Homilies on Matthew, Homily 61

“Then Peter came to Him and said, Lord, how often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times? Jesus said to him, I do not say to you, Up to seven times, but, Up to seventy times seven.” Peter thought he was saying something great, so, aiming at greatness, he added, “Up to seven times?” For how often, he says, should I do this thing You have commanded? If he keeps sinning forever, but always repents when corrected, how often do You command us to put up with this man? For the other man, who does not repent or acknowledge his own faults, You have set a limit by saying, “Let him be to you like the heathen and the tax collector”; but for this man You have set no such limit, and have commanded us to accept him. How often, then, should I put up with him when he is told his faults and repents? Is seven times enough? What, then, does Christ, the good God who loves humanity, say? “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but, up to seventy times seven.” Here He is setting no number, but indicating what is infinite, perpetual, and everlasting. Just as ten thousand times means often, so it does here too. For when Scripture says, “The barren woman has borne seven,” it means many. So He has not limited forgiveness to a number, but has declared that it must continue forever. He indicated this, at least, through the parable that follows. To keep anyone from thinking He was imposing great and unbearable demands by saying, “Seventy times seven,” He added this parable, both encouraging them to follow what He had said and humbling the man who was proud of this, while showing that the act was very easy rather than burdensome. That is why, let me add, He brought forward His own love for humanity, so that through the comparison, as He says, you might learn that even if you forgive seventy times seven, even if you continually pardon your neighbor for absolutely all his sins, your love for humanity falls as far short of God's boundless goodness as a drop of water falls short of an endless sea—or rather, much further. And you need that goodness, because you will be judged and must give an account. So He went on to say, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a certain king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. When he began to settle them, someone was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. But because he had nothing to pay with, he commanded that he be sold, along with his wife, his children, and everything he had.” Then, after this man had received mercy, he went out and “grabbed by the throat his fellow servant who owed him a hundred denarii”; and by these actions he stirred his lord to have him thrown back into prison until he paid off the whole debt. Do you see how great the difference is between sins against people and sins against God? As great as the difference between ten thousand talents and a hundred denarii—or rather, much greater. This comes both from the difference between the persons and from the constant succession of our sins. For when a person is watching us, we hold back and shrink from sinning; but though God sees us every day, we do not restrain ourselves, but do and say everything without fear. And our sins become more serious not only because of this, but also because of the benefits and honor we have received. If you want to learn how our sins against Him amount to ten thousand talents, or rather much more, I will try to show you briefly. But I am afraid I might give those who lean toward wickedness and love to keep sinning even greater confidence, or drive the gentler people to despair, so that they repeat the disciples' words, “Who can be saved?” Still, I will speak, to make those who pay attention more secure and more gentle. For those who are incurably diseased and have lost all feeling do not abandon their carelessness and wickedness even without these words of mine. If they find in these words an even greater opportunity for contempt, the fault lies in their insensitivity, not in what is said. For what is said is certainly enough both to restrain those who pay attention and to pierce their hearts. And when the gentler people see the greatness of their sins on the one hand, and learn the power of repentance on the other, they will cling to it all the more. That is why we need to speak. I will speak, then, and lay out our sins, both those by which we offend against God and those against other people. I will lay out the sins common to us all, rather than each person's own; afterward, let each person add his own from his conscience. I will do this after first laying out God's good deeds toward us. What, then, are His good deeds? He created us when we did not exist, and made all visible things for our sake: Heaven, sea, air, everything in them, living creatures, plants, seeds. We must speak briefly, because His works are a boundless ocean. Into us alone of all things on earth He breathed a living soul such as we have. He planted a garden, gave us a suitable helper, set us over all the animals, and crowned us with glory and honor. Then, when man had been ungrateful to his benefactor, He granted him a greater gift. 2. Do not look only at the fact that He drove him out of paradise; notice also the gain that came from it. For after driving him out of paradise, performing those countless good works, and carrying out His various plans, He even sent His own Son for the sake of those who had benefited from Him and hated Him. He opened Heaven to us, threw open paradise itself, and made us sons—we who were enemies and ungrateful. So this would indeed be a fitting time to say, “Oh, the depth of the riches of both the wisdom and knowledge of God!” He also gave us a baptism for the remission of sins, deliverance from vengeance, and a kingdom as our inheritance. He promised us countless good things if we do what is right, stretched out His hand, and poured His Spirit into our hearts. What, then? After so many blessings, and such great ones, what should our attitude be? Even if we died each day for Him who loves us so much, would we repay Him as we should—or even repay the smallest part of the debt? By no means, for even this is turned to our advantage. What, then, is our attitude, when it ought to be like this? Every day we insult His law. But do not be angry if I speak freely against those who sin, for I will accuse myself as well as you. Where, then, would you like me to begin? With slaves or free people? With soldiers or private citizens? With rulers or subjects? With women or men? With old men or young men? With what age? What race? What rank? What occupation? Would you like me to begin with those who serve as soldiers? What sin do they fail to commit every day—insulting, abusing, raging, profiting from other people's misfortunes, behaving like wolves, never free from offenses, unless one could also say that the sea was without waves? What passion does not trouble them? What disease does not besiege their souls? Toward their equals they show jealousy and envy, and pursue empty admiration; toward those under them they show greed. But toward those who have lawsuits and run to them as to a harbor, they behave like enemies and perjurers. How many robberies there are among them! How many frauds! How many false accusations and shameful acts! How much servile flattery! Come, then, let us apply Christ's law in each case. “Whoever says to his brother, You fool, will be in danger of hell fire. Whoever has looked at a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her. Unless someone humbles himself like the little child, he will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” But these men even cultivate arrogance, becoming fiercer than a wild beast toward those who are under them, who have been handed over to them, and who tremble before them and fear them. They do nothing for Christ's sake, but everything for their belly, for money, for empty admiration. Can anyone really put into words the full wrongdoing of their actions? What can one say about their decisions, their laughter, their inappropriate conversations, their filthy language? As for greed, one cannot even begin to speak. For just as the monks in the mountains do not even know what greed is, neither do these men—but for the opposite reason. The monks do not know the passion because they are far removed from the disease; these men, because they are so thoroughly intoxicated with it, do not even perceive how great an evil it is. This vice has so displaced virtue and rules so tyrannically that these madmen do not even consider it a serious charge. But would you like us to leave these men and turn to others of a gentler kind? Come, then, let us examine workers and artisans. For these, above all, seem to live by honest labor and the sweat of their own brow. Yet when they do not watch themselves, they too accumulate many evils through their work. They bring the dishonesty of buying and selling into honest labor, and often add oaths, perjury, and lies to their greed. They occupy themselves only with worldly things and remain riveted to the earth. While they do everything to make money, they give little thought to sharing with the needy, always wanting to increase their possessions. What can one say about the abuse uttered over such matters, the insults, the loans, the profits from usury, the bargains full of underhanded dealing, the shameless buying and selling? 3. But would you like us to leave these people too and turn to others who seem more just? Who are they? Those who own land and reap the wealth that springs from the earth. And who could be more unjust than they are? If anyone examined how they treat their miserable, exhausted laborers, he would see that they are crueler than savages. On people wasting away with hunger and toiling throughout their lives, they impose constant, intolerable payments and loads of exhausting work. They treat their bodies like donkeys or mules—or rather, like stones—without even allowing them a little breathing room. Whether the earth yields a crop or not, they wear them out just the same and show them no leniency. What could be more pitiful than this? After laboring all winter and being worn down by frost, rain, and sleepless nights, they leave empty-handed—worse still, in debt—and fear and dread the overseers' torments, their dragging them around, their demands, their imprisonments, and the compulsory services from which no pleading can free them, even more than this famine and shipwreck! Why speak of the trade they make of these people, the sordid profits they gain from them? Through their labor and sweat they fill winepresses and wine vats, yet do not allow them to take home even a small measure. Instead, they drain the entire yield into the casks of their wickedness and toss them a little money in return. They also devise new kinds of usury, unlawful even under heathen laws, and draw up loan agreements full of curses. They press for and collect not a hundredth of the principal, but half of it—and this when the person they collect it from has a wife, is raising children, is a human being, and is filling their threshing floor and winepress through his own hard work. But they consider none of these things. So now would be a fitting time to bring forward the prophet and say, “Be astonished, O Heaven, and be horribly afraid, O earth.” Into what terrible brutality the human race has been driven in its madness! But I say these things to blame ourselves, not crafts, farmers, farming, or military service. For Cornelius too was a centurion, Paul worked in leather and practiced his craft even after he began preaching, David was a king, and Job owned land and enjoyed a large income. None of these things prevented any of them from living virtuously. Keeping all this in mind and considering the ten thousand talents, let us at least be moved by this to hurry to forgive our neighbors their few, trifling debts. For we too must give an account of the commandments entrusted to us, and we cannot pay everything, no matter what we do. So God has given us a ready and easy way to repay, one that can cancel all these debts: I mean, refusing to take revenge. To learn this well, then, let us hear the whole parable, going through it in order. “For someone was brought to Him,” it says, “who owed ten thousand talents, and when he had nothing to pay with, He commanded that he be sold, along with his wife and children.” Why, tell me? Not out of cruelty or inhumanity (for the loss would fall back on the master himself, since the wife too was a slave), but out of inexpressible tenderness. For His purpose is to frighten him with this threat so that He might bring him to plead, not so that he would be sold. If He had intended to sell him, He would not have agreed to his request or granted him the favor. Why, then, did He not grant this favor and forgive the debt before settling accounts? He wanted to teach him how many obligations He was freeing him from, so that this, at least, might make him gentler toward his fellow servant. For even after learning the weight of his debt and the greatness of the forgiveness, he still grabbed his fellow servant by the throat. If He had not first disciplined him with such remedies, to what extremes of cruelty might he have gone? What, then, does the man say? “Be patient with me, and I will pay You everything. And his Lord was moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt.” Do you see this extraordinary kindness again? The servant asked only for a delay, for more time, but He gave more than he asked: the remission and forgiveness of the entire debt. He had wanted to give this from the beginning, but He did not want the gift to come from Himself alone; He also wanted it to come through the man's pleading, so that the man would not leave without a crown. Although the man fell down before him and prayed, the reason for the forgiveness showed that it all came from the lord: he forgave him because he was “moved with compassion.” Still, even so, he wanted the other man to appear to contribute something too, so that he would not be overwhelmed with shame, and so that, taught by his own troubles, he might be lenient toward his fellow servant. 4. Up to this point, then, this man was good and acceptable: he confessed, promised to pay the debt, fell down before him, pleaded, condemned his own sins, and recognized the greatness of the debt. But what followed was unworthy of his earlier actions. For he went out immediately—not a long time afterward, but immediately, with the benefit still fresh—and used the gift, the very freedom his master had given him, for wickedness. For “he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and grabbed him by the throat, saying, Pay me what you owe.” Do you see the master's kindness? Do you see the servant's cruelty? Listen, you who do these things over money. For if we must not act this way over sins, much less should we do so over money. What, then, does the other man say? “Be patient with me, and I will pay you everything.” But he paid no attention even to the words that had saved him (for he himself had been freed from the ten thousand talents by saying this). He did not even recognize the harbor through which he had escaped shipwreck. The gesture of pleading did not remind him of his master's kindness. Instead, out of greed, cruelty, and vengeance, he pushed all these things aside and, fiercer than any wild beast, grabbed his fellow servant by the throat. What are you doing, man? Do you not realize that you are making this demand against yourself, plunging the sword into yourself, and revoking the judgment and the gift? But he considered none of these things, remembered nothing of his own situation, and would not give way, although the requests were not for equal things. For one pleaded over ten thousand talents, the other over a hundred denarii; one pleaded with his fellow servant, the other with his lord; one received complete forgiveness, while the other asked for a delay. Yet he would not give him even that, for “he threw him into prison.” “But when his fellow servants saw it, they accused him before their lord.” This does not please even people, much less God. So those who owed nothing shared in the grief. What, then, does their lord say? “You wicked servant, I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn't you also have had compassion, just as I had pity on you?” See the lord's gentleness again. As he is about to revoke his gift, he reasons with the man and explains his own conduct—or rather, it was not he who revoked it, but the man who received it. That is why He says, “I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn't you also have had compassion on your fellow servant?” Even if the thing seems hard to you, you should still have looked at the benefit you have received and the benefit still to come. Even if the command is painful, you should consider the reward; consider not that he has hurt you, but that you have provoked God, whom you have reconciled by prayer alone. But if even so you find it painful to become friends with someone who has hurt you, falling into hell is far more painful. If you had weighed the one against the other, you would have known that forgiving is a much lighter burden. When he owed ten thousand talents, the lord did not call him wicked or reproach him, but showed him mercy. But when he became harsh toward his fellow servant, then he said, “You wicked servant.” Let those of us who are greedy listen, for these words are spoken to us too. Let those of us who are merciless and cruel listen as well, for we are cruel to ourselves, not to others. When you want to take revenge, then, consider that you are taking revenge against yourself, not against someone else; that you are binding your own sins upon yourself, not your neighbor's. Whatever you do to this man, you do as a human being and in this present life. But God will take vengeance on you with greater power, and with the vengeance of the life to come. “For He handed him over until he paid what was owed”—that is, forever, for he will never repay it. Since the kindness shown to you has not made you better, it remains for you to be corrected through vengeance. And yet, “The graces and the gifts are given without a change of mind,” but wickedness has had such power that it has set aside even this law. What, then, could be more terrible than seeking revenge, when it appears to overturn such a great gift of God? And he did not merely “hand him over,” but “was angry.” For when he commanded that he be sold, his words did not come from anger (which is also why he did not carry it out), but provided a very great opportunity for kindness. Now, however, the sentence expresses great indignation, vengeance, and punishment. What, then, does the parable mean? “My Father will do the same to you,” He says, “if you do not each forgive your brother's trespasses from your hearts.” He does not say “your Father,” but “my Father.” For it is not fitting for God to be called the Father of someone so wicked and malicious. 5. So He requires two things here: that we condemn ourselves for our sins and forgive others. He requires the first for the sake of the second, to make it easier (for someone who considers his own sins is more lenient toward his fellow servant). And we must forgive not merely with our lips, but from the heart. Let us not plunge the sword into ourselves by seeking revenge. For what pain has the person who hurt you inflicted on you that compares with what you will do to yourself by holding on to your anger and bringing God's sentence of condemnation upon yourself? If you stay alert and keep yourself under control, the evil will come back on his head, and he will be the one harmed. But if you remain indignant and resentful, you yourself will suffer harm from yourself, not from him. So do not say that he insulted you, slandered you, and did you countless wrongs. For the more you recount, the more you show that he has benefited you. He has given you an opportunity to wash away your sins; so the greater the injuries he has done you, the more he has become the occasion for a greater remission of your sins. For if we are willing, no one will be able to injure us; even our enemies will benefit us enormously. And why speak of human beings? What could be more wicked than the devil? Yet even he gives us a great opportunity to prove ourselves, as Job shows. But if the devil has become an occasion for crowns, why are you afraid of a human enemy? See, then, how much you gain by gently bearing your enemies' spiteful acts. First and greatest, deliverance from sins; second, courage and patience; third, gentleness and kindness. For someone who does not know how to be angry with those who hurt him will be all the more ready to serve those who love him. Fourth, continual freedom from anger, which nothing can equal. For someone free from anger is clearly also free from the despondency it causes, and will not spend his life on pointless labor and sorrow. Someone who does not know how to hate does not know how to grieve either, but will enjoy pleasure and ten thousand blessings. So we punish ourselves by hating others, just as we benefit ourselves by loving them. Besides all this, even your very enemies will revere you, even if they are demons—or rather, you will not have an enemy at all while you have such an attitude. But greater than everything else, and first of all, you gain God's favor. If you have sinned, you will obtain pardon; if you have done what is right, you will obtain greater confidence. So let us succeed in hating no one, so that God may love us too, and may have compassion and pity on us even though we owe ten thousand talents. But has he injured you? Then pity him; do not hate him. Weep and mourn; do not turn away from him. For he is the one who has offended against God, not you; you have even proved yourself, if you endure it. Consider that Christ, when He was about to be crucified, rejoiced for Himself but wept for those who were crucifying Him. This should be our attitude too: the more we are injured, the more we should mourn for those injuring us. For many benefits come to us from this, while the opposite comes to them. But did he insult you and strike you in front of everyone? Then he has disgraced and dishonored himself in front of everyone, opened the mouths of a thousand accusers, woven more crowns for you, and gathered many people to proclaim your patience. But did he slander you to others? What does that amount to? God is the one who will demand the account, not those who heard it. For he has added another ground for his own punishment, so that he must give an account not only of his own sins, but also of what he said about you. He has given you a bad reputation among people, but has himself acquired a bad reputation with God. If these things are not enough for you, consider that even your Lord was slandered by both Satan and people, and that they slandered Him to those He loved most; and His Only-Begotten was treated the same way. That is why He said, “If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more will they call those of His household?” And that wicked demon not only slandered Him, but was believed. Nor did he slander Him over ordinary matters, but with the gravest insults and accusations. For he claimed that He was possessed, a deceiver, and an enemy of God. But have you also done good and received evil? Then for this above all, mourn and grieve for the person who has done wrong, but rejoice for yourself, because you have become like God, “Who makes the sun rise on the evil and the good.” But if following God is beyond you—although even this is not hard for someone who stays alert—still, if this seems too great for you, come, let us bring you to your fellow servants: to Joseph, who suffered countless wrongs and did good to his brothers; to Moses, who prayed for them after their countless plots against him; to the blessed Paul, who cannot even count what he suffered from them and is willing to be accursed for them; to Stephen, who is being stoned and pleading that this sin be forgiven them. After considering all these things, throw away all anger, so that God may also forgive us all our trespasses through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, might, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.