John Chrysostom
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation" (2 Cor 5:17). Up to this point the Apostle drew his exhortations to virtue from love. Now he leads us to it from the consideration of the very deeds themselves. Therefore he adds, "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation." He means that whoever has believed in Him has become another creature, because such a one has been born from above through the Spirit.
"If anyone is in Christ," it says, "he is a new creation" (2 Cor 5:17). What is this new creation? Hear what Christ Himself says: "Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God" (Jn 3:5). Paradise was entrusted to us. But when we proved unworthy to dwell in it, He raises us to the very heavens.
We did not remain faithful in the first gifts, but He imparts still greater ones. We could not abstain from one tree, and He gives us food from above. We did not stand firm in paradise, and He opens the heavens to us. Paul rightly says, "O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God" (Rom 11:33).
Now there is no need of a mother, birth pangs, sleep, cohabitation, or fleshly union. The formation of our nature is now accomplished from above, by the Holy Spirit and water. Water is used as the place of birth for the one being born. What the womb is for an infant, water is for the believer. In water he is conceived and formed.
Formerly it was said, "Let the waters bring forth creeping things, living souls" (Gen 1:20). But from the time the Master descended into the streams of the Jordan, water no longer brings forth "creeping things, living souls," but rational and Spirit-bearing souls.
What was said of the sun, "He comes forth like a bridegroom from his chamber" (Ps 18:6), may now be said more fittingly of the faithful. They send forth rays far brighter than the sun. Yet an infant conceived in the womb requires time. In water it is not so. There everything is accomplished in a single moment.
Where life is temporal and takes its beginning from bodily corruption, birth also proceeds slowly. Such is the nature of bodies. They receive perfection only with the passage of time. But in spiritual things it is not so. Why? Because here what is done is done perfectly from the beginning.
But since Nicodemus, on hearing this, was continually troubled, see how Christ reveals to him the incomprehensibility of this mystery. He makes clear what was obscure to him. Christ says, "That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." He draws Nicodemus away from everything perceptible and does not allow him to examine this mystery with bodily eyes.
"We are not speaking of flesh, Nicodemus, but of spirit." By these words He directs him to the things above. Seek nothing perceptible here. The Spirit cannot be seen with these eyes. Do not think, either, that the Spirit gives birth to flesh.
But how, someone may ask, was the flesh of the Lord born? It was born not from the Spirit alone, but also from flesh. Therefore Paul, showing this, says, "born of a woman, born under the law" (Gal 4:4). The Spirit formed it thus: not out of nothing, for then what need would there have been of a mother's womb? He formed it from virginal flesh. But how, I cannot explain.
This took place so that no one might think that the One born was alien to our nature. If even after this there are people who do not believe in such a birth, into what impiety would they have fallen if Christ had not taken flesh from the Virgin?
"That which is born of the Spirit is spirit." Do you see the dignity of the Spirit? He performs the work of God. Above, the Evangelist said, "they were born of God" (Jn 1:13). Here it is said that the Spirit gives them birth.
"That which is born of the Spirit is spirit." He who is born of the Spirit is spiritual. Here birth is understood not according to essence, but according to dignity and grace. But if the Son also is born in this way, what preeminence will He have over men so born? How then is He the Only-begotten Son?
I too am born of God, but not of His essence. If He also is not born of the essence, how does He differ from us? In that case He would be less even than the Spirit, because such birth comes from the grace of the Spirit. Does He then need the Spirit's cooperation in order to be Son? And how does such a thought differ from Jewish teachings?
But after saying, "That which is born of the Spirit is spirit," Christ again saw that Nicodemus was troubled. Therefore He turns His discourse to an example from things perceptible. "Do not marvel," He says, "that I said to you, You must be born from above. The Spirit breathes where He wills" (Jn 3:7-8). By the words "Do not marvel," He discloses the disturbance in his soul. Then He directs him to the subtlest of bodies.
After saying, "That which is born of the Spirit is spirit," Christ had already drawn Nicodemus away from fleshly notions. But since he still did not understand what His words meant, He transfers his thought to another image. He does not keep him among gross bodies, nor does He speak of beings that are altogether bodiless, since Nicodemus could not understand such matters. He finds something between bodily and bodiless being, the movement of the wind, and through it He instructs him.
It is of the wind that He says, "You hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes." But when He says, "The spirit breathes where it wills," He does not mean that the wind has some free choice. He only points to its natural movement, unimpeded and strong.
Scripture often speaks this way even of inanimate things. For example, "The creation was subjected to futility, not willingly" (Rom 8:20). Thus the words, "it breathes where it wills," mean that the wind cannot be restrained. It spreads everywhere. No one can prevent it from moving here and there. It is dispersed with great force, and no one can hold back its rush.
A strong desire to sow seeds arises in the farmer when he sees the field cleared and free from weeds that harm the growth of the crop, and from stones that hinder the work of the plow. A still stronger feeling is experienced by one who comes to sow the word, when he sees his hearers fully ready to listen to the word.
I too see the field cleared, and no trace of weeds upon it. Here the weed would be concern for riches, which chokes the word. I say this not because there are no rich people here, but to show what advantage the poor have for hearing the word.
The matter does not depend on the preacher alone. An intelligent hearer is also necessary. Scripture requires both: a wise teacher and an intelligent hearer, so that our labor may not prove useless through the indifference of the listeners. Concern for riches does not allow the word to enter the soul, but distracts the hearers' attention.
Now, when I see you all fully prepared to listen, though of course your secret thoughts are unknown to me, I observe the eyes of each of you. I see your eyelids raised like horns. I notice your fixed gaze, which bears witness to the strain of your attention. From this I conclude that you are all free from worldly cares, and that each of you is waiting and thinking only how to catch the word.
Concentrate all your attention. Open the depths of your soul, so that the seeds may be cast into it more easily.
I wish to dedicate my tongue for a long time to the table of Paul. I shall not cease to call him this: the simple man, the unlearned man, the man of no family, the tentmaker. This is my advantage. This is my boast, that I have such teachers, shining not with worldly distinctions, but with spiritual perfection.
If a Greek asks me, "What teacher do you have?" I shall name him, the tentmaker. "And who else?" "A fisherman." "And who else?" "A tax collector." "And then who?" "Magi and a harlot." "And still who?" "A robber. And I am not only unashamed, but even boast of this."
"You boast that your teacher is a simple man?" Yes, exceedingly. Why? If the simplicity of the disciple shows the power of the teacher, the simplicity of the teacher bears witness to the divine character of the teaching. If men proclaimed it, men did not reveal it. If men sowed it, men did not bring it forth.
Men are only instruments, while the craftsman is God. They are the lyre, whose strings His mighty hand sets in motion. Therefore that prophet also, though he was a king clothed in purple and adorned with a crown, when directing his speech to the whole world, set aside his usual worldly condition. Lest anyone consider his words merely the words of a king, he said, "My heart has poured forth a good word; I speak my work to the King. My tongue is the pen of a swift scribe" (Ps 44:2).
Why do you call your tongue a pen? So that you may know that it is not I who write, but the hand that possesses me. The pen does not write of itself, but what the hand guiding it wills. My tongue is a pen, and the Holy Spirit directs it.
Therefore, when a Greek asks you, "Who is your teacher?" do not be ashamed or blush. Answer, "A simple man, a tentmaker, standing in the marketplace and stitching leather." "And who is your teacher?" "Plato, Pythagoras, not simple men, but philosophers."
But if I say, "Who is your teacher? A philosopher. Your teacher is of noble birth. Your teacher is wealthy. Your teacher has a refined tongue. He surpasses rivers with the abundance of his speech. He is adorned with honors, has famous ancestors, and is honored everywhere. My teacher, in his qualities, is the complete opposite." Then it becomes clear on whose side the victory lies.
How so? The simple man defeated the philosopher, the poor man the rich, the tongue-tied man the eloquent, the scourged man the one who suffered nothing. A succession of opposites increases the splendor of the victory. My teacher speaks incorrectly. Yours possesses exemplary speech. But the one who spoke incorrectly defeated the one who spoke correctly.
In language he has a defect, but in thought he possesses true philosophy. I do not need words. Thoughts matter to me. My teacher defeated yours. How? Did the simple man defeat the wise, the unlearned man the orator? From where is it clear that he defeated him?
Shameless man, do you not see that the facts cry this aloud? Where is Plato? Nowhere. Where is Paul? His name is on everyone's lips. Where is Plato? He is not even heard of. He has been handed over to forgetfulness.
Where is Paul? He has mastered royal Rome. There he had power not only during his life, but after death he won the victory. He died in body in order to live in spirit. The paper has decayed, but the writing remains, because it was not written with ink, but confirmed by the Spirit.
The sun will suffer loss, but Paul's words will not. What, indeed, does He who gave him these very words say? "Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away" (Mt 24:35). If these are merely words, refute them. But if the word has become deed, bow down.
"Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away." The sun will sooner be extinguished and heaven vanish than the words of my Master be broken. They are confirmed by events in experience, by the length of time, and by the attacks of enemies.
It is truly marvelous that what the Savior proclaimed was not only not destroyed, but succeeded despite the efforts of enemies. Follow carefully what I say. Paul preached. John preached, the fisherman and Evangelist, who cast aside the nets and took up the Gospel. He left the fisherman's hook and received the Teacher's word.
What did the fisherman preach and say? Let us see whether I can catch the words of the fisherman, and yet not of a fisherman. On one side they are the fisherman's words, because his mouth uttered them. On the other side they are not a fisherman's words, because they are the words of the Spirit.