St. John Chrysostomos: “God sometimes gives, sometimes does not give…”

Prayer is a great good when it is offered with gratitude and a vigilant heart. And how does it become pleasing? If we train ourselves to give thanks to God not only when we receive what we ask for, but also when we do not receive it. For God sometimes gives, sometimes does not give; yet both He does for our good, so that whether you receive or do not receive, even without receiving, you have received.

Whether you succeed or do not succeed, you have succeeded by not succeeding. For at times, not receiving what we ask for becomes more beneficial than receiving it.

"I will praise Thee, O Lord," he says, "with my whole heart; I will recount all Thy wondrous works" (Psalm 9:1). Here, of course, he means thanksgiving. What does "with my whole heart" mean? With all eagerness, with readiness of disposition, he says. And not only for prosperity, but also for adversities. For this is chiefly the mark of a grateful and philosophical soul: to give thanks also in sorrowful things, to glorify for all things—not only for benefactions, but also for punishments.

Because this brings greater reward. When you give thanks for good things, you repay a debt, whereas for the bad, you make God your debtor. Therefore, for this thanksgiving, God always returns many other blessings; so that we will not even feel the afflictions. For no one suffers from those things for which he gives thanks to God; thus, we shall also reap another benefit: to drive away despondency.

First, then, one should offer hymns to God and thank Him for His benefactions, and then ask for what one desires—and again, thank Him for what has been received.

And when our prayer is not heard, even for that we should glorify Him. For this happens either because we ask for things that are not to our benefit—so that by not receiving them we profit—or because we ask with negligence, and God, delaying, wisely helps us to increase our zeal by our continued nearness to Him, and this is no small gain. For many times, having received what we asked for, we slacken our eagerness for prayer; yet God, wishing us to intensify our effort by supplicating Him, postpones the gift.

Let us be ashamed then, let us be ashamed, beloved, and let us groan over our great negligence. That Paralytic (John 5:6–13) persisted for thirty-eight years without being able to attain what he desired, and yet he did not withdraw, and his failure was not due to negligence but to being hindered and pushed aside by others; yet even so, he was not disheartened. Whereas we, if we remain for ten days beseeching God with eagerness for something and do not attain it, we then become sluggish in showing the same eagerness… And how much punishment do such things deserve? For even if we were to receive nothing, would not this very constant conversation with Him be worthy of countless blessings? But constant prayer is a toilsome task? And tell me, which of the works of virtue is not toilsome? You will say that this is what causes us great perplexity—that in wickedness there is pleasure, while in virtue there is toil. And I believe that many ask this question. What then is the reason?

God gave us from the beginning a life free of care and exempt from toil; we did not use the gift as we ought, but our idleness became a cause of corruption, and we fell from Paradise. Therefore, He then made our life toilsome, as though giving account to the human race and saying: I gave you at the beginning a pleasant and carefree life, but through ease you became worse; for this reason, then, I commanded that labor and sweat be given to you.

Let us never cease to beseech God for the forgiveness of our sins, but let us show fervent eagerness and not be impatient, nor become more sluggish if we are not quickly heard. For perhaps the Lord wisely delays in order to secure our continual abiding near Him through prayer, desiring that we also receive the reward of patience, and knowing the proper time when it is beneficial for us to attain what we seek. For we do not know what is to our benefit as well as He does, who knows with precision the hidden things of each one’s heart.

Therefore, we ought not to pry into or excessively examine the workings of God, but to show great gratitude. Just as no one dares to approach a king about some torn garment or for ten coins that were taken from him, so too you—and even more so—should not ask for trivial and insignificant things, such as if someone wronged you financially or insulted you, but rather for those things in which the devil wrongs you, where help from on high is especially needed.

He also teaches us to make our prayer common and on behalf of our brethren. For He does not say, “My Father who art in heaven,” but “Our Father,” offering the petitions on behalf of the entire body (of the Church), and never aiming at our own concerns but always at those of our neighbor. In this way, He removes enmity, greatly reduces pride, drives away envy, and brings forth the mother of all good things—love—and smooths out differences among men, showing the great equality between king and pauper, since in the great and necessary things we all partake equally.

He who prays must have the posture, disposition, and mindset of a servant; why then do you wear a different mask—the mask of accusation? For how will you be able to receive the forgiveness of your own sins when you demand that God become the punisher of others' transgressions? Let your prayer, therefore, be calm, peaceful; let your face be joyful and gentle. That kind of prayer is the one offered with meekness and does not attack enemies—unlike the opposite kind, which resembles a filthy and savage woman, staggering in drunkenness. That is why heaven is closed to such a prayer. But not so with the prayer offered in meekness—it has something melodic, welcoming, and worthy to be heard by a king: pleasant, full of harmony and musicality. That is why it is not cast out from the divine theater, but enters crowned, for it bears a golden lyre and a golden garment; it pleases the Judge with its posture, gaze, and voice. Therefore, no one drives it away from the heavenly arches—for that whole theater rises in joy because of it. This prayer is worthy of the heavens. It is the tongue of the Angels—that which utters nothing bitter, but only what is gentle and sweet.

 

Greek source: https://alopsis.gr/o-theos-allote-dinei-allote-den-dinei-agios-ioannis-chrysostomos/