Leaves from St. John Chrysostom

by Saint John Chrysostom

And whilst they were at supper, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke, and gave to His disciples, and said: Take ye and eat: this is My Body. And taking the chalice, He gave thanks, and gave to them, saying: Drink ye all of this; for this is my Blood of the new testament, which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins. Consider what great hardness of heart the traitor showed. Partaking of the mysteries, he remained the same, and enjoying that most tremendous Banquet, he was not converted. This Luke plainly intimates when he says that after these things the devil entered into him, not despising the Lord’s Body, but scorning the traitor’s shamelessness. For his sin was the greater for two reasons: that he approached the mysteries with such a mind, and that, approaching them, he grew no better. Neither fear, nor gratitude, nor the honour received, had any influence over him. And although Christ knew all things, He did not forbid his approach in order to show you that He leaves no means of conversion untried. Therefore, both before this and after this, He continued to exhort and to check Judas both by actions and words, by fear and by kindness, by threat and by benefit. But nothing availed against that grievous sickness of his. Hence, leaving Judas to himself, He again reminds the disciples through the mysteries of His death as victim, and during the progress of the table discourses about the Cross, seeking, by His insistence in foretelling His passion, to find an entrance for it in their minds. If, with all that was done and foretold, they were troubled, what would they have suffered if they had heard none of these things? Whilst they were eating, He took bread and broke it. Why did he carry out this mystery at the time of the Pasch? In order to teach you everywhere that He is Himself the Lawgiver of the old dispensation, also, and that its ordinances were made to foreshadow these things. On this account He adds the reality to the type. The evening signified the fulness of time, and the end itself to which things were coming. He gives thanks, teaching us how we are to carry out this mystery, and showing us that He goes not unwillingly to the Cross. And He instructs us that, whatever we may suffer, we should bear it with thanksgiving, and opens out from this good hopes for us. For if the type released men from so grievous a slavery, how much more will the reality set the world free, and be bestowed for the blessing of our nature. For this reason He did not institute this mystery until the enactments of the Law were to cease, and He brings to a conclusion the chief of their feasts by translating them to another and a most awful Table, and says: Take and eat, this is My Body which is broken for many. How should they not have feared when they heard this? He had spoken to them often and much before on the same subject. Therefore, He no longer prepares them for it, for they had heard of it sufficiently; but He tells them the reason why He suffers—the remission of sins. He calls His Blood the Blood of the new Testament, that is, of the promise, of the gospel, and of the new law. For this both had been promised of old, and is the bond of the new Covenant. And as the old Covenant had sheep and heifers, so the new Covenant had the Lord’s Blood. Then He goes on to show them that He is about to die, and therefore He commemorates the Covenant, and recalls the old Covenant to their minds, for that too was consecrated through blood! And again He tells them why He is to die, which is shed for many unto the remission of sins, and He says: Do this for a commemoration of Me. Do you see how He leads them away and withdraws them from Jewish customs. ‘As you did that,’ He says, ‘for a commemoration of the wonders in Egypt, so do this for a commemoration of Me.’ That blood was shed to save the first-born sons: this Blood for the remission of the sins of the whole world. This is My Blood, He says, which is shed for the remission of sins. He said this to show by this also that His sufferings and His cross are a mystery, and again, to comfort His disciples through it. And as Moses had said: Let this be to you a perpetual memorial, so He said, For a commemoration of Me, until I come. And again, With desire I have desired to eat this Pasch, that is, ‘to give you the new gifts, that Pasch by which I intend to make you spiritual’. And He Himself drank of it. In order that men, hearing this, might not say: ‘How is this? Are we drinking blood and eating flesh?’ and then be troubled (for words of His on this subject had already disturbed them, and many had been scandalised by them); to remove, I say, their trouble, then also He did it first Himself, and led them gently to a participation of the mysteries. Therefore, He drank His own Blood. ‘How is this?’ you ask. ‘Did men of old do it?’ Certainly not. Therefore, He says: Do this, that He may draw them away from the other. For if this work the remission of sins, as indeed it does, the other is superfluous for the future. Now, as in the case of the Jews, so was it here. He bound up the commemoration of the benefit with the mystery, thereby stopping the mouths of heretics. For when they say, ‘How do we know that Christ suffered?’ amongst other arguments, we silence them also with the mysteries. If, indeed, Jesus did not die, what do the things involved in the rites symbolise?

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The ‘Eyes of Rome’.
(Homilies on Epistle to the Romans,[20] xxxiii., vol. i., p. 489.)

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A good teacher makes it his special duty to help those he is teaching, not by word only, but by prayer also. Hence Paul’s words: Let us give ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word. Who will pray for us now that Paul has departed? Those who emulate Paul: let us only show ourselves worthy of so great an advocacy, that we may not alone hear Paul’s voice in this world, but when we depart hence may deserve to look upon that soldier of Christ. Or rather, if we listen to him here we are sure to see him there, and if we are not near to him we shall undoubtedly see him resplendent in glory close to the King’s throne, where the cherubim give praise, where the seraphim unfold their wings. There with Peter we shall see Paul, the head and leader of the choir of the saints, and we shall be in possession of true charity. For if in this world he so loved men as when he might have been dissolved and with Christ he chose to be here, how much more potently will he show forth the love-charm in that place. This is why I cherish Rome, although I have other grounds for my admiration in its size, and age, and beauty, and population, and power, and wealth, and its successes in wars; apart from all these things, I hold it blessed because Paul wrote to the Romans in his lifetime and loved them so much, because he spoke to them in person, and there finished his life. This is why that city is famous rather than for all other reasons put together: it is like a strong and beautiful human body with two shining eyes, which are the bodies of these two saints. The heavens are not so splendid when the sun is sending forth its rays as the city of Rome transmitting these two lights of hers to the whole world. Rome will yield up Paul; Rome will yield up Peter. Consider in awe what a sight Rome will witness when Paul rises in a moment from that tomb, together with Peter, and is borne away to meet Christ. Think what roses Rome presents to Christ, what a double crown surrounds the city, how it is girt with golden chains, and what the fountains of its being are. This is why I am in admiration at that city, not for its abundance of gold, not for its columns, nor for any other beauty it has, but for these pillars of the Church.

Who could now give me to embrace Paul’s body, to be nailed to his tomb, and to see the dust of him who completed what was wanting to the sufferings of Christ, who bore His marks, and sowed the earth with the Gospel? Who could give me to see the dust of that body in which he went over the world, through which Christ spoke, through which a light shone forth brighter than any lightning, and a voice arose more terrible to the devils than loudest thunder, through which he gave utterance to those blessed words: Would that I could be anathema for my brethren, which he used before kings and was not ashamed, through which we have known Paul and Paul’s Lord? We do not dread the thunderbolt as devils dread that voice. For if they trembled at his garments, how much more at his voice. This voice led them in chains, purified the world, cured diseases, put forth evil, set up truth, had the indwelling Christ, and with Him made itself everywhere heard. That voice of Paul’s was like the cherubim. As God took up His seat on those powers, so did He on the tongue of Paul. It became worthy to receive Christ, speaking those things which were dear to Christ, and soaring to an unspeakable height like the seraphim. For what is beyond those words of his: I am sure that neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor present, nor future, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus? How many wings does that voice seem to you to have? How many eyes? Therefore he said: We are not ignorant of his devices; and so the devils fled, not merely when they heard his voice, but when they saw his cloak from a distance. Would that I could see the dust of this mouth in which Christ did great and unspeakable things, and even greater things than by Himself—for that He did work greater things by His disciples was what He said—through which the Spirit gave those wonderful oracles to the world. For what good thing did that mouth not accomplish? It put forth demons, remitted sins, curbed tyrants, silenced the tongues of philosophers, led the world to God, induced barbarians to be ascetic, and changed all things on earth; nay, in heaven too he did his will, binding and loosing those whom he chose to bind and to loose there, according to the power which was given to him. Would that I could look upon not only the dust of his mouth, but of that heart, which we might not wrongly call the heart of the world, the source of endless good, the beginning, fountainhead of our own life. From thence the spirit of life was poured out upon all, and was diffused amongst the members of Christ. It was sent forth, not through arteries, but through the free choice of good. That heart was so broad that it could embrace whole cities, and peoples, and nations. My heart is enlarged, he says. Yet, large as it was, his all-embracing love often urged and troubled it. For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you, he says. This heart, even dissolved in dust, is what I long to see—the heart which was consumed for each individual sinner, suffering afresh the agony of child-birth over every abortive child, the heart which sees God: For the clean of heart shall see God: the heart which has become a sacrifice: An afflicted spirit is a sacrifice to God: that heart higher than the firmament, wider than the universe, brighter than sunshine, hotter than fire, stronger than adamant, giving forth fruitful streams: For, he says, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water: hence arose the fresh spring which watered not the face of the earth, but the souls of men; hence sprung forth not rivers alone, but fountains of tears by day and by night: that heart which lived a new life, not this physical life of ours: I live, he says, not I, but Christ liveth in me. So that Paul’s heart was His heart—a tablet of the Holy Spirit, a book of charity, a heart in anguish over the sins of men: I am afraid of you, he says, lest perhaps I have laboured in vain among you, and as the serpent seduced Eve, lest coming I should not find you as I wish: a heart fearful about itself whilst full of courage: I am afraid, he says, that after preaching to others I myself shall be cast out; and, again: I am sure that neither angels nor archangels shall be able to separate us: the heart which was made worthy to love Christ as no one else has loved Him, despising death and hell, and torn by the tears of his brethren. What are you doing, he says, weeping and filling my heart with anguish?—that strongest of hearts, which could not endure for a moment to be away from the Thessalonians. Would that I could see the dust of those fettered hands through which the imposition of the Spirit was given and the divine words were written: See what a letter I have written to you with my own hand; and, again: A greeting from the hand of Paul, of those hands at sight of which the viper fell into the fire. Would that I could look upon the dust of those gloriously-blinded eyes which saw the light again for the world’s salvation and were made worthy in the body to behold Christ, and saw earthly things without seeing them, those eyes which looked upon unseen things, which knew not sleep, which were watching in the midst of night, and which did not suffer what other eyes suffer. Would that I could see the dust of those feet which toiled over the world and wearied not, which were chained to a pillory when he was imprisoned, of those feet which traversed known and unknown regions and were often on the way. And why should I speak of each member separately? Would that I could see that tomb in which the armour of justice is stored up, the armour of light, those members which are now in life, which were dead whilst living, in all of which Christ lived, which were crucified to the world, those members of Christ which had put on Christ, the temple of the Spirit, the dwelling-place of holiness, which were chained to the Spirit and nailed to the fear of God, bearing the marks of Christ. This is the body which protects that city and is stronger than any tower of defence or any number of fortifications, and with it is that of Peter, whom he honoured in life, for he went up to consult Peter. In death, therefore, charity made him worthy to be Peter’s companion. Would that I could see this lion according to the Spirit. For like a lion breathing fire on troops of foxes so did he spring upon the tribe of devils and philosophers and fall like a heavy thunderbolt upon the devil’s ranks. Nor did the devil stand against Paul in battle, but so great was his fear and trembling that he retreated from his shadow or his voice. So it was that, being far off, Paul gave the fornicator up to him and again snatched him from his hands, and so he did others too, that they might be taught not to blaspheme. Consider how he ranges against the foe those who are under his own command, rousing and spurring them on. Thus, when he said to the Ephesians, Our warfare is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, he added the reward also, by the words in heavenly things. For, he said, our warfare is not for earthly things, but for heaven and heavenly things. And to others his words were: Know you not that we shall judge angels, how much more things of this world? Taking all this to heart, let us stand bravely. For Paul was also a man and of the same nature as we are, having everything else in common with us; but because he showed a great love for Christ he scaled the heavens and found his place with the angels. If, then, we wish to rouse ourselves a little and to kindle that fire within us, we should emulate that holy one. He tells us himself that this is not impossible: Be imitators of me as I am of Christ. Therefore let us not only admire him and wonder at him, let us also imitate him, that at our departure hence we may be made worthy to see him and to share that unspeakable glory. May this be granted to all of us through the grace and love of Our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be praise for ever and ever. Amen.

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‘This is My Body.’
(1st Homily on the Betrayal of Judas, Benedictine Edition, t. ii., p. 381.)

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Then the disciples came to Him. Then. When? When these things were taking place, and the betrayal was effected, and Judas destroyed himself, the disciples came to Him, saying, Where wilt Thou that we prepare to eat the Pasch? Mark you the difference between disciple and disciples? The one betrays his Lord, the others busy themselves with preparing the Pasch; the one makes a bargain, the others minister for His table: both the one and the others had enjoyed the same miracles, the same teaching, the same authority. Now, how do they differ? In the will: this is everywhere the cause, both of all good and all evil. Where wilt Thou that we prepare to eat the Pasch? Then was that same evening. As Our Lord had no house of His own, they said to Him, Where wilt Thou that we prepare to eat the Pasch? We have no settled dwelling-place, neither tent nor house. Let those who dwell in splendid houses, and spacious courts, and large precincts be taught that Christ had not where to lay His head. Therefore they asked, Where wilt Thou that we prepare to eat the Pasch? What Pasch? This was not our Pasch, but still the Jews’ Pasch; it was this Jewish Pasch which they prepared; Our Lord Himself prepared ours. Not only did He prepare it Himself, but He became our Pasch. Where wilt Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the Pasch? This was the Jewish Pasch which had begun in Egypt. Now, why did Christ partake of it? Because He accomplished all the observances of the law. At His baptism He said: Thus it becomes us to fulfil all justice. I came to redeem man from the malediction of the law. For God sent His own Son, made of woman, made under the law, that He might redeem those who were bound by it, and might put an end to the law. Now, to prevent anyone from saying that He abolished the law because He was unable to fulfil it, as being burdensome, and hard, and oppressive, having first Himself carried it out, He then dissolved it. On this account He held the Pasch also, for the Pasch was an ordinance of the law. And why did the law order the eating of the Pasch? The Jews were ungrateful towards their benefactor, and so immediately after the benefits they forgot God’s precepts. When they came out of Egypt, and saw the waters parted, and again closed, and a thousand other wonders, they said, Let us make to ourselves gods who may go before us. What say you? You still touch the wonders with your hands, and have you forgotten the benefactor? Since, therefore, they were thus without feeling or understanding, God kept alive the memory of His gifts by the ordinance of feasts, and He commanded the Pasch to be sacrificed, so that if your son ask you, ‘What is this Pasch?’ you may answer, ‘Our forefathers in Egypt sprinkled their doors with the blood of the lamb, lest the angel of destruction, when he came, should enter in and smite with the plague’. Thus the feast was a perpetual memorial of salvation. Moreover, not only did these feasts benefit them by keeping fresh the memory of graces in the past, but something much more, for they foreshadowed what was to come. That lamb, indeed, was the figure of another Lamb, a spiritual Lamb, and that sheep of another Sheep. The one was a shadow, the other the reality. When the Sun of Justice appeared, the shadow forthwith ceased, for at sunrise the shadows depart. Consequently, at that table itself, each Pasch takes place—the Pasch of the figure and the Pasch of the reality. Just as painters use one and the same canvas for outlining their subject and depicting shadow, and then add colouring to make it life-like, so did Christ act. At one and the same table He showed forth the typical Pasch, and set up the true Pasch. Where wilt Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the Pasch? It was then the Jewish Pasch, but when the sun appears let the lamp be extinguished; with the advent of truth let the shadow languish.