Commentary on Luke (Greek fragments) 16.15–17.1.2

He is found saying this to them somewhere else too: “How can you believe, receiving glory from men, and not seeking the glory that comes from the only God?” For those who are truly good God crowns with praises for righteousness; but those who do not love virtue and are hypocrites perhaps steal by their own votes the appearance of being venerable. But, my good men, one might say to them, no one crowns himself. For it is written: “Let your neighbour praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips.” Yet even if the hypocrites could somehow escape notice and snatch honours from men, “God,” he says, “knows your hearts”; he honours the one who is truly righteous, but scatters the bones of men-pleasers; for man-pleasing is the root, beginning and birth of the arrogance hated by God and men. Having branded them with his reproofs, Christ adds to these something else that they were going to suffer because of their impiety and disobedience. For he says: “The law and the prophets were until John,” and so on (16:16).

Again he hides the painful thing in obscurity, and makes, as it were, a veiled prediction of what would happen to those who chose to disobey him. “Moses,” he says, “and with him the choir of the holy prophets, announced beforehand to those on earth the power of the mystery concerning me. The law showed through shadow and types that I would endure the death of the flesh in order to save the world under heaven and abolish corruption, having been raised from the dead; and the prophets spoke in agreement with the laws of Moses. So it is nothing strange,” he says, “that is, nothing not foreknown, when you disobey my words; for the word of prophecy concerning me and you extends to John the Baptist.” “But from the days of John the kingdom of heaven is preached, and everyone forces his way into it.” By the kingdom of heaven here he means justification by faith, the washing away of sin—I mean through holy baptism—sanctification through the Spirit, worship in the Spirit, the boast of adoption, the hope of the glory that will be given to the saints. The kingdom of heaven, then, is preached when the Baptist came forward and said, “Prepare the way of the Lord,” and pointed out the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, as already present. And everyone who has become an obedient hearer and lover of the sacred proclamation forces his way in; that is, using all eagerness and every strength, he longs to enter into the hope. For, as he says somewhere else, “The kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent seize it.”

“But it is easier,” and so on (16:17). He says it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away—which does not yet happen, God not commanding it—than for one stroke of the law to fall. By the law he sometimes means the whole divinely inspired Scripture together, that is, the writings of Moses and the prophets. What, then, did they announce beforehand that must by all means come to fulfilment? They foretold that because of great unbelief and the impiety of its ways Israel would slip from intimacy with God, though it was firstborn among children; and that Jerusalem would be thrust out of his love. Indeed he said of her through the voice of Hosea: “Behold, I fence her way with thorns, and I will wall up her ways, and she shall not find her path.” For the way of the godly has become straight, and nothing in it … but all things smooth and fit for horses. But the way of the mother of the Jews is fenced, that is, the path of godliness was made impassable for them. And that they became darkened in mind and did not accept the light of the Saviour’s glory—for they did not know him—he declared beforehand, saying, as to the people of the Jews: “I have likened your mother to night; my people has become like one without knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I will reject you from being a priest to me; and you have forgotten the law of your God, and I will forget your children.” Do you hear that the multitude of the disobedient is likened to darkness and night, and very fittingly? For in the minds and hearts of believers the spiritual morning star rises, and the sun of righteousness; but the mind of those who insult so splendid and desirable a grace is blackened with spiritual darkness and mist. So much about those of Israel. But about those who have recognized the appearing of the glory of Christ the Saviour of us all, God the Father promised through one of the holy prophets, saying: “And I will strengthen them in the Lord their God, and in the name of the Lord their God they shall be.” In agreement with these, the Psalmist too says in the Spirit to Christ: “O Lord, they will walk in the light of your face, and in your name they will rejoice all the day; for you are the boast of their strength, and in your righteousness our horn will be exalted.” For we boast in Christ, having been justified in him; we have become exalted, having cast off the humiliation that comes from sin and become rich in the exact knowledge of the doctrines of truth. For God promised us this, saying through the voice of Isaiah: “And I will lead the blind in a way that they did not know, and I will make them tread paths that they had not known; I will turn the darkness into light for them, and all crooked things into straight.” For we who were blind have been enlightened and walk the unaccustomed path of righteousness; but those who boast of the law as their tutor have come to be in darkness. For, as Christ himself said, the darkness has blinded their eyes, and a hardening in part has come upon Israel, so that seeing they may not see and hearing they may not hear; for they behaved outrageously toward the holy prophets, and they dared to lay hands even on him who calls them to salvation and life. “So even if you disobey,” he says, “even if you foolishly scoff at my words, which lead you to the pursuit of what is useful and fitting, these things were not unknown,” he says, “but have already been foretold through the law and the prophets.” And it is impossible for the words of God to fall into ineffectiveness; for what he knew would certainly come to pass, he declared beforehand.

As to the letter, he shows that he has come not at all to abolish or overturn the writings of the prophets, but rather to bring to completion both prophets and law. For since he said that the law and the prophets were until John, lest anyone should suppose that they have been cast out and set aside, for this reason he added: “Not one iota or one stroke will fall from the law,” as in Matthew. “There was a rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen” (16:19).

One might ask: according to the gospel narrative, which says that the poor man went away to rest and the rich man to punishment, have these things already happened, and has a worthy recompense been allotted to each, or does he sketch in these things the image of the judgement to come? “But surely,” someone says, “since he names Lazarus, it truly happened and was done. For why did he not say, ‘A certain poor man,’ but ‘Lazarus’? So that by the name he might show that these things were done in experience and truth.” To him we shall say: the divine Scripture says everywhere that the judgement will be after the resurrection of the dead; and there will be no resurrection unless Christ comes again to us from heaven in the glory of the Father with the holy angels. So too the all-wise Paul says: “The Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God”; for “the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised” in Christ “incorruptible.” Since, then, the Judge of all has not yet come down from heaven, neither has the resurrection of the dead taken place; how, then, is it not implausible to think that a recompense has already been given to anyone, either for evil works or for good? The things said by Christ about the rich man and Lazarus are therefore a form of parable, elegantly shaped. The account goes, as the tradition of the Hebrews has it, that there was a certain Lazarus at that time in Jerusalem, living in extreme poverty and sickness, whom the Lord mentioned, taking him as an example for a clearer setting forth of the discourse. Since Christ, then, has not yet come down from heaven, neither has the resurrection taken place, nor has the recompense of deeds followed for anyone. But as in an image, in the parable are described a rich man living in luxury and without pity, and a poor man in sickness, so that those who have earthly wealth may know that if they do not choose to be kind, generous and sharing, and to help with the needs of the poor, they will fall into a terrible and inescapable penalty.

But I think it necessary first to say what the occasion of the discourse was, or to show what matter Christ so excellently shapes and forms the present parable. The Saviour was making us craftsmen of good works, and wished us to be distinguished by the glories of the virtues. He wished us to love one another, to take care of the poor, and to hold vigorously to the pursuits that serve this; and above all, putting together counsels on this very matter for the rich in this world and leading them into the way most fitting for the saints, he said: “Sell your possessions and give alms.” The commandment is fine and good and saving. But Christ was not unaware that to be able to carry out what was commanded is not possible for the many; for the human mind is always weak toward the difficult and hard-to-accomplish feats of virtue; but since he is good and loves humankind, he devised a way of helping them, so that lasting and irremovable poverty might not succeed their wealth here, nor eternal punishment their passing luxuries. “For if you cannot bear,” he says, “to give up your pleasure-loving wealth, to sell your property entire and distribute it to the needy, at least be eager to win good repute in lesser things: make friends for yourselves by means of the unrighteous mammon”—that is, do not make the wealth only your own, but stretch out a hand to the needy too; suffer with the suffering; comfort the saints who love a poverty not against their will, so that they may serve God without distraction. This will not go unrewarded for you; for when your earthly wealth fails you, overtaken at the end of life, then they will make you partners of their hope and of the consolation to be given them by God; for, being good, he will restore those who have toiled in this life and borne with patience the heavy load of poverty. The most wise Paul too gives such counsel to those in wealth, saying of those in distress: “Your abundance for their want.” This is the command of nothing else than what Christ said: “Make friends for yourselves by means of the unrighteous mammon.” And that not bearing to do this brings ruin and unquenchable fire, he shows by setting forth the present parable to us: “There was a very rich man,” he says. Here, I pray, look and observe closely the words of the Saviour, which show much wisdom. For though he could have said, “So-and-so was a rich man,” as in the case of Job, he did not say this; he names a rich man simply, but mentions the poor man by name. What, then, is to be observed? The rich man is nameless before God, as being without pity; for he said somewhere through the voice of the Psalmist about those who do not fear him: “I will not make mention of their names with my lips.” But the poor man, as I said, is named on God’s tongue. Yet let us see the rich man’s brow raised for nothing needful. What, then, does Christ say about him? “And he was clothed in purple and fine linen”—that is, he was eager to dress well in most costly clothing. But the poor man was cast at the gate, fettered by disease and poverty; he was counted worthy of no consideration, had no share of pity or care; he sought to be filled with what slipped from the rich man’s table and was of less use; and he was punished in another way too by a most grievous disease; “but even the dogs,” he says, “licked his sores,” not, as is likely, harming him, but rather as it were suffering with him and tending him; for with their own tongue they heal their own sores, as it were scraping off what hurts and gently anointing. But the rich man, being more savage than wild beasts, was shown to be without fellow-feeling, without pity, and full of all inhumanity. “And it happened that the poor man died,” and so on. “The rich man also died and was buried,” and so on (16:22). But not so this Lazarus: he went away with every escort and with the better hopes; for to those who have their hopes in God the departure from our life would be a removal from grief and toils. Solomon taught something of the kind, saying: “In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was reckoned an affliction, and their going from us a ruin; but they are in peace, and their hope is full of immortality.” For to them is given a measure of consolation equal to their toils, or perhaps rewards even greater than their toils; for Christ said: “A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will they give into your lap.” So “Lazarus was carried away by the holy angels,” he says, “into the bosom of Abraham; but the rich man died,” he says, “and was buried.” For to him, having been hard and without pity, release from the body was death; for he departs from luxury into punishment, from glory into dishonour, from light into darkness.

“It is impossible that stumbling blocks should not come” (17:1).

What stumbling blocks, then, does Christ mention, which he says will by all means happen? Stumbling blocks are of two kinds. Some fight against the supreme glory and touch the essence highest of all, as far as the attempt of those who devised them goes. Others sometimes arise among us, but reach only so far as to grieve some of our brothers and fellow believers. For the inventions of heresies, and whatever discourse may arise against the truth, fight against the divine and supreme glory itself; for they carry those who are caught away from the correctness and exactness of the sacred doctrines. Of such stumbling blocks the Saviour himself said somewhere again: “Woe to the world because of stumbling blocks; for it is necessary that stumbling blocks come, but woe to the man through whom the stumbling block comes.” For such stumbling blocks—through the unholy heretics, I mean—do not come against one person individually, but rather lay plots against the world, that is, against those in all the earth. The blessed Paul rebukes the inventors of such stumbling blocks, saying: “Thus sinning against the brothers and wounding their weak conscience, you sin against Christ.” And so that such stumbling blocks may not prevail over believers, God said somewhere to those who uphold the right word of truth and know well how to initiate into the mysteries: “Go through my gates, and make a way for my people, and throw the stones out of the way.” The Saviour hung a bitter penalty over those who lay such stumbling blocks. But he seems now to be speaking not of such stumbling blocks, but rather of those which very often happen from human pettiness between friends and brothers. What leads us to suppose this is the saying placed next, right after the first—the one, I mean, about forgiving brothers if they should somehow offend against us. What, then, are such stumbling blocks? Pettinesses perhaps and griefs, just and unjust provocations, abuse, frequent slanders, and the faults akin to and of the same kind as these. These, I say, cannot fail to come. Is it as if the God over all brings them on some by necessity? Far from it! For nothing bad comes from him; rather he is the fountain of all virtue. How, then, can they not fail to happen? Surely because of our weakness: “For we all stumble in many ways,” as it is written. Yet he says woe will be to the one who lays the stumbling blocks; for he does not leave it unrebuked, but rather restrains carelessness in these things by fear of the penalty. Yet he commands us to bear patiently with those who lay them.