On the Resurrection of Christ 2.635–3.651

from the door of the tomb, but no angel sitting on it as before, she let unbelief prevail, supposing the sight to have been a fantasy and a trance, not true but false. And running to Peter and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, she cried out, saying: “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and I do not know where they have laid him.” You see how, having heard something of the kind echoing around from what the Jews made up by night after the guards' report, she was carried away in her reasoning, and thought that the opponents had stolen Jesus' body so as to lay the theft at the apostles' door. But Peter and John readily got up and ran to the tomb. For what was said was not incredible, so that they should disbelieve it as they would the resurrection; rather it was credible and not out of keeping with the villainy of the Jews. They did this without fear, since it was quiet and still dark, and they took courage from God. But when they came they found clear signs of the resurrection. For they see the linen cloths lying in the tomb; and this would never have happened if the body had been stolen. For, first, thieves like to steal clothes; and then, to carry out the theft very quickly, so as not to be caught and suffer the worst. And about Jesus' body John wrote somewhat as follows: “They bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the custom of the Jews in burying.” How, then, would it not have been hard work for thieves to undo the bindings and strip the body of the linen cloths, which were stuck to it and hard to pull away, and would tear before they could be taken off? For they had been bound together with a mixture of aloes and myrrh, which Nicodemus brought. Moreover the napkin that had been on his head, lying not with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by itself, showed no disturbance such as there would be if thieves had taken the body. For where would thieves have had the leisure and the freedom to roll up even the head covering in order and lay it apart? So this too clearly establishes the truth of the resurrection; and at the same time it hinted at a mystery worthy of God: that the head, holding the rank of the Godhead (according to the saying, “the head of Christ is God”), and the words about it remain even after the incarnation as if wrapped up and undissolved, even if the lower things, those of the dispensation in the flesh and of his life on earth among men (of which the linen cloths were a figure), have been unwrapped and handled as far as is possible for us. Seeing this, Peter and those with him believed, not simply, but beholding with a higher and apostolic mind. For the tomb was full of light, so that, although it was still night, they saw what was inside in two ways, both with the senses and spiritually. For if there is light for the righteous continually, as it is written, much more

for the God of the righteous. “But they did not believe,” he says, “for as yet they did not know the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead.” And yet they knew, since the Savior had often told them beforehand that he would rise; but they were not persuaded as from the Scripture and the oracles it contains (which could not possibly fail to come to pass), but were still wavering in faith. That Jesus rose naked, without the linen cloths, shows that he would no longer be known after the flesh as needing food or drink or the covering of clothes, although in fulfilling the dispensation he had willingly subjected himself to these, as one who shared the same nature with us. Further, it also shows the restoration of Adam to his original state, when he was naked in paradise and was not ashamed. For from then on, as God, though incarnate, he was clothed with the most divine glory, being himself the one who “covers himself with light as with a garment,” as the prophet David says. But Peter and John, convinced by what they had seen, went back home, and said nothing to Mary. For the only wise One arranged that she, since she did not believe, should be brought to faith by sight rather than by hearing. So she stood outside by the tomb weeping, and stooping she saw two angels, white and bright in their robes, sitting one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And when she ought to have turned her mourning into gladness, she did not stop her tears, so that the angels said to her, as if with rebuke, “Woman, why are you weeping?” as if to say: “These tears are a woman's, not those of a sensible mind. For what place is there for lamenting after such a sight?” And she, still held by the same unbelief (for her affliction was prolonged so that by what was set before her little by little she might be completely cleansed for faith), said to them: “They have taken my Lord out of the tomb, and I do not know where they have laid him.” And having said this she turned around and saw Jesus standing, and did not know that it was Jesus, partly because she was darkened by her tears and weighed down as if by a mist, and partly because Jesus arranged that he should not be recognized by her. So he too said: “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She, thinking that he was the gardener, said to him: “Sir, if you have carried him off, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Perhaps it was not unfitting that she took Jesus to be the gardener; for in truth he was himself the true and immortal cultivator of paradise, setting right, in the garden of the tomb as in paradise, the woman who out of unbelief had deceived Adam, the first gardener. So everything is full of mystery, and full of more divine and lofty meanings.

But when Mary had said this, and was distraught about searching for the body, and had turned away still further, so as even to leave, he who pierces even to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and who discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart, seeing her sufficiently tormented, cut off her unbelief with a single word and sharpened the woman's sight to recognition, saying only, as he knew how, in a tone of reproof: “Mariam.” At once she turned and called him “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher, and sought to take hold of those divine feet, and heard: “Do not touch me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father.” “Having already received the gift of this word,” he says, “and having touched me with the other Mary, and worshiped me, and held my feet, you so despised it as even to disbelieve, and you thought nothing great of me, but still looked around the tomb for him who, from above, is with the Father as God. And now do not touch me, if with the same mind you think that ascending to the Father is something I lack. For I have not yet ascended to my Father, as you think. But go to my brothers and say to them: I am ascending to my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God.” “Since,” he says, “I have become according to the flesh the firstborn among many brothers, I will now ascend bodily to my Father and your Father, and my God and your God, not for myself but for you, my brothers. For if he had not been called my God, seeing in me, as in the firstfruits of the race, the blamelessness of human nature, because I do not know sin, he would not have been called your Father, or the God of those who had been estranged from him.” That is why Paul too, writing to the Hebrews, said: “For Christ has entered, not into holy places made with hands, copies of the true ones, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf.” So Mary Magdalene comes and tells the disciples that she has seen the Lord, and that he said these things to her. Having arrived and told them, she finds again Mary the mother of James, and Joanna, and other women with them, hurrying to the tomb with prepared spices and ointments, when the darkness had withdrawn and it was “deep dawn” (that is, exactly when it had just first begun), as Luke says. And joining herself to them she went along, seeming to lead them because of the warmth of her longing for Jesus, and being counted first by the evangelists because of the distinction she gained from this. For she wanted them too to be convinced of the resurrection, not from what they heard from her and the other Mary, but from the divine presence itself or that of angels. So she went with them, wisely keeping silent and saying nothing as they went along, but waiting for the proof of events, and trusting that some personal assurance would be given to them too through their own eyes. And indeed the stone, rolled away

away from the tomb, they went inside; and not finding the body of Jesus, and being at a loss, they see two men standing by them in dazzling robes, and heard from them: “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has been raised,” and so on. “And returning,” he says, “from the tomb, they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest.” But being many, they disbelieved all the more, and mocked and spurned the report. “For their words seemed to them like nonsense, and they did not believe them,” so that Peter, stirred up by their unbelief, and himself somewhat troubled and shaken, ran again to the tomb, stooped, and saw again the linen cloths lying there, which he had already gone in and examined more closely; so, content just to stoop and look, and seeing nothing different, he went away wondering and amazed at what had happened, and glorifying the one who had arranged these things. And again Mary Magdalene, just as she had gone along at deep dawn with the women around Joanna, who were carrying the ointments and spices they had prepared before the Sabbath, in the same way, with the same intention, ran along readily with Salome too, a stranger beside the other women already named, who had bought spices late, though after the Sabbath; and she took with her also Mary the mother of James, so that Mary seemed to have shared in buying the spices. For sharing the journey, they reckoned the whole undertaking as common to them all. “And very early on the first day of the week they come to the tomb.” The word “still” is found in the more accurate copies, to show that this arrival of the women at the tomb also took place, in addition to those that had already happened. And Mark, making “very early” clear, added, “when the sun had risen.” “And they said,” he says, “to one another: Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb? And looking up they see that the stone has been rolled away; for it was very large.” For Salome was rightly at a loss, since she had never come to the tomb at all, and said this to those walking with her; they, keeping silent in the way described above, raised their eyes and gave their answer with a look, for the stone, rolled away, was there before their eyes. Because of their common journey together, it is written that they were at a loss and talked with one another, while we attend to the truth of the history and the nature of the events, and determine whose the perplexity properly was. For it is implausible that women who had already seen the stone rolled away many times should be worried about it. But since among these women in Mark a person who did not know, Salome, is included, the explanation has an unassailable plausibility. For it would not be consistent for the others, either, to say: “Who will roll away

the stone for us?” when the Jews had sealed the entrance of the tomb and set a guard of soldiers beside it, and the third day had come. For the abominable men said to Pilate: “We remember that that deceiver said while he was still alive: After three days I will rise.” If, then, the women knew of the wonder done through the angel, the moving of the stone and the guards' becoming like dead men from fear and their withdrawal, how could they have been at a loss about the stone being rolled away? And if they did not know of the wonder, they should have thought of the soldiers' guard and not imagined the tomb open. But, as I said, Salome did not know this either, and the words were hers alone. For Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, sitting opposite the tomb, as Matthew recorded, and keeping watch there diligently, had seen with their own eyes both the seals of the Jews and the guard of armed men. And when Salome went in with both the Marys, they saw a young man sitting on the right, clothed in a white robe, and they were all alarmed: the one as lacking in faith and disposed in a more human way; the others as frequenting the tomb often and seeming now to be inquiring into the resurrection more than was fitting. For this reason a young man appeared who could astonish them by his stature and put fear into them, mingling brightness with what was fearful by the whiteness of his robe, as at a feast; and so that they might not be frozen with fear, he speaks to them rather forcefully, teaching them by what he said not to be curious after such sights, but rather to stand firm on what they had seen. “Go,” he says, “tell his disciples and Peter” (the disciples, as having often disbelieved; Peter, as having come to the tomb a second time with the same curiosity as you) “that he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him, as he told you”: told you women, when he appeared “late on the Sabbaths, as it was dawning toward the first of the Sabbaths,” as Matthew wrote. For he is never shown to have told the disciples that after his rising he would appear to them in Galilee, unless someone cites what Matthew and Mark wrote, said by the Savior after the mystical supper, when they had gone out to the Mount of Olives after singing a hymn, somewhat as follows: “But after I am raised, I will go before you into Galilee.” Going out of the tomb, the Marys and Salome, seized with trembling and amazement, fled, and said nothing to anyone; “for they were afraid,” partly because of the fearsomeness of the young man, partly because the day had now advanced and the Jews, as was likely, were roaming up and down, thirsting for blood. In the more accurate copies the Gospel according to Mark

has its end at “for they were afraid.” But in some this too is added: “Having risen early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons.” This seems to contain some contradiction with what we said earlier. For since the hour of the night at which the Savior rose is unknown, how is it written here that he rose early? But the text will not appear contradictory if we read it with understanding. One should wisely put a stop after “having risen,” and then go on: “early on the Sabbath he appeared first to Mary Magdalene,” so that “having risen” refers, in agreement with Matthew, to the earlier time, while “early” is assigned to the appearance made to Mary, who saw the Lord first together with the other Mary, and again alone. For the whole span after cockcrow is “early.” Since, then, there were four times and as many arrivals at which the women came to the tomb, the Holy Spirit arranged for each evangelist to write of one time. Matthew recorded the women who came to the tomb late on the Sabbath, and one angel who came down from heaven and rolled away the stone; John wrote that Mary Magdalene came alone, in the darkness before dawn, and saw two angels inside the tomb; Luke, other women at that same dawn; and Mark, another at sunrise, with some of those who had already come mixed in with them. And the one group saw two men standing by them, the other a young man sitting on the right, and all clothed in white robes. So one can, by putting together in the order of the times what each has written, make a single harmony and a single body of the whole history, as though one person had written the whole and not many. For if the four had recorded a single arrival of the women at one time, and had not said that the same angels appeared; or if, all speaking of one and the same appearance or vision, they had said that it took place at different times, each mentioning a different time, the account would be open to the charge of disagreement. But if the times and the persons are different, and the appearances of those who appeared are not the same (God wishing to confirm in many ways the incredible wonder of the resurrection), and one evangelist recorded what another did not say, how is the whole narrative not pure and free of every pretext for attack? And since many Marys are mentioned in the Gospels, we must recognize that there are three in all,

whom John counted together, saying: “Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.” For Mary the mother of James and Joses, as she is named by the other evangelists, we have believed to be the Theotokos and no other. For just as, for the sake of the dispensation, and so that the divine birth might be kept in shadow and not made known to the murderous Jews, it is recorded that the Virgin conceived by the Holy Spirit just when she was about to be led to the bridal chamber, so that Joseph was called her husband and the father of Jesus, in the same way, since Joses and James, children of Joseph the carpenter by an earlier marriage and a wife who had died before, were of a child's age, the Theotokos was called and named their mother. This is why the Jews, blaspheming against the Savior, said: “Is not this the carpenter's son? Is not his mother called Mary, and his brothers James and Joses and Simon and Judas?” And for this reason John, as one who spoke of God with boldness, called her, standing by the cross, the mother of Jesus, from the truth itself; while the rest of the evangelists, occupied for the most part with the dispensation, called her, for the sake of the dispensation, the mother of James and Joses (for these were Joseph's first and best-known children). The account clearly shows this: that with this arrangement, and the supposition that came of it, Mary was present at the saving passion without danger. For if she had been known to many as a virgin, she would have been destroyed by the envious Jews. One can also find her named by the evangelists after only one of Joseph's children: “Mary of James” and “Mary of Joses.” Mark called her the mother of James the Less and of Joses, since there was another James, the son of Alphaeus, called great because he was counted among the twelve apostles; for the lesser was not counted among them. But one might reasonably ask how the Savior, having promised the disciples, both through the angels and with his own voice, that he would be seen when he came to Galilee, appeared and fulfilled the promise in Jerusalem as well: according to Luke, on the very day of the resurrection, to the eleven gathered together; according to John, he makes his appearance both on that day and on the eighth day, standing in their midst and saying, “Peace to you,” and giving himself to Thomas to touch. But this shows the wealth of his loving generosity; it does not bring a charge of falsehood. For he did not say, “They will see me only in Galilee”; nor, having appeared in Jerusalem, did he fail to be seen in Galilee as he had promised (that would have been to belie his own words). But if he both appeared in Jerusalem to those shut up in a room

for fear of the Jews, when they needed his presence, and also fulfilled the promise by appearing in Galilee, every charge can be escaped, both things being done at once in love and in truth. But the words in Matthew about the disciples, “that they should go to Galilee, and there they will see me,” seem to me to carry great significance. For while there would be many appearances to them, the promise looks to one as exceptional beyond the others, in which he was to appear to them on the mountain. For then, when they had come to him and worshiped him, though some doubted, he said with an authority worthy of God: “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth.” What he had by nature as God, he is said to receive, by way of the dispensation, as having become man. That is why he also said: “Glorify me, Father, in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world was.” For if he had not had it as his own as God, it would have been impossible for him to receive it as another's, since God the Father says through the prophet: “My glory I will not give to another.” And then he adds the words by which they were to draw the whole world into their net, and in which lies the whole mystery of godliness: “Go,” he says, “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” And he then adds the words that guarantee the end and outcome of these words: “And behold, I am with you all the days, until the end of the age. Amen.” For this reason he said, “Tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me,” pointing, as I said, to this sight as one peculiar and exceptional, which he had also announced to them beforehand more fully in other words not included in the Gospel writings. For if this were not so, Matthew would not have said, “The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them,” since nowhere in the Gospels does the Lord promise to make his appearance on the mountain. For before this sight on the mountain he also appeared to them by the Sea of Tiberias, which is in Galilee, when they were seven in number, Peter and Thomas and Nathanael and the sons of Zebedee and two others of the disciples, as John wrote. But “there they will see me” looked to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them, where, in a manner worthy of God, he commanded: “Go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” And it does not seem to me beside the point that these words were spoken on the mountain of Galilee and not somewhere else. For “Galilee,” translated into the Greek tongue, means “rolled down”; that is why the wheel is called gelgel. Just as, then, from a high mountain

these words, brought forth from the Savior's mouth, rolled like a wheel over the world and ran through all of it; and all were baptized, nations and cities, “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” But having heard these words, the disciples did not go at once to any nation, but stayed in Jerusalem until Pentecost, waiting for the coming of the Holy Spirit, who came upon them in tongues of fire. For so, appearing to them in various ways over forty days and staying with them, as Luke says at the beginning of the book of Acts, he charged and commanded them, saying: “Do not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which you heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized in the Holy Spirit.” “Do not depart” is very well put: that is, do not go far away or get to a distance; he did not say not to leave Jerusalem at all. For how could he say this, who had commanded them to go to Galilee? And what is said at the end of the Gospel by Luke, “And it came to pass, while he was blessing them, he parted from them and was carried up into heaven,” and likewise what is written in Mark, “So then the Lord, after speaking to them, was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God,” must be understood to have taken place on the fortieth day, as recorded in the Acts. For what they said in shortened form in the Gospels is spread out and made clear in the breadth of the history. These are the things contained in the Gospel readings of the night of the Lord's day, which can trouble one who does not understand, and which we have laid before you as a debt we owed. What you ought to do, having heard them, I blush to say, when I consider the rush to the shows and the frenzy of the many. May the Lord give us power to turn away from evil and do good, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power with the Holy Spirit, now and always and to the ages.

On holy Easter, and on the resurrection; delivered on the great Lord's day.

Poor people who love feasts welcome public festivals with eager souls and a proud bearing; and even if they cannot afford by themselves the splendor they are eager for, they collect every kind of finery from their relatives and acquaintances, and so make themselves lack nothing for the occasion at hand. This, I think, is what I experience on the present day. For having nothing magnificent in my