Mateus 14
Peter Chrysologus · Comentário Patrístico (catena)
Mateus 14:4
John aroused Herod by his moral admonitions, not by any formal accusation. He wanted to correct, not to suppress. Herod, however, preferred to suppress rather than be reconciled. To those who are held captive, the freedom of the one innocent of wrongdoing becomes hateful. Virtue is undesirable to those who are immoral; holiness is abhorrent to those who are impious; chastity is an enemy to those who are impure; integrity is a hardship for those who are corrupt; frugality runs counter to those who are self-indulgent; mercy is intolerable to those who are cruel, as is loving-kindness to those who are pitiless and justice to those who are unjust. The Evangelist indicates this when he says, "John said to him, 'It is not lawful for you to have the wife of your brother Philip.' " This is where John runs into trouble. He who admonishes those who are evil gives offense. He who repudiates wrongdoers runs into trouble. John was saying what was proper of the law, what was proper of justice, what was proper of salvation and what was proper certainly not of hatred but of love. And look at the reward he received from the ungodly for his loving concern! — SERMONS 127.6-7
Mateus 14:5
"And though he wanted to put him to death, he feared the people." That person readily turns away from justice who, in matters at issue, fears not God but people. Such fear can restrain the power to sin but is unable to remove the will to sin. Hence, those whom it has restrained from crime, it makes all the more eager to return to crime. It is only the fear of God that can set minds straight, repel criminal actions, preserve innocence and give steadfast power. But let us focus on the passionate intensity of blessed John. — SERMONS 127.7
Mateus 14:6
You have heard, brothers, that sensual pleasure may give birth to great cruelty. "And his head was brought on a platter."The house is converted into an arena, the table changes into a stall at the amphitheater, the birthday guests turn into spectators, the feast grows into a furor, the food ripens into carnage, the wine transforms into blood, the birthday changes into a funeral, sunrise evolves into sunset, the banquet is altered into a bloody killing, and musical instruments perform the tragedy of the ages. A creature enters the room, not a girl; a lynx, not a maiden, moves to the music. She has the mane of an animal, not hair, sprouting up from the crown of her head. She spreads out her limbs with twists and turns; she steadily grows in ferocity. She becomes cunning in cruelty, not in body. And this extraordinarily wild animal lets out a growl. She gnashes her teeth. She does not take up a sword but produces one. "Prompted by her mother," the Evangelist says, and taking an arrow from her mother's heart, this uncanny creature, with contempt for the prize of John's body, slithers through the hall to have his head cut off. — SERMONS 127.9