Homily 42 — Matthew 12, verses 33 to 37

“Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or else make the tree rotten and its fruit rotten; for the tree is known by its fruit.” [a]

Once again he shames them in another way, and he is not content with the refutations he has already given. He does this not to clear himself of their accusations, for what went before was quite enough for that, but because he wants to set them right. What he means is this: none of you has found fault with the people who were healed, as though they had not been healed, or said that it is a bad thing to free someone from a demon. However shameless they were, they could not have said that.

So, since they had no charge to bring against the works but were slandering the one who did them, he shows that their accusation goes against both common sense and the plain fit of the facts. And it is the height of shamelessness not only to twist things with malice, but also to invent charges that contradict what everyone naturally thinks. See how free he is from any love of quarreling. He did not say, “Make the tree good, since the fruit also is good.” Instead, stopping their mouths completely, and showing both his own consideration and their insults, he says: “Even if you are determined to find fault with my works, I do not forbid it at all. Only do not bring charges that are inconsistent and contradict each other.” In this way they were sure to be exposed most clearly, setting themselves against what was all too plain. “So your malice gets you nowhere,” he says, “and neither do your statements that contradict themselves. For the truth is that the kind of tree is shown by the fruit, not the fruit by the tree; but you do the opposite. Granted that the tree is the source of the fruit, it is still the fruit that makes the tree known. The consistent thing would be either to blame us and find fault with our works too, or, if you praise the works, to clear us who do them of these charges. But as it is, you do the opposite. You have no fault to find with the works, which are the fruit, yet you pass the opposite verdict on the tree and call me a man possessed by a demon. That is sheer madness.”

Yes, and what he had said before he confirms now as well: a good tree cannot produce bad fruit, nor can the opposite happen. So their charges went against all consistency and against nature.

Then, since he is pleading not for himself but for the Spirit, he pours out his rebuke like a torrent, saying, “You brood of vipers, how can you, being evil, speak good things?”

This is at once an accusation and a proof of his own words, drawn from their own case. “Look,” he says, “you are bad trees, and you cannot produce good fruit. So I am not surprised that you talk this way. You were badly brought up, coming from wicked ancestors, and you have acquired an evil mind.”

And see how carefully he has framed his accusation, leaving them nothing to take hold of. He did not say, “How can you speak good things, being a brood of vipers?” (for the latter is nothing compared with the former), but, “How can you, being evil, speak good things?”

He called them a “brood of vipers” because they prided themselves on their forefathers. So, to show that this did them no good, he shuts them out of their kinship with Abraham and gives them forefathers of a nature like their own, stripping them of that claim to distinction.

“For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.” Here again he shows his divinity, which knew their secrets. He shows that they will be punished not for words only but also for wicked thoughts, and that he knows it all, as God. And he says that even human beings can know these things, for it follows naturally that when wickedness overflows inside, its words pour out through the lips. So when you hear a man speak wicked words, do not suppose there is only as much wickedness in him as the words show. Conclude that the spring is much fuller, for what is spoken outwardly is the overflow of what is within.

See how sharply he rebukes them. For if what they had said is so evil, and comes from the very mind of the devil, think how far the root and the spring of their words must reach. And this is only natural. The tongue, out of shame, often does not pour out all its wickedness at once; but the heart, having no human witness, fearlessly gives birth to whatever evils it likes, for it cares little about God. Since, then, what people say comes under examination and is set before everyone, while the heart is hidden, the evils of the tongue grow less and those of the heart increase. But when what is inside has multiplied, everything that has been hidden for a while comes out in a violent gush. People who are vomiting at first try to hold down the humors forcing their way up, but when they are overcome, they throw up a great deal of filth. So it is with those who plot evil and speak ill of their neighbors.

“A good man,” he says, “out of his good treasure brings out good things, and an evil man out of his evil treasure brings out evil things.” “Do not think at all,” he says, “that this holds only for wickedness. The same happens with goodness too, for there also the virtue within is greater than the words outside.” By this he showed that they were to be counted more wicked than their words showed, and himself more perfectly good than his sayings declared. And he calls it a “treasure” to show its abundance.

Then again he hedges them in with great terror. “Do not think at all,” he says, “that the matter stops here, at being condemned by the people. No: all who do wickedly in such things will suffer the utmost punishment.” And he did not say “you,” partly to instruct our whole race, and partly to make his saying less hard to bear.

“But I tell you” — these are his words — “that for every idle word people speak, they will give an account of it on the day of judgment.” That word is idle which does not match the facts, which is false, which carries an unjust accusation. Some say it also means what is merely empty: for instance, talk that stirs up unrestrained laughter, or what is filthy, shameless and coarse.

“For by your words you will be counted righteous, and by your words you will be condemned.”

Do you see how free this court is from any unfairness? How reasonable the account it asks for? The Judge will pass sentence not on what someone else has said about you, but on what you yourself have spoken. And that is the fairest thing of all, since it is surely up to you whether to speak or not to speak.

That is why it is not the slandered who need to be anxious and tremble, but the slanderers. The slandered are not forced to answer for the evil things said about them; the slanderers will have to answer for the evil they have spoken, and the whole danger hangs over them. So those who are criticized should be free of anxiety, since they will not give account for the evil others have said. But the critics have every reason to be anxious and to tremble, since they themselves will be dragged before the judgment seat for it. For this really is a snare of the devil, a sin with no pleasure in it, only harm. Yes, such a person is storing up an evil treasure in his own soul. If a man with a bad humor in his body is the first to reap the effects of the disease, much more will the one who stores up in himself something more bitter than any bile, I mean wickedness, suffer the worst of evils, as he gathers a terrible disease into himself. This is clear from the things he vomits out. For if they pain others so much, they pain far more the soul that gives birth to them. [e]

So the plotter destroys himself first, just as the man who treads on fire burns himself, the man who strikes adamant hurts himself, and the man who kicks against the goads draws his own blood. For the man who knows how to suffer wrong and bear it bravely is something like this: he is the adamant, and the goads, and the fire. But the man who has made a habit of doing wrong is weaker than any clay.

So it is not suffering wrong that is evil, but doing it, and not knowing how to bear being wronged. For instance, how great the wrongs David endured! How great the wrongs Saul committed! Which of them, then, was the stronger and the happier? Which was the more wretched and miserable? Was it not the one who did wrong? Consider it. Saul had promised that if David killed the Philistine he would make him his son-in-law and give him his daughter with every favor. David killed the Philistine. Saul broke his promise, and far from giving her to him, even tried to kill him. Which of them, then, gained the greater glory? Was not the one choking with despair and with the evil demon, while the other shone brighter than the sun with his trophies and his loyalty to God? Again, when the women sang and danced, was not the one choked with envy, while the other, enduring everything in silence, won over everyone and bound them to himself? And when David even had Saul in his hands and spared him, which of them, once more, was happy, and which wretched? Which was the weaker, and which the more powerful? Was it not David, who would not take revenge even when it would have been just? And that is only natural. For the one had armed soldiers, but the other had righteousness as his ally and helper, and righteousness is mightier than ten thousand armies. That is why, though he was unjustly plotted against, he could not bring himself to kill Saul even justly. He knew from what had happened before that it is not doing evil but suffering evil that makes people more powerful. It is the same with bodies, and the same with trees.

And what about Jacob? Was he not wronged by Laban, and did he not suffer harm? Which, then, was the stronger: the one who had the other in his power and did not dare touch him, but was afraid and trembling; or the one we see, without weapons and soldiers, proving more terrifying to him than countless kings?

But to give you another proof of what I have said, greater than this one, let us test the argument the other way around, again in the case of David himself. This man, who was so strong when he was wronged, afterward became the weaker when he did wrong. At any rate, when he had wronged Uriah, his position was reversed: the weakness passed to the wrongdoer and the might to the one wronged. For Uriah, though dead, laid waste David’s house. The one, a king and alive, could do nothing; the other, only a soldier, and slain, turned upside down everything that belonged to his enemy.

Would you like me to make what I say plainer in yet another way? Let us look at the case of those who take revenge even justly. As for wrongdoers, that they are the most worthless of all people, at war with their own souls, is surely plain to everyone.

But who took revenge justly, and yet set countless evils ablaze and pierced himself through with many disasters and sorrows? The commander of David’s army. He stirred up a terrible war and suffered countless evils, and not one of them would have happened if only he had known how to master himself.

So let us run from this sin, and not wrong our neighbors either in words or in deeds. For he did not say, “If you slander someone and take him to court,” but simply, “If you speak evil, even if only to yourself, even so you will suffer the utmost punishment.” Even if what you said is true, even if you spoke from firm conviction, even so vengeance will come on you. For God will pass sentence not according to what the other person has done, but according to what you have spoken: “For by your words you will be condemned,” he says. Have you not heard that the Pharisee too spoke the truth, and stated what was plain to everyone, without uncovering anything hidden? Nevertheless, he paid the utmost penalty.

But if we must not accuse people of things that are admitted, much less of things that are in dispute. The offender has a judge. Do not, I warn you, seize for yourself the privilege of the only Son. The judgment seat is reserved for him.

Would you still like to be a judge? You have a court of your own, which brings great profit and carries no blame. Seat your reflection as judge over your conscience, and bring all your offenses before it. Search out the sins of your soul, demand a strict account of them, and say, “Why did you dare to do this and that?” And if your soul avoids these questions and goes prying into other people’s affairs, say to her, “I am not judging you about these things. You have not come here to plead about them. What does it matter if so-and-so is a wicked man? You, why did you commit this offense and that? Answer for yourself, not to accuse others. Look to your own affairs, not those of others.” Keep pressing her to this anxious trial. Then, if she has nothing to say and shrinks back, wear her out with the whip, like some restless and unchaste slave girl. Hold this court every day, and picture the river of fire, the poisonous worm, and the rest of the torments. [l]

And do not let her be taken up with the devil any longer, or put up with her shameless excuses: “He comes at me, he plots against me, he tempts me.” Tell her, “If you had not been willing, all that would have come to nothing.” And if she says again, “I am bound up with a body. I am clothed in flesh. I live in the world. I dwell on earth.” Tell her, “These are all excuses and pretexts. So-and-so was also clothed in flesh, and so-and-so, living in the world and dwelling on earth, is approved. And you yourself, when you do well, do it clothed in flesh.” And if it pains her to hear this, do not take your hand off her. She will not die if you strike her; you will save her from death. And if she says again, “So-and-so provoked me.” Tell her, “But it is in your power not to be provoked. At any rate, you have often held back your anger.” And if she says, “The beauty of such-and-such a woman stirred me.” Tell her, “Yet you were able to master yourself.” Bring forward those who have won the victory. Bring forward the first woman, who said, “The serpent deceived me,” and yet was not cleared of the blame.

And while you are searching out these things, let no one be present, and let no one disturb you. As judges sit behind curtains to try cases, so you too, instead of curtains, find a quiet time and place. When you have got up from supper and are about to lie down, then hold this trial of yours. This is the right time for you, and the place is your bed and your bedroom. The prophet too commanded this, saying, “For the things you say in your hearts, be pierced with sorrow on your beds.” And for small offenses demand a heavy reckoning, so that you never come near the great ones at all. If you do this every day, you will stand with confidence before that fearful judgment seat.

This is how Paul became clean. That is why he said, “For if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged.” This is how Job cleansed his sons. For if he offered sacrifices for hidden sins, much more did he demand an account for open ones.

But we do not do this; we do the very opposite. As soon as we lie down to rest, we go over all our worldly affairs instead. Some bring in unclean thoughts, some interest and contracts and the cares of this life. [q]

If we have a daughter who is a virgin, we guard her strictly. But what is more precious to us than a daughter, our soul, we let play the prostitute and defile herself, bringing countless wicked thoughts in to her. Whether it is greed, or the love of luxury, or desire for beautiful people, or anger, or anything else you like that wants to come in, we throw open the doors, draw it in and invite it, and help it defile our soul at its leisure. What could be more savage than this: to look on while our soul, more precious than anything, is abused by so many adulterers, and keeps company with them for so long, until they have had their fill, which will never happen? So it is that only when sleep overtakes us do they leave her; or rather, not even then, for our dreams and imaginings supply her with the same images. That is why, when day comes, the soul, stocked with such images, often slips into actually doing what she fancied.

And you, who will not let so much as a grain of dust into the pupil of your eye, do you take no notice of your soul as it gathers such a heap of evils? When, then, will we be able to clear out this filth that we are storing up inside us every day? When will we cut down the thorns? When will we sow the seed? Do you not know that the time of harvest is already close? Yet we have not even plowed our fields. If the farmer comes and finds fault, what will we say? What answer will we give? That no one gave us the seed? No, it is sown every day. That no one cut down the thorns, then? No, every day we are sharpening the sickle. But do the necessary affairs of life keep pulling you away? Then why have you not crucified yourself to the world? For if the man who paid back only what was given him is wicked because he did not double it, what will be said to the one who has wasted even that? If that man was bound and thrown out where there is gnashing of teeth, what will we have to suffer, who shrink back and are unwilling when countless reasons are drawing us toward virtue?

For what is there that is not enough to persuade you? Do you not see how worthless the world is, how uncertain life is, the toil and the sweat spent on the things of this life? What? Must virtue be worked for, while vice can be had without work? If there is toil in both, why did you not choose the one that brings such great profit? Or rather, there are some parts of virtue that are free even of toil. What toil is there in not slandering, not lying, not swearing oaths, putting away our anger against our neighbor? On the contrary, it is doing these things that is toilsome and brings much anxiety.

What plea, then, will we have, what excuse, if we do not do right even in these things? For this makes it plain that it is out of carelessness and laziness that the harder duties too slip away from us altogether.

Let us think over all these things. Let us run from vice and choose virtue, so that we may attain both the good things of this life and those to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.