OF THE SAME: ENCOMIUM ON OUR HOLY FATHER EPHRAEM
LIFE AND ENCOMIUM OF OUR HOLY FATHER EPHRAEM THE SYRIAN
(Translated by Gerard Vossius)A hidden meaning in the divine Gospels seriously urges me toward the subject of my discourse; it loosens my tongue, which had been constrained by the bridle of silence; it levels and adorns the paths of my thoughts as if they were vast fields; it renders the chariot of my speech prompt and swift for the journey it must undertake, while it cries out A clearly in these words: *Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, that it may give light unto all that are in the house.* And he adds what is to be understood from this in its depth, saying: *Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works.* Shall we then be justly blamable if, negligent and slothful, we shroud in silence that which the Lord himself has commanded us to celebrate with great courage? For when He has kindled the life of this holy Father as a torch, illustrious and more radiant than the sun, and set it before the world, and has proposed it to us to be expounded, He does not permit us, by passing over it in silence, to hide it under a bushel; but rather to place it upon the lofty height of the Church, so that it may shine for all who dwell in this house of the whole world, and that those who receive light from it may glorify and praise the heavenly Father.
B Therefore, the paternal constraint of that man is not to be feared in such a way that the commandment of the Lord Himself is despised; indeed, the beginning of this eulogy should have been taken precisely from there, even if we have relegated that matter to the final part of our speech. For to one who rightly examines the thing itself, that does not seem to be a constraint at all, which forbids the adorning with praises one who turns away from human glory; or indeed, it is a constraint easy to resolve, an obligation of such a kind that it rather urges those who love him to fulfill the very task itself. For through the very things by which he imagined he would avoid our praises, having blocked the attempt with a constraint, through these C very things we...
take the occasions for our encomia. For while each of his excellences provides a rich subject for perfect praise, that which shines forth most of all is his lack of pleasure in being praised. He wanted, in fact, not to seem good, but rather to be so. For that reason alone, even if he had performed nothing else worthy of praise, he would certainly deserve to be praised, because he said he took such pleasure in encomia that he sealed off all criticism arising from them with a tie. This A opens the first stadium of our discourse and informs us not to walk aimlessly, nor to be carried toward a precipice, but to travel the royal road, well considering that, had the wonderful man of God not perceived himself to be worthy of praise, he would not have kept those who wished to praise him from doing so. For no one who is not already an object of wonder, while still alive, for the greatest of excellences, would mandate to those who come after that his own memory be allowed to perish in the slip of forgetfulness.
To this, indeed, one must also add the following: just as Paul, the orator of grace, the brideman of the Church, the mouth of Christ, did not lose the title of Apostle because he said, "I am not worthy to be called an Apostle"—nay, rather, by that very act of humility he gained even greater glory—so also this great Father of ours, having judged himself unworthy of praise out of piety, will be found worthy through the consequence of his deeds.
B Since, therefore, it is the custom and ordinance of our Church to crown those who vie for virtue because they have embraced its parts; and most especially those who, on account of their humble estimation of themselves, have become spiritually exalted, according to that which is said in the Gospels by the Lord: "He who humbles himself shall be exalted"; those who describe the virtues of this present God-bearing Father, and who raise up his life for us like a living and breathing column, are in no wise to be censured, derided, or reproved. The wise listener will perceive the truth of what we have mentioned if, once the discourse is finished, he gathers together the various kinds of his virtues, from which we, having fashioned a crown as it were of gold-inlaid, precious, and diverse stones, offer a desired gift to the bride of Christ, the Church; for she delights in being honored by such gifts whenever the annual memory of the righteous arrives. And how could she not joyfully receive his monument, now that the course of time has brought us to the feast of Ephraim?
C I must celebrate that Ephraim who is on the lips of all Christians. I speak of Ephraim the Syrian; for I am not ashamed of the race whose character is my ornament. Ephraim, whose splendor of life and contemplation has shone forth over the whole earth; who is known in almost every place illuminated by the sun, and remains unknown only to those— D
who are ignorant of the great light of the Church, S. Basil; Ephraem, that truly known Euphrates of the Church, by whose waters the multitude of Christians is irrigated, bringing forth a hundredfold fruit of faith. Ephraem, that fertile vine of God, which, producing fruits of doctrine like sweet clusters of grapes, nourishes, fills, refreshes, and delights the children of the Church with divine charity. Ephraem, the good and faithful steward of the Church, who, distributing the resources of the virtues equally among his fellow servants, most prudently administers the household of God. A Regarding his lineage and nobility—both that which was acquired by himself and that received from his forebears—the glory of his parents, his birth, upbringing, growth in age, physical state, status, his arts, and other such matters as are wont to be recited by secular writers as being of the greatest moment in praise, we consider it superfluous to bring them forward here, since it is not ordained that holy men should be praised by such things. And although, in order to praise him, arguments abound even from such sources, let us not weave the crown of our oration by any other ways and means than those by which he rendered himself illustrious in life and doctrine. For true praises consist in those things which are placed within ourselves; and to those things are due the rewards which proceed from our own will; and vituperations are false, and praises are inept.
B Furthermore, of those things which we have commemorated, in what way will he wish to be praised from his lineage, he who despised all the nobility and pomp of the world, and desired to become a son of God through the best of works? Or how can he allow himself to be celebrated for his country, he who considered the whole world as belonging to himself, and who turned away from material creation as an enemy, because of the immortal beatitude stored up in the heavens? Or how can he be delighted by the celebrity of his ancestors or parents, he who trampled underfoot the physical condition and the very animal tunic of the flesh itself, as something that impedes the swiftest courses toward virtue, and utterly discarded it? Or finally, in what way would he allow himself to be adorned by the growth of his body, or his education, or by his arts, or other such despised studies of life, he who from childhood was educated and grew in the meditation of the sacred Scriptures, drinking from the perennial fountains of grace, and strove to arrive at the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, as I may speak with the Apostle? C Since, therefore, we know that this great Father of ours does not wish to be overcome with those ridiculous praises by which men dedicated to sense and the body are captivated, we shall endeavor to celebrate him at least moderately through his own labors; for speech does not have the nature to be stretched beyond its strength. Wherefore we shall strive that, neither hindered by puerility, we might shroud in silence the things that ought to be said about him; nor, walking along some path alien to the institutes of the Fathers, do we deflect from the royal way: but running between both, we shall apply the temperament convenient to our oration.
D What, however, are those things which we have proposed and subjected to ourselves for the weaving of his eulogy? Action, indeed, and contemplation, which the swarm of virtues follows in order: faith, hope, charity,
A piety towards God, meditation on the divine Scriptures, purity of soul and body, constant tears, a solitary life, withdrawal from place to place, flight from harmful things, perpetual instruction, unceasing prayer, fasting and vigils that have no measure, sleeping on the ground and asceticism exceeding description, poverty and humility brought to the highest degree, mercy exceeding [that of] the human condition, divine zeal against those who rage against piety; and, simply to speak, everything that he knows characterizes a man according to God. Our Father is adorned with such praises, and he recognizes what is said, and knows his own merits, and cherishes the words, as providers of benefit, not to himself, but to us; since even the mere mention of his name becomes a premise of virtue for the diligent. For we have not learned these things from elsewhere, other than from those things which he himself sowed in his writings concerning himself. From which we, like the praiseworthy bee, having gathered the useful things from many flowers, have fashioned this spiritual honeycomb. And he will not be at all angry with us for this attempt, because he no longer fears the evil demon, since [having] already reached the calm harbors of the incorporeal [spirits] after also B having caused many to stumble at the end of his struggles, he is outside both storm and surge. Come then, therefore, having dwelt a little in the discourse on each of those things enumerated, let us show to those who have gathered [here] what kind of person this wonderful man became, and to what measure of spiritual ascent he attained. For, regarding the faith, he held it very correctly, leaning nowhere far from piety; just as we have learned both from his own writings and from the opinion held about him by the Church; for he equally abhorred the irrational confusion of Sabellius and the maddening division of Arius. He stood within the borders of piety, dividing by number, but connecting in substance, the one and unconfused and all-holy Trinity; so that he might neither reproach the poverty of the Godhead in the Jewish manner, nor rave about a multitude of Gods in the Hellenic manner; which things those who have behaved wantonly concerning the incomprehensible C Trinity are proven to have suffered. And he so much rejected the irrational dogma of Apollinarius, that he put forth every effort to root it out from every Christian soul. Furthermore, through many demonstrative and Scriptural arguments, he stopped the unbridled utterances of the Anomoeans, leaving behind for us, as the greatest security, his own divinely-taught words. But if anyone should wish to witness the defeat of the most audacious Novatus, let him look at the downfall of the opponent in the struggle through the words of Ephraim, in which he will find the superiority of the power of our Teacher in the presentation of the argument to be as great as [between] a pancratiast and a child who is not strong because of tenderness. And he did not only refute the heretical weeds that were stirred up by the sower of wickedness at that time or before, with the orthodox word of faith; but also those which, in the future
A might have flourished malignantly, he foresaw with prophetic eyes and reaped them beforehand. And his every writing and poem is full of these proofs. Thus, the son of truth never turned away from the truth itself; his hope, however, was fixed solely in God, in whom those who place their hopes receive their rewards. For this reason, he was accustomed to use the Psalm in all his deeds and B words: *In him my heart has hoped, and I have been helped.* For *mercy shall encompass him who hopes in the Lord.* And such confidence in the Lord renders one like Mount Zion; and it establishes him who possesses it within the height of beatitude, as it is possible to learn from the prophets themselves, David saying: *Blessed is the man whose hope is the name of the Lord.* And Jeremiah: *Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and the Lord shall be his hope; and he shall be like a tree flourishing by the waters, and it shall cast its roots toward moisture, and he shall not fear when heat comes.* And Isaiah: *The Lord is our King, the Lord is our Savior, he himself shall save us. Behold, God is my Savior, the Lord, I will trust in him and I shall not fear.* And the blessed Paul also admonishes us, saying: *Let us hold fast the confession of our hope; for he is faithful who has promised.*
Nourished by this divine and stored-up hope, Saint Ephrem despised all things human and transitory, and assiduously longed for the eternal glory. And he observed love for God and his neighbor so diligently that, when departing from this world, he recounted these things C as his last words; for it is right to bring into the midst the very words of that holy Father, as being clearer than any demonstration. In no way, he says, in all my life have I been contumelious against the Lord, nor has a foolish word gone out from my lips. In all my life I have cursed no one, nor have I shown myself contentious with any Christian person at all. O happy tongue, which confidently uttered such a voice, which is most appropriate only to angels, because of a life removed from all matter and change! But to us who serve the flesh, it is strange and beyond our nature, and difficult to achieve.
And though you may investigate the labors and lives of many who have been renowned for virtues, you will hardly find anywhere any indication of pure and sincere charity D like that which is in the Father currently before us. If, therefore, charity excels above all virtues, and the blessed Ephrem cultivated this as no other of the Fathers has done—for *each shall receive according to his deeds*—we shall leave it to others to conclude this, so that we may not seem to be comparing Fathers with Fathers. For we have not introduced what has been said for the sake of comparison, but only so that it may be clearly evident to the people that this man of ours, or rather the teacher of the entire Church, Saint Ephrem, has reached the highest rung on the spiritual ladder of virtues.
A He acquired piety in the possession of true wisdom, according to that word in Job: "Behold, piety is wisdom." Through this, just as we explained a little earlier when describing the purity of his faith, he ascended to the third heaven, like Paul, and gained for himself immortal memory and lasting glory in the Church. His meditation on the holy Scriptures was kindled by the Davidic lamp, as he said: "In my meditation, a fire shall be kindled." For love, inflaming him with the fire of heavenly contemplation, aroused in him a sublime ardor for divine things. For having thoroughly studied every Scripture, both Old and New—and having devoted himself to such speculations as no one else had—he accurately interpreted the whole, word for word; from the creation of the world down to the final book of grace, he brought the depths of hidden mysteries into the light, using the Spirit as his lamp. B Indeed, he not only drew from the whole spiritual chalice of this divine wisdom of ours and shared it with others, but he also exercised himself in secular learning, in everything that concerns the proper and refined use of language and the depth of concepts, having practiced this very diligently, taking what was useful and casting aside what was useless, weighing both action and contemplation in the scales of justice. He attained a purity of soul and body such as nature allowed—or rather, that which is above nature, for it is a gift of grace. For he did not allow his soul to waver from the habit of right reason; rather, he truly reigned over his soul, while his body shone with radiant splendor. C And the conversion of the harlot of whom history speaks bears witness to what has been said; she whom the murderer Belial used as a snare of wickedness to deceive the enlightened man was so far from what was hoped, that she herself was brought to battle against the tempter himself. Through exhortations, admonitions, and what might be called the incantations of divine words, she was changed and reshaped for the better, so that she was shown to be chaste instead of profligate, dignified instead of shameful, and pure instead of defiled. D As for me, desiring to speak of the ever-flowing river of his tears, I am myself seized by tears; for one could hardly sail across the sea of his tears without tears of one’s own. For just as breathing is natural to all men and is perpetually active, so too was the weeping of Ephrem. For there was no day, no night, no midnight, no hour, no slightest moment, when his sleepless eyes were seen to be dry; he would lament at one time the common failings and at another his own, as he called them, offenses; and he would wisely channel the rivers of his eyes with sighs, or rather, he would summon forth his sighs with the streams of his eyes. And the progression of both was paradoxical, for one was the cause of the other being manifest; for tears would beget in him...
A sighs, and again sighs would beget tears; and as the cause of this remained unknown to many, for it was a cycle—since time did not put an end to them, but sighs would constantly be followed by tears, and then tears again by sighs—the origin and cause of each was obscure. And anyone who has engaged with his writings will perceive this. For one will find him mourning not only in those discourses which treat of repentance, character, and righteous living, but even in his panegyrical orations themselves, where most men are accustomed to show great exhilaration. He, however, was the same in all places, and he was ever wealthy in the gift of contrition. Whence, even now, he summons almost all who hear his words to the true life. Such strength does his divinely inspired discourse possess, mingled with tears! For who is so unyielding, or so stony of heart, that upon hearing his words he is not softened, and, casting off the harshness of his character, does not grieve sincerely for his own sins? Who is so wild and savage in disposition that, having turned his ears to his soul-profiting instruction, he does not immediately become good and gentle, and a lover of virtue in his behavior? Who is so accustomed to rejoicing in the pleasures of life, and so averse to weeping, that upon hearing a few of his words he will not lament and weep, and come to the remembrance of that recompense which we are to receive for our past life?
"You are trying to boil a stone," the proverb says, applying it to impossibilities. But we have learned by experience that this can be done. For this holy elder plainly softened and broke the souls which, because of their wicked and stubborn hardness, one might call stones, and bent them as he willed. For who, reading his discourse on humility, does not immediately cast aside all self-opinion and foolish arrogance, and confess himself the most abject of all? Who, reading what he wrote on charity, is not so kindled that he is ready to undergo any danger for the sake of charity? Who, unfolding those pages in which he praises virginity, does not strive to present himself chaste to God in body and soul? Who, hearing or reading his discourses in which D he describes the final judgment, or that second coming of Christ, is not so afflicted in heart and mind as if he were already to be brought before that judgment-seat? And does not suddenly tremble with fear, as if the sentence of the Judge were being passed against him personally? For the illustrious and most prophetic man so set forth this future judgment of God of all, that nothing further seems to be lacking for the knowledge of it, except only that the thing itself should actually come to pass and happen before our eyes.
Since, therefore, the blessed man was always occupied with such thoughts concerning the judgment, he fled the world and all that is in it. He withdrew far away, fleeing, as it is written, and remained in solitude, giving himself to God and to his own soul alone, and from there reaping the rewards of virtue. For he already knew aright that those who embrace the solitary life are liberated from the turbulent commotions and storms of this age, and by silence become companions of the angels, and by...
their minds are A raised, as far as is possible, to the contemplation of God. And when the Spirit, moving him for the edification of many, arranged for him to change his abode, he did not resist, nor did he oppose, but yielded humbly. For he was obedient to the divine commands and directives, if ever any man was. Hence, having been ordered, like that holy Abraham of old, to leave his own country, he betook himself to the city of the Edessenes; for it was not right that the sun should long remain hidden beneath the earth. He journeyed thither for two reasons: that he might embrace the holy places there, and, before this, that he might meet with some wise man, and either gather for himself the fruit of knowledge or impart it to others.
Upon arriving at this city, as the story is told, and as he was entering the gate, he met—instead of the learned man he had hoped to find—a harlot. Encountering such a spectacle to his great distress, and finding himself deceived in his expectation, he turned his eyes away. But the wayward woman, fixing her gaze upon him, looked him over attentively. The wise man said to her, "Tell me, woman, why do you stare so fixedly at me?" She promptly replied, "Because I am of you, man; for you, you do not even look at me, but turn your eyes toward the earth from which you were taken." B Hearing this answer, so contrary to his expectation, the wise man confessed that he had derived great profit from it; and he glorified the infinite power of God, who sometimes grants us, beyond our hope, the things we hope for.
Having set out from there, he was led by the Holy Spirit to Caesarea in Cappadocia, where he saw and recognized the great Basil—the mouth of the Church, that golden nightingale of doctrine. When the elder saw him, he began to honor him with many auspicious words. For with the discerning eye of his soul, he saw a radiant dove resting upon his right shoulder, providing him with words of wisdom, which he then set forth to the people. Advised by this sacred and teaching dove, Basil perceived the arrival of the stranger and recognized him to be Ephrem the Syrian. Thus, both were vouchsafed a timely and spiritual communion; and so the laborious journey did not prove useless to Ephrem.
The natural innocence of his life C pointed out to him the flight from harmful things. It taught him to foresee what is better and to avoid what is worse, and to choose those thoughts and rational principles that are pure, conducive to the cultivation of virtue, and in no way a hindrance to the practice of teaching. For the talent of speech had been abundantly bestowed upon the holy elder by Christ, a talent which he was obliged, above all else, to lay out upon the tables of the hearts of many. And this, indeed, he seems to have said of himself: that just as he was barely emerging from the tender age of childhood, he beheld mystically, upon his tongue, that a most fruitful vine had grown up, having increased so much that it filled the
A earth, and every bird of the air that came from it was filled with food. As for the vine itself, the more it was pruned, and the more every bird received of its fruits, so much the more did it abound with clusters. Furthermore, another man, endowed with keen vision, testified that he had seen a sight concerning him: namely, a company of angels descending from heaven, holding in their hands a scroll written within and without. And that divine host which appeared was speaking to itself: "Who then is worthy to receive this scroll?" From among those whom that age held as eminent, some chose this person, others that, and others yet another. Then, after the trial of all, they concluded: "These are indeed holy men and servants of God; yet they are not able to be entrusted with this scroll." But when they had mentioned many of those living at that time, and none among them was found pleasing, at last, having agreed, they said, "No one is able to receive this scroll except Ephraim." And the one who saw this says that he beheld the divine angels delivering the scroll to Ephraim. B Having risen in the night, the man who had been initiated into this vision arrived at the church, and hearing Ephraim teaching in a discourse steeped in abundance and grace, he recognized what the vision signified, and praised God, and was struck with wonder at the rich gift of speech granted to the holy man. For such an abundance of wisdom had been bestowed upon him by God, that although perpetual springs of words flowed to him, they were by no means equal to the explanation of the subjects. And this happened not so much through slowness of tongue as through velocity of thought; for the tongue equaled the power of other men's thinking, yet it was too slow to be able to keep pace with his own conceptions. Whence the great elder, beseeching God for a certain singular gift of utterance, is said to have spoken these words: "Grant, O Lord, the rivers of Thy grace." For the depth of his doctrine overwhelmed his tongue, so that he could not express the thoughts of his soul, since the instruments of speech necessary for C eloquent expression were insufficient for the task.
Furthermore, nothing interrupted his sermons but prayer, and nothing interrupted his prayer but sermons; these were followed by tears, and prayers by tears again; and his speech was a continuation of his speech; or, to speak more properly, he was assiduously occupied in his discourse with the contemplation of divine things. For he had so mortified his body together with its pleasures, and by temperance had rendered it a slave obedient to its mistress, the reason, that it had no more sense of pleasure than if it were dead. And when, having been previously tamed by fasting and abstinence, it would languish, immobile, toward pursuing what is unseemly, it yet retained strength for the fulfillment of those things which contribute to the salvation of souls. What of the fact that not even the nights, which often deceive men with shadows and images of dreams, interrupted his course of virtue and piety in the least? For whom they had D received sober as they approached, him they left behind vigilant as they departed, he being occupied in this: that the hand of the ruler of this darkness might not overtake him while asleep. And he partook of as much sleep as was sufficient for life, so that nothing of the natural necessity might altogether
be removed, lest his flesh suffer violent dissolution. A He warded off sleep, and banished it from his eyes, by many other things, but especially by sleeping on the ground, by hardship, and by every manner of bodily austerity. For by these things the affection of sleep is naturally accustomed to be banished. He possessed such great poverty as you hear the holy apostles possessed. Therefore, if anyone were to call him the archetype of those who renounce worldly goods, he would not miss the mark. For we have that very sweetest and blessed voice of his, which, as he was about to depart B to heaven, he left to us as a master of poverty, running thus: "There never existed for Ephrem a purse, nor staff, nor wallet. Nor did I ever possess silver, or gold, or any other property on the earth. For I heard the good King in the Gospels saying to his own disciples, *Do not possess anything on the earth* (Matt. x, 9, 10; Luc. ix, 4). Whence, I did not have affection for any such thing." Thus, therefore, being a scorner of glory and riches, and a lover of everything superior, he strove in that same course to reach as close as possible to the apostles themselves.
What, then, should I record of his submission of soul C and humility, when his every word and writing loudly proclaim that this virtue was singularly cultivated by him, even while it was being pursued by him with great superabundance? For when indeed would his foot stumble upon the stone of arrogance and elation—he who invited tears with tears, and ate ashes as it were bread, the roughness of his diet and lack of savor, and mixed his drink with weeping, as the scriptures say (Ps. cii, 10),—so that he would strike his soul’s foot against the stone of pride or conceit? Or he who, shunning all human glory, and—while he still walked in this life—feeling D vexed if anyone praised him, and changing to another color, and looking down to the earth, would be bathed in a fine sweat, and mastered by a terrible speechlessness, as if shame were making his tongue idle?
But as he was departing to the blessed and unending life, he forbade this very thing again with a strenuous injunction, saying: "Do not sing a song over Ephrem, do not offer an encomium, do not bury me in costly clothing, do not prepare a private tomb for my body; for I have an agreement with God to lodge with the strangers. *I am a sojourner and a stranger, as all my fathers were* (Ps. xxxviii, 13 [LXX])." You have, therefore, in abundance the clear proofs of this virtue, just as also of the others. For the rule and law of truth declares him to have been not only a practitioner of almsgiving and compassion, but also a teacher. For with perfect poverty, having nothing to bestow upon the needy, he practiced almsgiving by arousing others to mercy with frequent exhortations. For his word was in truth, even apart from his appearance, a God-forged key, distributing to the poor the treasures of the rich.
A His angelic aspect was sufficient of itself, even without any speech, to move those who looked upon him—even the rustic and inhumane—to commiseration; so great was the simplicity, the gentleness, and the probity observed in him. Nor was there anyone so shameless B to be found who, upon looking at him, would not be suffused with a certain blush and bashfulness, and who would not become better and more modest than he had been.
And although so many perfections existed in this man, let no one therefore suppose that he lacked a complete knowledge of ecclesiastical matters. For someone might ask: "What leisure could he have had to be divided amongst so many pursuits of virtue?" Indeed, he was not lightly imbued with the knowledge of divine things. C For he did not attain it only so far as to be able to instruct others by speaking, but he fully mastered both the institutions of piety and religion and the things that are opposed to them—the former to instruct the people, the latter to refute the heretics. For he was borne against those beasts hostile to piety with a righteous zeal. Indeed, through a certain sermon, which has reached us more by report than by writings, from which it could easily be understood that he was most studious of the truth, he denounced Apollinarius as light-minded—nay, as demented and insane—for in introducing novelties and eructating many impious things from his belly that were contrary to Holy Scripture, and in composing all this in two books, he spoke very insipidly and rashly. These very books D he had entrusted for safekeeping to a certain woman, whom he was said to have held in great favor. When this became well known to Ephrem, he feigned that he was of the same opinion, approached the woman who was guarding these profane books, introduced himself, revealed who he was and what favorable things he brought from the desert, and perhaps adding other things of that nature. Finally, he requested that she show him the teacher’s writings for the sake of public utility, so that he might more conveniently oppose us—calling us, as he pretended, heretics. The woman, caught by these words and being deceived into thinking he was one of those who supported the party of Apollinarius, provided the books, asking only that they be returned to her quickly. But this great Jacob, supplanting the demented Esau and seizing those wicked birthrights, prudently suppressed them; for, smearing them all with fish-glue, he joined leaf to leaf in such a way that, since one part could not be clearly separated from the other due to the firm connection, the individual books appeared to be reduced into one single tablet. And thus he returned them to the woman from whom he had received them on loan; and she, as a woman and being ignorant of such clever devices, when she saw the external form of them kept safe, neglected to diligently inspect what was within.
Days had not long passed, however, when the holy elder reported to certain of the orthodox that they should summon Apollinarius so that they might confer with him. Being summoned to judgment, and relying upon those impious books
he declined to speak, as he was worn out by old age, but requested that his own books be brought forward, and that he might answer and argue through them. When, therefore, his fellow-initiates brought the books, greatly boasting over them, he—that judge of wickedness, who had grown old in evil days—took one of the books and attempted to open it. But because it would not yield, being pressed by the glue, he made an attempt at its middle; yet it was found to be glued together in the same way. Since, therefore, he failed with the first, he proceeded to the second, and when he saw that it, too, was entirely one piece and completely unyielding, his face was transformed with shame, his mind was utterly bewildered by the impasse; and as he departed from the assembly, the wretched man, unable to bear the insult, was seized by despondency and sickness, and finally approached death.
Such also was our great father and teacher Ephrem in his zeal for piety; in other matters showing himself gentle and mild when there was no need for conflict, but in others stern and severe when the danger concerning the faith was greatest, managing all things wisely as the occasion required. For this zeal according to God is not less to be commended than his many fasts, tears, and ceaseless prayers; or rather, it is even superior to them, inasmuch as those things limit their benefit only to the one who performs them, while this zeal extends to the common good. B For just as the true prowess of an exceptional hunter is shown when he pursues warlike beasts, and the virtue of a good helmsman reveals itself in contrary winds, and that of a wise doctor in more severe maladies, and that of a brave soldier in the heavy and opposing battle-line, so too do great and difficult dangers show the man who is zealous for piety, when he rescues both himself and others from snares and perils. There is no kind of virtue cultivated by the ancients in which he did not also excel. You might liken the soul of this man to a fountain gushing forth with all manner of streams, adorned with benefit, sweetness, and delight, or to a meadow blooming with various fragrant flowers, or to an earthly heaven variegated with diverse lights, or to a paradise—such as you hear the one in Eden was, decorated with an C innumerable abundance of fruit-bearing trees (yet so that no access at all was given to the wicked serpent, the author of our common exile)—or anything else beautiful and pleasant with which nature has graced many and various good things; consider the blessed soul of the great Ephrem to be such, adorned from all directions with many forms of virtue. For that man, worthy of all admiration, made it his meditation throughout his entire life to possess virtue in its totality, and he strove to embrace all excellences alone.
For, like a priest, he imitated the God-spoken offering of Abel, who is reckoned first among the righteous; he did not offer sacrifices from flocks of sheep, nor fat to the Lord, but an unbloody sacrifice, the rational service, D of a pure life.
A He rivaled him just so far as not to be slain by the wicked murderer, but by escaping the snares of the man-hating demon, he arrived—like him—at a life that has no end, having shown himself superior to the treachery. He also emulated the hope of Enoch, for he did not merely call upon the name of the Lord God himself, but he also instructed others to join in calling upon it. Enoch did not seek the translation that takes one from the earth to Paradise, but rather the transition from material obsession to the spirit. Noah is like him, not in the small-scale preservation of the race in a wooden ark, but in securing his own soul on every side, so that he might pass through the tempest of life unharmed, and not suffer the loss of the cargo of virtue. B He was a follower of Abraham in many other things as well—in faith, in gentleness, and in his love for God—but most especially in his flight from the world; just as that man exchanged his own land and kindred for a friend, so too did this our Ephrem flee the world, and in his own body he expressed the sacrifice of the Only-Begotten, consecrating himself to God and mortifying his members which are upon the earth. He proved to be an imitator of Isaac, on account of the death which he was prepared to undergo with a ready and tranquil mind, though not at the hands of a father. Nay, even daily, like the Apostle, he harvested fruit in the body, so far as his intention was concerned; but in the spirit he lived for God, because of the pure sacrifice of his body, as it were, in the ram. He was a follower of Jacob, by supplanting the profane Esau—that is, the parent of heresies—and by receiving the birthright, namely, the upright dogmas of the Church; and in his beholding, not a ladder fixed from earth to heaven, but a pillar of fire reaching to the heavens, more subtly manifesting the depth of the mystery. Furthermore, even in the future, when he was about to depart from the body, he distributed blessings to his disciples as Jacob did to his sons; whoever diligently delves into these will think that they are those of the great Jacob himself. He followed Joseph, most of all in the purity and chastity of the body, but even more so in the distribution of the Word, just as that man distributed the wheat. He proved himself most similar to Moses in all or the majority of things: for he too fled the sorcerer Pharaoh, and dwelt in the wilderness, and saw God so far as is possible through contemplation; and he performed wondrous deeds, and presented himself to the people as a leader and teacher. He plundered the Egyptians, carrying off their wealth—the books of the heretics—over which he himself triumphed. He divided the salty and unpotable sea of infidelity, and led the faithful people, that orthodox system, safely through. He sank the Pharaohites, those godless offspring of the heretics. He routed Amalek (if you wish to call one of the heretics by this name); he received the law of orthodoxy from God and imparted it to us all. He beheld on the mountain the pattern of the tabernacle, not that of Moses, but of the fearful judgment and state that is to come. He perfected the priests, establishing laws concerning the priesthood. He brought forth water from the rock, causing stony hearts to shed tears
A With heavenly bread, just like him, he fed the people abundantly, proposing to us words of charity by which souls are most effectively strengthened and are awakened to partake with confidence of that divine and sacred Bread, which for our salvation came hither from the bosom of the Father. He gave them quails, showing us faithful ones how, through the remembrance of God, we may raise ourselves to heaven and contemplate the beauties that are there. And, in simple terms, if you should wish to compare this Father's noble discourses on contemplation to those of the ancients, you will find him in no way inferior.
For even as Joshua, the son of Nun, divided the Jordan, so indeed he opened the hands of the wealthy that had been tightly closed to giving, spreading them instead toward beneficence, and distributed to the people not the land of the lower promise, but that of the heavenly kingdom. B As Samuel, he was consecrated to God from infancy and heard the divine voice. As the great Elijah, he reproved the priests of shame, and not once, but often, brought down divine fire upon the rational sacrifice; and by a fiery chariot of virtues, he was carried, not into the aether, but into heaven itself. As Elisha, he obtained a double grace of the Spirit. As the prophets, he was gifted with the merit and grace of divine vision. The discourse even dares to compare this same man with him who is reported to have had no equal among those born of women: with him, I say, who was the mediator between the Law and Grace. For indeed, like that forerunner, he dwelt in the desert, and the word of God came to him as well, and acting as a herald of repentance, he taught those who came to him to confess their sins. As Paul, that vessel of election, he endured various trials and temptations, and as that apostle was the sower of faith, so he with diligence scattered the seeds of repentance. C But what need is there to compare him with the saints one by one, when the whole world is filled with his righteous deeds? Long-windedness is superfluous, for his works are sufficiently evident, and the very multitude of words seems to weaken faith, as if his virtues were not clearly declared by the things themselves, but still needed the aid of discourse. Therefore, it would be worthwhile to add to this discourse, as some most sweet condiment, the story of his demise from this mortal life, which is truly famous and resembles a miracle.
For this God-bearing man, being now about to depart to the heavens, instructed those who were then present not to bury his body in costly clothing. D And if anyone, out of greater affection for the father, had thought of or prepared such a thing, he forbade them to carry out their plan, but commanded them, upon changing their minds for the better, to give to the poor that which he had intended for the adornment of his burial. When, therefore, one of those who were present, a man of particular nobility, having prepared a garment of great price in which to commit the body of the holy old man to burial, heard his rebuke, he was grieved; and considering in his mind that it would be better, if he gave to the needy in its place the same amount of money that the garment had cost, he decided to bestow the prepared garment upon the poor. And being immediately struck by an evil spirit, he began to reap the bitterest fruits of his disobedience.
A And he tore himself before the bed of the holy man, spewing foam from his mouth. The most compassionate man of God said to the sufferer: “What, O man, have you committed, that you have cast yourself into this danger?” Roused by the command of the elder, though the evil spirit had darkened his mind, he revealed the secret intention he had conceived in himself of not obeying his commands and made his disobedience manifest. The most compassionate elder, having pity on him as he confessed, healed him by the laying on of holy hands and by prayer, delivering him from that affliction. He restored him to his former health, and addressed him thus: “Fulfil, O man, what you promised long ago.”
B Having performed such a wonder towards the end of his life, and having stirred up those present with many pious exhortations to the zeal of virtue, as his final words reveal, he breathed his last and departed happily to the tranquil harbor of the eternal kingdom, increasing the number of the blessed who had been from the beginning of the world by a holy addition, pleasing to God. For his soul settled in the heavenly tabernacles, where there are the orders of angels, where the populations of the patriarchs are, where the choirs of the prophets are, where the thrones of the apostles are, where the joy of the martyrs is, where the gladness of the pious is, where the splendor of the teachers is, where the celebrated gatherings of the firstborn are, where the pure voices of those who exult are, where those good things lie open which the angels desire to look into—into that holy place the most blessed and holy soul of our blessed and famous Father Ephrem arrived.
I believe, indeed, that as it ascended into heaven, the virtues which it had cultivated in this life went before it, and that they showed it those hidden and most beautiful things which cannot be seen by mortal eyes; and that Charity, the most excellent of all, approaching it, said thus: “Behold, beloved soul, the beauty which I have prepared for you,” and at the same time showed it the delights. And that Humility, running to meet it, spoke thus: “Look, O soul dear to God, what a place of rest I have adorned for you.” And that all the others recounted them one by one, and showed the rewards which, even then, while they were still being cultivated and practiced by it in the body, were being procured for the future. C O migration to be celebrated and worthy of imitation! O death that has no need of tears! O separation that brings about the desired union! O departure, the one departing from which has no regrets! O funeral, exempt from all pain and distress! For while we contemplate his ways, we receive consolation therefrom. For the death of other men is known to provide cause for weeping to those who are left behind, but for the saints it is made a cause of joy and celebration; because such a death is not death, but rather a departure and a passing to a better life from here.
D These eulogies, O best of Fathers and teacher of the world, our bold tongue offers to you as humble little gifts: not, indeed, according to your worth, nor as if you were in need—for what glory could a speech bestow, failing as it does in merit
A to reach the glory of the one being praised? It is rather for the benefit of the living; for the eulogies of good and superior men bring the greatest consolation and exhortation to better things for the majority. We have taken up this task of praise all the more readily, driven by various other reasons besides the fame of your life and teaching, which is celebrated throughout the whole world; chief among them is that care which you bestowed upon the man who shares your name. For he who compelled us to undertake this burden—having been captured in war by the descendants of Ishmael, and having been separated for no small time from his homeland—upon longing to return and being ignorant of the way, encountered your miraculous intervention; he was taught the path most suited for his rescue, and he truly did not miss his mark. B Indeed, having arrived at the very height of danger, expecting death, and confined by the hostility of the barbarians along the road, he merely invoked your name, saying, "Saint Ephrem, help me." And thus, he safely escaped the snares of peril, disregarded the fear of death, and having obtained an unexpected salvation, he was restored to his homeland beyond all hope, guarded by your providence. On account of this, we were emboldened to proceed to the aforementioned matters and dared to touch upon your praises with unclean lips. And if we have greatly exceeded what is fitting in our words, we shall attribute the cause of this success to you and confess our gratitude to you. But if our praises fall far short of your dignity, we will once again blame you for our failure, even if the statement seems somewhat bold. For you, wishing to shun praises, desiring to be humble in life just as you were upon your departure, hinder those who wish to praise you. C Yet, whether it be this or the former case, we have discharged our duty as best we could, and we trust that you will not turn away from us who are such fervent lovers of our fathers; but rather, as a father receives the lisping of children as dear to him, you will accept these. Do you, therefore, while standing before the divine altar and serving the Life-originating and most holy Trinity alongside the angels, remember us all, beseeching for us the forgiveness of sins and the enjoyment of the eternal kingdom, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom with the unoriginated Father and the divine and life-giving Spirit, be glory now and always, and unto the D ages of ages. Amen.