Беседа 17. На день святого мученика Варлаама (Spuria) 70

In former times, the death of saints was celebrated with lamentation and tears. Joseph “wept bitterly” about the death of Jacob (Gen. 50:1); The Jews complained a lot about the death of Moses (Deut. 34:8), and Samuel was honored with many tears (1 Sam. 25:1). And now we rejoice at the death of the saints, because the nature of the sorrowful has changed after the cross. We no longer weep when we accompany the death of the saints, but we rejoice in rapturous jubilation at their tombs; because death for the righteous is a dream, or rather, a departure to a better life. Therefore, the hardened martyrs rejoice; the desire for the most blessed life kills in them the feeling of illness at the slaughter. The martyr does not look at dangers, but at crowns; is not horrified by blows, but calculates rewards; he does not see the executioners scourging here on earth, but imagines Angels greeting from heaven; does not mean short-term dangers, but eternal rewards. And our martyrs are already reaping a bright guarantee of glory, because, resounding with enthusiastic greetings from everyone, they are catching thousands of people from their graves into their graves. This very thing has now been fulfilled over the courageous Varlaam. The martyr's trumpet sounded and, as you see, gathered the warriors of piety. The reclining ascetic of Christ was proclaimed and inspired the spectacle of the Church. And as the Lord of the faithful said: “Believe in Me, even if he dies, he will live” (John 11:25), so the courageous Barlaam died and convened solemn meetings; absorbed in the coffin, and invites him to a feast. Now is the time for us to exclaim: “Where is the wise man, where is the scribe, where is the questioner of this age?” (1 Cor. 1:20). Today we have an invincible teacher of piety in the villager, whom the tormentor attracted as an easy prey, but in whom, after testing, he recognized an insurmountable warrior, whom he laughed at for his incorrect speech, and who frightened him with angelic courage: for his morals did not become coarsened along with the instrument of speech, and his reason did not show in himself the same shortcomings that he had in syllables. But he became the second Paul, saying with Paul: “Even though he is ignorant in word, yet not in understanding” (2 Cor. 11:6). The executioners scourging him fell into a stupor, and the martyr found himself growing in strength; The hands of those who planed weakened, but the mind of the person being planed did not bow; the scourges tore apart the plexus of veins, but the strength of faith became more indestructible; the flesh on the tormented sides disappeared, but the wisdom of the mind blossomed; Most of the flesh was dead, but the martyr was as cheerful as one who had not yet begun his exploits. When the love of piety settles in the soul, then all types of abuse are ridiculous for it, and all those tormenting it for its favorite object delight rather than amaze. My witness to this is the love of the Apostles, which once made the scourges of the Jews pleasant for them. For it is said: “I went rejoicing on behalf of the council, because for His name I was deemed worthy to receive dishonor” (Acts 5:41). Such is the warrior we now glorify. He attributed the torment to himself as joy; the scourged man thought that they were throwing roses at him; he avoided the shadows of wickedness like arrows, and considered the wrath of a judge to be the shadow of smoke; laughed at the ferocious orders of the spearmen; walked among dangers, as among wreaths; enjoyed beatings as if they were honors; he rejoiced at the most severe torments as if at the most brilliant rewards; despised drawn swords; with the same feeling he accepted the hands of the executioners, as if they were softer than wax; kissed the tree of execution as if it were saving; he enjoyed prison closures as if he were meadows; I enjoyed the newly invented torments like a variety of flowers. His right hand was stronger than the fire that his enemies used against him as a last resort. For, having laid fire on the altar for a libation offering to the demons, they brought and placed the martyr before him, and commanding him to hold his right hand outstretched over the altar, they used it instead of a copper altar, villainously placing burning incense on it. They hoped that the hand, overcome by the power of fire, would soon, of necessity, lay incense on the altar. Alas, what a cunning deception of the wicked! “Since,” they say, “a thousand wounds did not shake his will, we will shake even the hand of a stubborn fighter with flame. Since we did not shake his soul with various means, we will shock at least his right hand, acting on it with fire.” But these pathetic people did not take advantage of this hope. For, although the flame burned the hand, the hand continued to hold the flame on itself like ashes; she did not turn her back, like fugitives, to hostile fire; but she invariably held on, valiantly fighting the flames, and gave the martyr the opportunity to say in the words of the prophet: “Blessed is the Lord my God, teach my hands to fight, my fingers to fight” (Ps. 143:1). The fire entered into battle with the hand, and defeat was on the side of the fire. A struggle ensued between the flame and the right hand of the martyr, and the hand won some kind of victory unprecedented in the struggle; although the flame penetrated through the hand, the hand was still outstretched to fight. Truly, this is a hand that surpasses fire in tenacity! A hand that has not learned to yield to fire! Fire, taught to suffer defeat by hand! Iron yields to fire, softened by its tormenting power. Copper does not resist his rule. The hardness of stones is overcome by fire. But the all-overcoming power of fire, burning the outstretched hand of the martyr, did not shake it! Rightly, the martyr could exclaim at this point to the Lord: “Thou hast restrained my hand on my right hand, and with Thy counsel thou hast instructed me, and thou hast received me with glory” (Ps. 72:23-24). What shall I call you, good warrior of Christ? Shall I call it a statue? But I will humiliate your patience a lot. The fire, having taken upon itself the statue, softens it; but I didn’t convince your right hand to show movement. Shall I call you iron? But I find that this image is beneath your courage. You alone convinced the flame not to do violence to your hand; you alone had a hand on the altar. You alone smote the faces of demons with your flaming right hand, and then with your hand turned to coal you struck down their heads, and now with your right hand turned to ashes you trample and blind their hordes. But why do I humiliate a good ascetic with childish talk? Let us give way to the language of the most majestic in honor of his song; Let us call upon the loudest trumpets of the teachers. Rise now before me, you glorious painters of ascetic merits! Add your art to this incomplete image of the military leader! With the flowers of your wisdom, illuminate the crown-bearer whom I vaguely represented! Let me be overcome by your depiction of the valiant deeds of the martyr; I will be glad to recognize such a victory of your fortress over myself now. Let me look at this more accurately depicted struggle of your hand with fire. I’ll look at this wrestler, more lively than the one depicted in your picture. Let the demons weep, even now struck down among you by the valor of the martyr! Again let the burning and conquering hand be shown to them! May the hero of struggles, Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever, be depicted in the picture! Amen. The memory of this holy martyr is celebrated by the Church on the 19th day of November. 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