Homily 67 — Matthew 21, verses 12 to 32

“And Jesus went into the temple, and drove out all those who sold and bought in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves, and said to them, ‘It is written, My house will be called a house of prayer; but you have made it a den of thieves.’” [a]

John tells of this too, but he tells it at the beginning of his Gospel, and Matthew at the end. So it is likely that this was done twice, and at different times. That is clear both from the times and from the reply they gave. There he came at the Passover itself, but here well before it. And there the Jews say, “What sign do you show us?” but here they keep quiet, though they are rebuked, because by now everyone marveled at him.

And this makes the charge against the Jews heavier. He had done this not once only but a second time, and still they kept on with their trading and called him an enemy of God, when even from this they should have learned the honor he gave his Father and his own power. For he was also working miracles, and they saw his words agreeing with his works. But even so they were not persuaded; they “were greatly displeased,” and that while they heard the prophet crying aloud, and the children, in a way beyond their years, proclaiming him. That is why he himself sets up Isaiah against them as their accuser, saying, “My house will be called a house of prayer.”

But it is not only in this way that he shows his authority; he shows it also by healing all kinds of illnesses. “The blind and the lame came to him, and he healed them.” So he points to his power and authority.

But even so they would not be persuaded. Along with the rest of the miracles, they heard even the children proclaiming him, and they were ready to choke, and said, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And yet it was Christ’s place to say this to them: “Do you not hear what these are saying?” For the children were singing to him as to God.

What, then, does he say? Since they were speaking against what was plain to see, he applies his correction more by way of rebuke, saying, “Have you never read, ‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies you have perfected praise’?” And he was right to say “out of the mouth.” For what was said did not come from their understanding. It came from his power, which gave speech to their tongues while they were still unformed.

This was also a type of the Gentiles, who lisped and at once sounded out great things with understanding and faith. And there was no small comfort in it for the apostles too. They might have been at a loss how, being unlearned men, they would be able to preach the good news. So the children go ahead of them and take away all their anxiety, teaching them that he who made even these sing his praises would give them speech. And not only that: the miracle showed that he is the Creator of nature itself. So the children, though so young, said things that had a clear meaning and were in harmony with those above, while the men said things full of frenzy and madness. For such is the nature of wickedness. Since, then, there were many things to provoke them — the crowd, the driving out of the sellers, the miracles, the children — he leaves them again, to give their swelling passion room. He did not want to begin his teaching, in case, boiling with envy, they would be all the more displeased at what he said.

“Now in the morning, as he was returning to the city, he was hungry.” How is he hungry in the morning? When he permits the flesh, then it shows what it feels. “And when he saw a fig tree by the road, he came to it, and found nothing on it but leaves only.” Another evangelist says, “It was not yet the season for figs.” But if it was not the season, how does the other evangelist say, “He came, to see if perhaps he would find fruit on it”? From this it is plain that this belongs to what his disciples supposed, for they were still in a rather imperfect state. The evangelists do record the disciples’ suppositions in many places.

Just as this was what they supposed, so too it was their supposition that the tree was cursed for this reason, for having no fruit. Why, then, was it cursed? For the disciples’ sake, so that they might have confidence. Everywhere he had been doing good, and he had punished no one. But he needed to give them a clear proof of his power to punish as well. Then both the disciples and the Jews would learn that, though he was able to wither those who crucify him, he submits of his own will and does not wither them. It was not his will to show this on human beings, so he gave the proof of his power to punish on the plant. And when something like this is done to places, or to plants, or to animals without reason, do not be overly curious, and do not say, “How was the fig tree justly withered, if it was not the season for figs?” To say that is the height of triviality. But look at the miracle, and wonder at it, and glorify the one who worked it.

In the case of the pigs that were drowned, too, many have said this, working out the argument about justice. But there too no one should pay attention to it, for these again are animals without reason, just as the fig tree was a plant without life. Why, then, was the act given such an appearance, with this reason offered for the curse? As I said, this was what the disciples supposed. But if it was not yet the season, it is in vain that some say the law is meant here. For the law’s fruit was faith, and that was the very season for this fruit, and the law had indeed borne it. “For the fields are already white for harvest,” he says; and, “I sent you to reap what you did not labor for.”

So he is not hinting at any of these things here. It is as I said: he is displaying his power to punish. And this is shown by the words “it was not yet the season,” which make it clear that he went there for this special purpose, not because he was hungry, but for his disciples’ sake. And they marveled greatly, though many greater miracles had been done. But, as I said, this was strange to them, for now for the first time he showed his power to punish. That is why he worked the miracle on the moistest of all growing things and on no other, so that in this way too the miracle would appear greater. [h]

And so that you may learn that this was done for their sake, to train them to be confident, listen to what he says afterward. What does he say? “You also will do greater things, if you are willing to believe and to be confident in prayer.” Do you see that everything is done for their sake, so that they would not be afraid and tremble at the plots against them? That is why he says this a second time too, to make them cling to prayer and faith. “For you will not only do this, but you will also move mountains; and you will do many more things, if you are confident in faith and prayer.”

But the Jews, boastful and arrogant as they were, wanting to break off his teaching, came to him and asked, “By what authority are you doing these things?” Since they could find no fault with the miracles, they bring up against him his correction of the traders in the temple. In John too they appear to ask this, not in these words, but with the same intent. For there too they say, “What sign do you show us, seeing that you do these things?” But there he answers them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up,” while here he drives them into a corner. From this it is plain that that was the beginning and the prelude of the miracles, and this was the end.

What they mean is this: “Have you taken the teacher’s chair? Have you been ordained a priest, that you have put on such a display of authority?” And yet he had done nothing that implied arrogance; he had only taken care for good order in the temple. Nevertheless, having nothing to say, they bring this against him. When he drove the traders out, they did not dare to say anything, because of the miracles; but when he showed himself, then they find fault with him.

What, then, does he say? He does not answer them directly, to show that if they had been willing to see his authority, they could have. Instead he asks them in return, saying, “The baptism of John — where was it from? From heaven, or from men?”

And what sort of argument is this? The strongest there is. For if they had said, “From heaven,” he would have said to them, “Why then did you not believe him?” If they had believed him, they would not have been asking these things. For John had said of him, “I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandal”; and, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world”; and, “This is the Son of God”; and, “He who comes from above is above all”; and, “His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will thoroughly clear his threshing floor.” So if they had believed John, nothing would have stopped them from knowing by what authority Christ does these things.

After this, because they were being crafty and said, “We do not know,” he did not say, “Neither do I know.” What did he say? “Neither will I tell you.” If they had really been ignorant, they would have needed to be taught; but since they were being crafty, he was right to answer them nothing.

And why did they not say that the baptism was from men? “They feared the people,” it says. Do you see a warped heart? In every case they despise God and do everything for the sake of men. They feared John too for men’s sake, not out of reverence for the holy man, but on account of men. And they were not willing to believe in Christ because of men, and all their evils sprang from this.

After this he says, “What do you think? A man had two sons, and he said to the first, ‘Go, work today in the vineyard.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he came to the second and said the same. He answered, ‘I go, sir,’ and did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father? They say, ‘The first.’” Again he convicts them by a parable, pointing out both their unreasonable stubbornness and the readiness to obey of those whom they utterly condemned. For these two children show what happened with both the Gentiles and the Jews. The Gentiles had not undertaken to obey and had not become hearers of the law, yet they showed their obedience in their works. The Jews had said, “All that the Lord says we will do, and we will listen,” and yet in their works they disobeyed. And for this reason, let me add — so that they would not think the law would do them any good — he shows that this very law condemns them, as Paul also says: “It is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law will be counted righteous.” With this aim, to make them condemn themselves, he has the judgment delivered by themselves, as he does also in the parable of the vineyard that follows.

And to bring this about, he tests the charge in the person of someone else. Since they were not willing to confess it directly, he drives them by a parable to the point he wanted. [m]

But when they had delivered their judgment, not understanding what he meant, he then unfolds his hidden meaning and says, “The tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of heaven ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him; but the tax collectors believed him. And you, when you had seen it, did not change your minds afterward, so as to believe him.”

If he had simply said, “The prostitutes go ahead of you,” the words would have seemed offensive to them. But as it is, spoken after their own judgment, they do not seem too harsh.

So he adds the charge as well. What is it? “John came to you,” he says — not to them — and not only that, but “in the way of righteousness.” “You cannot find fault with him on this score either, as if he were some careless man who did no good. No, his life was beyond reproach, and his care for you was great, and you paid no attention to him.”

And along with this there is another charge too: that the tax collectors paid attention. And with this there is yet another: “Not even after them did you do so. You should have done it even before them; but not to do it even after them left you without any excuse.” Beyond words was both the praise of the one group and the charge against the other. “He came to you, and you did not accept him. He did not come to them, and they receive him. And you did not even take them as your teachers.”

See how many things show the praise of the one group and the charge against the other. He came to you, not to them. You did not believe; that did not put them off. They believed; that did you no good.

But the words “go ahead of you” do not mean that these men follow after them, but that they have hope, if they are willing. For nothing rouses the coarser sort so much as jealousy. That is why he is always saying, “The first will be last, and the last first.” That is why he brought in both prostitutes and tax collectors: to provoke them to jealousy.

For these two are the chief sins, born of violent craving: the one of sexual desire, the other of the desire for money. And he shows that this above all was hearing the law of God: to believe John. For it was not by grace only that the prostitutes entered, but also by righteousness. They did not enter while remaining prostitutes; they entered after they had obeyed and believed, after they had been cleansed and turned around.

Do you see how he made his words less offensive and more piercing by the parable, and by bringing in the prostitutes? He did not say at once, “Why did you not believe John?” He first set before them the tax collectors and the prostitutes, and then added this, which stung far more. So he convicted their unpardonable conduct by the order of events, and showed that they do everything out of fear of men and for empty glory. For they did not confess Christ, out of fear that they would be put out of the synagogue. And again, they did not dare speak evil of John, and not even this out of reverence, but out of fear. He convicted all these things by what he said, and afterward he went on to strike the blow more severely, saying, “But you, when you knew it, did not change your minds afterward, so as to believe him.”

It is a bad thing not to choose the good at the start; but it is a heavier charge not to be brought around even afterward. For this above all is what makes many people wicked, and I see it to be the case with some now, from their utter lack of feeling.

But let no one be like this. Even if someone has sunk to the very depths of wickedness, let him not despair of a change for the better. For it is an easy thing to rise up out of the very abysses of wickedness.

Have you not heard how that prostitute, who outdid everyone in lewdness, outshone everyone in reverence for God? I do not mean the prostitute in the Gospels, but the one in our own generation, who came from Phoenicia, that most lawless city. She was once a prostitute among us, holding first place on the stage, and her name was great everywhere — not only in our city, but as far away as the Cilicians and the Cappadocians. She ruined many estates and brought down many orphans. Many accused her of sorcery too, saying she wove her nets not only with the beauty of her body but also with her potions. This prostitute once captured even the brother of the empress, so mighty was her tyranny.

But all at once — I do not know how, or rather I know it well: it was by making up her mind, and turning, and drawing God’s grace down on herself — she despised all those things, threw off the arts of the demons, and climbed up to heaven.

Nothing was more vile than she was when she was on the stage. Yet afterward she surpassed many in extraordinary self-control. She clothed herself in sackcloth and spent all her time disciplining herself that way. Because of this woman the governor was stirred up and soldiers were armed, yet they did not have the strength to drag her off to the stage, or to lead her away from the virgins who had taken her in.

This woman was counted worthy of the mysteries beyond words, and she showed a diligence to match the grace given her. So she ended her life, having washed everything away through grace, and after her baptism having shown great self-restraint. She would not allow even a sight of herself to those who had once been her lovers, when they came for that purpose. She shut herself up and spent many years as though in a prison. So “the last will be first, and the first last.” So in every case we need a fervent soul, and there is nothing to stop anyone from becoming great and admirable.

So let no one who lives in vice despair; let no one who lives in virtue grow drowsy. Let the one who lives in virtue not be overconfident, for often the prostitute will pass him by; and let the other not despair, for he can pass even the first. [r]

Hear what God says to Jerusalem: “After she had committed all these acts of prostitution, I said, ‘Turn back to me,’ and she did not return.” When we come back to an earnest love of God, he does not remember the former things. God is not like a man. He does not reproach us with the past, or say, “Why were you away so long?” when we repent. Only let us come to him as we ought. Let us cling to him earnestly, and rivet our hearts to the fear of him.

Such things have happened not only under the new covenant, but under the old as well. What was worse than Manasseh? Yet he was able to win God over. What was more blessed than Solomon? Yet when he grew drowsy, he fell. Or rather, I can show both things happening in one man, in this man’s father, for the same person became good and bad at different times. What was more blessed than Judas? Yet he became a traitor. What was more wretched than Matthew? Yet he became an evangelist. What was worse than Paul? Yet he became an apostle. What was more enviable than Simon? Yet he too became the most wretched of all.

How many other such changes could you see, both in the past and taking place every day now? That is why I say: let the one on the stage not despair, and let the one in the church not be overconfident. To the one in the church it is said, “Let him who thinks he stands be careful that he does not fall”; and to the other, “Will not the one who falls get up again?” and, “Lift up the hands that hang down, and the weak knees.” Again, to the first he says, “Keep watch”; but to the others, “Wake up, you who sleep, and rise from the dead.” For the first need to keep what they have, and the others to become what they are not. The first need to keep their health, the others to be set free from their weakness, for they are sick. But many of the sick become healthy, and many of the healthy grow weak through carelessness.

So to the one he says, “See, you have been made well. Sin no more, so that nothing worse happens to you.” But to the others, “Do you want to be made well? Get up, take up your bed, and go to your house.” For sin is a dreadful, dreadful paralysis — or rather, it is not only paralysis, but something else more grievous. For a person like this is not only idle in doing good works, but active in doing evil ones. Yet even so, if you are in that state and are willing to rouse yourself a little, all the terrors are over.

Even if you have been that way “thirty-eight years,” and are eager to be made well, there is no one to stop you. Christ is present now too, and says, “Take up your bed.” Only be willing to rouse yourself; do not despair. Do you have no one? But you have God. Do you have no one to put you into the pool? But you have him who does not let you need the pool. Have you had no one to throw you in there? But you have him who commands you to take up your bed.

You cannot say, “While I am coming, another steps down before me.” For if you want to go down into the fountain, there is no one to stop you. Grace is not used up, it is not spent; it is a kind of fountain that springs up constantly. By his fullness we are all healed, both in soul and in body. Let us come to it, then, even now. For Rahab too was a prostitute, and yet she was saved; and the thief was a murderer, and yet he became a citizen of paradise. And while Judas, who was with his Teacher, perished, the thief, who was on a cross, became a disciple. Such are the wonderful works of God. So the magi proved themselves worthy; so the tax collector became an evangelist; so the blasphemer became an apostle.

Look at these things and never despair. Always be confident, and rouse yourself. Only take hold of the road that leads there, and you will make quick progress. Do not shut the doors; do not close up the entrance. The present life is short, and the labor is small. But even if it were great, not even then should anyone shrink from it. For if you do not toil at this most glorious toil, the toil spent on repentance and virtue, you will certainly toil and wear yourself out in the world in other ways. But if there is labor on both sides, why do we not choose the one whose fruit is abundant and whose reward is greater? [x]

And yet this labor and that are not even the same. In worldly pursuits there are constant dangers and losses one after another, and the hope is uncertain. The servility is great, and so is the expense — of wealth, of bodies, and of souls alike. And then the return of the fruits falls far below our expectation, if it happens to come up at all.

For toil on worldly matters does not bear fruit everywhere. And even when it has not failed, but has brought forth its produce, and that in abundance, the time it lasts is short.

For when you have grown old, and no longer have the full feeling of enjoyment, then and only then does the labor bring you its return. The labor was done with the body in its vigor; the fruit and the enjoyment come to a man grown old and feeble, when time has dulled even the feeling. And even if it had not dulled it, the expectation of the end does not let us find pleasure.

But in the other case it is not so. The labor is in a perishable and dying body, but the crown is in one that is imperishable and immortal and has no end. The labor comes first and is short-lived; the reward comes afterward and has no end, so that from then on you may take your rest in security, looking for nothing unpleasant.

For you need no longer fear change or loss, as you do here. What sort of good things, then, are these, which are insecure and short-lived and earthly, vanishing before they have appeared, and gained with many toils? And what good things are equal to those, which cannot be shaken, which never grow old, which bring no toil, which even at the time of the contest bring you crowns?

For the one who despises money receives his reward already here, being freed from anxiety, from rivalry, from false accusation, from plotting, from envy. The one who is self-controlled and lives an orderly life is crowned even before his departure, and lives in pleasure, delivered from disgrace, ridicule, the dangers of accusation, and all the other things there are to fear. All the other parts of virtue likewise pay us a return already here. So that we may attain both the present and the future blessings, then, let us flee from vice and choose virtue. For so we will both enjoy delight and win the crowns to come. 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.