Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 88.1–88.3

“Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani? that is, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And some of those standing there, when they heard it, said, This man is calling Elijah. And at once one of them ran and took a sponge, filled it with vinegar, put it on a reed, and gave him to drink.”

This is the sign which he promised earlier to give them when they asked, saying, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign, and no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah the prophet”—meaning the cross and the death, the tomb and the resurrection. And again, showing in another way the power of the cross, he said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he.” What he means is this: when you have crucified me and think you have got the better of me, then above all you will know my power. For after he was crucified the city perished, the Jewish order ceased, they fell from their own commonwealth and their freedom, the preaching flourished, the word stretched out to the ends of the world; and land and sea, the inhabited world and the uninhabited, continually proclaim his power. These things, then, he means, and also what happened at the very time of the cross. For it was much more wonderful that these things should happen while he was nailed to the cross than while he walked on the earth. And the marvel lay not only in this, but in that the sign came from heaven, which is what they were asking for, and over the whole world, which had never happened before except in Egypt only, when the Passover was about to be kept; for those things were a type of these.

And consider when it happens: at midday, so that all who dwell on the earth might learn of it, when it was day everywhere in the world; which was enough to convert them, not only by the greatness of the miracle but also by its happening at the right moment. For it happens after all their drunken outrage and lawless mockery, when they had given their wrath its fill, when they had stopped laughing, when they had had enough of jeering and had said everything they wished: then he shows the darkness, so that, even so, letting go their anger, they might profit from the miracle. For this was more wonderful than coming down from the cross: that while he was on the cross he worked these things. For if they thought that he himself had done them, they ought to have believed and feared; or if not he but the Father, even so they ought to have been pierced with compunction; for that darkness was the sign of one angry at what was being dared. That it was not an eclipse but wrath and indignation is plain not only from this but also from its duration: it lasted three hours, whereas an eclipse happens in a single moment, as those know who have seen one; for one happened in our own generation too.

“And how was it,” someone says, “that they did not all marvel and think him God?” Because the human race was then held fast in great carelessness and wickedness. And this miracle was a single one, and once it had happened it passed at once; and no one cared to seek its cause; and the prejudice of impiety and long custom were strong. And they did not even know what the cause of what happened was, and perhaps they thought it had happened by an eclipse or some other natural sequence. And why do you marvel at those outside, who knew nothing and did not inquire because of their great carelessness, when those who were in Judea itself, after so many miracles, still went on insulting him, although he showed them plainly that he himself had done this? For this is why he speaks even after it, so that they might learn that he is still alive and that he himself did this, and might become milder from this as well; and he says, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani,” so that to his last breath they might see that he honors the Father and is no opponent of God. That is why he also uttered a prophetic saying, bearing witness to the Old Testament to his last hour; and not simply a prophetic saying but one in Hebrew, so that it might be familiar and plain to them; and by everything he shows his oneness of mind with the one who begot him.

But see here too their wantonness, their licentiousness and their folly. They thought, it says, that the one he called was Elijah, and at once they gave him vinegar to drink. And another came up and pierced his side with a spear. What could be more lawless than these men, what more brutal, who carried their madness so far as to insult at the last even a dead body? But consider, I pray, how he used their lawless deeds for our salvation. For after the blow, the fountains of our salvation gushed forth from there.

“And Jesus cried out with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.” This is what he said: “I have authority to lay down my life, and I have authority to take it again,” and, “I lay it down of myself.” For this reason he cried out with a loud voice, so that it might be shown that the thing was done by his authority. Mark at any rate says that Pilate marveled that he was already dead, and that the centurion believed above all for this reason, that he died with authority. This cry tore the veil, and opened the tombs, and made the house desolate. And he did this not as an insult to the temple—for how could he, who said, “Do not make my Father’s house a house of trade”?—but declaring them unworthy even of remaining there, as also when he handed it over to the Babylonians. And not for this reason only did these things happen; what took place was also a prophecy of the desolation to come, and of the change to greater and higher things, and of his power.

Along with these things he showed who he was also by what followed: by the raising of the dead, [by the darkening of the light, by the change of the elements]. For in Elisha’s day one dead man touched a dead man and rose; but now a voice raised them, while the body lay up on the cross. Besides, those things too were a type of this; for it was so that this might be believed that that also happened. And they are not simply raised: rocks are also split and the earth is shaken, so that they might learn that he was able to blind them too and to tear them apart. For he who split rocks and darkened the world could far more have done these things to them, if he had wished. But he would not; letting his wrath fall on the elements, he wished to save them by gentleness. But they did not abate their madness. For such is envy, such is jealousy: it does not easily stop. Then, too, they were shameless even before the very things they saw; and afterward, when he had risen though a seal lay on the tomb and soldiers were guarding it, and they heard these things from the guards themselves, they even gave money so as to corrupt others too and to steal away the report of the resurrection. Do not marvel, then, that they were unfeeling at that time too, being once for all so prepared to be shameless toward everything; but consider this: how great the signs were that he did, some from heaven, some on earth, some in the temple itself, showing at once his indignation and at the same time that what was inaccessible would henceforth be accessible, and heaven would be opened, and the things of worship would be moved to the true Holy of Holies.

And they said, “If he is King of Israel, let him come down from the cross”; but he shows that he is King of the whole world. And they said, “You who destroy this temple and build it in three days”; but he shows that it will be desolate to the end. Again they said, “He saved others; himself he cannot save”; but he, remaining on the cross, showed this in great abundance in the bodies of his servants. For if it was a great thing for Lazarus to come out on the fourth day, much more was it for all those who had long been asleep to appear alive all at once, which was a sign of the resurrection to come. “For many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised,” it says, “and they went into the holy city and appeared to many.” For so that what happened might not be thought an apparition, they appear to many in the city as well. And the centurion then glorified God, saying, “Truly this man was righteous.” And the crowds who had come together to the sight returned beating their breasts. So great was the power of the crucified one that after so much jeering and mockery and scoffing, both the centurion and the people were pierced with compunction. And some say that there is also an account of the martyrdom of this centurion, who afterward stood firm like a man in the faith.

“And many women were there looking on from afar, who had followed him, ministering to him: Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.” The women watch these things happening—the women, the most compassionate, the most given to lament. And consider how great their constancy was: they followed him ministering, and they were present even to the point of danger. That is why they saw everything: how he cried out, how he breathed his last, how the rocks were split, and all the rest. And these are the first to see Jesus; and the sex most condemned is the first to enjoy the sight of the good things; this above all shows their courage. The disciples fled, but these were present. And who were they? His mother—for he calls her the mother of James—and the others. Another evangelist says that many also lamented over what was happening and beat their breasts; which above all shows the cruelty of the Jews, that over the very things others were lamenting these men were boasting, and they were neither bent by pity nor checked by fear. For what happened came from great wrath; and they were not simply signs but all of them signs of anger: the darkness, the splitting rocks, the veil torn down the middle, the shaking of the earth; and great was the excess of the indignation.

“And Joseph came and asked for the body.” This was the Joseph who had earlier kept himself hidden; now, however, he dared a great thing after Christ’s death. For he was neither obscure nor one of those who go unnoticed, but one of the council, and very distinguished; from which his courage can especially be seen. For he gave himself up to death, taking on himself the hatred of all by his goodwill toward Jesus, daring to ask for the body and not leaving off until he obtained it. And not only by taking it, but also by burying it at great cost, and in his own new tomb, he shows his love and his courage. And this too was not arranged without purpose, but so that there might not be even a bare suspicion that one man rose in place of another. “And Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.” Why do these women keep their watch there? They did not yet know anything great and lofty about him, as they should have; that is why they brought ointments and waited at the tomb, so that, if the madness of the Jews abated, they might go and pour them over him.

Did you see the courage of women? Did you see their affection? Did you see their greatness of soul with their money, and their courage even to death? Let us men imitate the women; let us not forsake Jesus in temptations. For they spent so much on him even when he was dead, and risked their lives; but we (for again I will say the same things) neither feed him when he is hungry nor clothe him when he is naked, but seeing him begging we run past. And yet if you saw him himself, each of you would empty out all his possessions. But now too it is he himself; for he himself said, “It is I.” Why, then, do you not empty out everything? For now too you hear him saying, “You do it to me”; and it makes no difference whether you give to this one or to him: you have nothing less than those women who then fed him, but even much more. But do not be troubled. For it is not the same thing to feed him when he appears in person—which would have been enough to draw even a soul of stone—and, on the strength of his word alone, to tend the poor man, the maimed, the bent-over. For there the sight and the dignity of the one who appears share with you in what is done; but here the prize of your love for humankind is wholly yours; and it is the proof of a greater reverence toward him when, on his word alone, you tend your fellow servant and so refresh him in everything. Refresh him, then, believing the one who receives and says, “You give to me.” For if you were not giving to him, he would not have counted you worthy of the kingdom. If you were not turning away from him, he would not send you to hell for overlooking an ordinary person; but because it is he himself who is despised, the charge is great. So too Paul was persecuting him by persecuting his people; that is why he said, “Why are you persecuting me?”

Let us then be so disposed as giving to Christ himself, whenever we give. For his words are more trustworthy than our sight. When, then, you see a poor man, remember the words by which he showed that it is he himself who is fed. For even if what appears is not Christ, yet in this man’s form he himself receives and begs. Are you ashamed to hear that Christ begs? Be ashamed rather when you do not give to him when he begs. For this is shame, this is punishment and penalty. For his begging comes from his goodness, and so we ought even to glory in him; but not giving comes from your cruelty. And if you do not believe now that when you pass by a faithful poor man you are passing him by, you will believe then, when he brings you into the midst and says, “Inasmuch as you did not do it to these, neither did you do it to me.” But God forbid that we should learn it in that way; rather, believing now and bearing fruit, may we hear that most blessed voice which brings us into the kingdom.

But perhaps someone will say, “Every day you speak to us about almsgiving and love for humankind.” Nor will I stop saying it. For if this had been achieved among you, even then I ought not to leave off altogether, so as not to make you more careless; still, if it had been achieved, I might have relaxed a little. But if you have not even reached the middle, say these things not to me but to yourselves. For you are doing the same as if a child, hearing the letter alpha often and not learning it, were to blame his teacher for reminding him of it continually and without end. For who has become readier for almsgiving from these words? Who has thrown away his money? Who half his substance? Who a third? No one. How, then, is it not absurd, when you are not learning, to bid us leave off teaching? On the contrary, you ought, even if we wished to leave off, to hold us back and say, “We have not yet learned these things; how is it that you have left off reminding us?” If someone’s eye were diseased and I happened to be a physician, and then, after putting on plasters and ointments and applying the rest of the treatment, I did him no great good and left off, would he not come to the doors of my surgery and cry out against me, charging me with great negligence because I withdrew while the disease remained? And if, charged with this, I said, “I put on plasters, I applied ointment,” would he have put up with it? Not at all; he would at once have said, “And what is the good of it, when I am still in pain?” Reckon this in the case of the soul too. What if I had often fomented a numb and contracted hand with warm water and could not soften it: would I not have heard the same? Now too we are bathing a contracted and withered hand; and for this reason we will not leave off until we stretch it out completely. Would that you too talked of nothing else, at home and in the marketplace and at table, and at night, even in your dreams. For if we always cared about these things by day, we would be among them even in our dreams.

What do you say? That I always speak about almsgiving? I too would wish that you had no great need of this counsel, so that I might speak about the battle against Jews and pagans and heretics. But how could one arm those who are not yet healthy? How could one lead them out to the battle line while they still have wounds and scars? Since if I saw you clearly in health, I would have led you out to that battle, and you would have seen, by the grace of Christ, countless dead struck down and their heads carried off one upon another. At any rate in other books we have said much about these things; but not even so can we fully celebrate the victory, because of the negligence of the many. For when we defeat them ten thousand times by our doctrines, they reproach us with the life of the many who assemble among us, with their wounds, the diseases of their souls. How, then, shall we confidently show you on the battle line, when you put us to shame by being at once struck down by the enemy and mocked? For one man’s hand is in pain and is contracted toward giving. How then will such a man be able to hold a shield and put it before him, and not be wounded by the jeers at his cruelty? Others have lame feet—those who go up to the theaters and to the haunts of prostitutes. How then will these be able to stand in the battle, and not be struck down by charges of licentiousness? Another has pain in his eyes and is blinded, not looking straight but full of licentiousness, assaulting the chastity of women and breaking into marriages. How then will he be able to look the enemy in the face, and brandish a spear, and let fly an arrow, pierced as he is on every side by jeers? One may see many, too, suffering in the belly no less than those with dropsy, when they are held fast by gluttony and drunkenness. How then shall I be able to lead these drunken men out to war? Another man’s mouth is rotten: such are the hot-tempered, the revilers and the blasphemers. How then will he ever raise the war cry in battle and do anything great and noble, drunk as he is with another kind of drunkenness and furnishing the enemy with much laughter?

For this reason every day I go round this camp, treating these wounds, healing these sores. And if you ever become sober and fit even to strike others, I will teach you these tactics too, and train you to handle these weapons; or rather your very deeds will be weapons for you, and everyone will at once submit, if you become merciful, if gentle, if mild and forbearing, if you display all the rest of virtue. And if some should contradict, then we shall add what is ours as well, bringing you forward into the midst; whereas now, as far as your part goes, we are actually hindered in this race. Consider: we say that Christ did great things, making angels out of men; then, when we are called to account and bidden to give the proof from this flock, we are muzzled. For I am afraid that instead of angels I may bring out, as from a sty, swine and stallions mad after females. I know that you are pained; but these things have not been said against all of you, only against those who are guilty; or rather not even against them, if they come to their senses, but for their sake. For as it is, everything is lost and corrupted, and the church differs in nothing from a cattle-shed and a stable for asses and camels; and I go about looking for a sheep and cannot see one. So all kick, like horses and wild asses, and fill this place with much dung; for such are their conversations. If you could see what is said at each assembly by men and by women, you would see that their words are more unclean than that dung. Therefore I exhort you to change this evil custom, so that the church may breathe the fragrance of ointment. But as it is, we lay up incense for the senses in it, but we take no great care to cleanse and drive out the uncleanness of the mind. What good is it, then? For we do not disgrace the church so much by bringing dung into it as we disgrace it by saying such things to one another—about gains, about trade, about shopkeeping, about things that are nothing to us—when there ought to be choirs of angels here, and we ought to make the church a heaven, and to know nothing else but earnest prayers and silence with attentive listening. Let us do this at least from now on, so that we may both cleanse our own life and obtain the good things promised, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.