Homily 45 — Matthew 13, verses 10 to 23

“And the disciples came and said to him, ‘Why do you speak to them in parables?’ He answered and said to them, ‘Because it has been given to you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given.’” [a]

We have good reason to admire the disciples. Longing as they do to learn, they know when they ought to ask. They do not ask in front of everyone, and Matthew shows this by saying, “And they came.” And to show that this is no guess of ours, Mark has put it more plainly, saying that “they came to him privately.” This is what his brothers and his mother should have done too, instead of calling him out and making a display.

But notice their kindly feeling as well: how much regard they have for the others, and how they seek the others’ good first and their own afterward. “Why,” it says, “do you speak to them in parables?” They did not say, “Why do you speak to us in parables?” Yes, and on other occasions too their kindness toward people shows itself in many ways, as when they say, “Send the crowd away,” and, “Do you know that they were offended?”

What, then, does Christ say? “Because it has been given to you,” he says, “to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given.” He said this not to bring in necessity, or some lot handed out without cause and at random. He meant that they were the authors of all their own evils, and he wanted to show that the thing is a gift, a grace given from above. Yet it does not follow, because it is a gift, that free will is taken away; and this is clear from what comes next. So that neither the one group would despair nor the other grow careless on being told that “it has been given,” he shows that the beginning lies with ourselves.

“For whoever has, to him will be given, and he will have more abundance; but whoever does not have, even what he seems to have will be taken away from him.”

The saying is full of obscurity, yet it points to a justice beyond words. What he means is something like this: when someone has eagerness and zeal, everything on God’s part will be given to him as well; but if he lacks these and does not contribute his own share, God’s gifts are not given either. For even “what he seems to have,” he says, “will be taken away from him” — not so much because God takes it away as because God counts him unworthy of his gifts. We do the same. When we see someone listening carelessly, and we cannot persuade him to pay attention even with much pleading, the only thing left is for us to be silent. For if we keep pressing on, we only make his carelessness worse. But the one who is working hard to learn, we lead on, and we pour a great deal into him. And he did well to say, “even what he seems to have.” For in truth he does not have even that.

Then he made what he had said clearer still, showing the meaning of “To him who has, it will be given; but from him who does not have, even what he seems to have will be taken away.” “That is why,” he says, “I speak to them in parables: because seeing, they do not see.”

Someone may say:

“Then he ought to have opened their eyes, if they do not see.”

No. If the blindness were natural, he ought to have opened them. But because it was a blindness they had chosen of their own will, he did not simply say, “They do not see,” but, “Seeing, they do not see.” So the blindness comes from their own wickedness. They saw even demons driven out, and they said, “He drives out the demons by Beelzebub, the prince of the demons.” They heard him leading them to God and showing how completely he was of one mind with him, and they said, “This man is not from God.” Since, then, the verdict they gave went against both what they saw and what they heard, that is why, he says, I take away even their hearing. For they gain nothing from it, only greater condemnation. They not only refused to believe; they also found fault, and accused, and laid traps. Yet he does not say this, since he does not want to offend them by accusing them. That is why at the beginning he did not speak to them in this way, but very plainly. But because they had twisted themselves, from then on he speaks in parables.

After this, so that no one would suppose his words were a mere accusation, and so that people could not say, “He is our enemy; that is why he brings these charges and slanders against us,” he brings in the prophet as well, pronouncing the same judgment as himself. [e]

“For in them,” he says, “the prophecy of Isaiah is fulfilled, which says, ‘Hearing you will hear, and will not understand; and seeing you will see, and will not perceive.’”

Do you see how the prophet too accuses them with the same precision? He did not say, “You do not see,” but, “You will see and will not perceive”; nor again, “You will not hear,” but, “You will hear and will not understand.” So they were the first to inflict the loss on themselves, by stopping their ears, by closing their eyes, by making their heart fat. They did not merely fail to hear; they “heard heavily.” And they did this, he says, “so that they would not turn back at any time, and I would heal them.” He is describing how far their wickedness had gone and how determined they were to turn away from him. He says this to draw them to himself, to rouse them, and to show that if they would turn back, he would heal them. It is much as if someone said, “He would not look at me, and I thank him for it; for if he had done me that honor, I would have given in at once.” The man says this to show how he would have been reconciled. In the same way it is said here, “so that they would not turn back at any time, and I would heal them.” This shows that their turning back was possible, that if they repented they could be saved, and that he was doing everything not for his own glory but for their salvation.

For if he had not wanted them to hear and be saved, he should have kept silent, not spoken in parables. But as it is, he rouses them by this very thing — by speaking under a veil. “For God does not want the death of the sinner, but that he should turn to him and live.”

To prove that our sin does not belong to our nature, or come from necessity and force, listen to what he says to the apostles: “But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear.” He does not mean this bodily sight and hearing, but the sight and hearing of the mind. For these men too were Jews and had been brought up in the same surroundings. Yet the prophecy did them no harm, because they had the root of his blessings firmly planted in them — their power of choice, I mean, and their judgment. Do you see that “to you it has been given” was not a matter of necessity? For they would not have been blessed unless the good they did had been their own. And do not tell me that he spoke obscurely. They could have come and asked him, as the disciples did. But they would not, because they were careless and lazy. Why do I say they would not? They were doing the very opposite: not only refusing to believe, not only refusing to listen, but even waging war on him and setting themselves bitterly against everything he said. That is what he brings in the prophet charging them with, in the words, “They heard heavily.”

But these men were not like that, and so he called them blessed. And he reassures them again in another way as well, saying, “For truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous men desired to see the things you see, and did not see them, and to hear the things you hear, and did not hear them.” By this he means his coming: his very miracles, his voice, his teaching. For here he ranks them above not only these corrupt men but even those who had lived virtuously; yes, he declares them more blessed even than those. Why is that? Because they see not only what the Jews did not see, but even what the people of old longed to see. Those saw by faith only; these see with their own eyes too, and far more clearly.

Do you see how once again he joins the old covenant to the new, showing that the people of old not only knew what was to come but longed for it greatly? If these things had belonged to some strange and opposing god, they would never have longed for them.

“Hear, then, the parable of the sower,” he says. And he tells what we mentioned before: about carelessness and attentiveness, about cowardice and courage, about wealth and poverty chosen freely. He points out the harm that comes from the one and the benefit that comes from the other. Then he also sets out the different forms of virtue. Being full of love for humankind, he did not mark out only one way. He did not say, “Unless someone yields a hundredfold, he is cast out.” No: the one who yields sixty is saved too, and not only he, but also the one who yields thirty. He said this to show that salvation is easy.

And you, then — can you not live as a virgin? Be chaste in marriage. Can you not strip yourself of your possessions? Give from what you have. Can you not carry that burden? Share your goods with Christ. Are you unwilling to give him everything? Give him just half, or a third. He is your brother and co-heir; make him your co-heir here too. Whatever you give him, you will be giving to yourself. Do you not hear what the prophet says? “You shall not overlook those who belong to your own seed.” But if we must not overlook our relatives, much less our Lord, who has over you not only his authority as Lord but also the claim of kinship, and many more claims besides. Yes, for he too made you a sharer in his goods, having received nothing from you, but starting with this benefit beyond words. What, then, can it be but the height of folly, not to become kind toward people even through this gift, not even to make a return for a free gift, smaller things for greater? He has made you an heir of heaven, and will you not share with him even the things of earth? When you had done nothing good, and were even his enemy, he reconciled you to himself; and will you not repay him, when he is your friend and benefactor? [j]

And surely, even before the kingdom and all the rest, we ought to feel bound to him for the very fact that he gives to us at all. So too servants, when they invite their masters to a meal, count themselves not as giving but as receiving. But here the opposite has happened. It is not the servant who has invited the Lord; the Lord has first invited the servant to his own table. And will you not invite him, not even after this? He first brought you under his own roof; will you not take him in, even in the second place? He clothed you when you were naked; and will you not, even after this, take him in when he is a stranger? He first gave you drink from his own cup; and will you not give him so much as cold water? He has made you drink of the Holy Spirit; and will you not relieve even his bodily thirst? He has made you drink of the Spirit when you deserved punishment; and will you neglect him even when he is thirsty — and that when it is from his own gifts that you are to do all these things? Do you not think it a great thing, then, to hold the cup from which Christ is to drink, and to put it to his lips? Do you not see that only the priest is permitted to give the cup of his blood?

“But I am not at all strict about this,” he says. “Even if you give it yourself, I accept it; even if you are a layman, I do not refuse it. And I do not ask for the same as I have given. It is not blood I am looking for, but cold water.”

Think to whom you are giving drink, and tremble. Think: you have become a priest of Christ, giving with your own hand not flesh but bread, not blood but a cup of cold water. He clothed you with a garment of salvation, and clothed you himself; you at least clothe him by your servant. He made you glorious in heaven; you at least rescue him from shivering, and nakedness, and shame. He made you a fellow citizen of the angels; you at least share with him the shelter of your roof, and give him room at least as you would your own servant.

“I do not turn down this lodging or that — I who have opened the whole of heaven to you. I set you free from a most grievous prison. I do not ask this back from you, nor do I say, ‘Set me free’; but if you would only look in on me when I am in chains, that is enough to refresh me. When you were dead, I raised you. I do not ask this back from you either; I only say, visit me when I am sick.”

Now when his gifts are so great, and what he asks is so very easy, and we do not supply even that, what depth of hell do we not deserve? We will justly depart into the fire prepared for the devil and his angels, since we are more unfeeling than any rock. For tell me, what numbness is it that we, who have received so much and are to receive so much, should be slaves of money, from which we will soon be parted even against our will? Others have given up even their lives and shed their blood; and will you not give up even what you have to spare, for heaven’s sake, for the sake of such great crowns?

What favor can you deserve? What defense can you have — you who gladly pour out everything when you sow your land, and hold nothing back when you lend to people at interest, but are cruel and heartless when it comes to feeding your Lord through his poor?

So, having thought all this over, and having reckoned up what we have received, what we are to receive, and what is asked of us, let us show all our earnestness in spiritual things. Let us become gentle and kind at last, so that we do not bring the unbearable punishment down on ourselves. For what is there that does not have the power to condemn us? That we have enjoyed so many and such great benefits; that nothing great is asked of us; that what is asked of us are things we will leave behind here even against our will; that we show such generosity in our worldly affairs. Why, each one of these would be enough by itself to condemn us; but when they all come together, what hope of salvation will there be? So that we may escape all this condemnation, then, let us show some generosity to those in need. In this way we will enjoy all the good things, both here and there. May we all attain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.