THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
As if confronting the vastness of creation, this magnificent figure, through the afflictions he endured, calls upon everyone to withstand all trials with resilience and not to waver amidst hardship. Indeed, there is no human suffering from which one who bears it cannot find solace. The pains scattered throughout the world converged upon him. What justification exists for one who cannot bear a portion of the sorrows he has faced, given that he has taken upon himself not merely a fraction but the entirety of humanity's miseries? Who can be poorer than Job, destitute even more than those left behind, bare and resting on the ashes, and indeed all humanity?
Read more (487 words)
These individuals possess garments, albeit tattered, while he sat without clothes, the one covering given by nature—his skin—corrupted in every region by the devil’s vile afflictions. Those in misery have makeshift coverings, while he endured the elements without even a simple shelter. Especially poignant is the knowledge they possess of their wrongdoings (for the awareness of deserved punishment brings a measure of comfort in suffering), but he lacked this consolation, having led a virtuous life, yet suffering as if among the worst of sinners. Others may have known misfortune from the outset of their lives, but he was thrust into dire poverty, an extent of destitution unparalleled. What can be more impoverished than a man without covering? He could not even claim a scrap of land—his position was not on the ground, but in filth. Thus, this singular misfortune serves as the root of all humanity's tribulations. The next affliction, or perhaps the first, is the torment of the body. Who has truly experienced this? Gradually, his body weakened, with foul eruptions bursting forth from his many wounds; this ceaseless flow caused a rancid stench to pervade around him. His body, slowly decaying and reeking of putrefaction, rendered even food distasteful, as he suffered from an unusual and alien hunger: he could not eat what was set before him. "I feel," he laments, "a stench in my food like the stench of a lion." What could be heavier than such suffering? Sleep brought no relief, food provided no sustenance. "Like the stench of a lion," he articulated, for that creature is indeed notoriously foul-smelling. Its insatiable greed has made it more repugnant than other beasts; it is said that other animals shy away from leftovers from its meals due to the lingering stench. What can anyone say of this famine, which is unprecedented and defies explanation? I cannot categorize it as voluntary or compelled; neither does an appropriate term come to mind for such a plight. He rejected the food offered and would not touch it, as the odor emanating from his wounds corrupted his appetite, rendering the food itself repulsive. In pointing this out, he declares: "I perceive the stench in my food." The urgency of hunger compelled the need for nourishment, yet the foulness spreading from his wounds overpowered his hunger. Thus, as I have expressed, I am at a loss for words: was it voluntary—yet he wished to partake of what was offered; or was it compelled—he had food, and none stopped him from eating?
The corruption and filth were not sufficient; an additional torment was laid upon him. The disease afflicted all his senses, making even sustenance a source of suffering. The odor of decay clouded his sensory perception. What could be more dreadful than this? Neither sleep provided him solace, nor did food satisfy him. "Like the smell of a lion," he remarks. For that creature, indeed, has a truly horrendous stench.