Chrysostom
Beloved of All
You bring before the church a double affliction: your mother’s body weakened by the wasting fire of diabetes and that fungal corruption in her lungs, and your father beset from head to foot, his eyes failing, his head throbbing, a trouble in the urinary tract, the swelling of his feet, and the turbulence of his blood. This is a heavy load, and one can see the weight of it in your words. The very fact that you lay this before the church is good, for as I have often said, prayer is a great weapon, and we are always in need of it, if we think rightly.
Yet this is no light matter, simply to ask. Hear what I have said about the earnestness shown by those who sought healing from the Lord: they did not merely approach Him, but with loud cries, alleging nothing else but “mercy.” That is the pattern for you now. Cry out for mercy, not as though issuing a list of demands to a servant, but as a suppliant who knows that health comes from the hand of God alone. Do not let your prayers become perfunctory. There is a danger that in assembling this catalog of ailments, you might think the work is done by naming them. But you yourself must be on the alert. If we sleep, the help of others will profit us nothing, but even with this we perish.
Do not misunderstand me. I do not say, “What need have I of the prayer of the church?” God forbid! Paul himself did not say that, nor did Peter, for whom earnest prayer was made by the whole church. But I am saying that you cannot simply delegate this to others while your own soul remains slack. There is war in the marketplace; the affairs of every day are a fight, a tempest and a storm. And the sickroom is the front line of that war. Your father and mother need favorable winds to sail through the length of these days without shipwreck. Therefore, you have especially need of prayer early and by night. Before the morning dawn, make God propitious by supplication. Go forth to your duties carrying them before the throne of grace with your own voice, not just sending this message.
And there is another thing, a harder saying, but I must speak it. You ask for health, and rightly so, for we are not called to pretend that sickness is a trifle. But when you pray for it, do not fall into the manner of those who think God is our debtor. Remember what I have said about the very prayer of our Lord at the tomb of Lazarus. He lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard Me.” He needed no prayer, for His will and the Father’s are one. Why then did He pray? For the sake of the people standing by, that they might believe.
Let this be your foundation. When you plead for your father’s eyesight and your mother’s lungs, do so that those standing by, your parents themselves, your household, might see the goodness of God and believe that He is the one who sends relief. The end is not merely a span of painless years, but that the fullness of the times might be realized in their lives, that they might not perish, but be rescued. If they are restored, it is so that they might serve Him with greater alertness. If, in His inscrutable wisdom, the healing tarries, do not accuse God of not hearing; He heareth always. Instead, let the affliction itself become a loud cry for mercy, tearing away the sloth that clings to us all.
Guard your heart against a dangerous thought I have often warned against. When you see your father’s body swelling and his head hurting, and you do not see an instant remedy, do not let the devil suggest, “He is an impostor; this prayer is in vain.” Some will say this of the poor and the sick who cry out. Do not be such a one to your own prayers. Do not give up and accuse the promise of God. Stand firm. Your part is the earnest cry; God’s part is the answer, in His way, in His time.
So pray, and do not become dull. Pray for your mother and father with all the vigilance of a soul that knows it stands before the Judge and the Physician. But pray not as one who makes an unlawful request against enemies, or for mere earthly comfort alone, but for the one great mercy: that in their sickness and in their hoped-for health, God would be glorified, and that they, and you with them, might not become too slothful regarding the salvation of your souls. For what does it profit a man if his body is made whole while his soul remains sick? That is the true shipwreck.
Let your prayer be this: “Lord, have mercy,” and mean it with a waking heart. Then, whether they are granted renewed strength or called to bear witness through weakness, you will have secured the only healing that finally matters.
Yet this is no light matter, simply to ask. Hear what I have said about the earnestness shown by those who sought healing from the Lord: they did not merely approach Him, but with loud cries, alleging nothing else but “mercy.” That is the pattern for you now. Cry out for mercy, not as though issuing a list of demands to a servant, but as a suppliant who knows that health comes from the hand of God alone. Do not let your prayers become perfunctory. There is a danger that in assembling this catalog of ailments, you might think the work is done by naming them. But you yourself must be on the alert. If we sleep, the help of others will profit us nothing, but even with this we perish.
Do not misunderstand me. I do not say, “What need have I of the prayer of the church?” God forbid! Paul himself did not say that, nor did Peter, for whom earnest prayer was made by the whole church. But I am saying that you cannot simply delegate this to others while your own soul remains slack. There is war in the marketplace; the affairs of every day are a fight, a tempest and a storm. And the sickroom is the front line of that war. Your father and mother need favorable winds to sail through the length of these days without shipwreck. Therefore, you have especially need of prayer early and by night. Before the morning dawn, make God propitious by supplication. Go forth to your duties carrying them before the throne of grace with your own voice, not just sending this message.
And there is another thing, a harder saying, but I must speak it. You ask for health, and rightly so, for we are not called to pretend that sickness is a trifle. But when you pray for it, do not fall into the manner of those who think God is our debtor. Remember what I have said about the very prayer of our Lord at the tomb of Lazarus. He lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard Me.” He needed no prayer, for His will and the Father’s are one. Why then did He pray? For the sake of the people standing by, that they might believe.
Let this be your foundation. When you plead for your father’s eyesight and your mother’s lungs, do so that those standing by, your parents themselves, your household, might see the goodness of God and believe that He is the one who sends relief. The end is not merely a span of painless years, but that the fullness of the times might be realized in their lives, that they might not perish, but be rescued. If they are restored, it is so that they might serve Him with greater alertness. If, in His inscrutable wisdom, the healing tarries, do not accuse God of not hearing; He heareth always. Instead, let the affliction itself become a loud cry for mercy, tearing away the sloth that clings to us all.
Guard your heart against a dangerous thought I have often warned against. When you see your father’s body swelling and his head hurting, and you do not see an instant remedy, do not let the devil suggest, “He is an impostor; this prayer is in vain.” Some will say this of the poor and the sick who cry out. Do not be such a one to your own prayers. Do not give up and accuse the promise of God. Stand firm. Your part is the earnest cry; God’s part is the answer, in His way, in His time.
So pray, and do not become dull. Pray for your mother and father with all the vigilance of a soul that knows it stands before the Judge and the Physician. But pray not as one who makes an unlawful request against enemies, or for mere earthly comfort alone, but for the one great mercy: that in their sickness and in their hoped-for health, God would be glorified, and that they, and you with them, might not become too slothful regarding the salvation of your souls. For what does it profit a man if his body is made whole while his soul remains sick? That is the true shipwreck.
Let your prayer be this: “Lord, have mercy,” and mean it with a waking heart. Then, whether they are granted renewed strength or called to bear witness through weakness, you will have secured the only healing that finally matters.
