Mt 3:13. “Whose winnowing fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his threshing floor, and will gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
The winnowing fan, or threshing shovel, is the instrument by which grain is tossed into the air and cleansed of dust and chaff. Here it signifies the judicial power of Christ, by which he will separate the good from the evil on the final day of judgment. The threshing floor is the visible Church. The wheat represents the elect, weighty and solid with virtues, steadfast in piety, perseverance, and constancy. The chaff signifies the reprobate, who belong to the Church in number but not in merit—members indeed by outward profession of religion, but inwardly empty, barren of virtue, and devoid of the marrow of justice.
Christ, therefore, who already begins to purify his faithful and elect through faith, as though by a winnowing fan, and to separate them from unbelievers, will on that decisive day of judgment complete this purification, utterly separating them from the reprobate. He will gather the elect like chosen wheat into his barn, that is, into the Kingdom of Heaven; but the reprobate, like useless chaff, he will burn with a fire that can never be extinguished—not only eternal in duration, but an eternal burning. For in hell, as the Wise Man says, the fire burns the members and yet restores them, tortures and yet sustains them, just as lightning fires strike bodies without consuming them, or as the fires of Etna, Vesuvius, and burning lands everywhere blaze without being exhausted. Thus that penal fire is not fed by the destruction of those who burn, but is nourished by the tearing of their bodies.
Saint Hilary explains this passage briefly and clearly: “The task of the winnowing fan,” he says, “is to separate the fruitful from the unfruitful. That it is in the hand of the Lord indicates the authority of his power—gathering his wheat, that is, the perfected fruits of believers, into his barns, and burning the chaff, that is, the emptiness of useless and unfruitful men, with the fire of judgment.” Saint Ambrose agrees with Saint Hilary in this interpretation.
Mt 3:14. “Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him.”
Christ did not come to baptism out of necessity, but in order to give testimony and authority to John’s baptism, to sanctify baptism for us, and to draw us to receive his own baptism—since he himself did not disdain to receive the baptism of a servant. He also came so that, as the crowds flocked to John, testimony concerning Christ might be given from heaven.
Mt 3:15. But John tried to prevent him, saying: “I ought to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” I ought to be baptized by you in the Holy Spirit, and yet you, Lord, come to your servant; the spotless Lamb comes to the sinner.
Jesus answered him: “Allow it now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” Although this was not necessary for me, it is nevertheless fitting for my ministry and for the holiness and perfection whose rule and example I have come into the world to give—so that I may carry out everything that accords with virtue, is pleasing to God, and is useful for instructing and stirring human beings to piety. “All righteousness” means perfect righteousness. Thus the Apostle calls “all faith” faith that is complete, entire, and perfect; and thus Saint James calls “all joy” perfect joy.
“What is righteousness,” asks Saint Ambrose, “if not that what you wish another to do, you yourself begin first, and exhort others by your own example? What is righteousness, if not that he who took on flesh did not, as God, exclude the experience or service of the flesh, but as man conquered the flesh, in order to teach me to conquer?” For he taught me how I might bury the filth of a flesh hardened by earthly vices, renew it by virtues, and overcome sin itself through the humility of the Lord. The lower the humility, the more divine the providence shines forth. God is revealed by the bitterness of his injuries and proved God by the use of remedies—he who himself needed no remedies.
For what is so divine for drawing peoples as this: that no one should shrink from the laver of grace, when Christ did not shrink from the laver of repentance? Let no one say he is exempt from sin, when Christ came for the remedy of sinners. If Christ washed for us—indeed, if he washed us in his own body—how much more ought we to wash away our own sins? By what greater work, by what greater mystery, is God—though God in all things—proved, than by this: that in one moment, in one body, throughout the whole world, God abolished the fraud of ancient error and poured out the grace of the heavenly kingdom? One descended and raised all; one descended so that all might ascend; one took upon himself the sins of all, so that in him the sins of all might die.
“Purify yourselves,” therefore, as the Apostle says, “because he purified himself for us who had no need of purification.”
Saint Hilary explains the same passage clearly and elegantly. “He himself,” he says, “had no need of the laver, because of him it is written: ‘He committed no sin’; and where there is no sin, remission is idle. But the body of our creation had been assumed by him, and thus it was not he who had a need of washing, but through him the cleansing of our washing was to be sanctified. Finally, he is forbidden by John to be baptized as God, and thus he teaches that this must be done in himself as man. For through him all righteousness was to be fulfilled, through whom alone the Law could be fulfilled. And thus, though he has no need of the laver by prophetic testimony, by the authority of his example he completes the sacraments of human salvation—sanctifying humanity both by assumption and by washing.”
Mt 3:16. “And when Jesus had been baptized, he immediately went up from the water.”
For he had descended into the water, says Saint Gregory Nazianzen, in order to bury the whole old Adam in the waters, and so that by contact with his sacred body the waters, once sanctified, might drink in the power of sanctification, as Tertullian expresses it.
“And behold, the heavens were opened to him”—that is, to Christ, opened on his account—either truly and in reality, as Saint Chrysostom holds, or in appearance and vision alone, as Saint Jerome thinks. “And he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming upon him.”
This was not an assumed creature in the same way that flesh and human form were assumed from the Virgin Mary. The Holy Spirit did not deify the dove, nor unite it to himself and his person in eternal unity and subsistence. Rather, the dove appeared as a creature suitably appearing—creation serving the Creator, and at his command remaining unchangeable in itself—so as to signify and manifest what needed to be signified and manifested. Therefore, although that dove is called the Spirit, to show that the Holy Spirit was manifested through the dove, just as he was manifested through tongues of fire when he descended upon the Apostles at Pentecost, we cannot say that the Holy Spirit is God and dove, or God and fire, as we say that the Son is God and man; nor can we speak of the Spirit as dove or fire in the way Scripture says, “The rock was Christ.”
That rock already existed in creation and was named after Christ whom it signified. But the dove and the fire suddenly came into existence to signify the Holy Spirit. Thus Saint Augustine teaches. The dove, therefore, was a real dove, not a mere appearance of a dove. “We do not say this,” the same holy Doctor says elsewhere, “so as to claim that the Lord Jesus Christ had only a true body, but that the Holy Spirit appeared deceitfully to human eyes. Rather, both bodies are to be believed true bodies.” For just as it was not fitting that the Son of God should deceive human beings, so neither was it fitting that the Holy Spirit should deceive them. And for the omnipotent God, who made all things from nothing, it was no more difficult to fashion a true body of a dove than it was to form a true human body in the womb of Mary without male seed—since bodily nature and the organs of the woman served the Lord’s command and will both to form a man in the world and to form a dove.
Saint Thomas Aquinas observes four reasons why the Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove over Christ at his baptism. First, to signify the disposition required of those to be baptized: that they come without deceit, since “the Holy Spirit will flee from the deceitful” (Wisdom 1:5). The dove is a simple animal, free from cunning and guile; hence Matthew 10 says, “Be simple as doves.”
Second, to designate the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, symbolized by the properties of the dove. The dove dwells near running waters, so that when it sees a hawk it plunges into them and escapes—signifying the gift of wisdom, by which the saints dwell near the streams of divine Scripture to escape the assaults of the devil. The dove chooses the better grains—signifying the gift of knowledge, by which the saints choose sound teachings on which they are nourished. The dove nourishes the young of others—signifying the gift of counsel, by which the saints nourish with doctrine and example those who were once offspring, that is, imitators of the devil. The dove does not tear with its beak—signifying the gift of understanding, by which the saints do not tear apart good teachings as heretics do. The dove lacks gall—signifying the gift of piety, by which the saints are free from irrational anger. The dove nests in the clefts of the rock—signifying the gift of fortitude, by which the saints place their refuge and hope in the wounds of Christ, the firm rock. The dove has groaning instead of song—signifying the gift of fear, by which the saints delight in mourning for sins.
Third, the Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove to signify the proper effect of baptism, which is the remission of sins and reconciliation with God. The dove is a gentle animal. When once the whole world had suffered a common shipwreck and the entire human race was in peril, a dove appeared and showed the end of the storm, carrying an olive branch in its mouth and announcing peace restored to the world. All these things were figures of what was to come. For at that time human life was far worse and more deserving of punishment; yet even then, when matters were utterly desperate, liberation and correction were granted—then through punishment, now through grace and the ineffable mercy of the Redeemer. Therefore the dove is seen now not carrying an olive branch, but clearly showing us the Liberator from all evils and offering hope of blessings to come. It does not bring a single man out of the ark, but after it appears, it lifts the whole world to heaven, bringing, in place of the olive branch, the adoption of the entire human race as sons. Thus Saint John Chrysostom.
Fourth, the Holy Spirit appeared in the form of a dove over the baptized Lord to signify the common effect of baptism, which is the unity of the Church. Thus it is said in Ephesians 5 that Christ gave himself up in order to present to himself a glorious Church, without spot or wrinkle or anything of the sort, cleansing her by the washing of water with the word of life. Therefore it was fitting that the Holy Spirit be shown in the form of a dove, which is an animal capable of friendship and community. Hence in the Song of Songs it is said of the Church: “My dove is one.” From this Saint Cyprian says: “In the house of God, in the Church of Christ, the faithful dwell in unity, persevering in concord and simplicity.” And so the Holy Spirit came in a dove—an animal simple and joyful, without bitter gall, savage bites, or violent claws, loving human dwellings, knowing the fellowship of a single house, raising its young together, clinging to others in flight, living its life in shared companionship, and recognizing the law of unanimity in all things by the kiss of the beak.
This simplicity is to be recognized in the Church; this charity is to be preserved—that the love of the brethren may imitate the dove, and that meekness and gentleness may be made equal to lambs and sheep.
Saint Ambrose says: “Let us observe the mystery of why it was a dove. Grace requires the simplicity of the laver, that we may be simple as doves. Grace requires the peace of the laver, which in the ancient figure the dove once brought to that ark which alone was spared from the flood. He who deigned to descend in the form of a dove taught that in that branch and in that ark there was a type of the peace of the Church, to which the Holy Spirit brings fruitful peace amid the floods of the world.”
David also taught this, when seeing the sacrament of baptism with prophetic spirit he said: “Who will give me wings like a dove?”
Here Christ consecrates his baptism and shows its distinction from John’s baptism, as Saint John Chrysostom teaches. “What was done at the Passover,” he says, “is likewise accomplished in the renewal of baptism. For when the Lord celebrated both the old and the new Passover, he put an end to the former and gave the latter its beginning. Here, after fulfilling the Jewish baptism, he immediately opened the doors of that baptism which the Church uses. As then at one table, so now in one river, he approved the shadow and added the truth.”
For the grace of the Holy Spirit is present in Christ’s baptism, but John’s baptism lacks this gift. Therefore, when others were baptized nothing of this sort happened, but in this baptism alone it took place, so that you may know that it was not the merit of the baptizer but the power of the one baptized that was at work. Then the heavens were opened and the Holy Spirit descended, transferring us from the old Testament to the new, opening the heavenly gates for us, and sending the Holy Spirit from there to recall us to that homeland with the greatest dignity—not making us angels or archangels, but sons of God and beloved, leading us to eternal glory.
Mt 3:17. And behold, a voice from heaven, formed by the eternal Father, as though sealing the mission of Christ. For since the dove was mute and its meaning could have been ambiguous, a voice was fittingly added—both to declare Christ’s divinity and at the same time to reveal the mystery of the Holy Trinity: the Father speaking, the Son receiving testimony, and the Holy Spirit descending under the visible symbol of the dove.
The voice said: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Saint Mark and Saint Luke say, “You are my Son,” which are not contrary statements, since it must be believed that some Evangelists reported the very words, while others conveyed the sense.
“This is my Son”—not an adopted son, but my own; not one made comparable to me from another nature, but born of my substance, equal to me. This is my Son, whom the Godhead does not separate from me, power does not divide from me, eternity does not distinguish from me. This is my Son, who did not regard the equality which he has with me as something to be seized or usurped by robbery, but remaining in the form of my glory, in order to carry out the plan for restoring the human race, bowed the unchangeable divinity even unto the form of a servant. This is my Son, who alone and uniquely pleases me, in whom there is nothing displeasing; through whom all who have pleased me, who please me, and who shall please me—namely, all human beings acceptable and dear to me—have pleased me, do please me, and shall please me. This is he through whom I am appeased and reconciled to the world, of whom I said through the Prophet: “Behold my servant, I will uphold him; my chosen one, in whom my soul delights. I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.”
Saint Hilary reads that after the baptism Christ was addressed by the Father with the words: “You are my Son; today I have begotten you.” The same reading is given by Saint Justin Martyr in his Dialogue with Trypho (p. 331): “After he had come up from the river Jordan,” he says, “a voice was uttered concerning him: ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you,’” and so forth. Other Fathers also—and Saint Hilary himself in De Trinitate, Book VI, no. 23, and on Psalm 138—agree with our manuscripts in reading: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
The order of the heavenly mystery is expressed in Christ’s baptism. For when he was baptized, the gates of heaven were opened; the Holy Spirit was sent forth and was recognized in the visible form of a dove; and Christ was anointed with this outpouring of paternal favor. Then the voice from heaven speaks thus: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
Saint Hilary explains these words in this way: “The Son of God is manifested by hearing and by sight, and testimony concerning the Lord is sent to an unbelieving people and to prophets disobedient in the past—testimony both of vision and of voice together—so that from the things that were being accomplished in Christ we might understand that after the washing of water the Holy Spirit flies down upon us from the heavenly gates, that we are anointed with heavenly glory, and that by the adoption announced in the Father’s voice we are made sons of God. Thus, when we are disposed in this way, the Truth itself has prefigured for us the image of the sacrament in the very effects of the realities themselves.”
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