THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
Is there anything excessively challenging or onerous that the Lord asks of us? Isn’t it, rather, that which is simple and achievable? For He did not say, “I was sick, and you didn’t heal me,” but rather, “You did not visit Me.” He did not proclaim, “I was imprisoned, and you didn’t free me,” but instead, “You did not come to Me.” The lighter the commandments, the harsher the consequences for those who fail to observe them. What could be simpler, pray tell, than to visit an inmate? What can be more rewarding?
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When you encounter some in chains, some in squalor, some ragged and starving, some there with sunken ribs, others just returned from the streets where they begged all day only to surrender their meager earnings to guards at day's end, even if your heart is hardened, you will surely find your compassion ignited. Even if you are accustomed to a life of indulgence, witnessing the suffering of others will awaken a deeper wisdom, prompting reflections on the inevitable day of reckoning and the various consequences that will follow. Such thoughts will steer you away from anger, pleasure, and worldly entanglements, quieting your soul to a profound stillness. Contemplating judgment, you might realize that if human institutions impose such structures of order, how much more so does God? “For there is no authority except from God” (Rom. 13:1). The same God who has established earthly rulers will surely wield greater authority Himself. Without this fear, chaos would reign; even now, among numerous threats of punishment, many still choose the path of wrongdoing. But recognizing this will not only inspire you to heightened acts of mercy but will also grant you an immense joy, far exceeding mere entertainment. Those who return from such places are often engulfed in reckless desires. After witnessing the enticements of sin on display, they emerge like raging seas; everything they have seen disturbs their peace. Conversely, those who frequently visit prisoners return with a sense of profound tranquility. The sorrow stirred by observing the plight of the incarcerated douses any inner turmoil. One who departs from these surroundings, having witnessed such despair, will find themselves unaffected even by the most seductive temptress, for the fear of divine judgment will loom larger than her allure.
This is why he who relished every earthly pleasure stated, “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting” (Ecclesiastes 7:2). His prudence is commendable, and he will hear words that yield immeasurable blessings. Let us not overlook such a noble undertaking. We may not possess the means to provide food or financial assistance, yet we can offer solace and encouragement to a downtrodden soul through our words. We are able to advocate for those behind bars, urging leniency from their guards, contributing what good we can regardless of scale. If you claim that only villains inhabit such places—murderers, grave robbers, thieves, and debauchers—you reveal yet another reason we must visit the incarcerated. We are not called to show mercy only to the righteous or to punish the wicked, but to extend kindness to all. “Be, therefore, like your heavenly Father, for He makes His sun rise on both the evil and the good and sends rain on the just and the unjust” (Matthew 5:45). So, do not condemn others harshly, nor should you act as an unforgiving arbiter; instead, exhibit gentleness and humanity. For even if we are not guilty of murder, robbery, or theft, we harbor other transgressions deserving of severe consequences. We have, at times, called a brother a fool, exposing ourselves to eternal damnation; we have gazed lustfully at women, equivalent to committing adultery; yet, worst of all, we partake in the sacraments unworthily, thus bearing guilt for the body and blood of Christ. Let us not scrutinize our neighbor’s sins while neglecting our own; rather, let us reflect on our past misconduct and strive to be compassionate and kind.
There are indeed good individuals among the imprisoned, often deserving of a city’s honor. Just as Joseph, who was wrongfully imprisoned, attended to the wicked around him, we too might find those who, despite their circumstances, possess great worth. He was more valuable than all of Egypt yet dwelt in obscurity, and many within those walls may similarly embody righteousness but remain unrecognized. Even if none such existed, the act of compassion will still yield a rich reward. Our Lord did not limit His message to the righteous; He embraced the unclean, welcoming the Canaanite with open arms and assisting the sinful Samaritan woman. He even befriended and healed a fallen woman, drawing criticism from the Jews, for He knew humanity required mercy. This essence of compassion is paramount.
Do you question the presence of criminals and thieves in prisons? In cities, do only the righteous dwell? Are not many, in fact, more depraved while masquerading their transgressions under the veil of respectability? Unseen acts of outrageous greed manifest amongst the deceitful, yet those in prison commit their crimes before all. Finding a truly pure individual is rare; we may not steal outright, yet we often rob in subtler ways. Are we not guilty when we bargain unfairly in trade or endeavor to secure a better price deceitfully? Do not dismiss smaller acts of theft as inconsequential; injustice holds true in great and small alike based on intention. I regard both the one who blatantly robs and the one who surreptitiously deceives as thieves. Therefore, let us not judge others’ shortcomings, neglecting our own missteps, nor should we immerse ourselves in vice when compassion is needed. Reflecting on what we once were, let us strive to embody gentleness and warmth.
Paul reminds us of our former selves: “For we ourselves were also once foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving diverse lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one another” (Titus 3:3). In another account, he reflects, “And were by nature children of wrath” (Eph. 2:3). Yet God, recognizing our condition as though we were in chains heavier than iron, chose not to turn away but ventured into our prison, liberating us from deserved punishment and leading us into His kingdom, granting us a radiance in heaven—a gift He desires for us to extend in turn.
When He instructs His disciples, “If I, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set an example that you also should do as I have done” (John 13:14, 15), He speaks not only of foot washing but of embodying the servitude that He exemplified in all our interactions. Whether a murderer resides within those walls, let us not shy away from doing good. Regardless of the nature of their offenses, we ought not to overlook their suffering. In fact, as I’ve suggested, you may find individuals within prison worth more than their weight in gold. By consistently visiting those imprisoned, we may uncover such treasures. Like Abraham, who generously welcomed all travelers and unknowingly entertained angels, we too may encounter remarkable individuals in our good deeds. A remarkable truth is that it is not the one who welcomes the illustrious that deserves the highest praise, but rather the one who receives the downtrodden, as they stand out amidst the ruins of human despair. The despised and rejected have no refuge but our kindness.
Moreover, it often happens that those who assist an esteemed individual do so for their own glory, while those who offer comfort to the forsaken act solely out of divine command. “When you give a feast,” we are instructed, “invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind” (Luke 14:13). When performing acts of charity, we are called to remember the least among us. “Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto me” (Matt. 25:40). Therefore, understanding the treasure to be found among the imprisoned, let us seek to visit them often, to invest our efforts in their care, transferring our zeal from superficial spectacles to profound deeds. Should you find yourself unable to carry material gifts, bring with you words of comfort. God rewards not solely those who feed the hungry but also those who offer encouragement and support. By uplifting the trembling and anxious with your presence, your help, and assurance, you will be met with no small recompense. In contexts of lesser regard, many who indulge in worldly pleasures may mock your efforts, but those in despair will receive your words with humility and appreciation, transforming themselves for the better.
As harsh as the world may be, the truth is, nothing stirs compassion like experiencing hardship and tribulation. Consider the profound impact this compassionate endeavor might have not only on those imprisoned but also on ourselves, if we immerse ourselves in their suffering and extend our time ordinarily wasted in trivial pursuits. Through these acts, we shall uplift them and ourselves, and by serving with devotion to God’s glory, we will receive eternal blessings through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ. To Him, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be all glory, now and forever. Amen.