“At that time Jesus answered and said, I acknowledge You, O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, because You have hidden these things from the wise and discerning and have revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this seemed good in Your sight.” Do you see how many ways He leads them toward faith? First, by His praise of John. By pointing to him as someone great and remarkable, He also established the credibility of everything John said to draw them toward knowing Him. Second, by saying, “The kingdom of Heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force,” for these are the words of someone pressing and urging them on. Third, by indicating that the succession of the prophets had come to an end, for this too showed that He was the person they had foretold. Fourth, by pointing out that everything John was to do had been accomplished; this was also when He mentioned the parable of the children. Fifth, by rebuking those who had not believed and greatly alarming and threatening them. Sixth, by giving thanks for those who believed. For the expression “I acknowledge You” here means “I thank You.” “I thank You,” He says, “because You have hidden these things from the wise and discerning.” What then? Does He rejoice in their destruction and in the others’ failure to receive this knowledge? Certainly not. Rather, this is an excellent way He saves people: He does not force those who utterly reject His words and are unwilling to receive them. Since His call did not make them better, but they drew back and despised it, His rejection of them might make them long for these things. And in the same way, those who paid attention would become more earnest. While His revelation to these people was a fitting cause for joy, His concealment from the others was a cause for tears, not joy. This is certainly how He acts when He weeps for the city. So He rejoices not because of this, but because these people knew what the wise did not. It is like Paul’s saying, “I thank God that you were slaves of sin, but you obeyed from the heart the form of teaching to which you were handed over.” You see, Paul does not rejoice because they were “slaves of sin,” but because, despite having been such people, they had received such great favor. By the “wise” here, He means the scribes and Pharisees. He says these things to make the disciples more earnest and to show what had been granted to the fishermen when all those others had missed it. In calling them “wise,” He does not mean true and praiseworthy wisdom, but the wisdom they seemed to have through natural cleverness. That is why He did not say, “You have revealed it to fools,” but “to little children”—that is, to uncomplicated, simple-minded people. He implies that, far from their missing these privileges being undeserved, it was just what one would expect. Throughout, He teaches us to be free from pride and to pursue simplicity. This is also why Paul expressed it with even greater urgency, writing, “If anyone among you seems to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, so that he may become wise.” For this is how God’s grace is revealed. But why does He thank the Father, when of course He Himself brought this about? Just as He prays and intercedes with God to show His great love for us, He does this in the same way, for this too comes from great love. He also indicates that they had fallen away not only from Him, but from the Father as well. Thus He Himself had already put into practice what He told His disciples: “Do not give holy things to dogs.” Moreover, He indicates by this both His own primary will and the Father’s: His own, I say, by giving thanks and rejoicing at what had happened; His Father’s, by indicating that the Father had not done this in response to a plea, but of Himself, by His own will. “For this,” He says, “seemed good in Your sight”; that is, “this pleased You.” And why was it hidden from them? Listen to Paul saying that, “Seeking to establish their own righteousness, they have not submitted to the righteousness of God.” Now consider how the disciples were likely to feel when they heard this: that they knew what the wise did not, that they knew it while remaining little children, and that they knew it through God’s revelation. But Luke says that “at that very hour,” when the seventy came and told Him about the demons, He “rejoiced” and said these things. Besides making them more diligent, this would also encourage them to be humble. Since it was natural for them to take pride in driving out demons, He restrains them on this ground among others: whatever had been done came through revelation, not through any diligence of their own. That is also why the scribes and wise men, who thought they were intelligent on their own, fell away through their own vanity. Well then, if this was why it was hidden from them, “you too,” He says, “should fear and remain little children.” For this enabled you to benefit from the revelation, just as the opposite deprived them of it. When He says, “You have hidden,” He certainly does not mean that it is all God’s doing. It is like Paul’s saying, “He gave them over to a depraved mind,” and, “He has blinded their minds”: the intention is not to present Him as the one responsible, but those who brought it on themselves. So here too He uses the expression, “You have hidden.” For since He had said, “I thank You, because You have hidden them and have revealed them to little children,” He prevents you from supposing that He offers thanks because He Himself lacks this power and cannot accomplish it, by saying, “All things have been handed over to Me by My Father.” And to those rejoicing because the demons obey them, He says, “Why are you amazed that demons yield to you? All things are Mine; ‘All things have been handed over to Me.’” But when you hear, “They have been handed over,” do not imagine anything human. He uses this expression to keep you from imagining two unoriginate Gods. For He declares in many ways, here and elsewhere, that He is both begotten and Lord of all. 2. Then He says something even greater, raising your mind higher: “And no one knows the Son except the Father, nor does anyone know the Father except the Son.” To those who do not understand, this may seem unrelated to what came before, but it fits perfectly. Having said, “All things have been handed over to Me by My Father,” He adds, in effect, “And why be amazed that I am Lord of all, when I also have another, greater privilege: knowing the Father and being of the same substance?” Yes, He also implies this by His being the only one who knows Him in this way. For this is what He means when He says, “No one knows the Father except the Son.” And notice when He says this: when His works had given them certain proof of His power, as they not only saw Him perform miracles but were themselves endowed with such great powers in His name. Then, since He had said, “You have revealed them to little children,” He indicates that this also belongs to Himself. For He says, “Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son is willing to reveal Him”—not “anyone He may be instructed to,” or “anyone He may be commanded to.” But if He reveals the Father, then He reveals Himself too. He lets this latter point pass as acknowledged, but states the other explicitly. And He affirms this everywhere, as when He says, “No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Through this He also establishes another point: that He is in harmony and of one mind with the Father. “Why,” He says, “I am so far from fighting and warring against Him that no one can even come to Him except through Me.” Because what offended them most was His seeming to be a rival God, He does everything to remove this impression. He concerns Himself with this just as earnestly as with His miracles, and even more so. But when He says, “Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son,” He does not mean that everyone was ignorant of Him, but that no one knows Him with the knowledge the Son has of Him. The same can be said of the Son as well. For He was not speaking of some unknown God who had been revealed to no one, as Marcion says. Rather, He is indicating the perfection of His knowledge, since we do not know the Son as He should be known either. This very point, to say no more, was what Paul declared when he said, “We know in part, and we prophesy in part.” 3. Next, after His words have stirred an earnest desire in them and He has indicated His indescribable power, He invites them, saying, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest.” Not this or that person, but everyone in anxiety, in sorrow, in sin. Come, not so that I may call you to account, but so that I may take away your sins. Come, not because I want your honor, but because I want your salvation. “For I,” He says, “will give you rest.” He did not merely say, “I will save you,” but something much greater: “I will bring you into complete safety.” “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” So He says, “Do not be afraid when you hear about a yoke, for it is easy. Do not fear because I said ‘a burden,’ for it is light.” Then why did He say earlier, “The gate is narrow and the way constricted”? It is so while you are careless and idle; but if you properly put His words into practice, the burden will be light. That is why He has now called it light. But how do you properly put them into practice? By becoming humble, meek, and gentle. For this virtue is the mother of all discipline in life. That is why He began with it when He first gave those divine laws. And here He does exactly the same again, and the reward He promises is very great. “For you do not merely become useful to someone else,” He says, “but above all you refresh yourself as well. For you will find rest for your souls.” Even before the things to come, He gives you your reward here and awards the prize already. He makes His words appealing both by this and by presenting Himself as an example. “What are you afraid of?” He says. “That you will lose something by your humble position? Look at Me and everything that is Mine; learn from Me, and then you will clearly know how great your blessing is.” Do you see how He leads them toward humility in every way? Through His own actions: “Learn from Me, for I am meek.” Through what they themselves will gain: “You will find,” He says, “rest for your souls.” Through what He gives them: “I too will refresh you,” He says. By making it light: “For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” Paul does the same when he says, “For the present light affliction, which lasts only a moment, produces a far greater and eternal weight of glory.” And how, someone may ask, is the burden light when He says, “Unless someone hates father and mother”; and, “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me”; and, “Whoever does not give up everything he has cannot be My disciple”—when He commands us to give up even our very lives? Let Paul teach you, saying, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or the sword?” And, “The sufferings of this present time are not worthy of comparison with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Let those who return from the council of the Jews after many lashes teach you, as they “rejoice that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of Christ.” And if you are still afraid and tremble when you hear about the yoke and the burden, the fear comes from your own lack of effort, not from the nature of the thing. For if you are prepared and earnest, everything will be easy and light for you. This is also why Christ, to indicate that we ourselves must also make an effort, did not mention only the blessings and then stop, or only the hardships, but set out both. Thus He both spoke of “a yoke” and called it “easy”; He both named a burden and added that it was “light,” so that you would neither run from them as exhausting nor dismiss them as too easy. But if, even after all this, virtue seems burdensome to you, consider that vice is more burdensome. He indicated this very point by saying, before “Take My yoke upon you,” “Come, you who labor and are heavily burdened.” He implies that sin too involves labor and a burden that is heavy and hard to bear. For He said not only, “You who labor,” but also, “who are heavily burdened.” The prophet was speaking of this too when he described sin’s nature: “Like a heavy burden they weighed heavily on me.” And Zechariah too, describing her, says she is “a talent of lead.” Experience itself also proves this. For nothing weighs so heavily on the soul and presses it down as the consciousness of sin; nothing gives it wings and lifts it up so much as attaining righteousness and virtue. And consider this: what, I ask you, is harder than having no possessions? Than turning the cheek and, when struck, not striking back? Than dying a violent death? Yet if we practice self-control, all these things are light, easy, and pleasant. But do not be troubled. Instead, let us take up each of these things and examine it carefully, beginning, if you like, with what many consider the most painful. Which of the two, tell me, is hard and burdensome: caring for one stomach, or worrying about ten thousand? Wearing one outer garment and seeking nothing more, or having many at home and lamenting day and night in fear and trembling over keeping them safe, grieving and almost choking at the thought of losing them, afraid that one might be eaten by moths or that a servant might steal them and run away? 4. But whatever I may say, my words cannot provide the same proof as actually trying it. So I wish someone who had reached that summit of self-restraint were here with us. Then you would know for certain the delight it brings, and that none of those who love voluntary poverty would accept wealth, even if ten thousand people offered it. But would these wealthy people, you ask, ever agree to become poor and throw off their anxieties? And what does that prove? It proves only their madness and serious sickness, not that there is anything very pleasant about their condition. They themselves would testify to this, as they lament these anxieties every day and consider their lives not worth living. But the others do nothing of the kind. Instead, they laugh and leap for joy, and those who wear a crown do not take as much pride in it as these people take in their poverty. Again, for someone who pays attention, turning the cheek is less painful than striking someone else. Striking begins the conflict; turning the cheek ends it. By striking, you also set the other person’s pile of fuel on fire; by turning the cheek, you put out even your own flames. Surely everyone can see that not being burned is more pleasant than being burned. And if this holds true for bodies, it holds far more true for a soul. And which is easier: competing, or being crowned? Fighting, or receiving the prize? Enduring the waves, or entering the harbor? That is also why dying is better than living. The one takes us away from waves and dangers, while the other adds to them and exposes a person to countless plots and troubles—the very things that have made you consider life not worth living. And if you do not believe what we say, listen to those who have seen the faces of the martyrs during their struggles: how very joyful and glad they were when whipped and stripped of their skin, and how, when laid on hot irons, they rejoiced and were glad at heart, more than people lying on a bed of roses. That is also why Paul, when he was about to depart from here and end his life by a violent death, said, “I am glad and rejoice with you all; for the same reason, you too should be glad and rejoice with me.” Do you see how powerfully he invites the whole world to share his gladness? He knew that his departure from here—that fearsome thing, death—was such a great good, so desirable and lovely, and something worth praying for. 5. There are many other ways to show that virtue’s yoke is sweet and light. But to finish, if you like, let us also look at the burdens of sin. Let us bring forward the greedy, the retailers and secondhand dealers who make shameless bargains. What burden could be heavier than such dealings? How many sorrows, anxieties, disappointments, dangers, plots, and wars arise every day from these profits? How many troubles and disturbances? For just as you can never see the sea without waves, you can never see such a soul without anxiety, discouragement, fear, and turmoil. Indeed, the second trouble overtakes the first, and still others arrive; before these have ended, others reach their height. Or would you like to see the souls of those who hurl insults and those ruled by anger? What could be worse than this torture? Than the wounds they carry within? Than the furnace that is always burning and the flame that is never put out? Or the souls of those devoted to sensual pleasure and those who cling to this present life? What could be more painful than this slavery? They live Cain’s life, constantly trembling and afraid at every death that occurs. The dead person’s relatives do not mourn as much as these people mourn for their own end. Again, who is more full of turmoil and more frantic than those puffed up with pride? “For learn,” He says, “from Me, for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” For patience is the mother of all good things. So do not fear or recoil from the yoke that relieves you of all these things. Put yourself under it eagerly, and then you will fully know its pleasure. For it does not bruise your neck at all. It is placed on you only to keep you in good order, to persuade you to walk properly, to lead you onto the royal road, to rescue you from the precipices on either side, and to make it easy for you to walk the narrow way. Since its benefits are so great, its safety so great, and its gladness so great, let us pull this yoke with all our soul and all our diligence, so that here we may “find rest for our souls” and also attain the good things to come, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.
Intertextual Commentary on Homilies on Matthew, Homily 38
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