Homilies on Matthew, Homily 88

“Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice and said, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Some of those standing there heard this and said, this man is calling for Elijah. Immediately one of them ran, took a sponge, filled it with vinegar, put it on a reed, and gave Him a drink.” This is the sign He had earlier promised to give them when they asked for one, saying, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign, and no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah”; He meant His cross and His death, His burial and His resurrection. And again, describing the power of the cross in another way, He said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am He.” What He means is this: “When you have crucified me and think you have defeated me, then, more than ever, you will know my power.” For after the crucifixion, the city was destroyed and the Jewish state came to an end; they lost their government and their freedom, the gospel flourished, and the word spread to the ends of the world. Both sea and land, both the inhabited earth and the desert, continually proclaim its power. These are the things He means, along with what happened at the very time of the crucifixion. Indeed, it was far more marvelous for these things to happen while He was nailed to the cross than while He was walking on earth. And the wonder was not only in this, but also in the fact that the sign they had asked for came from heaven, and it covered the whole world. This had never happened before, except in Egypt alone, when the Passover was about to be fulfilled. For those events were a type of these. And notice when it happened: at midday, so that everyone living on earth might know it, when it was day throughout the world. This was enough to convert them, both because of the greatness of the miracle and because it happened at just the right time. For it happened after all their insults and lawless mockery, when they had vented their anger, stopped mocking, had their fill of jeering, and said everything they wanted to say. Then He brings the darkness, so that at least in this way (after venting their anger) they might benefit from the miracle. For working these things while on the cross was more marvelous than coming down from it. If they thought He Himself had done it, they should have believed and been afraid; if they thought it was the Father rather than He, they still should have been moved to remorse, for that darkness was a sign of His anger at their crime. That it was not an eclipse, but anger and indignation, is clear not only from this but also from its duration: it continued for three hours, while an eclipse takes place in a single moment. Those who have seen one know this; indeed, one has occurred even in our own generation. And why, you may ask, did not everyone marvel and recognize Him as God? Because the human race was then gripped by great indifference and wickedness. And this was only one miracle, which passed away immediately after it happened. No one cared to investigate its cause, and prejudice and the habit of ungodliness were deeply entrenched. They did not know what had caused it, and perhaps thought it had happened through an eclipse or some natural process. And why are you surprised at outsiders who knew nothing and, in their great indifference, made no inquiries, when even those in Judea itself continued to abuse Him after so many miracles, although He clearly showed them that He Himself had done this? This is why He speaks even after this: so that they might learn that He was still alive and that He Himself had done it, and so that this too might soften them. He says, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” so that to His last breath they might see that He honors His Father and is no enemy of God. That is also why He voiced a cry from the prophet, bearing witness to the Old Testament even in His last hour. And it was not simply a cry from the prophet, but one spoken in Hebrew, so that it would be clear and understandable to them. In everything He shows that He is of one mind with Him who begot Him. But notice here too their recklessness, lack of restraint, and foolishness. They thought, it says, that He was calling Elijah, and immediately they gave Him vinegar to drink. But another came to Him and “pierced His side with a spear.” What could be more lawless, what more brutal, than these men, who carried their madness so far that they finally insulted even a dead body? But please notice how He used their wicked deeds for our salvation. For after the blow, the fountains of our salvation gushed out from there. “And Jesus, after crying out in a loud voice, gave up His Spirit.” This is what He meant when He said, “I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it up again,” and, “I lay it down of my own accord.” This is why He cried out: to show that the act was done by His power. Mark, at any rate, says that “Pilate was amazed that He was already dead,” and that the centurion believed above all for this reason: because He died with power. This cry tore the veil, opened the tombs, and left the house desolate. He did this without intending any insult to the temple (for how could He, who says, “Do not make my Father’s house a house of trade”?), but to declare that they were unworthy even of His dwelling there, just as when He handed it over to the Babylonians. But these things were not done only for this reason. What happened was also a prophecy of the coming desolation and of the change to a greater and higher state, and a sign of His power. Along with these things, He also revealed Himself through what followed them: the raising of the dead. For in Elisha’s case, someone rose again on touching a dead body; but now He raised them by a voice, while His body remained up there on the cross. Besides, those earlier events were a type of this. All of that happened so that this might be believed. And the dead are not merely raised: rocks are also split and the earth is shaken, so that they might learn that He could have struck them blind and torn them to pieces. For He who split rocks apart and darkened the world could much more easily have done these things to them, if He had wished. But He did not wish to. Instead, after venting His anger on the elements, He wished to save them through mercy. Yet their madness did not subside. Such is envy, such is jealousy: it is not easily stopped. At that time they shamelessly resisted what was happening before their eyes; afterward they resisted the events themselves, when, despite the seal placed on Him and the soldiers guarding Him, He rose again, and they heard about it from the guards themselves. They even gave money both to corrupt others and to suppress the account of the resurrection. So do not be surprised that they were perverse at this time too, since they were so thoroughly prepared to resist everything shamelessly. But notice this other point: how great the signs He had performed were, some from Heaven, some on earth, some in the temple itself. They marked His indignation while also showing that what had been inaccessible could now be entered, that Heaven would be opened, and that the service would be transferred to the true Holy of Holies. They said, “If He is the King of Israel, let Him come down now from the cross,” but He shows that He is King of the whole world. And while those men said, “You who destroy this temple and build it in three days,” He shows that it will be left desolate forever. Again they said, “He saved others; He cannot save Himself,” but while remaining on the cross He proved this power most abundantly in the bodies of His servants. For if it was a great thing for Lazarus to rise on the fourth day, how much greater for all those who had fallen asleep long ago to appear alive at once, as a sign of the future resurrection. For “many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep arose,” it says, “and went into the holy city and appeared to many.” So that what had happened would not be considered imaginary, they appeared in the city, and to many people. And the centurion too then glorified God, saying, “Truly this was a righteous man. And the crowds who had gathered for that sight returned beating their breasts.” So great was the power of the crucified One that after so much mocking, scoffing, and jeering, both the centurion and the people were moved to remorse. And some say that there is also an account of this centurion’s martyrdom, after he had grown to maturity in the faith following these events. “And many women were there watching from a distance, who had followed Him and served Him: Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons.” The women saw these things happen, the very women most inclined to feel for Him and who mourned Him most deeply. And notice how devoted they were. They had followed Him and served Him, and they stayed even when danger came. That is why they saw everything: how He cried out, how He gave up His Spirit, how the rocks split, and all the rest. And these women are the first to see Jesus. The sex that was most condemned is the first to enjoy the sight of the blessings, and shows the greatest courage. When the disciples had fled, these women were there. But who were they? His mother, for she is called the mother of James, and the others. But another evangelist says that many also mourned what had happened and beat their breasts. This shows the cruelty of the Jews above all: they took pride in things others were mourning, and were neither moved by pity nor restrained by fear. For what happened expressed great anger. These were not merely signs, but all signs of anger: the darkness, the split rocks, the veil torn down the middle, the shaking of the earth. The indignation was overwhelming. “But Joseph went and asked for the body.” This was Joseph, who until recently had concealed his discipleship, but now, after Christ’s death, had become very bold. He was neither obscure nor unnoticed, but a member of the council and highly distinguished. This circumstance especially reveals his courage. For through his love for Jesus he exposed himself to death and made enemies of everyone, daring to ask for the body and refusing to stop until he obtained it. He shows his love and courage not only by taking it and burying it at great expense, but also by laying it in his own new tomb. This was arranged for a purpose: so that there would not be even the slightest suspicion that one person had risen in place of another. “And Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.” Why do they wait beside it? As yet they had no suitably great and exalted understanding of Him. That is why they had brought ointments and were waiting at the tomb, so that if the Jews’ madness subsided, they might go and embrace the body. Do you see the women’s courage? Do you see their love? Do you see their generosity with money? Their noble spirit even in the face of death? Let us men imitate the women; let us not abandon Jesus in times of trial. For they spent so much for Him even when He was dead, and risked their lives, while we (for again I say the same things) neither feed Him when He is hungry nor clothe Him when He is naked, but pass Him by when we see Him begging. Yet if you saw Him in person, every one of you would give up all his possessions. But even now it is the same. For He Himself has said, I am he. Why, then, do you not give up everything? For even now you hear Him say, You do it to me. There is no difference between giving to this man and giving to Him. You have no less than those women who fed Him then, but even much more. Do not be puzzled! Feeding Him when He appeared in His own person, which would be enough to move a heart of stone, is not as great as serving the poor, the disabled, and the person bent over, simply because He has said so. In the former case, the sight and dignity of the One who appears share the credit for what you do; but here the reward belongs entirely to your kindness. And there is proof of greater reverence for Him when, simply at His word, you serve your fellow servant and give him relief in every way. Give him relief, and believe Him who receives it and says, You give to me. For unless you had given to Him, He would not have considered you worthy of a kingdom. If you had not turned away from Him, if you had merely neglected some random person, He would not have sent you to hell. But because it is He Himself who is despised, the blame is great. In the same way, Paul persecuted Him by persecuting those who belong to Him; that is why He also said, “Why are you persecuting me?” So when we give, let us feel that we are giving to Christ Himself. For His words are more certain than our sight. Whenever you see a poor man, then, remember His words, by which He declared that it is He Himself who is fed. For although what you see is not Christ, Christ Himself receives and begs in this man’s form. But are you ashamed to hear that Christ begs? Be ashamed instead when you do not give to Him as He begs from you. For this brings shame, vengeance, and punishment. His begging comes from His goodness, so we should even take pride in it; but your refusal to give comes from your inhumanity. If you do not believe now that in passing by a poor man who is a believer you pass by Him, you will believe it then, when He brings you before everyone and says, “Insofar as you did not do it to these, you did not do it to me.” But God forbid that we should learn it that way. May He grant instead that we believe now, bear fruit, and hear that most blessed voice that brings us into the kingdom. But perhaps someone will say, “You talk to us every day about giving to the poor and kindness.” And I will not stop speaking about this. For if you had mastered it, even then I should not stop, for fear of making you more negligent. Still, if you had mastered it, I might have eased up a little. But if you have not even reached halfway, say these things to yourselves, not to me. For in blaming me you are acting like a little child who keeps hearing about the letter alpha but does not learn it, and then blames the teacher for constantly reminding him of it. For who has become more eager to give to the poor because of these talks? Who has laid down his money? Who has given half his possessions? Who a third? No one. How, then, can it be anything but absurd to demand that we stop teaching when you are not learning? You should do the opposite. Even if we wanted to stop, you should hold us back and say, We have not learned these things yet; how is it that you have stopped reminding us of them? If someone had an eye problem and I happened to be a doctor, and after bandaging it, applying ointment, and giving other treatment, I had not helped it much and therefore stopped, would he not come to the door of my office and protest? Would he not accuse me of great negligence for withdrawing on my own while the disease remained? And if, when he blamed me, I replied that I had bandaged it and applied ointment, would he accept that? Certainly not. He would immediately say, “And what good is that if I am still in pain?” Think this way about your soul as well. Or what if, after repeatedly bathing a lifeless, shriveled hand with warm water, I had failed to soften it? Would I not hear the same thing? Even now we are bathing a shriveled and withered hand, and that is why we will not stop until we can stretch it out completely. I wish that you too would talk about nothing else, at home and in the marketplace, at the table and at night, and even in your dreams. For if we always paid attention to these things by day, we would be occupied with them even in our dreams. What are you saying? That I am always talking about giving to the poor? I too wish there were no great need for me to give you this advice, and that I could speak about the battle against Jews, pagans, and heretics. But when you are not yet healthy, how can anyone arm you for the fight? How can he lead you into battle while you still have wounds and gashes? If I saw you completely healthy, I would lead you into that battle formation, and by the grace of Christ you would see tens of thousands lying dead, their heads piled one on another. In other books, at any rate, we have discussed these subjects at length. Yet even so we cannot win a complete victory, because of the negligence of so many people. For when we defeat them ten thousand times over on doctrine, they reproach us with the lives of the many who join our congregations, with their wounds and the diseases of their souls. How, then, can we confidently present you in battle formation, when you instead do us harm, immediately being wounded by our enemies and made a laughingstock? One man’s hand is diseased and shriveled, so that he cannot give anything away. How can such a man hold a shield, thrust it in front of him, and avoid being wounded by taunts about his cruelty? Others have a limp: all those who go to the theaters and the places where prostitutes gather. How will they be able to stand in battle without being wounded by the accusation of sexual immorality? Another suffers from damaged eyes, looking crookedly, full of lust, attacking women’s chastity and destroying marriages. How can this man look the enemy in the face, brandish a spear, and throw his javelin, when taunts stab him from every side? We can also see many whose bellies trouble them as much as those of people with edema, when gluttony and drunkenness hold them captive. How can I lead these drunken men into war? Others have rotten mouths: the hot-tempered, the abusive, and the blasphemers. How can such a man ever shout in battle and accomplish anything great and noble, when he too is drunk with another kind of drunkenness and gives the enemy so much to laugh at? That is why I go around this camp every day, dressing your wounds and healing your sores. But if you ever rouse yourselves and become fit even to wound others, I will teach you this art of war and show you how to handle these weapons. Or rather, your deeds themselves will be your weapons, and everyone will immediately submit if you become merciful, tolerant, gentle, and patient, and display every other virtue. But if anyone disputes this, then we will also add the proof we can offer on our side, bringing you forward, since at present we are instead held back in this race (at least as far as your contribution is concerned). And notice this. We say that Christ has done great things by making angels out of human beings. Then, when we are called on to give an account and required to provide proof from this flock, our mouths are shut. For I am afraid that instead of angels, I will bring out pigs as though from a sty, and horses mad with lust. I know you are hurt, but these things are not said against all of you, only against the guilty. Or rather, if they wake up, these things are said not even against them, but for their benefit. For now everything is lost and ruined, and the church has become no better than a stable for oxen and a pen for donkeys and camels. I go around looking for a sheep and cannot find one. Everyone kicks so much, like horses and wild donkeys, and they fill this place with piles of dung, for that is what their talk is like. Indeed, if you could see what men and women say at each gathering, you would see that their words are filthier than that dung. So I beg you to change this evil habit, so that the church may smell of ointment. But as things stand, while we store perfumes in it for the senses, we take little care to cleanse and drive away the filth of the mind. What good does that do? For bringing dung into the church would disgrace it less than we disgrace it by talking to one another about profits, merchandise, petty deals, and things that are no concern of ours. There should be choirs of angels here; we should make the church a heaven and occupy ourselves with nothing but earnest prayers and silent listening. Let us at least do this from now on, so that we may both purify our lives and receive the promised blessings, through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.