John Moschos
The name of this saint of the Church – and a popular author in the Byzantine Empire, to boot – should be a very familiar one to the readers of Scottish Catholic author William Dalrymple’s by-turns delightful and depressing travelogue of the eastern Mediterranean, From the Holy Mountain. Saint John himself, indeed, wrote a travelogue – the Leimonarion, or the Spiritual Meadow – which served as an inspiration, a template and a foil for Dalrymple’s book thirteen and a half centuries later. He was accompanied in his travels by his fellow-ascetic Saint Sophronios, the later ancient Patriarch of Jerusalem – on whom more to follow.
Saint John Moschos was born in 550, probably in Damascus, to a Greek-speaking family. Not much is known about his early life; however, he began his ascetical life in the monastery of Saint Theodosios at Dayr ibn- ‘Ubaydiyya outside Jerusalem. He thereupon also spent some time among the hermits at the Jordan River, and at the monastery Dayr Mâr Sâbâ in the Wadi an-Nar. At this point he became friendly with the Syrian Arabic monk Sophronios, the latter of whom became his spiritual son and accompanied him on a pilgrimage (forced by political circumstances) to Antioch and then to Ægypt – the two of them made it as far as Al Khârja, and later to Mount Sinai in Ægypt, where Saint John spent a decade living a holy life alongside the monks of the Lavra at Æliatæ. He later visited holy sites again in both Jerusalem and Antioch before returning to Ægypt, and then a voyage to Cyprus and finally to Rome, where he died. Before his repose, he requested his friend Sophronios to take his body and bury it on Mount Sinai if possible, and otherwise at the monastery of Saint Theodosios. As Mount Sinai was then under siege by the nascent Islâmic polity, Saint Sophronios took his relics to the monastery in Jerusalem and had them interred there. The two saints, so closely associated in life, share the same feast day of 11 March.
Saint John’s reputation, however, is less one of a holy monastic, and more one of a popular author and hagiographer. For example he wrote, with Saint Sophronios, a Life of Saint John the Almsgiver of Alexandria and Cyprus. The Leimonarion, on the other hand, was indeed a devotional text, but it also served for the Byzantine Greeks of his own day as a novel: full of interesting anecdotes of the people amongst whom he travelled – saints and sinners both, in all walks of life.
Venerable John Moschos, pray to God for us sinners!
Saint Sophronios of Jerusalem
Comparatively more is known of Saint Sophronios than of his friend and starets John Moschos. We know, for example, that Saint Sophronios was a Syrian Arab by his parentage. We also know that he studied intensively in his youth in the languages of Greek and Latin as well as in the liberal arts. We know that he was drawn to rhetoric and philosophy, and became known as Sophronios ‘the Sophist’ by his friend John Moschos on account of his achievements in both fields of study. He lived for some time afterward as a mendicant teacher of the liberal arts. However, unsatisfied with the idea of rhetorical mastery, he sought instead the mastery of the soul through ascesis. To this end he came to Jerusalem and placed himself under John Moschos’s guidance. When the Persians invaded the Empire, Saint John and Saint Sophronios fled together to Ægypt. On their travels, Saint Sophronios fell deathly ill and asked to be tonsured as a monk by his spiritual elder; and was obliged. However, he recovered and went on to live – he aided Saint John in most of his writings, including both the Life of their mutual friend and acquaintance Saint John the Almsgiver (whom they met while staying in Ægypt), and the Leimonarion. He also, when in Ægypt, became temporarily stricken with blindness in his eyes – and he turned in prayer to the Holy Unmercenaries and Wonderworkers Cyrus and John. Going to pray in a church named for these two saints, he received healing and his vision back. Thereupon, in a spirit of profound thanksgiving, he wrote the Lives of these two saints.
During their stay in Ægypt, also, Saint John the Almsgiver became embroiled in the polemics between Chalcedonian Orthodoxy and the hæresies of monoenergism and monothelitism, both of which arose out of a desire to find a ‘middle ground’ between Chalcedonianism and the hæresy of monophysitism of which the Oriental believers were accused. Saint John enlisted the newly-tonsured Syrian Arabic monk for aid. Saint Sophronios wrote a letter in Greek to the controversial Pope Honorius – the same Pope Honorius, by the way, who sent Saint Berin to preach among the English – explaining to him the Orthodox position that the person of Jesus Christ is one person (ὑπόστασις) who in the Incarnation was gifted with two complete natures, two energies, two wills (one divine and one human). Note here, please: Saint Sophronios was a Syriac Arab. He was not a partizan Greek nationalist, nor was he even particularly invested in the linguistic politics that were at this time plaguing much of the Byzantine Empire under assault by Islâm. Being a philosopher by training, perhaps one can argue that he was more comfortable with expressing these concepts in the Greek language than in his own native tongue, but it seems equally probable and indeed charitable to assume that his interest was primarily theological rather than linguistic-political.
However, the political and ecclesiological splits that happened as a result of the monophysite hæresy and the resulting reactions to it, were largely along sectarian ethnic-linguistic lines. Among the results of the political turmoil that followed the Persian assault on the eastern part of the Empire, were a group of Syriacs following the monk Yohanna Marûn who adopted the monothelite hæresy as a reaction against both the monoenergism of the Persian Christians and against the Chalcedonian Orthodoxy of Saint Sophronios. This monothelite sect became the Maronite community which later joined the Catholic Church during the Crusades in the first ‘Unia’.
The three saints John, John and Sophronios all left Ægypt when the political situation grew too dire. Saint John the Almsgiver died en route to Constantinople, in his native island of Cyprus, and was there buried. Saint John Moschos, as aforementioned, died in Rome; his body was eventually brought back to Jerusalem. The Sassanid Persians from whom Saints John and Sophronios had fled into Ægypt, in the meanwhile, had managed to conquer most of Syria and Palestine, killed monks, priests and confessing laypeople, destroyed monasteries and bore away the relic of the True Cross. The Byzantine Empire under Ērakleios the Younger managed to rally its military forces and drive the Persians back off of the Eastern Mediterranean coast, allowing both Saint Sophronios and the True Cross – albeit from opposite directions – to return to Jerusalem amidst great rejoicing. In 634, Sophronios was elected as Patriarch of Jerusalem, as which he undertook great toil for the well-being of the faithful. The office was to be ill-fated, but its holder was not.
This was, after all, the time of the sudden and rather violent rise of Islâm. Though Muhammad did not attack the Christian empire to his north while Ērakleios remained alive, his successor ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab did attack and lay siege to the holy places of the Empire. The armies of Islâm lay siege to Jerusalem, and demanded entrance. Running short of food, Saint Sophronios undertook the negotiations to save the people of his city. Going to the walls, he managed to receive from the besieging army a promise that if they were granted entry, they would spare both the Christian populace and the holy sites. When the Muslims came into the city, however, they desecrated the holy places and the Christian houses of worship at them. Saint Sophronios, grief-stricken after seeing the desolation that the fanatical followers of the unitarian prophet wrought upon the holy places, went into decline and reposed in the Lord on the eleventh of March, 638.
Saint Sophronios, being one of the great learned men of his time and a philosopher by training, was a great influence on Saint Maximos the Confessor. He also authored, in addition to his hagiographical and epistolary works, an Excursus on the Liturgy as well as a number of hymns for the Church year, from Easter to the Lord’s Ascension. He also helped to reform the rule for the Monastery of Mâr Sâbâ, and his Canons are included in the Triodion for our current Lenten season.
Patriarch Sophronius, you were glorious in the splendor of sobriety,
And through the radiance of your words you revealed ineffable enlightenment from heaven.
For by your life you attained wisdom
And now you confirm the Church
As an illustrious hierarch and intercessor for us with the Lord.
Saint Óswine of Deira
A much-younger contemporary of Saint John Moschos and Saint Sophronios of Jerusalem, and sharing the same feast day with them, but living at the extreme other end of the then-known world, was the martyrific Óswine, King of Dere (what is now the region around York in northern England). As the city of Jerusalem under Saint Sophronios lay under siege by the Muslims and was about to fall, in England another invasion of Christian territory and another siege was taking place. The Northumbrian king Ósríc had holed up the Cumbrian king Cadwallon ap Cadfan, but the bold heathen Briton made a daring sortie and destroyed Ósríc with his entire army in 634. The successor to Ósríc was the saintly Óswald – the exilic model for Tolkien’s Aragorn who did so much to build Northumbria’s fortunes and take care of Northumbria’s poor. However, Óswald himself was martyred on the field of battle on the fifth of August at the hands of the heathen king Penda of Mercia (whose daughters later became saints), and at the initial agreement of Óswald’s brother Óswiu the throne of Dere thereafter passed to his cousin, Ósríc’s son Óswine – who had been but a child at the time of his father’s death and thus too young to be thought a threat either to Cadwallon or to Óswald. Still, the child was borne off to Wessex and there raised, safe from both his foreign and his domestic rival, in exile from Northumbria.
Though Saint Bede describes Óswine as ‘a man of handsome appearance and great stature, pleasant in speech and courteous in manner… generous to high and low alike,’, it is clear from Bede’s description that he was of a greatly different temperament than either his father or his cousin who had gone before him as king of Dere. He was slow to anger and quick to forgive. Bede notes his ‘virtue and moderation’ and his ‘singular blessing of humility’, which he demonstrates with the following tale.
Oswine had given Bishop Aidan a very fine horse, in order that he could ride whenever he had to cross a river or undertake any difficult or urgent journey, although the bishop ordinarily travelled on foot. Not long afterwards, when a poor man met the bishop and asked for alms, the bishop immediately dismounted and ordered the horse with all its royal trappings to be given to the beggar; for he was most compassionate, a protector of the poor and a father to the wretched. When this action came to the king’s ears, he asked the bishop as they were going in to dine:As king in Berenice, Saint Óswald had been succeeded by his brother Óswiu King, who has been mentioned before here. At first, Óswiu seems to have welcomed Óswine as co-king among the Northumbrians, and indeed Bede relates that for seven frithful years Óswine reigned and brought wealth and happiness to his folk. We may assume from both Bede’s description of Óswine, from his narration of the history, and from the pious legend involving Saint Aidan that follows it, that he governed with the peace, order and welfare of his realm foremost in mind.
‘My lord bishop, why did you give away the royal horse which was necessary for your own use? Have we not many less valuable horses of other kinds which would have been good enough for beggars, without giving away a horse that I had specially selected for your personal use?’
The bishop at once answered: ‘What are you saying, your Majesty? Is this foal of a mare more valuable to you than this child of God?’
At this they went in to dinner, and the bishop sat down in his place; but the king, who had come in from hunting, stood warming himself by the fire with his attendants. As he stood by the fire, the king turned over in his mind what the bishop had said; then suddenly unbuckling his sword and handing it to a servant, he impulsively knelt at the bishop’s feet and begged his forgiveness, saying: ‘I will not refer to this matter again, nor will I enquire how much of our money you give away to God’s children.’
The bishop was deeply moved, and raising him immediately, assured him of his high regard, begging him to sit down to his food without regrets. At the bishop’s request, the king sat down and began to be merry, but Aidan on the contrary grew so sad that he began to shed tears. His chaplain asked him in his own language, which the king and his servants did not understand, why he wept. Aidan replied: ‘I know that the king will not live very long, for I have never seen so humble a king as he. I feel that he will soon be taken from us, because this nation is not worthy of such a king.’
However, this frithful rule brought the envy of Oswiu upon him. Oswiu would not live at peace with his neighbour, and moved to have Óswine destroyed. The two kings raised armies against each other, but Óswine’s army being the less strong, the king of Dere would not bear to see his men killed needlessly. He brought his army to a place called Wilfaresdun near Catterick, and there dismissed them and had them all sent home but one: a trusted þegn by the name of Tondhere. Óswine and Tondhere fled from Oswiu’s incoming army to the home of an eorl named Hunweald, whom Óswine trusted and thought of as a friend – but in whose character he was sadly mistaken. Hunweald took Óswine and Tondhere into his home by night, but secretly betrayed them to Óswiu’s man – one Æþelwine, who had orders from his king to find and slay Óswine. With Hunweald’s unmanly connivance, this wretched deed was done on the twentieth night of August 651 – and Oswine, though having lost an earthly crown, gained a heavenly one far greater in splendour. It could rightly be said of Óswine, that his martyrdom mirrors and anticipates that in the east of Saints Boris and Gleb, who, also non-resisting, went to their deaths in a similar manner and on similar political grounds. Tondhere, though Óswine pled with Æþelwine for his life, refused to be spared and died alongside his king, and too gained the greater reward of martyrdom. Bishop Aidan died not long after his beloved king, and we celebrate his feast on the thirty-first of August.
Oswiu, a man of rather inconstant tempers it seems, was made to regret this wicked deed of his, committed under cover of night, by stealth, guile and betrayal. At the insistence of his wife Eanflæd, Óswiu was prevailed upon to lay the cornerstone of a new monastery in Óswine’s name at Gilling, where Hunweald’s house had been, with Óswine’s kinsman Trumhere as its first abbot. There prayers for the blessed slain and the penitent slayer both were to be said daily.
Courtesy and humility shone from thee,
O radiant Martyr Óswine.
Trained by Saint Aidan as a Christian ruler,
Thou didst illumine northern Britain.
Glory to Him Who has strengthened thee;
Glory to Him Who has crowned thee;
Glory to Him Who through thee works healings for all!
Saint Custennin of Strathclyde
Another royal saint and a true contemporary of Saints John Moschos and Sophronios of Jerusalem, Custennin ap Rhydderch Hael ap Tudwal, King of Ystrad Clud (modern-day Allt Clud), took a road to sainthood that was at once shorter than Oswine’s, and at the same time longer: for he willingly renounced his earthly crown yet living, converted to Christianity and became a monk.
The tale has it that he married a Breton princess, a beautiful lass who died shortly after their wedding. The king was so heartbroken that he left his whole kingdom behind, and fled for sanctuary first to Tyddewi and then to Raithean, where he arrived unannounced. He was set to work in the granary as a lay-brother. One day nigh seven years after, while grinding corn at a quern-stone he chuckled to himself: ‘Can this truly be Custennin King, who wore helm and bore shield, drudging at this handmill? It is – yet is not!’ He was overheard by one of the brother-monks, and his identity made known to the abbot. Called before the abbot, he was encouraged as a man of learning to take the tonsure and to study to become a priestmonk – which he did.
The ones responsible for his conversion were likely either Saint Columba of Iona or Saint Cyndeyrn of Glasgow. He had spent a further seven years at Raithean before he desired to make a pilgrimage to Iona, where Saint Columba was. He met the old abbot, who greeted him kindly and made him known to Saint Cyndeyrn, and sent Saint Custennin on to Glasgow. He there met Saint Mirin, who became a dear and close friend to the king-turned-monk. Saint Custennin then built a monastery at Govan, which adjoins the grounds of the parish of Saint Mirin. Saint Custennin also founded churches at Kirkconstantin, Kinneil and Dunnechtan. He reposed in peace at his monastery at Govan on the eleventh of March sometime in the middle of the seventh century, the day on which the church still keeps his feast.
Grieving at the loss of thy young spouse,
Thou didst renounce the world, O Martyr Constantine,
But seeing thy humility God called thee to leave thy solitude and serve Him as a priest.
Following thy example,
We pray for grace to see that we must serve God as He wills
And not as we desire,
That we may be found worthy of His great mercy.
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