THEOPHILUS ARRIVES IN CONSTANTINOPLE—ORGANISES A CABAL
AGAINST CHRYSOSTOM—THE SYNOD OF THE OAK—CHRYSOSTOM
PRONOUNCED CONTUMACIOUS FOR NON-APPEARANCE AND EXPELLED
FROM THE CITY—EARTHQUAKE—RECALL OF CHRYSOSTOM—OVATIONS ON
HIS RETURN—FLIGHT OF THEOPHILUS. A.D. 403.
Regardless of the forces which had been set in motion against him,
Chrysostom pursued his usual course of work without any variation. The
reins of discipline were held tightly as ever; the Word was preached,
in season and out of season, with unabated diligence; the people were
exhorted, admonished, rebuked with the same irrepressible earnestness.
His enemies took advantage of a sermon, specially directed against
the follies and vices of fashionable ladies, to represent it as an
attack upon the Empress herself.[563] Eudoxia, credulous and impulsive
by nature, and probably irritated because the Archbishop did not pay
her servile homage, complained to the Emperor of the insult which had
been cast upon her, and was induced by the hostile party to expect the
arrival of Theophilus as an opportunity for redressing her wrongs. That
prelate was now rapidly approaching, with a large number of bishops
collected from Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor. Twenty-eight, on whose
partisanship he could reckon, travelled by sea to Chalcedon. Many
bishops had become disaffected to Chrysostom in Asia Minor, owing to
the rigorous investigation recently made by him into the state of the
Church in that region, and they readily joined the camp of Theophilus.
Prominent among them was Gerontius of Nicomedia, whom, as will be
remembered, he had deposed. The whole force was at length (June 403)
assembled at Chalcedon, and a council of war was held, to determine
the plan of operations. None was more virulent in his denunciation of
Chrysostom, as tyrannical, proud, and heretical, than Cyrinus, bishop
of Chalcedon. He was an Egyptian by birth, and Theophilus reckoned on
him as a valuable ally, but was deprived of his services by a curious
incident. Maruthas, bishop of Mesopotamia, accidentally trod on the
foot of Cyrinus: a wound ensued, the wound gangrened, the foot had to
be amputated, but the mortification spread, and, after two years of
lingering pain, put an end to his life.[564]
Theophilus made his entrance into Constantinople about the middle of
June. He had been summoned as a defendant, but, according to his design
already indicated, he appeared surrounded by all the pomp and dignity
of a judge. None of the bishops, indeed, or clergy of Constantinople
came to greet him on landing, but the crews of the Alexandrian
corn-fleet gave him a hearty welcome, and he was accompanied by a large
retinue, not only of bishops and clergy, but of Alexandrian sailors,
laden with some of the costliest produce of Egypt and the East, a
very potent auxiliary in obtaining partisans. As on the arrival of
Epiphanius, so now, Chrysostom did not fail to offer the customary
hospitality due to a brother bishop; but Theophilus disdainfully
declined it, passed by the palace and the metropolitan church, which
episcopal visitors usually entered on their arrival, and proceeded to
the suburb of Pera, where a lodging had been prepared for him in a
house of the Emperor’s, called the Palace of Placidia.
During the three weeks that he resided here, he refused to hold any
communication with Chrysostom, or to enter his church; nor did he
vouchsafe any reply to the frequent entreaties of the Archbishop that
he would state his reasons for such conduct. His house became the
resort of all the disaffected clergy or affronted ladies and gentlemen
in the city, who were drawn thither, not only by a common hatred to
Chrysostom, but also by the handsome gifts, the elegant and dainty
repasts, and the winning flattery with which they were treated by
Theophilus.[565] These arts were the more necessary because Theophilus
had a double part to play: to arrest the course of the accusation
instituted against himself, as well as to organise a powerful cabal
against Chrysostom. In the former he was helped by the scruples or
peacefulness of Chrysostom himself. The Archbishop was directed by the
Court to repair to Pera, and preside over an inquiry into the crimes
of which Theophilus was accused. But he declined, on the plea that the
ecclesiastical affairs of one province could not, according to the
Canons of Nice, be judged in another; partly also, as he affirmed, out
of respect for his brother Patriarch. The truth probably was, that he
foresaw the vindictive and turbulent spirit of Theophilus would never
submit to the decisions of a council under the presidency of his rival
in that see of which Alexandria was especially jealous. Otherwise there
is no doubt that a General Council at Constantinople would have been
competent to judge the Patriarch of Alexandria; whereas a Provincial
Council in Egypt could not have judged him, he being supreme there by
virtue of his position as Patriarch.[566] Chrysostom himself also might
legally have been arraigned before a General Council; but, as will be
seen, the synod composed by Theophilus was far from being entitled to
that appellation.
The obstacle of his own trial being thus disposed of, it only remained
for Theophilus to prosecute his design against his rival with mingled
subtlety and boldness. The first step was to secure a sufficient number
of witnesses, and a list of accusations, which, being presented to the
Emperor, would furnish a plausible reason for summoning a council.
The next step would be to pack that council with bishops hostile to
Chrysostom. Two despicable deacons, who had been expelled from their
office by the Archbishop for homicide and adultery, were well content
to draw up a list of charges on a promise from Theophilus that they
should be restored to their former position. The accusations seem to
have been of a puerile character; and if the source of them was known,
it would seem inconceivable that the Court should have entertained
them, did we not remember that the influence of the Empress, as well
as of many of the most powerful courtiers, was now turned or rapidly
turning against the Archbishop, and that the bribes of Theophilus were
permeating the whole city.
The attachment of the people, however, to Chrysostom was known to be
so strong, that it was deemed prudent by the enemy to hold the synod
at a safe distance from the city. A suburb of Chalcedon, called “The
Oak,” where Rufinus, the late prefect, had built a palace, church, and
monastery, was selected as a convenient place for the assembly.[567]
The bishops, after all the exertions of Theophilus, did not amount to
more than thirty-six, of whom twenty-nine were Egyptians.[568] Among
the latter was Cyril, the successor of Theophilus. Chrysostom was
summoned to appear before the synod. The scene in the archiepiscopal
palace immediately preceding the summons has been described by
Palladius, with the vivid and minute exactness of an eye-witness.
“We were sitting, to the number of forty bishops, in the dining-hall
of the palace, marvelling at the audacity with which one, who had
been commanded to appear as a culprit at Constantinople, had arrived
with a train of bishops, had altered the sentiments of nobles and
magistrates, and perverted the majority even of the clergy. Whilst we
were wondering, John, inspired by the Spirit of God, addressed to us
all the following words: ‘Pray for me, my brethren, and, if ye love
Christ, let no one for my sake desert his see, for I am now ready to be
offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. Like him who spoke
these words, I perceive that I am about to relinquish life, for I know
the intrigues of Satan, that he will not endure any longer the burden
of my words which are delivered against him. May ye obtain mercy, and
in your prayers remember me.’ Seized with inexpressible sorrow, some of
us began to weep, and others to leave the assembly, after kissing, amid
tears and sobs, the sacred head and eyes, and eloquent mouth, of the
Archbishop. He, however, exhorted them to return, and, as they hovered
near, like bees humming round their hive, ‘Sit down, my brethren,’ he
said, ‘and do not weep, unnerving me by your tears, for to me to live
is Christ, to die is gain. Recall the words which I have so frequently
spoken to you. Present life is a journey; both its good and painful
things pass away. Present time is like a fair: we buy, we sell, and the
assembly is dissolved. Are we better than the Patriarchs, the Prophets,
the Apostles, that this life should remain to us for ever?’ Here one
of the company uttering a cry exclaimed: ‘Nay, but what we lament is
our own bereavement and the widowhood of the Church, the derangement
of sacred laws, the ambition of those who fear not the Lord, and
violently seize the highest positions; the destitution of the poor, and
the loss of sound teaching.’ But John replied, striking, as was his
custom when cogitating, the palm of his left hand with the forefinger
of his right: ‘Enough, my brother—no more; only, as I was saying, do
not abandon your churches, for neither did the office of teaching begin
with me, nor in me has it ended. Did not Moses die, and was not Joshua
found to succeed him? Did not Samuel die, but was not David anointed?
Jeremy departed this life, but Baruch was left; Elijah was taken up,
but Elisha prophesied in his place; Paul was beheaded, but did he not
leave Timothy, Titus, Apollos, and a host of others to work after him?’
To these words Eulysius, bishop of Apamea, in Bithynia, observed:
‘If we retain our sees, it will become necessary for us to hold
communion with the authors of your deposition, and to subscribe to your
condemnation.’[569] To which the holy John replied: ‘Communicate by all
means, so as to avoid rending the unity of the Church; but abstain from
subscribing, for I am not conscious of having done anything to deserve
deposition.’”
At this point in the conference it was announced that certain
emissaries from the “Synod of the Oak” had arrived. Chrysostom gave
orders that they should be admitted, inquired, when they entered, to
what rank in the hierarchy they belonged, and, on being informed that
they were bishops, requested them to be seated, and to declare the
purpose of their coming. The two bishops, young men recently raised
to the episcopate in Libya, replied, “We are merely the bearers of a
document which we request that you will command to be read.” Chrysostom
gave the order, and a servant of Theophilus read the missive. “The holy
Synod assembled at the Oak to John” (thus did his enemies deprive him
of all his titles). “We have received a list containing an infinite
number of charges against you. Present yourself, therefore, before us,
bringing with you the priests Serapion and Tigrius, for their presence
is necessary.” The bishops who were with Chrysostom were very indignant
at the insolent tenor of the message. A reply to the following effect
was drawn up, addressed to Theophilus, and despatched by the hand of
three bishops and two priests: “Subvert not nor rend the Church for
which God became incarnate; but if, in contempt of the canons framed by
318 bishops at Nice, you choose to judge a cause beyond the boundaries
of your jurisdiction, cross the straits into our city, which is at
least strictly governed by law, and do not, after the example of Cain,
call Abel out into the open field. For we have charges of palpable
crimes against you, drawn up under more than sixty heads; our synod,
also, is more numerous than yours, and is assembled, by the grace of
God, after a peaceful manner, not for the disruption of the Church.
For you are but thirty-six in number, collected out of a single
province;[570] but we are forty, from several provinces, and seven are
metropolitans. It is only reasonable that the less should be judged,
according to the canons, by the greater.”
Chrysostom approved of this answer of the bishops, but sent a separate
letter on his own behalf: “Hitherto I am wholly ignorant whether any
one has anything to say against me; but if any one has assailed me, and
you wish me to appear before you, eject from your assembly my declared
enemies. I raise no question respecting the place where I ought to be
tried, although the most proper place is the city.” He proceeds to say
that he objected to his declared and implacable enemies, Theophilus,
Acacius, Severian, and Antiochus, being allowed to sit on the council
at all. “He could convict Theophilus of having said in Alexandria
and Lycia, ‘I am setting out for the capital to depose John;’ which,
indeed, is true, for, since he set foot in Constantinople, he has
refused to meet or communicate with me. What, then, will one do, after
the trial, who has acted as my enemy before it?” When these men should
have been eliminated from the synod, or legally constituted as his
accusers, he would appear before a council, even if composed of members
from all Christendom; but till this condition was complied with, he
would refuse to present himself though summoned ten thousand times
over.[571]
He demanded, in short, to be tried by an œcumenical synod, as the only
tribunal which could legally exact obedience from him. The Synod of the
Oak, composed as it was mainly of Egyptians and of declared enemies,
could not possibly pretend to that character. If the Imperial Court had
been upright and courageous, not susceptible of flattery and bribes,
not induced by personal animosity against the Archbishop to favour or
connive at the proceedings of his enemies, such a synod could not have
been held. That it was held, and succeeded in the purpose for which it
met, will ever be a stain upon the Church and the Empire of the East.
But although viciously constituted and, indeed, all the more on that
very account, the synod made much display of complying in formalities
with the established order of an ecclesiastical court of judicature.
The prosecution was to be carried on in the name of a plaintiff who was
to be present, and to submit his charge in writing. The defendant was
to be cited to appear and defend himself; and if he failed to appear
after three or four citations, he would be pronounced contumacious, and
as such be punishable by the synod with excommunication and deposition.
The further penalties of imprisonment, exile, or death could not be
inflicted by any but the secular power.
Theophilus was president of the synod, and the prosecution was
conducted in the name of John, Archdeacon of Constantinople, who
cherished malice against Chrysostom because he had once been suspended
by him for ill-treating a slave, though afterwards restored. The
charges were drawn up under twenty-nine heads. The evidence of most
worthless witnesses was accepted, or, more properly speaking, invited.
A strange medley of monstrous and incredible offences was included in
the list of charges prepared by the Archdeacon John—acts of personal
violence, as well as violations of ecclesiastical discipline. “He had
struck people on the face, had calumniated many of his clergy, had
called one Epiphanius fool and demoniac, had imprisoned others, had
accused his archdeacons of robbing his pallium for an unlawful purpose;
he had despotically and illegally deposed bishops in Asia, and had
ordained others without sufficient inquiry into their qualifications,
mental or moral; he had alienated the property and sold the ornaments
of the Church; he held private interviews with women, he dined on
Cyclopian fare, he ate a small cake after holy communion, he had
administered both sacraments, after he himself or the recipients had
eaten.”[572] The crowning charge was that of treasonable language
against the Empress—“he had called her Jezebel.” This was the trump
card of the cabal. If the Emperor’s Court could be persuaded to believe
him guilty on this point, exile at least, and probably death, would be
the inevitable consequence.
Such were the principal charges in the list presented by the Archdeacon
John. A second list, presented by Isaac the monk, accused him of
extending sympathy and hospitality to Origenists, of instigating the
people to sedition, of using unseemly expressions in his sermons, such
as “I exult, I am beside myself with joy,” or language which gave a
dangerous encouragement to sinners; for example, “as often as you sin
come to me and I will heal you.”
By artfully making slight alterations in expressions actually used,
and tearing them from their context, it was easy to represent them as
mischievous or blasphemous. It is not surprising then that Chrysostom
steadfastly refused to answer in person such a list of partly
monstrous, partly puerile, accusations before such a synod. He pursued
the only dignified course possible under the circumstances. When a
notary from the Emperor came to him with a rescript, and showed him
the petition inserted in it from the synod, that the Emperor would
compel the attendance of the Archbishop; and when, presently, a second
deputation from the synod, consisting of a renegade priest of his own
clergy, and Isaac the monk, brought a peremptory summons from the
synod, he inflexibly maintained the same attitude. “I will not attend
a synod which is composed of my enemies, and to which I am summoned by
my own clergy. I appeal to a lawfully constituted General Council.” The
citations were rapidly repeated three or four times, and always met
by the same response. The cabal expended their fury on the messengers
of the Archbishop; they beat one bishop, tore the clothes of another,
and placed on the neck of a third the chains which they had designed
for the person of Chrysostom himself, their intention having been to
put him secretly on board ship, and send him off to some remote part
of the Empire. Some of the clergy were so much intimidated by these
violent proceedings that they dared not return to Constantinople.
Demetrius, however, Bishop of Pessina, denounced the conduct of the
synod, quitted it, and returned to the Archbishop. After several more
ineffectual citations, the synod, at its twelfth session, declared
that it would proceed to judgment against Chrysostom as contumacious.
Either by a happy coincidence, or by the contrivance of Theophilus,
a message arrived from the Court on the same day, urging the bishops
to decide the cause as speedily as possible. With much alacrity the
request was obeyed. They drew up a despatch to the Emperor—a formal
statement: “Whereas John, being accused of crimes, has declined to
appear before us, and that in such cases ecclesiastical law pronounces
deposition, we have hereby deposed him; but as the indictment against
him contains charges of treason as well as ecclesiastical offences, we
leave these to be dealt with by you, since it belongs not to us to take
cognisance of them.” The synod waited for the Imperial ratification
of their verdict, and meanwhile issued a circular to the clergy of
Constantinople, informing them of the deposition of their spiritual
father.[573]
Having attained, as he believed, the object of his intrigue, Theophilus
went through the form of reconciliation with the “tall brethren” in
the presence of the synod. The facility with which they were restored
to favour on a simple request for pardon is in strange contrast to the
relentless animosity with which they had been hitherto pursued, and
indicates that their persecution had been maintained simply as the
means to securing a more important victim.
Both Dioscorus and Ammon had recently died, the latter predicting
with his dying lips that the Church was about to be distressed by a
furious persecution, and torn by a deplorable schism. He was buried
in that church of the Apostles, in the suburb of The Oak, where, nine
years before, he had baptized the founder, the Prefect Rufinus. The
monks of the foundation celebrated his obsequies with great pomp; and
Theophilus, his bitter persecutor, condescended to weep over his death,
and publicly declare that he had never known a monk of more exalted
saintliness.[574]
The triumph of the synod seemed to be completed by the receipt of
an Imperial rescript, ratifying the sentence of deposition, and
announcing that the Archbishop would be banished. Many members of the
synod were probably disappointed at the mildness of the penalty; but
the people of Constantinople were enraged, and impeded the execution
of the sentence. It was evening when the impending degradation of
their Archbishop became known. During the whole of the night, crowds
of people watched outside the Archbishop’s palace and the cathedral
to guard against his forcible abduction. Early in the morning they
thronged the church, loudly protested against the injustice of the
sentence, and demanded with shouts the submission of his cause to
a General Council. For three days and nights the flock incessantly
guarded their beloved pastor. Under their protection he passed to
and from the palace and the church. On the second day he delivered a
discourse to them in the cathedral. The first portion of it is in all
respects worthy of Chrysostom; the conclusion, involved and rugged,
seems to have been added by another hand, and extracts will not be made
from it here.[575]
“Many are the billows, and terrible the storms, which threaten us;
but we fear not to be overwhelmed, for we stand upon the rock. Let
the sea rage, it cannot dissolve the rock; let the billows rise, they
cannot sink the vessel of Jesus Christ. Tell me, what is it we fear?
death?—‘To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.’ Or exile?—‘The
earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.’ Or confiscation of
goods?—‘We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can
carry nothing out.’”... “I fear not poverty, I desire not wealth; I
dread not death, I do not pray for life, save for the sake of your
advancement. I beseech you be of good courage; no man will be able to
separate us, for ‘that which God hath joined together no man can put
asunder.’ If man cannot dissolve marriage, how much less the Church of
God! Thou, oh my enemy! only renderest me more illustrious, and wastest
thine own strength, ‘for it is hard to kick against the pricks.’ Waves
do not break the rock, but are themselves dispersed into foam against
it. Nothing, oh man! is stronger than the Church, ... it is stronger
even than Heaven, ‘for Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words
shall not pass away.’ What words? ‘Thou art Peter, and on this rock I
will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against
it.’ If thou disbelievest the words, yet believe the facts. How many
tyrants have attempted to overcome the Church; how often have wild
beasts, and the sword, and the furnace, and the boiling caldron, been
employed against it, yet have they not prevailed. Where are those who
made war upon it? They have been silenced and consigned to oblivion.
Where is the Church? It shines above the brightness of the sun. Let
none of the things that have been done disturb you. Grant me one favour
only,—unwavering faith. Was not St. Peter on the point of sinking, not
because of the uncontrollable onset of the waves, but because of the
weakness of his faith? Did man’s votes bring me here, that man should
put me down? I say not this in a spirit of boastfulness—God forbid—but
in the desire to settle your agitated minds.”... “Let no one trouble
you; give heed to your prayers. This disturbance is the devil’s work,
that he might destroy your zeal in the sacred Litanies; but he does not
succeed. We find you even more earnest than before. To-morrow I shall
go out with you in the Litany, for where you are, there I am. Though
locally separated, we are in spirit united; we are one body, the body
is not separated from its head; even death cannot separate us.”... “For
your sakes I am ready to be slaughtered ten thousand times over, since
death is to me the warrant of immortality. These intrigues are to me
but the occasion of security. I say these things to listening ears;
so many days have you watched, and nothing has moved you from your
purpose. Neither length of time nor threats have enervated you; you
have done what I have always been desiring, despised the things of this
world, bidden farewell to earth, released yourselves from the fetters
of the body: this is my crown, my consolation, my anointing; this the
suggestion to me of immortality.”
Another discourse[576] contains much to the same effect, and a
declaration of his belief that the real cause of his deposition was his
sturdy opposition to the corrupt manners and morals of the age. “You
know,” he says, “why they are going to depose me—because I spread no
fine carpets, and wear no silken robes; because I have not pampered
their gluttony, or made presents in gold and silver.” He would comfort
and encourage himself with the prospect of being reckoned among those
who had suffered for righteousness’ sake. The cruel and capricious
woman, who one day called him “a thirteenth apostle,” and the next “a
Judas,” would receive a just retribution for her conduct.
The attachment of the people to the Archbishop, and their sense of
the injustice with which he was treated, were so strong that, with
his powers of swaying their feelings, he might easily have raised a
formidable sedition, and defied, for an indefinite time, the sentence
of the synod and the edict of the Emperor. But his sentiments were
too loyal, too Christian, too peaceful, for any such desperate and
violent measures. He might have continued to demand the reference of
his cause to a General Council; but, had this been granted, there was
the extreme probability that his enemies would refuse, and persuade
many more to refuse, a recognition of its decision. Then would follow
one of those melancholy schisms, of which the Church already knew too
well the misery. He determined to bow to the storm. On the third day
after his deposition by the council, and about noon, when the people
were not guarding the approaches to the church quite so vigilantly, he
passed out, unperceived, by one of the side entrances, and surrendered
himself to some of the Court officials, who conducted him at nightfall
to the harbour. In spite of the darkness, he was recognised by some of
the people, who followed him with loud cries of distress. He besought
them to abstain from the commission of violence, commended them to the
care of Jesus Christ, cited the example of Job blessing and thanking
God in the midst of trouble, and declared that he patiently waited for
the decision of an Œcumenical Council. The vessel in which he embarked
conveyed him the same night to Hieron,[577] on the Bithynian coast, at
the mouth of the Euxine. Perhaps owing to the dangerous proximity of
this place to Chalcedon, the headquarters of his enemies, he removed
(being apparently uncontrolled in his movements) to a country-house
belonging to a friend, near Prænetum, on the Astacene gulf opposite
Nicomedia.
When the departure of the Archbishop became generally known on the
succeeding day, the indignation of the people burst into a blaze. The
places of public resort were thronged with clamorous crowds denouncing
the synod and demanding a General Council. They flocked into the
churches to pour forth their lamentations, and to invoke the Divine
intervention on behalf of their injured Patriarch. A revulsion of
feeling in his favour took place among many of the clergy who had
hitherto been opposed to him. The arrival of Theophilus with a large
retinue was not calculated to allay the agitation. Force was employed
to dislodge the people from the churches; the struggle occasioned
bloodshed, and even some loss of life, chiefly among monks. The
worthless clergy who had been deposed by Chrysostom, some of them
for flagrant crimes, were restored by Theophilus. Severian of Gabala
mounted a pulpit in one of the churches, and extolled the act of
deposition. “Even were the Patriarch,” he said, “guiltless of other
offences, the penalty was due to his arrogance, for ‘God resisteth the
proud,’ even if He forgave other sins.” The people were furious at this
barefaced attempt to justify injustice. They thronged the approaches
to the Imperial palace itself, and with loud shouts demanded the
restoration of the Patriarch.[578]
A natural phenomenon, not rare in Constantinople, but regarded under
the circumstances as a Divine visitation, opportunely concurred with
this demand. The city, the palace, but more especially the bedchamber
of the Empress, were agitated by a severe shock of earthquake. The
friends of Chrysostom rejoiced at this manifestation of the wrath
of Heaven; his enemies were alarmed. The terrified Empress eagerly
promoted the demand of the people for the restoration of the exile.
Messengers were sent across the Bosporus to seek him, for the exact
place of his retreat appears to have been unknown. Briso, the Empress’s
chamberlain, a man of Christian piety and a personal friend of
Chrysostom, discovered him at Prænetum. He was the bearer of a humble,
we might say abject, letter of self-exculpation from the Empress. “Let
not your holiness (ἡ ἁγιωσύνη) imagine that I was cognisant of what
has been done. I am guiltless of thy blood. Wicked and corrupt men
have contrived this plot. I remember the baptism of my children by thy
hands. God whom I serve is witness of my tears.” She informs him how
she had fallen at the feet of the Emperor, and had represented to him
that there was no hope for the Empire except through the restoration
of the Archbishop.[579]
Chrysostom yielded to the solicitation so far as to embark and cross
the Bosporus, but he declined at first to advance nearer Constantinople
than the suburb of Mariamna, two leagues from the capital by sea. He
declared that he would not enter the city until he had been acquitted
by a General Council. But the impetuosity of the people would brook
no delay. Tidings of his approach had preceded him. The Bosporus was
studded with boats crowded with his friends, bearing torches and
chanting psalms of welcome. The halt at Mariamna was suspected to
be a contrivance of the enemy, who wished to deprive the Patriarch
of the honours awaiting him. Their denunciations of the Emperor and
Empress grew loud and menacing. An Imperial secretary arrived at
Mariamna, urging Chrysostom to enter the city without loss of time.
The Archbishop consented, and, attended by about thirty bishops,
amidst the acclamations of the populace, was conducted to the Church
of the Apostles. Again he remonstrated, and expressed scruples at
entering till the sentence of deposition should have been revoked by a
legitimate council. But the eagerness of the people was irrepressible.
He was borne into the church, and compelled to take his seat on the
episcopal throne and pronounce a benediction upon the assembly. When
he had complied with their request, they would not be satisfied till
he had addressed them in an extempore discourse. The address exists
only in a Latin translation. Its brevity, and the abrupt style of the
opening sentences, indicate the extemporaneous character of it.[580]
“What shall I say, or how shall I speak? ‘Blessed be God.’ So spoke
I when I departed, and I utter the same again: yea, even in my exile
I did not cease to say these words. Ye remember how I quoted Job,
and said, ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord for ever.’ Such was the
pledge I left with you when I set forth; such is the thanksgiving I
repeat on my return. ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord for ever.’ Our
lot varies, but our manner of giving glory is one. I gave thanks when
I was expelled, I give thanks when I return. The conditions of summer
and winter are different, but the end is one—the prosperity of the
field. Blessed be God who permitted the storm, blessed be God who has
dispersed it and wrought a calm. These things I say, that I may prepare
you to bless God at all times. Have good things happened to you? Bless
God, and the good remains; have evil things occurred? bless God still,
and the evil is removed.”... “Behold what great results have been
wrought by the stratagems of my enemies. They have augmented your zeal,
inflamed your affectionate longing for me, and procured me lovers in
hundreds. Formerly I was beloved by my own people only; now even the
Jews pay me respect. My enemies hoped to sever me from my own friends;
and, instead, they have brought even aliens into our ranks.”... “To-day
the Circensian games take place, but no one is present there; all
have poured like a torrent into the church, and your voices are as
streams which flow to Heaven and declare your affection towards your
father.” He congratulates them on putting the enemy to flight. “Many
are the sheep, yet nowhere is the wolf seen; the devouring beasts
are overwhelmed, the wolves have fled. Who has pursued them? Not I
the shepherd, but ye the sheep. O noble flock! in the absence of the
shepherd ye have routed the wolves. O beauty and chastity of the
wife! how hast thou repulsed the adulterer, because thou lovedst thy
husband!”... “Where are our enemies? in ignominy;—where are we? in
triumph.”[581]
On the following day the Archbishop delivered another address, pitched
in the same strain, but amplified and more ornate. It opens with a
singular comparison between the meditated seduction of Abraham’s
wife by Pharaoh, and the plot of Theophilus to corrupt the chastity
of the Church of Constantinople. The courage and faith of the flock
in resisting the wolf during the absence of their shepherd, their
enthusiastic welcome of his return, when the sea, as he expresses it,
became a city (alluding to the crowds who had gone out to meet him
on the Bosporus), and the market-place was converted into one vast
church—these are again the topics on which he dilates with thankful
joy. He applies to himself the verse: “They that sow in tears shall
reap in joy; he that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth
good seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves
with him.” The Empress is extolled in language which to any but
oriental ears must sound painfully fulsome and adulatory. She had
sent a message to him on the previous evening, saying, “My prayer is
fulfilled, my object accomplished. I have obtained a crown better than
the diadem itself. I have received back the priest, I have restored the
head to the body, the pilot to the ship, the shepherd to the flock,
the husband to the home.” In return for this complimentary greeting
(complimentary, it must be confessed, to herself as much as to the
Archbishop) she is styled by him “most devout Queen, mother of the
churches, nurse of monks, protectress of saints, staff of the poor.”
The people were so much delighted with these laudations of the Empress,
that the address was constantly interrupted by their acclamations.[582]
When the object of the Synod at the Oak had eventually failed through
the recall of Chrysostom, many of the members lost no time in returning
to their several sees. Theophilus and a few of his most resolute
partisans appear to have lurked in the city, waiting a possible
opportunity for resuming their intrigues. This they attempted,
according to two historians,[583] by instigating accusations against
Heracleides, who had been consecrated Bishop of Ephesus by Chrysostom.
The friends of Heracleides and of the Archbishop protested against the
illegality of such proceedings in the absence of the defendant. The
question was taken up by the populace. Fierce and sanguinary frays
were fought in the streets between the citizens and the Alexandrian
followers of Theophilus. At length he and his followers consulted their
safety by a precipitate flight. This account is not incompatible with
the assertion of Chrysostom himself in his letter to Innocent, that
after his recall he incessantly demanded the convocation of a General
Council to absolve him from the verdict of the false synod, and to
reinstate him in possession of his see; that the Emperor consented, and
that, as soon as the imperial summonses were issued in all directions,
Theophilus, dreading the scrutiny of his conduct, embarked in the dead
of night, and sailed in haste for Alexandria.[584] The citation of the
council, and the hostility of the people, may well have concurred to
hasten his departure. The General Council seems never to have regularly
assembled. Theophilus was cited to attend it after he had returned to
Alexandria, but excused himself on the plea that the Alexandrians were
so deeply attached to him, he feared a sedition would take place if
he were again to absent himself. No less than sixty bishops, however,
who had congregated in Constantinople, though not apparently convened
in synodal form, solemnly declared their sense of the illegality
and injustice of the late proceedings at the Synod of the Oak, and
confirmed Chrysostom in the resumption of his see.