Homily 24 — Matthew 7, verses 21 to 27

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” [a]

Why did he not say, “but the one who does my will”? Because for the time being it was a great gain for them to accept even this first. Indeed it was a very great gain, considering how weak they were. Besides, by the one he pointed to the other as well. And along with this it may also be said that in fact the Son has no other will than the Father’s.

Here he seems to me to be rebuking the Jews above all, since they laid the whole weight on doctrines and took no care over how they lived. Paul also blames them for this, when he says, “Look, you call yourself a Jew, and rely on the law, and boast in God, and know his will.” But you gain nothing by it, as long as it is not shown in your life and your works.

But he himself did not stop there. He went on to say something much stronger: “Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name?’” His meaning is this: “It is not only the one who has faith who is thrown out of heaven if he neglects his life. Even if, besides his faith, he has worked many signs, yet if he has done nothing good, this man too is shut out just the same from that sacred entrance.” “For many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name?’” Do you see how, now that he has finished his whole exhortation, he quietly brings himself in here too, and afterward as well? How he implies that he himself is the judge? In what came before he showed that punishment awaits those who sin; now he goes on to reveal who it is that punishes.

He did not say openly, “I am he,” but, “Many will say to me,” proving the same thing once again. For if he were not the judge, how could he have said to them, “And then I will declare to them, ‘Depart from me; I never knew you’”?

“Not only at the time of the judgment,” he says, “but not even back then, when you were working miracles.” That is why he also said to his disciples, “Do not rejoice that the demons are subject to you, but that your names are written in heaven.” And everywhere he bids us take great care over our way of life. For a person who lives rightly and is free of all the passions can never be overlooked. Even if he happens to be in error, God will quickly draw him over to the truth.

But some people say, “They were lying when they said this,” and that is how they explain why such people are not saved. But then his conclusion would come out the opposite of what he intends. For surely his intention is to show that faith is of no use without works. Then, heightening the point, he added miracles as well, declaring that not only faith, but even the working of miracles, is of no use to someone who does such wonders without virtue. Now if they had not worked them, how could this point have been made here? Besides, they would not have dared, once the judgment had come, to say these things to his face. Their very reply, too, and the fact that they speak in the form of a question, implies that they had worked them. I mean that here they had been admired by everyone for their miracles; there they see the end turn out the opposite of what they expected, and find nothing but punishment waiting for them. So, amazed and bewildered, they say, “Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? How then can you turn away from us now? What does this strange and unexpected end mean?”

They marvel that they are punished after working such miracles; but you must not marvel. All that grace came as a free gift from the one who gave it, and they contributed nothing of their own. That is exactly why they are justly punished: they were ungrateful and unfeeling toward the one who honored them so highly as to give them his grace, though they were unworthy. [c]

“What, then? Did they do such things while practicing lawlessness?” Some indeed say that it was not at the time they did these miracles that they also practiced lawlessness, but that they changed afterward, and did their lawless deeds then. But if that is so, then once again the point he is working to make is not established. For what he took pains to show is this: that neither faith nor miracles are of any use where right conduct is missing. Paul said the same: “Though I have faith, so that I could move mountains, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and have not love, I am nothing.” “Who, then, are these men?” Many of those who believed received gifts — like the man who was casting out demons and was not with him, and like Judas; for even he, wicked as he was, had a gift. In the Old Testament too you can find this: grace has often worked through unworthy people, so that it might do good to others. Not everyone was fitted for everything. Some lived a pure life but did not have great faith, and others were just the opposite. So by these sayings he urges the first to show great faith, while the others, too, he was calling by this gift of his beyond words to become better people. That is why he gave that grace in such great abundance. “We did many mighty works,” they say. But “then I will declare to them, ‘I did not know you.’” “For now, indeed, they suppose they are my friends. But then they will learn that it was not as friends that I gave to them.”

And why marvel that he gave gifts to people who believed in him, though their life did not match their faith, when he is unquestionably found at work even in those who had fallen away from both? Balaam was a stranger both to faith and to a truly good life; nevertheless grace worked in him for the service of other people. Pharaoh too was of the same sort, and yet even to him God revealed what was to come. Nebuchadnezzar was full of wickedness, and yet to him too God revealed what would follow after many generations. And again to that king’s son, though he went beyond his father in wickedness, God revealed what was to come, carrying out a great and marvelous arrangement. So because at that time too the beginnings of the good news were taking place, and its power needed to be shown in abundance, many even of the unworthy used to receive gifts. Yet those miracles brought them no gain; rather, they are punished all the more. That is why he spoke to them even that fearful saying, “I never knew you.” For there are many whom he already hates even here, and from whom he turns away even before the judgment.

So let us be afraid, beloved, and let us take great care over our life. And let us not think ourselves worse off because we do not work miracles now. Working them will never be any advantage to us, just as not working them will be no disadvantage, if we take care to practice every virtue. For the miracles, it is we who are in debt; but for our life and our deeds, we have God in our debt.

He has now, you see, finished everything. He has spoken precisely about all virtue, and exposed its pretenders of every kind — both those who fast and pray for show, and those who come in the sheep’s hide — and also those who ruin it, whom he called pigs and dogs. Now he goes on to show how great the profit of virtue is even here, and how great the harm of wickedness, by saying, “Everyone, then, who hears these sayings of mine and does them will be likened to a wise man.” [e]

It is as if he said: “You have heard what those who do not obey will suffer, even though they work miracles. But you should also know what those who obey all these sayings will enjoy — not only in the world to come, but even here.” “For everyone,” he says, “who hears these sayings of mine and does them will be likened to a wise man.”

Do you see how he varies his words? At one time he says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’” and so reveals himself; at another, “the one who does the will of my Father”; and again he brings himself in as judge: “For many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name?’ and I will say, ‘I do not know you.’” And here again he shows that he has power over all, which is why he said, “Everyone who hears these sayings of mine.”

All his teaching so far had been about the future: a kingdom, a reward beyond words, comfort, and the like. Now he wants to give them its fruits from the things here as well, and to show how great the strength of virtue is even in the present life. What, then, is this strength of hers? To live in safety; not to be easily overcome by any terror; to stand above all who mistreat us. What can equal this? Not even the man who wears the diadem can secure it for himself; only the one who pursues virtue can. For he alone has it in full abundance: amid the ebb and flow of present things he enjoys a great calm. And the truly marvelous thing is this: not in fair weather, but when the storm is violent, the turmoil great and the trials unceasing, he cannot be shaken in the least.

“For the rain came down,” he says, “the floods came, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.” By “rain,” “floods” and “winds” he is speaking figuratively of the disasters and afflictions that come upon people: false accusations, plots, bereavements, deaths, the loss of friends, harassment from strangers, all the ills of our life that anyone could name. “But to none of these does such a soul give way; and the reason is that it is founded on the rock.” He calls the firmness of his teaching a rock, because in truth his commands are stronger than any rock, and set a person above all the waves of human affairs. For whoever keeps these things strictly will get the better not only of people when they harass him, but even of the demons themselves when they plot against him. And that this is no empty boast, Job is our witness: he received all the devil’s assaults and stood unmoved. The apostles too are our witnesses. When the waves of the whole world were beating against them — when nations and rulers, their own people and strangers, the evil spirits and the devil, and every device there is were set in motion — they stood firmer than a rock, and scattered it all.

Now what can be happier than this kind of life? Not wealth, not bodily strength, not glory, not power, nor anything else will be able to secure it; only the possession of virtue. For there is not — no, there is not — any other life we may find free from all evils, but this one alone. You yourselves are witnesses, you who know the plots in the courts of kings, and the turmoil and troubles in the houses of the rich. But among the apostles there was nothing of the kind.

What, then? Did nothing of the sort happen to them? Did they suffer no harm at anyone’s hand? On the contrary, this is the marvel above everything: they were indeed the target of many plots, and many storms burst on them, yet their soul was not overturned by them or driven to despair. With naked bodies they wrestled, they prevailed, and they triumphed.

So you too, if you are willing to carry out these things exactly, will laugh every ill to scorn. Yes, if you are strengthened with the philosophy in these commands, nothing will be able to hurt you. For how can the one who means to plot against you harm you? Will he take away your money? But before he ever threatened you, you were commanded to despise it, and to keep so far from it that you do not even ask your Lord for any such thing. Does he throw you into prison? But before your prison you were told to live so as to be crucified to the whole world. Does he speak evil of you? From this pain too Christ has set you free, by promising you a great reward, without toil, for bearing evil, and by making you so free of the anger and resentment that come from it that he even commands you to pray for them. Does he banish you and entangle you in countless ills? Well, he is making your crown more glorious. Does he destroy you and murder you? Even by this he does you the greatest good: he wins you the martyrs’ rewards, brings you more quickly into the harbor where no storm reaches, gives you grounds for a richer recompense, and arranges for you to make a profit out of the penalty that all must pay. And this is the most marvelous thing of all: those who plot, far from doing any harm, instead make the objects of their spite all the more approved. What can be compared with this — I mean, with choosing this way of life and no other?

He had called the way narrow and hard. So, to ease our labors from this side too, he shows that its security is great and its pleasure great, just as the opposite course is deeply unsound and ruinous. For as he showed that virtue has her rewards even from the things here, so he showed that vice has her penalties. What I am always saying I will say now too: in both ways, everywhere, he is working for the salvation of his hearers — on the one hand by zeal for virtue, on the other by hatred of vice. Since there would be some who admired what he said and yet gave no proof of it in their works, he awakens their fear in advance, saying in effect: “Though what I have said is good, hearing it is not enough for safety. There must also be obedience in actions, and the whole matter lies chiefly in this.” And here he ends his teaching, leaving their fear at its height.

With virtue, he urged them on not only from the things to come — speaking of a kingdom, and of heaven, and a reward beyond words, and comfort, and countless good things — but also from things present, pointing to the firm and immovable quality of the rock. So also with wickedness, he rouses their fear not only from what is still expected — the tree that is cut down, the fire that is never put out, not entering the kingdom, and his saying, “I do not know you” — but also from things present: I mean the collapse described in what is said of the house.

That is why he made his argument more vivid by setting out its force in a parable. For it was not the same thing to say, “The virtuous man will be impregnable, but the wicked easily overcome,” as to picture a rock, and a house, and rivers, and rain, and wind, and the rest. [i]

“And everyone,” he says, “who hears these sayings of mine and does not do them will be likened to a foolish man, who built his house on the sand.”

And he was right to call this man “foolish.” For what could be more senseless than to build a house on the sand — to take on the labor, and then rob yourself of its fruit and comfort, and suffer punishment instead? For it is surely plain to everyone that those who pursue wickedness also labor. The robber, the adulterer and the false accuser all toil and wear themselves out to carry their wickedness through; yet, far from reaping any profit from these labors of theirs, they suffer great loss instead. Paul too pointed to this when he said, “The one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption.” Those who build on the sand are like this man too: those given over to sexual immorality, to loose living, to drunkenness, to anger, and to all the rest.

Ahab was that kind of man, but Elijah was not — for when we have set virtue and vice side by side, we will know the difference more exactly. Elijah had built on the rock, Ahab on the sand. That is why, king though he was, Ahab feared and trembled before the prophet, a man who had nothing but his sheepskin. The Jews were that kind, but the apostles were not. And so the apostles, though few and in chains, showed the firmness of the rock; while the Jews, many as they were and armed, showed the weakness of the sand. For they said, “What shall we do with these men?” Do you see who is at a loss? Not those who are in others’ hands and in chains, but those who are busy seizing and binding them. What could be stranger than this? You have the other man in your grip, and yet you are completely at a loss? Yes, and quite naturally. Since they had built everything on the sand, they were weaker than anyone. For this reason they said again, “What are you doing, trying to bring this man’s blood on us?” What is he saying? You flog them, and you are afraid? You mistreat them, and you are dismayed? You sit in judgment, and yet you tremble? So feeble is wickedness.

But the apostles were not like that. How were they? “We cannot but speak of the things we have seen and heard.” Do you see a noble spirit? Do you see a rock laughing at the waves? Do you see a house unshaken? And what is more marvelous still: far from turning cowards at the plots formed against them, they took even more courage, and threw the others into greater anxiety. For whoever strikes adamant is the one who is struck; whoever kicks against the goads is the one who is pierced, the one on whom the deep wounds fall; and whoever plots against the virtuous is the one in danger. For wickedness grows the weaker, the more it arrays itself against virtue. As whoever wraps fire in a cloak does not put out the flame but burns up the cloak, so whoever mistreats virtuous people, oppresses them and binds them makes them more glorious, but destroys himself. For the more ills you suffer while living righteously, the stronger you become; since the more we value self-restraint, the less we need anything, and the less we need anything, the stronger we grow, and the more we rise above all.

John was that kind of man. That is why no one could cause him pain, but he caused pain to Herod. So the one who had nothing prevailed over the one who ruled; and the man who wore a diadem and purple and endless pomp trembles and fears the one stripped of everything, and even when John had been beheaded, Herod could not look at his head without fear. That even after John’s death he still felt the full force of his terror, hear what he says: “This is John, whom I killed.” Now the words “I killed” are those of a man not gloating, but calming his own terror, and persuading his troubled soul to remember that he himself had killed him. So great is the power of virtue that even after death it is stronger than the living. For this same reason, while John was living, people with great wealth came to him and said, “What shall we do?” You have so much, and you want to learn the way to prosper from the one who has nothing? The rich from the poor? The soldiers from the man who does not even have a house?

Elijah was that kind of man too, and that is why he spoke to the people with the same boldness. As John said, “You brood of vipers,” so Elijah said, “How long will you limp on both your hips?” And one said, “Have you murdered, and also taken possession?” and the other, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother Philip’s wife.”

Do you see the rock? Do you see the sand — how easily it sinks, how it gives way to disasters, how it is overthrown, though it has the backing of royalty, of numbers, of noble birth? It makes those who pursue it more senseless than anyone.

And it does not merely fall, but falls with great disaster: “And great,” he says, “was its fall.” For the risk is not over trifles, but over the soul, the loss of heaven, and those undying blessings. Or rather, even before that loss, no life is as wretched as the one a man must live who pursues this course. He lives with constant dejection, alarms, cares and anxieties. A certain wise man was pointing to this when he said, “The wicked flee when no one is pursuing.” Such people tremble at their own shadows; they suspect their friends, their enemies, their servants, those who know them and those who do not; and before their punishment, they suffer extreme punishment here. To declare all this, Christ said, “And great was its fall,” closing these good commandments with that fitting ending, and persuading even the most unbelieving, by the things present, to flee from vice.

For although the argument from what is to come is the greater, this one has more power to restrain the coarser sort of people and draw them away from wickedness. That is why he ended with it, so that its benefit might make its home in them.

Knowing all these things, then, both present and future, let us flee from vice and strive after virtue, so that we may not labor fruitlessly and to no purpose, but may both enjoy security here and share in the glory there. May we all attain it, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.