Homily 85 — Matthew 26, verse 67, to 27, verse 10

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew

Homily 85 — Matthew 26, verse 67, to 27, verse 10

Matthew 26, verse 67, to 27, verse 10

“Then they spat in his face and struck him with their fists, and others slapped him with the palms of their hands, saying, ‘Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who is it that struck you?’”

Why did they do these things, when they were going to put him to death anyway? What need was there for this mockery? It was so that you might learn from everything how unrestrained they were. Having caught him like prey, they showed their drunken frenzy in this way and gave full rein to their madness. They made a festival of it; they fell on him with pleasure, and showed their murderous disposition.

But admire, I beg you, the self-restraint of the disciples, and how exactly they tell these things. This clearly shows how they loved the truth: they tell with complete truthfulness the things that seem shameful, disguising nothing and not ashamed of them, but rather counting it the very greatest glory — as indeed it was — that the Lord of the universe should endure to suffer such things for us. This shows both his tenderness, which is beyond words, and the wickedness of those men, which is beyond excuse. They had the heart to do such things to one so mild and gentle, who was charming them with words that were enough to change a lion into a lamb. For he fell short in nothing that belongs to gentleness, and they fell short in nothing that belongs to insult and cruelty, in what they did and in what they said. The prophet Isaiah foretold all of this, proclaiming it in advance and hinting at all this insult in a single phrase. “Just as many were astonished at you,” he says, “so will your form be held without glory by men, and your glory by the sons of men.”

For what could equal this insult? That face, which the sea reverenced when it saw it, from which the sun turned away its rays when it saw it on the cross — they spat on it and struck it with the palms of their hands, and some struck him on the head, giving full rein to their own madness in every way. They dealt the blows that are the most insulting of all, fists and slaps, and to these blows they added the insult of spitting at him. And again they spoke words teeming with ridicule, saying, “Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who is it that struck you?” — because the crowds called him a prophet.

Another evangelist says that they covered his face with his own garment and did these things as though they had some vile and worthless fellow in their midst. And not free men only, but slaves too joined in this unrestrained outrage against him at that time.

Let us read these things continually; let us hear them rightly; let us write them in our minds, for these are our glory. These are what I take pride in: not only the thousands of dead he raised, but also the sufferings he endured. Paul puts these forward in every way: the cross, the death, the sufferings, the abuse, the insults, the jeers. At one point he says, “Let us go out to him, bearing his reproach,” and at another, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame.”

Peter’s Denial

“Now Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard, and a servant girl came to him and said, ‘You also were with Jesus of Galilee.’ But he denied it before them all, saying, ‘I do not know what you are talking about.’ And when he had gone out into the gateway, another girl saw him and said, ‘This man also was there with Jesus of Nazareth.’ And again he denied it with an oath. And after a while those who stood by came up and said to Peter, ‘Surely you also are one of them, for your speech gives you away.’ Then he began to curse and to swear, ‘I do not know the man.’ And immediately the rooster crowed. And Peter remembered the words of Jesus, who had said, ‘Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.”

What a strange and wonderful thing! When he saw his Master merely seized, he was so hot that he drew his sword and cut off the man’s ear. But when it was natural for him to be angrier still, to be inflamed and to burn, hearing such abuse, then he becomes a denier. For who would not have been driven to fury by the things done then? Yet the disciple, overcome by fear, far from showing indignation, even denies him. He cannot bear the threat of a wretched, lowly girl — and not once only, but a second and a third time he denies him, and within a short time, and not even before judges. It was outside, for they questioned him “when he had gone out into the gateway.” And he did not even come quickly to a sense of his fall.

Luke says this too: that Christ looked at him. This shows that he had not only denied him but was not even brought to remember from within, and this though the rooster had crowed. He needed a further reminder from his Master, and that look served him in place of a voice, so utterly full of fear was he. Mark says that when he had denied once, the rooster crowed for the first time, and when he had denied three times, it crowed a second time. For Mark sets out the disciple’s weakness in more detail, and how completely dead with fear he was. He had learned these things from his master himself, for he was a follower of Peter. And this is what one would most admire in him: far from hiding his teacher’s faults, he declared them more plainly than the others, for the very reason that he was his disciple.

How, then, is what is said true, when Matthew states that Christ said, “Truly I tell you, before the rooster crows you will deny me three times,” and Mark declares that after the third denial “the rooster crowed a second time”? It most certainly is true, and the two agree. At each crowing a rooster usually crows a third and a fourth time, and Mark says this to show that not even the sound stopped Peter and brought him to his senses. So both statements are true, for before the rooster had finished one crowing, he had denied a third time. And even when Christ reminded him of his sin, he did not dare to weep openly, for fear his tears would give him away; instead “he went out and wept bitterly.”

“And when it was day, they led Jesus away from Caiaphas to Pilate.” They wanted to put him to death but could not do it themselves because of the feast, so they bring him to the governor.

But notice, I beg you, how events were pressed forward so that it took place at the feast. For that is how it had been foreshadowed from the first.

The End of Judas

“Then Judas, who had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented and brought back the thirty pieces of silver.” This was a charge both against him and against these men. Against him, not because he repented, but because he did it late and slowly, and became his own judge — for he himself confessed that he had handed him over. Against them, because they had the power to undo it and did not repent.

But notice when it is that he feels remorse: when his sin was complete and had been carried through. For the devil is like this: he does not let those who are careless see the evil beforehand, so that the one he has caught will not repent. At any rate, when Jesus was saying so many things to him, Judas was not moved; but when his crime was complete, then repentance came over him — and even then not to any profit. To condemn what he had done, to throw down the pieces of silver, and to pay no regard to the Jewish people — all these were acceptable. But to hang himself — this, again, was unpardonable, and the work of an evil spirit. For the devil led him away from his repentance too soon, so that he would reap no fruit from it, and carried him off by a most disgraceful death, one plain for all to see, having persuaded him to destroy himself.

But notice, I beg you, how the truth shines out on every side, even through what its adversaries do and suffer. The very end of the traitor stops the mouths of those who had condemned Christ, and does not leave them so much as the shadow of an excuse, not even a shameless one. For what could they have to say, when the traitor is seen passing such a sentence on himself?

But let us look at the words as well, at what is said. “He brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and said, ‘I have sinned in that I have betrayed innocent blood.’ And they said, ‘What is that to us? See to it yourself.’ And he threw down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.”

For he could not bear his conscience scourging him. But notice, I beg you, that the Jews too go through the same thing. They also, when they ought to have been set right by what they suffered, do not stop until they have completed their sin. His sin had been completed, for it was a betrayal; but theirs was not yet. But when they too had carried theirs through and had nailed him to the cross, then they also are troubled. At one moment they say, “Do not write, ‘This is the King of the Jews’” — and yet why are you afraid? Why are you troubled at a dead body nailed to the cross? At another they set a guard over him, saying, “Or his disciples may steal him away and say that he has risen; so the last error will be worse than the first.” And yet if the disciples had done it, the thing would have been refuted, if it were not true. But how could they have said such a thing, when they had not dared so much as to stand their ground when he was seized, and the chief of them had even denied him three times, unable to bear a servant girl’s threat? But, as I said, the chief priests were already troubled. That they knew the act was a breach of the law is plain from their saying, “See to it yourself.”

Listen, you greedy people; consider what happened to him. At one stroke he lost the money, committed the sin, and destroyed his own soul. Such is the tyranny of greed. He did not enjoy the money, nor the present life, nor the life to come, but lost everything at once; and having earned a bad name even with those very men, he hanged himself.

But, as I said, it is after the act that some people see clearly. Look at these men too: for a while they are unwilling to see plainly what they have done, and they say, “See to it yourself.” That alone is a very heavy charge against them. For this is the language of men who bear witness to their own recklessness and lawlessness, yet who are drunk with passion and unwilling to give up their satanic undertakings, and who senselessly wrap themselves in a veil of pretended ignorance.

If these words had been said after the crucifixion, after he had been killed, even then the saying would have made no sense, but it would not have condemned them so much. But now, when you still have him in your own hands and have the power to release him, how could you say such things? This defense would be a very heavy accusation against you. How, and in what way? Because while they throw the whole blame on the traitor — for they say, “See to it yourself” — though they could have set themselves free of this murder of Christ, they left the traitor alone and pressed the crime further, adding the cross to the betrayal. For when they said to him, “See to it yourself,” what stopped them from holding back from the crime themselves? But as it is, they do the very opposite: they add the murder to it, and in everything, by what they do and by what they say, entangle themselves in evils they cannot escape. For after this, when Pilate left the choice to them, they chose to have the robber released rather than Jesus; and him who had done no wrong, who had even done them so many kindnesses, they killed.

What, then, did that man do? When he saw that he was laboring to no purpose and that they would not agree to take back the pieces of silver, “he threw them down in the temple, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the pieces of silver and said, ‘It is not lawful to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood.’ And they took counsel and bought with them the potter’s field, to bury strangers in. That is why that field has been called the Field of Blood to this day. Then was fulfilled what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying, ‘And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him who was valued, and gave them for the potter’s field, as the Lord directed me.’”

Do you see them once again condemned by their own conscience? Because they knew they had paid for a murder, they did not put the money into the treasury but bought a field to bury strangers in. And this too became a witness against them and a proof of their treachery, for the name of the place proclaimed their bloodguilt more clearly than a trumpet. Nor did they do it carelessly. They took counsel, as they did at every step, so that no one would be clear of the deed, but all would be guilty. Yet the prophecy had foretold these things long before. Do you see how not only the apostles but the prophets too declare exactly the things that were matters of reproach, and in every way proclaim his suffering and point to it in advance?

This happened to the Jews without their being aware of it. If they had thrown the money into the treasury, the matter would not have been so clearly exposed. But by buying a piece of ground, they made it all plain even to later generations.

Alms Taken from Others

Listen, all of you who think you can do good works out of murders and take payment for human lives. Such almsgiving is Jewish — or rather, it is satanic. For there are, yes, there are people even now who take countless things belonging to others by violence, and think everything is excused if they toss in some ten or a hundred gold pieces.

It is of them that the prophet says, “You covered my altar with tears.” Christ does not want to be fed from greed; he does not accept this food. Why do you insult your Lord by offering him unclean things? It is better to leave people to waste away with hunger than to feed them from such sources. The one is the act of a cruel man; the other, of a man both cruel and insulting. It is better to give nothing than to give one person’s goods to others.

For tell me: if you saw two people, one naked and one with a garment, and you stripped the one who had the garment and clothed the naked one, would you not have committed an injustice? That is plain to everyone. But if, when you have given everything you took to another, you have committed an injustice and not shown mercy, then when you do not give even a small part of what you rob, and call the deed almsgiving, what punishment will you not suffer? If men who offered lame animals were blamed, what favor will you find, doing things far worse?

Even a thief who makes restitution to the owner himself still does wrong — so much so that by adding fourfold he barely clears himself of the charge; and this was under the old covenant. What, then, of one who does not steal but takes by violence, who does not even give to the one he robbed but to someone else instead, who gives not fourfold, not even half, and who, besides, is living not under the old covenant but under the new? Think how much fire he is heaping up on his own head. And if he is not yet suffering his punishment, I tell you to mourn him for that very reason, for he is storing up greater wrath against himself, unless he repents. For what does Christ say? “Do you think,” he says, “that they alone were sinners on whom the tower fell? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you also will suffer the same things.”

Let us repent, then, and give alms that are pure of greed, and in great abundance. Consider that the Jews used to feed eight thousand Levites, and together with the Levites, widows and orphans too; they bore many other public costs, and besides all this they served as soldiers. But now the church has fields and houses and lodgings for rent, and carriages and mule drivers and mules, and a great array of this kind — because of you and your hardness of heart. This store of the church ought to be kept with you, and your readiness of mind ought to be her income. But as it is, two wrongs come about: you remain without fruit, and God’s priests do not carry out their proper duties. Could not the houses and lands have been kept in the time of the apostles? Why, then, did they sell them and give the money away? Because this was the better thing.

But now a fear seized our fathers — because you were so crazed for worldly things, always gathering in and never scattering abroad — that the companies of widows and orphans and virgins might die of hunger. That is why they were forced to provide these things. It was not their wish to thrust themselves into something so unfitting. Their desire was that your goodwill would be the supply for these people, that they would gather their harvest from there, and that they themselves would give their attention to prayer alone.

But now you have forced them to imitate the households of those who manage public affairs, and by this everything is turned upside down. For when you and we are both entangled in the same things, who is there to appease God? That is why we cannot open our mouths, when the state of the church is no better than that of worldly people. Have you not heard that the apostles would not agree even to distribute the money that had been collected without any trouble to them? But now our bishops have outdone managers and stewards and peddlers in their care for these things. When they ought to be anxious and thoughtful about your souls, they are troubling themselves every day over the things that innkeepers and tax collectors and accountants and stewards look after.

I do not mention these things idly, by way of complaint, but so that there may be some improvement and change; so that we may be pitied for serving so hard a slavery; so that you may become an income and a store for the church.

But if you are not willing, look: the poor are before your eyes. As many as we can provide for, we will not stop feeding. Those we cannot, we will leave to you, so that on that terrible day you may not hear the words that will be spoken to the unmerciful and cruel: “You saw me hungry and did not feed me.”

For along with you, this heartlessness makes us laughingstocks too. We leave our prayers and our teaching and the other parts of holiness, and spend all our time fighting — some with wine merchants, some with grain dealers, others with those who sell other provisions at retail.

From this come battles and quarrels, daily abuse, reproaches and jeers, and each of the priests has names put on him that better suit the households of worldly men. It would have been fitting instead to take other names in place of these, and to be named from the things the apostles also laid down: from feeding the hungry, from protecting the wronged, from caring for strangers, from helping those who are mistreated, from providing for orphans, from standing with widows, from watching over the virgins. These are the offices that should be divided up among us, instead of the care of lands and houses.

These are the church’s stores; these are the treasures that suit her, and that bring great ease to us and profit to you — or rather, ease to you along with the profit. For I suppose that by the grace of God those who gather here number a hundred thousand. If each of them gave one loaf to one of the poor, everyone would have plenty; if each gave just one penny, no one would be poor. And we would not have to endure so much abuse and so many jeers because of our care over the money. Indeed, the saying “Sell your goods, and give to the poor, and come, follow me” might fittingly be addressed to those who preside over the church, about the church’s property. For in no other way is it possible to follow him as we ought, unless we are set free from all the coarser and more worldly cares.

But as it is, the priests of God attend the grape harvest and the grain harvest, and the selling and buying of produce. Those who served the shadow were entirely exempt from such matters, though they were entrusted with a more bodily service. Yet we, who are invited into the very inmost shrines of the heavens and who enter the true Holy of Holies, take on ourselves the cares of merchants and shopkeepers.

From this comes great neglect of the Scriptures, slackness in prayer, and indifference to all our other duties; for no one can be split between two things and give each the zeal it deserves. That is why I pray and beg you that many fountains may spring up for us from every side, and that your eagerness may be our threshing floor and our wine press.

For in this way the poor will be supported more easily, God will be glorified, and you will grow to a greater measure of love for humankind and will enjoy the eternal good things. May we all attain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.