Homily 29 — John 3, verses 22 to 30

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on the Gospel of John

Homily 29 — John 3, verses 22 to 30

John 3, verses 22 to 30

“And he came, with his disciples, into the land of Judea, and there he stayed with them (and baptized).”

Nothing is clearer or stronger than the truth, just as nothing is weaker than a lie, even when it is shaded by ten thousand veils. Even so it is easily found out; it easily melts away. But the truth stands out unveiled for all who want to look at her beauty. She seeks no hiding place, dreads no danger, trembles at no plots, wants no glory from the crowd, and is answerable to nothing mortal. She stands above them all. She is the target of ten thousand secret plots, and yet she remains unconquered. By her own surpassing strength she guards those who run to her for refuge, as though in a secure fortress. She avoids secret lurking places and sets what is hers before everyone.

Christ declared this when he was speaking with Pilate: “I have always taught openly, and I have said nothing in secret” (John 18, verse 20). As he spoke then, so he acted now. “After this,” says the evangelist, “he went out with his disciples into the land of Judea, and there he stayed with them and baptized.” At the feasts he went up to the city to set out his teaching in front of them all, together with the help of his miracles. But after the feasts were over, he often went to the Jordan, because many people flocked together there. He always chose the most crowded places — not out of any love of show or empty glory, but because he wanted to give his help to as many as possible.

Yet farther on the evangelist says that “Jesus himself did not baptize, but his disciples.” From this it is clear that this is his meaning here as well. And why did Jesus not baptize? The Baptist had said before, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” Now he had not yet given the Spirit, so it was with good reason that he did not baptize. But his disciples did, because they wanted to bring many to the teaching that saves.

“And why, when the disciples of Jesus were baptizing, did John not stop? Why did he go on baptizing, right up until he was led off to prison? For to say, ‘John also was baptizing in Aenon’ (verse 23), and to add, ‘John had not yet been thrown into prison’ (verse 24), is to declare that he did not stop baptizing until that time. But why did he baptize until then? He would have made the disciples of Jesus seem more worthy of respect if he had stopped when they began. Why, then, did he baptize?” He did it so as not to stir his own disciples to even fiercer rivalry and make them more quarrelsome still. For although he proclaimed Christ ten thousand times, gave him the first place, and made himself so much lower, he still could not persuade them to run to him. If he had added this as well, he would have made them even more hostile. That is why Christ began to preach more steadily once John was taken away. And besides, I think John’s death was permitted, and came so very quickly, so that the whole attention of the crowds might shift to Christ, and they might no longer be divided in their opinions about the two.

Besides, even while he was baptizing, he never stopped urging them on and showing them how high and awe-inspiring Jesus was. For he baptized them and told them nothing else than that they must believe in the one who came after him. Now how would a man who acted like this have made Christ’s disciples seem worthy of respect by stopping? On the contrary, people would have thought he stopped out of envy and ill feeling. To go on preaching gave a stronger proof. For he wanted no glory for himself; he sent his hearers on to Christ. He worked with Christ no less than Christ’s own disciples did — rather, much more — because his testimony was above suspicion, and everyone thought far more highly of him than of them. The evangelist implies this when he says, “All Judea and the country around the Jordan went out to him and were baptized” (Matthew 3, verse 5). Even when the disciples were baptizing, many did not stop running to him.

If anyone should ask: “And in what way was the disciples’ baptism better than John’s?” we will answer: in nothing. Both alike were without the gift of the Spirit, and both parties had one and the same reason for baptizing: to lead the baptized to Christ. They did not want to be always running about to gather together those who were going to believe, as Simon’s brother did in his case, and Philip with Nathanael. So they took up baptizing, to bring everyone to them easily by it, and to prepare the way for the faith that was to come. And that neither baptism was any better than the other is shown by what follows. What is that?

Verse 25: “A question arose,” says the evangelist, “between some of John’s disciples and the Jews about purification.”

John’s disciples were always jealous of Christ’s disciples and of Christ himself. When they saw them baptizing, they began to argue with those who had been baptized, as though their own baptism were in some way better than that of Christ’s disciples. They took one of the baptized and tried to persuade him of this, but they did not persuade him. Listen to how the evangelist has let us understand that it was they who attacked the man, not he who started the dispute. He does not say, “A certain Jew questioned them,” but, “A question arose from John’s disciples with a certain Jew about purification.”

And notice, I beg you, how careful the evangelist is not to give offense. He does not speak like an accuser. As far as he can, he softens the charge, saying only that “a question arose.” Yet what follows — which he has also set down without giving offense — makes it plain that what was said was said out of jealousy.

Verse 26: “They came to John,” he says, “and said to him, ‘Rabbi, the one who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you bore witness — look, he is baptizing, and everyone is coming to him.’”

That is, “the one you baptized.” This is what they are hinting at when they say, “to whom you bore witness.” It is as if they had said, “The one you pointed out as distinguished and made famous dares to do the same as you.” Yet they do not say, “The one you baptized is baptizing,” for then they would have had to mention the voice that came down from heaven and the Spirit coming down. But what do they say? “The one who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you bore witness.” That is, “The one who held the rank of a disciple, who was nothing more than we are — this man has broken away and is baptizing.” For they thought to make John jealous not only by this, but also by claiming that their own reputation was now shrinking. “Everyone,” they say, “is coming to him.”

From this it is clear that they had not got the better of the Jew they argued with. They said these words because their character was still immature and they were not yet free of the spirit of rivalry. What, then, does John do? He did not rebuke them sharply, for fear they would break away from him again and do some other harm. What does he say?

Verse 27: “A man can receive nothing unless it is given him from above.”

Do not be surprised if he speaks of Christ in a humble way. It was impossible to teach everything at once, right from the beginning, to men so taken over by passion. For the moment he wants to strike them with awe and fear, and to show them that when they were making war on Christ, they were making war on none other than God himself. Here he quietly establishes the truth that Gamaliel stated: “You cannot overthrow it, or you may even be found fighting against God” (Acts 5, verse 39). For to say, “No one can receive anything unless it is given him from heaven,” was nothing else than declaring that they were attempting the impossible, and so would be found fighting against God. “Well, but did not Theudas and his followers ‘receive’ from themselves?” They did, but they were scattered at once and destroyed. Not so with what belonged to Christ.

By this he also gently comforts them. He shows them that it was not a man but God who outdid them in honor, and so they must not wonder if what belonged to him was glorious and if “everyone was coming to him.” For this was the nature of divine things, and it was God who brought them about, since no man had ever yet had the power to do such deeds. All human things are easily seen through and rotten; they quickly melt away and perish. These were not like that, and so they were not human.

Notice, too, how when they said, “to whom you bore witness,” he turned against them the very thing they thought they had put forward to lower Christ. He silences them, after showing that Jesus’ glory did not come from his testimony. “A man cannot,” he says, “receive anything of himself unless it is given him from heaven.” “If you hold to my testimony at all and believe it to be true, understand that by that testimony you ought to prefer, not me to him, but him to me. For what was it that I testified? I call you yourselves as witnesses.”

Verse 28: “You yourselves bear me witness that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’”

“If, then, you hold to my testimony — and you bring it up even now when you say, ‘to whom you bore witness’ — he is not only not made smaller by receiving my witness; he is rather made greater by it. Besides, the testimony was not mine, but God’s. So if I seem trustworthy to you, among other things I said this: ‘I have been sent before him.’” Do you see how little by little he shows that this voice was divine? What he says amounts to this: “I am a servant, and I speak the words of the one who sent me. I am not flattering Christ to win human favor; I am serving his Father, who sent me. I did not give the testimony as a gift; what I was sent to speak, I spoke. So do not suppose because of this that I am great. It shows that he is great. He is Lord of all things.” He goes on to declare this, and says:

The Friend of the Bridegroom

Verse 29: “The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. But the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice.”

“But how can the man who said, ‘I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal,’ now call himself his ‘friend’?” He does not say this to exalt himself, or in boasting. He wants to show that he too is doing all he can to advance this — the exaltation of Christ — and that these things are happening not against his will or to his sorrow; that he wants them and is eager for them; and that everything he had done had been done with them especially in view. He has shown this very wisely by the word “friend.” For on occasions like weddings, the bridegroom’s servants are not as glad and joyful as his “friends.” It was not out of any wish to prove himself equal in honor — far from it! — but only to show the overflow of his joy, and also by stooping down to meet their weakness, that he calls himself “friend.” For he had already declared his service when he said, “I have been sent before him.” For this reason, and because they thought he was upset at what had happened, he called himself the “friend of the bridegroom,” to show that he was not only not upset but was even rejoicing greatly.

“For,” he says, “I came to bring this about. And I am so far from grieving at what has been done that if it had not come to pass, then I would have grieved deeply. If the bride had not come to the bridegroom, then I would have grieved; but not now, since my task has been accomplished. When his servants advance, we are the ones who gain the honor, for what we wanted has come to pass. The bride knows the bridegroom, and you are witnesses of it when you say, ‘Everyone is coming to him.’ This is what I longed for; I did everything to this end. And now that I see it has come to pass, I am glad, I rejoice, I leap for joy.”

But what does this mean: “The one who stands and hears him rejoices greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice”? He carries the expression over from the parable to the matter at hand. After mentioning the bridegroom and the bride, he shows how the bride is brought home: by a “voice” and by teaching. For that is how the church is married to God. That is why Paul says, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” (Romans 10, verse 17). “At this ‘voice,’” he says, “I rejoice.” And it is not without reason that he puts in “who stands.” He means to show that his own office had ended; that he had handed “the bride” over to him and must from now on stand and listen to him; that he was a servant and helper; and that his good hope and his joy were now fulfilled. That is why he says, “So this joy of mine is complete.” That is to say: “The work I had to do is finished. From now on I can do nothing more.”

Then, to keep their jealousy from growing, not only at that time but in the future, he also tells them what was going to happen, confirming this too by what he had already said and done. So he goes on:

Verse 30: “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

That is to say: “What is mine has now come to a stop, and from now on it has ceased; but what is his is increasing. What you are afraid of will not happen only now; it will happen much more as it goes on. And it is this above all that shows what is mine in a brighter light. For this is why I came, and I rejoice that what is his has made such great progress, and that the things have come to pass for whose sake everything I did was done.”

Do you see how gently and how very wisely he calmed their passion, put out their envy, and showed them that they were attempting the impossible — the method by which wickedness is best held in check? That is why it was arranged that these things should happen while John was still alive and baptizing: so that his disciples might have him as a witness to Christ’s superiority, and so that, if they did not believe, they would be without excuse. For John did not come out with these words of his own accord, or in answer to other people’s questions. They asked the question themselves, and they heard the answer. If he had spoken on his own, their conviction would not have been equal to the verdict against themselves that they received when they heard him answer their own question. In the same way the Jews too, because they sent to him from their homes, heard what they heard, and still would not believe, deprived themselves of excuse by this above all.

Against the Love of Glory

What, then, are we taught by this? That a mad desire for glory is the cause of all evils. This is what led them to jealousy, and when they had let up for a little, this is what stirred them up to it again. That is why they come to Jesus and say, “Why do your disciples not fast?” (Matthew 9, verse 14).

So, beloved, let us run from this passion. If we run from it, we will escape hell. For this vice above all kindles the fire of hell. It extends its rule everywhere and holds every age and every rank in its tyranny. It has turned churches upside down; it does harm in the affairs of state; it has overthrown households and cities, peoples and nations. Why are you surprised? It has even gone out into the desert and shown its great power even there. Men who have said a complete farewell to riches and all the show of the world, who talk with no one, who have mastered the more imperious desires of the flesh — these very men have often been taken captive by empty glory and lost everything. Because of this passion, one who had labored much went away worse off than one who had not labored at all, but on the contrary had committed ten thousand sins: the Pharisee went away worse off than the tax collector.

Still, it is easy enough to condemn the passion — everyone agrees in doing that. The question is how to get the better of it. How can we do this? By setting honor against honor. We despise the riches of earth when we look to the other riches; we look down on this life when we think of that life, far better than this one. In the same way we will be able to spit on this world’s glory when we come to know another glory, far more majestic, which is glory indeed. The one is vain and empty; it has the name without the reality. But the other, which comes from heaven, is true. It has angels and archangels and the Lord of the archangels to give it praise — or rather, I should say, it has men as well.

If you look to that theater, learn what crowns are given there, and carry yourself in thought into the applause that comes from there, earthly things will never be able to hold you. When they come, you will not think them great; when they are gone, you will not go looking for them. Even in earthly palaces, none of the guards who stand around the king neglects to please the one who wears the diadem and sits on the throne in order to trouble himself about the cawing of jackdaws, or the noise of flies and gnats flying and buzzing around him. And a good reputation among people is no better than these.

Knowing, then, how worthless human things are, let us gather everything we have into treasuries that cannot be robbed, and let us seek the glory that lasts and cannot be shaken. May we all attain it, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.