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During the persecution of Emperor Decius (250–251), the ruler of the eastern provinces, Aquilinus, who lived in Nicaea, sent soldiers to Phrygia to find Tryphon, a resident of the village of Kampsad, near the city of Apamea (now Mundania), as a disseminator of the Christian faith, a disobedient of the royal will and a despiser of the gods. Tryphon did not hide, he gave himself into the hands of the messengers and, bound, was brought to Nicaea. The ruler sat in his judicial seat, surrounded by officials, soldiers and servants, and said: “Let the one presented tell us his name, fatherland, his destiny and his faith.” “My name is Tryphon,” answered the prisoner; “fatherland - the village of Kampsada, near the city of Apamea. We don’t have fate, and we don’t attribute anything to it; for we believe that everything is arranged by God’s providence and vision, and not by chance, or fate, or the influence of the stars. By status I am a free Roman citizen and I serve only Christ, Who is both the beginning and the end of my faith.” “I think,” said the ruler, “that you have not heard about the royal command to put to death Christians and those who do not worship the gods. Leave your faith, otherwise you will be thrown into the fire.” Since the saint did not obey the command, he was first subjected to scourging, which lasted three hours with breaks for exhortations. “Repent,” said Aquilin; “bow to the gods; none of the opponents of the royal decree could escape a bitter death.” “And I tell you,” answered the martyr: “none of those who rejected Christ, the King of Heaven, will inherit eternal life, but will remain in unquenchable fire.” After these tortures, going hunting, he ordered Tryphon, tied to a horse, to follow him. There was black ice, so the soles of my feet were torn apart and my toes were torn off. Tryphon endured terrible torment and encouraged himself by prayerfully singing the psalms of David; After the hunt, he was again persuaded to idolatry and sent to prison. A few days later, returning to Nicaea from a trip to other cities and seeing Tryphon’s steadfastness in faith, he ordered nails to be driven into his feet and led through the streets; and it was winter time. When this cruel torture did not turn away the confessor, the torturer ordered him to be hanged on a tree and, after the scourging, his sides were scorched with candles; heavenly light illuminated and strengthened the ascetic. Finally, the tormentor pronounced the death sentence: “Tryphon from Apamea, an opponent of the royal command and disrespectful to the gods, let him be beheaded.” Brought to the place of execution, Saint Tryphon, turning to the east, began to pray to the Lord and died before the sword touched him. The Nicene Christians took his honest body, lying on the ground, and wanted to bury it; but St. Tryphon in a vision ordered to transfer his body to Kampsada, the place of his birth. Memory of St. Martyr Perpetua and others with her St. Perpetua, a citizen of Carthage, the daughter of noble parents, a pagan father and a Christian mother, the wife of a noble man, was widowed early and vowed to live only for God and raising her only child. She had not yet been baptized, but was preparing for baptism, when on March 7, 202, by decree of Emperor Septimius Severus, she was captured in Carthage along with some others who were catechumens like her, that is, those who were preparing for baptism and who had studied the truths of the Christian faith. At that time, Perpetua had living parents of advanced years and two brothers, from among the catechumens. She had to part with them and leave her infant child, whom she fed with her own milk, in someone else’s arms. She herself described her life in prison and subsequent incidents, and the record of her martyrdom was made by an eyewitness and for eyewitnesses (see Acta Sanctorum, Mart. I, 634). “We were still together with our tyrants when my father came to make new efforts to touch me and convince me to change my resolve. “Father,” I said, “do you see this clay vessel?” “I see,” he said. “Is it possible,” I continued, “to give it another name besides the one it already has?” “No,” he answered. “Exactly the same,” I told him, “and I cannot be other than what I exist now, that is, now I am a Christian.” At this answer, my father rushed at me with the goal of gouging out my eyes, but limited himself to only treating me roughly. He was confused, seeing that with all the tricks he used to seduce me, he was unable to persuade me. I thanked God for not seeing my father for several days, since his absence allowed me to calm down somewhat. After some time we were baptized. The Holy Spirit, upon my emergence from the water, inspired me to desire nothing more than patience in the midst of torment. After some time we were imprisoned; the severity, dampness and warmth of the place struck me the first time, because I had no idea about places of this kind. Oh! how hard that day was for me! What a terrible heat! It was stuffy and cramped there; In addition, we had to see and experience rudeness from the soldiers guarding us every second. Finally, I was especially tormented by the fact that my little one was not with me. But? thanks to Tertius and Pompon, two good deacons! Even though they paid for money, they still achieved the point that they gave us a larger room, where we began to breathe more freely. Everyone took care of themselves. As for me, all I cared about was breastfeeding my child, who had already been brought to me and who was too weak to be without her mother’s breast for a long time. All my worries rested on him. Most of all, I asked my parents only that they would not leave my child... Truly, I was greatly touched to see the love they had for me. I was sad for a long time; but, after intense requests, leaving the baby with me, I soon calmed down; I felt good; prison became a pleasant home for me; I wanted to die here and not anywhere else. One day my brother said to me: “Sister! I am sure that you have a lot of strength before God: ask Him - I beg you! - that He would let you know in a dream, or in some other way, whether you will have to sacrifice your life, or whether you will be returned, sent back.” Knowing that I sometimes had the consolation of receiving revelations from God and every day received a thousand signs of His goodness towards me, I turned with prayer to the Lord, Who vouchsafed me dreams. Here it is. I saw a golden staircase, extremely high, which reached from earth to heaven, but so narrow that it was hardly possible to climb it alone; the sides of this staircase were hung and studded with sharp swords, hunting knives, darts, scythes, daggers and long lances, so that if anyone walks along it without caution and without constantly looking up, he cannot remain intact among such weapons, and will involuntarily have to leave a significant part of his body among them. At the lower end of the stairs there was a terrible dragon, which seemed constantly ready to rush at those who attempted to ascend. The satyr constantly solicited this, and he entered first. Having safely reached the very last step of the stairs, he turned to me with the words: “Perpetua! I am waiting for you, but beware lest the dragon devour you.” I answered him: “I am not afraid of him,” and immediately decided to go up the stairs in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then the dragon, as if frightened, quietly turned away his head, and when I raised my foot onto the stairs, then he served as the first step for me. Having ascended the stairs, I found myself in a huge garden, in the middle of which I saw a handsome man in shepherd’s clothing; his hair is as white as snow. Here he had a flock of sheep with him, which he was milking, and around him there were countless people dressed in white clothes. He saw me and, calling me by name, said to me: “My daughter! you passed safely.” And he gave me the milk that he had just milked; it was as thick as curdled milk. I took it with folded hands and ate it; those who were here said: Amen. I woke up at this word and, indeed, felt something very sweet in my mouth. On my first meeting with my brother, I told him my dream, and we concluded from it that we would soon have to die in torment. From that time on, we began to completely renounce earthly objects, and concentrated all our thoughts in eternity. A few days later, when word spread that we would be taken for interrogation, my father comes; sadness was imprinted on his face; mortal grief consumed him. He comes up to me and says: “My daughter! have pity on your father’s gray hairs, if I’m only worth being called your father! If you still have a memory of those tender and special cares that I endured while raising you, if you still admit that my extreme love for you made me prefer you to both of your brothers, then do not be the culprit of making me an object of shame for the whole city. Touch the eyes of your brothers, look at your own mother, at your mother-in-law, at your child, who will not survive without you. Reduce a little of this boastful courage - perseverance; think a little, and do not expose us all to inevitable shame. Which of us will dare to go out into public if you end your life at the hands of the executioner? Spare your life so as not to destroy us all.” As he said this, he kissed my hands; after that, he threw himself at my feet in tears and called me mistress. I admit, I was filled with great sorrow when I thought that only my father would remain alone, who would not benefit from my death. “Father! I said, don’t be so sad; let there be only what pleases God; we have no power within ourselves, but are dependent on His will.” My father left in sorrow and in incomprehensible despondency. One day, during lunch, they suddenly order us to appear for interrogation. As soon as word of this spread throughout the city, in one minute the hall where they were interrogating was filled with people. We were forced to stand on something like a theater stage, where the judge had his own chair. All those who answered before me loudly confessed Jesus Christ. When it was my turn and when I was already preparing to give an answer, at that moment my father appeared with my baby in the arms of a servant. They moved me a few steps away from the judge's seat, and begged me in the strongest words. “Will you really,” he said, be insensitive to the misfortunes that threaten this innocent creature who received life from you? Then the chairman, named Hilary, the successor of the proconsul Minucius Timinian, who had recently died, joined my father and addressed me with these words: “Are the gray hair of the father, whom you want to make unhappy, and the innocence of this baby, who is going to remain an orphan as a result of your death, are all this not able to touch you? Just make a sacrifice for the health of the emperors.” I replied: “I will never make a sacrifice.” Hilary objected: “So you are a Christian”? “Yes,” I answered. Meanwhile, my father, still not losing hope of persuading me and standing here, received a blow with a stick from the gatekeeper, whom Hilary ordered to take him out. The blow was painful for me. I gasped when I saw that because of me they were treating my father so rudely and basely, and I regretted his unhappy old age. At the same time, the judge pronounced a sentence according to which we should be thrown to the beasts. Having heard the decision, we left the platform and joyfully walked along the road leading to the dungeon. As soon as I entered the prison, I immediately sent Deacon Pompon to ask for the child from my father, who did not want to give it to me. And, by the grace of God, the child no longer needed her mother’s milk, and I was not at all upset about my milk. Thus I was quite calm in my soul; nothing made me sad. Not much time passed after that, and we were transferred to the dungeon, since we were appointed for the performances that were to be given in Kampa on the birthday of Geta Caesar; Chains were placed on all of us until the day on which we were to be handed over to the beasts. After several days, the chief of the prison guard, noticing that God had generously protected us, did such a great honor to us that he allowed our brothers to freely enter us, who came to us, on the one hand, with the goal of comforting us, and on the other, to receive consolation themselves. But a few days before the performances, I saw my father entering where we were, in such a grave and gloomy despondency that cannot be depicted. He tore his beard, threw himself on the ground and lay on it, turning his face to her, screaming and cursing in every possible way the day on which he was born. He grieved that he had lived so long; he called his old age unhappy; in a word, he spoke so sadly and touchingly that he brought those who listened to him to tears and aroused in them sympathy for himself. I was dying of grief, looking at his pitiful situation. “Finally, on the eve of the performance, I had a dream. It seemed to me as if Deacon Pompon approached the gates of our prison, knocked loudly on them, and as if I ran out to open it for him. He was dressed in a white dress of very rich material, hung at the edges with many golden garnets. He said to me: “Perpetua, I am waiting for you; would you like to go? At that very moment he gave me his hand, and we set off along the narrow thorny road. Finally, after making a lot of turns, we approached the amphitheater, almost out of breath. Pomnon brought me to the middle of the stage and said to me: “Don’t be afraid of anything, I’m with you now; and I will come to fight with you and for you.” Having said this, he left, and I was left alone. Since I was sure that I would have to go out to the animals, I did not understand why they hesitated to release them against me. At that moment an Ethiopian of extremely disgusting appearance appeared, moving towards me with a crowd of ugly people like him, and invited me to fight. Immediately young people, very kind, came to me with services. They took off my clothes, and I felt that I had become courageous, I had become a strong and powerful warrior. These young men smeared me with oil, just as those who entered into a fight or battle had to be smeared. But when I was ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat, one man, tall and dignified, approached me. He wore purple and long clothes, with many folds; It was fastened with a diamond clasp. He had in his hands a cane, similar to the one that the managers at the games have; in his hands was a green branch on which golden apples hung. Having ordered everyone to remain silent, he said: “If the Ethiopian defeats the woman, then he will be allowed to kill her. But if the woman remains victorious over the Ethiopian, then she will receive this branch and these golden apples.” Having said these words, he took his place. We grappled with the Ethiopian and began a strong fight. He made every effort to knock me down; With caution, I avoided his tricks, striking him many blows in the face. I felt as if I had risen into the air, from where I easily hit my opponent. Finally, seeing that the struggle would drag on too long, I folded both my hands so that the fingers of one hand were between the fingers of the other, and lowered them directly onto the Ethiopian’s head; he fell on the sand. The audience applauded me, and my noble defenders mingled the melody of their songs with the applause of the people. As for me, I approached the overseer of the games, a wonderful man who witnessed my victory, with the goal of demanding a reward from him, and received a branch with golden apples. Handing over the branch, he said to me: “My daughter! May peace be with you forever!” I left the amphitheater through the gate called Sanvivaria. This is how my dream ended. I was consoled only by this vision, which predicted a struggle for me and at the same time assured me of victory. So I wrote down everything that happened to me before the day of the performances; if anyone wants to continue this story, what happened after, he can do so.” Let us continue the story of Perpetua. The warden of the prison treated the holy sufferers extremely harshly, because people, either out of malicious intent or out of stupid superstition, made him fear that they would not escape from prison through magic, which Christians were generally suspected of at that time. Perpetua boldly said to him: “And you probably know how to treat well the remarkable individuals who are close to Caesar and glorify his birthday with their exploits? Why are you preventing us from enjoying this small privilege that is allowed to them for this day?” At these words, the tribune blushed and became confused and, wanting the prisoners to forget about their ill-treatment, gave a new order, but which was to treat prisoners in prison favorably - the brothers were given complete freedom to visit them and persons of all ranks were allowed to bring them gifts and assistance. On the evening before the performances, as usual, the doomed animals were given a dinner, which is called a free dinner. Holy sufferers, as far as possible, this dinner made it a feast of love. The room in which they ate was full of people. The martyrs, although not suddenly, nevertheless addressed him with a speech. They either spoke to them with terrifying force about the threatening wrath of God, or announced to them that God would exact from them that innocent blood that they intended to shed; in places, in the form of irony, they reproached the people for their brutal curiosity. “Will tomorrow not satisfy your curiosity,” says the Satyr to this inhuman people, and will not give you complete pleasure from looking at us; Will he really not be able to tame the hatred that you have for us? Today you seem touched by our fate, and tomorrow you will rejoice at our death and begin to applaud our murderers. Take a good look at our faces so that you can recognize us on that terrible day when all people will be judged.” These words, spoken with complete conviction and with all the strength that only defense of a just cause can give, terrified the majority of the people; Some withdrew, overwhelmed with fear, which, however, passed at the first favorable opportunity, but many remained for instruction and believed in Jesus Christ. Finally, the day came on which the triumph of our generous ascetics and warriors was to be revealed. They were taken out of prison to be presented at the amphitheater. Joy was imprinted on their faces; she shone in their eyes, she showed herself in their gestures, she expressed herself in their speeches. Perpetua walked behind everyone. The calmness of her spirit was noticeable on her face and gait. When they came to the gates of the amphitheater, they wanted to put on the clothes of the priests of Saturn, and on the women the clothes worn by the priestesses of Ceres. But these courageous warriors of the true God, always firm and unshakable in loyalty, testified with an oath and said: “We came here voluntarily, as a result of the word given to us - not to force us to do anything that is displeasing to our God.” This time injustice gave way to justice. The tribune agreed to their proposal - to appear at the amphitheater in their ordinary dress. Perpetua sang, thinking about the Ethiopian, whose fall she had already predicted. Revokat, Saturninus and Satyr threatened the people with gestures and voices. When they stood opposite the balcony where Hilary was sitting, they shouted to him: “You condemn us in this life, but God will condemn you in the next world!” The people, irritated by such magnanimous courage and wishing to show respect to the consul on their part, demanded that they be led through the line. But the saints rejoiced that they were doing the same to them as they were doing to Jesus Christ, their God and Teacher. In addition, the demon, sensing that the weaker sex was preparing to defeat him, out of annoyance did what, against custom, a wild and mad cow was appointed to fight Perpetua and other women. After this, they took off their clothes and sent them naked behind bars. But all the people who were present at this spectacle were overwhelmed with horror and regret, seeing a young, gentle and famous citizen by birth, a widow faithful to her late husband, a compassionate mother, a strong Christian. So they took her behind the partition again and allowed her to put on her dress. Perpetua immediately stepped forward; the cow grabs her; picks him up and throws him on his back. The young sufferer, having pacified her and noticing that her dress was torn, quickly closed herself, preoccupied not so much with the pain she felt as with fear for her honor, which could suffer here. Rising, she gathered up her hair, which until that time had been loose (because it was indecent for martyrs to have their faces covered during battle, since people usually covered their faces on a day of sorrow). Felicity, noticing that this ferocious cow was acting badly, and Perpetua was lying on the stage, ran up to Perpetua and, giving her her hand, helped her get up. And both of them presented themselves ready to withstand a new attack, but the people, although they remained as cruel as before, did not want to challenge them to battle at that moment. They came to the gates of Sanvivaria, where Perpetua was recognized by one catechumen, whose name was Rusticus. This amazing woman, as if awakening from a deep sleep, asked: when was she delivered from that furious cow? They told her how it happened: she never wanted to believe it, and only after recognizing the person announced and looking at her dress, torn in many places, and at several wounds that were pointed out to her, only then did she believe. Then, calling her brother and the catechumen to her, she said: “continue in the faith, love one another and do not be tempted by my torment.” At this time, the Satyr, having retired to one of the porticoes of the amphitheater, said to Pudent: “Didn’t I tell you before that the animals will not do anything to me, that all my desires, except one, will be fulfilled? So believe with all your heart in Him in Whom I believe. The leopard in the amphitheater should take my life.” And indeed, towards the end of the performances, the leopard, rushing at him, wounded him so much with a blow of his teeth that blood poured out of him in a large stream, so that the people shouted: “Here is the one who will be baptized another time!” Then, turning his last glance to Pudent, the Satyr said: “Farewell, my friend! remember my faith and imitate it, may my death not disturb you, but, on the contrary, may it encourage and strengthen you for suffering.” Then, taking the ring from his finger, he dipped it in his blood and, giving it to Pudent, said: “Take it as a pledge of our friendship, wear it out of love for me, and let the blood with which it is stained remind you that I shed it today for the sake of Jesus Christ.” After this, he was transferred to where those persons who did not die from their wounds ended their lives. But when the bloodthirsty people demanded that the other martyrs, only slightly wounded, be brought back onto the stage and to their inevitable death, then they all rose from their places of their own accord and, giving each other the holy kiss of peace, ascended to where the people demanded. They all met death without the slightest emotion, without uttering a single sound of complaint, not even a single groan. The satyr, in accordance with Perpetua's vision, in which he appeared ahead of all those who ascended to the height of the wonderful staircase, died ahead of everyone; behind him is Perpetua. Unfortunately, she fell into the hands of a very slow gladiator, whose trembling and unusual hand, inflicting only light wounds on Perpetua, forced her to suffer for a long time. That is why she was forced to bring the sword of this inexperienced warrior to her neck, pointing him to the place where he should stick the sword. He did just that. (Extracted from the work of Archpriest V.Ya. Mikhailovsky). Venerable Peter of Galatia Who can worthily praise someone who labored for ninety-two years and emerged victorious every day and every night? What word will be enough to retell about the virtues in which he labored in childhood, and in adolescence, and in manhood, and in old age, and in deep old age? Who will measure the drops of his sweat? Who can count the battles he committed during such a time of war? What word could convey how many seeds he sowed and how many fruits he reaped? Who would have such a high mind that he could fully embrace the acquisitions that he collected from the wise use of the talents given to him? I know how vast the sea of ​​his virtues is, and I’m afraid to begin to narrate them, lest I and my word perish under the waves. Therefore, I will walk near the shore, express my surprise and tell only about what I see near the shore. I will leave the very depths to the One who tests the depths and knows the secrets." This is what Blessed Theodoret, Bishop of Cyrus, his contemporary and who enjoyed a personal relationship with him, says about St. Peter. From the story of Blessed Theodoret, some information is given here about the life of the great ascetic, whose memory is honored today by St. Church. The chosen vessel of the Holy Spirit, from a very early age Peter loved “the only thing needed” and steadily walked his earthly life for more than ninety years along the narrow path he had chosen. Leaving the home of his parents, he first asceticised in Galatia, then went to Palestine to worship the places sanctified by the feet of the Incarnate God, and, imbued with and saturated with these memories, he arrived in Antioch, where then (in the 2nd quarter of the 15th century) piety flourished, and therefore the young man Peter wished to settle here, preferring life in a foreign city with fellow believers - life in his own fatherland, although with the same blood and the same tribe, but not like-minded with him. He did not, however, arrange any housing for himself in Antioch; took refuge in the tomb and lived here for a long time in prayerful solitude and strict fasting, eating only bread and water. Striving in this way from strength to strength, Peter reached that degree of spirituality that the Lord chooses as the basis for His highest gifts of grace, and in his youth he was still awarded the gift of miracles. By the power of prayer, he restored reason to those who were possessed, healed bodily illnesses, “even his clothes, through touch, acted like the clothes of the divine Apostle Paul,” says Theodoret. One circumstance is remarkable when the mother of Blessed Theodoret met this ascetic of Antioch. She heard about him from one of her friends, the wife of the then eastern ruler of Pergamum, who was healed by Blessed Peter from a dangerous eye disease. The mother of Blessed Theodoret, also suffering from an eye disease from which no one could heal her, decided to turn for help to a well-known ascetic of the tomb. A young woman, not yet spiritually enlightened, she went to him, adorned, as usual, with rich clothes. Seeing her, the blessed one wished to heal her first of her love for clothes... “Tell me, my daughter,” he spoke to her, “if some painter, very experienced in his art, painted some picture according to all the rules of art and presented it to people who wanted to look, and someone else, who had not studied that art well, but painted as he pleased, whatever came to mind, came and, blaspheming that artistic painting, gave his eyebrows and eyelashes a longer outline, made his face whiter, he would have added more color to his cheeks - do you think the former painter would not have been rightly indignant at this insult to his art and at the unnecessary additions made by an ignorant hand? Likewise, the Creator of all things and our nature, the Creator and Artist, is offended by the fact that you seem to accuse His ineffable wisdom of imperfection: otherwise you would not cover yourself with paint, either white or black, if you did not think that you lack this accessory. And thinking that the body lacks what is necessary, you seem to accuse the Creator of some kind of powerlessness, while everyone knows that He has power equal to will. Everything that the Lord wanted, he created (Ps. 134:6), giving everyone everything that was useful, not giving only what was harmful. Do not distort the image ordained by God, do not try to add what the Wise One did not give, and do not invent counterfeit beauty, which corrupts even the chaste.” Like a good seed on fertile soil, these words sank into the good soul of a young woman and suddenly enlightened and transformed her. Falling at the feet of the saint, she with tears begged him to pray for her, saying that she would not leave him until she received healing from her illness. “If you have sincere and firm faith, you will recover,” the humble Peter told her. - God, always ready to fulfill the request of a believing soul, will also fulfill your request, not by bestowing grace on me, but by seeing your faith. If you take this God-given medicine, you will recover.” And when, following these words, Peter put his sick hand on his eye and depicted the sign of the cross, the disease disappeared. “My mother gained such benefit from Peter’s instructions,” says Theodoret, “she sought healing for the body, and also acquired health for the soul. This is what blessed Peter did with his words, this is what he could do with prayer." “Having many other stories about this blessed soul, I will omit quite a few, fearing for the weakness of many who, judging by themselves, do not believe the miracles of God-loving men... So, having shone with miraculous rays and enlightened Antioch with them,” concludes Theodoret, “Peter finished his exploits in anticipation of the crown prepared for the victorious.” Blessed Peter died peacefully around 429, being 99 years old. St. new Anastasia Navpliota A resident of the city of Anailiya, a painter by occupation, Anastasy was one of those called upon to capture with his death the power of faith that lurks deeply and indestructibly in the hearts of the oppressed, but undefeated morally Christian population in the East. The reason for his suffering feat was initially one everyday circumstance: he was engaged to the daughter of a local Christian, but having learned by chance that her behavior was not irreproachable, he refused to marry her. The annoyed relatives of the bride resorted to one of the means used by ignorant people to so-called “bewitch” the groom. And in this case, as in many frequent manifestations of similar evil, examples of which, unfortunately, are quite common in our time among the common people, the stimulant influenced the brain, drove Anastasius to a mental disorder, and at this time of his painful unconscious state, the Muslims “turned” him... Anastasia’s strong nature, however, overcame the effect of the stimulating “potion”; he recovered, came to his senses, and then with horror he saw a white Muslim turban on his head... With indignation, he threw it to the ground and exclaimed, seeing himself surrounded by Turks: “I am a Christian, I have always been a Christian and I will remain one!” The Turks captured him and presented him to the judge. Anastasy did not pay any attention to the admonitions and threats of the judge and only said: “I will not renounce the Lord Jesus Christ, my true God; in Him alone I believe and worship Him as my Creator and Savior; I renounce your faith, as well as you and your prophet, and I have not the slightest attraction to it." These words could have no other consequence than a death sentence. But the irritated fanatical people were not content with the sentence of beheading the Christian; it seemed too easy a death for him. The Turks furiously rushed at Anastasius and beat him with sticks, swords, and knives and chopped him into small pieces. Thus, another martyr joined the crowd of Christian victims of Muslim fanaticism. Venerable Tryphon of Kola On the same day of St. Tryphon of Kola. On this day the day of his angel is commemorated. For the life of the saint, see December 16.