CHAPTER XII.

ILLNESS OF CHRYSOSTOM—HOMILIES ON FESTIVALS

OF SAINTS AND MARTYRS—CHARACTER OF THESE

FESTIVALS—PILGRIMAGES—RELIQUES—CHARACTER OF PEASANT

CLERGY IN NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ANTIOCH. A.D. 387.

Very probably the physical labour and mental strain which Chrysostom

had undergone during the events recorded in the previous chapter may

have brought on the illness to which he alludes in the homily preached

on the Sunday before Ascension Day.[328] He was prevented by this

attack from taking part in the services which were held some time after

Easter under the conduct of Bishop Flavian at the chapels built over

the remains of martyrs and saints.[329] A variety of homilies delivered

by Chrysostom at such “martyries” on other occasions are extant, and it

may be as well to introduce here such indications as can be collected

from them of the general feeling of the Church, as well as of himself,

with regard to saints, and such kindred subjects as pilgrimages and

reliques.

Churches had in most instances been erected to commemorate the death of

a martyr, or to mark the spot where he died. Tertullian’s saying that

“the blood of martyrs was the seed of the Church” thus became verified

in a literal, material sense. Socrates (iv. 23) even speaks of the

churches of St. Paul and St. Peter at Rome as their “martyries,” as

Eusebius[330] also calls the church which Constantine built on Golgotha

the “martyry” of our Saviour. By the age of Chrysostom the festivals

of martyrs and saints had grown so numerous that frequently more than

one occurred in the same week.[331] Good Friday and Ascension Day, and

the Sunday after Whitsun Day (not observed as Trinity Sunday till much

later), were especially dedicated to the commemoration of saints.[332]

The congregation kept a vigil the night before, or very early before

dawn on the Saints’ day itself. The vigil consisted of psalms, hymns,

and prayers, and was followed early in the day by a full service, when,

in addition to the ordinary lessons of the day, the acts or passions

of the saint or martyr were read. St. Augustine permitted his people

to sit during the reading of them because they were often of great

length. Pope Gelasius forbade them to be read because they were so

seldom authentic.[333] The martyries were generally outside the city

walls, not always built over the grave of the saint, but close to it;

in which case the congregation assembled at the grave first, and walked

in procession from it to the church, singing hymns as they went. There

can be no doubt that Chrysostom believed in the intercessory power of

departed saints, and encouraged the invocation of their intercession.

They were nearer to the Divine ear, and by virtue of their glorious

deaths had justly obtained more confidence in making their requests to

God than had the inhabitants of earth. He implores Christians not to

resort for medical assistance to Jews, who were the enemies of Christ,

but to seek aid from His friends the saints and martyrs, who had much

confidence in addressing God.[334] At the close of his homily on the

festival of two soldiers who had been beheaded by Julian for obstinate

adherence to Christianity, he says: “Let us constantly visit them,

touch their shrine, and with faith embrace their reliques, that we may

derive some blessing therefrom; for like soldiers who converse freely

with their sovereign when they display their wounds, so these, bearing

their heads in their hands, are easily able to effect what they desire

at the court of the King of Heaven.”[335] So, again, in the homily on

Bernice and Prosdoke: “Let us fall down before their reliques ... let

us embrace their shrines: not only on their festival, but at other

times, let us resort to them and invoke them to become our protectors;

for they can use much boldness of speech when dead, more, indeed, than

when they were alive, for now they bear in their bodies the marks of

Jesus Christ ... let us therefore procure for ourselves, through them,

favour from God.”[336] Thus the saint is to be appealed to as a kind

of friend at court, who will present petitions, and use his influence

to obtain a favourable answer from the Monarch; but the further step

of invoking saints as the _direct_ dispensers of spiritual and other

benefits had not yet been taken. The feeling of the Church of Smyrna

towards their beloved martyr and bishop Polycarp, as expressed in

A.D. 160 to the Church of Philomelium, still represented the general

state of feeling in the Church.[337] The Jews and other malignants had

suggested, when the remains of Polycarp had been earnestly asked for,

that the Christians intended to worship him; and “this they said, being

ignorant that we should never be able to desert Christ, or worship any

other Being. For Him, being the Son of God, we adore, but the martyrs,

as the disciples and imitators of the Lord, we love with a deserved

affection; desiring to become partners and fellow-disciples with them.”

The language of St. Augustine and St. Chrysostom thoroughly corresponds

to that in the passage just cited. “Our religion,” says Augustine,

“consists not in the worship of dead men; because if they lived piously

they are not considered likely to desire that kind of honour; but would

wish Him to be worshipped by us through whose illumination they rejoice

to have us partners with them in their merit. They are therefore to be

honoured for the sake of imitation, not to be worshipped as a religious

act.”[338] And in another place: “Christian people celebrate the

memory of martyrs with religious solemnity, to stimulate imitation, to

become partners in their merits, and to be assisted by their prayers;

but in doing this we never offer sacrifice to a martyr, but only to

Him who is the God of martyrs.”[339] A multitude of passages might be

cited from Chrysostom’s homilies on Saints’ Festivals, in which he

passionately exhorts to the imitation and emulation of their noble

lives and glorious deaths, and dwells on the great advantages to the

Church arising from these solemn commemorations. The very memory of

the martyrs wrought upon the minds of men in confirming them against

the assaults of wicked spirits, and delivering them from impure and

unseemly thoughts; ... the death of the martyrs was the exhortation

of the faithful, the confidence of Churches, the confirmation of

Christianity, ... the reproach of devils, the condemnation of Satan,

a consolation in affliction, a motive to patience, encouragement to

fortitude, the root, fountain, mother of all which is good.[340]

But if no inculcations to direct worship of saints are to be found in

Chrysostom, it is evident that no small virtue was ascribed by popular

faith (and, in his opinion, justly) to their remains.[341] Miracles

of healing were wrought, or supposed to be wrought, at their tombs;

demons were expelled by the application of their ashes to the persons

possessed. It is obvious that, where such a belief has taken possession

of the popular mind, prayer will very soon be addressed to the saint

for the direct bestowal of those advantages which are supposed to be

derivable from his reliques. Pilgrimages were fashionable in all parts

of Christendom. Prefects and generals, when they visited Rome, hastened

to pay their devotion at the tombs of the tentmaker and fisherman;

journeys were made into Arabia to visit the supposed site of Job’s

dunghill.[342]

Two different causes seem to have led on the mind of the Church to an

increasing veneration of martyrs. First, the Church owed to them a real

debt; the heroic steadfastness of their deaths contributed much to

promote and establish Christianity. Chrysostom observes how the sight

of the aged Ignatius going to die at Rome for his faith—going not only

with calmness, but even with alacrity—mightily confirmed the souls of

the disciples in the several cities through which he passed.[343] “As

irrigation made gardens fruitful, so the blood of martyrs gave drink

to the Churches.”[344] Honour, affection, veneration, easily pass into

actual adoration.

Secondly, there is a natural desire to bridge over the chasm which

divides the human nature from the Divine, and earth from heaven, by

enlisting the agency of some intermediate being. In its earliest

conflicts with heresy, theology was chiefly engaged in zealously

defending the pure divinity of Christ—his co-equal, co-eternal

power and majesty with the Father. The more He was withdrawn into a

less accessible region of exalted deity, the more this need of the

half-deified human interpositor was felt, and worked itself out at last

into a distinct article of faith.

Some of those abuses of saints’ days, which we are apt to associate

more especially with medieval times, were far from uncommon in the days

of Chrysostom. The day which had begun in fasting, and was preceded

by a vigil, too often terminated in a very carnal kind of revelry.

“Ye have turned night into day by your holy vigils: do not turn day

into night by drunkenness, surfeiting, and lascivious songs; let not

any one see you misbehaving in an inn on your return home.”[345] A

custom prevailed of holding a “love-feast,” at or near the tomb of

the saint, which was furnished by the oblations of the wealthier

devotees. Chrysostom on one occasion urges his congregation to attend

such a sacred banquet when they dispersed after service, instead of

hurrying off to the diabolical entertainments at Daphne. The sight

of the martyrs, standing as it were near their table, would prevent

their pleasure from running to excess.[346] But there is abundant

evidence in other contemporary writers that these meetings too often

did degenerate into scenes of mere conviviality and intemperance.

St. Augustine speaks of those who “made themselves drunk at the

commemoration of martyrs.”[347] St. Ambrose prohibited all such feasts

in the churches of Milan; and St. Augustine cited his example to obtain

a similar prohibition from Aurelius, the Primate of Carthage.[348]

St. Basil reprobates a growing custom of trading near the martyries

on festival days, under pretence of making a better provision for the

feasts, to which we may fairly, perhaps, attribute the universal

custom in Christendom of holding fairs on saints’ days.[349] As they

were in medieval times, so in Roman Catholic countries at the present

day, the booths of the fair are in close contiguity with the walls of

the church, and they who attend mass in the morning, as well as those

who do not attend it at all, may disgrace themselves by drunkenness

and all kinds of folly in the evening. Such abuses are an inevitable

consequence of keeping up the observance of days after the real

enthusiasm for the person or cause which they commemorate has begun to

grow, or has altogether grown, cold. Little may ever have been really

known about the saint whose memory is celebrated, and that little

ceases to speak with any meaning to the minds of later generations.

The service, which was once a living reality, becomes a cold and empty

form, or the place of religious enthusiasm is supplied by some form of

sensual excitement. Crowds of peasants will not fail to be attracted to

a church which blazes with thousands of candles arranged in fantastic

patterns, and which rings with noisy sensational music: they probably

place a superstitious faith in the tutelary power of their patron: but

how different is all this from the hearty, genuine, reasonable devotion

of more enlightened worshippers to the Lord Himself, and the less

strong but more real respect and honour paid by such to His day! It is

surely one among many proofs of the deep and lasting hold of Christ’s

character upon the mind of men, of the applicability of its influence

to all times and places, and of its Divine superiority to that of all

His followers, however exalted, that abuses which have accompanied the

commemorations of saints have never extended in the same degree to His

day.[350]

As already remarked, Chrysostom was prevented this year by illness

from attending the festivals of saints and martyrs, which fell very

thickly between Easter and Whitsun Day. He commences his homily

preached on the Sunday before Ascension Day with an allusion to his

recent sickness, and tells his congregation that, though absent in body

from their sacred festivities, he had been present and rejoiced with

them in spirit; and now, though he had not fully recovered his health,

he could not refrain from meeting his beloved and much-longed-for

flock again. He was the more anxious also to occupy his accustomed

place on that day, because large numbers of the rustic population

from the neighbouring country had flocked into the city and attended

the services of the church. They spoke a different dialect, but they

were one with the Christian inhabitants of the town in the soundness

of their faith; and their habits of simple piety, pure morality, and

honourable industry, put to shame the dissolute manners and indolence

which prevailed in the city. Their peasant clergy were a noble race of

men; they might be seen, one while yoking their oxen to the plough,

and marking out furrows in the soil, another while mounting the pulpit

and ploughing the hearts of their flock; now cutting away thorns from

the ground with a sickle, now cleansing men’s minds from sin by their

discourse: for they were not ashamed of hard work, like the people of

the city, but of idleness, knowing that it was idleness which taught

men vice, and had been from the beginning to those who loved it the

schoolmaster of all iniquity. Though little skilled, by training,

in reasoning or rhetoric, they proved more than a match for those

counterfeit philosophers who paraded themselves about the streets with

their professional cloak, staff, and beard, but who could not give

any satisfactory information on the subjects upon which they expended

such a heap of words,—as the immortality of the soul, the creation of

the world, Divine Providence, a future world and judgment. The rustic

pastor, being simply and firmly persuaded of the truth of these things,

could instruct men with clearness and decision about them; he could

give solid matter, the others only polished language, like a man who

should have a sword with a silver ornamented hilt, but a weak blade.

Their wives were not luxurious creatures, covering themselves with

unguents, paints, and dyes, but simple, sober, quiet matrons; which

increased the influence of the pastor over the people committed to his

charge, and caused the precept of St. Paul, “having food and raiment,

let us be therewith content,” to be strictly observed[351] among them.

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