宗教史(敘利亞苦修者傳) 第 1 章 第 2/13 段

Then the king of the Persians—his name was Sapor—despising the sons as not being capable of the same things as their father, marched against Nisibis with a very great cavalry and a very great infantry force.

He also brought as many elephants as possible.

And dividing his army as for a siege, he encamped around it in a circle, set up siege-engines, and built towers; and driving in palisades and fencing round the space between them, basket-fashion, with branches, he ordered the soldiers to heap up earth, and to raise towers to match the city's towers.

Then, stationing archers up there and ordering them to loose their arrows against those standing on the wall, he ordered others to undermine the wall from below.

But when all these measures came to nothing, being undone by the prayer of that inspired man, at last, damming with a multitude of hands the current of the river flowing nearby, and gathering up as much as possible of the river thus checked by the barrier, he let it loose all at once against the wall, using this as it were for a most violent engine.

But the wall could not bear the onrush of the water; rather, shaken by its force, the whole of it in that section utterly collapsed.

And they raised a great shout, since the city had now become easy to take;

for they did not know of the great wall of the inhabitants.

Nevertheless they postponed the assault, seeing that the city had become impassable because of the waters.

Withdrawing, then, to a distance, as though their labor had now abated, they themselves rested, and tended their horses.

Meanwhile those dwelling within turned to more earnest supplications, having the great James as their intercessor;

and all who were of military age rebuilt the wall in haste, taking no care for beauty or symmetry, but fitting together everything at random—stones, bricks, and whatever anyone brought;

and in a single night the work advanced, and reached a height sufficient to prevent both the charge of horses and the ascent of men without ladders.

Then all besought the man of God to appear upon the wall and to strike down the enemy with curses.

And he complied and went up; and having beheld their many myriads, he besought God to send upon them a cloud of gnats and mosquitoes.

And even as he spoke, God sent them, hearkening to him just as He had once hearkened to Moses.

And the men were wounded by these divine darts, while the horses and the elephants, bursting their tethers, fled, scattering hither and thither, unable to bear those stings.

When, then, the impious king saw that all his engines had brought no benefit whatsoever, and that the assault of the river had proved fruitless (for the wall that had fallen had been rebuilt), and that his whole army was worn out by its hardships, suffering in the open air, and driven by the God-sent plague, and when he also saw the divine man walking upon the wall, and supposed him, standing over the work, to be the emperor himself—for he was seen wearing a purple robe and a diadem—he grew angry at those who had deceived him and persuaded him to campaign, and had said that the emperor was not present.

And pronouncing a sentence of death against them, he disbanded his army and returned to his own royal residence with all speed.

Such wonders did God work also in the case of this new Hezekiah—not lesser than those of old, but even greater, as it seems to me at least.

For that the city, though its wall had fallen, was not taken—what greater excess of wonder does this leave to be surpassed? And besides this, I marvel exceedingly at this too: that although he made use of curses, he did not ask for thunderbolts and lightning to be brought down, as that great Elijah did, when each of the two captains of fifty came to him with his company of fifty.

For he had heard the Lord say plainly to James and John, when they attempted to do this very thing:

So great was the boldness of access which this divine man had toward God;

so great was the grace he enjoyed from above.

Continuing in these things, and increasing daily in things divine, he laid aside this life with the greatest renown, and set forth upon his departure from here.

And when time had passed and this city too was handed over to the Persian kingdom by the ruler then in power, all who dwelt in the city went forth, carrying the body of their champion, grieving and lamenting over their migration, yet singing of the power of their victorious hero.

For had he still been alive, they would not have fallen under the barbarians.

Having related these things concerning this divine man, I shall pass on to another narrative, praying to obtain a share of his blessing.

JULIAN. Julian, whom the local people, honoring him, called by the surname Saba—which name signifies 'the elder' in the Greek tongue—pitched his ascetic hut in the land once called that of the Parthians, but now called that of the Osrhoenians;

a land which extends westward as far as the very bank of the river—the Euphrates is its name—while toward the rising sun it has the boundary of the Roman dominion;

for Assyria succeeds it there, being the western limit of the Persian kingdom, which men afterward called Adiabene.

In this nation there are many cities, great and populous, and a very great tract of inhabited land, and a very great tract that is uninhabited and desert.

Having reached the outermost edge of this desert, this divine man found a cave that was not man-made, nor well and finely hewn, but able to afford only a slight shelter to those wishing to take refuge there; and he gladly dwelt in that place, deeming it more precious than palaces resplendent with gold and silver.

In this he continued to live, partaking of food once a week.

His food was barley bread, and even that mixed with bran; his relish was salt; and his sweetest drink was the naturally-flowing stream of waters—and this, too, was not measured by satiety, but limited by the need arising from the food already taken.

And enjoying these insatiably, he did not wish to attain satiety, but was ever being filled, and ever crying out:

"How sweet are your words to my throat, above honey and the honeycomb to my mouth!"

"The judgments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether; more desirable than gold and much precious stone, and sweeter than honey and the honeycomb."

Again he heard him saying:

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the petitions of your heart."

"Let the heart of those who seek the Lord rejoice." And:

"Gladden my heart, that I may fear your name." And:

"Taste and see that the Lord is good." And:

"My soul thirsted for God, the mighty, the living God." And:

"My soul has clung fast after you." And he transferred to himself the love of the one who had spoken these words.

And he was not disappointed in his hope, but this love wounded this inspired man himself, and countless others besides, with divine longing.

For he received so great a torch of affection that he was intoxicated with longing, and saw nothing of earthly things, but dreamed by night and beheld visions by day of the Beloved alone.

Many, having learned of this extreme philosophy of his—some dwelling nearby, others from afar (for winged rumor ran everywhere)—hastened, beseeching to share in his wrestling-school, and to live thenceforth under him as under some trainer and coach.

For not only do birds hunt birds, singing and calling their own kind to themselves, and impaling them on the snares set about, but men also hunt their own kind—some for ruin, others for salvation.

Gathering together in this way, they quickly numbered ten, then twice and thrice that number, and afterward they filled up the number of a hundred.

And though they had become so many, that same cave received them all;

for they had learned from the Elder to disregard the care of the body.

And they too, like their trainer, fed on barley bread seasoned with salt.

But later, gathering also wild-growing vegetables, then loading them into earthenware jars and mixing in as much brine as sufficed, those who needed such care had a relish.

But damp dwellings are hostile to this vegetable;

for dampness tends by nature to produce mould and rot in it;

[so they entreated him] to permit them to build a small hut, sufficient for the vessels of this relish.

At first, he did not accept the request.

But at last, being persuaded—for he had been taught by the great Paul not to seek his own things, but to be led along with the lowly—he granted certain small and modest dimensions for the little hut, and himself went off far from the cave, to offer to God his accustomed supplications.

For he was accustomed often to walk fifty stades into the desert, and sometimes even twice that distance, separating himself from all human company, and turning inward upon himself, to converse with God by himself, and to behold as in a mirror that divine and ineffable beauty.

Seizing this opportunity, those who had been deemed worthy of his care built the little hut—proportionate to the need, but larger than they had been instructed.

And returning after the tenth day, like a certain Moses, from the mountain and his ineffable contemplation, and seeing that the building had become larger than he wished:

"And yet these things are temporary, and suited to us for but a little while, while those things are eternal and can have no end."

These, then, were the words he would speak, training the community in the more perfect things.

Yet he bore with it nonetheless, having heeded the apostolic voice:

"I seek not my own advantage, but that of the many, that they may be saved."

He also trained them to offer common hymnody to God within [the dwelling], and after dawn to go out into the desert two by two, and one, bending the knees, to offer the worship owed to the Master, while the other, standing, sang fifteen Davidic psalms; then to alternate the task, the one rising to sing, the other bowing down to the ground to worship;

and this they continued doing from early morning until late evening.

Before sunset, resting a little, they would gather into the cave, these from one side, those from another, all from every direction, and together offer the evening hymnody to the Master.

The Elder himself was also accustomed to take one of the more distinguished disciples as a companion in the service.

A certain man followed him more frequently than the rest—Persian by race, great in stature and admirable, possessing a soul more marvelous than his stature; his name was James—who, even after that man's death, shone forth in every virtue,

and he was distinguished and renowned not only among the people there, but also among the ascetic communities of Syria, among whom he also died, having lived, as it is said, one hundred and four years.

This man, having shared the journey into the desert with the great Elder, followed at a distance;

for the teacher did not allow him to draw near, lest this become an occasion for them to converse, and the conversation steal from the mind its contemplation concerning God.

Following behind, he saw along the road a huge serpent lying [there];

then, having seen it, he did not dare go forward, and though out of fear he often wished to turn aside, his reasoning was strengthened again;

then, stooping down and taking a pebble and hurling it, he saw the serpent remain in its posture, utterly unable to move.

Understanding that it was dead, he supposed the death of the beast to be the Elder's doing.

Having completed the journey and fulfilled the service of hymnody, when the hour for rest came, the Elder sat down and bade him also rest his body a little; and at first he sat in silence;

but when the Elder touched on some conversation, James, with a certain smile, besought him to make clear to him what he did not know.

When the Elder permitted him to ask,

"I saw," he said, "along the road a very great serpent lying stretched out, and at first I was afraid, supposing it to be alive;

but when I saw that it was dead, I took courage and continued on my way.

And no one else has passed this way." But the Elder said:

"Cease," he said, "busying yourself with such matters, which can bring no benefit to those concerned with them." But nonetheless the admirable James persisted, desiring to learn the truth.

The Elder, though trying for a long while to conceal it, yet unable any longer to bear distressing the one who loved him;

"I will tell you," he said, "what you desire to learn, but I charge you that, while I live, you make no one else privy to what will be said;

for such things ought to be concealed, since they often give rise to arrogance and conceit.

But if I depart from here and become free of such passions, I do not forbid you to speak and to relate the power of the divine grace."

"Know well, then," said the great Julian, "that as I was walking along the road, that beast came upon me and opened its mouth, wishing to devour me.

But I, invoking the name of the Lord and tracing with my finger the trophy of the cross, shook off all fear, and I saw the beast immediately fall to the ground; and, having hymned our common Savior, I continued on my way."

Having thus concluded the narrative, he rose and set out on the road toward the cave.

At another time a young man—sprung from a noble family, but delicately reared, and possessed of an eagerness greater than his strength—besought the Elder to share with him the journey into the desert: not the common one that everyone traveled every day, but the longest one, which often took up seven days, and often even ten, of travel away.

This was the much-celebrated Asterius.

When the divinely-inspired Elder sought to dissuade the young man, telling him of the desert's lack of water, the young man persisted, earnestly begging to enjoy this gift.

Overcome by his entreaties, the Elder yielded.

At first he followed eagerly;

but when the first, second, and third day had passed, being scorched by the sun's rays—for it was summer, and summer at its height naturally brings a fiercer heat—he continued to be worn out by thirst.

And at first he was ashamed to declare his suffering, recalling to mind what had been foretold by the teacher;

but being overcome and seized by faintness, he besought the Elder to have pity on him.

He, reminding him of his predictions, again bade him depart [back].

When the young man said that he neither knew the road leading to the cave, nor, even if he knew it, would be able to walk it, his strength having been spent by thirst, the divine man, taking pity on the young man's suffering and granting pardon for the weakness of his body, bent his knees and besought the Master, and wetted the ground with hot tears, seeking a means of deliverance for the young man.

He who does the will of those who fear him and hears their petition made the trickle of tears, once it touched the dust, into a spring of water;

and thus, when the young man had drunk his fill of the stream, he immediately bade him depart.

And the spring has remained even to this day, bearing witness to the Mosaic prayer of the divinely-inspired old man.

For just as that man of old, striking with his staff that barren rock, flooded it with a birth of river waters so as to satisfy those many thirsting thousands, so this divine man, having watered that most dry sand with his tears, drew forth streams of spring water—not to relieve the thirst of many myriads, but of a single youth.

For his soul, illumined by divine grace, foresaw very clearly the perfection that would come to be in the young man.

…having been appointed [by providence]—he established there his ascetic training-ground.

And he drew to himself many other athletes of the ascetic life; he drew also the great Acacius—I mean the truly famous, much-celebrated one—who distinguished himself in the monastic way of life, and sent forth the bright rays of his virtue, being deemed worthy of the high priesthood and allotted to shepherd Beroea.

Having been entrusted with the care of this flock for fifty-eight years, he did not abandon the form of the ascetic way of life, but blended ascetic and civic virtue;

and taking from the one its precision, and from the other its practical management, he brought together into one what had been separate.

But that Asterius became both a pursuer and a trainer of this virtue, who remained so ardent a lover of the great Elder that he often made the journey to him twice a year, and often even three times.

And whenever he arrived, he was accustomed to bring dried figs to the community, loading the burdens onto three or four beasts of burden.

And carrying this burden he walked—not ten or twenty stadia, but completing a journey of seven days.

And once, when the Elder saw him carrying the load of figs on his shoulders, he was displeased and said that he would not make food of these, for it was not right that that man should endure so much toil while he himself indulged in that man's sweat.

But when he swore that he would not free his shoulders of the burden unless the Elder agreed to partake of the food that had been brought,

"I will do," said the old man, "as you ask; only put down the sack as quickly as possible."

For in this too he imitated the first of the apostles, who, when the Lord wished to wash his feet, at first refused, insisting firmly that this would not happen.

But when he heard that he would be cut off from communion with the Master unless he permitted this, he besought him to wash also his hands together with his feet, and his head.

So too the great John, when bidden to baptize the Savior, first confessed his own servitude and pointed out who was the Master;

but afterward he carried out what was commanded, not exercising presumption, but obeying the Master.

So too this divine man was reluctant, while another labored, himself to enjoy the food;

but when he saw the most ardent eagerness of the one who served him, he preferred that man's service to his own choice.

And perhaps someone among those fond of finding fault, and taught only to mock what is good, might say that this narrative is not worth recording.

But I have added this to the man's other wonder-workings, wishing not only to show the reverence great men had for him, but also considering it profitable to reveal the sweetness and moderation of his character.

For being so great and of such virtue, he did not consider himself worthy even of ordinary honor, and rejected it as belonging to him from no quarter, yet again endured it, as benefiting those who offered it.

Fleeing from this honor—for having become known to all, he drew to himself through his fame the lovers of good things—he at last set out for Mount Sinai with a few of his more familiar companions, entering no city, no village, but making the impassable desert passable.

…and having pressed it out, they would drink it into the cup.

So then, having completed a journey of many days, they reached the longed-for mountain and, having worshiped their own Master, they remained there a long time, considering the solitude of the place and the stillness of soul the greatest delight.

And in that rock, beneath which Moses, chief of the prophets, hiding, was deemed worthy to see God insofar as it was possible to see him, he built a church and consecrated a divine altar, which has remained even to this day, and [then] returned to his own training-ground.

Having learned of the threats of the emperor who shared his name but was impious—for having threatened utter destruction to the pious, he had set out on the campaign against the Persians, and those of like mind eagerly awaited that dreaded return—at that time, having offered earnest prayer to God and extended it to the tenth day, he heard a voice declaring that the abominable and foul-smelling swine had been slain.

But even though the prayer had already received its fulfillment, he did not at once conclude it, but turned the petition into hymnody, sending up a thanksgiving hymn to the Savior of both his own people and strangers, who is long-suffering yet mighty against his enemy;

for he had shown great long-suffering toward the impious one for a very long time;

But since forbearance had schooled the accursed one into still greater frenzy, it brought upon him, in due season, his punishment.

Having finished his prayer and turned toward his companions, he plainly had a cheerful mind.

For his countenance showed itself radiant with gladness.

When those present marveled at the strangeness of the sight—for though he always appeared somber, he was then seen smiling—and inquired the reason,

he said, "The present hour, O men, is one for joy and gladness;

for the impious one has ceased, according to the voice of Isaiah, and has paid a penalty worthy of his audacities; and having played the tyrant against the God who made and saved him, he has received just slaughter at the hand of a subject."

Concerning the slaying of this impious man, then, he was granted such foreknowledge.

And when Valens too, who after him received the reins of Roman rule, forsook the truth of the evangelical doctrines and accepted the deceit of Arius' error, then a greater tempest arose against the Church, its pilots being driven off on every side, and certain pirates and enemies being brought in instead.

And that I may not now recount that whole tragedy, I shall leave the rest aside, and mention only one thing, which will clearly show the grace of the divine Spirit that flowered upon this Elder.

The great Meletius had been driven out from the city of the Antiochenes—he who had been entrusted by the God of all to shepherd it;

and all those belonging to the sacred clergy, together with the like-minded people who confessed the one divine essence of the Trinity, had been driven out from the divine temples.

And now occupying the foot of the mountain, they held their sacred assemblies there;

now they made the river-bank a place of prayer;

at other times, the military drill-ground situated before the northern gate.

For those who warred against them would not allow the pious to settle in one single place.

The nurslings of falsehood spread rumors and sowed a report throughout that city, that the great Julian—this Elder, I mean—embraced communion with the doctrines they professed in worship,

and would entangle the people in the nets of heretics.

The divine Acacius hastened, and taking with him the great Asterius, as he had been bidden, came to the greatest luminary of the Church, and having greeted him,

said, "Tell me, father, for what reason do you endure all this labor with delight?" And when he replied:

"The service of God is more precious to me than body and soul, than life and my whole existence; and I strive, as far as I am able, to offer Him a ministry pure of defilement, and to please Him in all things." "I will show you," said Acacius, "a way by which you may serve Him even more than now, and this I say, relying not merely on reasoning, but as one who has learned it from His own teaching.

For once, having asked Peter whether he loved Him more than the others did, and having learned—what He already knew even before Peter's answer—

'Lord, You know that I love You'—He showed him what he should do to serve Him more:

"If you love Me," He said, "shepherd My sheep and feed My lambs."

This too, father, you must do.

For the flocks are in danger of being destroyed by wolves, and He whom you love loves them exceedingly;

and it is the very nature of those who love, to do those things which, when done, delight the beloved.

Besides, it is no small danger, and a waste of those many great labors of yours, if you should bear to abandon, in silence, the truth being harshly assailed, and those devoted to it being hunted down, while your own name becomes the bait for those being hunted;

for the champions of Arius' abomination boast wantonly that they have you as a partner in their impiety." As soon as he heard this, the Elder, bidding stillness farewell for the time, and undaunted by the strangeness of civic tumults, hastened to Antioch.

A certain wealthy woman, learning that this sacred company had arrived, ran to gather their blessing;

and rolling herself before their feet, she besought that her house might become their lodging.

The Elder yielded, although for more than forty years he had been withdrawn from such a scene.

While that admirable woman, who emulated the hospitality of Sarah, was occupied in attending to those holy men—she being mother of an only seven-year-old child—as evening and darkness came on, the child fell into the well.

When, as was natural, an uproar arose over this, the mother, perceiving it, bade everyone keep silence, and having placed a covering over the well, continued her ministry.

When the table had been laid before the holy men, the divine Elder ordered that the woman's child be called in and partake of the blessing.

When the admirable woman said that he was held fast by illness, he insisted, bidding that the child be brought.

So, having fastened someone with ropes and let him down, they drew the child up, who at once ran to the Elder's feet, saying that he had seen him carrying him in the waters and preventing him from being submerged.

Such was the reward for her hospitality that the admirable woman received from the blessed Elder.

And that I may leave aside the other things that happened along the way, they arrived at Antioch;

and everyone came running together from every side, some longing to see the man of God, each one desiring to obtain some cure for his affliction.

He lodged in the caves at the foot of the mountain;

where they say the divine apostle, the blessed Paul, also lodged and hid himself.

But immediately—so that all might learn that he was indeed a man—a most violent onset of fever seized him.

When the great Acacius saw the multitude that had gathered, and was troubled at the illness that had befallen him—for he supposed that those who had assembled would be struck with dismay, if the men who were expecting to obtain healing by that man's hand should learn of the sickness—

"Do not lose heart," said the Elder;

"for if health is truly needful, God will grant even this at once."

Then immediately after these words, turning to supplication, and, as was his custom, bringing his knees and forehead to the ground, he besought to obtain health, if indeed any benefit should thereby come to those who had assembled.

He had not yet finished the prayer, when a great sweat, breaking out suddenly, quenched the flame of the fever.

From there, having freed many from illnesses of every kind, he went to the assembly of the pious.

When this happened, the whole multitude of the city streamed together, and the military drill-ground became filled with those running there.

The slanderers and craftsmen of falsehood were put to shame, while the nurslings of piety were filled with every good cheer and gladness.

From there, those in need of healing dragged the luminary of piety into their houses.