Homily 87 — John 20, verse 24, to 21, verse 14

“But Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said, ‘Unless I see in his hands … I will not believe.’” [a]

To believe carelessly and at random comes from too easygoing a temper; but to be curious and meddlesome beyond measure is the mark of a mind of the coarsest kind. That is why Thomas is blamed. He did not believe the apostles when they said, “We have seen the Lord” — not so much because he distrusted them, as because he thought the thing itself impossible, that is, the resurrection from the dead. For he does not say, “I do not believe you,” but, “Unless I put my hand … I do not believe.”

But how was it that when all of them were gathered together, he alone was away? Probably after the scattering that had taken place a little before, he had not come back even then. But when you see the disciple’s unbelief, consider the Lord’s love for humankind: how for the sake of a single soul he showed himself with his wounds, and comes to save even the one, though he was coarser than the rest. That indeed is why Thomas looked for proof from the coarsest of the senses, and would not even trust his eyes. For he did not say, “Unless I see,” but, “Unless I handle,” for fear that what he saw might somehow be a ghost. Yet the disciples who told him these things deserved to be believed at the time, and so did the one who had made the promise. Still, since Thomas wanted more, Christ did not refuse him even this.

And why does he not appear to him at once, instead of “after eight days” (verse 26)? So that in the meantime, being taught over and over by the disciples and hearing the same thing again and again, he might be set on fire with a keener desire and be readier to believe afterward. But how did he know that Christ’s side had been opened? He had heard it from the disciples. How, then, did he partly believe and partly not believe? Because this thing was so very strange and wonderful. But notice, please, how truthful the disciples are. They hide no faults, their own or anyone else’s, but record them with complete honesty.

Jesus presents himself to them again. He does not wait to be asked by Thomas, or to hear anything of the kind; before Thomas had said a word, Jesus got in ahead of him and fulfilled his desire, showing that even when Thomas spoke those words to the disciples, he had been present. For he used the same words, and in a way that carried both a sharp rebuke and instruction for the future. Having said, Verse 27: “Reach your finger here, and see my hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into my side,” he added, “And do not be unbelieving, but believing.”

Do you see that his doubt came from unbelief? But that was before he had received the Spirit. After that it was no longer so; from then on they were made complete.

And Jesus did not rebuke him in this way only, but also by what follows. For when Thomas, fully satisfied, breathed freely again and cried out, Verse 28: “My Lord and my God!” — he says, Verse 29: “Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed.”

For this is what belongs to faith: to accept things not seen. As it says, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11, verse 1). And here he calls blessed not only the disciples, but also those who would believe after them. But someone says: “Yet the disciples saw, and believed.” Yes, but they asked for nothing of the kind. From the evidence of the grave cloths they at once accepted the word about the resurrection, and before they saw the body they showed complete faith. So when anyone today says, “I wish I had lived in those times, and seen Christ working miracles,” let him reflect: “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed.”

It is worth asking how a body no longer subject to decay showed the marks of the nails, and could be touched by a mortal hand. But do not be troubled: what took place was an act of his stooping down to meet them. For a body so fine and light that it could come in when the doors were shut was free of all density. But this wonder was shown so that the resurrection might be believed, and so that people might know that it was the Crucified One himself, and that no one else had risen in his place. That is why he rose bearing the marks of the cross, and that is why he eats. The apostles, at any rate, everywhere made this a sign of the resurrection, saying, “We, who ate and drank with him” (Acts 10, verse 41). So, just as when we see him walking on the waves before the crucifixion we do not say that his body is of a different nature, but that it is of our own, so after the resurrection, when we see him with the marks of the nails, we will not go on to say that he is therefore still subject to decay. For he showed these things for the disciple’s sake.

Verse 30: “And truly Jesus did many other signs.”

Since this evangelist has recorded fewer than the others, he tells us that the others did not record them all either, but only as many as were enough to draw the hearers to faith. For, he says, “If they were written, every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books” (John 21, verse 25). From this it is clear that what they recorded they did not write for display, but only for what was useful. For how could those who left out the greater part have written the rest for display? But why did they not go through them all? Chiefly because of their number. Besides, they considered that someone who did not believe the ones they had recorded would pay no attention to a greater number, while someone who accepted these would need no others in order to believe. And here too he seems to me to be speaking, for the moment, of the miracles after the resurrection. That is why he says, “in the presence of his disciples.” [g]

For just as before the resurrection many had to be done so that they would believe he was the Son of God, so too after the resurrection, so that they would accept that he had risen. And he has added “in the presence of his disciples” for another reason as well: because after the resurrection he spoke with them alone. That is also why he said, “The world sees me no more” (John 14, verse 19). Then, so that you may understand that what was done was done only for the disciples’ sake, he added, Verse 31: “That believing, you might have life in his name.”

Here he is speaking to all people in general, and showing that the very great favor we do by believing is done not to the one we believe in, but to ourselves. “In his name” means “through him,” for he is the Life.

Chapter 21, verse 1: “After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.”

Do you see that he does not stay with them continually, or as he did before? He appeared, for example, in the evening, and flew away; then after eight days once more, and again flew away; then after these things by the sea, and again with great terror. But what does “showed himself” mean? It makes clear that he was not seen unless he stooped down to be seen, because from then on his body was not subject to decay, and was of a purity with nothing mixed into it. But why has the writer mentioned the place? To show that Christ had by now taken away most of their fear, so that they were venturing out of their lodging and going about everywhere. They were no longer shut up at home, but had gone into Galilee, avoiding the danger from the Jews. So Simon comes to fish. Since Christ was not with them continually, and the Spirit had not yet been given, and they had not yet been entrusted with anything, they had nothing to do, and so they went back to their trade.

Verse 2: “There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas, and Nathanael” — the one called by Philip — “and the sons of Zebedee, and two others.”

Having nothing to do, then, they went to their fishing, and they did it by night, because they were very much afraid. Luke also mentions such a catch, but that is not the same occasion; it is a different one. And the other disciples went along, because from then on they were bound to one another, and at the same time they wanted to watch the fishing and put their free time to good use. While they were laboring and worn out, Jesus presents himself to them, and does not reveal himself at once, so that they would enter into conversation with him. So he says to them, Verse 5: “Do you have any food?”

For the moment he speaks in a rather human way, as though he meant to buy something from them. But when they signaled that they had none, he told them to cast their nets on the right side, and when they cast them they made a catch. And when they recognized him, the disciples Peter and John again showed the particular marks of their characters. The one was more fervent, the other more lofty; the one quicker, the other more clear-sighted. That is why John was the first to recognize Jesus, and Peter the first to go to him.

For the signs that had taken place were no ordinary ones. What were they? First, that so many fish were caught; then, that the net did not break; then, that before they came ashore a charcoal fire was found there, with fish laid on it, and bread. For he no longer made things out of matter already in existence, as he had done before the crucifixion by a certain arrangement. So when Peter recognized him, he threw everything down, fish and nets alike, and tied his garment around him. Do you see his reverence and his love? They were only about three hundred feet off; but not even so could Peter wait to come to him in the boat, but reached the shore by swimming. What, then, does Jesus do?

Verse 12: “Come,” he says, “and eat.” “And none of them dared to ask him.” For they no longer had the same freedom with him, and they were not as confident; they no longer came up to him with words, but sat down in silence, with great fear and reverence, giving him their full attention.

“For they knew that it was the Lord.”

And that is why they did not ask him, “Who are you?” But seeing that his form had changed and was full of great awe, they were deeply amazed, and wanted to ask something about it. But fear, and their knowing that he was not someone else but the same one, held back the question, and they only ate what he had created for them, with a greater exercise of power than before. For here he no longer looks up to heaven, or does those human things, showing that even those things he did before were done by way of stooping down to meet them. And to show that he did not stay with them continually, or in the same way as before, it says, Verse 14: “This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to them after he had risen from the dead.”

And he tells them to “bring some of the fish,” to show that what they saw was no mere appearance. Here, it is true, the Gospel does not say that he ate with them; but Luke says in another place that he did, for “he was eating together with them” (Acts 1, verse 4). But the “how” is not ours to say. These things happened in too strange a manner for that — not as though his nature now needed food, but as an act of stooping down to meet them, to prove the resurrection.

Perhaps when you heard these things you glowed, and called those who were with him then blessed, and those who will be with him on the day of the general resurrection. Let us, then, make every effort to see that wonderful face. For if just hearing about it now makes us burn like this, and long to have lived in the days he spent on earth, to have heard his voice and seen his face, to have come near him and touched him and served him — think what a great thing it is to see him no longer in a mortal body, or doing human things, but with angels as his bodyguard, while we ourselves are in a form of unmixed purity, beholding him and enjoying the rest of that blessedness which passes all words. So, I beg you, let us use every means not to miss such glory. For nothing is difficult if we are willing, and nothing burdensome if we pay attention. “If we endure, we will also reign with him” (Second Timothy 2, verse 12). [n]

What, then, does “If we endure” mean? If we bear distress, if persecutions, if we walk the narrow and hard way. For the narrow way is laborious by its nature, but our will makes it light, through the hope of what is to come. “For our light affliction of the present moment is working for us an eternal weight of glory, beyond all measure, while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen” (Second Corinthians 4, verses 17 and 18).

So let us turn our eyes to heaven, and continually imagine “those” things, and gaze at them. If we always spend our time with them, we will not be moved to desire the pleasures of this world, nor find its sorrows hard to bear. We will laugh at these and things like them, and nothing will be able to enslave us or puff us up, if only we direct our longing there and look to that love. And why do I say that we will not grieve at present troubles? From then on we will not even seem to see them. Such is strong desire. Those who are not with us now, for example, but are loved while they are away — we picture them every day. For the rule of love is mighty: it draws the soul away from everything else and chains it to what it longs for. If we love Christ like this, everything here will seem a shadow, an image, a dream. We too will say, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will distress, or anguish?” (Romans 8, verse 35).

He did not say “money, or wealth, or beauty” — these are very petty and contemptible — but he has put down the things that seem hard to bear: famines, persecutions, deaths. He spat even on these, as nothing. But we, for the sake of money, separate ourselves from our life and cut ourselves off from the light. Paul would not put “death, nor life, nor things present, nor things to come, nor any other created thing” ahead of the love he has for Christ; but we, if we see a little bit of gold, are set on fire and trample on his laws.

And if these things are unbearable to hear spoken of, they are much more so when they are done. For this is the terrible thing: we shudder to hear, but do not shudder to do. We swear readily and perjure ourselves; we plunder and charge interest; we care nothing for sober living; we give up any care in prayer; we break most of the commandments; and for the sake of money we make no account of our own members. For the one who loves wealth will do countless harms to his neighbor, and to himself as well. He will easily grow angry with his neighbor, and revile him, and call him a fool, and swear and perjure himself; he does not even keep within the limits of the old law. For the one who loves gold will not love his neighbor; yet we are commanded, for the kingdom’s sake, to love even our enemies. Now if we will not be able to enter the kingdom of heaven by keeping the old commandments unless our righteousness goes beyond them and surpasses them, what excuse will we have when we break even these? The one who loves money not only will not love his enemies, but will even treat his friends as enemies.

But why do I speak of friends? Lovers of money have often disregarded nature itself. Such a man does not know his relatives, does not remember old companionship, does not respect age, has no friend. He will be ill-disposed toward everyone, and above all toward himself — not only by destroying his soul, but by tormenting himself with countless cares and toils and sorrows. He will put up with journeys abroad, hatreds, dangers, plots, anything at all, just so that he may have in his house the root of all evil, and count up a great deal of gold. [r]

What, then, could be more grievous than this disease? It has no luxury or pleasure in it, the things for whose sake people often sin; it has no honor or glory. For the lover of money suspects that he has countless enemies, and he really does have many, who accuse him, envy him, slander him, and plot against him. Those he has wronged hate him because they were ill-treated. Those who have not yet suffered, afraid that they may suffer, and feeling for those who have, show the same hostility. And the greater and more powerful, stung and indignant on behalf of the humbler people, and at the same time envying him, are his enemies and hate him.

And why do I speak of people? When a man has made God his enemy as well, what hope will there be for him then? What consolation? What comfort? The one who loves riches will never be able to use them; he will be their slave and their guard, not their master. Always anxious to make them more, he will never be willing to spend them. He will stint himself and live more poorly than any poor man, since his desire never comes to a stop anywhere. Yet riches are made not for us to keep but for us to use. If we are going to bury them for others, what could be more wretched than we are, running about wanting to gather up everyone’s possessions, only to shut them up inside and cut them off from common use?

But there is another disease no less than this. Some people bury their money in the ground; others bury it in their stomachs, in pleasure and drunkenness, so that on top of their injustice they bring on themselves the punishment for loose living as well. Some spend their wealth on hangers-on and flatterers, others on dice and prostitutes, others on various expenses of the same kind, cutting for themselves countless roads that lead to hell, while leaving the right and approved road that leads to heaven. And yet that road brings not only greater gain, but greater pleasure than the things we have mentioned.

For the man who gives to prostitutes is ridiculous and disgraced; he will have many quarrels, and a brief pleasure — or rather, not even brief, because whatever he gives to the women who are his mistresses, they will not thank him for it. For “another’s house is a cask full of holes” (Proverbs 23, verse 27, in the Greek Old Testament). Besides, that kind of person is shameless, and Solomon compared their love to the grave; they stop only when they see their lover stripped of everything. Or rather, such a woman does not stop even then, but dresses herself up all the more, tramples on him when he is down, makes him a great laughingstock, and does him more harm than words can even describe.

Such is not the pleasure of those who are saved. For no one there has a rival; everyone rejoices and is glad, both those who receive the blessings and those who look on. No anger, no dejection, no shame, no disgrace besieges the soul of such a man. Great is the gladness of his conscience, and great his hope of what is to come; bright is his glory, and great his distinction; and above all there is the favor and the safety that come from God. There is not one cliff edge, not one suspicion, but a harbor without waves, and calm.

So, considering all these things, and weighing pleasure against pleasure, let us choose the better, so that we may obtain the good things to come, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.