Глава I. Антиохия и Константинополь

Glory to St. John Chrysostom was created as early as his talent and virtue appeared early. As soon as he left the school of the rhetorician Livanius, he only briefly practiced lawyerly eloquence, and perhaps - which, however, is already doubtful - and panegyric eloquence. From an early age he was noticed by Bishop Meletius, who, according to the biographer of St. Chrysostom, Bishop Palladius of Helena, already saw in him the close glory of the Antiochian Church, when in the 23rd year of his life he baptized him and ordained him as a reader. Soon he was sufficiently appreciated so that one could think about conferring on him the episcopacy, but in order to reject the honor, which terrified him as a danger, he considered himself forced to resort to a short-term flight, the explanation of which he gives in his treatise “On the Priesthood.” Not only did his vigilant conscience prevent him from considering himself already ripe for the Service, of which he had the most sublime idea, but also his pious concern for his own salvation unaccountably restrained him. He considered it necessary to continue that study of St. Scripture, into which he was carried away by his teacher Diodorus of Tarsus, and to fulfill, as far as possible, his long-conceived intention, which had not previously been carried out only due to the requests and tears of his mother. He wanted to fulfill the wonderful desire of a hermit’s life, which then captivated the minds and hearts of everyone. Finally, this day has come, is it because the pious mother of St. Joanna, Anthusa, nevertheless yielded to his insistence, or because he lost her during that period of time when he retired to the mountains surrounding Antioch and soon populated by hermits, following the example of the Egyptian deserts. The assumption about the death of the mother may be more plausible, since St. John would not have failed to inform us of her consent, which she initially refused him. For four years, he spent monastic life here in the company and under the direction of an old ascetic. Then, wanting to complete the test, he lived as a hermit for two years, confining himself in his cave. This continued until the moment when, at the same time, his disordered health failed him, and he himself, with his faithful and truthful, although extremely ardent mind, realized with certainty that these harshnesses should only prepare a true Christian for a life as pure as in solitude in the world. And so he returns to Antioch, from now on ready to gradually ascend through the successive degrees of the hierarchy. In 381, ordained as a deacon by Bishop Meletius, and in 386 by Flavian as a presbyter, he received from the elder bishop, more selfless than eloquent, the ministry of the word, and in the first days of his priesthood, he delivered his first conversation, which is still preserved to us. His genius at this time reached full maturity. Although the date of his birth is not precisely known, it is almost impossible to place it otherwise than between two extreme limits - 344 and 347; therefore he was now about forty years old. It is true that both the years of his solitude in the desert and the years of his diaconate were not fruitless. In continuation of them, he composed many very interesting treatises, where his literary talent is fully revealed and, if not yet fully developed, then at least his remarkable properties as a moralist are foreshadowed. It was then, for example, that he wrote his “Letters to Theodore the Fallen,” his “Defense of Monastic Life,” his treatise “On Virginity,” and even those books “On the Priesthood,” always surrounded by the special respect of the entire Christian clergy, which many look upon as his best work, and which, in any case, is truly the most processed, the most complete work in style. We will have to borrow a lot from all these treatises. But also St. We can learn about John and his time especially from his conversations and from all those explanations of St. Scriptures, which he gave the form of teachings. During the twelve years of his ministry in Antioch (386 - 398), then during the ten years of his bishopric in Constantinople (398 - 404), - and perhaps in the latter of these two translations in particular - he was truly a witness and judge of the morals of the fourth century. A large and magnificent city since its founding by Seleucus, Antioch has not ceased to grow since it became part of the Roman Empire. Since it was the usual point of departure for expeditions directed against the Persians, it often had to serve as a residence for emperors throughout the 4th century, when the hereditary enemy constantly disturbed the empire. Particularly decorated under Diocletian with many churches, palaces and baths, and under Constantine with a magnificent church, from the time of the disastrous coup that destroyed Nicomedia, it remained, together with Constantinople and Alexandria, one of the three metropolises of the East without rivals. The old city, the so-called Palea, lay along the length of the Orontes; the new one occupied a large island on the river itself, connected to the banks by means of five bridges. The inhabitants were proud of that magnificent street, 36 stadia long and bordered on both sides by porticoes, which crossed the city in a straight line, parallel to the river. Nowhere, apparently, did ancient civilization come so close to our new civilization in its reasonable concern for well-being and hygiene. The water supply was amazingly organized. The baths were extensive and magnificent and so necessary for the masses that during the famous disturbance, in the year 387, no punishment was felt more vividly than the order to lock them up for a few days; In addition, there was plenty of water in private houses. This reflected the superiority of Antioch over all ancient cities, which were best supplied with water, but in this respect, however, it was not the only one. What seems very special about Antioch is the excellent arrangement of proper lighting. Teacher St. Chrysostom, the pagan rhetorician Livanius, said that there the night differed from the day only in the quality of light, and that everyone, at his own request, could continue his work and his pleasures at night without difficulty. There were people who found that Antioch was even too well illuminated, such as Caesar Gall, who decided to resume the famous exploits of Nero and wanted to carry out nightly adventures with his companions in orgies at crossroads and in taverns. He found that he would be recognized too easily, and had to very soon give up his whim. Finally, Antioch had rich villages within its borders and, in addition, a whole suburb - Daphne, of which the Syrians were so proud that they usually called the capital itself by its name - “Antioch under Daphne”. It is known how difficult it is for statisticians to make any precise conclusion about everything that concerns antiquity. However, it is possible to approximately accurately determine the population of Antioch in the era we are talking about. Of course, it was one of the very largest, as well as the most beautiful, cities of the empire, but, nevertheless, among the largest it did not stand in first place. If we are talking about the East, then between the three metropolises: European, Egyptian and Syrian, this latter occupied only third place, and the first two were quite significantly superior to it. She was not equal to Constantinople; it was far from even equaling Alexandria, which at the end of the Lagid era apparently had 300,000 inhabitants and increased even more during the empire. St. himself Chrysostom 4 indicates for Antioch a number of 200,000 souls, and, although he is not always distinguished by minute precision in the field of numbers, here he can be considered accurate, since he confirms himself, saying, on the one hand, that there were a little less than 100,000 Christians, and on the other, that the majority of the inhabitants were Christians. All this seems to show that two hundred thousand should not be understood as a round number, and that the actual number may have been slightly less. The letter of Livanius also leads one to the same conclusion, where the rhetorician indicates only the number 150,000. True, this letter predates the just mentioned conversations of St. by at least twenty years. Chrysostom, but it is not very plausible that an entire quarter would increase in such a short period of time; therefore, without a doubt, we will not be much mistaken in admitting that in Antioch, in the continuation of the sermon of St. Chrysostom, the population was from 170,000 to 180,000 souls. We have just seen that the majority of this population was Christian. Antioch was the city where faith was first preached to the pagans, where the very name of a Christian was pronounced for the first time, and where the first dispute arose in the bosom of the nascent church, that dispute about the observance of the law that forced the apostle. Paul “in the face of resisting” the apostle. Petru. According to these great memories, Antioch was allowed to consider itself almost equal to Jerusalem or Rome. “When it comes to primacy,” said St. Chrysostom to his believers, “then you deign to make your city higher than the entire universe, because our city was the first to clothe itself in the name of a Christian.” On the eve of the triumph of Christianity, during the difficult trials caused by the persecution of Diocletian, the Christian community of Antioch discovered a great force of resistance. Sometimes the very situation of a certain number of its members became almost threatening. And in the case when Lactantius tells how the just promulgated imperial edict was torn up in Nicomedia, and when the historian Eusebius takes us to the moment of the destruction of the ancient church, the so-called Palea, and when St. Chrysostom or Prudentius tell us according to legend about the Roman torment - we everywhere feel in those being persecuted mental tension and hidden ardor, not inferior to the frenzied violence of the persecutors. This powerful and inflamed minority immediately after the victory of Constantine easily turned into a majority. Torn to pieces by Arianism under Constantius, the city again proved under Emperor Julian all the firmness and zeal of its faith. There was no dishonor that the sovereign did not receive; transferring the relics of St. Vavila was a sensitive blow for him and, as it were, an overt challenge. It is true that soon after this the Syrian church was again divided and temporarily weakened those disorders, the spectacle of which Julian was so pleased with. Dying Arianism left the city with a legacy of endless disagreements between bishops. Meletius and, on the one hand, Flavian, on the other, Peacock. These disputes became very heated - as happens whenever, in the essence of the matter, the basis of the dispute is only a question of personalities - but for this very reason they were never too deep or very dangerous. Such was the moment when St. John was called to the priesthood. Bishop Flavian, of all his powers, voluntarily transferred the word to him, and then this was the most important power in the entire Christian world, and especially in the eastern countries. Now we will see what kind of relationship was established from the very first day and constantly continued for twelve years between the speaker and the enthusiastic listeners, for whom he was a true shepherd, although he did not yet bear the rank of bishop. Christian cities were not yet properly divided into parts similar to our parishes. And St. Chrysostom therefore had to instruct and govern the entire Antiochian society. To listen to him, it gathered alternately in various churches of the city. We know quite well two of these buildings, which were among the most famous of the churches closed by the government since the victory of St. Konstantin. The most important was the “Great Church,” which Eusebius of Caesarea described to us in the form in which it was erected by St. Constantine, and which he recognized as a monument without equal. It did not belong to the class of basilicas in the proper sense, but belonged to the category of rotundas. A very tall dome rested on the body of an octagonal building. All around there was a vast fence, built up with small additional buildings, exedra. Valuable jewelry abounded everywhere; They especially did not spare gold, so this monument of art was sometimes called the “Golden Church”. Here, for example, a conversation was delivered on the 19th verse of the fifth chapter of the Gospel of John. The old church, or Palea, did not have the same splendor, and was certainly not so well adapted for large gatherings. On the contrary, the Great Church had a very convenient structure: its auditorium was spacious and well protected from heat in summer and from cold in winter. These advantages of St. Chrysostom contrasted the inconvenience of the circus, where the action took place in the open air. However, it seems that the ancient church was preferred by St. John, and perhaps his flock. This is explained by the fact that ancient tradition traced its origins to the apostles themselves, and, on the other hand, by the fact that it suffered a lot during persecution, especially under Diocletian, when its destruction served as a signal for measures of violence. The people gathered in it somewhat less often than in the Great Church, but when they gathered there, often after quite long intervals, St. John could hardly contain his enthusiasm. However, meetings did not always take place in the city. The village near Antioch was completely dotted with chapels in honor of the martyrs, which were called “martyriums”. On certain occasions, and as it seems quite often, the bishop called the faithful to one of these chapels, celebrated the liturgy there and then gave the floor to St. John. Sometimes this was prompted by some exceptional circumstance: for example, in one year, which is difficult to determine with precision, such an occasion was the completion of work undertaken, by order of Flavian, in one place where the relics of many martyrs rested among the bodies of some heretics, in order to separate the “wolves from the sheep” and give the latter a tomb worthy of them. Sometimes, on the contrary, this was required by established custom: for example, in Antioch they considered it a duty to perform the service of Good Friday, Paraskovia, outside the city, on the grounds that Jesus Christ suffered outside Jerusalem, and we even have a word spoken on this day by St. Chrysostom, probably in 392. It also happened that the flock was divided in two: one part remained in the city, the other retired to the adjacent chapels. And, perhaps, the more solemn of these two liturgies was the one that was celebrated outside the city, since Flavian sometimes left it to himself, and St. He left John in the city. It was here, on one of these occasions, that he delivered the conversation that we have preserved, “On the Martyrs.” Naturally, the bishop was followed by the most pious and most zealous flock. But if the splendor of extraordinary celebrations, which from time to time so enlivened the artless suburban chapels, could attract even the indifferent, it just as often happened that they were held back by fear of fatigue, or, if it was summer, frightened by the heat. And we see this from the introduction to the conversation “On the joys of the future life,” where St. John, who now had the honor of preaching outside the walls of the city, expresses so much praise to his listeners for their ardor and courage that one can assume that only a small number of the faithful followed him this time, only the best of them. Throughout the long period of his apostolic ministry, St. John never spared his strength. Every year, with the return of Pentecost, the time of broadest activity came for him. He preached then almost every day, and his zeal never cooled, and he did not feel lacking in his inexhaustibly prolific eloquence. Undoubtedly, the most glorious of these Chrysostom Pentecostals was the Pentecostal of the year 387, when, immediately after the great indignation, he delivered his famous conversations “on the overthrow of statues.” One should not, however, forget that Pentecost, which he devoted to a consistent explanation of the book of Genesis. The same cannot be said about the whole year: since at that time it was somewhat difficult to gather people into assemblies very often, St. Chrysostom had to preach only once a week, on Sunday, or, at most, twice, on Saturday and Sunday. He addressed the entire community of the faithful in these huge meetings, in which often one preacher was not even able to satisfy the demands of the masses, so that, both before and after John, both Flavian and every other bishop passing through Antioch took part in the sermon 5 . Even the unenlightened, attracted by the enormous fame of St., were sometimes mixed in with the faithful. Chrysostom; for example, at the first time of his preaching, he sometimes saw that his conversations were attended by a fairly significant number of Anomeans, against whose teaching he was then preaching. But sometimes, on the contrary, people gathered in very limited numbers. This happened especially when he devoted the conversation to teaching the catechumens; Of these catechetical conversations, only two have survived to us. It was even assumed - which, however, is unreliable - that on certain occasions he convened only the best of his listeners, only those whom he considered capable of perceiving a more sublime teaching. Not without some plausibility, this explains the private nature of his conversations on St. Gospel of John. In those spiritual conversations that he held twice a week at an earlier hour than at which the usual meetings took place, he, perhaps, only to the most enlightened explained the most secret meaning of the Gospels, less adapted to the needs of simple souls, but, without a doubt, most pleasing to the minds of educated Syrians. Eloquence of St. Chrysostom is wonderful. His ease is truly amazing even for an Oriental speaker; it has liveliness and passion, harmony and sonorous fluidity; his period is exuberant and strong, like that of the Roman, but has a Syrian grace, somewhat effeminate, but always elegant and often touching. He has imagery and an inexhaustible inventiveness of original metaphors; his comparison is true and sharp. However, no matter how rare and natural these qualities are, no matter how perfectly he masters them, this is not what makes him especially remarkable. What is most remarkable is the practical inclination of his eloquence, and this is where he has no rival, not only in his time, but, perhaps, at all times. Great spiritual speakers: Bossuet, who read so much to St. Chrysostom and the one who pondered it, and even Burdalu (about whom it is not known whether he was engaged in the same way, but who, however, is very similar to him in his constant concern to bring direct benefit and in his predominant desire to choose a specific goal in each of the words), stand above St. John not by the fertility of his genius, but by the perfection of his art. The ideal of Christian preaching is and will always be to use, without any regard to purely sensual beauty, forms of speech and techniques of language that produce a strong and fruitful impression on the listeners. Of course, if we judge Bossuet and Bourdalou not by the requirements of a scientist, but by this ideal, then they cannot be humiliated for the fact that they surpass Chrysostom in their exquisite care for style and composition. This is fair on the one hand because the society to which they turned first of all required this particular concern from them, so it was impossible to have a solid hope of influencing people without ensuring this advantage for themselves; and on the other hand, because, in turn, St. Chrysostom made broad concessions to the taste of his age. And yet the former are not superior to the latter; We don’t even think that they are equal to him. One should not, however, think that St. Chrysostom, without hesitation, completely mastered his manner, and the very first impulse of his soul led him directly to the real path. The first talk he gave after his ordination to the priesthood is very flowery and very strained. We will not say, as they sometimes do, too much, that is, that here one can feel the imitation of his teacher, the rhetorician Livanius, since at least twenty years have passed since he left the school of the sophist, and it seems that in general this latter never had as much influence on him as is attributed to him. In all his works, the student never mentions the name of his old teacher and only once makes a rather disparaging allusion to him, saying that in his youth he had a teacher “a very superstitious pagan.” But here he gave in to the movement of inevitable pride: on this day it was necessary to maintain his reputation, to prove his rights to dominance. This was a debt that had to be paid simultaneously by both Bishop Flavian and the people. During this entire first period, he perhaps thought somewhat less about the very government of believers, about their progress and moral improvement - apparently an invisible and modest task - than about the brilliant and loud speeches to which polemics against rival sects always gave place. Thus, during the first years of his preaching, he was given the opportunity to attack Jews, Anomeans and pagans, and not only for a certain reason or in the very close interests of his flock - which he continued to do subsequently - but in direct and prolonged attacks, in a whole series of conversations representing a real campaign. Then, it seemed, he often regretted that he did not have the opportunity to enter into a deep exposition of theology often enough, and he happened to complain that the carelessness and indifference of his listeners almost exclusively kept him in the everyday trifles of moral teaching. These words are very strange to hear from his lips to anyone who reads them, thinking about the future, and remembers that later, in his interpretations of St. Scripture, he constantly leaves the explanation unfinished and seizes on the slightest pretext to direct his speech to some kind of moral teaching. Here we see the hesitations and mistakes of the beginner, which he corrected very quickly, and this correction was a great merit for him, because the listeners willingly carried him along this path, which, apparently for a moment, seduced him too. It took a lot of prudence and courage not to give in to the secret sweetness of applause, which he, by his own admission, always felt, even when he tried, albeit somewhat weakly, to destroy them. And these applause bursting out from among the Syrian crowd, greedy for brilliant words and beautiful dialectical competitions, more readily accompanied some intricate image, some dogmatic subtlety or happy movement, than those long, often even condemned, introductions in which St. John tried to apply to universal understanding the words of the sacred text, or those bold conclusions where he came face to face with vices, without mercy or silence. But almost immediately, already in the second year of his preaching, an unforeseen catastrophe showed him to himself and revealed to everyone his inner nature, revealing his whole soul to the outside. This was the famous outrage of 387. We will not here, after many others, retell the history of well-known events, studied, moreover, with due care, so that even the details in it are sufficiently illuminated, and very few dark sides remain. But we must not neglect to show how in these difficult circumstances the true personality of St. Chrysostom. It was then that for the first time all the characteristic features that made his personality so original among all other saints clearly stood out and appeared in full light. fathers. Here, first of all, one can see with what passionate zeal, with what perfect and selfless self-denial he devoted himself to his holy service. Never has there been more complete communication between shepherd and flock. In the midst of a crowd mad with fear and given over to all sorts of fears, a man stands up in order to raise its spirit, and speaks not as a superior, not as a teacher, but as a brother and comrade of misfortune. It seems that he himself shares the guilt of those who sinned, as one of them, feels the horror of their unknown, and that the danger that threatens them also threatens him. And indeed, if anyone was struck, his heart was torn to pieces, as if he himself had been struck. Never has an orator been in greater unanimity with his audience, or more directly expressed their deepest feelings and most changeable impressions. But he both advises and reproaches, always, however, with equally touching tenderness, since his voice, apparently, is the same one that everyone hears in the depths of his soul - a voice just as sincere and strong, only it has become clearer and more intelligible. But his passionate love, ready not to yield to any sacrifice, has its own inexorable demands and wants to be reciprocated. Following his example, one must remain strong so as not to lose heart in those dark days when the expectation of imminent and merciless punishment hovers over the city. It is necessary, following his example, to remain master over oneself and not indulge in impulses of senseless joy, when, apparently, hope is being revived, when the first indicators make it possible to foresee the end of the crisis and tempt with the expectation of imperial mercy. Especially in the event that this abandoned people, constantly wavering between the most extreme feelings, again indulged in some new thoughtless anxiety, and if, moreover, its leader, in whom he trusted, was accidentally kept untimely illness - it is necessary that he does not throw himself into the hands of another, does not beg, or, at least, does not accept rival patronage. St. Chrysostom did not hide the fact that his love was jealous, and never were his reproaches more vivid than on the morning of the day when the insane fear of his flock, left to their own devices due to his absence, attracted the prefect to the church. There is no doubt that this prefect, who strictly fulfilled his duty, was a pagan, and this further intensified the horror of his mediation, from our point of view commendable and completely paternal. But even if this mediation were provided by a Christian, we think that St. John would have been no less offended that this intervention was necessary and that it was crowned with such complete success. Finally, what best shows how, from this second year of his ministry, the orator mastered, so to speak, his tactics of preaching, his art of leading and dominating the crowd, almost never letting them feel the reins, and what at the same time best measures the power he had already acquired, is his courageous and wise decision from the very beginning of the revolution not to interrupt the correct flow of his moral and dogmatic teaching. With what knowledge of the human heart, with what anticipation of the successive spiritual movements of the listeners, with what guessing of various currents that were secretly arising and suddenly breaking through in opposite directions, he was able in this series of conversations “On the overthrow of statues” to combine the usual catechetical teaching with the pathetic tone that the circumstances required. Undoubtedly, an excellent oratorical success was enjoyed by the one who managed, even in the days of arrests that repeatedly crossed this terrible period, to make listeners listen to such conversations as the seventh and eighth, the main subject and essence of which is nothing more than a simple interpretation of two verses from the book of Genesis, although, undoubtedly, in some places hints at a revolution are made, unwittingly or intentionally, and the very tone everywhere corresponds to the moment. It seems to us that no less worthy of surprise than these simple and sincere conversations is the one in which he describes the audience given to Bishop Flavian by the Emperor Theodosius, where he gives a very long but touching speech that caused the sovereign’s gracious decision. Let us note, however, since nothing should be exaggerated, that he was especially helped by the very time of the church year when these events took place, precisely by the fact that it was Pentecost. And one should not, for example, be surprised, as others do, that we see him preaching almost every day, since this was his tradition and always his custom during the weeks leading up to Easter. Such was he in these tragic days, and remained the same from now on in those ten years, during which Antioch enjoyed the happiness of seeing him with her, scorched by the same ardent jealousy and supported by the same stubborn passion. It is necessary to appreciate not only his excellent behavior during the indignation, but, on the contrary, his constant devotion to the apparently very thankless, but in fact very fruitful task, i.e., the management of the faithful, the usual and correct course of their lives, should be placed even higher. The teachings he spoke during this period, and which have survived to us in such large numbers, are almost always built on the same plan. In the most simplified and clear form, they combine the exegetical and dogmatic parts, and together the moral part, the most lively and convincing. Whether he makes the starting point of the conversation an explanation of the sacred text, or, on the contrary, discusses in it an object corresponding to the day, whether, finally, he denounces some vice or praises a virtue, the integral composition of the teaching always remains the same, and it consists of two indivisible elements. The extreme simplicity and everyday intimacy of almost all of these conversations now makes reading them for a long time somewhat difficult, but they are surprisingly adapted to the intentions of the speaker and have amazing power. Everywhere we see that the closeness that has been established since 387 between the preacher and his flock has remained the same forever. We do not need to labor to find expressions to characterize this unity, which became so close and lasted so long. St. himself Chrysostom gave these expressions in those outpourings with which his introductions are rich, and from here we can easily select original and touching features. “I was separated from you by only one day,” he exclaims after a one-day absence, “but I was worried and bored, as if my absence had lasted a whole year! And from what you yourself felt, you can conclude that I am telling the truth.” Another time he exclaimed: “I am weak and pathetic, and my eloquence is of little value, but when I see you, I forget all this. Such is the tyranny of our mutual love. Listen to me with diligence, for you are like the chicks of a swallow, waiting for a beak full of food.” Without a doubt, the listeners were not always equally serviceable and attentive, and whenever it was necessary, St. Chrysostom was not afraid to express his complaints to them. However, nothing could bring him to despair. “You can greet me with insults as much as you like (and he said many times that there were similar examples of ridicule), but I will not shake the dust from my feet and will do so not only for fear of refusing to obey the word of the Lord, but also because the ardor of my love for you is too cruel.” But he is in an excellent mood and feels completely different when the rows of listeners are close and their faces betray a good disposition. Then two feelings are mixed in him: if his love requires a constant and diligent herd, the improvement of which he could monitor, then his oratorical temperament also requires numerous and sympathetic listeners who would support and ignite him. But even if his flock scattered and his listeners were dissatisfied, he would still bear his duty. “The preacher must preach, regardless of whether they listen to him or not, just as water flows, even if it is not drawn.” But even these severe reprimands, no matter how frequent and strong they are, always remain paternal. We repeat that St. Chrysostom does not tyrannically dominate his flock, does not rise above them and does not separate himself from them. He is a brother among brothers, whose superiority shines clearly enough so that there is no need to let it be felt, and in order to avoid any conflict, he knows how to observe the most prudent caution, knows how not to show his authority unreasonably. Thus his unnoticed dominance was very firmly established. St.'s secret intentions John, as it were, gave out to everyone in a material and sensual sign, precisely in that innovation for his time, that he preached close to his beloved, as he called them, that is, not from an episcopal or priestly place, but from the pulpit, standing behind the reader’s lectern. (This curious detail is told to us by the historian Socrates). It is worth reflecting and thinking how rare all this was! And this man, who preached before his brethren, grew up among them; his whole life passed before their own eyes, or at least close to their city; everyone saw how his virtues were born and developed. He knew his listeners by name, easily saw all those who sought his acquaintance, knew everything that was happening in the city, how everyone behaved upon leaving the church and from the interview, and thus could direct his word day after day as needed. How convincing after this was and how faithfully the sincere and friendly voice of St. found its way to the heart. Chrysostom! How touchingly he cares about being understood by everyone, and how accessible and clearly he presents his subject in those long introductions for which overly demanding listeners have repeatedly reproached him. He is not afraid, if necessary, to present in a few words the conclusions from the previous conversation and, thus, always keeps the golden chain of his interviews intact and intact. How exactly he knows the somewhat changeable composition of his audience every time! Whether peasants came from the surrounding area, those unfortunate and ignorant, but honest villagers who could hardly speak other than Syrian, he also found greetings for them with a safe arrival. Whether foreigners passing through Antioch were present at the service, he, at the risk of boring his ordinary listeners, did not hesitate to repeat for a long time what had already been said in the previous days, so that everything would be clear to them and they would not lose the slightest share of benefit from the conversation. He inquires about the impression he made; knows when he has been fully understood and the lesson has reached its goal; knows, on the contrary, when he has strayed too far, and the minds of the listeners are tired. In his interpretations, St. Scripture, especially the Old Testament, he constantly returns to one thought, namely, that God, turning his word to people, condescends to human understanding. “This is the property of Divine wisdom: it begins with what descends to us and thereby attracts us.” On this occasion, every minute he repeats the word “condescension,” and this very word can be applied to him. He imitated this condescension to such an extent that in himself there was that same high condescension that he marveled at in the sacred text. That is why he is so eager to find out, through reconnaissance, or observation, what is the mood of the minds of his listeners. How he cares in particular about each of his flock! “If I discuss so much in each of my teachings, if I constantly change the subject,” (and indeed, the first characteristic feature of all his conversations is that, despite the titles they bear, they nowhere have a correct plan and never treat about one subject) “then this is due to my desire that everyone should find for themselves their own word, their prey, and no one would return home empty-handed.” All our work will consist in correctly collecting, citing and clarifying those exact details that we will encounter in such huge quantities from him. But it must be admitted without doubt that much of their definiteness and interest eludes our understanding. Those almost satirical details in which St. Chrysostom was so excellent and to which he brought so much pictorial inspiration, always have a great value for the excellent characterization of contemporary morals, but very often for contemporaries these details were supposed to characterize something else, namely the morals of this or that person, this or that party. We, therefore, undoubtedly lack a kind of key for many of his conversations, almost exactly as very often there is no such key for Juvenal’s satires. This, however, does not mean that St. John committed some kind of indiscretion and allowed himself to be too obviously carried away by personalities. This danger, it seemed, he always avoided in Antioch. He was less cautious in Constantinople, where bold hints seemed necessary to him and where he bravely decided to make them. In Syria, it seems, he could make these hints with less risk, but, apparently, here he avoided them, guided by a completely correct instinct, which told him that these methods sometimes produced more temptation than benefit. “Don’t be at all afraid, for I don’t call anyone by name,” he once said clearly. However, this very thing shows that, although he observed prudent delicacy and knew how to avoid any extreme, however, he did not stop at some fairly clear instructions. No one doubts that during the long period of his preaching in Antioch, morals changed somewhat from year to year, and it was not only the same vices that consistently produced temptation. It is possible for us to state facts of this kind only in some extremely rare cases, but it is indisputable that in fact these cases were frequent, and it is impossible that St. John, as we know him, did not take them into account directly. Vices are eternal and in their essence the same, but even over a very short period they appear in different forms, and their manifestations are constantly changing. The frivolous and changeable Syrians have always been the toys of fashion, reigning as powerfully over vices as over tastes. For our part, we are convinced - and let us be allowed this assumption, even if, unfortunately, it is too far from reality - that if we had the same abundant and accurate documents about the 4th century as we have about modern times, for example, about the 17th century, then we would find many small anecdotal finds in this treasure of conversations, so curious even in the form in which we can understand them. We are also convinced that then, according to the works of St. Chrysostom, it would be possible to carry out work similar to that which was once undertaken based on the works of Burdalou. This, apparently, was the preaching of St. John in Antioch, which can well be called an apostolic ministry. This constant and unfailing preaching for twelve years arouses the most incredulous surprise. Later, in the era when George of Alexandria wrote his biography of Chrysostom, St. All sorts of miracles could be attributed to John, forgetting what was often admitted by St. himself. Chrysostom thought 6 that there was a great difference between the times of the apostles and those that followed, that in these latter the source of supernatural works dried up significantly and miracles were seen only at the tombs of saints and martyrs. But his preaching is more amazing than any miracles; she herself is the best miracle, the wondrous fruit of mercy and love, that love that is the greatest of the immutable gifts bequeathed by Jesus Christ to his true disciples. St. Chrysostom in Constantinople We can almost rightly say that St. John at St. Flavian was the true bishop of Antioch. When he was left to his own devices, he probably did not want to leave this city, since he loved it doubly: as his homeland and as an apostolic city par excellence, the common daughter of the apostles Peter and Paul, “the metropolis of all Christianity,” in his own words. Once he would have succeeded his old bishop and would have grown old among his lovers, so there is no reason to suspect the truth of the traditional story, which reports that the agent of the eunuch Eutropius was forced to use cunning in order to take him to Constantinople. His fame had already spread too far, and his name had acquired too much splendor for him to be limited to serving in Antioch. And so, against his will, he was called upon to rule Christian society in the capital itself, and, moreover, it is remarkable that his name was brought forward and the naming was done by that eunuch Eutropius, with whom he was soon to enter into a struggle. This would seem rather strange and difficult to explain if it were not clear that the choice of the most worthy was inspired by the difficulty of election in the face of too many and unusually passionate rivalries. Of course, the new rank did not instill in the saint. John no vanity movement. He had no self-love, or, more precisely, he gave the most sublime form to everything in which he showed it, since we do not have the power to drown out the basic feeling of our own being, but can only control it. Entirely united in heart with his flock, he believed his glory was to state from time to time, not only for himself, but also publicly in his conversations, the progress to which he contributed and of which, in all fairness, he was even almost the exclusive culprit. From this point of view, moving from Antioch to Constantinople, he simultaneously lost and found. Perhaps from now on he was destined to receive less sweet and sincere joys in his relations with his flock, but he was to taste the harsh joy mixed with sorrow that comes from fighting for noble ideas and for a great cause. In this new position, St. John in many respects seems to us quite different from what he was like in Antioch, during the generally very calm years of his priesthood. It was now that he showed that, with all his deep tenderness and love, his nature on occasion could also be fiery and strong. However, even now the powerful forces of his soul, thanks to the influence of environment and circumstances, manifested themselves especially in self-denial and tenderness. Only in 387 did he provide evidence of determination and courage, which he did not show to the same extent subsequently. In Constantinople, Chrysostom was in the presence of the court, and it was impossible for him, given his understanding of the tasks of the episcopal office and the importance of preaching, to come into conflict with him, just as it was impossible for St. Ambrose and, probably a little later, for Blessed. Augustine, if this latter had been the head of the Church of Milan or Ravenna, and had not ruled the Church of Hippo. Even more than in Syria, the numerous and influential enemies of St. John, the rich and nobles, found terrible strength in the support of the court, and the clergy itself was mixed and for the most part rebellious. St. John was met here with all sorts of mistrust and envy, which soon turned into secret hostility and finally burst out suddenly. Theophilus of Alexandria at first glance understood St. quite correctly. Chrysostom. This courtier and veteran politician, from his first impression, recognized in him the eternal enemy of his own kind, an independent and idealist man, and a saint. John was inevitably condemned to fight and no less inevitably to defeat. Biographer of St. Chrysostom, ep. Palladius very correctly identified and summed up under nine points, which essentially boil down to two, the main reasons for the excited St. John of hatred. This reason was, on the one hand, the reform that he undertook in the morals of the clergy, striving to eradicate habits of magnificence and effeminacy, tolerated and even encouraged by the former Archbishop Nektarios, removing all useless expenses from the church and exclusively devoting its income to various works of mercy; on the other hand, the reform of morals undertaken by him in relation to the laity according to the principles by which he was already guided in Antioch. But this time he encountered more stubborn resistance and, inflamed, directly entered into the fight against it. He experienced first of all the attack of the bishops who quarreled with him as a result of various machinations of Theophilus, as gifted as he was devoid of a good conscience, Severian of Gaval, Antiochus of Ascalon, Acacius of Berry and Cyrin of Chalcedon - people of less extensive minds than the Patriarch of Alexandria, but in their own way cunning, insidious and evil. He was then haunted by the unforgivable anger of the insulted women, and the combined enmity of the widows Marza, Kastritsia and Evgrafia. Finally, after various changes of favor and disfavor, he entered into an endless feud with the Empress Eudoxia, and consequently with Arcadius, whom she ruled. Under such circumstances, he had to fall, even if he was surrounded on all sides by energetic devotion (for example, Deacon Serapion and some chosen priests), and pious love, similar to the love of Olympias or Pentadia, and even if he was so strongly supported by the love of the people, who decided for his defense not to retreat even in the face of open indignation. There are different opinions about the role of St. John in this revolution. There is a whole school of church historians who, in telling the facts, constantly try to soften his ardor, determination and unreasonable courage. These historians cannot, for example, forgive Socrates for recognizing St. Chrysostom was an impatient and enthusiastic person. There are, on the contrary, others who would willingly recognize St. John as the head of the party, something like a people's tribune. These historians love to repeat and explain the not entirely clear words of Zosima that St. Chrysostom was a man amazingly capable of leading a crowd. There is no truth in either of these extremes. St. John, of course, was a man. Just like one of his most famous predecessors at the See of Constantinople, St. Gregory of Nazianzus, he mercilessly pursued the vices he hated, and when the attack turned on himself, he energetically repelled the blow. However, between him and St. Gregory can see a difference that serves to his credit. At St. Gregory still somehow feels a remnant of pride; His tone and mood are more proud. Personality of St. John merges more completely with the cause that he defends and becomes completely impersonal in it. As for harshness, they were both harsh, and, however, can this be blamed on them? Gibbon, in one very interesting, and in places downright remarkable, although biased, article said that “the ardor of St. Chrysostom was not always free from passion and was not always guided by prudence.” But when, for the sake of serving the good, was passion prohibited? And is prudence the only virtue of saints? Thus, there is a lot of pharisaism hidden in this judgment of Gibbon. Following the example of Jesus Christ, St. John, usually imbued with only meekness, became harsh when it was necessary to be so, and if sometimes he went beyond the limit - which is almost undeniable - then such an extreme is beautiful. But the episcopal ministry of St. John in Constantinople was not entirely successful in those battles in which he, always morally great and powerful, even when it was not entirely safe in civil society, gave an example of a bishop exclusively absorbed in concern for spiritual interests and not restrained by any purely human considerations. Quite naturally amazed by the splendor of these events, historians are disposed to neglect the less striking, but equally beneficial, and perhaps even more respectable, side of the activity. St. Chrysostom, precisely by the influence that he constantly, and in calm times, had on the class of ordinary people, leading them to delight. And scholars, after reading the famous speech on Eutropius, do not always form a completely correct idea of ​​​​his real eloquence and ordinary manner, since they forget that this kind of conversation, like the previously spoken conversations about statues, necessarily represents something exceptional in the works of the preacher and cannot give a complete and absolutely accurate idea of ​​all his works. In our work we must not neglect these strifes of St. John with the courtyard; these quarrels must be given their proper place, but for their sake we must sacrifice nothing else. And let them not think that we will lose anything if we do not constantly adhere to the heights, but very often we will go down to watch the spectacle of a more modest, although no less fruitful, work. The Christian community in Constantinople was less numerous than in Antioch. This may seem surprising at first glance, but it becomes quite understandable if we remember the history of the city since the time of Constantine the Great. The new capital, Byzantium, had the advantage over all other cities of the empire that it owed its existence to the will of the Christian emperor. Meanwhile, pagans have long been quite numerous here, and Arianism, perhaps more than in all other places, gained predominant influence here. It is known what a minority Christians represented when Emperor Theodosius, with the help of armed force and amid popular curses, elevated St. to the throne. Gregory of Nazianzus. Under Bishop Nektarios, who was not a man capable of inciting passions, relative silence reigned. But if this noble bishop, thanks to his luxurious lifestyle, courtesy and even, complacent character, was able to return some heretics to the bowels of the church, then it is indisputable that these people, attracted by his more secular than pious customs, he recruited mainly from among indifferent persons who followed primarily the example of the court and the emperor. St. himself tells us that the crowd of people in Constantinople was less numerous than in Antioch. Chrysostom However, it is necessary to understand this message correctly. The number of Orthodox Christians in Constantinople was slightly less than 100,000; we saw that there were the same number of them in Antioch, and, therefore, the believers of the capital were less numerous only in relation to the entire population. St. Chrysostom, therefore, had a wonderful task ahead of him: little by little to regain his lost possession and again conquer Constantinople. But the obstacle was that deep reforms had to be carried out within the bosom of Christian society itself and required, first of all, all the concerns of the archbishop. These last reforms would even have absorbed his concerns for a long time, if the events that soon followed had not stopped his affairs. In addition, according to Socrates, he spoke out against Arianism and Novacianism many times. But, generally speaking, he could not extend his action outside the church itself. It was in her that he found his sweetest consolations, in the love of those poor people who were attached to him here as well as in Antioch. There is no doubt that during his bishopric he could not be devoted to them as exclusively as during his priesthood. Too many things called upon him, not to mention the absences, sometimes quite long, which were inevitable for him. Such, for example, was his trip to Asia, when he took upon himself, as it were, supervision of the main bishops. There were still periods when he preached twice a week, for example, when explaining the psalter. But it also happened that, to his great regret, he had to preach no more than once or twice a month. Sometimes a whole month would pass without him appearing in the pulpit. Nothing can show better than this the influence of circumstances upon him. In Constantinople, as well as in Antioch, he preached first in one parish, then in another; sometimes in the city itself, sometimes in the suburbs. Most often he spoke in the “Great Church,” located in the very center of the capital, on the main square, right in front of the magnificent Senate building and not far from the palace of the emperor himself. On this square a statue of the Empress Eudoxia was erected, and on this occasion completely pagan festivities were held for its opening, which inspired him with one of the most fearless speeches. He also convened the people to that dear to the hearts of all the faithful, the Church of Anastasia (Resurrection), which was in Constantinople in some way the same as Palea in Antioch. In this church the memory of St. was always alive. Gregory of Nazianzus, who preached here to a small number of faithful, after all the city churches came under the rule of the Arians. Meetings also took place in the Church of St. Irene or in some chapel, such as the “martyrium at the old stone.” We will see that the people were not always very diligent or very attentive, as in Antioch, and sometimes not entirely respectful. But despite all these shortcomings, he adored his bishop and loved him with deep tenderness. He was loved both for his eloquence and for his zeal, and whenever he, due to the courtesy that was common among bishops, gave the floor to a foreigner, the people were very dissatisfied and made it clear. Just as in Antioch, he responded to this love with no less passionate love. It is even somewhat difficult to choose the best of the usual expressions of his love. For example, a passage like this is touching: “If I asked you for money, would you be willing to pay it for me? When I was in extreme danger, would you not give up even part of your body, if possible? So think about what danger I would be exposed to if I were accused before God of not having time to correct you. Correct yourself, so that God will be merciful to me.” The same is true for another passage in the beautiful conclusion of one of his most beautiful conversations: “If I were not afraid that I would be accused of vanity, I would show you the inside of my home; you would see my cry when I see your falls; would see my joys when I feel your improvement. Let it be more pleasing to heaven that you should be saved, and I should be accused of doing my duty poorly, instead of me seeing you perishing, and myself receiving evidence that I neglected nothing for the sake of your salvation! It matters little to him that sometimes the listeners are so few in number. “Nevertheless,” he said, “I will exhort you, just as Jesus Christ did not neglect to speak to one Samaritan woman.” How ceaselessly and how closely does he supervise the behavior of the believers in order to learn about the benefits they derive from his lessons! Although in Constantinople he simultaneously had to bear the burden of very difficult affairs and protect himself from numerous attacks, however, here in particular, and even more than in his dear and peaceful Antioch, he uttered his most characteristic words on this occasion, best showing the extent to which his solicitude extended. “I would like to know: are you listening to what I tell you with due attention, fearing that I might sow past the furrow. For if I were confident in your attention, then my teaching would be more inspired and joyful. Of course, I will speak even when no one is listening, out of fear for the commandments of the Lord. “Preach to this people,” He actually says, “and if they do not open their ears, you yourself will not be innocent.” If I were convinced of your zeal and diligence, I would speak not only out of fear, but with joy. And now, although I am not in danger, even if no one listens to me, because I am doing my job, however, I undertake it without pleasure... How can I know if it brings you benefit? If I could notice that some among you are inattentive, I would try to find them especially and question them. And if I saw that they withheld at least something from my words - (I don’t say everything, for this is not easy, but only something from everything) - I would not suspect them.” Further, one feels improvisation, to such an extent his speech is full of freshness and charming simplicity. “I would like to give no warning and take you by surprise. But no, I will be happy even if, even after warning, I achieve my goal. However, what am I saying? I can still very well catch you now, in spite of everything, because although I warned that I would ask you, I did not say when. Maybe it will happen today, maybe tomorrow, or maybe in twenty or thirty days, that is, maybe earlier, maybe later. I will act according to the example of Providence, Which, for the same reason, leaves the day of our death unknown.” To this purely paternal instruction, the people of Constantinople responded, like the Antiochians, with boundless devotion, which, thanks to circumstances, could even better reveal itself in all its depth. The just quoted words of their bishop: “If I were in extreme danger, you would give me part of your own body,” showed that there was no exaggeration here. The resistance of the people during the first exile, so decisive that even Eudoxia had to yield to it, then, the joy of the people on the occasion of John's return - are known to us thanks to historians and the saint himself. Chrysostom. After the second exile, a real uprising occurred, during which the “Great Church” burned down along with the Senate, and it is most likely that the extreme supporters of St. were responsible for this fire. John. Such an aggravated state of affairs, as in the previous days, is almost never resolved except by catastrophes of this kind. When the case was finally lost, the supporters of St. John endured severe persecution with steadfastness and courage. But what exactly was the role of St. John in all these events? Did he encourage resistance, as they sometimes tried to prove, and did he occupy the position of head of the party against the court and the authorities? It is difficult to make a completely infallible judgment, but, in any case, we will get the impression that this assumption is not in favor of this assumption if we compare some of the different stories that have come down to us. From all these stories, from the testimony of both friends and opponents, it seems quite clear, on the one hand, that St. John tried to influence the decisions of the court by revealing public opinion - and this, of course, was his right; on the other hand - (and this was already his duty) - that he forever decided not to enter into an open fight. He acts only at the last extremity, after he hoped until the last minute that Eudoxia and Arkady would yield; when he realized that there was no hope of success left, he himself betrayed himself to the kurios 7 and, without resistance, resigned from the cause of power. The real nature of this behavior becomes quite clear in the light of rapprochement. Let us remember St. Ambrose and his feuds with Justina and young Valentinian. The struggle was equally lively both in Milan and in Constantinople, and the pious evening meeting of the Orthodox troops in the basilica of Porsenna can be compared with the same vigil of the Johannites in Byzantium. But the victory remained for St. Ambrose, and it is not difficult to understand why he achieved it, while St. John was defeated and expelled. St. Ambrose had much more than St. John, understanding of reality and the possible. His courage, no matter how great it was, was always deliberate and cold-blooded. He amazingly knew how to moderate his demands according to the success that one could firmly hope for. He defended himself courageously, but at the same time he knew that there were even more supporters for him than for St. Chrysostom. He also knew quite well that, although Justina, like Eudoxia, was an energetic and vindictive woman, however, the western court was in fact much weaker than the eastern. He was too prudent and too experienced to allow himself to become entangled in many matters at once. Finally, that terrible coalition of both spiritual and worldly hatred, under the weight of which the Archbishop of Constantinople was about to fall, was not directed against him. He stood at the head of a flock united only by consonant Catholics, while Byzantine society was disunited, and one party of clergy followed the bishops Severian and Theophilos. Roman St. Ambrose belonged to the politicians; honor of St. John of Antioch in that he burned with the zeal of the Apostles. The Apostolic Church is, indeed, the ideal to which St. John constantly strived, and which he partially realized quite well both in Syria and in Constantinople: the apostolic church is a collection of brothers united among themselves by bonds of love and through these same bonds of subordination - however, completely free submission - to a common father, the bishop. “Many things characterize Christianity, but the greatest and best thing is love and peace in relationships with everyone.” That is why he lovingly turned his gaze to the original Jerusalem church, to that happy family where the multitude had one heart and one soul. We will see that he did not look at the situation of this ideal society as a utopia, did not go into those too wise reflections that Fleury did in his book “on the morals of Christians,” namely, that “from a human point of view, it is difficult to imagine the existence of such a vast church without faithful contributions and income, and that the original church, as can be seen from the book of the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles of St. Paul, needed the help of other churches, so significant sums were sent from all provinces for the “saints” of Jerusalem.” St. John, on the contrary, in the words of Fleury himself, “did not even hesitate to offer this kind of life as an venerable example and means of converting the infidels.” The true originality of St. Chrysostom is that in that age when the greatest bishops were either primarily theologians, like St. Afanasy and Bl. Augustine, or politicians like St. Ambrose - he was a man of the apostolic times. Perhaps in this century we will not find a person truly inspired by the same traditions and the same spirit as St. Chrysostom, with the exception of one, is, however, much lower than John in his talent and knowledge, but close to him in heart. This man, who lived in a very remote province, among the most diverse nationalities, in Gaul, already upset by barbarian attacks - in Poitiers - is none other than St. Martin, about whom Sulpicius Severus could rightfully say that he led a truly apostolic life. In all eras, amid all kinds of changes, after the whole body of the Church already weakly reflects the image of the first times, some of the best people always represent the true tradition. In the 4th century, such people were Saints John and Martin, who stood in close connection. Now that we are familiar with the personality of St. Chrysostom, tried to penetrate into the depths of his character and spirit, saw in what environment he had to act under the influence of circumstances, and what kind of relationship was established between him and the faithful he governed - we can, without further delay, enter into the details of our study. Panegyric to Ignatius. If taken literally, this text could give rise to a contradiction, since Chrysostom is speaking here about the era of Ignatius. Praising the zeal with which the future martyr carried out his pastoral duties, he says that it was not an easy task to govern the church in that city where there were 200,000 souls. But since Chrysostom was far from being a professional historian and statistician, it is very likely that he calculates the urban population of the time of Ignatius according to the population of his time. However, this difficulty is eliminated by the agreement of this text with another, which we quote below. Throughout the East there was even such a custom that many preachers spoke one after another during one service. Westerners were sometimes surprised at this, as Sylvia's remarks about Jerusalem show: "Here there is a custom that from among the many presbyters who preside, those who wish preach, and after all of them the bishop speaks. These teachings always take place on the Lord's days (on Sundays) with the purpose that the people always learn about Scripture and the love of God. These sermons slow down the church service a lot."(Sylvia's Travels). Later we will return to the opinion of St. Chrysostom about modern miracles with great details Kurios was an official who belonged to the Metropolitan Police. He carried out investigations into crimes occurring in the city and brought them to the attention of the highest government. Note transl.