Homilies on Matthew, Homily 9

“Then Herod, when he saw that the wise men had mocked him, was extremely angry.” Yet surely this called for fear and awe, not anger: he should have realized that he was attempting the impossible. But he is not held back. For when a soul is unfeeling and incurable, it responds to none of the medicines God gives it. Look at this man, for example, pressing on with his earlier efforts, adding many murders to one, and rushing headlong down the slope, wherever it leads. Driven wild by this anger and envy, as though by some demon, he considers nothing, but rages even against nature herself. He vents his anger at the wise men who mocked him on children who had done nothing wrong, daring to commit a deed in Palestine like those committed in Egypt. For he “sent out,” it says, “and killed all the children in Bethlehem and in all its surrounding territory, two years old and under, according to the time he had carefully determined from the wise men.” Now listen carefully to me. Many people say very foolish things about these children, and accuse the course of events of being unjust. Some express their confusion about it more moderately, while others speak with greater arrogance and frenzy. So, to free the latter from their madness and the former from their confusion, allow us to discuss this subject a little. Clearly, if their accusation is that the children were left to be killed, they should also find fault with the slaughter of the soldiers who guarded Peter. For just as here, when the young Child had escaped, other children were massacred in place of Him who was being sought, so there too, after the angel had freed Peter from his prison and chains, a man with the same name and the same temper as this tyrant searched for Peter, failed to find him, and killed Peter's guards instead of Peter. “But what is this?” someone may say. “This doesn't solve our difficulty; it makes it greater.” I know that too, and I bring forward all these cases precisely so that I can offer one and the same answer to them all. What, then, is the answer to these things? What reasonable explanation can we give? That Christ did not cause their slaughter; the king's cruelty did. In the same way, Peter did not cause the deaths of those others; Herod's madness did. For if he had seen the wall broken through or the doors knocked down, he might perhaps have had grounds to accuse the soldiers guarding the apostle of negligence. But as it was, everything remained in its proper state, the doors had been thrown wide open, and the chains were fastened to the hands of his guards (for they were in fact chained to him). From these things he could have concluded (if he had been properly doing a judge's work in examining the case before him) that this event was the work of no human power or cunning, but of some divine, miracle-working power. He could have worshiped the One who did these things instead of waging war against the guards. For God had arranged everything He did so that, far from putting the guards in danger, He was using them to lead the king to the truth. But if the king proved senseless, what does the sick man's refusal to obey have to do with the skill of the Physician of Souls, who arranges everything for good? And we can say exactly the same thing in the present case. For why are you angry, Herod, at being mocked by the wise men? Didn't you know that the birth was divine? Didn't you summon the chief priests? Didn't you gather the scribes? When they were called, didn't they bring the prophet with them into your court of judgment, proclaiming these things beforehand from ancient times? Didn't you see how the old things agreed with the new? Didn't you hear that a star also served these men? Didn't you respect the zeal of the barbarians? Didn't you marvel at their boldness? Weren't you struck with awe at the truth of the prophet's words? Didn't you recognize the final outcome from what had already happened? Why didn't you reason from all these things that this event came about through no cunning of the wise men, but through a Divine Power arranging everything as it should? And even if the wise men deceived you, what does that have to do with the young children, who have done nothing wrong? 2. “Yes,” someone says, “you have thoroughly stripped Herod of any excuse and proved him bloodthirsty; but you still haven't answered the question about the injustice of what happened. For if he acted unjustly, why did God allow it?” Now, what should we say to this? What I never stop saying in church, in the marketplace, and everywhere, and what I also want you to keep carefully in mind, since it is a kind of rule for us that applies to every difficulty like this. What, then, is our rule, and what do we say? That although many people inflict harm, not even one person is harmed. And so that this riddle doesn't trouble you too much, I will immediately add the explanation. I mean that whatever we unjustly suffer at anyone's hands serves either to take away our sins, as God credits that wrong to our account, or to bring us rewards. To make what I am saying clearer, let us use an illustration. Suppose a servant owes his master a great deal of money, and unjust men then mistreat this servant and rob him of some of his property. Now suppose the master, who had the power to stop the plunderer and wrongdoer, does not restore that very property, but counts what was taken toward the debt his servant owes him. Is the servant harmed, then? Certainly not. But what if the master repays him even more? Hasn't he then gained more than he lost? Everyone, I suppose, can see that. We should make this same calculation about our own sufferings. For proof that, in return for what we suffer unjustly, we either have sins taken away or receive more glorious crowns if our sins are not so great, listen to what Paul says about the man who was guilty of sexual immorality: “Hand such a man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that the spirit may be saved.” “But what is this?” you may say. “We were talking about people who are wronged by others, not people who are disciplined by their teachers.” I could answer that there is no difference, since the question was whether suffering evil disgraces the person who suffers. But to bring my argument closer to the precise point at issue, remember David. Once, when he saw Shimei attacking him, trampling on him in his misery, and pouring out endless insults against him, his commanders wanted to kill Shimei. But David absolutely forbade them, saying, “Let him curse, so that the Lord may look on my humiliation and repay me with good for this cursing today.” And when he sang in the Psalms, he also said, “Consider my enemies, for they have multiplied, and they hate me with unjust hatred,” and “forgive all my sins.” Lazarus, too, enjoyed forgiveness for the same reason, having suffered countless evils in this life. So those who are wronged are not harmed if they bear all their sufferings nobly. Indeed, they gain all the more, whether they are struck by God or scourged by the devil. 3. “But what sin had these children committed,” someone may say, “that they needed to have it taken away? You might reasonably say this about adults who have been guilty of many failures, but what kinds of sins did these children, who died so prematurely, have taken away through their sufferings?” Didn't you hear me say that even if there are no sins, rewards await those who suffer evil here? How, then, were the young children harmed by being killed for such a cause and quickly carried away into that harbor without waves? “Because,” you say, “in many cases they would have done many great and good deeds if they had lived.” Why, for this very reason He stores up no small reward for them in advance: because their lives ended for such a cause. Besides, if the children were going to become great people, He would not have allowed them to be snatched away beforehand. For if He so patiently puts up with those who will go on living in continual wickedness, He would much less have allowed these children to be taken away like this if He had foreknown that they would accomplish great things. These are the reasons we can give, yet they are not all the reasons. There are others, more mysterious than these, which He who orders these things knows perfectly. So let us leave the fuller understanding of this matter to Him, turn to what follows, and learn from the calamities of others to bear everything nobly. For the scene of misery that then came upon Bethlehem was no small thing: children were snatched from their mothers' breasts and dragged away to this unjust slaughter. And if you are still fainthearted and unable to control yourself over these things, learn how the man who dared to do all this met his end, and regain some composure. For punishment for these deeds overtook him very quickly. He paid the penalty his abominable act deserved, ending his life with a terrible death, more pitiable than the one he now dared to inflict. He also suffered countless other evils, which you can learn about by reading Josephus's account of these events. But to avoid making our discussion too long and interrupting its flow, we have not thought it necessary to insert that account here. 4. “Then what was spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled: In Ramah a voice was heard, Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be comforted, because they are no more.” After filling his listener with horror by telling of these things—the slaughter so violent and unjust, so utterly cruel and lawless—he comforts him again by saying that none of this happened because God lacked the power to prevent it, or because He did not know about it. It happened with His knowledge, and He foretold it, loudly, through His prophet. So do not be troubled or lose heart, but look to His indescribable providence, which we can see most clearly both in what He does and in what He allows. He indicated this elsewhere too, when speaking to His disciples. I mean the passage where, after warning them about courts of judgment, executions, the wars of the world, and the battle that knows no truce, He encourages and comforts them by saying, “Aren't two sparrows sold for an assarion? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father who is in Heaven.” He said these things to show that nothing happens without His knowledge, but that although He knows everything, He does not intervene in everything. “So do not be troubled,” He says, “or disturbed.” For if He knows what you suffer and has the power to prevent it, it is perfectly clear that His providence and care for you are the reason He does not prevent it. We should keep this in mind in our own trials too, and we will draw great comfort from it. But what, someone may ask, does Rachel have to do with Bethlehem? For it says, “Rachel weeping for her children.” And what does Ramah have to do with Rachel? Rachel was Benjamin's mother, and when she died they buried her at the racetrack near this place. Since her tomb was nearby, and the territory belonged to her infant Benjamin (for Ramah belonged to the tribe of Benjamin), He naturally calls the young children who were massacred hers, first because of the ancestor of the tribe, and then because of the place where she was buried. Then, to show that the wound she suffered was cruel and could not be healed, He says, “she would not be comforted, because they are no more.” Here again we learn what I mentioned before: never to be bewildered when what happens is contrary to God's promise. Look, for example, at how things began when He came for the salvation of the people—or rather, for the salvation of the world. First, His mother flees; His birthplace is engulfed in calamities that cannot be remedied; the bitterest of all murders is committed; and there is lamentation, great mourning, and wailing everywhere. But do not be troubled, for He always accomplishes His purposes through their opposites, giving us in this way a very great demonstration of His power. This is also how He led His own disciples and prepared them to do their whole duty, bringing things about through their opposites so that the wonder would be greater. At any rate, it was by being scourged and persecuted and suffering endless terrors that they overcame those who beat and persecuted them. 5. “But when Herod was dead, look, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, Get up, take the young Child and His mother, and go into the land of Israel.” He no longer says “flee,” but “go.” Do you see again how relief follows the trial, and then danger follows the relief? Joseph was freed from his exile and returned to his own country, and saw the murderer of the children himself brought to slaughter. But when he set foot in his own country, he again found a remnant of the earlier dangers: the tyrant's son was alive and reigning as king. But how did Archelaus reign over Judea when Pontius Pilate was governor? Herod had recently died, and the kingdom had not yet been divided into many parts. Since he had only just died, his son held the kingdom for a while “in place of his father Herod.” His brother also bore this name, which is why the evangelist added, “in place of his father Herod.” Someone may say, however, “If he was afraid to settle in Judea because of Archelaus, he also had reason to fear Galilee because of Herod.” I answer that by moving to a different place, he kept the whole matter out of sight from then on, since the entire attack had been directed against “Bethlehem and its surrounding territory.” So now that the slaughter had taken place, the young Archelaus simply assumed that the whole affair was over, and that the One being sought had been killed among the many. Besides, having seen his father come to such an end, he became more cautious from then on about taking further action and pressing on along that course of wickedness. So Joseph comes to Nazareth, partly to avoid the danger and partly because he is glad to live in his native place. To give him greater courage, he also receives a message from the angel about this. Luke, however, does not say that he went there because of a Divine warning, but that when they had completed everything required for purification, they returned to Nazareth. What, then, can we say? That when Luke says these things, he is describing the time before they went down to Egypt. For He would not have brought them down there before the purification, so that nothing would be done contrary to the law. Instead, he waited for her to be purified and to go to Nazareth, and then for them to go down to Egypt. Then, after their return, He tells them to go to Nazareth. Before this, however, God had not warned them to go there; they went of their own accord because they longed for their native place. For since they had gone up only because of the census, and did not even have a place to stay, they went down to Nazareth once they had completed what they had come up to do. 6. Here we see why the angel also sends them back to their home, setting their minds at ease about the future. And he does more than this: he adds a prophecy, saying, “So that what was spoken by the prophets might be fulfilled: He will be called a Nazarene.” And what prophet said this? Do not pry or busy yourself too much with this question. For many of the prophetic writings have been lost, as you can see from the history in Chronicles. Through their negligence and continual lapses into ungodliness, they allowed some writings to perish, while others they themselves burned and cut to pieces. Jeremiah tells of the latter; the author of the fourth book of Kings tells of the former, saying that after a long time the book of Deuteronomy was found only with difficulty, buried somewhere and lost. But if they treated their books so carelessly when no barbarians were there, how much more would they have done so when the barbarians had overrun them? As for the fact that the prophet had foretold it, the apostles themselves call Him a Nazarene in many places. “Didn't this,” someone may say, “cast doubt on the prophecy about Bethlehem?” Certainly not. This very fact was bound to stir people deeply and awaken them to investigate what had been said about Him. Thus Nathanael, for example, begins his inquiry about Him by saying, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” For the place was held in low esteem—or rather, not just that place, but the whole region of Galilee. That is why the Pharisees said, “Search and see, for no prophet arises out of Galilee.” Nevertheless, He is not ashamed to take His name even from there, showing that He needs none of the things people value. He also chooses His disciples from Galilee, everywhere removing the excuses of those inclined to neglect their duties and showing that we have no need of external advantages if we practice virtue. This is why He does not choose even a house for Himself, for “the Son of Man,” He says, “has nowhere to lay His head.” When Herod plots against Him, He flees; at His birth He is laid in a manger and stays in an inn; and He takes a mother of low social standing. He teaches us to consider none of these things a disgrace, trampling human pride underfoot from the very beginning and commanding us to devote ourselves to virtue alone. 7. For why do you pride yourself on your country when I command you to be a stranger to the whole world? (This is how He speaks.) Why, when you have the opportunity to become someone of whom the whole universe is unworthy? For these things are so utterly contemptible that even the Greek philosophers consider them unworthy of any attention, call them Externals, and put them in the lowest place. “But Paul,” someone may say, “allows them when he says, ‘As for election, they are beloved for their fathers' sake.’” But tell me, when was he speaking, about what, and to whom? He was speaking to people of Gentile origin who were becoming proud of their faith, exalting themselves over the Jews and so driving them still further away. He meant to subdue the swelling pride of the one group, win over the other, and fully stir them to the same eager pursuit. For when he speaks about those noble and great men, listen to what he says: “Those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country. And truly, if they had kept in mind the country they had left, they would have had an opportunity to return; but now they desire another, a better country.” And again, “All these died in faith, without having obtained the promises, but having seen them from far away and embraced them.” John too said to those who came to him, “Do not think of saying, We have Abraham as our father.” And Paul again, “For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel; nor are the children of the flesh the children of God.” For tell me, what advantage did Samuel's sons gain from their father's nobility when they did not inherit his virtue? And what benefit did Moses' sons gain, since they did not imitate his strictness? That is why they did not inherit his authority. Though they listed him as their father, leadership of the people passed to another, to the man who had become his son through virtue. And what harm did Timothy suffer because his father was Greek? Or, on the other hand, what benefit did Noah's son gain from his father's virtue when he became a slave instead of remaining free? Do you see how little a father's nobility can do to advance his children? For the wickedness of Ham's character overcame the laws of nature and stripped him not only of the nobility he had through his father, but also of his freedom. And what about Esau? Wasn't he Isaac's son, and didn't he have his father to support him? Yes, his father tried and wanted to give him a share in the blessings, and Esau himself did everything he was commanded for this purpose. Nevertheless, because he was perverse, none of these things benefited him. Although he was first by birth and had his father on his side doing everything toward this goal, he did not have God with him, and so he lost everything. But why do I speak of human beings? The Jews were sons of God and gained nothing from this high birth. Now if someone who has become a son of God fails to display excellence worthy of this noble birth and is punished all the more for it, why do you bring up the nobility of distant or recent ancestors? For this rule held not only under the old covenant; we can find it under the new as well. For “to all who received Him,” it says, “He gave power to become sons of God.” And yet Paul declared that many of these children gained no benefit from their father: “For if you are circumcised,” he says, “Christ will be of no benefit to you.” And if Christ is no help to those who will not pay attention to themselves, how can a human being stand up for them? 8. So let us take pride neither in high birth nor in wealth, but instead despise those who think this way; and let us not be discouraged by poverty. Let us seek the wealth that consists in good works, and flee the poverty that leaves people in wickedness. This was the poverty that made that rich man poor, so that he did not have even a drop of water at his command, although he pleaded earnestly. Yet who among us can be so poor as to lack even enough water for comfort? There is no one like that. For even those wasting away from extreme hunger can have the comfort of a drop of water, and not just a drop, but far more abundant refreshment. It was not so with that rich man: he was poor even to this degree. And what was still more painful, he could not find relief from his poverty anywhere. Why, then, do we crave riches, since they do not bring us into Heaven? For tell me, if any earthly king had said, “A rich man cannot gain distinction at court or enjoy any honor,” wouldn't each of you have thrown away his riches with contempt? So if they exclude us from honor in earthly palaces, we would consider them utterly contemptible. But when the King of Heaven cries out day after day, “It is hard to set foot on that sacred threshold with them,” won't we give up everything and let go of our possessions so that we can enter the kingdom boldly? And what leniency do we deserve when we take such pains to surround ourselves with things that block our way there, and hide them not only in chests but even in the earth, when we could entrust them to the safekeeping of Heaven itself? Surely you are acting just like a farmer who has acquired wheat to sow in fertile land, but leaves the land alone and buries all the wheat in a pit, so that he neither enjoys it himself nor lets it produce anything, but allows it to rot and go to waste. But what is their usual excuse when we accuse them of these things? “It gives us great comfort,” they say, “to know that everything is safely stored at home for us.” No, the comfort would be in not knowing of any such store. For even if you do not fear famine, this stockpile must make you fear other, more terrible things: deaths, wars, and plots against you. And if a famine should ever strike us, the people, driven by hunger, will take up arms against your house. Or rather, by doing this you are first bringing famine into our cities, and then opening up for your own household this abyss, more terrible than famine. For I know of no one who has met a swift end through the pressure of famine, since many remedies can in fact be devised in many places to ease that evil. But I can point to many who have been ruined by possessions, riches, and the pursuits connected with them, some secretly and some openly. The highways, the courts of law, and the marketplaces are full of such examples. But why do I speak of highways, courts of law, and marketplaces? You can see even the sea filled with their blood. For this tyranny, it seems, has prevailed not only over the land, but has also paraded over the ocean in a festival of great excess. One person sails for gold, while another is stabbed for it; the same tyrannical power has made one a merchant and the other a murderer. What, then, can be less trustworthy than Mammon, when for his sake people travel, take risks, and are killed? “But who,” it says, “will pity a snake charmer bitten by a serpent?” For we ought to recognize his cruel tyranny, flee that slavery, and destroy that terrible longing. “But how,” someone says, “is this possible?” By introducing another longing: the longing for Heaven. For whoever desires the kingdom will laugh at greed with contempt. Whoever has become Christ's slave is no slave of mammon, but rather his master. For mammon tends to follow the person who flees from him and flee from the person who pursues him. He honors the person who despises him more than the person who pursues him. He laughs at no one with greater contempt than those who desire him; and he not only laughs at them with contempt, but also wraps them in countless chains. So let us break these terrible chains, however late it may be. Why enslave your rational soul to unthinking matter, the mother of those countless evils? But what absurdity! While we wage war against it with words, it wages war against us with deeds, leading and dragging us everywhere, treating us with contempt as slaves bought with money and fit for the whip. What could be more disgraceful and dishonorable than this? Again, if we cannot overcome lifeless forms of matter, how will we overcome the powers without bodies? If we do not despise worthless earth and lowly stones, how will we bring the principalities and authorities into subjection? How will we practice self-control? I mean, if silver dazzles and overpowers us, when will we be able to hurry past a beautiful face? In fact, some people are so thoroughly sold into this tyranny that even the mere sight of gold somehow stirs them, and they jokingly say that their very eyes are better for seeing a gold coin. But whoever you are, do not make such jokes, for nothing harms the eyes, both of the body and of the soul, as much as the lust for these things. For example, it was this terrible longing that put out those virgins' lamps and cast them out of the bridal chamber. This sight, which, as you said, “does the eyes good,” kept the wretched Judas from listening to the Lord's voice, led him even to the noose, made him burst apart in the middle, and after all that, brought him to hell. What, then, could be more lawless than this? What could be more horrible? I do not mean wealth itself, but the inappropriate and frantic desire for it. Why, it even drips human blood, has murder in its eyes, and is fiercer than any wild beast, tearing apart those who fall in its path. And what is much worse, it does not even let them realize that they are being mangled like this. For reason would demand that people treated this way reach out their hands to passersby and call for help. But these people are actually grateful for their flesh being torn apart. What could be more miserable than that? So, keeping all these things in mind, let us flee this incurable disease, heal the wounds it has made, and remove ourselves from such a plague, so that we may both live a safe and untroubled life here and attain the treasure to come. May God grant that we all attain it through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ. With Him, may the Father together with the Holy Spirit receive glory, might, and honor, now and forever, and for all eternity. Amen.