Homily 46 — Matthew 13, verses 24 to 33

“He put another parable before them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while people slept, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went his way. But when the blade had sprung up and borne fruit, then the weeds appeared. So the servants of the master of the house came and said to him, ‘Sir, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did the weeds come from?’ He said to them, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The servants said to him, ‘Do you want us, then, to go and gather them up?’ But he said, ‘No; in case, while you gather up the weeds, you root up the wheat along with them. So let both grow together until the harvest.’” [a]

What is the difference between this parable and the one before it? There he speaks of those who never held to him at all, but turned aside and threw the seed away. Here he means the gatherings of the heretics. So that not even this would upset his disciples, he foretells it too, after teaching them why he speaks in parables. The earlier parable, then, is about people not receiving him; this one is about their receiving those who corrupt them. For this too is part of the devil’s craft: always to bring in error alongside the truth, painting it over with many likenesses, so as to cheat the easily deceived without trouble. That is why he does not call it just any other seed, but weeds, which in appearance are rather like wheat.

Then he also names the way the enemy goes about it: “while people slept,” he says. With these words he hangs no small danger over our leaders, to whom above all the keeping of the field is entrusted; and not over the leaders only, but over those under them as well.

He also shows that error comes after the truth, as the actual course of events bears witness. So after the prophets came the false prophets; after the apostles, the false apostles; and after Christ, the Antichrist. For unless the devil sees something to imitate, or someone to plot against, he does not attempt anything, and does not know how. So now too, having seen that “one bore a hundred, another sixty, another thirty,” he goes to work another way. That is, since he was not able to snatch away what had taken root, or to choke it, or to scorch it, he plots against it with another trick, secretly throwing in inventions of his own.

Someone may ask: “And what difference is there between those who sleep and those who are like the path?” This: in that case he snatched the seed away at once; he did not even let it take root. Here more of his craft was needed.

Christ says these things to teach us to be always awake. Even if you escape those harms entirely, he is saying, there is still another harm. As in those cases the path, the rock and the thorns brought ruin, so here again sleep brings it; so there is need of constant watchfulness. That is why he also said, “The one who endures to the end will be saved.”

Something like this happened even at the beginning. I mean that many of those who presided over the churches brought wicked men into them, leaders of heresies in disguise, and made it very easy to lay this kind of trap. For the devil does not even need to take any trouble once he has planted such men among us.

Someone may ask: “And how is it possible not to sleep?” As for natural sleep, it is not possible; but as for the sleep of our power of moral choice, it is. That is why Paul also said, “Stay awake, stand firm in the faith.”

Next he shows that the deed was uncalled for, and not only harmful. For it is after the land has been worked, when nothing more is needed, that this enemy sows over it again, just as the heretics do, who pour in their own poison for no other reason than empty glory.

And not by this alone, but by what follows as well, he paints their whole way of acting exactly. “When the blade had sprung up,” he says, “and borne fruit, then the weeds appeared too.” This is just what these men do. At the start they keep themselves disguised; but once they have gained a good deal of confidence, and someone has shared the teaching of the word with them, then they pour out their poison.

But why does he bring in the servants, telling what has been done? So that he may declare it wrong to kill such men.

He calls him “an enemy” because of the harm he does to people. Though the spite is aimed at us, it sprang in the first place from his hostility, not toward us, but toward God. From this it is plain that God loves us more than we love ourselves.

See the devil’s malicious craft from another thing too. He did not sow before this, because he had nothing to destroy. He sowed when everything had been completed, so that he might undo the Farmer’s care; such was the hostility he always acted with against him.

Notice also the devotion of the servants: how eager they are to root up the weeds at once, even though they go about it rashly. This shows their concern for the crop, and that they are looking to one thing only: not the punishment of that enemy, but the saving of what was sown. That other matter, of course, is not the pressing one. So their aim is how to get rid of the damage for the present. And they do not seek even this on their own authority, for they do not trust themselves with it, but wait for the Master’s decision, saying, “Do you want us to?” What, then, does the Master do? He forbids them, saying, “In case you root up the wheat along with them.”

He said this to keep wars from arising, and blood and slaughter. For it is not right to put a heretic to death, since an endless war would be brought into the world. So he holds them back for these two reasons: first, that the wheat may not be hurt; second, that punishment will certainly overtake the heretics if they are incurably diseased. “So if you want them punished, but without harm to the wheat, I tell you to wait for the proper season.”

But what does “In case you root up the wheat along with them” mean? Either he means this: “If you take up arms and kill the heretics, many of the saints are bound to be struck down with them.” Or he means that many of the weeds themselves may well change and become wheat: “So if you root them up too soon, you damage what is going to become wheat, killing some in whom there is still room for change and improvement.” So he does not forbid us to restrain heretics, to stop their mouths, to take away their freedom to speak, and to break up their meetings and alliances. What he forbids is killing and slaughtering them.

But notice his gentleness: he does not only pass sentence and forbid; he also sets out his reasons.

What, then, if the weeds remain until the end? “Then I will say to the reapers, Gather the weeds together first, and bind them in bundles to burn them.” Once more he reminds them of John’s words, bringing himself in as judge. And he says: “As long as they stand beside the wheat, we must spare them, for it is possible for them even to become wheat. But when they have departed having gained nothing from it, then the punishment that nothing can turn aside must overtake them.” “For I will say to the reapers,” he says, “Gather the weeds together first.” Why “first”? So that these may not take fright, as though the wheat were being carried off with them. “And bind them in bundles to burn them, but gather the wheat into my barn.”

“He put another parable before them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed.” [e]

He had said that three parts of the crop are lost and only one saved, and that even in the part that is saved so much damage follows. So that they would not say, “Then who will the faithful be, and how many?” he removes this fear too, by the parable of the mustard seed. He leads them on to believe, and shows that in any case the good news will spread far and wide. That is why he brought forward the comparison with this plant, which is very like the matter in hand. “It is indeed the smallest of all seeds,” he says, “but when it has grown it is the largest of the garden plants, and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and nest in its branches.”

In this way he meant to set out the clearest sign of its greatness. He is saying: “So it will be with the good news as well.” For his disciples were the weakest and least of all; and yet, because of the great power that was in them, the good news has been spread out into every part of the world.

After this he adds the yeast to this comparison, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast, which a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, until the whole was leavened.” “For as this turns a large quantity of flour into its own nature, so you will turn the whole world.”

And see his wisdom: he brings in things of nature, implying that as the one cannot fail to happen, neither can the other. “Do not say to me, ‘What will we be able to do, twelve men, throwing ourselves on so vast a multitude?’ No; this very thing above all makes your strength plain, that you mix with the multitude and are not put to flight. The yeast leavens the lump when it comes close to the flour, and not merely close, but so as to be actually mixed into it (for he did not simply say “put,” but “hid”); and in the same way you, when you cling to your enemies and are made one with them, will get the better of them. And as the yeast is buried and yet not destroyed, but little by little changes everything into its own condition, so it will turn out here too with the good news. So do not be afraid because I said there would be much harm done; for even so you will shine out and get the better of everyone.”

By “three measures” here he meant many, for he is accustomed to use this number for a great quantity.

And do not be surprised that, speaking about the kingdom, he mentioned a little seed and yeast. He was talking with men who had no experience and no learning, men who needed to be led on by such means. They were so simple that even after all this they needed a good deal of explanation.

Where now are the children of the Greeks? Let them learn Christ’s power as they see the truth of his deeds, and let them worship him on both counts: that he foretold so great a thing, and that he fulfilled it. For it is he who put the power into the yeast. With this purpose he also mixed those who believe in him in with the multitude, so that we might share our wisdom with the rest. So let no one reproach us for being few. The power of the good news is great, and what has once been leavened becomes yeast in its turn for what remains.

A spark that has caught in timber makes what is already burning feed the flame, and so moves on to the rest; so it is with the good news too. But he did not say fire; he said “yeast.” Why? Because with fire the whole effect is not the fire’s, but partly that of the timber that is kindled; but here the yeast does the whole work by itself.

Now if twelve men leavened the whole world, imagine how low we have sunk, when we, who are so many, are not able to set right those who remain: we who ought to be enough for ten thousand worlds, and to become yeast to them. [g]

Someone may say: “But they were apostles.” And what of it? Did they not share the same lot as you? Were they not brought up in cities? Did they not enjoy the same benefits? Did they not work at trades? What, were they angels? Did they come down from heaven?

“But they had signs,” someone will say. It was not the signs that made them admirable. How long will we use those miracles as a cover for our own slackness? Look at the company of the saints: they did not shine by those miracles. Why, many who had actually cast out demons, because they practiced lawlessness, far from being admired, even incurred punishment.

“Then what was it,” he will say, “that showed them to be great?” Their contempt for wealth, their disregard of glory, their freedom from the things of this world. For if they had lacked these qualities and been slaves of their passions, then even if they had raised ten thousand dead, far from doing any good they would have been counted deceivers. So it is their life, shining on every side, that also draws down the grace of the Spirit.

What miracle did John work, that he drew the attention of so many cities to himself? That he worked no wonders, listen to the evangelist saying, “John did no miracle.” And how did Elijah come to be admired? Was it not from his boldness toward the king? From his zeal for God? From his voluntary poverty? From his sheepskin cloak, and his cave, and his mountains? He did his miracles only after all these. And Job: what miracle did he work in the devil’s sight, that the devil was amazed at him? No miracle at all, but a life that shone and showed an endurance firmer than any diamond. What miracle did David work while still young, that God should say, “I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after my own heart”? And Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob: what dead body did they raise? What leper did they cleanse?

Do you not know that miracles, unless we keep sober, even do harm in many cases? This is how many of the Corinthians were split from one another; this is how many of the Romans were carried away with pride; this is how Simon was cast out. This is how the man who once wanted to follow Christ was turned away, when he was told, “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests.” Each of these, one reaching for the wealth, another for the glory that miracles bring, fell away and perished. But care for how we live and love of virtue, far from producing such a desire, even take it away where it already exists.

And he himself, when he was making laws for his own disciples, what did he say? “Do miracles, so that people may see you”? Not at all. What, then? “Let your light shine before people, so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” And to Peter, again, he did not say, “If you love me, do miracles,” but “Feed my sheep.” And though everywhere he singles him out, with James and John, above all the rest, for what, I ask you, did he single them out? For their miracles? No; all alike cleansed lepers and raised the dead, and he gave that authority to all alike.

Where, then, did these get their advantage? From the virtue of their souls. Do you see how everywhere what is required is practice, and the proof given by works? “For by their fruits,” he says, “you will know them.” And what makes our own life commendable? Is it a display of miracles, or the perfection of an excellent way of life? Very plainly the second. As for miracles, they both have their origin here and end here. For the one who shows an excellent life draws this gift to himself, and the one who receives the gift receives it for this purpose: to set other people’s lives right.

Even Christ worked those miracles for this end: so that, having made himself believable by them and drawn people to himself, he might bring virtue into our life. That is why, of the two, he lays more stress on this. He is not at all content with signs alone; he also threatens hell, and promises a kingdom, and lays down those startling laws, and orders everything to this end, to make us equal to the angels.

And why do I say that Christ does everything for this purpose? Why, you yourself: if someone gave you the choice between raising the dead by his name and dying for his name, which of the two, I ask you, would you rather take? Is it not quite plain that you would take the second? And yet the one is a miracle, the other only a work. And what if someone offered you the power to turn grass into gold, or the power to despise all wealth as grass? Would you not rather take the second? And very reasonably. For this would draw people more than anything. If they saw grass turned into gold, they would want to get that power for themselves too, as Simon did, and the love of money would grow in them. But if they saw us all scorning and ignoring gold as though it were grass, they would long ago have been set free from this disease.

Do you see that our practice has more power to do good? By practice I do not mean your fasting, or your spreading sackcloth and ashes under you. I mean despising wealth as it ought to be despised; being kind; giving your bread to the hungry; controlling anger; casting out empty glory; putting away envy. This is how he himself used to teach. “Learn from me,” he says, “for I am gentle and humble in heart.” He did not say, “for I fasted,” though he could surely have spoken of the forty days. He does not say this, but “I am gentle and humble in heart.” And again, when he was sending them out, he did not say, “Fast,” but “Eat whatever is set before you.” With regard to wealth, however, he required great strictness of them, saying, “Do not get gold, or silver, or copper for your purses.” [l]

I say all this not to belittle fasting, God forbid, but rather to praise it highly. What grieves me is that, while you neglect your other duties, you think fasting is enough for salvation, when it holds only the last place in the chorus of the virtues. The greatest things are love, and moderation, and almsgiving, which hits a higher mark even than virginity.

So if you want to become equal to the apostles, nothing stands in your way. To have reached this virtue alone is enough to keep you from falling short of them in anything. So let no one wait for miracles. The evil spirit is grieved when he is driven out of a body, but much more when he sees a soul set free from sin. For this is his great power. This power made Christ die, so that he might put an end to it. Yes, this brought in death; because of this everything has been turned upside down. If, then, you remove it, you have cut the sinews of the devil, you have “bruised his head,” you have put an end to all his might, you have scattered his army, you have shown a sign greater than all signs.

The saying is not mine, but the blessed Paul’s. When he had said, “Earnestly desire the best gifts; and yet I show you a more excellent way,” he did not go on to speak of a sign, but of love, the root of all our good things. If, then, we practice this, and all the self-denial that flows from it, we will have no need of signs; just as, on the other hand, if we do not practice it, we will gain nothing from the signs.

Keeping all this in mind, then, let us imitate the things by which the apostles became great. And by what did they become great? Listen to Peter saying, “Look, we have left everything and followed you; what, then, will we have?” Listen also to Christ saying to them, “You will sit on twelve thrones,” and, “Everyone who has left houses, or brothers, or father, or mother, will receive a hundred times as much in this world, and will inherit eternal life.” So let us withdraw ourselves from all the things of this world and give ourselves to Christ, so that we may both be made equal to the apostles, as he has declared, and enjoy eternal life. May we all attain it, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.