Luke the Younger

ON SAINT LUKE THE YOUNGER, THE WONDERWORKER, OF SOTERIUM IN GREECE.

Around the Year 946.

Preliminary Commentary.

Luke the Younger, Wonderworker, of Soterium in Greece (Saint)

By the author G. H.

[1] Saint Luke illuminated many places of Greece, or Hellas, by his birth, habitation, and the splendor of his virtues. The very many cures of various illnesses that occurred at his tomb in Attica seem to have given the place its name, Saint Luke so that it was called Soterion, then by contraction in the course of time, Sterion. On account of miracles From these same miracles, performed either while he was living or after death, he himself also received the surname of Wonderworker. He was also called "the Younger," not in relation to the Evangelist or any other ancient Martyr named Luke. Wonderworker For this surname generally indicates either proximity of place, or connection of family, or parity of way of life and deeds. "The Younger," therefore, this Luke was in comparison with another Luke, the Younger, in relation to Saint Luke of Sicily who, a father of monks on Mount Etna in Sicily, set out for Constantinople to establish monastic life in Sicily, and thence, returning to Corinth, fell asleep in holiness in a certain neighboring village on November 6. Who died in the same region before the year 828. He was buried not far from the Soterion of our Luke; and he was somewhat senior to him. For since Sicily came into the power of the Saracens from the year 828, and was never afterward fully and firmly restored to the Constantinople Empire, this Sicilian Luke seems to have lived before that time.

[2] There was also another Saint Luke, likewise called "the Younger," because he imitated the ancient institution of the Stylites, or Kionites. This man, after fighting unsuccessfully as a soldier under the Emperors Romanus the Elder and Constantine Porphyrogennetos against the Bulgarians (about which wars we shall treat in the Notes below), was initiated into the priesthood, senior to another Saint Luke the Younger, a Stylite and after other pious exercises stood on a column for three years; then lived for some time on Mount Olympus; and finally, going to Chalcedon, stood on a column for forty-five years. Who died around the year 946. He was almost the same number of years younger than this Saint Luke whom we are treating, who seems to have died in the year 946, having been born under Leo the Wise, father of Porphyrogennetos, around the year 890. That Stylite is venerated on December 11.

[3] But this Wonderworker, the Younger Luke, is celebrated by the Greeks in the Menaea on February 7 as follows: He is venerated on February 7. "On the same day, the memory of our Holy Father Luke in Hellas." Where in the appended couplet they allude to the surname of Wonderworker in these words:

"Luke filled Greece with miracles, Who even in death does not cease to work wonders."

This Saint is the offspring and delight of Hellas, with this eulogy among the Greeks whose ancestors, originating from the island of Aegina and unable to bear the perpetual incursions of the Agarenes, migrated and betook themselves to Hellas, in which the Blessed Luke was born. From boyhood he abstained not only from meat, but also from eggs and cheese; barley bread, water, and legumes were his food and drink. He tormented his body with every kind of austerity and affliction; to give food to himself when hungry, or to put a garment on himself when cold, he regarded as luxury and excess. Accordingly, having often given away his cloak to others, he returned naked. When he poured forth prayers to God, he was elevated above the floor and did not seem to touch the ground with his feet. When indeed he undertook the monastic life, it cannot be said how great an abstinence and affliction of the body the Blessed one underwent. Going about all the coastal places and changing his residence, he was a source of salvation to many through miracles. Afterward, having ceased changing places, he fixed his abode at Sterium, where, after seven years had been spent, having predicted the date of his own death, he made an end of living. So say the Greeks in the Menaea, and Maximus of Cythera in the Life of the Saints says nearly the same things. Molanus, citing the Greeks, has the following in his supplement to Usuard: "On the seventh day, Saint Parthenius, Bishop of Lampsacus, and Saint Luke in Soterium of Greece" -- indeed Sterium, or rather Soterium. On Saint Parthenius we treated above. The Greeks celebrate both with solemn veneration.

[4] The Life of Saint Luke was written by a contemporary author, and, as it appears, a monk who was his disciple, The Life was written by a contemporary author certainly a companion of his travels and flight. He testifies to this in number 63 with these words: "When we had once thus taken flight, and both of us together, companions in flight, I and the Father, had secretly entered a certain cave, a companion in flight two women wandering came upon us... We received them within the cave with us." At the time this Life was published, his sister Cale, a nun, was still living, instructed by his sister whom the author asserts in number 3 narrated to him the things pertaining to his ancestors and early upbringing. Philip the Spatharius was also still living, who proclaimed that the miracle related in number 65 had been done for him, and justly condemned himself for having unjustly condemned Justus. And by other eyewitnesses. So also the monk Gregory, healed from illness by his aid, is said in number 57 to be still a living and trustworthy witness. And another disciple, after his death, confirmed under a solemn oath in number 18 the things he performed on the mountain of Johannitza before the Bulgarian incursion. Finally, the author prefaces that he is writing these things not many courses of days -- that is, years -- having elapsed since his departure; and moreover that he was seen and well known by the eyes of many whom life still kept alive, not only the older ones but also the younger. He completes the work after the year 961. Moreover, at that time, in accordance with the prediction of Saint Luke, the island of Crete had been wrested from the tyranny of the Saracens, which occurred in the year 961.

[5] The most Reverend Father Francis Combefis, Theologian of the Congregation of Saint Louis of the Order of Preachers, was the first to extract from the Greek manuscript codex of the Medici collection of the Most Christian King Combefis first extracted it this Life of Saint Luke the Younger, and published an excerpt of it in volume 2 of the new Supplement to the Greek-Latin Library of the Fathers, in which chiefly the history of the Monothelite heresy and the vindication of the holy Acts of the Sixth Council against it are set forth. He prefaces that these Acts are very illustrious and not useless for the ecclesiastical history of those times, even though Baronius was ignorant of the very name of so great a man, even that of Luke the Younger. But that they were too prolix for him to think it convenient to give them in their entirety. And communicated the Latin translation to us. When we asked for the complete text, he most graciously communicated it to us, rendered into Latin by himself, and set forth his judgment to us thus: "You have," he said, "the full and complete Life of Luke the Younger and truly the Wonderworker, as the Medici codex of the Most Christian King represented it, which you sought from me. With this accompanying letter. In it miracles compete everywhere with virtues, so that you can scarcely decide whether those things kindle more desire to imitate the illustrious deeds of the man, or whether they inspire stupor from those things which he miraculously performed by divine authority. The writer is everywhere careful, serious, polished in style and method, and also florid, where occasion arose, with the gems of his sentiments; of special trustworthiness, since he presents many witnesses of what he narrates who were still living, and wrote nearly as a contemporary of the Saint. That Luke did not shrink from communion with the Roman Church and the Latins is indicated by the intimacy expressed here and there in these Acts between himself and monks who would go to Rome as envoys or return from there. Through you, therefore, and through your others who wonderfully enrich the Christian world with a most ample and choice harvest, may the library treasure of the Most Christian King bring forth this monument, joined to them, for public use -- that library rich to all, hitherto niggardly to none, and perhaps still pregnant with things opportune to your enterprise. May God preserve you safe for many years, and may the Saints, for whose glory you labor,

assist you. Farewell, from Paris, in the house of the Preachers of the Most Holy Annunciation, November 6, in the year 1651." So wrote that most gracious man.

[6] The title prefixed to this Life is as follows: "Life and manner of living, and partial narrative of miracles, of our holy Father and wonderworker, Title of the Life. Luke the Younger, who reposes in Hellas."

LIFE

By an anonymous monk, his disciple. Translated by Francis Combefis, Theologian of the Order of Preachers, from the Greek Manuscript of the Most Christian King.

Luke the Younger, Wonderworker, of Soterium in Greece (Saint)

By a contemporary author, from a Greek Manuscript, translated by Francis Combefis.

PROLOGUE OF THE AUTHOR.

[1] It was plainly never time that was the cause of a good and studious life, but the mind alone and a will that loves what is good and honorable. This is shown both from many others who not long ago displayed a life irreproachable to many and falling short little or nothing from the illustrious brightness of the ancients; the memory of Saint Luke celebrated after his death and especially from him whose day is celebrated for us today -- Luke, I say, who took great pains to be obscure and to hide his life, yet shone forth with the copious light of virtue; so that he became known to nearly all, and it was truly worthy that he should become known, who had so lived. Not many cycles of days having now elapsed since his departure, and moreover being seen by the eyes of many whom life still keeps alive -- and these not only the elderly but also the younger -- well known, he confirmed the virtue of the ancients equally, and that which scarcely finds credence; and showed that the steep, arduous, and to most inaccessible path of the way leading to virtue is not inherent in the nature of virtue itself, but rather in the mind and will of those who, through weakness and softness of spirit, shrink from things that are good indeed but arduous and beset with labors. His illustrious deeds and labors are so beloved by all and distill such sweetness that even the bare memory of him abundantly suffices to kindle fervor in the soul and a life worthy of imitation and to create joy in it. It is therefore worthwhile for all to know whence he sprang, how he ordered his life, and what good things he merited to obtain from that good Spirit; for these things will contribute not only to pleasure but will also bring no small profit and benefit to the soul.

CHAPTER I.

The Ancestors of Saint Luke: His Homeland: His Adolescence.

[2] Luke, good in all things and great, is the offspring of Hellas, or rather its ornament and most desirable delight; The ancestors of Saint Luke originated from Aegina. I would add also, a crown of glory. For he did not appear ungrateful to his homeland; indeed he repaid it with illustrious and brilliant heaps of blessings. His ancestors drew their origin from the island of Aegina -- Aegina, I say, situated in the Aegean gulf. They, judging the continual invasions of the Agarenes to be unbearable, on account of the Saracens they themselves and all the other inhabitants, leaving the bright soil of their fatherland for the sake of redeeming their lives, migrating and dispersed through various cities, adopted stepmothers in place of their mother. They leave their homeland. Some occupied the land of Cecrops, others that of Pelops, others that of Cadmus, and still others various regions and places, and in them were forced to fix their abodes.

[3] The grandparents of the divine Luke, therefore, migrating to the province of Phocis, or Chrysis, The grandfather dwells in Phocis at the mount of Johannitza. pitched the tents of their sojourn at a certain maritime mountain called Ioannis. However, since during those times (by which judgments he knows, whose judgments are a great abyss) Psalm 36:7 the Ishmaelites, infesting the sea and plundering every gulf, port, and shore, were also (alas!) making incursions into those parts, they were again compelled to yield their place. Seeking therefore a certain port named Bathys, convenient and calm for breezes, they established their home; then in the port of Bathys where, having remained for no small time, they merited to beget the father of the admirable Luke, and honoring him with the name of the first of the Martyrs, they appropriately arranged for him to be raised in accordance with that name. But from here too, summoned by a certain divine beckoning, then in the town of Castorium migrating to a certain town named Castorium, they dwelt there. Here, making some end of their wandering, they seemed to receive some consolation for the exile in which they had wandered outside their homeland. And although this did not happen immediately then, it nevertheless occurred without a very long delay. For he who was the companion and helper of the wandering Jacob, and enriched the poor man with wealth, and who brought back rich in herds of cattle and flocks of sheep the one who had first crossed the streams of the Jordan with only a staff -- he himself, plainly blessing openly the livestock and the remaining substance of these people too, he grows wealthy endowed them with such increase that not only did they seem inferior to none in possessions, but they even surpassed the natives of those places by no small amount, and in them that saying of Job was perfectly fulfilled -- that their paths would be heavy, and the Lord would visit their house. Genesis 32:10 Job 29:4

[4] But here too the eye of envy could not bear it, inflaming the inhabitants of the town to open malice, about to be expelled by the inhabitants as once the Egyptians were against the children of Israel. These people, driven by malice, not being able even to see them at all, drove them out as strangers and foreigners, and attempted to banish them from their borders. Not otherwise than pagans, though they were of the same faith, they harassed, expelled, and struck them with every kind of evil, though they had injured no one. Pressed by this grave distress, Luke's grandfather, being of such a nature that he could not be induced either to resist or contend, nor yet again to keep changing one place for another, or to be driven and chased away by anyone like some fugitive slave, he approaches the Emperor as quickly as he could sought the Emperor, relying on no human, but solely on divine protection. With God therefore as his guide and patron, the journey being accomplished without any difficulty and easily, when he had piously and devoutly approached the one then holding power, with no intermediary, and had clearly set forth his individual circumstances, he was kindly heard by him and deemed worthy of a gracious look. For immediately providing imperial letters and joining to them an officer of the imperial commands, he ordered him to return full of joy. Protected by his letters, he dwells there. When the officer had arrived, dividing the town and all its property in half, he made habitation secure for both parties thenceforth, so that the natives received one part and the newcomers and foreigners the other, and from then on they ceased from all fighting and discord; and led a common life in great peace and tranquility. And so much for these matters.

[5] Stephen, the son born from that man, having passed through childhood and attained the vigor of youth, Stephen the father and being well advanced through the whole intermediate time, and as was fitting for a son, so that his studious character might bring greater parental love than mere natural birth itself -- when the opportune time for marriage had now arrived, by the provident care of his parents he was given in marriage to a woman named Euphrosyne, joined in marriage to Euphrosyne who was indeed from the same homeland and the same freeborn nobility. From her seven children were born to Stephen -- a perfect number, and one most celebrated in Scripture -- so that even in this respect they would surpass many, and might learn that the whole matter was a gift of God, not a work of nature. The first was Theodore; next to him was Mary; the fourth is called Cale, and she is the surviving narrator of these things, and to this day

cultivates the exercises of the monastic life. The fifth was Epiphanius, he begets seven children who, himself also leading the life of a monk and ordering his manner of life in accordance with his profession, departed to him whom he had loved. The two remaining children, before they had exchanged their immature age for a more mature one, exchanging this life, departed from human affairs. The third, lastly, is this Luke, divine in all things.

[6] Of whom Saint Luke was the third-born. While still of tender age, and reckoned among boys, he showed nothing boyish in his character. For boys take the greatest delight and pleasure in jests, laughter, games, and disorderly movements; but nothing of the sort was found in Luke -- a boy, grave in character rather quietness, tranquility of soul, gravity of character, and that in every respect he bore himself as one of more mature years than his age. Wherefore he never had any association with others in things pertaining to pleasure. And let no one think this account wavers in credibility, when he considers that fruit is the food most pleasing to boys; but this youth was so novel and unusual a lover of abstinence that from boyhood he abstains from delicate foods he thought he should bid farewell not only to meat but also to cheese, eggs, and every other food that offers pleasure, and should live on barley bread, water, herbs, and legumes. On Wednesdays and Fridays, however, he fasted from all food until sunset. What may seem worthy of even greater admiration is that he used no teacher or guide for these practices; but of his own accord and voluntarily pursuing all that would deny the throat its pleasures, he fasts on Wednesdays and Fridays he embraced from his heart labors, deprivation, and whatever afflicts the flesh. Since, therefore, things most sweet and supremely pleasing to others were unpleasant and unlovable to Luke, while conversely things to be avoided with effort and burdensome to many were very easy for him and free from all labor, it is plain that such things are considered so not so much by their own nature and character as by the will and habit of those who use them.

[7] Once, when he was dining with his parents, and they did not think these things were done from religious piety and sound judgment, but rather supposed the matter was a childish ambition arising from a certain levity of mind, they tested him with this experiment. Placing meat and fish cooked together in the same pot on the table, they ordered him to eat. Sensing fish cooked with meat, he vomits it up. He, completely ignorant of what had been done, accepted the fish when his father offered it. But when he had taken it and perceived the trick, he left nothing undone to show that he bore the matter with great distress; and as a sign of the bitterness of his soul, he vomited up the food he had taken, and fasts for three days and so for three days, as if some great crime had been voluntarily committed, wearing himself out with lamentations and groans, not enduring to take bread in any way during that time, he persevered. When therefore his parents had fully explored his soul's resolution and recognized that he had nothing of human calculation, but was full of divine grace, they allowed him thenceforth to live according to his own judgment.

[8] Moreover, although he devoted himself to so careful a life, he nevertheless performed his duties owed to his parents no less diligently, being prompt in his service with all excuse removed, and showing them the greatest possible honor. He obeys his parents. Now after the example of the divine Abel, Jacob, and Moses, he devoted himself to the care of the flock of sheep; he pastures sheep now he took up the labors of agriculture. For he had already attained the vigor of age; he cultivates the field wherefore he also strove very diligently to exercise his body with every labor and affliction.

[9] But who could adequately narrate, as they deserve, his abundant kindness of character, his generous care for others, and his mercy toward the poor? For as one wholly devoted to the service of his neighbor and taking no account of himself (at least as regards care of the body), whenever he happened to be sent on customary errands, he did not even spare the necessary food and provisions for the journey, giving his food to the poor, he fasts but extending them to the poor he met, he himself remained fasting. Likewise he very willingly and with great spirit shared his clothing. Indeed, giving to those who approached him naked, he stripped himself with a cheerful spirit, and it came about that he not infrequently returned home naked, taking no account of cold or shame or anything else. But though restrained on this account by reproaches and sharper reprimand from his own family, and sometimes even received with beatings and blows, giving away his clothes, he remains naked he could in no way be moved from this duty of mercy; rather he counted as honors and crowns of thanksgiving the blows he saw inflicted upon him for the sake of the poor. Not infrequently he was left naked for a considerable time, since his parents thought fit to do so, and endures the blows inflicted in order that he might thereby lay aside that blessed kindness and humanity. But he, not considering those punishments to be punishments but reckoning them as rewards of good things, devoted himself more earnestly and with greater vigor to mercy toward the needy. Out of love for God he endures it. Such indeed is a soul captivated by the bonds of divine love. It counts it as nothing to endure evils; indeed it considers distresses as delights, and grows strong in hardships and labors. When therefore it happens that he has borne no distresses for his Beloved, then he considers himself worse off, and as the heaviest torment, he flees from relaxation.

[10] Of his goodness and more lavish spirit toward the poor, this notable token presents itself. Going out to the countryside to sow seed, he deposited the greater or equal part in the bosom of the poor. On account of the alms given The reward that followed the deed was most pleasing. For it was fitting that the first Goodness should repay such returns: namely, by as much as had been taken away from the sowing by that beneficence toward the poor, by so much more did it abound in the most plentiful harvests and copious crops. He gathers greater crops.

[11] In a short time meanwhile his father departed to God. He, however, devoting himself more to the heavenly Father, thereafter neglecting the care of the flock and the cultivation of the fields, applied his zeal solely to prayer and the diligent meditation of the Sacred Scriptures. That this great man made much progress in the practice of prayer is made evident by other things, devoted to prayer and also by what occurred in his mother's case -- no small matter, and of such a kind as to have ample power to inspire wonder in the souls of its hearers. For she, desiring to see with her own eyes what her son was doing in the secret silence of the night, at deep evening, with other female companions, drew near. Then, finding a suitable hiding place so that she herself might see but could in no way be seen by anyone, she beheld that great and equally awesome sight to see and hear -- as the mother herself again confirmed by oath that she had seen, to those who would now be narrating these things. He was intent upon prayer and was standing before God with his whole mind's attention. But his feet did not touch the ground in the slightest, and he was as if lifted up toward God with his whole body. When the mother had perceived this with her eyes not once but a second and third time, she put an end to her doubting, in prayer he is lifted from the ground and no longer sought to make the experiment. There are also other witnesses of the miracle, not those who received it by hearing from others, but those who beheld him praying with their own eyes.

and in number 39, "he returns to the desired solitude of Johannitza." This mountain is situated not far from the Corinthian Gulf toward Boeotia and the Isthmus of Corinth.

p Saint Luke was born around the year of Christ 890.

CHAPTER II.

The Monastic Life Desired, Begun at Athens, and Left.

[12] When he had already for some time been turning over in his mind leaving the tumults of the world Seeking the monastic life and entering upon the institution of the monastic life and quiet, seizing an opportunity, he immediately departed for Thessaly. On the way, watchful soldiers captured him -- soldiers posted to catch runaway slaves from their masters and commit them to prison. For they, seeing nothing in his rather cultivated appearance that distinguished him from the vilest and most neglected persons, and supposing him to be someone's slave, immediately seized him and questioned him in the customary manner: He is captured by soldiers. "Whose was he, and from where, and where was he going?" When he answered and professed that he was a servant of Christ he is beaten and had undertaken the journey for no other reason than prayer, and added nothing further to this, they, supposing him to be concealing his servitude and openly mocking them, beat him severely and heavily. Not his tongue lying, he is imprisoned but the false suspicion of the soldiers caused him, though innocent, to suffer punishment. He nevertheless, truly a lover of truth and magnanimous, considered it the mark of a cowardly and utterly degenerate spirit to depart from the truth under the compulsion of beatings and to ascribe servitude to himself. Therefore, even after the beatings, the holy man is shut up in prison -- perhaps with the adversary thus avenging the losses he had suffered at Luke's instigation, and preventing him from attacking him henceforth with bold and brave spirit. However, having been recognized by certain people who knew him well, and discovered by sure testimony for who and what he was, he is freed he was released from prison. When he had returned safe and sound to his own people, he suffered from them reproaches, calumnies, and insults he is mocked by his own people far heavier than the blows. He, however, not unaware of whence came his stumbling blocks, and who was impeding his steps from his resolution in God, did not cease to knock at God's mercy, humbly praying that he would bring the purpose of his soul to its end. And indeed he did bring it to its end, who is always present as a helper to the good. This, moreover, is the way the matter was accomplished.

[13] Two monks returning from elder Rome lodged with his mother. With monks returning from Rome. When he had caught sight of them, the desire long accustomed in his soul immediately arose, and the fire of divine love settled firmly in his soul, as in suitable kindling. Having therefore entered into conversation, he asked to become their companion on the journey, and likewise to receive the monastic habit. They said indeed that they were going to Jerusalem, after many prayers but they refused to take him as a companion or to make him a monk by changing his habit, for this twofold reason: that he was a young man and not accustomed to a long journey, and that when his parents and relatives learned of it, they would inflict no light punishments on the monks. But when he said, given as a companion and persuaded them, that he was a pilgrim and would be claimed by no one, they secretly left the town with him and came to Athens, he is received in a monastery at Athens and entering there into the sacred temple of the Mother of God, and pouring forth prayers to God, they left him in the monastery where they had lodged, and commending him to its Superior, and promising that he would shortly be tonsured as a monk and inserted into the fair choir of the Brothers, they themselves pursued the journey they had originally intended. He is tonsured. But the Superior of the monastery, although he had questioned the divine Luke many times, was by no means able to induce him to declare openly whose he was and from what lineage he sprang; He puts on the Minor habit of Novices. so he tonsured him as a monk, and then clothed him in that monastic habit which is thus far reckoned as belonging to Novices, and which it is the custom to call the Minor Habit.

[14] But the mother (for neither must her affairs be wrapped in silence, since the loss of a son is an immense grief to a mother, especially when there are added to it the evils proper to widows), thinking the pilgrimage of her dearest pledge utterly unbearable, the mother bearing it with difficulty was beating herself with lamentations and struck by the dire weapon of sorrow, and could not restrain herself from making accusations against the Lord of all. Indeed, imitating in her emotions of soul the widow of Elisha, she said: "Alas, Lord, witness of my widowhood and desolation! You first afflicted me by causing the death of him whom you had joined to me in marriage, and condemned me to the losses of widowhood, which is in itself far more grievous than death for a woman. And lamenting. But now you have taken from my eyes the one whom I had as some consolation for so great an evil, and I have no place where I may see that one true light of my unhappy life; so that we too may most aptly cry out with the Prophet: 'And the light of my eyes, even that is not with me.'" 4 Kings 4:28 Psalm 38:11 "But what was the reason that the boy has gone far from us? Was I preventing him from being free for you and being constant in your service? Was I compelling him to think little of your worship in preference to his duties toward us? Was I teaching him to prefer earthly things to spiritual and passing things to abiding? Whence I, who had learned from my ancestors to be a mother not only of the flesh but also of the soul, and who had made my son a work of prayer, assigning to it the greater part -- moreover, that was my sole consolation, to see my dearest pledge, and that always, as far as it might be possible; or if not, at least for some little hour of time. The very hearing of his illustrious deeds from nearby was enough to generate joy in my soul and beseeching God and to rouse solicitude for him. Therefore, O Lord and King of all, do not despise the tears of my eyes, but place them in your sight, to speak in the words of the divine David, and deign to dissolve those deep shadows of my grief. Psalm 56:9 You will dissolve them by no other means than by restoring my dearest pledge again to a mother's eyes. For thus I will also summon all together at the finding of my son, and will confess your magnificence, and will praise you all the days of my sojourn in the flesh."

[15] Thus praying, she moved God, who is good by nature, to mercy. But what happened, and by what means did it come about that the mother, weighed down by dire grief, and the Superior of the monastery rebuked through a vision was unexpectedly seen rejoicing about her son? He who accomplishes all things by his will caused the Superior of the monastery, under whom Luke, Christ's rational sheep, was serving, to be addressed by the mother thus seen, and to be called out to: "Why have you done violence to me, a widow? Why have you added to the pain of my wounds? Why have you taken away without any compassion the sole consolation of my widowhood? Why have you snatched my son, the caretaker of my old age? Quickly restore him to me; restore my light, my only hope. For I will never cease to approach God, the Judge and King of all, and to accuse you, as one who has suffered injury from you." The Superior of the monastery, terrified by these dreams, at first indeed thought it an idle vision and a temptation of the Evil One. But when on the following night and another and more often he saw the woman approaching him and saying such things, and rebuking him about the same matters with anger, admonished by the latter he thought it worthwhile not to spurn it as a deceiving image, but to regard it as a divine dream. Wherefore, as soon as day broke, the youth was summoned and brought before him. Then that man, with a rather severe word and manner, said: "Ho, you, for whose sake and to what end did you wish to conceal your circumstances, although we have already questioned you about them not carelessly? How did you completely deny having parents and relatives? Or how did you presume to approach this holy habit and way of life, you who consist entirely of deceit and dissimulation, as is proven by the very testimony of events? For if you had disclosed things openly and freely from the beginning, they would not have become public even without your consent. Go therefore from us and from all the borders of Attica, and restore yourself to your parent,

by whom, being exceedingly troublesome, I have had a very difficult time this third night." As the Superior of the monastery spoke these words, Luke stood in grave fear, and with his eyes cast down to the ground, he said nothing himself, but by his tears and his whole bodily bearing he nearly cried out -- that he bore the discovered separation with difficulty, and did not wish to depart from the society of the Brothers. When therefore the Superior learned this, made gentler by Luke's great humility and modesty, and having tempered his anger, ordered to return to his mother he said: "But it cannot be that you do not return to your mother, for the present at least. That done, there is nothing to prevent you from choosing some place and establishing in it a monastic life, and thus providing for your soul. For, as it seems, her prayer has the very greatest power of prevailing upon God, and is very able to impede yours."

[16] Luke, hearing these things, made no objection at all, since he was very humble and modest, and according to Scripture, feared all things out of modesty. Job 9:28 Falling on his knees and seeking the support of prayers, although unwilling, he departs from the monastery he left the monastery and soon undertook the journey to his mother. When he was inside the house, he returns to his mother he found her sitting in ashes, with her face disfigured and darkened, her sad eyes fixed on the ground, and her whole countenance bearing signs of immense grief. As soon as she saw him, she rose, mingled with joy and amazement. But see the virtue of this woman, how it shone forth, so that you may gather it is fitting that such fruit should come from such a tree. Seeing her son, she did not rush into embraces, did not throw herself upon his limbs, did not give herself entirely to the spectacle; but putting these things in second place, before all else she immediately looked to God, and stretching her hands on high, she gave thanks to him, by whose doing she had received back the son she had lost, and held her beloved within her hands: "Blessed," she said, "be God, who has not removed my prayer and his mercy from me." And so Luke, returned to his mother by God's will, he serves her for four months ministered to her, and bestowed upon her whatever service a son owes to his parents. This lasted, however, only for four months; then, burning again with love of God and solitude, forgetting all else, he devoted himself entirely to him -- with his mother herself no longer opposing, or thinking the matter to be neglected, since she was not unaware that while parents are indeed to be preferred to all other things, God must be held in a place prior to all.

CHAPTER III.

The Solitary Life of Saint Luke on the Mountain of Johannitza: His Zeal for Prayer: His Hospitality.

[17] Taking therefore the good and propitious prayer of his mother as a guide for his journey, he seeks the aforementioned mountain he withdraws to the mountain of Johannitza which the local inhabitants called by the rustic name Johannitza, and surveying the part of it which faces the sea (where the natural brothers Cosmas and Damian, commonly called the Anargyroi, have a shrine), he himself there fixed the tent of his monastic exercise. What manner and how great the contests, labors, and battles he engaged in there against the belly and sleep -- or rather against the savage demons who attack us through them -- neither could anyone adequately express in speech, nor should unhesitating faith be given to those who speak, on account of the enormity of the thing. But if from certain small indications, as they say, the lion may be known from the claw, or a spring from a slight taste, the man's excellence is to be declared, there is nothing absurd in our adding these things too to the narration of his good deeds.

[18] For a certain disciple of his, breeding incredulity in his mind, thought thus: that the man only pretended to be assiduous in prayer and vigils, as attested by a disciple, a diligent observer but in fact spent the greater part of the night in sleep; especially since he did not apply his mind to studies, nor was he accustomed to the sermons of the divine Scriptures or of the Fathers, so as to be able to spend time in their books; and he thought that he was not far from extreme ignorance, and desired to make a test of the matter. When night had fallen and the Father had closed the doors of his cell, the disciple threw himself upon the ground, and resting his head against the doors, with ears pricked up (which they say is characteristic of those who are intensely attentive), he persevered in that posture until morning, and then finally returned to his own bed -- full of admiration indeed, and absolving himself from the incredulity of his former thoughts. What he learned while thus fixed at the doors is as follows, as he himself narrated after the Father's death, confirming his account under a solemn oath: "I learned," he said, "that he would fix his knees on the ground and strike his forehead against the earth. He prays through entire nights with genuflections At each genuflection he would chant that public prayer. Then, as if growing warm with fervor, he would make more frequent genuflections and persevere in them until, his bodily strength being exhausted (for the body was unable to serve with equal effort the ready eagerness of the spirit), he would fall on his back and remain motionless for a long time. But even so he was active and did not indulge in sloth. He did not give way to sleep, and stations, though impeded but had his hands upward and the eyes of both body and soul, and with his whole mind's effort he said that customary prayer: 'Lord, have mercy.' Then after that brief relaxation of the body, rising again, he would stand on his feet and devote himself to prayer until the first light of day."

[19] Let another proof of the man's hidden struggles and of his fervent love for monastic quiet be added. He visits a monastery. He once lodged with a certain man joined to him by a well-known friendship, who was himself also a studious man and placed over a community of religious men. When he had now spent a third day with him, the desire for his cell and solitude came upon him, asked by the Superior to stay longer and he asked leave to depart. But the Superior would not grant it, since the desire of possessing the man held him, and he could not bear to be parted from his presence. For the desires of those who love God are most vehement, and stronger than those which grow from the economy of nature. When, however, Luke would not acquiesce, and openly sought permission to return, the Superior -- because the occasion of a neighboring feast day also favored -- spoke rather severely (since the force of desire sharpened his spirit): "How long," he said, or on account of the approaching celebration of a feast "will you so stubbornly resist in this rustic way and prefer solitude to the ecclesiastical assembly? Especially when a celebration is at our doors, to be conducted with the solemn assembly of the whole people; by missing the sacred chants of which you will carry away the greatest loss?" To this, the man full of God, with that love-worthy and blessed simplicity of his (and it is worthwhile to use not only the sense but the very words of that beautiful tongue), as if beginning a defense, said: "Good Teacher, blessed Pastor, you command well. But the Canons and sacred readings (if indeed the mind must be applied to them), and finally the entire ecclesiastical office -- where do they lead? And what is their aim?" Hearing this, the Superior of the monastery hesitated in uncertainty, and nothing at all occurred to him to reply. But Luke, as if resolving the doubt, said plainly, with as much simplicity as before: "Good Teacher, blessed Pastor, he prefers solitude to ecclesiastical gatherings and assemblies the psalmody and readings, and every other liturgical gathering, lead those who are studious -- as you yourself teach -- to the fear of God and advance them in it. He, therefore, who has taken care to have this very fear in his heart,

do you think he stands in any need of those things you praised?" When the Superior heard this, greatly admiring the force of the response, he was no longer willing to detain him, but immediately permitted him to go to his cell.

[20] The great man cultivated a small garden, both to exercise his body by laboring in it and to refresh with abundance not only what was necessary for eating, for those who visited him, but also their sight. He cultivates a garden. For it bloomed beautifully with every kind of tree and was planted with vegetables of every kind. That he went about this work not for the sake of some profit or personal advantage, but to serve the use and care of his neighbors, is clearly proved by the fact that he was never seen selling any produce from it, merciful to all without discrimination but rather offered it with all readiness to those who came to him from every quarter. Sometimes indeed, carrying produce himself or loading it on a donkey, he would go to the neighboring fields, and then, secretly depositing the load in the middle, he would return. Thus he looked to the advantage of others through his labors; not inquiring too curiously into those upon whom he was conferring the benefit, but removing the binding and discrimination of Isaiah Isaiah 48:6, and extending a common humanity to all.

[21] Deer, leaping down from the mountains and frequently coming to that place, were devastating his garden labors and cultivation, partly by grazing on them and partly by trampling them with their hooves. The divine man tried now with stones, now with shouts, to drive them away. A deer troubling the garden. But since he kept driving them away and they kept returning, and meanwhile they did not in the least relax their appetite for his vegetables and produce, the vigorous man, as if inspired by the Divine Spirit, addressed in a subdued voice one of them in particular, who seemed to be preeminent over the others, as though it were endowed with reason: "For what reason," he said, "do you do me injury and devastate my labors, when I have never harmed you? We are servants of one Lord, we are the works of one God. I pass over saying that I alone was brought into the nature of things according to the image of God, and have authority over all things. He strikes it down with a rebuke. By his command, therefore, you shall not pass this place, but where you now stand still, you shall pay the fitting penalties for your injustice." The great man had spoken, and the deer, as if struck by a dart, immediately lay prostrate on the ground, motionless. Certain hunters, seeing the matter from afar, ran swiftly as if to some unhoped-for gain, and with joy dragged the prey toward slaughter. He protects the prostrate deer from the hunters. But the matter did not please his gentle eyes; rather, as soon as he saw, he began to feel compassion for the prostrate creature. Going out therefore into their midst, he gently approached them and deterred them from their purpose: "Brothers," he said, "you have nothing in common with this wretched deer. For neither labor nor running nor any other effort previously spent in hunting properly drives you to its slaughter. It is clear, therefore, that he who lies prostrate from weakness rather needs mercy and help." Saying these things, he moved the men, who marveled greatly at his gentleness and compassion; and then, employing them also as helpers, he raised up the deer and released it. They too departed, having become more the prey of his goodness than having captured any prey themselves.

[22] Nor is this worthy of being passed over in silence: that although he continually wore down his body with so many labors -- amid vigils, fasting the unremitting force of vigils and the scarcity of food (for he used only barley bread and water, and these very sparingly and strictly, sometimes also vegetables, and as is fitting, with legumes intervening, as was also declared above); and likewise endured cold and was burned by heat; and moreover was harassed by swarms of wild beasts -- and every harshness to say nothing of the rest, immense genuflections, whole nights of standing, the unfriendly solitude, which itself was not seldom accustomed to exasperate and make harsher the moods of the soul -- always cheerful although he suffered so many hardships, and there were so many things by which he might seem able to be exasperated, he was never seen with a sadder or more morose countenance; but far more cheerful than those who daily luxuriate in relaxation of the soul, feasting, and sumptuous tables. And so to those who visited him and lodged with him, he was no little cheerful and more agreeable in manner, he kindly receives guests and frequently received them as a joyful host with bodily as well as spiritual foods, and even with delicacies to the point of satiety -- although nothing else was at hand or to be hoped for, sparing nothing of food or provisions. For he reflected with a very secure and sound mind that since God produces hay on the mountains and grass for the service of men, since he prepares rain for the earth and gives food to beasts and to the young of ravens, how could it be that providence would be lacking to those who ceaselessly invoke him (to use the words of the divine David)? Psalm 147:6

[23] But since he had not yet obtained the consummating grace of the divine and great habit, and was conceiving the greatest desire for it, at last, through God's providence, and he receives two monks going to Rome whose goodness it is, he obtained this too. The matter went in this way. Two monks adorned with the white hairs of old age -- or rather, themselves adorning their white hairs with virtue -- were heading for elder Rome on a kind of embassy. When Luke had hospitably and humanely received the men, and afterward shared his counsel with them, he more earnestly requested to be made the possessor of his vow. And from them he receives the great monastic habit. They, knowing him to be a vessel worthy to receive it, delayed him not at all; but swiftly performing all the proper rites for him, they clothed him in the apostolic and blessed habit, and imposed upon him the symbols of the narrow and strait way -- namely, the one that leads to life -- or rather, they afterward showed him by the habit to be what he had already previously been in reality. The matter was therefore a cause of joy to all -- to God, to the Angels, to men -- and brought sorrow and fear to only one, the most hostile enemy of all. For he saw a new soldier of Christ, truly equipped for battle, clothed in the armor of the Divine Spirit, breathing something very vigorous and manly, and about to fight against him more fervently henceforth.

[24] But neither should the miracle which was wrought concerning those monks who consummated this sacred rite seem to deserve silence. About to receive them in hospitality on their return from Rome. They were returning, and apart from the bare necessities, there was nothing in the possession of the Blessed Luke that seemed worthy of his magnificent soul and will -- especially for such guests and for those who had been the authors of so great a good. What therefore did he do, who opens his bountiful right hand and fills every living thing with blessing? Psalm 145:19 They were sitting on the shore, when the sun was already sending forth its pure rays, two fish leaping from the sea and were gazing at the sea waves stirred by gentle breezes, when behold, a great fish, raised high into the air by the oar-stroke of its fins, was cast before their feet, most pleasantly flapping and leaping, as if inviting and summoning those present to its own preparation. He receives fish. They, giving thanks to God the Provider and Supplier of food, were fixed in admiration at his providence for them. As though what had been first provided were not sufficient, it seemed good to send another as well; and immediately another fish, yielding nothing to the first in size, itself also leaving its marine abode, leaped onto the land in an instant, both rousing the guests to further thanksgiving and itself hastening to its own preparation. Would any pious person, learned in the divine Scriptures, say that this has anything less of the miraculous than that wonderful supply of food to Elijah by the ministry of the raven? 3 Kings 17:6 Thus therefore it was made clear to the monks what manner of man this was, and thus having received benefit, they departed.

[25] He, moreover, as if enrolled in the first ranks by this seal of his armament, and now owing greater contests than before, he increases his pious exercises showed indeed greater labors and more intense caution against his enemies, adding fasts to fasts and heaping tears upon tears; abstaining even more from sleep and all bodily relaxation; and employing more prolonged and fervent prayer and more constant quiet of solitude. By these exercises, obtaining a copious gift of divine help and favor, and most abundantly endowed with the grace of healings, he is gifted with the grace of curing and prophecy he also shone wonderfully with the knowledge of past, future, and present things hidden from others. Finally, he predicted that Scythian lance many days before it came, which, pervading the entire continent, delivered nearly all of it to destruction --

not openly indeed, since the matter seemed glorious and he himself carefully shunned glory, but parabolically and under a riddle. And his blessed tongue is known to have spoken various things to various people on this subject; but as others say they heard from him, it would come to pass that Hellas would be struck and the Peloponnese infested by war. Moreover, the arrangement of the divine Luke's dwelling was not such as to store and put away superfluous things beyond necessary use (for how could it be, when he had no property besides his body?), but plainly so as to keep safe and hidden his labors, of which he wished God alone to be the witness. In a narrow trench, like a tomb, he sleeps a little. Having dug out a small and rather long trench in this dwelling, he would recline his body in it as in a kind of tomb, making this a continual and ever-present memorial of death for himself. Then, having briefly tasted a little sleep, he would leap up again, and pronounce that verse of David: "I arose early and cried out." Psalm 119:147-148 And again: "My eyes anticipated the morning watch, that I might meditate on your words."

[26] But how could anyone easily traverse the whole depth of his humanity? He feeds two snakes. Although our account has declared some small portion of it above. For he extended his beneficence not only to human beings but also to beasts and birds, not to mention even reptiles (for something of that sort also exists concerning him). For he kept two snakes enclosed in a vessel for a long time and fed them -- perhaps wishing to extend more simply the Lord's commandment, that we do good to those who do us evil, even to them; he provides food for sparrows although he never suffered any evil from them. Not seldom indeed was he seen providing food for the sparrows of the field, so much did he overflow with humanity, always showing mercy and lending.

[27] His reputation for holiness spreading everywhere (for virtue makes its possessor conspicuous, like a lamp the one who carries it, even though the fog of envy swirls thickly around), two brothers approached the Saint, driven by a certain necessity. These men, abundantly refreshed by his hospitality and conversation, so that their refreshment was both bodily and spiritual, to two brothers refreshed with hospitality then also made a very earnest request, but one most unwelcome to him, since he utterly shunned ostentation. Their request was as follows: "Father," they said, "our father, near the end of his life, buried in the ground whatever gold and money he had. The place is uncertain to us the money buried in the ground by their then-deceased father and marked by no sign. We ask therefore that it be made known to us by the light of divine grace in you. You see in what state our substance is, so that even bare necessities are scarcely available to us; but what is worse, though we are brothers, we do not cease to quarrel with one another, each accusing the other of theft." The illustrious man heard, and as if out of great humility, not even judging the matter worthy of an excuse, he immediately freed himself from them. Asked repeatedly. But they, not thinking even so that the matter should be neglected, and like good prophets of what was to happen to them, ventured a second attempt, and approached again. He, still repelling them, affirmed that he was a stranger and in no way worthy of such grace. But when they pressed more urgently and showed that they would by no means withdraw, at last, barely and belatedly, but even then wisely and as one who wished to appear not to know, composing himself, he said: "Since you yourselves know the place in which your father, dying, hid the gold -- marked by such and such signs, easily conspicuous -- he reveals it with sure signs why do you wish to cause trouble in vain?" Hearing these things, they were not incredulous; quickly going to the place designated by the signs and digging, they found it to be truly just as had been said, and the treasure was brought to light. Receiving it and dividing it among themselves, they proclaimed the miracle that had been done to the ears of nearly all.

CHAPTER IV.

The Deeds of Malefactors Detected. The Struggle of the Flesh Repressed through an Angel.

[28] Nor should the following seem vain for the accumulation of the wise man's works, which are useful and worthy of everlasting memory. Three women came to him from a certain town -- I suspect the old deceiver contriving the plot through his malice, and using and employing them as an old instrument against the righteous soul, Women sent by the devil under the pretext indeed of piety, but in reality with no other end than to deceive and ultimately destroy. Revealing hidden sins. Falling therefore at his feet, they said in a spirit of contrition: "Have mercy on us, have mercy, O man of God, and do not despise the groans of our breast and the weight of affliction by which we are held. For a fire kindled in our breast, a fire secretly consuming and burning, impels us to reveal our sins before you." When he refused and told them to leave, saying that this exceeded his capacity and he would in no way receive them, they in return, heaping groans upon groans and tears upon tears, said: "Do not despise us, do not repel us, do not turn away from the humbled. Remember that the Prophet has commanded to declare shameful deeds openly and to be justified, as we have heard; and God, who wills all to be saved, has truly moved us to this, so that you yourself may be the mediator of our salvation and righteousness." Isaiah 43:26 1 Timothy 2:4 When, however, with his refusal renewed, the women pressed with greater fervor, the holy man feared that by so long and great a resistance he would break their generous eagerness for their own good, asked repeatedly, he listens and barely acquiescing at last, he received the confession of their hidden sins. Then he allowed them to minister to one another and take food in common, and to return home as quickly as possible. Wherefore one hastened to draw water, another to the garden, and the third to the kitchen; and boiling and eating a few vegetables, then approaching the blessed man, and receiving pardon for the past and caution for the future, they departed.

[29] But he who shoots in darkness at the upright in heart Psalm 11:3, as soon as the women had departed, sent his arrows and struck the vigorous man, who was alone by himself, with thoughts, and stirred up against him the war of the flesh. He resists the temptations afterward inflicted. But he, not ignorant of the author of the assault, armed himself well and stood against him -- with those arms, I say, with which the divine Apostle Paul was accustomed to arm the soldier of Christ -- and fighting for three days with prayer and showers of tears, he extinguished the fire of concupiscence and came through entirely free from that kind of war. Ephesians 6:11 And this is how he came through free: he seemed in dreams to see an Angel in the form of a youth, an Angel drawing out the lust of the flesh holding a hook in his hand, and thrusting it through Luke's mouth into his bowels, and drawing out thence a certain fleshy member (which perhaps designated the lust of the flesh), and thus bidding him to be of good courage, he freed him.

[30] This narrative too is worthy of the ears of those who love God. The sister of the divine Luke whom we mentioned above, truly his full sister (for she showed the genuine kinship not only in blood but also in deeds and character) -- since it was her custom to visit her brother, to stay with him and minister to him -- was once found together with some others, cleaning the crop of cumin and pulling up its weed, lest it grow to an unjustly excessive size. Then the Great One said in the hearing of all: "A man is coming to us, carrying a great and heavy burden on his shoulders, and laboring much." Having spoken, he predicts the arrival of a criminal and shortly after leaving the group, he entered the mountain and set darkness as his hiding place. While they wondered and considered what the force of his words might be, and what sort of person this was who was pressed by a burden, and what burden he bore (for they thought he spoke of a bodily weight of matter),

behold, the man himself at last came into the sight of all, alone, unencumbered, carrying not the slightest burden -- yet calling the Saint by name and saying he needed his help. But the Saint's sister and companions told him to wait. "For he has gone away," she said, "as you see, and is not with us now; and if indeed you wish to see him, you must wait." When the man declared he would not leave before he was permitted to speak to the man, a seventh day passed before at last, as if from some mist, like another Moses from the innermost sanctuary of his quiet and solitude, he came forth. He sternly rebukes the newcomer. As soon as he saw the man, composing his eyes toward the ground, and with a grave voice far removed from his accustomed gentleness, he said: "What business have you with this inaccessible wilderness? Why have you left the cities and retreated to the mountains? Why, dismissing the Pastors and the princes of Pastors whom the Churches have, he admonishes him to go to the pastors of souls have you betaken yourself to rustic and illiterate men? How did you even presume to come into my presence, and did you not shudder at divine vengeance, who are guilty of such monstrous crimes?"

[31] At these words, seized with terror, pouring rivers of tears from his cheeks, and with his tongue faltering from fear, the Saint added: "How long will you be silent? Will you not openly proclaim your sin before all, and reveal the wicked murder, he exhorts him to a public confession of his crime so that by accusing yourself, you may somewhat re-propitiate and appease the Divine power, which by its nature hates evil?" At last he, barely forcing himself, with continuous and broken panting, said: "Why, O man of God, do you ask to learn from us what you, taught by the divine grace dwelling in you, have already learned before? For what I did in secret has not been hidden from you. But I obey your command and speak, and what was wickedly done I openly produce and accuse." Having said this, he openly confessed his sin, relating in detail how, where, and why he had killed his traveling companion. Then, falling at the Saint's feet, he begged him not to despise him or leave him thus wretchedly held in the snares of the enemy. He imposes some penance. He both took pity on him and immediately raised him up, and admonished and exhorted him, and fortified him with rules, as far as the man seemed able to bear. He commanded especially that he should go to the tomb of the slain man, pour out an abundance of tears there, and splendidly celebrate the funeral rites for the third, ninth, and fortieth days; that he should make no fewer than three thousand genuflections, if circumstances allowed; indeed rather, that he should bewail his sin for the entire remainder of his life and, keeping it inscribed on the tablets of his soul, always hold it attentively in mind. Having given him these instructions, he sent him home, after having instilled in his soul a perfect recognition of the good and a condemnation of sin, and the man promised that he would bring great penance.

[32] A certain other man, a helmsman by trade named Demetrius, joined to the Saint by familiarity and not infrequently visiting him, Demetrius the helmsman, joined by a singular friendship spending many days in his company (since he indeed derived no small benefit to his soul from it), was held by great love for him both on account of his conversations and on account of the very association and sweetness of his character, and pursued him with the fervor of sincere faith. But he did not know the intimate power of the gift of perception and prophecy which the holy man possessed; whence something of the following kind occurred -- human indeed, yet not devoid of all fault. He was once plying his ship in the waters near Luke's little dwelling and was occupied with catching fish. Being about to visit the Saint, he did not wish to come empty-handed, but to bring something from his catch, not so much for the sake of necessary use as to show his good will. This was his intention. But since he had labored long and hard with his sailors and caught nothing, it at last barely and belatedly occurred to him to cast his hook in the Saint's name. As soon as he did this, a fish of enormous mass and very large size, of two fish caught by him in the Saint's name as if urged and directed by someone, sought the bait at top speed, and pierced by the hook, was safely drawn out. The helmsman, seeing this and even more captivated by the miracle of it -- that the great man, although absent, was efficacious by his name alone and performed miracles beyond expectation -- made a second attempt, and casting his hook in like manner, caught a fish; with the same complete ease as before, except that it was of lesser size than the first. Here the father of envy contrived something not dissimilar against the man, even as in the case of Cain: he blinded the brightness of his faith and wretchedly corrupted the purity of his will, causing the one who had offered rightly not to divide rightly -- Genesis 4:7 but to keep the larger fish for himself and carry off the smaller one. He recognizes that he was given the worse fish as a gift. The Saint received it indeed and even seemed openly to accept it, pretending to be one who knew nothing. But lest the helmsman, thinking this was hidden from the Saint, should remain thus sick in soul and with a wounded conscience -- he who, in God's sight, did not distinguish well (for in offering to Luke, he thought himself entirely acting for the grace of God) -- Luke thus spoke in a calm and gentle voice: "Why do we voluntarily subject ourselves to sins he compares the gifts to those of Cain and Sapphira and provoke God to anger for no good reason at all? Like that Cain, and afterward Ananias and his wife -- the former preferring his own advantages and gains to God, the others stealing what had been consecrated to him. Genesis 4:7 Acts 5:2 Perhaps something like this has been done in the case of this fish and the one caught before it, so that greater account was taken of man's care than of God's." When the helmsman understood, in place of the censured judgment he brought forth a praiseworthy penance, and falling on his face, sought pardon, firmly promising that he would never commit such a thing. He, having peaceably obtained pardon, returned home.

[33] The Brother who was living with the Father (for the narrative is eager to attach to the miracle something else consequent upon it, which perhaps will itself not be unpleasing) -- the Brother, therefore, who was his companion, set before him a boiled fish, as something pleasing and to his taste. But since Luke had long known what foods gave the other greater pleasure, and that the Great One's only delicacies were care for his neighbor, he saves the fish set before him for his guests as if sending the fish himself and ordering certain familiar persons to come to him, he caused them to arrive. When he saw them, he said to the Brother: "That fish was sent by God for them (far be it from me to think it was for me), and so let it be set before them." When this was done, they gladly received the delicacy, and he himself held charity toward them especially in place of delights.

CHAPTER V.

The Flight of Saint Luke to the Peloponnese on Account of the Bulgarian Incursion: Service Rendered to a Stylite.

[34] So much for what the divine Luke did before the incursion of the nation -- indeed a small part of his deeds in the meantime. Our account now approaches those things which followed his flight and pilgrimage. For when he had already completed seven years in that solitude of Johannitza, After seven years in Johannitza he himself and all the rest were compelled to migrate. For Simeon, the prince of the Scythian nation (we are accustomed to call them Bulgarians), on account of the Bulgarian incursion under the leader Simeon having repudiated the treaty with the Romans, overran the entire continent, girded with our sins as if with a most powerful hand, seizing and plundering everything, and depriving some of life, others of liberty, and making them tributaries. Some were held shut in as if in a prison within the walls of the cities, while others, fleeing to Euboea and the Peloponnese, looked to their safety. He flees to a nearby island. Then, therefore, the peasants who dwelt around the man of God also crossed to the neighboring islands. Although a worse envy, seizing them, brought upon them an unexpected danger. For when they thought their affairs safe with the righteous man,

the Bulgarians, having secretly procured a ship, suddenly attacked them and destroyed almost all of them, with only a few escaping by swimming -- he escapes by swimming among whom was the Great One himself -- and in that manner evading their hands.

[35] Then, when a ship was procured for those who had thus returned, he heads for Corinth with his people he crossed to Corinth with his whole family and acquaintances, when he already had the appearance of a beard filling his cheeks and the bloom recreating his youth. Although he had so advanced in age, yet the love of learning still drove him to clear a path for himself to the reading of the sacred oracles. He learns disciplines, already in manhood. Wherefore, going to school, he devoted himself to the study of letters. But he was to derive only a small benefit from this. For seeing the boys behaving dishonorably, and though they grasped the lessons very well, they did not fit good dispositions to the receiving of them -- he desists on account of the vices of his fellow students a thing he could by no means endure, he withdrew rather quickly; and this very commendably and wisely, since he knew how easily youth is formed, how tender it is, how easily it is perverted and learns vice. And so he preferred to lack learning and disciplines rather than to become wickedly rich in vice and depravity.

[36] He therefore went out to small rural towns; and since near Patras in Achaea a certain monk was reported to be a Stylite, pursuing a more exalted kind of life, he goes to Patras he thought of going there and devoting himself to his service. While he was considering these things, an embassy was sent to him from the Stylite of Zemena, asking him to come to him and enter into companionship, and not to consider it burdensome to live under him and take up the care of a minister. He devotes himself to the service of a Stylite monk. He gladly accepted the embassy, since being subject to authority was far more acceptable to him than commanding, and he knew that this was sometimes more beneficial for a young man. Moreover, having a clear view of the excellence of sublime humility, he gladly approached and subjected himself to his service with all cheerfulness. Thenceforth there was no kind of service that he did not himself perform diligently; counting it the greatest loss or even disgrace if anyone should be more devoted to service than he. And so he did not cease carrying wood, taking care of the kitchen and the table, preparing nets, and going fishing. Not one year saw him doing these things, nor two, nor just three, but he persevered for a full decade -- for ten years emulating this beautiful humility of Christ, who came not to be served but rather to serve. Matthew 20:28 But even though he was so subject to the man, he was nevertheless borne toward him with such great benevolence and heartfelt love that it surpassed the force of a natural son's love for his parent.

The Saint was calling him by name and saying he needed his help. But the Saint's sister and companions told him to wait. "For he has gone away," she said, "as you see, and is not with us now; and if indeed you wish to see him, you must wait." When the man declared he would not leave before he was permitted to speak to the man, a seventh day passed before at last, as if emerging from some mist, like another Moses from the innermost sanctuary of his quiet and solitude, he came forth. He sternly rebukes the newcomer. As soon as he saw the man, composing his eyes toward the ground, and with a grave voice far removed from his accustomed gentleness, he said: "What business have you with this inaccessible wilderness? Why have you left the cities and retreated to the mountains? Why, dismissing the Pastors and the chief Pastors whom the Churches have, he admonishes him that he should go to the pastors of souls have you betaken yourself to rustic and illiterate men? How did you even presume to come into my presence, and did you not shudder at divine vengeance, you who are guilty of such monstrous crimes?"

[31] At these words, the man was seized with terror, pouring rivers of tears from his cheeks, and with his tongue faltering from fear. The Saint added: "How long will you be silent? Will you not openly proclaim your sin before all and reveal the wicked murder, he exhorts him to a public confession of his crime so that by accusing yourself you may somewhat re-propitiate and appease the Divine power, which by nature hates evil?" At last the man, barely forcing himself, with continuous and broken panting, said: "Why, O man of God, do you ask to learn from us what you, taught by the divine grace dwelling in you, have already learned before? For what I did in secret has not been hidden from you. But I obey your command and speak, and what was wickedly done I openly produce and accuse." Having said this, he openly confessed his sin, relating in detail how, where, and why he had killed his traveling companion. Then, falling at the Saint's feet, he begged him not to despise him or leave him thus wretchedly held in the snares of the enemy. He imposes some penance. He both took pity on him and immediately raised him up, and admonished and exhorted him, and fortified him with rules, as far as the man seemed able to bear. He commanded especially that he should go to the tomb of the slain man, pour out an abundance of tears there, and splendidly celebrate the funeral rites for the third, ninth, and fortieth days; that he should make no fewer than three thousand genuflections, if circumstances allowed; indeed rather, that he should bewail his sin for the entire remainder of his life, and keeping it inscribed on the tablets of his soul, always hold it attentively in mind. Having given him these instructions, he sent him home, after having instilled in his soul a perfect recognition of the good and a condemnation of sin, and the man promised that he would bring great penance.

[32] A certain other man, a helmsman by trade named Demetrius, joined to the Saint by familiarity and not infrequently visiting him, Demetrius the helmsman, joined by a singular friendship spending many days in his company (since he indeed derived no small benefit to his soul from it), was held by great love for him both on account of his conversations and on account of the very association and sweetness of his character, and pursued him with the fervor of sincere faith. But he did not know the intimate power of the gift of perception and prophecy which the holy man possessed; whence something of the following kind occurred -- human indeed, yet not devoid of all fault. He was once plying his ship in the waters near Luke's little dwelling and was occupied with catching fish. Being about to visit the Saint, he did not wish to come empty-handed, but to bring something from his catch, not so much for the sake of necessary use as to indicate his good will. This was his intention. But since he had labored long and hard with his sailors and caught nothing, it at last barely and belatedly occurred to him to cast his hook in the Saint's name. As soon as he did this, a fish of enormous mass and very great size, of two fish caught by him in his name as if urged and directed by someone, sought the bait at top speed, and pierced by the hook, was safely drawn out. The helmsman, seeing this and even more captivated by the miracle of it -- that the great man, although absent, was efficacious by his name alone and performed miracles beyond expectation -- made a second attempt, and casting his hook in like manner, caught a fish; with the same complete ease as before, except that it was of lesser size than the first. Here the father of envy contrived something not dissimilar against the man, even as in the case of Cain: he blinded the brightness of his faith and wretchedly corrupted the purity of his will, causing the one who had offered rightly not to divide rightly -- but to keep the larger fish for himself and carry off the smaller one. Genesis 4:7 The Saint received it indeed and even seemed openly to accept it, he recognizes that he was given the worse gift pretending to be one who knew nothing. But lest the helmsman, thinking this was hidden from the Saint, should remain thus sick in soul and with a wounded conscience -- he who, in God's sight, did not distinguish well (for in offering to Luke, he thought himself entirely acting for the grace of God) -- Luke thus spoke in a calm and gentle voice: "Why do we voluntarily subject ourselves to sins he compares the gifts to those of Cain and Sapphira and provoke God to anger for no good reason at all? Like that Cain, and afterward Ananias and his wife -- the former preferring his own advantages and gains to God, the others stealing what had been consecrated to him. Genesis 4:7 Acts 5:2 Perhaps something like this has been done in the case of this fish and the one caught before it, so that greater account was taken of man's care than of God's." When the helmsman understood, in place of the censured judgment he brought forth a praiseworthy penance, and falling on his face, sought pardon, firmly promising that he would never commit such a thing. He, having peaceably obtained pardon, returned home.

[34] So much for what the divine Luke did before the incursion of the nation -- indeed a small part of his deeds in the meantime. Our account now approaches those things which followed his flight and pilgrimage. For when he had already completed seven years in that solitude of Johannitza, After seven years of residence in Johannitza he himself and all the rest were compelled to migrate. For Simeon, the prince of the Scythian nation (we are accustomed to call them Bulgarians), on account of the Bulgarian incursion under the leader Simeon having repudiated the treaty with the Romans, overran the entire continent, girded with our sins as if with a most powerful hand, seizing and plundering everything, depriving some of life and others of liberty, and making them tributaries. Some were held shut in as if in a prison within the circuit of the cities, while others, fleeing to Euboea and the Peloponnese, looked to their safety. He flees to a nearby island. Then, therefore, the peasants who dwelt around the man of God also crossed to the neighboring islands. Although a worse envy, seizing them, brought upon them an unexpected danger. For when they thought their affairs safe with the righteous man,

[35] Then, when a ship was provided for those who had thus returned, he heads for Corinth with his people he crossed to Corinth with his whole family and acquaintances, when he already had the appearance of a beard filling his cheeks and the bloom recreating his youth. Although he had so advanced in age, yet the love of learning still drove him to pave a way for himself to the reading of the sacred oracles. He learns disciplines, already in manhood. Wherefore, going to school, he devoted himself to the study of letters. But he was to derive only a small benefit from this. For seeing the boys behaving dishonorably, and though they grasped the lessons very well, they did not fit good dispositions to the receiving of them -- he desists on account of the vices of his fellow students a thing he could by no means endure -- he withdrew rather quickly; and this very commendably and wisely, since he knew how easily youth is formed, how tender it is, how easily it is perverted and learns vice. And so he preferred to lack learning and disciplines rather than to become wickedly rich in vice and depravity.

[36] He therefore went out to small rural towns; and since near Patras in Achaea a certain monk was reported to be a Stylite, pursuing a more exalted kind of life, he goes to Patras he thought of going there and devoting himself to his service. While he was considering these things, an embassy was sent to him from the Stylite of Zemena, asking him to come to him and enter into companionship, and not to consider it burdensome to live under him and take up the care of a minister. He devotes himself to the service of a Stylite monk. He gladly accepted the embassy, since being subject to authority was far more acceptable to him than commanding, and he knew that this was sometimes more beneficial for a young man. Moreover, having a clear understanding of the excellence of sublime humility, he gladly approached and subjected himself to his service with all cheerfulness. Thenceforth there was no kind of service that he did not himself perform diligently; counting it the greatest loss or even disgrace if anyone should be more devoted to service than he. And so he did not cease carrying wood, taking care of the kitchen and the table, preparing nets and going fishing. Not one year saw him doing these things, nor two, nor just three, but he persevered for a full decade -- for ten years emulating this beautiful humility of Christ, who came not to be served but rather to serve. Matthew 20:28 But even though he was so subject to the man, he was nevertheless borne toward him with such great benevolence and heartfelt love that it surpassed the force of a natural son's love for his parent.

[37] And so, when someone once reviled the Stylite with an insolent tongue, he rebukes one hurling insults at the Stylite and received the man with abuse, Luke, because he was present, bore it so grievously, and his soul burned with such great zeal, that forgetting his silence, propriety, great modesty, and tranquility, he was compelled both to be carried away more heatedly and to hurl rather sharp words against that shameless man who was eager to revile -- rebuking the tongue, and chastising the insolent and abusive tongue that moved itself intemperately. But that man, very brazen and laboring under no light or easily curable disease, but needing a stronger chastisement, he is struck in the face was immediately shown. For unable to bear it, he struck the holy man on the cheeks with his profane hand. Psalm 76:7 But in a moment vengeance was at hand, and God made his judgment heard from heaven, and a hidden power was brought to light, a demon seizing the one who struck him and the man's wickedness was fittingly punished. For scarcely had he struck by way of injury when he himself was struck with a far graver punishment, namely demonic possession, and lay prostrate on the ground writhing and being torn apart, and wretchedly suffering what those who are possessed by a demon customarily suffer. The innocent one is shown to be such. Why indeed should I not say what is more terrible and to be bewailed with many tears, and able to strike fear in those who do not spare their more uncontrolled tongues? He persevered in this state to the end, delivered to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, as Paul says, so that the spirit might be saved. 1 Corinthians 5:5 Why so? Because indeed the one whom it most befitted to chastise others who behaved foolishly (since he was a Priest) and to remind them of their duty by word and life, was himself foolish instead, and was set as a ruin to others and a manifest disgrace to his Order.

[38] It was plainly foreign to and utterly abhorred by the enemy's envy to allow the admirable Luke to continue serving under the Stylite to the end, and not rather to move every stone to prevent him from this good commerce -- which is indeed the mark of malice and the utmost wickedness. He departs from the Stylite. He did not, therefore, cease to contrive everything until he accomplished his aim, and that good adversary separated the two from one another. What then was the occasion of their mutual separation and division? That the one to whom the care of the shores had been entrusted, when he had forbidden crossing by ship to the borders of Hellas on account of enemy incursions, finding Luke prepared to cross in a vessel, beat him with the most terrible blows. He therefore resolved to live thenceforth on his own; and thereafter, living under God and God's auspices and always clinging to his beloved solitude, he lives apart in the oratory of Saint Procopius the oratory of the divine Martyr Procopius sheltered him. But from there too, a more copious rain bursting in and overturning the little house where he was living, drove him away again, even unwillingly -- God perhaps ordering this usefully, lest by tarrying longer in the Peloponnese he should do an injury to his homeland, which he would deprive of such a plant and shoot.

CHAPTER VI.

The Return of Saint Luke to the Mountain of Johannitza: Gifts Not Accepted. The Eucharist Preserved.

[39] For without a longer delay the wretched Simeon, who had been the author of so much Christian blood poured out, departed from human affairs; After the death of the Bulgarian Simeon, with his son Peter loving peace and his son Peter assumed supreme power -- a son indeed, yet in no way appearing to be heir of his father's cruelty and savagery, as he was of his glory and substance, but plainly far removed from it. Indeed, as far as he himself was concerned, having nothing of his father's bloodthirstiness and kinship with it, he immediately bade farewell to bloodshed and wars and embraced peace with the Romans; when, to use the words of the Prophet, the sword and spear and all weapons forged of iron were beaten into pruning hooks and mattocks; Luke returns to the solitude of Johannitza when likewise, with everyone returning safely to their own cities and towns and their very hearths, the divine Luke also returned with longing to the solitude of Johannitza, which he had more intensely desired. He himself pursued the same, or even greater, labors of virtue; yet he strove to refresh the labors of others, especially those arising from travel, with hospitality full of humanity. Isaiah 2:4

[40] Wherefore also, when he heard that the Bishop of Corinth, ascending to

the royal city, had paused not far from there to rest from the labor of the journey and to repose a little, he went to visit him -- not indeed with empty hands but offering gifts; small indeed, yet from a great and generous will, since he especially offered what was available and the best he had stored up (namely, various kinds of vegetables, the produce of the little garden which he cultivated with his hands), both to the Bishop he refreshes the Bishop of Corinth with his small gifts on his journey and to the clerics accompanying him and the noble men. When the Bishop learned from them who this man was, where he lived, and what manner of life he followed, he did what a studious man, lovingly disposed toward divine things, would do. Thinking little of pomp and the measure of his dignity, he esteemed it of the greatest value to visit devoutly the hut of a poor man (although in spiritual terms he was not poor). Coming therefore, the gold offered by the Bishop, who came to his hut, he rejects and surveying all his things with his eyes, he held in admiration those things which were truly worthy of admiration: not riches and magnificent furnishings, but voluntary and freely assumed poverty. Wherefore he also cheerfully resolved in his mind to honor the man with gold. For so human nature is constituted that we give more cheerfully and readily not to those who are needy but to those who are too exalted to be needy. He therefore ordered a certain one of his household companions, the most distinguished among them, to distribute it. But Luke refused to accept it. "It was not, my Lord," he said, "because I was in need of gold that I came, but of prayers and teaching. For what is gold to me, who have chosen to live thus? Give me therefore what I need and what a keen thirst holds me for -- teaching me, rustic and unlearned as I am, by what means salvation should be obtained."

[41] The Archbishop was very saddened by the rejection of his gift, the Bishop bearing the refusal with difficulty regarding what had been done not as a rejection of what was given but rather as a slight to himself, as though Luke indeed needed the gold but had rejected the gift because the Archbishop's presents displeased him. And therefore, touched with very grave pain of heart, he said: "Why have you repulsed us in this manner together with the gift? For I too am faithful, though a sinner; I am also a Bishop, though unworthy. By what reasoning, then, since you wish to imitate Christ in all things, do you not admit his imitation in this? John 12:16 For he too accepted offerings made voluntarily by pious and willing people; and as witnesses of this you have the money-bags, which are beyond all objection. For even though you yourself have less need of the gift that is given, you will extend it to others who are in need. But now, as far as you are concerned, the precept of beneficence must be judged something foolish and irrational; and thus you render useless all generosity of soul, which joins the pursuits of humanity and mercy with religious piety. And, to say it in a word, you remove the thing by which both some consolation can be applied to the heavy burden of poverty, and the way of salvation lies open to many." The man of God, hearing these things, thought he should no longer reject the gift, he accepts a single coin lest he create for himself vainglory and for the Bishop an immoderate sorrow. He therefore accepted only a single coin, and in return repaid the riches of his prayers.

[42] Then he inquired of the Archbishop, with a very contrite and humble sentiment: "I beg you, Lord," he said, "by what means can we, who on account of our many sins inhabit mountains and solitudes -- by what means, I say, can we receive the awesome mysteries? For you see that not only a gathering, having become a suppliant to the Bishop but not even a Priest is available to us." The Bishop, considering the question very welcome, said: "Well, Father, you have asked about a good and most necessary matter. [He is taught that in the absence of a Priest, the body of Christ may be received without the touch of hands.] For even a good thing, as they say, is not good if it does not happen well. First and chiefly, therefore, a Priest should be present. But if he is absent for an absolutely necessary reason, the vessel of the presanctified gifts is to be placed on the holy table, or altar, if it is an oratory; but if it is a cell, on a very clean bench. Then, having spread out a small linen cloth, you will place the sacred particles on it; and having lit incense, you will chant the psalms of the Typica, or the Trisagion hymn together with the Creed; and adoring with a triple genuflection, you will draw your hands together, and with your mouth you will receive the precious body of Christ our God, saying 'Amen.' In place of the sacred liquid, you will drink a cup of wine. But the chalice devoted to this service you will not take for any other common use. Then you will gather the remaining particles in their vessel in a linen cloth, applying all diligence lest a pearl -- that is, a particle of the Lord's body -- slip away and be trampled upon." The Great One heard, and gave thanks for the instruction. And the Archbishop resumed his intended journey, while the Saint returned to his prayers and the quiet of his solitude.

[43] It was the custom of this great man, on the solemn day of Palms, at the very first light, to ascend to the summit of the mountain, holding in his hands the divine armor of the Cross, in the pious procession of Palm Day and crying out, "Lord, have mercy." On a certain day, then, as he was ascending, the one who always envies the good envied him, and wishing to impede by some means the purpose of his religious mind, he hung a viper that had come out of its hole upon one of the toes of his foot. Such was the action of that wicked one, using the reptile as an instrument. But what kind of things did that good man do with the resolution of a good soul? Bitten by a viper. Things congruent with a good and religious man, of course. For immediately the Great One, bending down and grasping both his foot and the creature, said: "Neither shall you harm me, nor I you. Let each of us go his own way, since we are both creatures of one Creator, without whose prohibition and unwillingness we can do nothing." Having said these things, the viper immediately withdrew from his foot and set off on its way toward its hole; he remains unharmed and the admirable man, having suffered absolutely no harm from the bite, remained unscathed.

[3] one might say: Bless, O Lord.

CHAPTER VII.

A Theft Detected by Saint Luke. A Dying Man Healed. The Arrival of Guests Foreknown.

[44] A certain Count of the imperial treasury is sent to the regions of Africa by the Ruler of the Roman Empire's scepters. When he had already arrived at Corinth, someone steals the sum of gold which he was carrying, assigned to the royal services. Since the theft had been committed in the dead of night, On account of royal monies stolen by theft and the wicked plot remained hidden, as is plainly usual in such cases, crossroads are searched, streets are searched, and all suspects are called to questioning. At length, however, when all attempts had been made in vain and no hope of recovering the money seemed to remain, heavy grief oppressed the man; and he lay prostrate on his face, fainting in spirit from sorrow. Thereupon, as many leading men and nobles as were in the city gathered together and strove to console him, beguiling his grief, as it were, with words, and nevertheless bringing to mind God, who not rarely knows how to find an easy way out in desperate circumstances. And thus they labored to restore the spirits of one whose soul was, as it were, breathing its last and wretchedly dissolving from excessive sadness. Then someone, perhaps by divine impulse and

prompting, rising in their midst, said: "By no one else can this matter be uncovered than by Luke the monk, who both adorns this province of ours with many signs, and through whom God accomplishes many wondrous things." All who were present, a consultation having been held confirming his words with their own assent, profess that the matter in truth rests upon reality, and together they celebrate the many auspicious deeds of the holy man, worthy of praise.

[45] From this, good hope first warms the man, and he begins, as it were, to be revived, and gradually to resume the spirit of life. He therefore sends those who might serve as envoys to Blessed Luke and ask him to come. summoned by the Count of the Treasury "Imitate him," he said, "who did not refuse to descend from heaven to earth for the sake of human salvation; and permit yourself to the city for a brief hour, to visit those whom great distress holds." When therefore those who had been sent arrived, and having explained the reason for the journey, besought the Saint with great fervor and urgency not to refuse assent to their petition, he would indeed have preferred not to comply -- not hindered by any sluggishness or the inconvenience of the journey (for when had these been deemed worthy of his consideration and concern, whenever even a small measure of benefit was to be brought by the labor undertaken?), but repelling from himself the occasion of vainglory. For he knew that the one who had committed the theft would not escape his notice, and would more easily be caught by his interior eyes than that man had seized the gold. For this reason, therefore, he would willingly have declined, He comes to Corinth lest he approach the one who called him. Yet yielding to the prayers offered, or, to speak more truly, to the heavenly will, he joins himself as a companion to the envoys. When they had entered the house, that royal Quaestor, coming to meet him and showing as much honor as was fitting, and amply excusing himself for not having rather gone to him himself, and casting the blame for this upon the excess of his grief, sets forth his calamity to him and openly declares the theft of the monies that had occurred.

[46] The man of God, as though soothing in advance the sorrowful spirit of that man, and already casting the seeds and beginnings of joy, said: "But in the meantime, let us pay the belly its due; let us be glad and refresh one another: for he who has given us the wine of compunction to drink is powerful enough also to mix kindly the cup of gladness." having feasted with the others Psalm 59:5 The royal officer gladly receives the speech; and indeed he himself commands his servants, and they straightway prepare a table for him -- to use that saying of the divine David -- against the one who afflicted him. For when they had feasted quite abundantly, and were prepared to delight more in the remembrance of God than in food, that Great One suddenly opening his eyes and fixing them upon a certain one of the bystanders, and calling him by name, summoned him to himself. Then when the man had come near, looking at him, he said: "Why, by recklessly laying hands on the royal monies, have you all but created death for yourself and danger for your lord?" Psalm 22:1 he identifies the thief as one of the bystanders "Now then, go quickly and bring to us the gold which you buried in the earth -- if indeed you desire to obtain both mercy and pardon." That man heard, and as though bound in a fetter of the tongue and utterly unable to contradict -- since his conscience was both witness and conviction -- he hastened to correct the deed of darkness with the light of repentance. And immediately falling prostrate, he touched the holy feet, to the one restoring the money, he pardons the crime as though he would cleanse by that touch the hands contaminated by theft. He confessed what had been wickedly done and fervently begged for pardon; and having obtained it (for such was the man's disposition that he not only revealed the wound but also applied the remedy as quickly as possible), he departed at once and brought back the entire sum of gold safe before the eyes of all. See therefore how many and how great things concurred in that one and the same miracle. He who had been dejected and failing in spirit was revived, having recovered what, when lost, had caused his grief. He who labored under an obscure and unknown disease was led to a cure. The deed of darkness was convicted, which, being detected, cuts off the approach of sin. The author of all the evil was confounded; and Christ was praised through his servant, to be sure. and praises God The divine Luke therefore returns, claiming nothing of human praises for himself; but with the interior lips of his soul saying to God: "With you is my praise." Psalm 21:26

[47] When the Great One was once visiting a religious man, Antonius, the Superior of a monastery situated at the walls of the city of Thebes, He visits a monastery near Thebes (for this man of God was accustomed to visit men distinguished by outstanding virtues), it happened that the son of a certain man -- not of the common multitude but of the leading citizens -- fell into a disease. Moreover, that disease was so grave that he was not far from death and left no hope of returning health. All his friends, relatives, and household members therefore sat beside the man, grievously afflicted by the wound of sorrow, by a citizen because death was also expected to come soon; to his dying son one of those standing by made some mention of the Saint and introduced some conversation about him, and said that if he were summoned to visit the sick man, we would not long prolong our groaning, but speedily we would equally be freed from the burden of tears, and this man lying ill would be freed from his disease. to be healed Upon hearing this, the father of the bedridden man delays not at all, but more swiftly than words can tell, hastening to the monastery in which the Great One was then staying, throws himself at his feet, with pitiable wailing drawing frequent sighs and bedewing the ground with tears. What indeed would he omit doing or saying, if any means were suited to bending his heart to compassion? But since he himself could not sufficiently induce the Saint's mind, invited with many prayers he also beckoned to Antonius to come as an aid to the suppliant. And though that one likewise supplicated with fervor of spirit and grievously bewailed the disease and affliction, yet the supremely merciful man, persisting with a resolute heart, was in no way moved by his words to grant what was asked. "Who am I?" he would say, "or what greatness is in me, that you are deceived by such an opinion of me? There is one and only one physician of souls and bodies, who is also able to deliver from death, out of humility he refuses to come namely God who fashioned us. But a corruptible man, and one moreover liable to sins, can do absolutely nothing of this sort." When the father of the sick man heard these things, he immediately returned with a dejected heart, dissolved in tears, despairing of his son's recovery.

[48] But in the evening, Antonius, conversing privately with the Saint and exchanging words, said: "I do not think, reverend Father, that it was well done, persuaded by the Superior of the monastery nor in accordance with the divine laws, that we did not visit the sick man, and this after being entreated with so many

[4] tears. It remains therefore that we too should hear, and rightly so: 'I was sick and you did not visit me.' For surely," he said, "we are not thrusting ourselves forward ostentatiously and ambitiously? Into how great a sadness must one fall, with how many conflicting thoughts must one be harassed? So that plainly, in my judgment, they consider us utterly devoid of humanity and hard of heart to no purpose." To this the divine Luke replied: "Both to heal the sick belongs to God alone and is proper to those who have been deemed worthy of his grace; and likewise to console those sorrowful in spirit pertains to those who are sufficiently endowed with power of speech and prudence. But I, who am not only far from the former, but who also lack much of the latter -- how shall I profit those who seek by going to them? If, however, this seems good to you and acceptable to God, do you yourself first act as guide of the way, and I will follow without delay; and when you enter the house, I will enter as your companion." Immediately therefore they rise and set out on the journey. with him he goes to the city When indeed they had arrived at the city and entered the house, it being already deep evening, they find the sick man deprived of all use of speech, he visits the dying man and indeed already without sensation; his vital faculties having failed in him, so that only by his appearance was he believed not yet to be dead. Those who were present silently and softly shed tears. Only the father of the sick man, the Saint having sat down in a certain place near the bed, kept saying: "Pray, venerable Father, for your servant and our son; make with him a sign for good. Psalm 85:17 Let me see him as I, wretched father, most ardently desire, and as your prayers to God are able to effect." But when he declined and excused himself as having nothing in common with such miracles, the father again supplicated, fell prostrate, and adjured him, having the monk Antonius as an assistant, as it were, to his petition, and one adding spurs to prayer. Scarcely therefore, pressed hard, did he arise, and raising his eyes on high, in the hearing of all, he pours forth prayers he poured forth a prayer. Then when the prayer was finished, they departed; and both together sought the monastery. But in the morning the Great One, rising, immediately withdrew to the mountain, he flees to the mountain fleeing with all the swiftness of his feet the glory of men: for he knew what was about to happen. The good Antonius therefore, wishing to know whether the Saint's prayer had brought any benefit to the sick man, sends someone to inquire of those in the house. But the one who had been sent returns saying things which are both fearful to recount and which to accomplish is very much the object of envy and malice: the dying man suddenly healed that the boy, shortly before all but numbered among the dead, and of whom it was doubtful whether he was alive, was now going forth from the house, seated on a horse, and proceeding sound and well to the bath.

[49] On a certain occasion the Great One was chanting matins and canticles together with the Brothers who were with him, and had already completed his task to the end; when he addressed the monk in charge of the table in these words: "But you, my son, see to it that you prepare some small portion of food for these Brothers he orders food to be prepared for guests, predicting their arrival who are about to come to us, so that their toil may be somewhat relieved." The man went and, building up the fire, was doubting within himself what the holy man's words meant. "For where," he said, "is the one who first announced them, or whence has he come?" Turning these things over in his uncertain mind, he goes in to the Saint; and then said to him: "For whose sake, then, was I ordered to set the table, when no one is present for whom we are preparing a meal? For who is this person, and who first announced him?" So he, thinking perhaps according to human fashion about one who was superior to merely human reckoning. Yet the man of God, as though feigning ignorance, said: "But forgive me, my son; for it seems that, deceived by demons, we have spoken thus, and therefore no preparation need be made." Upon hearing this, the monk was negligent. But now as the day was dawning, after a short time those arrived who were to visit the Great One, and whose coming he had predicted. When the monk saw them, he condemned his own incredulity and marveled at the Father's perspicacity. Yet not even so did he abstain from risk, by which he might also learn about things he had doubted. Approaching therefore those who had come, he learns from them who they were, and hears whence, how, and for what reason they had come; and that they had never before seen the Saint, nor had they announced their arrival beforehand. But when the food was placed upon the table, what the serving monk had done secretly he uncovers the theft of a gluttonous monk could by no means escape the notice of the Great One, who, having secretly retained some portion of the food, had set it aside for himself to eat. And so he immediately sends for him to come; and he himself, seizing the pot, pours the whole thing into the dish. Those guests therefore, refreshed with food, depart. But the monk, returning and wishing to take food for himself, not finding what he had hidden, was greatly pained and enraged in spirit, and railed disgracefully against the Father, as though injured by him, saying: "What then, am I not worthy to be cared for just as the guests are? and rebukes him And if you yourself have no need of food, why do you deprive us who do need it?" To whom the Saint said in a gentle and mild voice: "It would have been fitting, my son, to give praise and to eat food, as yesterday and the day before. For God prepared that food not for us but for those who came here. It is plainly not impossible for him, if it be profitable, to nourish even us with delicious provisions." Upon hearing this, repentance overcame the monk for the things he had said; and so, bending his knee, he immediately seeks pardon and receives it.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Dwelling of Saint Luke at Calabium, and on the Island of Ampelus. Shipwrecked Men Received.

[50] Since, however, in that place he endured many annoyances from those who came in greater numbers daily, disturbing his welcome quiet and the tranquillity of his solitude, he wished indeed to depart thence and migrate to more solitary places. Concerning the change of location Yet he did not show himself more compliant with those thoughts, since he knew how to resist his own will and never to consent to it rashly. He therefore deemed it worthwhile to send the monk who served him, Germanus by name, to Corinth, to a man celebrated for the praise of virtue -- I mean that wise Theophylactus -- who, he consults Theophylactus though a teacher of secular wisdom, nonetheless by the example of his own virtues transmitted virtue to lovers of the good. Sending therefore to him, he sought to be taught what course he should take: whether he should remain here and in this manner endure the annoyances of the many, or prefer places inaccessible to many and frequented by few. But he replied that the counsel of Arsenius, which was the best, should be held. "For he said: Flee men, and be saved. And again: Flee, be silent, be at rest."

[51] When the admirable Luke had heard these things, he departs from the regions of Johannitza and passes to a place called in the local tongue Calabium: he migrates to Calabium a place which he not only found suitable for quiet but also, by the mildness of its climate, fit for human use, and which he most gladly inhabited; and dwelling in it, he rejoiced in spirit. In that place they say such a thing happened, by no means worthy to be consigned to the darkness of oblivion. When a vessel had once put in at the port of Calabium, sailors who had disembarked and came to draw water arrived at the hut of this Great One. Since it happened that he was absent, he pursues a stolen millstone they carried off the mill with which he ground necessities prepared by his hands, and departed. When he had returned shortly afterward and learned of the matter, he immediately pursues those departing. When he had also overtaken them, he demands back what had been taken. But when they firmly asserted that no such thing had been done by them, the Great One said: "Even if you are conscious of nothing, go on your way in safety. But God will punish the one who stole, as shall seem good to him." So he had spoken, and with the brief word uttered, divine vengeance, although it is generally accustomed to delay, he admonishes demands punishment more swiftly; and the one who had stolen the mill, falling to the ground, lay dead -- punished with a severe retribution

[5] by death, so that hands prone to evil might be restrained, he mourns the sudden death and those who rashly and audaciously spurn modesty might know that "there is fruit for the just, and that there is a God who judges them on earth." But the divine Luke was seized by immense sadness, and for a cycle of many days, sorrowful in spirit, he bewailed that bitter and unrepentant death. Psalm 57:12

[52] They say the blessed man spent three years there. Then, when the Turkish nation was making incursions into Attica, he withdrew to a neighboring island of no great extent, called Ampelus, together with those who dwelt around the surrounding area. On account of the Turkish depredation he withdraws to the island of Ampelus Moreover, that island is extremely barren and destitute of water. It therefore becomes for this man of stout heart a gymnasium of virtue and an occasion for good fruits. For daily going out and conveying water, he distributed it to the crowds, and not only water but also from wine and provisions, whenever they were available, he shared with them; and sometimes he freely provided fish caught by his fishing. When, however, the people wished to cross over to the Peloponnese, since they never hoped to see Attica liberated from the Gentiles, he dissuades the crossing to the Peloponnese he forbade it. "The cloud of the spring season, brothers," he said, "will be brief and will dissipate, and serenity will dawn upon us more brightly. But even if the western regions are not permitted to enjoy deep peace, the same thing will nevertheless happen to us as to the Israelites. For God, who knows all things, when he perceived their will prone to evil and their hard-to-cure -- not to say utterly incurable -- stubbornness, did not permit the son of Nave to utterly destroy the nations neighboring Zion: so that the Israelites, when sinning, would have at their doors those who would exact punishment. Not as though another manner of punishing were less available to God, but so that, always beholding the scourge hanging over them, they might live more cautiously."

[53] And so the man of God, living for about three more years in this corner of the island, was not rarely destitute not only of food but also of the water necessary for drinking. he wastes away from thirst For whenever, with fierce winds blowing, the roughened sea was rendered impassable for boats, denying the man a crossing and the means to draw water, he would waste away from thirst there for a long time. But the enemy also devised against him another plague: assailed by a savage itch namely, he inflicted upon his genital members so grave and terrible an itch that it was not far from driving him to self-mutilation. What remedy, then, did he apply to cure so great a disease? Assuredly, continual prayers to God and to the Saint whose body was interred there. taught a remedy by the Patron Saint of the island That Saint, appearing to him in his sleep, showed him an herb and thus addressed him: "Through this you will find a cure for the disease that afflicts you. But know clearly that you will be deprived of the reward of patience that is owed on account of that struggle." Then he, awakened from sleep, showed himself no bad judge in choosing what was expedient for him: nor indeed did he prefer a brief remission of what was painful to the eternal recompense; he disregards it on account of the eternal reward rather, he chose to suffer thus until he who is the Lord of knowledge, and who assigns the consummation of action to his destined will alone, cured that plague in whatever manner he himself knew; and then he stored up the rewards of the perfect athlete for the future.

[54] The sister of Blessed Luke, of whom mention was made above, no. 5 offered bread to her brother, who was living wretchedly in the aforementioned corner of the island and laboring there. bread offered by his sister He, accepting them, showed that the little gift of her willing devotion was pleasing to him. "Yet none of these," he said, "shall I myself eat, because God has prepared them not for my needs but for the necessary uses of others. foreseeing a tempest And as you watch, you will see this, and you will marvel at the necessity and the timeliness of their use." As he said this, she was doubting within herself and was waiting to see those who would come. Not long afterward, terrible sadness and anguish seized him, and he seemed to be suffering with certain persons who were in danger and caught up in an equal storm of evils, and he fervently supplicated God on their behalf. And then it was also plainly visible that he was lending his ears, as though some noise were reaching him from somewhere. to be rescued by his prayers But at last, at the end, as though the matter now had a good outcome, he appeared full of confidence and joy, and offered thanksgivings to God. The cause of these things was as follows. A ship had set sail from Italy and was now in the middle of the night being terribly tossed by a storm, which at last, the danger having been overcome through the man's prayers, barely puts in at the port of his island. Since it was not unknown to the sailors who it was that dwelt there, they immediately descended from the ship and went to the Saint, intending to discuss with him what had happened and to narrate their unhoped-for deliverance -- not knowing that they were speaking to one who had both long before known of their plight and had alone been the author to that island of their safe escape from that peril. Furthermore, the man of God, who was both rich in the abundance of love and truly most clement and supremely merciful, then set before the guests the bread of his sister, and did everything in his power to warm and restore them; he sets before them the bread he had reserved consoling and lightening their toil equally by deed and by word. And he was so disposed in spirit that, if circumstances required, he would have opened his very bowels and, with a more generous will, received the men within them. Such a thing it is to give cheerfully and to be endowed with the heart of Abraham for receiving guests -- nothing gloomy or morose, very hospitable nothing niggardly in what one offers, being disposed in mind to give with far greater alacrity than they to receive, overcoming the shame of the needy by an ambitious will to bestow.

CHAPTER IX.

The Final Dwelling at Soterium Chosen: A Demon Put to Flight: A Disease Healed: Favorable Things Foretold.

[55] But it is time for us now to speak of his migration thence; and how, having left this island, he passed to the place which both saw him die and now possesses his relics. Those who had been his companions in flight and had received from him many acts of kindness on that island, being well aware of how proven the man's virtue was and wishing to attach him to their neighborhood, approached him. Since, however, whether by not speaking or by neglecting to provide those things in which his accustomed spirit was wont to delight, and in any case bearing the changes of place from place with great difficulty, Invited by companions in flight it seemed he could be swayed?

[6] They bring him to the place, for the time being merely to be a spectator of it, and if it did not please him, to return again to the secret retreats of his former place. Then, standing around the man, they said: "How long will you dwell in coastal places, destined to have many and very troublesome disturbances from ships and from passersby? You see what kind of place this is in which you stand, what mildness of climate, how delightful and free from all disturbance, and almost inaccessible to men? There is also an abundance of the clearest water, which suffices abundantly both for quenching thirst and for irrigating herbs and plants. You will find nothing less sufficient or less worthy of your desire, and you will have us ready and eager for every service of ministry." he migrates to the new place Luke therefore gladly both accepted their goodwill and loved the situation of the place as if shown by God, and resolved thenceforth to dwell in it. Furthermore, stripping away the forest that shaded the water, he made it flow at once more limpid and with a more copious stream. And adorning and cleaning the place hour by hour and planting it with every kind of tree, he presented it as a most beautiful garden, pleasing not only to the taste but also delightful to the sight. he adorns it But his cell he erected not near the garden and spring, but rather far off and among thickets, lest it be easily known to the common people. For he had deeply fixed in his mind to cut off always the occasions of vainglory, he builds a cell and to be dead rather than alive to those with whom he associated, both in reality and in their estimation.

[56] While he was living thus and was of such a disposition of mind, that malignant one, unable to bear it, a demon terrifying him with apparitions strove to delude the strenuous fighter not only by thoughts he sent and by the temptations of wicked men, but also by visible specters and phantasms -- such indeed as he is, assuming every guise and being altogether multiform and various. Sometimes, standing at his door in the figure of a black dwarf, a form in which he gladly appears and which he also altogether is, he would say: "You have scorched me, you lay monk; but wait a little, and you will learn who knows how to scorch more vehemently." But the Saint, opposing the divine figure of the Cross against him he puts him to flight with the sign of the Cross and adding these words: "May the Lord destroy you," he would immediately depart and vanish. Then straightway the monk Gregory came, who also dwelt at a certain place there as a familiar of the Saint; and Luke said to him: "Did the conidarius meet you?" -- for by this name the Great One was accustomed to mock the malignant one. But when Gregory was puzzled and asked who this was, he replied: "An Ethiopian companion, standing beside me and threatening to burn us, has departed in flight." And when Gregory understood what was said, he replied: "But as for us, Father, may the Lord deliver us from his darts, your prayers accomplishing this for us. For as far as you are concerned, who are protected by God, he is idle and impotent."

[57] This monk Gregory, spending the holy days of fasting with him, did not cease approaching the man and asking him to pray to God for his habitual infirmity, Gregory the monk, importunately demanding to be healed and to beg that he be freed from his pressing sickness. For he was of a sickly body and labored with a weak stomach. But when the Saint delayed, as was his custom in all such matters, and affirmed that what was asked was greater than his virtue could accomplish, Gregory, grieving but also confident (for he knew that Luke possessed abiding favor with God, but waited to be asked), thought he should press on until the other could repulse him no longer. Then the admirable man said: "Humble Gregory, last night the demons mocked me concerning you, and I do not know what to say." he frightens him with a vision shown to him But Gregory, not rashly deceived by the words but believing it to be a divine vision, then asked him to declare what had been seen. "I seemed," he said, "to behold a certain terrible man who was standing nearby, splendidly adorned with golden and sumptuous garments. And you," he said, "were standing on the other side with your eyes intently fixed upon us. 'Why,' I say to him, pointing to you, 'does this one trouble me? Have pity on him, or rather on me, and free him from this infirmity.' But he replied: 'Let him be. For he wishes to become a monk.' And when I said: 'But he has already become one, as you see,' pointing with my finger to his habit, and teaches that diseases contribute to perfection he specified the degree of monastic perfection, not simply the habit: for the true character of a monk is shown not from garments but rather from deeds and from progress in virtue." And these things indeed were spoken by the one who appeared to the Saint. "If therefore to be crucified and dead to the world is a sincere indication of the perfection of virtue, then it is doubtless also clear that diseases tend in that direction and are a chief exercise of virtue. Wherefore, if anyone wishes to be a true monk, even bodily sickness greatly contributes; this is what was meant by the words: 'Let him be, for he wishes to become a monk.'" Gregory therefore adds nothing further, at last, appearing in a dream, he heals him but merely chants to himself the thirty-first psalm. Yet the man of God did not despise him to the end, but appearing in his sleep in the guise of a physician and seeming to apply a cautery to his stomach, he said: "Go, humble Gregory, with a body now healthy, for you will no longer suffer pain in your stomach from food." The event proved the truth of this, as Gregory himself, still living, is an ample witness.

[58] Pothus, whom all know, who also held the prefecture of Attica entrusted to him by praetorian right: Pothus, Praetor of Attica this man, dwelling at Thebes, himself also experienced the benefit of the Great One through the agency of his wife. For since no small tempest was raging at Byzantium, namely an attempt at tyranny against the most clement Constantinus, who then held the scepters of the Roman Empire, all who labored under even the slightest suspicion were being summoned thither by imperial letters. And so the Prefect Pothus too is recalled by letters from his wife, anxious about a return to Constantinople instructing him to set aside whatever business he had in hand and fly as quickly as possible to the royal city. "For your arrival," she said, "and the death of your most dear son are of great concern to the Emperor." He hastens his return. These things, however, were making the man sorrowful and causing him a great battle of thoughts. On the one hand, the news of his son's death gripped him, and on its account he was hastening to return; on the other hand, he feared the inopportune time, and there was a suspicion that by returning he might fall into dangers -- especially because he had been invited to return not by any command of the Emperor but only by his wife's letters. While he was thus wavering in mind, torn by the double emotion of desire and fear, a certain nobleman approached and, making mention of the admirable Luke, said: "Only confer with him and set forth to him the matters at hand, and with all doubt removed, you will thoroughly learn what must be done and what is expedient." Upon hearing this, the Praetor, without any delay and deferring the matter to no longer postponement, thought it of the greatest value to come into the Saint's presence; and having attained his goal, he heard not such things as the oracles of Pythia pronounced -- slippery and ambiguous things -- but clearly and plainly what was advantageous. predicting favorable outcomes, he impels him to the journey For the Saint said with fitting propriety of character and confidence, neither looking to ostentation nor, on the other hand, regarding the prefecture by which the man was powerful as something great and divine: "Ascend, Lord Praetor, to Constantinople, free from all sadness and fear; and the Lord will turn all your difficulties into prosperous things. For the Emperor will look upon you with gracious eyes, and you yourself will behold your son healthy and freed from all disease." The Praetor, hearing these things as if from the tongue of a Prophet inspired by God, and no longer doubting anything further, commits himself to the journey. When, having arrived, he saw that all things had happened just as they had been predicted, he does not conceal the miracle in silence but commits the splendid narrative to the ears of many.

[5] The opposing commanders John the Rector, Leo and Pothus Argyrus led the army; and when the Bulgarians were victorious, Leo and Pothus Argyrus retreated in flight to a castle. Moreover, the Emperor Romanus had given his daughter Agatha in marriage to the son of Leo Argyrus, as Cedrenus and Curopalates report. Perhaps Pothus was the brother of this Leo.

CHAPTER X.

The Monastic Habit to Be Held in Honor. Various Predictions of Saint Luke: Healings: Hospitality Divinely Defended.

[59] As for what happened in the case of the most distinguished and illustrious Crinitus, who among writers, recording it in documents and in memory, Summoned to Thebes by Crinitus, Praetor of Attica would escape the charge of envy and a wicked mind, or of laziness? For he likewise, having been entrusted with the prefecture of Attica and making his journey to assume it, being now near Larissa, since his ears were full of those narratives which were spread abroad by common report concerning the Saint's deeds -- or rather, miracles -- there came upon him a desire to see him and to engage in conversation with him. When therefore he was not far from Thebes, he immediately sent for and summoned him. The Saint, following without any delay the servant who called him, with others he is ordered to dine found the Praetor reclining at table, for it was also the hour of dinner. Then, when his arrival was known, at Crinitus's bidding, he too entered and became one of the diners; and he rose with the others and began to return, when, as chance would have it, the one who had summoned him with such eagerness had exchanged not a single word with him. This vexed the Saint -- not on his own account (for who was more a lover of ignominy than he?), but on account of the venerable monastic habit and name so slighted in his person. departing, he takes offense at the monastic habit being despised in him Going out, therefore, he addressed one of the Praetor's servants in these words: "As you value life and health, concealing and withholding nothing, announce these things to the Praetor: Why did you cause me so much toil to no purpose? Why did you compel a lover of solitude to enter the city? You did not deign to address me; you gave no kiss; you did none of those things at all which even one who esteemed and cultivated virtue and piety would seem obliged to do. Was it perhaps only for this -- as though I were eager for pleasure -- that you made me a guest at your table? And indeed, with what spiritual words at this table of yours, with what reading of profitable things did you refresh us? Did you not rather fill the time with laughter, and with witticisms and jests that relax the mind? And what sort of figure did you present to your fellow diners? Not seated in any chair, not on a couch, not sitting properly anywhere else, but lying supine upon the spread table? Not girded about the loins with a belt, but with it cast far away, ungirded, and in no way whatsoever differing in bearing from a Gentile. Are these things, then, the marks of a Christian man, and of one who has God in his mind and is held by a desire for salvation?"

[60] Having said these things, and commanding him again to explain everything to the Praetor, the Great One went out to the monastery situated in the suburb, to the monk Antonius. When therefore the Praetor had heard all these things from the boy who reported them, Crinitus coming to him with acknowledgment of his fault because he was truly a modest and humble man and understood that he had performed his duty badly, he recognized that he had been guilty of much negligence in those things which he ought to have attended to with care. He hastens therefore to heal with swift repentance what had been sinned through carelessness; and immediately mounting his horse, he betakes himself to the Saint, and first indeed, excusing himself with fervor and diligence, he quickly also obtains pardon. For the man was also of an understanding mind, and his dealings were with one who was very easily inclined to compassion. Then, commanding the bystanders to withdraw, he converses alone with him alone, he makes excuses and wins him as a friend with the conversation extending until evening. What then results? He was joined to the Saint with such fervor of love that his soul was, as it were, glued to him -- to use that Davidic expression -- nor would he willingly endure his absence even for the briefest time; and finally, for all his necessary uses and services he most readily served and contributed expenses; just as he contributed the most important things of all for erecting the shrine of the victorious Martyr Barbara, 1 Kings 18:1 and founder of the church of Saint Barbara and devoted to it both much labor and great expense. Since, however, it was necessary for him to return to Byzantium, his term of office being now nearly completed, he approached the Saint and asked to be fortified with his prayers as provision for the journey, and indeed he took care lest, once he had departed, the Saint should consign him to oblivion. he predicts that a new praetorship will be assigned to him But Luke said to him: "But you will by no means see the royal city at this time; for God still wills that you be employed in the western regions." So he spoke. And the other, setting out on his journey, when he had already reached Larissa, reversed his route, giving undoubted credence to the words. For immediately there came an imperial decree determining him to be Praetor and Governor of the Peloponnese. These things too are plainly worthy of admiration.

[61] But what he predicted concerning Crete is so remarkable that, although it has much truth attesting it, namely that Crete would be recovered under Romanus the younger it nearly loses credibility through the wonder of the thing. For he predicts that it would be taken some twenty years beforehand, and under which Prince it would be taken, speaking thus clearly: "Romanus shall subdue Crete." Since, however, at the time when he said these things, Romanus the elder held power, a certain one of those standing by asked whether this was the very one who then reigned. He replied: "Not this one, but another."

[62] A certain noble woman of the city of Thebes fell into a grave disease. a woman of desperate health Her husband therefore, having spent much money on physicians, had squandered his substance in great part, yet had brought no benefit to his wife. Wherefore the man of God becomes their last hope. Taking pity on the grieving husband who fervently besought him, he called a monk named Pancratius and said to him: "Taking this" -- showing him a small vessel full of oil -- "go to the wife of this man and anoint her entire body yourself with your own hands upon the bare flesh." Pancratius, not doubting at all healed by an anointing performed at his command by another (for he was adorned with simplicity and the Saint's good character), went to those who had asked. At first, indeed, they admitted the contact reluctantly, because the thing seemed improper. But then, since they were not ignorant of who the one commanding was, they too, obeying the laws of necessity, admitted the ministration. Pancratius therefore anointed the woman from head to foot, obediently yielding to his father's commands and showing himself a son of obedience. But see what fruit of obedience resulted. He departed without being harmed by even a passing thought from the touch of that body. But see also the power of the faith of the suppliants. Immediately upon the anointing, the woman cast off her disease -- more swiftly than she had removed her garments. And this too was a certain proof of the man's supreme freedom from passions, or imperturbability: that he often lay down not far from women, when it so happened, without feeling the least harm from it, or receiving even a single impulse of thought.

[63] Indeed, the monk Pancratius himself narrated to me that the Father was accustomed to be warned by a voice falling from heaven he is customarily warned by heaven of an impending incursion of barbarians when an incursion of Gentiles was already imminent, so that he himself, being the first of all to withdraw and hide, might take precaution against the plundering of his neighboring inhabitants -- just as he himself confessed when questioned. For all were watching him as they would a Prophet; and unless they had first seen him seeking refuge in flight,

[6] no one at all would cease from his labors or leave his home, but all would spurn the report as false and containing nothing sound. When on one occasion, upon such a voice being given, we had taken to flight, and we two -- I and the Father -- had secretly entered a certain cave, two women who were wandering about came upon us as the sun was already setting toward the west. The Father, taking pity on them because winter also accompanied the flight, thought they should not be turned away. We therefore received them within the cave with us, he shelters and cares for wandering women in a cave and we bestowed upon them such care as was possible. When the time for sleep arrived, placing us in one part and reclining himself in another, he directed that the women be left in the middle on account of the cold; and so he passed the time as though a son were drawing near to his mother, or as though some stones or logs lay beside him, not even the slightest carnal thought stealing in. So indeed had simplicity and a supreme freedom from passions, like a mother, made him an earthly Angel.

[64] Philip was the brother by blood of the monk Theodosius, who was himself one of the monastic disciples of the Saint. This Philip, then, since he was a layman and held a secular dignity (the custom is to call such men Spatharii), would frequently visit the Great One on account of his close relationship with his brother. Predicting that Philip the Spatharius would come On a certain day, therefore, when he was about to come as usual, the great man, seeing him with those eyes by which he saw, addressed Theodosius graciously: "Prepare whatever things are necessary for a feast, for your brother is coming and will dine with us." When the Father had spoken thus, he orders a feast to be prepared a joy mingled with astonishment seized Theodosius, and he immediately began to watch the public roads, crossroads, and intersections in expectation of his brother. When evening had now come, the man arrived, bringing with him a great supply of provisions necessary for sustenance. A table is therefore set, and all recline together with the Saint. There was nothing placed upon the table that they all did not allow themselves to eat in like manner, he dines more lavishly, on account of love for his guest on account of the surpassing good of love. Having thus feasted and mutually delighted one another, and having also performed the customary canon after supper, they retired to bed.

[65] The Father, however, having briefly tasted sleep, immediately rises; and while some attended the office, Philip's brother, knowing him to be unaccustomed to such a vigil, labor, and watching, bade him go back to sleep until the prooimiaca canticles and the versified laudation, as they call it, were completed. But when he had returned to bed, accused by Philip of gluttony and hypocrisy he began to be beset by many thoughts and -- to use that Davidic saying -- to travail with mischief and bring forth iniquity, Psalm 7:15 deeming the admirable man a glutton and a wine-drinker who was merely simulating religion. And this was first the work of the one who secretly sows evil seeds in our souls; but also of the man's own mean and insufficiently noble spirit, who judged all things simply from outward appearances and could think nothing great or more sublime, nor did he consider that for them to eat of what was set before them had not been an act of gluttony but of a more generous dispensation: partly indeed on account of a more abundant love, as was already declared above -- namely, what was worse being despised for the sake of a greater good (for what is abstinence from food compared to so surpassing a love?) -- and partly so that, by his excessive modesty, he might appear to be such as he had in fact seemed to Philip in his great rudeness and foolishness. That these things were so and that Philip conjectured badly, in a vision, between two youths who praise him was shown by a vision placed before his eyes by him who is "the faithful witness in heaven." For while Philip was revolving those thoughts and dwelling upon them, sleep overtook him; and in his dreams he saw two youths. Such was their beauty, and such the splendor that shone from their faces, as neither speech could express nor eyes endure. They stood there with countenances hostile toward him and indicative of a bitter spirit, and said: "Why do you trouble yourself with such thoughts? Why do you charge an innocent man? Lift up your eyes that look upon the earth and see how great an honor this man has merited, who in your judgment is a seducer and a hypocrite and falsely wears the sacred monastic habit." Then Philip, fixing his eyes intently upon the one whom the youth pointed out, he appears to him in illustrious form beholds something great and worthy of admiration. A certain most precious purple cloth was spread upon the ground. And standing upon it, the Great One shone forth with something marvelous and inexpressible, both in form and in attire, and appeared in his entirety to be truly light. Philip, released from sleep, approached trembling and with altered countenance to the place where the Fathers were holding their office; and setting forth everything -- both what he had turned over in his mind while sitting up in bed during his waking hours, and what he had marvelously beheld in his dreams -- and having obtained pardon, he remains to this day proclaiming the miracle and justly condemning himself for having undeservedly condemned the Just One.

CHAPTER XI.

The Death of Saint Luke: His Burial: Honor Shown to Him in Death.

[66] From that time when the admirable man, having bidden farewell to the coastal places, had come to the site of Soterium, He obscurely indicates that death is imminent for him and had there established his monastic hut of ascetic exercise, the seventh year having now run its course, he foreknew that his blessed death was already at the gates and near at hand. Yet he revealed it to no one; but, as though pressed by some necessary business, going forth from his cell, visiting all his friends and neighbors, bidding farewell and kissing the lips, eyes, and face of each, he would say: "Pray for me, Brothers, pray; for it is uncertain whether we shall henceforth see one another." When therefore, having thus visited all those round about, he had afterward returned to his cell and had lived three more months, at first a slow disease crept in, he is seized by a fever and then, with the fever pressing more violently, when the eighth day had now passed, all clearly knew that he would leave the dwelling of the body and migrate to God

[7] whom he had loved. When the neighboring inhabitants of the surrounding towns heard this, although the winter was fierce and immense snow falling from the sky had rendered the roads nearly impassable and the houses inaccessible, they could not, however, be restrained from coming to him. the people rushing in from every side Indeed, all streaming together as if in one body, they remained with him until the ninth hour, mindful of nothing at all of food and giving no thought to returning to their homes. They all stood with their faces intent upon him, refreshed by his cheerful countenance, and they desired to hear his most dear voice and to receive his last words and prayers. Nor did they endure being separated thus far from the bed of the one who lay there, or that each should return home, leaving behind the sight of him. For how great a wound that final and mortal separation would inflict upon them, he embraces them and wishes them well and how much their spirits were affected on his account, their constant tears flowing from their eyes made manifest -- until at last, having embraced all and wished them well, he dismissed them even against their will, groaning mournfully and stricken with terrible grief.

[67] But when the Priest Gregory remained with him, the Great One inquired of him the time. When he answered that the sun was declining toward its setting, knowing that the moment was near when he too, a most beautiful star, would set, he said: "Go, and recite the evening prayers as quickly as you can." When, moreover, he had fulfilled what he had been commanded, thinking that the Saint wished to ask for something that was necessary, he inquired where he wished to be buried after death. The Saint bore this with displeasure and said: "What? Is it not an open shame to seem ignorant of such a matter -- namely, that with ropes tied to my feet I ought to be cast into some chasm, he determines the place of burial so that, if indeed I am useless for anything else, I may at least serve as food for the beasts?" But when the Priest, not at all frightened by the harshness of the reply, asked again and again about the burial, so that tears also flowed in a copious stream mingled with his words (for he did not wish even after death to depart in anything from the Saint's will), Luke said: "Digging in the place where I lie, you will find baked bricks. Remove these, and preparing the place somewhat decently, take care to return dust to dust. Then arrange the bricks upon the surface of the earth. and predicts that it will be made illustrious by miracles For it is God's concern," he said, "that for reasons known to him in his hidden wisdom, he should glorify this place to the very consummation of the world, with the faithful peoples streaming hither and praising his divine name."

[68] Having said these things, and having kissed him and those who were likewise present, then at last stretching toward heaven and opening his eyes, saying "Into your hands," etc., he dies and pronouncing abundantly those words, "Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit," he sent forth his blessed soul -- leaving behind to those from whom he departed ample matter for mourning, but filling those to whom he passed with every joy and gladness; and indeed adding to these as well an additional measure, not ceasing to be spiritually present to those from whom he had departed, or to cherish them paternally as sons. In the morning, the Priest, summoning the neighboring inhabitants, dug the place and prepared it as honorably as he could, he is buried and after completing the customary Canon, deposited his sacred body in it like a treasure -- not avariciously or meanly, as though it were to be kept hidden for himself alone, but so that it might serve as a common possession for the enjoyment of those who love Christ. Then, laying bricks over the place above, as he had been commanded, he departed.

[69] Six months having passed since the Father's falling asleep, a certain monk and eunuch, from the region of the Paphlagonians, named Cosmas, setting out for Italy, when he had come to the region of Chrysiaria, thought he should refresh his body with some little rest there. A guardian is appointed to the tomb, roused by a divine vision A certain divine dream was presented to the man as he slept, which he, narrating to the inhabitants of the place, was told that he must halt his journey at that place. "It is God's will," they said, "that you should serve the admirable and younger Luke; and for this reason he has caused you to undertake this journey." He, doubting no further at all, as though drawn by some divine hand, is led to the cell of the holy man; and when, having arrived and come to the spot, he recognized the place to be so delightful and suited to repose, he was flooded with immense joy and resolved that he would dwell there henceforth. Immediately therefore, seeing that the shrine of the sacred relic was kept without beauty and neglected, he devoted some care for the time being to adorning it. For he raises it and elevates it above the ground; then he decorates the place with panels, and with railings placed round about and garlands makes it inaccessible and untouchable in this manner -- except only if any persons, coming with faith and great veneration, might wish to approach it more closely.

[70] After one and then another year, certain of his disciples, the place is adorned perceiving that healings were gushing forth there like streams from a fountain, judging themselves not to be good offspring of a good Father unless, like foster-children, they should seem to render fitting services even after death, are stirred to build cells and to erect a church. And first indeed they carefully complete the temple of the divine Martyr Barbara, which had been built in a rougher fashion. And they added as much decoration as was possible. Then they build a great many small buildings, of various designs, the cell is converted into an oratory both for the common use of the Brothers and for receiving guests. In addition, they most beautifully convert the very cell in which the tomb of the Great One had been placed, its former appearance having been changed, into a sacred oratory fashioned in the form of a Cross -- so that the outcome of events might demonstrate the truth of that saying of the Saint, both about the place and about those who would stream thither in great multitudes.

CHAPTER XII.

Ointment Flowing from the Coffin. Various Miracles.

[71] Moreover, it is time for us to make mention of the miracles which followed the blessed passing of this wise man. Not indeed of all of them, Miracles performed after death are selected nor in order (for how could we, since they are so numerous and flow as incessantly as the streams of a river -- especially since they have not ceased to flow even to this day?), but taking a few from among the many, we shall narrate them to the glory of God and for the profit of you who are gathered here for this purpose. For it would be absurd, having set forth those things which were accomplished while he was still living, to condemn the man to oblivion by the law of the dead, as it were, by passing over in silence those things which followed his death -- although he plainly shows himself to us from his works to be alive in Christ. Add to this that the things done after death carry both greater admiration and greater credibility, since no suspicion obscures them, and they both attest and prove more fully the force of our love toward him.

[72] Let a woman therefore enter first, burdened with a troublesome bodily infirmity as well as a grievous affliction -- indeed pressed by yet another evil as well, as the discourse will now show in its progress -- and on that account very worthy of consolation, a woman crippled in hands and feet as indeed she also received it from that good one who is most kindly accustomed to console all who dwell in sadness and affliction. This woman, then, whether by chance or by envy and wicked working, was immobile in hands and feet, so that those limbs plainly seemed to hang from the rest of the body and to preserve their proper structure, yet as far as concerns

[8] action and movement, they were foreign and each refused its proper service -- so that, as far as they were concerned, the woman would be reckoned not living but dead. To the accumulation of so great an evil there was added -- indeed an evil worse than that one -- the fact that the son whom she was to have as a supplement and refreshment for her need was himself driven by a wicked demon and was continually dashed against the ground and torn apart. Those related to her by blood, taking pity on her calamity and a son possessed by a demon and placing her as if an inanimate burden upon a pack-saddle, and holding her on all sides, brought her to the new Siloam, the tomb of Blessed Luke, with the son also following. Those who brought them, having left them there, returned home. But how great are the judgments of God! The Saint overlooked her, and for a considerable length of time delayed the healing. At last the woman herself, worn out by the delay and having cast away hope of a cure, was thinking of returning.

[73] But indeed (O your hidden goodness, Christ, and the inexpressible excellence of the miracle wrought in her!), not long before, the coffin of the holy man, like a fountain, had exuded an ointment of wondrous fragrance, with ointment flowing from his coffin which the guardian, carefully storing and pouring what he had received into a certain lamp vessel, had hung upon the sacred tomb. When therefore the woman, at noon itself, with no one present except her son, was standing beside it, he said to her in a low voice: "Let me rise and drink what is in this lamp." But the mother tried to deter him from attempting this, drunk by the son saying: "Do not, my son, lest the guardian be angry and perchance drive us away with blows." "Not at all," said the boy, "but I shall fulfill the desire of my heart." And immediately rising and taking the lamp vessel, he at once poured it into his mouth; and nothing further happened beyond this. But immediately the boy began to writhe and be torn apart. The mother, however -- and I beg you, let not the miracle strike your ears lightly, but let us be attentive in mind, for now something most welcome will be told -- the woman, then, as though greatly pained and desiring with longing to bring aid to her most dear son (O what a new thing! O what a hidden and inexpressible miracle!), was no longer destitute of hands and feet both are healed as before, but was shown to be perfectly strong and well in both. For she was leaping with her feet and supporting and raising her son with her hands, he himself now also sober and freed from the terrible vexation of the demon. Thus the woman, having marvelously obtained a double benefit in the space of a single hour, with joy and wonder surpassing her power, could not determine what she should do or what thanks she should render for so great a gift. Wherefore, despairing of being able to offer anything else, she rendered what was her own and from herself; and she poured forth tears of gratitude in abundance with a fervent heart and a contrite spirit upon the sacred tomb, as though she wished to repay by her weeping the ointment the boy had drunk up; and so, having kissed the tomb with the utmost delight and adding and singing words of thanksgiving, she became an eloquent herald of the double miracle to all.

[74] After this woman, let another woman also be introduced -- she indeed, as far as she herself was concerned, not afflicted in the same way as the first (I mean as regards her weakened and injured limbs), but as far as her children were concerned, oppressed by a calamity double that of the former woman in respect to a double and most dear offspring. Her name was Nicolao. She had received a double progeny, one male, the other female; yet she did not rejoice over her children, according to Blessed David, Psalm 112:9 but was rather distressed, and on their account endured much grief and sorrow. For she had both of them lame, with feeble foundations of feet, two lame children unable to walk. She therefore grieved in her heart, saying: "Alas for me! Those whom I ought to have as a cause of joy, I have as the matter of many tears. Those whom I hoped would be the staff of my old age, not even a staff can now avail to help them. And so this is what I mourn. Who, when I am dead, will care for you? Who will be a foot for you, or rather a hand of mercy that opens humanely?" brought by their mother to the tomb While she was thus consumed with grief, someone mentions the Saint's tomb -- that true hope, that gratuitous infirmary, of its own accord gushing forth benefits for all. The woman does not neglect it, but placing her most dear pledges upon asses, she leads them to the tomb, and fervently and constantly attending it, she besought that ready benefactor that she might be permitted to gather at least a droplet of mercy, having cast much seed of tears. But since by the hidden ways of providence, even in this act of clemency and mercy, the gift was long delayed, after eight days they are healed eight days having now elapsed, and the woman, overcome by weariness, was sadly setting out on the way home -- yet with such modesty of mind and feeling that she professed the one cause of the delayed gift to be her own unworthiness; and for this reason she unexpectedly obtains the holy man's kindness. For as soon as she had left the church, she beholds healthy feet and firm steps, walking quite securely. This event filled all with amazement, and the mother with joy as well; and she poured forth fervent tears of thanksgiving upon the author of the benefit -- tears opposite to those she had shed before -- and calling together friends and relatives alike, together with them she sent up common songs and the voice of gladness to God.

[75] Let a third woman be added to the accumulation of the previous two. A grave and hard-to-cure disease held her. Physicians are accustomed to call it phagedaena. cured of phagedaena by taking the ointment This disease, besides the harshness it possesses by nature, also rendered the afflicted woman's calamity pitiable on account of the place where it was located. For it had taken root in her very face, and was bringing much pain and disgrace to the woman. She, having endured innumerable treatments from physicians, had not only gained no benefit from them but had also learned that she had lost time for a swifter cure. At length, finally coming to the Saint's tomb, and obtaining partly from the oil of the lamp vessel there, partly from the drops of the venerable coffin, and shedding many tears at the sacred tomb, she required no long span of time in order to be healed; rather, the eighth day plainly freed her from the disease and rendered the surface skin of her face so pure that not the slightest trace of the former evil remained.

[76] Let no one grow weary in mind, hearing yet again of a woman cured of a disease; let us at least reverence the humanity and clemency of the one who heals. Wherefore, to the previous women let this old woman of Boeotia also be present; who was indeed pressed by a disease just as those women were, a grave disease of the eye yet did not struggle with poverty as they did. This woman had the lantern of the body, a member both chief and most delicate -- namely, the eye -- in a diseased condition. For a certain sickness that had grown up about it, as obscure in name as difficult to cure, was causing her sharp and prolonged pains, baffling both the arts and the hands of physicians, and proving stronger than every remedy. This disease, darkening the eye with a mist and filling it with a watery humor, and providing, as from an evil fountain, perennial rivulets, allowed it neither to be an eye nor truly to be called one, since it was destitute of the faculty of sight. This woman, then, coming to the Saint's monastery and entering the divine shrine, prostrated herself before the sacred coffin. And (O the hidden mystery of grace, and power inexpressible by any words!) -- for against so great and altogether insuperable an evil, nothing else availed but, in like manner, the oil from the lamp, mingled with the liquid oozing from the coffin and with the fervor of faith, and applied to the diseased eye. A few days, however, having passed in the meanwhile, she, not having yet obtained perfect health, thought she ought to return -- not through any fault of a pusillanimous spirit or any weakness of faith, but rather through an abundance of faith and confidence that he in whom she had hoped could abundantly supply, even from a great distance, what was still desired for a perfect cure. Nor indeed was she mistaken in her judgment and in the good hope by which she had believed. For when she had not yet reached home but was in the middle of her journey, the eye which had been paining her was entirely illuminated and cleansed, and not a trace of the former disease was left behind, but she obtained perfect health, and it was made like the other eye.

[77] But neither is it fitting to pass over in silence the miracle of Nicolaus, since the Saint too did not think it fitting to despise him when he was stricken by a most grievous calamity. For he was afflicted with a disease like that of the divine Job, suffering in all his members and burdened from head to foot with the worst ulcer, with a continuous discharge of pus flowing from him -- horrible to behold! Those who gave a correct judgment about it called the disease

the "sacred fire." the sacred disease When Nicolaus was held by such a sickness, and, as is usual in such cases, was causing nausea in all, he hastened to the sacred shrine of Luke and made use of the excellent remedies available there, by which every disease and languor might very easily be dissolved -- namely, the oil of the lamp and the liquid oozing from the sacred coffin. When therefore, on one occasion, the vessel was overflowing with liquid, and he was sitting beside it and watching with delight of soul the streams flowing down, he fell into it -- unwillingly indeed, but not entirely without divine purpose. And who would not be struck with delight and not immediately marvel at the novelty of the cure? It washed away the disease as easily as some dust or stain. And thus this man worthy of memory, who had led his life in continence and frugality, is nevertheless seized by a demon -- by what judgments he knows who disposes all things as he knows to be expedient -- whether this happened for the purging of some hidden and former sin, or for the crushing of the harmful tumor of pride, or for some other cause unknown to us but known to God. For several years he endured many and grievous torments from that demon, being dashed about, torn apart, shaken by dreadful terrors, and vexed by every kind of affliction. the demoniac is freed But coming again to the Saint's coffin and persevering there for not a few days, he too experienced the slow yet fervent grace of the one who succors. What then did this pious and God-loving man do? He returned home; yet not even so did he despond, so as not to hope for a cure; but still he came frequently and fell down before the coffin in supplication. And now, persevering three or more days in this manner, he was thinking of returning. And so to him, as he came and prayed with the Fathers at the Saint's tomb, Saint Luke appearing the Saint appeared in sleep, and calling him by name, commanded him to open his mouth. Then, when the man performed what he had been commanded more swiftly than words can tell, the Saint breathed into it and said: "Go now, healed, announcing to all the wondrous works of God." And when he was released from sleep, knowing that the dream was not a dream but manifest truth, he narrated the matter to all; and all with one accord celebrated God and his servant with praises.

CHAPTER XIII.

Other Miracles, Also Bestowed upon Those Absent: Demons Expelled.

[78] Indeed, how could anyone rightly pass over the miracle of John -- a good man, well disposed toward the veneration of the Saint, who nevertheless by some unknown means had been seized by a foul demon and for many years been miserably vexed by him? Since therefore the scourge was grievous and of long duration, and the vexation admitted no remission (for how would that spirit spare himself or bestow any mercy upon a man, whose nature is truly envious and hostile to the human race?), one possessed by a demon is freed at last, understanding whence he might find a cure, he took refuge at the sacred tomb of Luke and made use of the more powerful remedies -- namely, the oil from the lamp and the ointment gushing from the tomb, with which Brother Pancratius also anointed him with his own hands. For it was Pancratius's custom, to those similarly affected as well, always and everywhere to extend the bowels of compassion, and to be a helping and kindly right hand to them, so that he was invoked by name by them as an aid, when they had felt the frequent attacks of the demon. Many days having elapsed in the meantime, John was giving an example of extraordinary patience. For he did not grow weary, he was not driven by doubt, nor did thoughts of faintheartedness assail him, but "waiting he waited for the Lord," Psalm 39:2 until, his prayer having been heard, the Saint freed him from the troublesome tyranny of the demon. And he freed him in this manner: six months had now passed; then, appearing to him by night as he lay asleep, the Great One drove away from him his unwelcome guest -- that wicked spirit -- and, speaking mouth to mouth, engaged in private conversation with him about hidden things; and he commanded that he tell no one until the necessary silence of death itself.

[79] But also another man of the same name, and akin to the first in the likeness of his disease as well (for he too was called John, and had been seized by a wicked demon, and had already suffered from its hostility for many years), obtained by a like remedy a like cure. For appearing to him by night as he slept, in his own habit, and holding his head, likewise another the Saint commanded him to open his mouth. Then he was seen with his right hand to lower a hook to the very throat and to draw it out again. "Behold," he said, "you are freed from the evil spirit; and having found salvation through faith, go in peace." Scarcely had he spoken when the word became deed, and at once the man was freed both from sleep and from the demon; and rendering songs of thanksgiving, he was thereafter restored rejoicing to his home.

[80] As for the man who received the benefit of the miracle about to be told, what his country was and what name he bore is unknown to us. He had dim and feeble sight: both lanterns of the body being extinguished, he was deprived of their light, which all men hold most sweet. This man, having cast away hope of every human remedy, a blind man is given sight since the disease surpassed human art and healing, took refuge with the Saint; and entering his temple and raising at once the eyes of his hands and of his mind on high, he said: "Dispel my darkness, you who stand beside the true Light as its possessor. Free me from this night that holds me. Let me see your image. Let me gaze upon the coffin of your body. Let me behold the monastery. Let me be delighted by the sight of the shrine. I will proclaim to all and narrate your wondrous works, my mouth being filled with joy and my tongue with exultation." So he prayed; but because the Saint delayed in healing, he was overcome by weariness and was returning home, by a faint-hearted resolution putting the hope of a cure behind him. Yet not even so did the man of God, who was most ready to show mercy, despise him; but while he was still on his journey and in the course of the road, fulfilling his vow and granting what he most ardently desired, he bestowed upon him the gift of sight -- not all at once, nor immediately restoring full clear vision in a single moment, but gradually unfolding and clearing the gloomy retreat of the sad darkness. And at first indeed he was struck by incredulity, and did not believe what was happening to be real. But when he clearly perceived all manner of objects placed before his eyes, and saw in like fashion as those who possess sound and whole eyes, filled with joy mingled with wonder, he rendered thanks to the divine Luke and through him to God, and set forth the miracle to all, the abundance of his delight having given him a tongue as eloquent as his eyes.

[81] Nor indeed was the man of God to be a physician of the eyes only, but also of the feet -- nay, of every member and of whatever parts of the body -- as is indeed truly demonstrated. a man diseased in his feet is healed Immediately therefore John, a native of the island of Termenia, being in pain in his feet, and that pain of the feet being so acute that he lay confined to his bed and was miserably wasting away on account of it -- since the disease, to all appearances, was utterly incurable -- upon hearing by report of the miracles of the great Luke, desired with longing to make his way to his monastery and to prostrate himself before the coffin that wrought miracles. Yet he was utterly helpless, nor could he find what to do, for he could not ride a horse. And for him, lying in bed, to complete so great a journey was plainly difficult. What then does he do? He visits the place in mind; he traverses it on the wings of faith; he touches the coffin with his lips.

He calls upon him -- though he was far away in body -- who was not lacking the power to be near through grace, saying: "Let my prayer enter into your sight, and let my petition draw near; and grant, by the power you possess with God, that I may see your coffin with healthy feet, not offering supplication but thanksgiving." Offering such a supplication to the Saint, he did not offer it for many days; but the Saint, hastening the benefit for him, suddenly relieves his pains, looses the fetters of his feet, and immediately shows him whole and sound, so that he not only walked with a free step but even leaped upon his feet -- so much so that he could scarcely believe himself to be the same one who shortly before had been bound in his feet by so great an illness. In a short time, therefore, he makes his way to the monastery on healthy feet, with healthy faith, and entering the divine temple, he prostrates himself before the sign-bearing tomb, saying: "I give you thanks, O man of God, for you have delivered my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling." Psalm 114:8 Then, having spent a brief time in the company of the Fathers and narrating how great his sickness was and what pain of the feet was consuming him (for the narration was indeed sweet), he recounts the disease now freed from the disease, as all grim things appear after they have passed; and how the sudden and most swift restoration of health had come about -- having set forth all things clearly and plainly, he returns home with a joyful heart.

[82] Youth is an ardent and bold thing, and of such a nature that it not rarely presumes with a ready spirit upon things that exceed its strength -- and this especially when it is inclined toward them by a kind of natural weight. The Demetrius now proposed for our narrative, who was also called Calonas (for he bore a double name), amply confirms this with his story. He, in his luxuriant youth and swelling with bodily strength, was digging a pit in his very house another man, with his intestines flowing out -- which certain country folk called a Gouma -- in which to store wheat and barley, and if any other kind of legume. Then, when the trench had already been dug to a great depth, there appeared a stone of enormous weight and size, which he, grasping with both hands, attempted to extract. But since it was of far greater bulk than could yield to the hands of one man, he received as the dire and wretched reward of this senseless and ambitious endeavor: his intestines flowing out from the violent straining, and his groin (alas!) filled with a pitiable burden -- as though he were paying the penalty for an excessive desire to display his strength, and suffering things which it would be better not to display but rather to conceal. Since therefore, from that accident, he had become difficult to move, or rather altogether immobile of himself, his relatives, rushing together, with difficulty at last extracted him and, struck with immense grief and pain, placed him in bed. While he lay weeping and desolate, reaping the fruits of his folly and receiving no consolation from anyone, God sent his mercy upon him through the compassion of his good servant; and the occasion of his cure arose from the presence of a passerby. For a certain man among his acquaintances, recently returned from the monastery, was carrying oil from the lamp placed at the venerable tomb of the Saint. Handing this to him, he bade him anoint the affected parts. And when he did as he was ordered (and indeed not more than three days passed in the doing), the pain and the disease ceasing entirely, he began to praise the Saint, having now obtained perfect health, and to proclaim his miracles.

[83] Nor should the miracle of Constantinus be overlooked; nor indeed is it of such a kind that, on account of the multitude of miracles, it might seem unnecessary to commit it to writing. For besides redounding to the glory of God, it furnishes a most beautiful example of patience and teaches that in sorrowful circumstances one must by no means despair of God's goodness when, as we pray and he delays in showing mercy, he has deferred our deliverance from evils for reasons of a deeper providence. This Constantinus, then, born in the city of Thermopylae and dwelling there, by a demon fell prey to a most troublesome demon, who not only simply seized him but also filled his soul with terrors and darkness, miserably vexed and savagely injured him in every way. The man was therefore frequently dashed down and fell, and endured all things that the possessed customarily suffer: contortions, tearings, vertigoes, and whatever else those who are bound by such an evil are accustomed to undergo. What then did he do? Scorning all human help, he fled to God and, seeking his servant and his sacred shrine, prostrated himself before the divine coffin and watered it with the most fervent tears. Then he made use of the oil of mercy, truly an averter of demons and of every disease, and did nothing day and night but pray, prostrate himself, weep, and anoint himself with oil mixed with tears. And while he was constant in these things, he awaited God's clemency; yet the divine kindness delayed, and the benefit was deferred to longer postponement -- not, however, without purpose, but so that his soul might obtain something profitable and conducive to salvation. For there is nothing, whether among things done of old or things now accomplished in us, that is not known to tend principally to the profit of the soul. Therefore he also made use of the delay as was fitting, after some years he is freed with no blunting of the vigor of his faith, making no mention of home or of returning, saying or doing nothing that might seem faint-hearted, nor even presuming it in thought. And this course, even if pursued for a short time, would have merited praise; yet not so as to be worthy of admiration under the title of patience. But for Constantinus, the delay sufficed not for one or two months but extended to whole years, so that it might plainly be stretched out in proportion to the greatness of his soul, in order that he might obtain not only liberation from the demon but also the salvation of his soul -- which also came to pass. And in the present life indeed he is released from the demonic oppression, while the rewards of his faith he will plainly receive in the future.

[84] Another man, drawing his lineage from Euboea but whose name is unknown, fell into a similar evil, he too having been seized by a most savage demon; and vexed in a similar manner, he made use of a similar refuge -- namely, the coffin of the divine Luke. Now a certain one of those to whom the public offices of trade are entrusted (whom it is customary to call a Comerciarius), named Christophorus, came to the sacred church on account of his faith, and having obtained the privilege of venerating the venerable tomb, and being more generously received as a guest by the Fathers, as evening was now approaching, he asked that he might be permitted to sleep beside the coffin. But the Fathers refused, since no one else, except the man who was sick, was attending the tomb. He then said: "But let some other place receive this man for this night, and let me be allowed to approach the divine coffin; for indeed it would be rather unpleasant to remain under one roof with a sick man." The Fathers granted this too; and he settled himself beside the divine coffin, while the sick man, commanded to spend the night in some other place, was seized with immense grief, another demoniac appears to be healed apart from the coffin reckoning what had been done as a slight and an injury, and feeling as though he would not obtain the Saint's grace because he had been forbidden to spend the night at the sacred coffin. But he who consoles ...