Homilies on Matthew, Homily 84

“And look, one of those who were with Jesus reached out his hand, drew his sword, struck a servant of the high priest, and cut off his ear.” Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back in its place, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword. Do you think that I cannot pray to the Father, and He will immediately give me more than twelve legions of angels? How then would the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must happen this way?” Who was this “one” who cut off the ear? John says that it was Peter. The act came from his fervor. But this other point deserves investigation: why were they carrying swords? That they carried them is clear not only from this incident, but also from their answer when asked: “Here are two.” But why did Christ even allow them to have swords? For Luke also confirms that He said to them, “When I sent you without a money bag, a travel bag, and shoes, did you lack anything?” And when they said, “Nothing,” He said to them, “But now, whoever has a money bag should take it, and a travel bag too, and whoever has none should sell his clothing and buy a sword.” And when they said, “Here are two swords,” He said to them, “It is enough.” Why, then, did He allow them to have them? To assure them that He was going to be betrayed. That is why He tells them, “Let him buy a sword”—not so that they would arm themselves, far from it, but to indicate by this that He would be betrayed. And why does He mention a travel bag too? He was teaching them to be clearheaded and watchful from then on, and to make a serious effort themselves. At first He cared for them (since they were inexperienced) by exercising His power abundantly, but afterward, bringing them out like young birds from the nest, He commands them to use their own wings. Then, so that they would not suppose that He was leaving them alone out of weakness when He commanded them to do their part too, He reminds them of what happened before, saying, “When I sent you without a money bag, did you lack anything?” In this way they could learn His power from both things: from His protecting them, and from His now gradually leaving them to themselves. But where did the swords there come from? They had come from supper and from the table. There were also likely to be swords there because of the lamb, and the disciples, hearing that some people were coming out against Him, took them for defense, intending to fight for their Master. This was entirely their own idea. That is also why Peter is rebuked for using his sword, and receives a severe threat. For he was resisting the servant who approached with real passion, yet he was doing this for his Master, rather than defending himself. Christ, however, allowed no harm to result. He healed the man and performed a great miracle, enough to show at once His patience and His power, and His disciple’s affection and gentleness. For Peter acted out of affection then, and now he acted out of obedience. When he heard, “Put your sword into its sheath,” he obeyed immediately, and afterward he never does this again. But another writer says that they also asked, “Shall we strike?” but that He forbade it, healed the man, rebuked His disciple, and threatened him to bring him to obedience. “For all who take the sword,” He said, “will die by the sword.” And He adds a reason, saying, “Do you think that I cannot pray to my Father, and He will immediately give me more than twelve legions of angels? But this is so that the Scriptures may be fulfilled.” With these words He extinguished their anger, indicating that the Scriptures also approved of this. That is also why He prayed there: so that they would accept meekly what happened to Him once they learned that this too was happening according to God’s will. And He comforted them with these two things: both the punishment of those plotting against Him—“For all,” He says, “who take the sword will perish by the sword”—and the fact that He was not undergoing these things against His will—“For I can pray,” He says, “to my Father.” And why did He not say, “Do you think that I cannot destroy them all?” Because they were more likely to believe what He actually said, since they did not yet have the right belief about Him. A little earlier He had said, “My soul is deeply sorrowful, even to death,” and, “Father, let the cup pass from me”; and He had appeared in anguish, sweating, and being strengthened by an angel. Since He had shown many signs of human nature, He was unlikely to be believed if He had said, “Do you think that I cannot destroy them?” That is why He says, “What, do you think that I cannot pray to my Father?” And again He speaks humbly when He says, “He will immediately give me twelve legions of angels.” For if one angel killed a hundred and eighty-five thousand armed men, what need was there for twelve legions against a thousand men? But He shapes His language to suit their terror and weakness, for they were indeed dead with fear. That is also why He confronts them with the Scriptures, saying, “How then will the Scriptures be fulfilled?” and alarming them with this too. For if the Scriptures approve of this, are you opposing them and fighting against them? 2. He says these things to His disciples, but to the others He says, “Have you come out as against a thief, with swords and clubs to arrest me? I sat teaching in the temple every day, and you did not seize me.” See how many things He does that could awaken them. He threw them to the ground, He healed the servant’s ear, He threatened them with being killed: “For those who take the sword,” He says, “will perish by the sword.” By healing the ear, He also gave assurance of these things. In every way, through both present events and things to come, He revealed His power and showed that their own strength had not enabled them to seize Him. That is why He also adds, “I was with you every day and sat teaching, and you did not seize me,” making it clear through this too that they had seized Him with His permission. He passed over the miracles and mentioned the teaching so that He would not seem to boast. When I taught, you did not seize me; did you come against me when I kept silent? I was in the temple, and no one seized me, and now do you come upon me late at night, at midnight, with swords and clubs? What need was there for these weapons against Him who was always with you? Through these things He taught them that unless He had yielded voluntarily, they would not have succeeded even then. For they could not hold Him when He was in their hands, and had not succeeded when they had Him in their midst; so even then they could not have succeeded unless He had been willing. After this He also answers the difficult question of why He was willing then. For “this was done,” He says, “so that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled.” See how, even to the last hour and in the very act of being betrayed, He did everything to reform them: healing, prophesying, threatening. “For,” He says, “they will perish by the sword.” To show that He is suffering voluntarily, He says, “I was with you teaching every day”; to reveal His agreement with the Father, He adds, “So that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled.” But why did they not seize Him in the temple? Because they would not have dared to do so in the temple on account of the people. That is also why He went outside, giving them security through both the place and the time, and taking away their excuse even to the last hour. For if He gave up even Himself in order to obey the prophets, how could He have taught things contrary to them? “Then all His disciples,” it says, “abandoned Him and fled.” For when He was seized, they stayed; but when He had said these things to the crowds, they fled. From then on they saw that escape was no longer possible, since He was giving Himself up to them voluntarily and saying that this was happening according to the Scriptures. And when they had fled, “they led Him away to Caiaphas; but Peter followed and went inside to see how it would end.” The disciple was full of fervor. He did not flee when he saw them fleeing, but stood his ground and went in with Him. And although John did so too, he was “known to the high priest.” And why did they lead Him away to the place where they were all assembled? So that they could do everything with the chief priests’ consent. For Caiaphas was high priest then, and they were all waiting for Christ there. They went so far as to spend the whole night and give up their sleep for this purpose. They did not even eat the Passover then, but stayed awake for this other purpose. For John, after saying that “it was early,” added, “they did not enter the judgment hall, so that they would not be defiled, but could eat the Passover.” What must we say, then? That they ate it on another day and broke the law because of their eagerness for this murder. For Christ would not have broken the law concerning the time of the Passover; it was those who dared anything and trampled a thousand laws underfoot who did so. Since they were boiling with rage and had often tried to seize Him without success, when they finally captured Him unexpectedly, they chose even to skip the Passover to satisfy their murderous desire. That is also why they were all assembled together. It was a council of corrupt men, and they asked some questions, wanting to give this plot the appearance of a court of justice. For “their testimonies did not even agree.” This court of justice was such a sham, and everything was full of confusion and disorder. “But false witnesses came and said, ‘This fellow said, I will destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it.’” He had indeed said, “In three days,” but He did not say, “I will destroy,” but, “Destroy”; and He was speaking about His own body, not about that temple. What, then, does the high priest do? Wanting to force Him to defend Himself so that he could trap Him through His defense, he says, “Do You not hear what these men testify against You? But He kept silent.” Attempts at a defense were useless, since no one was listening. This was only the appearance of a court of justice; in reality it was an attack by robbers, assaulting Him without cause, as in a cave or on a road. That is why “He kept silent,” but the other continued, saying, “I put You under oath by the living God: tell us whether You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. But He said, ‘You have said it. Nevertheless, I tell you, in the future you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of power and coming in the clouds.’ Then the high priest tore his clothes, saying, ‘He has spoken blasphemy.’” He did this to strengthen the accusation and, by his action, make what He had said seem more serious. Since what had been said filled the hearers with fear, the high priest does here what they did in Stephen’s case when they stopped their ears. 3. Yet what kind of blasphemy was this? For earlier, when they were gathered together, He had said, “The Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand,’” and had explained the saying. They dared say nothing, but kept silent, and from that time on they no longer contradicted Him. Why, then, did they now call the saying blasphemy? And why did Christ answer them this way? To take away every excuse they had, because to the last day He taught that He was Christ, that He sits at the Father’s right hand, and that He will come again to judge the world. These were the words of someone revealing His complete agreement with the Father. After tearing his clothes, he says, “What do you think?” He does not pronounce the sentence himself, but invites it from them, as though the sins were admitted and the blasphemy obvious. Since they knew that an investigation and a careful judgment would clear Him of all blame, they condemned Him among themselves and prejudged the matter for their hearers by saying, “You have heard the blasphemy,” all but compelling and forcing them to pronounce the sentence. What, then, do they say? “He deserves death,” so that, having taken Him as already condemned, they could then pressure Pilate to pass sentence. Those others also become accomplices in this when they say, “He deserves death.” They themselves accuse, they themselves judge, they themselves pass sentence; they themselves fill every role at that point. But why did they not bring up the Sabbaths? Because He had often silenced them; besides, they wanted to trap and condemn Him on the basis of what had just been said. And the high priest acted before they could, pronounced the sentence as though it came from them, and swayed them all by tearing his robes. Then he led Him away to Pilate as someone already condemned, and carried everything through in this way. Before Pilate, at any rate, they said nothing of this kind. What did they say instead? “If this Man were not a criminal, we would not have handed Him over to you,” attempting to put Him to death through political accusations. And why did they not kill Him secretly? They also wanted to damage His reputation. Since many had now heard Him, admired Him, and been amazed at Him, they tried to have Him put to death publicly, in everyone’s presence. But Christ did not prevent it. He made full use of their wickedness to establish the truth, so that His death would be publicly known. And the result was the opposite of what they wanted. They wanted to make a spectacle of it and disgrace Him that way, but through these very things He shone all the more brightly. Just as they said, “Let us put Him to death, so that the Romans do not come and take away our place and nation,” and after they put Him to death, this happened, so it was here too. Their aim was to crucify Him publicly to damage His reputation, and the opposite happened. For proof that they did indeed have the power to put Him to death themselves, listen to what Pilate says: “Take Him and judge Him according to your law.” But they would not, so that He would appear to have been put to death as a lawbreaker, a usurper, and an instigator of rebellion. That is also why they crucified thieves with Him; that is also why they said, “Do not write that this man is King of the Jews, but that He said it.” But all these things serve the truth, leaving them without even the slightest pretext for a defense that is certainly shameless. At the tomb too, in the same way, the seals and the watches made the truth more conspicuous; and the mockery, the jeers, and the insults again had this very same effect. For this is the nature of error: it is destroyed by the very means it uses to plot. That, at least, is what happened here too. Those who seemed to have conquered were the very ones most disgraced, defeated, and ruined; but He who seemed to have been defeated has shone forth above all and conquered mightily. So let us not seek victory in every situation or avoid defeat in every situation. There are times when victory brings harm and defeat brings benefit. Take angry people, for example. The one who has behaved outrageously seems to have prevailed, but he above all is the one subdued and harmed by a terrible passion. The one who has endured nobly is the one who has prevailed and conquered. While one has not had the strength to overcome even his own sickness, the other has removed someone else’s. One has been subdued by his own passion; the other has overcome even another person’s passion. Far from being burned up, he has put out someone else’s flame when it was blazing high. But if he had wanted to gain what seems to be victory, he himself would have been overcome, and by inflaming the other person, he would have made him suffer from this even more severely. Like women, both would have been disgracefully and miserably overthrown by their anger. As it is, the one who has practiced self-control is freed from this disgrace and, through his honorable defeat, has raised a glorious trophy over anger both in himself and in his neighbor. 4. So let us not seek victory in every situation. The person who cheats has conquered the person he wronged, but with an evil victory, one that brings destruction to its winner. But the person who is wronged and seems to have been conquered, if he has borne it with self-control, is above all the one who wears the crown. For being defeated is often better, and this is the best way to win. Whether someone cheats, strikes, or envies, the person who is defeated and does not enter the struggle is the one who has the victory. And why do I speak of cheating and envy? Even someone dragged off to martyrdom conquers in this way, by being bound, beaten, maimed, and killed. What is defeat in war—the fighter’s fall—is victory among us. For we never overcome by doing wrong, but always by suffering wrong. In this way the victory also becomes more glorious, when we who suffer get the better of those who act against us. This shows that the victory comes from God. For its nature is the opposite of outward conquest, and this itself is above all an unmistakable sign of strength. In the same way, rocks in the sea break the waves by being struck; in the same way, all the saints were acclaimed and crowned and raised their glorious trophies, winning this peaceful victory. “For do not work yourself up,” He says, “or wear yourself out. God has given you this power: to conquer through endurance alone, without fighting. Do not set yourself against him as he does against you, and you have conquered; do not fight, and you have won the crown. You are much better and stronger than your opponent. Why do you disgrace yourself? Do not allow him to say that you got the better of him by fighting. Instead, let him be amazed and marvel at your invincible power, and tell everyone that you have conquered without even entering the struggle.” This is also how the blessed Joseph won a good reputation, everywhere getting the better of those who wronged him by suffering wrong. His brothers and the Egyptian woman were among those plotting against him, but he prevailed over them all. Do not tell me about the prison where he lived or the royal courts where she lived. Instead, show me who is conquered, who is defeated, who is dejected, and who is joyful. For far from being able to prevail over the righteous man, she could not master even her own passion; but he prevailed both over her and over that terrible sickness. If you wish, listen to her very words, and you will see the trophy: “You brought a Hebrew servant in here among us to mock us.” It was not this man who mocked you, you wretched, unhappy woman, but the devil who told you that you could break that unyielding stone. Your husband did not bring a Hebrew servant in to plot against you; the wicked spirit brought in that unclean lust. He was the one who mocked you. What, then, did Joseph do? He kept silent and was condemned in this way, just as Christ also was. For all those things are types of these. Joseph was in chains, and she was in royal courts. Yet what does that matter? Even while he remained in chains, he was more glorious than any crowned victor; while she, living in royal chambers, was more miserable than any prisoner. But we can see the victory and the defeat not only from this, but also from the outcome itself. For who achieved his desired goal? Wasn’t it the prisoner, rather than the highborn lady? He struggled to preserve his chastity, while she struggled to destroy it. Who, then, achieved the desired result: the one who suffered wrong or the one who did wrong? It is quite clear that it was the one who suffered. Surely, then, he is the one who has conquered. Knowing these things, let us pursue this victory, which is won by suffering wrong, and flee from the victory gained by doing wrong. In this way we will live this present life in complete tranquility and great peace, and attain the good things to come, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.