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MATT. XXVI. 6, 7.
Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper,
there came unto Him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious
ointment, and poured it on His head, as He sat at meat."
This woman seems indeed to be one and the same with all the
evangelists, yet she is not so; but though with the three she cloth
seem to me to be one and the same,yet not so with John, but another
person, one much to be admired, the sister of Lazarus.
But not without purpose did the evangelist mention the leprosy of
Simon, but in order that He might show whence the woman took
confidence, and came unto Him. For inasmuch as the leprosy seemed a
most unclean disease, and to be abhorred, and yet she saw Jesus had
both healed the man (for else He would not have chosen to have tarried
with a leper), and had gone into his house; she grew confident, that
He would also easily wipe off the uncleanness of her soul. And not
for nought doth He name the city also, Bethany, but that thou
mightest learn, that of His own will He cometh to His passion. For
He who before this was fleeing through the midst of them; then, at
the time when their envy was most kindled, comes near within about
fifteen furlongs; so completely was His former withdrawing Himself a
part of a dispensation.
The woman therefore having seen Him, and having taken confidence from
thence came unto Him. For if she that had the issue of blood,
although conscious to herself of nothing like this, yet because of that
natural seeming uncleanness, approached Him trembling and in fear;
much more was it likely this woman should be slow, and shrink back
because of her evil conscience. Wherefore also it is after many
women, the Samaritan, the Canaanite, her that had the issue of
blood, and other besides, that she cometh unto Him, being conscious
to herself of much impurity; and then not publicly but in a house.
And whereas all the others were coming unto Him for the healing of the
body alone, she came unto Him by way of honor only, and for the
amendment of the soul. For neither was she at all afflicted in body,
so that for this most especially one might marvel at her.
And not as to a mere man did she come unto Him; for then she would
not have wiped His feet with her hair, but as to one greater than man
can be. Therefore that which is the most honorable member of the whole
body, this she laid at Christ's feet, even her own head.
"But when His disciples saw it, they had indignation," such are
the words, "saying, To what purpose is this waste? For this
ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor. But
when Jesus understood it, He said, Why trouble ye the woman? for
she hath wrought a good work upon me? For ye have the poor always with
you, but me ye have not always. For in that she hath poured this
ointment on my body, she did it for my burial. Verily I say unto
you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world,
there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a
memorial of her.
And whence had they this thought? They used to hear their Master
saying, "I will have mercy, and not sacrifice,"and blaming the
Jews, because they omitted the weightier matters, judgment, and
mercy, and faith, and discoursing much on the mount concerning
almsgiving, and from these things they inferred with themselves, and
reasoned, that if He accepts not whole burnt offerings, neither the
ancient worship, much more will He not accept the anointing of oil.
But though they thus thought, He knowing her intention suffers her.
For indeed great was her reverence, and unspeakable her zeal;
wherefore of this exceeding condescension, He permitted the oil to be
poured even on His head.
For if He refused not to become man, and to be borne in the womb,
and to be fed at the breast, why marvellest thou, if He doth not
utterly reject this? For like as the Father suffered a savor of
meat, and smoke, even so did He the harlot, accepting, as I have
already said, her intention. For Jacob too anointed a pillar to
God, and oil was offered in the sacrifices, and the priests were
anointed with ointment.
But the disciples not knowing her purpose found fault unseasonably,
and by the things they laid to her charge, they show the woman's
munificence. For saying, that it might have been sold for three
hundred pence, they showed how much this woman had spent on the
ointment, and how great generosity she had manifested. Wherefore He
also rebuked them, saying, "Why trouble ye the woman?" And He
adds a reason, as it was His will again to put them in mind of His
passion, "For she did it," He said, "for my burial." And
another reason. "For ye have the poor always with you, but me ye
have not always;" and, "Wheresoever the gospel shall be preached,
that shall be told also which this woman hath done."
Seest thou how again He declares beforehand the going forth unto the
Gentiles, in this way also consoling them for His death, if after
the cross His power was so to shine forth, that the gospel should be
spread abroad in every part of the earth.
Who then is so wretched as to set his face against so much truth? For
lo! what He said is come to pass, and to whatever part of the earth
thou mayest go, thou wilt see her celebrated.
And yet neither was the person that did it distinguished, nor had what
was done many witnesses, neither was it in a theatre, but in a
house,that it took place, and this a house of some leper, the
disciples only being present.
2. Who then proclaimed it, and caused it to be spread abroad? It
was the power of Him who is speaking these words. And while of
countless kings and generals the noble exploits even of those whose
memorials remain have sunk into silence; and having overthrown cities,
and encompassed them with walls,and set up trophies, and enslaved many
nations, they are not known so much as by hearsay, nor by name,
though they have both set up statues, and established laws; yet that a
woman who was a harlot poured out oil in the house of some leper, in
the presence of ten men, this all men celebrate throughout the world;
and so great a time has passed, and yet the memory of that which was
done hath not faded away, but alike Persians and Indians, Scythians
and Thracians, and Sarmatians, and the race of the Moors, and they
that dwell in the British Islands, spread abroad that which was done
secretly in a house by a woman that had been a harlot.
Great is the loving-kindness of the Lord. He endureth an harlot,
an harlot kissing his feet, and moistening them with oil, and wiping
them with her hair, and He receives her, and reproves them that blame
her. For neither was it right that for so much zeal the woman should
be driven to despair.
But mark thou this too, how far they were now raised up above the
world, and forward in almsgiving. And why was it He did not merely
say, "She hath wrought a good work," but before this, "Why
trouble ye the woman?" That they might learn not at the beginning to
require too high principles of the weaker sort. Therefore neither doth
He examine the act merely itself by itself, but taking into account
the person of the woman. And indeed if He had been making a law, He
would not have brought in the woman, but that thou mightest learn that
for her sake these things were said, that they might not mar her
budding faith, but rather cherish it, therefore He saith it,
teaching us whatever good thing may be done by any man, though it be
not quite perfect, to receive it, and encourage it, and advance it,
and not to seek all perfection at the beginning. For, that at least
He Himself would rather have desired this, is manifest from the
fact, that He required a bag to be borne, who had not where to lay
His head. But then the time demanded not this, that He should
correct the deed, but that He should accept it only. For even as,
if any one asked Him, without the woman's having done it, He would
not have approved this; so, after she had done it, He looks to one
thing only, that she be not driven to perplexity by the reproof of the
disciples, but that she should go from His care, having been made
more cheerful and better. For indeed after the oil had been poured
out, their rebuke had no seasonableness.
Do thou then likewise, if thou shouldest see any one provide sacred
vessels and offer them, and loving to labor upon any other ornament of
the church, about its walls or floor; do not command what has been
made to be sold, or overthrown, lest thou spoil his zeal. But if,
before he had provided them, he were to tell thee of it, command it to
be given to the poor; forasmuch as He also did this not to spoil the
spirit of the woman, and as many things as He says, He speaks for
her comfort.
Then because He had said, 'She hath done it for my burial;" that
He might not seem to perplex the woman, by making mention of such a
thing as this, His burial and death, I mean; see how by that which
follows He recovers her, saying, "What she hath done shall be
spoken of in the whole world."
And this was at once consolation to His disciples, and comfort and
praise to her. For all men, He saith, shall celebrate her
hereafter; and now too hath she announced beforehand my passion, by
bringing unto me what was needed for a funeral, let not therefore any
man reprove her. For I am so far from condemning her as having done
amiss, or from blaming her as having not acted rightly, that I will
not suffer what hath been done to lie hid, but the world shall know
that which has been done in a house, and in secret. For in truth the
deed came of a reverential mind, and fervent faith, and a contrite
soul.
And wherefore did He promise the woman nothing spiritual; but the
perpetual memory? From this He is causing her to feel a confidence
about the other things also. For if she hath wrought a good work, it
is quite evident she shall receive a due reward.
"Then went one of the twelve, he that was called Judas Iscariot,
unto the chief priests, and said unto them, What will ye give me,
and I will deliver Him unto you?"Then. When? When these things
were spoken, when He had said, it is for my burial, and not even
thereby was he moved to compunction, neither when he heard that the
Gospel should be preached everywhere did he fear (and yet it was the
language of unspeakable power), but when women showed so much honor,
and women that had been harlots, then he wrought the devil's works.
But what can be the reason they mention his surname? Because there
was also another Judas. And they do not shrink from saying, He was
of the twelve; so entirely do they hide none of those things which seem
to be matters of reproach. And yet they might have said merely this,
that he was one of the disciples, for there were others besides. But
now they add, of the twelve, as though they had said, of the first
company of those selected as the best, of them with Peter and John.
Because for one thing did they care, for truth alone, not for
concealing what things were done.
For this cause many of the signs they pass by, but of the things that
appear to be matters of reproach they conceal nothing; but though it be
word, though it be deed, though it be what you will of this kind,
they proclaim it with confidence.
3. And not these only, but even John himself, who utters the
higher doctrines. For he most of all tells us of the affronts and the
reproachful things that were done unto Him.
And see how great is the wickedness of Judas, in that he comes unto
them of his own accord, in that he does this for money, and for such a
sum of money.
But Luke saith, that he conferred with the chief captains. For
after that the Jews became seditious, the Romans set over them those
that should provide for their good order For their government had now
undergone a change according to the prophecy.
To these then he went and said, "What will ye give me, and I will
deliver him unto you. And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces
of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray
Him."For indeed he was afraid of the multitude, and desired to
seize him alone.
Oh madness! how did covetousness altogether blind him! For he that
had often seen Him when He went through the midst, and was not
seized, and when He afforded many demonstrations of His Godhead and
power, looked to lay hold on Him; and this while He was using like a
charm for him so many, both awful and soothing words, to put an end to
this evil thought. For not even at the supper did He forbear from
this care of him, but unto the last day discoursed to him of these
things. But he profited nothing. Yet not for that did the Lord
cease to do His part. Knowing this, then, let us also not intermit
to do all things unto them that sin and are remiss, warning,
teaching, exhorting, admonishing, advising, though we profit
nothing. For Christ indeed foreknew that the traitor was
incorrigible, yet nevertheless He ceased not to supply what could be
done by Himself, as well admonishing as threatening and bewailing over
him, and nowhere plainly, nor openly, but in a concealed way. And
at the very time of the betrayal, He allowed him even to kiss Him,
but this benefited him nothing. So great an evil is covetousness,
this made him both a traitor, and a sacrilegious robber.
Hearken, all ye covetous, ye that have the disease of Judas;
hearken, and beware of the calamity. For if he that was with
Christ, and wrought signs, and had the benefit of so much
instruction, because he was not freed from the disease, was sunk into
such a gulf; how much more shall ye, who do not so much as listen to
the Scripture, who are constantly riveted to the things present,
become an easy prey to this calamity, unless ye have the advantage of
constant care. Every day was that man with Him, who had not where to
lay His head, and every day was he instructed by deeds, and by
words, not to have gold, nor silver, nor two coats; and yet he was
not taught self restraint; and how dost thou expect to escape the
disease, if thou hast not the benefit of earnest attention, and dost
not use much diligence? For terrible, terrible is the monster, yet
nevertheless, if thou be willing, thou wilt easily get the better of
him. For the desire is not natural; and this is manifest from them
that are free from it. For natural things are common to all; but this
desire has its origin from remissness alone; hence it takes its birth,
hence it derives its increase, and when it has seized upon those who
look greedily after it, it makes them live contrary to nature. For
when they regard not their fellow countrymen, their friends, their
brethren,in a word all men, and with these even themselves, this is
to live against nature. Whence it is evident that the vice and disease
of covetousness, wherein Judas, being entangled, became a traitor,
is contrary to nature. And how did he become such a one, you may
say, having been called by Christ? Because God's call is not
compulsory, neither does it force the will of them who are not minded
to choose virtue, but admonishes indeed, and advises, and does and
manages all things, so as to persuade men to become good; but if some
endure not, it does not compel. But if thou wouldest learn from what
cause he became such as he was, thou wilt find him to have been ruined
by covetousness.
And how was he taken by this calamity? one may say. Because he grew
remiss. For hence arise such changes, as on the other hand, those
for the better from diligence. How many for instance that were
violent, are now more gentle than lambs? how many lascivious persons
have become afterwards continent? how many, heretofore covetous, yet
now have cast away even their own possessions? And the contrary again
has been the result of remissness. For Gehazi also lived with a holy
man, and he too became depraved from the same disease. For this
calamity is the most grievous of all. Hence come robbers of tombs,
hence menslayers, hence wars and fightings, and whatsoever evil thou
mayest mention, it cometh hence. And in every respect is such a one
useless, whether it be requisite to lead an army or to guide a people:
or rather not in public matters only, but also in private. If he is
to marry a wife, he will not take the virtuous woman, but the vilest
of all; if he have to buy a house, not that which becomes a free man,
but what can bring much rent; if he is to buy slaves, or what else it
may be, he will take the worst.
And why do I speak of leading an army, and guiding a people, and
managing households; for should he be a king, he is the most wretched
of all men, and a pest to the world, and the poorest of all men. For
he will feel like one of the common sort, not accounting all men's
possessions to be his, but himself to be one of all; and when spoiling
all men's goods, thinks himself to have less than any. For measuring
the things present by his desire for those whereof he is not yet
possessed, he will account the former nothing compared to the latter.
Wherefore also one saith, "There is not a more wicked thing than a
covetous man."
4. For such a one both setteth himself to sale, and goeth about, a
common enemy of the world, grieving that the earth doth not bear gold
instead of the corn, and the fountains instead of streams, and the
mountains instead of stone; vexed at the fruitfulness of the seasons,
troubled at common benefits; shunning every means whence one cannot
obtain money; undergoing all things whence one can scrape together so
much as two farthings; hating all men, the poor and the rich; the
poor, lest they should come and beg of him; the rich. because he hath
not their possessions. All men he accounts to be possessed of what is
his, and as though he had been injured by all, so is he displeased
with all. He knows not plenty, he has no experience of satiety, he
is more wretched than any, even as, on the other hand, he that is
freed from these things, and practises self-restraint, is the most
enviable. For the virtuous man, though he be a servant, though a
prisoner, is the most happy of all men. For no one shall do him ill,
no not though all men should come together out of the world, setting in
motion arms and camps, and warring with him. But he that is depraved
and vile, and such as we have described, though he be a king, though
he have on a thousand diadems, will suffer the utmost extremities,
even from a common hand. So feeble is vice, so strong is virtue.
Why then dost thou mourn, being in a state of poverty. Why wailest
thou keeping a feast, for indeed it is an occasion of feasting. Why
weepest thou, for poverty is a festival, if thou be wise. Why
lamentest thou, thou little child; for such a one we should call a
little child. Did such a person strike thee? What is this, he made
thee more able to endure? But did he take away thy money? He hath
removed the greater part of thy burden. But hath he cut off thine
honor? Again thou tellest me of another kind of freedom. Hear even
those without teaching wisdom touching these things, and saying,
"Thou hast suffered no ill, if thou show no regard to it." But
hath he taken away that great house of thine, which hath enclosures
about it? But behold the whole earth is before thee, the public
buildings, whether thou wouldest have them for delight, or for use.
And what is more pleasing or more beautiful than the firmament of
Heaven.
How long are ye poor and needy? It is not possible for him to be
rich, who is not wealthy in his soul; like as it is not possible for
him to be poor, who hath not the poverty in his mind. For if the soul
is a nobler thing than the body, the less noble parts have not power to
affect it after themselves; but the noble part draws over unto
herself, and changes those that are not so noble. For so the heart,
when it has received any hurt, affects the whole body accordingly; if
its temperament be disordered, it mars all, if it be rightly
tempered, it profits all. And if any of the remaining parts should
have become corrupt, while this remains sound, it easily shakes off
what is evil in them also.
And that I may further make what I say more plain, what is the use,
I pray thee, of verdant branches, when the root is withering? and
what is the harm of the leaves being withered above, while this is
sound? So also here there is no use of money, while the soul is
poor; neither harm from poverty, when the soul is rich. And how can
a soul, one may say, be rich, being in want of money? Then above
all times might this be; for then also is it wont to be rich.
For if, as we have often shown, this is a sure proof of being rich,
to despise wealth, and to want nothing; and of poverty again, to
want, and any one would more easily despise money in poverty than in
wealth, it is quite evident that to be in poverty rather makes one to
be rich. For indeed that the rich man sets his heart on money more
than the poor man, is surely plain to every one; like as the drunken
man is thirsty, rather than he that hath partaken of drink
sufficiently. For neither is his desire such as to be quenched by too
much; but, on the contrary, it is its nature to be inflamed by this.
For fire likewise, when it has received more food, then most of all
waxes fierce; and the tyranny of wealth, when thou hast cast into it
more gold, then most especially is increased.
If then the desiring more be a mark of poverty; and he that is in the
possession of riches is like this; he is especially in poverty. Seest
thou that the soul then most of all is poor, when it is rich; and then
is rich, when it is in poverty?
And if thou wilt, let us exercise our reasoning in persons also, and
let there be two, the one having ten thousand talents, the other ten,
and from both let us take away these things. Who then will grieve the
most? He that hath lost the ten thousand. But he would not have
grieved more, unless he had loved it more; but if he loves more, he
desires more; but if he desires more, he is more in poverty. For
this do we most desire, of which we are most in want, for desire is
from want. For where there is satiety, there cannot be desire. For
then are we most thirsty, when we have most need of drink.
And all these things have I said, to show that if we be vigilant, no
one shall harm us; and that the harm arises not from poverty but from
ourselves. Wherefore I beseech you with all diligence to put away the
pest of covetousness, that we may both be wealthy here, and enjoy the
good things eternal, unto which God grant we may all attain, by the
grace and love towards man of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be
glory world without end. Amen.
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