Homily 63 — Matthew 19, verses 16 to 26

“And behold, someone came and said to him, ‘Good Teacher, by doing what shall I inherit eternal life?’” [a]

Some people accuse this young man of being insincere and ill-disposed, and of coming to Jesus to test him. For my part, I would not say that he was free of the love of money or that he was not in bondage to his wealth, since Christ in fact exposed him as that kind of man. But I would by no means call him a hypocrite. For one thing, it is not safe to venture onto uncertain ground, least of all when we are blaming someone. For another, Mark has removed this suspicion. He says that “he came running up to him, knelt before him, and begged him,” and that “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”

But the tyranny of wealth is great, and this makes it plain. I mean that even if we are virtuous in everything else, this one thing ruins all the rest. Paul had good reason to call it the root of all evils without exception. “For the love of money is the root of all evils,” he says.

Why, then, does Christ answer him this way, saying, “No one is good”? Because the young man came to him as to a mere man, one of the ordinary sort, a Jewish teacher. That is why he talks with him as a man. In fact, in many cases he answers the hidden thoughts of those who come to him, as when he says, “We worship what we know,” and, “If I bear witness about myself, my witness is not true.” So when he says, “No one is good,” he is not saying it to put himself outside of goodness — far from it. He did not say, “Why do you call me good? I am not good.” He said, “No one is good,” that is, no one among human beings.

And even when he says this very thing, he does not say it to strip human beings of goodness as well, but to set their goodness against the goodness of God. That is why he added, “except one, that is, God.” And he did not say, “except my Father,” so that you would learn that he had not revealed himself to the young man. In the same way, earlier on, he called people evil, saying, “If you, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children.” There too he called them evil, not to condemn the whole human race as evil — for by “you” he does not mean “you human beings” — but because he was comparing the goodness in human beings with the goodness of God, he gave it that name. That is why he also added, “how much more will your Father give good things to those who ask him?”

And what moved him to answer in this way, or what good did it do? He is leading the young man on little by little. He is teaching him to keep far away from all flattery, drawing him off from the things on earth and fastening him to God. He is persuading him to seek the things to come, to know what is truly good, the root and fountain of all things, and to give the honor to him.

So too, when he says, “Call no one master on earth,” he says it by contrast with himself, so that they would learn who holds the first rule over all that exists. For it was no small eagerness the young man had shown up to this point, in having come to such a desire. While of the rest some were testing him, and some were coming to him for the cure of diseases, their own or other people’s, this man was coming to him and talking with him about eternal life. The land was fertile and rich, but the mass of thorns choked the seed.

Notice, at any rate, how ready he is up to this point to obey the commandments. “By doing what,” he says, “shall I inherit eternal life?” That is how ready he was to carry out whatever he would be told. But if he had come to test him, the evangelist would have told us this too, as he does with the others, as in the case of the lawyer. And even if the evangelist had said nothing, Christ would not have let the young man stay hidden. He would have exposed him plainly, or at least hinted at it, so that the young man would not think he had deceived him and gone undetected, and be harmed by that.

If he had come to test him, he would not have gone away grieved at what he heard. That was never, at any rate, the feeling of any of the Pharisees; they grew savage when they were silenced. But not this man. He goes away downcast, and that is no small sign that he had not come with an evil will, but with a will that was too weak; that he truly did desire life, but was held in bondage by another feeling, and a most grievous one.

So when Christ said, “If you want to enter into life, keep the commandments,” he asks, “Which ones?” He was not testing him, far from it. He supposed there were some others besides those of the law that would win him life, and that is the question of a man who wanted it very much. Then, when Jesus named the ones from the law, he says, “All these I have kept from my youth.” And he did not stop even there, but asks again, “What do I still lack?” — and this too was a sign of his very earnest desire. What, then, does Christ say? Since he was about to command something great, he sets out the rewards, and says, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

Do you see how many prizes, how many crowns, he sets out for this race? If the young man had been testing him, he would not have told him these things. But as it is, he both says it and, to draw him on, shows him that the reward is great. He leaves it all to the young man’s own choice, and in every way keeps in the shadow what seemed hard in his advice. That is why, even before he mentions the contests and the toil, he shows him the prize, saying, “If you want to be perfect.” Then he says, “Sell what you have and give to the poor,” and at once the rewards again: “You will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” For to follow him is itself a great reward. “And you will have treasure in heaven.” [f]

Since the conversation was about money, he advised him to strip himself of all of it, showing that he would not lose what he had but add to his possessions. He gave him more than he asked him to give up — and not only more, but as much more as heaven is greater than earth, and even more than that.

He called it a treasure to show how abundant the reward is, how lasting, how secure, as far as it was possible to hint at it to a hearer through human comparisons. So it is not enough to despise wealth. We must also support the poor, and above all follow Christ: that is, do everything he commands, and be ready to be slaughtered and to die daily. “For if anyone wants to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” So casting away one’s money is a far smaller thing than this last command, to shed even one’s very blood. Yet being freed from wealth does no small amount toward it.

“But when the young man heard it, he went away sorrowful.” After this the evangelist, as though to show that the young man had felt nothing that was not to be expected, says, “For he had great possessions.” Those who have little are not held in bondage in the same way as those who are flooded with great abundance, for then the love of it becomes more tyrannical. I never stop saying this: that adding to what one owns kindles the flame even more and makes those who gain it poorer, since it puts them in greater desire and makes them feel their want more keenly.

See, for example, how much strength this passion showed even here. The young man had come to him with joy and eagerness. But when Christ told him to cast away his riches, it so overwhelmed him and weighed him down that it did not let him answer so much as a word about these things. He went away silent, dejected and gloomy.

What, then, does Christ say? “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven!” He is blaming not riches but those who are held in bondage by them. And if the rich man enters only “with difficulty,” how much more the greedy man! For if not giving away what is one’s own is a hindrance to entering the kingdom, think how much fire is heaped up by taking what belongs to others.

But why did he say to his disciples that “it is hard for a rich man to enter,” when they were poor men and had no possessions? He was teaching them not to be ashamed of their poverty, and was, as it were, explaining himself to them for letting them have nothing. And having said it was hard, he goes on to show that it is actually impossible — and not merely impossible, but impossible in the highest degree. This he showed by the comparison of the camel and the needle.

“It is easier,” he says, “for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” This shows that there is no ordinary reward for those who are rich and are able to practice self-control. That is why he also declared it a work of God: to show that great grace is needed by anyone who is to accomplish this. At any rate, when the disciples were troubled, he said, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

And why are the disciples troubled, when they are poor, and extremely poor at that? Why, then, are they thrown into confusion? They were in pain over the salvation of others. They had a great love for everyone, and had already taken on the tender heart of teachers. At any rate, this saying made them tremble and fear so much for the whole world that they needed a great deal of comfort.

So first “he looked at them,” and then “he said to them, ‘What is impossible with men is possible with God.’” With a mild and gentle look he calmed their shuddering minds and put an end to their distress — this is what the evangelist meant by saying, “He looked at them” — and then he relieves them with his words as well, setting God’s power before them and so giving them confidence.

But if you want to learn how it is done as well, and how what is impossible may become possible, listen. He did not say, “What is impossible with men is possible with God,” so that you would give up and keep away from it, as from something impossible. He said it so that you would consider how great the good deed is and hurry toward it eagerly, and, having begged God to help you in these noble contests, attain to life.

How, then, could this become possible? If you cast away what you have, if you empty yourself of your wealth, if you hold back from the wicked desire. To prove that he does not leave the matter to God alone, but said this so that you would know how vast the good deed is, listen to what follows. When Peter had said, “Look, we have left everything and followed you,” and had asked, “What then will we have?” Christ set out their reward, and then added, “And everyone who has left houses, or lands, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, will receive a hundred times as much, and will inherit eternal life.” This is how what is impossible becomes possible. [h]

But someone may say: “How can this very thing be done — how can a person leave these things behind? How is it possible for someone who has once sunk into such a craving for wealth to recover himself?” If he begins to empty himself of his possessions and to cut away what is more than he needs. In this way he will both make further progress and afterward run his course more easily.

So do not look for everything at once. Climb this ladder that leads you up to heaven gently, little by little. Think of people in a fever, with bitter bile overflowing inside them. When they pour food and drink on top of it, far from quenching their thirst, they make the flame burn higher. So too the greedy, when they pour their wealth onto this wicked craving, which is more bitter than that bile, only inflame it further. Nothing checks it so well as holding back for a while from the craving for gain, just as bitter bile is checked by fasting and purging.

Someone may say: “But this itself — how will it be done?” If you consider that as long as you are rich you will never stop thirsting and wasting away with the craving for more, but once you are freed from your possessions you will be able to check this disease as well. So do not surround yourself with more, or you will be chasing what can never be reached, you will be past cure, and you will be the most miserable of all, raving like this.

Tell me, which one shall we call tormented and in pain: the man who longs for expensive food and drink and cannot enjoy it as he likes, or the man who has no such desire? It is perfectly clear that we must say the one who desires and cannot get what he desires. For this — to desire and not to enjoy, to thirst and not to drink — is so painful that when Christ wanted to describe hell to us, he described it this way, and brought in the rich man tormented like this. Longing for a drop of water and not getting it: that was his punishment.

So the man who despises wealth quiets the desire, but the man who wants to be rich inflames it more, and even then he does not stop. Though he has gained ten thousand talents, he wants as many more; and though he gets those, he next sets his sights on having the sea and everything else turn to gold for him. He is mad with a new and fearful kind of madness, one that can never be put out this way.

And so that you may learn that this evil is stopped not by adding but by taking away, suppose you had ever had the absurd desire to fly and be carried through the air. How would you put out this unreasonable desire? By making wings and preparing other equipment, or by convincing your mind that it is desiring what is impossible, and that you should attempt nothing of the kind? It is perfectly plain: by convincing your mind.

You may say: “But that is impossible.” But this other thing is more impossible still: to find a limit for this desire. It is easier for people to fly than to make this craving stop by adding more to it. When the things desired are possible, a person may be soothed by enjoying them. But when they are impossible, we must work at one thing only, drawing ourselves away from the desire; otherwise there is no way to recover the soul.

So, so that we do not bring needless sorrows on ourselves, let us leave behind the love of money, which is always giving pain and never lets itself be quiet. Let us move over to another love, one that makes us happy and is very easy, and let us long for the treasures above. The labor here is not so great, and the gain is beyond words; and no one who is at all watchful and sober-minded, and despises the things of the present, can fail to win them. Just as, on the other hand, the man who is a slave to these present things and is wholly given over to them cannot help but fail to win those better riches.

Consider all these things, then, and put away the wicked desire for wealth. For you cannot even say that it gives us the things of the present, though it robs us of the things to come — and even if that were so, it would be the extreme of punishment and retribution. But even before hell, here and now it throws you into a more grievous punishment. This craving has overthrown many households, stirred up fierce wars, and forced people to end their lives by a violent death. And before these dangers, it ruins the nobility of the soul. It often makes the one who has it cowardly and unmanly, rash and false, slanderous, grasping and cheating, and everything that is worst. [j]

But perhaps, when you see the gleam of the silver, the crowd of servants, the beauty of the buildings, the homage paid in the marketplace, you are bewitched by it? What cure can there be, then, for this evil wound? Consider how these things affect your soul: how dark and desolate and filthy they make it, and how ugly. Reckon up how many evils these things were gained with, how much labor it takes to keep them, and how many dangers. Or rather, they are not kept to the end. When you have escaped every attempt on them, death comes upon you and often hands them over to your enemies, and it goes off taking you with it stripped of everything, bringing none of these things along except the wounds and sores the soul received from them before it departed.

So when you see someone dazzling on the outside with clothes and a great train of attendants, lay bare his conscience, and you will see many cobwebs inside and a great deal of dust. Consider Paul and Peter; consider John and Elijah; or rather, consider the Son of God himself, who “has nowhere to lay his head.” Imitate him and his servants, and picture to yourself their riches, which are beyond words.

But if, after these things have given you a little sight, you are darkened again, as in a shipwreck when a storm has come on, listen to the declaration of Christ, which says that it is impossible “for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Against this declaration set the mountains and the earth and the sea; imagine, if you like, that everything is gold. You will see nothing equal to the loss that comes to you from it.

You talk of acres of land, so many and so many; of houses, ten or twenty or even more; of as many baths; of a thousand slaves, or twice that; of carriages fitted with silver and overlaid with gold. But I say this. Suppose each of you who are rich were to leave this poverty behind — for these things are poverty compared with what I am about to say — and possessed a whole world. Suppose each of you had as many people as there now are everywhere on land and sea; each a world, both sea and land, and buildings everywhere, and cities and nations; and suppose that on every side, instead of water, instead of springs, gold came flowing up for him. I would not say that people so rich are worth three pennies, when they are cast out of the kingdom. For if even now, aiming at riches that perish, they are tormented when they miss them, then once they come to perceive those blessings beyond words, what will be enough to console them? There is nothing.

So do not tell me about the abundance of their possessions. Consider instead how great a loss the lovers of this abundance suffer because of it: for these things they lose heaven. They are in the same state as a man who had been thrown out of the highest honor at a king’s court and then prided himself on owning a dung heap. For storing up money is no different from that — or rather, the dung heap is the better of the two. It is useful for farming, for heating a bath, and for other such purposes; but buried gold is useful for none of these. And if only it were merely useless! But as it is, it also lights many furnaces for the one who has it, unless he uses it rightly. Countless evils, at any rate, spring from it.

That is why those outside the church used to call the love of money the citadel of evils. But the blessed Paul said it much better and more vividly, calling it “the root of all evils.”

Considering all these things, then, let us strive to match what is worth matching: not splendid buildings, not costly estates, but the men who have great confidence before God, who have riches in heaven — the owners of those treasures, those who are truly rich, those who are poor for Christ’s sake. So may we attain the everlasting good things, 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 Spirit, now and always and forever and ever. Amen.