Homily 86 — John 20, verses 10 to 23

“Then the disciples went away again to their own home. But Mary stood outside at the tomb, weeping.” [a]

Women are somehow full of feeling, and more inclined to pity. I say this so that you will not wonder how it could be that Mary wept bitterly at the tomb, while Peter was not affected that way at all. For “the disciples,” it says, “went away to their own home,” but she stood there shedding tears. That was because hers was a weaker nature, and she did not yet know the account of the resurrection accurately; whereas they had seen the linen cloths and believed, and went away to their homes in astonishment.

And why did they not go straight to Galilee, as they had been commanded before his suffering? Perhaps they were waiting for the others; and besides, they were still at the height of their amazement.

So these went their way, but she stood at the place. For, as I have said, even the sight of the tomb did much to comfort her. At any rate, you see her stooping down, to ease her grief still more, and wanting to see the place where the body had lain. And for this great zeal of hers she received no small reward. For what the disciples did not see, the woman saw first: angels sitting, one at the feet and the other at the head, in white. Even their clothing was full of radiance and joy.

The woman’s mind was not raised high enough to accept the resurrection from the evidence of the grave cloths, so something more takes place: she sees something more. She sees angels sitting in shining garments, to lift her for a while out of her passionate sorrow and to comfort her. They said nothing to her about the resurrection, yet she is gently led forward into this teaching. She saw faces bright and out of the ordinary; she saw shining garments; she heard a voice full of sympathy. For what does the angel say?

Verse 13: “Woman, why are you weeping?” [c]

By all these things, as though a door were being opened for her, she was led little by little to the knowledge of the resurrection. The way they were sitting also invited her to question them, for it showed that they knew what had happened. That is why they did not sit together either, but apart from each other. Since it was not likely that she would dare to question them straight away, they draw her into conversation both by questioning her and by the way they were sitting.

What, then, does she say? She speaks very warmly and lovingly: “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

What are you saying? Do you still know nothing about the resurrection? Are you still imagining him laid somewhere? Do you see how she had not yet taken in the lofty teaching?

Verse 14: “And when she had said this, she turned around.” And how does it follow that she turned around, when she had spoken to them and had not yet heard anything from them? I think that while she was speaking, Christ suddenly appeared behind her and struck the angels with awe. When they saw their Ruler, they at once showed by their bearing, their look, and their movements that they saw the Lord; and this drew the woman’s attention and made her turn around.

To them, then, he appeared in this way, but not so to the woman. So as not to terrify her at first sight, he appeared to her in a humbler, ordinary form, as is clear from her thinking he was the gardener. It was right to lead someone whose thoughts were still so low up to lofty things, not all at once, but gently. So he in turn asks her, verse 15: “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?”

This showed that he knew what she wanted to ask, and it led her to answer. The woman understood this. She does not mention the name of Jesus again, but answers as though her questioner knew what she was asking about: “Sir, if you have carried him away from here, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” [d]

Again she speaks of laying down, and taking away, and carrying, as though she were speaking of a corpse. But what she means is this: “If you people have carried him away from here for fear of the Jews, tell me, and I will take him.”

Great is the woman’s kindness and loving affection, but there is nothing lofty in her yet. So now he makes the matter plain to her, not by his appearance but by his voice. For just as he was at one time recognized by the Jews, and at another time went unnoticed though he was present, so too in speaking he made himself known when he chose. So it was when he said to the Jews, “Whom are you looking for?” They recognized neither his face nor his voice until he chose. And that was the case here too. He only called her by her name, reproaching and blaming her for entertaining such ideas about one who was alive.

But how was it that, verse 16, “she turned around, and said” — if he was speaking to her? It seems to me that after she had said, “Where have you laid him?”, she turned to the angels to ask why they were astonished. Then Christ, by calling her by name, turned her from them back to himself and revealed himself by his voice. For when he called her “Mary,” then she knew him. So the recognition came not by his appearance but by his voice. [e]

And if anyone asks, “How is it clear that the angels were struck with awe, and that this was why the woman turned around?”, he will have to ask here as well, “How is it clear that she wanted to touch him and fall at his feet?” Now just as this is clear from his saying, “Do not touch me,” so the other is clear from the Gospel’s saying that she turned around. But why did he say, verse 17, “Do not touch me”?

Some say that she was asking for spiritual grace, because she had heard him say when he was with the disciples, “If I go to the Father, I will ask him, and he will give you another Comforter” (John 14, verses 3 and 16). But how could she have heard this, when she was not present with the disciples? Besides, such an idea is far from the meaning here. And how could she ask for it, when he had not yet gone to the Father?

What, then, is the sense? I think she wanted to go on talking with him as before, and in her joy she saw nothing great in him, although he had become far more excellent in his flesh. So to lead her away from this idea, and so that she would speak to him with great awe — for from now on he does not appear so familiar even with the disciples as before — he raises her thoughts, so that she would give him more reverent attention.

To have said, “Do not come near me as you did before, for things are not as they were, and from now on I will not be with you in the same way,” would have been harsh and high-sounding. But the words, “I have not yet ascended to the Father,” though not painful to hear, were the words of one saying the same thing. For by saying, “I have not yet ascended,” he shows that he is hastening and pressing on toward that place; and that it was not right for one who was about to depart there, and no longer to keep company with people, to be regarded with the same feelings as before. And what follows shows that this is so.

“Go and tell the brothers that I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” [g]

Yet he was not going to do this at once, but after forty days. How, then, does he say it? He wants to raise their minds and to persuade them that he is departing into heaven. But the words “to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” belong to the plan of salvation, since the “ascending” also belongs to his flesh. For he is speaking these words to someone who had no lofty thoughts.

“Is the Father his, then, in one way, and ours in another?” Certainly he is. For if he is God of the righteous in a different way from the way he is God of other people, much more is this so in the case of the Son and us. Because he had said, “Tell the brothers,” he showed the difference, so that they would not imagine any equality from this. He was about to sit on his Father’s throne, but they were to stand by. So although in his existence in the flesh he became our brother, in honor he differed from us greatly — more than can even be told.

Verse 18: “So she goes, bringing this news to the disciples.” So great a good are perseverance and endurance. [i]

But how was it that they no longer grieved, now that he was about to depart, and did not speak as they had spoken before? At that earlier time they were affected in that way because they supposed he was about to die. But now that he had risen again, what reason did they have to grieve? Besides, Mary reported his appearing and his words, and these were enough to comfort them.

It was likely that when the disciples heard these things they would either not believe the woman, or, if they did believe her, would be grieved that he had not thought them worthy of the sight, even though he had promised to meet them in Galilee. So that they would not be unsettled by dwelling on this, he did not let a single day pass. He had brought them to a state of longing, through their knowing that he had risen and through what they heard from the woman. And when they were thirsting to see him, and were also very much afraid — which itself made their longing all the greater — then, when it was evening, he stood before them, and that in a very wonderful way.

And why did he appear in the “evening”? Because that was when they were likely to be most afraid. But the wonder is that they did not suppose him to be a ghost; for he came in “when the doors were shut,” and suddenly. The chief reason was that the woman had already produced great faith in them; besides, he showed them a face that was dear and gentle. He did not come by day, so that they might all be gathered together. For their amazement was great: he did not knock at the door, but all at once stood among them and showed them his side and his hands. At the same time he calmed their storm-tossed thoughts with his voice, saying, verse 19: “Peace be with you.”

That is, “Do not be troubled.” At the same time he was reminding them of the word he had spoken to them before the crucifixion, “My peace I leave with you” (John 14, verse 27); and again, “In me you have peace,” but “in the world you will have distress” (John 16, verse 33). [j]

Verse 20: “Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord.” Do you see his words ending in deeds? What he had said before the crucifixion — “I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one takes your joy from you” (John 16, verse 22) — he now carried out in deed. And all these things led them to a most exact faith.

Since they had a war with the Jews that knew no truce, he kept repeating, “Peace be with you,” giving them comfort to set against the war. And so this was the first word he spoke to them after the resurrection; which is also why Paul constantly says, “Grace to you and peace.” To the women he brings the good news of joy, because that sex was in sorrow and had received this as the first curse. So he brings good news suited to each: to the men, peace, because of their war; to the women, joy, because of their sorrow. Then, having put away everything painful, he tells of the triumphs of the cross; and these were the “peace.”

“Since, then, every obstacle has been removed,” he says, “and I have made my victory glorious, and everything has been accomplished” — then he says afterward, verse 21: “As my Father has sent me, so I send you.” [l]

“You face no difficulty, because of what has already happened, and because of the dignity of me who send you.”

Here he lifts up their souls and shows them what great grounds for confidence they have, since they were about to take up his work. And no longer does he appeal to the Father; with authority he gives them the power. For, verses 22 and 23: “He breathed on them, and said, Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you retain, they are retained.”

As a king sending out governors gives them power to throw people into prison and to release them from it, so in sending these out Christ invests them with the same power.

But how is it that he says, “If I do not go away, he will not come” (John 16, verse 7), and yet gives them the Spirit? Some say that he did not give them the Spirit, but by breathing on them made them fit to receive the Spirit. For if Daniel was afraid when he saw an angel, what would they not have suffered when they received that gift beyond words, unless he had first schooled them for it? That is why he did not say, “You have received the Holy Spirit,” but, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

Yet one would not be wrong to say that they did then receive some spiritual power and grace — not so as to raise the dead or to work miracles, but so as to forgive sins. For the gifts of the Spirit are of different kinds. That is why he added, “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven them,” showing what kind of power he was giving. But in the other case, after forty days, they received the power to work miracles. That is why he says, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses both in Jerusalem and in all Judea” (Acts 1, verse 8). And they became witnesses by means of miracles; for the grace of the Spirit is beyond words, and the gift takes many forms.

But this comes about so that you may learn that the gift and the power of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one. For things that seem to belong peculiarly to the Father are seen to belong also to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. Someone asks: “How is it, then, that no one comes to the Son ‘unless the Father draws him’?” (John 6, verse 44). Why, this very thing is shown to belong to the Son as well: “I am the way,” he says; “no one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14, verse 6). And notice that it belongs to the Spirit also; for “no one can call Jesus Christ Lord except by the Holy Spirit” (First Corinthians 12, verse 3). Again, we see that the apostles were given to the church at one time by the Father, at another by the Son, at another by the Holy Spirit, and that the “varieties of gifts” (First Corinthians 12, verse 4) belong to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Let us, then, do all we can to have the Holy Spirit with us, and let us treat with great honor those into whose hands his working has been entrusted. For great is the dignity of the priests. “Whose sins you forgive,” it says, “they are forgiven them.” That is why Paul too says, “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them” (Hebrews 13, verse 17). [o]

And hold them in the very highest honor. For you care about your own affairs, and if you manage them well, you give no account for others. But the priest, even if he orders his own life rightly, will go away with the wicked into hell if he does not take anxious care for yours — yes, and for that of everyone around him. And often, when he is not betrayed by his own conduct, he perishes because of yours, if he has not done his whole part rightly. So, knowing how great the danger is, give them a large share of your goodwill. Paul too hinted at this when he said, “For they keep watch over your souls” — and not simply that, but “as those who will give an account” (Hebrews 13, verse 17).

So they ought to receive great regard from you. But if you join the rest in trampling on them, your own affairs will not be in good condition either. For while the helmsman stays in good heart, the crew too will be safe; but if he is worn out by their abuse and their ill will toward him, he cannot keep watch as well or keep his skill, and without meaning to he throws them into countless disasters. So too the priest: if he enjoys honor from you, he will be able to order your affairs well; but if you throw them into dejection, you weaken their hands and make them, as well as yourselves, easy prey for the waves, however courageous they may be.

Consider what Christ says about the Jews: “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so whatever they tell you to do, do it” (Matthew 23, verses 2 and 3). Now we do not have to say, “The priests sit on Moses’ seat,” but “on Christ’s,” for they have received his teaching in succession. That is why Paul also says, “We are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading with you through us” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 20).

Do you not see how everyone bows to pagan rulers — often even people who are superior in family, in way of life, and in intelligence to those who judge them? Yet because of the one who gave them their office, they take none of these things into account, but respect the decision of their governor, whoever he may be who receives authority over them. Is there such fear, then, when a man appoints, and yet when God appoints, do we despise the one appointed, abuse him, and smear him with countless insults? Though we are forbidden to judge our brothers and sisters, do we sharpen our tongues against our priests? And how can this deserve any excuse, when we do not see the beam in our own eye, yet pry with bitter curiosity into the speck in someone else’s? Do you not know that by judging like this you make your own judgment harder?

I do not say this because I approve of those who exercise their priesthood unworthily. No, I greatly pity them and weep for them. Yet I do not grant on that account that it is right for them to be judged by those over whom they are set. And even if their life is much spoken against, you, if you pay attention to yourself, will not be harmed at all in the things God has entrusted to them.

For if he made a donkey speak, and bestowed spiritual blessings through a diviner, working through the foolish mouth and impure tongue of Balaam for the sake of the Jews who had sinned, much more will he, for the sake of you who are right-minded, do everything that is his and send the Holy Spirit, even if the priests are utterly vile. For the pure man does not draw down the Spirit by his own purity; it is grace that does it all. “For all things,” it says, “are for your sake, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas” (First Corinthians 3, verses 22 and 23).

For the things placed in the priest’s hands are God’s alone to give; and however far human wisdom may reach, it will prove inferior to that grace. I say this not so that we may order our own lives carelessly, but so that when some of those set over you live careless lives, you who are under them may not often heap up evil for yourselves.

But why do I speak of priests? Neither angel nor archangel can do anything with regard to what God gives. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit give out everything, while the priest lends his tongue and offers his hand. For it would not be just that those who come in faith to the symbols of their salvation should be harmed through another person’s wickedness.

Knowing all these things, let us fear God and hold his priests in honor, showing them every respect, so that for our own good deeds and for the regard we have shown them we may receive a great reward from God, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, dominion, and honor to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.