Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The tears you pour out for her soul are themselves a kind of mercy, a living sacrifice laid daily upon the altar of your heart, and I do not say this to soothe but to sharpen your hope. For godly grief, the grief that aches for another’s falling away, works a repentance that leaves no regret, and such grief the Lord catches in His hand as a precious offering. Yet grief and forgiveness, though they spring from love, must never be confused with excusing the sin that is destroying her. You forgive from the heart, as Christ from the cross, and that is right. But Christ also said to the woman taken in adultery, “Go and sin no more.” He did not say, “Go and continue, for I have forgiven.” He healed the wound and then sent her away with a new life. Your forgiveness is real, but her path is still a road of death unless she turns.
When you speak of asking for her a new heart and a new birth, you are touching the very mystery of the renewing of the Holy Ghost. You remember that I have often said: when a house is in ruins, no one props it up or patches the old walls; you tear it down to the foundation and build it anew. So God deals with souls. The laver of regeneration makes a man entirely new, as if freshly formed from the clay. But for those who after baptism have grown old again in sin, there is a second renewal through repentance, which shakes off the filth though it cannot always restore the first brightness. That is the work you beg for your wife, and you do well to fast and pray and plead, for none is beyond the hand of the Physician while breath remains. Yet mark this well: repentance is not a passing fear or a few soft words; it is the tearing out of the old affection, the crucifixion of the very desire that led her away. Without that, she merely changes her garments but keeps the corpse beneath. Pray for her, yes, and let your life be a gospel she can read, as a living epistle written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God. But do not make such a peace with her wandering as to call the bond of marriage whole while she lies in another man’s bed. The apostle grants no such covering. Adultery is a sword that severs the one-flesh covenant; it is not our severity but the very nature of the union that declares it broken.
The desertion clause you mention, as well as the word of our Lord, stands not as a command to cast her away but as a release for the innocent when the other has already departed into a far country of the heart. If she is indeed dead to the fear of God, then you are not bound to cling to a corpse. Yet I hear in your cry a true hope that she may yet live. So then, walk carefully. As I have often warned the faithful: when one stands, hearing that there can be no renewal for a fall deliberately prolonged, he stands more warily. But when one has already fallen, we do not break the bruised reed by speaking only of the fall’s irreparable shame. We hold out the medicine, that he may rise. So to her, by your prayers and by any messenger God sends, hold out the sheer mercy of the new birth. But for your own soul, stand firm on the awful fear that if she hardens herself beyond recovery, no sacrifice of yours can force her entrance into the kingdom. The soul that will not be born again cannot see the kingdom of God, no matter how many tears are shed on the threshold.
Therefore, what remains? Continue the holy discipline. Fasting, as you have learned from the ancient voices of the church, gives wings to prayer. Alms, contrition, a heart humbled to the dust, these are the countervailing medicines the Physician has left us. But let the petition always breathe with the Lord’s own submission: nevertheless, not my will but Yours be done. For it may be that in the inscrutable wisdom of God her return is not granted, and you must instead be content to be a living epistle of patience. Yet do not despair; the One who commanded light to shine out of darkness is able to shine in her heart and give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. If He opens, no one shuts. If He speaks the word, the stone becomes flesh. Until that hour, protect your own mind from bitterness, and let your forgiveness remain as pure as when you first offered it, a fragrance rising from the altar of your heart. But do not make yourself a partner in her sin by treating the marriage token as still intact while she tramples on the covenant; that is not kindness but a cruel encouragement to remain in the old death. Wait on the Lord, but wait in truth, and may the God of all grace Himself grant her repentance unto life and cover the multitude of sins through the saving work that alone can raise the dead.
When you speak of asking for her a new heart and a new birth, you are touching the very mystery of the renewing of the Holy Ghost. You remember that I have often said: when a house is in ruins, no one props it up or patches the old walls; you tear it down to the foundation and build it anew. So God deals with souls. The laver of regeneration makes a man entirely new, as if freshly formed from the clay. But for those who after baptism have grown old again in sin, there is a second renewal through repentance, which shakes off the filth though it cannot always restore the first brightness. That is the work you beg for your wife, and you do well to fast and pray and plead, for none is beyond the hand of the Physician while breath remains. Yet mark this well: repentance is not a passing fear or a few soft words; it is the tearing out of the old affection, the crucifixion of the very desire that led her away. Without that, she merely changes her garments but keeps the corpse beneath. Pray for her, yes, and let your life be a gospel she can read, as a living epistle written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God. But do not make such a peace with her wandering as to call the bond of marriage whole while she lies in another man’s bed. The apostle grants no such covering. Adultery is a sword that severs the one-flesh covenant; it is not our severity but the very nature of the union that declares it broken.
The desertion clause you mention, as well as the word of our Lord, stands not as a command to cast her away but as a release for the innocent when the other has already departed into a far country of the heart. If she is indeed dead to the fear of God, then you are not bound to cling to a corpse. Yet I hear in your cry a true hope that she may yet live. So then, walk carefully. As I have often warned the faithful: when one stands, hearing that there can be no renewal for a fall deliberately prolonged, he stands more warily. But when one has already fallen, we do not break the bruised reed by speaking only of the fall’s irreparable shame. We hold out the medicine, that he may rise. So to her, by your prayers and by any messenger God sends, hold out the sheer mercy of the new birth. But for your own soul, stand firm on the awful fear that if she hardens herself beyond recovery, no sacrifice of yours can force her entrance into the kingdom. The soul that will not be born again cannot see the kingdom of God, no matter how many tears are shed on the threshold.
Therefore, what remains? Continue the holy discipline. Fasting, as you have learned from the ancient voices of the church, gives wings to prayer. Alms, contrition, a heart humbled to the dust, these are the countervailing medicines the Physician has left us. But let the petition always breathe with the Lord’s own submission: nevertheless, not my will but Yours be done. For it may be that in the inscrutable wisdom of God her return is not granted, and you must instead be content to be a living epistle of patience. Yet do not despair; the One who commanded light to shine out of darkness is able to shine in her heart and give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. If He opens, no one shuts. If He speaks the word, the stone becomes flesh. Until that hour, protect your own mind from bitterness, and let your forgiveness remain as pure as when you first offered it, a fragrance rising from the altar of your heart. But do not make yourself a partner in her sin by treating the marriage token as still intact while she tramples on the covenant; that is not kindness but a cruel encouragement to remain in the old death. Wait on the Lord, but wait in truth, and may the God of all grace Himself grant her repentance unto life and cover the multitude of sins through the saving work that alone can raise the dead.
