John Chrysostom
After unequivocally condemning the Pharisees and establishing that their sins were irredeemable—not a consequence of the Master's shortcomings but rather their own malevolence—Jesus cited the Ninevites and the queen from the South as examples to emphasize His point. He proceeded to discuss the severe consequences awaiting them, speaking privately, yet in a manner intended to instill deep fear within them. Through His discourse, Christ indicated that the Pharisees would face significant retribution, both in this life and in the next. Previously, He had asserted, “The men of Nineveh shall rise up in judgment, and shall condemn this generation.” Upon hearing this, the Pharisees may have presumed that judgment was not imminent, possibly leading to their increased negligence. To combat this laxity, the Saviour unveiled the dire future calamities that would befall them even before the age to come. The prophet Hosea similarly warned them of forthcoming disasters, stating, “They will be like the prophet of astonishment, a man carried by the spirit,” referencing false prophets incited by malevolent spirits. The Savior pointed to this horrific fate, indicating they would endure severe penalties.
Observe how He strives to engage them, urging them to heed His words by drawing their attention to both present realities and future outcomes, the commendable actions of the Ninevites and the queen, alongside the grim fates of the Tyrians and Sodomites. The prophets utilized similar examples, referring to the sons of Rehoboam or the bride who forgets her adornments. Jesus, by contrasting the severity of the Pharisees' wickedness with others, also addressed their judgement. What is the implication of His message? He warned that if the demon-possessed cast off their afflictions but afterward neglect self-care, they invite upon themselves even harsher spirits. This mirrors the condition of the Pharisees. In the past, they were ensnared by idolatry and engaged in heinous acts, even sacrificing their children to demons, revealing a deep-seated malice. Nevertheless, I did not abandon you: through the prophets, I expelled that demon from you and later came personally to purify you further. But if, after such mercy, you disregard Me and commit a greater transgression—slaying the Lord Himself is profoundly graver than harming the prophets—then your punishment will far exceed the sufferings of your ancestors in Babylon and Egypt, or under Antiochus. Indeed, the afflictions that befell the Jews during Vespasian and Titus were far more severe than those prior. Thus, the Lord proclaimed, “There shall be great tribulation, such as never was nor shall be.”
Additionally, this peril revealed itself not only through the example of the demon-possessed but also in their complete estrangement from virtue, which would render them even more susceptible to the influences of evil than before. While they previously transgressed, a remnant of righteousness and the grace of the Holy Spirit remained among them, guiding and correcting them. Now, devoid of divine providence, they would experience utter destitution of virtue and overwhelming turmoil, allowing demons to reign over them. You are aware of how, even today, many among us emulate the actions of those during the days of Julian, who surpassed all in wickedness, as the Jews mingled with the Greeks, eagerly embracing their customs. Presently, they may appear somewhat subdued, but this is merely due to fear of authority; absent this fear, they would indulge even more violently, their transgressions exceed those of their forebears as they practice sorcery and magic with fervor, unrestrained in their pursuit of desires. In public life, despite their constraints, how many times have they risen in rebellion against kings? Such actions have brought upon them grievous misfortunes.
Where are those now seeking signs? Let them understand that what they most desperately need is a heart attuned to righteousness. Without it, signs hold no value. The Ninevites believed without signs, yet the Jews, who witnessed countless miracles, worsened their state, turning into dwellings for innumerable demons and inviting upon themselves myriad troubles. According to the judgment of truth, those liberated from evil who do not exercise caution will face punishments far heavier than before. This is why the Saviour proclaimed, “He shall not find rest,” indicating that the accusations from demons will inevitably fall upon those who fail to utilize their deliverance. There are two reasons such individuals should exercise prudence: first, to consider the weight of their previous afflictions; second, to appreciate the value of their redemption. A third reason consists of the warnings that instill fear of even greater calamities ahead.
Yet the Jews remained unmoved by these motivations, failing to improve. Importantly, what applies here to the Jews also pertains to all of us: if we, having been enlightened and liberated from past evils, again cling to former vices, we shall be punished more severely for our sins committed after enlightenment. This is precisely why Christ admonished the paralyzed man, “Be well, therefore sin not, lest anything be worse for you.” And this message was conveyed to a man who lay sick for thirty-eight years. You may ask: what could be worse than this? A punishment far more severe and distressing could await him. God forbid that we should face all the sufferings we may endure! The Lord has numerous ways to chastise us: for among His many mercies is also His wrath.
This is why He particularly reproaches Jerusalem, which had been graced with His forgiveness. Through the prophet Ezekiel, He expressed, “I saw you mixed in blood, and washed you, and anointed you, and you were named for your goodness: and you have fornicated with your neighbors.” Consequently, He warns the sinful city of dire penalties. As we reflect on this, we must contemplate not only punishment but also the boundless patience of God. Indeed, how many times have we succumbed to the same sins, yet He continues to be patient with us! Let us not grow complacent; rather, we should cultivate a spirit of fear.
If Pharaoh had heeded God's initial judgments, he would not have endured subsequent punishments, nor would he have experienced downfall alongside his entire army. I mention this because I am aware of many who, like Pharaoh, declare, “I know not God,” and refuse to alleviate the burden of their subjects. God commands even the harshest threats to engender mercy; nevertheless, how many among us fail to reduce the burdens of others? Because of this, they face their own fate: not to cross the Red Sea, but a far more dreadful sea of fire—vast and fierce, where the flames consume. There lies an abyss ablaze with intensifying flames, swarming with a fierce fire as devastating as a ferocious beast. If the material fire from the Chaldean furnace could harm those outside it, how much greater the effect of hellfire on those who fall into it?
Listen to the prophets regarding the day of judgment: “The day of the Lord is an unhealing day, full of fury and wrath.” In that moment, no advocate or savior will be present; you will behold the mild and gentle face of Christ. Just as convicts in mines labor under the watch of merciless tormentors, unable to see family or friends—only their keepers—so shall it be, but many times worse. Here, one might still implore a king for mercy, and find the chains of their condemnation loosened; yet there, no release is possible. No soul escapes hell, as its prisoners burn eternally, suffering torment beyond description. If our language fails to articulate the agonies of those engulfed in flames, how much less can we comprehend the afflictions of those tormented there? Here, at least, suffering concludes within moments, but there, the scorched spirit endures forever without cessation.
What shall we do should we arrive at that place? I voice this concern for myself. If any might say, “Teacher, you speak this of yourself; therefore, my own concerns are inconsequential,” I caution against such complacency. Do not entertain the illusion that there is comfort in shared suffering. We must not take solace in the fate of the wretched; yet think of the devil, a corporeal entity and superior to mankind: does one gain comfort in sharing his torment? No. Likewise, consider the Egyptians who witnessed their rulers being executed, their lamentations echoing through every household; could this sight afford them reprieve? Absolutely not, which is apparent in their reaction when driven by anguish to compel their king to release the Israelites from servitude.
How absurd it is to equate collective suffering with a form of consolation! Imagine attempting to comfort someone enduring intense pain by pointing out that others experience it more severely; they cannot grasp your words, for their anguish engulfs their thoughts, rendering them incapable of acknowledging others. Let us not indulge in such fallacies that disguise stark realities. Comfort can only spring from the sufferings of another when one's trials are tolerable; but when torment escalates beyond the bounds of endurance, where might solace be found? Thus, such assertions become the idle chatter of thoughtless children.
Genuine comfort exists only amidst minor distress, allowing us to find relief in knowing that we are not alone in our suffering—a consolation that falters even in manageable pain and is utterly futile amidst indescribable suffering. As it pains me to deliver these grave reflections, recognize I do so not out of malice but concern. Would that I could speak of nothing but virtue within myself and among you all. Yet, when faced with the reality that so many dwell in transgression, I pray to inspire in you a true sorrow and reach into the depths of your hearts. Peace will come when I need not speak of such matters, but today I fear some may disregard my warnings, incurring even greater chastisement.
If a servant neglects his master's admonitions, surely the angered master will not let the matter rest, but punish him severely. Therefore, let us be contrite when we hear of Gehenna. This conversation is invaluable, for nothing holds more bitterness than Gehenna itself. How can a discussion revolving around hell be deemed gentle? The descent into Gehenna is bitter indeed, for reminders of it—though seemingly harsh—can shield us from this fate. Such reflections not only provide protection but also cultivate our spirit toward sobriety, fostering reverence, elevating our minds to grief, and combating the vicious temptations surrounding us, ultimately healing our souls.
Having reminded you of the coming chastisement, I must also address the disgrace that waits us: as the Ninevites will rise up to condemn the Jews on the day of judgment, we, too, shall find ourselves judged by many whom we may now regard with disdain. We must contemplate the ridicule we shall face and the condemnation that shall be ours. With this in mind, let us embark upon a journey of repentance now, initiating change. I speak this not to cast judgment on anyone but as a collective exhortation. Must we continue to indulge in comforts? For how long shall we succumb to idleness? Have we not lingered long enough in carelessness, postponing our transformation? Shall we repeat the cycle of lavish feasting, indulgence, and insatiable greed? But what shall be the outcome? Death. And what fate awaits? Dust and ashes, a coffin and worms.