Homily 12 — Matthew 3, verses 13 to 17

“Then Jesus comes from Galilee to the Jordan,” and the rest of the passage. [a]

With the servants comes the Lord, with the criminals the Judge, to be baptized. But do not be troubled. It is in these very acts of lowering himself that his greatness shines out most. He agreed to be carried so long in a virgin’s womb, to come out from there with our nature, to be beaten with rods, to be crucified, and to suffer everything else he suffered. Why, then, are you amazed if he also agreed to be baptized, and to come with the rest to his servant? The astonishing thing lay in this one point: that being God, he was willing to become man. After that, everything else follows as a matter of course.

That, I may add, is why John got in ahead of it and said everything he had said before: that he “was not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal,” and all the rest — for instance, that he is Judge and repays every man as he deserves, and that he will pour out his Spirit richly on all. He said it so that when you saw him coming to baptism, you would not suspect anything low about him. That is why he tries to stop him even after he has come, saying:

“I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” For the baptism was one “of repentance,” and it led people to accuse themselves for their offenses. So that no one would suppose that he too “comes to the Jordan” in that frame of mind, John sets it right beforehand by calling him both the Lamb and the one who redeems from all the sin that is in the world. For the one who was able to take away the sins of the whole human race was, much more, without sin himself. That is why he did not say, “Look, the one who is without sin,” but something far greater: the one “who bears the sin of the world.” He said it so that along with this truth you might receive that other one with full assurance, and, having received it, might see that he comes to baptism to carry out some further purpose of God’s plan.

That is also why he said to him when he came, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”

He did not say, “And are you being baptized by me?” He was afraid to say that. What did he say, then? “And do you come to me?” And what does Christ do? What he did later with Peter, he did then as well. Peter too would have stopped him from washing his feet. But when he heard, “What I am doing you do not know now, but you will know afterward,” and “You have no part with me,” he quickly gave up his resolve and went over to the opposite. In the same way John, when he heard, “Let it be so now, for in this way it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness,” obeyed at once. For they were not stubborn and quarrelsome. They showed both love and obedience, and made it their aim to be ruled by their Lord in everything.

And notice how he presses him on the very point that most made him uneasy about what was happening. He did not say, “This is just,” but “This is fitting.” What seemed unworthy of Christ in John’s mind was chiefly this: his being baptized by his servant. So he put forward this point rather than any other, since it meets that impression head-on. It is as though he had said: “Is it not because this seems unfitting that you shrink from it and try to prevent it? No — for this very reason I tell you to let it be: because it is fitting, and fitting in the highest degree.”

And he did not simply say, “Let it be,” but added, “now.” “It will not be this way forever. You will see me as you long to see me. For the present, though, bear with this.” Next he shows how this “is fitting” for him. How is it fitting? “In that we fulfill the whole law.” And to express this he said, “all righteousness.” For righteousness is the fulfilling of the commandments. “Since, then, we have carried out all the other commandments, and this one alone remains, it must be added too. For I have come to do away with the curse laid down for breaking the law. So I must first fulfill it all, and, having set you free from its condemnation, bring it to an end in this way. It is fitting for me, then, to fulfill the whole law, by the same rule that it is fitting for me to do away with the curse written against you in the law. This is the very purpose for which I took on flesh and came here.”

“Then he allowed him. And when Jesus had been baptized, he went up at once out of the water; and look, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God coming down like a dove and resting on him.” [f]

Many people supposed that John was greater than he. John had been brought up all his life in the wilderness; he was the son of a chief priest; he wore clothing like that; he was calling everyone to his baptism; and he had been born of a barren mother. Jesus, on the other hand, was first of all the son of a girl of ordinary rank — for the virgin birth was not yet known to everyone. Besides, he had been brought up in a house, he mixed with everyone, and he wore ordinary clothes. So they suspected he was less than John, since they knew nothing yet of those hidden things.

And on top of this it happened that he was baptized by John, which would have supported this guess even if none of the things mentioned before had existed. For it would occur to them that this man was one of the many — if he were not one of the many, he would not have come with the many to the baptism — but that John was greater than he and far more to be admired. So, to keep this opinion from taking hold, the heavens are opened when he is baptized, and the Spirit comes down, and with the Spirit a voice, proclaiming the dignity of the only Son.

For the voice that said, “This is my beloved Son,” would have seemed to the crowd to belong rather to John. It did not add, “This one who is being baptized,” but simply “This,” and every hearer would have taken it as said of the baptizer rather than the one baptized — partly because of the Baptist’s own dignity, and partly because of everything already mentioned. So the Spirit came in the form of a dove, drawing the voice toward Jesus and making it plain to everyone that “This” was not said of John who baptized, but of Jesus who was baptized.

One may say: “Then how was it that they did not believe, when these things happened?” Because in the days of Moses too many wonderful works were done, though not such as these. And after all of them — the voices, the trumpets, the lightning — they both cast a calf and “joined themselves to Baal of Peor.” And the very people who were present at the time and saw Lazarus rise, far from believing in the one who had done these things, tried again and again even to kill him. Now if they were so wicked when they saw someone rise from the dead before their eyes, why be amazed that they did not accept a voice carried down from above? When a soul is closed and perverse, and in the grip of the disease of envy, it gives way to none of these things; just as, when it is open and honest, it receives everything with faith and has no great need of them.

So do not say, “They did not believe.” Ask instead, “Did not everything happen that ought to have made them believe?” For through the prophet too God makes this kind of defense of his ways in general. The Jews were on the point of ruin and of being handed over to the most extreme punishment. So that no one would use their wickedness to slander his providence, he says, “What ought I to have done for this vineyard that I have not done?” Reason the same way here: “What ought to have been done that was not done?” And indeed, whenever arguments arise about God’s providence, use this kind of defense against those who try to turn the wickedness of the many into a prejudice against it.

See, for instance, what astonishing things are done here, preludes of what was to come: it is no longer paradise but heaven that is opened. But let our argument with the Jews wait for another time. For now, with God working with us, we would turn our discussion to what is immediately before us.

“And when Jesus had been baptized, he went up at once out of the water; and look, the heavens were opened to him.” [k]

Why were the heavens opened? To teach you that at your baptism this happens too: God is calling you to your homeland above and urging you to have nothing to do with the earth. And if you do not see it, do not doubt it for a moment. For at the beginnings of all wonderful and spiritual events, visions that the senses can perceive always appear, and signs of that kind. They are for the sake of those who are rather slow by disposition, who need something to look at, who cannot conceive of a bodiless nature at all, and who are stirred only by what they see. So even if nothing of the kind happens afterward, what was declared through them once for all at the start may be received by your faith.

In the case of the apostles too, there was “a sound of a mighty wind,” and visions of tongues of fire appeared — not for the apostles’ sake, but because of the Jews who were present then. Even so, though no signs perceptible to the senses take place, we receive what was once made plain by them. That is why the dove appeared at that time: so that, like a finger, so to speak, it might point out the Son of God to those who were present, and to John. And not only for that reason, but also to teach you that at your baptism the Spirit comes on you no less. But from then on we have no need of a vision for the senses; faith is enough in place of all of it. For signs are “not for those who believe, but for those who do not believe.”

But why in the form of a dove? That creature is gentle and pure. Since the Spirit too is “a Spirit of gentleness,” he appears in this form. Besides, he is reminding us of an ancient story. Once, when a shipwreck shared by all had overtaken the whole world and our race was in danger of perishing, this creature appeared. It pointed to the rescue from the storm, and, carrying an olive branch, it announced the good news of calm for the whole world. All of this was a type of what was to come. For in fact the condition of people then was much worse, and they deserved a much heavier punishment.

So that you would not despair, then, he reminds you of that story. For then too, when things were desperate, there came a kind of rescue and setting right. But then it came by punishment; now, on the contrary, it comes by grace and a gift beyond words. That is why the dove appears as well — not carrying an olive branch, but pointing out to us the one who rescues us from all evils, and holding out hopes full of grace. For she does not lead one man only out of an ark; at her appearing she leads the whole world up into heaven, and instead of a branch of peace from an olive tree, she brings adoption as sons to all the world’s children alike.

Think now of the greatness of the gift, and do not count his dignity any less because he appeared in such a likeness. For I actually hear some people saying that “as great as the difference between a man and a dove, so great is the difference between Christ and the Spirit, since the one appeared in our nature and the other in the likeness of a dove.” What, then, should we say to this? That the Son of God did indeed take on the nature of man, but the Spirit did not take on the nature of a dove. That is why the evangelist did not say “in the nature of a dove” but “in the form of a dove.” And so he never appeared in that form again, but only at that moment.

If this is your reason for claiming his dignity is less, then by this reasoning the cherubim too will turn out to be far above him — as far as an eagle is above a dove — since they too were pictured in that visible shape. And the angels again will be above him, for they too have often appeared in human form. But these things are not so; they are indeed not so. For it is one thing for God, in his plan, truly to take on a nature, and quite another for him to stoop down to meet us in a vision that lasts only a moment.

Do not, I beg you, become ungrateful toward your Benefactor, or repay with the very opposite the one who has given you the fountain of blessedness. For where adoption as sons is granted, there too evils are removed and every good thing is given.

For this very reason the Jewish baptism comes to an end, and ours begins. What happened with the Passover happens with baptism too. There also he was acting with both in view: he brought the one to an end and gave the other its beginning. So here, having fulfilled the Jewish baptism, he at the same time opens the doors of the Church’s baptism as well. As then at one table, so now in one river, he had both sketched the shadow and now adds the reality. For this baptism alone has the grace of the Spirit; John’s was without this gift. [o]

That is exactly why nothing of this kind happened in the case of the others who were baptized, but only in the case of the one who was to hand this gift on. It was so that, besides what we have said, you might learn this too: it was not the purity of the baptizer but the power of the one baptized that brought this about. Certainly not until then were the heavens opened, or did the Spirit come near. For from now on he leads us away from the old way of life to the new, both opening to us the gates above and sending down his Spirit from there to call us to our homeland there — and not merely to call us, but with the greatest mark of honor. For he has not made us angels and archangels; he has made us “sons of God” and “beloved,” and so he draws us on toward the portion that is ours.

Keep all this in mind, then, and show a life worthy of the love of the one who calls you, of your citizenship in that world, and of the honor given you. You are crucified to the world, and you have crucified the world to yourself; so show yourself, with all strictness, a citizen of the city of heaven. And do not suppose, because your body has not been carried up to heaven, that you have anything to do with the earth. For you have your Head remaining above. Indeed, it was for this very purpose that the Lord first came here, bringing his angels, and then took you with him and went back there: so that even before you go up to that place, you might understand that it is possible for you to live on earth as though it were heaven.

So let us guard that noble birth which we received from the beginning. Let us seek the palaces there more and more every day, and count everything here a shadow and a dream. If some king on earth had found you poor and a beggar and suddenly made you his son, you would never give a thought to your hut and its shabby furnishings. And yet in that case the difference is not great. Do not, then, take account of any of your former things in this case either, for you are called to something much greater. The one who calls is the Lord of the angels, and the good things he gives go beyond all words and all thought. For he does not move you from earth to earth, as the king does, but from earth to heaven, from a mortal nature to an immortal one, and to a glory beyond words, which can be properly shown only when we actually enjoy it.

Now, when you are to share in blessings like these, do I see you intent on money and clinging to the show and splendor of this place? Do you not think everything that is seen more worthless than a beggar’s rags? How will you appear worthy of this honor? What excuse will you have to plead? Or rather, what punishment will you not have to suffer, when after so great a gift you run back to your former vomit? For you are no longer punished merely as a man, but as a son of God who has sinned, and the greatness of your honor becomes the means of bringing a heavier punishment on you. We too do not punish slaves who do wrong and sons who commit the same offense equally — especially when the sons have received some great kindness from us.

For if the man who had paradise for his portion suffered such dreadful things after his honor for a single act of disobedience, what excuse will we have — we who have received heaven and have become joint heirs with the only Son — for running to the serpent after the dove? For it is no longer “Dust you are, and to dust you will return,” and “you till the ground,” and those former words, that will be said to us. It will be what is far more grievous than these: the “outer darkness,” the chains that cannot be broken, the poisonous worm, the “gnashing of teeth.” And that with good reason. For whoever is not made better even by so great a benefit would justly suffer the most extreme punishment, and one heavier still.

Elijah once opened and shut heaven, but that was to bring down rain and to hold it back. For you, heaven is not opened in that way, but so that you may go up there; and, what is more, not only to go up yourself, but to lead others up too, if you are willing. Such great confidence and power has he given you in all that is his.

Since, then, our house is there, let us store up everything there and leave nothing here, so that we do not lose it. For here, though you put a lock on it, and doors and bars, and set thousands of servants to guard it; though you get the better of all the schemers and escape the eyes of the envious, the worms, and the wasting that time brings — which is impossible — death, at any rate, you will never escape. You will be stripped of all those things in a single moment; and not only stripped of them, but forced to hand them over, often into the hands of your very enemies. But if you would transfer them to that house, you will be far above it all. There is no need there to use key or doors or bars, so great is the excellence of that city, so safe from violation is this place, and so closed by its very nature to decay and all wickedness. [s]

How, then, is it not the height of folly to heap up everything where destruction and waste are the lot of all that is stored, but where things stay untouched and grow, not to lay up even the smallest portion — and this when we are to live there forever? That is why the pagans themselves do not believe what we say. It is our deeds, not our words, that they are willing to accept from us as proof. And when they see us building ourselves fine houses, laying out gardens and baths, and buying fields, they are not willing to believe that we are getting ready for another kind of home, away from our city.

“For if this were so, they would turn everything they have here into money and store it up there in advance.” So they say, and they guess this from what is done in this world. For we see the very rich getting themselves houses and fields and all the rest chiefly in the cities where they are going to stay. But we do the opposite. With all eagerness we take possession of the earth, which we are soon to leave, giving up not only money but even our very blood for a few acres and buildings. Yet for the purchase of heaven we cannot bear to give even what is beyond our needs — and this though we would buy it at a small price and possess it forever, once we had bought it.

That is why I say we will suffer the utmost punishment, going off there naked and poor. Or rather, we will undergo these calamities that cannot be remedied not only for our own poverty, but also for making others like ourselves. For when pagans see those who have shared in such great mysteries eager about these things, they will cling all the more to these things, heaping much fire on our heads. When we, who ought to teach them to despise everything that is seen, are the very ones who most urge them on to crave these things, how will it be possible for us to be saved, when we must give an account for the ruin of others?

Do you not hear Christ say that he left us to be salt and lights in this world, so that we might both brace those who are going soft in luxury and give light to those darkened by the care of wealth? So when we throw them into even deeper darkness and make them more dissolute, what hope of salvation will we have? None at all. Wailing and gnashing our teeth, bound hand and foot, we will go off into the fire of hell, after being thoroughly worn down by the cares of riches.

Thinking over all these things, then, let us undo the chains of this deceit, so that we may not fall at all into the things that hand us over to the unquenchable fire. For whoever is a slave to money is held liable to the chains both here and there, always; but whoever is free of this desire will gain freedom from both. That we too may gain it, let us break in pieces the heavy yoke of greed and make ourselves wings toward heaven, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.