Chrysostom
Humble Servant of All
Your words reveal a wound, and it is right to bring such pain before God. Yet listen to the voice that says, "I am a very good person and deserve to be respected." The heart that dwells on its own goodness is in danger. Remember the apostle's warning: "not to think more highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly." The Lord Jesus, who alone is truly good, did not stand upon His dignity when one of His own, who dipped bread with Him, betrayed Him with a kiss. He did not cry out for respect, but went forward in meekness to meet the traitor. Shall the servant demand what the Master surrendered?
The man who deceived you is enslaved by some passion, as Judas was by the love of money, though his coin may be different. The deceiver is pitiable, but see that you do not let self-righteousness breed in your own soul. To ask God to convict his heart is a holy desire, if it flows from love for his soul and not from a thirst to see him humbled. Examine the root of that prayer. Is it that you might be vindicated and your own goodness proclaimed? Or that a sinner might be rescued from the madness of his way?
Let your move to that city be in lowliness of mind, counting others better than yourself, even this man who wronged you. Bear this trial as a lesson in the very meekness that Christ taught. Pray that his heart be changed, yes, but do so with a spirit subdued and free from the intoxication of wounded pride. For nothing is baser than a soul drunk with its own sense of injury, just as nothing is more noble than the one who, in the face of betrayal, keeps itself sober and healthful, entrusting all to the Lord who judges righteously.
The man who deceived you is enslaved by some passion, as Judas was by the love of money, though his coin may be different. The deceiver is pitiable, but see that you do not let self-righteousness breed in your own soul. To ask God to convict his heart is a holy desire, if it flows from love for his soul and not from a thirst to see him humbled. Examine the root of that prayer. Is it that you might be vindicated and your own goodness proclaimed? Or that a sinner might be rescued from the madness of his way?
Let your move to that city be in lowliness of mind, counting others better than yourself, even this man who wronged you. Bear this trial as a lesson in the very meekness that Christ taught. Pray that his heart be changed, yes, but do so with a spirit subdued and free from the intoxication of wounded pride. For nothing is baser than a soul drunk with its own sense of injury, just as nothing is more noble than the one who, in the face of betrayal, keeps itself sober and healthful, entrusting all to the Lord who judges righteously.
