The holy New Martyr and wonderworker Ephraim was born in Greece on
September 14, 1384. His father died when the saint was young, and his
pious mother was left to care for seven children by herself.
When
Ephraim reached the age of fourteen, the all-good God directed his steps
to a monastery on the mountain of Amoman near Nea Makri in Attica. The
monastery was dedicated to the Annunciation and also to Saint Paraskeva.
Here he took on his shoulders the Cross of Christ, which all His
followers must bear (Matt. 16:24). Being enflamed with love for God,
Saint Ephraim eagerly placed himself under the monastic discipline. For
nearly twenty-seven years he imitated the life of the great Fathers and
ascetics of the desert. With divine zeal, he followed Christ and turned
away from the attractions of this world. By the grace of God, he
purified himself from soul-destroying passions and became an abode of
the All-Holy Spirit. He was also found worthy to receive the grace of
the priesthood, and served at the altar with great reverence and
compunction.
On September 14, 1425, the barbarous Turks launched
an invasion by sea, destroying the monastery and and looting the
surrounding area. Saint Ephraim was one of the victims of their frenzied
hatred. Many of the monks had been tortured and beheaded, but Saint
Ephraim remained calm. This infuriated the Turks, so they imprisoned him
in order to torture him and force him to deny Christ.
They locked
him in a small cell without food or water, and they beat him every day,
hoping to convince him to become a Moslem. For several months, he
endured horrible torments. When the Turks realized that the saint
remained faithful to Christ, they decided to put him to death. On
Tuesday May 5, 1426, they led him from his cell. They turned him upside
down and tied him to a mulberry tree, then they beat him and mocked him.
“Where is your God,” they asked, “and why doesn’t he help you?” The
saint did not lose courage, but prayed, “O God, do not listen to the
words of these men, but may Thy will be done as Thou hast ordained.”
The
barbarians pulled the saint’s beard and tortured him until his strength
ebbed. His blood flowed, and his clothes were in tatters. His body was
almost naked and covered with many wounds. Still the Hagarenes were not
satisfied, but wished to torture him even more. One of them took a
flaming stick and plunged it violently into the saint’s navel. His
screams were heart-rending, so great was his pain. The blood flowed from
his stomach, but the Turks did not stop. They repeated the same painful
torments many times. His body writhed, and all his limbs were
convulsed. Soon, the saint grew too weak to speak, so he prayed silently
asking God to forgive his sins. Blood and saliva ran from his mouth,
and the ground was soaked with his blood. Then he lapsed into
unconsciousness.
Thinking that he had died, the Turks cut the
ropes which bound him to the tree, and the saint’s body fell to the
ground. Their rage was still not diminished, so they continued to kick
and beat him. After a while, the saint opened his eyes and prayed,
“Lord, I give up my spirit to Thee.” About nine o’clock in the morning,
the martyr’s soul was separated from his body.
These
things remained forgotten for nearly 500 years, hidden in the depths of
silence and oblivion until January 3, 1950. By then a women’s monastery
had sprung up on the site of the old monastery. Abbess Makaria (+ April
23, 1999) was wandering through the ruins of the monastery, thinking of
the martyrs whose bones had been scattered over that ground, and whose
blood had watered the tree of Orthodoxy. She realized that this was a
holy place, and she prayed that God would permit her to behold one of
the Fathers who had lived there.
After some time, she
seemed to sense an inner voice telling her to dig in a certain spot. She
indicated the place to a workman whom she had hired to make repairs at
the old monastery. The man was unwilling to dig there, for he wanted to
dig somewhere else. Because the man was so insistent, Mother Makaria let
him go where he wished. She prayed that the man would not be able to
dig there, and so he struck rock. Although he tried to dig in three or
four places, he met with the same results. Finally, he agreed to dig
where the abbess had first indicated.
In the ruins of an
old cell, he cleared away the rubble and began to dig in an angry
manner. The abbess told him to slow down, for she did not want him to
damage the body that she expected to find there. He mocked her because
she expected to find the relics of a saint. When he reached the depth of
six feet, however, he unearthed the head of the man of God. At that
moment an ineffable fragrance filled the air. The workman turned pale
and was unable to speak. Mother Makaria told him to go and leave her
there by herself. She knelt and reverently kissed the body. As she
cleared away more earth, she saw the sleeves of the saint’s rasson. The
cloth was thick and appeared to have been woven on the loom of an
earlier time. She uncovered the rest of the body and began to remove the
bones, which appeared to be those of a martyr.
Mother
Makaria was still in that holy place when evening fell, so she read the
service of Vespers. Suddenly she heard footsteps coming from the grave,
moving across the courtyard toward the door of the church. The footsteps
were strong and steady, like those of a man of strong character. The
nun was afraid to turn around and look, but then she heard a voice say,
“How long are you going to leave me here?”
She saw a tall
monk with small, round eyes, whose beard reached his chest. In his left
hand was a bright light, and he gave a blessing with his right hand.
Mother Makaria was filled with joy and her fear disappeared. “Forgive
me,” she said, “I will take care of you tomorrow as soon as God makes
the day dawn.” The saint disappeared, and the abbess continued to read
Vespers.
In the morning after Matins, Mother Makaria
cleaned the bones and placed them in a niche in the altar area of the
church, lighting a candle before them. That night Saint Ephraim appeared
to her in a dream. He thanked her for caring for his relics, then he
said, “My name is Saint Ephraim.” From his own lips, she heard the story
of his life and martyrdom.
Since Saint Ephraim glorified
God in his life and by his death, the Lord granted him the grace of
working miracles. Those who venerate his holy relics with faith and love
have been healed of all kinds of illnesses and infirmities, and he is
quick to answer the prayers of those who call upon him.
){kind=link}
0 comments:
Post a Comment