John Chrysostom
If trials are unavoidable, one might wonder why Christ expresses sorrow for the world when He could have liberated it from these hardships and offered assistance. Isn’t it the role of a healer or advocate to demonstrate compassion? Anyone can express sorrow. How should we respond to such brazen remarks? Is there any healing comparable to that which Christ offers? Being divine, He took on humanity for your sake and embraced the role of a servant, enduring all forms of mistreatment, leaving nothing undone on His part. Nonetheless, seeing the ingratitude of humanity, He feels sorrow for them—regretting that even after such sacrifices they remain afflicted by sin—similar to someone lamenting a patient who, despite extensive care, refuses to follow medical advice, exclaiming, "Woe to that man for worsening his condition through neglect!” Here, regret serves as a remedy as Christ reveals the future and laments the state of the world. Indeed, while many have heeded counsel without change, regret has often spurred correction. This is precisely why the Savior proclaimed, "Woe to the world!" to awaken people and prepare them for challenges. His lament is evidence of His love and gentleness, even towards those who oppose Him, aiming to attract them back to Himself with His sorrowful foresight.
But it may prompt the question: If trials must come, how can they be avoided? While facing trials is a necessity, succumbing to them is not. Consider a doctor who asserts that an illness will arrive; it does not imply that this illness will necessarily harm a vigilant individual. The Savior's words, as previously mentioned, were intended to rouse His disciples from complacency and to inform them of the struggles—both internal and external—that would confront them. Paul pointed to this reality when he noted “Outside there is strife, inside there is fear, troubles from false brethren” (2 Cor. 7:5; 2 Cor. 11:26). Speaking to the elders of Ephesus in Miletus, he warned, “From among your own selves will arise men speaking perverse things” (Acts 20:30). Additionally, Christ stated, “A man's foes will be those of his own household” (Matthew 10:36).
When Christ speaks about the inevitability of trials, He does not undermine human free will or impose a necessity upon our lives; rather, He simply foretells what is destined to occur. This sentiment is echoed by the Evangelist Luke, who noted, “It is impossible that no offenses should come” (Luke 17:1). So what are trials? They are the obstacles on the righteous path. In the theater, those who cleverly introduce obstacles to confuse and manipulate are similarly named. Thus, it is not the Savior’s prophecy that brings trials; nor did temptations arise because they were foretold. Instead, temptations are a consequence of circumstances that were bound to occur. If those bringing forth temptations chose not to do evil, then those temptations would not manifest, and should they not have existed, they wouldn’t have been prophesied. However, since individuals succumbed to sin and embraced a chronic ailment, trials entered into play, and the Savior merely forecasts what is to come.
Should these individuals have repented, you might argue, and no temptations had been introduced, would not this prediction become false? Not at all; it would hold true. Had all people been capable of reform, the Savior would not have declared that temptations must come. However, knowing some would refuse to amend their ways, He stated that trials would indeed arise. You may also wonder why the Lord did not eradicate these temptations. Is it for the benefit of those who suffer from them? Those afflicted are harmed not by the existence of trials but rather by their own negligence. We see this clearly in the examples of virtuous individuals, who often derive no harm from trials but rather gain the most significant benefits from them. Such examples include Job, Joseph, and the apostles. If some face ruin, it is due to their carelessness. If this were not the case, and if ruin hinged upon trials, then all would surely perish. Those who steer clear of trials bear responsibility for their own plight. Trials, as stated, rouse individuals from lethargy, making them vigilant and prudent, benefiting not only those who avoid them but also those who have stumbled, guiding them toward restoration. Thus, if we remain attentive, we can see how temptations benefit us: they teach us to remain alert. If we allow ourselves to slumber, even amidst numerous trials, what would become of us in times of ease?
Consider the first man. How, for even a short time in paradise, could he let himself deteriorate to the point of aspiring to be equal to God, viewing the deceiver as a friend, and failing to obey a single command? What would have happened had he enjoyed a life free from worry thereafter? When we voice these insights, detractors may argue again, "Why did God create him this way?" No, God did not shape him thus; otherwise, He would not have punished him. If we do not hold our servants accountable for our own failings, how could the Sovereign of all creation do any less? How did humanity become so flawed? Through their own choices and negligence. If the wicked are not wicked by choice, then do not punish your servant, do not scold your wife for her faults, nor strike your son, nor harbor animosity toward the one who wrongs you. All deserve compassion, not punishment, if their faults arise from circumstances beyond their control. Yet you may say, "I cannot reason like that." But when you realize that they are made guilty by necessity rather than choice, you can reflect clearly. Thus, if a slave fails to follow orders due to illness, you would not only refrain from blaming him but would probably forgive him. This suggests that some factors are within one's control while others are not. Likewise, if the first man was inherently evil due to his creation, you would not accuse him but rather forgive him willingly. If you extend forgiveness to a servant who suffers from sickness, how could you withhold it from one created by God who is inclined toward wrongdoing—assuming he truly was created in that manner?
Those who raise such objections might be silenced by another point: the truth is rich with evidence. For instance, why would you never blame a servant for not having an attractive appearance, for not being tall, or for lacking the ability to fly? Because these traits depend on nature. Thus, a person cannot be held accountable for conditions that are innate; this is generally accepted. Consequently, when you chide someone, you indicate their wrongdoing stems from the terrain of their will, not their nature. If refraining from blaming others for their faults suggests that their faults are naturally derived, then it logically follows that when judging others, it reveals their faults arise from free will. Therefore, avoid entangling yourself in fallacious reasoning that is weaker than a spider’s web, and allow me to return to the core question: Did God create all of humanity? Of course. Why then are not all equally virtuous and sinful? What leads to the existence of the good, the humble, and the wicked? If a person's character were determined solely by nature, why are some virtuous and others depraved? If all were innately evil, then none could possess goodness; if all were innately good, then none could be immoral. If all individuals share the same nature, they must also exhibit the same character traits—either universally good or universally bad. However, if we assert that some are innately good while others are not, this inconsistency implies that these qualities cannot exist interchangeably, as characteristics determined by nature do not change.
For instance, we are all mortal, subject to passions, and none can escape them despite numerous attempts. Yet we observe that many virtuous individuals become corrupt and that the wicked can reform, indicating clearly that being good or evil does not derive solely from inherent nature. What is given by nature remains unchanged and unearned. Just as we do not labor to see or hear, so too should virtue come without effort if it were a natural condition. Why, then, would God create the wicked when He could easily create only the good? Whence does evil arise? This is a question worth pondering; my purpose is to demonstrate it stems neither from nature nor from God. Thus, you pose the inquiry: Did evil arise on its own? Indeed, it did not. What, then, is it—unborn? Be still, O man! Flee from such folly, and do not confer upon evil the same stature as God, who is the highest. For if evil is unborn, it implies it possesses power and cannot be thwarted or extinguished—everyone acknowledges that the unborn cannot perish. Why are there so many virtuous individuals if evil wields such dominion? How can the created be stronger than the uncreated? You may insist that God will someday eradicate evil, but how will He accomplish this when, like Himself, it is uncreated, powerful, and eternal? The wickedness of the enemy indeed breeds great evil and leads humanity into blasphemy. Under the guise of piety, it has fashioned new heresies, attempting to suggest that evil does not originate from God.
Evil arises from desire and aversion. But where do desires and aversions originate? From within ourselves. To pose such a question is to ask: Why does a person sometimes see and sometimes not see? If I reply that it is due to the act of opening and closing one's eyes, you may further inquire: Why does one choose to open or close their eyes? And on revealing that it is ultimately a matter of will, you might seek yet another explanation. Evil is fundamentally disobedience to God. You ask, how did this disobedience come to be? But let me ask you: Was this disobedience inevitable? I can't say it was; I merely question why someone would wish to disobey God. The answer is negligence. Given the choice to either obey or disobey God, the choice was made to disobey. Should you find yourself still uncertain, I propose a straightforward and clear question: Have there not been instances in your life when you acted poorly or righteously? Have you not sometimes overcome anger and at other times succumbed to it, given in to intoxicants and then refrained, or disdained the poor only to find sympathy? Reflect upon where this dichotomy arises. If you're silent, I will answer for you: it stems from initial attempts to pursue virtue and then falling into weakness and neglect.
To those who are completely lost to wrongdoing, desensitized and irrational, unwilling to entertain thoughts that might restore them, I will not speak of noble responsibilities; however, to those who waver between good and evil, I will delightfully assert: You have taken what does not belong to you, yet found compassion leading you to share with the needy out of your own gain. Where did this transformation originate? Is it not clear that it springs from your will and inner disposition? This is evident and easily accepted by all. Therefore, I urge you to be diligent and steadfast in pursuit of virtue, and you shall not pose such queries. If we strive for goodness, then evil will only exist in name. Thus, refrain from asking where evil originates and do not indulge in uncertainty; rather, recognize its source in carelessness and act to remove it. Furthermore, if anyone claims that evil does not spring from within ourselves, point to their anger towards servants, their wife, their children, or others who offend them, and ask: How can you assert that evil is not our own doing? If evil does not arise from us, why the blame? Inquire whether they criticize and insult others willingly; if not, then no one should be angry with them. If they act intentionally, it confirms that the evil originates with them and their neglect.