Книга восьмая (405–412 гг.)

Cruel winter in Taurus; Chrysostom's sufferings. – Robberies of the Isaurians in the vicinity of Kukuz; Chrysostom escapes in the Aravis fortress. - Serious illness. “He learns about Arzas’s persecution of his friends. - His letter to Pope Innocent. – Honorius’s efforts to induce his brother to the consciousness of a new Council. – Five Western bishops sent to Constantinople were stopped and imprisoned in a fortress. The letters entrusted to them are taken away by force. - The bishops were sent to Italy. – The persecution of the Johannites by Atticus intensifies. - Chrysostom was transferred to the Aravis fortress. – His last letter to the Olympics. – The saint is exiled to Pythiunt. - The vile cruelty of his convoy - Arrival in Comana, death of the saint. - Death of Emperor Arcadius. - Epistle of Theophilus against Chrysostom. - Death of Theophilus. Death of Porphyry of Antioch. - Alexander succeeds him; he wants to restore the name of Chrysostom in the diptychs. – Atticus makes excuses before Cyril, the new Patriarch of Alexandria. – Transfer of the relics of Chrysostom to Constantinople under Theodosius II. – The last years of Olympiad’s life; her demise. The winter of 405 almost became disastrous for Chrysostom, but nevertheless it was a moderate winter for this harsh climate. She made herself known with incredible cruelty. From mid-autumn, everything was covered with snow: mountains and valleys, and the whole country was, as it were, buried under a vast shroud. Every resident remained pinned to the house to avoid the freezing wind. This first “siege” was followed by a second, even more restless and dangerous - the siege of the city by the Isaurians, whose gangs appeared on the plain at first in small groups, then more numerous and strong. Summer houses were plundered, manors were burned, cattle were taken away, and it was impossible to go any distance from the city for any business without exposing yourself to the danger of being robbed or killed. One noble Cucuza citizen was killed in self-defense, and two noble women, probably captured in their villas, were taken out of town and handed over only for ransom. The surrounding population flocked from all sides in search of refuge in the city, whose food supplies were small, so famine did not take long to begin. Meanwhile, rumors reached that the predators, reinforced by gangs that had descended from the mountains, were preparing for a surprise attack on Kukuz, whose garrison, quite numerous and well-armed, was ready for courageous resistance. These preparations brought unspeakable horror to the city, because everyone knew that wherever these barbarians attacked (as they were called as residents outside the Roman Empire), they did not give any mercy and massacred everyone - from an old man to an infant. Many residents took advantage of the darkness of the night to hide in the forests with their families and some supplies, hoping from there to somehow get to more distant villages or cities. Chrysostom was among them and disappeared into the forest, the closest one, with his few household members, in all likelihood - a minister, the priest Evetius, his faithful companion, an old relative, the deaconess Sabiniana, and with beasts of burden. He spent many days wandering through the snow from forest to forest, resting on rocks and sleeping in caves. Every day he changed his place, depending on the rumors that reached him. Finally, he decided, despite the great distance, to seek refuge in the city of Aravissa, whose bishop he was familiar with and where numerous crowds of fugitives were heading; he followed them. If Kukuz hardly deserved the name of a city, then Aravissa, located about ninety kilometers in the mountains, did not deserve such a title at all, although it bore it and had a bishop, who was needed there due to the disunity of this place. It was a village protected by its location; a fortress towered over it, reputedly impregnable and serving as a place of refuge for the surrounding area. Although the Isaurians had not yet appeared in this area, the garrison awaited them with the determination and vigilance of a true defender of the population. Between Chrysostom and the local bishop Otreus, a venerable and respected man, at one time a good relationship was formed (regarding the sending of the relics from Aravissa to Phenicia). The newcomer was received with open arms. The commander wished him to stay at the fortress because the city, according to him, was not safe in case of attack. So, Chrysostom stayed in the castle, where he would have been very happy if the refugees, who were constantly arriving again and in need of some kind of accommodation, had not limited his own accommodation to several cramped rooms. It is difficult to imagine anything sadder than the jagged Aravis rock, except perhaps the extremely cramped dungeon that crowned it. Due to the constant influx of refugees, Chrysostom had to give up walks in the clean air, which usually occupied a significant part of his leisure time. But his gaze could unhinderedly extend over the entire country, which from top to bottom represented nothing but a boundless snow cover, both on the mountains and in the valleys, and his eye did not see a tree or the slightest hint of vegetation in the sky. Meanwhile, refugees from neighboring towns continued to arrive; they no longer knew how to place them, much less how to feed them. They brought with them hunger, and then infection that followed on their heels. Everyone was expecting the third scourge - the Isaurians, who were not slow to appear. If in Kukuza Chrysostom suffered severely from the cold, then the Aravis cold almost killed him. Forced to shut himself in his room, shivering from the cold in the midst of the smoke from which he was suffocating, Chrysostom became seriously ill, and one attack followed another. All the doctors, no matter how many there were in this place (and the saint assures that there were good ones among them), fussed around him to bring him relief, but what could the doctors do when there was no medicine? The Isaurians, who finally penetrated this area, devastated everything. It was impossible to obtain the simplest and most necessary things for the patient. Soon, some of the residents even preferred to go seek refuge elsewhere rather than die of hunger within the walls, which could not be protected by weakened arms. The same eviction from Aravissa began as before from Kukuz. The Isaurians now occupied the entire surrounding area, and leaving was as dangerous as staying. Robberies, fires, and massacres advanced along with the predators and reached the city walls. From the heights of his fortress, as from an observatory, the exile could see this sad spectacle, and he conveys it on the eloquent pages of his letters. “No one,” the saint writes to one of his friends, “in this devastated country dares to stay at home, everyone leaves their homes and runs at random. In cities, only walls and roofs remain, and forests and gorges have become cities, and, just as wild animals, leopards or lions, consider themselves safer in deserts than in populated areas, so we, the inhabitants of Armenia, are forced to run from one place to another, leading the life of gamaxobs and nomads, without hope of finding a settled place for ourselves. There is confusion and anxiety everywhere. Some slaughter, burn, and seize free people into slavery, while others, with the mere rumor of their approach, drive out the inhabitants and doom them to homeless wandering, which often means death. And in fact, recently young people had to flee hastily at midnight, into the bitter cold, fleeing from the Isaurians as if from the flame of a fire; it did not even take the swords of the barbarians for them to say goodbye to life - they died, freezing in the snow or covered with it. Thus, fleeing from the death that threatened them, they fled to certain death. This is our common fate." Elsewhere in his letters, he writes: “The cities of this district of Armenia turn into deserts, and the forests into wandering cities, constantly changing their places, because the wandering settlement does not know where to stop... Wherever you look, everywhere you see streams of blood, destroyed houses, devastated villages.” He himself almost became a victim of a sad incident. A whole horde of Isaurians attacked Aravissa by surprise at night and were already climbing the fortress when the garrison came running, overthrew and drove them away. Overcome by fever, Chrysostom was sleeping at that time, they were careful not to wake him up, and only the next morning he learned that he had almost died and how he had escaped. In this poor country the robbery could not last long, and the predators soon put an end to it. Then they rushed to other cities and fortified castles with the same attempts, and around Aravissa the spectacle of horror and war was replaced by a spectacle of absolute desert, perhaps even more sad. It was not snow that now covered the roads, but ice barriers that blocked them. No visitors, no possibility of sending letters. “Nothing reaches here, nothing penetrates from here,” the exile wrote to one of his friends. And yet, despite so many obstacles from nature and people, he was happy to visit two brave souls. They were Deacon Theodotus from Antioch, one of his old friends, and a new acquaintance, another Theodotus, a reader of the same church, barely out of adolescence. The story of this young man is, of course, quite ordinary for the Roman Empire of the 5th century. Young Theodotus belonged to the highest circle, he was the son of a consular who ruled Syria as prefect. The father, who destined his son, like himself, for public positions, was, of course, annoyed to see that he abandoned secular sciences in order to devote himself to serving the Church, and great coldness and quarrel arose between them. Young Theodotus, having become a reader, to the great chagrin of his father, did not even limit himself to this new position, finding it too worldly and surrounded by entertainment. His ardent imagination attracted him to what, in the mystical language of that time, was called “true philosophy,” i.e. to monasticism, and he considered it a blessing to receive the first teachings about it from the lips of the famous Chrysostom. And so he asked his father for permission to go to Armenia in order to place himself at the disposal of the great exile, who himself was a monk and wrote such beautiful works about desert life. The consular, without a doubt, suspected that his son was going crazy; he tried to dissuade him from both the “false calling” and the journey, but then, tired of the argument, he allowed him to go to Chrysostom with gifts. Deacon Theodotus was preparing to leave at this time; This circumstance, in all likelihood, turned the young reader’s head. Both set off and, after a painful and dangerous journey, arrived in Aravissa, where, as they learned on the way, they had to look for Chrysostom. Chrysostom, apparently, was not very pleased with the arrival of the young reader, and he did not hide this either from himself or from the deacon, his companion. The position of Armenia, constantly armed, constantly under threat of raids, was not at all conducive to quiet pursuits leading to monastic life; As for the exile himself, hiding now in one place, now in another, sick, constantly wandering, then what benefit could he have in preparing for such a calling? In addition, the young man was weakly built and his eyes hurt. Chrysostom reasoned that the harsh climate of Armenia was not consistent with the general state of his health, especially with his eyes, and that a winter like the one they were experiencing then would have carried away the young man, despite all efforts. So, he advised him to return to Syria as soon as the roads became more comfortable for driving, and handed him over to the deacon, who instructed him to take care of him on the way and return him to his father. At the same time, the saint handed him a letter to the consular, where in the most polite terms he apologized for sending back his gifts. “This would mean,” he wrote, “to accept what I need least of all. With great pleasure I would keep the dear reader Theodotus with me and take up his education, but everything here breathes murder, confusion, bloodshed and fires. I myself often change my location and don’t know where to lay my head.” In cautious terms, he invites him to react favorably to the calling of his son instead of opposing it, and advises him to turn to the most pious deacon Theodotus for his guidance. He does not mention the quarrel between father and son. His son’s confessions touched Chrysostom’s heart, and he retained the most tender memories of the young reader. Later, in his letters to the young Theodotus, he mentions the grief that the young man encountered upon returning to his family, the harmful influences exerted by some people on his father’s attitude towards him, however, he confirms his idea of ​​​​accepting monasticism, finding this thought wise. “If someone begins to intrigue you and do evil,” wrote Chrysostom, “be above these arrows, especially since the true victim is not the one who suffers evil, but the one who does it. As for me, I am surprised; your firmness aroused my approval: having been subjected to such terrible torments, you remained the winner of the confusion of spirit that resulted from them... The great and high way of life, the goal of which is Heaven, seems difficult, taking into account the type of trials with which it is filled: but with the courage and ardor of those who follow it, it becomes very easy. And what is especially surprising... a zealous and sincere follower of such wisdom, despite the angry sea, makes his voyage quietly and safely. In the midst of danger and torment, he tastes complete calm; despite the arrows that rush at him from all sides, he remains unharmed; he, of course, receives blows, but is never wounded.” Perhaps Chrysostom would have reproached himself for encouraging his son, in defiance of his father, to become a monk, if this could have caused great disagreement in the family, but at the same time he tried to bring them closer to each other, still supporting a decision that seemed to him to be in agreement with the will of God. And he succeeded in his intention - the father finally gave in, and the son became a monk. As soon as the area was freed from predators and the roads became at least somewhat passable, Chrysostom returned to Kukuz with his household, “and its desert,” as he called this city, “seemed like paradise to him in comparison with the Aravis desert.” He could welcome the first radiance of spring, which revived him along with nature and returned to him absent friends, which was more important to him than his health itself. “Spring has finally returned,” he wrote to Marinian in a burst of joy, “most mortals at this fertile time of year rejoice at the flowers that decorate the earth and the greenery that dresses it; but it is also pleasant and dear to me because it allows me to talk from afar with those dear to my heart... I am sure that when spring comes, the sailor and oarsmen cut through the ridges of the waves with no more pleasure than I take up pen, paper and ink to write to you. During the winter, when everything was petrified from the effects of the cold, and unimaginable mounds of snow blocked the roads, locked in a cell, deprived of a secretary, with my tongue as if bound in chains, I was silent, and silent for a long time, contrary to my desire; but upon the return of spring, which opens roads for us, the fetters on my tongue also fall away.” However, the accumulated news that spring brought him were not all joyful, and to some of them he would have preferred the “storm of the Isaurians.” Old untruths in Constantinople were replaced by new ones under the hand of a new impostor who took the place of Arsas, and the drowsy leader of the party was succeeded by an ambitious man, suspicious, always on guard, under his miter impatiently thirsting for power, a persecutor both by temperament and insatiable pride. The triumvirate of patriarchs, directed by Atticus, who stood at its head, now acted throughout the entire Eastern Church with terrifying unanimity. Every day he forced the Emperor to take some new measure against those who disagreed with him, and as a result, some cruel addition to the decrees issued before came out. Thus, huge fines were imposed on those who would provide their home for unauthorized meetings; To this they added the confiscation of the house itself into the treasury. According to the denunciation of the patriarchs, persons invested with dignity were deprived of their honors, as disobedient and rebels, for refusing to enter into communion with those whom the will of the Emperor invested with power over all the Churches. Some court officials, apparently considered too indifferent to the triumvirate, were removed from their posts, and the officers of the army, for the same reasons, were deprived of the belt that served as the sign of their rank; many ordinary citizens were sent into exile. Paenius, a friend of Chrysostom, fell under this persecution, despite the respect that he always evoked from the Emperor, and despite the restraint of character and prudence that he used to patronize his friend. When such high dignitaries were thus exposed to the malice of the triumvirs, what could the clerics expect? The most severe blow was dealt to the Church of Constantinople. Philip, the priest of the schools of the archiepiscopal church, who for his strict and solitary life was nicknamed a hermit and who, limiting himself to his modest duties, had hitherto been able to escape persecution - either because he was forgotten or because he was respected - now saw his very life in danger from Atticus and with great difficulty escaped in Campania, where he fell seriously ill. Another Philip, from the same church, was sent to Pontus and died there. Helladius, the priest of the imperial palace church, was exiled to Bithynia, the priest Salustius was taken to Crete, the assistant steward of the episcopal palace Paul was driven to Africa, the priest Stephen, exiled to Arabia, was taken by Isaurian robbers to Taurus... Women were treated in the same way as state criminals: they were imprisoned, tortured, expelled, and their monasteries were abolished. Such was the news that awaited Chrysostom upon his return from Aravissa. These cruelties, however, met, especially in Constantinople, opposition among the laity. Tyranny, when it touches freedom of conscience, always gives rise to courageous resistance. Many secular people, who had hitherto been indifferent and who, apparently, were not consumed by the jealousy of the religious struggle, finally became indignant at the ways in which the Johannites were now being admonished and sympathized with them. This noble indignation drew them into secret meetings, they were not afraid of soldiers and judges, and they became Johannites. Letters received by John Chrysostom gave details of these random conversions caused by persecution. Such honorable deeds even gave him the idea of ​​later writing a book about these voluntary fighters, people whose courage and indignation made them almost saints and whom he, without hesitation, called martyrs. “It is impossible,” says the saint on this occasion, “to refuse to name martyrs to people who not only resisted insults, insults, slander, which in itself already has a price, but who look straight into the face of terrible threats, and even torture, the power of the Emperor and an angry judge - those who are better prepared to endure possible persecution than to enter into communication with villains who commit one crime after another. Who would refuse to name martyrs to people who, with their torment, imprint the teachings of the Church, who console this Holy Mother, who weeps over the sins of the weak, who renounce her, despite all their numbers? One person who does the will of God is worth more than ten thousand who violate it.” He adds, as if to encourage the believers, the following wonderful words: “If the bishop is not among his flock to lead them, let the sheep themselves take on the duties of a shepherd. The timid, who plead their weakness and avoid meetings, betray the duty of faith. Did Daniel and the Jewish captives in Babylon need an altar, a church, and a high priest to carry out the law?” Such speeches, coming from the Kukuz desert to the forests and mountains of Thrace, to the secret refuges where the Johannites gathered, were supposed to warm their hearts and kindle a new flame of animation and fidelity. Among the news, of course, very important in his case, there was one, in this regard, extremely important, because it gave the last hope for justice: Chrysostom was informed that in the West the convening of the Ecumenical Council had finally been decided, that in view of this, a deputation would be sent by Emperor Honorius and the Italian Churches to Emperor Arcadius in Constantinople, and that the place of the upcoming Council was appointed Thessalonica. Those Western bishops and Roman priests who were to be part of the embassy were even designated; according to the same news, they were supposed to leave soon. This was very important news for Chrysostom, who, since his departure into exile, had heard nothing more about what was happening regarding his issue in Rome and in the West in general. He felt that not a minute should be lost in order to win over his Constantinople friends to receive a good reception from the Western Embassy, ​​to warn the ambassadors against the machinations of schismatics, and to expose to them in all respects the real position of the Church. But it was not enough to prepare the matter in Constantinople; it was also necessary to organize everything in Thessalonica, Macedonia, even in Achaia, so that the ambassadors would not be deceived and led astray. He hastened to write to Bishop Anisius of Thessalonica and all ten bishops of Macedon, then to the archbishops of Corinth and Achaea. In a letter to Anisius, meek and full of caution and dignity, he barely mentions himself, but thanks him for the strong courage he showed under the circumstances, and asks for the continuation of his good offices. “Do not give up on the matter,” writes Chrysostom, “tirelessly do what you consider useful for serving God; you are well aware of the great significance of the cause for which you have undertaken this wonderful struggle, and the crowns that the merciful Lord has prepared for those who work to restore universal peace.” To the other bishops of Macedon, whom he calls Orthodox, because they held firm in their communication with him. Chrysostom sends similar thanks, saying that their zeal for maintaining the Church will bring him to the desert the most precious consolation of all. He reminds the Bishop of Corinth that they once knew each other and that he would be happy if he could resume friendly relations if he had not been thrown to the ends of the world by so many storms. Now it was necessary to find an intrepid and intelligent messenger who would not only carry the letters, but would add to them any verbal explanations that might be needed - a man of proven firmness, who would not allow himself to be intimidated or deceived. And he chose the priest Evetius, who lived with him since his departure from Caesarea. The exile greatly needed his presence, but the importance of the matter did not allow for doubt. It was necessary to separate, at least for a while: Evetius, having handed over the letters, had to bring back the answers and give him a report on what he learned and saw there. Evetius immediately accepted this dangerous assignment and set off. Since the Peloponnese and Epirus, where Evetius went, were on the threshold of northern Italy, Chrysostom instructed him, among other things, to forward two letters of gratitude, one to Venerius of Milan, the other to Chromatius of Aquileia. As for the Roman Archbishop Innocent, Chrysostom considered it more appropriate to send him a letter directly to Italy, in view of the special zeal he showed for his cause. With this letter he sent two clerics who had been brought to Kukuz for some reason - priest John and deacon Paul. The importance and exceptional nature of this letter require that we quote quite large extracts from it. "Innocent, Bishop of Rome, John - rejoice in the Lord. Each of us is attached by body to some place, but with the wings of love we can freely fly around the Universe. So we, although separated from you by an immeasurable distance, are nevertheless close to your Bliss. Every day, with the eyes of love, we see your spiritual courage, the sincerity of your disposition, your unshakable constancy and the great, continuous and inexhaustible consolation that you never cease to pour out on us. The higher the waves rise, the more exposed the underwater rock is, the stronger the wind blows, the more your vigilance increases. Neither the vastness of distances, nor the length of time, nor the increasing difficult set of circumstances could weaken your zeal - you are tireless, like helmsmen who are most vigilant when drowning threatens... This is what fills me with gratitude, and this is why we would like to write to you often, finding in this the greatest relief for our suffering, but, unfortunately, the solitude of the desert does not allow us to do this, because only with great difficulty can not only visitors from afar, but even neighbors living near us, get here. The place where we live lies at the end of the world, and moreover, robbers keep it under siege. Forgive us, we ask you, for our long silence, which does not come from negligence or oblivion - and therefore have pity on us, but do not blame us. In an extreme case, our justification can be the sending to you, after such a long silence of ours, of our dear and respected brothers - Presbyter John and Deacon Paul, whom chance placed at our disposal and thus gave us the opportunity to write you this letter, for we felt the need to express how full of gratitude our heart is for your disposition, truly fatherly. What was in the power of your Beatitude, everything was done, it did not depend on him that things did not return to their previous order and that peace did not establish in the Churches, where justice is brazenly trampled upon and the decrees of our fathers are violated. But since none of your desires could yet be fulfilled, and the lawless people add new ones to their previous iniquities (I will not go into the details of their deeds, which would exceed the limits of not only writing, but also history), then I ask your vigilant soul that even if the perpetrators of our troubles were possessed by an incurable disease and turned out to be incapable of even repentance, still do not reject your saving healings and give in to this evil... The work you have undertaken is a struggle for the whole world, for defeated and trampled Churches, scattered flocks, for clergy given over to countless torments, for expelled bishops... As for us, we have been living in exile for three years now, in the extreme barbaric limits; doomed to hunger, pestilence, war, constant sieges, unimaginable alienation, death threatening daily from the swords of the Isaurians - and among so many disasters, we are supported only by the hope of your constant and unrelenting love for us. She is a refuge that protects us from enemies, a pier that shelters us from angry waves, an inexhaustible treasury of joys among so many evils that crush us. This thought beautifies the desert from which we write to you, and if we were again driven into a place even more deserted, we would depart from here, taking with us this great consolation in our suffering.” Having handed over this letter to the faithful envoys, Chrysostom added to them letters of recommendation to three noble Roman matrons, to Proba Fultonia, of the illustrious Anitian family, to Juliana, her daughter-in-law, and to Italica, to whom he especially sent the following letter: “In all other respects, both in nature and in activity, there is a difference between the sexes: male and female. By custom, women are given domestic activities, men are given activities outside the home, business and meetings in the forum; but in exploits for the sake of God, in battles for the sake of the Church, the difference between the sexes disappears; it even often happens that a woman exceeds a man in courage in struggle and perseverance in tedious labors of this kind. Saint Paul says the same thing in his letter to your native city, when he showers praise on many women, testifying that they have contributed greatly to the conversion of their husbands. You may ask where I am going with this speech. I am inclining her to this, so that you do not consider zeal and labors aimed at the good of the faithful alien to your sex, but so that you use all your cares and efforts, both yourself and through the persons whose services you have, to tame the general unrest and confusion that has befallen our Churches. This is the activity, the diligent care that I expect from you, for the fiercer the storm, the more abundant will be the reward for your contribution to peace.” If the condemnation of the Archbishop of Constantinople by two Councils and his appeal to the Western Church deeply agitated this Church, how much more was this agitation when they learned of his cruel expulsion, despite the appeal, of the fire in the Church of Hagia Sophia and of the criminal investigation erected against him? The notice, full of slander, sent to Rome by Acacius and signed by this bishop and his accomplices, the notice where Chrysostom was named as the culprit of the fire, at first greatly embarrassed Pope Innocent: after all, bishops wrote, bishops who vouched for the fairness of the message - and the Roman Archbishop decided to wait for new clarifications before furthering his intention to convene an Ecumenical Council. Explanations poured in from all sides. First of all, a letter arrived from the Archbishop of Thessaloniki, testifying, in agreement with all the bishops of Macedonia and Achaia, the innocence of the accused; then a multitude of visitors, both lay and clergy of all degrees, arrived from the eastern archbishopric with many letters and documents of indisputable authenticity. Palladius of Hellenopolis, who escaped the hands of schismatic tormentors, announced an imperial decree ordering the confiscation of houses in which a bishop or clergyman from the Johannites would find himself. Priest Herman and Deacon Cassian, the same ones who, the day after the destruction of the Church of Hagia Sophia, demanded from the judges an inventory of the items found in the sacristy of Chrysostom - utensils, holy vessels, precious jewelry, showed a certified copy of this inventory, from which it was clear both the undoubted slander of those who accused the archbishop of stealing church treasures, and criminal gullibility Council that made this accusation. One letter from the clergy who remained faithful to the archbishop, where the picture of the disasters of their Church and other Churches of the East was drawn with extraordinary force, touched Innocent to tears: he reread it several times and cried. This letter exposed Theophilus, directly identifying him as the soul of all unrest and the instigator of all baseness in the community with Severian and Acacius. But the matter did not end there, and the indignation of the Romans no longer had limits when they learned about the investigation of Olympias, Pentadia and other deaconesses and when they had in their hands the protocol of the interrogation of the prefect, an official document, which was obtained by two visitors from Constantinople, Domitian and Vallagas. Soon the persecuted themselves appeared: girls, mutilated monks who walked from house to house, revealing signs of torture and the scars of their wounds. People came running from all sides to look at them; they were received especially in patrician houses where they professed the Christian faith. Palladius found hospitality with two wealthy Romans - Pinian and young Melania, famous in history for their friendship with St. Jerome and St. Augustine. They also point out the mother of the maiden Demetrias, Juliana, who housed, fed and clothed an entire population of visitors for several months. From then on, doubt disappeared, and the need for an Ecumenical Council was clearly presented. Obviously, this was the only remedy against the evil that further and further spread throughout the East. Innocent's first act was to reject communication with the schismatic bishop of Constantinople and with other impostors in Asia, leaving completely unanswered their letters in which they informed him of their bishopric; His second task was to come to an agreement with Emperor Honorius regarding the preliminary articles of the Council. The emperor then returned to Ravenna, and the pope, who lived in Rome, sent several of his priests to him to explain to him the measures that would be useful to take. Honorius showed himself to be generally disposed to the plans of Innocent, in addition, he hoped to eliminate the difficulties himself and restore peace without the Council by letter to his brother, hoping with his influence alone to induce Arcadius to return Chrysostom and to restore the Orthodox clergy of the East. Perhaps he would have succeeded in this, but Honorius, who never missed an opportunity to express his opinion about the Empress Eudoxia, now completely did not spare her, attacking her insane vanity, on which he placed the entire burden of responsibility for all the troubles. This time Arkady did as always: he stood up for his wife and left his brother’s letter unanswered. The offended Honorius, returning to the assumptions of Innocent, decided that this important matter should be given its due significance by solemn negotiations between Emperor and Emperor and state with state, and not with private letters full of ridicule of the woman. At the same time, in order to give even more maturity to his decision, he wished that the meeting of Italian bishops would first determine the subject and conditions of the future Council with some kind of program that would be presented to the Eastern government. He also wished that not only the Bishop of Rome should write to the Eastern Emperor and the Church of Constantinople, but that other Western bishops would add their letters to his letter, perhaps in order to show the East that the Western Church, represented by its most noble bishops, all goes hand in hand with him in a matter in which one should not see rivalry between the Roman and Constantinople churches. The bishops of Italy, in agreement with the wishes of the Sovereign, met to draw up a program for the upcoming Ecumenical Council and decided the following: 1) The Council will sit in Thessalonica, a city, so to speak, midway between two empires, because, belonging to the eastern political dominions, it remained, like all of European Greece, religiously part of the Western Church. Its geographical position provided, moreover, great convenience for the assembly of bishops from both half of the Roman world. 2) It will be accepted that everything that happened after the Council in Oak has no significance; that, therefore, John Chrysostom did not cease to be the legitimate Archbishop of Constantinople, that because of this he should be returned to his Church and should appear at the Council in this capacity, so that there would be no need to pronounce a sentence in absentia for the third time. 3) Since Archbishop John will appear as an accused, Theophilus, Patriarch of Alexandria, will also be obliged to appear, so that both sides can be heard. This was the main program. Although history is silent, this program probably contained the opinion already expressed by Pope Innocent, namely, that bishops who spoke and acted at both previous Councils for or against the archbishop in a biased manner will not be allowed to participate in the upcoming Council at all, so that the new Council, as far as possible, will be alien to previous passions and previously drawn up parties. When, therefore, the program was drawn up by agreement between the Italian Churches and the Emperor of the Western Empire, they began to draw up an embassy that would take it to the Eastern Emperor. The embassy included five bishops distinguished by their personal merits: Emilius of Beneventum, Cythegius, whose throne is not designated, Gaudentius of Brixian, Marian, bishop of one of the provinces of Apulia, and a fifth, whom history does not name. The pope wished to add two priests of the Roman Church to them: Valentinian and Boniface (probably the same one who succeeded Pope Zosima), and also gave them one deacon as a companion. It was considered necessary, moreover, to send with the same embassy some of the eastern bishops who had found refuge in Rome, so that they would give the Western deputies the necessary instructions about the people and explanations of everything that would be new to them in the East, and also in order to facilitate the return of these unfortunates to their fatherland. In total, there were three official letters that were presented to the embassy: one from Emperor Honorius to his brother, another from Innocent also to the Sovereign of the Eastern Empire, and the third, written at the request of Honorius by Chromatius of Aquileia, who had great influence on the other side of the sea. The Emperor's letter contained the following: “I have already written twice to your Mercy, asking you to correct and bring to a better state the affairs that were the result of a conspiracy against John Chrysostom, but a satisfactory solution, which has not yet been achieved. Filled with concerns about the church world, in which our empire will find peace, I am writing to you for the third time, through the mediation of these bishops and priests, so that you deign to order the Eastern bishops to gather at the Ecumenical Council in Thessalonica... Our Western bishops, having elected people who are strong in the fight against evil and lies, are sending to you, in order to ask your Meekness for a letter to convene this Council, five bishops, two priests and one deacon of the great Roman Church... Deign, I ask you, to receive them with all the honors due to them, so that if they returned convinced of the legality of John’s expulsion, they would teach me to break off communication with him. If, on the contrary, they came to the conviction of the evil intentions of the Eastern bishops, then they should try to turn you away from all communication with these wicked people... Intending to show you clearly what the opinion of the Western Churches is on Archbishop John, I select from the many letters I received on this matter the letters of the Bishop of Rome and Aquileia. First of all, I beg your Mercy to order Theophilus of Alexandria, who is pointed out as the culprit of all evils, to be present at the Council, even against his wishes. Let these ways of the Council, which we request, really help restore the peace that is necessary in our times.” At first they planned to send the embassy by land, through the Julian Alps and Macedonia, to Thessalonica - for a conference with Bishop Anisius, before carrying on the matter further and presenting themselves to the Emperor. Honorius had already ordered that letters of protection be presented to the ambassadors, when suddenly there were reasons to fear that the ambassadors might be detained on the way, even, perhaps, imprisoned by the eastern authorities. This fear prompted the cancellation of the journey by land. They hired a ship to sail from Thessalonica to Constantinople; they had to wait for the time of year favorable for sailing in these dangerous places, as a result of which the embassy lost precious time. Finally, it set off - at the end of March or at the beginning of April 406, before the news of the death of the impostor patriarch Arsas and his replacement by Atticus reached Italy. The ship, following this order, went out into the Adriatic Sea to the Tenar Cape and, having passed the Cyclades, freely entered the waters of Attica. On the ship, in addition to the bishops and clergy who were part of the Western embassy, ​​there were also four fugitive Eastern bishops who were allowed to join them: Cyriacus, Demetrius, Eulysius and Palladius. When the embassy sailed along the Gulf of Athens, a tribune appeared to it and forbade further sailing; this official brought with him two other ships, small and simple in appearance, for the ambassadors, while the ship was worthy of its purpose and, in all likelihood, was decorated with the signs of the Western Empire. Those sailing were ordered to transfer from the ship to these ships brought by him, dividing into two parties, and the imperial ship was solemnly escorted to the Athenian harbor by the tribune as a spoil of war. The transfer took place on the open sea and in such haste that they even forgot to take food. The embassy, ​​accompanied by several soldiers, sailed straight to Constantinople, where it arrived three days later, but during these three days the ambassadors and their companions suffered severely from hunger. It was midday as they approached the capital. After visiting the customs, they sailed to the pier opposite the outskirts of Victor, but the same thing awaited them there as in the Athens harbor. By the highest command they were forbidden to go ashore. When they asked whose order it was, who dared to stop the embassy and what it all meant, the centurion, without saying a word, ordered both ships to be turned back into the open sea and the ambassadors to land under the walls of the Atira fortress on the Thracian coast. The order came from Arkady himself, whom Chrysostom’s enemies had infuriated by repeating in all sorts of ways, ever since the question of the Council arose, that both this demand of the Council and the embassy carrying it were an insult to his autocracy. “Why does the most august monarch of the West interfere in the affairs of the East, which do not concern him at all, while the monarch of the East conscientiously respects his brother in the West? Honorius, by such an action, violates his duties as a co-ruler, and the eastern bishops, who, due to personal feuds, try to quarrel both brothers and both empires, are simply conspirators and traitors.” These speeches stuck in Arkady’s head, and he decided to break with his brother. The Atira fortification was at the same time a prison for state criminals. The ambassadors and their companions were locked there, again divided into two parties: the Roman ambassadors, priests and deacons were placed in one room, while the eastern bishops, placed alone in cramped closets, were left without ministers for their needs. One expression of historical evidence even gives rise to the assumption that they were chained. Both of them asked themselves what fate awaited them, when suddenly the ambassadors saw the notary of the imperial palace Patricius entering them, the same one who announced the sentence of exile to Chrysostom. He was accompanied by several civilian and military officials. In response to the statement that they were carrying letters from Emperor Honorius, Patricius demanded that the letters be handed over to him. “We cannot fulfill this,” they answered firmly, “because we are ambassadors and it is our duty to transfer these letters from our Sovereign and our bishops into the own hands of the Sovereign to whom they are addressed.” No matter how Patrick insisted, he received nothing. Others appeared and renewed the same attempt - the answer remained the same. The noble firmness of the ambassadors stopped them until a certain Valerian from Cappadocia, tribune of the military cohort, decided to obtain these papers at any cost. Having heard the same refusal, he rushed at Bishop Marian, who held the letters to the Emperor in his hand, and tore them out, but not before breaking his thumb. The next day, representatives of the court came to prison, offering the ambassadors three thousand ducats if they agreed to enter into communication with the impostor, the successor of Archbishop John, and “hush up the matter” about his accusation. The trap was skillful: now they had come up with the idea of ​​turning the embassy, ​​appointed to condemn everything that had been done and demand justice for Chrysostom, into a “congratulatory” embassy, ​​which “did everything” for a successful outcome of the strife of the Eastern Church. The ambassadors rejected this proposal with disgust. This gave them the opportunity to learn about the death of Arsas and his replacement by Atticus at the archbishop's council of Constantinople; they could not get a word out about what happened to Chrysostom. Indignant at the violence and not seeing the slightest hope for the success of their mandate, they persistently begged to be released to return to their Churches. Since the answer to this request was excessively delayed, they asked themselves with anxiety what would finally happen to them, and these fears disturbed them even in their sleep. One morning, Deacon Paul, who was with Bishop Emilia, a meek and prudent man, as one contemporary says, woke up cheerful and cried out that he had a revelation: the Apostle Paul, his patron, appeared to him in a dream, appearing in a boat, and repeated to him several times: “Beware on your path; do not walk as fools, but as wise men, for you see that evil days have come.” This story inspired confidence in the captives, who saw in the words of the Apostle a hint of prudence, which helped them avoid so many intrigues, and they decided to surrender themselves to the will of God. The same tribune Valerian, who forcibly took possession of the ambassadors' papers, finally appeared to announce to them that they were free. With rudeness, as if they were being expelled from Atir, he sent them onto the ship he had prepared, along with a detachment of 20 soldiers, as if they were dangerous criminals. The ship was old, almost collapsed, leaking everywhere, so the ambassadors thought that they wanted to drown them in the sea, and even a rumor spread that the helmsman had been bribed. And indeed, as soon as they had sailed a few furlongs, they began to sink and were forced to turn into Lampsacus, on the Asia Minor coast. There they had to change ship, and the convoy, in all likelihood, abandoned them. 20 days later they went ashore at Hydruntum, in Calabria, happy that they got off so well. If the executors of the orders of the Eastern Emperor treated his brother’s ambassadors this way, then even greater cruelty awaited the Eastern clerics accompanying the embassy. The imprisonment of these unfortunates was the most merciless, and only after countless oppressions did they decide to free themselves from them. At night they were secretly taken out of their cells and brought to the pier with precautions so mysterious that many imagined that they intended to drown them. But this torment would be too short. Placed in a fragile boat, with great difficulty they reached the coast of Asia Minor, from where they were taken along various roads, escorted one by one to the remote regions of the empire and imprisoned. Cyriacus was exiled to Palmyra, on the border of Persia; Eulesius - to the Misfas fortress, near the land of the Saracens, three days' journey from Vostra; Palladium - to Sienna, on the borders of Ethiopia and Blemmye, and Demetrius - to the oasis of Libya. It is impossible to imagine greater barbarity than the treatment they received on the road by the praetorian guards who were entrusted with escorting them to their places of exile. Having taken money from the exiles, which they divided among themselves, they transported them on donkeys or on horses without saddles, and at the same time forced them to make double journeys a day, so that the stomachs of the unfortunates became completely upset from severe shaking. Out of some refined cruelty, truly devilish, these guards, turning into executioners, delighted themselves by transporting venerable bishops through the cities of the East under the most outrageous conditions - and all this in order to dishonor Chrysostom. They were placed not in the houses of the clergy, but in Jewish and Samaritan synagogues, where they were forced to spend the nights, and sometimes they were escorted to public hotels and brothels. It turned out that such bishops as Ancyra, Tarsus, Antioch and Caesarea of ​​Palestine not only closed their doors to them, but even opposed the laity to receive them. Partly by threats, partly by gifts, these bishops sought to be expelled from the cities. At the same time, Leonty Aankirsky was especially distinguished for his cruelty. Such was the outcome of this embassy, ​​for which the Western bishops, especially the Bishop of Rome, so energetically prepared, intending to justify Chrysostom. The attempt to convene an Ecumenical Council ended there. This was the last hope of the exile's friends, the last means of obtaining justice, because they knew too well the state of the Eastern Church to place any hope in it. Although John Chrysostom learned the unfavorable outcome of Innocent’s attempts, God still judged him to maintain faith in the victory of truth until his death. The failure of this attempt was felt in the West as well as in the East. The triumvirate triumphed, and anyone in the East who still dared to hold Johannite opinions or maintain relations with the Johannites was declared a conspirator, an enemy of the state and guilty of insulting the Emperor. Emperor Arkady was soon assured of this: and woe was the travelers who, coming from the West, brought some papers relating to Eastern affairs. One monk, captured with letters to the priests of Constantinople, was publicly, by order of Archbishop Atticus, punished with a whip, and then, since he refused to indicate his accomplices, he, covered in blood, was lifted onto a bench and his bones were turned out. In the West, failure has caused great despondency. Rome and Italy, trembling from the invasion of Radagaisus they had just withstood and from the new feud with Alaric, took care of themselves: the circumstances were not favorable for venturing into war with the Eastern Empire over the refusal of the Council - Honorius hid his shame and fell silent. The Western Church itself was divided. The African bishops, succumbing to the machinations of Theophilus, showed more and more indifference to the cause of Chrysostom and even went so far as to condemn Pope Innocent for breaking with the Patriarch of Alexandria, who was always faithful to Orthodox teaching. Augustine himself, no matter how disposed he was towards the exiled archbishop, also succumbed to these admonitions, not wanting, as he said, to break with his brothers and participate in the division of the Universal Church. Thus, corruption found support even in the most glorious personalities of the Western Church. Among the Italian bishops there also turned out to be a lot of betrayals, or, better to say, their zeal cooled a lot. Most of the Churches of Gaul entered into communion with the Patriarch of Alexandria: Bishop Exuperius of Toulouse sent Theophilus alms. Innocent alone remained unshakable, believing in the rightness of the exile and in the justice of God. The last words of the letter to Pope Innocent: “If only we were driven out of here,” contained Chrysostom’s prophecy, which was not slow to come true. Thanks to precautions, he spent the winter of 406 so well that even the inhabitants of Armenia themselves were amazed and said that he had almost acclimatized here. But the enemies of the saint saw with regret this restoration of his health, and his temporary stay in Aravissa revealed to them that in Armenia there was a prison for him that was more destructive than Kukuz. And then one day, when Chrysostom no longer expected any changes in his position, he unexpectedly received an order to transfer him from this deserted place, with instructions to immediately prepare for departure. The spring of 407 was coming. This struck the exile like a thunderbolt, because if at this time of year he could not be afraid of the cold of the Aravis rock, where he was one step away from death, then the new danger lay in separation from the world, for him even more terrible than the harshest winters and than death itself. And indeed, he soon learned that this inhumane measure of his confinement was reinforced by even more inhumane instructions: to surround him with a tighter ring of supervision, to stop his correspondence and to discourage visitors who flocked to him with all kinds of cavils. It was already the cold of the grave, added to the unbearable frosts of that area. His imprisonment was soon followed by a pleasant visit, which was due to the secret relaxation of his guards. A messenger from Olympias, one of her servants, visited him with a letter from her. Lost in the mountains, he was stopped and robbed by thieves, who detained him for several days, awaiting ransom; then they released him, convinced that they could not expect a ransom from the priest, who was himself a prisoner and dying of hunger. So, the servant of Olympias appeared exhausted, robbed, in the most pitiful condition, but the letter remained with him. His appearance saddened Chrysostom, and he scolded the pious deaconess, because this man had escaped great danger. “You,” the saint wrote to her, “almost made me the cause of a person’s death, I would never have been consoled by this.” And then again he returns to the precautions necessary for correspondence: “It would be best to wait for safer cases, through the hands of one of the clergy located towards us.” Olympias's letter dealt a cruel blow to Chrysostom's heart. Always attentive to what concerned her spiritual father, sometimes exaggerating the danger of any situation in order to have the happiness of trembling for him, for which he often reproached her, this time she was right. Olympias learned from her like-minded people in Constantinople and even at the imperial court itself that the fate of the prisoner was being reconsidered and that they had decided to send him much further than Kukuza. The transfer to Aravissa took place shortly after she heard rumors about it. Anxiety and grief brought about a turning point in her terrible illness, a turning point stronger than anything she had experienced so far; for one minute they even thought that she had died. When she came to her senses, she had only one thought - to get rid of a life full of languor and despair, and this thought haunted her relentlessly. This was not the first time that such an obsession, often repeated as a manifestation of illness, tormented Olympias, and more than once Chrysostom countered her sinful statement about the desire to die with the arguments and commands of faith, but since the last turning point this was no longer her simple desire, which arose in a feverish delirium, but was a burning thirst that stung her relentlessly. Her letter was written under the influence of this painful thought, and it seemed that she gave herself bitter consolation by confiding this cruel secret to her friend. As far as her letter can be judged from the response to it, Olympias defended her desire for death, as usual, citing examples and arguments from the Holy Scriptures. Was it possible, she wrote, to demand wisdom from her more than from Job, who, on the edge of suffering, sent a soul-rending cry to heaven: “Why was I born?” And she, whose misfortunes exceed all measure, has not the right to say, like this righteous of the righteous and like many of the Old Testament prophets: “God, deliver me from a life that I can no longer bear.” Chrysostom trembled when he read this letter: never before had the Olympics shown so much determination in its desperate desires. In particular, he was outraged that she resorted to the texts of the Old Testament. In his answer, in places filled with the highest eloquence, he begs and conjures her to remove the darkness of the devil from his spirit. By what right does she refer to the example of Job, asks Chrysostom. Job, this holy man, who was worthy of having God bow His eyes to him, did not belong to either the Old or the New Testament; one natural virtue made him a wonderful champion of patience, beyond the formal commands flowing from Divine Revelation. Yes, the Old Law itself was far from the perfection of the New Testament, which defines our responsibilities in accordance with the prescriptions of the Gospel and the hopes of eternal life. “It should also be noted,” he added, “that Job fell into despair no earlier than Satan had the opportunity to weaken his body with illness and break his will through exhaustion of strength. Until then, Job endured all the scourges with which Satan struck him: the loss of property, the fire of barns and houses, the loss of herds and slaves, the betrayal of his neighbors, the death of all his children, crushed together at the feast and breathing their last among the wine and cups, and he did not have a single one left to unite his tears with him; he accepted all this with firmness, even with a feeling of gratitude to God, who sent these trials. Then he was Job, Job from head to toe. But later, when he was struck by illness, when ulcers ravaged his body, when a whole series of sufferings robbed him of the strength to endure the torment, his courage was exhausted and he wished for death. This last struggle of man with himself was only the last and dangerous temptation to which the evil spirit doomed him, and yet Job resisted him, Job took possession of his spirit again, and the spirit of evil could no longer think of anything else to conquer this righteous man.” The development of this thought, the picture of the death of sons to whom the father cannot pay his last debt and who went to the grave in the midst of the remains of the feast that united them - this entire passage can be called one of the best works that ever came from the pen of Chrysostom. So, to the Gospel is where Olympias should turn for examples and guidance when these vile thoughts begin to besiege her. The Lord said: “If your righteousness is not higher than the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, then you will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” To wish for death now is criminal, because there are crowns woven for all sorrows. And Saint Paul, this great Apostle, drove away the desire for death far from himself. “To see my chains fall off in order to be with Christ,” he says, “would be very desirable, but it is much more necessary, for the sake of my brothers, that I remain imprisoned in this body.” He himself experienced everything that is the most painful of all bodily sufferings; Three times he prayed to the Lord to free him from them, but not receiving what he prayed for, he accepted these sufferings with calmness and joy, as a test. “Believe, believe, Olympiad,” wrote Chrysostom, “there is no small merit in enduring suffering from an illness at home, pinned to your bed, if only it is endured with humility. The merit of a Christian is not only to endure the wrath of the executioners who torture and torment the body in the middle of the forum or the amphitheater; There is also patience, which knows how to overcome the torment of illness, and your illness, dear and venerable wife, is your household executioner.” This was Chrysostom's last letter. At this time he finished the arguments intended for the Olympiad, and, probably, the deaconess's envoy carried them to her along with this answer. Here ends the story of his thoughts and feelings in exile. The rest of his life belongs only to events. While he still dreamed of the possibility of fulfilling the hopes of his friends and had already forgiven his enemies, since the persecution harmed only his personal peace, his enemies, on the contrary, flared towards him with what seemed like double rage. The very calmness of Chrysostom irritated them: they would like to see him dying, dejected, begging for mercy; they repented that they had spared him too much by assigning him a “tolerable” place of exile. Patriarch Porfiry of Antioch was especially bitter against him. Being a neighbor of Armenia, he felt at every moment the power of the exile extending to his city and even to his churches, and he himself, with his useless and strange threats, became an object of contempt for the laity and ridicule for his clergy. As he passed, he heard people whispering around him: “The victors themselves tremble before him, like children before theatrical masks... His name alone makes the greats of the world and the rich rulers of the Church pale. If there are miracles in the world, then, of course, this is a miracle!” Each of these words was for Porfiry a blow of a scourge, tearing his heart. Forgetting all shame, he conspired with the Bishop of Constantinople and with the sycophants of the imperial palace to wrest the last concession from Arcadius, who was still hesitating. This concession consisted in removing Chrysostom from the populated areas, where his mere presence, according to them, ignites unrest and rebellion against the Emperor and his bishops. But where should he be sent? Everywhere he turned out to be too close to some province. After searching thoroughly on the map, they settled on Pythiunt, which did not frighten any of the patriarchs of the triumvirate, and the Emperor gave his consent. Pithiunt, once a great city, was now in ruins. It lay on the banks of the Pontus Euxine, at the foot of the Caucasus, at the extreme limits of Roman possessions. According to historians, he was surrounded only by wild and ferocious barbarians: the Geniokhs, Laz, Tsans, Huns, who, making endless raids on places of trade in the East, ruined them. Pithiunt also lived by trade. Now this city had become a fortified camp for the border legions, and only from time to time one could see some local merchant there. There was no Christian population with whom the former archbishop could enter into relations at all: the barbarians were pagans or Christians only in name, who could not understand the teachings of St. John, and as for the garrisons, which usually consisted of foreigners on state pay, they could be placed on the same level with respect to religion as the Heniocchi and the Huns. So, the bishops could be sure that the golden lips of Archbishop John were finally doomed here to grave silence. As soon as this choice was made, Atticus, as a clever man, took precautions regarding the exile's very transfer, fearing that the captive would not arouse indignation or compassion among the population past which he would be taken. It was agreed that when passing through, he would avoid the towns between Aravissa and Pythiunt, especially those where his plight was more or less sympathized with. It was then decided to avoid the mistake made during the first exile, when he was given a praetorian escort, the officers of which he “seduced” and who turned from guards into his servants. Atticus and Severian agreed on this issue with the praetorian prefect, who delivered to them those who were the most rude and ferocious. Both officers of the convoy were promised a significant promotion if they carried out the assignment properly; They were even made to understand that there would be no particular dissatisfaction with the fact that the exile would not reach Pithiunt, because fatigue on the road, in fact, could lead to the same end as execution, and such a death would put the Sovereign in a less awkward position. These people set out on long marches to the Aravis fortress, which they reached by the middle or end of June. Their appearance before the exile contained something sinister; they even seemed to boast of their rudeness. They repeatedly repeated to many that they wanted to earn the promotion they were promised, they even said that it was of little importance if this pathetic and sick man did not reach his destination, and that this would not affect their reward at all. If these speeches reached Chrysostom, then more than ever he needed all his submission to the will of Providence to strengthen him. These are the circumstances under which and under the supervision of which convoy he set off when the order was announced to him. The road from Aravissa to Pythium went first through Sebaste, the metropolis of Greater Armenia, then it turned west, crossed the border of the Pontic province and reached Koman, one of the large cities of this province; from there, deviating to the right, it stretched along the shore of the Pontus Euxine towards the soles of the Caucasus. The Comans were located almost a third of the way between Aravissa and Pithiunt. The path was one of the most difficult and dangerous in all of Asia: it was necessary to climb high mountains, and at almost every step cross rivers or streams, which often overflowed their banks. Chrysostom walked most of the way, and the difficulties of the road were probably very great, or his fatigue was very great, if the testimony of a modern historian is true that it took three months to move from Aravissa to Coman. In addition to all this, the guards tried to make his journey as tiring as possible. Their “inventions” in torment multiplied the suffering of the unfortunate person they protected. Whether it was raining like buckets, they chose exactly this time to set off on their journey and continued until the clothes on the exile were wet and streams flowed down his chest and back. Whether they drove out into some burnt plain under a cloudless sky, they allowed themselves the cruel pleasure of leading him bareheaded, through the sun, in the midst of the heat of the day. Chrysostom’s head was almost devoid of hair, like Elisha’s, says his biographer, so the heat was a mortal torment for him. These are the means these scoundrels have invented to get their reward as quickly as possible. If they happened to pass through a city where an exile could rest and take a much-needed bath because the fever burned him from within as much as the sun from without, the convoy refused to allow him to stop. Halts were made in sparsely populated and deserted places where it was impossible to get the slightest help. Letters were prohibited, of course, all communications were stopped. One of the leaders of the convoy was so ferocious that he flew into a rage when those he met pitied the exile or addressed him with consoling words: he scolded and used force, as if he himself were being insulted in some way. His comrade was not so angry: Chrysostom’s meekness and humility finally touched him; he showed him sympathy, but secretly, because he was afraid of his comrade and also wanted to earn the promised promotion. Three months had already passed, according to Palladius, since they had been advancing in this way through mountains, valleys and rivers, when at last they reached Coman. Chrysostom barely moved. His face seemed to be burned and, if we follow the comparison of the same Palladius, “his crimson head, bowed on his chest, was like a ripe fruit that was ready to tear away from the branch.” Comana, also called Comana Portica to distinguish it from another city of the same name in Cappadocia, was a large city in which travelers found all kinds of supplies and recreation. But the cruel officer gave a sign to drive past, and... “they drove through the city like crossing a bridge,” adds Palladium. Five or six miles away there was a small secluded church, where the commanders ordered the convoy to stop. Chrysostom, completely exhausted, was laid to rest in one of the buildings. The church was dedicated to the holy martyr Basilisk, whose grave was located here. He suffered for the faith in 308 along with the martyr Cleonikos under Maximian. At night, Chrysostom had a vision. The martyr Basilisk appeared to him and addressed him with the following words: “Hope, John, my brother, tomorrow we will be with you.” That same night, the priest assigned to guard this church and tomb saw a similar vision, and the martyr said to him: “Prepare a place for our brother John, for he is coming here.” This priest later affirmed the reality of his vision. In full confidence that he had received orders from above, he tried the next morning to prevent the departure of the convoy. “Stay, I beg you,” he told the convoy commanders, “stay at least until the fifth hour.” In all likelihood, he considered this hour appointed for him from above, but the Praetorians did not think to listen to him and hastened to leave. They had already passed about 30 stages, when suddenly the exile felt such an attack of fever that he feared for his life. Fearing that he would die in their arms, in the middle of the road, the convoy returned to the church, which it had left several hours earlier. Chrysostom could no longer stand on his feet. He said to be led to the altar and asked the priest of this church for a completely white robe, which he wanted to put on before death, sensing its approach. According to his wishes, the priest brought it, and Chrysostom changed his clothes, taking off all his clothes down to his shoes and distributing them to those present. Having fulfilled this, he wished to partake of the Holy Mysteries from the hands of the priest, prayed fervently and ended his last word with the saying that was so often on his tongue: “Glory to God for everything! Amen!" Then he crossed himself, lay down on the floor slabs and never got up again. “His soul,” says the narrator of this sad scene, “has shaken off the dust of this mortal life; having united with his fathers, he departed to Christ.” The coffin, completely ready, was accidentally found near the church; he was carried into it, and the second martyr was placed next to the first. It was the 18th of the calendars of October, the seventh consulate of Honorius and the second of young Theodosius, i.e. September 14 (old style) 407 AD. Saint John Chrysostom lived 60 years, was a bishop for 9 years and about 7 months, of which he spent 3 years and 3 months in exile. This event, so important for the Christian world, did not create sudden confusion. Although everyone foresaw it very well, they accepted it with some surprise; persecutors and persecuted watched each other. The persecution did not stop, the deposed or expelled bishops were not returned to their places, and the Johannites were not reunited. And the West was struck with stupor: in the midst of universal silence one voice of the Roman Church was heard. In the name of justice and the laws of the Church, Pope Innocent declared that he would not enter into communion with the eastern bishops, excommunicated by him for the sake of John Chrysostom, unless they included his name in the diptychs of their Churches as the Archbishop of Constantinople. This was a recognition of its legitimacy and a condemnation of the acts by which the saint was deposed from his throne. Innocent announced this declaration to three patriarchs - Atticus, Porphyry and Theophilus, all three rejected it. As for the Emperor Arcadius, he must have felt true horror at the news of the death which his commands brought about, and, as was his wont, he awaited with trembling some manifestation of heavenly wrath against him or his family. But, not seeing anything like this, he little by little came to his senses, and his spiritual leaders Atticus and Severian completed the rest. It even happened that he could be assured that not only did the wrath of God not weigh upon him, but that he had received from above the most precious gift of the blessed - the gift of working miracles. Strange and absurd as this adventure may seem, modern history has brought it into its pages, and we are obliged to inform our readers about it. Soon after the death of Chrysostom, the Emperor, perhaps prompted by repentance, went to one small church in Constantinople, popularly called Caria, i.e. Hazel because an old walnut tree was planted in its atrium and the saint to whom the church was dedicated was said to have been hanged from the branches of this tree. During this pious visit, Arkady took with him a rich and numerous retinue, so that the entire neighboring population came running to see him. Soon not only the square and the church, but also its outbuildings were flooded with crowds of all ages and genders. Among these outbuildings was a dilapidated building, the rotten floor of which collapsed under the weight of the crowd, but it so happened that no one was hurt. They were not slow to see a miracle in this, and the flatterers attributed this miracle to the prayers of the Emperor. Supporters of the impostors proclaimed Arkady, the son of Theodosius, a saint, whom the Lord visited with his favor, and it seems that he himself believed it. After this incident, which could well have calmed his conscience, Arkady returned to his usual inaction and again fell into apathy. Finally, he truly fell asleep, in the arms of death, on May 1, 408, seven and a half months after the death of Chrysostom. The second task which Innocent took upon himself, as sacred as the first, was no less difficult to carry out and even met with even more opposition. Many people, essentially indifferent during Chrysostom’s life, outraged by his torment after his death, asked themselves: wouldn’t including his name in church diptychs be a continuation of the schism? The triumvirate of patriarchs rallied more closely than ever in view of the demands of Innocent, whose refusal to communicate with them they were quick to present to the Eastern Churches as an arrogant interference in the disciplinary decrees of their Churches. Never before has the oppression of these persons over the Churches entrusted to their conscience by the decrees of Arcadius reached greater severity. And during the five years that elapsed after the death of Chrysostom - until 412, not one of the bishops subordinate to their department dared to take upon themselves the execution of this just cause; at least history does not mention any such person. Theophilus, who led the persecution against Chrysostom during his lifetime, took the same position against the late archbishop. The intrigues, deception, and bribery that he mastered skillfully were not limited to the East alone: ​​he acquired many supporters in Gaul, Italy, right up to the court of Ravenna, if you believe the words of his contemporaries. Africa openly followed him from June 407, when the Council of Carthage turned to Pope Innocent with a request not to interrupt communication with the Egyptian Church, always so Orthodox. Relying on these threats, intrigues and bribes, Theophilus issued a vile libel against the person of Chrysostom, through which he intended to justify himself, staining his victim. An incident that we cannot call happy, preserved for us a fragment of this lampoon in the work of a bishop of the 6th century, intended for the Emperor Justinian. Now you can’t help but blush, reading what the clergyman and one of the most significant Eastern patriarchs wrote without shame about the saint he destroyed. The author uses his theological knowledge to invent insane accusations of witchcraft, uses the Holy Scriptures, drawing from there terrible formulas for curses and insults. According to this work, Saint John was the devil, whose words flowed like a dirty stream into the souls of his listeners, a traitor along with Judas, and that, just as Satan takes the form of a bright angel, John was not in reality what he seemed; that he persecuted his fellow men with that hellish malice with which Saul was possessed, and brought to death the servants of God and His saints. Chrysostom was also called here “nasty and depraved, wicked in the Church of the firstborn, given over to the rage of the lust for power and magnified by his madness; he gave his soul to the devil, indulging in shameful adultery; his priesthood was vile, his sacrifices profaned; he was an enemy of the human race and surpassed in crimes the audacity of robbers.” “The bonds with which Chrysostom was entangled,” it says here, “could not be broken,” and Theophilus heard the voice of God calling to him: “This man should judge with me!” The pen refuses to convey such vile insults, however, Jerome, in order to please the Patriarch of Alexandria, his former enemy, having reconciled with him over Origenism, had the weakness of translating this vile libel into Latin in order to make it known in the West. To the honor of mankind it should be said that these reproaches, far from damaging the cause of their victim, attracted more than one honest or still wavering heart to her. As for Theophilus, he did not show his shamelessness and insolence for long: once, in 412, he was found dead in bed after a long sleepy infirmity, but his death did not free the Alexandrian Church from the tendency to discord and intrigues that this patriarch had rooted in it during the 27 years of his reign. Another death had more important consequences in the affairs of the East - the death of the impostor Patriarch of Antioch Porphyry, which followed in the same year. So, of the three leaders, two were gone, but the army still remained, and the influence of the Constantinople impostor supported, by all means, a schism in the remaining Churches. Alexander, who was elevated to the archbishop's throne of Antioch after Porphyry, a strict monk who was for some time a priest of the Church of Hagia Sophia, kept in the depths of his soul high respect and gratitude for the Bishop whom he once served. His first concern was to restore in the diptychs of his Antiochian archbishopric the name that should have been its pride, then he wrote to the pope, asking for unity with the Roman Church, and sent his letter with a deputation, which he charged with expressing both his feelings and the hope of returning to the true path by means of prudence the minds so deeply divided. This was the first step taken in the East towards reconciliation, but this step was of the greatest significance: it freed Innocent from moral responsibility, destroying his loneliness in the face of almost the entire Christian world; he foreshadowed, moreover, a future return to the unity of all Orthodox Asia. Innocent could also realize in the depths of his soul that in a fit of jealousy he was not mistaken in a distant matter that seemed fair and legal to him; the great saint himself judged in the same way as he did in matters of this kind. In a fit of holy delight, Innocent congratulated the Patriarch of Antioch. “We did not think otherwise,” he wrote to him, “about the Church, founded in the same way as the Roman one, by the Apostle Peter, in which even before ours, this supreme Apostle taught.” Alexander elevated to the episcopal thrones of Syria many of those bishops whom Chrysostom had once installed and who were expelled by the Council of Oak or Porphyry. He then invited the bishops under his jurisdiction to follow his example by inscribing the name of St. John in their diptychs. Soon many petitions for union with this Church were received in Rome. Innocent established a deliberative meeting in his person to review petitions and test petitioners. To this council, which consisted of 24 Italian bishops, he appointed Cassian, a former deacon of Chrysostom, who became a priest in Rome after moving there, as secretary. Cassian, who was at one time a monk in Syria, knew the personnel of the clergy of this province, and his reverent attachment to the memory of his former Lord did not allow the fear that he would show excessive tolerance to hidden enemies and traitors. Moreover, the pope determined the conditions under which he would agree to union, and for the sake of greater solemnity he wished that a program of these conditions should be entered into the protocols of the Roman Church. Apparently, it can be assumed that the most important of these conditions was that St. John Chrysostom should be recognized as having not ceased to be the Archbishop of Constantinople, because he appealed his wrong deposition and God called him from this world before the Ecumenical Council could pronounce its decision on his appeal. This was precisely the basis on which the demand to convene the Council rested, and the Roman Church did not allow any subterfuge or discrepancy regarding this; it wanted the matter to be returned to the position in which it was at the time of the first condemnation. Following this instruction, the bishops also consulted, Cassian expressed his opinion, and the pope decided to accept or not the proposed unity. The number of petitioners was large, among them was Akaki Vereisky. Akaki's letter, not clear enough in its expressions and ambiguous, could not be accepted without changes. It was sent to Patriarch Alexander with a proposal to force the Bishop of Verean to simply sign the terms of the Roman Church. Akaki at first resisted and launched into cunning explanations, but they were unsuccessful, and he finally gave in. If it can be said that the Patriarch of Syria has now joined Orthodoxy, then the same could not be said about the other two. A tireless apostle of reconciliation, Alexander took advantage of his previous relations with the Church of Constantinople to influence its flock and clergy. He personally went to the capital to call there, in front of Atticus, for the restoration of the unjustly deposed archbishop and for his name to be included in the diptychs. No matter how much Atticus thundered against him, no matter how much he called Alexander’s attempts “reckless and daring actions, illegal interference of one bishop in the diocese of another,” Alexander boldly continued his preaching. Meanwhile, he died, and his successor continued his work rather sluggishly. Finally, in 415, a priest sent with a letter from Acacius spread a rumor that this bishop would join the signature only under certain conditions, and the alarm was renewed. Atticus persisted and seemed to continue the “persecution” of the already deceased Chrysostom. But the people of Constantinople asked for the name of St. John to be included in the diptychs, and soon they demanded it - and the rebellion put an end to the archbishop’s subterfuge. Frightened by the threats and noise, Atticus hurried to the palace for the orders of the Emperor, or, better to say, the Emperor’s advisers, because the then reigning Sovereign, young Theodosius, who succeeded Arcadia, was no older than 14 years. The council transferred the decision of this matter, because of which a popular uprising was about to break out, to the personal responsibility of Atticus. It was difficult and unpleasant for Atticus to make this decision, because to finally recognize the rank of Archbishop of Constantinople for Chrysostom, who died on September 14, 407, would mean to renounce himself, at least from his own actions before this date. This would mean recognizing oneself as a kidnapper and an illegitimate bishop, because according to church laws, two bishops could not occupy the same throne at the same time: the other had to cross out himself. In addition, Atticus occupied the throne for only ten years, replacing Arsas, the immediate “successor” of Chrysostom. Having admitted what was demanded of him, would he not weaken the force of some of the acts of his episcopate and all the acts of his predecessor? There was something to think about, but meanwhile time was pressing, and the imperial council avoided unrest. Atticus relented. More ambitious than a fanatic or an implacable enemy, he waged a fierce struggle with Chrysostom during his life, because he feared his return, but now that death had freed him, could the shadow be dangerous for him? Obviously not; he would continue to wear the miter, and his compliance would, without a doubt, bring him the submission of the other party. This is what Atticus said to himself, and added the name of Chrysostom to the list of archbishops of Constantinople. However, this concession, made so reluctantly, did not bring all the Johannites closer to him, and since he himself was ashamed of his act, he considered it necessary to justify himself before the schismatics, faithful in Hatred, especially before the Patriarch of Alexandria, whom he left alone in the struggle with two-thirds of the East and with the head of the Roman Church. His justification was stated in a letter which he addressed to this patriarch, but which, in essence, was intended for publicity and which historians have included in their books. The Patriarchate of Egypt then passed from the biased hands of Theophilus to the hands of his heir Cyril... The letter, firstly, was humiliating, timid and earned apologies from its author even in his very humiliation. Atticus tried to justify his action by fear of the unbridled people of Constantinople and the will of the Emperor; however, the entire burden of the accusation fell, first of all, on the Patriarch of Antioch, whose words, full of recklessness and insolence, should have ignited an internecine war at the very doors of the imperial palace. Yielding to threats in order to preserve peace, Atticus followed the example of the Apostle Paul, who, as he himself said, “did everything for everyone,” in the spirit of reconciliation and unity. If his act is considered from the point of view of church decrees, then nothing contrary to written rules or tradition can be found in it. Church diptychs contain not only the names of bishops, but also laity, even women, and does it matter in what category the name of John was placed? Besides, wasn't he a bishop? So, Atticus could have introduced it, bearing in mind the time when he was a legitimate bishop, and not the time when he was no longer one, and with this reservation, its introduction did not contradict in any way the condemnation of him at both Councils. Did the addition of his name to the other names of the diptych desecrate these lists, worthy of all respect? Not at all. No one condemned David for erecting a magnificent monument to Saul, that king rejected by God, and in modern times the presence of the Arian Eudoxius, buried under the same altar with the Holy Apostles Andrew, Luke and Timothy, in no way detracted from the veneration to which these saints are entitled. Peace is such a great good and is so urgently prescribed by the Lord that he, Atticus, has no need to apologize for wanting to restore it, as far as it depended on him, but that he, on the contrary, exhorts him, the Patriarch of Alexandria, to follow his example, so that at last the Christian world can rest in fraternal harmony, by the pacification of all parties. This last admonition, more than anything else, should have infuriated the person to whom it was addressed. He responded to Atticus' most humble justification with a letter full of irony, a letter that has reached us and which can provide an example of subtle ridicule. The ardor of Cyril’s character and the way of thinking adopted from his uncle are also indicated by Filaret, Archbishop of Chernigov, as the reason for Cyril’s hostile feelings towards the deceased Chrysostom. “According to the now known letters,” says Archbishop Philaret, “the Patriarch of Constantinople suggested that Cyril include the name of Chrysostom in the diptychs of the pastors of the Church, and Cyril’s answer to Atticus concluded too sharply dissatisfaction with the name of Chrysostom. Even if we agree that these letters are not genuine, then Saint Isidore Pelusiot, whom Cyril respected as a father, had to convince Cyril to part with the thoughts about Chrysostom received from his uncle.” Thus, the danger of a schism because of the deceased Chrysostom was, perhaps, stronger than before because of the living Chrysostom. Nevertheless, Innocent did not give in, trusting in the assistance of God, who, amid the storms of our world, requires from people only constant love for goodness and courage. This new struggle continued throughout Innocent's life. Under the successors of this pope, Patriarch Kirill, who was soon occupied with new disputes and strife in the East, needed the support of the Roman Church, and since in order to receive it he had, first of all, to enter into communion with it (Philarett, Archbishop of Chernigov, notes: “The Western Church had not entered into communion with the Eastern Churches until they included the name of Chrysostom in the diptychs”), he consulted with some bishops, tired of the schism, and inscribed the name of Chrysostom in the Alexandrian diptychs. Ten years later he acted as papal legate in the Nestorian controversy. Meanwhile, death every year cleared the field in which so many passions were agitated for a third of a century around the person or name of Chrysostom. Smitten by her, in turn, in 425, Atticus left his archbishopric throne to successors who did not participate in the persecution at all, and the Johannites gradually reunited with their archbishops. While unity was being restored, enthusiastic veneration of the Kukuz exile was revived in his Church: they were no longer afraid to preach openly about his glory and martyrdom, even in the face of persecutors. Finally, in 434, fate elevated to the archbishop's throne a man who in his youth had been a reader and scribe of Chrysostom, and even, as one historian says, “a minister in his person.” Proclus, that was his name, sacredly preserved the memory of his former Lord and did not miss a single opportunity to remind the people about him. And then one day, in 437, when on the day of his celebration he pronounced a word of praise to him, those present interrupted him with cries: “We demand that Bishop John be returned to us; we want our father’s body!” Proclus was not slow to bring to the attention of the Emperor this desire of the people, in the satisfaction of which he saw the final return of peace. Theodosius II, who still occupied the throne of the Eastern Empire and then reigned independently, agreed without hesitation with the wishes of the people and the archbishop. Raised in his youth by the cares of his elder sister Pulcheria, who never, during the strongest religious strife, shared the feelings of their common mother, from his youth he revered the great persecuted orator and secretly sympathized with him, calling him “the teacher of the Universe and the patriarch with golden lips.” An order was immediately given that the body of the exile be brought to Constantinople and buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles. So, Chrysostom left the Church of St. Basilisk, where he had been resting for 30 years. The shrine that kept his remains was transported from city to city - to Chalcedon, among a crowd of countless people, priests and monks, constantly changing. The imperial trireme, magnificently decorated, awaited him at Chalcedon, because the Emperor did not want any other vessel to receive the sacred remains. The whole city was here: the Emperor, the highest civil and military authorities, and the sea was covered with such a multitude of ships and boats, crowded with spectators and burning torches, “that from the mouth of the Pontus Euxine to the Propontis it seemed like dry land.” That's what historians say. The funeral procession, upon entering the capital, met with the same honors and solemn pomp; a place was prepared for the coffin in the Church of the Holy Apostles, founded by Constantine for the burial of Christian emperors and bishops of Constantinople. Arkady and Eudoxia were laid there next to the founder of their reigning house. At the same moment when Chrysostom’s coffin was lowered onto the stone, Theodosius took off his purple and covered it with it. Then, bowing his eyes and head over the unfortunate remains, he asked them to forgive his father and mother, begging the holy martyr bishop to forget the evil they had caused him. Before laying the body in the crypt, Proclus wished to present it to the people from the height of the platform on which the archbishops were seated, and the people, with loud cries from which the vaults of the church trembled, cried out like one person: “Our Father, return to your throne!” Such was the final triumph of John Chrysostom, then he was placed not far from Arkady and Eudoxia. Thus, the persecutors and the persecuted rested together, under the shadow of the forgiveness of death. But this restoration of Chrysostom’s honor, undoubtedly too late, was not yet complete. Finally, the Church recognized him as a saint and martyr without shedding blood. What happened, meanwhile, among so many different unexpected changes, to the noble and holy wife, whose soul was connected with the soul of Chrysostom by bonds inaccessible even to death? Neither history nor the Church wanted to separate them, and she was given a place next to the one who was her leader and father. Contemporaries do not tell us with what bitter suffering the last persecutions of this friend crushed Olympias, but it seems that she found generous consolation in the last blow that ended his suffering. He suffered no more; he has now received the crown of martyrdom - apparently, this is the feeling that possessed her during the rest of her life. Like her revered father, Olympias first moved from exile to exile, to Cyzicus and Nicomedia, where she finally remained. She left a girls' hostel in Constantinople, which could serve as a refuge for her, because after the death of Chrysostom, her exile could easily be canceled, but the capital became hateful to her. And being in an Asian country, the place of the archbishop’s last sufferings, was no less cruel for her; she arranged her life in such a way as to die alive in the place of her exile, where, however, sorrows and storms did not cease to crush her. She accepted everything calmly and indifferently, as if she no longer belonged to the world. Chrysostom's friends visited her and showed her great honor, treating her like a saint. One of them, Palladius, who saw her at this time, left us a touching picture of her personality. The same simplicity of dress, the same emaciation of the body, the same charity within the limits of a state reduced almost to poverty. In her house, like in a church, only prayers and tears were heard... While Chrysostom's friends surrounded her with honor, her enemies tormented her. Theophilus allowed himself great audacity to place in his libel a shameful slander against a noble woman, to whose generosity he himself had turned in the days of her wealth. He, however, did not mention in this satire one incident that was preserved to us by his contemporaries. Palladius relates that once, when this man, enriched by covetousness, asked the deaconess for a large sum of money, which he assured was for the poor in Egypt, and she hesitated, then he knelt down in order by this humiliation to force from her what she had refused to his simple request. At the sight of this, Olympias was dumbfounded and, kneeling down herself, exclaimed: “Get up, my father! I will not rise while the bishop is at my feet.” Theophilus stood up in embarrassment, but she gave him only a small offering, finding that he was rich enough to give alms himself. If the Patriarch of Alexandria forgot this incident, then the friends of Olympias remembered it and, by divulging it, answered this man for his baseness. Finally, she faded away in the wilderness of her hidden existence, in order, as Palladius adds, to receive “the crown of patience” in another place. That's all that history tells us, but one legend complemented what was missing in the news of her death. It relates that while the Bishop of Nicomedia was present at this last struggle of life, Olympias asked him not to worry at all about her burial, because she knew from heavenly revelation where her exiled remains would lie. “Tell me,” she said, “to put my ashes in a coffin and then throw them into the sea. God will make sure that I am not left without a burial.” According to another retelling, the saint herself, in a dream vision, declared this to the bishop at the moment when she gave up the ghost. Be that as it may, the legend adds that the bishop meekly obeyed this command from above, and the coffin with the remains of Olympias was thrown into the sea, but the waves seemed to soften under the precious burden and quietly carried her from shore to shore all the way to the Bosphorus. There, the current moved the coffin away from Constantinople, as if the disgust that had possessed the deaconess during her life had survived her. The coffin, lifted by the waters, washed ashore in a place called Brokhti, - at a cape on the Asia Minor shore of the Bosphorus, quite close to Constantinople, but on the opposite side. The inhabitants of this place, forewarned in a dream, came running to meet and, having removed the coffin from the water, laid it near the altar in the Church of St. Thomas, which was located here. The saint remained there for many years, performing many miracles, until in 618 Sergius, Patriarch of Constantinople, ordered her body to be taken on Holy Saturday, April 18, and buried in the monastery she founded two and a half centuries earlier. The schism at that time had long ceased, the memory of Chrysostom was restored, his name was renewed in diptychs and recognized as a saint - the Olympiad could rest peacefully. This legend, like most of the others, expresses popular feelings for the spiritual daughter of Chrysostom and for the indissoluble affection of both. The Church itself shared the same feeling. Their correspondence, at least the letters of Chrysostom, were reverently preserved among the church monuments of the East, as an example of edification and epistolary eloquence. The deaconess's devotion to her father's work also received recognition - the name of Olympias was included in the list of saints as the name of a confessor of the Orthodox faith and as a woman who was a model of Christian perfection in the ranks of high society. Christ is at your door, open to Him, you owe Him the best room, but He only asks you for a corner! Place Him wherever you want, in back rooms with your servants, in barns, stables with your donkeys and horses - but just accept Him. Repent twice, repent again, and every time you repent, come to me, I will heal you.