“And it happened that when Jesus had finished these parables, He left that place.” Why did He say “these”? Because He was going to tell others as well. And why, again, does He leave? Because He wants to sow the word everywhere. “And when He came to His own country, He taught them in their synagogue.” And what does he now call His country? It seems to me that he means Nazareth. “For He did not do many mighty works there,” it says, but in Capernaum He performed miracles. That is why He also said, “And you, Capernaum, who are exalted to Heaven, will be brought down to hell; for if the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day.” But when He comes there, He holds back somewhat with His miracles, so as not to inflame their envy further or bring a heavier condemnation on them by increasing their unbelief. Yet He offers teaching no less wonderful than the miracles. These utterly senseless men ought to have marveled and been amazed at the power of His words. Instead, they look down on Him because of the man who seemed to be His father. Yet we know that they had many examples of such things in earlier times and had seen distinguished children born to fathers of no importance. David, for instance, was the son of an ordinary farmer, Jesse; Amos was the child of a goatherd and was himself a goatherd; and Moses too, the lawgiver, had a father far inferior to himself. They should have worshiped and been amazed for this very reason: that despite having such parents, He spoke such things. It was perfectly clear that this came from God's grace, rather than human effort. Yet the very things for which they should admire Him are the things for which they despise Him. He also keeps visiting the synagogues so that staying constantly in the wilderness will not give them more grounds to accuse Him of creating a schism and opposing their established order. Amazed and bewildered, they said, “Where did this man get this wisdom and these powers?” By “powers” they meant either the miracles or even the wisdom itself. “Isn't this the carpenter's son?” Then the wonder is all the greater, and there is all the more reason for amazement. “Isn't His mother called Mary, and aren't His brothers James, Joses, Simon, and Judas? And aren't His sisters all here with us? Where did this man get all these things? And they took offense at Him.” Do you see that Nazareth was where He was speaking? “Aren't his brothers,” it says, “this man and that man?” And what of it? This very thing should have led you to faith. But envy, you see, is a miserable, base thing, and often turns against itself. The very things that were extraordinary and wonderful, and enough to win them over, offended them. What, then, does Christ say to them? “A prophet,” He says, “is not without honor except in his own country and in his own house.” And, it says, “He did not do many mighty works because of their unbelief.” But Luke says, “And He did not perform many miracles there.” Yet one might have expected Him to perform them. For if their wonder at Him was growing (for even there they did marvel at Him), why did He not perform them? Because He was concerned with their benefit, rather than displaying Himself. So when this did not succeed, He set aside His own interests to avoid increasing their punishment. And yet consider how much time had passed before He came to them, and how great a display of miracles He had given. But even then they could not bear it and were inflamed with envy again. Why, then, did He still perform a few miracles? So that they could not say, “Physician, heal yourself.” So that they could not say, “He is hostile to us, our enemy, and neglects His own people.” So that they could not say, “If miracles had been performed, we too would have believed.” That is why He both performed them and stopped: the first, to fulfill His own part; the second, to avoid condemning them further. And recognize the power of His words at least in this: even though envy possessed them, they still admired Him. Just as with His works they find no fault with what is done, but invent explanations that have no basis, saying, “He casts out the demons through Beelzebub,” so here too they find no fault with the teaching, but fall back on His humble family origins. But please notice the Master's gentleness. He does not insult them, but says very gently, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own country.” Nor did He stop there, but added, “And in his own house.” It seems to me that He added this with an indirect reference to His own brothers. But in Luke He also gives examples of this, saying that Elijah did not go to His own people, but to a foreign widow, and that no other leper was healed by Elisha except the foreigner Naaman. The Israelites neither received a benefit nor offered one; the foreigners did. He says these things to show their evil disposition in every instance, and that nothing new is happening in His case. 2. “At that time Herod the tetrarch heard about the fame of Jesus.” For King Herod, this man's father, who killed the children, was dead. The evangelist points out the time for a reason: to make you notice the tyrant's arrogance and carelessness as well, since he did not inquire about Christ at the beginning, but only after a very long time. That is how people in positions of power, surrounded by great pomp, behave. They learn about these things late because they give them little attention. But please notice how powerful virtue is: he was afraid of him even after he was dead, and out of fear he speaks wisely even about a resurrection. “For he said,” it tells us, “to his servants, This is John, whom I killed. He has risen from the dead, and that is why the mighty powers are at work in him.” Do you see how intense his fear was? Even then he did not dare announce it publicly, but still spoke only to his own servants. Yet even this opinion reflected a soldier's outlook and was absurd. Many others had risen from the dead, and none had done anything of the kind. His words seem to me to express both vanity and fear. For irrational souls often harbor a mixture of opposite passions. But Luke states that the crowds said, “This is Elijah, or Jeremiah, or one of the ancient prophets,” while he made this assertion as though he were saying something wiser than everyone else. But probably, before this, when people said He was John—for many had said this too—he had denied it and said, “I killed him,” taking pride and glory in it. For both Mark and Luke report that he said, “I beheaded John.” But when the report became widespread, he too said the same thing as the people. Then the evangelist also tells us the story. Why did he not introduce it as a subject in its own right? Because their whole effort was devoted to telling what concerned Christ, and they took on no secondary task besides this, unless it too contributed to the same purpose. So even now they would not have mentioned the story except on Christ's account, and because Herod said, “John has risen again.” But Mark says that Herod greatly honored the man, even when the man rebuked him. Such is the power of virtue. Then his narrative continues like this: “For Herod had seized John, bound him, and put him in prison because of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife. For John said to him, It is not lawful for you to have her. And although he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people, because they regarded him as a prophet.” And why does he direct none of his words to her, but only to the man? Because it depended more on him. But see how restrained he makes his accusation, as though he were recounting a story rather than bringing a charge. 4. “But when Herod's birthday was celebrated,” he says, “the daughter of Herodias danced before them and pleased Herod.” What a diabolical revel! What a satanic spectacle! What lawless dancing, and an even more lawless reward for the dancing! For a murder more impious than any other was committed, and the man who deserved to be crowned and publicly honored was killed in their midst, and the demons' trophy was set on the table. And the means of victory suited the deeds committed. For, “The daughter of Herodias,” it says, “danced in their midst and pleased Herod. So he swore an oath to give her whatever she asked. And she, having been instructed beforehand by her mother, said, Give me John the Baptist's head here on a platter.” She deserves a double reproach: first, because she danced; then, because she pleased him, and pleased him so much that she obtained even murder as her reward. Do you see how savage he was? How senseless? How foolish? He bound himself by an oath while giving her complete freedom to make her request. But when he saw the evil actually following from it, “he was sorry,” it says. Yet he had put John in chains in the first place. Why, then, is he sorry? Such is the nature of virtue: even among the wicked it commands admiration and praise. But what madness on her part! She too should have admired him, yes, bowed down to him, for trying to right the wrong done to her. Instead, she even helps arrange the plot, sets a trap, and asks for a diabolical favor. But he was afraid “because of the oath,” it says, “and those dining with him.” And why were you not afraid of something more terrible? Surely, if you feared having witnesses to your broken oath, you should have feared much more having so many witnesses to such a lawless murder. But since I think many do not know the offense itself that gave rise to the murder, I must explain this too, so that you may learn the lawgiver's wisdom. What, then, was the ancient law that Herod trampled on and John defended? The wife of a man who died childless was to be given to his brother. Since death was an incurable evil, and everything was arranged for the sake of life, He makes a law that the living brother should marry her and name the child born to them after the dead man, so that his house would not perish completely. For if the dead were not even to leave children, which is the greatest comfort in death, the sorrow would have no remedy. So you see, the lawgiver devised this comfort for those whom nature had deprived of children, and commanded that the offspring be counted as belonging to the other man. But when there was a child, this marriage was no longer permitted. “And why?” someone may ask. “If it was lawful for another man, surely it was even more lawful for the brother.” Certainly not. For He wants men's family connections to spread and the sources of our concern for one another to multiply. Why, then, even when the man died without children, did another man not marry her? Because then the child would not have been regarded as the dead man's. But with his brother fathering it, the fiction became plausible. Besides, any other man had no binding obligation to build up the dead man's house, while this man was under that obligation because of their relationship. Since Herod had married his brother's wife when she had a child, John therefore rebukes him, and does so with restraint, showing consideration along with his boldness. But please notice how devilish the whole spectacle was. First, it consisted of drunkenness and luxury, from which nothing wholesome could come. Second, its spectators were depraved, and the host of the banquet was the worst offender of all. Third, there was the irrational pleasure. Fourth, the girl whose existence made the marriage unlawful, who should have hidden herself, as though her mother were dishonored through her, comes out to put on a show and outdoes every prostitute, even though she was a virgin. The occasion, too, adds greatly to the condemnation of this enormity. When he should have been thanking God for bringing him into the light on that day, he ventures on these lawless acts. When he should have freed someone in chains, he adds slaughter to imprisonment. Listen, you virgins—or rather, you wives as well—all of you who agree to such indecency at other people's weddings, leaping and bounding and disgracing our common nature. Listen, you men too, all of you who pursue those banquets full of extravagance and drunkenness, and fear the pit of the evil one. For he seized that wretched man so completely at that moment that he swore to give even half his kingdom. This is what Mark says: “He swore to her, Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half my kingdom.” That is how much he valued his royal power. His passion took him captive so completely that he would give up his kingdom for a dance. And why be surprised that these things happened then, when even now, after the arrival of such exalted wisdom, many of these effeminate young men give up their very souls for a dance, without even being bound by an oath? Captured by pleasure, they are led like sheep wherever the wolf drags them. That was what happened to that frenzied man, who committed two acts of extreme madness: first, by leaving the decision to a woman so maddened, so intoxicated by her passion, and willing to stop at nothing; next, by binding the deed with an oath. 5. But wicked as he was, that vile woman was more wicked than them all, both the girl and the tyrant. For she was the first to devise all these evils and the architect of the whole plot (she who should have been most grateful of all to the prophet). It was in obedience to her that her daughter disgraced herself, danced, and asked for the murder, and it was she who trapped Herod. Do you see how rightly Christ said, "Anyone who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me"? Had she kept this law, she would not have broken so many laws or committed this foul murder. For what could be worse than this brutal savagery: asking for a murder as a favor, a lawless murder, a murder in the middle of a banquet, a murder committed publicly and without shame? She did not go to him privately to speak about these things, but publicly, with her mask thrown off, shamelessly, and with the devil pleading alongside her, she speaks as she does. Yes, and he was the one who caused her dancing to win approval at all and enabled her to catch Herod at that moment. For where there is dancing, there is the evil one. God did not give us feet for this purpose, but so that we might walk properly; so that we might join the choirs of angels, rather than behave indecently and jump like camels (for even they are unpleasant when dancing, and women much more so). For if the body is degraded by making itself indecent in this way, much more is the soul. Such is the dancing of demons; such is the joking of those who serve demons. And notice the very way she asks: "Give me John the Baptist's head here on a platter." Do you see how she has lost all shame and become entirely the devil's? She mentions his very office, and even then does not hide her face. Instead, she asks for that sacred and blessed head to be brought in on a platter just as though she were talking about some dish of food. She does not even give a reason, for she had none to give, but simply demands to be honored through other people's suffering. And she did not say, "Bring him in here and kill him," because she could not have endured his bold words even as he was about to die. Yes, she dreaded hearing his awe-inspiring voice even while he was being slaughtered, for he would not have kept silent even on the very point of being beheaded. That is why she says, "Give it to me here on a platter," meaning, "I long to see that tongue silent." Her aim was not simply to be rid of his rebukes, but also to trample on him and mock him when he had fallen. Yet God tolerated it. He neither sent His thunderbolt from above to scorch her shameless face nor commanded the earth to open and swallow that wicked revel. In this way He both crowned the righteous man more gloriously and left great comfort for those who would later suffer injustice. 6. So let us listen, all of us who live virtuously and suffer at the hands of wicked people. For even then God allowed the man of the wilderness, the man in the leather belt and the garment of hair, the prophet, the man greater than all prophets, who had no superior among those born of women, actually to be murdered—and by an indecent girl and a corrupt prostitute, all because he defended God's laws. Let us consider these things, then, and bear nobly whatever we may suffer. For at that time too, this bloodthirsty, lawless woman succeeded in taking all the revenge she wanted on the man who had upset her and satisfied all her anger, and God allowed it. Yet he had said nothing to her or accused her, but had found fault only with the man. Her conscience, however, was a bitter accuser. So, distressed and stung, she was driven in a frenzy to greater evils, and disgraced everyone at once: herself, her daughter, her dead husband, and her living lover. She tried to outdo her earlier acts. For, she says, "If you are upset at his committing adultery, I will make him a murderer too and have him kill the man who rebukes him." Listen, all of you who become excessively excited over women. Listen, all of you who offer oaths about uncertain things, give others power to destroy you, and dig a pit for yourselves. For that is how this man's ruin came about. I mean, he surely expected her to make some request appropriate to the feast, and thought that as a girl asking a favor at a banquet, a revel, and a festive gathering, she would ask for something cheerful and gracious, certainly not a head. And he was deceived. Still, none of these things will excuse him. Even if she had taken on the spirit of those who fight wild beasts, what excuse would that give him? Even so, he should not have been deceived or carried out such tyrannical commands. In the first place, who would not have shuddered to see that sacred head dripping blood and displayed at the feast? But lawless Herod did not, nor did the woman, who was even more cursed than he was. For such is the nature of unchaste women: none are so shameless and savage as they. If we shudder to hear these things, what must we suppose the effect of that sight was at the time? What must those dining with him have felt when they saw blood dripping from a freshly severed head in the midst of the revel? But that bloodthirsty woman, fiercer than the Furies, felt nothing at the spectacle and even delighted in it. Yet one would have expected the mere sight, if nothing else, to chill her completely. But she had no such feeling, murderous as she was and thirsting for prophets' blood. For such is the nature of sexual immorality. It makes people murderous as well as lustful. At any rate, women who want to commit adultery are prepared even to kill the husbands they have wronged, and are ready to attempt not just one or two murders, but ten thousand. There are many witnesses to tragic plots of this kind. That is what she too did then, expecting afterward to remain concealed and hide her crime. The very opposite happened, for John's cry was heard more loudly afterward. But wickedness looks only to the present, like feverish people asking for cold water at the wrong time. In fact, if she had not killed her accuser, her crime would not have been so fully revealed. His disciples, at least, said nothing of the kind when she had thrown him into prison. But when she had killed him, they were forced to mention the reason as well. For although they wanted to shield the adulteress and were reluctant to expose their neighbor's misfortunes, once they were compelled to give an account of it, they told the whole crime. To prevent anyone from suspecting that the reason for his slaughter was something discreditable, as in the case of Theudas and Judas, they are forced to tell what prompted the murder as well. So the more you try to conceal a sin in this way, the more you expose it. For sin is hidden by repentance and confession, rather than by adding sin to sin. 7. But see how the evangelist tells everything without malice and, as far as he can, actually offers an excuse. First, on Herod's behalf, he says, "Because of the oath and those dining with him," and that "he was sorry." Then, of the girl, "Having been instructed beforehand by her mother," and that "she brought the head to her mother," as though he had said that she was carrying out her command. For all righteous people grieve for the wrongdoers rather than those who suffer, since it is the wrongdoers who, properly speaking, suffer harm. John was not harmed; those who devised such acts were. Let us imitate the righteous too, and cover our neighbors' sins as far as is right, rather than trample on them. Let us develop a soul firmly committed to goodness. In this way the evangelist himself, speaking of a prostitute and a woman stained with blood, avoided harshness as far as possible. He did not say, "By the bloodstained and accursed woman," but, "Having been instructed beforehand by her mother," using terms that sound comparatively innocent. But you even insult and abuse your neighbor, and could never bear to speak of a brother who had offended you in the terms he used for the prostitute. Instead, with great brutality and reproaches, you call him wicked, a criminal, crafty, a fool, and many other names harsher than these. In this way we make ourselves more and more like wild beasts and speak of him as though he were a foreigner, slandering, abusing, and insulting him. The saints do not behave this way. They mourn for those who sin rather than curse them. 8. Let us do this too, then, and weep for Herodias and those who imitate her. For many such revels take place now as well, and though John is not killed, the members of Christ are, and in a far more terrible way. For the dancers of our time ask for the souls of those sitting at the feast, rather than a head on a platter. By enslaving them, leading them into unlawful loves, and surrounding them with prostitutes, they kill the soul instead of cutting off the head, making them adulterers, effeminate men, and men who frequent prostitutes. Surely you will not tell me that when you are full of wine, drunk, and watching a woman dance and speak obscene words, you feel nothing for her and are not driven into debauchery, overcome by your lust. No, that terrible thing happens to you: you “make the members of Christ members of a prostitute.” For although Herodias's daughter is not present, the devil who danced in her person then now leads his choirs in theirs as well, and leaves with the souls of those guests as his captives. But even if you manage to avoid drunkenness, you still share in another very serious sin, since such revels are also full of robbery. Please look beyond the food and cakes set before them and consider where they come from. You will see that they come from oppression, greed, violence, and robbery. “But ours do not come from such sources,” someone may say. God forbid that they should, for I do not want that either. Still, even if they are free of these things, our expensive feasts are not free from blame. Listen, at any rate, to how the prophet condemns them even apart from these things, saying, “Woe to those who drink strained wine and anoint themselves with the finest ointments.” Do you see how He condemns luxury too? Here He charges them only with extravagance, rather than greed. And you eat to excess, while Christ does not even have enough for His needs. You eat all kinds of cakes, while He does not have even dry bread. You drink Thasian wine, but have not given Him even a cup of cold water in His thirst. You lie on a soft, embroidered bed, while He is dying of cold. So even if the banquets are free from greed, they are still accursed, because while you do everything to excess, you do not give Him even what He needs—and you live in luxury on things that belong to Him. Why, if you were a child's guardian, took possession of his property, and neglected him in desperate need, you would have ten thousand accusers and suffer the punishment prescribed by law. And now that you have taken possession of Christ's property and are wasting it in this way, do you not think you will have to give an account? 9. I am not saying these things about those who bring prostitutes to their tables (for I have nothing to say to them, just as I have nothing to say to dogs). Nor am I speaking of those who cheat some people and pamper others (for I have nothing to do with them either, just as I have nothing to do with pigs and wolves). I am speaking of those who enjoy their own property but share none of it with others, those who spend their inheritance recklessly. For these too are not free from blame. Tell me, how will you escape rebuke and blame when your parasite and the dog standing beside you are pampered, but Christ seems to you worth even less than they are? One receives so much for making you laugh, while the other, for the Kingdom of Heaven, receives not even the smallest fraction of it. And while the parasite says something witty and goes away full, is this Man, who taught us things without which we would have been no better than dogs, considered unworthy even of the same treatment as such a person? Do you shudder to hear this? Then shudder at the reality. Throw out the parasites and have Christ sit down to eat with you. If He shares your salt and your table, He will be gentle in judging you: He knows how to respect a person's table. Yes, if robbers know this, much more does the Lord. Think, for instance, of that prostitute, how He justified her at a table and rebuked Simon, saying, “You gave me no kiss.” I tell you, if He feeds you when you do not do these things, how much more will He reward you when you do them? Do not focus on the poor man coming to you filthy and unwashed, but consider that through him Christ is entering your house. Give up your harshness and your merciless words, with which you even slander those who come to you, calling them impostors, lazy, and other names worse than these. And when you talk like this, think of the parasites. What work do they accomplish? How do they benefit your household? Do they really make your dinner pleasant? Pleasant because they are beaten and say filthy things? No, what could be more unpleasant than this: striking someone made in God's likeness and taking pleasure in your abuse of him, turning your house into a theater and filling your banquet with actors, while you, a person of good birth and free status, imitate the actors with their shaved heads? For among them too there is laughter and rough blows. Tell me, do you call these things pleasure, when they deserve many tears, much mourning and lamentation? When you should be urging them to live well and giving timely advice, do you lead them into perjury and indecent language and call it a delight? Do you consider something that brings hell a source of pleasure? Yes, and when they run out of witty sayings, they pay their whole bill with oaths and false swearing. Do these things deserve laughter rather than mourning and tears? No one with understanding would say so. I say this without forbidding you to feed them, but you must not feed them for such a purpose. Let kindness, rather than cruelty, be your motive for supporting them; let it be compassion, rather than abuse. Feed him because he is poor; feed him because Christ is being fed, rather than to have him introduce satanic sayings and disgrace his own life. Look beyond his outward laughter and examine his conscience. Then you will see him calling down ten thousand curses on himself, groaning and wailing. And if he does not show it, that too is your fault. 10. So let your dinner companions be poor and free men, rather than perjurers or actors. And if you must ask them for something in return for their food, instruct them to rebuke and advise you if they see anything wrong being done, and to help you care for your household and manage your servants. Do you have children? Let these men be fathers to them alongside you and share your responsibility. Let them bring you the kind of benefits God loves. Engage them in spiritual trade. And if you see someone who needs protection, tell them to help; command them to serve. Through them, seek out strangers; through them, clothe the naked; through them, send help to the prison and put an end to other people's distress. Let this be what they give you in return for their food, something that benefits both you and them and brings no condemnation. This also binds friendship more closely. For now, although they seem to be loved, they are still ashamed because they live without a purpose in your house. But if they accomplish these things, they will be happier in their situation, and you will take greater satisfaction in supporting them, since your money will bear fruit. They in turn will live with you confidently and with proper freedom, and your house will become a church instead of a theater. The devil will be driven away, and Christ will enter, along with the choir of angels. For where Christ is, the angels are too; and where Christ and the angels are, there is Heaven, there is a light more joyful than the sunlight. And if you want to gain yet another comfort through them, tell them, when you have leisure, to take their books and read the divine law. They will take more pleasure in serving you this way than in the other. These things bring respect to both you and them, while the others disgrace everyone together: you as an abusive drunkard, and them as miserable gluttons. For if you feed them in order to insult them, it is worse than putting them to death. But if you do it for their good and benefit, it is more helpful than bringing them back from the road to execution. As things stand, you disgrace them more than your servants, and your servants enjoy greater freedom of speech and conscience than they do. But then you will make them equal to the angels. So set both them and yourself free. Remove the name of parasite and call them your dinner companions; discard the title of flatterers and give them that of friends. This is why God established our friendships: for the good and benefit of both those who love and those who are loved, rather than for their harm. But these friendships are more harmful than any enmity. For our enemies can even benefit us, if we choose, but these people inevitably harm us; there is no question of it. So do not keep friends who teach you to do harm. Do not keep friends who love your table more than your friendship. All such people cut back on their friendship if you cut back on your fine living. But those who associate with you for virtue's sake remain always, enduring every change. Besides, the tribe of parasites often takes revenge on you and gives you a bad name. I know at least that many respectable people have acquired bad reputations through this, and some have been accused of sorcery, others of adultery and corrupting young men. Since these parasites have no work to do and spend their lives uselessly, people suspect that their service is the same as that of corrupted youths. So, freeing ourselves from a bad reputation and above all from the hell to come, and doing what pleases God, let us put an end to this devilish custom, so that “in both eating and drinking, we may do everything to the glory of God” and enjoy the glory that comes from Him. May we all attain it through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.
Intertextual Commentary on Homilies on Matthew, Homily 48
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