Homilies on John, Homily 3

“In the beginning was the Word.” [1.] There is no need to urge you any further to listen attentively: your actions have so quickly shown the effects of my advice. The way you hurry together, your attentive posture, the way you push one another in your eagerness to reach the places farther inside, where you can hear my voice more clearly, your unwillingness to leave the crowd until this spiritual assembly has ended, your clapping and murmurs of applause—in a word, all these things can be taken as proof of the fervor of your souls and your desire to hear. So there is no need to urge you about this. There is, however, one thing we must ask and plead with you to do: keep this same zeal, and show it not only here but also at home, where husband and wife, father and son, should discuss these matters. Offer some thoughts of your own, and ask them to offer some in return, so that everyone contributes to this excellent banquet. Let no one tell me that our children should not occupy themselves with these things. They should not only occupy themselves with them, but devote their zeal to these things alone. And although, because of your weakness, I do not insist on this or take them away from their worldly studies, just as I do not draw you away from your everyday business, still, out of these seven days, I claim one for you to dedicate to the common Lord of us all. Isn't it strange that we demand that our servants slave for us all the time, while we ourselves give God not even a little of our leisure—and this when all our service adds nothing to Him, (for the Godhead can lack nothing,) but benefits us? Yet when you take your children to the theaters, you raise no objection about their mathematics lessons or anything like that. But if they are asked to gain or gather anything spiritual, you call it a waste of time. And how can you fail to anger God if you find leisure and set aside time for everything else, yet think it burdensome and ill-timed for your children to take up what concerns Him? Do not do this, brothers and sisters, do not. It is precisely this age that most needs to hear these things. Because their minds are tender, children readily store up what is said, and what they hear is stamped like a seal on the wax of their minds. Besides, this is when their lives begin to lean toward vice or virtue. If someone leads them away from wickedness at the very gates and entrances of life, and takes them by the hand along the best road, he will establish in them a lasting habit that becomes a kind of nature. They will not easily change for the worse, even if they want to, because the force of habit draws them toward good actions. Thus we will see them become more worthy of respect than people who have grown old, and they will be more useful in public affairs, displaying in youth the qualities of the elderly. For, as I said before, those who enjoy hearing things like these and spend time in the company of such an Apostle cannot leave without receiving some great and remarkable benefit, whether the person sharing this table is a man, a woman, or a young person. If we train the animals we own with words and tame them that way, how much more can we accomplish this with human beings through this spiritual teaching, when both the remedy and the subject being healed differ so greatly in the two cases? For we are not as fierce as the beasts: their fierceness comes from nature, ours from choice. Nor do the words have the same power: in the first case their power comes from the human intellect; in the second, from the might and grace of the Spirit. Let anyone who despairs of himself consider the tame animals, and he will no longer feel this way. Let him come continually to this house of healing, always listen to the laws of the Spirit, and, on returning home, write in his mind what he has heard. Then his hopes will be bright and his confidence great, as he experiences his own progress. For when the devil sees God's law written in the soul, and the heart turned into tablets for it to be written on, he will no longer approach. Wherever the King's writing is found, not engraved on a bronze pillar but stamped by the Holy Spirit on a mind that loves God and shines with abundant grace, that (evil one) will not even be able to look at it, but will turn his back on us from far away. For nothing is so terrifying to him and to the thoughts he suggests as a mind attentive to Divine things and a soul that constantly bends over this fountain. Nothing in the present can trouble such a person, even if it is unpleasant; nothing can puff him up or make him proud, even if it is favorable. Amid all this storm and surging sea, he will enjoy a deep calm. [2.] For turmoil arises within us from the weakness of our minds, not from the nature of our circumstances. If what happens to us caused this distress, then, (since we all sail the same sea, and it is impossible to escape the waves and spray,) everyone would necessarily be troubled. But if some people stand beyond the reach of the storm and the raging sea, then clearly it is the condition of our own minds, not our circumstances, that creates the storm. If, then, we arrange our minds to bear everything contentedly, we will have no storm, not even a ripple, but always a clear calm. After declaring that I would say nothing about these points, I do not know how I have been carried away into such a long exhortation. Forgive me for speaking at such length. For I am afraid—yes, deeply afraid—that this zeal of ours may someday grow weaker. If I felt confident about it, I would have said nothing to you about these matters now, since that zeal is enough to make everything easy for you. But it is time to move on to the matters set before us today, so that you do not enter the contest tired. For we face contests against the enemies of the truth, against those who use every trick to destroy the honor of the Son of God—or rather, their own honor. His honor remains forever as it is now, diminished in no way by the blaspheming tongue. But by eagerly trying to pull down Him whom they claim to worship, they cover their faces with shame and fill their souls with punishment. What, then, do they say when we make the assertion we have made? “The words ‘in the beginning was the Word’ do not mean eternity in an absolute sense, because this same expression was also used about heaven and earth.” What enormous shamelessness and irreverence! I am speaking to you about God, and you bring the earth into the argument, and people who are of the earth? By this reasoning, since Christ is called Son of God and God, a human being who is called Son of God must also be God. For, “I have said, You are Gods, and all of you are children of the Most High.” ( Ps. lxxxii. 6.) Will you dispute Sonship with the Only-Begotten and claim that in this respect He has nothing more than you? “Certainly not,” comes the reply. Yet you are doing exactly this, even if you do not say so in words. “How?” Because you say that you share in adoption by grace, and that He does so in the same way. For by saying that He is not Son by nature, you make Him Son only by grace. Still, let us examine the proofs they offer us. “In the beginning,” it says, “God made heaven and earth, and the earth was invisible and unformed.” ( Gen. i. 2.) And, “There ‘was’ a man of Ramathaim Zophim.” ( 1 Sam. i. 1.) These are what they consider strong arguments, and they are strong—but they prove the correctness of the doctrines we assert, while they are completely powerless to establish their blasphemy. Tell me, what does the word “was” have in common with the word “made”? What does God have in common with a human being? Why do you mix things that cannot be mixed? Why confuse things that are distinct? Why bring down what is above? In that passage, it is not simply the expression “was” that indicates eternity, but the statement that One “was in the beginning.” And there is also the statement, “The Word was.” Just as the word “being,” when used of a human being, marks only the present time, but when used of God indicates eternity, so “was,” when used of our nature, signifies past time, and a limited past at that; but when used of God, it declares eternity. Once someone heard the words “earth” and “man,” it should have been enough to think nothing more about them than what can properly be thought of a nature that came into being. For whatever has come into being has done so either in time or in the age before time existed. But the Son of God is above not only times but all the ages before them, for He is their Creator and Maker, as the Apostle says, “through whom He also made the ages.” Now the Maker necessarily exists before the thing made. Yet because some people are so senseless that even after this they think more highly of creatures than they should, the expressions “He made” and “there was a man” take hold of the hearer's mind in advance and tear out all shamelessness by the roots. For everything that has been made, both heaven and earth, has been made in time and has its beginning in time. None of these things is without beginning, since they have been made. So when you hear that “He made the earth” and that “there was a man,” you are wasting your time with trifles and weaving a fabric of useless folly. I can take the argument even further. How? Even if it had been said of the earth, “In the beginning was the earth,” and of a human being, “In the beginning was the man,” we still should not have imagined anything greater about them than what we have already established. For the terms “earth” and “man,” which are already given, do not allow the mind, whatever may be said about them, to imagine anything greater about them than what we now know. In the same way, “the Word,” even when little is said of It, does not allow us to think (respecting It) anything low or insignificant. For as he continues, he says of the earth, “The earth was invisible and unformed.” Having said that “He made” it, and having established its proper limits, he then states what follows without fear. He knows that no one is so foolish as to suppose it is without beginning and uncreated, since the word “earth” and the word “made” are enough to convince even a very simple person that it is neither eternal nor uncreated, but one of the things created in time. [3.] Besides, the expression “was,” when applied to the earth and to a human being, does not indicate existence in an absolute sense. In the case of a man, (it denotes) his being from a particular place; in the case of the earth, its being in a particular condition. For he did not simply say “the earth was” and stop there, but explained what it was like even after its creation: it was “invisible and unformed,” still covered by water and in disorder. So too with Elkanah: he does not merely say “there was a man,” but adds where he was from, “of Ramathaim Zophim.” But with “the Word,” it is different. I am ashamed to compare these cases with one another. For if we criticize those who make such comparisons between human beings when those being compared differ greatly in virtue, even though their substance is in fact one, isn't it the height of madness to raise such questions where the difference in nature and everything else is so infinite? But may He whom they blaspheme be merciful to us. For we did not create the need for such discussions. Those who wage war against their own salvation forced it on us. What, then, am I saying? That the first “was,” applied to “the Word,” indicates only His eternal Being, (for he says, “In the beginning was the Word,”) while the second “was,” (“and the Word was with God,”) indicates His Being in relation to God. For since being eternal and without beginning belongs most distinctively to God, he puts this first. Then, so that no one who hears that He was “in the beginning” will claim that He was also “unbegotten,” he immediately guards against this by saying, before declaring what He was, that He was “with God.” And he keeps anyone from supposing that this “Word” is merely a word spoken aloud or conceived in the mind, both by adding the article, as I said before, and by this second expression. For he does not say that He was “in God,” but that He was “with God,” declaring to us His eternity as a person. Then, as he goes on, he reveals this more clearly by adding that this “Word” also “was God.” “But still created,” someone may say. What, then, kept him from saying, “In the beginning God made the Word”? Moses, at least, when speaking of the earth, does not say, “In the beginning was the earth,” but that “He made it,” and then it existed. What kept John from saying in the same way, “In the beginning God made the Word”? For if Moses feared that someone might claim the earth was uncreated, John should have feared this much more about the Son, if He really was created. The world, because it is visible, proclaims its Maker by that very fact, (“the heavens,” says the Psalmist, “declare the glory of God”— Ps. xix. 1 ), but the Son is invisible and is far above all creation—infinitely above it. Now if, in the one case, where we needed neither argument nor teaching to know that the world is created, the prophet nevertheless states this clearly and before everything else, John should all the more have declared the same about the Son, if He really had been created. “Yes,” someone may say, “but Peter stated this clearly and openly.” Where and when? “When he spoke to the Jews and said that ‘God has made Him both Lord and Christ.’” ( Acts ii. 36.) Why do you not add what follows: “That same Jesus whom you crucified”? Or do you not know that some of these words refer to His unmixed Nature, and others to His Incarnation? But if that is not so, and you insist on understanding everything as referring to the Godhead, you will make the Godhead capable of suffering. But if it is not capable of suffering, then it is not created. For if blood had flowed from that divine and ineffable Nature, and if that Nature, rather than the flesh, had been torn and pierced by the nails on the cross, your quibbling would have some basis on that assumption. But if not even the devil himself could utter such a blasphemy, why do you pretend an ignorance so inexcusable that not even the evil spirits themselves could pretend it? Besides, the expressions “Lord” and “Christ” refer to His dignity, not His Essence: the one refers to His Power, the other to His having been anointed. What, then, would you say about the Son of God? For even if He were created, as you claim, this argument would not apply. He was not first created and afterward chosen by God, nor does He hold a kingdom that could be set aside, but one that belongs by nature to His Essence. For when asked whether He was a King, He answers, “For this purpose I was born.” ( c. xviii. 37.) But Peter speaks of Him as one chosen because his whole argument concerns the Dispensation. [4.] And why are you surprised that Peter says this? Paul too, when reasoning with the Athenians, calls Him only “Man,” saying, “By that Man whom He has appointed, giving assurance to everyone by raising Him from the dead.” ( Acts xvii. 31.) He says nothing about “the form of God” ( Philip. ii. 6 ), or that He was “equal to Him,” or that He was the “brightness of His glory.” ( Heb. i. 3.) And with good reason. The time for words like these had not yet come. For the moment, he would have been content for them to acknowledge that He was Man and that He had risen from the dead. Christ Himself acted in the same way, and Paul learned this restraint from Him. For He did not reveal His Divinity to us all at once, but was at first considered a Prophet and a good man. Afterward, His real nature was shown through His works and words. This is why Peter also used this method at first, (for this was the first sermon he gave to the Jews;) and because they were not yet able to understand anything clearly about His Godhead, he dwelt on the arguments concerning His Incarnation, so that, as their ears became accustomed to these, a way might open for the rest of his teaching. Anyone who goes through the entire sermon from the beginning will find what I am saying quite evident. For he (Peter) calls Him “Man” and dwells on the accounts of His Passion, His Resurrection, and His generation according to the flesh. Paul too, when he says, “Who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh” ( Rom. i. 3 ), simply teaches us that the word “made” is used with reference to His Incarnation, as we acknowledge. But the son of thunder is now speaking to us about His Ineffable and Eternal Existence, and therefore leaves out the word “made” and uses “was.” Yet if He were created, this would have been the point he most needed to establish. For Paul feared that some foolish people might suppose that He would be greater than the Father and that the Father who begot Him would be made subject to Him. (This is why the Apostle writes to the Corinthians, “But when He says, All things are put under Him, it is clear that He who put all things under Him is excepted.” Yet who could possibly imagine that the Father would be subject to the Son along with everything else?) If, I say, Paul nevertheless feared these foolish notions and said, “He who put all things under Him is excepted,” then, if the Son of God really were created, John should have feared much more that someone might suppose Him uncreated, and should have taught this point before any other. But as it is, since He was Begotten, John rightly never asserted that He was created, nor did any other apostle or prophet. If it had been so, the Only-Begotten Himself would not have left it unmentioned either. For He who spoke so humbly of Himself out of condescension would certainly not have been silent about this. And I think it reasonable to suppose that He would be more likely to possess the higher Nature and say nothing about it than, without possessing it, to let this omission stand and fail to make known that He did not possess it. In the first case, there was a good reason for silence: His desire to teach humanity humility by keeping silent about the greatness of His attributes. But in the second case, you can find no just excuse for silence. For why would He who declined to claim many of His real attributes have kept silent about His having been made, if He were created? He who, to teach humility, often used humble expressions that did not properly belong to Him would all the more, if He really had been created, have spoken about this. Do you not see how, so that no one will imagine He was not begotten, He does and says everything to show that He was, using words beneath both His dignity and His essence, and descending to the humble role of a Prophet? For the expression “As I hear, I judge” ( v. 30 ), and the other, “He has told Me what I should say and what I should speak” ( xii. 49 ), and similar expressions belong merely to a prophet. If, then, in His desire to remove this suspicion, He did not refuse to use such humble words, He would all the more, if He were created, have said many similar things so that no one would suppose Him uncreated—for example, “Do not think that I am begotten of the Father; I am created, not begotten, nor do I share His essence.” But as it is, He does the very opposite and speaks words that compel people, even against their will and desire, to accept the opposite view. For example, “I am in the Father, and the Father in Me” ( xiv. 11 ); and, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know Me, Philip? Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father.” ( xiv. 9.) And, “That everyone should honor the Son just as they honor the Father.” ( v. 23.) “As the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so the Son gives life to whomever He wills.” ( v. 21.) “My Father has been working until now, and I work.” ( v. 17.) “As the Father knows Me, so I know the Father.” ( x. 15.) “I and My Father are One.” ( x. 30.) Everywhere, by using “as” and “so” and “being with the Father,” He declares His unvarying likeness to Him. Through these words and many others, He reveals the power He has in Himself, as when He says, “Peace, be still.” ( Mark iv. 39.) “I am willing; be clean.” ( Matt. viii. 3.) “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him.” ( Mark ix. 25.) And again, “You have heard that it was said by people long ago, You shall not kill; but I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause will be in danger.” ( Matt. v. 21, 22.) All the other laws He gave and wonders He worked are enough to show His power. Or rather, I should say, a very small portion of them is enough to win over and convince anyone except the utterly senseless. [5.] But the craving for empty glory has the power to blind the minds of those caught in it even to the clearest truths, and to persuade them to dispute what others acknowledge. Indeed, it drives some who know the truth and are convinced of it to pretend ignorance and opposition. This happened with the Jews: they denied the Son of God, not through ignorance, but to gain honor from the crowd. “They believed,” says the Evangelist, but were afraid “that they would be put out of the synagogue.” ( xii. 42.) And so they surrendered their salvation to others. For anyone who is such a devoted slave to the glory of this present world cannot obtain the glory that comes from God. That is why He rebuked them, saying, “How can you believe, when you receive honor from people and do not seek the honor that comes from God?” ( v. 44.) This passion is a kind of deep intoxication, and it makes anyone overcome by it hard to restore. After detaching its captives' souls from heavenly things, it nails them to the earth and does not let them look up to the true light. Instead, it persuades them to wallow constantly in the mud, giving them masters so powerful that they rule them without needing to issue commands. For someone suffering from this disease willingly does, without being told, everything he thinks will please his masters. For their sake he wears expensive clothes and beautifies his face, taking these pains for others rather than for himself. He leads a procession of followers through the marketplace so that others will admire him, and everything he does is done merely to servilely please the rest of the world. Could any state of mind be more miserable? To make others admire him, he is constantly being hurled toward ruin. Do you want to learn what a tyrannical rule it exercises? Surely Christ's words are enough to show it all. Still, listen to these further observations. If you ask any of those who engage in public affairs and incur great expenses why they spend so much gold and what their enormous spending means, you will hear that its only purpose is to please the people. If you then ask what the people are like, they will say that they are a confused and turbulent mass, mostly made up of foolishness, tossed blindly back and forth like the waves of the sea, and often composed of shifting and opposing opinions. Isn't someone with such a master more pitiable than anyone else? Yet strange as this is, it is less strange that worldly people should pursue these things than that those who say they have withdrawn from the world should suffer from the same disease—or rather, an even more serious one. That is the strangest thing of all. With the first group, the loss extends only to money; with the second, the danger reaches the soul. For when people change a right faith for the sake of reputation and dishonor God so that they themselves may be highly regarded, tell me, what extreme of stupidity and madness is missing from their behavior? Other passions, even if they are very harmful, at least bring some pleasure, however temporary and fleeting. Those who love money, wine, or women have some pleasure along with their harm, though it is brief. But those captured by this passion live a life constantly embittered and stripped of enjoyment, because they do not obtain what they eagerly desire—I mean glory from the crowd. They think they enjoy it, but they do not really, because what they aim at is not glory at all. That is why this state of mind is called not glory, but empty glory—something devoid of glory. That is what all the ancients called it, and with good reason, because it is completely empty and contains nothing bright or glorious within it. Actors' masks appear bright and lovely, but are hollow inside (which is why, though they are more beautiful than natural faces, they never make anyone fall in love with them). In the same way—or rather, in an even more miserable way—the applause of the crowd has dressed up this passion for us, dangerous as an opponent and cruel as a master. Only its face is bright. Inside, it does not even have the mask's mere emptiness, but is crammed with dishonor and full of savage tyranny. Where, then, someone may ask, does this passion, so unreasonable and so empty of pleasure, originate? Where else but in a low, petty soul? Someone captivated by the love of applause cannot readily conceive anything great or noble. He must be base, small-minded, dishonorable, and petty. If someone does nothing for virtue's sake, but only to please people unworthy of consideration, and always gives weight to their mistaken and misguided opinions, how can he be worth anything? Consider this: if someone asked him, “What do you think of the crowd?” he would clearly say, “They are thoughtless and deserve no attention.” Then if someone asked him, “Would you choose to be like them?” I do not suppose he could possibly want to be like them. Isn't it, then, utterly ridiculous to seek the good opinion of people you would never choose to resemble? [6.] Do you say that they are numerous and form a collective body? That is precisely why you should despise them all the more. If they are contemptible when taken one at a time, they will be even more so when there are many of them. For when they gather together, their individual foolishness increases with their numbers and becomes greater. Someone might take one of them aside and set him right, but could not do so when they are together, because their foolishness then becomes intense, and they are led like sheep, following one another's opinions in every direction. Tell me, will you seek this glory from the crowd? Do not, I beg and plead with you. It turns everything upside down. It is the mother of greed, slander, false witness, and treachery. It arms and enrages people who have suffered no injury against those who have inflicted none. Anyone who has fallen into this disease neither knows friendship nor remembers old companionship, and does not know how to respect anyone at all. He has thrown all goodness out of his soul and is at war with everyone, unstable and without natural affection. Again, the passion of anger, tyrannical and hard to bear as it is, does not trouble us constantly, but only when there are people who provoke it. The craving for empty glory, however, is always active, and there is, one might say, no time when it stops, since reason neither hinders nor restrains it. It is always with us, not only persuading us to sin but snatching from our hands whatever we may happen to do right, or sometimes keeping us from doing right at all. If Paul calls greed idolatry, what should we call its mother, root, and source—I mean the craving for empty glory? We cannot possibly find a name that its wickedness deserves. Beloved, let us come to our senses now. Let us take off this filthy garment; let us tear it and cut it away from us. Let us finally become free with true freedom and recognize the nobility God has given us. Let us despise applause from the crowd. For nothing is so ridiculous and disgraceful as this passion, nothing so full of shame and dishonor. There are many ways to see that loving honor is dishonor, and that true honor consists in disregarding honor, giving it no weight, and saying and doing everything according to what seems good to God. In this way we will be able to receive a reward from Him who sees everything we do exactly as it is, if we are content to have Him alone as our spectator. Why do we need other eyes when He who will award the prize is always watching our actions? Isn't it strange that a servant does whatever he does to please his master, seeks nothing beyond his master's notice, and has no desire to draw other eyes to his conduct (even if those watching are great men), but aims only to be noticed by his master, while we, who have such a great Lord, seek other spectators who can do us no good, but instead harm us by watching and make all our labor useless? Do not do this, I beg you. Let us invite Him from whom we will receive our rewards to watch and applaud our actions. Let us have nothing to do with human eyes. For even if we wish to attain this honor, we will attain it when we seek the honor that comes from God alone. For He says, “Those who honor Me, I will honor.” ( 1 Sam. ii. 30 .) Just as we are best supplied with riches when we despise them and seek only the wealth that comes from God, (“Seek,” he says, “the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you”— Matt. vi. 33 ), so it is with honor. When giving us riches or honor no longer endangers us, God gives them freely. And they pose no danger when they do not rule us or have power over us, when they do not command us as slaves, but belong to us as masters and free people. For He wants us not to love them so that we will not be ruled by them; and if we succeed in this, He gives them to us very generously. Tell me, what is more radiant than Paul when he says, “We do not seek honor from people, either from you or from others”? ( 1 Thess. ii. 6.) Who, then, is richer than someone who has nothing and yet possesses everything? For, as I said, when these things do not master us, we will master them; then we will receive them. If, then, we desire to obtain honor, let us avoid honor. In this way, after fulfilling God's laws, we will be able to obtain both the good things here and those that have been promised, by the grace of Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory forever and ever. Amen.