John Chrysostom
These two afflictions especially crushed them, as they crush all people: poverty and sorrow. See, then, how he heals them. Their poverty came from the plundering of their possessions. If he commands those whose property was plundered for Christ to eat by their labor, how much more does he command others.
That their possessions were plundered is clear from the words: "You, brethren, became imitators of the churches of God in Christ Jesus which are in Judea" (1 Thess 2:14). In what way? In the same way, for when writing to the latter he said, "You accepted the plundering of your goods with joy" (Heb 10:34).
Then here he speaks about the resurrection. Why? Had he not spoken to them about it? Here, however, he has another mystery in mind. What is it? "We who are alive," he says, "who remain until the coming of the Lord, shall not precede those who have fallen asleep." Certainly, the teaching on the resurrection can calm those who grieve. What is now said can also make the resurrection credible.
But first we must speak of what the Apostle himself said: "I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, that you may not sorrow as others who have no hope." See how gently he speaks here also. He did not say to them, as to the Corinthians, "You are so senseless and unreasonable that, knowing the resurrection, you grieve like unbelievers." Rather, out of regard for their other virtue, he said very gently, "I do not want."
Nor did he say, "concerning the dead," giving consolation at once, from the very beginning. "That you may not sorrow," he says, "as others who have no hope." Therefore, to grieve for the departed belongs to those who lack hope. And this is truly so. A soul that knows nothing of the resurrection, and regards this death as death itself, naturally grieves over the dead as over the lost. It laments and weeps without consolation. But you, who await the resurrection, why do you weep? Therefore, weeping belongs to those who lack hope.
Listen, women, you who love to weep and surrender yourselves to boundless grief. You are acting like pagans. If grieving over the dead belongs to pagans, then tell me, to whom is it fitting to beat oneself and tear the cheeks? Why do you weep, if you believe that the dead man will rise, that he has not perished, and that death is sleep and rest?
You say, "Because in him I have lost a husband, a protector, a caretaker, and a helper in every matter and need." But when you lost a son in infancy, who could not yet do anything for you, why did you weep? What did you lament? "He gave good hopes," you say, "and I expected him to care for me."
This is why I mourn my husband, and this is why I mourn my son. This is why I am torn and sob. It is not because I disbelieve the resurrection, but because I have become helpless. I have lost my protector, my companion, my partner in everything, and my comforter. This is why I weep. I know that he will rise, but I cannot bear even a temporary separation. Many troubles threaten me. Anyone who wishes can wrong me. Servants who formerly feared me now despise and insult me. Whoever was benefited by the dead man has forgotten his benefactions. Whoever was wronged by him pours out anger on me because of hatred for him. This is why I cannot bear widowhood calmly, or refrain from bitter weeping. This is why I am torn; this is why I weep.
How, then, shall we console them? What shall we say? How shall we calm their sorrow? First, I shall try to prove to them that their weeping does not come from these causes, but from an unreasonable passion. Indeed, if you grieve for these reasons, you ought to grieve without ceasing after the dead. But if after one year you forget him so much that it is as though nothing had happened to you, then clearly you are not mourning the dead man, nor his protection.
But you cannot bear separation and the end of married life? What, then, will those who enter a second marriage say? Surely they no longer lament their former husbands. Yet we shall not address our word to them, but to those who nourish sincere attachment to the dead.
Why do you weep for your son? Why do you weep for your husband? You say, "For the first, because he did not bring me the joy I expected; for the second, because I hoped to share joys with him longer." But is it not extreme unbelief to think that a husband or son will protect you, and not God? How does it not occur to you that by this you insult God? For this reason He often takes them away, so that you may not be attached to them so deeply, nor place your hopes solely in them.
God is jealous, and He wants us to love Him above all. This comes from His great love for us. You know that this is the nature of those who love ardently. They are exceedingly jealous and would rather lose life itself than see their rivals triumph. For this reason, therefore, God has taken him away.
Tell me, why in ancient times were there no premature widowhood and orphanhood? Why did God permit Abraham and Isaac to live for a long time? Certainly because Abraham, even while Isaac was alive, preferred God to him. God said, "Sacrifice him," and Abraham sacrificed him. Why did He prolong Sarah's years to such old age? Because throughout her life Abraham obeyed God more than her. Therefore God said to him, "Listen to Sarah your wife" (Gen 21:12).
At that time no one drew God's wrath upon himself through love for a husband, love for a wife, or anxious care for a son. But now, since we are passionately attached to earthly things and have fallen deeply, husbands love wives more than God, and wives honor husbands more than God. Therefore He desires, even against our will, to compel us to love Himself.
Do not love your husband more than God, and you will never experience widowhood. Even if it should befall you, you will not feel its weight. Why? Because you have as your protector the Immortal One, who loves you more. If you love God more, do not weep. The One more beloved is immortal, and He will not allow you to be crushed by the loss of the one you love less.
I shall explain this with an example. Suppose you had a husband who acted in all things according to your desire, who was honorable and loved you. Suppose you were happy with him and had a child by him, but the child died before reaching maturity. Tell me, would you then be crushed by grief? No, because the husband whom you loved more would fill up the loss.
So also in the present case, if you love God more than your husband, then He will surely not take him quickly. Even if He should take him, you will not grieve bitterly. For this reason blessed Job gave himself to no grief at all when he heard of the sudden death of his children. He loved God more than them. Therefore the loss could not sadden him, because the One whom he loved was alive.
What are you saying, woman? Would your husband or son have been your protection? Does God not care for you? Who gave him himself to you? Was it not God? Who created you? Was it not God? Will He who brought you from nonbeing into being, breathed a soul into you, placed reason within you, and was pleased to give you knowledge of Himself, not pity you? He did not spare His Only-begotten Son for your sake. Will such a servant as you are pity you, while He does not?
What great wrath such words arouse! What like this did you receive from your husband? You can point to nothing. If he showed you some benefaction, he did so after already having been benefited by you. But no one can say anything of the kind about God. God does not do good to us in order to repay our former benefits to Him. Being in need of nothing, He benefits the human race by His goodness alone.
He promised you the Kingdom. He granted eternal life, glory, brotherhood, and adoption. He made you a fellow heir with the Only-begotten. After so many blessings, do you still remember your husband? What did he give you? God commanded His sun to rise. He sent rain. He feeds you with fruits that grow each year. Woe to us, utterly ungrateful as we are!
For this reason God takes away a husband, so that you may not be attached exclusively to him. Yet even after his death you would still desire to have him, and you forsake God, when you ought to thank Him and turn wholly to Him.
What did you receive from your husband? The pains of childbearing, labors, insults, frequent reproaches, rebukes, and griefs. Is this not what wives endure from husbands? "But on the other side," you say, "there were advantages." What advantages? Did he dress you in costly garments? Did he put golden ornaments on your face? Did he compel everyone to respect you?
If you wish, God will adorn you with an adornment far better than the dead man gave. Honor adorns a woman more than golden ornaments. This King also has garments, but not such as those. They are far better. If you wish, be clothed in them. What are they? It is the robe with golden fringes. If you wish, clothe your soul with it.
"But with him I was not despised among people." What is great in that? Widowhood, in return, will prevent you from being mocked by the demons. Then you ruled your servants, if indeed you ruled them. Now, instead of household attendants, you have authority over bodiless powers, principalities, authorities, and the world-ruler.
Besides this, you do not mention the hardships you shared with him, such as fear of officials, and the preference of his peers over him. Now you are free from all this, from fear and dread. But you are anxious about who will feed the children left behind. The Father of orphans! Tell me, who gave them? Do you not hear what Christ says in the Gospel: "Is not the soul more than food, and the body more than clothing?" (Mt 6:25). Do you see that the cause of weeping is not widowhood, but unbelief?
"But after the father's death the children become less distinguished." Why? They have God as Father, and they become less distinguished? How many can I show you who were raised by widows and gained renown! How many, on the contrary, were raised with fathers and nevertheless perished! If from their earliest years you raise them as they ought to be raised, this will be far more beneficial for them than enjoying their father's protection.
That widows truly are obliged to raise children, hear what Paul says: "If she has brought up children" (1 Tim 5:10). And again: "Nevertheless she will be saved through childbearing." He did not say, "because of a husband," but, "if they continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control" (1 Tim 2:15).
From their earliest years instill in them the fear of God. It will preserve them better than any father; it will be an unbreakable wall. When this guardian dwells within us, we need no outer defenses. When it is absent, everything outward is vain. It will be wealth, glory, and adornment for them. It will make them glorious not only on earth, but also in heaven.
Do not look at those girded with golden belts, or at those who ride horses. Do not look at those who shine in royal courts because of their ancestors' merits, or who walk with attendants and tutors. Perhaps this is what makes widows weep over the fate of orphans. Each thinks, "If my son's father were alive, he too would enjoy such happiness. But now he is in humiliation and obscurity, so that no one even wishes to speak with him."
But do not think of this, woman. Soar in thought beyond the gates of heaven. Consider the royal courts there. Behold the King seated there. Consider whether these earthly fortunate ones can be more glorious there than your son. Then grieve. Yet there is no need even to think that someone is distinguished on earth. If you wish, he can become a soldier in heaven and be enrolled in that army.