The Road to Hell is Paved with the Skulls of Bishops

So saith today’s saint, the incomparable Saint John Chrysostom (c. 347–407). He was, of course, himself a bishop.

It seems that this pithy quote is a popularization of the full (attributed) quote, where the saint is talking about the relatively few in number who will be saved and the bad shepherds who are responsible:

The road to Hell is paved with the bones of priests and monks, and the skulls of bishops are the lamp posts that light the path.

There is some debate on the proper attribution of the quote, but it is certainly ancient.

It’s kind of sad that although the Saint was in his day famous for his homilies and his writings on liturgy and theology, the one thing that is most quoted is this. Although it is interesting that his feast comes in the midst of our continuing reading of the Holy Rule on the awesome responsibility of Abbots and, by extension, all of our shepherds.

Saint John Chrysostom is accorded as one of the 33 Doctors of the Church, and he is cited in the Catechism of the Catholic Church no less than eighteen times. I’m particularly drawn to the quote attached to Paragraph 2365:

Saint John Chrysostom suggests that young husbands should say to their wives:

I have taken you in my arms, and I love you, and I prefer you to my life itself. For the present life is nothing, and my most ardent dream is to spend it with you in such a way that we may be assured of not being separated in the life reserved for us. . . .

I place your love above all things, and nothing would be more bitter or painful to me than to be of a different mind than you.

His biggest contribution, though, is probably the codification and reform of what is now known as the Divine Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom.

Last year, Archbishop Sample of Portland offered another passage by the Saint for contemplation in these days.

(I have broken up the paragraphs for easier online reading.)

The waters have risen and severe storms are upon us, but we do not fear drowning, for we stand firmly upon a rock. Let the sea rage, it cannot break the rock. Let the waves rise, they cannot sink the boat of Jesus.

What are we to fear? Death? Life to me means Christ, and death is gain.

Exile? The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord.

The confiscation of goods? We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it.

I have only contempt for the world’s threats, I find its blessings laughable. I have no fear of poverty, no desire for wealth. I am not afraid of death nor do I long to live, except for your good. I concentrate therefore on the present situation, and I urge you, my friends, to have confidence.

Do you not hear the Lord saying: Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in their midst? Will he be absent, then, when so many people united in love are gathered together?

I have his promise; I am surely not going to rely on my own strength! I have what he has written; that is my staff, my security, my peaceful harbor.

Let the world be in upheaval. I hold to his promise and read his message; that is my protecting wall and garrison. What message? Know that I am with you always, until the end of the world!

If Christ is with me, whom shall I fear? Though the waves and the sea and the anger of princes are roused against me, they are less to me than a spider’s web. Indeed, unless you, my brothers, had detained me, I would have left this very day.

For I always say: Lord, your will be done; not what this fellow or that would have me do, but what you want me to do. That is my strong tower, my immovable rock, my staff that never gives way.

If God wants something, let it be done! If he wants me to stay here, I am grateful. But wherever he wants me to be, I am no less grateful.

Yet where I am, there you are too, and where you are, I am. For we are a single body, and the body cannot be separated from the head nor the head from the body. Distance separates us, but love unites us, and death itself cannot divide us.

For though my body die, my soul will live and be mindful of my people.

You are my fellow citizens, my fathers, my brothers, my sons, my limbs, my body. You are my light, sweeter to me than the visible light. For what can the rays of the sun bestow on me that is comparable to your love?

The sun’s light is useful in my earthly life, but your love is fashioning a crown for me in the life to come.

Saint John Chrysostom, pray for all shepherds, our priests and bishops!