John Chrysostom
If the message is stifled, the issue lies not with the thorns but with those who permitted their growth. It is indeed feasible, if one desires, to eradicate this useless weed and to utilize resources as intended. Therefore, Christ did not speak of the world itself but referred to "the cares of this world;" He did not mention wealth, but rather "the deceitfulness of riches." Consequently, we should not condemn the possessions themselves, but the depraved will. It is possible to possess riches without being lured by them, and to live in this present age without being burdened by its concerns. Wealth encompasses two conflicting dangers: one is overwhelming, which is anxiety; the other is indulgent, which is excess.
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The Savior aptly described riches as "the deceitfulness of riches," for all that wealth offers is mere illusion—labels that lack substance. Indeed, pleasure, fame, splendor, and similar pursuits are but shadows, devoid of true essence. After discussing various forms of destruction, He concludes with the notion of fertile soil, not to incite despair, but to instill hope for repentance and indicate that one can transition from barren ground and thorns to fertile land. Yet, if the soil is good, and the sower remains unchanged, while the seeds are constant, why then does one seed yield a hundredfold, another sixty, and another thirty? This variance arises from the condition of the soil, for even within fruitful ground, numerous distinctions can manifest. Clearly, it is not the sower or the seed that is at fault, but rather the receptive soil. This discrepancy does not stem from human nature but from individual will. Herein lies the profound mercy of God, for He does not require uniformity in virtue; He welcomes the first, does not dismiss the second, and acknowledges the third. He conveys this so His disciples might not assume that merely hearing is adequate for salvation. You might wonder why He did not address other sins such as lust or pride. By referring to "the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches," He encompassed all, for vanity and various other vices emerge from this age and the allure of wealth—these include pleasure, greed, jealousy, and arrogance, among others. He mentions the path and the rock to illustrate that it is insufficient to merely renounce the love of riches; one must also cultivate other virtues. What advantage is there in abstaining from wealth yet being soft and spoiled? What gain is there in not being indulged, but being neglectful towards the Word? Just having virtue alone does not grant salvation; it is imperative first to listen attentively to the Word and continually remember it; next, one must exhibit courage; then, one must disdain riches, and ultimately maintain indifference towards worldly things. Thus, He places hearing the Word above all else, for it is essential. "How shall they believe," as Paul wrote, "if they do not hear?" (Rom. 10:14). Hence, if we ignore the Word, we have no means to understand what we ought to undertake. He also speaks of bravery and the renunciation of present delights. Understanding this, we must guard against all distractions, heed the Word, deeply embed it in our hearts, and cleanse ourselves from worldly matters. If we excel in one area while neglecting another, it will avail us nothing: in any case, we shall face destruction. What difference is there if we perish through wealth or through negligence, or even if not being neglectful, we succumb to indulgence? The farmer grieves nonetheless, regardless of how he destroys the seed. Let us not be satisfied with not perishing in every regard but mourn for any form of our demise, and let us uproot the thorns, for they stifle the Word. This is evident to the wealthy, who are not only incapable of this recognition but of many other noble things. Enslaved by desires, they struggle with earthly matters. If they cannot handle such affairs, they are even less equipped for heavenly pursuits. Two afflictions plague their minds: indulgence and anxiety. Each is sufficient alone to cause great ruin; consider the chaos when both are combined! Hence, do not be astonished that Christ likened luxury to thorns. Those enmeshed in passion may be unaware; however, those free from it understand that luxury inflicts greater pain than thorns, draining the soul more than anxiety and leading to both physical and spiritual woes. It is not so much anxiety that torments, rather it is excess. When the sated endure insomnia, headaches, lethargy, and digestive distress, one can only imagine the greater discomforts than mere thorns! Just as thorns, regardless of how approached, cause harm, so too does excess inflict severe wounds upon the entirety of our being. It is as lifeless and barren as thorns, yet far more destructive, affecting the most vital aspects of life. This leads to early decay, numbs the senses, clouds reason, blinds discernment, saturates the body, invites diseases, and results in constant burdens and excessive weight—ultimately leading to frequent falls and disasters. For what reason do you harm the body? Are we to offer you as a sacrifice? Or serve you as a meal? It is better to refrain from overindulging, for when they become lethargic, consuming them does not benefit us. Such is the peril of excess: it harms even the voiceless. By fattening them, we render them useless both for themselves and for us, leading to unhealthy consequences. Conversely, animals that fast and maintain a balanced diet through hard labor are beneficial both to themselves and to others, providing sustenance and fulfilling other needs. Those who consume them are healthier; however, those who feast upon the fat animals become like them—lazy, ailing, and burdened by grave limitations. There is nothing more abhorrent and detrimental to the body than excess; nothing destroys, weighs down, and ruins it more than immoderate indulgence. Thus, one must marvel at those who recklessly gorge themselves, failing even to preserve their own well-being as others might care for their tools. Vintners manage their equipment with due care, ensuring it does not burst; yet they neglect their own bodies, overstuffing them with food and drowning them in wine, thereby constricting the very life-force that animates them. Is the throat meant merely for excess in gluttony, rather than to offer praise to God, to present sacred prayers, and to share wisdom with neighbors? Yet you act as if you received your voice only for excess, dedicating no time to divine endeavors, misusing it throughout your life for disgraceful purposes. Such individuals resemble someone who, instead of playing a well-tuned harp to produce melodious sounds, covers it with refuse. I do not equate refuse with food, but rather with excess and any form of immoderation, for what is excessive does not nourish but harms. While the stomach is designed for consumption, the mouth, throat, and tongue serve additional, more vital purposes; or better yet, the stomach exists not solely for eating, but for moderate intake. It protests against us when we injure it through excess and not only protests, but in retaliation, delivers severe punishment. Its wrath first afflicts the feet that lead us to lavish banquets, then it restrains the hands that have served it indulgently. It has also harmed many by injuring their mouths, eyes, and heads. Like a slave overloaded beyond strength inciting the wrath of a master, so too does an abused stomach, all too often, harm the very intellect. Hence God has wisely structured life, allowing immoderation to carry dire consequences, so that if one does not wish to act wisely out of a sense of duty, they might learn moderation through fear and pain. Thus, knowing this, let us flee from excess and embrace moderation, that we may preserve our physical health and, by freeing our souls from all afflictions, attain eternal blessings through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.