Homily 25 — Matthew 7, verse 28, to 8, verse 4

“And it came to pass, when Jesus had finished these sayings, the people were astonished at his teaching.” [a]

And yet it would have been more natural for them to be upset at how hard his sayings were, and to shudder at how lofty his commands were. But as it was, the Teacher’s power was so great that many of them were actually captured by it and thrown into the greatest admiration. The sayings were so sweet that they were persuaded not to leave him at all afterward, not even when he had stopped speaking. For the hearers did not go away even when he had come down from the mountain; even then the whole audience followed him, so great a love for his sayings had he put into them.

But what astonished them most of all was his authority. He did not say what he said by pointing to someone else, as the prophet and Moses did. Everywhere he showed that he himself was the one who had the power to decide. So as he set out his laws, he kept adding, “But I say to you.” And when he reminded them of that day, he declared that he himself was the judge, both by the punishments and by the honors.

And yet it was likely that this too would disturb them. The scribes wanted to stone him and persecute him when they saw him showing his authority by his works. How, then, could these hearers not be expected to take offense when there were only words to prove it — and especially since these things were said at the very outset, before he had given any proof of his own power? Yet they felt nothing of the kind. For when the heart and mind are honest, they are easily persuaded by the words of the truth. And this is exactly why one group took offense even when the miracles were proclaiming his power, while the other, hearing mere words, were persuaded and followed him.

The evangelist hints at this too when he says, “great crowds followed him” — not any of the rulers, nor any of the scribes, but all who were free from vice and whose judgment was uncorrupted. Throughout the whole Gospel you see that it is people like these who clung to him. While he spoke, they used to listen in silence, not pushing in, not breaking into the flow of his sayings, not testing him or wanting to find a handle against him, like the Pharisees. And after his exhortation they followed him again, marveling.

But notice, I beg you, the Lord’s consideration: how he varies the way he benefits his hearers, moving from miracles to words, and again passing from the teaching of his words to miracles. So before they went up the mountain, he healed many, preparing the way for his sayings; and after finishing that long discourse to the people, he comes back to miracles, confirming what had been said by what was done. He was teaching “as one having authority.” So that this way of teaching would not be thought boastful and arrogant, he does the very same in his works too, as one who has authority to heal. That way they would no longer be puzzled to see him teach like this, since he worked his miracles in the same way.

“When he had come down from the mountain, a leper came, saying, ‘Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.’” Great was the understanding and the faith of the man who came to him like this. He did not interrupt the teaching or push through the audience. He waited for the proper moment and approached him “when he had come down.” And he did not do it carelessly, but with great earnestness, on his knees, he begs him, as another evangelist says, with genuine faith and the right view of him. He did not say, “If you ask God,” or, “If you pray,” but, “If you will, you can make me clean.” Nor did he say, “Lord, cleanse me.” He leaves everything to him, makes his recovery depend on him, and testifies that all the authority is his. [d]

Someone says: “But what if the leper’s view was mistaken?” Then it ought to have been done away with, rebuked, and set right. So did he do that? Not at all. Quite the opposite: he establishes and confirms what had been said. That, you see, is why he did not say, “Be cleansed,” but, “I will; be clean,” so that this teaching would no longer rest on the other man’s guess but on his own approval.

The apostles did not speak this way. How, then? When the whole people were amazed, they said, “Why do you pay attention to us, as though by our own power or authority we had made him walk?” But the Lord, though he often said many things modestly and beneath his own glory — what does he say here, to confirm the belief of those who were amazed at his authority? “I will; be clean.” And yet in all the many great signs he worked, he nowhere seems to have spoken this word. Here, however, to confirm what all the people and the leper supposed about his authority, he purposely added, “I will.”

And it was not that he said this but did not do it; the deed followed immediately. If he had not spoken rightly, and the saying had been blasphemy, the deed ought to have been cut short. But as it was, nature herself gave way at his command — and quickly, as was fitting, even more quickly than the evangelist has said. For the word “immediately” falls far short of the speed with which the deed was done.

But he did not merely say, “I will; be clean.” He also “stretched out his hand and touched him” — a thing especially worth looking into. Why, when he was cleansing him by his will and his word, did he add the touch of his hand as well? It seems to me that it was for no other purpose than to show by this too that he is not subject to the law but set over it, and that from now on, to the clean, nothing is unclean. That, you see, is why Elisha did not even see Naaman. Though he knew Naaman was offended that he did not come out and touch him, he kept the strictness of the law, stayed at home, and sent him to wash in the Jordan. But the Lord touches the man, to show that he heals not as a servant but as the absolute Master. For his hand did not become unclean from the leprosy; the leprous body was made clean by his holy hand.

For, as we know, he came not to heal bodies only, but also to lead the soul to self-mastery. From that time on he no longer forbade eating with unwashed hands, bringing in that excellent law that foods make no difference. In just the same way here, he means to teach us for the future that the soul must be our care: that we must leave the outward purifications, wipe the soul clean, and dread its leprosy alone, which is sin. (For being a leper is no hindrance to virtue.) So he himself is the first to touch the leper, and no one finds fault. For the court was not corrupt, and the onlookers were not in the grip of envy. So far from blaming him, they were astonished at the miracle and gave way to it; and for what he said and for what he did alike, they worshiped his power, which nothing could hold back.

So, having healed his body, he tells him, “Tell no one, but show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” [h]

Now some say he told him to tell no one for this reason: so that they would not use some trick in judging his cure. That is a very foolish suspicion on their part. He did not cleanse him in a way that left the cleansing in doubt. No, he tells him to “tell no one” to teach us to avoid boasting and empty glory. And yet he knew well that the man would not obey but would proclaim his benefactor. Still, he does his own part.

Someone may ask: “Then how is it that elsewhere he tells people to speak of it?” Not because he was clashing with himself or contradicting himself, but to teach people to be grateful. For there too he did not command them to proclaim him, but to “give glory to God.” By this leper he trains us to be free of pride and empty glory; by the other, to be thankful and grateful; and on every occasion he teaches us to offer the Lord praise for everything that happens to us. Because people for the most part remember God when they are sick but grow slacker once they have recovered, he tells them to pay attention to the Lord constantly, in sickness and in health alike, with these words: “Give glory to God.”

But why did he also command him to show himself to the priest and to offer a gift? To fulfill the law here again. He did not set it aside in every case, nor keep it in every case, but sometimes did the one and sometimes the other. By the one he was making way for the higher way of life that was to come; by the other he was checking for a while the insulting talk of the Jews, and stooping down to meet them in their weakness. And why be surprised if he himself did this right at the beginning? Even the apostles themselves are found sometimes keeping the law and sometimes neglecting it — and that after they had been commanded to go to the Gentiles, after the doors had been opened for their teaching throughout the world, the law shut up, the commandments made new, and all the ancient things brought to an end.

But it may be said: “What does this saying, ‘Show yourself to the priest,’ contribute to keeping the law?” No small thing. For it was an ancient law that the leper, once cleansed, should not trust his own judgment about his cleansing, but should show himself to the priest, set the proof before his eyes, and by his verdict be counted among the clean. If the priest did not say, “The leper is cleansed,” he stayed with the unclean outside the camp. That is why he says, “Show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded.” He did not say, “which I command.” For the time being he sends him back to the law, stopping their mouths by every means. So that they could not say he had seized the priests’ honor, he did the work himself but entrusted the approving of it to them, and made them sit as judges of his own miracles. He says: “Why, I am so far from quarreling with Moses or with the priests that I lead those I have favored to submit themselves to them.”

But what does “as a testimony to them” mean? It means for a reproof, for a proof, for an accusation, if they are ungrateful. For they were saying, “We are persecuting him as a deceiver and an impostor, as an enemy of God and a breaker of the law.” So he says: “You will bear witness for me at that time that I am not a breaker of the law. See, I have healed you, and I send you back to the law and to the priests’ approval.” That was the act of one who honored the law and admired Moses, and who did not set himself against the ancient teachings.

And if in fact they were not going to become any better, this is where one can see his respect for the law most of all: though he knew beforehand that they would gain nothing by it, he did everything on his part. He did know this in advance, and he foretold it. He did not say, “for their correction,” or, “for their instruction,” but, “as a testimony to them” — that is, for an accusation, for a reproof, and for a witness that “everything has been done on my part; and though I knew beforehand that they would remain beyond correction, even so I did not leave undone what ought to be done.” Only they went on holding to their own wickedness to the end.

He says this elsewhere too, notice: “This good news will be preached in all the world as a testimony to all the nations, and then the end will come” — to the nations, to those who do not obey, to those who do not believe. So that no one could say, “Then why preach to everyone, if not everyone is going to believe?” “It is so that I may be found to have done all my own part, and so that no one may be able to find fault later, as though he had not heard.” For the preaching itself will bear witness against them, and they will not be able to say afterward, “We did not hear.” For the word of godliness “has gone out to the ends of the world.”

So, keeping these things in mind, let us too fulfill all our duties to our neighbor, and let us give thanks to God continually. It is too monstrous that, while we enjoy his generosity in deed every day, we do not so much as acknowledge the favor in word — and that though the acknowledgment, again, brings all its profit to us. For be sure of this: he needs nothing of ours, but we need everything from him. Thanksgiving adds nothing to him, but it brings us nearer to him. If people’s kindnesses, when we call them to mind, warm us all the more by their own love charm, how much more, when we are continually recalling the noble deeds of our Lord toward us, will we be more eager about his commandments! [m]

That is why Paul too said, “Be thankful.” For the best way to keep any benefit is to remember the benefit and to give thanks continually.

That is why even the awe-inspiring mysteries, so full of that great salvation, which are celebrated at every service, are called a sacrifice of thanksgiving. They are the remembrance of many benefits; they show the very sum of God’s care for us; and in every way they work on us to make us thankful. For if his being born of a virgin was a great miracle, and the evangelist said in amazement, “Now all this was done,” then his being slain as well — tell me, what place will we find for that? I mean, if being born is called “all this,” then being crucified, pouring out his blood, and giving himself to us as a spiritual feast and banquet — what can that be called? So let us give him thanks continually, and let thanksgiving come before both our words and our works.

But let us be thankful not for our own blessings only, but for those of others too. In this way we will be able both to destroy our envy and to rivet our love fast and make it more genuine. For you will not even be able to go on envying the people on whose behalf you give thanks to the Lord.

That is why, as you know, when that sacrifice is set out, the priest too calls on us to give thanks for the world, for the things past and the things present, for what has been done for us before and for what will happen to us hereafter.

For this is what frees us from earth, moves us into heaven, and makes us angels instead of men. For they too form a choir and give thanks to God for the good things he has given us, saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

“And what is this to us, who are not on earth and are not men?” “No, it matters very much to us. For we have been taught to love our fellow servants so much that we count their blessings as our own.”

That is why Paul too, everywhere in his letters, gives thanks for God’s gracious acts toward the world.

So let us too give thanks continually, for our own blessings and for those of others, for the small and the great alike. For though the gift may be small, it becomes great by being God’s gift. Or rather, nothing that comes from him is small, not only because he gives it, but also in its very nature.

And to pass over all the rest, which outnumber the sand, what is equal to the plan of salvation carried out for our sake? What was more precious to him than everything — his only Son — him he gave for us, his enemies. And he not only gave him, but after giving him he even set him before us as food. He himself did everything that was for our good, both in giving him and in making us thankful for all this. For because man is for the most part ungrateful, he himself everywhere takes in hand and brings about what is for our good. And what he did with the Jews, reminding them of his benefits by places and times and feasts, he has done in this case too: by the manner of the sacrifice he brings us to a constant remembrance of his generosity in these things.

No one has worked so hard for us to be approved, and great, and right-minded in everything, as the God who made us. That is why he often does us good against our will, and more often than not without our knowing it. And if you are surprised at what I have said, I point to its having happened not to some ordinary person but to the blessed Paul. For that blessed man, when he was in great danger and distress, often begged God that the trials might leave him. Yet God paid attention not to his request but to his profit, and to show this he said, “My grace is enough for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” So before he has told him the reason, he benefits him against his will and without his knowing it.

Now what great thing does he ask, in requiring us to be thankful in return for such tender care? So let us obey, and keep this up everywhere. For nothing ruined the Jews so much as their ingratitude. Those many blows, one after another, were brought on them by nothing else than this — or rather, even before those blows, this had ruined and corrupted their soul. “For the hope of the ungrateful,” says one, “is like the winter’s frost.” It numbs and deadens the soul, as frost does our bodies. [s]

And this springs from pride, and from thinking oneself worthy of something. But the person with a crushed heart will find reasons to give thanks to God not for good things only, but also for what seem to be hardships; and however much he may suffer, he will count none of his sufferings undeserved. So let us too, the further we advance in virtue, crush our hearts all the more; for this, more than anything else, is virtue. For just as the sharper our sight is, the better we learn how far we are from the sky, so the further we advance in virtue, the more we are taught the difference between God and us. And it is no small part of true wisdom to be able to see what we deserve. For the one who knows himself best is the one who counts himself as nothing.

So we see that both David and Abraham, when they had climbed to the highest peak of virtue, did this best of all: they would call themselves, the one “earth and ashes,” the other “a worm.” And all the saints, like them, acknowledge their own wretchedness. So surely the one who is puffed up with boasting is the very person who is most ignorant of himself. That is why in everyday speech we tend to say of the proud, “He doesn’t know himself,” “He is ignorant of himself.” And the one who does not know himself — whom will he know? For as the one who knows himself will know all things, so the one who does not know this will not know the rest either.

Such a one was he who says, “I will exalt my throne above the heavens.” Being ignorant of himself, he was ignorant of everything else. But not Paul. He used instead to call himself “one born out of due time,” and the last of the saints, and he did not count himself worthy even of the name of apostle, after so many great good deeds.

So let us imitate him and follow him. And we will follow him if we rid ourselves of earth and of the things on earth. For nothing makes a person so ignorant of himself as being riveted to worldly concerns; and again, nothing so much causes people to be riveted to worldly concerns as ignorance of oneself. These things hang on each other. I mean that the one who loves outward glory and sets a high value on present things is not allowed to understand himself, even if he strives forever; while the one who looks past these things will easily know himself, and once he has come to know himself, he will go on in order to all the other parts of virtue.

So, in order that we may learn this good knowledge, let us free ourselves from all the perishable things that kindle so great a flame in us, and, aware of how worthless they are, let us show all humility and self-restraint, so that we may attain the blessings both present and to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, might, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy and Good Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.