‘Humble Month’?

I have seen some Orthodox Christians recently begin talking about the possibility of making June ‘Humility Month’ or ‘Humble Month’. The idea is that, as the secular culture around us is celebrating gay pride (including the advocates of secular culture from the sadly predictable usual quarters), we should seek to exalt instead the virtue of humility as an antidote to pride of all kinds. Speaking as an Orthodox Christian layman, I’m here to say that ‘Humble Month’ is a bad idea… but not for the reasons you might think.

Two days from now, in the Orthodox Church, we will celebrate the feast of the fullness of the revelation of the Holy Spirit in history. We will celebrate the Last and Great Day, the dawning of the great fire, the holy fire which descended upon the heads of the Apostles as they gathered together ‘in one place’, in the Cenacle at Jerusalem. It is the last of the great feasts in the Church, and it marks the historical beginning of the Church in the world.

Let us be absolutely clear about the meaning of this feast. It is a day upon which the Gospel of salvation went forth by grace into the hearing of all peoples. A new word, indeed the Word of Truth, was proclaimed even in the tongues of the most despised barbarians.

The Book of Acts mentions several nations which heard this word in their own native language: Parthians and Medes (speakers of Iranian languages); Elamites (speakers of an extinct language isolate); Mesopotamians (speakers of Aramaic, with Akkadian still in liturgical use); Judæa (Aramaic and Hebrew); Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia Minor (dialects of Greek); Phrygia (Phrygian); Pamphylia (Greek); Egypt (Coptic); Libya (Tamahaq, Greek and Latin); Rome (Latin); Crete (Greek); and Arabia (Arabic). These languages were all explicitly sanctified in Scripture by the Holy Spirit. And even those which were not explicitly sanctified here were blessed in the Great Commission. (As a result, it makes better sense, following the logic of Pentecost, for Orthodox Christians to celebrate June as Indigenous History Month the way they do in Canada. The languages of those who were here first are similarly blessed. But I digress.)

The fire that descended upon the Apostles at Pentecost was not a destroying fire. It was not the fire that consumes. It was the same as the fire that Moses beheld in the Burning Bush—a fire which illumines, is the essence of creativity. This is the fire of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost calls us to a creative and self-giving relationship to the world. What better evidence could there be of this, than of the Word being preached in the tongues of all the nations present in Jerusalem? It ought to go without saying, though, that Pentecost also calls us to be humble. As Saint John of Kronstadt said: ‘The Comforter, the Holy Spirit, who fills the whole universe, passes through all believing, meek, humble, good, and simple human souls, dwelling in them, vivifying and strengthening them.’ Pride has no place at Pentecost. The Holy Spirit finds no place to dwell in those who are filled up with themselves, their own ‘me’-ness.

So ‘Humility Month’ gets at least this one thing—and it is quite an important thing—right. Humility before the Holy Spirit is very much needful; without it, we are nothing. On the other hand, though, the whole ‘Humility Month’ business strikes me as a purely reactive posture. It takes as primary, not the witness of the Orthodox Calendar and the Liturgical cycle ordained by the power of the Holy Spirit… but instead the imitative liturgics of the surrounding secular culture. It bases its witness not on Pentecost, but on an evil or a privation to be opposed. This is, to put it bluntly, almost an anti-Pentecost approach.

If such reaction is at times a deep and understandable temptation in an age where identity politics and ‘woke’-ism seem to have gone completely amok, we should nonetheless understand the impulse as temptation, as a passion in the Patristic sense. Orthodox Christians should certainly not strive to mimic the culture in opposition—in other words, to posture as a set-theoretical not-X to the culture’s X. There is so much that is truly good, that is original in the Orthodox culture—what I should say is, the Orthodox cultures that were sanctified at Pentecost, be they Greek, Arabic, African, Persian, Syriac, Latin, or any of the cultures that were baptised afterward—that there should be no need for us to make a commemorative ‘Month’ that is simply the stated opposite of what a weak, shallow and exhausted consumerist culture finds ‘good’.

Let us be truly humble, then, if that is our aim. Let us proclaim the Pentecost in whatever language we can find to hand—surely that language will by no means exhaust the Holy Spirit’s glory. Let us be creative and self-giving as the Apostles were then. Let us make more than a Month of it, for the Pentecost is the fiftieth day, the fullness of time in the new creation. Let us be proclaimers of Christ Risen and Ascended. Let us be seekers of the Father’s abundant mercies. Let us be witnesses of the Holy Spirit’s work in the world.

Holy Martyrs Maurikios and the Seventy at Apameia

Russian Orthodox icon of Saint Maurikios

Today, the twenty-seventh of December, the third day of the Nativity Feast of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, is the feast-day in the Holy Orthodox Church of Saint Maurikios and the seventy soldiers who were martyred for Christ at Apameia (now Qal‘at al-Maḍîq in Syria). They are also commemorated in the OCA on the twenty-second of February, and in the Greek church on the first of July. These military martyrs suffered during the reign of Emperor Maximianus Herculius. Besides Maurikios and his son Phōteinos, two of these soldiers are known by name to human history: Theodōros [Gk. Θεόδωρος] and Philippos [Gk. Φίλιππος]. The names of the rest are known by God and sung in praise by the host of angels.

Saint Maurikios [Gk. Μαυρίκιος, Ar. Mûrîs موريس] was apparently a native of Apameia. He served in the Imperial Guard – a position of high honour and trust. As Emperor Maximianus was passing through the city of Apameia, possibly on campaign against the Persians, he overheard a rumour that his guardsman Maurikios and his family were, in fact, secretly Christians. In particular, the pagan priests complained that Maurikios had been spreading his belief in Christ among the Roman Army. Maximianus summoned Maurikios before him, along with his entire unit of seventy men, and attempted to force them to make sacrifices to the pagan gods. Maurikios refused to do so, and to a man so refused all of his soldiers as well. Instead, they firmly confessed Christ crucified and risen again. Neither threats nor blandishments were of any avail to the Emperor in enforcing the pagan worship on these men.

Saint Maurikios and his men were stripped of their belts, the insignia of their rank. They were publicly humiliated and thrown into prison. After three days the Emperor called them before him, and they again confessed their faith in Christ. Maximianus then gave them over to the executioners to be tortured. They were flogged mercilessly with whips, and then cast into a fire to burn their flesh. Then they were hung from wooden poles and their flesh lacerated with iron hooks. Because Maurikios was the commander of the men, Maximianus wished to make an example of his family, and had his innocent son Phōteinos [Gk. Φωτεινός] put to death by the sword. But even this cruel tyranny of the emperor did not shake the faith of Maurikios, who knew that his son had thus joined the company of martyrs.

Seeing that even the death of his only son had failed to sway Maurikios, in a fury the wicked emperor ordered that the men be led to a marsh that lay at the confluence of two rivers, where there were many biting and stinging insects – wasps and midges and mosquitoes. The emperor ordered that they be stripped naked and their bodies smeared with honey, and then tied to trees and left to be eaten alive by the insects. To further torment Maurikios, Maximianus had the headless body of his son flung into the swamp before his eyes. God’s seventy holy martyrs endured the bites and stings of the pests for ten whole days and nights, and they were weak from thirst and from exposure, but none of them begged for mercy nor recanted Christ. When at the end of the ten days of their suffering the emperor returned and found them alive, he ordered his soldiers to behead them with the sword, and in this way the thrice-blessed martyrs departed to the infinitely more honourable court of their Heavenly Lord. The emperor wanted to leave their bodies exposed, for he did not want them to be given a decent burial. However, local Christians came and claimed the bodies of these martyrs, and had them buried and commemorated in the place of their execution.

The beloved memory of these holy martial martyrs of the Church was promulgated in particular by Saint John Cassian, who spoke highly of their martyrdom to his disciples and spiritual sons in the Ægyptian desert. Over time, Saint Maurikios’s legend took on a local flavour, and he became a patron of Thēbai, with the historical details of his life being tailored to that place. Later legends in the Middle Ages placed his martyrdom in Switzerland, in the ancient Roman city of Agaunum. As a result, in the Western Church in particular, ‘Saint Maurice’ is remembered as an Ægyptian and as a patron of the Swiss Guard, and he is often traditionally depicted as a dark-skinned, African Roman soldier. Holy martyr Maurikios, and the seventy faithful soldiers whose duty to Christ exceeded even your duties to any earthly kings, pray unto Christ our Lord for our salvation!

Apolytikion to Saint Maurikios and the Seventy at Apameia, Tone 4:

Your holy martyrs O Lord,
Through their sufferings have received incorruptible crowns from You, our God.
For having Your strength, they laid low their adversaries,
And shattered the powerless boldness of demons.
Through their intercessions, save our souls!

Holy Hierarch Philogonios, Archbishop of Antioch

Saint Philogonios of Antioch

Today, the twentieth of December, is – along with being the feast-day of the glorious and right-victorious God-bearing hieromartyr Saint Ignatios of Antioch – the feast-day of Saint Philogonios, another of the great and holy early primates of Antioch. It is truly meet that today we remember both the third and the twenty-second primates of Antioch, for both were bold confessors of Christ and both shared a great love for the living Truth and for the right beliefs of the Church. Saint Philogonios was also a ‘social justice saint’, who while he was still in his sæcular life was a scholar of the law who defended the poor, the widows and orphans from the predations of the rich and greedy. When he was anointed archbishop of Antioch, he was among the first of the hierarchs of the Church to oppose the hæresy of Arius.

We do not know much about the early life of Saint Philogonios [Gk. Φιλογόνιος, Ar. Faylûjûnûs فيلوجونوس]. We do know, however, that he was well-spoken and thus probably also well-educated. According to his hagiography, he was married and had one daughter. The Latin hagiography departs somewhat from the Ægyptian and Greek hagiographies, however. According to our tradition, after Philogonios’s wife died, he took his property, set aside a portion for his daughter, distributed the rest to the poor and needy, and left the world to become a monk. He had made great progress in the ascetic life before he was chosen as Archbishop. According to the Latin hagiography, he was actually chosen as Archbishop by œconomia, without having become a monk: the canons were dispensed with in his case on account of his great virtue. Whichever is the case, it is clear that the people of Antioch chose Philogonios as their Archbishop on account of his many personal excellences, his vast and profound learning, his ascetic way of life and his true devotion to Christ. His demonstrable love for the poor, the vulnerable and the oppressed clearly also had a great deal to do with his election.

The people’s choice of Archbishop was not in error, for it turned out that Saint Philogonios proved to be a wise archpastor, and a keen expounder and defender of the true doctrines and the true knowledge of Christ. According to the eulogy by Saint John Chrysostom, the flourishing of the Church of Antioch in his own day was evidence of Saint Philogonios’s wisdom and careful stewardship. As archbishop he refused all of the comforts and material dignities that his office was due, setting an example for the Church in future generations that, for example, Patriarch Pavle of Serbia of blessed memory followed. Renouncing all such vanities, Saint Philogonios never kept for himself one single denarius or even one extra tunic. He was among the first to denounce the doctrines of Arius, being a close friend of Pope Saint Alexandros of Alexandria, who informed Saint Philogonios by letter of his decision to excommunicate Arius for the second time.

There was a well-documented persecution of Christians under Emperor Maximianus Herculius, under which suffered the holy Antiochian martyrs Barbara, Ioulianē, Hesychios and Theoteknos. There was another politically-motivated persecution of Christians under Emperor Licinius, who campaigned against the Sauromatæ [Ossetians] in the East during this time. Many army officers in this campaign lost their commissions – and possibly also their lives – if they refused to worship the pagan Roman gods; it was during this time also that Saint Abibos of Edessa was martyred.

The Latin and Orthodox hagiographies of Saint Philogonios tell us that he suffered under both of these persecutions for his confession of faith. He may also have been arrested and interrogated for his faith. However, Licinius was defeated in battle by Emperor Constantine and deposed prior to Saint Philogonios’s repose. In addition, the Ægyptian hagiography of Saint Philogonios tells us that he ‘departed in peace’: it is therefore likely that he was released on the orders of Emperor Constantine and restored to his see for the last three months of his life. Holy hierarch Philogonios, right-believing confessor of Christ, defender of the defenceless and needy poor, pray unto Christ our God that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint Philogonios of Antioch, Tone 4:

In truth you were revealed to your flock as a rule of faith,
An image of humility and a teacher of abstinence;
Your humility exalted you;
Your poverty enriched you.
Hierarch Father Philogonios,
Entreat Christ our God
That our souls may be saved.

Our venerable father Daniēl Stylitēs of Constantinople

Saint Daniēl the Stylite of Constantinople
القدّيس دانيال العمودي البار

Today in the Orthodox Church is the feast-day of another great Eastern holy man and hermit, Saint Daniēl the Stylite. A native of Mesopotamia who lived during the fifth century, Saint Daniēl is exemplary of both the idiosyncratic personalism of Antiochian ascetic spirituality, and of the general tendency after the wave of fourth-century Roman persecutions of the Christian faith to seek higher forms of ‘training’ and escape from compromise with the world with its snares. Saint Daniēl embodies, in a literal way that is unique only to a handful of saints in the Orthodox Church, this striving after a higher spiritual perfection in Christ.

Saint Daniēl [Gk. Δανιήλ, Syr. Dānī‘êl ܕܢܝܐܝܠ, Ar. Dâniyyâl دانيال] was born in a small village outside Samosata in Mesopotamia – what is now Samsat in Turkey – in the year 409. This village may have been Marutha, a name which means ‘the caves’ and which is also the name of an earlier Mesopotamian saint. His parents were ’Ilyâs and Marṯâ (which was also the name of the mothers of each of the other holy Syrian stylites).

Marṯâ the mother of Daniēl was, for a long time, barren – and this was the cause of many unkind words of reproach toward her, both from her husband and from the others in the village. Like Saint Joachim the righteous ancestor of God, who was also berated and reviled for his childlessness, Marṯâ fled out of the house into a deserted place, raised up her hands in supplication to God, and wept and prayed to Him to remove from her the reproach. She came back into the house and lay down with her husband ’Ilyâs. That night, sleeping beside him, she received an angelic vision of two great circular lights descending from heaven and settling near her. The following morning she related her vision to her husband and her family – each of whom had a different ‘take’ on it. But Marṯâ committed her vision into God’s hands, and not long afterward conceived.

When the saint was born he was given a different name by his parents. But when he was five he went to visit a monastery together with them, and brought with him fruit as a gift for the monks in God’s name. The abbot asked the boy’s name, but when ’Ilyâs told it to him, the holy monastic became angry and berated him. ‘That is not the boy’s name!’ the holy man said. Then he turned to the child and asked him kindly in Syriac: ‘Go, young one, and fetch a book from the altar.’ The boy obediently ran in and grabbed the Old Testament book of the Righteous Prophet Daniel. Then the abbot turned to the boy’s parents and told them that this was the boy’s name, as it had been revealed by God before all. ’Ilyâs and Marṯâ asked the abbot to take the boy and teach him the knowledge of the monastics, but the abbot refused on account of the boy’s young age. Gently he told the parents to care for young Daniēl until he came of age.

When he was twelve years old, Daniēl heard his mother say that she had dedicated him to God. Hearing this he left home and sought out the abbot, fell at his feet, and begged to let him join the monastery. Again the abbot told him he was too young, but as Daniēl insisted repeatedly and with great fervour, at last the abbot relented and allowed him to stay. When his parents found out where he was, they were happy. Seeing him still going about in his sæcular clothes, though, they asked the abbot to tonsure him and to give him the garb of a monk. The abbot did so, and counselled ’Ilyâs and Marṯâ for their son’s sake not to visit him too often.

The boy made rapid progress in the spiritual life, being humble and obedient and never seeking praise for himself. Indeed, it made him uncomfortable and distressed when other monks praised him, and he sought to flee their praise. He told the abbot that he desired solitude, but the abbot forbade this, saying that in his present stage he must learn to live together with other monks. Even so, when the Church bade all the local monastic hegoumens and anchorites to attend a local sobor in the city of Antioch, the abbot took Daniēl along with him as an assistant.

Along the way the Mesopotamian monks stopped by the village of Galanissa, and found the monastery at which Symeōn Stylitēs had made his home and ascended his first pillar. The monks at Galanissa spoke praises of the stylite, while the Mesopotamian monks were perhaps less-than-politely sceptical. Having never heard of this discipline even among hermits, they accused the pillar-dweller of wilfulness and self-seeking vainglory. The monks of Galanissa invited the abbot and his followers to see Saint Symeōn for themselves, and they did so – Saint Daniēl among them. When they approached the pillar and saw the harsh elements to which the saint was daily exposed, and further when they heard the meek and gentle voice in which the holy man called down to them, full of love for them, the monks were amazed and ashamed. Understanding that they had shot far wide of the mark, they did not say anything further against Symeōn. Symeōn asked that a ladder be brought, so that he might kiss the holy monks from Mesopotamia who had come to visit him. But the abbot and his entourage wept for shame, and dared not ascend to kiss with their mouths the man they had just been slandering with their lips.

However, Daniēl told the elders that he was willing to go, and the abbot gave him leave. Daniēl climbed the ladder and kissed the holy Symeōn. The pillar-dwelling saint joyfully laid his hand upon Daniēl, and encouraged him to be strong and brave, for he must still endure many hardships for God’s sake. Then he gave his blessing and sent Daniēl back down the ladder among his fellows.

The monks attended the sobor in Antioch and were dismissed back to their monasteries. Soon afterward Daniēl was found worthy of being named abbot. However, taking the opportunity, he left the monastery by night and went again to see Symeōn at his pillar. Saint Daniēl stayed there two weeks and received much instruction from the holy man. Saint Symeōn begged him to stay longer, for he enjoyed discoursing on holy things with the earnest young man. But Daniēl told the elder stylite that he must go for himself to see the Holy Places and retreat into the desert of the heart, and with sad joy Saint Symeōn gave him leave and blessing to go.

Daniēl embarked on the road to Palestine, which was then experiencing great political upheavals. On the road, however, he met an elderly monk who began inquiring into his purposes in going to the Holy Places. After some discussion, the holy elder advised him not to go to Palestine, but instead turn about and go in the other direction, toward the New Rome where too he could be in the presence of the martyrs and those who had sincerely followed Christ, without the perils of brigands and political rebels. They came to a monastery and Daniēl asked the elder if he would come in with him; he was told ‘Go, I will follow.’ However, he lost sight of the elderly monk, and it was then that he began to doubt if it was not in fact an angel that had visited him.

On the road to Byzantium Daniēl came to a small chapel near what is now the Roumeli Hisar fortress on the Bosporus, associated with a Greek-speaking Orthodox church dedicated to Archangel Michael. This chapel had been abandoned and then used as a pagan temple, and there the dæmons of the wilderness had taken up abode. Daniēl heard some monks conversing in Syriac about the problem, and he asked one of them to lead him to the church. They took him there – going in upon the church ground Daniēl armed himself for battle not with weapons, but rather with the Psalms of David and with the sign of the Cross. Although the dæmons assailed him with stones and howls and nightmares, the holy man of God persevered and took up his abode in this church. Many of the simple folk, Greek and Syrian, from the nearby countryside came to visit him to receive advice or blessings.

The Greek dean of the Church of Archangel Michael, provoked by the Evil One, grew jealous of this Syriac holy man, and complained to the Patriarch of Constantinople about his presence there. This man, the dean complained, was a Syrian and the Greeks could not understand him. Further he complained that the man was a hæretic and should be expelled. But the Patriarch, Saint Anatolios of Constantinople, saw through and understood the priest’s jealousy, and mildly advised him: ‘If you do not speak his language, how do you know he is a hæretic? If he comes with the blessing of God, he will stay. If he comes with the hæresies of the Devil, then the devils in that place will drive him out. You need have no fear and bring scandal where there is none.’ Chastened, the dean put away his complaints for a time.

The dæmons continued to attack Daniēl, and again they stirred up the rage and jealousy of the Greeks against him. At length, Saint Anatolios himself was obliged to come and meet the holy man, breaking into the chapel with crowbars. By means of an interpreter, the Constantinopolitan hierarch held a discussion with the Syrian monk, and soon beheld the sincerity of his faith and the meek humility of his life. He dismissed the priests who had summoned him there, telling them that the holy man was blameless. Indeed he invited Saint Daniēl to come stay in the palace in Constantinople, and although he benefitted greatly from Daniēl’s discourse (and the holy man even healed him of an ailment that had been vexing him deeply), Daniēl wanted nothing for himself but pardon for those who had slandered him, and to be allowed to return to the place that God had showed him. Reluctantly, Saint Anatolios allowed him to return. Many supplicants flocked to the hermit’s abode, to hear his words of grace, and to receive healing and help. He spent nine years living alone in this chapel.

At length, Saint Daniēl received a vision of Saint Symeōn atop his pillar, bidding him come up to him. Shortly after this vision, Saint Symeōn’s disciple Sergios came to Constantinople, bearing with him the leather garment of the saint, who had reposed in the Lord. He brought it to Saint Daniēl. Sergios led Daniēl out into a desert place in Thrace where he saw a dove ascending and descending from heaven, and here Daniēl, with the help of Sergios and an Imperial guardsman named Markos (who had been a friend to the holy Syrian monastic from the beginning), made plans to set up a pillar in that place.

However, that land belonged to Gelanios, the steward of the holy table to Emperor Saint Leōn. Gelanios – as well as the villagers and shepherds who used the land on which they were building the pillar – were angry with Saint Daniēl for having made such use of their land without permission. And although the Emperor had not given them permission to do so, they first tried to destroy the pillar, but the same wedge and lever which they tried to use to topple it, were the very implements which the man of God used to ascend the pillar, which remained fixed. Then Gelanios berated the saint, and tried to have him fetched down, but a hailstorm arose which began to destroy the vineyards and the grazelands around them, and Gelanios was prevailed upon to withdraw.

Gelanios then called up to the saint in his own Syriac language to come down and explain himself, and he did so mildly this time, and with promises that his feet need not touch the ground, such that the saint was obliged to obey. But when Saint Daniēl began descending the ladder, the heels and ankles of Gelanios began to break out in sores and welters. And so Gelanios ran to the holy man and entreated him to ascend the column again, and to forgive his sin against him. Saint Daniēl ascended the column again, and Gelanios was healed. From that time on Gelanios believed in the holy man’s sanctity, and even offered to build the saint a higher column at his own expense. Sergios and Markos both made hermit-dwellings for themselves near the pillar, and lived as his first disciples.

Living as he did near the Second Rome, many eminent people from the City came to visit Saint Daniēl. Among them were Kyrrhos, a former prætorian præfect, whose daughter was possessed by an unclean spirit – she the Saint exorcised. The princess and empress Eudoxia also visited Saint Daniēl and was deeply edified by his teachings. Even Saint Leōn himself benefitted from the Stylite’s blessings, as after one visit to the pillar he returned to his wife Verinē and she conceived for him a son.

Some of the jealous detractors of the saint hatched a plot whereby they conscripted the services of a notable courtezan of Constantinople, Vassianē, to feign illness, mount the column and seduce the holy man. They offered her payment of 100 gold pieces if she could do this. She tried for many weeks to achieve her aim, but despite her evident beauty and subtle allures, Daniēl did not give into the temptation. Later, a dæmon took possession of Vassianē and dragged her into the streets, causing her to shout out and reveal the whole of the plot in the public square, along with the names of all the conspirators. In this way, Saint Daniēl’s good name was further established. However, some people took pity upon Vassianē and brought her to Saint Daniēl for healing. The meek hermit bore the woman no ill-will, for all she had tried to cause him to stumble, and so he earnestly entreated God for several days to forgive Vassianē her sins and to expel the dæmon from which she was suffering, and made her to drink holy oil. God was merciful upon Vassianē – and, having been freed from the dæmon by Saint Daniēl’s prayers, she praised God and Saint Daniēl, went down from the pillar, and reformed her way of living.

It was at this time as well that Saint Daniēl sent word to Saint Gennadios, Archbishop of Constantinople, and to Emperor Saint Leōn, that a very great wrath from God would be sent down upon Second Rome for its sins, and a massive fire would erupt in the city. Because it was Holy Week and the preparations for the Lord’s Pascha were well underway, Patriarch and Emperor thought it best not to disturb the people with such news. Pascha came and went and Saint Daniēl’s prophetic warning was forgotten. The fire did break out – many people were killed, and many more were injured or left homeless. They went to Saint Daniēl, who wept with them and prayed with them, and urged them to bear up under their losses and help each other. He gave comfort to those who came to him. And having seen the devastation, the Patriarch and the Emperor understood the wrong they had done. Leōn went with Verinē in repentance to Saint Daniēl, and Saint Gennadios did the same, and begged his forgiveness for having failed to heed his warnings.

Accounts of several other miracles follow in Saint Daniēl’s hagiography. He endured several vicious storms that blew ice and hail and mighty winds against his pillars, and the saint endured much suffering on their account; however, he would not accept from the Emperor an offer that an iron cage be built over his pillar to protect him from the worst of the elements, for – as he said – his holy prædecessor Symeōn had not availed himself of such amenities. Several other deceptions and complots were played upon him similar to the one in which the former prostitute Vassianē played a rôle; however, Saint Daniēl retained his innocence and simplicity throughout all of them, and in the end all of them were exposed as shams.

Saint Daniēl was active in Emperor Leōn’s foreign policy – as an impartial judge and an effective peacemaker. At that time the Roman Empire had a dispute with the independent, Georgian-speaking Christian kingdom of Lazestan in the Caucasus and northeastern Anatolia, whose prince Gubazi had been attacked by a previous Emperor, and several unjust demands placed upon him and his heirs. For this reason he had come to Constantinople, and Emperor Leōn took him to see Saint Daniēl. Upon seeing the pillar, the Lazestani prince fell upon his face and gave glory to God, for he had never before beheld or heard of such an example of living holiness. Saint Daniēl mediated the dispute between Lazestan and Rome, and Gubazi departed for his homeland, and Leōn to his palace, each satisfied that right had been done. Prince Gubazi maintained a lifelong correspondence with Saint Daniēl, and continually besought his prayers until the end of his life.

Even after the Thracian emperor’s death, Saint Daniēl continued to be active in the lives of Emperor Leōn’s son-in-law Zēnōn and grandson by Zēnōn Leōn II. During the dispute between Verinē’s brother Basiliskos and Zēnōn, Saint Daniēl firmly took Zēnōn’s side. This is possibly because of Basiliskos’s ecclesiastical policies, which favoured the moderately anti-Chalcedonian Miaphysites over the pro-Chalcedonian Orthodox. During this crisis Saint Daniēl was invited into the city by Patriarch Akakios of Constantinople in order to help settle it; a throng of people gathered around him which was so large and so enthusiastic that they nearly crushed the holy man. By the grace of God he was saved when a senatorial personage of the city, Dagalaiphos, and the servants of his household, came to the holy man’s aid. When he came into the cathedral, several people came up to him to beg him for aid, including a noblewoman named Hēraïs who was having trouble conceiving a son. In the end, Saint Daniēl managed to reconcile Basiliskos to Patriarch Akakios and make Basiliskos recant his heterodox beliefs, and the political trouble in Constantinople was temporarily quelled.

Saint Daniēl lived to the age of eighty-four, and was given to know in advance of the time that his course of life would run out. Seven days before he reposed in the Lord he gathered his disciples and the people around the base of his pillar and entreated them to be kind and merciful to one another, to love each other, to show each other hospitality, to be patient and humble to one another, and always to love first Christ and His Church. Three days before his repose he received a vision of the souls of the saints in Heaven. He reposed on the eleventh of December, 493. Many people attended him at his death and burial, and signs of his sanctity, such as luminous crosses in the sky and the flights of doves in the air, as well as wondrous healings, manifested themselves even before his interment. Holy and venerable Daniēl, ascetic and athlete of perfection, peacemaker, beloved by the faithful and feared by devils, pray unto Christ our God that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint Daniēl the Stylite, Tone 1:

You were a pillar of patient endurance,
Having imitated the forefathers, O Venerable One:
Job in suffering, and Joseph in temptations.
You lived like the bodiless ones while yet in the flesh, O Daniēl, our Father.
Beseech Christ God that our souls may be saved.

Holy Martyr Athēnodōros of Mesopotamia

Saint Athēnodōros of Mesopotamia

Today is the feast-day in the Holy Orthodox Church of Saint Athēnodōros, a martyr of the Middle East who suffered for Christ in the year 304, under the persecutions of Diocletian. Saint Athēnodōros was a monastic from his youth, and he lived his entire life in Syrian Mesopotamia. When the persecutions of Diocletian occurred, he was denounced as a Christian and placed under arrest, and brought before the governor, Eleusios.

Saint Athēnodōros was subjected to severe tortures for his faith, but never once broke, enduring them all with a wondrous mental strength. The executioners first strung him up between two pillars, and scorched and branded his flesh with torches of burning resin. Then they heated up two iron bullets until they were white-hot, and pressed them in under his arms, placed iron hooks in his nose, and made him lie down on a copper gridiron that had been heated red-hot. At last a bull cast from copper was prepared, heated red-hot, and Athēnodōros was forced inside. Among the crowds who observed the tortures that Athēnodōros went through, there were fifty pagans who came to understand the power of Christ, and turned toward belief. At last the faithful martyr, who confessed Christ until the end, was beheaded with the sword. The hagiographical legend says that the executioner who was to behead him became paralysed and died soon afterward. Having run the course to its end, he won the crown of victory and was accepted at once into the company of saints. Holy martyr Athēnodōros, glorious athlete and steadfast confessor of Christ, pray unto Him who loves mankind that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint Athēnodōros, Tone 4:

Your holy martyr Athēnodōros, O Lord,
Through his suffering has received an incorruptible crown from You, our God.
For having Your strength, he laid low his adversaries,
And shattered the powerless boldness of demons.
Through his intercessions, save our souls!

Venerable Sabbas the Sanctified of Jerusalem

Saint Sabbas of Jerusalem
القديس سابا القدسي

Today, the fifth of December, is the feast-day of Saint Sabbas, one of the great monastic fathers of the Middle East in Late Antiquity. Saint Sabbas, who in the Orthodox Church is often known by his cognomen ‘the Sanctified’, established the Dayr Mâr Sâbâ, one of the holiest and most visited monastic houses in the Holy Land, which to this day continues as a shining jewel of the Jerusalem Patriarchate. He is venerated throughout the Holy Land and throughout the Orthodox Church.

Saint Sabbas [Gk. Σάββας, Syr. Sava’ ܣܒܐ, Ar. Sâbâ سابا] was born to Cappadocian Greek parents, Iōannēs and Sophia, in Moutalaski – which is in the modern-day Talas district in the Turkish province of Kayseri (Cæsarea) – in the year 439. His father, Iōannēs, was a commander in the Roman Army, who was placed on assignment in Alexandria when the future Sabbas was about five years old. His father left the boy in the care and tutelage of a kinswoman named Hermia. Unfortunately, Hermia was something of a weak governess. The boy’s uncles were given free reign over his property and fell to squabbling over it. As a result, he was sent into the monastery of Saint Flavian and given to the monks to study. When his father returned three years later, the boy had already renounced the world and had dedicated himself to the celibate service of God. Though his parents entreated and begged him to return to sæcular life and marriage and siring children, the young Sabbas adamantly insisted that he stay with the monks.

In particular, he loved reading from the Psalter. He performed all that was asked of him without complaint, even the menial duties, and loved the sixty-five monastic brethren with whom he lived, seeking to learn from each of them. In being the servant of all, he became the greatest among them. He acquired the virtues and held onto them like precious gems: sobriety, obedience and humility. So great was his virtue as a monk that he worked wonders even as a young man. At one time a baker left his clothing in a red-hot oven. Sabbas went into the oven to fetch the clothes, first making the holy sign of the Cross; he came out of the oven unscathed.

When he was fifteen or sixteen years old, he went to the abbot of Saint Flavian’s and asked his leave to undertake a pilgrimage into the Holy City, there to take up another monastic abode. After a probation of two years, his request was granted, and he went into Jerusalem, staying at the monastery of Saint Passarion that winter. The abbot at Saint Passarion’s, Elpidios, asked Sabbas to stay with them in that monastery, but Sabbas asked and was granted permission to seek out instruction from Euthymios who lived nearby, and who understood the path of hesychasm.

Saint Euthymios received Saint Sabbas in his own monastery, and treated him with great warmth and hospitality, but he forbade him to stay there, and instead recommended him to the care of his friend Saint Theoktistos. His reasoning for this seems to have been that he did not want to set the precedent for accepting teenagers into the cœnobitic life. Whatever his reason, however, Saint Sabbas obeyed the word of Euthymios as though it were the word of God Himself, and went and subjected himself to whatever discipline Theoktistos sought to lay upon him. He served in the community of Saint Theoktistos for ten years longer until the age of thirty, in fasting and vigil and prayer, and showed great love for his monastic brethren, as well as great skill and diligence in holding the Divine Liturgy and the monastic hours.

After the repose of the saintly abbot Theoktistos, Saint Sabbas asked the permission of his successor as abbot, Logginos, to go out into the wilderness and lead the life of a solitary anchorite and hesychast. After taking counsel with Saint Euthymios and considering the great virtue of the young monk, Abbot Logginos gave his assent, and Saint Sabbas went to live in a cave some short ways south of the abbey of Saint Theoktistos. Here he prayed, held vigil, fasted five days out of the week, and made crafts with the work of his hands, and brought them to the monastery on the sixth day where he also partook of food and the Eucharist. During Great Lent Saint Sabbas stayed with Saint Euthymios and one of his disciples named Dometian in a desert place in the Wâdî al-Jûz. There they fasted, even barely drinking water, and prayed constantly. Saint Euthymios reposed in the Lord on the twentieth of January, 473.

This wâdî was the place which Saint Sabbas chose for his desert strivings, though he went out further into the desert and lived in a cave there, guided by an angel of God. This became the centre of the Dayr Mâr Sâbâ. Saint Sabbas himself forged a close friendship with Saint Theodosios the Cœnobiarch at this time, and attracted to himself some 150 hermits and monks who together built the lavra. In the early days of the monastery, the ancient Enemy of mankind set eagerly to work sowing discord among the monks, and from their envious hearts they began to grumble against Saint Sabbas, slander him, and asked Patriarch Salloustios to grant them a replacement abbot. Far from granting their wish, however, Salloustios saw through their envy and instead appointed Saint Sabbas a priest as well as confirming him as abbot. Patriarch Salloustios also ordered that the central lavra church be renovated. This occurred in the year 491.

Many new monks came to the Dayr Mâr Sâbâ. Of particular importance among the Sabbaïtes were monks from the Armenian nation, who were drawn to Saint Sabbas’s holy way of life. A certain Bishop Johannes of Köln (not to be confused with the Dominican friar of the Counter-Reformation) even joined the lavra. Saint Sabbas built a cœnobitic monastery at Kastellion, a fortress to the north-east of the lavra. Patriarch Salloustios then proclaimed Saint Sabbas to be the abbot of all the anchorites, and Saint Theodosios to be abbot of all the cœnobites in the Holy Land. Saint Sabbas would joke with Saint Theodosios, that Sabbas was the ‘abbot of the abbots’, while Theodosios was the ‘abbot of the children’, and that Theodosios had the harder job.

Saint Sabbas continued to build new monastic communities and cave-dwellings for hermits. It was during this time in his life as well that he came into conflict with those in authority. If Saint Sabbas had lived an inward life of contemplation, of repentance, of collection of the virtues, he had not forgotten that in the outward world action is sometimes demanded. Emperor Anastasios I Dikoros, who sympathised with the more doctrinaire Monophysites, had begun deporting and exiling Chalcedonian priests and bishops on charges of ‘Nestorianism’. Soon even the new Chalcedon-supporting Patriarch of Jerusalem, Salloustios’s successor Elias, found himself a target of political repression, for his support of the Patriarch of Antioch, Flavian II. Saint Sabbas himself travelled to Constantinople to protest this action and defend Elias in speech, and subsequently organised the anchorites and monks of Dayr Mâr Sâbâ to stage a protest and defend Elias with their bodies. These actions were only partially successful and Elias was still sentenced to exile, where he reposed in the Lord. But Saint Sabbas and Saint Theodosios were able to successfully convince the Jerusalem Synod to appoint Iōannēs III to the Jerusalem Patriarchate. Although Iōannēs was an Alexandrian, his sympathies had been with the more moderate Miaphysite party, and he later embraced the Council of Chalcedon with both arms. In this way, the Chalcedonian creed was saved from being completely suppressed in the Christian East.

Saint Sabbas made a second trip to Constantinople at the age of ninety-two, where he met Emperor Justinian. Here again his pleas were for mercy and for good works. He interceded with the Emperor to spare the populace of the Holy City from a general political repression, which he had planned on account of the Ben Sabar revolt. While he had the ear of the Emperor, Sabbas also encouraged him to promote infrastructure and public architecture in the Holy Land, and prophesied that in so doing Emperor Justinian would win back the West for the Empire (which he did). Sabbas also spent the last years of his life preaching against the various hæresies which threatened the Church. He also by his prayers brought the rain which ended a drought which had plagued the Holy Land for five years following the exile of Patriarch Elias.

Saint Sabbas reposed on the fifth of December, 532, having striven lifelong in monastic asceticism, prayer, fasting and almsgiving. He was recognised as a saint almost immediately. When his relics were uncovered fifteen years later, in the translation from Jerusalem to Constantinople, they were found to be incorrupt. His importance for the life of the Church in his own time was so great that his life was committed to writing by the monk Kyrillos of Skythopolis in 557. The relics of Saint Sabbas rested in Constantinople until 1204. When the Crusaders burnt and pillaged Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade, Saint Sabbas’s remains were among the plunder that was stolen and carted off to Venice. It was only in 1965, in the wake of the Second Vatican Council, that the Roman Catholic Pope Paul VI formally apologised to the Eastern Orthodox Church and – as a gesture of goodwill and repentance – returned the relics of Saint Sabbas to Dayr Mâr Sâbâ in Jerusalem. Great and venerable father Sabbas, humble servant of all and teacher of monks and anchorites, pray unto Christ our God that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint Sabbas of Jerusalem, Tone 8:

With the streams of your tears you cultivated the barrenness of the desert;
And by your deep sighs, you bore fruit a hundredfold in your labours.
You became a luminary, shining upon the world with miracles.
O our righteous Father Sabbas, intercede with Christ God that our souls be saved!

Holy Greatmartyr Barbara and Martyr Iouliana of Ba‘albak

Saint Barbara of Ba‘albak

The fourth of December, as well as being the feast-day of Saint John of Damascus, is also the feast-day of Saint Barbara in the Orthodox Church of America, and with her her fellow-martyr Saint Iouliana. She suffered for Christ in the year 311, during the reign of Maximianus Herculius. Saint Barbara is commemorated universally throughout the Orthodox Church and her cultus is widespread even in Catholic and Lutheran countries, particularly as a patron of gunners, demolition workers and people who handle explosives. She is commemorated locally in Lebanon and Syria with a day on the seventeenth of December, which is her feast-day on the Julian Calendar.

Barbara [Gk. Βαρβάρα, Syr. Barbara ܒܪܒܪܐ, Ar. Barbârah بربارة] was a young woman of Heliopolis – modern day Ba‘albak in Lebanon – who was born to a wealthy pagan father, Dioskoros, and his beautiful wife. Barbara’s mother died at a young age, and she was raised by Dioskoros alone. She grew up in the image of her mother, into great beauty; seeing her, Dioskoros sought to hide her away from the covetous eyes of men. To do so, he built for her a tall tower and ensconced her there, where only her tutors – themselves all pagans – were allowed in to visit her. Still, Barbara was as bright as she was beautiful, and the more she inquired into the pagan philosophies the less she was satisfied with them. She looked out from her tower toward the hills and trees and meadows with their flowers and the skies with their stars. Barbara marvelled at their beauty, and began to wonder about the first cause and Creator of so excellent and harmonious a cosmos.

Independently, and of her own intelligence, she became convinced that the Creator of the universe could not be fashioned into or worshipped as a soulless and lifeless idol, and she began to reject the worship that her father and her teachers offered to the Roman gods. She committed herself to a life of virgin purity and contemplation, the desire to know and understand the true God who had created the universe burning brightly within her heart.

Eventually, word of her beauty got out from the tower and around into Heliopolis, and soon many young men came to Dioskoros, seeking her hand in marriage. But she rejected them all, despite their own suits and despite the urgings of her father. Dioskoros, thinking that life in full seclusion had influenced her, gave her a greater degree of freedom and allowed her to go into the city to make and choose her friends. It happened that Barbara made the acquaintance of several Christian girls living in Heliopolis, and – eager to be instructed – she began to inquire about the doctrines of Christianity, about the Triune nature of the Creator, about the Word of God who came in the flesh and gave His life for the world’s life. Barbara was quickly convinced of the Christian doctrines. She met, and was secretly catechised and baptised by, an Alexandrian priest who was passing through Heliopolis in his return to his home country, and had taken on a merchant’s guise to avoid persecution.

It happened at this time that Dioskoros was building a bathhouse at his villa. He had given careful instruction to the architects, to place two windows in the south wall. However, after Dioskoros had left, Barbara gave new instructions to the architects for them to build a third window between them, so as to admit a trinity of light in honour of the Holy Trinity. She also traced with her finger a cross in the wall, which was etched so deeply into the marble that it seemed as though it had been made by a tool of hard steel. It was later found that Saint Barbara’s footprints were likewise indelibly inscribed on the stone of the bathhouse. After Saint Barbara’s martyrdom, the waters of this bathhouse were highly sought after for their curative properties, and the power of God wrought so many healing wonders there that the mediæval Byzantine hagiographer Saint Symeōn Metaphrastēs compared it to the River Jordan and the Pool of Siloam.

When Dioskoros returned from his trip, he was displeased with the changes that had been made to his bathhouse in his absence. Eventually it came out that his daughter was responsible for the alterations, and she boldly declared before him that she did not worship the pagan gods, but instead the Triune God who had created the Cosmos, and who had become flesh in the person of Christ for the world’s salvation. When he heard this, Dioskoros flew into a rage and grabbed a knife, seeking to strike his daughter with it. Saint Barbara fled him, and Dioskoros gave chase. She fled into a crevice in a hill which suddenly flung itself up in the middle of the road, and would not permit Dioskoros to cross. The crevice opened into a cave on the other side of the hill, and here she hid from her father.

After a long search for his daughter proved unsuccessful, Dioskoros encountered two shepherds on the hill, who told him where he could find Barbara. Dioskoros dragged Barbara out of the cave, beating her mercilessly, and even gave her into the power of the city præfect Martianus. The præfect subjected Barbara to further tortures, lashing her body with rawhide and rubbing a hair cloth into the wounds to worsen the pain. Saint Barbara endured these ordeals in prayer and asked the Heavenly Bridegroom to give her strength. The following morning Saint Barbara was publicly subjected to more gruesome tortures.

A local Greco-Syrian woman, Iouliana, was present in the crowd when they tortured the great-martyr. She took pity on the beautiful and innocent young girl who was being tormented for her faith, and she began to loudly condemn Martianus and the executioners, and declaimed in a raised voice the lordship of Christ. The executioners seized her as well alongside Saint Barbara. Both saints Barbara and Iouliana were tortured for a long time, their flesh being scourged with iron hooks, and then paraded through the city naked to the jeers of the crowd. An angel of God, in answer to Saint Barbara’s prayers, brought shimmering raiments to the women that shielded their bodies from the eyes of the assembly. The two women, Saint Barbara and Saint Iouliana, were brought to the execution ground and beheaded, with Dioskoros wielding the sword that ended his own daughter’s life. God was swift to punish the unfeeling father and the wicked præfect both, for their days were ended when they were struck by lightning.

Saint Barbara was very quickly recognised as a great martyr and a saint among the Christians of Heliopolis, and her veneration spread far beyond Ba‘albak in the centuries which followed. Her relics were translated from Lebanon to Constantinople in the 500s. In 1104, the relics of Saint Barbara were brought from Constantinople to the monastery of Saint Michael of the Golden Domes in Kiev – a wedding-present for Prince Sviatopolk II and his third wife, the Byzantine princess Barbara Komnena. They stayed in this building until the Second World War when they were transferred to Saint Vladimir’s Cathedral. Holy great martyr Barbara, worshipper of the Creator and faithful bride of the Bridegroom, pray unto Christ our God that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint Barbara, Tone 8:

Let us honor the holy martyr Barbara,
For as a bird she escaped the snares of the enemy,
And destroyed them through the help and defence of the Cross.

Venerable Iakōbos the Anchorite of Kyrrhos

The theatre at Kyrrhos

Today is Thanksgiving in the United States, which in the Orthodox Church of America is recognised as a day on which the fast is relaxed for those of us who spend the day with family together in a day of festive gratitude. It is also, however, the feast-day of Saint Iakōbos of Kyrrhos, also known as Saint James the Solitary. As one of my friends on social media put it: ‘Eating a bunch of meat sure is a weird way to celebrate a solitary monastic’, to which I responded: ‘He is ‘Arab. He understands.’ Saint Iakōbos, who may have been named for the Venerable Father of Nisibis, is one of the followers of Saint Marōn, whom Blessed Theodoret of Kyrrhos says he surpassed in his ascetic labours, though the two came to the same place in the end. What follows here is the account of that self-same Theodoret, from his History of the Monks of Syria who was fortunate to have known this saint and benefitted from his wisdom while he was still living.

Now that we have proceeded through the contests of the athletes of virtue described above, narrating in summary their laborious exercises, their exertions in the contests and their most glorious and splendid victories, let us now record, and leave to posterity as a profitable memorial, the way of life of those still living, who contend magnificently and strive to surpass their predecessors in exertion. For just as the life of the conspicuous saints of the past brought the greatest benefit to their successors, so the accounts of these men will become models for those after us. At the head of these I shall place the great James, for he has precedence over the others both in time and in labour, and it is by emulating him that his emulators do wondrous and extraordinary things. It has turned out, I know not how, that this name has come at the head of both the departed and those still alive; for in recounting the life of the former I placed at the head the divine James who scattered the Persian army by prayer and, when the surrounding walls of the town fell down, both refused to allow the capture of the city and forced the enemy to flee by sending against them gnats and mosquitoes. Therefore let the man with the same name and the same ways come at the head of the company of the contestants still alive, not for the reason that he shares the name, but because he also emulated his virtue and became himself a model of philosophy for others.

A companion of the great Marōn and a recipient of his divine teaching, he has eclipsed his teacher by greater labours. For Marōn had a precinct of the ancient imposture as enclosure, pitched a tent of hairy skins, and used this to ward off the assaults of rain and snow. But this man, bidding farewell to all these things, tent and hut and enclosure, has the sky for roof, and lets in all the contrasting assaults of the air, as he is now inundated by torrential rain, now frozen by frost and snow, at other times burnt and consumed by the rays of the sun, and exercises endurance over everything. Competing as if in the body of another, and striving with zeal to overcome the nature of the body – for clad in this mortal and passible one he lives as in an impassable one – and practicing in a body the life without a body, he exclaims with the inspired Paul, ‘Though walking in the flesh, we do not wage war according to the flesh, for our weapons are not fleshly but mighty through God for the destruction of strongholds, as we destroy arguments and every high thing exalted against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive for obedience to Christ.’ For these contests that surpass nature he rehearsed by means of lesser labours: it was by earlier immuring himself in a small cell, freeing his soul from the tumults outside and nailing his mind to the thought of God that he engaged in the rehearsal of complete virtue.

After training himself perfectly and accustoming his soul to excellent labours, he dared greater contests. Repairing to that mountain which is thirty stades distant from this town, he has made it distinguished and revered, although formerly it was totally undistinguished and sterile. So great is the blessing it is confidently believed to have now received that the soil on it has been quite exhausted by those coming from all sides to carry it off for their benefit. Living in this place he is observed by all comers, since he has, as I said, no cave or tent or hut or enclosure or obstructing wall; but he is to be seen praying or resting, standing or sitting, in health or in the grip of some infirmity, so that it is unceasingly under the eyes of spectators that he strives in combat and repels the necessities of nature - nor are other men who have had a respectable upbringing ready to evacuate excrement in the presence of strangers, let alone a man trained in the highest philosophy.

And I mention this, not having learnt it from another, but having myself been a witness. Fourteen years ago, a grave illness came upon him which caused him a condition to be expected in one with a mortal body. It was the height of summer, and the heat of the sun’s rays was kindled more intensely, with a lulling of the winds and the air remaining motionless. The disease was a flux of bile moving downwards, hurting the guts, causing pressure and forcing one to run outside. It was then that I witnessed the great endurance of this man. For while very many men of the country had assembled with the intention of seizing the victorious body, he sat there torn by contrary impulses: while nature pressed him to go and evacuate, shame before the attendant crowd compelled him to stay in the same position. Noticing this, I addressed many exhortations to those who had come, and many threats, ordering them to go away. Finally I applied to them my episcopal authority, and in the evening, with great effort, sent them away. But even after their departure the man of God was not defeated by nature, but maintained his endurance until the dead of night set in and compelled everyone to go home. Coming to him again on the next day, I saw that the burning heat had become still more intense and that the fever that beset him was nourished and increased by the fire without; so alleging a headache, I said that the impact of the sun’s rays was causing me discomfort, and asked him to improvise for me some slight shade by him. He gave the order, and by fixing three stakes and putting two cloaks on them we contrived some shade. When he bid me go inside, I replied, ‘It would be disgraceful, father, for me, who am young and strong, to obtain this relief, while you, who are beset by a violent fever and need such solace, sit outside, receiving the impact of the sun's rays. Therefore (I continued) if you want me to enjoy the shade, come and share with me this scanty tent; for I wish to stay beside you, but am hindered by the rays.’ On hearing this plea he consented, and chose to render me service.

When we were enjoying the shade together, I started on another plea, and said I needed to lie down, since my hip found sitting painful. Again he begged me to lie down, and heard in reply that I could not bear to lie down and see him seated: ‘Therefore,’ I said, ‘if you want me to enjoy this rest as well, let us lie down together, father, for I will not have the embarrassment of lying down alone.’ By this plea I outwitted his endurance and gave him the relief of lying down. Now that he was stretched out on the ground, I made agreeable remarks to him, to make his soul more cheerful; and putting my hand inside his clothing, I tried gently to rub his back. It was then that I perceived the great load of iron that bound his waist and his neck; and other chains, two in front and two behind, extending obliquely from the circle round his neck to the circle below, and forming the shape of the letter X, connected the two circles to each other, both in front and behind; and beneath his clothing his arms bore other bonds of this kind round his elbows. On perceiving this tremendously heavy load, I begged him to assist his sick body, which could not bear at the same time both the voluntary load and the involuntary infirmity. ‘At the moment, father,’ I said, ‘the fever is doing the work of the iron; when it abates, let us at that stage impose on the body again the labour from the iron.’ He yielded to this as well, bewitched by these many words of enchantment.

On this occasion he recovered easily after a few days of illness; but at a later time he fell ill of a more serious disease. As many came together from all sides to seize his body, all the men of the town, when they heard of it, hastened together, soldiers and civilians, some taking up military equipment, others using whatever weapons lay to hand. Forming up in close order, they fought by shooting arrows and slinging stones - not to wound, but simply to instil fear. Having thus driven off the local inhabitants, they placed the all-round contestant on a litter, while he was quite unconscious of what was happening - he was not even conscious of his hair being plucked out by the peasants -, and set off to the city. Arriving at the shrine of the Prophet, they placed the litter in the retreat adjoining it. Someone came to Berœa, where I happened to be, to tell what had happened and bring the news of his death; immediately I made haste and spent the whole night traveling, and just after daybreak reached the man of God, who was neither speaking nor able to recognize any of those present. But when I addressed him to tell him that the great Acacius sent his respects, he instantly opened his eyes, asked how he was, and inquired when I had come. When I had answered these questions, he shut his eyes again. After three days had passed, in the evening, he asked where he was; on being told, he was extremely vexed, and demanded to be taken back at once to the mountain. In my wish to serve him in everything, I gave immediate instructions for his litter to be brought and to be carried to the desired spot. It was then that I witnessed the lack of vanity in this, to me venerable, person.

On the next day I brought him some barley gruel, which I had cooled - since he refused to take anything hot, having renounced entirely the use of fire. Since he was unwilling to partake, I said, ‘Show consideration, father, for all of us, for we think your health to be preservation for all. For not only are you set before us as a model that is of benefit, but you also help us by your prayers and procure us God's favour. If the disruption of your habits torments you, father’ (I continued), ‘endure this as well, for this too is a form of philosophy. Just as when in health and desiring food you overcame appetite by endurance, so now when you have no appetite show endurance by taking food.’ While I was saying this, the man of God Polychronius was also present, who, to support my plea, volunteered to be the first to take food, although it was morning and he often fed his body at seven day intervals. Worsted by this reasoning, he swallowed one cup of the gruel with his eyes shut, just as we normally do with bitter drinks.

I think it useful to reveal as well the following example of the philosophy of his soul, which occurred after we induced him to wet with water the feet that out of debility had lost the ability to walk. The cup was lying nearby, and one of the attendants tried to cover it with a basket so that it should not be visible to those who visited him. ‘Why,’ he asked, ‘do you cover the cup?’ The other replied, ‘To stop it being exposed to the gaze of visitors.’ ‘Clear off, boy,’ he exclaimed, ‘do not hide from men what is manifest to the God of the universe. Wishing to live for him alone, I have paid no thought to my reputation with men; for what benefit is it, if the latter think more of my asceticism but God thinks less? For they are not the givers of reward for labours, but God is the bestower.’ Who would not be overwhelmed with admiration both at these words and at the mind, so superior to human reputation, that bred them?

I learnt of something similar that occurred on some other occasion. It was evening, late evening, and the time for nourishment. So taking the potsherd lying to hand, he ate the soaked lentils - for this was his food. There came someone from the town, entrusted with some military exaction. James, seeing him at a distance, did not put his lentils aside, but continued swallowing the food as usual. And thinking him to be a demonic illusion, he assailed him with words, to drive him off as an enemy; and to show he was not afraid, he continued during this to put lentils in his mouth. The man being assailed with abuse besought him, and declared he was a man, and that he had arrived at this time because obliged by an oath to leave the city towards evening. ‘Be of good courage,’ said the other, ‘and do not be afraid, but pray and then depart. Be my table-companion, and share this food with me.’ While saying this, he filled his hand and gave a portion of the lentils. In this way he has expelled from his mind the passion of vainglory together with the others.

But of his endurance it is superfluous to speak, since sight is the witness. Often after snow has fallen for three days and as many nights, he has been so buried, when lying prone in prayer to God, that not even a tiny piece of the rags that cover him can be seen. Often his neighbours have to use forks and shovels and in this way remove the snow covering him, in order to drag out and revive his supine body.

As a result of these labours he has culled the gifts of divine grace, and these are shared by all who desire it. Through his blessing many fevers have been quenched – and still are – many agues have abated or departed completely, many demons have been forced to flee; and water blessed by his hand becomes a preventive medicine. Who is ignorant of the resuscitation of a dead child that occurred through his prayer? In the suburbs of the city lived the child's parents, who had begotten many children and escorted them all prematurely to the grave. So when this last child was born, the father hastened to the man of God, begging to obtain a long life for it, and promising to dedicate it to God, should it live. After living for four years, it came to the end of its life. The father was absent; but the moment he returned, he saw the child being already carried out. Snatching it from the bier, he said, ‘It is fitting that I fulfil my promise and give the child, even though dead, to the man of God.’ So he took it as he had promised, and laid it before those holy feet, saying what he had already said to his household. The man of God, placing the child before him and kneeling down, lay prostrate as he entreated the Master of life and death. In the late afternoon the child made utterance and called its father. This inspired man, perceiving thereby that the Master had accepted the petition and bestowed life, got up, and after worshipping the One who does the will of those who fear him and hearkens to their requests, completed his prayer and restored the child to its begetter. I myself saw the child and heard the father narrating the miracle; and I have transmitted to many this story worthy of the Apostles, knowing that it will be a cause of great benefit to those who hear it.

I myself have often enjoyed his help. I shall recall one or two instances, knowing that it would be the height of ingratitude to consign to silence, and not to make known, his varied good services. The abominable Marcion had sown many thorns of impiety in the territory of the city of Kyrrhos (Cyrus); trying to pull these out by the root, I shook every sail and applied persistently every device. But those who received these attentions from me ‘instead of loving me (in the words of the prophet) calumniated me, and returned against me evil for good, and hatred for my love.’ They tried to make war invisibly by using magic spells and having recourse to the cooperation of evil demons. Once by night there came a wicked demon, who exclaimed in Syriac, ‘Why, Theodoret, do you make war on Marcion? Why on earth have you joined battle with him? What harm has he ever done to you? End the war, stop your hostility, or you will learn by experience how good it is to stay quiet. Know well that I would long ago have pierced you through, if I had not seen the choir of the martyrs with James protecting you.’ I heard this, and said to one of my friends sleeping nearby, ‘Can you hear, my friend, what is being said?’ ‘I heard it all,’ he replied, ‘and though I wanted to get up and peer and find out who was speaking, I kept quiet for your sake, supposing you to be asleep.’ So getting up we both peered about, and saw no one moving and heard no one speaking; the others who lived with us had also heard these words. I realized that by “the choir of martyrs” was meant the flask of oil of the martyrs, with a blessing gathered from very many martyrs, which was hung up by my bed; and under my head lay an old cloak of the great James, which for me had been stronger than any defences of steel.

When I was about to attack the chief village of these same men, and many things got in the way to hinder my setting out, I sent to my Isaiah, begging to enjoy divine reinforcement. ‘Have confidence,’ he said, ‘for all those hindrances have been swept away like spiders’ webs; God taught me this by night, not sketching a shadowy dream but displaying a vision. For I saw (he continued), as I was beginning the hymnody, in that part where those places are situated, a fiery serpent crawling from the west to the east and carried through mid-air. After completing three more prayers, I saw it curled up and displaying a circular shape, touching its tail with its head. After finishing eight more prayers, I saw it cut in two and dissolved into smoke.’ This is what he foresaw, and we witnessed how the issue agreed with the prediction. For in the morning, under the command of the serpent, originator of evil, those who were formerly of the company of Marcion, but now belong to the host of the Apostles, set out from the west, brandishing naked swords against us. About the third hour of the day they formed up in close order, taking thought only for their own protection, just as the serpent covered his head with his tail. At the eighth hour they dispersed, giving us room to enter the village. And we immediately found a serpent made out of bronze material which they worshipped – for having openly declared war against the Creator and Maker of the universe, they were eager to serve the accursed serpent as being his enemy. Such are the good services which I have myself received from this, to me venerable, person.

Since my account has entered on the narration of divine revelations, I shall narrate what I heard from this tongue incapable of deceit. He told this story not out of vanity – for his godly soul is far removed from this passion – but because a certain need compelled him to tell what he wished to hide. I was asking him to beg the God of the universe to make the crop clear of weeds and free it altogether from the seeds of heresy, for I was utterly tormented by the error of the abominable Marcion’s having so strong a hold. To my earnest entreaty he replied, ‘You need neither myself nor some other intercessor with God, for you have the famous John, the mouthpiece of the Word, the forerunner of the Master, who constantly transmits this petition on your behalf.’ When I declared that I had faith in the prayers of this saint as in those of the other holy apostles and prophets whose relics had lately been brought to us, he said, ‘Have confidence, since you have John the Baptist.’ But not even so could I bear to keep silent. I pressed my inquiries all the more in my desire to learn why he made mention of this one in particular. ‘I wanted,’ he replied, ‘to embrace his beloved relics.’ When I said I would not bring them unless he promised to tell me what he had seen, he gave the promise, and I on the next day brought what he longed for; and ordering everyone to keep at a distance, he recounted to me alone the following. ‘At the time,’ he said, ‘that you welcomed with Davidic choral singing the arrival from Phœnicia and Palestine of these city-guardians, a thought occurred to me whether these were in reality the relics of the famous John and not of some other martyr of the same name. Now one day later I got up at night for the hymnody, and saw someone clad in white who said, “Brother James, tell me why you did not come to meet us on our arrival.” When I asked who they were, he replied, “Those who came yesterday from Phœnicia and Palestine. While everyone welcomed us enthusiastically – the shepherd and the people, townsfolk and countrymen – you alone did not take part in this veneration.”’ He was alluding to the doubts I felt. ‘At this (James continued) I replied, Even in the absence of you and the others, I venerate you and worship the God of all things. Again on the next day, at the same time, he himself appeared: “Brother James,” he said, “look at the one standing there, whose raiment is like the snow in colour, and before whom is placed a furnace of fire.” I moved my eyes in that direction and surmised it was John the Baptist, for he wore his cloak, and was stretching out his hand as if baptizing. “It is the one,” he said, “whom you have guessed it to be.” And on another occasion (he continued), when you departed by night to their principal village, in order to punish them as seditious, and bade me address still more earnest prayer to God, I persevered without sleep entreating the Master. Then I heard a voice saying, “Fear not, James. The great John the Baptist all night entreats the God of the universe; for there would have been great slaughter, had not the insolence of the devil been extinguished by his intercession.”’ After recounting this to me, he charged me to keep the knowledge to myself and not make others share it; but I, for the sake of the benefit, have not only recounted the story to many, but also entrust it to writing.

He said that he had also beheld the patriarch Joseph, with his hoary head and beard, emitting in old age the radiance of youth, and at the summit of virtue naming himself the last of the saints. ‘While I,’ he continued ‘declared him to be the first of those who shared a tomb with him, he called himself the last.’

He also recounted to me the attacks of all kinds made on him by the evil demons. ‘At my very entry,’ he said, ‘into this way of life, I used to see someone naked, with the appearance of an Ægyptian, shooting fire from his eyes. I, on seeing him, would be filled with fear, have recourse to prayer and could not bear to take food, for it was at this time that he used to appear. When seven, eight, ten days had passed and I remained without food, finally, despising the evil onslaught, I sat down and took food. But he could not bear my elevation of mind, and threatened to strike me with a rod. But I (he continued) said, “If you have been given permission by the Master of the universe, then strike, and I shall receive the blow with pleasure, as being struck by Him; but if you have not been given permission, you will not strike, however infinite your frenzy.” On hearing this, he on this occasion fled away. His frenzy, however, continued in secret. Water was brought to me from below twice a week. Meeting the carrier and imitating my appearance, he would take the water and, after telling him to depart, pour it away. This he did not merely twice but three times, and the affliction of thirst made war upon me. In my torment, I asked the usual carrier, “Why on earth for fifteen days have you not brought water?” He replied that he had brought it three times already, indeed four times, and that I had received it from him. “And where,” I asked, “did I receive this water from you when you brought it?” When he indicated the place, I said: “Even if on innumerable occasions you see me there, do not hand over the jar until you come to this place.”

After I had in this way frustrated his plot, I was tested again by another one. Crying out at night, he said: “I shall fill you with such a stench, and spread so evil a reputation, that no one from anywhere will look at you.” To this (he continued) I made reply: “I shall concede thanks to you, for against your will you will be doing your enemy a kindness, by making him luxuriate all the more in remembering God; for enjoying greater leisure, I shall keep up as my uninterrupted task contemplation of the divine beauty.” After a few days had passed, (he continued) when at midday I was performing the customary liturgy, I saw two women coming down from the mountain. When in vexation at this unusual occurrence I tried to throw stones at them, I recalled the threat of the avenging spirit and guessed this to be the evil reputation. So I shouted that even if they sat on my shoulders I would not throw stones at them or chase them away, but have recourse to prayer alone. When I said this, they vanished, and the visual illusion ended as I spoke.

After this again (he continued) I was praying by night, when the noise of a carriage reached me, as also the cry of a driver and of horses whinnying. The novelty of the thing bewildered me, for I reflected that no governor was staying in the city at that time, that the road was not for carriages, and that the time of day was not suitable for carriages. As I was having these thoughts, there was heard a tumult of a great company approaching and the cries of the rod-bearers in front, hissing to clear the crowd out of the way and make the road ready for the governor. When they seemed to me to be extremely close (he continued), I said, “Who are you? Where have you come from? For what purpose have you come at this time? How long will you keep up your jesting, you wretch, and presume upon the divine forbearance?” This I said as, facing east, I addressed petition to God. The other gave me a push, but had not the strength to knock me down – for divine grace resisted – and immediately the whole apparition vanished.’

He related too how, at the time when those wicked brigands coming from Isauria burnt and plundered most of the east, he was terrified at the thought, not of being killed – he was not so in love with the body – but of enslavement and captivity and witnessing impiety and lawlessness. The devil, perceiving this fear – for he often heard him express it to his friends – imitated by night the wailing of women. ‘I thought I could hear,’ he continued, ‘the enemy arriving and setting fire to the villages. I at once parted the hair on my head, drawing some on the left and some on the right down my shoulders to my chest, and made my neck ready to be severed by the sword, so that receiving the blow immediately, I might be spared the sight I deprecated. When day came and some people arrived, after spending the whole night like this, all the time expecting an assault, I asked what they had heard of the Isaurians. They replied that during these days they had heard nothing of them. That (he concluded) was how I discovered that this too was a diabolical illusion.’

‘On another occasion,’ he said, ‘in the likeness of a youth in full vigour, resplendent in bloom and adorned with blond hair, he came up to me both grinning and flirting. But I (he continued), was armed with indignation and drove him off with abuse. But he persevered with his wanton look and with a grin and speech that reeked of pleasure. At this point I intensified my anger: “How do you have the strength,” I said, “to traverse the whole world and lay such snares for all men?” He replied that he was not on his own, but that a mass of demons was scattered through the whole world, to play tricks and be at work simultaneously; for by their playful appearance they are at work to destroy the whole human race. “But as for you,” I said, “go away: you are being ordered by Christ, who by means of swine sent a whole legion into the abyss.” As soon as he heard this, he fled, not able either to endure the power of the Master’s name or to look at the radiance of the philosophers of His household.’

I know many more stories than these, but I do not wish to record them, lest their quantity become for the more weak an excuse for disbelief. To those who see the man of God no story of this kind appears incredible, because the virtue they see confirms the stories. But since this composed narrative will pass down to posterity and most people trust their ears less than their eyes, let us adjust the narration to the weakness of the hearers.

Others built him a great tomb a few stades away in the neighbouring village, while I prepared a grave for him in the shrine of the triumphant Apostles. But on learning of this, the man of God besought me many times to bury his body on the mountain itself; I replied as often that it is not fitting for one who is indifferent to the present life to take thought for his burial. But when I saw that this was dose to his heart, I agreed and consented, and made arrangements for the coffin to be carved and brought up; and when I saw that the stone was being damaged by the frost, I ordered a small hut to be made for the coffin. When, following his orders, we had completed the construction and put on the roof, he said: ‘I will not allow this tomb to be called that of James. I want it to be a shrine of the triumphant martyrs, and myself like some immigrant to be placed in another tomb, honoured to dwell with them.’ This he not only declared but accomplished. Collecting from all sources many prophets, many apostles, and as many martyrs as possible, he placed them in a single coffin, in his wish to dwell with the assembly of the saints, and his desire to share with them both the resurrection and the privilege of the vision of God.

This is sufficient to prove his modesty of spirit. Although he had amassed such wealth of virtue, while living in extreme poverty, he desired to dwell with the company of the rich. Of what kind are the labours of this, to me venerable, person, how great his contests, how much grace from God he has enjoyed, what victories he has won and with what crowns he has been adorned, these stories are sufficient to teach. Since some people accuse him of peevishness of character and are annoyed at his love of solitude and tranquillity, it is after saying a few words on this that I shall bring the account to an end.

As I have said already, he lies exposed to everyone’s gaze, being neither fenced round with an enclosure nor sheltered by some hut or tent; each of his visitors, because hindered by no barrier, goes to him at once and wants to make conversation. Other lovers of this philosophy have enclosures and doors and the enjoyment of tranquillity; the recluse opens when wishing to, delays as long as he wants, and has his fill of divine contemplation as long as he wishes. But here there is none of this; and this is the essential reason why he gets annoyed with those who are a nuisance at the very time of prayer. If at his bidding they go away at once, he again concentrates on prayer; but if they continue to be a nuisance and do not obey when ordered once or even twice, then he is annoyed and sends them away with a rebuke. I myself have had a discussion with him on this matter. I told him that some people were upset at being driven away without even a blessing. ‘It would be proper,’ I said, ‘for those who come for this and make a journey of many days to depart not in vexation but full of joy, to feast the ignorant with stories of your philosophy.’ He replied, ‘I did not come to the mountain for another’s sake but for my own. Bearing the wounds of so many sins, I need much treatment, and because of this I beseech our Master to give me the antidotes to wickedness. How, then, would it not be absurd and utterly senseless to break the sequence of petition and make conversation with men in between? If I happened to be the domestic of a human being like myself, and at the time for serving the master failed to bring the food or drink at the right time but instead made conversation with one of my fellow-servants, what great blows would I not justly receive? And if I went to the governor and, while relating an injustice I had suffered from someone, broke off my discourse in the middle and made some other remarks to one of those present, do you not think that the judge would be annoyed, withdraw his assistance, and have me whipped and driven from the bar? How could it be right for a domestic to behave appropriately towards a master, and a plaintiff towards a judge, but for me, as I approach God, the eternal Master, the Judge most just and King of all things, not to make my approach like these, but during my prayers to turn to my fellow-servants and hold a long conversation with them?’ This is what I heard and have transmitted to those who had taken offence; and he seems to me have spoken well and fairly. In addition to what he said, it is characteristic of lovers to overlook everyone else and cleave to the one they cherish and love, to dream of him by night and think of him by day. It is, I think, for this reason that he is annoyed when, in the middle of the contemplation he longs for, he is prevented from being immersed in the beauty he loves.

We have composed this in the form of a narrative not of a panegyric, paying close attention to brevity, in order not by length to exhaust our readers. If he outlives this narration for a time, he will doubtless add innumerable other achievements to his earlier ones, and others will record them. As for us, great is the longing to depart from here. May the Umpire of the athletes of piety grant this man an end worthy of his labours, and make the rest of his course consonant with the earlier part, so that he may reach the finishing-post as victor; and may He through the prayers of this man support our weakness, so that strengthened we may retrieve our many defeats and depart from this life with victory.

As we can see, Blessed Theodoret had the very highest of respect for this holy man of Kyrrhos. Strange though it may be, if today we here in America have leave to feast in an expression of gratitude to God, we should temper the day with the knowledge that this man, Saint Iakōbos, kept a lifelong fast, and lived lifelong in the deserts of Syria, to express the same gratitude to God for all things, and moreover was of great help and a great blessing in the lives of others – not least of them Theodoret himself. Holy and venerable Iakōbos, blessed ascetic and hermit of the Syrian desert, pray unto Christ our God that our souls may be saved!

Apolytikion for Saint James the Solitary, Tone 8:

By a flood of tears you made the desert fertile,
And your longing for God brought forth fruits in abundance.
By the radiance of miracles you illumined the whole universe!
O our holy father James, pray to Christ our God to save our souls!