Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 20.1–20.6

“And when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, of a sad countenance; for they disfigure their faces, so that they may appear to men to be fasting.” It is well here to groan aloud and wail bitterly. For we not only imitate the hypocrites, but have even surpassed them. For I know, I know many who not only fast and make a display of it, but who do not fast and put on the masks of those who fast, and put forward an excuse worse than the sin. “I do this,” he says, “so as not to scandalize the many.” What are you saying? It is a divine law that commands these things, and you talk of scandal? And do you think that by keeping it you scandalize, and by transgressing it you free others from scandal? What could be worse than this unreason? Will you not stop becoming worse even than the hypocrites and working a double hypocrisy? And considering the great excess of this vice, will you not be ashamed at the force of this expression? For he did not say that they play the hypocrite only, but, wishing to strike at them more strongly, “for they disfigure their faces,” that is, they corrupt them, they destroy them. And if appearing pale for vainglory is disfigurement of the face, what should we say of the women who corrupt their faces with paints and pencilings to the ruin of licentious young men? For those harm only themselves, but these both themselves and those who see them. That is why we must flee both this ruin and that one with great abundance. For he bade us not only not to make a display, but even to be eager to escape notice; which he did earlier too.

And in the case of almsgiving he did not put it simply, but having said, “Take heed not to do it before men,” he added, “to be seen by them”; but in the case of fasting and prayer he made no such qualification. Why ever? Because it is altogether impossible for almsgiving, but possible for prayer and fasting [to be hidden]. As, then, when he said, “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,” he was not speaking about hands but about the need to escape the notice of all with precision; and when he bade us go into the inner room, he did not command us to pray there only, or primarily, but hinted at the same thing again; so here too, in bidding us anoint ourselves, he did not legislate that we should by all means anoint ourselves; since then we shall all be found transgressing this law, and above all those who have been most eager to keep it, the companies of the monks who have taken possession of the mountains. This, then, is not what he commanded; but since among the ancients it was the custom to anoint themselves continually when they were glad and rejoicing (and one could see this clearly from David and from Daniel), he said to anoint ourselves, not that we should by all means do this, but that we should be eager in every way to hide this possession with great precision. And so that you may learn that this is so, he himself, showing in deeds what he commanded in words, when he fasted forty days, and fasted while escaping notice, neither anointed himself nor washed; but nevertheless, though he did not do these things, he accomplished the whole entirely without vainglory. This, then, he commands us too, both bringing the hypocrites into the middle and turning his hearers away by a double precept.

And he hinted at something else too by this name, I mean that of the hypocrites. For he draws them away from the wicked desire not only because the thing is ridiculous, nor because it carries the utmost loss, but also by showing that such deceit is temporary. For the actor appears splendid only so long as the theater is seated; or rather, not even then to all. For most of the spectators know who he is and whom he is playing. But when the theater is dismissed, he is revealed more clearly to all. This, then, the vainglorious too must by all necessity undergo. For even here they are evident to most, that they are not what they appear but wear a mask; but much more will they be caught afterward, when all things appear naked and laid bare. And from another side too he draws them away from the hypocrites, by showing the command to be light. For he does not intensify the fasting, nor bid them show a greater one, but bids them not lose the crown that comes from it. So what seems burdensome is common to us and the hypocrites, for they too fast; but what is lightest, not losing the reward after toiling, this is what I command, he says; adding nothing to the toils, but gathering the rewards for us in all safety, and not letting us go away uncrowned as they do. And they will not even imitate those who wrestle in the Olympic games, who, though so great a people and so many rulers are seated there, wish to please one man, the one who awards them the victory, although he is much inferior. But you, who have a double reason for displaying your victory to him, both because he is himself the judge of the contest and because he incomparably surpasses all who sit in the theater, display yourself to others who not only do not benefit you at all, but even harm you greatly.

“However, I do not forbid even this,” he says. “If you want to display yourself to men too, wait, and I will grant you this too with greater abundance and much gain. For now this tears you away from the glory with me, just as despising these things glues you to it; but then you will enjoy everything in complete security, reaping no small fruit even here before those things: trampling on all human glory, being freed from the grievous slavery of men, and becoming a genuine worker of virtue.” For as it is, being so disposed, if you come into a desert you will be destitute of all virtue, not having anyone to watch. This belongs to one who insults virtue itself, if you are going to pursue it not for its own sake but for the rope maker and the coppersmith and the great crowd of the marketplace, so that the wicked and those far from it may admire you; and you call the enemies of virtue to the display and spectacle of it; as if someone should choose chastity not because of the beauty of chastity but to show himself to harlots. So you too would not have chosen virtue except for the sake of virtue’s enemies, when you ought to admire it for this very reason, that it has even its enemies as praisers; and to admire it, as one should, not for others’ sake but for itself. For we too, when we are loved not for ourselves but for others, think the thing an insult. Reckon this, then, in the case of virtue too; and neither pursue it for others’ sake, nor obey God for men’s sake, but obey men for God’s sake; since if you do the opposite, even if you seem to pursue virtue, you have provoked him equally with the one who does not pursue it. For as he disobeyed by not doing it, so you by doing it unlawfully.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth.” For since he had cast out the disease of vainglory, he now opportunely brings in the discourse about poverty. For nothing so prepares men to love money as the love of glory. It is for this, at any rate, that men devise herds of slaves and swarms of eunuchs and horses with trappings of gold and silver tables and other things still more ridiculous: not to fill a need, nor to enjoy pleasure, but to display themselves to the many. Above, then, he said only that we must show mercy; but here he shows how much mercy we must show, saying, “Do not lay up treasures.” For since it was not possible at the beginning to bring in all at once the discourse about despising money, because of the tyranny of the passion, cutting it into parts little by little and setting them free, he instills it in the minds of his hearers so that it may be easily received. That is why first he said, “Blessed are the merciful”; and after this, “Be well disposed toward your adversary”; and after that again, “If anyone wants to go to law with you and take your tunic, give him your cloak too”; but here, what is much greater than all those. For there he said, “If you see a lawsuit pressing on you, do this; for it is better to be rid of the fight by not having than to fight while having.” But here, putting neither an adversary nor a litigant, nor mentioning anything else of the kind, he teaches contempt of money in itself, showing that he legislates these things not so much for the sake of those who receive mercy as for the sake of the giver; so that even if there is no one to wrong us and drag us into court, even so we should despise what we have, giving it to those in need. And not even here has he put the whole, but here too gently, although he had shown the contests about these things with great intensity in the desert. But nevertheless he does not put this forward, nor bring it into the open, for it was not yet the time to reveal it; but meanwhile he examines reasonings, keeping in his words about these things the rank of a counselor rather than of a lawgiver. For having said, “Do not lay up treasures on earth,” he added, “where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break in and steal.” Meanwhile he shows the harm of the treasure here and the benefit of the one there, both from the place and from the things that spoil it. And he does not stop here either, but brings another reasoning. And first he urges them from the very things they most fear. “For what do you fear?” he says. “That your money will be spent if you give alms? Then give alms, and then it will not be spent; and, what is greater, not only will it not be spent, but it will even receive a greater increase; for the things in heaven are added.” But for the time being he does not say these things, but puts it later. For the time being

he brings into the open what would most urge them on, that their treasure remains unspent, and he draws them from both sides. For he did not say only that if you give alms it is kept, but threatened the opposite too, that if you do not give, it perishes. And see the unspeakable wisdom. For he did not say, “You leave it to others” (since this too is pleasant to men); but nevertheless he frightens them from another side, showing that they do not attain even this; for even if men do not wrong them, there are those who will certainly wrong them, the moth and the rust. For even if this ruin seems very easily overcome, it is nevertheless invincible and not to be restrained; whatever you devise, you will not be able to check this harm. “What then, does the moth consume gold?” If not the moth, thieves. “What then, have all been robbed?” If not all, most. That is why, as I said before, he brings in another reasoning too, saying, “Where a man’s treasure is, there will his heart be also.” “For even if none of these things happens,” he says, “you will suffer no small harm, nailed to the things below, becoming a slave instead of a free man, falling away from heavenly things, and able to think of nothing lofty, but everything money and interest and loans and gains and slavish trading.” What could be more wretched than this? For such a man will be in a worse state than any slave, drawing upon himself a most grievous tyranny, and betraying the most vital thing of all, the nobility and freedom of man. For however much one talks to you, while your mind is nailed to money you will be able to hear nothing that concerns you; but like a dog tied to a tomb, by the tyranny of money, more grievous than any chain, barking at all who approach, you have this one continual work, to keep for others what lies there. What could be more wretched than this?

But nevertheless, since this was too lofty for the minds of his hearers, and neither its harm was easy for most to perceive nor its gain plain, but it needed a more philosophic mind to see both, he set it after those plain things, saying, “Where a man’s treasure is, there will his heart be also”; and he makes it clearer again, bringing the discourse from intelligible things to things of sense, and saying, “The lamp of the body is the eye.” What he means is this: do not bury gold in the earth, nor anything else of the kind; for you are gathering it for the moth and the rust and the thieves. And even if you escape these harms, you will not escape having your heart enslaved and nailed to all the things below; “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” As, then, by storing it in heaven you reap not only this, obtaining the prizes for these things, but from here already you receive the reward of the heavens (for you receive a reward by moving your anchorage there, minding the things there, and caring for the things there; for where you have deposited your treasure, it is clear that you transfer your mind too), so if you do this on earth, you will suffer the opposite. And if what has been said is obscure to you, hear what follows: “The lamp of the body is the eye. If, then, your eye is single, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is evil, your whole body will be full of darkness. If, then, the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” He brings the discourse out to more sensible things. For since he had mentioned the mind as enslaved and taken captive, and this was not easy for many to perceive, he transfers the teaching to things outside and before the eyes, so that from these they may understand those too. “For if you do not know,” he says, “what harm of the mind is, learn it from bodily things; for what the eye is to the body, this the mind is to the soul. As, then, you would not choose to wear gold and be clothed with silk garments while your eyes are maimed, but think their health more desirable than all such abundance (for if you lose and destroy it, the rest of life is of no use to you; for as when the eyes are blinded, most of the activity of the other members is gone, their light quenched, so too when the mind is destroyed your life will be filled with countless evils); as, then, in the body we aim at this, to have the eye healthy, so in the soul, the mind. But if we maim this, which ought to provide light for the others too, from where shall we see clearly any longer? For as he who removes the spring has dried up the river, so he who has destroyed the mind has troubled all his activity in this life.” That is why he says, “If the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” For when the pilot is sunk, and the lamp quenched, and the general taken captive, what hope will there be for the subjects any longer?

That is why, leaving aside for now the plots that come through wealth, the fights, the lawsuits (for he hinted at these above, saying, “Your adversary will hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer”), he sets down what is more grievous than all these and certainly happens, and so draws them away from the wicked desire. For to have the mind enslaved to this disease is much more grievous than living in prison; and the latter does not always happen, but the former is allotted inseparably to the desire for money. That is why he sets it after that, as being more grievous and as certainly happening. “For God,” he says, “gave us a mind so that we may scatter ignorance and have a right judgment of things, and, using it like a weapon and a light against all that pains and harms, may remain in safety. But we betray the gift for superfluous and useless things.” For what use are soldiers with trappings of gold when the general is dragged away captive? What gain is there in a ship adorned when the pilot is sunk? And what more is a well-formed body when the eyes have had their sight cut out? As, then, if someone threw into sickness the physician who ought to be healthy in order to cure diseases, and bade him lie on a silver bed in a golden chamber, it would be of no use to the sick; so if, having destroyed the mind that can cure the passions, you set it down beside a treasure, you have not only profited nothing but have suffered the greatest loss and harmed the whole soul. Do you see how everywhere, by the very things through which men most desire wickedness, he draws them most away from it and leads them back to virtue? “For why do you desire money?” he says. “Is it not to enjoy pleasure and luxury? This, then, above all you will not have from it, but quite the opposite. For if, when our eyes are put out, we perceive nothing pleasant because of the misfortune from that, much more shall we suffer this in the perversion and maiming of the mind.” “And why do you bury it in the [earth]? So that it may be kept in safety? But here too again the opposite,” he says.

As, then, the one who fasts and shows mercy and prays for vainglory he drew away from vainglory by the very things he most desires (“For why do you pray and show mercy so?” he says. “From love of the glory that comes from men? Then do not pray so, and then you will obtain it on the day to come”), so the lover of money too he caught by the very things he is most eager for. “For what do you want?” he says. “That your money be kept and that you enjoy pleasure? Both of these I will grant you with great abundance, if you deposit the gold there where I bid you.” He showed more clearly later the harm to the mind that comes from this, when he mentioned the thorns; but meanwhile here too he hinted at this in no ordinary way, showing that the one mad about these things is darkened. And as those who are in darkness see nothing clearly, but if they see a rope they think it is a serpent, and if mountains and ravines, they are dead with fear, so these too have suspicions of things that are not fearful to those who see. For they tremble at poverty, or rather not at poverty only, but at any ordinary loss. For if they lose a little, they grieve and are cut to pieces more than those who lack necessary food. Many of the rich, at any rate, have even gone to the noose, unable to bear such ill fortune. And being insulted and abused seems to them so unbearable that for this reason again many have broken away from the present life. For wealth has made them soft toward everything except its own service. For when it bids them serve it, they dare even murders, and whips and reproaches and every shame. Which is the height of wretchedness: to be softer than all where they ought to practice philosophy, but more shameless and reckless where they ought to be more cautious. For the same thing happens to them as would happen to someone who had spent all he had on things that were not needed. For such a man, when the time of necessary expense comes, having nothing to give, suffers incurable evils, since all his goods have been badly spent beforehand.

And as those who know those wicked arts of the stage endure many astonishing and dangerous things in them, but in other useful and necessary matters are more ridiculous than all, so too are these. For those who walk on a stretched rope, displaying such courage, when some necessary matter demands daring and courage, cannot even conceive of anything of the kind nor bear it. So too the rich, daring everything for money, do not bear to endure anything of the kind, small or great, for the sake of philosophy. And as those handle a thing both dangerous and profitless, so these too endure many dangers and precipices, but reach no useful end, and endure a double darkness, maimed by the perversion of the mind and enduring a great mist from the deceit of their cares. That is why they cannot easily see clearly either. For the one who is in darkness is freed from the darkness as soon as the sun appears; but the one whose sight is maimed, not even when the sun appears; which is what these too have suffered. For not even when the Sun of righteousness has shone and exhorts them do they hear, since wealth has shut their eyes. That is why they endure a double darkness, one from themselves, the other from not attending to the teacher.

Let us attend to him, then, with precision, so that at last we may recover our sight. “And how is it possible to recover sight?” If you learn how you were blinded. How then were you blinded? From wicked desire. For like an evil humor flowing over a clear pupil, the love of money has made the cloud thick. But it is easy for this cloud to be scattered and broken, if we receive the ray of Christ’s teaching, if we hear him exhorting and saying, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth.” “And what more do I gain from hearing,” someone says, “when I am held by the desire?” First, continual hearing will be able to dissolve even the desire. And if you should persist in being held, consider that the thing is not even desire. For what desire is it to be a slave grievously, to be subject to a tyranny, to be bound on every side, to live in darkness, to be full of tumult, to endure profitless toils, and to keep money for others, often even for enemies? What desire are these things worthy of? What flight and running away are they not worthy of? What desire is it to deposit a treasure among thieves? For if you desire money at all, transfer it where it can remain safe and unmolested. For what you are doing now belongs not to one who desires money, but slavery and abuse and loss and continual pain. But you, if some man shows you a place on earth safe from molestation, even if he leads you out into the very desert, promising security in keeping your money, do not hesitate or hang back, but trust him and throw your money there; but when God, instead of men, promises you this, and sets before you not the desert but heaven, you accept the opposite. And yet even if it is ten thousand times in safety below, you will never be able to become free from anxiety. For even if you do not lose it, you will never be freed from anxiety lest you lose it. But there you will undergo none of these things; and what is more, you not only bury the gold but plant it. For the same thing is both a treasure and a seed, or rather more than both. For the seed does not remain forever, but this remains continually. Again, the treasure does not sprout, but this bears you deathless fruits. And if you speak to me of the time and the delay of the repayment, I too can show and tell you how much you receive even here; but apart from these things I will try to convict you from the very affairs of this life of making these excuses in vain.

For in the present life too you prepare many things which you yourself are not going to enjoy; and if someone accuses you, putting forward your children and their children, you think you have found sufficient consolation for your superfluous toils. For when, having reached extreme old age, you build splendid houses, which you will often leave before they are finished, and plant trees which will bear fruit after many years, and buy estates and inheritances of which you will receive possession after a long time, and labor at many other such things whose enjoyment you will not reap, do you do it for yourself or for those who come after? How then is it not the height of folly, here not to be troubled at all by the delay of time, and that when you are going to lose the reward of your toils because of all this delay, but there to grow numb because of the postponement, when it brings you more gain, and does not pass the good things on to others but brings the gifts to you yourself? Besides this, the postponement is not long either. For things are at the doors, and we do not know whether in our own generation all things concerning us will come to an end, and that fearful day will come, the awful and incorruptible court. For most of the signs have been completed, and the Gospel has now been preached everywhere in the world, and the things of wars and earthquakes and famines have come to pass, and the interval is not great. “But you do not see signs?” This very thing is the greatest sign. For neither did those in Noah’s time see the beginnings of that universal destruction, but while they were playing, eating, marrying, doing all their usual things, so they were overtaken by that fearful judgment. And those in Sodom likewise, living in luxury and suspecting none of what happened, were burned up by the thunderbolts that were then brought down. Considering all these things, then, let us turn ourselves to the preparation for our departure from here. For even if the common day of the consummation should never come, each one’s end is at the doors, whether one is old or young; and it is not possible for those who have departed from here either to buy oil any longer, or by asking to obtain pardon, even if it is Abraham who intercedes, or Noah, or Job, or Daniel. While, then, we have time, let us store up for ourselves beforehand great boldness, let us gather abundant oil, let us transfer everything into heaven, so that at the fitting time, when we most need them, we may enjoy them all, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the might, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.