Homily 89 — Matthew 27, verse 62, to 28, verse 10

“Now on the next day, the day after the Preparation, the chief priests and Pharisees came together to Pilate and said, ‘Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was still alive, “After three days I will rise again.” So order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, or his disciples may come and steal him away and say to the people, “He has risen from the dead,” and the last deception will be worse than the first.’” [a]

Everywhere deceit turns back on itself and, against its will, supports the truth. Look at this. It had to be believed that he died, that he rose again, and that he was buried, and all these things are brought about by his enemies. See, at any rate, how these words bear witness to every one of these facts. “We remember,” they say, “that that deceiver said while he was still alive” — so he was now dead — “‘After three days I will rise again.’ So order the tomb to be sealed” — so he had been buried — “or his disciples may come and steal him away.” So if the tomb is sealed, there will be no foul play. There could not be. So then, by the very things you have put forward, the proof of his resurrection has become beyond dispute. Because it was sealed, there was no foul play. But if there was no foul play, and the tomb was found empty, it is clear that he has risen, plainly and beyond dispute. Do you see how even against their will they fight for the proof of the truth?

But notice, please, the disciples’ love of truth: they hide from us none of the things his enemies said, even when these are insults. Look, at any rate: his enemies even call him a deceiver, and the disciples do not keep quiet about that. These things show the enemies’ savagery — not even at his death did they let go of their anger — and they also show the simple and truthful character of these men. But it would be worth asking about this point too: where did he say, “After three days I will rise again”? One would not find it stated this plainly; one finds, rather, the example of Jonah. So they understood his saying, and dealt dishonestly of their own free will.

What, then, does Pilate say? “You have a guard; make it as secure as you can.” “And they made it secure, sealing the tomb and setting the guard.” He does not let the soldiers seal it by themselves. Having learned the facts about Christ, he was no longer willing to work with them. But to be rid of them he puts up with this too, and says: “Seal it yourselves, as you like, so that you will have no one else to blame.” If the soldiers alone had sealed it, they might have said — the claim would have been improbable and false, but just as they had thrown off all shame in everything else, they might have managed to say this too — that the soldiers had let the body be stolen and so given his disciples the chance to make up the story of his resurrection. But now that they have made it secure themselves, they cannot say even this.

Do you see how they labor for the truth against their will? They themselves came to Pilate, they themselves asked, they themselves sealed it and set the guard, so that they become each other’s accusers and refuters. And really, when would the disciples have stolen him? On the Sabbath? And how? It was not lawful even to go out. And even if they had broken the law, how would men so timid have dared to come out? And how could they also have persuaded the crowds? By saying what? By doing what? And from what kind of zeal could they have taken up the cause of a dead man? Expecting what reward? What return? While he was still alive and had merely been seized, they had fled. After his death, were they likely to speak boldly for him, unless he had risen again? How could that make sense?

That they were neither willing nor able to make up a resurrection that did not happen is plain from this. He spoke to them a great deal about a resurrection, and kept saying, as these very men have stated, “After three days I will rise again.” So if he had not risen again, it is quite clear that these men would have loathed him. They had been deceived; for his sake they had been made the enemies of a whole nation and left without home and without city. They would not have wanted to surround him with such glory, when they had been deceived and had fallen into the greatest dangers on his account. And that they could not even have made it up, unless the resurrection were true, does not need any argument at all.

In what, then, were they confident? In the sharpness of their reasoning? No, of all men they were the most unlearned. In the abundance of their possessions? No, they had neither staff nor shoes. In the distinction of their family? No, they were humble men from humble ancestors. In the greatness of their country? No, they came from obscure places. In their own numbers? No, they were no more than eleven, and they had been scattered. In their Teacher’s promises? What kind of promises? If he had not risen again, they would not have been likely to trust those either.

And how would they have stood up to a people in a frenzy? If the chief of them could not bear the words of a woman who kept the door, and if all the rest too scattered when they saw him bound, how would they have thought of running to the ends of the earth to plant a made-up tale of a resurrection? If he could not stand up to a woman’s threat, and they could not stand even the sight of chains, how could they stand up to kings and rulers and nations, where there were swords and roasting grates and furnaces and countless deaths day after day, unless they had the benefit of the power and grace of the one who rose again? Such great miracles, and so many, had been done, and the Jews regarded none of them, but crucified the man who had done them. Were they likely to believe these men on their bare word about a resurrection? It is not so; it is not so. The might of the one who rose again brought these things about.

But notice, please, how ridiculous their cunning is. “We remember,” they say, “that that deceiver said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’” Yet if he was a deceiver, and boasted of falsehoods, why are you afraid? Why do you run back and forth and take such pains? Here is their answer: “We are afraid that his disciples may steal him away and deceive the crowd.” And yet this has been shown to have no likelihood at all. But malice is quarrelsome and shameless, and attempts what makes no sense. [f]

They order it to be made secure for three days, as though they were contending for a point of teaching and wanted to prove that before that time, too, he had been a deceiver; and they carry their malice even to his tomb. This is why he rose sooner: so that they could not say that he had lied and had been stolen. His rising sooner was open to no charge, but rising later would have been full of suspicion. If he had not risen then, while they were sitting there on guard, but after they had gone away when the three days were over, they would have had something to say against it, however foolish. That is why he got ahead of the time. It was fitting for the resurrection to take place while they were sitting by and watching. That is also why it was fitting for it to take place within the three days: if it had happened after they had passed and the men had gone away, the matter would have been under suspicion. That is also why he let them seal it as they wished, and soldiers sat around it.

They cared nothing about doing these things and working on a Sabbath day. They looked to one thing only, their own wicked purpose, as though that would bring them success. This was a sign of the utmost folly, and of a fear that was already badly shaking them. The men who seized him when he was alive are afraid of him when he is dead. And yet if he had been a mere man, they had reason to take courage. But so that they might learn that while he lived, too, he endured of his own will what he did endure — look: a seal, a stone, and a guard, and they could not hold him. There was only one result: the burial was made public, and through it the resurrection was proved. For soldiers sat by the tomb, and Jews were on the watch.

“Late on the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb. And look, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door of the tomb, and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.”

The angel came after the resurrection. Why, then, did he come and take away the stone? Because of the women, for they themselves had seen him in the tomb earlier. So, that they might believe he had risen again, they see the tomb empty of the body. That is why he rolled away the stone, and that is also why an earthquake took place: so that they might be thoroughly roused and awakened. They had come to anoint him with oil; these things were done at night, and it is likely that some of them had even grown drowsy.

And for what purpose and reason does he say, “As for you, do not be afraid”? First he frees them from their dread, and then he tells them of the resurrection. And that “you” is the word of one showing them great honor, and indicating that the worst punishment awaits those who had dared to do what the others had dared, unless they repented. It is as though he meant: “Fear is not for you, but for those who crucified him.”

So having freed them from fear both by his words and by his appearance — for he showed himself in a bright form, as the bearer of such good news — he went on to say, “I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.” And he is not ashamed to call him “crucified,” for this is the chief of all blessings.

“He has risen.” How is that evident? “As he said.” It is as though he would say: “If you refuse to believe me, remember his words, and then you will not disbelieve me either.” Then comes another proof: “Come, see the place where he lay.” This is why he had lifted away the stone, so that they might receive proof from this too. “And tell his disciples that you will see him in Galilee.” So he prepares them to bring the good news to others, and that more than anything made them believe. And he did well to say “in Galilee,” freeing them from troubles and dangers, so that fear would not stand in the way of their faith.

“And they left the tomb with fear and joy.” Why was this? They had seen something astonishing and beyond all expectation: an empty tomb, where they had earlier seen him laid. That is why he had brought them to see it, so that they might become witnesses of both things, his tomb and his resurrection. For they reasoned that no one could have taken him, with so many soldiers sitting beside him, unless he raised himself up. That is why they rejoice and marvel, and receive the reward for having stayed with him so steadfastly: that they should be the first to see, and to announce with gladness, not only what had been said but also what they saw.

So after they had left with fear and joy, “look, Jesus met them, saying, ‘Greetings!’” And “they took hold of his feet”: with overflowing joy and gladness they ran to him, and through touch as well they received sure proof and full assurance of the resurrection. “And they worshiped him.” What, then, does he say? “Do not be afraid.” Again he himself drives out their fear, making way for faith. “But go, tell my brothers to go into Galilee, and there they will see me.” Notice how he himself sends good news to his disciples through these women. As I have often said, he is bringing honor, and good hopes, to the sex that had been most dishonored, and healing what was diseased. [j]

Perhaps some of you would like to be like them and hold the feet of Jesus. You can do it even now — and not his feet and his hands only, but you can even take hold of that sacred head — by receiving the awe-inspiring mysteries with a pure conscience. And not only here: on that day, too, you will see him coming with that glory beyond words and the multitude of the angels, if you are willing to be kind to your fellow human beings. And you will hear not only these words, “Greetings!”, but those others as well: “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you before the foundation of the world.”

So be kind to others, so that you may hear these things. And you women who wear gold, who have seen how these women ran: now at last, though late, lay aside the disease of craving golden ornaments. If you want to be like these women, exchange the ornaments you wear, and clothe yourselves with almsgiving instead. Tell me, please, what is the use of these precious stones, and of these garments spangled with gold? You say: “My soul is glad, and is pleased with these things.” I asked you for the profit, and you tell me the harm. Nothing is worse than being taken up with these things, delighting in them, and being riveted to them. This grievous slavery is all the more bitter when a person finds delight even in being a slave. In what spiritual matter will she ever be as diligent as she ought? When will she laugh to scorn, as she should, the things of this world, when she thinks it a fit reason for joy that she has been chained in gold? A man who stays in prison and is pleased about it will never want to be set free. Neither will this woman. She has become a kind of captive to this wicked craving, and she will not bear even to hear spiritual talk with the desire and diligence it deserves, much less to set her hand to such work.

What, then, tell me, is the profit of these ornaments and this luxury? You say: “I am pleased with them.” Again you have told me the harm and the ruin. You say: “But I also enjoy great honor from those who see me.” And what is that? It is the occasion of yet another destruction, when you are lifted up to haughtiness and arrogance. Come now: since you have not told me the profit, bear with me while I tell you the harm. What harm, then, comes of it? Anxiety, which is greater than the pleasure. That is why many of those who look at it — the coarser sort, I mean — get more pleasure from it than the woman who wears the gold. You adorn yourself with anxiety, but they, without it, feast their eyes.

And there are still other harms: the soul is debased, and you are looked on with envy on every side. The women of the neighborhood, stung by it, arm themselves against their own husbands and stir up grievous wars against you. Along with these, all one’s leisure and all one’s care are spent on this; one does not apply oneself earnestly to spiritual achievements; one is filled with haughtiness, arrogance, and empty glory; one is riveted to the earth and loses one’s wings, and instead of an eagle becomes a dog or a pig. For you give up looking up to heaven and flying there, and bend down to the earth like the pig, prying into mines and caves, with a soul that is unmanly and base.

But do you turn the eyes of the people in the marketplace toward you when you appear? Well then, for this very reason you should not wear gold: so that you do not become a public spectacle and open the mouths of many accusers. Not one of those whose eyes are on you admires you. They jeer at you as a woman fond of dress, as a show-off, as a woman given to the flesh. And if you go into a church, you come out having gained nothing but countless leers and insults and curses, not only from those who see you but from the prophet as well. For as soon as Isaiah, who has the fullest voice of all, sees you, he will cry out at once: “This is what the Lord says against the princely daughters of Zion: Because they walked with necks held high and with winking eyes, trailing their garments as they walked and mincing with their feet, the Lord will take away their finery; and instead of a sweet smell there will be dust, and instead of a fine sash you will tie a rope around yourself.”

That is for your gorgeous finery. These words are not addressed to those women only, but to every woman who acts as they did. And Paul in his turn stands beside him as an accuser, telling Timothy to charge the women “not to adorn themselves with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly clothing.” So wearing gold is harmful everywhere, but especially when you are going into a church, when you pass by the poor. If you were extremely eager to bring a charge against yourself, you could not put on any other outfit than this one, which wears the face of cruelty and inhumanity.

Think, at any rate, how many hungry bellies you pass by in this finery, how many naked bodies with this devilish display. How much better to feed hungry souls than to pierce the lobes of your ears and hang from them, to no purpose or profit, the food of countless poor people! What? Is being rich something to be commended? What? Is wearing gold something to be praised? Even if these things were put on you from honest earnings, what you have done is a very heavy charge against you. But when they come from dishonesty besides, think how enormous the charge is. [n]

But do you love praise and honor? Then strip off this ridiculous clothing, and then everyone will admire you. Then you will enjoy both honor and pure pleasure; as things are now, at any rate, you are buried under jeers, and you create for yourself many sources of vexation from these things. For if any of these things goes missing, think how many evils spring from it: how many maidservants are beaten, how many men are put to trouble, how many are led off to execution, how many are thrown into prison. From this come trials and lawsuits, and countless curses and accusations — against the wife from her husband, against the husband from her friends, against the soul from itself. You say: “But it will not be lost.” In the first place, that is not easy to make sure of. But even if it is kept safe all the time, the very keeping of it brings much anxiety and care and discomfort, and no advantage.

What kind of profit comes of it to the household? What advantage to the woman herself who wears it? No advantage at all, but much unseemliness, and accusation from every side. How will you be able to kiss Christ’s feet and cling to them, dressed like this? He turns away from this kind of adornment. This is why he consented to be born in the house of the carpenter — or rather, not even in that house, but in a shed and a manger. How, then, will you be able to look at him, when you do not have the beauty that is desirable in his eyes, and do not wear the clothing that is lovely before him, but what is hateful to him? Whoever comes to him must not deck himself out in such garments, but be clothed with virtue.

Consider what, after all, these jewels are: nothing but earth and ashes. Mix water with them, and they are clay. Consider this, and be ashamed to make clay your master, abandoning everything else and clinging to it, carrying it and wearing it about even when you go into a church, when most of all you ought to run from it. The church was not built so that you could display these riches in it, but spiritual riches. Yet you deck yourself out on every side as though you were entering a grand procession, imitating the women on the stage; that is how you carry about that ridiculous load in such abundance.

That is why, I tell you, you come here to do harm to many. When the congregation is dismissed, you can hear most of them describing these things in their homes and at their tables. They have stopped saying, “The prophet said this, and the apostle said that,” and they describe instead how costly your garments are, how large your precious stones, and all the rest of the unseemliness of those who wear these things.

This makes you slow to give alms, you and your husbands too. Not one of you would readily agree to break up one of these ornaments to feed a poor man. When you would rather be in distress yourself than see these things broken to pieces, how would you feed someone else at their cost?

Most women feel toward these things as toward living creatures, and not less than toward their own children. You say: “God forbid!” Then prove it to me; prove it by what you do, for now, at any rate, I see the opposite. Who among those who are completely held captive by them has ever melted these things down to rescue a child’s soul from death? And why do I say a child’s? Who has ever redeemed his own soul by them when it was perishing? On the contrary, most people even sell it for these things every day. If some sickness of the body comes, they do everything; but if they see their soul corrupted, they take no such pains. They are careless about both their children’s souls and their own, so that these things may stay put and rust with time.

And while you wear jewels worth ten thousand talents, a member of Christ does not even have the food he needs. The common Lord of all has shared with all alike heaven, and the things in heaven, and the spiritual table; yet you do not share with him even perishable things — all so that you may go on forever bound with these grievous chains.

From this come countless evils; from this comes the men’s sexual immorality, when you prepare them to throw off self-restraint, when you teach them to delight in the very things prostitutes deck themselves with. That is why they are so quickly taken captive. If you had taught him to look down on these things, and to delight in chastity, reverence, and humility, he would not have been so easily taken by the arrows of sexual immorality. The prostitute can adorn herself in this way, and even more than this; but with those other ornaments she cannot. So accustom him to delight in those ornaments, which he cannot see on the prostitute. And how will you bring him into this habit? If you take off these ornaments and put on those others. Then your husband will be safe, and you will be honored, and God will be gracious to you, and everyone will admire you, and you will attain the good things to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.