Homily 24 — John 2, verse 23, to 3, verse 4

“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover, at the feast, many believed in him.” [a]

Of the people of that time, some clung to their error and others took hold of the truth; and of these last, some held on to it for a little while and then fell away from it again. Christ was hinting at these when he compared them to seeds that were not sown deep but had their roots on the surface of the ground, and he said that they would quickly die. These are the people the evangelist points out to us here when he says, “When he was in Jerusalem, at the Passover, at the feast, many believed in him when they saw the miracles that he did.”

Verse 24: “But Jesus did not entrust himself to them.”

For the more mature of his disciples were those who came to him not only because of his miracles but also through his teaching. The miracles drew the coarser sort; his prophecies and his teaching drew those who reasoned better. And so those who were won by his teaching were more steadfast than those drawn by his miracles. Christ also called these “blessed,” saying, “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed” (John 20, verse 29). But the passage that follows shows that the people mentioned here were not real disciples, for it says, “Jesus did not entrust himself to them.” Why not?

“Because he knew all things,” and verse 25: “and he did not need anyone to testify about man, for he knew what was in man.”

The meaning is something like this. He who lives in people’s hearts and enters into their thoughts paid no attention to their outward words. He knew well that their warmth would last only for a season, so he did not trust them as he would mature disciples, nor did he entrust all his teaching to them as though they had already become firm believers. Now, to know what is in the human heart belongs to God alone, “who has fashioned hearts one by one” (Psalm 33, verse 15, in the Greek Old Testament). As Solomon says, “You, you alone, know the hearts” (First Kings 8, verse 39). So he did not need witnesses to learn the thoughts of his own creatures, and for that reason he placed no trust in them because of their bare, passing belief.

People, who know neither the present nor the future, often tell everything and entrust everything without any reserve to those who come to them deceitfully and will soon fall away from them. But Christ did not do so, for he knew all their secret thoughts well. And there are many like that now, who carry the name of faith but are unstable and easily led astray. That is why even now Christ does not entrust himself to them but hides many things from them. Just as we do not confide in mere acquaintances but in real friends, so it is with Christ too. Listen to what he says to his disciples: “From now on I do not call you servants; you are my friends” (John 15, verses 14 and 15). How so, and why? “Because everything that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.”

And that is why he gave no signs to the Jews who asked for them: they were asking in order to test him. Indeed, asking for signs is the habit of people who put God to the test, then and now alike. For even now there are some who look for them and say, “Why don’t miracles happen in our own time too?” If you are a believer as you ought to be, and love Christ as you ought to love him, you have no need of signs. Signs are given to unbelievers.

“Then why,” someone asks, “were they not given to the Jews?” They certainly were given. And if there were times when they asked and did not receive them, it was because they asked not in order to be set free from their unbelief, but to strengthen their wickedness all the more.

Chapter 3, verses 1 and 2: “There was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus. This man came to Jesus by night.”

This man appears again in the middle of the Gospel, speaking in Christ’s defense. For he says, “Our law does not judge anyone before it hears him” (John 7, verse 51), and the Jews answered him angrily, “Search and see: no prophet arises out of Galilee.” Again, after the crucifixion, he took great care over the burial of the Lord’s body. “Nicodemus also came,” says the evangelist, “the one who had come to the Lord by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about seventy-five pounds” (John 19, verse 39).

Even now he was well disposed toward Christ, but not as he should have been, nor with the right thoughts about him, for he was still entangled in Jewish weakness. That is why he came by night: he was afraid to come by day. Yet the merciful God did not reject him for this, or rebuke him, or deprive him of his teaching. With great kindness he talked with him and disclosed to him very lofty teachings. He did it in riddles, it is true, but still he disclosed them. For Nicodemus deserved pardon far more than those who acted this way out of wickedness. They have no excuse at all; but he, though he was open to blame, was not to the same degree.

“Then why does the evangelist say nothing of the kind about him?” He has said elsewhere that “many of the rulers too believed in him, but because of the Jews they did not confess him, for fear of being put out of the synagogue” (John 12, verse 42). Here he has implied it all by mentioning that Nicodemus came “by night.” What, then, does Nicodemus say?

“Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do the miracles that you do unless God is with him.”

Nicodemus still lingers down below. He still has human thoughts about him and speaks of him as of a prophet, imagining nothing great from his miracles. “We know,” he says, “that you are a teacher come from God.” [e]

“Then why do you come by night and in secret to the one who speaks the things of God, to the one who comes from God? Why do you not talk with him openly?” But Jesus said nothing like this to him, nor did he rebuke him. For the prophet says, “A bruised reed he will not break, and smoldering flax he will not quench; he will not quarrel or cry out” (Isaiah 42, verses 2 and 3, as quoted in Matthew 12, verses 19 and 20). And again he says himself, “I did not come to condemn the world, but to save the world” (John 12, verse 47).

“No one can do these miracles unless God is with him.”

Here Nicodemus still speaks like the heretics, saying that he has a power working within him, and that he needs the help of others to do what he did. What, then, does Christ say? Notice how far he stoops down to meet him. For a while he held back from saying:

“I do not need the help of others. I do everything with power, for I am the true Son of God, and I have the same power as my Father.” He held back because this would have been too hard for his hearer. For I say now what I am always saying: what Christ wanted, for a while, was not so much to reveal his own dignity as to persuade people that he did nothing contrary to his Father. That is why in many places he appears to hold himself within limits in his words, but in his actions he does not do so. When he works a miracle, he does everything with power, saying, “I will it; be clean” (Matthew 8, verse 3); “Talitha, arise” (Mark 5, verse 41, not quoted word for word); “Stretch out your hand” (Mark 3, verse 5); “Your sins are forgiven you” (Matthew 9, verse 2); “Peace, be still” (Mark 4, verse 39); “Pick up your bed and go to your house” (Matthew 9, verse 6); “You foul spirit, I tell you, come out of him” (Mark 9, verse 25, not quoted word for word); “Let it be done for you as you wish” (Matthew 15, verse 28); “If anyone says anything to you, you will say, ‘The Lord needs him’” (Mark 11, verse 3); “Today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23, verse 43); “You have heard that it was said to the people of old, ‘You shall not kill’; but I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause will be liable to judgment” (Matthew 5, verses 21 and 22); “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mark 1, verse 17).

Everywhere we see that his authority is great, for in his actions no one could find fault with what was done. How could they? If his words had not come to pass, and had not been carried out as he commanded, anyone might have said they were the orders of a madman. But since they did come to pass, the fact of their fulfillment shut people’s mouths even against their will. With his sayings, though, they could often insolently accuse him of madness. That is why, in the case of Nicodemus, he now says nothing openly, but by dark sayings leads him up from his low thoughts, teaching him that he has in himself power enough to work miracles; for his Father begot him complete and fully sufficient, without any lack.

But let us see how he does this. Nicodemus says, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do the miracles that you do unless God is with him.” He thought he had said something great when he spoke this way about Christ. What, then, does Christ say? He wants to show that Nicodemus had not yet set foot even on the threshold of right knowledge, nor stood in the porch, but was still wandering somewhere outside the palace, he and anyone else who says the same; and that he had not so much as glanced toward true knowledge while he held such an opinion of the only Son. What does he say?

Verse 3: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a man is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

That is:

“Unless you are born again and receive the right teaching, you are wandering somewhere outside, and are far from the kingdom of heaven.” But he does not speak as plainly as this. To make the saying less hard to bear, he does not aim it directly at him, but speaks in general terms, “Unless a man is born again” — all but saying, “You, and anyone else who holds such opinions about me, are somewhere outside the kingdom.” If he had not been speaking in order to establish this, his answer would have matched what Nicodemus had said. Now if these words had been spoken to the Jews, they would have laughed at him and gone away; but Nicodemus shows here too his desire to be taught.

And this is why in many places Christ speaks obscurely: he wants to rouse his hearers to ask questions and make them more attentive. What is said plainly often slips past the hearer, but what is obscure makes him more active and eager. What he is saying is something like this:

“If you are not born again, if you do not share in the Spirit who is given through the washing of new birth, you cannot have a right opinion of me. The opinion you have is not spiritual, but of the flesh” (Titus 3, verse 5). But he did not speak this way, because he did not want to put to shame a man who had brought what he had, and had spoken as well as he could. Without the man suspecting it, he leads him up to greater knowledge, saying, “Unless a man is born again.” Some take the word “again” here to mean “from heaven,” others “from the beginning.” “It is impossible,” says Christ, “for anyone not born this way to see the kingdom of God.” In this he is pointing to himself, and declaring that there is another kind of sight besides the natural one, and that we need other eyes to see Christ.

Verse 4: when he had heard this, “Nicodemus says, ‘How can a man be born when he is old?’”

You call him Teacher, you say he has “come from God,” and still you do not accept his words? Do you speak to your Teacher in words that show such perplexity? For “How?” is the doubting question of those who have no strong belief and are still of the earth. That is why Sarah laughed when she had said “How?” And many others, having asked this question, have fallen from the faith.

And so heretics remain in their heresy, because they keep asking this question. Some of them say, “How was he begotten?” others, “How did he become flesh?” and so they subject that infinite essence to the weakness of their own reasoning. Knowing this, we ought to shun this ill-timed curiosity, for those who search into these matters will not learn the “how,” and will fall away from the right faith besides. [j]

That is why Nicodemus, in his doubt, asks how this can be; for he understood that the words were aimed at himself. He is confused, dizzy, perplexed. He had come as though to a man, and he was hearing more than human words, words such as no one had ever heard before. For a while he is roused by the loftiness of what was said, but he is still in the dark and unsteady, carried about in every direction and continually falling away from faith. And so he keeps insisting that the thing is impossible, in order to draw Christ on to clearer teaching.

“Can a man,” he says, “enter into his mother’s womb and be born?” Do you see how, when someone hands spiritual things over to his own reasoning, he talks nonsense and seems to be joking or drunk — when he pries into what has been said further than God sees fit, and will not accept the submission that faith requires? Nicodemus heard of the spiritual birth, yet he did not take it as spiritual. He dragged the words down to the lowness of the flesh, and made so great and lofty a teaching depend on the ordinary course of nature. And so he invents trifles and ridiculous difficulties. That is why Paul said, “The unspiritual man does not receive the things of the Spirit” (First Corinthians 2, verse 14).

Yet even so he kept his reverence for Christ. He did not mock what had been said; he thought it impossible and held his peace. There were two difficulties: a birth of this kind, and the kingdom. For neither the name of the kingdom nor a birth like this had ever been heard of among the Jews. But he stops for the moment at the first, which astonished his mind most.

Knowing this, then, let us not inquire into the things of God by reasoning. Let us not bring heavenly matters under the rule of earthly cause and effect, or subject them to the necessity of nature. Let us think of all of them reverently, believing as the Scriptures have said. For the busy, curious person gains nothing, and besides not finding what he seeks, he will suffer the worst punishment. You have heard that the Father begot the Son. Believe what you have heard. But do not ask “How?” and so do away with the begetting itself; to do that would be the height of folly.

For consider this man. He heard of a birth — not that birth on high that is beyond words, but this birth that comes by grace — and because he thought nothing great about it, only human and earthly thoughts, he was left in the dark and in doubt. Then what punishment must they deserve who busy themselves with curious questions about that most awesome birth, which surpasses all reason and understanding? For nothing makes a person so dizzy as human reasoning, which speaks only of earthly things and cannot bear to be enlightened from above.

Earthly reasonings are full of mud. That is why we need streams from heaven, so that when the mud has settled to the bottom, the clearer part may rise and mingle with the lessons from heaven. This happens when we bring an honest soul and an upright life. For the mind can be darkened not only by ill-timed curiosity but also by corrupt habits. That is why Paul said to the Corinthians, “I fed you with milk, not with solid food, for you were not yet able to take it; and even now you are not able, for you are still of the flesh. For while there is envy and strife and division among you, are you not of the flesh?” (First Corinthians 3, verse 2). And in the letter to the Hebrews too, and in many other places, you can see Paul declaring that this is the cause of wrong teachings. For the soul possessed by passions cannot see anything great or noble; as though clouded over by a kind of film, it suffers the most painful dimness of sight.

So let us cleanse ourselves. Let us kindle the light of knowledge. Let us not sow among thorns. What the thorns are, you know, even if we do not tell you, for you have often heard Christ give this name to the worries of this present life and the deceitfulness of riches (Matthew 13, verse 22). And rightly so. As thorns bear no fruit, neither do these things. As thorns tear those who handle them, so do these passions. As thorns easily catch fire and are hated by the farmer, so are the things of the world. As wild beasts and snakes and scorpions hide in thorns, so they hide in the deceitfulness of riches.

But let us kindle the fire of the Spirit, so that we may burn up the thorns, drive away the beasts, and clear the field for the farmer. And after we have cleared it, let us water it with the streams of the Spirit. Let us plant the fruitful olive, the kindest of trees: evergreen, giving light, giving food, giving health. Almsgiving has all these qualities, and it is like a seal on those who have it. Not even death, when it comes, makes this plant wither. It stands always, lighting up the mind, feeding the sinews of the soul, and making its strength greater. And if we keep it always, we will be able to look on the Bridegroom with confidence and to enter the bridal chamber. May we all reach it, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father and the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.