Homilia in caecum natum

Severian, bishop of Gabala, on the man blind from birth. To the kings of the earth, one contributes service as an owner of land, another as one who deals in silver, another as one engaged in the trade of lead and copper, another as one who makes money from fruit, and in general the fulfillment of service comes from each person’s possessions. Since such a service of words is owed also to the king of all, one contributes a more abundant service of speech as an owner of wisdom, another as a merchant of lesser eloquence, another as one who carries around five words in his mind. For each person, being a debtor of speech, makes his contribution from what he has. This emboldens me to speak, because even a poor man is acceptable to the Creator for contribution. For he does not demand the service of words in order to be enriched, but in order to bestow rewards in return for what he has given. For no one could offer to God a thank-offering so great that it is equal to what has been given. For if you were to give something, you would receive a return for it; you would bring gifts of money, but all the wealth of possession is his. If you praise the benefactor, you would bring something, yet from your praises there is benefit to the Father of glory. If you accept death for his sake, even in suffering this you have provided for yourself, not for him, the freedom of death. Therefore, it remains to cry out with the prophet by nature: “What shall I repay to the Lord for all that he has repaid to me?

Yet even if the service is a single word, the love of God in what is spoken will fasten a bountiful offering, acceptable to the master, of speeches and words. The blind man smeared with clay, having served God with words not composed from Attic eloquence but from a pious mind, became renowned in the Gospels, honored as a witness in a court. For he displayed the valor of a fervent witness on behalf of Christ: dragged into judgment and not intimidated, surrounded by dangers and emboldened, assailed by threats and, though they began with shouts, not changing, boiling against fiery judges, pushed into silence and sharpened, unraveling the knots of questioning inquiries, meeting them with well-aimed answers, having the position of one being judged but the boldness of one judging, judging the judges more than being judged by them, he entered into the first examination and emerged victorious from the judgment against them. A second exercise of victory, and again with witnesses, the blind man’s triumph was provided by the opponents themselves, who supplied the witnesses for the blind man’s case. For they summoned, it says, the parents of the one who had regained sight and questioned them, saying, “Is this your son?” They called the parents into doubt, presenting the child for deception as if on ambiguous terms; they set forth a deliberation so that the blind man’s parents, enticed, would give their answer more slowly, observing a form they might misrecognize. This became for them a pretext for objection, as if parents would not have needed deliberation over their son, but would have given a swift answer immediately. What follows this is even more wicked.

This is your son,” he says, “whom you say was born blind.” The phrase is spoken with that very word: they discredit the testimony of the parents beforehand, as though they, having given birth, were claiming the child was born blind when he was not truly so. O Pharisees, what benefit is there to those who did not give birth to a blind child in fabricating the birth of a blind child? Or what profit is there to the one not born blind in trumpeting the recovery of sight from blindness? But let the miracle be suspected nonetheless; let the witnesses be maliciously scrutinized; let the matter be examined with even greater artifice, so that, with the truth fully established, the test may run through all things. What then are the voices of the witnesses against the craft aimed at profit? For since the judges were inquiring as if in doubt, “Is this your son, whom you say was born blind?” they respond with unambiguous knowledge: “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind; but how he now sees, we do not know. He is of age; ask him; he will speak for himself.” O the parents and the child, dividing the case for Christ between themselves! For the parents confessed the affliction, while the one born cried out the healing. Narrow on all sides for envy; a net without closure for the Pharisees in refutations; fear on both sides. They clung to hidden thoughts; they held a council within themselves from both sides: “We are caught from two sides; we are taken. The affliction was testified; the recovery of sight is evident. Must we either believe what is said or be laughed at for fighting against what is seen? What then? Let us agree with the fact of the miracle, but let us change the worker of the miracle, inserting the name of God.

Let us speak to the blind man, lowering ourselves to make a clear demonstration without falsehood: we acknowledge with you the recovery of sight, we do not accuse you of lying. For the rest, we advise you of one thing that is to your benefit: do not attribute what has happened to this man, but give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner. They flatter the faithful man to act impiously toward a pious person. Spare the Sabbath as well, you blind men, and do not quickly forget, as this man has, the regard for it. For those who a short while ago were the guardians of the Sabbath, who cried out against the healer on this account, “This man is not from God, because he does not observe the Sabbath,” now by their decision they abolish it. They judge the abolition worthy of the divine and of divine glory. You call out: for the honor of the Sabbaths does not come from us. First, you rouse the blind man to revile the Sabbaths; for you teach him to cry out to God: “Glory to you who overturned the observance of the Sabbaths, who showed that working with clay is more useful than idleness in this matter. If the Sabbath had remained unbroken, I would have been bound in blindness. But if the divinity had long ago stood by, abolishing the Sabbath, I would have long ago seen the ray of light.” You urge the blind man to say these things, advising him to glorify God. But if one were to grant that the worker of the miracle is a sinner, not only is it an insult to the Sabbath, because it is reasonable for a sinner to abolish it, but they also dishonored the Sabbath unintentionally and did not achieve their purpose; for they did not persuade the blind man, but like a teacher of children, they corrected the mistaken syllables of his words.

Now, the first statement, "Give glory to God," he accepted as needing no correction. Then, seizing upon the last utterance, he wove a syllogism from what he had heard. For the Pharisees had said to him, "We know that this man is a sinner." Taking hold of their phrase "we know," he shifts the argument from it: "If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I know: that being blind, I now see." Since he claims to know the physician, he insists [...]. "From what we both know, let us judge; let us give each other tokens of what we say. You call this man a sinner. If you provide the proofs, I am convinced. But I proclaim this man just and savior, showing my eyes; and you judge. I do not plead for him with words; I do not proclaim the physician with my tongue; closing my mouth, I converse with my eyes. I say to you: how did he, uninvited, stand by a beggar? I do not proclaim the grace that came without entreaty; I do not parade the strangeness of the clay-working; I do not recount the cohabitation of the affliction within me; I do not now bring to mind Siloam, the clay mixed by this man for the blind man's recovery of sight; I do not publicize the unboastful healing; I do not declaim how, after sending me to Siloam, he did not remain, so that I might return seeing and worship him. Passing over all lengthy speech, I utter a concise reply: I say nothing else but cry out emphatically, 'Being blind, I now see.' There is a hidden force in the proofs. For this is the meaning of the words: he says, 'I see.' Now no witnesses are needed. That I was born blind, you have accepted witnesses. This suffices for me against you, Pharisees. O what great justification in such brevity!

But indeed, the blind man renders even us talkative, and weaving arguments from arguments, he sweeps us along into further discourse. Let us change the course of our speech; let us draw back the reins of our tongue. Let us join with the blind man in gratitude; let us share in his steadfastness for the truth. Let us philosophize with contests worthy of God; let us align ourselves with pious struggles. Let us display timely frankness. Let the whole world, having looked up from the blindness of the soul, cry out to those who call Christ dead: "If he is dead, I do not know; one thing I know—that, being blind, I now see." For to him is the glory for all ages. Amen.