Homily 60 — John 10, verses 14 to 21

“I am the good Shepherd, and I know my sheep, and am known by my own. As the Father knows me, so I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.” [a]

It is a great thing, beloved, a great thing, to preside over a church. It calls for wisdom and courage as great as the kind Christ speaks of: that a man should lay down his life for the sheep, never leave them deserted or unprotected, and stand up to the wolf nobly. This is where the shepherd differs from the hired hand. The one always looks to his own safety and does not care about the sheep; the other always looks to the safety of the sheep and neglects his own.

So, having set out the marks of a shepherd, Christ has named two kinds of destroyers. One is the thief, who kills and steals. The other does not do these things, but when they are done he pays no attention and does nothing to stop them. By the first he points to Theudas and men like him; by the second he exposes the teachers of the Jews, who neither cared for nor gave a thought to the sheep entrusted to them. That is why Ezekiel long ago rebuked them and said, “Woe to you, shepherds of Israel! Do the shepherds feed themselves? Do the shepherds not feed the sheep?” (Ezekiel 34, verse 2, in the Greek Old Testament). But they did the opposite, which is the worst kind of wickedness and the cause of all the rest. That is why the Scripture says, “They have not brought back the strayed, nor sought the lost, nor bound up the broken, nor healed the sick, because they fed themselves and not the sheep” (Ezekiel 34, verse 4). As Paul too has declared in another passage, saying, “For all seek their own interests, not the things of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 2, verse 21); and again, “Let no one seek his own good, but each his neighbor’s” (First Corinthians 10, verse 24).

Christ sets himself apart from both. He sets himself apart from those who came to destroy by saying, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (verse 10). And he sets himself apart from those who did not care when the sheep were carried off by wolves, by never deserting them, but even laying down his life for them, so that the sheep would not perish. For when they wanted to kill him, he did not change his teaching or betray those who believed in him, but stood firm and chose to die. That is why he kept saying, “I am the good Shepherd.”

Then, because his words seemed to have no testimony to back them — for though “I lay down my life” was proved not long afterward, “that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” was to come to pass after they had departed from here, in the life to come — what does he do? He proves the one from the other: by giving up his mortal life he proves that he gives immortal life. As Paul also says, “If while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, will we be saved” (Romans 5, verse 10). And again in another place, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him freely give us all things?” (Romans 8, verse 32).

But why do they not now bring against him the charge they brought before, when they said, “You bear witness about yourself; your witness is not true” (John 8, verse 13)? Because he had often stopped their mouths, and because his miracles had made him bolder toward them.

Then, since he had said above, “And the sheep hear his voice, and follow him,” he adds something so that no one would say, “What, then, about those who do not believe?” Listen to what he adds: “And I know my sheep, and am known by my own.” As Paul declared when he said, “God has not rejected his people whom he foreknew” (Romans 11, verse 2); and Moses, “The Lord knew those who were his” (Second Timothy 2, verse 19; compare Numbers 16, verse 5). “Those,” he says, “I mean, whom he foreknew.”

Then, so that you would not think the measure of knowledge is equal, listen to how he puts the matter right by adding, “I know my sheep, and am known by my own.” But the knowledge is not equal. Where is it equal? In the case of the Father and me, for there, “As the Father knows me, so I know the Father.” If he had not wanted to prove this, why would he have added that phrase? Because he often ranked himself among the many, he added, “As the Father knows me, so I know the Father,” so that no one would think he knew the way a man knows. “I know him as exactly as he knows me.” That is why he said, “No one knows the Son except the Father, nor the Father except the Son” (Luke 10, verse 22), speaking of a distinct kind of knowledge, such as no one else can possess.

“I lay down my life.” He says this over and over, to show that he is no deceiver. So too the apostle, when he wanted to show that he was a genuine teacher and was arguing against the false apostles, made good his authority by his dangers and deaths, saying, “In floggings beyond measure, in deaths often” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 23). For to say, “I am light,” and, “I am life,” seemed arrogance to the foolish; but to say, “I am willing to die,” left no room for malice or envy. That is why they do not say to him, “You bear witness about yourself; your witness is not true.” For the words showed a very tender care for them, if indeed he was willing to give himself for the very people who would have stoned him. For this reason, too, he fittingly brings in mention of the Gentiles. [e]

Verse 16: “For I have other sheep too,” he says, “which are not of this fold; them also I must bring.”

Notice again: the word “must” here does not express compulsion; it declares something that will certainly come to pass. It is as though he had said: “Why are you amazed if these follow me, and if my sheep hear my voice? When you see others also following me and hearing my voice, then you will be more astonished still.” And do not be thrown into confusion when you hear him say, “which are not of this fold.” For the difference concerns the law only, as Paul also says, “Neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision” (Galatians 5, verse 6).

“Them also I must bring.” He shows that both these and those were scattered and mixed up and without shepherds, because the good Shepherd had not yet come. Then he announces in advance their future union: “There will be one fold.” Paul declared the same thing when he said, “To make in himself one new man out of the two” (Ephesians 2, verse 15).

Verse 17: “Therefore my Father loves me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it up again.”

What could be more full of love for humankind than this saying, if our Lord is to be loved on our account, because he dies for us? What then? Tell me, was he not loved in all the time before this? Did the Father only now begin to love him, and are we the causes of his love? Do you see how he stooped down to meet them? But what does he want to prove here? They had said that he was a stranger to the Father, and a deceiver, and had come to ruin and destroy. So he tells them: “If nothing else, this would persuade me to love you: that you are so loved by the Father that I too am loved by him because I die for you.” Besides this, he also wants to prove that other point: that he did not come to the deed unwillingly — for if unwillingly, how could what was done be a cause of love? — and that the Father knew this above all. And if he speaks as a man, do not be surprised. We have often stated the reason for this, and to say the same things again is superfluous and tiresome.

“I lay down my life, that I may take it up again.” Verse 18: “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again.”

Because they had often plotted to kill him, he tells them: “Unless I will it, your labor is wasted.” And by the first he proves the second: by the death, the resurrection. For this is the strange and wonderful thing, since both took place in a new way, beyond the ordinary course of things. But let us pay close attention to what he says: “I have power to lay down my life.” And who does not have “power to lay down his life”? It is in the power of anyone who wishes to kill himself. But that is not what he means. What, then? “I have the power to lay it down in such a way that no one can bring this about against my will.” And this is a power that does not belong to human beings. We have no power to lay down our life in any other way than by killing ourselves. And if we fall into the hands of men who plot against us and have the power to kill us, we are no longer free to lay it down or not; they take it from us even against our will. This was not the case with Christ. Even when others plotted against him, he had power not to lay it down.

So, having said, “No one takes it from me,” he adds, “I have power to lay down my life,” that is, “I alone decide whether to lay it down” — something that does not rest with us, for many others are able to take it from us. He did not say this at the start, since the claim would not have seemed believable. But once he had the testimony of the facts — when they had often plotted against him and had not been able to lay hands on him, for he escaped from their hands ten thousand times — then he says, “No one takes it from me.” But if this is true, the other point follows: that he came to death willingly. And if this is true, the next point is certain too: that he can “take it up again” when he wills. For if the dying was something greater than a man could do, doubt no longer about the rest. The fact that he alone was able to let go of his life shows that he was able, by the same power, to take it up again. Do you see how he proved the second from the first, and from his death showed that his resurrection was beyond dispute?

“This command I received from my Father.”

What command was this? To die for the world. Did he, then, wait first to hear it and then choose? Did he need to learn it? Who with any sense would say so? But just as earlier, when he said, “Therefore my Father loves me,” he showed that the first move was his own free choice and removed all suspicion of opposition to the Father, so here, when he says he received a command from the Father, he declares nothing more than this: “What I am doing seems good to him.” He said it so that when they killed him, they would not think they had killed him as one deserted and given up by the Father, and would not taunt him as they did: “He saved others; himself he cannot save,” and, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Matthew 27, verses 42 and 40). Yet the very reason he did not come down was that he was the Son of God.

Then, so that on hearing, “I have received a command from the Father,” you would not think the achievement was not his own, he said beforehand, “The good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” By this he showed that the sheep were his, that everything that took place was his own achievement, and that he needed no command. For if he had needed a command, how could he have said, “I lay it down of myself”? He who lays it down of himself needs no command. He also gives the reason he does this. And what is it? That he is the Shepherd, and the good Shepherd. The good shepherd needs no one to rouse him to his duty; and if this is so with a man, much more is it so with God. That is why Paul said that “he emptied himself” (Philippians 2, verse 7). So the “command” here means nothing else than to show his oneness of mind with the Father. And if he speaks in so humble and human a way, the cause is the weakness of his hearers. [h]

Verses 19 to 21: “So there was a division among the Jews. And some said, ‘He has a demon, and is mad.’ Others said, ‘These are not the words of one who has a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?’”

Because his words were beyond what belongs to a man, and not of the common sort, they said he had a demon, calling him so now for the fourth time. Earlier they had said, “You have a demon! Who is seeking to kill you?” (John 7, verse 20); and again, “Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?” (John 8, verse 48); and here, “He has a demon, and is mad; why do you listen to him?” Or rather we should say that he heard this not for the fourth time, but often. For to ask, “Are we not right in saying that you have a demon?” is a sign that they had said it not twice or three times, but many times.

“Others said, ‘These are not the words of one who has a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?’” Since they could not silence their opponents by words, they now brought proof from his works: “Certainly the words are not those of one who has a demon. But if you are not persuaded by the words, be put to shame by the works. For if they are not the acts of one who has a demon, and are beyond what belongs to a man, it is perfectly clear that they come from some divine power.” Do you see the argument? That his words were beyond what belongs to a man is plain from the Jews’ saying, “He has a demon.” That he did not have a demon, he showed by what he did.

What, then, did Christ do? He answered nothing to these things. Before, he had replied, “I do not have a demon”; but not now. Since he had given proof by his actions, from then on he held his peace. For those who said he was possessed by a demon, because of the very actions for which they ought to have admired him and thought him to be God, were not worthy of an answer. And what need was there of any further refutation from him, when they were opposing and refuting one another? So he was silent, and bore it all mildly. And he did so not for this reason only, but also to teach us all gentleness and patience.

Let us, then, imitate him. For not only did he hold his peace now, but he even came among them again, and when he was questioned he answered and showed them the things of his foreknowledge. Though he was called “demon-possessed” and “madman” by men who had received ten thousand benefits from him, and that not once or twice but many times, he not only refrained from avenging himself, but never stopped doing them good. Doing them good, do I say? He laid down his life for them, and while he was being crucified he spoke to his Father on their behalf. This, then, let us imitate too; for to be a disciple of Christ is to be gentle and kind. [i]

But where can this gentleness come to us from? From constantly reckoning up our sins, from mourning, from weeping. For a soul that lives in the company of so much grief cannot bear to be provoked or angered. Wherever there is mourning, there cannot be anger; where grief is, all anger is out of the way; where there is a broken spirit, there is no irritation. For the mind, when it is scourged by sorrow, has no leisure to be stirred up, but will groan bitterly, and weep more bitterly still.

I know that many laugh when they hear these things, but I will not stop lamenting for those who laugh. For the present is a time for mourning and wailing and lamentation, since we commit many sins in word and deed. Hell awaits those who commit such offenses, and the river seething with a roaring stream of fire, and banishment from the kingdom, which is the most grievous thing of all. When these things are threatened, tell me, do you laugh and carry yourself proudly? When your Lord is angry and threatening, do you stand there without a care, not afraid that by this you are fanning the furnace into a blaze for yourself? Do you not hear what he cries out every day? “You saw me hungry and gave me no food; thirsty, and you gave me no drink. Depart into the fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25). And these things he threatens every day.

But someone says, “I did give him food.” When, and for how many days? Ten or twenty? But he wants it not just for that length of time, but for as long as you spend on earth. For the virgins too had oil, yet not enough for their salvation. They too lit their lamps, and yet they were shut out of the bridal chamber — and rightly, since their lamps had gone out before the Bridegroom came. For this reason we need much oil, and abundant kindness. Listen at least to what the prophet says: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your great mercy” (Psalm 51, verse 1). So we must take pity on our neighbor in keeping with his great mercy toward us. For as we are toward our fellow servants, so will we find our Lord toward ourselves.

And what kind of mercy is “great”? When we give, not out of our surplus, but out of our own need. But if we do not give even out of our surplus, what hope will there be for us? Where will we find deliverance from those woes? Where will we be able to flee and find salvation? For if the virgins, after so many and such great labors, found no comfort anywhere, who will stand up for us when we hear those fearful words of the Judge himself, addressing and reproaching us: “I was hungry, and you gave me no food; for as you did not do it,” the Scripture says, “to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me”? He says this not only of his disciples, nor of those who have taken up the ascetic life, but of every believer. For such a person, even if he is a slave, or one of those who beg in the marketplace, yet if he believes in God, has every right to enjoy all our goodwill. And if we neglect him when he is naked or hungry, we will hear those words — and rightly so.

For what hard or burdensome thing has he asked of us? What is there that is not the very lightest and easiest? He does not say, “I was sick, and you did not heal me,” but, “and you did not visit me.” He does not say, “I was in prison, and you did not set me free,” but, “and you did not come to me.” So the easier the commands are, the greater the punishment for those who disobey.

For what is easier, tell me, than to walk out and go into a prison? And what is more pleasant? There you will see some in chains, others covered with filth, others with uncut hair and dressed in rags, others dying of hunger and running like dogs to your feet, others with their sides deeply furrowed, others just coming back in chains from the marketplace, where they beg all day and do not collect even what they need to live, and yet in the evening are required by those in charge of them to furnish that wicked and savage service. When you see all this, then even if you are like a stone, you will certainly be made kinder. Even if you live a soft and dissipated life, you will certainly become wiser when you see the nature of human affairs in other men’s misfortunes; for you will surely gain some idea of that fearful day and its varied punishments.

Turning these things over and considering them, you will certainly cast out both anger and pleasure and the love of worldly things, and you will make your soul calmer than the calmest harbor. And you will reason about that judgment seat, reflecting that if among men there is so much forethought, and order, and terror, and threatening, much more will there be with God. “For there is no authority except from God” (Romans 13, verse 1). He, then, who permits rulers to order these things so will much more do the same himself.

And certainly, if this fear did not exist, all would be lost, since even with such punishments hanging over them, there are many who go over to the side of wickedness. If you observe these things wisely, you will be more eager for almsgiving, and you will reap much pleasure, far greater than those who come away from the theater. For when they leave there, they are inflamed and burning with desire. Having watched those women flitting about the stage and received ten thousand wounds from them, they are in no better state than a tossing sea, as the image of the faces, the gestures, the speeches, the walk, and all the rest stands before their eyes and lays siege to their soul. [n]

But those who come out of a prison will suffer nothing of the kind; they will enjoy great calm and quiet. For the heartfelt sorrow that comes from the sight of the prisoners quenches all that fire. And if a prostitute, a loose woman, meets a man coming out from among the prisoners, she will do him no harm. For from then on he becomes, as it were, impossible to mold, and so he will not be caught in the nets of her face, because in place of that wanton face the fear of the judgment will then be set before his eyes. That is why the man who had gone through every kind of luxury said, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of mirth” (Ecclesiastes 7, verse 2). And so here you will show great wisdom, and there you will hear those words that are worth ten thousand blessings.

Let us not, then, neglect such a practice and occupation. Even if we cannot bring them food or help them by giving money, we will still be able to comfort them with our words and lift up their drooping spirits. We can help them in many other ways too, by talking with those who had them put in prison, and by making their keepers kinder; and we will certainly accomplish some good, whether small or great.

But if you say that the men there are neither respectable nor good nor gentle, but murderers, grave robbers, pickpockets, adulterers, men without self-control, full of many kinds of wickedness, by this you show me yet another pressing reason for spending time there. For we are not commanded to take pity on the good and punish the evil, but to show this kindness to all. “Be like my Father who is in heaven,” the Scripture says, “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). So do not bitterly accuse other people’s faults, and do not be a severe judge, but a mild and merciful one.

For we too, even if we have not been adulterers or grave robbers or pickpockets, have other offenses that deserve endless punishment. Perhaps we have called our brother “fool,” which makes ready the pit for us. We have looked at women with unchaste eyes, which amounts to outright adultery. And what is more grievous than all, we partake of the mysteries unworthily, which makes us guilty of the body and blood of Christ. So let us not be harsh investigators of other people’s conduct, but consider our own state; in this way we will give up this unkindness and cruelty.

Besides this, it may be said that we will find many good men there, often men worth as much as the whole city. Even that prison in which Joseph was held had many evil men in it; yet that righteous man was in charge of them all, and like the rest, his true character was hidden. He was worth as much as the whole land of Egypt, yet he lived in the prison, and not one of those inside knew him. So now too it is likely that there are many good and virtuous men there, though they are not visible to everyone; and the care you take of such men repays you for all your efforts on behalf of the whole.

Or if there are none such, even so your reward is great. For your Lord did not keep company only with the righteous while avoiding the unclean. He received with kindness both the Canaanite woman and the woman of Samaria, the abominable and impure. Another, too, who was a prostitute, on whose account the Jews reproached him, he both received and healed, and he allowed his feet to be washed by the tears of that defiled woman, teaching us to stoop down to those who are in sin; for this above all is kindness.

What are you saying? Do robbers and grave robbers live in the prison? And tell me, are all who live in the city righteous men? Are there not many worse even than these, who rob with greater shamelessness? For the one sort, if they have no other excuse, at least put before themselves the cover of solitude and darkness, and do these things in secret. But the others throw away the mask and go after their wickedness openly, with heads uncovered, violent, grasping and greedy. It is hard to find a man clean of injustice.

Even if we do not seize gold by violence, or so many acres of land, we still bring about the same end by deceit and robbery in smaller matters, wherever we are able. For when we make contracts, or when we must buy or sell anything, and we haggle and struggle to pay less than the value, and do our utmost to have it so, is that action not robbery? Is it not theft and greed? Do not tell me that you have not seized houses or slaves. Injustice is judged not by the size of what is taken, but by the intention of those who commit the robbery. “Just” and “unjust” carry the same force in great things and in small. I call a pickpocket both the man who slits a purse and takes the gold and the man who, buying from one of the market people, knocks something off the proper price. Nor is the housebreaker only the one who digs through a wall and steals something inside; he is also the man who perverts justice and takes anything from his neighbor. [q]

Let us not, then, pass over our own faults and become judges of other people’s. When it is a time for kindness, let us not go searching out their wickedness; but considering what our own state once was, let us now be gentle and kind. What, then, was our state? Listen to Paul saying, “For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various cravings and pleasures, hateful, and hating one another” (Titus 3, verse 3); and again, “We were by nature children of wrath” (Ephesians 2, verse 3).

But God, seeing us shut up, as it were, in a prison and bound with heavy chains, far heavier than chains of iron, was not ashamed of us. He came and entered the prison, and though we deserved ten thousand punishments, he brought us out of it, brought us to a kingdom, and made us more glorious than heaven, so that we too might do the same as far as we are able. For when he says to his disciples, “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet; for I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you” (John 13, verse 14), he is writing this law not only about the washing of feet, but about all the other things he did for us.

Is it a murderer who lives in the prison? Even so, let us not grow weary of doing him good. Is it a grave robber, or an adulterer? Let us pity, not his wickedness, but his misfortune. But often, as I said before, one man will be found there worth ten thousand; and if you go to the prisoners continually, you will not miss so great a prize. For just as Abraham, by entertaining even ordinary guests, once met with angels, so we too will meet with great men, if we make the practice our business.

And if I may make a strange claim: the one who entertains a great man is not as worthy of praise as the one who receives the wretched and miserable. For the great man has, in his own way of life, no small means of being well treated; but the other, rejected and abandoned by everyone, has one harbor only, the pity of the one who helps him. So this above all is pure kindness. Moreover, the one who pays attention to an admired and famous man often does it to be seen by people; but the one who tends the downcast and despairing does it only because of God’s command. That is why, if we give a feast, we are told to invite the lame and the crippled; and if we do works of mercy, we are told to do them to the least and lowliest. “For,” the Scripture says, “as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me” (Matthew 25, verse 45).

Knowing, then, the treasure that is stored up in that place, let us go in continually and make it our business, and turn there the eagerness we have for the theaters. If you have nothing to give, give the comfort of your words. For God rewards not only the one who feeds, but also the one who goes in. When you go in and rouse the trembling and fearful soul, encouraging, helping, promising assistance, teaching it true wisdom, you will reap no small reward from it. If you were to speak this way outside the prison, many would even laugh, their minds scattered by too much luxury. But those in adversity, whose minds have been humbled, will listen to your words with gentle hearts, and praise them, and become better men. For even when Paul preached, the Jews often mocked him, but the prisoners listened in deep silence. Nothing makes the soul so ready for heavenly wisdom as misfortune and trial and the pressure of affliction.

Considering all these things, and how much good we will do both to those in the prison and to ourselves by mixing with them continually, let us spend there the time we used to spend in the marketplace and on untimely pursuits, so that we may both win them over and gladden ourselves, and, by causing God to be glorified, may obtain the everlasting blessings, 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, forever and ever. Amen.