Homily 10 — Matthew 3, verses 1 to 6

“In those days John the Baptist comes, preaching in the wilderness of Judea, and saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’” [a]

How “in those days”? Surely not then, when he was a child and came to Nazareth. John comes thirty years later, as Luke also testifies. How, then, does it say “in those days”? Scripture regularly speaks this way, not only when it is mentioning what happens in the time immediately following, but also of things that were to happen many years later. Here is an example. His disciples came to him as he sat on the Mount of Olives, wanting to learn about his coming and about the capture of Jerusalem; and yet you know how great an interval lies between those two periods. What I mean is this: having spoken of the overthrow of the mother city and finished what he had to say about it, and being about to go on to the end of all things, he put in, “Then these things too will come to pass.” He was not joining the two times together by the word “then,” but only pointing to the time when these things were to happen. And he does the same kind of thing here, when he says, “In those days.” These words are not put here to mean the days immediately following, but the days in which the things he was preparing to tell about were to take place.

But someone may ask: “Why was it after thirty years that Jesus came to his baptism?” After this baptism he was from then on to do away with the law. That is why he goes on keeping all of it right up to this age, the age that is open to every sin, so that no one could say that he did away with the law because he himself could not keep it. For not all the passions attack us at every time. In the first stage of life there is much thoughtlessness and timidity; in the stage after it, pleasure is more violent; and after that again comes the desire for wealth. That is why he waits for the fullness of his adult age, keeps the law all the way through it, and so comes to his baptism, adding it as something that follows once all the other commandments have been completely kept.

To prove that this was the last of the good works the law required of him, listen to his own words: “For in this way it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” What he is saying amounts to this: “We have carried out all the duties of the law; we have not broken so much as one commandment. Since, then, only this remains, this too must be added, and so we will ‘fulfill all righteousness.’” For here he calls the full keeping of all the commandments by the name of “righteousness.”

So it is clear that this is why Christ came to his baptism. But why was this baptism devised for him? That the son of Zechariah did not take this up on his own, but because God moved him, Luke also makes plain when he says, “The word of the Lord came to him” — that is, his command. And John himself says, “The one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit coming down like a dove and remaining on him, he is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’” Why, then, was he sent to baptize? Again the Baptist himself makes this plain to us, saying, “I did not know him; but so that he might be revealed to Israel, that is why I came baptizing with water.” [d]

And if this was the only reason, how does Luke say that “he came into the country around the Jordan, preaching the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”? And yet that baptism did not carry forgiveness. This gift belonged to the baptism given afterward; for in that one “we are buried with him,” and our old self was crucified with him then. Before the cross, forgiveness appears nowhere; everywhere it is ascribed to his blood. Paul too says, “But you were washed, but you were made holy” — not by the baptism of John, but “in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the Spirit of our God.” And elsewhere he says, “John indeed preached a baptism of repentance” — he does not say “of forgiveness” — “that they should believe in the one who was coming after him.” For when the sacrifice had not yet been offered, when the Spirit had not yet come down, when sin had not been put away, nor the enmity removed, nor the curse destroyed, how was forgiveness to take place?

What, then, does “for the forgiveness of sins” mean?

The Jews were senseless. They never had any feeling for their own sins. Though they were rightly answerable for the worst evils, they were declaring themselves in the right on every point; and more than anything else, this was what ruined them and led them away from the faith. Paul himself, for instance, laid this to their charge when he said that “being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to the righteousness of God.” And again: “What, then, shall we say? That the Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have attained righteousness; but Israel, pursuing the law of righteousness, has not attained to the law of righteousness. Why? Because they did not seek it by faith, but as if by works.”

Since, then, this was the cause of their troubles, John comes doing nothing else but bringing them to a sense of their own sins. Among other things, his very clothing declared this, since it was the clothing of repentance and confession. What he preached pointed the same way, for he said nothing else but “Bear fruit worthy of repentance.” Their failure to condemn their own sins, as Paul has also explained, made them shy away from Christ, while coming to a sense of their sins would set them longing to seek their Redeemer and to desire forgiveness. This, then, is what John came to bring about. He came to persuade them to repent — not so that they would be punished, but so that, made humbler by repentance and condemning themselves, they would hurry to receive forgiveness.

But see how exactly he has put it. Having said that he “came preaching the baptism of repentance in the wilderness of Judea,” he adds, “for forgiveness.” It is as though he were saying: he urged them to confess their sins and repent of them for this purpose — not that they should be punished, but that they might more easily receive the forgiveness that was to come afterward. For if they had not condemned themselves, they could not have sought his grace; and not seeking it, they could not have obtained forgiveness.

So that baptism prepared the way for this one. That is why he also said, “that they should believe in the one who was coming after him,” setting out this further reason for his baptism alongside the one already mentioned. For it would not have done as much for John to go around to their houses, lead Christ about by the hand, and say, “Believe in this man,” as for that blessed voice to sound, and all those other things to be done in the presence and sight of everyone.

This is why he comes to the baptism. For both the reputation of the one who was baptizing and the nature of the thing itself were drawing the whole city and calling it out to the Jordan, and it became a great spectacle.

That is why, when they have come, he humbles them too, and persuades them to have no lofty ideas about themselves. He shows them that they are liable to the worst evils unless they repent, leave their forefathers and all boasting in them behind, and receive the one who was coming.

For up to that time the things concerning Christ had been kept hidden, and many thought he was dead because of the massacre that took place at Bethlehem. Although he did show himself at twelve years old, he quickly hid himself again. For this reason there was need of that splendid opening and of a loftier beginning. That is also why John then, for the first time, proclaims in a clear voice things the Jews had never heard, either from the prophets or from anyone else. He speaks of heaven, and of the kingdom there, and says nothing more about the earth.

But by “the kingdom” here he means both his first coming and his last.

But someone may say: “What is that to the Jews? They do not even know what you are saying.” John answers: “Why, that is exactly why I speak this way: so that the obscurity of my words will stir them up to go and seek the one I preach.” And in fact, when they came near, he so roused them with good hopes that even many tax collectors and soldiers asked what they should do and how they should order their lives. This was a sign that they were already being set free from all worldly things, that they were looking to other, greater things, and that they sensed in advance what was to come. Yes, everything at that time, both what they saw and what they heard, was leading them to lofty thoughts. [h]

Imagine, for example, what a thing it was to see a man coming down from the wilderness after thirty years — the son of a chief priest, a man who had never known the ordinary needs of human life, venerable in every way, and with Isaiah beside him. For Isaiah was there too, announcing him and saying: “This is the one I said would come crying out, preaching through the whole wilderness in a clear voice.” The prophets were so earnest about these things that they announced long in advance not only their own Lord, but also the one who was to serve him. And they mentioned not only him, but also the place where he was to live, the kind of teaching he was to give when he came, and the good that was brought about through him.

See, at any rate, how the prophet and the Baptist follow the same ideas, though not the same words. The prophet says that he will come saying, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” And John himself, when he had come, said, “Bear fruit worthy of repentance,” which corresponds to “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Do you see that both the prophet’s words and John’s own preaching make this one thing plain: that he had come to make a way and to prepare ahead — not to give the gift, which was forgiveness, but to set in order, in good time, the souls of those who were to receive the God of all?

But Luke puts it more fully. He does not quote the opening and then move on, but sets down the whole prophecy as well. “Every valley,” he says, “will be filled, and every mountain and hill will be brought low; and the crooked will be made straight, and the rough ways smooth; and all flesh will see the salvation of God.” Do you see how the prophet anticipated everything in his words, even the crowds flocking together? So when he says, “Every valley will be filled, and every mountain and hill will be brought low, and the rough ways will be made smooth,” he is pointing to the raising of the lowly, the humbling of the self-willed, and the hardship of the law changed into the ease of faith. For it is no longer toils and labors, he says, but grace and the forgiveness of sins, making salvation very easy.

Next he gives the reason for these things, saying, “All flesh will see the salvation of God” — no longer only Jews and converts to Judaism, but all the earth and sea, and the whole human race. For by “the crooked” he meant our whole corrupt life: tax collectors, prostitutes, robbers, sorcerers — all who had been twisted before and afterward walked in the right way. It is much as Christ himself also said, “Tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you,” because they believed.

And the prophet declared the very same thing in other words too, saying, “Then wolves and lambs will feed together.” Here, by the hills and valleys, he meant that clashing characters are blended into one and the same level ground of self-control. In the same way, there, by the natures of the wild animals, he pointed to people’s different dispositions and spoke again of their being joined in one and the same harmony of godliness. There too, as here, he gives the reason. That reason is: “There will be one who rises to rule over the Gentiles; in him the Gentiles will hope.” This is much the same as what he said here: “All flesh will see the salvation of God.” Everywhere he declares that the power and knowledge of these Gospels of ours would be poured out to the ends of the world, turning the human race from a brutish disposition and a fierce temper to something very gentle and mild.

“And John himself had clothing of camel’s hair, and a leather belt around his waist.” [k]

Notice how the prophets foretold some things and left others to the evangelists. That is why Matthew both sets down the prophecies and adds his own part, not thinking it unnecessary to speak even of the righteous man’s clothing.

For it was indeed a marvelous and strange thing to see such great austerity in a human body. This especially drew the Jews. They saw in him the great Elijah, and what they were seeing led them to remember that blessed man — or rather, to even greater astonishment. For Elijah was brought up in cities and in houses, while John lived entirely in the wilderness from his very infancy. It was fitting that the forerunner of the one who was to do away with all the ancient ills — the toil, for example, the curse, the sorrow, the sweat — should himself also bear some marks of that gift, and rise at once above that condemnation.

So he did not plow land or open a furrow; he did not eat his bread by the sweat of his face. His table was quickly supplied, his clothing still more easily than his table, and his lodging gave him even less trouble than his clothing. He needed no roof, no bed, no table, nor anything else of the kind; he showed a kind of angel’s life in this flesh of ours. That is why his very garment was of hair: so that by his clothing he might teach people to separate themselves from everything human, to have nothing in common with the earth, and to hurry back to their earlier nobility, the state Adam was in before he needed clothes or a robe. So that clothing was a sign of nothing less than a kingdom, and of repentance.

And do not say to me: “Where did he get a garment of hair and a belt, living as he did in the wilderness?” If you are going to make a difficulty of this, you will have to ask about many other things too: how he stayed on in the wilderness through the winters and through the summer heat, and with a delicate body, and at so young an age; how the nature of a child’s flesh endured such changeable weather, such an unusual diet, and all the other hardships of the wilderness.

Where now are the philosophers of the Greeks, who aimlessly and for nothing imitated the shamelessness of the Cynics? For what good is it to be shut up in a tub, and afterward to run into such excess? They are the ones who surrounded themselves with rings and cups, with menservants and maidservants and great pomp besides, falling into one extreme or the other. But John was not like that. He lived in the wilderness as if in heaven, displaying self-control in all its strictness. And from there, like an angel from heaven, he went down to the cities, a champion of godliness, a crowned victor over the world, a philosopher of the philosophy that is worthy of heaven. And all this was when sin had not yet been put away, when the law had not yet come to an end, when death was not yet bound, when the gates of bronze were not yet broken down, but while the old way of life was still in force.

Such is the nature of a noble and fully watchful soul: it is always leaping forward and going beyond the limits set for it, as Paul also did with respect to the new way of life.

But why, someone may ask, did he wear a belt with his clothing? This was the custom of people in the old days, before men went over to this soft, loose style of dress. So Peter, for example, appears to have gone “girded” with a belt, and Paul too, for Scripture says, “the man who owns this belt.” Elijah too was dressed this way, and every one of the saints, because they were always at work, toiling and busy either with journeys or with some other necessary task. And they did it not for this reason only, but also so as to trample on all finery and practice every kind of austerity. Christ, accordingly, declares this very thing to be the highest praise of virtue, saying, “What did you go out to see? A man dressed in soft clothing? Look, those who wear soft clothing are in kings’ houses.”

John was so pure, more glorious than heaven, above all the prophets — no one greater than he was ever born — and he had such great boldness of speech. Yet he trained himself in austerity like this, utterly scorning all loose softness and schooling himself in this hard life. If he did that, what excuse will we have? After so great a gift, and with the countless burdens of our sins, we do not show even the smallest part of his repentance. Instead we are drinking and gorging ourselves and smelling of perfumes, in no better state than the prostitutes of the stage, softening ourselves in every way and making ourselves easy prey for the devil.

“Then all Judea, and Jerusalem, and all the region around the Jordan went out to him, and they were baptized by him, confessing their sins.” [q]

Do you see how great the power of the prophet’s coming was? How he stirred up the whole people, how he led them to think about their own sins? It truly was a wonder to see a man in human form doing such things, speaking so freely, rising up to rebuke everyone as if they were children, with great grace shining from his face. Besides, the appearance of a prophet after so long an interval added to their amazement, because the gift had failed them and came back to them only after a long time. The nature of his preaching was strange and unusual too. They heard none of the things they were used to — wars and battles and victories here below, famine and plague, Babylonians and Persians, the capture of the city, and the other things familiar to them — but about heaven, the kingdom there, and the punishment in hell.

And this, I may add, is why the people were none the slower to go out there, even though those who had rebelled in the wilderness — the followers of Judas and of Theudas — had all been killed not long before. He was not summoning them for the same ends, for power or revolt or revolution, but to lead them by the hand to the kingdom above. That is also why he did not keep them in the wilderness to take them around with him. He baptized them, taught them the rules of self-denial, and sent them away, teaching them in every way to scorn everything on earth, to lift themselves up to the things to come, and to press on every day.

So let us imitate this man too. Let us leave luxury and drunkenness behind and go over to the life of self-control. For surely this is the time for confession, both for the uninitiated and for the baptized: for the first, so that after repenting they may share in the sacred mysteries; for the others, so that, having washed away the stain they took on after baptism, they may come to the table with a clean conscience. Let us, then, leave this soft and effeminate way of living. For it is not possible — it is not possible — to repent and to live in luxury at the same time. Let John teach you this by his clothing, by his food, by his dwelling. [r]

You may say: “What, then? Do you require us to practice self-control like this?” I do not require it; I advise it and recommend it. But if this is not possible for you, let us at least show repentance while living in the cities, for the judgment is surely at our doors. And even if it were further off, we still ought not to grow bold on that account; for the end of each person’s life is, for the one who is summoned, in effect the end of the world. But to see that it is even at the doors, hear Paul saying, “The night is far gone; the day is near”; and again, “The one who is coming will come, and will not delay.”

For the signs that announce that day are now complete as well. “This good news of the kingdom,” he says, “will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come.” Pay careful attention to what is said. He did not say, “when it has been believed by everyone,” but “when it has been preached to everyone.” That is why he also said, “as a witness to the nations”: to show that he does not wait for everyone to believe before he comes. For the phrase “as a witness” means this: “as an accusation,” “as a reproof,” “as a condemnation of those who have not believed.”

But we hear these things and see them, and still we doze and dream, sunk in a stupor as if in the very deepest night. For present things are no better than dreams, whether they are prosperous or painful. So I beg you, now at last, wake up, and look another way — toward the Sun of Righteousness. No one who is asleep can see the sun or delight his eyes with the beauty of its rays; whatever he sees, he sees as in a dream. That is why we need much repentance and many tears: both because we are numb while we go astray, and because our sins are great and beyond excuse. And that I am not lying, most of those who hear me are witnesses. Still, though our sins are beyond excuse, let us repent, and we will receive crowns.

But by repentance I mean not only leaving our former evil deeds behind, but also showing good deeds greater than those. “Bear fruit,” he says, “worthy of repentance.” But how will we bear it? By doing the opposite things. Have you seized other people’s goods by force? From now on, give away even your own. Have you lived in sexual immorality for a long time? Then abstain even from your own wife for certain set days; practice self-control. Have you insulted and struck people as they passed by? From now on, bless those who insult you, and do good to those who strike you. For it is not enough for our healing to have pulled out the arrow; we must also put remedies on the wound. Have you lived in self-indulgence and been a drunkard in the past? Fast, and make a point of drinking water, to destroy the damage that has grown up in you. Have you looked with unchaste eyes at a beauty that belonged to another? From now on, do not even look at a woman at all, so that you may stand in greater safety. [t]

For it is said, “Turn away from evil, and do good”; and again, “Stop your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deceit.” “But tell me the good too.” “Seek peace, and pursue it” — I mean not peace with people only, but also peace with God. And he did well to say “pursue” her, for she has been driven off and thrown out; she has left the earth and gone to live as a stranger in heaven. Yet we will be able to bring her back again, if we are willing to put away pride and boasting and whatever else stands in her way, and to follow this moderate and simple life.

For nothing is more grievous than wrath and fierce anger. It makes people both puffed up and servile — ridiculous by the first, hateful by the second — bringing in opposite vices at the same time, pride and flattery. But if we cut off the greed of this passion, we will be both truly humble and safely exalted. For in our bodies too all illnesses arise from excess. When the body’s elements leave their proper limits and go beyond moderation, then all these countless diseases arise, and painful kinds of death. One may see something of the same kind happen with the soul as well.

So let us cut away excess. Let us drink the healing medicine of moderation, keep to our proper balance, and give careful attention to our prayers. Even if we do not receive, let us persevere so that we may receive; and if we do receive, let us persevere because we have received. For it is not at all his wish to put off giving; by such delay he is arranging for us to persevere. With this aim he also draws out our asking, and at times lets a trial come on us, so that we will keep fleeing to him for refuge and, once we have fled to him, stay there. [u]

Affectionate fathers do the same, and so do mothers who love their children. When they see their little ones leave them to play with children their own age, they have their servants act out many frightening things, so that fear may drive the children to run for refuge to their mother’s arms. In the same way God often holds out some threat — not to bring it on us, but to draw us to himself. At any rate, when we come back, he takes away our fear at once. For certainly, if we were the same in our trials as in our times of ease, there would have been no need of trials.

But why do I speak of us? Even for those saints of old, great was the lesson of this: “It is good for me that you have humbled me.” And Christ himself said to the apostles, “In the world you will have trouble.” And Paul points to this very thing when he says, “There was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to strike me.” That is why, when he asked to be set free from the trial, he did not obtain it, because of the great benefit that came from it. And if we go through the whole life of David, we will find him most glorious in his dangers — him and all the others like him. This is how Job shone out all the more brightly in that time of his; this is how Joseph too became the more approved, and Jacob as well, and his father, and his father’s father. All those who ever put on crowns of special glory first won their crowns by troubles and trials, and only then had their names proclaimed.

Knowing all this, then, let us, as the wise saying goes, “not be in a hurry in a time of trouble.” Let us teach ourselves one thing only: how to bear everything nobly, without prying or being curious about anything that happens. For to know when our troubles will end belongs to God, who allows them to come on us; but to bear them with full thanksgiving when they come — that is the work of a good disposition on our part. And if that is so, every blessing will follow. So that these may follow, and that we may be better approved here and more glorious in the world to come, let us accept everything that may be brought on us, thanking him for everything — him who knows what is good for us better than we do, and loves us more warmly than those who gave us birth. Let these two thoughts be a charm we sing over ourselves in every terror that comes, so that we may quiet our discouragement and in all things glorify the one who does and arranges everything on our behalf, God himself.

For in this way we will easily drive back every hostile scheme and win the crowns that never decay, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, power, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.