Homilies on John 64.1–64.2

“And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the crowd standing around,’” and so on. What I have often said I will say now too: Christ does not look so much to his own dignity as to our salvation; nor to how he may say something great, but to what can draw us. That is why the lofty and great things are few, and these hidden, while the humble and lowly things abound in his words. For since they were led on more by these, he dwells on these; and he neither speaks the former throughout, so that those afterwards might not be harmed, nor keeps silent about them, so that those of that time might not be offended. For those who have come out of lowliness will be able to see the whole even from one lofty doctrine; but those who are always lowly, if they had not heard these things often, would not have come to him at all. Indeed, not even after so many words do they stay; they stone him and persecute him and try to kill him and call him a blasphemer. And when he makes himself equal to God, they say, “This man blasphemes”; and when he says, “Your sins are forgiven,” they even call him possessed; as also when [he says] that whoever hears his words is stronger than death, or when he says, “I am in the Father, and the Father in me,” they abandon him; and again they are offended when he says that he has come down from heaven. If, then, they could not bear these things, said rarely, how much less, if his discourse had been lofty throughout and woven in that way, would they have paid attention to him? When, at any rate, he says, “As the Father commanded me, so I speak,” and, “I have not come of myself,” then they believe. And that they believe then is clear from the evangelist’s noting this and saying, “As he spoke these things, many believed in him.” If, then, speaking humbly drew them to faith, while speaking loftily drove them away, how is it not the utmost folly not to reckon that the whole reason for the humble sayings is that they were spoken because of the hearers? For elsewhere too, wishing to say something great, he kept silent, setting forth this reason and saying, “But so that we may not offend them, cast a hook into the sea”; which he does here too. For after saying, “I knew that you always hear me,” he added, “But I said this on account of the crowd standing around, that they may believe.” Are the words ours? Are they human conjecture? When, then, someone will not be persuaded from what is written that they were offended at the lofty things, though he hears Christ saying that he speaks humbly for this reason, so that they may not be offended, how [can he still think] that the lowly things belong to his nature? So too elsewhere, when a voice came from above, he said, “This voice has come not for my sake, but for yours.” And indeed one who is lofty may say many humble things about himself; but one who is humble may not say anything great and lofty about himself. For the former comes from condescension, and has as its reason the weakness of those being taught; or rather, looking to lead them to humility, and his being clothed in flesh, and teaching his hearers to say nothing great about themselves, and his being thought an enemy of God, and being disbelieved to have come from God, and being suspected of breaking the law, and the envy of the hearers and their hostility toward him because he called himself equal to God. But for one who is humble to say something lofty about himself has no reason, neither reasonable nor unreasonable; it would only be madness and shamelessness and unpardonable daring. Why then does he speak humbly, being of that ineffable and great essence? For the reasons stated, and so that he might not be thought unbegotten. For Paul too is seen to have feared something of the kind. That is why he said, “except him who put all things in subjection to him.” For it is impious even to think this. For if, being less than the one who begot him and of another essence, he was thought equal, would he not have done everything so that this might not be thought? But as it is, he does the opposite, saying, “If I am not doing the works of him who sent me, do not believe me.” And by saying, “I am in the Father, and the Father in me,” he hints to us at the equality. But he ought to have overthrown this with great vehemence, if indeed he was inferior, and never to have said at all, “I am in the Father, and the Father in me,” or, “We are one,” or, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” For when he was speaking of power he said, “I and the Father are one.” And when he was speaking of authority, again he said, “For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will”; which it was not possible for one of another essence to do. And even if it were possible, he ought not to have said it, so that they might not suspect that the essence was one and the same. For if, so that they might not suspect that he was an enemy of God, he often says even things that do not befit him, much more ought he to have done so then. But as it is, to say, “that they may honor the Son as they honor the Father,” and to say, “The works that he does, I also do likewise,” and to call himself the resurrection and the life and the light of the world, belongs to one who makes himself equal to the one who begot him, and confirms the suspicion they had. Do you see how, to show that he does not break the law, he says so much and makes a defense; but the opinion of his equality with the Father he not only does not overthrow, but even confirms? So too, when they said, “You blaspheme, because you make yourself God,” he confirmed it from the equality of the works.

And why do I say that the Son did this, when even the Father, who did not take flesh, does this very thing? For he too has allowed many humble things to be said about him for the salvation of the hearers. For “Adam, where are you?”, and “that I may know whether they have done according to their cry,” and “Now I know that you fear God,” and “If perhaps they will hear,” and “If perhaps they will understand,” and “Who will give that the heart of this people be so?”, and the saying “There is none like you among the gods, O Lord,” and many other such things in the Old Testament, if anyone gathers them, he will find unworthy of God’s dignity. And of Ahab it is said, “Who will deceive Ahab for me?” And his always setting himself in comparison with the gods of the Greeks is all unworthy of God; but it becomes worthy in another way. For he is so loving toward humankind that for our salvation he overlooked even words befitting his dignity. For indeed his very becoming man is unworthy, and taking the form of a slave, and speaking humble words, and being clothed in humble things, unworthy if one looks to that dignity; but worthy if one reckons the unspeakable wealth of his love for humankind. And there is another reason for the humbleness of the words. What is it? That they both knew and acknowledged the Father, but did not know him. That is why he continually takes refuge in him as acknowledged, since he himself was not yet trusted; not because of his own lowliness, but because of the folly and weakness of the hearers. That is why he prays and says, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” For if he gives life to whom he will, and gives life as the Father does, why does he entreat? But now it is time to come to the passage itself. “So they took away the stone from where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the crowd standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.’” Let us ask the heretic, then: Did he receive strength from the prayer and raise the dead man? How then did he do the other things without prayer, saying, “I say to you, demon, come out of him,” and, “I will; be clean,” and, “Take up your bed,” and, “Your sins are forgiven,” and to the sea, “Be silent, be still”? And what more has he at all than the apostles, if he too acts by prayer? Or rather, not even they did everything with prayer, but often without prayer, calling on the name of Jesus. And if his name had such power, how would he himself have needed prayer? And if he needed prayer, his name would not have had power. And when he made man in the first place, what prayer did he need? Is there not great equality of honor there? “Let us make man,” he says. And what is weaker than one who needs prayer? But let us see what the prayer is: “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” Who ever prayed in this way? For before saying anything, he says, “I thank you,” showing that he does not need prayer. “I knew that you always hear me.” He said this not as being himself unable, but as their will being one. Why then did he take the form of prayer? Hear not me, but him, saying, “on account of the crowd standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” He did not say, “that they may believe that I am less, that I need strength from above, that I cannot act without prayer,” but “that you sent me.” For prayer shows all these things, if we take it simply. He did not say, “You sent me, the weak one, the one who knows slavery, the one who does nothing of himself”; but, leaving all these aside so that you may suspect none of them, he states the true reason for the prayer: “so that they may not think me an enemy of God, so that they may not say, ‘He is not from God,’ so that I may show that the work is done according to your will”; all but saying, “If I were an enemy of God, what is done would not have succeeded.” And “you have heard me” is said of friends and of equals. “I knew that you always hear me”: that is, “I do not need prayer for my will to be done, but to persuade them that you and I have one will.” Why then do you pray? For the sake of the weak and duller. “And having said this, he cried out with a loud voice.” Why did he not say, “In the name of my Father, come out”? Why did he not say, “Raise him, Father”? But leaving all these aside and taking the form of one who prays, he shows his authority by deeds. Because this too belongs to his wisdom: to show condescension by words and authority by works. For since they had nothing else to charge against him but that he was not from God, and so deceived the many, for this reason he shows this very thing exceedingly, both by what he says and in the manner their weakness demanded. For it was possible to show their agreement in another way too, consistent with his own dignity; but the crowd could not rise so high. And he says, “Lazarus, come out.” This is what he said: “The hour is coming when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live.” For so that you might not think that he received the power from another, he taught you this beforehand and showed it by works. And he did not say, “Arise,” but “Come out,” speaking to the dead man as to one living. What could equal this authority? And if he does not do this by his own power, what more will he have than the apostles, who say, “Why do you look at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk?” For if he, not acting by his own power, did not add what the apostles said about themselves, those men will somehow be wiser, in repelling the glory. And elsewhere: “Men, why are you doing these things? We too are men of like nature with you.” Then the apostles, since they did nothing of themselves, said these things to convince people of this; but he, having such an opinion about himself, would not have removed the suspicion if he did not act by his own authority? And who would say this? And yet Christ does the opposite, saying, “I said this on account of the crowd standing around, that they may believe.” So if they had believed, there would have been no need of prayer. But if praying was not unworthy of him, why does he ascribe the reason to them? And why did he not say, “that they may believe that I am not equal to you”? For he ought to have come to this because of their suspicion. But when he was suspected of breaking the law, he put the very words, though they had said nothing: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law”; but here he confirms the suspicion. And in general, what need was there of so much circling and of riddles? It would have been enough to say, “I am not equal,” and be done. “What then?” someone says. “Did he not say, ‘I do not do my own will’?” But this too was veiled and for their weakness, and from the same cause as the prayer. And what is “you have heard me”? That is, “There is nothing contrary between me and you.” As, then, “you have heard me” does not show that he himself was unable (for if it did, it would be not only weakness but also ignorance, if before praying he did not know what God was going to grant; and if he did not know, how did he say, “I go to wake him”, and not say, “I go to pray to the Father to wake him”?), as, then, this is not of weakness but of oneness of mind, so too is “You always hear me.” One may say either this, or that it was said with reference to their suspicion. And if he was neither ignorant nor weak, it is clear that he speaks the humble words for this reason, so that even from the excess you may be persuaded and compelled to confess that it belongs not to his dignity, but to his condescension. What then do the enemies of the truth say? “He said ‘You have heard me,’” they say, “not with reference to the weakness of the hearers, but to show his superiority.” And yet this was not to show superiority, but to humble himself greatly and to show that he had nothing more than a man. For praying is not befitting God, nor one who shares the throne. Do you see that he came to this from no other cause than their unbelief? See, at any rate, the deed too bearing witness to his authority. He called, and the dead man came out bound. Then, so that the thing might not seem to be an illusion (for coming out bound seemed no less strange than rising), he commanded them to loose him, so that, touching him and coming near, they might see that it was truly he. And he says, “Let him go.” Do you see his freedom from boasting? He does not take him along with him, nor bid him go about with him, so that he might not seem to some to be making a display; so well did he know how to be moderate. When the sign had taken place, some admired him, but others went and reported to the Pharisees. What then did they do? When they ought to have been astonished and to have admired him, they take counsel to kill the one who had raised a dead man. O folly! They thought they would hand over to death the one who had overcome death in the bodies of others. And they say, “What are we doing? For this man performs many signs.” They still call him a man, after receiving such a proof of his Godhead. “What are we doing?” They ought to have believed and served and worshiped, and no longer thought him a man. “If we let him go on like this, the Romans will come and take away both our nation and our city.” What is it they are planning to do? They wish now to stir up the people, as though they were going to be in danger on a suspicion of tyranny. “For if the Romans learn that he is gathering crowds,” they say, “they will suspect us, and will come and destroy our city.” Why, tell me? Did he teach revolt? Did he not allow tribute to be paid to Caesar? Did you not wish to make him king, and he fled? Did he not show a lowly and unpretentious life, having neither house nor anything else of the kind? They said this, then, not expecting it, but out of envy. And it came about, though they did not expect it, and the Romans took both the nation and the city, because they killed him. For the things that happened were far from all suspicion. For one who heals the sick and teaches the best life and commands obedience to rulers was not establishing tyranny but destroying it. “But we conjecture from earlier cases,” they say. But those men taught revolt; this man the opposite. Do you see that what was said was hypocrisy? For what chariots did he drag about with him? Did he not seek the deserts? But so that they might not seem to speak from their own passion, they say that the whole city is in danger, that the commonwealth is being plotted against, and that their fear is about the gravest matters. It was not these things that caused your captivity, but the opposite, both this one and the one in Babylon and the one under Antiochus afterwards. It was not having among you those who heal, but having among you those who do wrong and provoke God, that handed you over. But such is envy: it lets one see nothing of what is needed, once it has blinded the soul. Did he not teach men to be meek? When struck on the right cheek, to turn the other also? To bear being wronged? To show greater eagerness for suffering wrong than others have for doing wrong? Tell me, are these the marks of one establishing tyranny, and not of one destroying tyranny? But, as I said, envy is a terrible thing and full of hypocrisy. This has filled the world with countless evils; from this disease the law courts are filled with litigants; from this comes the love of glory and money; from this, love of rule and arrogance; from this the roads have foul robbers and the sea pirates; from this come the murders throughout the world; from this our race has been torn apart. Whatever evil you see, you will see that it comes from this. This has flooded even into the churches; this from of old has worked countless terrible things; this has given birth to the love of money; this disease has turned things upside down and corrupted justice (“For gifts,” it says, “blind the eyes of the wise, and as a bit in the mouth turn away reproofs”); this makes slaves instead of free men. About this we speak every day, and nothing more comes of it. We become worse than wild beasts: we plunder orphans, strip widows, wrong the poor, add woe upon woe. Alas! “The godly man has perished from the earth.” And it remains for us to lament; or rather, we must say this every day. We accomplish nothing by prayers, nothing by counsels and exhortations; it remains, then, to weep. Christ too did this: having exhorted those in Jerusalem much, when they gained nothing, he wept over their hardness. The prophets too do this; this we too do now. It is now the time of lamentation and tears and wailing. It is fitting for us too to say now, “Call the mourning women, and send to the wise women, and let them utter their voice.” Perhaps in this way we shall be able to cast out the disease of those who build splendid houses, of those who encompass fields by robbery. It is a fitting time to lament; but join with me in the laments, you who have been stripped and wronged; with your laments draw down my tears. But lamenting, let us lament not ourselves but them; they did not wrong you, but destroyed themselves. For you have the kingdom of heaven in return for the wrong; they, hell in return for their gain. That is why it is better to be wronged than to do wrong. Let us lament them with a lament not human, but from the divine Scriptures, such as the prophets lamented. Let us lament bitterly with Isaiah, and say, “Woe to those who join house to house and add field to field, so as to take something from their neighbor! Will you dwell alone on the earth? Great and fine houses, and there will be no one dwelling in them.” Let us lament with Nahum, and say with him, “Woe to him who builds his house on high!” Or rather, let us lament them as Christ lamented those of his time, saying, “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your reward and your consolation.” So, I beg you, let us not cease lamenting, and, if it is not unseemly, beating our breasts for the slackness of our brothers. Let us not weep for one already dead, but weep for the robber, the greedy, the lover of money, the insatiable. Why do we lament the dead, about whom nothing more can be accomplished? Let us lament these, in whom there is still a change. But while we lament, perhaps they laugh. But this too is worthy of lament, that they laugh at what they ought to mourn. For if they were moved by our laments, we ought to stop lamenting, since they were going to be corrected; but since they are insensible, let us remain weeping, not for the rich simply, but for the lovers of money, the greedy, the robbers. Wealth is not an evil (for one may use it as one should, when we spend it on those in need), but greed is an evil, procuring undying punishments. Let us lament, then. For perhaps there will be some correction; or even if those who have fallen in are not freed, at least others will not fall into the terrible thing, but will guard themselves. May those too be freed from the disease, and may none of us ever fall into it, so that we may all together attain the promised good things, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.