Homilies on Matthew, Homily 30

“As Jesus went on from there, He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and He said to him, Follow me.” After He performed the miracle, He did not stay, so that His continued presence would not stir up their jealousy even more. Instead, He accommodated them by withdrawing and calming their anger. Let us do the same: instead of confronting those who are plotting against us, let us soothe their wound by giving way and easing their fury. But why did He not call him along with Peter and John and the rest? Just as He came to them when He knew they would obey Him, so He called Matthew when He was sure he would respond. And so, after the resurrection, He caught Paul too, as a fisherman catches his prey. For He who knows hearts and the secrets of each person’s mind also knew when each of them would obey. That is why He did not call Matthew at the beginning, when he was still rather hardened, but after His countless miracles and the widespread reports about Him, when He knew Matthew had actually become more ready to obey. We also have reason to admire the evangelist’s self-denial: he does not disguise his former life, but even adds his name, while the others had concealed his identity under another name. But why did he say he was “sitting at the tax booth”? To show the power of Him who called him: He drew him up out of the very midst of these evils, before he had stopped or abandoned this wicked trade. In much the same way, He converted blessed Paul while he was frantic, raging, and shooting out fire. Paul himself offers this as proof of the power of Him who called him, saying to the Galatians, “You have heard of my former way of life in the Jewish religion, how I persecuted the church of God beyond all measure.” He also called the fishermen while they were at work. Their trade, however, was not disreputable; it belonged to men who were rather roughly brought up, who did not mix with others, and who possessed great simplicity. The occupation we are discussing, on the other hand, was full of every kind of insolence and boldness, a way of making money that could not be honestly defended, a shameless business, robbery under the cover of law. Nevertheless, He who called him was ashamed of none of these things. And why speak of His not being ashamed of a tax collector? Even with a prostitute, He was so far from being ashamed to call her that He actually allowed her to kiss His feet and wet them with her tears. Yes, this is why He came: to cure not only bodies, but also the wickedness of the soul. He did this in the paralytic’s case as well. Only after clearly showing that He can forgive sins did He come to the man we are now discussing, so that they would no longer be troubled to see a tax collector chosen to join the company of disciples. For if He has the power to wipe away all our offenses, why be amazed if He even makes this man an apostle? But just as you have seen the power of Him who called, consider also the obedience of the man who was called. He neither resisted nor argued, saying, “What is this? Surely this call He is giving me must be deceptive, considering the sort of man I am?” No; such humility, too, would have been out of place. Instead, he obeyed at once, without even asking to go home and discuss the matter with his relatives. Neither did the fishermen. Just as they left their net, their boat, and their father, so he left his tax booth and his earnings and followed, showing a mind ready for anything. He broke away at once from all worldly things, and through his complete obedience he testified that He who called him had chosen the right time. And why, someone may ask, has he not told us about the others too, how and in what way they were called, but only about Peter and James and John and Philip, and nowhere about the others? Because these men, more than the others, had such unusual and lowly ways of life. For nothing is worse than the tax collector’s business, or more ordinary than fishing. And Philip’s hometown makes it clear that he too was of very humble standing. That is why they tell us especially about these men and their ways of life: to show that we should also believe the glorious parts of their accounts. For if they choose not to pass over anything considered shameful, but take greater care to report these things than anything else, whether they concern the Teacher or the disciples, how can they be suspected when they recount things that inspire reverence? Especially since they pass over many signs and miracles, while carefully and openly proclaiming the events of the cross, which were considered disgraceful. They also plainly reveal the disciples’ occupations and faults, and those of their Master’s ancestors who were notorious for their sins. This makes it clear that they valued truth highly and wrote nothing to win favor or impress anyone. 2. After calling him, He also gave him a very great honor by immediately sharing his table. In this way He would both give him good hope for the future and lead him to greater confidence. For He healed his vice at once, without a long delay. And He sits down to eat not only with him, but with many others too, although this very thing was held against Him: that He did not drive sinners away. Nor do the evangelists conceal this point, or the sort of blame people tried to attach to His actions. Now the tax collectors gather as they would at the home of someone in their own trade, for Matthew, overjoyed at Christ’s arrival, had called them all together. The fact is, Christ tried every kind of treatment. Not only while speaking, healing, or rebuking His enemies, but even at His morning meal, He would often correct people who were on the wrong path. In this way He taught us that every occasion and every activity can offer us some benefit. And surely what was set before them then came from injustice and greed. Yet Christ did not refuse to share it, because the benefit that would follow was to be great. Indeed, He even shares a roof and a table with those who have committed such offenses. For that is what a physician does: unless he puts up with the diseased condition of the sick, he cannot free them from their illness. And yet this undoubtedly gave Him a bad reputation: first, because He ate with him; second, because it was in Matthew’s house; and third, because many tax collectors were there. Just look at how they reproach Him for it: “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.” Let everyone who strives to win great honor through fasting hear this and consider that our Lord was called “a glutton and a drunkard.” He was not ashamed, but disregarded all these things so that He could accomplish what He had set out to do. And that is exactly what happened. The tax collector was actually converted and became a better man. To learn that this great change came about through sharing a table with Him, listen to what Zacchaeus, another tax collector, says. When he heard Christ say, “Today I must stay at your house,” his delight gave him wings, and he said, “I give half my possessions to the poor, and if I have taken anything from anyone by false accusation, I repay him four times as much.” And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house.” So it is possible to teach in every way. But how is it, someone may ask, that Paul commands, “If anyone who is called a brother is sexually immoral or greedy, do not even eat with such a person”? First, it is not yet clear whether he gives this command to teachers too, or only to the brothers. Next, these people were not yet among the perfect, nor among those who had become brothers. Besides, even regarding those who had become brothers, Paul commands us to withdraw from them when they continue as they were; but these people had now stopped and had been converted. 3. But none of these things put the Pharisees to shame. Instead, they accuse Him to His disciples, saying, “Why does your Master eat with tax collectors and sinners?” And when the disciples seem to be doing wrong, they appeal to Him, saying, “Look, your disciples are doing what is not lawful to do on the Sabbath.” But here they discredit Him to the disciples. All this was the behavior of people acting craftily and wanting to separate the company of disciples from their Master. What, then, does Infinite Wisdom say? “Healthy people do not need a physician,” He says, “but sick people do.” See how He turned their reasoning toward the opposite conclusion. While they accused Him of keeping company with these men, He says instead that failing to be with them would be unworthy of Him and His love for humanity. Reforming such people is not only blameless, but excellent, necessary, and worthy of every kind of praise. Then, so that He would not seem to shame the guests by saying “sick people,” see how He makes up for it by rebuking the others and saying, “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” He said this to reproach them for their ignorance of the Scriptures. That is also why He speaks more sharply—not because He Himself was angry, far from it, but so that the tax collectors would not be left utterly bewildered. Of course, He could have said, “Did you not notice how I forgave the paralytic’s sins and strengthened his body?” But He says nothing of the kind. Instead, He reasons with them first from ordinary human experience and then from the Scriptures. After saying, “Healthy people do not need a physician, but sick people do,” and indirectly indicating that He Himself was the Physician, He said, “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” Paul does the same: after first establishing his argument with illustrations from everyday life and saying, “Who tends a flock and does not drink its milk?” he then brings in the Scriptures too, saying, “It is written in the law of Moses, You shall not muzzle the ox that treads out the grain”; and again, “In the same way, the Lord has ordained that those who preach the gospel should live from the gospel.” With His disciples, however, He does something different: He reminds them of His signs, saying, “Do you not yet remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many baskets you picked up?” But with these men He reminds them of our common weakness, and indicates that they, at any rate, are among the weak. They did not even know the Scriptures, but made light of all the rest of virtue and placed all their emphasis on sacrifices. He also presses this point on them when He briefly states what all the prophets had affirmed, saying, “Learn what this means: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” In fact, He is showing that they, rather than He, were breaking the law. It is as though He had said, “Why do you accuse me? Because I lead sinners to reform? Then you must accuse the Father of this too.” Much as He said elsewhere to establish this point, “My Father has been working until now, and I work,” so here again He says, “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” “For just as this is His will,” Christ says, “so it is mine.” Do you see how one is unnecessary and the other essential? He did not say, “I desire mercy and sacrifice,” but “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” That is, He accepted the one and rejected the other. He proved that what they blamed was not forbidden at all, but was actually commanded by the law, even more than sacrifice. And He brings forward the Old Testament, whose words and laws agree with His own. After rebuking them through both everyday illustrations and the Scriptures, He adds, “I have not come to call righteous people, but sinners to repentance.” He says this to them ironically, as when He said, “Look, Adam has become like one of us”; and again, “If I were hungry, I would not tell you.” For Paul declared that no one on earth was righteous, saying, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” This also comforted the others, I mean the guests. “Why,” He says, “I am so far from loathing sinners that I have come for their sake alone.” Then, so that He would not make them more careless, He did not stop at the word “sinners,” but added “to repentance.” “For I have not come so that they may remain sinners, but so that they may change and reform.” 4. He had now silenced them in every way, both from the Scriptures and from the natural implications of the facts. They had nothing to say, having been proved guilty of the very charges they had brought against Him, and shown to be opponents of the law and the Old Testament. So they leave Him and once again turn their accusation against the disciples. Luke says that the Pharisees said this, while this evangelist says it was John’s disciples; but both probably said it. That is, being utterly at a loss, as one would expect, they enlist the other group, just as they later did with the Herodians. For John’s disciples were always inclined to be jealous of Him and to argue against Him. They were humbled only when John was first in prison. At that time, at least, they came “and told Jesus”; but afterward they returned to their former envy. Now what do they say? “Why do we and the Pharisees fast often, while your disciples do not fast?” This is the disease Christ had long before been rooting out with the words, “When you fast, anoint your head and wash your face,” knowing beforehand the evils that arise from it. Yet He does not rebuke even these men, or say, “You vain busybodies!” Instead, He speaks to them with complete gentleness, saying, “The attendants of the bridal chamber cannot fast as long as the bridegroom is with them.” Thus, when He had to speak in defense of others—the tax collectors, I mean—He rebuked their attackers more severely to soothe their wounded souls. But when they mocked Him and His disciples, He answered with complete gentleness. What they mean is this: “Granted,” they say, “you do this as a physician; but why do Your disciples also give up fasting and keep coming to such tables?” Then, to make the accusation more serious, they put themselves first and the Pharisees second, hoping to strengthen the charge by comparison. For they say, “Both we and the Pharisees fast often.” And they did indeed fast: one group had learned it from John, the other from the law, just as the Pharisee also said, “I fast twice a week.” What, then, does Jesus say? “Can the attendants of the bridal chamber fast while the bridegroom is with them?” Earlier He called Himself a physician, but here a bridegroom, revealing His unspeakable mysteries through these names. Of course, He could have told them more sharply, “These matters are not yours to decide; you have no authority to make such laws. For what use is fasting when your mind is full of wickedness, when you blame and condemn others while carrying beams in your own eyes, and do everything for show? Before all this, you ought to have rid yourselves of the desire for praise and learned to practice all the other duties well—love, gentleness, and brotherly love.” But He says nothing of the kind. Instead, with complete gentleness, He says, “The attendants of the bridal chamber cannot fast as long as the bridegroom is with them,” reminding them of John’s words: “He who has the bride is the bridegroom, but the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears Him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice.” His meaning is this: The present is a time of joy and gladness, so do not bring in things that cause sadness. For fasting is a sad thing, not by its own nature, but to those who are still rather weak. To those who are willing to practice self-control, at least, the observance is extremely pleasant and desirable. Just as bodily health brings high spirits, so a healthy soul brings even greater pleasure. But He speaks in terms of how they already viewed fasting. Isaiah likewise calls fasting “an affliction of the soul,” and Moses does the same. He silences them not only with this, but with another point as well, saying, “Days will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them, and then they will fast.” By this He shows that their behavior did not come from gluttony, but belonged to a marvelous divine plan. At the same time, He prepares the way for what He would say about His suffering, teaching His disciples through His disputes with others and beginning to train them to face things considered sorrowful. To have this said directly to them already would have been painful and distressing, since we know it troubled them when He said it later. But when it was spoken to others, it would be somewhat less unbearable for them. Since it was also natural for them to take pride in John’s misfortune, He uses this point to restrain their self-importance as well. He does not yet add the teaching about His resurrection, because the time had not yet come. For it was natural that someone thought to be a man should die; but rising from the dead was beyond nature. 5. Then He does here again what He had done before. When they tried to prove Him blameworthy for eating with sinners, He showed them instead that His conduct deserved not blame but outright praise. So here too, when they wanted to show that He did not know how to guide His disciples, He indicates that such talk came from people who did not know how to treat their followers, but found fault at random. “For no one,” He says, “puts a patch of new cloth on an old garment.” Once again He establishes His argument with illustrations from everyday life. What He means is this: “The disciples have not yet become strong, but still need a great deal of patient consideration. They have not yet been renewed by the Spirit, and people in that condition should not be burdened with commands.” He said these things to establish laws and rules for His own disciples, so that when they had to receive as disciples all kinds of people coming from the whole world, they would treat them very gently. “Nor do people put new wine into old wineskins.” Do you see how His illustrations resemble those of the Old Testament—the garment and the wineskins? Jeremiah too calls the people “a belt,” and also mentions “wineskins” and “wine.” So, since the discussion concerns gluttony and a table, He draws His illustrations from the same subject. But Luke adds something more: the new cloth is also torn if you put it on the old. Do you see that this brings no benefit, but instead makes the damage worse? And while He speaks about the present, He also foretells the future: they will later be new, but until that happens, nothing harsh and burdensome should be imposed on them. For someone who tries to instill lofty teachings before the proper time, Christ says, will find that even when the time comes, his hearers are no longer ready for his purpose, because he has made them unfit once and for all. This happens through no fault of the wine or of those who receive it, but because those who pour it in act at the wrong time. Here He has also taught us the reason for the lowly expressions He continually used when speaking with them. Because of their weakness, He said many things far below His own dignity. John also points this out when he reports Him saying, "I have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now." Here, so that they would not suppose that what He had said was all there was, but would conceive of other things, far greater as well, He set their own weakness before them, promising that when they had become strong, He would tell them the rest too. He says the same thing here: "Days will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them, and then they will fast." 6. So let us not demand everything from everyone at the beginning, but only as much as is possible; then we will soon make our way to the rest. But if you are pressing and in a hurry, that is precisely why I tell you not to press: because you are in a hurry. If this saying seems like a riddle to you, learn from the nature of the matter itself, and then you will see its full force. Do not let anyone who finds fault at the wrong time sway you. Here too, the critics were Pharisees and those criticized were disciples; nevertheless, none of this persuaded Christ to reverse His judgment. Nor did He say, "It is a disgrace for these people to fast while those do not." Christ acted like a skilled ship’s pilot who pays attention to his skill in steering rather than the turbulent waves. For the real disgrace would have been for them to suffer wounds in vital places because of fasting, and to be cut off and broken away, rather than to refrain from fasting. Let us bear these things in mind too and treat everyone in our care accordingly. Suppose you have a wife who loves dressing up, who longs eagerly for ways to paint her face, who is given over to great luxury, talkative, and foolish (of course, all these things cannot occur together in one woman; still, let us construct such a woman in our discussion). "Why, then," someone may ask, "are you portraying a woman rather than a man?" There are men worse than this woman too. But since authority is entrusted to men, we are portraying a woman for the present, not because vice is more common among women. For many things are found among men that are not found among women: murder, for instance, breaking into tombs, fighting with wild beasts, and many other things like these. So do not think we are doing this because we look down on the sex. That is not it, that is not it; this was simply a convenient way to sketch the picture for the present. Let us suppose, then, that there is such a woman, and let her husband make every effort to reform her. How will he do it? By giving her the easier instructions first, concerning matters that do not have a powerful hold on her, rather than ordering everything at once. For if you rush to reform her completely at the beginning, you have ruined everything. So do not take away her gold ornaments at once. Let her keep them and wear them for a time, since this seems a lesser evil than her face paints and shading. Let these be removed first, and even these through persuasion and gentleness rather than fear and threats, by criticizing others and expressing your own opinion and judgment. Tell her continually that you find a face made up in this way unattractive, even deeply unpleasant, and above all convince her that this troubles you. After giving your own opinion, bring in the judgment of others too, and say that even beautiful women are commonly disfigured by this, so that you may root out the passion. Say nothing yet about hell or the kingdom, for you will speak of these things in vain. Instead, convince her that she pleases you more by showing God’s work undisguised, while a woman who tortures, stretches, and smears her face does not appear lovely and beautiful even to people in general. First drive out this plague through ordinary reasoning and everyone’s judgment; then, when you have softened her with these words, add the other considerations too. And if you speak once without persuading her, do not tire of repeating the same words a second and third time, and often. But do it playfully, without becoming tiresome: sometimes turn away from her, and sometimes flatter her and give her romantic attention. Do you not see how much painters erase and how much they add when making a beautiful portrait? Well then, do not fall short of them. For if they take such great care in drawing the likeness of a body, how much more should we use every means available in shaping a soul? If you shape this soul’s form well, you will not see the body’s face looking ugly, or stained lips, or a mouth like a bear’s mouth dyed with blood, or eyebrows blackened as though with soot from a cooking pot, or cheeks whitened with dust like the walls of tombs. For all these things are soot, ashes, and dust, and signs of extreme ugliness. But wait: without noticing, I have somehow been carried into these expressions. While advising someone else to teach gently, I have myself been swept away into anger. So let us return to the gentler way of correction and bear with all our wives’ faults, so that we may accomplish what we wish. Do you not see how we bear with children’s cries when we want to wean them from the breast, how we endure everything for this one purpose, to persuade them to reject their former food? Let us do the same here, bearing with everything else so that we can accomplish this. For when this has been corrected, you will see the rest follow in proper order. You will return to the gold ornaments and reason about them in the same way. By gradually bringing your wife to the right standard, you will be a fine painter, a faithful servant, an excellent farmer. Along with these things, remind her of the women of ancient times, of Sarah and Rebekah, both the beautiful and those who were not, and point out how they all practiced modesty alike. Even Leah, the patriarch’s wife, who was not beautiful, did not feel compelled to devise anything like this. Although she was unattractive and not greatly loved by her husband, she neither devised anything of the kind nor spoiled her face, but continued to preserve her features undisfigured, even though she had been brought up by Gentiles. But you, a believing woman, with Christ as your head—are you introducing a satanic art among us? Do you not remember the water that washed over your face, the sacrifice that adorns your lips, the blood that has reddened your tongue? If you considered all these things, even if your love of dressing up were ten thousand times greater, you would neither dare nor bear to put that dust and those ashes on yourself. Recognize that you have been joined to Christ, and refrain from this ugliness. For He takes no delight in these colors, but seeks another beauty, which He loves deeply: the beauty of the soul. The prophet likewise charged you to cultivate this, saying, “Then the King will take pleasure in your beauty.” So let us not take such pains to make ourselves ugly. None of God’s works is imperfect or needs you to correct it. Even if someone tried to add his own work to an image of the emperor after it had been set up, the attempt would not be safe; he would put himself in extreme danger. Well then, when a man makes something, you add nothing; but when God makes something, do you correct it? Do you not consider the fire of hell? Do you not consider your soul’s poverty? For this is why it is neglected: all your care is wasted on the flesh. But why speak of the soul? Even for the flesh itself, everything turns out contrary to what you seek. Consider it. Do you want to appear beautiful? This makes you ugly. Do you want to please your husband? This instead grieves him, and makes not only him but strangers too accuse you. Do you want to appear young? This will quickly bring you to old age. Do you want to dress honorably? This brings you shame. For such a woman feels ashamed not only before those of her own rank, but even before the maids who share her secret and the servants who know about it—and, above all, before herself. But why do I need to say these things? I have left out what is more serious than everything else: you offend God, undermine modesty, kindle the flame of jealousy, and imitate the prostitutes in their brothel. Consider all these things, then, you women, and laugh with contempt at Satan’s pomp and the devil’s trickery. Give up this adorning—or rather, disfiguring—and cultivate in your own souls the beauty that is lovely even to angels, desired by God, and delightful to your husbands, so that you may attain both present glory and the glory to come. May God grant that we all attain it, through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.