GREGORY: There was a man of venerable life, Boniface by name, who held by office and fulfilled by his character the episcopate in that city which is called Ferentis (commemorated 14 May). Of his many miracles Gaudentius the priest, who still survives, relates; who, reared in his service, is able to tell each thing concerning him the more truly, the more it befell him to be present at them. This Church had very grave poverty, which is wont to be for good minds the guardian of humility, and it had nothing else for its whole stipend except one vineyard only; which one day was so devastated by a rushing hailstorm, that in it, upon a few worthless stems, there scarcely remained a small and sparse cluster or two.
When the aforesaid most reverend man of God, Bishop Boniface, had entered it, he rendered great thanks to Almighty God, because he recognized himself to be straitened in his very own want. But when the time now demanded that those very clusters which remained might be able to ripen, he set a keeper of the vineyard as was the custom, and commanded it to be guarded with diligent watchfulness. But one day he charged Constantius the priest, his nephew, that he should prepare all the wine-jars in the episcopal residence, and all the casks, coated over with pitch as he had been accustomed before. When his nephew the priest had heard this, he greatly marveled that he should command as if insane, that wine-jars be prepared by one who had no wine at all;
nevertheless he did not presume to inquire why he ordered such things, but obeying the commands, he prepared everything as was the custom. Then the man of God, entering the vineyard, gathered the clusters, carried them to the wine-press, and commanded all to go out from there, and remained there alone with one little boy, whom he placed in the same wine-press, and made him tread those very few clusters. And when from these same clusters a little wine flowed down, the man of God began to receive it with his own hands in a small vessel, and to divide it among all the casks and all the vessels which had been prepared, by way of blessing, so that from that same wine all the jars might scarcely appear infused.
But when he had put a little from the liquor of the wine into all the vessels, calling the priest at once, he ordered the poor to be present. Then the wine began to grow in the wine-press, so that it filled all the vessels of the poor which had been brought. And when he saw that he had fittingly satisfied them, he ordered the boy to descend from the wine-press, closed the storehouse, and, secured with his own seal impressed upon it, left it, and presently returned to the church. But on the third day he called the aforesaid Constantius the priest, and, prayer having been made, opened the storehouse, and found the vessels, into which he had poured the thinnest liquor, pouring forth wine in abundance, so that all the pavement the overflowing wines would have invaded, had the bishop entered any later.
Then he sternly charged the priest that, as long as he himself lived in the body, he should reveal this miracle to no one; fearing plainly lest, stirred by human favour on account of the power of the deed, he should within grow empty in that very thing whereby he might outwardly appear great before men. He was also following the example of his Master, who, that he might instruct us in the way of humility, gave a like command concerning himself to his disciples, saying that they should tell what they had seen to no one until the Son of Man should rise from the dead (Matthew 17:9). PETER: Since a fitting occasion presents itself, I should like to inquire what it means that our Redeemer, when he restored sight to the two blind men, commanded that they should tell no one, and yet they, departing, spread abroad his fame throughout all that land (Matthew 9:27).
Could it be that the only-begotten Son, coeternal with the Father and the Holy Spirit, in this matter willed something which he was unable to accomplish, so that the miracle which he wished to be kept silent could by no means be concealed? GREGORY: Our Redeemer, in all that he did through his mortal body, gave us therein an example of conduct, so that, following his footsteps according to the measure of our strength, we might tread with unstumbling foot the way of this present life's work. For, working a miracle, he both commanded that it be kept silent, and yet it could not be kept silent; namely, so that his elect too, following the examples of his teaching, might in the great things they do desire to remain hidden, and yet, that they may profit others, might be brought to light against their will;
so that it is a mark of great humility that they long for their works to be kept silent, and a mark of great usefulness that their works cannot be kept silent. The Lord therefore did not will something to be done and prove unable; rather, by the instruction of his teaching he gave an example of what his members ought to will, and of what may be done concerning them even against their will. PETER: What you say pleases me. GREGORY: Let us go on to relate the few things that remain concerning the work of Bishop Boniface, since we have made mention of him. For at another time the birthday of the blessed martyr Proculus was drawing near, in the place where a nobleman named Fortunatus dwelt; and he begged with great entreaties of that same venerable man that, after he had celebrated the solemnities of the Mass at the blessed martyr's shrine, he would turn aside to give a blessing
and turn aside into his house. And the man of God could not refuse what charity, springing from Fortunatus's heart, requested of him. So, when the solemnities of the Mass had been completed and he had come to the table of the aforesaid Fortunatus, before he had said a hymn to God, suddenly there stood before the door a man with an ape—as those are wont to do who seek their livelihood by the art of playing—and he struck cymbals. When the holy man heard the sound, he was indignant and said: 'Alas, alas, this wretched man is dead, this wretched man is dead. I have come to the table of refreshment, I have not yet opened my mouth to the praise of God, and this man, coming with an ape, has struck cymbals.' Yet he added and said: 'Go and, for charity's sake, give him food and drink; know, however, that he is dead.'
When this unhappy man had received bread and wine in that same house and wished to go out of the door, suddenly a huge stone fell from the roof and struck him upon the top of the head. Struck down by this blow, he was lifted up in men's hands, now half alive; but on the next day, according to the sentence of the man of God, he utterly ended his life. In which matter, Peter, it must be pondered how great a fear is to be shown toward holy men; for they are temples of God. And when a holy man is provoked to anger, who else is roused to be angry but the Indweller of that same temple? Therefore the anger of the righteous is to be feared just so much as it is certain that in their hearts is present He who is not powerless to inflict whatever vengeance he wills.
At another time too, the aforesaid priest Constantius, his nephew, sold his horse for twelve gold pieces, which, placing them in his own chest, he then departed to carry out some task. When suddenly poor people came to the bishop's residence and importunately entreated that the holy man Bishop Boniface should bestow something on them for the consolation of their want. But the man of God, since he had nothing to give, began to be anxious in his thoughts lest the poor should go away from him empty. Then it suddenly came back to his memory that Constantius the priest, his nephew, had sold the horse he had been accustomed to ride, and that he had this very sum of money in his chest.
So, in the absence of that nephew of his, he went to the chest and, piously violent, broke to pieces the fastenings of the chest, took out the twelve gold pieces, and, as it pleased him, distributed them to the needy. And so Constantius the priest, returning from his work, found the chest broken and did not find the price of his horse which he had placed in it. He therefore began to make an uproar with a loud voice and to cry out with excessive rage: 'All men live here; I alone cannot live in this house.' At his cries the bishop, of course, came, and all who were present in that same residence. And when the man of God wished to calm him with soothing speech, he began to answer with wrangling, saying: 'All men live with you; I alone cannot live here before you. Give me back my gold pieces.'
Moved by these words, the bishop entered the church of blessed Mary, ever-Virgin, and with hands uplifted and his garment stretched out, standing, he began to pray that God would give him back the means whereby he might soothe the madness of the raging priest. And when he suddenly lowered his eyes to his garment stretched between his outstretched arms, at once he found in its fold twelve gold pieces so shining as though they had that very hour been drawn out of the fire. Then, going out of the church, he cast them into the bosom of the raging priest, saying: 'Behold the gold pieces which you sought; but let this be a sign to you, that after my death you shall not be bishop of this church, because of your avarice.'
From the truth of this sentence it is gathered that the priest was preparing those same gold pieces in order to obtain the episcopate. But the word of the man of God prevailed, for the same Constantius ended his life in the office of the priesthood. At another time too, two Goths came to him for the sake of hospitality, who declared they were hastening to Ravenna. To them he gave with his own hand a small wooden vessel full of wine, which they might perhaps have as provision for the meal of their journey; from this the Goths drank until they reached Ravenna. Now they stayed some days in that city, and the wine which they had received from the holy man they used daily.
And thus they returned all the way to that same venerable Father at Ferentis, so that on no day did they cease to drink, and yet the wine from that little vessel never failed them, as though in that wooden vessel which the bishop had given the wine were not being increased but rather being born anew. Recently too there came from the districts of that same place a certain aged cleric, who relates concerning him things that are not to be passed over in silence. For he says that on a certain day, entering his garden, he found it covered with a great multitude of caterpillars; and, seeing all his vegetables perishing, he turned to those same caterpillars and said: 'I adjure you in the name of the Lord our God Jesus Christ, depart from here, and do not eat these vegetables.'
At the word of the man of God they all at once so departed that not even one of them remained within the space of the garden. But what wonder that we relate these things about the time of his episcopate, when he had already grown, before Almighty God, both in rank and in character together, since those things are far more to be wondered at which this aged cleric testifies he did while yet a little boy? For he says that at the time when as a boy he was living with his mother, going out of his lodging he would often return without his linen shirt, and frequently even without his tunic, because as soon as he found anyone naked, he clothed him, stripping himself, that before God's eyes he might clothe himself with that man's reward.
His mother had been accustomed frequently to rebuke him, saying that it was not right that she, being herself needy, should bestow garments on the poor. On a certain day she entered the granary and found nearly all the wheat which she had prepared for herself as the provision of the whole year spent by her son upon the poor. And when she was beating herself with slaps and blows because she had, as it were, lost the year's sustenance, Boniface, the boy of God, came upon her and began to console her with such words as he could. And when she would admit no consolation, he asked her that she should go out of the granary, in which but a little was found remaining out of all their wheat.
The boy beloved of God straightway gave himself there to prayer; and after a little while, going out, he brought his mother back to the granary, which was found so full of wheat as it had not been full before, when his mother had rejoiced to have gathered the sustenance of the whole year. Struck by the sight of this miracle, the mother herself now began to urge that he should give, since what she asked could so quickly be received. And so she had been accustomed to raise hens in the entrance-hall of her lodging; but a fox coming from the neighbouring countryside used to carry them off. Now on a certain day, while the boy Boniface was standing in that same entrance-hall, the fox came as was its wont and carried off a hen. But he, greatly stirred, entered the church and, prostrating himself in prayer, said with open voice:
'Does it please you, Lord, that I should not be able to eat of my mother's rearing? Behold, the fox has eaten the hens which she raises.' Rising from prayer, he went out of the church. Presently the fox returned, let go the hen which it held in its mouth, and, itself dying, fell to the ground before his eyes. PETER: It is very wonderful that God deigns to hear the prayers of those who hope in him, even in trivial matters. GREGORY: This, Peter, is done by the great dispensation of our Creator, that through the least things which we receive we may be led to hope for greater; for the holy and simple boy was heard in trivial matters, so that in small things he might learn how much he ought to presume concerning God in great petitions. PETER: What you say pleases me.