Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
To what extent may prayer be offered for the incorrigible, and spiritually dead?
FOR such an one, says John the Apostle, I do not say that any one shall pray. But sayest thou, O Apostle, that no one may hope? Surely he who loves that man may groan. He ventures not to pray, he need not forbear to weep. What is this that I say—that perchance there remains the resource of hope, where prayer has no place? Take an instance of one who believes and hopes, yet does not pray. Lord, she says, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. (John 11:21). What mighty faith to believe that by His presence the Lord could have prevented death. But what comes next? It is inconceivable that she should doubt that He whom she believed could have kept him alive, was unable to raise him from the dead. But now, says she, I know that whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee. (John 11:22). Then when He asks where they had laid him, she replies, Come and see. (John 11:34). Why dost thou stop there? O Martha, thou dost afford to us ample evidence of thy faith; but, as it is so great, why dost thou hesitate? Come, sayest thou, and see. Why, if thou art not without hope, dost not thou go further and say, “and raise him up”? If, on the other hand, thou art in despair, why givest thou the Master unreasonable trouble? Is it perchance that faith sometimes obtains that for which we dare not pray? Then as He approaches the corpse thou dost object to His coming near, and sayest, Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he hath been dead four days. Was this said in despair, or in pretence? In somewhat the same sense the Lord Himself after His Resurrection made as though he would go further (Luke 24:28), while His intention was to remain with the disciples. O ye holy women, intimate friends of Christ, if ye love your brother why do ye not appeal to the compassion of Him of whose power and pity ye cannot entertain a doubt? Their answer is, “We pray all the better for not uttering a prayer, we trust the more completely for concealing our confidence. We show our faith and suppress our feelings. He who has no need of any information Himself knows what we desire. We indeed know that He can do all things; but a miracle so great, so unprecedented, though it is within His power, far surpasses anything that in our insignificance we deserve. It is enough for us to have afforded scope for his power and an opportunity for His pity and we prefer patiently to await His will than daringly to demand that which it may not be His pleasure to give. And finally our modesty may perhaps obtain for us something more than we deserve.”
And I observe that Peter wept after his serious fall, but I do not hear that he prayed. Yet I have no doubt about his pardon.
Learn further from the Mother of the Lord how to have full faith in the marvelous and in the fullness of faith to preserve modesty. Learn to adorn faith with modesty and to avoid presumption. They have no wine (John 2:3), says she. With what brevity, with what reverence she made a suggestion on a matter in which she felt a kindly anxiety. And that you may learn in similar circumstances rather to heave a sympathetic sigh than to venture to make a direct request, she concealed her eager earnestness under a shade of shyness, and modestly refrained from expressing the confidence she felt in prayer. She did not come boldly forward with a clear request, and say straight out before every one “I appeal to thee, my son: the wine has run short, the guests are annoyed, the bridegroom is dismayed—show what thou canst do.” But although as her breast was burning with these and many other thoughts, she might have expressed her feelings warmly, yet the devout Mother quietly approached her mighty Son, not to test His power but to discover His will. They have no wine, says she. How could she better have combined modesty and confidence? There was no lack of faith in her devotedness, of seriousness in her voice, or of earnestness in her desire. She, however, though she was His Mother, waived the claims of kinship, and did not venture to ask for a miraculous supply of wine. With what face, then, can I, a common slave, to whom it is a high honour to be in the service at once of the Son and of the Mother, presume to ask for the life of one who has been dead for four days?
It is also recorded in the Gospel that two blind men had sight given or restored to them—one the sight which he had lost, the other that which he had never possessed—for one had become blind, the other had been so born. But the one who had lost his sight earned marvelous mercy by piteous and persistent prayer, while the one who was born blind received from his divine enlightener a yet more merciful and more marvelous benefit without any previous petition from himself. To him it was afterwards said, Thy faith hath made thee whole. (Luke 28:42). I also read of the raising of two persons who had lately died—and of a third one who had been dead for four days; but only the one who was still lying in her father’s house was thus raised at his prayer—the other two were restored by a great and unexpected manifestation of mercy.
So if, in like manner, it should happen (which may God avert) that any one of our brethren should meet not bodily but spiritual death; as long as he shall be with us, I, sinner that I am, will persistently assail the Saviour with my prayers and with those of the brethren. If he revives, we shall have gained our brother; but if we do not deserve to be heeded and the time comes when he cannot endure those who are alive, or be endured by them, but must be carried out for burial, I go on faithfully with my mourning, though I cannot pray with so much confidence. I dare not say openly, “Lord raise up our dead brother,” but with anxious heart and inward trembling I cease not to cry out. If by any chance at all the Lord shall listen to the desire of the poor, his ear will heed the readiness of their hearts. And there is that saying, Wilt thou show wonders to the dead? or shall physicians raise to life and give praise to thee? (Ps. 88:10; 878:11, Vulg.) and concerning him who has been dead four days. Shall anyone in the sepulcher declare thy mercy; and thy truth in destruction? (Ps. 88:10; 87:12, Vulg.). Meanwhile it is possible that the Saviour may be pleased to meet us unforeseen and unexpectedly, and moved by the tears, not by the prayers of the bearers, to restore the dead man to those who live, or actually to recall from among the dead one who is already buried. But I should describe as dead the man who by excusing his sins, has already come down to the eighth degree. For praise perisheth from the dead as from one who does not exist. But after the tenth degree, which is third from the eighth, he is already being carried out into liberty to sin, when he is expelled from the monastic community. But after he has passed the fourth degree he is rightly said to be “four days dead,” and when he falls into the fifth degree of habitual sin he is already buried. But God forbid that we should cease to pray in our hearts for such even as these—though we do not venture to do so openly, as Paul also mourned for those whom he knew to have died impenitent. For although they shut themselves out from our united prayers, they cannot altogether do so from their effects. They should nevertheless realize the great danger which those incur whom the Church, which prays confidently for Jews, heretics and heathen, dares not to mention in her worship. For when on Good Friday prayer is expressly offered for certain wicked persons, no mention is made of those who are excommunicated.
You may perhaps say, brother Godfrey, that in thus describing the degrees of pride instead of those of humility, I seem to have gone beyond your request and my own tardy promise. To which my answer is that I was unable to teach anything but what I had learned. I did not think it seemly on my part to speak of an ascent, since I am aware that my own movements have been in a downward rather than in an upward direction. Blessed Benedict may set before you the degrees of humility, for he has previously set his own heart upon them. I have nothing to put before you, unless it be my own downward course. Yet if that is carefully examined, the way to go up may haply be found therein. For if as you are going towards Rome, a man who is coming thence meets you, and you ask him the way, how can he better tell you than by pointing out the route that he has followed? In naming the castles, villages, cities, rivers and mountains which he has passed, he records his own journey and foretells yours, so that as you go on you may recognize the places that he has passed. In like manner in this downward course of mine you may possibly discover the upward steps, and as you ascend, may you study them to more purpose in your own heart than in my book.