and having soothed their anger, he then adds a clear declaration. For at first, so that the word might be received, he spoke more humbly; but later he led it up to the greater, saying, “If I am not doing the works of my Father, do not believe me; but if I do them, even if you do not believe me, believe the works.” Do you see how he establishes what I said, that he is in nothing less than he, but equal in every way? For since it was impossible to see his essence, he offers from the equality and sameness of the works the proof of exact likeness in power. And what are we to believe, tell me? “That I am in the Father and the Father in me.” “For I am nothing other than what the Father is, remaining Son; he is nothing other than what I am, remaining Father. And whoever knows me has known the Father, and has learned the Son.” But if the power were less, the knowledge too would be false. For it is not possible to learn one essence or one power through another. “They sought again to seize him, but he escaped from their hand. He went away again across the Jordan, to the place where John had been baptizing at first; and many came to him, and they said, ‘John did no sign, but everything that John said about this man was true.’” For whenever he says something great and lofty, he withdraws quickly, giving way to their anger, so that the passion might abate and cease through his absence; which he did then too. And why does the evangelist mention the place? So that you might learn that he went there for this reason, to remind them of what had happened there and been said by John, and of his testimony. Coming there, at any rate, they at once remembered John; that is why they say, “John did no sign”; otherwise what connection would there have been in adding this? But since the place brought the Baptist to their memory, they came also to the memory of his testimony. And see how they reason. “John,” they say, “did no sign, but this man does.” So from this too his superiority is shown. “If, then, we believed John when he did no sign, much more this man.” Then, since John was the one who testified, so that his not having done a sign might not seem to make his testimony unworthy, they added, “Even if he did no sign, yet everything he said about this man was true,” no longer showing this man trustworthy from John, but John trustworthy from what this man did. “And many believed in him there.” For many things drew them: they remembered the words John had spoken, calling him mightier than himself, and light, and life, and truth, and all the rest; and the voice that came from above, and the Spirit that appeared then in the form of a dove and pointed him out to all; and besides these, the proof from the miracles, looking to which they were now confirmed. “For if we had to believe John,” they say, “much more this man; if him without signs, much more this man, who has along with John’s testimony the proof from the signs.” Do you see how much the stay in that place and release from wicked men profited them? That is why he continually leads them out and away from their company; which he is seen to have done in the Old Testament too, forming and shaping the Jews in everything in the wilderness, far from the Egyptians. And he urges us to do this too, bidding us flee marketplaces and noise and tumult, and pray in the inner room in quiet. For a ship freed from turmoil sails with a fair wind, and a soul that is outside affairs sits in harbor. That is why women ought to be wiser than men, being mostly fastened to keeping the house. In this way, at any rate, Jacob became guileless, because he dwelt in a house and was free from the tumults of public life. For Scripture did not set this down without purpose when it said, “dwelling in a house.” “But there is much tumult in the house too,” someone says. Because you wish it, and surround yourself with a crowd of cares. For the husband, turning about in the midst of marketplaces and law courts, is swamped as by waves by the tumults outside; but the wife, sitting in the house as in a school of wisdom and gathering her mind into herself, will be able to attend to prayers and readings and the rest of the life of wisdom. And as those who live in the deserts have no one to trouble them, so she, being always inside, can continually enjoy calm. And if she must sometimes go out, not even then [is there need of] tumults. For women’s going out is necessary either for coming here or when the body must be cared for at the bath; but for most of the time she sits inside, and she can both practise wisdom herself and cut away the excesses and savage thoughts of her husband, and so send him out again, having laid aside the evils he drew from the marketplace and carrying with him the good things he learned at home. For nothing, nothing is more powerful than a pious and sensible wife for shaping a husband and molding his soul as she wishes. For he will bear neither friends, nor teachers, nor rulers so much as his wife when she admonishes and counsels him. For the admonition has a certain pleasure, because she who counsels is greatly loved. And I could name many hard and disobedient men who were softened in this way. For she shares with him table and bed and the begetting of children, and words spoken and unspoken, and goings in and out, and many other things, and is bound to him in everything, and so joined to him as a body is naturally joined to the head; if she happens to be wise and attentive, she will surpass all in caring for her husband. That is why I urge you to make this your work and to counsel what is right. For as she has great power for virtue, so also for wickedness. A woman destroyed Absalom, a woman destroyed Amnon, a woman [was about to destroy] Job, a woman [rescued Nabal from] the [slaughter]; a woman saved a whole nation. For Deborah and Judith showed achievements of men who are generals, and countless other women. That is why Paul too says, “For how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband?” And in those times we see Persis and Mary and Priscilla undertaking apostolic labors. [These, then,] you too should emulate, and shape your husband not only by words but by deeds too. And how shall we teach him by deeds? When he sees that you are not wicked, nor extravagant and fond of ornament, nor demanding superfluous supplies of money, but content with what you have. Then, then he will bear your counsel too. But if you practise wisdom in words but do the opposite in deeds, he will condemn you of much idle talk. But when along with words you also give him the teaching that comes from deeds, then he will both accept you and be the more persuaded: for instance, when you do not seek gold, nor pearls, nor costly garments, but instead of these, decorum, self-control, goodwill; and when you bring these things from yourself and demand them from him. For if one must do anything to please a husband, one must adorn the soul, not destroy the house. For gold hung about you will not make you so lovely and desirable to him as self-control and goodwill toward him and readiness to die for your husband. These things rather win husbands over. For that ornament even offends him, straitening his finances and giving him much expense and care; but the things mentioned will fasten the husband to the wife. For goodwill and friendship and longing give no cares and cause no expense, but entirely the opposite. And that ornament becomes stale through familiarity, but the ornament of the soul blooms every day and kindles a greater flame. So if you wish to please your husband, adorn your soul with self-control, piety, management of the house. These things win him over more, and never cease. Old age does not destroy this ornament; disease does not ruin it. For the ornament of the body is undone by long time and consumed by disease and many other things; but the things of the soul are above all these. And that ornament both has envy and kindles jealousy; but this is clean of disease and free of all vainglory. So too affairs in the house will be easier and income come with ease, when the gold is not hung about your body nor binding your hands, but is given up to necessary uses: for instance, the feeding of servants, the necessary care of children, and other useful purposes. But if this is not so, and it is hung about your face while his heart is wasting away, what is the gain? What the profit? His grief does not let him see her as wonderful. For you know, you know, that even if one sees the most beautiful of all women, he cannot take pleasure in her while his soul is in pain; for one who is to take pleasure must first rejoice and be glad. And when all the gold is heaped up for the adornment of the wife’s body, and there is straitness in the house, there is no pleasure for the husband. So if we wish to please our husbands, we shall put them in pleasure; and we shall put them in pleasure if we take away ornament and finery. For all these things seem to have some charm at the very time of the wedding procession, but later they wither with time. For if we do not admire as much, through familiarity, the heaven that is so beautiful and the sun so bright, to which you could name no body equal, how shall we admire a body decked out? I say these things wishing you to be adorned with the sound adornment which Paul commanded: “Not with gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness, with good works.” But do you wish to please those outside, and to be praised by them? In the first place, this longing does not belong to a self-controlled woman. But if you wish, you will have them too as ardent admirers and praisers of your self-control. For no one decent and moderate will praise that other woman, but only the licentious and lustful; or rather, not even these will praise her, but will even speak ill of her, having their eyes wounded by the woman’s extravagance; but this one both they and these, and all, [will praise,] receiving no harm, but even a lesson in wisdom; and great will be the praise from men, and great the reward with God. Let us, then, emulate this adornment, so that we may live here in security and attain the good things to come; may we all attain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.