“God did not look at this, but had compassion for such a great disaster…” (Saint John Chrysostom).
I have been reflecting on a short excerpt from a book called “A Year with the Church Fathers”. The excerpt came from the writings of Saint John Chrysostom and was recorded at page 19.
“Man threw away everything he had – his right to speak freely, his communion with God, his time in Paradise, his unclouded life – and went out naked, like a survivor from a shipwreck. But God received him and immediately clothed him, and taking him by the hand gradually led him to heaven. And yet the shipwreck was quite unforgivable. For this tempest was entirely due, not to the force of the winds, but to the carelessness of the sailor. Yet God did not look at this, but had compassion for such a great disaster… Why? Because, when no sadness or care or labour or toil or countless waves of desire assaulted our nature, it was overturned and fell. And just as criminals who sail the sea often drill through the ship with a small iron tool, and let the whole sea into the ship from below, so when the devil saw the ship of Adam (by which I mean his soul) filled with many good things, he came and drilled through it with his voice alone, as if it were an iron tool, and stole all his wealth and sank the ship itself. But God made the gain greater than the loss, and brought our nature to the royal throne.”
And I have been reflecting on these words of this Saint, because they are so reflective of my own life. You see, in my own life, I sin and that sin causes me terrible terrible suffering. For example, in a moment of weakness, selfishness, pride and anger, I might shout at someone who I love, or say something horrible to that same person. And later – when I am calm and stronger and less selfish and proud and angry – I will regret such an outburst as that. Later, when the “tempest” has passed, I will assess the damage caused by the shipwreck that I HAVE CAUSED by my own sinfulness, and lament the terrible mess that it has created…
And in those moments, after the storm has passed, and after the damage is done, then, when I am alone in the silence of my soul, then my Beloved comes to me and consoles me. There – in the midst of all the natural effects of my sinful nature, my Beloved comes to me and consoles me so that I do not feel pain.
And I have been thinking about that – because as this Saint said, “God did not look at this, but had compassion for such a great disaster…” and I hang my head in shame at the number of times my Beloved has come to comfort me after the storm… I hang my head in shame…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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