Homilies on the Gospel of John
Homily 38 — John 5, verses 14 to 22
John 5, verses 14 to 22
“Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, ‘See, you have been made well. Sin no more, or something worse may come upon you.’”
Sin is a fearful thing — fearful, and the ruin of the soul. And often the harm it does is so great that it overflows and attacks people’s bodies as well. For the most part, when the soul is sick we feel no pain; but if the body suffers even a small injury, we do everything we can to free it from its illness, because we feel that illness. That is why God often punishes the body for the soul’s wrongdoing, so that by the whipping of the lower part the better part may also receive some healing. This is how Paul, among the Corinthians, set right the man guilty of adultery. He checked the disease of the soul by the destruction of the flesh, and put the knife to the body to hold back the evil (First Corinthians 5, verse 5). He acted like an excellent physician who burns the outside of the body with cautery for dropsy or a disease of the spleen, when these will not yield to remedies given within. Christ did the same in the case of the paralyzed man, as he showed when he said, “See, you have been made well. Sin no more, or something worse may come upon you.”
Now what do we learn from this? First, that his disease had been brought on by his sins. Second, that what we are told about the fire of hell is to be believed. Third, that the punishment is long — no, endless. Where now are those who say: “I committed murder in an hour, I committed adultery in one brief moment of time, and am I to be punished forever?”
Look: this man had not sinned for as many years as he suffered. He spent a whole lifetime in the length of his punishment. Sins are not judged by time, but by the nature of the wrongdoing. Besides this, we may see something else. Even if we have suffered severely for earlier sins, if we afterward fall into the same ones, we will suffer much more severely. And with good reason. The man who is not made better even by punishment is afterward led on to still heavier chastisement, as someone without feeling and full of contempt. The fault by itself ought to be enough to check the man who has once slipped and make him more sober. But when not even the punishment added to it does this, he naturally needs more bitter torments. Now if even in this world, when we fall into the same sins after being punished, we are chastised more severely than before, then when we have sinned and not been punished at all, ought we not to be very greatly afraid and to tremble, as people about to suffer something that can never be undone?
“And why is not everyone punished this way? We see many wicked people who are healthy in body, vigorous, and enjoying great prosperity.” But let us not be confident. Let us mourn for them in this case most of all, since their having suffered nothing here helps them on to a harsher vengeance hereafter. Paul declares this when he says, “But when we are judged, we are chastened by the Lord, so that we may not be condemned with the world” (First Corinthians 11, verse 32). For the punishments here are for warning; those there are for vengeance.
“What, then? Do all diseases come from sin?” Not all, but most of them. And some come from various kinds of careless living, since gluttony, lack of self-control and laziness produce sufferings of this kind. But the one rule we must keep is to bear every blow with thanks. For they are sent because of our sins, as in the book of Kings we see one king struck with gout (First Kings 15, verse 23). And they are sent also to make us proven, as the Lord says to Job: “Do you think I have spoken to you for any other reason than that you might be shown to be righteous?” (Job 40, verse 8, in the Greek Old Testament.)
But why is it that in the case of these paralyzed men Christ brings up their sins? He says also to the man in Matthew who lay on a bed, “Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven” (Matthew 9, verse 2); and to this man, “See, you have been made well. Sin no more.” I know that some people slander this paralyzed man. They claim he was an accuser of Christ, and that this was why these words were spoken to him. What, then, will we say about the other man in Matthew, who heard nearly the same words? For Christ says to him too, “Your sins are forgiven.” It is clear from this that this man was not spoken to in this way for the reason they allege either.
We may see this still more clearly from what follows. “Afterward,” says the evangelist, “Jesus found him in the temple” — a sign of his great devotion. He did not go off to the marketplaces and the public walks, or give himself up to luxury and ease. He stayed in the temple, even though he was about to face so violent an attack and to be harassed by everyone there. Yet none of these things persuaded him to leave the temple. Moreover, when Christ found him, even after the man had talked with the Jews, he hinted at nothing of the kind. If he had wanted to charge him with this, he would have said to him: “Are you trying the same sins again as before? Have you not been made better by your cure?” Yet he said nothing of the kind; he only makes him safe for the future.
Why, then, when he had cured the lame and the crippled, did he not in any case mention anything like this? I think the diseases of these paralyzed men came from acts of sin, and those of the others from natural weakness. Or if that is not so, then through these men, and through the words spoken to them, he has spoken to the rest as well. Since this disease is more grievous than any other, through the greater he corrects the lesser too. When he had healed a certain other man, he charged him to give glory to God, addressing this charge not to him alone but through him to everyone. In the same way he addresses to these men, and through them to all the rest of humankind, the charge and the advice that was given to them by word of mouth. Besides this, we may also say that Jesus saw great endurance in this man’s soul, and addressed the charge to him as to one able to receive his command, keeping him in health both by the kindness he had done him and by the fear of evils to come.
And notice that there is no boasting. He did not say, “See, I have made you well,” but, “You have been made well; sin no more.” And again, not, “or I will punish you,” but, “or something worse may come upon you.” He put both phrases impersonally, and showed that the cure came from grace rather than from merit. He did not tell him that he had been set free after suffering the punishment he deserved, but that he had been made well through his love for humankind. If that had not been the case, he would have said: “See, you have suffered enough punishment for your sins; stand firm from now on.” But as it is, he did not speak that way. How, then?
“See, you have been made well; sin no more.” Let us keep repeating these words to ourselves. If we have been chastised and then set free, let each of us say to himself, “See, you have been made well; sin no more.” But if we are not punished even though we continue in the same ways, let us use as our charm that word of the apostle: “The goodness of God leads us to repentance; but by our hardness and unrepentant heart we store up wrath for ourselves” (Romans 2, verses 4 and 5).
And he gave the sick man a strong proof of his divinity not only by strengthening his body, but in another way too. By saying, “Sin no more,” he showed that he knew all the wrongs the man had committed before; and by this he would win his belief about the future.
Verse 15: “The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well.”
Again notice how he keeps the same right disposition. He does not say, “This is the man who said, ‘Take up your bed.’” Rather, as they kept putting forward this supposed charge, he kept putting forward his defense, again naming his Healer and trying to draw others to him and bind them to him. He was not so unfeeling as to betray his Benefactor after such a kindness and such a charge, and to speak as he did with evil intent. Even if he had been a wild beast, even if he had been something unlike a man, made of stone, the kindness and the fear would have been enough to restrain him. With the threat lodged inside him, he would have dreaded suffering “something worse,” since he had already received the greatest pledges of his Physician’s power. Besides, if he had wanted to slander him, he would have said nothing about his own cure; he would have brought up the breaking of the Sabbath and pressed it against him. But that is not so — surely it is not. His words are words of great boldness and candor. He proclaims his Benefactor no less than the blind man did. For what did the blind man say? “He made clay and anointed my eyes” (John 9, verse 6). And so this man we are now speaking of says, “It is Jesus who made me well.”
Verse 16: “And for this reason the Jews persecuted Jesus and sought to kill him, because he had done these things on the Sabbath.” What, then, does Christ say?
Verse 17: “My Father is working until now, and I am working.”
When the disciples needed to be excused, he brought forward David, their fellow servant, saying, “Have you not read what David did when he was hungry?” (Matthew 12, verse 2). But when the excuse was to be made for himself, he turned to the Father. So he showed his equality in two ways: by calling God his Father in a sense that belonged to him alone, and by doing the same things the Father does. “And why did he not mention what took place at Jericho?” Because he wanted to raise them up from the earth, so that they would no longer look to him as to a man, but as to God, and as to one with the right to make laws. For if he had not been the true Son, of the same being, the defense would have been worse than the charge. Suppose a governor ruling for the king had altered a royal law, and when charged with it excused himself this way: “Yes, but the king too has repealed laws.” He could not escape; he would only make the charge heavier. But in this case, since the dignity is equal, the defense is made complete on the surest grounds. He says in effect: “The charges you acquit God of, acquit me of too.” That is why he said first, “My Father”: so that, out of reverence for the sonship he so plainly claimed, he might persuade them, even against their will, to grant him the same.
If anyone says, “And how does the Father ‘work,’ when he ceased on the seventh day from all his works?” let him learn the way in which he “works.” What is his way of working? He cares for and holds together everything that has been made. So when you see the sun rising and the moon running her course, the lakes and springs and rivers and rains, the working of nature in seeds and in our own bodies and in those of animals without reason, and everything else of which this universe is made up, then learn the Father’s unceasing work.
“For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5, verse 45). And again: “If God so clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire” (Matthew 6, verse 30). And speaking of the birds, he said, “Your heavenly Father feeds them.”
In that other place, then, he did everything on the Sabbath by word alone and added nothing more, and he answered their charges from what was done in the temple and from their own practice. But here he commanded a work to be done, the carrying of a bed. That was a thing of no great importance as far as the miracle went, though by it he did make one thing plain: an open breaking of the Sabbath. So here he leads his discourse up to something greater, wanting all the more to awe them by the dignity of the Father and to lead them up to higher thoughts. That is why, whenever his discourse concerns the Sabbath, he makes his defense neither as a man only nor as God only, but sometimes in one way and sometimes in the other. He wanted to convince them both of how far he had stooped down to meet them in the plan of salvation, and of the dignity of his Godhead. So now he defends himself as God. For if he had always spoken with them simply as a man, they would have stayed at the same low level. To keep that from happening, he brings forward the Father. Creation itself, of course, “works” on the Sabbath: the sun runs, rivers flow, springs bubble up, women give birth. But so that you may learn that he is not part of creation, he did not say, “Yes, I work, because creation works,” but, “Yes, I work, because my Father works.”
Verse 18: “For this reason the Jews sought all the more to kill him, because he not only had broken the Sabbath, but also said that God was his Father, making himself equal with God.”
And he declared this not in words only but in deeds — not in speech alone, but even more often by his actions. Why? Because they could object to his words and charge him with arrogance; but when they saw the truth of his actions proved by results, and his power proclaimed by his works, after that they could say nothing against him. Yet those who will not take these words with a right mind claim that Christ did not make himself equal to God, but that the Jews suspected it. Come, then, let us go over what has been said from the beginning. Tell me: did the Jews persecute him, or not? It is clear to everyone that they did. Did they persecute him for this, or for something else? Again, it is agreed that it was for this. Did he break the Sabbath, or not? No one can say anything against the fact that he did. Did he call God his Father, or not? This too is true. Then the rest follows by the same reasoning. Calling God his Father, breaking the Sabbath, and being persecuted by the Jews for the one reason and even more for the other did not belong to a false imagining but to actual fact. In the same way, “making himself equal to God” was a statement of the same kind.
One may see this more clearly from what he had said before. “My Father is working, and I am working” is the language of one who declares himself equal to God. In these words he has marked no difference. He did not say, “He works, and I serve,” but, “As he works, so I work,” and so he declared complete equality. But if he had not wanted to establish this, and the Jews had supposed it without reason, he would not have let their minds be misled; he would have corrected it. Besides, the evangelist would not have kept silent about it. He would have said plainly that the Jews supposed this, but that Jesus did not make himself equal to God.
In another place he does exactly this, when he sees that something was said in one sense and understood in another. Christ said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2, verse 19), speaking of his flesh. But the Jews did not understand this. They supposed the words were spoken of the Jewish temple, and said, “This temple was forty-six years in building, and will you raise it up in three days?” Since, then, he said one thing and they imagined another — for he spoke of his flesh, and they thought the words were spoken of their temple — the evangelist remarks on it, or rather corrects their idea, and goes on to say, “But he spoke of the temple of his body.” So here too, if Christ had not made himself equal with God and had not wanted to establish this, and yet the Jews had imagined he did, the writer would have corrected their supposition here as well. He would have said: “The Jews thought he made himself equal to God, but in fact he was not speaking of equality.”
And this is done not in this place only, nor by this evangelist only; elsewhere another evangelist is seen doing the same. When Christ warned his disciples, “Beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees” (Matthew 16, verse 6), they reasoned among themselves, saying, “It is because we brought no bread.” He meant one thing, calling their teaching “yeast,” but the disciples imagined another, supposing that the words were said about bread. And there it is not the evangelist who sets them right, but Christ himself, who says, “How is it that you do not understand that I did not speak to you about bread?” But here there is nothing of the kind.
“But Christ added the words of verse 19 to remove this very thought: ‘The Son can do nothing of himself.’” My good man, he does the very opposite! He says this not to take away his equality but to confirm it. But pay close attention, for this is no ordinary question. The expression “of himself” occurs in many places in Scripture, of Christ and of the Holy Spirit, and we must learn the force of the expression so that we do not fall into the gravest errors. If someone takes it on its own, in the sense that first suggests itself, consider how great an absurdity follows. He did not say that he could do some things of himself and could not do others. He said it without exception:
“The Son can do nothing of himself.” I ask my opponent, then: “Tell me, can the Son do nothing of himself?” If he answers that he can do nothing, we will say that he has done of himself the very greatest of all good things. Paul cries aloud, saying, “Who, being in the form of God, did not think it robbery to be equal with God, but made himself of no reputation, and took upon himself the form of a servant” (Philippians 2, verses 6 and 7). And again, Christ himself says in another place, “I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it up again,” and, “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of myself” (John 10, verse 18). Do you see that he has power over life and death, and that he carried out so great a plan of salvation of himself? And why do I speak about Christ, when even we, than whom nothing could be more lowly, do many things of ourselves? Of ourselves we choose vice; of ourselves we pursue virtue. If we do not do it of ourselves, and have no power to, then we will neither suffer hell when we do wrong nor enjoy the kingdom when we do right.
What, then, does “can do nothing of himself” mean? That he can do nothing in opposition to the Father, nothing foreign to him, nothing strange to him. And this, above all, is the statement of one who declares equality and complete agreement.
But why did he not say, “He does nothing contrary,” instead of, “He cannot do”? So that from this, again, he might show how unvarying and how exact the equality is. The expression does not charge him with weakness; it shows his great power. In another place Paul says of the Father, “So that by two unchangeable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie” (Hebrews 6, verse 18); and again, “If we deny him — he remains faithful,” for “he cannot deny himself” (Second Timothy 2, verses 12 and 13). And in truth this word “impossible” does not declare weakness but power — power beyond words. What it says is this: “That being does not admit such things.” Just as when we too say, “It is impossible for God to do wrong,” we do not charge him with any weakness but confess in him a power beyond words, so when he too says, “I can do nothing of myself” (John 5, verse 30), his meaning is, “It is impossible — nature does not allow it — that I should do anything contrary to the Father.”
And so that you may learn that this is really what is meant, let us go over what follows and see whether Christ agrees with what we say or with what you say. You say that the expression does away with his power and his own authority, and shows his might to be weak. I say that it proves his equality, his unvarying likeness to the Father, and the fact that everything is done as by one will and power and might. Let us ask Christ himself, then, and see from what he says next whether he interprets these words according to your supposition or according to ours. What, then, does he say?
“For whatever things the Father does, these the Son also does in the same way.”
Do you see how he has pulled your claim up by the roots and confirmed what we say? If Christ does nothing of himself, then neither will the Father do anything of himself, if indeed Christ does all things in the same way as he does. If that is not the case, another strange conclusion will follow. For he did not say, “Whatever things he saw the Father doing, he did,” but, “Unless he sees the Father doing something, he does not do it,” extending his words to all time. So, according to you, he will be forever learning the same things. Do you see how lofty the thought is, and how the very humbleness of the expression forces even the most shameless and unwilling to steer clear of groveling thoughts, thoughts unworthy of his dignity? For who is so wretched and miserable as to claim that the Son learns day by day what he must do? And how can those words be true, “You are the same, and your years will not fail” (Psalm 102, verse 27), or that other, “All things were made through him, and without him nothing was made” (John 1, verse 3), if the Father does certain things and the Son watches and imitates him?
Do you see that proof of his independent power is given both from what was said above and from what was said afterward? And if he puts forward some expressions in a lowly way, do not be surprised. When they had heard his lofty sayings, they persecuted him and considered him an enemy of God. So he sinks a little, in expression only, and then leads his discourse up again to the loftier teachings, and then in turn to the lower, varying his teaching so that it might be easy to accept even for those who were ill-disposed. Notice: after saying, “My Father is working, and I am working,” and after declaring himself equal with God, he adds, “The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he sees the Father doing.” Then again in a higher strain: “Whatever things the Father does, these the Son also does in the same way.” Then in a lower one — verse 20: “The Father loves the Son, and shows him all things that he himself does; and he will show him greater works than these.”
Do you see how humble this is? And with good reason. For what I said before, and will not stop saying, I will now repeat: when he says anything low or humble, he puts it in exaggerated terms, so that the very poverty of the expression may persuade even the ill-disposed to take in the ideas with a devout understanding. Otherwise, see how absurd a thing is being claimed — and let us test it from the words themselves. When he says, “And he will show him greater works than these,” he will be found not yet to have learned many things; and that cannot be said even of the apostles. For once they had received the grace of the Spirit, they knew in a moment, and were able to do, everything they needed to know and to have power to do. Yet Christ will be found not yet to have learned many things he needed to know. And what could be more absurd than that?
What, then, does he mean? He spoke this way because he had strengthened the paralyzed man and was about to raise the dead, all but saying: “Are you amazed that I have strengthened the paralyzed man? You will see greater things than these.” But he did not speak that way. He went on somehow in a humbler strain, so that he might calm their madness. And so that you may learn that “will show” is not meant in an unqualified sense, listen again to what follows.
Verse 21: “For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will.”
Yet “can do nothing of himself” is opposed to “whom he will.” If he gives life “to whom he will,” he can do something “of himself,” for to will implies power. But if he “can do nothing of himself,” then he cannot “give life to whom he will.” The expression “as the Father raises” shows an unvarying likeness in power, and “whom he will” shows equality of authority. Do you see, then, that “can do nothing of himself” is the language of one who is not taking away his own authority, but declaring that his power and will are unvaryingly like the Father’s? Understand the words “will show him” in this sense too. For in another place he says, “I will raise him up on the last day” (John 6, verse 40). And again, to show that he does not do it by receiving some power put into him from above, he says, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11, verse 25). Then, so that you may not claim that he raises whatever dead he wills and gives them life but does not do other things in the same way, he heads off and forestalls every objection of this kind by saying, “Whatever things he does, these the Son also does in the same way.” So he declares that he does all the things the Father does, and does them as the Father does them — whether you speak of raising the dead, or fashioning bodies, or forgiving sins, or any other matter whatever. He works in the same way as the one who begot him.
But people careless of their salvation pay attention to none of these things — so great an evil is it to be in love with first place. This has been the mother of heresies; this has confirmed the ungodliness of the pagans. For God wanted his invisible things to be understood through the creation of this world (Romans 1, verse 20). But they left these things behind and refused to come by this way of teaching; they cut out another road for themselves, and so were cast out from the true one. And the Jews did not believe, because they received honor from one another and did not seek the honor that comes from God (John 5, verse 44).
But let us, beloved, avoid this disease with all our might and all our earnestness. Though we have ten thousand good qualities, this plague of empty glory is enough to bring them all to nothing. If, then, we want praise, let us seek the praise that comes from God. The praise of people, of whatever kind it may be, perishes as soon as it has appeared; or if it does not perish, it brings us no profit, and it often comes from corrupt judgment. And what is there to admire in the honor that comes from people? Young dancers enjoy it, and immoral women, and greedy men and robbers. But the one approved by God is approved not with these, but with those holy men, the prophets and apostles, who have shown the life of angels. If we feel any desire to lead crowds about with us or to be looked at by them, let us consider the matter on its own, and we will find that it is utterly worthless.
In short, if you love crowds, draw the host of angels to yourself and become fearsome to the demons. Then you will care nothing for mortal things; you will tread everything splendid underfoot as mud and clay, and you will see clearly that nothing so fits a soul for shame as the passion for glory. It cannot — it cannot be that the man who desires this should live the crucified life; just as, on the other hand, it is not possible that the man who has trodden this underfoot should not tread down most of the other passions as well. For the one who masters this will get the better of envy and greed and all the grievous diseases.
“And how will we get the better of it?” By looking to that other glory, the one from heaven, out of which this glory tries to cast us. For that heavenly glory both makes us honored here and passes with us into the life to come. It frees us from all the slavery of the flesh, which we now serve most miserably, giving ourselves up entirely to the earth and the things of earth. If you go into the marketplace, into a house, into the streets, into the barracks, into inns, taverns, ships, islands, palaces, law courts, council chambers, you will find everywhere anxiety for present things, the things of this life, and everyone laboring for them — going or coming, traveling or staying at home, sailing, farming the land, in the fields, in the cities: in a word, everyone.
What hope of salvation, then, do we have, when we live on God’s earth and care nothing for the things of God? When we are told to be strangers to earthly things, and are instead strangers to heaven and citizens of earth? What could be worse than this lack of feeling: that hearing every day of the judgment and of the kingdom, we imitate the people in the days of Noah and those of Sodom, waiting to learn everything by actual experience? Yet all those things were written for this very purpose: that if anyone does not believe what is to come, he may get certain proof of what will be from what has already happened. So, considering these things, both the past and the future, let us at least draw breath a little from this hard slavery and take some account of our souls as well, so that we may obtain both present and future blessings, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.