Chrysostom
Beloved of All
They call it a death, but let us call it what the Lord calls it: a sleep. The tyranny of death has been destroyed by death itself, and for those in Christ, to fall asleep is not to perish but to await the resurrection. Your friend’s husband has not vanished into nothing; he rests. And her widowhood, if she will embrace it with patience and chastity, is not a shame but a crown. The desolate widow who trusts in the Lord, St. Paul calls her blessed, for she has the Father of orphans and the Judge of widows as her defender. Let her not mourn as one without hope, but as one who knows that affliction, borne well, makes the soul purer than the sky.
Yet I hear that she lacks sleep, and that she needs people to speak with, and practical and financial help. These are not small things. Even the most watchful soul, when newly smitten, finds the body weak and the mind tossed. Night is given to us as a medicine for grief, but sorrow can drive away sleep. Therefore, let her not be ashamed to seek help. The Church rose up in the night to pray, let the Church now rise up for her. You who have brought this request, be the hands of Christ. Visit her. Bring her meals. Arrange for the church to assist with her financial need. Do not merely speak; act.
But let her also not depend solely on the prayers and aid of others. I have said before that if we sleep, the help of others profits us nothing; but if we wake, we shall not even need it. Let her, in her solitude, turn to God. The darkness that now frightens her, let her contemplate it with awe. When night comes and sleep flees, let her rise, look upon the stars, and behold the profound repose of God’s household. Let her sing hymns with a broken heart, for nothing makes a soul more watchful and alive than affliction not above measure. Let her speak to those who can witness to the Resurrection, not those who merely mourn. And let her remember: He who endured death overcame it, so that death is now but a passage. The demon of despair is contemptible; the curse is extinguished. She is not alone, for Christ dwells with the widow who trusts in Him.
Yet I hear that she lacks sleep, and that she needs people to speak with, and practical and financial help. These are not small things. Even the most watchful soul, when newly smitten, finds the body weak and the mind tossed. Night is given to us as a medicine for grief, but sorrow can drive away sleep. Therefore, let her not be ashamed to seek help. The Church rose up in the night to pray, let the Church now rise up for her. You who have brought this request, be the hands of Christ. Visit her. Bring her meals. Arrange for the church to assist with her financial need. Do not merely speak; act.
But let her also not depend solely on the prayers and aid of others. I have said before that if we sleep, the help of others profits us nothing; but if we wake, we shall not even need it. Let her, in her solitude, turn to God. The darkness that now frightens her, let her contemplate it with awe. When night comes and sleep flees, let her rise, look upon the stars, and behold the profound repose of God’s household. Let her sing hymns with a broken heart, for nothing makes a soul more watchful and alive than affliction not above measure. Let her speak to those who can witness to the Resurrection, not those who merely mourn. And let her remember: He who endured death overcame it, so that death is now but a passage. The demon of despair is contemptible; the curse is extinguished. She is not alone, for Christ dwells with the widow who trusts in Him.
