John Chrysostom
What, then, did the sick man say? "He answered Him: Yes, Lord; but I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is troubled. While I am coming, another steps down before me."
Christ asked, "Do you want to be made well?" so that we might learn all this. He did not say to him, "Do you want Me to heal you?" For at that time they did not yet hold such a high opinion of Him.
Instead He says, "Do you want to be made well?" But the patience of the paralytic is astonishing. He had been in sickness for thirty-eight years, and each year he expected healing.
He remained there and did not go away. If the length of the past time did not turn him from that place, the uncertainty of the future might have done so, had he not been so patient.
Read more (1694 words)
Consider how vigilant the other sufferers there must also have been. The time when the water was troubled was not known. The lame and maimed could watch. But how did the blind see?
Perhaps they learned of the water’s movement from the noise that occurred at the time.
Therefore let us be ashamed, beloved. Let us be ashamed and lament our great negligence. That man waited thirty-eight years and did not receive what he desired, yet he did not depart.
He did not fail to receive because of his own negligence, but because he met obstacles from others and suffered force. Yet through all this he did not grow faint in spirit.
But if we spend only ten days waiting for what we earnestly ask, and do not receive it, we are no longer inclined to make the same effort again.
For the sake of men we exert ourselves for so long a time. We serve in armies, perform heavy labors, and carry out servile duties, though in the end we often lose even the hope of reward.
Yet for the sake of our Lord, from whom we can without doubt receive a reward far greater than our labors, we do not strive to show proper zeal. We do not endure.
Scripture says, "Hope does not disappoint" (Rom 5:5). What punishment, then, does this deserve?
Even if we received nothing from Him, should we not count prolonged converse with Him alone as worth countless blessings?
But constant prayer, you say, is a difficult thing. Tell me, which good deed is not difficult?
You will say that the great difficulty lies in this: pleasure is joined to vice, while labor is joined to virtue. I think many seek an explanation for this. What is the cause?
In the beginning God gave us a life free from care and foreign to labors. But we did not use this gift as we ought. We were corrupted through negligence and lost Paradise.
Then God made our life full of toil. In His own defense before the human race, He says, as it were: "At first I gave you delights. But through self-will you became worse.
Therefore I determined to lay labors and sweat upon you." When even labors did not restrain us, He gave the Law, which contains commandments.
He put bits and fetters upon us, as upon untamed horses, to restrain our impulses, as horse-breakers do.
This is why our life is joined to labors: without labors we usually become corrupted. Our nature cannot remain idle. Otherwise it easily inclines to evil.
Suppose, for example, that a chaste man, or one distinguished by some other virtue, needed no struggles. Suppose he simply slept and nevertheless succeeded in everything. To what would such relaxation lead?
Would it not lead to pride and arrogance? Why, then, you say, is great pleasure joined to evil, while great labor and hardship are joined to virtue?
But what grace would be yours, and for what would you receive a reward, if the thing were not difficult?
Even now I can point to many who by nature turn away from intercourse with women and flee even conversation with them as something defiled.
But tell me, shall we call them chaste for this? Shall we crown and glorify them? By no means.
Chastity is abstinence and the conquering of desires through struggle. So it is in war. The stronger the battle, the more splendid the triumph. It is not so when no one even raises his hands.
There are many people gentle by nature. Can we call them meek? By no means. Thus Christ, speaking of three kinds of eunuchs, leaves two uncrowned and brings one into the Kingdom (Mt 19:12).
But why, they say, is evil necessary? I say the same. Yet who is the author of evil? Who else but our voluntary negligence?
But there ought, you say, to have been only good people. And what is the property of good? Is it to be sober and watchful, or to sleep and give oneself to carelessness?
Why, you ask, was it not judged better for good to be done without labor? Such words belong to animals and gluttons, who make their belly their god.
That these are words of laziness, judge from this. Suppose there were somewhere a ruler and a commander. The ruler slept or feasted, while the commander won victories with great labors.
To which of them would you ascribe the glory? To whom would the fruit of joyful events belong?
Do you see that the soul is more attached to that in which it has labored more? Therefore God joined labors to virtue, wishing to attach the soul to it.
For this reason we admire virtue, even though we ourselves do not practice it. We condemn vice, even though it seems very pleasant.
You will ask why we do not admire people who are good by nature, but rather those who are such by free choice. It is because justice requires preferring the one who labors to the one who does not.
And why, you ask, do we labor now? Because you did not wish to live prudently without labors.
If one examines carefully, idleness by itself usually corrupts us and causes many labors. For example, let us shut some man up in confinement and only feed him and fill his belly.
Let us not allow him either to walk or to engage in any work. Let him enjoy food and bed and be constantly filled. Could anything be more miserable than such a life?
But it is one thing, you say, to be occupied with something, and another to labor. Could one not then have acted without labors? Is that what you mean?
Certainly. God Himself willed this, but you did not endure it. God commanded you to cultivate Paradise, assigning you an occupation in this, but not joining any labor to it.
If man had had labor from the beginning, God would not afterwards have imposed labor on him as a punishment.
It is possible to act without being wearied, as belongs to the angels. Hear Scripture speak of the fact that they work: "mighty in strength, who perform His word" (Ps 102:20).
Now weakness of strength makes our work laborious. Then this was not so, for Scripture says, "He who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His" (Heb 4:10).
By this it means not idleness, but the absence of toil in work. God acts even now, as Christ says: "My Father is working until now, and I am working" (Jn 5:17).
Therefore I exhort you to put away every negligence and to be zealous for virtue. The pleasures of vice are short-lived, but the sorrow is continual. From virtue, on the contrary, joy is endless, while the labor is only temporary.
Even before receiving crowns, virtue consoles its laborer by nourishing him with hopes. Vice, even before punishment, torments its follower by tearing and frightening his conscience and making him regard everything with suspicion.
Is this not worse than the greatest labors and every exhaustion? Even if this were not so, and there were only pleasure, what could be more worthless than such pleasure?
As soon as it appears, it disappears. It withers and flees before we manage to possess it, whether one means pleasures of the flesh, luxury, or wealth. All these do not cease growing old every day.
And when punishment and torment follow as well, what could be more miserable than those who give themselves to vice?
Knowing this, let us endure everything for the sake of virtue. In this way we shall be counted worthy of true joy, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ.
With Him, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.
Great is the fruit from the divine Scriptures, and great is the benefit that comes from them. Paul shows this when he says, "Whatever was written before was written for our instruction, that through patience and the consolation of the Scriptures we might have hope" (Rom 15:4).
The divine word is a treasury of every kind of medicine. If one must humble arrogance, restrain desire, suppress attachment to money, overcome grief, inspire courage, or dispose the soul to patience, everyone can find great help there.
Who among those struggling with long poverty, or held fast by severe illness, will not receive great consolation after reading the passage now set before us?
Here is the paralytic. He remained in this condition for thirty-eight years. Each year he saw others healed, while he himself was still held by sickness. Yet he did not lose heart and did not despair.
Not only the cheerless past, but also hopelessness for the future, could have shaken him greatly.
Hear what he says, and understand the greatness of his suffering. When Christ said, "Do you want to be made well?" he answered, "Yes, Lord; but I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is troubled."
What could be more pitiable than these words? What could be more grievous than such a condition?
Do you see a heart crushed by long infirmity? Do you see how every impatience had been restrained in him?
He utters no blasphemy, as we hear from many in similar circumstances. He does not curse the day of his birth. He is not offended by such a question.
He did not say, "Surely You have come to laugh and jest at us, when You ask whether I want to be healed." Instead, with meekness and great submission, he says, "Yes, Lord."
Although he did not know who the questioner was, or whether He intended to heal him, he nevertheless tells everything meekly and demands nothing.
It was as though he were speaking with a physician and wished only to recount his sickness. Perhaps he hoped to receive from Christ only this help: that He would put him into the water.
For this reason he wishes to incline Him to himself by these words.