Homilies on John 88.1–88.2

“When then they had eaten breakfast, Jesus says to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of Jonah, do you love me more than these?’ He says to him, ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.’” There are many other things too that can give us boldness toward God and show us illustrious and well approved; but what most of all procures us the goodwill from above is care for our neighbors; which is what Christ requires of Peter. For when their meal had come to an end, “Jesus says to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of Jonah, do you love me more than these?’ He says to him, ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.’ He says to him, ‘Feed my sheep.’” And why does he pass over the others and speak with this one about these things? He was the chosen one among the apostles, and the mouth of the disciples, and the head of the band; that is why Paul too went up at that time to visit him rather than the others. And at the same time, to show him that he must now be confident, since the denial had been wiped away, he entrusts to him the leadership of the brothers. And he does not bring up the denial, nor reproach him with what had happened; but he says: If you love me, preside over the brothers, and the warm love which you showed in everything, and in which you exulted, show it now; and the life which you said you would lay down for me, give it for my sheep. When then, having been asked once and a second time, he called as witness him who knows the secrets of the heart, and then was asked a third time, he was troubled, fearing again what had happened before (for then he had been confident and was afterward proved wrong); that is why he again takes refuge in him. For to say, “You know all things” means: things present and things to come. Do you see how he had become better and more sober, no longer self-willed and contradicting? For this is why he was troubled: perhaps I think that I love, but do not love; just as before, thinking and asserting many things, I was afterward proved wrong. And he asks a third time, and a third time gives the same command, showing how highly he values the leadership of his own sheep, and that this above all is the sign of love for him. And having spoken to him of his love for him, he foretells to him also the martyrdom which he was going to undergo, showing that he had not said what he said from distrust of him, but from great trust. Wishing to show the proof of love for him, and to teach us in what way above all we must love him, he says, “When you were younger, you girded yourself; but [when you are old, you will stretch out your hands,] and others will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” And yet he wished for this and desired it; and that is why he made it plain to him. For since he said again and again, “I will lay down my life for you,” and, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you,” he granted him his desire. What then is “where you do not wish”? He speaks of the feeling of nature, and of the constraint of the flesh, and that the soul is torn from the body unwillingly. So, even if his will was strong, yet even so nature was put to the test. For no one lays aside the body without suffering, God having arranged this, as I said before, for our benefit, so that violent deaths might not be many. For if, with things as they are, the devil has been able to do this and has led countless people to precipices and pits, if the soul had not had so great a desire for the body, many would quickly have rushed to it at any chance despondency. So “where you do not wish” is the word of one showing the natural feeling. And how, having said, “When you were younger,” does he say again, “When you are old”? For this is the word of one showing that he was not then young (for he was not), nor yet old, but a grown man. Why then did he remind him of his former life? To show that his own service is of this kind. For in worldly affairs the young man is useful and the old man useless; but in my affairs, he says, it is not so; but when old age comes, then the prowess is [more splendid], then the manliness more conspicuous, not hindered by age. And he said these things not to dismay him, but to rouse him; for he knew his longing, and that he had long been in labor with this good thing; and at the same time he shows the manner of his death. For since Peter always wished to be in the dangers on his behalf, Take courage, he says: I will so fill your desire that what you did not suffer while young you must suffer when old. Then the evangelist, rousing the hearer, added, “He said this signifying by what death he would glorify God.” He did not say, “he will die,” but “he will glorify God,” so that you may learn that to suffer for Christ is glory and honor to the one who suffers. “And having said this,” it says, “he says, ‘Follow me.’” Here again he hints at his care for him, and at his being very intimately disposed toward him. And if someone should say, How then did James receive the throne of Jerusalem?, I would say this, that he appointed this man teacher not of the throne but of the world. “Peter, turning, sees the disciple whom Jesus loved following, who also reclined at the supper on his breast; and he says, ‘Lord, and what about this man?’”

Why did he remind us of that reclining? Not without purpose nor by chance, but to show how much boldness Peter had after the denial. For he who once did not dare to ask, but left these things to another, was entrusted even with the leadership of the brothers. And not only does he not leave his own affairs to another, but he himself now puts a question to the Teacher on another's behalf; and John is silent, while he speaks. And here too he shows the love he had for him; for Peter loved John very much; and this is plain also from what came afterward, and through the whole Gospel their bond is shown, and in the Acts. Since then he had foretold great things to him, and had entrusted him with the world, and had proclaimed his martyrdom beforehand, and had testified that his love was greater than the others', wishing to take this man too as a partner, he says, “And what about this man? Will he not come by the same road as we?” And as then, unable to ask himself, he put this man forward, so now, returning the favor, and thinking that he wished to ask about his own affairs but did not dare, he himself took up the question. What then does Christ say? “If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you?” Since he spoke out of great concern, not wishing to be separated from him, Christ, showing that however much he might love him he does not reach his own love for him, says, “If I want him to remain, what is that to you?”, teaching us by this not to be vexed, nor to be curious about anything beyond what seems good to him. For since Peter was always ardent in such questions and leapt ahead, cutting short his ardor again and teaching him not to inquire further, he says this. “So this saying went out among the brothers,” that is, the disciples, “that that disciple does not die. Yet Jesus did not say that he does not die, but, ‘If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you?’” For do not think, he says, that I manage your affairs in one way. He did this because of their untimely attachment to one another. For since they were about to undertake the charge of the world, they ought no longer to be bound up with one another; for this would have been a great loss to the world. That is why he says to him: You have been entrusted with a work; look to it, accomplish it, contend, strive. For what if I do wish him to remain here? Look to your own affairs and care for them. But consider here too the evangelist's freedom from vanity. For having stated the disciples' opinion, he corrects it, as though they had not understood what he said. “For Jesus did not say,” he says, “that he will not die, but, ‘If I want him to remain.’” “This is the disciple who bears witness about these things and has written these things; and we know that his witness is true.” Why is it that, when none of the others does this, he alone says these things, and does so a second time, bearing witness to himself, which seems to offend the hearers? What then is the cause? It is said that he came to write later, God having moved and roused him to this; that is why he continually shows his love, hinting at the cause from which he set out to write. That is why he mentions it continually, making his account trustworthy, and showing that he came to this moved from there. And I know, he says, that what he says is true; and if the many do not believe, they may believe from this. From what? From what is said next: “For there are also many other things which Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that not even the world itself could contain the books that would be written.” From which it is plain that I would not have written to please. For one who, though there were so many things, did not relate even as many as the others, but left out most of them, and set forth the plots of the Jews, the stonings, the hatred, the insults, the revilings, and showed how they called him demon-possessed and a deceiver, plainly would not have written to please. For one who wrote to please ought to have done the opposite, to hide what was shameful and put forward what was splendid. Since then he wrote what he wrote from full assurance, he does not decline to bring forward his own testimony, challenging them to examine and test each of the things that happened. For it is our custom, when we are sure that we speak the truth, never to refuse our own testimony. And if we do this, much more he who wrote by the Spirit; which is what the other apostles too said when preaching: “We are witnesses,” it says, “of what we say, and so is the Spirit, whom he has given to those who obey him.” And he was present at everything, and did not leave even when he was being crucified, and was entrusted with the mother; all of which are signs of his love for him and of his knowing everything exactly. And if he said that so many signs were done, do not wonder; but considering the unspeakable power of the one who did them, accept what is said with faith. For as it is easy for us to speak, so for him, or rather much more easily, he does what he wished. For it was enough only to will, and all things followed. Let us then attend exactly to what has been said; for from continual reading we gain something more. So shall we be able to cleanse our own life, so to cut out the thorns. For such is sin and worldly care, fruitless and painful. And as the thorn, wherever it is held, pricks the one who holds it, so worldly things, wherever you hold them, grieve the one who clasps them and cherishes them. But spiritual things are not of this kind, but are like a pearl: wherever you turn it, it delights the eyes. I mean something like this: someone has given alms; he is nourished not only by the hope of the future, but also delights in the good things here, being confident everywhere and doing everything with great boldness. He has overcome a wicked desire, and [already reaps] the fruit [here], before the kingdom, being praised, being admired before all others by his own conscience. And every good work is of this kind, just as wicked works the conscience punishes here, even before Gehenna. If [after sinning you consider] the future, [you are afraid and tremble,] though no one punishes; whether the present, you have many enemies and live under suspicion, and will no longer be able to look in the face those you have wronged, or rather even those you have not wronged. For we do not reap so much pleasure from these things as despondency, when the conscience cries out against us, men outside condemn us, God is provoked, Gehenna is in labor to receive us, and our thoughts give us no rest. For sin is heavy, heavy and burdensome, and harder than any lead. He who perceives it, at any rate, will not be able to look up even a little, however insensible he may be. So Ahab, very impious though he was, when he perceived it, walked bowed down, put on sackcloth, and let fountains of tears flow. If we do this, and mourn as he did, and strip off our offenses as Zacchaeus did, we too shall obtain some pardon. For as with swellings and fistulas, unless one first stops the humor that flows in and inflames the wound, whatever medicines he applies, as long as the source of the evil is not checked, he does everything in vain, so we too, unless we stop the hand of greed and check this wicked inflow, even if we give alms, do everything in vain. For greed, coming on, has flooded and spoiled what was healed by almsgiving, and made it worse than before. Let us then stop seizing, and so show mercy. But if we carry ourselves to precipices, how shall we be able to breathe again? For if someone were pulling a man who is about to fall from above (which is what almsgiving is), and another were forcing him down from below, nothing more will come of such a struggle than that the man is torn apart. So that we may not suffer this, and so that almsgiving may not [leave us] while greed weighs us down from below, [let us lighten ourselves,] so that, perfected by deliverance from evils and by the working of eternal good things, we may obtain the eternal good things, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, might, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and for ever and ever. Amen.