Homily 6 — Matthew 2, verses 1 to 3

“When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, look, wise men came from the east to Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is he who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and have come to worship him.’” [a]

We need a great deal of wakefulness, and many prayers, to arrive at the meaning of the passage now before us, and to learn who these wise men were, where they came from and how, who persuaded them to come, and what the star was. Or rather, if you like, let us first bring forward what the enemies of the truth say. For the devil has blown on them with so violent a blast that they try to arm themselves against the words of truth even from this passage.

What, then, do they claim? They say, “Look, even when Christ was born a star appeared, which is a sign that astrology can be relied on.” Then how, if he was born under that law, did he put down astrology, do away with fate, stop the mouths of demons, drive out error, and overthrow all sorcery of that kind?

And besides, what do the wise men learn from the star by itself? That he was King of the Jews? Yet he was not king of this kingdom, as he also said to Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world.” At any rate, he made no display of that kind. He had no guards armed with spear and shield around him, no horses, no mule-drawn chariots, nothing else of the sort. He led this life of lowliness and poverty instead, taking around with him twelve men of no standing.

And even if they knew him to be a king, why have they come? Surely this is not the business of astrology — to learn from the stars who is born. Its business is to take the hour when people are born and predict from it what will happen to them; so they say, at least. But these men were not present with the mother in her labor. They did not know the time when he was born. They did not start from that moment and compute from the motion of the stars what was going to happen. It was the other way around: they had seen a star appear in their own country a long time before, and they come to see the one who was born.

This in itself raises a still greater difficulty than the first. What reason moved them, or the hope of what benefits, to worship a king so far away? Why, even if he had been going to reign over them, it most certainly could not be reasonably explained even then. Of course, if he had been born in a royal palace, with his father, himself a king, standing beside him, anyone might naturally say that they worshiped the child out of a wish to court the father, and were laying up for themselves in advance a good deal of favor. But as it is, they did not even expect him to be their own king. He was to be the king of a foreign nation, far from their country, and they did not yet see him grown to manhood. So why do they set out on so long a journey and offer gifts — and that when dangers were sure to beset the whole undertaking? For Herod was deeply troubled when he heard of it, and the whole people was thrown into confusion when these men told them these things.

“But these men did not foresee this.” No, that is not reasonable. However foolish they might have been, they could not have been unaware of this much: that if they came into a city under a king, and proclaimed things like these, and put forward another king besides the one who was then reigning, they were bound to bring a thousand deaths down on their own heads.

And why did they worship one who was in swaddling clothes at all? If he had been a grown man, someone might say that they threw themselves into a danger they foresaw because they expected help from him. Even that would be unreasonable in the extreme: that a Persian, a barbarian, a man with nothing in common with the Jewish nation, should be willing to leave his home, give up country and relatives and friends, and put himself under another kingdom.

But if this is foolish, what follows is much more foolish. What is that? That after they had undertaken so long a journey, and worshiped, and thrown everything into confusion, they went away immediately. And what sign of royalty did they see at all, when what they saw was a shed, and a manger, and a child in swaddling clothes, and a poor mother? And to whom, besides, did they offer their gifts, and for what purpose? Was it the usual custom, then, to pay court in this way to kings born anywhere at all? Did they keep traveling all over the world, worshiping those they knew would rise from a low and humble condition to become kings, before they came to the royal throne? No, no one can say that.

And for what purpose did they worship him at all? If for the sake of things present, what did they expect to receive from an infant and a mother of humble condition? If for things to come, how did they know that the child they had worshiped in swaddling clothes would remember what was done then? And if his mother was going to remind him, even then they deserved not honor but punishment, for bringing him into a danger they must have foreseen. That, at any rate, is why Herod was troubled, and searched, and pried, and set about killing him. And indeed anywhere at all, whoever makes known a future king while the child is in his earliest years and still a private person does nothing but betray him to slaughter and stir up endless war against him.

Do you see how many absurdities appear if we examine these events by the ordinary course of human affairs and by common custom? Not only these points could be mentioned, but more besides, holding even more matter for questions than what we have said. But so as not to bewilder you by stringing question upon question, come, let us now take up the answers to what we have asked, and begin our answer with the star itself.

If you can learn what the star was, and what kind of star it was — whether it was one of the ordinary stars or new and unlike the rest, and whether it was a star by nature or a star in appearance only — we will easily understand the rest as well. Where, then, will these points become clear? From the very things that are written. [b]

That this star was not one of the ordinary sort — or rather, not a star at all, as it seems to me at least, but some invisible power changed into this appearance — is evident first of all from its very course. For there is no star, no star at all, that moves along this path. Whether you name the sun, or the moon, or all the other stars, we see them going from east to west; but this one was carried from north to south, for that is how Palestine lies in relation to Persia.

Second, one can see it from the time as well. It appears not at night but at midday, while the sun is shining, and that is not within the power of a star — not even of the moon. The moon, which so far surpasses all the rest, hides herself at once and vanishes when the rays of the sun appear. But this star, by the excess of its own brightness, overpowered even the rays of the sun, appearing brighter than they are and shining out more brilliantly in the midst of so much light.

Third, from its appearing and then hiding itself again. On their way as far as Palestine it appeared and led them; but after they set foot in Jerusalem, it hid itself. Then again, when they had left Herod, having told him why they had come, and were about to set out, it shows itself. None of this is like the motion of a star; it is like some power possessed of great intelligence. It had no course of its own at all. When they were to move, it moved; when they were to stop, it stopped, arranging everything as the need required — in the same way as the pillar of cloud, which at one time halted the camp of the Jews and at another roused it to march, whenever that was needed.

Fourth, one can see this clearly from the way it pointed him out. It did not stay up on high and point out the place, since they could not have made it out that way; it came down and did this work itself. For you know that a spot so small — only as much as a shed would take up, or rather as much as the body of a little infant would occupy — could not possibly be marked out by a star. Because of its immense height, it could not single out so narrow a spot clearly enough, or show it to those who wanted to see it. Anyone can see this from the moon. It is far greater than the stars, and yet to everyone living in the world, scattered over so great an expanse of earth — to every one of them, I say — it seems near. How then, tell me, did the star point out a spot so narrow, just the space of a manger and a shed, unless it left that height and came down and stood over the very head of the young child? This is what the evangelist was hinting at when he said, “Look, the star went ahead of them until it came and stood over where the young child was.”

Do you see with how many proofs this star is shown not to be one of the many, and not to have appeared according to the order of the visible creation? And why did it appear? To rebuke the Jews for their insensitivity, and to cut off every excuse for their willful ignorance. The one who came was going to put an end to the old way of life, and to call the world to worship him, and to be worshiped on every land and sea. So from the very beginning he opens the door to the Gentiles, wanting to warn his own people through strangers. The prophets were continually heard speaking of his coming, and the Jews paid no great attention to them; so he made even barbarians come from a far country to seek the king who was among them. And they learn first from a Persian tongue what they would not bring themselves to learn from the prophets. If they were inclined to be fair-minded, they would have the strongest motive to obey; if they were contentious, they would from then on be stripped of every excuse. For what could they have to say — they who did not receive Christ after so many prophets — when they saw that wise men, at the sight of a single star, had received him and had worshiped him when he was revealed? [d]

So he acted in the case of the magi much as he did in the case of the Ninevites, when he sent Jonah, and in the case of the Samaritan woman and the Canaanite woman. That is why he also said, “The men of Nineveh will rise up and will condemn,” and, “The queen of the South will rise up and will condemn this generation”: because these believed the lesser things, and the Jews did not believe even the greater.

“And why,” someone may say, “did he draw them by such a sight?” Why, what should he have done instead? Sent prophets? But the magi would not have submitted to prophets. Spoken with a voice from above? They would not have paid attention. Sent an angel? They would have hurried past him too. So for this reason God sets all those means aside and calls them by what is familiar to them, stooping very far down to meet them. He shows them a great and extraordinary star, to astonish them both with the size and beauty of its appearance and with the manner of its course.

Paul imitated this too. He reasons with the Greeks starting from a pagan altar, and brings forward testimony from the poets. When he addresses the Jews, he does not do it without circumcision. With those who live under the law, he makes sacrifices the starting point of his teaching. Since what is familiar is dear to everyone, both God and the people he sends manage things on this principle, with a view to the salvation of the world.

So do not think it unworthy of him to have called them by a star. By that same reasoning you will find fault with all the Jewish rites as well — the sacrifices, the purifications, the new moons, the ark, and even the temple itself. For these too had their origin in the crudeness of the Gentiles. Yet for all that, God, for the salvation of those who had gone astray, put up with being served by the very things through which outsiders were accustomed to serve demons. He only changed them slightly, so as to draw them away from their customs little by little and lead them toward the highest wisdom. He did just the same with the wise men. He did not disdain to call them by the sight of a star, so that he might lift them higher from then on. So after he has brought them, leading them by the hand, and has set them beside the manger, he speaks to them no longer by a star but by an angel. In this way, little by little, they became better men.

He did this also with the people of Ascalon and Gaza. Those five cities too had been struck by a deadly plague when the ark came among them, and found no relief from the evils they were suffering. So their people called their prophets, gathered an assembly, and looked for a way to escape this blow from God. Their prophets told them to yoke to the ark cows that had never been broken to the yoke and had just had their first calves, and to let them go their way with no one to guide them; for in that way it would become evident whether the plague came from God or whether some accident had brought the disease. “For if,” it says, “they break the yoke to pieces for lack of training, or turn toward where their calves are lowing, ‘it is chance that has happened’; but if they go straight on and do not stray from the road, and neither the lowing of their young nor their ignorance of the way has any effect on them, it is quite plain that it is the hand of God that has struck those cities.”

When the people of those cities obeyed these words of their prophets and did as they were told, God also went along with the counsel of the prophets. There too he stooped down to meet them, and did not think it beneath him to bring about what the prophets predicted and to make them seem trustworthy in what they had said. For in this way the good that was done was greater, since his very enemies bore witness to the power of God, and their own teachers cast their vote for him. One can see many other things of this kind brought about by God. What happened with the witch, again, is an arrangement of the same kind, and from what has been said you will now be able to explain it too.

These are the things we have to say about the star; and perhaps you can say still more, for it is written, “Give an opportunity to a wise man, and he will be wiser still.” But now we must come to the beginning of what has been read.

And what is the beginning? “When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, look, wise men came from the east to Jerusalem.” Wise men followed where a star led them, but the Jews did not believe, though the prophets were sounding in their ears. [i]

But why does he mention both the time and the place to us, saying “in Bethlehem” and “in the days of Herod the king”? And why does he add Herod’s rank as well? His rank, because there was also another Herod, the one who killed John; but that one was a tetrarch, and this one a king. The place and the time he sets down to remind us of ancient prophecies. One of them was spoken by Micah: “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah.” The other was spoken by the patriarch Jacob, who marks out the time for us plainly and sets out the great sign of his coming: “A ruler,” he says, “will not fail from Judah, nor a leader from his loins, until he comes for whom it is reserved; and he is the expectation of the nations.”

And this, again, is worth asking: how did they come to have such a thought, and who stirred them up to it? It does not seem to me to be the work of the star alone, but also of God, who moved their souls. He did the same kind of thing with Cyrus, disposing him to let the Jews go. Yet he did not do it in a way that destroyed their free will; for even when he called Paul from above with a voice, he showed both his own grace and Paul’s obedience.

And why, someone may ask, did he not reveal this to all the wise men of the East? Because not all of them would have believed, but these were better prepared than the rest. So too there were countless nations that perished, but the prophet was sent to the Ninevites alone; and there were two thieves on the cross, but only one was saved.

See the virtue of these men, then, not only in their coming, but also in the courage of their speech. So as not to seem some sort of impostors, they tell who showed them the way and how long their journey was; and when they arrived, they spoke out boldly. “We have come,” they say, “to worship him.” They were afraid neither of the people’s anger nor of the king’s tyranny. So to me, at least, they seem to have been teachers of their fellow countrymen at home as well. For men who did not shrink from saying this here would speak out much more boldly in their own country, since they had received both the message from the angel and the testimony from the prophet.

“But when Herod heard this,” says the Scripture, “he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” Herod naturally was, since he was king and was afraid for himself and for his children. But why Jerusalem? Surely the prophets had foretold him as a Savior, and a Benefactor, and a Deliverer from above. Why, then, was Jerusalem troubled? From the same feeling that had made them, earlier too, turn away from God when he was pouring out his benefits on them, and think longingly of the fleshpots of Egypt while they were enjoying great freedom. [m]

But notice, please, how precise the prophets are. For the prophet had foretold this very thing from the first: “They would be glad if they had been burned with fire; for to us a child is born, to us a son is given.”

But even so, troubled though they were, they do not try to see what has happened. They do not follow the wise men, or make any particular inquiry; to such a degree were they both contentious and careless, beyond all other people. They had reason, rather, to be proud that the king had been born among them and had drawn the land of the Persians to himself, and that they were about to have everyone subject to them — as though their affairs had taken a turn for the better, and his rule had become so glorious from the very outset. Yet even this did not make them any better. And they had only just been freed from their captivity there. It would have been natural for them to think — even if they knew none of the lofty and hidden things, but judged only from what was in front of them — “If they tremble like this before our king at his birth, how much more will they fear and obey him when he is grown, and our condition will be more glorious than that of the barbarians.”

But none of this rouses them thoroughly, so great was their dullness, and their envy along with it. We must root both of these out of our minds with great care; and whoever is to take his place in such a battle line must burn hotter than fire. That is why Christ also said, “I have come to send fire on the earth, and I wish it were already kindled.” And for the same reason the Spirit appears in fire. [p]

But we have grown colder than ashes and more lifeless than the dead — and this when we see Paul soaring above heaven, and the heaven of heaven, more fervent than any flame, conquering and passing beyond all things: the things below and the things above, the things present and the things to come, the things that are and the things that are not. But if that example is too great for you — first of all, that very excuse comes from laziness. What did Paul have more than you, that you should say it is impossible for you to imitate him? However, so as not to be contentious, let us leave Paul aside and consider the first believers. They threw away both possessions and profits, together with all the cares of this world and all its leisure, and gave themselves to God entirely, devoting themselves every night and day to the teaching of the word.

For such is the fire of the Spirit: it does not let us have any desire for the things here, but carries us over to another love. That is why whoever has set his love on such things does all of it with perfect ease — whether what he has must be given away, or luxury or glory laughed to scorn, or his very life given up. For the warmth of that fire, entering the soul, drives out all sluggishness and makes the one it has seized lighter than anything that flies. From then on he looks past the things that are seen and lives in constant sorrow of heart, pouring out fountains of tears that never fail, and reaping from them the fruit of great delight. For nothing binds and unites us to God like such tears.

Such a person, though he lives in the middle of cities, spends his time as if he were in a desert, in mountains and woods. He sees none of the people around him, and never has his fill of such weeping, whether it is for himself or for the negligence of others that he weeps. That is why God called these people blessed above all the rest, saying, “Blessed are those who mourn.”

Then how can Paul say, “Rejoice in the Lord always”? The joy he means is the joy that springs from those tears. For just as the joy people take in the world has sorrow allotted along with it, so tears shed for God’s sake are the seed of a joy that lasts forever and never fades. This is how the prostitute herself, once this fire had seized her, came to be held in more honor than virgins. Warmed through by repentance, she was from then on carried out of herself by her longing for Christ. She let down her hair, drenched his holy feet with her tears, wiped them with her own locks, and poured out all the ointment. All these were only the outward signs; what was happening in her mind burned far hotter, and God alone saw it. That is why everyone who hears of her rejoices with her, delights in her good deeds, and clears her of all blame. And if we, who are evil, judge her so, think what verdict she received from God, who loves mankind, and how great a blessing her repentance brought her even before God gave his gifts. [s]

Just as a violent downpour leaves a clear, open sky behind it, so when tears pour down, calm and serenity follow, and the darkness our sins bring on us vanishes entirely. And just as we were cleansed by water and the Spirit, so by tears and confession we are cleansed a second time — provided we are not doing it for show and vanity. A woman who wept tears of that kind I would rightly call more to be condemned than if she had decked herself out with painted lines and color. The tears I am looking for are those shed not for show but from a pierced heart: tears that trickle down in secret, in private rooms, where no one sees, softly and without a sound; tears that rise from somewhere deep in the mind, shed in anguish and grief; tears for God alone. Such were Hannah’s. “Her lips moved,” Scripture says, “but her voice was not heard.” Yet her tears by themselves cried out more clearly than any trumpet. And that is why God opened her womb and turned the hard rock into a fruitful field.

If you weep like this, you have become a follower of your Lord. For he too wept, over Lazarus and over the city, and he was deeply troubled about Judas. One can often see him doing this, but nowhere laughing, or even smiling a little; at any rate none of the evangelists has mentioned it. So too with Paul. That he wept, and wept night and day for three years, he says of himself, and others say of him. But that he laughed, he himself never says anywhere, and not one of the other saints says it either, of him or of anyone like him. It is said only of Sarah, when she is rebuked, and of Noah’s son, when he went from being a free man to being a slave.

I say these things, not to abolish laughter altogether, but to do away with a loose and scattered mind. Tell me, why are you living in luxury and self-indulgence while you still lie under such heavy charges, and are going to stand before a fearful judgment seat and give a strict account of everything done here? Yes, for we must give an account both of the sins we committed willingly and of those we committed against our will. “Whoever denies me before men,” he says, “him I will also deny before my Father.” Such a denial is surely against our will; nevertheless it does not escape punishment, and we must give an account of it too. We must answer both for what we know and for what we do not know: “For I am aware of nothing against myself,” says one, “yet I am not counted righteous by this.” We must answer both for what we have done in ignorance and for what we have done knowingly: “For I bear them witness,” it says, “that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge”; and yet this is not enough to excuse them. And writing to the Corinthians as well, he says, “For I fear that somehow, as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.” With so much, then, to give an account for, do you sit laughing, trading witticisms, and giving yourself up to luxury? [aa]

Someone may say: “Why? If I did not do that, but mourned instead, what would I gain?” A very great deal — so much that it cannot even be put into words. In the courts of this world, however much you weep, you cannot escape punishment once the sentence has been passed. Here, on the contrary, if you only sigh, you have cancelled the sentence and gained pardon. That is why Christ speaks to us so much about mourning, blesses those who mourn, and calls those who laugh wretched. This is no theater for laughter. We did not come together to give way to unrestrained mirth, but to groan, and by groaning to inherit a kingdom. When you stand beside a king, you would not dare so much as smile. Yet with the Lord of the angels dwelling in you, do you not stand in trembling and all due restraint, but laugh instead, and often when he is displeased? And do you not realize that you provoke him more this way than by your sins? For God does not turn away so much from those who sin as from those who are not struck with awe after their sins.

Yet for all this, some are so senseless that even after these words they say: “No — far be it from me ever to weep! May God grant me to laugh and play all my days.” What could be more childish than that way of thinking? It is not God who grants play; it is the devil. Listen, at least, to what became of those who played: “The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play.” Such were the people of Sodom; such were those at the time of the flood. Of Sodom, too, it is said that “in pride, and in plenty, and in fullness of bread, they lived wantonly.” And those in Noah’s time, watching the ark being built for so many years, went on in senseless mirth, foreseeing nothing of what was coming. That is why the flood came and swept them all away, and in that one moment made a common shipwreck of the whole world.

Do not ask God, then, for what you receive from the devil. It is God’s part to give a heart that is crushed and humbled, sober, self-possessed and awestruck, full of repentance and of heartfelt sorrow. These are his gifts, because these are also the things we most need. For a hard struggle is at hand. Our wrestling is against the unseen powers; our fight is against “spiritual wickedness,” our warfare “against rulers, against powers.” It will be well for us if, earnest and sober and wide awake, we are able to withstand that savage battle line. But if we are laughing and playing and always taking things easy, we will be overthrown by our own slackness before the battle even begins.

It is not fitting for us, then, to be forever laughing, loose and pleasure-loving. That belongs to those on the stage, to the prostitutes, to the men groomed for that trade, to hangers-on and flatterers. It does not belong to those who are called to heaven, not to those enrolled as citizens of the city above, not to those who bear spiritual arms, but to those enlisted on the devil’s side. For it is he — yes, it is he — who even made the thing into an art, to weaken Christ’s soldiers and slacken the sinews of their zeal. That is why he also built theaters in the cities. He trained those clowns, and through their deadly influence he makes that plague settle on the whole city, persuading people to pursue the very things Paul told us to flee, “foolish talking and jesting.” [ak]

And what is worse still is what they laugh at. When the performers of those absurdities utter some blasphemy or some filth, many of the more thoughtless laugh and are delighted. They applaud in them what they ought to stone them for, and by this amusement they bring the furnace of fire down on their own heads. For those who praise the people who say such things are, above all, the ones who lead them to say them, and so they would more justly be held answerable for the penalty these things carry. If there were no one to watch such things, there would be no one to act them. But when the actors see you abandoning your workshops and your trades and the income they bring, and in short everything, so as to stay on there, they grow all the more eager and put all the more effort into these things.

I say this, not to free them from blame, but so that you may learn that it is chiefly you who supply the source and root of such lawlessness — you who spend your whole day on these things, who make a profane show of the sacred things of marriage and openly mock the great mystery. The man who acts these things is not so much the offender as you are, before him: you who tell him to make a play of them, or rather who not only tell him to but are eager for it, delighting in it, laughing, praising what is done, and in every way strengthening such workshops of the devil.

Tell me, then: with what eyes will you look at your wife at home after this, having seen her insulted there? How can you not blush when you are reminded of the partner of your home, as you watch nature itself put to open shame? Do not tell me that it is only acting. This acting has made many adulterers and overturned many households. And what grieves me most of all is that what is done does not even seem evil; instead there is applause and shouting and loud laughter while so foul an adultery is committed. What do you say — that it is only acting? For that very reason they deserve ten thousand deaths: they have taken pains to imitate what every law commands people to flee. If the thing itself is evil, the imitation of it is evil too. And I am not yet speaking of how many adulterers are made by those who act out these scenes of adultery, or how they make the spectators brazen and shameless. For nothing is more steeped in sexual immorality and brazenness than an eye that can bear to look at such things.

In the marketplace you would not want to see a woman stripped naked — no, not even in a house; you would call such a thing an outrage. And do you go up to the theater to insult the nature that men and women share and to disgrace your own eyes? Do not tell me that the woman stripped there is a prostitute. The nature is the same, and the bodies are alike, the prostitute’s and the free woman’s. If there is nothing wrong in it, why is it that if you saw this happening in the marketplace, you would hurry away yourself and drive off the woman behaving so indecently? Or is it that when we are apart such a thing is an outrage, but when we are all gathered and sitting together it is no longer so shameful? No — this is absurd and disgraceful, the talk of utter madness. It would be better to smear your eyes all over with mud and mire than to watch such a transgression. Mud does not harm the eye as much as an unchaste sight does, the spectacle of a woman stripped naked.

Hear, for example, what caused nakedness in the beginning, and read what brought on such disgrace. What was it, then, that caused nakedness? Our disobedience, and the devil’s advice. So from the first, from the very beginning, this was his scheme. Yet they at least were ashamed when they were naked; but you take pride in it, “having your glory in your shame,” as the apostle’s saying goes. How, then, will your wife look at you after this, when you come home from such wickedness? How will she receive you? How will she speak to you, after you have so publicly shamed the nature all women share, and been made the captive and slave of prostitutes by such a sight?

Now if you are grieved at hearing these things, I thank you very much, for “who is it that makes me glad, but the one who is made sorry by me?” So never stop grieving and being troubled over these things, for the sorrow that comes from them will be for you the beginning of a change for the better. That is why I too have spoken more strongly: so that by cutting deeper I might free you from the poison of those who intoxicate you, and bring you back to a pure health of soul. May God grant that we all enjoy it in every way, and attain the rewards laid up for these good deeds, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.