Maximus the Confessor, Various Hymns

^A in the midst of the earth, where I was placed, I dwelt, O woe! I shone with the likeness of the great God’s image. But that most wicked Serpent, creeping with fierce envy, whispering to me with ruinous counsels and ominous reports, alas, deceived me, and, having driven me out from that place of beauty, and from the gardens of the Father, wherein, alas, He had set me as a husbandman, He utterly cast me out. ^B A lamentable spectacle, indeed, for the heavenly company of souls! For my wound did not admit a physician, but the Creator, the Artificer of all, seeing me with compassionate bowels, came down to me as a stranger, invisibly taking on human birth from the unwedded Mary. Thus, indeed, He saved me, snatching me from the cruel hand of the Dragon, and snatching me from death, to which I had been condemned for the transgression of God’s command, into which I had foolishly fallen; for which cause He offered His own body to bitter death. He crushed the head of its leader in the waters of the Jordan, invisibly purifying the inner deformity of our sins. But the Serpent, again moving his tail impudently, perturbs my mind, shaking itself with motions that carry me into the abyss, striving to lead me away from the straight paths of my journey. He also impurely goads the petulance of untamed horses, carrying [me] hither and thither. Attempting to direct [my] insane desires toward deformity, and ungoverned passions toward what is shameful, he strives to cast down the weak horseman who rules them with reins. But he kindles a great fire from fiery darts, which the spiteful one makes to shine against me, salting [me] within, ^C and the fire clings to me. But You, O Savior of the people, offer me Your hand, rooting out completely the snares of the worst Belial. You who once, holding back the river, quickly caused it to turn back, and in flowing backward, you fulfilled a wondrous work that brought ruin to the foreigners. You did divide the bed of the sea, full of waves, and led Your people Israel through it with dry feet. You said, and all things stood present at Your word. You checked the course of the flaming chariot of the swift Giant, the greatest light-bearer. You turned the sevenfold-kindled fire of the three children’s furnace into an abundant dew. You had mercy on the lost; You loosed the knot of the harlot’s ill-starred loves, who was weeping bitterly. You also restrained the perpetual flux of the woman with the issue of blood by the touch of Your hem. You raised from the dead ^D even the daughter of Jairus, restoring her spirit to her again. You cleansed the lepers, and gave sight to the blind, and cast out the demon from the Sidonian maid. Another, having obtained the resolution of his limbs, carried his bed; You raise up the woman who was bowed down, and You cast out demons. And by the touch of Your hand, You stilled the burning fever of Peter’s mother-in-law. You did many other things, which cannot be numbered. What a miracle, that You extinguish the burning heat of the flame, dripping the dew from an eternal fountain upon my coals? Grant this to me, O Savior, throughout all my life, that I may be mindful of Your infinite goodness, and of the Father, and of Your Spirit.

II. Supplicatory hymn to Christ, in the form of a confession.

^A the lack of prudence and of my mind, And the servile necessity; And the grievous toil, Which I, wretched, have endured, From childhood having imprisoned Myself in terrible chains Of a perverse life, And of wandering loves.

I thought I was the best Builder of noble houses, And of high-stretching towers. The foundation, which I was laying, Was not a firm rock Setting a support, But sand, which easily The winds scatter, And fountain-streams Carry off with a roar, And the rain falling upon it Makes it liquid. Thence the houses fall, The ruins and the roof Are seen in a pitiable state. What, then, were these That I, evil-minded, was building For the ruin of my soul? The desire of my heart was lustful, Always resting in sins. It led away, carrying an alien Outer color, To those who did not know the hidden Sore; it fashioned a mind Covering within A shameful appearance, Which you might call hypocrisy, Abominable to all. And I had for housemates Those to whom empty glory Was a care, and pride, And he who of old quickly Hurled the dark Lucifer From heaven by the just judgment of God. And to them were children, Numberless, and daughters, Giving obedient Ear to the counsels of evils. Then the rain coming, And the blowing winds, And the streams rushing in Shook them from the foundations, An unspeakable torrent, And the collapse was a strange sight to me, And for my soul a slip,

^A It brought upon itself such Calamity, and the formidable Wrath of God, And the enmity of mortals. But now I have known the rock On which a foundation must be laid, So that the house may be preserved; And I have those stones Which are truly precious, Adorned beautifully With gold and silver, Wealth for the pious, And the most excellent happiness. For what is better than august Wisdom? For outside of it It is not given to mortals to see God.

Again, what was higher Than humility For those who see better? Which brings the true height To those possessing it. And with a pure conscience Under the eyes of God, Who looks into the heart, What will ever be better, And making man Equal to the angels? And the human mind Experiences a divine flight Being purified from above, With far-shining breaths, So as to contemplate the greatest Power, and the root Self-originate, and the breathing, The life-giving spirit, And to penetrate the depths Of the holy mysteries, As much as by providence The world is beautifully brought about, And as much as throughout the ages It will always be. Who could speak of anything more blessed? I, O Savior, am hastening To raise up such Most excellent structures, By Your power giving, Upon the firm rock, Of the corner-stone, Which You Yourself are. Do You Yourself grant me, With Your grace helping, To complete this greatest And salutary work for me. Neither violent rain, Nor fountain-torrents, Neither rushing streams nor winds Will be able to shake my house then Even a little, Built upon the foundation Of You, O Savior, the unshaken. Do You give me Your hand, And become a co-worker For me, and bring to completion The whole; so that I may hymn You,

^A the Bestower of these excellent things, And the Accomplisher of those things Which save mortals. For without You, O Almighty One, Neither work, nor counsel, Nor thought, nor breath, Nothing of all things Which have an excellent lot, Shall ever attain its end. You gave me flesh and soul, Creating them; You raised me when I was falling And directed me toward heaven, Lifting me up with Your own body. You have awakened me when I was dying Through Your own gifts And infinite mercy, Savior; And You count me worthy To be a partaker Of Your ineffable flesh. You will also save me in the end, Provided You do not find ^B my pilgrimage Utterly without fruit, Provided I do not carry the heavy weight of lead That bends me down, And leads me into hell And inextinguishable fire; If You do not find me as unclean wood And brushwood, the fuel of fire. And freely, in those dwellings, You will establish me, Living eternally, A singer of Your glory, In the communion of all souls, Both holy and righteous.

III.

Suppliant Hymn to the Holy Trinity

Remember me, O Beginningless, ^B Unutterable Root, And O stranger Breath of Both, Equal to the Offspring and the Beginning; O Three-Sunned Form, ^C When You judge me, who am unworthy, ^D Do You, Savior, save Your servant From every storm, And keep me from eternal fire; Break instantly the foul chain Of my evil deeds. And when, by this path, I have passed through unharmed and safe, Write me in Your book of life; And in the everlasting ages, Grant me to celebrate and sing Of Your venerable power.

ANNO DOMINI DCXLVIII.

THALASSIUS ABBAS. NOTITIA.

Thalassius was a presbyter and abbot of a certain monastery in Libya, whom Saint Maximus the Confessor held in very high regard. Furthermore, since the death of this holy Confessor is usually assigned to the year 662, it follows that our Thalassius flourished before this year. Therefore, it is not unreasonable that he can be conveniently referred to the year 640 with Cocceius, or to the year 648 with our Galland. The four Centuries are commonly attributed to this Thalassius, in which he treats of charity, continence, and the government of the mind. We present them here, though more carefully corrected. This was the final small work that Galland’s labors carried. Ducaeus first edited the Greek; Joannes Oecolampadius had translated and edited it into Latin at Augsburg in the year 1520, from which it was derived into other Libraries of the Fathers. See also Fabricius. All the Centuries are acrostic. Thus, in the fourth Century, we corrected the number 13, for which the number 89 was read from another version. In number 55 also, it must be read so that the acrostic is preserved. You have a fragment of an epistle of S. Maximus to Thalassius among the prolegomena to S. Maximus.