Краткое жизнеописание святителя Иоанна Златоуста (до его служения на Константинопольской кафедре)

Childhood, youth and asceticism of Saint John (347–380) It is not known exactly in what year the great saint was born: writers differ in their opinions regarding this for 10 years. According to a more likely assumption, John was born around 347 A.D., in Antioch. His parents were noble and rich people. His father Secundus held the high position of governor in the imperial army, and his mother Anfusa was a very educated woman for her time and, at the same time, an exemplary wife and mother of the family. Both of them were Christians and, moreover, not only in name, as often happened during the transitional period, but true and real Christians, devoted to the Holy Church. It is known that Sister Secunda, Joanna's aunt, was even a deaconess in the Antioch Church. Secundus and Anfusa, still young spouses, had only two babies: a two-year-old girl and a newborn boy, John, the joy and consolation of their parents. But before this pious family had time to enjoy their happiness, great grief befell them: in the prime of life, its head, Secundus, died, leaving behind a young widow Anfusa with two babies. The grief of the young mother, who was twenty years old, was boundless. True, she did not need a means of living, since she had a significant fortune, but her moral torment was heavier than her material need. Young and inexperienced, she inevitably had to become the subject of various searches on the part of many false friends who were not averse to taking advantage of her wealth, and any other woman in her position could easily become a victim, if not of hobbies, then of deception and seduction. But Anfusa was one of those great women who, fully aware of their true purpose and dignity, stood above all hobbies and everyday vanity. Being a true Christian, she looked at her misfortune as a test from above and, discarding any thought of a second marriage, decided to forget about herself and devote herself entirely to maternal care for the orphaned babies. And she fulfilled this decision with such steadfastness that it caused involuntary surprise among the pagans. The famous pagan rhetorician Livanius, having subsequently learned about her maternal selflessness, involuntarily and with surprise exclaimed: “Oh, what kind of women Christians have!” Her determination was not weakened by the new grief that struck her maternal heart. Her little daughter soon died, and Anfusa was left alone with her son, who became the object of all her love and maternal care and all her hopes. Belonging to high society and being an educated woman, Anfusa did not fail to give her son the best education at that time. Having withdrawn from all the entertainments of the world and completely concentrated in her small family, she herself was able to teach her son the first rudiments of education, and this was the greatest benefit for John. From the lips of his loving mother he received his first lessons in reading and writing, and the first words he learned to form and read were the words of the Holy Scripture, which was the favorite reading of Anthusa, who found consolation in it in her premature widowhood. These first lessons were imprinted on John’s soul for the rest of his life, and if he subsequently constantly, so to speak, breathed and fed on the word of God and was engaged in its interpretation all his life, then he undoubtedly accepted this love for him under the influence of his pious mother. This is how the boy’s childhood and adolescence passed. His position required further education; Anfusa made every effort to achieve this, sparing no expense. It is not known how and where John actually received his further education - whether at home with the help of hired teachers, or in some Christian school. Antioch was famous for its schools and was a kind of Syrian Athens. There were many pagan schools of all kinds, which were famous for their teachers, shining in eloquence and philosophy, and next to them were Christian schools, where the word of God was mainly taught and interpreted, although general knowledge was not neglected, so far as it could be gleaned from the best representatives of the classical world. When John was 14–15 years old and when, therefore, his soul was particularly opening up to the conscious perception of the events and phenomena surrounding him, paganism made a last desperate attempt to overcome Christianity. His representative was Emperor Julian the Apostate. Having seized the imperial throne, he threw off the mask of hypocritical piety and acted as an open enemy of Christianity, hatred of which had long been hidden in his soul. Everywhere he began to raise decaying paganism and, at the same time, to humiliate and suppress Christianity. Since Antioch was one of the main strongholds of Christianity, which appeared there for the first time under its own name (Acts 11:26) and had glorious teachers and valiant confessors, Julian did not fail to turn his attention to this center of the religion he hated and took all measures to suppress and exterminate it. At the same time, however, he was too far-sighted to act like the former persecuting emperors. He knew from history that brutal persecution could not achieve the extermination of that religion, for which the blood of its martyrs and confessors had always been a fruitful seed, and therefore he resorted to other measures and began to act, on the one hand, positively, raising the sad spirit of the pagans, and on the other, negatively, exposing Christianity to all sorts of restrictions, mockery and satires, the ability of which could not be denied to this royal apostate. Heading to Antioch, Julian did not fail to visit its suburb Daphne, where the once famous church of Apollo was located. Once this temple with the grove surrounding it was a place of constant pagan celebrations and prayers, but now Julian was struck by its emptiness. There was not even anything to bring as a sacrifice, and the priest who met him had to slaughter his own goose on the occasion of this unexpected triumph. This picture deeply struck Julian, and especially since there was a Christian church nearby, in which the relics of St. revered by Christians were located. Vavil, resounded with sacred chants and was filled with worshipers. Julian could not stand it and then ordered the Christian church to be closed and the relics removed from it. This unjust order, however, did not suppress the spirit of the Christians. They carried out the solemn transfer of the relics, and when this majestic procession took place, resounding the surroundings and streets of Antioch with the singing of the verses of the psalm: “Let those who bow down to idols, who boast about their idols, be put to shame” (Ps. 97:7), then Julian could clearly see the large number of Christians and their enthusiastic devotion to their faith. Then, betraying his philosophical calm and hypocritical tolerance, he ordered the arrest of many Christians, threw them into prison, and even ordered some to be tortured. Meanwhile, heavenly wrath broke out over the idolatry. The Church of Apollo, which Julian cared so much about, was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. Julian's rage was boundless, and he, suspecting Christians of arson, ordered the main Christian church in Antioch to be closed, and its elderly presbyter, St. Theodoret, who refused to hand over the shrines of the temple to the pagan authorities, was martyred. One noble widow, Publiya, was beaten simply because, when Julian passed by the gates of her house, the singing of the psalm was heard from him: “May God rise again, and let His enemies be scattered!” Two of the young military leaders of the imperial guard, Iuventin and Maximin, once in a comradely company expressed a complaint about these government injustices towards Christians and, following a denunciation, were immediately arrested, imprisoned, and when they refused to bow to paganism, Julian ordered their execution. At night they were beheaded, and their bodies were buried with due honor by Christians. Giving vent to his rage, Julian, however, at the same time understood that Christianity could not be suppressed by such cruelties, which only raised the courage and spirit in Christians. Therefore, he acted in other ways, namely, through literary means. He himself wrote satires on Christianity, published works in refutation of the miracles and the Divinity of Jesus Christ, and at the same time he in every possible way constrained the methods of education for Christians, forbidding them to teach in schools and closing the schools themselves, imposed heavy taxes on Christians, confiscated church property and expelled bishops and priests, bypassed Christians with awards in the army, in the provinces he appointed persons known for their hatred of Christianity as governors, and turned a blind eye to their zeal in eradicating the hated faith by all sorts of, often bloody, means. When one of the prefects drew his attention to the cruelties being committed against Christians in the provinces, he exclaimed in indignation: “What a disaster if ten Galileans fall at the hands of one pagan!” Finally, in a greater mockery of Christianity, he decided to rebuild the Jewish temple in Jerusalem in order to refute the prediction of Jesus Christ about its complete destruction. All these events took place before the eyes of the youth John. Although already in adolescence he was distinguished by unusual concentration for his age, avoided companionship and loved to indulge in solitary reflections in the silence of his home, he could not remain completely indifferent to what was happening outside his home, and since his pious mother undoubtedly experienced many anxious days during these persecutions of Christianity, he also had to share her anxieties and fears. One might even think that John took an active part in the affairs of Christians. Reading his enthusiastic words of praise, subsequently pronounced over the tomb of the holy confessors of the faith of Christ, the valiant warriors Iuventinus and Maximinus, one cannot help but be struck by the impression that he himself once participated in the burial of these martyrs and he, along with many other Christians, shed hot tears over their headless bodies. Julian's furies ended with his well-deserved death during the Persian campaign, when he, mortally wounded, in a mad rage threw clods of mud with his dried blood towards the sun and exclaimed in his dying breath: “You have defeated me, Galilean!” After him, the throne passed to Jovian, who during his short reign tried to make amends for the damage caused to Christianity by his predecessor: he restored the name of Christ on the military banner, freed churches from taxes, and returned bishops from exile. His successor Valentinian acted in the same way, and although he made a major mistake by inviting Valens, who was given the East, as a co-ruler, in general he tried to heal the wounds inflicted on Christianity by the royal apostate, and, indeed, did a lot in this regard, prescribing, for example, the celebration of Sunday and prohibiting various magics and night sacrifices, under the pretext of which the pagans committed all sorts of abominations and supported hostility towards Christianity among the masses of the people. By this calmer time, John was already a young man. When Valentinian ascended the throne, John was already about 18 years old. Anfusa's maternal heart was delighted at the sight of her son, who, protected by her like a treasure for so many years from all harmful influences and dangers, now showed all the signs of great talents. And the loving mother considered it her duty to give him the opportunity to settle in the world in accordance with his position and talents. To succeed in everyday life, he needed to complete his education with some special course, and she, noticing in him a predisposition for oratory and thoughtfulness, gave him the opportunity to enter the school of the most famous teacher of eloquence at that time, Livan. He was a pagan sophist. He stubbornly clung to paganism and dreamed of reviving it on new philosophical principles. He looked down on Christianity, and although he did not harbor bitter enmity towards it, he was not averse to laughing at his strange beliefs in some “son of a carpenter.” Having once visited a Christian school in Antioch, which was under the direction of a very devout and strict Christian teacher, Livanius ironically asked the latter: “What is the carpenter’s son doing now?” To this blasphemous question the teacher answered seriously: “He Whom you mockingly call the son of a carpenter is in fact the Lord and Creator of heaven and earth. “He,” the teacher added, “is now building funeral horns.” Soon after this, news of Julian's unexpected death arrived, and the mocking rhetorician could not help but reflect on the answer he received from the Christian teacher. In any case, he was not distinguished by any fanatical, blind hostility to Christianity, and therefore taking a course in higher eloquence was not dangerous even for Christian youths. For example, Saint Basil studied with him and even subsequently maintained correspondence with him. Saint John, raised in the pious home of his mother and possessing spiritual weapons to repel all attacks on his faith, could not fear any bad influences from him. And he, with his characteristic thirst for knowledge, devoted himself to science and immediately discovered such talents and began to make such progress that he involuntarily delighted his teacher. The latter, partly not without alarm, saw how this extraordinary orator grew up in his school, who threatened over time to eclipse the teacher himself, and this worried him all the more because John was a Christian and was preparing to be a great herald and preacher of Christianity, while Livanius himself still hoped to resurrect the decaying corpse of paganism. There is no doubt that the old sophist would very much like to persuade the young speaker to his convictions, and this secret hope forced him to treat his beloved student with special attention. But his hope was in vain. John at this time had almost charted out his path in life, having decided to devote himself to the service of his Lord Jesus Christ, and the old sophist, being on his deathbed, with sincere sorrow answered the question of those close to him who he would like to appoint as his successor in the school: “John,” he groaned, “if the Christians had not kidnapped him from us.” Along with eloquence, John also studied philosophy from a certain philosopher Andragathius, also famous in Antioch; philosophy at this time had long lost its former classical character, and by it was meant a predominantly superficial study of previous philosophical systems, and the lack of depth of thought was covered up by streams of vague and pompous eloquence. But the more outstanding representatives of philosophy still knew how to give their science the character of a certain philosophy, and if they managed to penetrate into the laws of the spiritual life of man, then by this they already rendered a service to their students, since they drew their attention from the diversity of external phenomena to the mysterious region of the spiritual world. Andragathius probably belonged to this kind of philosopher, and if John subsequently showed an amazing ability to penetrate into the deepest recesses of people’s spiritual life, which is what his sermons and treatises shine with, then, in addition to natural spiritual insight, he owed this a lot to his teacher. Having completed his education, John, fully armed with talents and knowledge, was ready to embark on the path of life. As a noble and brilliantly educated young man, a wide field opened up before him. Due to his position, he could have entered the civil service, but the sharp turns he had recently experienced on the imperial throne, which had an impact on the entire administration, could undermine confidence in the strength of this kind of service, and therefore John preferred a freer occupation - the legal profession - an occupation that, without constraining a person with certain responsibilities, at the same time opened the way for young, gifted people to a high and honorable position in society. Almost all the noble youth of that time began their public life as a lawyer, and it was practiced, for example, by Saints Basil the Great, Ambrose of Milan, Sulpicius Severus and other celebrities of that time. This activity immediately introduced John into the stormy cycle of life, and he came face to face with that world of untruths, intrigues, insults and oppression, enmity and lies, tears and gloating, which make up the everyday life of people and which he did not know in the peaceful home of his pious mother. This reverse side of life, although it disgusted his unspoiled soul, nevertheless gave him the opportunity to become acquainted with that abyss of untruths and vice, which is often hidden behind lies and hypocrisy, but appears in all its ugliness at the trial, and it was precisely this judicial activity that later gave John the opportunity to portray vices with such mercilessness, which, exposing them in all their vileness, thereby aroused an involuntary disgust for them. Law, at the same time, accustomed him to public speaking, and he immediately discovered such brilliant success in this field that his old teacher Livanius involuntarily admired him. The young lawyer obviously had a brilliant future ahead of him: his oratory gained him wide fame, which, while giving him abundant funds, at the same time opened the way to the highest government positions. From among the most talented lawyers who had gained a name for themselves in the courts, the government invited those who were to administer the provinces, and John, following this path, could gradually reach the highest positions - subprefect, prefect, patrician and consul, with which was associated the title “famous” - illustris. This could not help but captivate the young man, who had just looked out into the wide light of God, especially since all sorts of social pleasures and entertainment were inseparable from this life. A man of society had to visit theaters and circuses and, willy-nilly, indulge in those hobbies and passions with which secular people tried to fill the emptiness of their lives. And John, indeed, with his young friends and comrades visited these places of entertainment, but it was here that his unspoiled nature most of all rebelled against such emptiness. Both lawyering and these entertainments showed him with irresistible clarity all the emptiness and lies of such a life, and he saw how far this real world with its untruths and evils, with its passions and vices, is from the divine ideal that seemed to him when, in his own favorite expression, having watered his soul from the pure source of the Holy Scriptures, he entered the field of life with an immaculate heart. His soul could not withstand this test, and he decided to break all ties with the world of lies and untruths in order to devote himself entirely to the service of God, which became the need of his soul. This beneficial revolution was greatly facilitated by one of his closest friends and peers, Vasily. (This Basil should not be confused with St. Basil the Great of Caesarea, who was much older than John and already occupied a high position when the latter was still a youth.) John spoke enthusiastically about the friendship that connected him with him even in adolescence. “I had many friends,” he says at the beginning of his book “On the Priesthood,” “sincere and faithful, who knew and strictly observed the laws of friendship, but out of many, one surpassed all others in his love for me. He was always my inseparable companion: we studied the same sciences and had the same teachers; they practiced eloquence with the same eagerness and zeal and had the same desires stemming from the same activities.” But a shadow of division lay between the friends. When John devoted himself to secular social life, his friend Vasily devoted himself to “true wisdom,” i.e. accepted monasticism. The example of his friend could not help but influence John, and although for some time he still indulged in worldly dreams and hobbies, the other side of worldly life he saw struck him so much that he began to gradually free himself from the storm of life, again became close to Vasily, who did not fail to exert on him all the good influence that true friendship is capable of, and John decided to leave this miserable, vain world with its evils and endless worries in order to devote himself entirely to God and true wisdom. The friend was deeply rejoiced at this change in the life of his companion, and their intention to work together in the field of monastic life was ready to come true. But unexpectedly an important obstacle was encountered, namely from the pious Anfusa. Having raised her son and set him on the path of life, she achieved the goal of her many years of care and, as a mother, of course, rejoiced at the success of her son. True, she could not help but worry at the sight of how her young son gave himself up to the storm of life, and therefore, in her own words, she was daily subjected to a thousand fears for him, but she was consoled by the fact that the ardor of youth would pass, and her beloved son, having reached the age of a perfect husband, would at the same time come to the measure of the age of Christ and become worthy in public life of both his position and the Christian title. What sorrow struck her tender maternal heart when she learned that her beloved John had decided to enter the monastic life! All her hopes were shattered into dust, and she could not bear it. Calling upon all the power of persuasiveness of her maternal love, she began to beg him with tears not to plunge her into a second widowhood, and these tears could not help but shake his decision. He abandoned his idea and remained in his mother’s house, although now he was completely alien to all worldly hobbies and completely devoted himself to deeds of piety, studying the Holy Scriptures, which forever became the main source that fed his thirsty soul. Together with Basil, they attended a special ascetic school, where the Holy Scriptures were taught by the most famous presbyter teachers of that time, Flavian and Diodorus, and these pious teachers, and especially Diodorus, finally strengthened him in the idea of ​​dedicating himself entirely to God. Probably through this school, and perhaps even earlier, John became close to the pious Bishop Meletius, who, drawing attention to the gifted and pious young man, tied him to himself and performed the holy Sacrament of Baptism on him. At this time John was about 22 years old (369). The reason why his baptism was delayed for so long is partly explained by the custom of that time - to postpone baptism until adulthood, when all the passions of youth have passed, and also, probably, by the circumstances of the time. The Antiochian church at this time was overwhelmed by sad unrest caused by the Arians. Having seized power into their own hands, they boldly and strongly oppressed the Orthodox, moreover, sowing discord among themselves, so that their pious bishop Meletius was expelled several times. This was the situation in the early years of John’s childhood and continued at intervals for more than twenty years. Therefore, it is quite natural that Anfusa, deeply devoted to the Orthodox Church, had enough reason to postpone the baptism of her son, so as not to become an accomplice of a destructive heresy. Now the turmoil had subsided a little, Bishop Meletius could return to Antioch and again took his throne, and the Christians of Antioch could be baptized with a clear conscience and safely. Baptism had a profound effect on John - he devoted himself wholeheartedly to the deeds of piety. Archpastor Meletius, noticing his pious inclinations, elevated him to the position of reader, which gave him the opportunity to fully satisfy his love of reading the Holy Scriptures. In order to fully concentrate on this exercise, John even took on himself a vow of abstinence in speech, and the recent lawyer and speaker became almost silent: he refrained from all idle talk and jokes and thereby accumulated in himself the spiritual strength that he so needed later. Meanwhile, unrest began again in Antioch: the Arians, using the assistance of Emperor Valens, again began to oppress the Orthodox, and Meletius was exiled to prison. The situation of the Orthodox in general was difficult, and the ministers of the Church in particular. John had a misfortune: his pious mother Anfusa died. Now, left completely alone, he decided to completely put an end to this sinful world, full of all sorts of troubles, worries and sorrows, and retire to the desert - for a hermit’s life. His friend Vasily triumphed and rejoiced for his peer, and both of them tried to convert as many friends and comrades of their youth as possible to this true wisdom. Burning with zeal for spiritual asceticism, John was therefore all the more upset when he learned that one of his friends, Theodore, who had recently devoted himself to true wisdom and strived for asceticism, changed his mind and, carried away by his love for a certain Hermione, was planning to leave his hermitage and marry his beloved. Extremely upset by this, John wrote to his friend two extremely strong and eloquent admonitions, in which, mourning the fall of his friend and depicting the vanity of the world with its charms, he called on Theodore to abandon his vain thoughts and return to wisdom. The exhortations, this was his first Christian edifying creation, had force, and Theodore repented of his weakness and returned to monastic life. The young friends, with all the fervor of their youth, devoted themselves to spiritual exploits, and John now “competed” with his friend Basil in matters of piety: striving himself, he encouraged others to exploits in deed and word, arousing in the lazy the desire for heaven - through the mortification of their flesh and the enslavement of its spirit. The rumor about their extraordinary asceticism spread throughout the surrounding area, and those suffering in spirit and body flocked to them from everywhere and received healing. Around this time, John wrote his two words “On Contrition” to the monks Demetrius and Stelekhios, teaching in them a lesson of consolation to all those who are spiritually suffering and lamenting their sins. The Orthodox residents of Antioch were amazed at the exploits of the young monks, and even the council of bishops came to the idea of ​​how good it would be to place them closer to the Church, which then needed selfless shepherds. And then a rumor spread that a plan had already been drawn up to take both of them, John and Basil, and ordain them bishops. In those troubled times, such cases were not uncommon; young people were also elevated to the rank of bishop if they turned out to be worthy of this rank in their intelligence and piety. The honor was great, but this news greatly amazed and alarmed John. This is why he retired to the desert in order to save his soul in solitude - away from the worries of this world, and now they again want to place him among these worries and, moreover, in such a high rank that he did not even dare to think about. Therefore, he decided to evade this election one way or another, and since his friend Vasily turned out to be more inclined to God’s pre-election, he even deliberately assisted him in this, and he himself hid in the desert. Basil, indeed, was ordained a bishop, and when, having learned about his friend’s decision, he began to complain about him, Reader John, to justify himself and to console his comrade, wrote the famous book “Six Words about the Priesthood,” in which he outlined all the sublimity and difficulty of pastoral ministry. This book has forever become an indispensable guide for every shepherd of souls, and it is from it that all true shepherds who rule the word of truth well have drawn and still draw spiritual courage and strength. Basil, having calmed down from his excitement, zealously devoted himself to his archpastoral service and, as Bishop of Rafansky, subsequently participated in the Second Ecumenical Council in 381. Meanwhile, John, having escaped the episcopacy, devoted himself even more strongly to his spiritual asceticism. In this troubled time, when there was a heavy uncertainty in political life, and the destructive domination of the Arians continued in the church, many pious people preferred for the best to leave this miserable world with its unrest, unrest and disasters, in order to find complete peace for themselves in the desert. There, in silent solitude, among the eternally beautiful nature, all the evils of this world fell silent and the hermits, with a lightened heart, cared about the salvation of their souls. Therefore, the surrounding mountains of Antioch were filled with hermits, and a whole community was formed from them, which led a life full of spiritual exploits. These were the true warriors of Christ, constantly standing guard against the attacks of the flesh. Already at midnight they rose to pray and filled the desert mountains with harmonious psalmody. Having rested a little, they then got up again at sunrise and performed Matins, after which each occupied himself in his cell with reading the Holy Scriptures or copying the sacred books. During the day, at certain hours, they again gathered for common prayer, called hours, and in the intervals they engaged in various types of labor, which earned themselves meager food. According to the vow of non-covetousness, everything was common to them, as in the times of the apostles, so that the words themselves were unknown - mine and yours. The life of these ascetics was difficult and harsh, but they found full reward in the spiritual peace that settled within them, delighting them with the hope of God’s mercy and the joy of the grace that fell upon them from above. John spent four years in this monastic monastery (375–378), and the harsh life only further intensified his zeal for asceticism. True, for him, who was brought up in contentment, under the loving care of his mother, in a rich house, where all his needs were satisfied by servants, it was more difficult than for anyone to endure all the hardships of a hermit’s life in this harsh monastery of ascetics. And indeed, he himself was afraid of the labors ahead of him, especially since, due to his very physical weakness, he might not be able to withstand such severe asceticism. But, weak in body, he was powerful in spirit and not only overcame all the difficulties of monastic life, but at the same time he fought against the dangerous spirit of the times, rising against monasticism. This spirit hostile to monasticism began with the accession of Emperor Valens. Carried away by the networks of the Arians, Valens turned out to be a cruel enemy of the Orthodox and began a merciless persecution against them. Knowing that the main stronghold of Orthodoxy is monasticism, he directed all his rage against the monks. By his order, the famous Nitrian monasteries were destroyed, and this persecution ended with the barbaric burning of 24 Orthodox shepherds in Nicomedia. Even the pagans were indignant at such inhumanity, but, nevertheless, there were many who, taking advantage of the emperor’s mood, themselves contributed to him, putting up all sorts of obstacles for persons who wanted to accept the monastic life and presenting the monks as enemies of the fatherland and the state. And in this difficult time, John acted as a champion of monasticism and wrote the words “To those who are at enmity against those who attract to monastic life.” In them he poured out all the fervor of his monastic heart and eloquently proved what happiness the soul finds in the desert - in a solitary conversation with God. Under the same impression, he wrote a short discussion entitled “Comparison of royal power, wealth and advantages with the true and Christian wisdom of monastic life.” These creations constitute an inexhaustible source of edification for monks and those striving for monasticism. Edifying others, John treated himself even more strictly and, not satisfied with the exploits of the cenobitic monastery, finally withdrew from it in order to subject his flesh to even more severe tests through a solitary life in a cave. He felt within himself the power of Elijah or John the Baptist and, like them, he strove into the desert, so that there, far from the world, he could prepare himself for the great service that lay ahead of him. Due to his zeal for asceticism, he was ready to settle in the desert forever, but God’s Providence decided otherwise. Such a great lamp should not have been kept hidden, in the desert and in a cave, but it was necessary to shine brightly for everyone in the church candlestick. Severe asceticism upset John's health, and he, of necessity, had to leave the desert and return to Antioch. There he was joyfully greeted by Blessed Meletios and ordained him to the rank of deacon. Having previously declined the high rank of bishop, John now humbly accepted the rank of deacon (380), and from that time a new period began in his life. The ministry of John Chrysostom as a deacon and presbyter in Antioch (381–398) Having accepted the sacred rank of deaconry, John again returned to the world, but no longer as its slave, but as an active figure in it. In the days of his youth, he was carried away by the various delights and pleasures of ordinary worldly life; Now, as a minister of the Church, he came out to fight these delights and, filled with spiritual courage, began to fulfill his ministry with zeal. The duties of a deacon at that time were very complex. In addition to fulfilling the bishop's instructions and serving in the church, he had to especially take care of the various needs of the weak and poor Christians. He had to visit the sick and console the dying, help the poor and find funds for their maintenance. The position was difficult, requiring complete selflessness and love, but at the same time it was also an excellent school for preparing for the highest pastoral service. In the desert, John, caring about the salvation of his own soul and not seeing all the infirmities and disasters depressing suffering humanity, could weaken in his love for mankind, since, without seeing the unfortunate in front of him, it is not difficult to completely forget about them. His current service again placed him in the midst of real life and opened before his eyes this whole world, full of tears and suffering. And earlier, as a lawyer, he could get acquainted with the other side of worldly life; but there his very occupation prompted him to take the side of the strong and rich in their litigation with the weak and poor; now he acted as an insurmountable defender of these latter, and he often had to fight the greed of the rich, tame their predatory attacks on the meager treasury of the poor, protect the disadvantaged from the oppression of greedy and heartless officials, and thus, if possible, make the lives of those toiling and burdened, whom the Savior Christ especially called to himself, easier. Thus, John underwent a double upbringing: upbringing in the desert, which strengthened his spirit and purified his heart, and upbringing in public life, which shows people in their weaknesses, misfortunes, untruths and vices. The picture is sad, but familiarity with it was necessary for him in the service ahead of him, and it precisely made him into the true shepherd and benefactor of the suffering that he later became. The first silver he gave to the poor was his own, and from that time until his death he called nothing his own, and considered everything he had to belong to the poor. The rank of deaconry was not associated with church teaching, which belonged to the presbyters, and the very duties of this primarily charitable ministry did not provide time and opportunity for such teaching. But without speaking with verbal teaching, John did not abandon written teaching, and several of his remarkable reasonings date back to this time, such as “Three Words to the Ascetic Stagirius,” in which he gave one of the friends of his youth consolation in the despondency that had overwhelmed him, proving that everything in human life is under the guidance of God’s Providence, and therefore everything is directed for the better and precisely to the shame of the original misanthrope - the devil, as well as discourses “On Virginity” and “To the Young Widow”. Both of these reasonings are filled with the most sublime thoughts, and the latter is all the more heartfelt because in it John could refer to the example of his own mother, who found sufficient consolation in widowhood, completely devoting herself to maternal care for the worthy upbringing of her son. In all these discussions, John acted as a strict zealot for bodily purity, and they contain everything that can serve to strengthen the spirit in the fight against the temptations of the flesh. Finally, one can think that at this time the book “On the Priesthood” was published in its final form, which, at first written only for Vasily’s friend and circulated in a close circle of friends, was now published for the edification of all ministers of the Church and all Christians in general. John served as a deacon for five years. Meanwhile, the pious Bishop Meletius ended his life full of trials, and in his place, Presbyter Flavian, respected by everyone for his pastoral teaching, was elected. The new bishop had long known John, who was his student at the Antiochian school, and, seeing in him a most useful figure for the Church, elevated him to the rank of presbyter (386). John was at this time about 39 years old, and he, having reached the age of a perfect man, with full consciousness of the importance of his ministry, entered into the exercise of his office. He had a lot of work ahead of him. If anywhere, then it was in Antioch that shepherds were needed who would have enough courage and zeal to fight against the many obstacles to a truly Christian life. Antioch was one of the largest and richest cities in the East. At this time, there were up to 200 thousand souls in it, of which one half were pagans and Jews, and the other half were Christians. Paganism, which was living out its days, had its most prominent representatives here, who, not wanting to recognize the obviously triumphant victory of Christianity, tried to put up pitiful scraps of their learning and philosophy against it and at the same time, imperceptibly renew paganism itself, interpreting it in a more sublime sense. The pagan schools were taught by famous rhetoricians and philosophers of that time, from whom even Christians studied, and many of the latter could not help but become infected with the views of their teachers. On the other hand, the Jews, strong with their wealth and industry, kept the population in their hands and, as haters of Christianity, were not averse to sometimes entering into an alliance even with pagans in order, one way or another, to strike at the “religion of the Cross” that they hated. Then the very common life of Christians with pagans and Jews, with whom they had to be connected by numerous business, trade and industrial interests, naturally left a kind of stamp on them, and they could no longer have that integrity and spontaneity of religious mood that exists in a city inhabited only by Christians. A huge part of them were still semi-pagans. They accepted Christianity as a religion, followed its external instructions and regulations, but were still little imbued with its spirit and in life there were many morals and customs that echoed paganism. Under the influence of such a mixture of beliefs, teachers constantly appeared among Christians who wanted to comprehend and remake Christianity with their own minds, like pagan philosophers and rhetoricians. Hence, disputes and strife arose between different teachers, various directions and parties were formed, which often waged a fierce struggle among themselves, bringing extreme turmoil into church life. Some teachers directly acted as preachers of heresies and various errors, became the leaders of schisms, and all this together made the Antiochian church like a ship, tossed by incessant winds. There were representatives of various heresies - Arians, Anomeans, and Gnostics in their various forms, there were leaders of schisms, and the shepherds of the Church needed to fight all these enemies of the true faith. If religion was not pure, then morality could not be high. Of course, there were highly pious people, fully worthy of their title, but the majority led a semi-pagan life, indulged in passions and all kinds of amusements indecent for Christians. For them, theaters or circuses were more attractive than churches. And at the same time, there was little Christian love for others. As in general in large industrial cities, especially in ancient times, the most miserable poverty huddled next to countless riches; next to the magnificent palaces and chambers of the rich, who did not know how and with what to satisfy their lusts, lived the poor, who were unsure of the future and often died from hunger and disease. From here, naturally, various social unrest arose, and if the rich tried to satisfy their greed by all kinds of oppression of the poor, then the latter, in turn, at every opportunity tried to take revenge on their oppressors, and Antioch was repeatedly a witness to bloody riots, in which all the wildest passions were played out to an extraordinary degree. Valiant shepherds were needed to steer such a troubled ship of the Church. This is exactly what John was. Himself a native of Antioch, he knew his hometown with all its good and bad sides, he knew not only by appearance, but also penetrated into all the secrets of its inner life. There could not have been a better shepherd for Antioch. The pious Bishop Flavian was fully aware of this and, valuing his student as an irreplaceable assistant, he granted him the widest freedom of activity and mainly freedom of preaching. In the rank of deacon, John was engaged only in charitable affairs; now he acted as a church teacher, and immediately discovered his extraordinary talents. The very first sermon he preached, precisely on the occasion of his ordination to the rank of presbyter, made an indelible impression on the large gathering of worshipers who arrived at the celebration of the ordination of their beloved deacon. But this sermon rather spoke about the modesty and extraordinary humility of the preacher than about his merits, but the further, the more the talent of the new preacher developed, and throughout Antioch, greedy for all sorts of news and rumors, word quickly spread that a preacher had appeared who was worth listening to. And the church where he served and preached was always filled with listeners who listened to John’s inspired speeches with amazement and delight. The Antiochians loved eloquence and therefore highly valued rhetoricians like Livanius. But now they heard an orator who far surpassed even this famous rhetorician, and surpassed him in the very power and persuasiveness of his speech. Livanius, with his pompous eloquence, artificial turns of phrase and sonorous phrases, could captivate and delight the ear, but did not touch the heart. On the contrary, his student, without resorting to any artificial verbiage and without being carried away by the ringing of phrases, amazed with the extraordinary vitality of his speech: every word of his breathed with strength and life, because it was taken from a reality known to everyone and explained with examples that were equally understandable to both a highly educated patrician and the very last farmer. Such sermons had never before been heard in Antioch, and its inhabitants listened with amazement to the words of the preacher, who completely captured their hearts, so that they either trembled at the depiction of the horrors of God’s wrath, or rejoiced with the hope of infinite mercy. When the inspired preacher exposed the vices of his city - he castigated the greed and unmercifulness of the rich, the baseness and rebellion of the poor, the vanity and predation of officials, the emptiness and depravity of women, then those standing in the church could not help but blush and shudder from the consciousness of their depravity, when he concluded his word with a call to repentance and correction, with the promise of higher help in this holy matter, then the listeners did not stood up and interrupted the preacher's speech with deafening applause. The Antiochians were especially surprised by the fact that John did not read his sermons, pronounced them from the fullness of his heart, and conducted lively oral conversations with his listeners. Never before had anything like this happened in Antioch, and no one had ever preached the word of God without books or a scroll. John was the first such extraordinary preacher. Such grace flowed from his lips that his listeners could neither be amazed nor satiated by his conversations. Therefore, cursive writers did not fail to appear in the church, taking notes after the preacher, and passing on or selling their notes to numerous people who wanted it. His sermons became the subject of general conversation, and they were read even at feasts and in marketplaces, and many memorized them. When it became known that John would conduct a conversation, the whole city began to move: merchants left their trade, builders - their construction, lawyers - their courts, artisans - their crafts, and everyone rushed to the church, so listening to John was considered a special happiness, and everyone competed in coming up with words of praise to him: some called him “the mouth of God and Christ,” others sweet-talking, others - mellifluous, and thus already at this time the voice of the people, as the voice of God, was preparing for him that title - Chrysostom, under which his name is immortalized in history and the Church of Christ. Tradition has also preserved the very incident in which John was first called Chrysostom. Not limiting himself to moral instructions, John sometimes spoke with dogmatic teachings about the sublime truths of religion and often delved into such theological wisdom that turned out to be inaccessible to many listeners. On one such occasion, one simple woman, listening with reverence to the great preacher, could not penetrate the meaning of these words, sweet to the ear, and with purely feminine impatience she shouted to him from among the people: “Spiritual Teacher, or better to say, John Chrysostom, you have deepened the well of your holy teaching so much that our short minds cannot comprehend it!” The people picked up the name expressed by the woman and, seeing in it an indication of God, decided to call their beloved preacher Chrysostom. This incident, by the way, did not remain without influence on John himself. He became convinced that it was useless to address the people with “cunningly woven words,” and after that he always tried to decorate his conversations with simple and moralizing words, so that even the simplest listener could understand him and receive spiritual benefit. John's sermons had all the more power and significance because his gift of speech was also combined with the gift of miracles, so that many sick people received from him not only spiritual consolation, but also physical healing. If in general John loved to preach the word of God, so that not a week passed during which he would not have one conversation or another, and sometimes he preached two or three times a week, then, on special occasions, his zeal intensified even more and his inspiration flared up even more. The first years of his presbytery service included the celebration of the memory of the highly venerable Archbishop of Antioch Meletios. He died in 381 in Constantinople, and at the same time his ashes were transported to Antioch, but due to unfavorable circumstances, only after five years did the Antiochians have the opportunity to properly honor the memory of their revered saint. And this solemn honoring, in all likelihood, took place under the influence of John himself, who deeply revered the memory of Meletius as an archpastor. The honoring took place in the first year of John’s presbyteral ministry, and on the occasion of this celebration he delivered a speech of praise, in which, with a genuine sense of reverence for the memory of the deceased archpastor, he depicted his significance for the Church, as well as the love of his flock for their pious archpastor: a great saint, and, having departed from this world, continued to live with his flock. The speech made an indelible impression on everyone, and the name of the sweet-voiced preacher became inseparable from the name of the Antiochian saint. But soon the Antiochians were to become even more convinced of what a great shepherd they had in the person of John. Two years of his pastoral ministry in Antioch passed. Lent of 388 was approaching. The population of Antioch had long been distinguished by rebellion, and popular passions more than once flared up with terrible force. The same thing happened now, and on an extraordinary scale. The empire had already enjoyed peace for almost 10 years under the wise leadership of Theodosius, who, having ascended the throne under the most difficult circumstances, when barbarians threatened from everywhere, with his courage managed to ensure peace and improve the state. He raised his son Arcadius to the rank of Augustus, and when the fifth anniversary of this important event for his son approached, he decided to celebrate it in the most solemn way throughout the empire, adding to this a celebration in honor of the tenth anniversary of his own reign (although there was still a year left before its fulfillment). Such festivities were usually associated with large expenses, since generous gifts of five gold pieces per person were distributed to all troops. In order not to burden the state treasury, Theodosius decided to make do with collections from large, rich cities, which during his peaceful reign had accumulated enormous wealth. But these cities turned out to be the least grateful and had no desire at all to bear the costs of the national celebration. Alexandria was the first to rebel against the imperial edict, followed by Antioch. When the imperial edict on the tax was read in Antioch, the local senators, forgetting their dignity, jumped up from their seats and, running into the street, began shouting that the new tax would ruin Antioch and force its inhabitants to sell their property, their wives and children. These complaints fell like sparks on flammable material. In Antioch, as in all large cities, there were a mass of homeless wandering people who were ready to take advantage of any opportunity to rebel, and they immediately began to move, and the entire population became agitated after them. The excited crowd first went to the house of Bishop Flavian to ask him to petition for the abolition of the tax; but since he was not at home, the ever-increasing crowd began to riot in the city, destroyed one of the richest public baths and then, with furious shouts, moved to the house of the governor, or praetor. The ruler, unexpectedly captured by this rebellion, considered it best to hide through the secret doors of the house, and the crowd broke into the praetorium itself. Then a majestic sight opened before her eyes: in the most prominent places silently stood statues of Emperor Theodosius himself, his wife (already deceased) Empress Flacilla, their son Arcadius and other members of the imperial house. The crowd felt an involuntary reverence for these silent images of imperial grandeur, and the more prudent began to exhort the people to disperse. But the matter was ruined by several naughty boys who began to throw stones at these statues, and when one of the naughty boys accurately hit one of the statues, the blow of the stone seemed to serve as a signal for a new explosion of violence in the crowd. "Down with tyrants!" - the crowd roared, and with ferocious screams they began to break and smash the imperial statues, which dragged through the streets with various mockeries and, disfigured, were thrown into the Orontes River. But as soon as all this was accomplished, the people themselves came to their senses and fell into terrible despondency, rightly expecting severe punishment. The crime was truly great. Emperor Theodosius could forgive everything except the insult inflicted on his beloved, mourned by him, wife Flacilla. The Antiochians could well have expected terrible vengeance from the offended emperor. He could burn and destroy Antioch, and mercilessly execute its inhabitants or sell them into slavery. Just the thought of what had happened filled everyone with horror and numbness. But what to do now? Who can protect the Antiochians from the vengeance they deserve? No one but God, and the people rushed into the church crying, wringing their hands and beating their chests in despair. More than ever, he needed a word of consolation, and everyone was eager to hear it from the lips of John. The valiant shepherd did not remain indifferent to the plight of his flock, but the crime committed was so great that even his golden lips closed before him. Struck by inexpressible grief, he remained silent for a week, as if wanting to give the people's soul a deeper sense of all the madness and sinfulness of the rampage he had committed. Finally, already on Saturday or Sunday of the raw week, with deep sadness on his brow, he appeared to the people and did not fail to address them with words of pastoral consolation and edification, and now, more than ever, the people felt all the sweetness of the inspired speeches of their beloved sweet-talking preacher. “What should I say or what should I talk about? - he began amid the sighs and tears of those gathered. – Now is the time for tears, not speech; sobs, not words; prayers, not sermons. The deed is so great, the wound is incurable, the ulcer is so deep that it is beyond any medicine and requires the highest help. Let me mourn the present disaster. For seven days I was silent, like Job’s friends: let me now open my lips and mourn this common calamity. Who wished harm on us, beloved? Who envied us? Where does this change come from? There was nothing more glorious than our city; now nothing became more pity for him. The people, so quiet and meek, always submissive to the affairs of the rulers, now suddenly became furious, so that they committed such riots that it is indecent to even talk about. I cry and sob now not because of the importance of the threatened punishment, but because of the extreme madness of what was done. My voice is interrupted by crying, I can barely open my lips, move my tongue and pronounce words...” The cries of the people and especially women and children interrupted and drowned out these stunning words of Chrysostom. But he did not leave his flock in this desperate state and taught them words of consolation, with which he wiped away bitter tears, consoled the pain of their hearts and calmed everyone with hope in God’s mercy. You must always rely on God in everything. “A Christian,” he said, “must differ from the infidels and, encouraged by hope for the future, stand above the attack of human evils. So, beloved, stop despairing. We ourselves do not care so much about our salvation as God, who created us, cares about us.” With a relieved heart, the people went home. Meanwhile, his elderly archpastor was already taking care of him. When messengers galloped from Antioch to Constantinople with news of the rebellion and with their stories could set the emperor up for the most terrible, merciless vengeance, the elderly Bishop Flavian decided to do everything possible to soften the royal anger. He was already advanced in age and weak in body; but, despite this, he personally went to the capital to console the emperor’s anger with his petition. Unfortunately, deep snow delayed him in the Taurus Mountains, and the messengers arrived before him; but he did not lose heart and, overcoming all obstacles and difficulties, continued on his way until, with a trembling heart, he arrived in the capital. No one could guess how this petition of the loving, selfless elder archpastor would end. Therefore, the people were in an unusually painful state, and it was in this terrible, sorrowful time that John was the true comforter of the suffering people. Day after day, almost continuously for 22 days, he spoke with words of edification and consolation before his unfortunate flock, and the people listened with reverent attention to their golden-mouthed shepherd, who in his famous “Conversations on Statues” either with extraordinary vividness depicted the horrors and riots he experienced, arousing shame and indignation among the people at his own madness and causing tears of repentance, then with genuine features painted the infinity of God's mercy, thereby awakening the sweet hope of mercy, and each time the people left the church with more and more purified and calmed hearts, sending thanks to the Lord God for the immeasurable happiness of having such a great and truly good shepherd-preacher. John continued his conversations with the people of Antioch throughout almost the entire Lent. Since the minds of everyone were occupied with the same question, how would the elderly archpastor arrive in the capital, how would the emperor receive him and what would be the outcome of his petition, then the golden-mouthed preacher was entirely occupied with these same thoughts, and every news either about Flavian’s journey or about his petition served as the starting point for his conversations, which were therefore listened to by everyone with a trembling heart and deep attention. Meanwhile, the denouement was approaching. The messengers got ahead of the elderly Flavian and, before him, conveyed to the emperor the news of the rebellion and the insult inflicted on him. The emperor immediately sent special authorized dignitaries to carry out the strictest investigation, and these dignitaries had already arrived in the city and began not only to carry out an investigation, but also to carry out reprisals. The city was declared deprived of the rights and benefits assigned to it, numerous arrests were made of the perpetrators, of whom there were so many that there was no room for them in the dungeons, and they were locked in a huge building without a roof. The entire population fell into despondency and despair and, apparently, there was no hope of salvation from anywhere. But when the plenipotentiary dignitaries were driving to the place of their public meeting on the third day of their reprisal, their road was blocked by some strange people with emaciated faces. These were the surrounding hermits who, having heard about the terrible disaster that befell Antioch, left their caves and came to the city to provide all possible assistance to the unfortunate. Having nothing to do with this sinful world and fearing no one but God, they boldly stood before the dignitaries and begged them to grant mercy and forgiveness to Antioch. One of them, the little weak old man Macedonius, acted and spoke especially fearlessly. Grabbing the cloak of one of the dignitaries, he forced him off his horse and, when he got off, began to convince him and the other plenipotentiary to ask the emperor for mercy and forgiveness for the unfortunate city. After all, the emperor is a man, and he can understand how dangerous it is for a man to destroy people like him. Will he be able to resurrect those who fall victim to his wrath? Let him remember the wrath of God. The dignitaries were amazed by these words of the extraordinary hermit, deeply revered by the people, and, promising to intercede with the emperor, they moved further to the praetorium, where crowds of people sentenced to death were already awaiting them with trepidation. But then they encountered a new obstacle: at the very gates of the praetorium they were met by a host of clergy, among whom John Chrysostom was in the most prominent place, and these true shepherds declared that they would not allow the dignitaries into the praetorium until they received promises from them to pardon the condemned; they can only enter the praetorium through their corpses. They, either with humble prayers or threats of the terrible wrath of God, so moved the officials that they said forgiveness, the rumor of which instantly spread throughout the huge crowd of people, and everyone, both shepherds and flocks, thanked them with tears of joy for such mercy. One of the dignitaries, the noble Caesarius, immediately went to Constantinople to report everything that had happened and to intercede with the emperor on behalf of the unfortunate city. When he hastily rode to the capital, there at that time the elderly Flavian made every effort to achieve an audience with the emperor and ask for mercy for his criminal flock, but his efforts remained in vain. The angry emperor did not want to hear about the elder bishop’s petition for the criminal city and did not give an audience. The deeply distressed archpastor was already despairing of the success of his cause, when Caesarius arrived and, having explained the state of affairs to the emperor, persuaded him to have mercy on the foolish city, which had already suffered enough punishment for its madness. The emperor hesitated and did not give a final decision. But it was then that Flavian was admitted to him, who finally softened the sovereign’s anger. Humbly presenting himself before the emperor, he stood at a distance with a deeply dejected look and did not dare raise his eyes. The sight of the venerable archpastor, so suffering for his flock, touched the kind heart of Theodosius: he himself approached the bishop and, already more excited than in a stern voice, began to reproach the Antiochians for ingratitude for all the numerous rights and advantages that were given to them. Flavian, with deep emotion, but at the same time with self-control, explained to the emperor all the folly of the actions of the thoughtless mob, which deserves pity more than anger, and asked for mercy for his unfortunate city. The Emperor, of course, can burn and destroy Antioch, and it is indeed worthy of even more severe punishment; but he must remember that above him there is a Heavenly King, Who commanded mutual mercy to all people, saying: “If you forgive people their sins, then God will forgive you your sins.” The speech of the elderly bishop made a strong impression on the emperor. His heart softened, and he exclaimed that if the Lord of the world, who descended to earth and was crucified by those to whom He brought the greatest benefit, prayed to His Heavenly Father for His ardent enemies, saying: “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,” then all the more should people forgive the defilements inflicted on them. The emperor gave a complete pardon to the city and hurried Flavian to quickly go to Antioch and, with his news of the pardon, bring the city out of its terrible state of fear for the future. The elder thanked the emperor for the Christian mercy shown to him and hastily set off with the good news, with which he arrived at Easter. If this bright holiday of redemption was generally joyful for Christians, now it was even more joyful and solemn for the Antiochians. The news of the pardon preceded Flavian, and when he approached the city, the entire population poured out to meet him, and he was solemnly brought to the city. The whole city rejoiced unspeakably at the valiant bishop, who so selflessly interceded for his people, but most of all John, who did not fail to utter an enthusiastic word on the occasion of the arrival of the dear archpastor. The event described is remarkable in many respects: it reveals in full force what influence Christianity had on softening the morals of that time. The outcome of this event weaves an unfading wreath on the foreheads of its main figures, and they were all Christians, shepherds and devotees of the Church of Christ: the intrepid elderly bishop, who was not afraid of either the difficulties of the long journey or the wrath of the emperor; selfless hermits who, leaving the silent deserts, came to the rebellious city to save human souls, and especially the greatest shepherd and teacher of this people, day after day, delivering wondrous conversations, which during this terrible time of languor and horror were tirelessly heard, either as threats of a righteous judge, or as the caresses of a deeply loving father, and made a stunning, indelible impression on hundreds of thousands of the population. And these speeches resonated in the hearts of not only Christians, but also pagans. On the occasion of the unrest, public baths, theaters and other places of pleasure and entertainment were closed; Only Christian churches were open, and in one of them the speech of a sweet-tongued preacher constantly flowed like a golden stream. If before the pagans, out of love for eloquence, were not averse to listening to the famous Christian teacher, whom the famous rhetorician Livanius once admired, now, in times of public disaster, they went en masse to listen to Chrysostom, in the hope of finding consolation for their suffering soul. And then they listened in amazement as the Christian preacher with irresistible force exposed the vices and follies that distinguished their large and dissolute city, calling everyone to repentance and correction. From the words of the preacher, the pagans were undoubtedly convinced of how vain and fleeting earthly honors and riches are, how they are unable to satisfy the demands of the heart and save life in times of danger and disaster, and how much higher is the Christian hope, which places the goal and highest good of life in the undying treasures of the afterlife. They heard here that virtue is the only unperishable good and sin is the only real evil, that for a virtuous person death is only a transition to a happier or more blissful life, and that the disasters of the earth are useful in that they purify and elevate souls. And this world, in which there is so much vanity and disasters of all kinds, received new interest in their eyes when they heard from the famous Christian preacher that there is an eternal and omnipotent Creator, who, like a father, cares for all people, extending His providence even to the point that without His will a hair does not fall from the head, and before them the whole superiority of the Christian faith over their gloomy pagan superstition, which did not give a person has enlightenment in life and proper moral strength for correction. Then many of these involuntary listeners of Chrysostom, fully convinced of the vanity of their idolatry, accepted the faith of Christ and were baptized, and Chrysostom joyfully reports that soon after the return of Flavian, he was much occupied with “confirming in the faith those who, as a result of the disaster, came to their senses and abandoned pagan error.” The terrible events experienced by Antioch required so much extraordinary stress from the selfless shepherd that it even had an adverse effect on his health, and he was ill for some time; but having recovered from his illness, he again took up his pastoral ministry with the same zeal, and Antioch enjoyed the inspired teaching of its golden-mouthed presbyter-preacher for another ten years. Not only from week to week, but, one might say, from day to day, the Antioch Church had the great happiness of listening to the conversations of the shepherd, who did not tire in his pastoral service and, having himself deeply studied the books of Holy Scripture, taught his listeners in it, revealing to them the secrets of God’s wonderful economy about the salvation of people. Possessing an amazing ability to respond to all phenomena of social life and to all the movements of the human soul, John did not ignore a single outstanding event from his time or phenomenon in the life around him, and as soon as something happened that led the people into embarrassment or confusion, into fear or despondency, John immediately spoke with his word, and the people rushed in masses to listen to him in the confidence that only his beloved shepherd John could dispel all fears and bewilderments and establish desired peace of mind. Whether there was one of those earthquakes that so often visited Antioch, whether pagans and Jews were rioting, whether there was a division among the Orthodox themselves, whether the eternal question was raised about the relationship between rich and poor, masters and slaves, parents and children - John immediately responded to all these phenomena of current life, and that is why his conversations had a deeply vital character and were equally understandable to all classes of the population. As a result, a deep moral bond was formed between the shepherd and his flock, which represents an ever instructive example of what a true Christian shepherd can be for his flock. John himself depicts this connection with astonishing frankness and frankness, which sheds vivid light on the very nature of his personality and pastoral ministry in Antioch. One involuntarily recalls the saying of the Divine Chief Shepherd, Who, defining the ideal of relations between shepherds and their flock in the Church of God, said that “a good shepherd knows his sheep, and the sheep know him and listen to his voice.” In the history of the Christian Church there have been many shepherds who sought to implement this model in their lives and activities, but the most remarkable example of its implementation within the limits of human strength is represented by Saint John Chrysostom. Here we see a striking spectacle: the heart of the people, so to speak, lived an inseparable life with the heart of the shepherd, who devoted himself entirely to the good of his flock. Such a strong connection was established between them, such boundless love that, apparently, neither a shepherd without a people, nor a people without a shepherd could exist. It was enough for the shepherd, under the influence of natural fatigue or illness, to suspend his conversations or retire for several days outside the city to rest and pray in the desert, for the city to become sad, as if some great misfortune had struck it. But it was enough for John to appear again, and the city came to life again, joyful exclamations were heard everywhere, and it was as if a great holiday was approaching. For his part, the shepherd himself was worried about the same feelings, who also could not live without his flock. “I was only absent for one day,” he said upon returning from one short trip, “and it seemed to me that I had already been away from you for a whole year - I was so sad and bored! By the sorrow you have experienced, you can judge mine. When a small child is torn from his mother's breast or carried away, he spins and looks around, looking for her; so, when I too was torn from your midst, as from my mother’s breast, all my thoughts directed me towards this sacred gathering.” Another time, when due to illness he had to stay hopelessly in his house for several days, upon recovery he said: “Today, being again among you, I experience the same feeling as if I had returned from a long journey. When two friends can't see each other, what's the use if they even live in the same city? Without leaving my home, I was also alienated, as if a great distance separated me from you, because I could not talk with you... In my suffering, what depressed me most of all was that I could not take part in this beloved meeting, and now that I have recovered, I prefer the pleasure of freely enjoying your love to my health. The thirst of fever is never stronger than the desire to see our friends again when we have been deprived of them. As a feverish man thirsts for fresh water, so an absent friend thirsts for his friends.” In another circumstance, when John, depressed by tireless labor, went to rest and breathe the mountain air of the desert, letters flew to him from his flock, who begged him to return as soon as possible, and he returned, although his health would still require rest and strengthening. Ascending to his pulpit, he said: “Is it really true that you remembered me in my absence? As for me, I could not forget about you for a moment. Captivated by bodily beauty, everywhere they walk, they carry a favorite image in their thoughts; so we, captivated by the beauty of your souls, carried your image in our hearts everywhere. And just as painters, through the combination of colors, reproduce the appearance of objects, so we, imagining your zeal for our conversations, your love for preaching, your favor towards the preacher and all the goodness that distinguishes you, made from your virtues, like from paints, the image of your souls; contemplating him relieved the boredom of our absence. Sitting or standing, at rest or in motion, in the house or outside it, everywhere and always we were haunted by these thoughts; even our dreams themselves were occupied with your love, and during the night, as well as during the day, we fed on the sweetness of these memories, repeating the words of Solomon: “I sleep, but my heart watches...” (Song. 5:2). I gave in to your insistence, I preferred to return without recovering rather than, while waiting for my recovery, to experience your love... That’s why I got up and came to you.” This is truly a good shepherd, ready to lay down his life for his sheep! But voluntarily submitting to this extremely strong love of his flock and indulging it in this regard even to the point of neglecting his health, John did not miss the opportunity to reproach his listeners for frivolity and passion for the external beauties of speech, and not for its internal content, which required moral abstinence. When the listeners, delighted with the fascinating conversations of their favorite preacher, burst into thunderous applause, according to the custom of that time, John sternly told them: “I do not want your applause, nor this noise. My whole desire is that you, after listening silently to what I tell you, apply this instruction to life. These are the praises that I would like... You are not in the theater, nor in front of the actors, here is a spiritual school, and you must prove your obedience by your deeds. Only then will I consider myself rewarded for my efforts.” Of course, many did not like such reproaches, and there were people who were not even ashamed to revile the preacher and confuse the conscience of his flock. John had to spend a lot of time and labor fighting these evil people; but with boundless self-sacrifice he forgave all such slander when it concerned him personally. But his heart was struck with deep sorrow when, for one reason or another, his listeners lost interest in his conversations and became carried away by some new theatrical entertainment. Such phenomena often happened among this ardent, passionate, frivolous and active people, who quickly changed their mood and in one day could spoil what had been created over the years. No matter how dear the golden-talking preacher was to them, they missed him when they had not seen or heard him for several days; but it was enough to set up some extraordinary hippodrome in the theater with its exciting horse races, and the Antiochians left the churches and rushed to watch the dashing races. Such inconstancy and frivolity upset the great preacher to the extreme, and he repeatedly exclaimed with bitterness: “Am I really working in vain? Do I sow on stones or among thorns? I’m afraid that my efforts will lead to nothing.” Even more distressing was his irreverent behavior in church. “Can one say that the Church has become a theater! Women come here dressed with greater indecency and shamelessness than those who commit fornication. They also attract shameless people with them. If someone wants to seduce a woman, no place, I think, seems more convenient to him than church; and if anyone needs to sell or buy, the church seems more convenient to him than the square. They gossip here, they listen to gossip here more than anywhere else, and if you want to know the news, then here you will learn it more than at the courthouse or in the doctors' waiting room... Is this tolerable? Can we take it down? Every day I am tired and tormented so that you can take away useful edification from here, but you leave with more harm than benefit.” But the attack of indignation and anger immediately gave way to love and forgiveness, as soon as the preacher noticed the effect of his reproach. Unable to bear his own severity, he was already in a hurry to make amends for it and asked for forgiveness from his frivolous spiritual children. “I feel,” he said, “that I used too harsh reproaches. Forgive me. This happens to every sick soul. But I say this not from a hostile heart, but from concern for your loving soul. Therefore, I relax my severity.” There were cases when the inconstancy and frivolity of the Antiochians drove Chrysostom even more out of patience and he hurled thunders of righteous anger at them, but even among these peals of denunciation and reproaches, the dominant tone of love was always heard. The shepherd severely reproached his flock because he loved them, and they humbly endured his well-deserved reproaches, because she herself loved him. These were two friends, united by inextricable bonds of love and devotion. John’s serious and deep, as well as holy, love for his flock did not at all resemble that deceitful caressing of ambitious people and tribunes of the people, who intoxicate the crowd with their flattery in order to more easily subjugate it to the yoke of their autocracy. John was alien to any such flattery, he knew how to speak the bitter truth to the eyes of his listeners; but if I ever expressed love for them, it was from the depths of my sincere heart. What genuine sincerity his words sound: “I carry you in my heart, you occupy all my thoughts. The people are great, but my love for them is great, and you will not be cramped in my soul. I have no other life except you and concern for your salvation.” Being a true exponent of the spirit of Christ, John, as a shepherd, mainly cared for those who labor and are burdened, whom the Savior Christ Himself called to Himself with boundless love. His loving heart was especially open to the smaller brethren, and he, like a caring father, delved into all their needs, not only spiritual, but also material, everyday ones. When the situation of the poor residents became especially difficult for some reason, Chrysostom boldly acted as an intercessor for them, and if the reason for the deterioration of their situation was greed or oppression on the part of the rich, then he, as a true people's trustee, strongly reproached the latter, not sparing words to expose their greed and cruelty. At times, John’s sermons were almost exclusively occupied with the situation of the poor inhabitants of the city, so that he was even reproached for the fact that he only talks about the poor, as if others did not deserve his attention and edification. Chrysostom responded to this that the salvation of everyone, rich or poor, is dear to him; but he especially cares about the poor because not only their souls, but also their bodies need the care of a shepherd, therefore the Savior at the Last Judgment will ask whether we fed the hungry or clothed the naked. “Therefore I will not cease to repeat: give to the poor, and I will tirelessly accuse those who do not give.” And indeed, he never ceased to repeat this call and was the true father of the poor and beggars - that lover of poverty, whose love of poverty made him especially dear to the Orthodox Russian people, who to this day consider poverty and almsgiving to be the main virtue of every true Christian. The mercy of John Chrysostom was clearly revealed in his attitude towards the sins and vices of his people. Himself a great and stern ascetic, he was an implacable enemy and denouncer of all sin, an inexorable persecutor of all vices and passions and waged a fierce struggle against them. Vigilantly monitoring all movements in both the external and internal life of his flock, he menacingly castigated all deviations from holiness and Christian duty, and his accusatory speeches at times sounded like peals of heavenly thunder, and his listeners trembled, imagining the terrible torment that they had prepared for themselves by their deeds. But this hostility towards sins and vices in John never turned into hostility towards the sinners themselves. On the contrary, the more strongly he hurled thunderous denunciations against sins, the more regret and love he felt for the sinners themselves, seeing in them lost sheep requiring the loving care of a shepherd. Therefore, as soon as he noticed the effect of his threats, he softened his tone, instead of thunder, words of love and approval were heard from his lips, and the main subject of his conversation became the infinity of God’s mercy, before which every human sin drowns like a drop in the ocean. His favorite text was the saying of the Savior: “The Son of man came not to destroy the souls of men, but to save” (Luke 9:56), and, developing its meaning, John tried to instill in his listeners the idea that there is no such sinful fall from which man could not rise, and his reasoning made an all the more powerful impression because it was often confirmed by visual examples not only from the Bible, but also from modern life. “Have you not heard,” he once said, “of the harlot who surpassed all the dead women and who later surpassed many saints in her piety? I'm not talking about the one in the Gospel, but about the one that was so famous around the time of my birth. Coming from the most corrupt city of Phenicia, she occupied first place in the theater and her fame spread to Cilicia and Cappadocia. How many rich people has she ruined! How many young people has she seduced? She was even accused of witchcraft, as if her beauty, loveless charms and magic were not enough for her passion - to devour her victims. She even caught the Empress's brother in her net. No one could stand against her omnipotence. And suddenly, I don’t know how, or better said, I know that by changing her will, having achieved the grace of God, she broke free from the demonic seductions that captivated her and directed her path to heaven. She, with whom no one could equal in shamelessness on stage, became a model of chastity and, dressed in a hair shirt, spent her life in repentance. In vain did the prefect, prompted by certain persons, want to force her to return to the theater stage, and even the soldiers sent for her could not take her from the refuge of the virgins who sheltered her. Admitted to the Holy Mysteries, purified by grace, she achieved the highest virtue, never showed herself to her admirers and was imprisoned in a kind of prison, where she spent several years. Thus, the first will be last, and the last will be first. Let us hope that nothing will prevent us from becoming great and glorious.” Such conversations could have a deeply encouraging meaning for the most stubborn sinners, saving them from despondency and despair and supporting them with hope in God’s mercy. Truly, the following words of Chrysostom served as an anchor of salvation for all despairing sinners: “Are you a sinner? Don't despair; I will not stop providing you with medicine, for I know what a weapon against the devil is - do not despair! If you are in sin, do not despair, and I will never stop repeating: if you sin every day, then repent every day... You are old in sins, renew yourself with repentance! But is it possible, you ask, to achieve salvation through repentance? Of course you can. – If I spent my whole life in sins and bring repentance, will I be saved? - Of course, you will be saved, for God’s mercy is immeasurable and His goodness is inexpressible. Evil, whatever it may be, is human evil, and therefore limited, but forgiving mercy is God’s, and therefore infinite. Imagine a spark falling into the sea: can it stay there or be visible? As a spark is before the sea, so is human evil before the goodness of God; and not even that much, but goodness is much greater. The sea, no matter how great it is, has limits, but the goodness of God has no limits.” Being a preacher of mercy and forgiveness, John Chrysostom was at the same time a shepherd of the world. He was an enemy of all division and schism, and therefore his heart ached at the sight of the division that existed in Antioch itself between the Orthodox in his time. In his conversations, he often returned to this subject and tried to understand the very root of the evil of division, which lies not in religious jealousy, but in selfishness and lust for power. “Nothing divides the Church more,” he said, “than the lust for power; nothing arouses the wrath of God more than division in the Church. Even if we did the most perfect deeds, if we break the unity, we will be punished, as if we were tearing apart the body of the Lord... Even martyrdom does not atone for such a sin. Why are you suffering martyrdom? Is it not for the glory of Jesus Christ? You give your life for Jesus Christ and at the same time you plunder the Church for which Jesus Christ died.” With such admonitions, he greatly contributed to taming the passions of division in the Church and, finally, had the happiness of living until that sweet moment for him when the parties were finally reconciled and the division ceased. The future saint spent the best years of his life in such lively interaction with his flock. All of his most important works, both conversational and polemical, date back to this time. In his continuous conversations, he interpreted not only places and texts, but also entire books of Holy Scripture, both the Old and New Testaments, and these interpretations constitute his main glory as an exegete. He did not “sit out” his interpretations in his office, but addressed them in a lively conversation with the people in the church. Hence the spirituality and vitality of his every word, which deeply penetrated the souls of his listeners, that fire that was truly capable of igniting the hearts of people. During his long pastoral activity in Antioch, John Chrysostom became so familiar and close to his flock that all his thoughts were focused on only one thing, how to better and more effectively edify them, more accurately protect them from errors and more fully reveal to them the truth that faith in Jesus Christ is the source of all good. He no longer set himself anything higher than this goal. True, there were times when, extremely tired of his labors and suppressed by grief due to the frivolity and follies of his people, he involuntarily cast melancholy glances towards the surrounding mountains, where he had once labored in holy solitude in his youth and where many of the “earthly angels,” as he liked to call the hermits, continued to lead such a life. Sometimes he even temporarily retired to these mountains to rest and refresh himself from the exhausting labors and noisy bustle of city life; but the working life of the shepherd had now taken such possession of him that he could not break with it forever and therefore, after a short rest, he always returned again to his beloved flock, who also yearned for their absent shepherd. While Saint John still remained in Antioch, an important change took place in the political state of the world. In 395, Emperor Theodosius died, taking with him to his grave the last reflections of the greatness of the Roman Empire. He left two sons - Arcadius and Honorius, and he, in order not to arouse hostility between them, and mainly not considering any of them capable of taking on the entire burden of governing a huge empire, which, moreover, was clearly declining, divided the empire between them, giving Honorius the West, and Arcadia - its Eastern half. Both of them were still young people and, moreover, not generously endowed by nature in order to carry out the difficult service entrusted to them with dignity and success. It is not surprising, therefore, that the real rulers of the state were not they, but those close to them, among whom the leading place was occupied in the West by the famous commander Stilicho, and in the East by the no less famous courtier, the eunuch Eutropius. The latter, having emerged from a slave state, thanks to various accidents and especially his natural mind, managed to earn the favor of the late Emperor Theodosius, who before his death entrusted him with important assignments, and after his death, of course, became the main guardian of the young Arkady and the actual ruler of the state. This eunuch was the instrument through which the Providence of God brought John to the see of Constantinople. When, after the death of Archbishop Nektarios, the question arose about his successor, it was not easy to resolve it. There were many claims to the primacy of the Eastern Empire. Arkady didn't know what to do or who to choose. Then Eutropius rescued him from his difficulty. As a person not alien to religiosity, he was interested in church affairs and, while he was in Antioch, did not fail to listen to the famous Antioch preacher. John made a strong impression on him with his sermons, and now Eutropius suggested to the emperor how good it would be for the Church of the capital city of his empire to have such a famous shepherd at its head. Arkady agreed, and immediately the governor of the East, Asterius, was given a secret order to take and bring John to the capital. The order, so unexpected both for John and for the people of Antioch, was not easy to fulfill. The Antiochians would never have agreed to voluntarily part with their beloved shepherd, and any violence would have led to rebellion. Therefore, the order was given to take John by cunning, which was done by Asterius, who, calling John out of the city, as if for joint veneration of the relics of St. martyrs, ordered him to be taken into a chariot, which rushed to Constantinople. The humble shepherd, having learned about the real purpose of his call outside the city, of course, grieved, casting a farewell glance at his native Antioch, where he had worked so hard for the good of his beloved people; but obedient to the Providence of God, he completely reconciled himself with this circumstance and calmly approached the reigning city. The emperor graciously met the famous shepherd and, in order to add more solemnity and splendor to his consecration, summoned many bishops for this, who, led by Patriarch Theophilos of Alexandria, ordained John on February 26, 398 to the rank of Archbishop of Constantinople. Now John was no longer a simple shepherd-preacher in a provincial town. He was the archbishop of the capital, the patriarch of the reigning city, and sat on the throne of the second Rome. His position was very high, but at the same time difficult. The Church of Constantinople, founded, according to legend, by the holy Apostle Andrew, has experienced many vicissitudes, and since the rise of Byzantium to the status of the capital of the Eastern Empire, it has acquired great, pre-eminent importance in the East. It, in fact, was the focus of the church-religious and spiritual life of the entire East. But as a result of this very situation, she was most strongly overwhelmed by various trends. In the capital, all kinds of false teachings found shelter and support, which quickly took root among the frivolous, pleasure-loving population and whose adherents knew how to gain access even to the imperial court. As a result, there were times when false teaching especially brazenly celebrated its victory in the capital, threatening to completely supplant Orthodoxy. This is exactly what happened recently, under St. Gregory the Theologian, who, having arrived in Constantinople, saw with regret that all the most important fourteen churches of the capital were in the hands of the Arians and Orthodoxy huddled in only one house church, which under his beneficial shepherd became the source of the restoration or resurrection of Orthodoxy. But although Orthodoxy was restored, the influence of false teaching was so great that it was difficult for this great archbishop-theologian to shepherd a flock so dissolute in spiritual and moral terms, and therefore, soon after his elevation to the rank of archbishop, he renounced this high rank. Nektarios, one of the secular court dignitaries, was chosen as his successor. After him, the capital's Church remained in a rather unsettled state. The people, completely devoted to pleasures and passions, did not respect their shepherds, and the latter, not excluding the bishops, also led a completely worldly life. All this deeply struck and saddened John. If in Antioch he saw so many shortcomings and vices, with which he waged an irreconcilable struggle, then there these were the shortcomings of the unreasonable flock, which needed admonition from the shepherds; and here the shepherds themselves demanded no less admonition and punishment. And the saint could immediately understand what a difficult and responsible place he had been placed in by Providence. Even in his youth, he was aware of the height and severity of episcopal service, and that is why he evaded it, hiding from his friend Vasily. Now, against his will, having found himself in the chair of the primacy of the Church, he could be even more convinced of this. But now he no longer avoided the burden of his ministry. On the contrary, placed in such a high and difficult position, he, as a true shepherd of the Church, courageously entered into the exercise of his arduous ministry. As a zealot for the glory of the Church of God, John Chrysostom considered it his duty to strictly protect the rights and advantages that belonged to it. Only by possessing such rights could the Church successfully carry out its educational and saving work in the world. Meanwhile, the civil government already then repeatedly made claims to violate or limit these rights and advantages, and moreover, most often for reasons not so much of the state as of personal ones. Since ancient times, one of the most important advantages of the Church was its right of asylum. This right, which dates back to ancient times, was extremely important in those times when, under the rule of arbitrariness and brute force, people could often find refuge from human violence only at the throne of God. And Saint John, as an unyielding defender of the weak and oppressed, attached great importance to the right of asylum. Meanwhile, this right was increasingly subject to restrictions, and the main culprit for this was the all-powerful eunuch Eutropius at that time. Intoxicated by the omnipotence he had achieved, the arrogant eunuch already boldly dreamed of eventually seizing the throne itself and mercilessly exterminated everyone whom he could consider his opponents and enemies. Since many sought salvation from his rage in the church of God, Eutropius decided to put an end to this institution. In vain did John Chrysostom rebel against this encroachment on the sacred right of the Church to shelter people defenseless from the evil rage; The eunuch, considering Saint John as his protege, who owed him his very elevation to the throne of the Church of Constantinople, insisted on his own, and the right of asylum was indeed abolished. Soon, however, an event occurred that showed how fragile human greatness is and how necessary it is for people to have a protector in the person of the Church. Eutropius, with his intrigues and daring antics, brought upon himself the disfavor of the emperor, and his position was shaken. And when he, forgetting himself to the extreme, insulted even the Empress Eudoxia, who, with tears in her eyes and with her crying babies in her arms, appeared to the emperor, asking him for protection from the insults of the daring courtier, then his fate was decided: he was deprived of all his posts, and he was threatened with the death penalty. Hitherto an all-powerful courtier, Eutropius now turned out to be the most pitiful and helpless person. In all the world he did not have a person who would extend a helping hand to him and would regret him. On the contrary, everyone rejoiced at the fall of the arrogant eunuch, and the news of his overthrow quickly spread throughout the city. Taking advantage of his helplessness, many were ready, even before legal justice was carried out, to take revenge on him for all the injustices and violence he had caused, and he was in a desperate situation. Then, suppressing his pride, Eutropius turned to his only protection, the Church, and, despite the abolition of the right of asylum that took place at his own insistence, he sought salvation for himself at the throne of God, and he was not mistaken. There the great saint, who had so recently been upset by this same Eutropius, met him and gave him refuge from which no force could take him. The Empress, burning with vengeance, ordered to immediately seize the eunuch who had insulted her and subject him to well-deserved punishment; but when the messengers came to the church in order to fulfill this command, then, despite their demand, as well as the cries of the angry crowd, who also demanded the head of the hated Eutropius, Saint John fearlessly and with the consciousness of his power refused to fulfill this demand. “You will kill Eutropius,” he said in response to the cries and demands of the soldiers and the crowd, “not before killing me.” Then he himself went to the emperor and there petitioned for pardon for the ill-fated proud man, whose fate represented striking proof of the precariousness of human greatness and the formidability of God's justice. All this happened at night, and in the morning John Chrysostom, having saved the unfortunate courtier from the death that threatened him, delivered before a large crowd the famous sermon “on Eutropius the eunuch,” in which all human vanity was depicted in fiery colors. Eutropius was exiled, and although he was subsequently executed, at the very moment of his fall he was saved from the punishment of the law and the wrath of the people precisely by the forgiving generosity of Chrysostom. This extraordinary event showed in all its splendor the spiritual authority that the great saint of Constantinople possessed. However, the fall of Eutropius, who autocratically controlled both the emperor and the empire, did not return their freedom. The poor orphan, the daughter of the commander Frank Bauto, who had previously served in the ranks of the Roman troops, whom Eutropius found in modest solitude to make the Empress of the East, now essentially took his place. And the entire further ministry of John Chrysostom is the struggle of the empress with the great saint of God. A terrible struggle, a struggle that carried away the Sovereign and the people, divided the bishopric, almost armed both halves of the Roman world against each other - a struggle that had never before shaken both the state and the Church, a struggle that showed the world not only a great universal teacher, but also a great martyr for the truth. It is not permissible for Christians to overthrow errors by coercion and violence; We are commanded to accomplish the salvation of people through word, persuasion and meekness.