John Chrysostom
There exists a dual thanksgiving in this context: one for God permitting trials to befall Him, and the other for not abandoning those in peril. Each aspect reflects divine grace, but surprisingly, the first holds equal weight and even surpasses the second, because while the latter rescues from trouble, the former enriches the soul with wisdom.
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If anyone questions, "Why did God allow them to endure such suffering?" let it be known that each righteous individual is uniquely rewarded for their tribulations; or that He permits their suffering to demonstrate His might in the world and to impart wisdom through their struggles. In the wilderness, the Israelites not only thrived but also "forsook God" (Deut. 32:15). Living carelessly is inherently detrimental! From the beginning, God instructed Adam that "in the sweat of your face shall you eat bread" (Gen. 3:19). Thus, to prevent them from developing vice through a life of ease, He allows them to face tribulations, which ultimately serves as a significant good. David recognized this when he proclaimed, "It is good for me that You have humbled me." If adversity is of great benefit to extraordinary individuals, it is even more so for us.
Let us examine tribulation in its own right. Consider a person who experiences unrestrained joy, overflowing with laughter. What could be more irrational, more disordered than this? Now reflect on someone who displays sorrow; what greater wisdom can be found than this? The Wise One indeed suggests, "Sorrow is better than laughter; for when the face is sad, the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" (Ecclesiastes 7:3-4). You may find these words amusing, yet contemplate the state of Adam in paradise versus his condition afterward; or Cain's persona prior to and following his crime. The merry soul is easily swept away by pleasures and becomes frivolous, lacking substance. Such individuals latch onto fantasies, cling tightly to superficial promises, and generate storms of thought within. Thus, one finds excessive laughter, unfounded joy, and endless chatter present.
Shall we move past others’ experiences and examine a saint’s life? Consider David. In his days of abundance and triumph, buoyed by victories and luxuries, he boldly declared, "I shall never be moved" (Psalms 29:7). Yet in trials, he spoke with wisdom, expressing, "But if he says, ‘I have no favor with you,’ behold, here I am; let him do to me what seems right to him" (2 Sam. 15:26). Mark the wisdom in his submission to God's will. He even advised Saul, "If it is God who has stirred you against me, let it be a fragrant offering to Him" (1 Sam. 26:19). Even amidst his struggles, he showed mercy to his adversaries, while later acting harshly toward friends who had wronged him (2 Sam. 11). Jacob, in distress, pleaded, "If God will provide for me bread to eat and clothing to wear" (Gen. 28:20). Noah's son, previously brash, became bold only after receiving assurance of safety (Gen. 9:22). In tribulation, Hezekiah clothed himself in sackcloth and humbled himself before the Lord, but in times of ease, his heart lifted in pride. Hence, Moses warns, "When you have eaten and are satisfied, take care that you do not forget the Lord" (Deuteronomy 6:11-12), for the path of indulgence is treacherous and leads to a forgetfulness of God.
During their hardships, the Israelites increased in number, yet once freed by God’s deliverance, they fell into ruin. But let us not dwell exclusively on ancient examples; let us reflect on our own lives. Many, when prosperous, become arrogant and hostile, but when their power wanes, they suddenly turn meek and humble, becoming aware of their frailty. David echoes this, stating, "Their pride consumes them, and their wickedness overflows as from a fountain" (Psalms 72:6-7). I present these thoughts to caution against the pursuit of indulgence.
Some might interject, "How then does Paul instruct us to rejoice always?" He did not merely say "rejoice," but he added "in the Lord" (Phil. 4:4). This is the highest form of joy. The apostles rejoiced in this joy; it is a joy rooted not in ease but in trials, persecutions, and tribulations, leading to a glorious conclusion. In contrast, worldly joy finds its source in pleasure but ends in sorrow. While I do not discourage rejoicing in the Lord—indeed, I urge it—the joy of the apostles emerged amid scourging and hardships; they sang praises while imprisoned, conveyed gratitude despite persecution, and preached even when stoned. This is the joy I wish to embrace; it originates in spiritual truths, not in earthly delights.
It is impossible for someone who delights in worldly affairs to find true joy in God. Those who take pleasure in worldly pursuits focus on wealth, luxury, status, power, and honor; conversely, those who find joy in God take pleasure in humiliation for His sake, in modesty, in fasting, and in humility. Reflect on the vast difference in their focuses! The person lacking joy here is also unacquainted with spiritual sorrow, while the one devoid of heartfelt sorrow lacks genuine joy in God. Truly, those who seek the pleasures of this world may wear the label of joy, but they ultimately dwell in sorrow.
Consider the myriad troubles that arise from arrogance: a soul tormented by pride, filled with enmity and jealousy, constantly ruminating on grievances. When insulted by a superior, such a person is aggrieved; if not exalted, they suffer internally. Meanwhile, the humble find contentment without desiring recognition. They rejoice in honor when it comes, but grieve not when overlooked, cherishing the absence of the burden of expectation. The first seeker of honor is often discontent despite receiving accolades, while the latter accepts acknowledgment with gratitude, whether abundant or scarce.
One who lives in luxury may seem to prosper, with wealth flowing freely, yet they remain haunted by the threat of loss and an uncertain future. Those accustomed to modest living, by contrast, enjoy tranquility and contentment, untroubled by the absence of extravagance, and delight in being free from the stress of uncertain outcomes. The dangers stemming from indulgence are well-documented, and yet it is of utmost importance to articulate them here. From excess springs a multitude of conflicts—both within the body and the soul—manifesting in health issues and calamities. However, these are not fruits of temperance. The result of moderation is supreme health and abundant blessings. The Wise One remarked, "A sound sleep comes from the moderation of the stomach" (Sir. 31:22).
Moderation is universally desired, while immoderation leads to destruction. For instance, overload a small flame with kindling, and it fails to burn brightly, producing only unwelcome smoke. Overburden a strong man, and he collapses beneath the weight. Likewise, overloading a vessel leads to shipwreck. The fruits of luxury bear chaos within, much like excessively weighted ships that throw both passengers and cargo into disarray. And what is most disgraceful, when the mouth is in such a state of shame, consider how dire the soul's condition must be—overwhelmed with confusion, casting forth guilt and distress.
The gluttonous accuse one another amidst their internal turmoil, where their storms persist beyond mere momentary outbursts, ensuing in fevers and other afflictions. Those who revel in luxury may appear joyful, bursting with health, living lavishly, yet their condition is a façade worthy of our tears. Who do we witness suffering from gout, carried on stretchers, bandaged and burdened? If they did not find my words offensive, I could name them. Some, however, appear healthy, for their lives are laced with not just indulgence but also labor. Show me even one person who indulges their appetites, remains idle, and enjoys good health. You will not find such a case. Even with countless doctors at their disposal, they cannot alleviate the ailments of those steeped in constant excess.
I offer this insight: not everything consumed translates to nourishment, for not all parts of food sustain life. The measure of food must be respected; allowing it to be fully digested leads to health, whereas excess breeds harm. To clarify, examine the components of bread: coarse grains, flour, and bran. If too much is fed to the millstone, chaos ensues. The same holds for wine—properly prepared and fermented, it transforms into glory, yet rushed preparation yields confusion. At sea, during violent storms, one sees fish struggle above, lost amidst turbulence, paralleling our own experiences of turmoil following indulgence.
Recognizing the dangers of excess, let us cease glorifying those who truly suffer and weep instead for those considered blessed, fostering a love for moderation. Do you not recognize the wisdom in the saying, "scarcity is the mother of health"? Not only physical health, but also mental wellbeing is nurtured through scarcity. Paul, the true physician, expresses a similar sentiment: "If we have food and clothing, we should be content" (1 Tim. 6:8). Let us heed his counsel, that we may thrive in health, through Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory, power, and honor with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.
The prophet endorses the rigorous discipline of the physician, acknowledging that such measures bring healing. He previously asserted, "Before my humiliation I sinned," and now affirms, "It is good for me that You have humbled me." Trials and tribulations serve as lessons and catalysts for transformation, and those who embrace these challenges with patience proclaim, "It is good for me that You have humbled me, that I may learn Your statutes."