Chrysostom
Beloved of All
Your cry for mercy from that hospital bed rises like the cry of the blind men by the roadside, and the Lord who stopped for them hears you. He does not ask for eloquent words, only the earnest plea of a soul that knows its need. That you desire to recover not merely for your own comfort but to become a blessing to those around you even now, this is already the work of the true Light that lighteth every man, shining into your heart and making your sickness itself a pulpit.
Do not think that healing is only for the body. The healings Christ performed were shouts to the world that the resurrection is real, that the true blessing lies not in length of days nor in going out and coming in without a limp, but in what awaits beyond. Jacob’s days were few and evil, yet the blessing was his, stored up in the world to come. So here, whether He restores your frame swiftly or permits the weakness to linger, He is working a spiritual blessing, teaching you to stand aloof from carnal comforts and cling to the things that cannot be shaken. The governor marvelled at Christ’s silence under accusation; when your body accuses you with pain and the mind frets over the uncertainty, the virtue He desires from you is that same patient silence of faith, which shouts louder than any complaint.
While you wait and pray, do not let those around you hear only your request for health. Let them see your earnestness, but also your readiness to say, “According to your faith be it unto you” in a voice that expects the verdict to come from the Father’s goodness, not the clock’s hand. You are already a blessing if you keep before their eyes the truth that this life is a vestibule, not the mansion. When a physician despairs of a body, we beg him to continue the treatment; how much more should we beg our own souls not to slacken? This trial is the medicine, and you may be the one blow that fells a tree of unbelief in a fellow patient. Even ten hearings seem fruitless, then one acts at last. So your patience, your quiet thanksgiving for small mercies, your refusal to murmur, these are alms distributed in the Gospel’s fulness, and they testify that He is risen and that we too shall rise. Let your sickness be a witness: He holds you, so hold fast to Him, and you will lack nothing, whether you walk out of those doors or walk into the arms of the Resurrection.
Do not think that healing is only for the body. The healings Christ performed were shouts to the world that the resurrection is real, that the true blessing lies not in length of days nor in going out and coming in without a limp, but in what awaits beyond. Jacob’s days were few and evil, yet the blessing was his, stored up in the world to come. So here, whether He restores your frame swiftly or permits the weakness to linger, He is working a spiritual blessing, teaching you to stand aloof from carnal comforts and cling to the things that cannot be shaken. The governor marvelled at Christ’s silence under accusation; when your body accuses you with pain and the mind frets over the uncertainty, the virtue He desires from you is that same patient silence of faith, which shouts louder than any complaint.
While you wait and pray, do not let those around you hear only your request for health. Let them see your earnestness, but also your readiness to say, “According to your faith be it unto you” in a voice that expects the verdict to come from the Father’s goodness, not the clock’s hand. You are already a blessing if you keep before their eyes the truth that this life is a vestibule, not the mansion. When a physician despairs of a body, we beg him to continue the treatment; how much more should we beg our own souls not to slacken? This trial is the medicine, and you may be the one blow that fells a tree of unbelief in a fellow patient. Even ten hearings seem fruitless, then one acts at last. So your patience, your quiet thanksgiving for small mercies, your refusal to murmur, these are alms distributed in the Gospel’s fulness, and they testify that He is risen and that we too shall rise. Let your sickness be a witness: He holds you, so hold fast to Him, and you will lack nothing, whether you walk out of those doors or walk into the arms of the Resurrection.
