Homily 39 — John 5, verses 23 to 30

“For my Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son, so that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father.” [a]

Beloved, we need great diligence in everything, for we will have to give an account of our words and our deeds alike, and undergo a strict inquiry into both. Our concerns do not stop with what is here now. Another kind of life will receive us after this one, and we will be brought before a fearful court.

“For we must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive the things done in his body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 10). Let us always keep this court in mind, so that in this way we may be able to continue in virtue at all times. The man who has thrown that day out of his soul rushes toward the cliffs like a horse that has broken its bridle. For “his ways are always defiled” (Psalm 10, verse 5), and then, giving the reason, the psalmist has added, “He puts your judgments far away out of his sight.” But the man who always keeps this fear will walk soberly. “Remember your last things,” says one writer, “and you will never do wrong” (Sirach 7, verse 40). For he who now has forgiven our sins will then sit in judgment; he who died for our sake will then appear again to judge all humankind. “To those who look for him,” says the apostle, “he will appear a second time, without sin, for salvation” (Hebrews 9, verse 28). That is why here too he says, “My Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son, so that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father.”

Someone says: “Shall we, then, call him Father too?” Far from it! He uses the word “Son” so that we may honor him, while he still remains a Son, just as we honor the Father. But whoever calls him “Father” is not honoring the Son as the Father; he has thrown the whole thing into confusion.

Moreover, since people are brought around less by being helped than by being punished, he has spoken this fearfully, so that even fear may draw them to honor him. And when he says “all,” his meaning is that he has power to punish and to honor, and does either as he wishes. The words “has given” are used so that you will not suppose he was not begotten, and so think there are two Fathers. For all that the Father is, the Son is too — begotten, and remaining a Son. And so that you may learn that “has given” is the same as “has begotten,” hear this very thing declared in another place. “As the Father has life in himself,” says Christ, “so he has given to the Son to have life in himself” (verse 26).

What then? Did he first beget him, and then give him life? For whoever gives, gives to something that already exists. Was he, then, begotten without life? Not even the demons could imagine this, for it is as foolish as it is impious. So then, just as “has given life” means “has begotten him who is Life,” so “has given judgment” means “has begotten him who will be Judge.”

When you hear that he has the Father as his cause, you are not to imagine any difference of being or any lesser honor. That is why he comes to judge you: by this he proves his equality. For he who has authority to punish and to honor whomever he wishes has the same power as the Father. Otherwise — if he was begotten first and received the honor afterward — how did he come to be honored afterward? By what kind of promotion did he advance so far as to receive this rank and be appointed to it? Are you not ashamed to apply these fleshly and petty imaginings so shamelessly to that pure nature, which admits of no addition?

Someone says: “Why, then, does Christ speak this way?” So that his words would be readily received, and to clear the way for lofty sayings. That is why he mixes these with those, and those with these. And notice how he does it, for it is good to see this from the beginning. He said, “My Father is working, and I am working” (John 5, verse 17, and the verses that follow), declaring by this their equality and equal honor. But they “sought to kill him.” What does he do then? He lowers his manner of speaking, while keeping the same meaning, when he says, “The Son can do nothing of himself.” Then he raises his discourse again to lofty matters, saying, “Whatever the Father does, the Son also does likewise.” Then he returns to what is lower: “For the Father loves the Son, and shows him all that he himself does; and he will show him greater things than these.” Then he rises higher: “For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will.” After this he joins the high and the low together again: “For the Father does not judge anyone, but has given all judgment to the Son.” Then he rises once more: “So that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father.”

Do you see how he varies his discourse, weaving it out of both high and lowly words and expressions? He did it so that it might be acceptable to the people of that time, and so that those who came after might take no harm, since from the higher part they would gain a right understanding of the rest. For if that were not so — if these sayings were not spoken by way of stooping down to meet them — why were the lofty expressions added at all? One who has every right to say great things about himself has a reasonable excuse when he says something humble and low: he does it for some wise purpose. But if one who ought to speak humbly of himself says something great, why does he utter words beyond his nature? That serves no purpose at all. It is an act of utter impiety.

So we are able to give a reason for the humble expressions, a reason that is sufficient and worthy of God: his stooping down to meet us, his teaching us to think modestly of ourselves, and the salvation that is worked for us in this way. To make this plain he said himself in another place, “I say these things so that you may be saved.” For when he set aside his own testimony and turned to John’s — a thing unworthy of his greatness — he gives the reason for such humble language and says, “I say these things so that you may be saved.” [h]

And you who claim that he does not have the same authority and power as the one who begot him, what can you say when you hear him speak words by which he declares that his authority and power and glory are equal to the Father’s? If he is as far inferior as you claim, why does he claim the same honor? Nor does he stop even here, but goes on to say, “Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him.” Do you see how the honor of the Son is bound up with the honor of the Father?

Someone says: “What of that? We see the same thing in the case of the apostles. ‘Whoever receives you,’ says Christ, ‘receives me’ (Matthew 10, verse 40).” But in that place he speaks this way because he makes the concerns of his servants his own. Here he does so because the being and the glory are one with the Father’s. That is why it is not said of the apostles, “so that they may honor,” but here he rightly says, “Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father.” For where there are two kings, if one is insulted, the other is insulted too, and especially when the one insulted is a son. A king is insulted even when one of his soldiers is mistreated — not in the same way as in this case, but, so to speak, in the person of another, while here it is, so to speak, in his own person. That is why he said beforehand, “So that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father”: so that when he went on to say, “Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father,” you would understand that the honor is the same. For he does not simply say, “whoever does not honor the Son,” but “whoever does not honor him in the way I have said” “does not honor the Father.”

Someone says: “And how can the one who sends and the one who is sent be of the same being?” Again you drag the argument down to fleshly things. You do not see that all this has been said for no other purpose than this: that we might know him to be the cause, and not fall into the error of Sabellius; and that in this way the weakness of the Jews might be healed, so that he would not be thought an enemy of God. For they said, “This man is not from God” (John 9, verse 16), “This man has not come from God.” To remove this suspicion, lofty sayings did not help as much as humble ones. That is why he continually and everywhere said that he had been “sent” — not so that you would suppose the expression to be any lessening of his greatness, but in order to stop their mouths. And for this reason too he constantly turns to the Father, while mentioning between times his own high parentage.

For if he had said everything in proportion to his dignity, the Jews would not have accepted his words, since they persecuted him, and often stoned him, because of a few such expressions. And if he had looked only to them and used nothing but humble expressions, many in later times might have been harmed. That is why he mixes and blends his teaching. With the humble sayings, as I said, he stops the mouths of the Jews; and with expressions suited to his dignity he banishes from people of good sense any low notion of what he had said, and proves that such a notion does not apply to him in any way at all.

The expression “having been sent” implies a change of place — but God is present everywhere. Why, then, does he say that he was “sent”? He is speaking in earthly terms, declaring that he is of one mind with the Father. At any rate, he shapes the words that follow with the aim of bringing this about.

Verse 24: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes in him who sent me has eternal life.”

Do you see how continually he says the same thing to cure that suspicious feeling? Both here and in what follows he removes their jealousy of him by fear and by promises of blessings, and then again stoops far down in his words. For he did not say, “Whoever hears my words and believes in me.” They would certainly have thought that pride, an empty display of words. For if, after a very long time and countless miracles, they suspected this when he spoke in that way, they would have done so much more then. That is why, at that later time, they said to him, “Abraham is dead, and the prophets are dead; how can you say, ‘If anyone keeps my word, he will never taste death’?” (John 8, verse 52). So, to keep them from becoming furious here too, see what he says: “Whoever hears my word and believes in him who sent me has eternal life.”

This did no small amount to make his discourse acceptable, when they learned that those who hear him believe in the Father too. Once they had received this readily, they would more easily receive the rest. So the very act of speaking humbly helped and led the way to higher things. For after saying “has eternal life,” he adds, “and does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.” By these two things he makes his discourse acceptable: first, because it is the Father who is believed in; and then, because the believer enjoys many blessings. And “does not come into judgment” means “is not punished.” For he is not speaking of death in this life, but of eternal death, just as the “life” too is that other life, which knows no death.

Verse 25: “Truly, truly, I say to you, the hour is coming, and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who have heard will live.”

Having spoken the words, he speaks also of the proof by deeds. When he had said, “As the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will,” then, so that this would not seem mere boasting and pride, he offers proof by works, saying, “The hour is coming.” Then, so that you would not think the time was far off, he adds, “and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who have heard will live.” Do you see here his absolute authority, beyond all words? For as it will be at the resurrection, so, he says, it will be “now.” Then too, when we hear his voice commanding us, we are raised; for, says the apostle, “at the command of God the dead will rise.”

Perhaps someone will ask: “And how is it clear that the words are not mere boasting?” From what he has added: “and now is.” Had his promises referred only to some future time, they would have been suspicious of his discourse. But as it is, he gives them a proof. He says: “While I am staying among you, this thing will come to pass.” And had he not possessed the power, he would not have promised it for that time, for fear that the promise would make him all the more ridiculous. Then he also adds an argument that proves what he has said. Verse 26: “For as the Father has life in himself, so he has given to the Son to have life in himself.”

Do you see that this declares a perfect likeness except in one point, that the one is Father and the other Son? The expression “has given” introduces only this distinction; it declares that all the rest is equal and exactly alike. From this it is clear that the Son does everything with as much authority and power as the Father, and that he is not empowered from some other source, for he “has life” just as the Father has. And for this reason what comes next is added at once, so that from this we may understand the other as well. What is it? Verse 27: “He has given him authority to execute judgment also.” [l]

And why does he dwell so continually on “resurrection” and “judgment”? For he says, “As the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will”; and again, “The Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son”; and again, “As the Father has life in himself, so he has given to the Son to have life in himself”; and again, “Those who have heard the voice of the Son of God will live”; and here again, “He has given him authority to execute judgment.” Why does he dwell on these things continually — I mean on “judgment,” and “life,” and “resurrection”? Because these subjects, more than any others, are able to win over even the stubborn listener. For the man who is persuaded that he will rise again and will give account to Christ for his wrongdoing, even if he has seen no other sign, will surely, once he has accepted this, run to him to make his peace with his Judge.

“That he is the Son of Man, do not marvel at this” (verse 28).

Paul of Samosata does not read it this way. How, then? “He has given him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man.” But read like that, the passage does not follow. He did not receive judgment because he was a man — in that case, what was to stop all men from being judges? — but because he is the Son of that being beyond words; that is why he is Judge. So we must read, “That he is the Son of Man, do not marvel at this.” For what he said seemed inconsistent to his hearers. They thought him nothing more than a mere man, while his words were greater than suited a man — yes, or even an angel — and belonged to God alone. To resolve this objection he adds, verses 28 and 29: “Do not marvel that he is the Son of Man, for the hour is coming in which those who are in the tombs will hear his voice and will come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.”

And why did he not say, “Do not marvel that he is the Son of Man, for he is also the Son of God,” but mentioned the resurrection instead? He did in fact put this above, when he said, “will hear the voice of the Son of God.” And if he is silent on the point here, do not be surprised. For after mentioning a work that belonged to God alone, he then leaves his hearers to gather from it that he was God, and the Son of God. Had he asserted this continually himself, it would have offended them at that time; but when it was proved by the argument of miracles, it made his teaching less burdensome to them. In the same way, those who build logical arguments, when they have laid down their premises and properly proved the point in question, often do not draw the conclusion themselves. Instead, to make their hearers better disposed and their victory plainer, they have the opponent himself give the verdict, so that the bystanders will agree with them all the more readily when their opponents decide in their favor.

So when he mentioned the resurrection of Lazarus, he did not speak of the judgment, for it was not for this that Lazarus rose. But when he spoke in general terms, he also added that “those who have done good will come out to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.” This is how John too led his hearers on, by speaking of the judgment, and saying that “whoever does not believe in the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him” (John 3, verse 36). This is how he himself led Nicodemus on: “Whoever believes in the Son,” he told him, “is not judged; but whoever does not believe is judged already” (John 3, verse 18). And so here he mentions the judgment seat and the punishment that will follow evil deeds. He had said above, “Whoever hears my words and believes in him who sent me” “is not judged.” So that no one would imagine this alone is enough for salvation, he adds the outcome of a person’s life as well, declaring that “those who have done good will come out to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.”

He had said, then, that the whole world would give account to him, and that all would rise again at his voice — a thing new and strange, and even now disbelieved by many who seem to have believed, let alone by the Jews of that time. Hear how he goes on to prove it, once more stooping down to the weakness of his hearers.

Verse 30: “I can do nothing of my own self. As I hear, I judge; and my judgment is just, because I do not seek my own will, but the will of him who sent me.”

And yet he had only lately given no small proof of the resurrection by strengthening the paralyzed man. That is also why he had not spoken of the resurrection before he had done something that fell little short of a resurrection. And he hinted at the judgment after he had strengthened the man’s body, when he said, “See, you have been made well; sin no more, so that nothing worse happens to you.” Still, he proclaimed beforehand the resurrection of Lazarus and of the world. And having spoken of these two — the resurrection of Lazarus, which was to take place almost at once, and that of the whole inhabited world, which was to come long after — he confirms the first by the paralyzed man and by the nearness of the time, saying, “The hour is coming, and now is”; and the second by the raising of Lazarus, bringing before their eyes what had not yet happened by means of what had already come to pass. And we can see him do this everywhere: he puts forth two or three predictions, and always confirms the future by the past.

Yet after saying and doing so much, he is still not content, since they were still very weak. With other expressions he calms their quarrelsome temper, saying, “I can do nothing of myself. As I hear, I judge; and my judgment is just, because I do not seek my own will, but the will of him who sent me.” [p]

For he seemed to be making assertions that were strange and at odds with those of the prophets. They said that it is God who judges all the earth, that is, the human race. David proclaims this truth loudly everywhere: “He will judge the people in righteousness,” and, “God is a righteous Judge, strong and patient” (Psalm 96, verse 10, and Psalm 7, verse 11, in the wording of the Greek Old Testament). So did all the prophets, and Moses. But Christ said, “The Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son” — words enough to perplex any Jew who heard them, and to make him in turn suspect Christ of being an enemy of God. So here he stoops very far down in his speech, as far as their weakness required, in order to pull this harmful opinion up by the roots, and he says, “I can do nothing of myself.” That is: “You will see nothing done and hear nothing said by me that is strange, or unlike the Father, or that the Father does not desire.”

He had earlier declared that he was “the Son of Man,” and they took him at that time for a man; so he frames his words here in the same way. When he said above, “We speak what we have heard, and testify to what we have seen,” and when John said, “What he has seen he testifies to, and no one receives his testimony” (John 3, verse 32), both expressions are used of exact knowledge, not of mere hearing and seeing. In the same way here, when he speaks of “hearing,” he declares nothing other than that it is impossible for him to desire anything except what the Father desires. Still, he did not say so plainly, for they would not yet have accepted it at once if they had heard it put that way. How, then, did he say it? In a way that stooped very low and was fitting for a mere man: “As I hear, I judge.”

Again, he uses these words here not with reference to being instructed — for he did not say, “as I am taught,” but “as I hear” — nor as though he needed to listen. For not only did he not need to be taught; he did not even need to listen. He used them to declare that his decision and the Father’s are of one mind and are one and the same, as though he had said, “I judge just as if it were the Father himself judging.” Then he adds, “and I know that my judgment is just, because I do not seek my own will, but the will of him who sent me.”

What are you saying? Do you have a will different from the Father’s? Yet in another place he says, “As I and you are one” — speaking of will and oneness of mind — “grant to these also that they may be one in us” (John 17, verse 21, not quoted word for word); that is, one in faith concerning us. Do you see that the words that seem most humble are the very ones that hide a lofty meaning? What he implies is something like this: not that the Father’s will is one thing and his own another, but “as one will is in one mind, so is my own will and my Father’s.”

And do not be surprised that he has claimed so close a union. Paul too used this illustration when speaking of the Spirit: “What man knows the things of a man except the spirit of the man that is in him? In the same way no one knows the things of God except the Spirit of God.” So Christ’s meaning is no other than this: “I do not have a will different from the Father’s and apart from it. If he desires anything, then so do I; if I do, then so does he. So just as no one could object to the Father judging, no one may object to me either, for the sentence of each of us is given from the same mind.”

And if he speaks these words rather as a man, do not be surprised, since they still took him for a mere man. So in passages like these we must not only look into the meaning of the words, but also take into account the suspicion of the hearers, and listen to what is said as spoken to that suspicion. Otherwise many difficulties will follow. Consider, for instance: he says, “I do not seek my own will.” By this reckoning, then, his will is different from the Father’s, and imperfect — and not merely imperfect, but even unprofitable.

For if that will saves, if it agrees with the Father’s, why do you not seek it? Mortals might reasonably say such a thing, because they have many wishes contrary to what pleases the Father. But you, who are like the Father in everything, why do you say this? No one would say that this is the language even of a man made perfect and crucified. For if Paul so blended himself with the will of God as to say, “I live, yet no longer I, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2, verse 20), how can the Lord of all say, “I do not seek my own will, but the will of him who sent me,” as though that will were a different one?

What, then, does he mean? He shapes his discourse as though the case were that of a mere man, and suits his language to the suspicion of his hearers. By what had gone before he had given proof of his sayings, speaking partly as God and partly as a mere man. Now, again as a man, he tries to establish the same thing, and says, “My judgment is just.” And how is this seen? “Because I do not seek my own will, but the will of him who sent me.” He says, in effect: “Among men, one who is free of self-interest cannot justly be charged with giving an unfair decision; and so you too will not be able to accuse me now. Someone who wants to advance his own interests may perhaps be suspected by many of corrupting justice for that purpose. But someone who does not look to his own, what reason could he have for not judging justly? Now apply this reasoning to my case. Had I said that I was not sent by the Father, had I not given him the glory for what was done, some of you might perhaps have suspected that I was saying what is not true because I wanted to win honor for myself. But if I credit and refer what is done to another, why and on what grounds can you suspect my words?”

Do you see how he confirmed his discourse, and asserted that “his judgment was just,” by an argument that any ordinary man might have used in his own defense? Do you see how clearly what I have often said comes to light? What is that? That the very great humility of these expressions most of all persuades people of good sense not to take the words at face value and then sink into low thoughts, but rather to work hard to reach the height of their meaning. And this same humility, with great ease, lifts up those who were once groveling on the ground.

So, keeping all this in mind, let us not, I urge you, pass carelessly over Christ’s words, but examine them all closely, everywhere considering the reason for what has been said. And let us not think that ignorance and simplicity will be enough to excuse us, for he has told us to be not only “innocent” but also “wise” (Matthew 10, verse 16). So let us practice wisdom along with simplicity, both in matters of doctrine and in the right conduct of our lives. Let us judge ourselves here, so that we are not condemned with the world hereafter. Let us treat our fellow servants as we want our Master to treat us, for we say, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors” (Matthew 6, verse 12).

I know that a wounded soul does not bear it gently. But if we consider that by forgiving we do a kindness not to the one who has hurt us but to ourselves, we will soon let go of the poison of our anger. The man who would not forgive the hundred denarii to the one who had wronged him did harm not to his fellow servant but to himself, for he made himself liable for the ten thousand talents he had already been forgiven (Matthew 18, verses 30 to 34). So when we do not forgive others, we do not forgive ourselves. Let us not, then, only say to God, “Do not remember our offenses”; let each of us also say to himself, “Let us not remember the offenses our fellow servants have done against us.” For you are the first to give judgment on your own sins, and God judges after you. You lay down the law on forgiveness and punishment; you declare your own decision on these matters. And so whether God will remember or not rests with you.

That is why Paul tells us to “forgive, if anyone has a complaint against anyone” (Colossians 3, verse 13) — and not simply to forgive, but so that not even a remnant is left behind. For Christ not only did not make our sins public; he did not even remind us, the sinners, of them, or say, “You have offended in this and that.” He forgave them and wiped out the written record against us, not counting our offenses, as Paul too has declared (Colossians 2, verse 14). Let us do this too. Let us wipe everything done against us out of our minds. If the one who has hurt us has done us any good, let us count only that; but if he has done anything painful and hard to bear, let us throw it out and wipe it away, so that not a trace of it remains. And if he has done us no good at all, so much the greater will be the reward and the higher the credit that are ours if we forgive.

Others wipe away their sins by keeping vigil, by making the ground their bed, by countless hardships. But you, by an easier way — I mean by not remembering wrongs — can make all your offenses disappear. Why, then, do you turn the sword against yourself, as madmen and people out of their minds do, and banish yourself from the life to come, when you ought to use every means to reach it? For if this present life is so desirable, what can one say of that other life, from which pain and grief and mourning have fled away? There is no need there to fear death, or to imagine any end to those good things. Blessed, three times blessed — yes, and many times over — are those who enjoy that blessed rest; and wretched, three times wretched — yes, ten thousand times wretched — are those who have thrown themselves out of that blessedness.

Someone says: “And what is it that makes us enjoy that life?” Hear the Judge himself talking with a certain young man about this very thing. When the young man said, “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Matthew 19, verse 16), Christ went over the other commandments with him and ended with the love of one’s neighbor. Perhaps, like that rich man, some of my hearers will say: “We have kept these too. We have not robbed, or killed, or committed adultery.” Yet you certainly will not be able to say that you have loved your neighbor as you ought to have loved him. For if a man has envied another or spoken evil of him, if he has not helped him when he was wronged, or has not shared his possessions with him, then he has not loved him either. Now Christ commanded not only this, but something more besides. What is it? “Sell what you have,” he says, “and give to the poor; and come, follow me” (Matthew 19, verse 21) — calling our imitation of him in our actions “following” him.

What do we learn from this? First, that whoever does not have all these things cannot reach the first places in that rest. For after the young man had said, “All these things I have done,” Christ, as though something great were still lacking for him to be fully approved, replied, “If you want to be perfect, sell what you have and give to the poor; and come, follow me.” That, then, is the first thing we learn. The second is that Christ rebuked the man for his empty boast. For how could someone who lived in such abundance, and paid no attention to others living in poverty, love his neighbor? So on this point too he was not speaking the truth.

But let us do both the one and the other of these things. Let us be eager to empty out our possessions and to buy heaven. For men have often spent everything they owned for worldly honor — an honor that was to stay here below, and even here would not stay with them long. Many have been stripped of their high position long before their deaths, and others have often lost their lives because of it; and yet, though they know this, they spend everything for its sake. If people do so much for honor of this kind, what could be more wretched than we are, if for the sake of the honor that lasts and cannot be taken from us we will not give up even a little, nor share with others the things we will leave behind in a short time, while we are still here? What madness it must be to refuse, when it is in our power to give to others of our own free will, and so to take with us the things we will be stripped of even against our will!

If a man were being led to his death, and it were offered to him to give up all his goods and go free, we would think he had been done a favor. And shall we, who are being led along the road to the pit — shall we, when we are allowed to give up half and be free, prefer to be punished, and cling uselessly to what is not ours, even at the cost of losing what is? What excuse will we have, what claim to pardon, if, when so easy a road to life has been cut for us, we rush over cliffs and travel a path that profits nothing, robbing ourselves of everything both here and hereafter, when we might safely enjoy both? If we did not do so before, let us at least stop now. Let us come to ourselves and rightly manage the things of the present, so that we may easily receive the things to come, by 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.