Homily 79 — Matthew 25, verse 31, to 26, verse 5

“When the Son of Man comes in the glory of his Father, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit,” he says, “on the throne of his glory, and he will separate the sheep from the young goats.” And he will accept the one group, because they fed him when he was hungry, gave him drink when he was thirsty, took him in when he was a stranger, clothed him when he was naked, visited him when he was sick, and came to see him when he was in prison; and he will give them the kingdom. But the others he will charge with the opposite, and send them into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. [a]

Let us now listen with all earnestness and heartfelt sorrow to this most delightful passage of Scripture, which we never stop turning over again and again. It is the passage with which he ended his teaching, and it was fitting that it should come last, for he cared greatly about love for humankind and about mercy.

That is why he had spoken about this before in a different way, and here he does it in some respects more clearly and more earnestly. He does not set before us two or three or five persons, but the whole world — although, to be sure, the earlier passages that speak of two persons did not mean just two persons, but two parts of humankind: the one those who disobey, the other the obedient. But here he handles the subject more fearfully and in a fuller light. So he no longer says, “The kingdom is like,” but shows himself openly, saying, “When the Son of Man comes in his glory.” For now he has come in dishonor, now amid insults and abuse; but then he will sit on the throne of his glory.

And he keeps mentioning glory. Since the cross was near, a thing that seemed to be a matter of shame, he lifts up the hearer for this reason: he sets the judgment seat before his eyes and places the whole world around him.

And not in this way only does he make his words awe-inspiring, but also by showing the heavens opened. For all the angels will be present with him, he says, to bear witness themselves to how many services they had performed when the Lord sent them out for the salvation of humankind.

Everything will help to make that day fearful. Then, he says, “all the nations will be gathered” — that is, the whole human race.

“And he will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates his sheep.” For now they are not separated, but all mixed together; then the division will be made with complete exactness. At first he divides them by their place and so makes them known; afterward, by the names he gives them, he shows the character of each, calling the one young goats and the other sheep. He does this to show the barrenness of the one, since no fruit comes from young goats, and the great profit of the other, for the profit from sheep is great indeed — from the milk, from the wool, and from the young — and the young goat has none of these.

But while the animals have their barrenness or fruitfulness from nature, these people have it by their own choice. That is why some are punished and the others crowned. And he does not punish them until he has pleaded his case with them; that is why, once he has put them in their place, he states the charges against them. They answer with gentleness, but it does them no good now — and quite reasonably, since they passed over a work so much to be desired. For the prophets say this everywhere: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” The lawgiver urged them to it in every way, by words and by deeds, and nature herself taught it.

But notice how they lack not one or two things only, but all of them. Not only did they fail to feed the hungry or clothe the naked; they did not even visit the sick, which was an easier thing.

And notice how easy his commands are. He did not say, “I was in prison and you set me free; I was sick and you raised me up again,” but, “you visited me,” and, “you came to me.” Nor is what he commands in the case of hunger a heavy thing. He did not look for a costly table, but only what is needed, his necessary food; and he asked for it dressed as a beggar. So everything was enough to bring punishment on them: the ease of the request, for it was bread; the pitiable state of the one asking, for he was poor; the fellow feeling of nature, for he was a man; the attraction of the promise, for he promised a kingdom; the fearfulness of the punishment, for he threatened hell; the dignity of the one receiving, for it was God who was receiving through the poor; the surpassing honor, that he consented to stoop so low; his just claim to what they gave, for he was receiving what was his own. But against all these things greed blinded, once and for all, those it had seized — and that although so great a threat was set against it.

Earlier, too, he says that those who do not receive such people will suffer worse things than Sodom; and here he says, “Since you did not do it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did not do it to me.” What are you saying? They are your brothers — how then do you call them least? Why, they are brothers for this very reason: because they are lowly, because they are poor, because they are outcasts. It is people like these above all that he invites into brotherhood, the unknown and the despised. And by these he does not mean only the monks and those who have taken to the mountains, but every believer. Even if he is someone living in the world, yet if he is hungry and starving and naked and a stranger, it is his will that this man should enjoy all this care. For baptism makes a person a brother, and so does sharing in the divine mysteries.

Then, so that you may see the justice of the sentence in another way as well, he first praises those who have done right, and says, “Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food,” and all the rest. So that the others cannot say, “We did not have the means,” he condemns them by their fellow servants — just as he condemned the virgins by the virgins, the drunken and gluttonous servant by the faithful servant, the one who buried his talent by those who brought the two, and each of those who go on in sin by those who have done right. [f]

This comparison is sometimes made with an equal, as here and in the case of the virgins, and sometimes where one side has the advantage, as when he said, “The men of Nineveh will rise up and condemn this generation, because they believed at the preaching of Jonah; and look, something greater than Jonah is here”; and, “The queen of the south will condemn this generation, because she came to hear the wisdom of Solomon.” And with an equal again: “They will be your judges.” And again where one side has the advantage: “Do you not know that we will judge angels? How much more the things that belong to this life?”

Here, though, it is with an equal, for he compares rich with rich and poor with poor. And he shows the sentence to be just not only by this — that their fellow servants did what was right in the same circumstances — but also by the fact that they did not obey even in those things where poverty was no obstacle: giving drink to the thirsty, looking in on the one in chains, visiting the sick. And when he had commended those who had done right, he shows how great his bond of love toward them had been from the beginning. For he says, “Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” How many good things is this alone worth — to be blessed, and blessed by the Father? And why were they counted worthy of such great honors? What is the reason? “I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink,” and the rest.

What honor, what blessedness there is in these words! And he did not say, “Take,” but, “Inherit,” as your own, as your Father’s, as yours, as owed to you from the first. “Before you existed,” he says, “these things had been prepared and made ready for you, since I knew you would be what you are.”

And in return for what do they receive such things? For a roof overhead, for a garment, for bread, for cold water, for a visit, for going into the prison. In every case it is for what is needed, and sometimes not even for that. For surely, as I said, the sick man and the man in chains are not looking for this alone: the one wants to be set free, the other to be delivered from his illness. But he, being kind, asks only for what is within our power — or rather, even less than what is within our power — and leaves it to us to show our generosity by doing more.

But to the others he says, “Depart from me, you cursed” — no longer “of the Father,” for it was not he who laid the curse on them, but their own deeds — “into the eternal fire prepared,” not for you, but “for the devil and his angels.” When he spoke of the kingdom, after saying, “Come, inherit the kingdom,” he added, “prepared for you from the foundation of the world”; but of the fire he no longer speaks so, but says, “prepared for the devil.” “I prepared the kingdom for you,” he says, “but the fire I did not prepare for you, but for the devil and his angels. Since you have thrown yourselves into it, blame yourselves.” And not in this way only, but by what follows as well, he sets out the reasons, as though he were excusing himself to them.

“For I was hungry and you gave me no food.” Even if the one who came to you had been your enemy, were not his sufferings enough to overcome and subdue even the merciless — hunger, and cold, and chains, and nakedness, and sickness, and wandering everywhere without a home? These things are enough to destroy even hostility. But you did not do these things even for a friend, one who was at once your friend, your benefactor, and your Lord. If we see even a dog hungry, we are often overcome; if we see a wild beast, we give way. But when you see the Lord, are you not moved?

And what defense can such conduct have?

If this were all, would it not be enough of a reward? I do not speak of hearing such a voice before the whole world from the one who sits on the Father’s throne, or of gaining the kingdom; but was not the very doing of it reward enough? Yet as it is, before the whole world, and at the appearing of that glory beyond words, he proclaims you and crowns you, and acknowledges you as the one who fed him and took him in. And he is not ashamed to say such things, so that he may make your crown brighter.

So for this reason the one group are punished justly, while the others are crowned by grace. For even if they had done ten thousand things, the generosity would still be a matter of grace: that in return for services so small and cheap, such a heaven, and a kingdom, and such great honor should be given them.

“And it happened, when Jesus had finished these sayings, that he said to his disciples, ‘You know that after two days the Passover comes, and the Son of Man is betrayed to be crucified.’” Again he speaks of his suffering at the right moment, after reminding them of the kingdom, of the reward there, and of the punishment that never dies. It is as though he had said: “Why are you afraid of dangers that last only a season, when such good things are waiting for you?”

But notice, I beg you, how in all his opening words he has, in a new way, softened and shaded over what was most painful to them. He did not say, “You know that after two days I am betrayed,” but, “You know that after two days the Passover comes.” He did this to show that what is being done is a mystery, that a feast and celebration is being kept for the salvation of the world, and that he suffered everything knowing it beforehand. So, as though this were comfort enough for them, he did not even say anything to them now about a resurrection; for after speaking so much about it, it was unnecessary to speak of it again. And besides, as I said, he shows that even his suffering is a deliverance from countless evils, since by the Passover he reminded them of the ancient benefits in Egypt. [k]

“Then the chief priests, and the scribes, and the elders of the people gathered together in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and plotted to take Jesus by trickery and kill him. But they said, ‘Not on the feast day, or there may be an uproar among the people.’”

Do you see the unspeakable corruption of the Jewish state? Setting out to do what was unlawful, they come to the high priest, wanting to get their authority from the very place where they ought to have met resistance.

And how many high priests were there? The law requires that there be one, but at that time there were many. From this it is plain that the Jewish constitution had begun to break down. For Moses, as I said, commanded that there be one, and that when he died there should be another; and by this man’s lifetime he measured the exile of those who had killed someone unintentionally. How then were there many high priests at that time? Later they came to be made for a year. The evangelist showed this when, speaking of Zechariah, he said that he was of the division of Abijah. So here he calls “high priests” those who had been high priests.

What did they plot together? To seize him secretly, or to put him to death? Both; for they were afraid of the people.

That is also why they were waiting for the feast to be over; for “they said, ‘Not on the feast day.’” The devil did not want it to take place at the Passover, so as not to make his suffering conspicuous; but they did not want it, for fear of an uproar. Notice, then, that they are always afraid — not of the evils that come from God, nor that the season might bring a greater defilement on them, but in every case of the evils that come from men.

Yet for all this, boiling with anger, they changed their plan again. Though they had said, “Not at the feast,” when they found the traitor they did not wait for the time, but killed him at the feast. But why did they seize him then? They were boiling with rage, as I said; they expected to find him then; and they did everything like blind men. For though he himself made the fullest use of their wickedness for his own plan of salvation, they were surely not guiltless on that account, but deserved countless punishments for the state of their minds. Indeed, at the very time when everyone was to be set free, even the guilty, these men killed the guiltless one — the one who had done them countless kindnesses, and who for a time had passed over the Gentiles for their sake. But oh, what love for humankind! These people, so depraved, so perverse, so full of countless evils, he saves once again; he sends the apostles to be killed on their behalf, and through the apostles he pleads with them: “For we are ambassadors for Christ.”

With such examples as these before us, I do not say, “Let us die for our enemies,” though we ought to do even this. But since we are too weak for this, I say for the present: let us at least not look with an envious eye on our friends; let us not envy our benefactors. I do not say for the present, “Let us do good to those who mistreat us,” though I want even this; but since you are too coarse for this, at least do not take revenge. What is our life — a stage show and play-acting? Why is it that you set yourselves directly against the things commanded? It was not for nothing that all the rest was written, and all that he did at the very cross that was enough to call them back to him. It was so that you might imitate his goodness, so that you might try to match his love for humankind. For he threw them to the ground, and restored the servant’s ear, and spoke with forbearance. And when he was lifted up he showed great miracles: turning away the sunlight, splitting the rocks, raising the dead, alarming through dreams the wife of the man who was judging him. At the trial itself he showed complete gentleness, which had no less power than miracles to win them over, and he warned them of countless things in the judgment hall. On the very cross he cried aloud, “Father, forgive them their sin.” And when he was buried, how many things did he do for their salvation? And when he had risen again, did he not immediately call the Jews? Did he not give them forgiveness of sins? Did he not set countless blessings before them? What can be more astonishing than this? Those who crucified him, who were breathing murder, became sons of God after they had crucified him.

What can equal this tenderness? When we hear these things, let us hide our faces at the thought of how far we are from him whom we are commanded to imitate. Let us at least see how great the distance is, so that we may at any rate condemn ourselves for making war on those for whom Christ gave his life, and for being unwilling to be reconciled with those whom he did not refuse even to be killed in order to reconcile — unless you will say that this, too, is some expense and outlay of money, the excuse you raise against giving alms.

Consider how many things you are guilty of. Then, far from being slow to forgive those who have wronged you, you will even run to those who have hurt you, so that you may have grounds for pardon and find a remedy for your own evil deeds. [o]

The Greeks, who look for nothing great, have often shown self-control toward such people. And you, who are to depart from here with such hopes, shrink back and are slow to act? What time brings about, you cannot bear to do before its time for the sake of God’s law. Would you rather have this passion die down without a reward than with one? For if it comes about through time, you will gain nothing by it; rather, your punishment will be great, because what time has brought about, the law of God did not persuade you to do.

But if you say that the memory of the insult sets you on fire, call to mind whether the one who offended you has ever done you any good, and how many evils you have caused others.

Has he spoken ill of you and disgraced you? Consider that you, too, have spoken the same way of others. How then will you obtain pardon, when you do not grant it to others? But have you spoken ill of no one? Still, you have heard others speaking so and let them. That is not guiltless either.

Would you learn how good a thing it is not to remember wrongs, and how this pleases God more than anything? He punishes those who gloat over people he himself has justly chastised. They are justly chastised, yes; but you should not rejoice over them. So the prophet, after bringing many charges, added this one too, saying, “They felt nothing for the affliction of Joseph”; and again, “She who lives in Enan did not come out to mourn for the place next to her.” And yet both Joseph — that is, the tribes descended from him — and the neighbors of these others were punished by God’s own purpose. Nevertheless it is his will that we should feel for even these. If we, evil as we are, are punishing a servant and see one of his fellow slaves laughing, we are provoked all the more and turn our anger on him; how much more will God punish those who gloat over those he chastises! And if we must not trample on those chastised by God, but grieve with them, how much more must we grieve with those who have sinned against us. For this is the sign of love, and God prefers love to everything. In the royal purple, the flowers and dyes that are prized are the ones that go to make up that robe; so here too, the precious virtues are the ones that keep love safe. And nothing keeps love so well as not remembering the wrongs of those who have sinned against us.

“Why? Did not God take care of the other side too? Why? Did he not drive the one who did the wrong to the one who was wronged? Does he not send him away from the altar to the other man, and only after the reconciliation invite him to the table?” But do not wait for the other to come on that account, for then you have lost everything. The chief reason he has appointed a reward beyond words for you is so that you would get there before the other. If you are reconciled because he pleaded with you, the friendship is no longer the result of God’s command, but of the other man’s effort. And so you go away without a crown, while he receives the rewards.

What are you saying? You have an enemy, and you are not ashamed? Is the devil not enough for us, that we bring those of our own race against ourselves as well? I wish that not even he had set his mind on making war on us; I wish that not even he were a devil!

Do you not know how great the pleasure is after reconciliation? What of it, if while we are enemies it does not seem great? Once the hostility is over, you will be able to learn full well that it is sweeter to love the one who wrongs us than to hate him.

Why then do we imitate madmen, devouring one another and waging war on our own flesh? [r]

Listen to how much concern there was for this even in the Old Testament: “The ways of vengeful men lead to death.” “One man keeps anger against another, and does he seek healing from God?” “And yet he allowed ‘an eye for an eye’ and ‘a tooth for a tooth.’ How then does he find fault?” Because he allowed even those things, not so that we would do them to one another, but so that through fear of suffering them we would keep from committing crimes. And besides, those acts are the fruit of a short-lived anger, but to remember wrongs belongs to a soul that trains itself in evil.

But have you suffered wrong? Yet nothing so great as what you will do to yourself by remembering it. And besides, it is not even possible for a good man to suffer any evil. Suppose there is a man who has children and a wife, and let him practice virtue. Let him also have many points where he can be hurt: plenty of possessions, ruling power, many friends; and let him enjoy honor. Only let him practice virtue — this must be added — and let us, in our imagining, lay blows on him. Let some wicked man come to him and bring losses on him. What is that to one who counts money as nothing? Let him kill his children. What is this to one who has learned to think wisely about the resurrection? Let him kill his wife. What is this to one who has been taught not to grieve for those who have fallen asleep? Let him bring him into disgrace. What is this to one who counts the things of this life as the flower of the grass? If you like, let him also torture his body and throw him into prison. What is this to one who has learned, “Though our outer man is perishing, yet the inner man is being renewed,” and that “trouble produces proven character”?

Now I had undertaken to show that he would suffer no harm; but as the argument went on it has shown that he even gains by it, being renewed and being proven.

So let us not fret ourselves over others, harming ourselves and making our souls weak. Our distress comes not so much from our neighbors’ wickedness as from our own weakness. That is why, if anyone insults us, we weep and scowl; if anyone robs us, we suffer as little children do when their cleverer playmates tease them for nothing and upset them over trifles. Yet even these playmates, if they see them upset, keep on teasing; but if they see them laughing, they stop. But we are more foolish even than these children, lamenting over things we ought to laugh at.

So I beg you, let us put away this childish mind and take hold of heaven. For Christ wants us to be men, full-grown men. Paul too gave this command: “Brothers, do not be children in understanding,” he says, “but in malice be children.”

Let us therefore be children in malice, flee wickedness, and take hold of virtue, so that we may also gain the eternal good things, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.