Not seven days have passed since we
celebrated the holy feast of Pentecost and again we’re overtaken by a
chorus of martyrs, or better, serried ranks of martyrs, which are in no
way lesser than the ranks of the angels seen by the Patriarch Jacob but
equal to and of the same worth as them. Because martyrs and angels
differ only as regards the name, whereas in their works they’re united.
Angels reside in the heavens, but so, too, do the martyrs. The former
are eternal and immortal; the martyrs will become so. But have the
latter assumed a bodiless form? What does it matter? Because the
martyrs, even though they’ve got a body, are still immortal, or rather,
before immortality, the death of Christ adorns their bodies even more
greatly than immortality. The sky, be it adorned with ever so many
stars, is not so bright as the bodies of the martyrs, which are made
beautiful by the blood of their wounds. So, because they died for Him,
they are, in fact, superior and have been decorated before achieving
immortality, since they were crowned from the moment death.
‘You have made them a little lower than
the angels, with glory and honour you have crowned them’, said David,
regarding the nature of the whole of the human race. But when Christ
came, He completed this small amount, because He condemned death by His
own death. That’s not what I’m saying though. What I mean is that this
defect of death became an advantage. If they hadn’t been mortal, they
wouldn’t have become martyrs. So, had there been no death, there
wouldn’t have been any crown. Had there been no death, there would not
be martyrdom. Had there been no death, Saint Paul wouldn’t have been
able to say ‘I affirm by the pride in you that I have in Christ Jesus
our Lord: I die every day’. Had there been no death and corruption, the
same Apostle wouldn’t have been able to say, ‘Now I rejoice in my
sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is
lacking in Christ’s afflictions’. Therefore let us not be sad that we’re
mortal, but rather let’s be grateful, since the arena of martyrdom’s
been opened to us by death and, by corruption, we’ve been given the
chance of winning the prize. From now on, we’ve got a reason to strive.
Do you see God’s wisdom? [Also a
reference to Christ. Churches named Ayia Sofia (Holy Wisdom) are
dedicated to the Lord. WJL]. How the worst disaster that could have
befallen us (I mean death), was caused by the devil, but was changed by
Him into honour and glory for us, bringing His athletes to the prize of
martyrdom in this way? So what should we do? Thank the devil for death?
Perish the thought. Because the feat was no work of his will, but a gift
of the wisdom of God. The devil brought it upon us to destroy us and to
bring us back to dust, expunging any hope at all of salvation. But,
with His own death, Christ changed the whole course of things, and,
through our own very death raised us again to the heavens. So let no-one
blame me for calling the assembly of martyrs a chorus and a battalion,
giving two opposite names to the same thing. Although ‘chorus’ and
‘battalion’ are opposites, here they’re united. Because they went to
their tortures as if they were dancing with pleasure and, as if they
were engaged in battle, they displayed all their bravery and stamina and
defeated the enemy. Of course, if you examine the nature of what
happened, it was a battle, a war and serried ranks. But if you look at
the disposition of those who suffered, it was dancing, relaxation,
feasting and the greatest pleasure.
Do you want to know how this was more
terrible than war? I mean, regarding the martyrs. What, in fact, is the
worst thing about war? On one side and the other, fortified camps are
set up, shining with armaments that brighten the whole of the
surrounding area. From all sides, they shoot volleys of arrows that, by
their very numbers, hide the sky. Blood flows in rivulets onto the
ground and there are heaps of corpses everywhere. Like stands of wheat
at harvest time, soldiers are mown down. Now let me lead you into the
other battle.
Here, again, there are two opposing sides: that of the
martyrs and the other of the tyrants. But the tyrants are armed to the
teeth, whereas the martyrs are fighting with their bodies exposed. Yet
victory belongs to the naked not to the well-armed. How can you not be
amazed that the person being scourged actually defeats the one who’s
whipping him, the person who’s bound overcomes the one who’s free, the
person being burnt defeats the one who’s doing the burning, or that the
one who’s killed overthrows the killer? Do you see how the former are
more terrible than the latter? The latter are, indeed, terrible, but in a
natural way, whereas the former transcend natural means so that you may
learn that their feats are from the grace of God. Even though there’s
nothing more unfair than this battle. What’s more illegitimate than
these contests? In war, you’ve got two sides that fight under
protection, but the same’s not true here: one’s naked and the other
armed. In the games, both contestants can raise their arms against each
other: here, one’s tied and the other can strike freely. Those who
judge, as if by some authority, appropriate to themselves the right to
maltreat others, while the righteous martyrs are given the privilege of
being maltreated. This is how they fought against the saints, though
even so they couldn’t defeat them: after this unequal contest, once
they’d been beaten, they retired. It’s like taking a soldier into
battle, cutting off the tip of his spear, removing his body armour and
then ordering him to fight with an exposed body. And then, despite the
blows and multiple wounds he receives, the soldier’s the one who raises
the trophy of victory.
The martyrs were, indeed, led naked,
with their hands tied behind their backs; they were struck and cut from
all sides and were thus overcome. But, despite their wounds they raised
the trophy of victory against the devil. When you strike a diamond, it
makes no impression, it doesn’t soften it, but rather ruins the hammer
hitting it. Just so with the souls of the saints. Although they were
tortured so greatly, they suffered no harm but dispelled the power of
those who were striking them. The martyrs were tied to planks of wood,
their sides were pierced, opening up deep rivulets, as if the earth were
being ploughed, though without their bodies being cut up. You’d see
loins ripped open, ribs pierced, breasts crushed, and the bloodthirsty
beasts didn’t even stop at this. When they took them down from the wood,
they stretched them on iron grills above burning hot coals. Then there
were even worse things to see than we mentioned above: two sets of
drops, of blood and from the melting of the flesh. But the saints were
lying on the grill as if it were a bed of roses and watched what was
going in with great satisfaction.
Now when you hear ‘iron grill’, turn
your mind to the notional ladder that the Patriarch Jacob saw extending
from the earth to the sky. There were angels descending it and the
martyrs ascended, with the Lord supporting all of them. The saints
couldn’t have borne such pain had they not been supported on the ladder.
So the angels ascended and descended and the martyrs ascended. Why is
this? Because the angels were sent to serve those who were to inherit
salvation, but when the martyrs departed as victors and athletes, once
they were free of the contest, they went thereafter to meet the master
of the games.
Source-Pemptousia.com
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