Chrysostom
Beloved
There is a sleep that comes from illness and pain, when the body is so worn down that rest itself becomes a torment. I understand this deep weariness and will pray earnestly that God grant you swift relief from infection, that He calm the aches, and that He restore to you the gift of peaceful sleep. For sleep is a medicine He has woven into our very nature, a kindness given even against our will, to soothe the toil-worn frame.
But listen carefully. There is another sleep far more dangerous than the sleeplessness you now endure. It is the sleep of the soul, a drowsiness that makes us see phantoms instead of reality, that makes us inactive toward virtue. The anxieties of this world can drive away the body's rest, as you are learning, but they can also lull the spirit into a deeper slumber, where one ignores God and clutches at fleeting things. I ask you: while you lie awake, has your mind been fixed on Christ, or has it been chasing the dreams of this life, the cares that pierce you like thorns? For sometimes God permits the body to suffer, so that the soul may be roused from its stupor, to watch and be sober. To be sober is the very intensity of watchfulness.
I have a command to speak truth that may give pain, not willingly, but on compulsion, because your soul's safety is at stake. Do not simply beg for the removal of the thorn without asking what weed in your soul may need pulling up by the root. Is there some carnal lust, some love of riches, some pride that has brought on this drunkenness of the soul? For it is often in such a state that we lose our firm footing and are overtaken by numberless dangers. And yet, do not despair. The good Shepherd needs no one to arouse Him to His duty; He lays down His life for the sheep. He who neither slumbers nor sleeps has been watching over you. The very pain you feel may be His merciful hand, preventing a deathly sleep from overtaking you entirely.
Take courage. Bring your body’s sickness before the Physician of souls, but bring also a spirit ready to be searched and cleansed. I will pray that the infection and pain depart quickly, that sleep returns as a gentle solace, and that in this trial you find yourself not cast down, but standing steadfast and unmovable, with the eyes of your soul wide open to the things that are real, the heavenly things that abide.
But listen carefully. There is another sleep far more dangerous than the sleeplessness you now endure. It is the sleep of the soul, a drowsiness that makes us see phantoms instead of reality, that makes us inactive toward virtue. The anxieties of this world can drive away the body's rest, as you are learning, but they can also lull the spirit into a deeper slumber, where one ignores God and clutches at fleeting things. I ask you: while you lie awake, has your mind been fixed on Christ, or has it been chasing the dreams of this life, the cares that pierce you like thorns? For sometimes God permits the body to suffer, so that the soul may be roused from its stupor, to watch and be sober. To be sober is the very intensity of watchfulness.
I have a command to speak truth that may give pain, not willingly, but on compulsion, because your soul's safety is at stake. Do not simply beg for the removal of the thorn without asking what weed in your soul may need pulling up by the root. Is there some carnal lust, some love of riches, some pride that has brought on this drunkenness of the soul? For it is often in such a state that we lose our firm footing and are overtaken by numberless dangers. And yet, do not despair. The good Shepherd needs no one to arouse Him to His duty; He lays down His life for the sheep. He who neither slumbers nor sleeps has been watching over you. The very pain you feel may be His merciful hand, preventing a deathly sleep from overtaking you entirely.
Take courage. Bring your body’s sickness before the Physician of souls, but bring also a spirit ready to be searched and cleansed. I will pray that the infection and pain depart quickly, that sleep returns as a gentle solace, and that in this trial you find yourself not cast down, but standing steadfast and unmovable, with the eyes of your soul wide open to the things that are real, the heavenly things that abide.
