Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The sorrow you bear is not like the sorrow of the world that leads to death, but a grief that can work repentance, if you let it drive you to the mercy of God. You mourn for a soul, and such mourning is blessed, for it shares in the grief of Christ over those who would not be gathered. Yet let this pain not drown you in bitterness, but be turned into prayer, tears, and works of mercy. Fasting, as you have embraced, gives wings to prayer indeed, but remember that the true fast is from sin and from demanding your own will over another’s.
You stretch out your hand to one who has torn the marriage bond, that covenant ordained by God. The adulteress has done a dissolving of what Heaven joined, and she has not yet repented. That is a fearful thing, for to lie to the Holy Spirit, as Ananias did, is to court destruction. But you are not called to force return, only to stand as a living epistle, your life a quiet testimony. If she will not read your texts or receive your voice, let your conduct read aloud without words, chaste, patient, merciful, so that if she ever turns, she may remember the fragrance of Christ in you.
Do not seek to be loosed from the bond. The Apostle does not permit you to initiate divorce, even when the other has shattered the bed. You are bound to a wife, and while she yet lives, you are not free to seek another; remain as one who attends upon the Lord without distraction, using this sorrowful leisure for continual prayer and almsgiving. Yet understand that her salvation is not in your power alone. Each must have hope in Christ through her own repentance, after the lovingkindness of God. So continue to beat upon the doors of mercy with groans and with the short word of faith that holds salvation: confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead.
Above all, guard yourself. Let your sorrow be the godly sort that makes you vigilant over your own heart. The nearness of death, the uncertainty of life, should soften all stubbornness, hers and yours. If you would see her heart of stone replaced, you must first offer your own heart daily to the chisel of repentance. The King’s heart is in God’s hand, and hers is no less, but He moves hearts not by compulsion but by the drawing of light. So shine, not by harsh rebuke from afar, but by such a life that she may see and fear and at last turn. Pray without growing weary, for the Lord wills that none perish. If she perishes, it is not because He did not wait for her. And if she rises, it will be not by your hand but by the new birth that comes from above.
You stretch out your hand to one who has torn the marriage bond, that covenant ordained by God. The adulteress has done a dissolving of what Heaven joined, and she has not yet repented. That is a fearful thing, for to lie to the Holy Spirit, as Ananias did, is to court destruction. But you are not called to force return, only to stand as a living epistle, your life a quiet testimony. If she will not read your texts or receive your voice, let your conduct read aloud without words, chaste, patient, merciful, so that if she ever turns, she may remember the fragrance of Christ in you.
Do not seek to be loosed from the bond. The Apostle does not permit you to initiate divorce, even when the other has shattered the bed. You are bound to a wife, and while she yet lives, you are not free to seek another; remain as one who attends upon the Lord without distraction, using this sorrowful leisure for continual prayer and almsgiving. Yet understand that her salvation is not in your power alone. Each must have hope in Christ through her own repentance, after the lovingkindness of God. So continue to beat upon the doors of mercy with groans and with the short word of faith that holds salvation: confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead.
Above all, guard yourself. Let your sorrow be the godly sort that makes you vigilant over your own heart. The nearness of death, the uncertainty of life, should soften all stubbornness, hers and yours. If you would see her heart of stone replaced, you must first offer your own heart daily to the chisel of repentance. The King’s heart is in God’s hand, and hers is no less, but He moves hearts not by compulsion but by the drawing of light. So shine, not by harsh rebuke from afar, but by such a life that she may see and fear and at last turn. Pray without growing weary, for the Lord wills that none perish. If she perishes, it is not because He did not wait for her. And if she rises, it will be not by your hand but by the new birth that comes from above.
