John Chrysostom
He encouraged and inspired them by showing that the preaching had reached even the royal household. If those who were in the royal palace despised everything for the King of heaven, then they had far more reason to do the same.
This was also proof of Paul’s love. He spoke of them much and with great praise. By this he stirred even the courtiers to desire to greet them, though they had never seen them.
Great was the love among believers, especially because they were then under oppression. How was this so? Those living far from one another were mutually united. Though distant, as if living nearby, they greeted one another. Each was disposed toward the others as toward his own members.
Read more (1677 words)
The poor man was disposed toward the rich man, just as the rich man was toward the poor. There was no superiority, because all were equally hated and persecuted for one and the same reason.
It is like captives brought from various cities. When they are gathered into one city, they become closely joined in friendship, because their common misfortune unites them. So also believers at that time, when common sufferings and sorrows united them, had great love for one another.
Affliction is a kind of unbreakable bond, an increase of love, and a condition of contrition and right-mindedness. Hear what David says: “It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I may learn Your statutes” (Ps 118:71).
Another prophet also says, “It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth” (Lam 3:27). Again, “Blessed is the man whom You instruct, O Lord” (Ps 93:12). Another says, “Do not reject the discipline of the Lord” (Prov 3:11).
In another place it says, “If you come forward to serve the Lord God, prepare your soul for temptation” (Sir 2:1). Christ likewise said to His disciples, “In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer” (Jn 16:33).
Again He said, “You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice” (Jn 16:20). And again, “Narrow is the gate and difficult is the way” (Mt 7:14).
Do you see that affliction is praised everywhere, and everywhere presented as necessary for us? Indeed, even in outward contests no one receives a crown without it. No one is crowned without strengthening himself by labors, abstinence from food, rules of self-control, vigils, and countless other means.
How much more is this true here. Whom do you wish to set before us? A king? Even he does not lead a carefree life, but one full of many sorrows and concerns.
Do not look at the diadem, but at the storm of anxieties from which confusion is born for him. Do not look at the purple robe, but at his soul, more darkened than that purple. The crown does not so much encircle his head as anxiety encircles his soul.
Do not look at the multitude of bodyguards, but at the multitude of griefs. One cannot find a single private house filled with such cares as the royal chambers are filled with. There, various kinds of death are expected daily from one’s own people. Blood is seen before both food and drink.
As for the night, one cannot even say how often they leap up and spring from their beds, disturbed by dreams. This is in time of peace. But if war comes, the cares increase still more. What, then, could be more pitiable than such a life?
And how much anxiety comes from one’s own people, I mean subordinates. It is also true that the royal platform is always soaked with kindred blood. If you wish, I shall tell a little, and you will immediately know that this truly happens.
I shall speak especially of ancient events, though well preserved in memory, and of some that have happened in our own times.
It is said that one man, suspecting his wife of adultery, bound her naked to the mountains and gave her over to beasts, although she was already the mother of many kings by him. What kind of life do you think he lived? If he had not been wasting away from violent passion, he would not have used such punishment.
The same man also put his own son to death. In addition, his brother killed himself together with his children. It is also said that he killed his brother.
Again, one man took his own life when he was seized by a tyrant. Another killed his nephew, who had shared the kingdom with him, the very kingdom he himself had given him.
Another saw his wife perish from medicines. She was barren, and a certain wretched and poor woman, truly wretched and poor, hoped by her craft to provide the gift of God. By giving medicines, she destroyed the queen and perished with her.
Another afterward was killed by poisonous medicines. The cup for him was no longer drink, but death. His son, though he had committed no crime, had his eye put out because of fear for the future.
Another ended his life in a manner so pitiable that it is not even proper to say. Among later men, one was burned like a poor and wretched man, together with horses, houses, and all other things, while his wife was left a widow.
It is impossible to express what sorrows of life he was compelled to endure when he took up arms. And has not the one now reigning, from the time he was adorned with the diadem, been in labors, dangers, afflictions, griefs, calamities, and plots?
But the kingdom of heaven is not like this. With its acquisition come peace, life, joy, and gladness. This life, as I have said, cannot be without distress. If the royal condition, the most blessed in worldly matters, is full of such misfortunes, what shall we say of private conditions?
There are so many other evils that they cannot even be recounted. How many tales have arisen from this. Almost all tragedies performed on the stage are taken from kings. So are the myths, most of which are also borrowed from things that actually happened. For this reason they give pleasure.
Such are the feasts of Thyestes, for example, and the myth of how that whole house perished through misfortunes. But we know this from secular writings. If you wish, we shall also speak from Scripture.
Saul was the first to reign, but you know how he too perished after suffering countless calamities. After him came David, Solomon, Abijah, Hezekiah, and Hoshea likewise. For it is impossible to pass through the present life without affliction, without labors, and without sorrow.
But we do not grieve over what kings grieve over. We grieve over that from which we receive great benefit. “For godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted” (2 Cor 7:10).
Over this one must be sorrowful. Over this one must grieve. Over this one must be contrite. Thus Paul was contrite over those who sinned. Over them he wept. “Out of much affliction and anguish of heart,” he says, “I wrote to you with many tears” (2 Cor 2:4).
Since he had no reason to grieve over his own sins, he grieved over those of others. He grieved so much that he considered them his own. Others were made to stumble, and he burned. Others were weak, and he shared their weakness (2 Cor 11:29).
Such sorrow is good. It is better than every worldly joy. I prefer the one who mourns in this way to all people. Even the Lord Himself blesses such mourners, who are compassionate.
I do not admire Paul so much because he underwent dangers. Or rather, I admire him no less because of the calamities from which he died daily, than because of this: that he grieved for others.
This came from a soul that loved God and was full of love. It came from the love which Christ Himself desired. It came from brotherly and fatherly compassion, or rather from a compassion far greater than both.
One must have such a disposition. One must weep in this way. Such tears are filled with great gladness. Such lamentation is the condition of joy.
Do not say to me, “What benefit do my tears bring to those over whom I weep?” Even if we do not help those we mourn in the least, we shall certainly benefit ourselves.
Whoever grieves so much over the sins of others will grieve even more over his own. Whoever thus mourns for others will not leave his own transgressions without tears. More truly, he will not quickly sin at all.
But what is most terrible is this: although we have been commanded to weep in this way over those who sin, we show no repentance even for our own sins. On the contrary, perishing in iniquities, we do not reveal even the slightest sorrow.
We care about everything and think about everything more than about our transgressions. Therefore we rejoice with useless worldly joy, which quickly disappears and gives birth to countless griefs.
Let us then grieve with a sorrow that gives birth to joy. Let us not delight in a joy that gives birth to sorrow. Let us pour out tears that sow great delight. Let us not laugh with laughter that produces gnashing of teeth for us.
Let us be saddened with a sadness from which consolation comes. Let us not seek amusements from which great sorrow and pain are born. Let us labor a little on earth, so that we may taste unceasing gladness in heaven.
Let us subject ourselves to affliction in this corruptible life, so that in eternity we may receive rest. Let us not rejoice in this brief age, lest we sigh in eternity.
Do you not see how many grieve here over worldly things? Consider that you are one of them, and bear sorrow and pain, strengthened by hope for future blessings.
You are not better than Paul. You are not better than Peter. They never had rest, but spent their whole life in hunger, thirst, and nakedness. If you wish to receive the same things as they, why do you go by the opposite road?
If you wish to reach the city of which they were counted worthy, then go by the road that leads there. The road of pleasures does not lead there, but the road of affliction does. The first is broad, the latter narrow.
Let us go by this latter road, so that we may receive eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom be glory, dominion, and honor to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.