THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
The dignity of teachers does not consist in seeking honor and glory from their disciples, but in leading them to salvation and directing all their actions toward this end. If a teacher cared only for the former, his own honor and glory, he would be no teacher, but a tyrant.
God set you over them not so that you might enjoy greater honor, but so that, forgetting yourself, you might think only of what concerns them. Such is the teacher's duty. Such was blessed Paul. He was a stranger to all pride and lived on equal terms with others, even as though he were less than others. He called himself their servant, and very often gave instruction in the form of entreaty.
See how even now he writes, not in a commanding or authoritative tone, but meekly and humbly. "I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beseech you," he says, "to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called." Tell me, why do you entreat? Is it so that you may gain something for yourself? No, he says, but so that I may save others. Yet the one who entreats entreats for what is useful to himself. This too is useful to me, he says, as I wrote elsewhere: "For now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord" (1 Thess 3:8). So intensely did he always desire the salvation of his disciples.
"I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord." Truly it is a great and weighty honor to be in bonds for the Lord. It is higher than royal rank, consular dignity, or any other honor. He speaks of these bonds also in the epistle to Philemon: "as I, Paul, an old man, and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ" (Phlm 1:9).
Indeed, nothing is so glorious as bonds for Christ, as chains laid upon those holy hands. To be a prisoner for Christ is more glorious than to be an apostle, teacher, or evangelist. Whoever loves Christ understands these words. Whoever presses irresistibly toward the Master and burns with love for Him knows the power of bonds. Paul would have preferred imprisonment for Christ to life in heaven.
His chained hands seemed to his disciples brighter than any gold or royal crown. A diadem set with precious stones does not shine on the head as brightly as iron chains for Christ. Then the prison is brighter than royal palaces. What do I say, royal palaces? It is brighter even than heaven itself, because it contains a prisoner of Christ.
Whoever loves Christ knows this dignity, knows this virtue, and knows how many blessings imprisonment for Him has brought to the human race. Perhaps bonds for Him are more glorious than sitting at His right hand, and more venerable than sitting on the twelve thrones. What, then, shall I say of human blessings? I am ashamed to compare wealth and golden adornment with bonds.
Leaving aside the greatness of bonds, I say this. Even if bonds for Christ were rewarded with nothing, the reward would still be great. The recompense would be sufficient in this alone, that these sufferings are endured for the Beloved. These words are understood by those who love, if not God, then people. Such persons rejoice more in suffering for their beloved than in receiving honors from them.
They were understood also by the sacred company of the apostles. Listen to what blessed Luke says: "They departed from the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name of Christ" (Acts 5:41). To some it seems laughable to count dishonor as dignity and turn it into a cause of joy. But those who know the love of Christ count this dishonor higher than every blessedness.
If someone offered me either all heaven or those chains, I would prefer the chains. If someone wished to place me either on high with the angels or with Paul bound in prison, I would choose the prison. If someone made me one of those powers that surround heaven and the throne of God, or such a prisoner, I would prefer to become that prisoner. And rightly so, for nothing is more blessed than those chains.
I would now desire to be in the places where, they say, those bonds are still preserved, to see them and marvel at the people who had such strong love for Christ. I would desire to see the chains before which demons are terrified and tremble, and which angels honor. Nothing is better than suffering hardship for Christ.
I do not bless Paul so much because he was caught up into Paradise as because he was cast into prison. I do not bless him so much because he heard ineffable words as because he was in bonds. I do not bless him so much because he was caught up to the third heaven as because of the bonds.
That the bonds are greater than all these things, he himself knew. Listen. He did not say, I beseech you, I who heard ineffable words. What did he say? "I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beseech you." It is no wonder that he does not use these words in all the epistles, for he was not always in bonds, but only at certain times.
For me, it is nobler to suffer evil for Christ than to receive honors from Him. This is great honor. This is glory, beyond which there is nothing. If He became a servant for my sake and counted glory as nothing, and if He counted nothing so glorious for Himself as being crucified for me, what should I not endure?
Listen to what He Himself says: "Father, glorify Your Son" (Jn 17:1). What are You saying? You are being led to the Cross with thieves and robbers, to undergo a shameful death. You endure blows and spitting, and You call this glory? I do call it so, He says. Since I suffer for those whom I love, I count these sufferings glory.
If He, having loved the pitiable and wretched, calls sufferings glory, and if for Him glory consisted not in being on the Father's throne, but in dishonor, and He preferred the latter to the former, then much more must I count this glory.
O blessed bonds! O blessed hands adorned with those bonds! Paul's hands were not so honorable when they set the lame man in Lystra on his feet and gave him the power to walk (Acts 14:8-11), as when they were in bonds. If I had lived then, I would have kissed them above all else and pressed them to my eyes. I would continually have kissed the hands counted worthy to be in bonds for my Master.
Do you marvel that the viper touched Paul's hand and did him no harm? Do not marvel. It feared the chains. The whole sea also feared them, for then he was in chains. If someone offered me the power to raise the dead, I would choose not that power, but the chains.
If I had no cares for the Church and my bodily strength were firm, I would not refuse to make so long a journey merely to see Paul's chains and the prison in which he was confined. Although memorials of his miracles are found everywhere, they do not affect me as much as the memorials of his wounds.
In the Scriptures, too, he delights me not so much when he performs miracles as when he suffers hardship, when he is beaten and dragged. The handkerchiefs and aprons through which miraculous works were done are rightly honored. They too are worthy of wonder, but not as much as the apostolic sufferings.
It is written that, after beating them, "when they had laid many stripes on them, they threw them into prison" (Acts 16:23). Again: "the prisoners were singing hymns to God" (Acts 16:25). Again: "they stoned him and dragged him out of the city, supposing him to be dead" (Acts 14:19).
If you wish to know how much chains mean when they are laid for Christ upon the body of His servant, listen to what Christ Himself says: "Blessed are you." When? When you raise the dead? No. When, then? When you heal the blind? Not even then. But when? "When they revile you and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake" (Mt 5:11). If mere reproach brings so much blessedness, what will suffering hardship not bring?
Listen to what the blessed one himself says elsewhere: "There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness" (2 Tim 4:8). Yet the bonds are more glorious than that crown. May I only be counted worthy of them, and I do not reason about anything else. Without any recompense, suffering for Christ alone is enough for me. Let me only be able to say that I fill up "in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ" (Col 1:24), and I need nothing more.
Peter too was counted worthy of such bonds. It is written that he "was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains" (Acts 12:6). He was so peaceful in his bonds and grieved so little over them that he could sleep. Deep sleep would not have overcome him if he had been in great anxiety.
He was sleeping between the soldiers. "And behold, an angel of the Lord stood by him, and a light shone in the prison. The angel struck Peter on the side and raised him up" (Acts 12:7). If someone asked me, What would you rather be, the angel who struck Peter, or Peter who was saved? I would prefer to be Peter, for whose sake even an angel came. Those bonds would be sweet to me.
Why then, someone says, did he pray after being freed from prison, as though he had been delivered from the greatest calamity? Do not marvel at this. He prayed because he feared death. He feared death because he wished still to live for sufferings.
Listen to what blessed Paul himself says about this: "I have a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better, but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you" (Phil 1:23-24). He later called this a gift: "For to you it has been granted on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for Him" (Phil 1:29).
Thus the latter is greater than the former, because "it has been granted to you." Truly this is the greatest gift, greater than all other gifts, greater than the gift of stopping the sun and moon, and greater than the gift of moving the world. It is greater than authority over demons or the power to cast out demons. They do not suffer as much when we cast them out by faith as when they see us endure afflictions and bonds for Christ. This gives us greater boldness toward Christ.
It is good to be in bonds for Christ, not because they bring us the Kingdom, but because this happens for Christ's sake. I bless bonds not because they open the way to heaven beforehand, but because they are endured for the Master of heaven. To know that he suffered bonds for Christ, how much consolation this brought the apostle! How much joy! How much honor! How much glory!
I myself would desire always to speak about this. I would desire at least to touch those chains. But since I am deprived of this happiness in deed, at least in thought, through sincere desire, I enclose my soul in them.
Because of the earthquake, it is written, the prison with Paul in bonds was shaken, "and everyone's chains were loosed" (Acts 16:26). Do you see the property of bonds, that they loose bonds? As the Lord's death slew death, so Paul's bonds loosed the prisoners, shook the prison, and opened the doors.
Yet the natural power of bonds is not this, but the very opposite: to hold the prisoner firmly and not tear down the prison walls before him. That quality belongs not to ordinary bonds, but to bonds for Christ.
"The keeper of the prison fell down trembling before Paul and Silas" (Acts 16:27, 29). Ordinary bonds do not do this. They do not bring those who bound to the feet of those bound, but subject the latter to the former. But now the free man was at the feet of the prisoner. The one who bound begged the one bound to free him from fear.
Tell me, did you not bind him? Did you not put him in the inner prison? Did you not fasten his feet in the stocks? Why then do you tremble? Why are you troubled? Why do you weep? Why have you drawn the sword? I have never happened to bind such men, he says. I did not know that such is the power of Christ's prisoners.
What are you saying? They have received authority to open the heavens. Will they not open a prison? They loosed those bound by demons. Will iron be stronger than they? You did not know these men, and for this reason you deserve pardon. The one bound is Paul, whom all angels honor. It is Paul whose handkerchiefs and towels drove out demons and healed diseases.