Homilies on Matthew, Homily 72

“Then Jesus spoke to the crowds and to His disciples, saying, The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat: therefore, do everything they tell you to do; but do not follow their works.” Then. When? When He had said these things, when He had silenced them; when He had brought them to the point where they no longer dared to test Him; when He had shown that their condition was incurable. And since He had mentioned “the Lord” and “my Lord,” He returns to the law. Yet the law said nothing of this kind, but, “The Lord your God is one Lord.” But Scripture calls the whole Old Testament the law. He says these things to show in every way His complete agreement with Him who begot Him. For if He were opposed to Him, He would have said the opposite about the law; instead, He commands such great reverence for it that, even when its teachers are corrupt, He instructs His hearers to hold to it. But here He is discussing their lives and morals, since their corrupt lives and love of glory were the chief causes of their unbelief. To reform His hearers, He therefore commands with extraordinary earnestness what contributes above all to salvation: not to despise our teachers or rise up against our priests. And He not only commands this but does it Himself. For although they were corrupt, He does not strip them of their office, making their condemnation heavier and leaving His disciples no excuse for disobedience. I mean that He removes even this excuse, so that no one can say, “Because my teacher is bad, I have become more careless.” At any rate, He upheld their authority so firmly, although they were wicked men, that even after such a serious accusation He said, “Do everything they command you to do.” For they speak God’s words, not their own: the laws He established through Moses. And notice how much honor He showed Moses, again showing His agreement with the Old Testament; indeed, even through this He makes them worthy of reverence. “For they sit,” He says, “on Moses’ seat.” Since He could not establish their credibility from their lives, He does so on the grounds available to Him: their seat and their succession from Moses. But when you hear “everything,” do not understand it to mean the whole law—for instance, the regulations about food, sacrifices, and the like. For how could He say this about things He had already abolished? He meant everything that corrects moral principles, reforms the disposition, agrees with the laws of the New Testament, and no longer allows them to remain under the yoke of the law. Why, then, does He give these things divine authority through Moses rather than through the law of grace? Because before the crucifixion, the time had not yet come to declare these things plainly. But beyond what has been said, I think He has another purpose in saying these things. Since He was about to accuse them, He first removed any thought that He coveted their authority or was acting out of hostility, so that He would not appear that way to foolish people. Then, having cleared Himself of suspicion, He begins His accusation. And why does He expose their guilt and speak against them at such length? To put the crowd on their guard so that they would not fall into the same sins. For warning people against wrongdoing does not have the same force as pointing out those who have done wrong, just as recommending what is right does not have the same force as presenting those who have done well. That is also why He says beforehand, “Do not follow their works.” For to keep His hearers from supposing that listening to them meant they should also imitate them, He corrects this impression and turns their apparent dignity into an accusation against them. For what can be more wretched than a teacher whose disciples are kept safe by paying no attention to his life? So their apparent dignity becomes a very serious accusation against them, when their lives are shown to be such that those who imitate them are ruined. That is why He also launches into His accusations against them. But this is not His only reason: He also wants to show that both their previous unbelief, when they refused to believe, and the crucifixion they later dared to carry out were an indictment of their perversity, not of Him whom they crucified and refused to believe. But see where He begins and how He makes His condemnation of them more severe. “For they say,” He says, “and do not do.” Everyone deserves blame for breaking the law, but especially someone with the authority to teach, for he deserves condemnation twice and three times over. First, because he breaks the law; second, because, although he should reform others, he himself stumbles, and his position makes him deserve double punishment; and third, because he corrupts others all the more by committing such a transgression while holding a teacher’s position. Along with these things He brings another accusation against them: they are harsh toward those accountable to them. “For they tie up heavy burdens that are hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not move them with their finger.” Here He mentions a twofold wickedness: they demand an extremely strict way of life, without any allowance, from those they rule, while allowing themselves great ease. A truly good ruler should take the opposite approach: he should judge himself strictly and without leniency, but be gentle and ready to make allowances for those he rules. These men behaved in exactly the opposite way. 2. Everyone who practices self-restraint only in words is like this: unforgiving and hard to bear, because they have no experience of how difficult it is in practice. This too is no small fault, and it greatly increases the force of the previous accusation. But please notice how He makes this accusation more severe as well. He did not say, “they cannot,” but, “they will not.” And He did not say, “carry,” but, “move with a finger”—that is, they will not even come near the burdens or touch them. But where do they put their energy and effort? Into forbidden things. For “they do all their works,” He says, “to be seen by people.” He says this to accuse them of craving empty praise, which was their ruin. The earlier things were signs of harshness and carelessness; these are signs of a mad desire for glory. This drew them away from God, made them compete before other spectators, and ruined them. For whatever spectators someone has, once he makes it his aim to please them, the contests he puts on take their character from them. Someone who wrestles among noble people takes on contests of that kind, while someone among the indifferent and lazy becomes more careless himself. For example, does someone have a spectator who delights in ridicule? He too becomes someone who mocks others, to please the spectator. Does another have a spectator who is serious and practices self-control? He tries to become like him, because that is the character of the person who praises him. But see again how the accusation is made more severe here too. They do not do some things this way and others another way; they do absolutely everything this way. Then, after blaming them for craving empty praise, He shows that they are not even vain about great and necessary things (for they did not have these either, but lacked good works), but about things without warmth or worth, things that clearly proved their low character: their phylacteries and the borders of their garments. “For they make their phylacteries broad,” He says, “and enlarge the borders of their garments.” And what are these phylacteries and borders? Since they were constantly forgetting God’s benefits, He commanded that His wonderful works be written on little tablets and that these be hung from their hands (which is also why He said, “They shall be immovable in your eyes”). They called these phylacteries, just as many of our women now wear Gospels hung around their necks. And so that another thing might remind them as well—just as many people who expect to forget tie a piece of linen or a thread around their finger—God commanded them, like children, “to sew a blue ribbon on their garments, on the fringe that hung around their feet, so that they might look at it and remember the commandments”; and these were called “borders.” They were diligent about these things, widening the strips of the tablets and enlarging the borders of their garments, which was a sign of extreme vanity. For why are you vain and making these wide? Is this your good work? What benefit is it to you at all if you do not gain the good results they are meant to produce? For God does not want us to enlarge and widen these things, but to remember His benefits. But if we must not seek empty admiration even in giving alms and praying, although these take effort and are good deeds on our part, how can you, a Jew, take pride in these things, which above all expose your carelessness? But they suffered from this disease not only in these things, but in other little things too. For “they love,” He says, “the places of highest honor at feasts, the chief seats in the synagogues, greetings in the marketplaces, and being called Rabbi by people.” Although someone may think these things small, they cause great evils. These things have overthrown both cities and churches. Even now I feel like weeping when I hear about the first seats and the greetings, and consider how many evils they have produced in the churches of God. There is no need to tell you about these now; indeed, those who are elderly do not even need to learn them from us. But please notice how the craving for empty praise prevailed, even in the synagogues, where they had entered to instruct others, when they had been commanded not to be vain. Having this feeling at feasts, however strong it may be, does not seem so dreadful, although even there teachers should be held in reverence—and everywhere, not only in church. Just as a human being, wherever he appears, is clearly distinguished from beasts, so a teacher, whether speaking, keeping silent, dining, or doing anything else, should be distinguished by his walk, his appearance, his clothing, and everything about him. But they made themselves ridiculous on every count and disgraced themselves in every respect, making it their aim to pursue what they should flee. For it says that they love these things; but if loving them deserves blame, how bad must doing them be? And how great an evil it must be to hunt and struggle for them! 3. With the other things, He went no further than accusing them, treating them as small and trivial, as though His disciples needed no correction at all about these matters. But He brings forward the cause of all the evils—ambition and the forcible seizure of the teacher’s chair—and carefully corrects it, addressing it forcefully and warning them earnestly. For what does He say? “But do not be called Rabbi.” Then the reason follows: “For you have one master, and you are all brothers”; and no one has any advantage over another, since no one knows anything on his own. That is why Paul also says, “For who is Paul, and who is Apollos, but servants?” He did not say masters. And again, “Do not call anyone father”—not to forbid them from using the name, but so that they would know whom they should call Father in the highest sense. For just as a master is not a master in the primary sense, neither is a father. For He is the cause of all, both masters and fathers. And again He adds, “Neither be called guides, for you have one guide, Christ”; He did not say, “I.” Just as earlier He said, “What do you think of Christ?” and did not say, “of Me,” so He does here too. But here I would like to ask what those who repeatedly apply the term “one, one” to the Father alone, to exclude the Only-begotten, would say. Is the Father a guide? Everyone would affirm it, and no one would deny it. Yet He says, “You have one guide, Christ.” Just as calling Christ the one guide does not exclude the Father from being a guide, so calling the Father Master does not exclude the Son from being Master. For the expression “one, one” distinguishes Him from human beings and the rest of creation. After warning them against this terrible plague and correcting them, He also teaches them how to escape it: through humility. That is why He adds, “The greatest among you shall be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” For nothing equals the practice of humility, which is why He constantly reminds them of this virtue, both when He brought the children into their midst and now. And on the mountain, when He began the Beatitudes, He started with this. Here too He uproots ambition through it, saying, “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” Do you see how He draws the hearer all the way over to the opposite course? He not only forbids him to set his heart on the first place, but requires him to pursue the last. For this is how you will obtain your desire, He says. So anyone who pursues his desire for the first place must pursue the last. “For whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” And where will we find this humility? Shall we go again to the city of virtue, the tents of the holy men—I mean the mountains and the groves? For there too we will see this height of humility. For men distinguished by their rank in the world, or by their wealth, humble themselves in every way: through their clothing, their homes, and the people they serve. They write humility into everything, as though in written letters. Everything that encourages arrogance—fine clothes, splendid houses, and many servants, things that often drive people to arrogance even against their will—has been removed. For they light their own fires, split their own logs, cook for themselves, and personally serve those who come there. No one there can be heard insulting anyone, or seen being insulted, receiving commands, or giving them. Instead, all devote themselves to those being served, and everyone washes the strangers’ feet; there is much competition over this. A man does this without asking who the person is or whether he is a slave or free, but performs this service for everyone. No one there is great or lowly. What then? Is there confusion? Far from it: there is the greatest order. For if someone is lowly, the great man takes no notice of this, but considers himself lower even than that person, and so becomes great. There is one table for everyone, both those who are served and those who serve: the same food, the same clothes, the same homes, the same way of life. The great person there is the one who eagerly takes on the lowliest task. There is no “mine” and “yours”; this expression, which causes countless wars, has been wiped out. 4. And why are you amazed that everyone has one way of life, one table, and one kind of clothing, when they even have one soul—not only in substance (for that is true of all people), but in love? How, then, could it ever rise up against itself? There is no wealth and poverty there, no honor and dishonor; how, then, could haughtiness and arrogance find a way in? They do indeed differ in virtue, some being little and others great; but, as I said, no one takes notice of this. The one who is lesser in virtue feels no pain at being despised, for there is no one to despise him. And if anyone should scorn him, this above all is what they are taught: to be despised, scorned, and treated as nothing, in word and deed. They associate with the poor and disabled, and their tables are full of these guests; for this they are worthy of the heavens. One tends the wounds of the mutilated, another leads the blind by the hand, and a third carries someone whose leg is crippled. There is no crowd of flatterers or parasites there; indeed, they do not even know what flattery is. How, then, could they ever become conceited? For there is great equality among them, which also makes virtue much easier. For these things teach those who are inferior better than being forced to yield first place to the others would. Just as a hotheaded man learns from someone who is struck and submits to it, so an ambitious man learns from someone who does not claim glory but despises it. They do this abundantly there. Their competition to avoid first place and refuse it altogether is as great as our competition to obtain it; and they are deeply eager to outdo one another in giving honor, rather than receiving it. Besides, their very occupations encourage them to practice humility and keep them from being puffed up. For who, tell me, will ever be proud while digging the earth, watering, planting, making baskets, weaving sackcloth, or doing any other manual work? Who will ever suffer from this disease while living in poverty and struggling with hunger? No one. So humility is easy for them. Just as it is hard for us here to be humble because so many applaud and admire us, there it is extremely easy. Such a man pays attention only to the wilderness, and sees birds flying, trees swaying, a breeze blowing, and streams rushing through valleys. How, then, could someone living in such deep solitude become conceited? This does not, however, give us an excuse for being proud while living among people. For Abraham, while among Canaanites, said, “I am only dust and ashes”; David, in the midst of camps, said, “I am a worm, and no man”; and the apostle, in the midst of the world, said, “I am not worthy to be called an apostle.” What consolation or defense will we have, then, when we fail to practice humility even with such great examples? For just as they deserve countless crowns for being the first to walk the path of virtue, so we deserve countless punishments, since neither those who have died and are set before us in books, nor even those who are alive and admired for their deeds, inspire us to follow their example. For what could you say to explain your failure to change? Are you unable to read, and have you not examined the Scriptures to learn the virtues of people in the past? To tell the truth, it is itself blameworthy not to enter the church and drink from those sacred streams when it is always open. Still, even if you do not know those who have died through the Scriptures, you ought to see these living men. But is there no one to lead you? Come to me, and I will show you these holy men’s places of refuge; come and learn something useful from them. They are shining lamps in every part of the earth; they stand like walls around the cities. This is why they have settled in the deserts: to teach you to despise the turmoil in the midst of the world. For they are strong and can enjoy calm even amid raging waters; but you, who leak on every side, need quiet and a little time to catch your breath after the waves that follow one another. Go there continually, then, so that, after cleansing away the lingering stain through their prayers and counsel, you may both live this present life in the best way and attain the good things to come, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom may glory, might, and honor be to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.