Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The cry for a sound knee and leg ascends, yet the question marks trembling after the Amen betray a heart not fully persuaded. You have heard that He is the Healer, as the disciples heard He would rise, but like them, the manner and the speed remain a strangeness to the mind, and you cling earnestly to the hope while doubt clings to you. This is not unexpected. Even Thomas, hearing the sure testimony of his brethren, believed in part and in part did not believe, for the thing seems too wonderful. Yet it is into this very fracture that the light must enter.
Why is the finger so quick to point at a joint or a sinew, while the soul’s limp goes unobserved? The Apostle would have us flee from a far greater sickness. The wounds that truly stink and corrupt are not of the body but of the heart. Avarice, a boiling wrath, the clever rapine of daily life, the secret love of worldly things, these are the putrid sores that make a man filthy before God. To demand a bright and shining garment for the flesh while the inward parts are clothed in such rottenness is to be like the foolish virgins, busy about the oil that fails. You ask for the right knee to be loosed, but is your life moving rightly? Is your walk with your neighbor swift to mercy, or stiff with judgment? The true freedom He speaks of is not, first of all, felt in the joints, but in the soul unbound from sin. Show me a life that shines, a life that acts as salt to a putrefying world, and behold the only testimony that silences the enemy.
Yet, let no one quench the Spirit’s flicker by despising this cry altogether, for the Apostle commands, Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. Test this very petition. If it is born merely of a love for ease, that is an evil from which you must abstain. But if this bodily thorn has become a schoolmaster, exercising your senses through continual hearing of God’s promises, then even the pain serves a right purpose. Did not the disciples, in the storm, rouse the Master while He slept? They knew He could rebuke the wind when awake, but knew not yet that He commands all even in His silence. You know He can heal with a word; will you believe He heals by a delay? The day of battle calls, and the arms He gives are not of steel but of light. Do not fear the yoke of enduring this trial, for it is light. Learn from the Master’s own meekness in suffering, and you will find, perhaps before the knee is straightened, a rest for your souls that no bodily ailment can steal away.
Why is the finger so quick to point at a joint or a sinew, while the soul’s limp goes unobserved? The Apostle would have us flee from a far greater sickness. The wounds that truly stink and corrupt are not of the body but of the heart. Avarice, a boiling wrath, the clever rapine of daily life, the secret love of worldly things, these are the putrid sores that make a man filthy before God. To demand a bright and shining garment for the flesh while the inward parts are clothed in such rottenness is to be like the foolish virgins, busy about the oil that fails. You ask for the right knee to be loosed, but is your life moving rightly? Is your walk with your neighbor swift to mercy, or stiff with judgment? The true freedom He speaks of is not, first of all, felt in the joints, but in the soul unbound from sin. Show me a life that shines, a life that acts as salt to a putrefying world, and behold the only testimony that silences the enemy.
Yet, let no one quench the Spirit’s flicker by despising this cry altogether, for the Apostle commands, Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. Test this very petition. If it is born merely of a love for ease, that is an evil from which you must abstain. But if this bodily thorn has become a schoolmaster, exercising your senses through continual hearing of God’s promises, then even the pain serves a right purpose. Did not the disciples, in the storm, rouse the Master while He slept? They knew He could rebuke the wind when awake, but knew not yet that He commands all even in His silence. You know He can heal with a word; will you believe He heals by a delay? The day of battle calls, and the arms He gives are not of steel but of light. Do not fear the yoke of enduring this trial, for it is light. Learn from the Master’s own meekness in suffering, and you will find, perhaps before the knee is straightened, a rest for your souls that no bodily ailment can steal away.
