Homily 74 — John 14, verses 8 to 14

“Philip says to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.’ Jesus says to him, ‘Have I been with you so long a time, and yet you have not known me, Philip? He who has seen me has seen the Father.’” [a]

The prophet said to the Jews, “You had the face of a prostitute; you were shameless toward everyone” (Jeremiah 3, verse 3, in the Greek Old Testament). Now it seems fitting to use this expression not only against that city, but against all who shamelessly set their faces against the truth. For when Philip said to Christ, “Show us the Father,” he replied, “Have I been with you so long a time, and you have not known me, Philip?” And yet there are some who, even after these words, separate the Father from the Son. What nearness do you want that is closer than this? Indeed, from this very saying some have fallen into the sickness of Sabellius. But let us leave both these and those, since they are caught in errors directly opposite to each other, and consider the exact meaning of the words.

“Have I been with you so long a time, and you have not known me, Philip?” he says. What then? Philip replies, “Are you the Father I am asking about?” And he says, “No.” That is why he did not say, “Have you not known him?” but “Have you not known me?” He is declaring nothing other than this: that the Son is nothing other than what the Father is, while still remaining a Son.

But how did Philip come to ask this question? Christ had said, “If you had known me, you would have known my Father also” (John 14, verse 7), and he had often said the same to the Jews. Peter and the Jews had often asked him, “Who is the Father?” Thomas had asked him too, and no one had learned anything clear; his words were still not understood. So Philip, so as not to seem persistent and to trouble him by asking in his turn after the Jews, said, “Show us the Father,” and added, “and it is enough for us” — that is, “we ask nothing more.”

Yet Christ had said, “If you had known me, you would have known my Father also,” and he made the Father known through himself. But Philip reversed the order and said, “Show us the Father,” as though he knew Christ perfectly. Christ does not let this pass, but sets him on the right road, persuading him to gain the knowledge of the Father through himself. Philip, for his part, wanted to see the Father with these bodily eyes, having perhaps heard that the prophets “saw God.” But those cases, Philip, were God stooping down to meet them. That is why Christ said, “No one has ever seen God” (John 1, verse 18); and again, “Everyone who has heard and has learned from God comes to me” (John 6, verse 45); and, “You have never heard his voice or seen his form” (John 5, verse 37). And in the Old Testament: “No one shall see my face and live” (Exodus 33, verse 20).

What does Christ say? With strong reproof he says, “Have I been with you so long a time, and you have not known me, Philip?” He did not say, “Have you not seen me?” but “Have you not known me?” Philip might say, “Why do I want to learn about you? At the moment I am asking to see your Father, and you say to me, ‘Have you not known me?’” What connection, then, does this have with the question? A very close one indeed. For if he is what the Father is, while still remaining a Son, he has good reason to show in himself the one who begot him. Then, to distinguish the Persons, he says, “He who has seen me has seen the Father,” so that no one could claim that the same one is Father and the same one Son. For if he had been the Father, he would not have said, “He who has seen me has seen him.”

Why, then, did he not answer, “You are asking for impossible things, things not granted to human beings; this is possible to me alone”? Because Philip had said, “It is enough for us,” as though he knew Christ, Christ shows him that he had not even seen him. For he certainly would have known the Father, if he had been able to know the Son. That is why he says, “He who has seen me has seen the Father.”

“If anyone has seen me, he will also see him.” What he means is something like this: “It is not possible to see either me or him.” For Philip was seeking the knowledge that comes by sight; and since he thought he had seen Christ in that way, he wanted to see the Father in the same way. But Jesus shows him that he had not even seen him. And if anyone here calls knowledge “sight,” I do not contradict him, for “He who has known me,” says Christ, “has known the Father.” Yet he did not say that. Instead, wanting to establish that he is of one being with the Father, he declared, “He who knows my being knows the Father’s also.”

Someone says, “And what is this? The one who is acquainted with creation knows God too.” Yet everyone is acquainted with creation and has seen it, but not everyone knows God. Besides, let us consider what it is that Philip is seeking to see. Is it the Father’s wisdom? Is it his goodness? No, but the very thing that God is, his very being. It is to this that Christ answers, “He who has seen me.” Now the one who has seen the creation has not also seen the being of God. “If anyone has seen me, he has seen the Father,” he says. If he had been of a different being, he would not have spoken this way. But to put it in more physical terms: no one who does not know what gold is can make out the substance of gold in silver. For one nature is not shown by another.

That is why he rightly rebuked him, saying, “Have I been with you so long?” Have you enjoyed such teaching? Have you seen miracles done with authority, all of them works of God, such as the Father alone does — sins forgiven, secrets made known, death retreating, a creation made from earth — and have you not known me? It was because he was clothed with flesh that he said, “Have you not known me?”

“You have seen the Father; do not seek to see more, for in him you have seen me. If you have seen me, do not pry with curiosity, for in me you have also known him.” [g]

Verse 10: “Do you not believe that I am in the Father?” That is, “I am seen in that being.” “The words that I speak, I do not speak on my own.” Do you see how very near they are, and the proof that their being is one? “The Father who dwells in me, he does the works.”

How is it that, beginning with words, he comes to works? What would naturally have followed was for him to say, “The Father speaks the words.” But he sets down two things here, concerning both teaching and miracles. Or perhaps it was because the words too were works. How, then, does he do them? In another place he says, “If I do not do the works of my Father, do not believe me” (John 10, verse 37). How, then, does he say here that the Father does them? To show this same thing: that there is no gap between the Father and the Son. What he means is this: “The Father would not act in one way and I in another.” Indeed, in another place both he and the Father work: “My Father is working until now, and I am working” (John 5, verse 17). In the first passage he shows that the works are in no way different; in the second, that they are the very same. And if the obvious meaning of the words suggests humility, do not be surprised. For after first saying, “Do you not believe?” he then spoke this way, showing that he shaped his words to bring Philip to faith; for he walked in their hearts.

Verse 11: “Believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me.” “When you hear ‘Father’ and ‘Son,’ you ought not to look for anything further to establish that the relationship is one of being. But if this is not enough to prove to you that we are equal in dignity and of one being, you may learn it even from the works.” If the words “He who has seen me has seen my Father” had been spoken with respect to the works, he would not have said afterward, “Or else believe me for the sake of the works themselves.”

Then, to show that he is able to do not only these things but others much greater than these, he puts it in the strongest terms. For he does not say, “I can do greater things than these,” but, what was far more wonderful, “I can give to others too the power to do greater things than these.”

Verse 12: “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and he will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.” That is, “It is now left to you to work miracles, for I am going away.”

Then, when he had accomplished what his argument intended, he says, in verse 13: “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it, so that the Father may be glorified in me.” Do you see again that it is he who does it? “I,” he says, “will do it” — not “I will ask the Father,” but “so that the Father may be glorified in me.” In another place he said, “God will glorify him in himself” (John 13, verse 32), but here, “He will glorify the Father”; for when the Son appears with great power, the one who begot him will be glorified. But what does “in my name” mean? What the apostles said: “In the name of Jesus Christ, rise and walk” (Acts 3, verse 6). For all the miracles they did, he worked in them, and “the hand of the Lord was with them” (Acts 11, verse 21).

Verse 14: “I will do it,” he says. Do you see his authority? The things done by means of others he does himself; and has he no power for the things done by himself, unless the Father works in him? Who could say that? But why does he put this saying second? To confirm his own words, and to show that the earlier sayings were spoken by stooping down to meet them.

But “I am going to the Father” means this: “I will not perish, but will remain in my own proper dignity, and I am in heaven.” He said all this to comfort them. Since it was likely that they, not yet understanding his words about the resurrection, would imagine something grim, he promises in other words that he will give them such things, soothing them in every way and showing that he remains always — and not only remains, but will show even greater power.

Let us, then, follow him and take up the cross. For even if persecution is not here, the season for another kind of death is with us. “Put to death,” it says, “your members which are on earth” (Colossians 3, verse 5). Let us, then, quench craving, slay anger, abolish envy. This is “a living sacrifice” (Romans 12, verse 1). This sacrifice does not end in ashes, is not scattered in smoke, and needs neither wood nor fire nor knife. For it has both fire and a knife: the Holy Spirit. Using this knife, circumcise the excess and foreign part of your heart; open your closed-up ears. For vices and evil desires tend to block the way against the entrance of the word. [l]

The desire for money, when it is set before someone, does not let him hear the word about almsgiving. Malice, when it is present, raises a wall against the teaching about love. And some other sickness, falling on the soul in its turn, makes it duller still to everything. Let us, then, do away with these wicked desires. It is enough to have willed it, and all are quenched. For let us not, I beg you, dwell on this, that the love of wealth is a tyrant, but see that the tyranny is that of our own slackness of mind.

Many people, indeed, say that they do not even know what money is. For this desire is not a natural one. The natural ones were planted in us from the first, from the beginning; but as for gold and silver, for a long time no one even knew what they were. Where, then, did this desire grow from? From empty glory and extreme slackness of mind. For of desires, some are necessary, some natural, and some neither the one nor the other. For example, those which destroy the living creature if they are not satisfied are both natural and necessary, like the desire for food and drink and sleep. Sexual desire is natural but not necessary, for many have mastered it and have not died. But the desire for wealth is neither natural nor necessary, but superfluous; and if we choose, we need not let it begin at all. At any rate, Christ, speaking of virginity, says, “He who is able to receive it, let him receive it” (Matthew 19, verse 12). But about riches he does not speak so. How, then?

“Unless a man forsakes all that he has, he is not worthy of me” (Luke 14, verse 33). What was easy he required; what goes beyond most people he leaves to choice. Why, then, do we rob ourselves of every excuse? The man who is taken captive by some more tyrannical passion will not suffer heavy punishment; but the one who is overcome by a weak one is stripped of every defense. For what will we answer when he says, “You saw me hungry and did not feed me” (Matthew 25, verse 42)? What excuse will we have? We will surely plead poverty. Yet we are not poorer than that widow who, by throwing in two small coins, outdid all the rest. For God does not ask for the amount of the offering but for the measure of the mind behind it; and that he does so comes from his tender care.

Let us, then, admiring his love for humankind, contribute what is in our power, so that, having obtained God’s love for humankind in abundance both in this life and in the life to come, we may be able to enjoy the good things promised to us, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.