Chrysostom
Beloved of All
You have brought your need before the Lord, asking Him to incline the heart of your landlord toward you. This is fitting, for every good gift comes from above, and He holds the hearts of all in His hand. But as you seek favor from another, examine well your own heart. Have you made room for God there, or is it cluttered with earthly cares that choke out trust? When we pray for some temporal good, we often treat God as a merchant from whom we would buy a favor, but He is a physician. Enter His presence not to demand, but to receive the medicine He sees fit to give. If it is His will that you remain, no human obstinacy can bar the door. Yet if He in wisdom closes that door, will you kick against it? The present life is a dream, and its comforts pass quickly. What gain is it to keep a trailer and lose your soul to bitterness or anxiety?
I would not have you faint, but rather let this trial be the trainer that anoints you for greater things. When the landlord seems harsh, return not injury for injury, but overcome her by meekness. A soft answer breaks the bone of contention more surely than a sharp one, and you will keep your own spirit untroubled. The blow that strikes the heart through insult is more painful than any wound to the body, yet if you receive it in silence, the shame falls back upon the one who gives it. And while you wait, be busy about the one estate that never decays: gather the laborers on the land of your heart and build there a church for the Lord. Maintain a teacher, offer prayers, give a dowry of good works. For if you make provision for the flesh to fulfill its desires, you light a furnace that will consume your peace. But if you hunger and thirst after righteousness, He who feeds the ravens will not forget your needs.
Acknowledge any sin that may have crept in, for nothing so quenches the flame of prayer as an unconfessed fault. Remember continually your own weakness, and let the recollection of hell and judgment be to you a bitter medicine that cleanses away every lust. I do not say these things to frighten you without cause, but because I long to see you sail in safety, with the favoring gale of forbearance filling your sails. Whether you stay or go, let the Lord be your dwelling place, and you will find a mansion not made with hands.
I would not have you faint, but rather let this trial be the trainer that anoints you for greater things. When the landlord seems harsh, return not injury for injury, but overcome her by meekness. A soft answer breaks the bone of contention more surely than a sharp one, and you will keep your own spirit untroubled. The blow that strikes the heart through insult is more painful than any wound to the body, yet if you receive it in silence, the shame falls back upon the one who gives it. And while you wait, be busy about the one estate that never decays: gather the laborers on the land of your heart and build there a church for the Lord. Maintain a teacher, offer prayers, give a dowry of good works. For if you make provision for the flesh to fulfill its desires, you light a furnace that will consume your peace. But if you hunger and thirst after righteousness, He who feeds the ravens will not forget your needs.
Acknowledge any sin that may have crept in, for nothing so quenches the flame of prayer as an unconfessed fault. Remember continually your own weakness, and let the recollection of hell and judgment be to you a bitter medicine that cleanses away every lust. I do not say these things to frighten you without cause, but because I long to see you sail in safety, with the favoring gale of forbearance filling your sails. Whether you stay or go, let the Lord be your dwelling place, and you will find a mansion not made with hands.
