In pharisaeum et meretricem

On the Pharisee and the Prostitute. Spoken on Holy and Great Wednesday. Every time is suitable for anyone who wishes to repent. For it is possible for each one who desires, in spring to cause good living to sprout, in summer to gather the sheaves of salvation, in autumn to perceive the harm, the corruption of the soul, in winter to flee the winter of lawless deeds, in every season to turn the turn toward the better, in night to avoid the night of sin, in day to run toward the light of a clear conscience, and to run back to the Creator. But this present time, fortified by self-control and fasting, is more suitable for repentance, yet not for all. For the voice almost says, "If someone comes to me, I, taking him, will lead him to the common Creator." Let us therefore wing ourselves with the wings of faith and of repentance, and let us wish to fly up to our own Maker—both we, as firstborn sons of the Church, and you, who, like embryos, are being prepared for birth in the womb of the Church, and who long to greet the blessed and painless birth pangs and to become children of the One who fought for us (for the grace of faith is necessary also for you who are about to enjoy the same good things). We, in order that we may wipe clean with tears the royal garment which we put on and soiled; you, in order that you may be able to put it on and keep it better than any filth. For without sincere faith, it is not possible for anyone to attain the love of God for humanity.

This prostitute, who held faith and repentance like two torches, and ran to the heavenly bridegroom, and became a bride of Christ in a single day, supports my argument, among countless others. But since I have mentioned the blessed prostitute—for I still call her by her reproachful name, so that we may know who she was before and what she became afterward—I wish to bring her into the holy Church, so that we too may learn from her how we ought to approach Christ and obtain deliverance from our sins. For what happened in her case is a clear lesson for what ought always to happen in ours; and the Savior’s discourse with her will be an encouragement to sinners. For who, hearing that a woman stained with countless blemishes, merely by fleeing to him and pouring hot drops of tears at his feet, received the ordination of virginity? Show the same manner, so that you may reap the same fruit. For who, considering her transformation and the reward, will not practice the same disposition, so as to find the same recompense?

What is a prostitute, if not corruption, or manifest outrage against nature, or a public triumph of the female sex, a ruin of bodies and souls, a plague seasoned with pleasure, a whitewashed tomb, an insatiable and unquenchable mouth of Hades, a gilded gateway of death, a pleasant poison, shamelessness speaking boldly, shameless shame, fair-faced destruction, bait for lascivious contrivances, birdlime for the young, a huckster of her own limbs, an abyss of ruin, a beloved shipwreck, a common calamity of every sin, a brazen workshop, a teacher of all lawlessness, a creator of enmity toward God, material for the fire of eternal Gehenna? Yet nevertheless, the servant of such and so great evils, because she fell in love with chastity contrary to custom, is inscribed in the books of the Gospels. Having opened these, let us take delight in the story concerning her, just as she took delight in Christ. One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him. And entering the house of the Pharisee, he reclined. Who has seen a king invited by a soldier? Who has seen a master fed by a slave? Who has seen such height descending to such lowliness? O the exceeding astonishment! O the divine condescension! He did not say to the Pharisee who invited him: You invite me, who invite all men to the heavenly banquet, to a meal? You invite me, who satisfied an entire multitude with five loaves, to a meal? You invite me, who gives food to every flesh, to a meal? The Savior said none of these things, but sitting in silence, he reclined in the house of the Pharisee.

For he knew what excellent feast he was about to feast upon; he knew how the prostitute was about to run to him and be saved; and he sent his glance everywhere, surveying the hunt, and all but cried out to those reclining: "I have food to eat, which you will soon see; I have food to eat, the salvation of the woman who is about to approach me. For my food is the conversion of people; my food is the life of my servants; my banquet is the repentance of sinners; my delight is the release of the condemned; my feast is the ransom of captives." While the Savior was speaking these things on his couch, by his glance and his posture, "Behold," he says, "a woman in the city, who was a sinner." The prey ran together with the purpose of the heavenly king; the hunter was comfortably reclining, and the prey hastened toward the hunter. And behold, a woman in the city, who was a sinner. Two grievous marks of vice. Tell us, evangelist, her appellation, write the name of the woman, let us learn what she was called.

She had a name that was sin, and a title that was wickedness. When she saw that Jesus was reclining in the Pharisee’s house, she said to herself: “Christ is within, who teems with love for humanity and wells up with compassion; Christ is within, who speaks and gives healings, and utters cures; Christ is within, who is hymned by angels and dwells among men as one of them; Christ is within, who is enthroned with the Father and under the same roof as the Pharisee; Christ is within, who nourishes all with his divinity and is nourished by his humanity; Christ is within, and he endures a Pharisee’s table, he who fills every table with every good; and he has deigned to enter the Pharisee’s tent; he has consented to feast together with the sinner, the sinless one. I have good hopes concerning my evils. For if he has shown himself such toward the Pharisee, surely he will be kind and loving toward me as well. I have found, as I wished, the common mercy seat; I have found the one who finds those who seek him; I have found the one who seeks those who long for him; I have found the one who runs to those who run to him and meets those who approach him; I have found that both the time and the place are fighting on my side. Let me, who am befouled by self-indulgence, go to the pure spring; let me not remain defiled when such a spring has appeared; I shall bathe myself for free, for that is what the spring wishes. Let me, who have used even the days as nights, go to the eternal light; let me see the heavenly light in the light; let me, who bring the darkness of injustice, go to the sun of justice.

For who, conversing with light, does not partake of light? Let me go in to the king of the heavens, who has come to me for my sake, and is even now arriving at this house, and, as it seems, has long been awaiting my approach. Let me go in to the heavenly physician, I who have been given up as hopeless by all. Let me go in to the heavenly physician, I who am sick in the midst of health. For seeing me thus, he can apply a remedy to my sufferings, one able to lull every pain to rest. I will show my sores to the one who knows them, and receive the medicine. Let me go in to the only life, I who, through the most worthless life, have cut myself off from life. Let me go in to the philanthropic judge, I the condemned woman. Before the resurrection from the dead, I will settle my accounts; before the fearful judgment, I will escape the judgment; before the dread tribunal, I will steal away the scourges. Before I see Christ pronouncing sentence as a judge, let me see him conversing philanthropically. Before I fear him punishing, I will flatter him present. I am not the first to dare converse with him. Already another woman, a Samaritan, as I have heard, lawless in respect to the law, met him at the well, the well, and went away drawing the knowledge of God. And again, some other woman of the Canaanite race, a free shoot from the accursed and slavish seed, having entered into an interview concerning a demon that was tyrannizing her only daughter, turned back having received authority over the demon, and the mother became a physician to her daughter, and that harsh and barbarous demon no longer dared to approach the girl, having been frightened by the command of Christ’s voice.

Let me then imitate her, and become one who stands beside the one who bestows all things, who has both the power and the will; let me use the habit of shamelessness for my own benefit; let me present myself unbidden to the Saviour as he feasts, as though I were a city having the form of many banqueters; let me loose my hair and bewail my own wretchedness; let me slacken the intricate nets, so that I may hunt the mercy that pours forth unsparingly; let me weep well once, I who have laughed often and ill; let me weep now before the compassionate judge, so that I may not weep in the end to no avail; let me lament now a little, so that I may not lament then much; let me flood the feet of Christ with tears, so that he may wash away my transgressions with his words; let me wipe the tears with my locks, so that from this some sanctification may also attach to them; let me kiss the immaculate footprints, which even the sea has kissed, so that with chaste kisses I may spit out the venom from licentious kisses; let me embrace the divine limbs, the virginal limbs, the limbs born of a virgin, so that from those holy limbs I may channel some drop of righteousness into my condemned limbs.

He will be moved to compassion by these things, the compassionate one; he will have mercy on her who falls at his feet, whom he did not punish when she sinned; he will have mercy on her who kneels, whom he continued to benefit while she danced disorderly; he will have mercy on her who wishes to be saved, whom he found perishing and bore gently. He cannot overlook genuine tears, he cannot but appear to me as he is by nature, compassionate; a groan rising from the depth of the soul has great power with him; repentance has great boldness before him; he will surely speak to me something gentle and calm, befitting his divinity. These things the wise woman pondered, these things the faithful woman did. And having arrayed herself in a woman's garment, in a maidenly, not a whorish manner, and having thus concealed all her former form, which had previously lain open to all as in a theater, and having looked around carefully from every side, so that no whorish demeanor might enter with her to accuse her before the Lord, she rushed into the Pharisee's room, and standing at the master's feet, she fulfilled her premeditated plan. For, it is said, having brought an alabaster jar of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment, speaking in silence, and crying out in stillness, and addressing with her soul the one who knows how to hear anguished souls and mouths that do not speak, writing such a supplication, as is likely, with her tears: "I was cast away like a lost sheep; but I have recognized you as my Master, my shepherd and Lord.

I became a wild beast's prey by my own will, but I gained the sense to escape the bitter bites of the wolf; I was shipwrecked many times willingly, but I was saved from the shipwreck, having grasped your presence as an anchor. But I have no boldness of speech; for every sinner is without boldness of speech; I have no justification whatsoever; for every sinner and lawbreaker is without justification; I have no voice; for every condemned person is voiceless; my evil conscience blocks my mouth, which my corrupted life has ruined; the accuser wealth chokes my tongue, always crying within me, "Lock your speech within your lips; the mouth of sinners is unfit for intercession, and the tongue of the condemned is unsuitable for supplication, and counterfeit speech is not seemly for petition." In silence I teach you, who know all, my circumstances; I speak with my face, I cry out with my form, I proclaim my lawlessness with my eyes, I confess my transgressions with my tears, I announce with my groans you, who alone cannot be hidden. As a captive with all my weapons I fall before you, the king of the heavens; and all my limbs, with which I waged war against you, or rather against myself, I offer to you, lover of mankind. Have mercy on this head, because my lawlessness has overtopped my head; have mercy on these hairs, which you formed; have mercy on these eyes, which you created; have mercy on this clay, which you yourself shaped into beauty, but which I used for the world in formless disorder; have mercy on your image, upon which the enemy played as he wished.

Have mercy on your monument, which your enemy has stripped as if it were masterless. Accept these tears as ransom, and as a good man, dismiss the charges. Only will it, and I am released; only nod, and I am ransomed; give the order, and what is desired is accomplished. For what you will is action, and your word is deed. Let me receive freedom from your immaculate feet, as the woman with the hemorrhage stole healing from your hem, you having willed that it be stolen. Let me too become a story for those after me of your philanthropy. Send me and my affairs on to later generations as a beautiful reminder of your mercies. Let all say that once a lawless and condemned prostitute, coming to Jesus, was justified by him; and as all look on with me, let them approach and seize your gifts. Righteous and philanthropic judge, who for great philanthropy consorts even with the condemned, I have come here to you as to a judge; dictate my pardon to me here. Do not parade my sins before all creation, do not publicize my lawlessness in the future judgment; do not send me to the eternal fire, which has as its fuel the life of the careless. Jesus Christ, Son of the Virgin Mary, and maker of the Virgin, through the Virgin, your mother, and again virgin, reclaim through that holy one me, the polluted, and make me holy. You too were born of a woman, as you alone know, and you know the weakness of human beings.

While the faithful woman was speaking such things within herself and praying, the Savior, being near, allowed the longing woman to take full delight in her desire and to entrust those feet to her for insatiable enjoyment, as he lay on the bed, delighting in her weeping, feasting on the tears of repentance, and hungering for the thirst of the one thirsting for mercy. From this, the Pharisees began to whisper softly to one another, saying: What is this strange and paradoxical spectacle? Who taught this prostitute to be chaste? Who persuaded this woman, poured out for shameful pleasures, to think such thoughts? Is this not the notorious disgrace of our city? Is this not the woman of those who always desire? Is this not the accuser of each one's sin? Is this not the enemy of chastity and the burglar of lawful marriages? Is this not the one who plunders men with flattery? How then will such a one become such from such a state? How has the laughter-loving and pleasure-loving one appeared tear-loving and grief-loving? How has the foolish one, untimely in form and glance and bearing and in her elaborate gait, and in all her limbs betrothing all to death, come to this chaste form and

Has the matter changed? O unexpected transformation! O strange alteration! The servants had used such words; but the Pharisee who had invited Jesus, giving birth to blasphemous thoughts in his own soul, said: If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what kind of woman this is who touches him, that she is a sinner. Simply, he says, and as it happened, this man is called a prophet; I too was deceived along with the others, having brought him into my house as an investigator of hidden things. For if he were a prophet, he would clearly know the future. Not knowing what is manifest and evident to all, how then does he understand things hidden from all? How does he endure the hands of a harlot? Why does he not drive away from afar the woman who has nothing inactive in her body? Why does he not abhor the abominable woman, full of every foulness? The Pharisee reviles great philanthropy as ignorance, and he attributes condescension to the name of ignorance, himself being ignorant of what is happening. And Jesus answered and said to him: I have something to say to you. I know what you say without saying anything, I know what you utter while silent, I know what you cry out while keeping quiet, I know what even this woman says to me in her mind, I know how many thoughts you forge against me in your soul. I will recount to you the voices of your thoughts, I will proclaim the blasphemies from you, I will make public the sentiments of your notions, as one sitting among the thoughts of your soul. Thus you say: If he were a prophet, he would know who and what kind of woman this is who touches him, that she is a sinner. These are the words of your mind.

How then could I have discerned the turmoil of the thoughts stirred up in the depth of your mind, unless I were the Creator of all things, God? As you yourself suspect from the answer, know who I am, replying to you who speak nothing; I reveal the words of your soul. If I were a prophet, I would know who and what kind of woman she is; and what need is there of prophetic illumination regarding a face that is known? Do I not know the woman who stands before the marketplace? Do I not know the one manifest to all? Do I not know this woman, for whose sake I came to you? I know who and what kind of woman she is; for nothing escapes the eye of divinity—neither a greedy person nor an evil deed. I know who and what kind of woman she is, and that she is a sinner; and for this reason I rejoice to be detained by her, so that I may reverently and in a manner befitting God save the one who holds me. For I am not defiled by her hands, but I make her clean. For mud does not darken the sun, nor does clay change a pearl; sin does not touch the sinless one. Did I not recently touch a leper, and the affliction fled? Did I become a leper by approaching a leper? So now, working the usual miracles, transforming her to holiness, I am not transformed to her quality by enduring the touch of her intervening hand. For I am a physician; and a physician not of wounds and putrefactions and ichors, but one who works the salvation of those who are sick in soul. I am a creator, and I spare my own creation. I am a master, and I do not suffer the loss of a devoted slave. I am a shepherd, and having found my wandering sheep, I naturally rejoice. I am a harbor, and I receive all who anchor there.

Simon, I have something to say to you. There were two debtors to a certain lender. For now you are placed with this woman; why do you march against her, as though you alone have ascended to the citadel of the virtues? For now you have become accountable to me; why then do you condemn her, as though you alone are unaccountable? You and she are two debtors; the lender is I. I lent to you and to the woman the present life. One owed five hundred denarii, the other fifty. She owes five hundred denarii, for she has sinned much; you owe fifty, for you have erred little; yet you are subject to the reckoning of life. When they were unable to repay, I forgave both. I forgave your charges, I also forgive her transgressions; you first enjoyed my presence, let her also enjoy my forgetfulness of wrongs. Did you wish me to appear benevolent toward you, but inhuman toward her? But I do not allow you to be the administrator of my goodness. If you have held such a place, and she yours, would you wish her to say about you what you think about her? Have you not heard, "Do not wish to do what you do not wish to suffer"? For this is the common law of nature. Who then, tell me, will love him more? Simon answered and said, "I suppose the one to whom he forgave more." And the Savior said to him, "You have judged correctly. Therefore abide by what you yourself first judged." And turning to the woman, he says to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I no longer call her a prostitute, who has cast off both the thing and the name.

Do you see this woman, who came in unbidden to us, who is praised for displaying shamelessness, who is loved for practicing impudence, who is the guide of the road leading to me, who is the leader of piety, who is the teacher of repentance, who taught matters by deed, who weeps unceasingly, who is the boldness of sinners, who is the herald of my compassion, who made your house a church, who prays alone to me alone, who sees me as a man and entreats me as God, who kneels before me as a judge without bodyguards or a judicial bench, who worships the one who lies prostrate? Do you see this woman, the untiring one, the worker of good deeds, who weaves for herself the garment of immortality through her locks and her tears, who intercedes through all her limbs on her own behalf, who is insatiable in what she should not have seen, but more insatiable in what is blessed for its excess? Consider what has been done by you, and behold what has been done by her, and you will crown with me the one who has crowned herself. If you do not also marvel at her piety and her labor, blame my compassion. I, Christ, entered your house, I who am above and below and everywhere and here as you see, and I honored you and your house with my presence; and you did not give water under my feet. You did not pour the easy, the simple, the readily available thing under my feet; but she, who is reviled by you, wet my feet with tears, which all the waters and waves of the sea did not wash.

You see a strange irrigation flowing at my feet; you see an extraordinary rain, not borne from the clouds, but born from the woman's eyes. What spring is so abundant in streams as she is in tears? What fountain gushing so many drops is not found wanting? She wetted my feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair, and made her hair a strange towel, and made her locks a marvelous napkin for my feet. You gave me no kiss; you did not deem it worthy to join your lips to my lips; but she, from the moment she entered, did not cease kissing my feet. O the even attendance! O the divine kisses! O the spiritual kisses that made amends for the former embraces. You did not anoint my head with oil; you did not moisten the more honorable part of the body with plain oil; but she anointed my feet with perfumed oil. What then do you think? Shall I turn away from her who brings me such gifts? Shall I shake off the gifts dear to me? Shall I not respect such and so great an affection? Shall I not respect a faith higher than heaven? Shall I overlook such and so many good things? Shall I overlook piteous groans? But I am not of such a nature.

Shall I overlook the streams of her tears? But I cannot. Shall I overlook her tear-stained face? It was for the sake of compassion alone that I took the form of a servant. Shall I deny myself for your sake? Shall I hate one who so genuinely yearns for me? Shall I drive away one who clings so to my feet? Shall I repel a suppliant who has not obtained what she hoped for? Shall I fulfill the devil's purpose? Shall I grant the enemy his prey? Shall I send my dove back to the hawk? Shall I not pity her who says nothing else but only, "Have mercy on me"? Shall I not have mercy on one who has thus fled the devil and taken refuge with me? Why then did I descend from the heavens? Why have I put on this visible body? Why did I enter your house? If I were going to drive away the one who is visible and wishes to be caught, why did I take the place of the hunt? But I did not come to summon the righteous, but sinners to repentance. For this reason I say to you, Her many sins are forgiven, because she loved much. He who loves little will be loved little. Having spoken these things to the Pharisee, Christ imparted to the woman who was prostrate before him a gentle and kind look and word, and leaning slightly toward the one who was hidden and beseeching, he imparted to her the desired decision, containing forgiveness of her sins. Your sins are forgiven. Receive then, O woman, the petition of your tears now granted; receive the recompense of your faith; receive the rewards of your obedience; receive the gifts of your piety; receive the crown of your repentance; receive the sweetest fruit of your bitter groans; receive the sweetest harvest of your gloomy sowing.

You sowed in tears; reap in joy. Your sins are forgiven. The chains of your evil life have been shattered; the fetters of wickedness have been dissolved. You have been released from accusations and liabilities; you have escaped the unquenchable furnace of fire; with few tears you have extinguished so great a flame; you have trampled the head of the evil enemy; you have manifestly conquered the adversary. Take courage, daughter; God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? I, the judge, become the guarantor of your absolution; who else will overturn my verdict? I, the judge, acquit; who else will condemn? Take courage, daughter; consider how suddenly you have been raised up, how you came as one condemned, and were deemed worthy to be freed from condemnation, and to become a daughter of me, the king of the heavens. You came as one wounded to receive medicine, and you put on a royal crown as a queen. You were reborn without a womb; you were remolded without clay; you were recast without fire; you were baptized without a font. You yourself mixed a font from your own tears; my word has become your baptism; my word is the illumination of your face. Take courage, daughter; your faith has saved you. As you believed, you drew forth; as you yearned, you received; as you willed, you reigned. You peered through the body, and you became wholly filled with light. Your faith has saved you. For faith is the beginning of salvation; faith is the prelude to immortality; faith is the pure eye of the knowledge of God; faith beholds the invisible. Your faith has saved you. Would that the Jews had imitated your faith! Would that the Greeks had emulated your mind! Would that all people might learn to believe as you do!

Go in peace. For if you had wished, you would have me always with you and beside you; if you remain thus pure, I will never be separated from your mind; if you keep this purity unstained, I will always remain with you; if you remain a virgin bride, I will be for you a virgin bridegroom, a bridegroom, a guardian of incorruption; if you do not repudiate the dowry concluded between us today, I will not withdraw from your cohabitation; if you do not commit fornication against me, I will not cast you out of my household; if you do not bring an adulterous thought against me, as a heavenly suitor I will also bestow heavenly things upon you; if you keep your conscience toward me unwounded, you will enjoy my goodwill always. Go in peace. Remember this present day, on which you enjoyed freedom; remember these good tears, through which you attained such radiance; remember this repentance, through which you found the dignity of a daughter. Go in peace. I have been reconciled to you, after being long aggrieved with you on your account. Do not dissolve this good peace with evil deeds; do not again wage war against me through your own limbs; do not again braid your hair like Satan; do not whitewash yourself like a wall.

your face. Do not contrive a fussy and ruinous adornment. Do not set your countenance, as in a marketplace, before the merchants of shameful pleasures. Do not send your eyes, like a hunter, after those who willingly are caught. Do not use your lips, like arrows, against those who are gladly wounded. Do not make your mouth a death. Do not condemn your hands to unseemly embraces. Do not condemn your feet to shameful courses. Do not overturn your good course with evil courses. Do not scatter the pearls of chastity, which you have gathered without effort. Do not become again a workshop of corruption. Do not run back to your ancient deceit. Do not take up your former tent again. Do not wickedly rebuild what you have well demolished. Do not receive the serpent as an adviser, lest you be stripped like Eve. Do not abandon the spring of faith to pleasure, lest the many-formed dragon cast its venom against you. Do not sleep the sleep of self-indulgence, lest you stir up my righteous anger against yourself. Do not, after so much myrrh, pour mud upon yourself. Do not become again what you were. Once you have been cleansed, once you have been refined. Remain a newly-wrought statue of temperance, lest you be refined by fire. Go in peace. Announce to those you meet how good and philanthropic I am. Show to those who do not know the one who wiped away your filth. Become henceforth a net of life. Until this present day you hunted the young to perdition; from this present day, fish all people to salvation. Cry out before Paul, as one netted before Paul.

The word is trustworthy and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the first. Let us all emulate her repentance, so that we may acquire equal freedom of speech. Let us undo our injustices, as she undid her hair. Let us shed such tears, that we may receive such remedies. Let us love the Master in such a way, that we may be loved by him in return. Let us also grasp with the hands of faith the one who is gladly grasped, and never abandon him, until he says to us also in very deeds: Your sins are forgiven. Take courage, children; your faith has saved you. And let us inscribe her faith in our minds, sending up glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.