“And He took His garments, and after sitting down again, said to them, Do you know what I have done to you?” And what follows. [1.] It is a terrible thing, beloved, a terrible thing to sink into the depths of wickedness, for then the soul becomes hard to restore. So we should make every effort to avoid being caught in it at all, since it is easier not to fall in than to recover after falling. Notice, for instance, how much help Judas received after he had thrown himself into sin, yet even so he was not raised up. Christ said to him, “One of you is a devil” ( c. vi. 70 ); He said, “Not all believe” ( c. vi. 64 ); He said, “I do not speak of all,” and, “I know whom I have chosen” ( c. xiii. 18 ); and not one of these sayings touches him. Now, after He had washed their feet, taken His garments, and sat down, He said, “Do you know what I have done to you?” He no longer addresses Peter alone, but all of them. Ver. 13. “You call Me Lord and Master, and you are right, for that is what I am.” “You call Me.” He adopts their judgment, and then, so that these words will not be thought merely an expression of their kindness, He adds, “for that is what I am.” By introducing something they themselves have said, He keeps it from giving offense; and by personally confirming what they have said, He removes any suspicion about it. “For that is what I am,” He says. Do you see how, when He speaks with the disciples, He reveals more about Himself? Just as He says, “Call no one master on earth, for One is your guide” ( Matt. xxiii. 8, 9 ), so He also says, “And call no one father on earth.” But each “one” refers not only to the Father, but also to Himself. For if He had spoken in a way that excluded Himself, how could He say, “That you may become the children of the light”? And again, if He called only the Father “Master,” how could He say, “For that is what I am”; and again, “For one is your Guide, Christ Himself”? ( c. xii. 26.) Ver. 14, 15. “If I then,” He says, “your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, so that you should do as I have done to you.” And yet it is not the same thing, for He is Lord and Master, while you are fellow servants of one another. What, then, does “as” mean? “With the same zeal.” That is why He takes examples from greater actions, so that we may at least perform the lesser ones. In the same way, teachers write letters very beautifully for children, so that they may learn to imitate them, even if less skillfully. Where now are those who spit on their fellow servants? Where now are those who demand honors? Christ washed the feet of the traitor, the sacrilegious man, the thief, and did so just before the betrayal; and incurable as he was, He let him share His table. And you are proud and raise your eyebrows in arrogance? “Then let us wash one another’s feet,” someone says. “Then we must wash our household servants’ feet.” And what is so great about washing even our household servants’ feet? In our case, “slave” and “free” are a distinction in words; but in His case the distinction was real. For by nature He was Lord and we were servants, yet He did not refuse to do even this at that time. But now we can be satisfied if we do not treat free people as slaves, as slaves bought with money. And what will we say on that day if, after receiving such proofs of patience, we fail to imitate them at all, but take the opposite course, acting in direct opposition, puffed up and failing to pay our debt? For God has made us debtors to one another by first doing this Himself, and He has made our debt smaller. For He was our Lord, but we do it, if we do it at all, for our fellow servants. He Himself implied this when He said, “If I then, your Lord and Master—so you also should do.” It would naturally have followed for Him to say, “How much more should you servants,” but He left that to His hearers’ consciences. [2.] But why has He done this “now”? In the future they were to receive honor, some more and some less. So, to keep them from exalting themselves above one another and saying, as they had before, “Who is the greatest” ( Matt. xviii. 1 ), or becoming angry with one another, He brings down the proud thoughts of them all by saying that “even if you are very great, you ought not to look down on your brother.” And He did not mention the greater action by saying, “If I have washed the traitor’s feet, what is so great about your washing one another’s?” Instead, after demonstrating this through His actions, He left it to those watching to judge. That is why He said, “Whoever does and teaches will be called great” ( Matt. v. 19 ); for actually doing something is what it means “to teach” it. What pride would this not remove? What kind of foolishness and arrogance would it not wipe out! He who sits on the Cherubim washed the traitor’s feet, and you, a human being, you who are earth and ashes and cinders and dust, exalt yourself and act proudly? And wouldn’t you deserve a terrible hell? If, then, you want greatness of soul, come, I will show you the way to it, for you do not even know what it is. The person who treats the things of this present life as great has a small soul. So there can be no humility without greatness of soul, and no conceit except from smallness of soul. For just as little children are eager for trifles, staring openmouthed at balls and hoops and dice, yet cannot even conceive of important matters, so it is here: someone who is truly wise will consider the things of this present life worthless (so that he will neither choose to acquire them himself nor accept them from others); but someone without this character will feel the opposite way, intent on cobwebs and shadows and dreams of things even less substantial than these. Ver. 16–18. “Truly I say to you, the servant is not greater than his lord, nor is the one sent greater than the one who sent him. If you know these things, you are happy if you do them. I do not speak of you all—but so that the Scripture may be fulfilled, He who eats bread with Me has lifted up his heel against Me.” He says here again what He said before, to put them to shame: “For if the servant is not greater than his master, nor the one sent greater than the one who sent him, and I have done these things, how much more ought you to do them.” Then, so that no one will say, “Why are You saying these things now? Don’t we already know them?” He adds this very point: “I am not speaking to you as people who do not know, but so that you may demonstrate by your actions the things I have spoken about.” For everyone “knows,” but not everyone “does.” That is why He said, “Blessed are you if you do them”; and that is why I too keep saying the same thing to you, even though you know it, so that I may move you to act. For even Jews “know,” yet they are not “blessed,” because they do not do what they know. “I do not speak,” He says, “of you all.” Oh, what patience! He still does not expose the traitor, but keeps the matter veiled, giving him room to repent. He exposes him and yet does not expose him when He says, “He who eats bread with Me has lifted up his heel against Me.” It seems to me that “The servant is not greater than his lord” was also said for this purpose: if anyone should ever suffer harm from household servants or anyone of lower status, they should not take offense, looking to the example of Judas, who received ten thousand good things and repaid his Benefactor with the opposite. That is why He added, “He who eats bread with Me.” Passing over everything else, He chose what was most likely to restrain him and put him to shame: “He who was fed by Me,” He says, “and shared My table.” And He spoke these words to teach them to do good to those who harmed them, even if such people remained incurable. But after saying, “I do not speak of you all,” so as not to make more than one person afraid, He finally singles out the traitor by saying, “He who eats bread with Me.” For “not of you all” does not point to any one individual, so He added, “He who eats bread with Me,” showing that wretched man that He was being seized with full knowledge, not in ignorance. This alone was especially likely to restrain him. And He did not say, “betrays Me,” but, “has lifted up his heel against Me,” wanting to portray the deceit, the treachery, the secrecy of the plot. [3.] These things are written so that we will not bear malice toward those who injure us, but will rebuke them and weep for them; for those who deserve our tears are not those who suffer wrong, but those who do it. The greedy person, the false accuser, and anyone who does any other evil inflict the greatest injury on themselves and do us the greatest good, if we do not take revenge. Take this case: someone has robbed you. Have you given thanks for the injury and glorified God? Through that thanksgiving you have gained ten thousand rewards, just as he has gathered indescribable fire for himself. But if someone says, “What if I ‘could’ not defend myself against the person who wronged me, because I was weaker?” I would say this: you could have expressed discontent and impatience (for these things are in our power), prayed against the person who hurt you, hurled ten thousand curses at him, and spoken badly of him to everyone. So someone who has not done these things will be rewarded even for not defending himself, since it is clear that even if he had had the power, he would not have done so. When an injured person has a small soul, he uses any weapon at hand to defend himself against the one who injured him: curses, abuse, plots. You, then, must not only refrain from these things, but even pray for him; for if you refrain from them and even pray for him, you have become like God. For it says, “Pray for those who mistreat you—that you may be like your Father who is in Heaven.” ( Matt. v. 44, 45.) Do you see how we gain the most from the insults of others? Does anything delight God so much as not returning evil for evil? But what am I saying? Not returning evil for evil? Surely we are commanded to give the opposite in return: good deeds and prayers. That is why Christ also repaid the man who was about to betray Him with the opposite in every way. He washed his feet, exposed his guilt privately, rebuked him gently, cared for him, allowed him to share His table and His kiss, and even these things did not make him better; nevertheless (Christ) continued doing His own part. But come, let us teach you even from the example of servants, and (to make the lesson stronger) those in the Old (Testament), so that you may know that we have no excuse when we hold on to a wrong. Would you like me to tell you about Moses, or shall we go still farther back? For the older the examples we can point to, the more they surpass us. “Why?” Because virtue was more difficult then. Those men had no written commands, no models for living; instead, their nature fought unarmed, on its own, and was forced to drift in every direction without ballast. That is also why, when praising Noah, God did not simply call him perfect, but added, “in his generation” ( Gen. vii. 1 ); meaning, “at that time,” when there were many obstacles. Although many others shone after him, he will receive no less than they do, for in his own time he was perfect. Who, then, was patient before Moses? The blessed and noble Joseph, who shone through his chastity and shone no less through his patient endurance. He was sold when he had done no wrong, but was attending to others, serving them, and performing all the duties of household servants. They brought an evil accusation against him, and he did not defend himself, though he had his father on his side. Indeed, he even went to carry food to them in the wilderness, and when he did not find them, he did not give up or turn back (although he had an excuse to do so if he had chosen), but stayed among the wild beasts and those savage men, preserving a true brother’s affection. Again, when he was living in prison and was asked why, he said nothing against them, but only, “I have done nothing,” and, “I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews.” And afterward, when he was made lord, he fed them and rescued them from ten thousand dangers. If we are watchful, our neighbor’s wickedness is not strong enough to drive us from our own virtue. But the others were not like him: they stripped him, tried to kill him, and taunted him about his dream, even though they had received their food from him, and plotted to deprive him of life and liberty. And they ate, unconcerned about their brother lying naked in the pit. What could be worse than such brutality? Were they not worse than any number of murderers? And afterward, when they had pulled him up, they handed him over to ten thousand deaths, selling him to barbarian and savage men who were traveling to barbarians. Yet when he became ruler, he not only spared them punishment, but even absolved them of their sin, at least as far as he himself was concerned, calling what had happened God’s providential arrangement, rather than any wickedness of theirs. And the things he did against them were not done out of resentment; in all of them he concealed his true feelings for his brother’s sake. Afterward, when he saw them clinging to him, he immediately threw off the mask, wept aloud, and embraced them as though he had received the greatest kindnesses—the very man they had previously disposed of. And he brought them all down into Egypt and repaid them with ten thousand good things. What excuse, then, will we have if, after the Law, after grace, and after so much heavenly wisdom has been added, we do not even try to rival the man who lived before grace and before the Law? Who will deliver us from punishment? For there is nothing, there is nothing more terrible than holding on to injuries. The man who owed ten thousand talents has shown this: at one time payment was not demanded from him, and at another it was demanded again. It was not demanded because of God’s loving kindness; but it was demanded because of his own wickedness and his malice toward his fellow servant. Knowing all these things, let us forgive our neighbors their offenses and repay them with deeds of the opposite kind, so that we too may receive mercy from God, through the grace and loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.
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Homilies on John, Homily 71
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