CHRYSOSTOM’S SUFFERINGS FROM THE WINTER COLD—DEPREDATIONS
OF THE ISAURIANS—THE MISSION IN PHŒNICIA—LETTERS TO
INNOCENT AND THE ITALIAN BISHOPS—CHRYSOSTOM’S ENEMIES
OBTAIN AN ORDER FOR HIS REMOVAL TO PITYUS—HE DIES
AT COMANA, A.D. 407—RECEPTION OF HIS RELIQUES AT
CONSTANTINOPLE, A.D. 438.
Thus the autumn of A.D. 404 wore away. The time of the exile was
occupied, not unpleasantly, by sending and receiving letters, and his
spirits were cheered by occasional visits from friends. The destitute
in the neighbourhood of Cucusus were relieved by his alms; the mourners
comforted by his affectionate sympathy; some persons taken captive by
the Isaurians obtained a release through his intercession or ransom.
But the winter, always severe in that elevated region, set in this year
with unusual rigour: all communication with the outer world was cut off
by the impassable condition of the roads, and the cold told cruelly on
the delicate constitution of the poor exile. In a letter to Olympias,
written just on the return of spring A.D. 405, he draws a pitiable
picture of his winter sufferings. For days together he lay in bed; but,
in spite of being wrapped under a very pile of blankets, with a fire
constantly burning in his room, he could not keep out the cold. He
suffered from constant sleeplessness, headache, sickness and aversion
from all food; but, with the return of milder weather in spring, “he
was brought up again from the gates of death;” and he compares the
softness of the climate at that season to the amenity of the air of
Antioch. His spirits also were raised by the arrival of messengers from
Constantinople, bringing letters from Olympias and other friends.[651]
But the blessings of restoration to health and warm weather were
counterbalanced by the misery of constant disturbance from the Isaurian
bandits, who commenced their marauding campaigns as soon as the
break-up of winter made the country practicable for their operations.
They swarmed over the whole neighbourhood, and the roads which had been
impassable from snow were now impassable from robbers, who mingled much
merciless bloodshed with their plunder. When the full blaze also of
summer heat came, Chrysostom found it almost as injurious to his health
as the excessive cold; but he kept up his correspondence with his
friends with unabated assiduity.[652]
The mission in Phœnicia occupied a great deal of his attention
during this year. He had written, as already related, from Nice to
Constantius, the superintendent of the mission, exhorting him not to
allow the work to flag, owing to his own deposition and banishment,
but rather to carry it on with additional energy. The efforts of the
missionaries had begun to provoke a rather fierce opposition on the
part of the Pagans, and attempts were made to deprive them of the bare
necessaries of life. But Chrysostom’s confidence and zeal never failed
for a moment. The missionaries were to keep him informed of their
wants, for, through the liberality of his friends, he could supply
them with all that they required. He was ably seconded by Nicolaus,
a priest, who, though living at a distance, supplied the mission not
only with money but with men. Gerontius, a presbyter whom Chrysostom
had persuaded to abandon a solitary ascetic way of life for missionary
work, was anxious to visit Cucusus on his way to Phœnicia; but
Chrysostom begs him not to delay, as the work was urgent and winter was
approaching. He represents the greater advantages of the active life
Gerontius was now embracing. There would be nothing to prevent him
observing his fasts, vigils, and other ascetic practices, as before,
for the good of his own soul, and at the same time, by his missionary
labours, he would reap the reward of those who save the souls of
others.[653]
The Pagan resistance assumed more alarming proportions as time went
on. A letter written to the missionaries seems to imply, by its tone
of mingled warning and exhortation, that their courage was beginning
to fail. Chrysostom had recourse to his favourite comparisons of the
pilot and the physician, who exert twofold energy as the violence of
the storm and the disease increase. Rufinus, a presbyter, seems to
have been sent into Phœnicia as a kind of special agent to restore
peace, and is stimulated to his work by an animated letter. “I hear
that the rage of the Greeks in Phœnicia has burst forth again, that
several monks have been wounded, and some even killed. Wherefore I
urge you the more earnestly to set out upon your journey with great
speed, and take up your position.”... “If you saw a house in a blaze
you would not retreat, but advance upon it as quickly as possible, so
as to anticipate the flames. When all is tranquillity it is within the
compass of almost any one to make converts, but when Satan is raging
and the devils are in arms, then, to make a gallant stand and rescue
those who are falling into the hands of the enemy, is the work of a
noble, vigilant spirit, a work which befits an alert and lofty mind
like yours, an apostolic achievement worthy of crowns innumerable and
rewards which defy description.” He entreats Rufinus to write to him
from every halting-place on his journey, and to keep him constantly
informed of all which might take place after his arrival. He would
send, if necessary, ten thousand times to Constantinople, in order to
provide Rufinus with all things necessary to facilitate his journey
and procure his ultimate success. The letter closes with a passage
which remarkably illustrates the importance attached to reliques.
“With regard to the reliques of the holy martyrs, feel no anxiety,
for I immediately despatched the most religious presbyter, my Lord
Terentius, to my Lord Oneius, the most religious Bishop of Arabissus,
who possesses many reliques indisputably genuine, which in a few days
we will forward to you into Phœnicia.”... “Use diligence to get the
churches which are yet unroofed completed before the winter.”[654]
There is no further record of the future progress or ultimate issue of
this mission, in which the heart of the exile was so deeply wrapped up.
Theodoret (v. 29) merely says that through the energy of Chrysostom
the extirpation of idolatry in Phœnicia, and the destruction of
Pagan temples, were successfully carried on. But there are instances
of the existence of Paganism mentioned in the middle of the fifth
century;[655] and it is only too certain that, under the feeble and
degenerate successors of Chrysostom, the work would not receive any
powerful impulse. Partly from the absence of a great central organising
force like the Papacy, partly from the irregular and unpractical
temperament of the Eastern nature, missionary enterprises have not
proceeded in great number from the Eastern Church. The preaching of
Ulphilas to the Goths, the missions organised by Chrysostom among the
Goths and in Phœnicia, and the missionary labours of the Nestorians in
Asia, are but the rare exceptions which prove the rule.
The misery and desolation caused in the neighbourhood of Cucusus by
the Isaurians seem to have culminated in the winter of A.D. 405-406
and the ensuing spring. The inhabitants of the villages fled from
their homes at the approach of these formidable robbers, and sought a
precarious refuge in woods and caves. Many perished from cold in these
wild retreats, and many more at the hands of the ruffian robbers, who
showed no mercy even to the aged, the women and children. Chrysostom
himself was, like others, frequently moving from place to place, now
in this village, now in that, sometimes in the woods or secluded
places. The only spot in which the poor harassed people seem to have
found tolerable security was in the strong fortress of Arabissus, a
neighbouring town. Yet even here they ran considerable risks. A body of
300 Isaurians attacked and very nearly captured it in the middle of the
night; and the discomfort was extreme at all times, for the castle was
crowded like a prison; the difficulty of obtaining food was often very
great, and the difficulty of corresponding with friends still greater.
Privation, anxiety, and frequent hurried movements in cold weather
brought severe illness on Chrysostom again. Physicians attended him
with great kindness, but the impossibility of procuring comforts and
wholesome food rendered their services almost nugatory. His greatest
grief, however, seems to have been the difficulty of maintaining
regular correspondence with friends. The bearer of a letter from
Olympias actually fell into the hands of the robbers, but was released;
in consequence of which Chrysostom entreats her not to send any more
special messengers, but only to avail herself of such persons as were
obliged by business to pass through his place of exile. He would not
add to his present sufferings the distress of knowing that any life had
been lost on his account.[656]
To the year A.D. 406 belong those letters of affectionate gratitude,
written to the bishops of the West, for their zeal in supporting his
cause, especially those who had undertaken a long and perilous voyage
to Constantinople to intercede in his behalf. These letters were sent
by the hands of Evethius, the presbyter, who had for some time been his
companion in exile. One letter may be quoted as an example: “I had
already been amazed at your zeal, on behalf of the reformation of the
Church, displayed for a long time; but most of all am I now astonished
at your great earnestness, in having undertaken so long a journey by
sea, full of labour and toil, on behalf of the interests of the Church.
I have longed continually to write to you, and offer you the salutation
due to your piety; but since that is not possible, living as I now am
in a region almost inaccessible, I take advantage of a most honourable
and reverend presbyter to send you greeting, and to beseech you to
persevere to the end in harmony with such a noble beginning. For ye
know how great will be the reward of your patience, how vast the return
from a benevolent God to those who labour for the common peace, and
undergo so great a conflict.”[657]
To Chromatius, bishop of Aquileia, he writes thus: “The loud-voiced
trumpet of your warm and genuine affection has sounded forth even as
far as to me, a clear and far-reaching blast indeed, extending to the
very extremities of the world. Distant as we are, we know, not less
than those present with thee, thy exceeding and burning love; wherefore
we long extremely to enjoy a meeting with thee face to face. But, since
the wilderness in which we are imprisoned precludes this, we fulfil
our desire, as well as we can, by writing to you through our most
honourable and reverend presbyter, expressing our great gratitude for
the zeal which you have for so long a time displayed in our behalf;
and we beg you, when he returns, or by the hands of chance messengers
who may visit this desolate spot, to send tidings of your health, for
you know how much pleasure it will afford us to hear frequently of the
welfare of those who are so warmly disposed towards us.”[658]
The letter written by Chrysostom in A.D. 406 to Innocent is full of
grateful acknowledgments for all the efforts which he had made, and
was still making, on his behalf. “Though separated by so vast a length
of journey, yet are we near your Holiness, beholding with the eye of
the soul your courage, your genuine, inflexible firmness, and we derive
constant and abiding consolation from you. For the higher the waves
are lifted up, the more numerous the rocks and reefs, the more does
your untiring vigilance increase.... This is now the third year of my
exile, spent in the midst of famine, pestilence, continual sieges, an
indescribable wilderness, and the pillage of the Isaurians. In the
midst of these distresses and dangers, your constant and firm affection
is no ordinary solace to me.”[659]
There is a letter also addressed to Aurelius,[660] bishop of Carthage,
thanking him for bold and persevering intercession in his behalf.
The Church of Africa appears to have adhered to what was at first
the resolution of the Roman Church, to maintain communion with
both Chrysostom and Theophilus. St. Augustine has bestowed a high
eulogium on Chrysostom,[661] and an African council, in A.D. 407,
passed a resolution to address a letter to Innocent, praying that
the intercourse between the Churches of Rome and Alexandria might be
resumed.
The health of the exile appears to have suffered less than usual, in
the winter of A.D. 406-7, from the effects of the cold. By carefully
remaining in the house, and for the most part in bed, wrapped up in
blankets in an apartment where a fire was kept constantly burning, and
by use of a medicine sent him by a lady, his attacks of headache and
of sickness were averted or alleviated. He had become inured to the
want of exercise, the deprivation of the bath, and the smokiness of
the room; and even the natives were astonished at the firmness with
which so feeble and “spidery” (ἀραχνώδης) a frame endured the severity
of the climate. He began to feel a persuasion that God would not have
preserved him so miraculously through such various perils, if it were
not His purpose to restore him to his former position, that he might
accomplish some work for the Church.[662]
But the chief work which he was destined to accomplish was to exhibit
to the close of his life, now rapidly approaching, a noble spectacle
of Christian fortitude and patience, of one continuing to the last to
hope in God, to put his trust in God, and still to give Him thanks.
The malicious envy of his enemies was augmented by the admiration and
affection which pursued their victim from all parts of Christendom,
and the correspondence which was maintained with him even in the
mountain fortress which they had selected for his prison. The only
remedy was to remove him yet further, to a more remote and still more
inaccessible region. They worked upon the Emperor and the Court, whose
jealousy had been already excited by the interference of the West;
and, in the middle of June, A.D. 407, an order was obtained by them
for the removal of the exile to Pityus, on the eastern coast of the
Euxine, near the very frontier of the Empire, in the most desolate
country, inhabited by savage, barbarous people. The two prætorian
soldiers charged with conveying him thither were instructed to push on
the journey with the most inexorable haste, and encouraged to hope for
promotion should their prisoner die on the road. One of the two had
some sparks of humanity, and furtively showed some little kindness to
the sufferer; but the other followed out the cruel directions given him
with merciless fidelity. Chrysostom had, some time ago, expressed his
conviction that he could not survive the fatigue of another long and
laborious journey, yet for three months his fragile frame endured the
strain till he reached Comana in Pontus. A former bishop of that place,
Basiliscus, had suffered martyrdom in the persecution of Maximinus,
together with Lucian of Antioch. Chrysostom was lodged in the precincts
of the church erected in honour of Basiliscus, above five miles outside
the town. Here, so runs the story, the martyred bishop appeared to
him in the night, stood beside him, and said, “Be of good cheer, for
by to-morrow we shall be together.” A similar vision was vouchsafed
to one of the presbyters of the church. He was bidden “to prepare a
place for our brother John.” In the morning, Chrysostom entreated his
guards to allow him to stay where he was till eleven o’clock; but they
were inflexible, and the weary march was resumed. When, however, they
had proceeded about thirty stadia, he became so ill that they were
compelled to return to the martyry. Here he asked for white garments,
and having been clothed in them, he distributed his own raiment among
the clergy who were present. The Eucharist was administered to him, he
spoke a few farewell words to the ecclesiastics who stood around him,
and with the words “Glory be to God for all things, Amen,” on his lips,
the weary exile breathed his last.
“Rest comes at length; though life be long and dreary,
The day must dawn, and darksome night be past;
All journeys end in welcomes to the weary,
And heaven, the heart’s true home, will come at last.”
The promise of Basiliscus was literally fulfilled—he was buried in the
same grave with the martyr, in the presence of a large concourse of
monks and nuns.[663]
The enemies of Chrysostom thus succeeded in wreaking their vengeance
to the full upon the person of their victim—“Non missura cutem, nisi
plena cruoris hirudo;” but they were powerless to obliterate his
memory. A sense of the cruelty and injustice with which he had been
treated grew throughout Christendom, and he was more honoured and
admired after his death than he had been during his life. His followers
in Constantinople, under the appellation of Johnites, persisted in
refusing to hold any communion with Atticus; and in the course of
ten years, Atticus himself was constrained, by the solicitations of
the Court and people, by the example of other prelates, especially
Alexander of Antioch, and by a natural desire to maintain communion
with the Western Church, to admit the name of Chrysostom into the
diptychs of the Church of Constantinople. Cyril, the nephew and
successor of Theophilus, who inherited in too many points his uncle’s
spirit as well as his see, yielded a more tardy and reluctant consent
to the recognition of his uncle’s foe.[664]
But a still higher honour was yet to be paid to his memory by the
Church from which he had been so violently expelled. In A.D. 434,
Proclus, formerly a disciple of Chrysostom, was elevated to the see of
Constantinople. He conceived that the only effectual means of doing
justice to the injured saint, and reconciling the Johnites to the
Church, would be to transport his remains to the city. The consent
of the Emperor Theodosius II. was obtained. On January 27,[665] A.D.
438, the reliques of the banished Archbishop were brought to the
shores of the Bosporus. As once before in his lifetime, to greet him
on his return from exile, so now, and in still greater numbers, the
people, bearing torches, crowded the waters of the strait with their
boats to welcome the return of all which remained of their beloved and
much-wronged spiritual father. The young Emperor, stooping down, laid
his face on the reliquary, and implored forgiveness of the injuries
which his parents had inflicted on the saint whose ashes it contained.
That reliquary was then deposited near the altar of the Church of the
Apostles.[666] It is the sad story, so often repeated in history, of
goodness and greatness, unrecognised, slighted, injured, cut short in
a career of usefulness by one generation, abundantly, but too late,
acknowledged in the next; when posterity, paying to the memory and the
tomb the honours which should have been bestowed on the living man, can
only utter the remorseful prayer—
“His saltem accumulem donis, et fungar inani
Munere....”