Homily 73 — Matthew 23, verses 14 to 28

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew

Homily 73 — Matthew 23, verses 14 to 28

Matthew 23, verses 14 to 28

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you devour widows’ houses, and for a pretense make long prayers. Therefore you will receive greater condemnation.”

After this he next ridicules them for gluttony. And the grievous thing was that they fed their own bellies not from the goods of the rich but from the poor, and made worse the poverty they ought to have relieved. For they did not merely eat; they devoured.

And the way they took more than their due was more grievous still: “for a pretense making long prayers.” Everyone who does any evil deserves punishment. But the man who takes even his reason for doing it from godliness, and uses godliness as a cloak for his wickedness, justly deserves a far heavier punishment.

And why did he not remove them from their office? Because the time did not yet allow it. So for a while he leaves them alone, but by his words he makes sure that the people are not deceived, so that the dignity of those men would not draw them on to copy them. For since he had said, “Whatever they tell you to do, do it,” he shows how many things they do wrong, so that the unthinking would not suppose from those words that he was handing everything over to them.

“Woe to you, for you shut up the kingdom against people; for you neither go in yourselves, nor let those who are entering go in.” If doing no one any good is a charge against a man, what defense is there for doing harm and standing in the way? But what does “those who are entering” mean? Those who are fit for it. For when they were laying commands on others, they used to make the burdens unbearable; but when they themselves had to do any of the things required, far from doing anything, they went much further than this in wickedness: they even corrupted others. These are the people called pests, who make it their business to ruin others, the direct opposite of teachers. For if it is a teacher’s part to save what is perishing, it is a destroyer’s part to destroy what is on the point of being saved.

After this comes another charge: “You travel over sea and land to make one convert, and when he is made, you make him twice as much a child of hell as yourselves.” That is: not even the fact that you won him with difficulty, and with endless labor, makes you spare him. We are more careful of the things we gained with difficulty; but not even this makes you gentler.

Here he lays two charges against them. One, that they are useless for the salvation of the many, and need great labor to win over even one. The other, that they were slack in keeping the one they had gained — or rather, not only careless but traitors, corrupting him by the wickedness of their lives and making him worse. For when the disciple sees that his teachers are men like these, he becomes worse than they are. He does not stop at his teacher’s wickedness. Just as he imitates his teacher when the teacher is virtuous, so when the teacher is bad he even goes beyond him, because we are so prone to what is evil.

He calls him “a child of hell,” that is, a very hell. And he said “twice as much as you,” both to alarm the converts and to make the teachers feel it more sharply, because they are teachers of wickedness. And not only this, but because they labor to instill a greater wickedness into their disciples, hardening them to a far greater depravity than their own; and this above all is the mark of a depraved soul.

Then he ridicules them for folly as well, because they told people to disregard the greater commandments. Yet before this he had said the opposite, that “they tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear.” But they did this too: they were doing everything to corrupt those under them, demanding strictness in little things and despising the great.

“For you pay tithes,” he says, “of mint and anise, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice, and mercy, and faith. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone.”

It is natural for him to say this here, where the matter is tithes and almsgiving; for what harm does it do to give alms? But he does not say it to bind them to keeping the law, for the words do not say that. So here he says, “These you ought to have done.” But where he is speaking about clean and unclean, he no longer adds this. Instead he draws a distinction, and shows that outward purity necessarily follows inward purity, but that the reverse is no longer true.

Where there is the plea of love for others, he passes over it lightly, for this very reason, and because it was not yet time to repeal the things of the law expressly and plainly. But where it is a matter of keeping bodily purifications, he overturns it more plainly. So, while with respect to alms he says, “These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone,” about purifications he does not speak this way. What does he say instead? “You clean the outside of the cup and the plate,” he says, “but inside they are full of extortion and injustice. Clean what is inside the cup, so that the outside may be clean too.” He drew the comparison from something admitted and obvious: a cup and a plate.

Then, to show that no harm comes from disregarding bodily cleansings, but very great punishment from disregarding the purifications of the soul, which is virtue, he called the first “a gnat,” for they are small and nothing, and the second a camel, for they were more than people could bear. That is why he says, “Straining out the gnat, and swallowing the camel.” For the small things were laid down for the sake of the great — I mean mercy and justice — so that even then they did no good when done by themselves. The little things were mentioned for the sake of the great; and once the great were neglected and labor was spent on the little alone, nothing was gained even then. For the greater did not follow the lesser, but the lesser were sure to follow the greater.

He says these things to show that even before grace had come, these were not among the principal things, nor among the things people should spend their labor on; what was required was something else. And if they were like this before grace, much more, once the high commandments had come, were these things useless, and it was not right to practice them at all.

Vice is a grievous thing in every case, but especially when it does not even think it needs correcting; and it is more grievous still when it thinks itself fit to correct others as well. To express this, Christ calls them “blind guides.” For if it is utter misery and wretchedness for a blind man not to think he needs a guide, then when he wants to guide others himself, see what a pit it leads to!

In all these things he was hinting at their mad desire for glory, and their extreme frenzy over this plague. For this was the cause of all their evils: they did everything for show. This led them away from the faith; it made them neglect what is truly virtue; and it moved them to busy themselves only with bodily purifications, neglecting the purifications of the soul. So, to lead them to what is truly virtue and to the purifications of the soul, he mentions mercy, and justice, and faith. For these are what hold our life together; these are what purify the soul: justice, love for humankind, truth. The one inclines us to forgive, and does not let us be excessively severe and unforgiving toward those who sin — for then we gain twice over, both becoming kind to others and so meeting with great kindness ourselves from the God of all — and it moves us both to feel for those who are mistreated and to help them. The other does not let people be deceitful and crafty.

But when he says, “These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone,” he does not say it to bring in an observance of the law — perish the thought! Nor, with regard to the plate and the cup, when he said, “Clean what is inside the cup and the plate, so that the outside of them may be clean too,” is he leading us back to the old concern with little things. On the contrary, he does everything to show that it is unnecessary. For he did not say, “Clean the outside of them as well,” but “what is inside,” and the outside is sure to follow.

Besides, he is not speaking of a cup and a plate at all, but of soul and body, meaning the body by the outside and the soul by the inside. And if a plate needs what is inside cleaned, much more do you.

“But you do the opposite,” he says. “You keep the trivial, outward things, and neglect what is great and inward. And from this comes very great harm: thinking you have done everything as you should, you despise the rest; and despising it, you do not even strive or try to do it.”

After this he ridicules them again for their empty glory, calling them “whitewashed tombs,” and adding to every charge, “you hypocrites” — which is the cause of all their evils and the beginning of their ruin. And he did not merely call them whitewashed tombs; he said they were full of uncleanness and hypocrisy. He said these things to point out why they did not believe: because they were full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.

Yet not Christ alone, but the prophets too constantly charge them with these things: that they plunder, and that their rulers do not judge by the rule of justice. And everywhere you may find the sacrifices refused and these things required instead. So there is nothing strange, nothing new, either in the lawgiving or in the accusation — no, not even in the comparison with the tomb. For the prophet mentions it too; and he did not simply call them a tomb, but said, “Their throat is an open tomb.”

Many people now are like this too, decking themselves outwardly but full of lawlessness within. For now too there are many methods and much care for outward purifications, but not a single one for the purifications of the soul. Yet if anyone were to tear open each man’s conscience, he would find many worms and much rot, and a stench beyond words — I mean unreasonable and wicked cravings, which are more unclean than worms.

Temples Turned into Tombs

But that they should be like this is not so dreadful a thing, though it is dreadful. But that you, who have been counted worthy to become temples of God, should suddenly have become tombs, with just as foul a stench — this is utter wretchedness. That the man in whom Christ dwells, in whom the Holy Spirit has worked, and such great mysteries, should be a tomb — what wretchedness is this? What mourning and lamenting does it call for, when the members of Christ have become a tomb of uncleanness? Consider how you were born, what you have been counted worthy of, what kind of garment you have received, how you were built a temple without a single crack — and how beautiful! — not adorned with gold or with pearls, but with the Spirit, who is more precious than these.

Consider that no tomb is built inside a city; so neither will you be able to appear in the city above. If this is forbidden here, much more there. Or rather, even here you are an object of scorn to everyone, carrying a dead soul about with you; and not only scorned, but shunned as well. Tell me, if someone went around carrying a dead body, would not everyone have rushed away? Would not everyone have fled? Think of this now in the same way. For you go about carrying a sight far more grievous than that: a soul deadened by sins, a soul paralyzed.

Who, now, will pity such a person? When you do not pity your own soul, how will another pity someone so cruel, such an enemy to himself? If anyone had buried a dead body where you sleep and eat, what would you not have done? But you are burying a dead soul, not where you dine or where you sleep, but in the members of Christ. And are you not afraid that a thousand lightnings and thunderbolts may be hurled down from above on your head?

How do you even dare to set foot in the churches of God and in holy temples, carrying within you the stench of so much that is loathsome? If a man who carried a dead body into the king’s palace and buried it there would have suffered the utmost punishment, consider what punishment you will undergo, setting foot in the sacred courts and filling the house with so great a stench.

Imitate that prostitute who anointed Christ’s feet with perfume and filled the whole house with its fragrance — the very opposite of what you are doing to his house! For what if you are not aware of the stench? This is the most grievous part of the disease, and it is why you are sick past curing, and more grievously than those who are maimed in their bodies and give off a foul smell. That disease is felt by the sick and carries no blame; it even deserves pity. But this one deserves hatred and punishment.

Since, then, it is more grievous in this respect, and also because the sick man does not feel it as he ought, come, give yourself to my words, so that I may teach you plainly how harmful it is.

But first listen to what you say in the Psalm: “Let my prayer be set forth in your sight as incense.” When, then, it is not incense but a stinking smoke that rises from you and from your deeds, what punishment do you not deserve to suffer?

What, then, is the stinking smoke? Many come in and gaze at the beauty of women; others are curious about the blooming youth of boys. After this, are you not amazed that thunderbolts are not hurled down, and that everything is not torn up from its foundations? For what is done here deserves both thunderbolts and hell. But God, who is patient and of great mercy, holds back his anger for a while, calling you to repentance and to a changed life.

What are you doing, man? Are you peering curiously after women’s beauty, and do you not shudder at insulting the temple of God like this? Does the church seem to you a brothel, and less honorable than the marketplace? In the marketplace you are afraid and ashamed to be seen eyeing any woman; but in God’s temple, while God himself is speaking to you and threatening you about these very things, you commit sexual immorality and adultery at the very moment you are being told not to. And do you not shudder, or stand aghast? This is what the shows of indecency teach you: that plague so hard to put down, those deadly spells, those cruel snares for the thoughtless, that pleasant ruin of the unchaste. That is why the prophet too rebukes you, saying, “Your eyes are not good, nor is your heart.”

It would be better for such men to be blind; it would be better to be sick than to misuse your eyes for these purposes.

You ought to have had within yourselves the wall that parts you from the women. But since you are not so minded, our fathers thought it necessary to wall you off with these boards. For I hear from the older people that in former times there were not even these partitions — “for in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female” — and in the apostle’s time, too, men and women were together. That was because the men were men and the women women. But now it is entirely the opposite: the women have pushed their way into the manners of courtesans, and the men are no better than frenzied horses.

Have you not heard that men and women were gathered together in the upper room, and that the assembly was worthy of heaven? And quite rightly. For the women then practiced great self-denial, and the men seriousness and chastity. Listen, for instance, to the seller of purple, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house and stay.” Listen to the women who went about with the apostles, having taken on a manly courage — Priscilla, Persis, and the rest. Our women today are as far from them as our men are from their men.

In those days women traveled even to far countries and brought no evil report on themselves; but now, even when brought up in the inner rooms, they hardly escape this suspicion. These things come from their decking themselves out and from their luxury. Then the business of those women was to spread the word; now it is to look beautiful and fair and lovely of face. This is their glory, this their salvation; but of lofty and great works they do not even dream.

What woman takes pains to make her husband better? What man has taken on himself this care, to improve his wife? Not one. The woman’s whole study is the care of gold ornaments and clothes and the other adornments of the body, and how to increase their property; and the man’s is both this and more besides — all of it worldly.

Marriage Bought and Sold

Who, when he is about to marry, asks about the girl’s character and upbringing? No one. He asks at once about money and possessions and holdings of every different kind, as if he were about to buy something or settle an ordinary contract.

That is why they even call marriage by that name. I have heard many say, “So-and-so has made a contract with such a woman,” meaning, he has married. They insult the gifts of God, and they marry and are given in marriage as though they were buying and selling.

And there are written contracts demanding more security than those for buying and selling. Learn how the people of old married, and imitate them. How did they marry? They asked about way of life, and character, and virtue of soul. So they had no need of written contracts, or of security by parchment and ink; the bride’s character was enough for them in place of everything.

So I beg you, too: do not seek wealth and abundance, but a good character and gentleness. Look for a devout young woman who practices self-denial, and these qualities will be better for you than countless treasures. If you seek the things of God, these other things will come too; but if you pass those by and hurry after these, these will not follow either.

Someone will say: “But so-and-so got rich through his wife!” Are you not ashamed to bring forward such examples? I would ten thousand times rather be a poor man, as I have heard many say, than gain wealth from a wife. What could be more unpleasant than that wealth? What more painful than that abundance? What more shameful than to be notorious for it, and to have everyone say, “So-and-so got rich through a wife”? I pass over the troubles at home, all that must come of it: the wife’s pride, the servility, the quarrels, the taunts of the servants — “The beggar!” “The ragged one!” “Low-born, and son of the low-born!” “Why, what did he have when he came in?” “Doesn’t everything belong to our mistress?”

But you do not care at all about such talk, for you are not a free man either. The hangers-on hear worse things than these and are not hurt; so neither are these men. Instead they pride themselves on their disgrace. And when we tell them these things, one of them says, “Let me have something pleasant and sweet, and let it choke me.” Alas! What proverbs the devil has brought into the world, with power to overturn the whole life of such people! Look at this very saying, devilish and deadly as it is: how full of ruin it is. It means nothing other than this: “Have no regard for what is honorable; have no regard for what is just; let all that be thrown aside; seek one thing only — pleasure. Though the thing chokes you, choose it; though everyone you meet spurns you, though they smear your face with mud, though they drive you away like a dog, bear it all.” What else would pigs say, if they had a voice? What else would filthy dogs say? But perhaps not even they would have said such things as the devil has persuaded people to rave.

So I beg you, recognizing how senseless such words are, to flee such proverbs and to choose instead the sayings in the Scriptures that oppose them.

What are these? “Do not go after your cravings,” it says, “and hold yourself back from your appetites.” And again, about a prostitute, in opposition to this proverb, it says: “Pay no attention to a bad woman; for honey drips from the lips of a woman who is a prostitute, which for a time is luscious to your throat; but afterward you will find it more bitter than gall, and sharper than a two-edged sword.” Let us listen to these, then, and not to those. For this is where our mean and slavish thoughts spring from; this is how people become brutes: in everything they follow after pleasure, according to this proverb, which is ridiculous in itself, even without arguments of ours. For once a man is choked, what does he gain from the sweetness?

So stop building up such great absurdity and kindling hell and the unquenchable fire. Let us look steadily, as we ought — at last, late as it is — toward the things to come, having put away the film from our eyes, so that we may pass the present life honorably, with great reverence and godly fear, and attain the good things to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.