On Our Lord, Part 2

But why did our Lord speak a parable of persuasion to that Pharisee instead of a stern rebuke? He told him the parable gently, so that, stubborn as he was, he might be drawn without noticing it to correct his perverse ways. For waters frozen hard by a cold wind are gently melted by the heat of the sun. So our Lord did not at once oppose him harshly, so as not to give the rebellious an occasion to rebel again. Instead, by gentle coaxing he brought him under the yoke, so that once he was yoked, rebellious though he was, our Lord might work with him as he willed. Now, because Simon was proud in mind, our Lord began with him humbly, so as not to be a teacher to him according to his folly. For if that Pharisee kept the pride of the Pharisees, how could our Lord bring him to gain humility, when the treasure of humility was not in his own hand? But since our Lord was teaching humility to all people, he showed that his own treasury was free of every kind of pride. Yet this was for our sakes, to teach us that whatever treasury pride enters, it gains entry by boasting. For this reason, “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” Our Lord, then, did not use harsh rebuke, because his coming was a coming of grace. Yet he did not hold back from rebuke, because his later coming will be a coming of retribution. For in his coming in humility he made people afraid, because “it is a fearful thing to fall into his hands” when he comes “in flaming fire.” But our Lord gave most of his help by persuasion rather than by rebuke. A gentle shower softens the earth and soaks all through it, but violent rain packs and hardens the surface of the ground so that it does not take the water in. For a harsh word stirs up anger, and wrongs come bound up with it. When a harsh word has opened the door, anger comes in, and at the heels of anger, along with it, come wrongs. [a]

But because every kind of help goes along with humble speech, he who came to bring help used it. See how great the power of a humble word is! By it fierce anger is put down, and by it the swelling waves of a proud mind are calmed. But hear where this began. That Pharisee thought, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known.” Contempt as well as blasphemy can be seen here. Hear how our Lord met this in his reply: “Simon, I have something to say to you.” Love and rebuke can be seen here. For this is a word of love, the kind friends use with their friends. When an enemy reproaches his enemy, he does not speak to him like this, for the madness of anger does not let enemies speak reasonably to one another. But he who prayed for those who crucified him, to show that the fury of anger had no power over him, was about to question those who crucified him, to show that he was governed by reason and not by anger. [b] Accordingly, our Lord placed a word of reconciliation at the start of his speech, so that by reconciliation he might calm the Pharisee, into whose mind discord and division had entered. He was the physician who set his cures against whatever harms people. So our Lord shot out this word like an arrow, and set reconciliation on its head as the barb. He anointed it with love, which soothes the limbs, so that when it flew into the man full of discord, he was at once changed from discord to harmony. For as soon as he heard that humble voice of our Lord saying, “Simon, I have something to say to you,” that secret despiser gave his answer: “Say it, Lord.” The sweet voice entered his bitter mind and brought forth pleasant fruit from it. He who before this voice had secretly despised him, after this voice openly honored him. For humility, by its sweet speech, brings even its enemies to honor it. It is not over its friends that humility tests its power; it is over its enemies that it shows its victories.

So the heavenly King armed himself with the armor of humility, and so conquered the bitter man and drew a good answer from him as a sure pledge of victory. This is the armor Paul spoke of, by which we bring low the lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God. For Paul had received proof of it in himself. As he had been at war in pride but was conquered by humility, so every lofty thing that exalts itself against this humility is to be conquered. For Saul was on his way to subdue the disciples with hard words, but the Master of the disciples subdued him with a humble word. When he to whom all things are possible showed himself to him, he set everything else aside and spoke to him in humility alone, to teach us that a soft tongue does more than anything else against hard thoughts. Paul heard no threats and no words of terror, only weak words, not able to avenge themselves: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” But the words that were thought unable even to avenge themselves were found to take vengeance, by drawing him away from the Jews and making him a fine vessel. He who had been full of the bitter will of the Jews was then filled with the sweet preaching of the cross. When he was filled with the bitterness of the crucifiers, in his bitterness he ravaged the churches; but when he was filled with the sweetness of the Crucified, he made the synagogues of the crucifiers bitter. So our Lord contended in a humble voice with the man who had been warring against his churches with hard bonds. In this way Saul, who had been binding the disciples with bitter chains, was himself bound with pleasant persuasion, so that he would not again throw the disciples into bonds. For he was bound by the Crucified, who silences evil voices, and whom none of those set against him could bind or harm. And when Paul stopped binding the disciples, he himself was bound in chains by the persecutors. But when he was bound in chains, by his own bonds he loosed the bonds of idolatry. [c]

“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” He who had conquered his persecutors in the world below, and ruled over the angels in the world above, spoke from above in a humble voice. He who, while he was on earth, had pronounced ten woes against his crucifiers did not pronounce even one woe against Saul his persecutor when he was in heaven. Our Lord pronounced woe on his crucifiers to teach his disciples not to be dismayed by his murderers. But he spoke in humility from heaven so that the heads of his church might speak in humility. And if anyone should say, “In what way did our Lord speak humbly with Paul? Look, Paul’s eyes were badly struck,” let him know that this chastisement did not come from our merciful Lord, who spoke those words in humility, but from the intense light that shone out there so intensely. This light did not strike Paul as retribution for his deeds; it hurt him because of the intensity of its rays, as he himself said: “When I got up, I could see nothing because of the glory of the light.” But if that light was glorious, Paul, how did the glorious light become a blinding light to you yourself? It was the light that, by its own nature, gives light above, but against its nature it shone out below. When it gave light above, it was delightful; when it shone out below, it was blinding. So the light was both painful and pleasant: painful and violent to the eyes of the flesh, but pleasant and full of light to those who are fire and spirit. [e]

“For I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, and its light shone upon me.” So mighty rays streamed out without moderation and poured onto weak eyes, which moderate rays refresh. Look, even the sun helps the eyes in measure, but beyond measure, out of all measure, it harms them. And it does not strike them in angry vengeance, for the sun is the friend of the eyes and beloved of the eyeballs. And this is a marvel: with its gentle brightness it befriends and helps the eyes, yet by its fierce rays it is hostile to the eyeballs and harms them. But if the sun here below, which is of a kindred nature with the eyes here below, still harms them, by its intensity and not in anger, by its own force and not in wrath, how much more would the light from above, akin to the things above, harm by its intensity a man here below who suddenly gazed on what is not akin to his nature? For since Paul could have been harmed by the intensity of this sun he was used to, if he gazed at it in an unaccustomed way, how much more would he be harmed by the glory of that light his eyes had never been used to? For look, Daniel too melted and was poured out on every side before the glory of the angel, whose fierce brightness suddenly shone on him! It was not because of the angel’s anger that his human weakness melted, just as wax does not melt before the fire because of any anger or hostility in the fire. Rather, because of the weakness of the wax, it cannot hold firm and stand in the presence of fire. When the two come near each other, the power of the fire prevails by its quality, and the weakness of the wax is brought even lower than its former weakness. [g] The majesty of the angel was shown as it is in itself; the weakness of the flesh, in itself, could not bear it. “For my inner parts were turned to corruption.” Yet people do see other people, their fellows, and faint before them. But it is not their bright splendor that moves them; it is their harsh will. Servants are terrified by their masters’ anger, and those on trial tremble for fear of their judges. But this did not happen to Daniel because of any threat or anger from the angel; it happened because of the angel’s awesome nature and overwhelming brightness. For the angel did not come to him with threats. If he had come with threats, how could a mouth full of threats become full of peace, when he came saying, “Peace be with you, you man greatly desired”? So that mouth that was a fountain of thunder (for the sound of his words was like the sound of many hosts) became for him a fountain overflowing with peace. And when the voice reached the terrified ears that were thirsting for the encouraging greeting of peace, a drink of peace was opened and poured out for Daniel. By the angel’s later word of peace, the ears that had been terrified by his first voice were encouraged. For Daniel said, “Let my lord speak, for I have been strengthened.” But in that heart-stirring vision the fiery angel was about to announce nothing concerning the Lord himself. For this reason that majesty of the angel was quick to give the greeting of peace to the lowly prophet, so that by the glad greeting that awesome majesty gave, the dread that lay on the terrified mind of the lowly man might be removed. [i]

But what shall we say about the Lord of the angel, who said to Moses, “No one shall see me and live”? Is it because of the fury of his anger that whoever sees him will die? Or is it because of the splendor of his being? For that being was not made and was not created, so eyes that have been made and created cannot look on it. If it were because of his fury that whoever looks on him will not live, then surely he would have let Moses see him, because of his great love for him. So the Self-Existent One slays those who look on him by the sight of him; but he slays not out of harsh fury but because of his overwhelming splendor. Because of this, in his great love he let Moses see his glory, and yet in that same great love he kept him from seeing his glory. It was not that the glory of his majesty would have been diminished at all; it was that weak eyes could not bear the overwhelming waves of his glory. So God, who in his love wanted Moses’ sight to rest on the fair brightness of his glory, in his love did not want Moses’ sight to be blinded amid the mighty rays of his glory. So Moses saw and did not see. He saw, so that he might be exalted; he did not see, so that he might not be harmed. By what he saw, his lowliness was exalted; and by what he did not see, his weakness was not blinded. In the same way our eyes look at the sun and do not look at it: by what they see they are helped, and by what they do not see they are unharmed. So the eye sees so that it may benefit, but does not dare to look, so that it may not be harmed. So, out of love, God kept Moses from seeing the glory that was too hard for his eyes; and Moses, out of his love, kept the children of his people from seeing the brightness that was too strong for their eyes. For he learned from the one who covered him, spread out his hand, and hid from him the splendor of the glory so that it would not harm him, that he too should spread the veil and hide the overwhelming splendor from the weak, so that it would not hurt them. Now when Moses saw that the sons of perishable flesh could not gaze on the borrowed glory that was on his face, his heart failed within him, because he had sought to dare to gaze on the glory of the Eternal Being. In its floods, look, those above and those below are plunged and spring up again. Its depths no one can sound; its shores no one can reach; no end or limit of it can be found. [l]

Now if anyone should say, “Could God not have brought it about that Moses should look on that glory and not be harmed, and that Paul likewise should look on the light and not be hurt?” let the one who says this understand: though it is possible for the power and overruling might of God that the eyes should change their nature, it does not fit the wisdom and nature of God that the order of nature should be thrown into confusion. Look, it is also easy for a craftsman’s arm to destroy his works, but it does not fit the craftsman’s good sense to ruin fine ornaments. And if anyone wants to say of something that seems fitting to himself, “It would be fitting for God to do this,” let him know that what is fitting for himself is not to speak this way about God. For the first of all fitting things is this: that a man should not teach God what is fitting. It does not become a man to become God’s instructor. It is great wickedness for us to become teachers to the one of whom these created mouths of ours cannot tell how he formed his handiwork. It is an unpardonable wrong for a mouth in its boldness to teach what is proper to the God by whose grace it learned to speak at all. If anyone, then, says, “It would have been fitting for God to do this,” I too, because I have a mouth and a tongue, could say, “It would have been fitting for God not to give man the freedom by which he reproaches the one who is beyond reproach.” But I do not dare to say that it was not fitting for him to give it, so as not to make myself also the instructor of one who cannot be instructed. For because he is just, he would have been reproached by himself if he had not given freedom to people, as though out of grudging he had held back from lowly man the gift that makes him great. So he gave it early, by his grace, so that he might not be justly reproached by himself, even though, look, through that freedom, his own gift, blasphemers wickedly reproach him.

Now why were Moses’ eyes made to shine because of the glory he saw, while Paul’s eyes, instead of being made to shine, were made completely blind? We may be sure that Moses’ eyes were not stronger than Paul’s, for they were akin in one brotherhood of blood and flesh. But another power, by grace, sustained Moses’ eyes, while no power was added in mercy to Paul’s eyes beyond their natural power, and that natural power was taken from them in wrath. Suppose we say that their natural power was taken from them, and that this is why he was defeated and overcome by the overwhelming light, on the reasoning that, had their natural power remained, they could have endured that supernatural light. Even so, let us be sure of this: whenever something transcendent is revealed, something that surpasses and transcends our nature, our natural power cannot stand before it. But if, on the other hand, another power beyond our natural one is added to us, then by that power we receive over and beyond nature we will be able to stand before anything strange that comes on us supernaturally. For look, the power of our ears and eyes is in us and is formed in us in its natural way, and yet our sight and hearing cannot stand before mighty thunder and lightning: first, because they come with violence, and second, because their force suddenly surprises and stuns our weakness. This is what happened to Paul. The force of the light suddenly took his weak eyes by surprise and harmed them. But the greatness of the voice brought down his strength, entered his ears, and opened them, for they had been stopped up by Jewish contentiousness as if with wax. The voice did not plow up the ears as the light harmed the eyeballs. Why? Because it was right that he should hear, but not that he should see. So the doors of hearing were opened by the voice as by a key, but the doors of sight were shut by the light that should have opened them. Why, then, was it right that he should hear? Clearly because by that voice our Lord could reveal himself as the one Saul was persecuting. He could not show himself to the eye as persecuted, for there was no way for this to be: that the son of David should be seen fleeing and Saul pursuing him. That did happen in very deed with the first Saul and the first David. The one was pursuing, the other was being persecuted, and both of them saw each other and were seen by each other. But here only the ear could hear of the persecution of the Son of David; the eye could not see that he was being persecuted. For he was being persecuted in the person of others while he himself was in heaven, he who had earlier been persecuted in his own person while he was on earth. So Saul’s ears were opened and his eyes were closed. He who could not present himself to Saul by sight as persecuted presented himself to him by word as persecuted, when he cried out and said, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” So his eyes were closed, because they could not see the persecution of Christ; but his ears were opened, because they could hear of his persecution. So although Moses’ eyes were bodily eyes like Paul’s, his inward eyes were Christian, for “Moses wrote of me.” But Paul’s outward eyes were open while his inward eyes were shut. Then, because Moses’ inward eyes shone clear, his outward eyes too were made to shine clearly. But Paul’s outward eyes were closed so that, by the closing of the outward eyes, the opening of the inward ones might come about. For he who could not see the Lord in his signs with his outward eyes saw him with the eyes within once those bodily eyes were closed. And because he had received the proof in his own person, he wrote to those whose bodily eyes were full of light, “May he enlighten the eyes of your hearts.” So the signs shown to the outward eyes of the Jews did them no good at all, but faith of the heart opened the eyes of the heart of the Gentiles. Now if Moses had come down from the mountain looking as he usually did, without that shining face, and said, “I saw the glory of God there,” the faithless fathers would not have believed him. In the same way, if Paul had said, “I heard the voice of Christ,” without suffering blindness of his eyes, the sons who crucified Christ would not have accepted it as true. So, as in love, he set on Moses a surpassing sign of splendor, so that the deceivers might believe he had seen the divine glory; but on Saul, as on a persecutor, he set the hateful sign of blindness, so that the liars might believe he had heard the words of Christ. This was so that you might not again speak against Moses, and these might not doubt concerning Paul. For God set signs on the bodies of the blind and sent them to those who were in error, who used to put signs on the borders of their garments. But they did not remember the signs on their garments, and about the signs on the body they went badly wrong. The fathers who saw Moses’ glory did not obey Moses, and the sons who saw Paul’s blindness did not believe Paul. Three times in the desert they threatened to stone Moses and his house with stones, as though they were dogs: “For the whole congregation said to stone them with stones.” And three times they beat Paul’s body with rods, as if he were a dog: “Three times I was beaten with rods.” These are the lions who, out of love for their Lord, were beaten like dogs and torn like flocks of sheep, those flocks that used to stone their guardian shepherds so that ravening wolves might rule over them. [m]

But the crucifiers who corrupted the soldiers with a bribe perhaps said of Paul, “The disciples have bribed him; that is why he keeps company with the disciples.” For those who paid a bribe so that our Lord’s resurrection would not be preached slandered Paul with the charge of a bribe, so that his revelation would not be believed. So the voice astonished him and the light blinded him, so that his astonishment might calm his violence, and his blindness might put his slanderers to shame. The voice stunned his hearing in that it spoke meekly to him, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” And the light blinded his sight so that, when the slanderers said he had taken a bribe and had been hired by it to lie, the blindness that light had brought on him might refute them, showing that it was the light that had driven him to speak the truth. So those who supposed that his hands had taken a bribe, and that because of it his lips were lying, might know that his eyes had given up their light, and that because of this his lips proclaimed the truth. But there was another reason too that the meek voice came with the overwhelming light: so that our Lord might bring about help for the persecutor as if moving from meekness up to exaltation, just as all his helps came about, from lowliness up to greatness. For our Lord’s meekness lasted from the womb to the tomb. And notice that greatness follows close on his lowliness, and exaltation on his meekness. While his greatness was seen in various things, his divinity was revealed by glorious signs, so that it might be known that the one who stood among them was not one but two. For his nature is not a humble nature alone, nor is it an exalted nature alone; there are two natures, mingled the one with the other, the exalted and the humble. So these two natures show their qualities, so that by the quality of each of the two, mankind might tell the two apart. It was not to be supposed that he was merely one, he who was two by mingling; rather, it was to be known that he was two in respect of the blending, though he was one in respect of his being. These things our Lord, through his humility and his exaltation, taught Paul too, on the road to Damascus. [s]

For our Lord appeared to Saul in meekness, since meekness stood close to his greatness, so that because of his greatness it might be known who it was who spoke meekly. Just as his disciples preached our Lord on earth in meekness and in exaltation, in the meekness of his persecution and in the exaltation of his signs, so our Lord preached himself in meekness and in exaltation before Paul: in the exaltation of the force of the light that flashed out, and in the meekness of that meek voice that said, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” So the preaching his disciples preached about him before many people would be like the preaching he preached about himself. And just as, if he had not spoken meekly, it would not have been made known there that he was meek, so, if he had not appeared there as an overwhelming light, it would not have been made known there that he was exalted. And if you should say, “What need was there for him to speak humbly? Could he not have convinced him through the greatness of the light as well?” then know, you who ask, that this answer can be given back to you: because it was necessary that he speak humbly, he spoke humbly. For he who is wise in all things did nothing there that was not fitting to be done. He who has given craftsmen the knowledge to do each thing with the tool fitted for it, does he not himself know what he gives others the power to know? So whatever has been done or is being done by the Godhead, that very thing done by him at that time serves the furtherance of God’s working at that time, even though to the blind the divine arrangements seem the opposite. But so that we may not hold back by force of words a wise inquirer, one who wants to grow by true persuasion as a seed grows by the raindrops, know this, inquirer: because Saul was a persecutor, and our Lord was working to make him persecuted instead of persecutor, he in his wisdom hurried to cry out, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” He did this so that when Saul, who was being made a disciple, heard the one who was making him a disciple say, “Why are you persecuting me?” he might know that the Master whose servant he was becoming was a persecuted Master. Then he might quickly throw off the persecuting of his former masters and clothe himself in the persecuted state of his persecuted Master. Now any master who wants to teach someone anything teaches him either by deeds or by words. If he teaches him neither by words nor by deeds, the man cannot be instructed in his craft. So even though our Lord did not teach Paul humility by deeds, by his voice he taught him the endurance of persecution that he could not teach him by deed. Before our Lord was crucified, he taught his disciples the humble endurance of persecution by deed. But after he had finished his persecution by crucifixion, as he said, “Look, all things are finished,” he could not return to no purpose and begin again anything that had once for all been wisely finished. Or why again do you seek the crucifixion and shame of the Son of God? [t]

For even though our Lord in his grace had earlier brought the majesty of his Godhead down into humility, afterwards in his justice he did not will to bring back to humiliation the littleness of manhood that had been made great. But it was necessary that the persecuting disciple learn to endure persecution, while it was impossible for the Master to come down again and be persecuted afresh. So he taught him by voice what could not be taught by deeds: “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” The meaning of this saying is: “Saul, why are you not persecuted in me?” But so that Saul would not suppose that our Lord was persecuted because of weakness, the strength of the overwhelming light that shone on him convinced him. For if Saul’s eyes could not bear the shining of that light, how could Saul’s hands bind and fetter the disciples of the Lord of that light? Yet his hands had fettered the disciples, so that he might learn their power in their bonds, while his eyes could not bear the beams, so that by the beams’ strength he might learn his own weakness. If the power of that light had not shone on him when the Lord said to him, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?” then, because of the mad pride Paul was puffed up with at that time, he might perhaps have said to him: “I am persecuting you for this very reason, that you have said, ‘Why are you persecuting me?’ For who would not persecute you, when you, with such strength, trouble your persecutor with these feeble cries?” But the humility of our Lord was heard in the voice, and the power of the light shone out in the beams. So Paul could not despise the humility of the voice, because of the glory of the light. So his ears were made disciples of the voice he heard, because his eyes were not able to bear the beams they saw. That marvel of the dawning light poured out on his eyeballs and hurt them; but the voice of the Lord of the light entered his ears and did them no harm. Yet between the light and the Lord of the light, which ought to have been the stronger? If the light he created was so overwhelming, how much more overwhelming is he by whom this very light was created! But if the Lord of the light was overwhelming, as indeed he is, how did his voice enter the hearing and not harm it, the way that light hurt the sight? Hear, then, the wonder and the marvel that our Lord worked by his grace. Our Lord did not will to humble that light of his; instead he, the Lord of the light, humbled himself. And as the Lord of the light is greater than his light, so great is the glory in this: that the Lord of the light humbled himself rather than humble the light.

So too in the night, while he was praying, it is written: “There appeared to him an angel strengthening him.” Here all mouths in heaven and on earth are not enough to give thanks to him by whose hand the angels were created, that for the sake of sinners he was strengthened by that angel who was created by his hand. As, then, the angel from above stood in glory and brightness, while the Lord of the angel, to raise up degraded man, stood in degradation and humility, so here too that light flashed out openly, but the Lord of the light, to help one persecutor, spoke with a humble voice and lowly words. [u] For this reason, then, that overwhelming light, because it was not lessened, entered the eyeballs with overwhelming display and harmed them. But the Lord of the light, because he had lowered himself in order to help, entered with his lowly voice into the ears that were in need, and helped them. And so that the help of that voice, which had become lowly, might not fail him, the strength of that light was not lowered, so that because of the light that was not lowered, the help of the voice that was lowered might be believed. But this is a marvel: until our Lord made himself lowly in voice, Paul was not made lowly in deed. Before he came down and clothed himself in a body, our Lord was in exaltation with his Father, yet in his exaltation people did not learn humility; but when he humbled himself and came down from his exaltation, then through his humbleness humility soon appeared among people. In the same way, after his resurrection and ascension he was in glory at the right hand of God his Father, but Paul did not learn humility from that exaltation of his. So he who was exalted and sat at the right hand of his Father left off glorious and lofty speech and cried out like one wronged and oppressed, with feeble and meek words, saying, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” So humble words prevailed over harsh bridles. By humble words, as by bridles, the persecuted one led the persecutor from the broad way of the persecutors into the narrow way of the persecuted. And since all the signs done in the name of our Lord did not convince Paul, our Lord hurried to meet with humility the man who was hurrying along the road to Damascus in the violence of pride. So by his humble words the harsh violence of pride was checked.

He, then, who used humble words with Paul his persecutor, also used humble sayings with the Pharisee. So great is the power of humility that even God, who overcomes all, did not overcome without it. Humility was also able, in the wilderness, to bear the burden of the stiff-necked people. For against the people who were more stubborn than all people was set Moses, who was meeker than all people. God, who needs nothing, after he had set the people free, then had need of the humility of Moses, so that this humility might endure the anger and grumbling of the people who provoked him. For humility alone could endure the contradictions of that people, whom the signs in Egypt and the wonders worked in the desert could not subdue. When pride had caused divisions among the people, humility used to close up their divisions by its prayer. If, then, the humility of the Stammerer endured six hundred thousand, how much more did the humility of him who gave speech to the Stammerer endure! For the humility of Moses is a shadow of the humility of our Lord. [v]

Our Lord saw, then, that Simon the Pharisee did not believe the signs and wonders he had seen. He came to persuade him with humble words, and humble speech overcame the man whom mighty wonders had not overcome. What, then, were the wonders that Pharisee had seen? He had seen the dead raised to life, lepers cleansed, the blind with their eyes opened. These signs compelled that Pharisee to receive our Lord as his guest, as a prophet. But he who received him as a prophet changed and came to despise him as one who had no knowledge, saying, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known that this woman,” the one who had come to him, “is a sinner.” But we may despise the Pharisee and say, “If he had been a man of discernment, he would have learned from that sinful woman who came to our Lord not that he was a prophet, but that he was the Lord of the prophets.” For the sinful woman’s tears bore witness that it was not a prophet they were seeking to propitiate, but him who, as God, was angry at her sins. Because the prophets were not able to raise sinners to life, the Lord of the prophets came down to heal those who were in a bad way. What physician stops the wounded from coming to him, you blind Pharisee, the way this woman came to our Physician? Why else did the wounded woman come to him, she whose wounds were healed by her tears? He who had come down to be a fountain of healing among the sick was proclaiming this: “Let everyone who is thirsty come and drink.” But when the Pharisees, this man’s companions, grumbled at the healing of sinners, the Physician taught about his art: the door is open for the sick and not for the healthy, for “those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” So the physician’s praise is the healing of the sick, so that the shame of the Pharisee who found fault with the praise of our Physician may be all the greater. Our Lord used to show signs in the streets; and when he entered the Pharisee’s house, he showed signs greater than those he had shown outside. In the street he made sick bodies well, but inside he healed diseased souls. Outside, he raised Lazarus from death to life; but inside, he raised the sinful woman from death to life. He restored the living soul to the corpse it had left, and he drove out of the sinful woman the deadly sin that lived in her. But the blind Pharisee, who was not equal to great things, because of the great things he did not see denied even the small things he had seen. For he was a son of Israel who ascribed weakness to his God, and not to himself. For Israel said, “Though he struck the rock and the waters flowed, can he also give us bread?” But when our Lord saw his weakness, how it missed the great things and, because of them, the small things too, he hurried to put forward a simple word, as for a baby being raised on milk and not able to take solid food. [w]