Homilies on John, Homily 48

“After these things Jesus walked in Galilee; for He would not walk in Judea, because the Jews were seeking to kill Him. Now the Jews’ Feast of Tabernacles was near.” [1.] Nothing is worse than envy and malice; through these death entered the world. For when the devil saw man honored, he could not bear his prosperity, but used every means to destroy him. ( Wisd. ii. 24.) And everywhere we can see this same fruit growing from the same root. This is how Abel was killed; this is how David, along with many other righteous men, nearly met the same fate; this is also how the Jews became Christ’s killers. To explain this, the Evangelist said, “After these things Jesus walked in Galilee; for He had no power to walk in Judea, because the Jews were seeking to kill Him.” What are you saying, blessed John? Did He have no “power,” when He could do everything He wanted? He who said, “Whom are you seeking?” ( c. xviii. 4–6 ) and threw them backward? He who was present but unseen ( c. xxi. 4 ), did He have no “power”? How, then, did He later come among them in the middle of the temple, in the middle of the feast, when a crowd had gathered and those who wanted to murder Him were present, and say things that enraged them even more? Indeed, people marveled at this very thing, saying, “Isn’t this the man they are seeking to kill? And look, He speaks boldly, and they say nothing to Him.” ( Ver. 25, 26.) What do these riddles mean? Don't call them that! The Evangelist did not speak this way to suggest that he was speaking in riddles, but to make clear that He gives evidence of both His Godhead and His Manhood. For when he says that “He had no power,” he speaks of Him as a man, doing many things as human beings do; but when he says that He stood among them and they did not seize Him, he shows us the power of the Godhead (as man He fled, as God He appeared), and in both cases he speaks the truth. Being among those who were plotting against Him, yet not being seized by them, showed His unrivaled and irresistible nature; yielding strengthened and confirmed the Dispensation, so that neither Paul of Samosata nor Marcion nor those afflicted with their diseases would have anything to say. In this way, then, he shuts all their mouths. “After these things came the Jews’ Feast of Tabernacles.” The words “after these things” mean only that the writer has been brief here and has passed over a long stretch of time, as the following detail makes clear. When Christ sat on the mountain, he says that it was the Feast of Passover; here, however, the writer mentions the “Feast of Tabernacles,” and during those five months he has neither related nor taught us anything else except the miracle of the loaves and the sermon given to those who ate them. Yet He never stopped working miracles and speaking, both during the day and in the evening, and often at night; at any rate, this was how He guided His disciples, as all the Evangelists tell us. Why, then, have they left out that interval? Because it was impossible to recount everything fully, and also because they were eager to mention the events that led the Jews to find fault or object. There were many events like those omitted here; for they have often recorded that He raised the dead, healed the sick, and was admired. But when they have something unusual to tell, when they must describe some apparent accusation against Him, they record these things, as they do here: “His brothers did not believe Him.” For a circumstance like this raises considerable suspicion, and we should admire their love of truth: they are not ashamed to relate things that seem to disgrace their Teacher, but have been even more eager to report these than other matters. For example, the writer has passed over many signs, wonders, and sermons and jumped straight to this. Ver. 3–5. For, he says, “His brothers said to Him, Leave here and go to Judea, so that Your disciples too may see the works You do; for no one does anything in secret while seeking to be known publicly. Show Yourself to the world. For even His brothers did not believe in Him.” [2.] “What unbelief is there here?” someone asks. “They urge Him to work miracles.” Their unbelief is great indeed; for their words, their insolence, and their ill-timed freedom of speech come from unbelief. They thought their relationship gave them the right to speak boldly to Him. Their request certainly seems to be that of friends, but their words were deeply malicious. For here they accuse Him of cowardice and craving empty glory: saying “no one does anything in secret” is how people speak when they accuse Him of cowardice and suspect that the things He has done were not really done; and adding that “he seeks to be known” was an accusation that He craved empty glory. But please notice Christ’s power. One of those who said these things became the first Bishop of Jerusalem, the blessed James, of whom Paul says, “I saw none of the other Apostles except James, the Lord’s brother” ( Gal. i. 19 ); and Judas too is said to have been an extraordinary man. Yet these men had also been present at Cana when the wine was made, but so far they had gained nothing from it. Where, then, did their great unbelief come from? From their evil disposition and from envy; for superiority among relatives tends somehow to arouse envy in those who have not risen as high. But whom do they call disciples here? The crowd that followed Him, not the twelve. What, then, does Christ say? Notice how gently He answered. He did not say, “Who are you to advise and instruct Me like this?” Instead, He said, Ver. 6. “My time has not yet come.” Here He seems to me to hint at something beyond what He says outright. Perhaps in their envy they intended to hand Him over to the Jews; and pointing this out to them, He says, “My time has not yet come,” meaning, “the time of the Cross and the Death; why, then, are you in such a hurry to kill Me before the time?” “But your time is always ready.” It is as though He had said, “Even if you are always with the Jews, they will not kill you, since you want the same things they do; but they will immediately want to kill Me. So it is always your time to be with them without danger, but My time is when the hour of the Cross is near, when I must die.” He showed that this was His meaning by what followed. Ver. 7. “The world cannot hate you;” (how could it hate those who want and pursue the same things it does?) “but it hates Me, because I testify about it that its works are evil.” “That is, I am hated because I reproach and rebuke it.” Let us learn from this to control our anger and not give way to shameful passion, even when those advising us are people of low standing. For if Christ gently put up with unbelievers advising Him, when their advice was improper and not well intended, what forgiveness can we expect when we, who are only dust and ashes, are annoyed with those who advise us and think we are being treated disrespectfully, even though those doing this may be only a little lower in standing than we are? Notice here how gently He answers their accusation. When they say, “Show Yourself to the world,” He replies, “The world cannot hate you, but the world hates Me,” and so refutes their accusation. “I am so far,” He says, “from seeking honor from people that I never stop rebuking them, even though I know that this brings hatred against Me and prepares death for Me.” “And where,” someone asks, “did He rebuke people?” When did He ever stop doing so? Didn’t He say, “Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father. There is one who accuses you: Moses.” ( c. v. 45.) And again, “I know you, that you do not have the love of God in you”; and, “How can you believe, when you receive honor from people and do not seek the honor that comes from God alone?” Do you see how He has shown everywhere that the open rebuke, rather than the violation of the Sabbath, caused their hatred of Him? And why does He send them to the feast, saying, Ver. 8. “You go up to the feast: I am not going up yet”? To show that He said these things without needing them or wanting their flattery, but allowing them to do what Jews were expected to do. “How, then,” someone asks, “did He go up after saying, ‘I am not going up’?” He did not say once and for all, “I am not going up,” but “now,” meaning “not with you.” “For My time has not yet been fulfilled.” And yet He was going to be crucified at the coming Passover. “Why, then, did He not go up too? For if He did not go up because the time had not yet come, He should not have gone up at all.” But He did not go up to suffer; He went to instruct them. “But why secretly, since by going openly He could have been among them and restrained their unruly impulses, as He often did?” Because He did not want to do this continually. For if He had gone up openly and again blinded them, He would have made His Godhead shine through more clearly, which was not appropriate at that time; instead, He concealed it. And since they thought He stayed behind out of cowardice, He shows them the opposite: that He did so out of confidence and as part of a dispensation, and that, knowing beforehand the time when He would suffer, He would be most eager to go up to Jerusalem when that time finally drew near. And I think that by saying, “You go up,” He meant, “Do not think that I am forcing you to stay with Me against your will.” His addition, “My time has not yet fully come,” declares that miracles must be worked and sermons delivered, so that larger crowds might believe and the disciples might become more steadfast by seeing their Master’s boldness and sufferings. [3.] Let us learn, then, from what has been said, His kindness and gentleness: “Learn from Me, for I am meek and humble in heart” ( Matt. xi. 29 ); and let us put away all bitterness. If anyone acts arrogantly toward us, let us be humble; if anyone is overbearing, let us serve him; if anyone bites and devours us with mockery and jokes, let us not be overcome, so that in defending ourselves we do not destroy ourselves. For anger is a wild beast, a fierce and furious wild beast. Let us, then, repeat to ourselves soothing charms drawn from holy Scripture and say, “You are earth and ashes.” “Why are earth and ashes proud?” ( Ecclus. x. 9 ), and, “The force of his fury will be his destruction” ( Ecclus. i. 22 ): and, “An angry man is not handsome” ( Prov. xi. 25 , LXX.); for nothing is more shameful, nothing uglier, than a face inflamed with anger. Just as stirring up mud produces a foul smell, so a soul disturbed by passion becomes deeply disgraceful and unpleasant. “But,” someone says, “I cannot stand insults from my enemies.” Why? Tell me. If the accusation is true, you should have felt remorse even before the insult, and you should thank your enemy for his rebukes; if it is false, disregard it. He has called you poor: laugh at him. He has said you were born into a low social class and called you foolish: then mourn for him; for “Whoever says to his brother, You fool, will be in danger of hell fire.” ( Matt. v. 22.) So whenever someone insults you, consider the punishment he faces; then you will not only stop being angry but even shed tears for him. For no one is angry with someone suffering from a fever or inflammation; instead, we pity and weep for all such people. An angry soul is in the same condition. Indeed, even if you want revenge, keep silent, and you have dealt your enemy a mortal blow; but if you add abuse to abuse, you have kindled a fire. “But,” someone says, “the bystanders accuse us of weakness if we keep silent.” No, they will not condemn your weakness; they will admire your wisdom. Besides, if insolence stings you, you become insolent yourself; and by showing that you are stung, you make people think that what has been said about you is true. Tell me, why does a rich man laugh when he is called poor? Isn’t it because he knows he is not poor? So if we laugh at insults, we will give the strongest proof that we know we are not guilty of the faults alleged against us. Besides, how long must we fear having to give an account of ourselves to people? How long must we despise our common Lord and remain nailed to the flesh? “For while there is strife, envy, and division among you, are you not fleshly?” ( 1 Cor. iii. 3.) Let us, then, become spiritual and bridle this dreadful wild beast. Anger is no different from madness; it is a temporary devil, or rather, it is worse than having a devil. For someone who has a devil may be excused, but an angry person deserves ten thousand punishments, since he willingly throws himself into the pit of destruction. Even before the hell to come, he already suffers punishment from this, bringing a restless turmoil and a never-silent storm of fury upon his soul’s thoughts, all night and all day. So, to free ourselves from punishment here and vengeance in the life to come, let us drive out this passion and show meekness and gentleness in every way, so that we may find rest for our souls both here and in the Kingdom of Heaven. May we all reach it through the grace and loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom, to the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, now and always and forever and ever. Amen.