Chrysostom
Beloved of All
To pour out your heart for a suffering creature is no small thing, for it is a mark of that mercy which alone makes us truly human, and which is the very character of God. Yet let us not forget the order of His love: He who clothes the grass of the field and feeds the birds of the air has given us dominion over the animals, not to trample on them, but to exercise a gentle stewardship. Your grief for this cat is a prayer already rising, for nothing that suffers escapes His notice, and no tear shed in compassion is lost before Him. Therefore, ask boldly, as the blind men did who cried out and heard the question, “Believe ye that I am able to do this?” Faith is the root of every healing, whether of soul or body. Cry out with that same faith, and leave the outcome to His inscrutable will, for He often works through the hands of physicians and the remedies they give.
Yet in this very anxiety, do not let your own soul become dull, as one who has need of milk and not solid food. When the devil sees the law of God written in the heart, and the mind at peace even in a storm, he flees. Use this trial to write deeper the memory of His promises, to cling not to the health of a beloved animal, though that is a good thing, but to the unshakable hope of the Resurrection. For the irrational beasts share not in piety nor in the life of virtue; they live for this world alone, but you were made for eternity. If God hears your cry and restores your cat, give thanks and use the time well. If He takes it into His own care, accept it as an exercise in that long-suffering which stores up mercy for That Day. There is no sea so calm and safe as a soul that sails with prayer and patience, having Christ as its pilot.
While you tend her with anxious hands, do not forget the greater almsgiving of mercy toward your own soul and your neighbor. To be merciful with all diligence, giving medicine without harm, soothing pain without resentment, this is a work of love that quenches the fire of trial and brings a heavenly light. Let your heart be large, not only for the cat but for any who have wronged you, for whatever sins burden your conscience. In forgiving, we are forgiven; in showing mercy, we lay up mercy against the judgment. And when you kneel to plead for that small life, remember that the same Lord who notes the sparrow’s fall sees also your own infirmities and waits to heal them with a father’s hand. Do not despair, do not be over-exact in demanding a sign, but cast all your desperate cries into the lap of His lovingkindness. He who gave His Son for us will not refuse what is truly for our good. Pray, then, and as you pray, let your heart be lifted up from the creature to the Creator, and you shall find, whether in relief or in sorrow, a calm harbor for your soul.
Yet in this very anxiety, do not let your own soul become dull, as one who has need of milk and not solid food. When the devil sees the law of God written in the heart, and the mind at peace even in a storm, he flees. Use this trial to write deeper the memory of His promises, to cling not to the health of a beloved animal, though that is a good thing, but to the unshakable hope of the Resurrection. For the irrational beasts share not in piety nor in the life of virtue; they live for this world alone, but you were made for eternity. If God hears your cry and restores your cat, give thanks and use the time well. If He takes it into His own care, accept it as an exercise in that long-suffering which stores up mercy for That Day. There is no sea so calm and safe as a soul that sails with prayer and patience, having Christ as its pilot.
While you tend her with anxious hands, do not forget the greater almsgiving of mercy toward your own soul and your neighbor. To be merciful with all diligence, giving medicine without harm, soothing pain without resentment, this is a work of love that quenches the fire of trial and brings a heavenly light. Let your heart be large, not only for the cat but for any who have wronged you, for whatever sins burden your conscience. In forgiving, we are forgiven; in showing mercy, we lay up mercy against the judgment. And when you kneel to plead for that small life, remember that the same Lord who notes the sparrow’s fall sees also your own infirmities and waits to heal them with a father’s hand. Do not despair, do not be over-exact in demanding a sign, but cast all your desperate cries into the lap of His lovingkindness. He who gave His Son for us will not refuse what is truly for our good. Pray, then, and as you pray, let your heart be lifted up from the creature to the Creator, and you shall find, whether in relief or in sorrow, a calm harbor for your soul.
