Encomium on Ephraim 839–849

the treasuries of the rich and supplying those of moderate means with what they needed; and his angelic appearance, merely seen, was enough to move even the very pitiless to sympathy and compassion, blended as it was with simplicity, gentleness, and great nobility. And who was so given to shamelessness that, on looking at him, he did not blush and become somehow more orderly than his usual self? Perhaps, then, someone hearing of so great a multitude of achievements will suppose that this divine man did not go deep into the doctrines of the church. For what leisure, I might say, did such a man have, divided among so many virtues? But his knowledge of the divine doctrines was not superficial. For he did not pursue it only so far as to speak and exhort others; he was well trained in both: the doctrines of the church themselves and the arguments that try to contradict them, the former as far as he learned them by practice, the latter for the refutation of the heretics. For zeal moved him against the wild beasts of the church. Hence an unwritten story has reached us too, showing us his zeal for the truth, and it runs thus. The lightheaded, or rather mindless and irrational, Apollinaris, having made many innovations and belched them up from his belly, improvised an unjust writing against piety, composing it in two books. He entrusted them for safekeeping to a certain woman who, as the rumor went, served his pleasures. When the work became known to the great man, the wise Ephrem, pretending to share Apollinaris's opinion, came to the woman who was keeping the profane books, made himself known to her, brought her blessings as if from the desert, and perhaps contrived other things too. Then he begged her to give him the teacher's writings for his own benefit, as he said, so that he might easily oppose the heretics (meaning us, of course). She, not enlightened in mind, and deceived into thinking that he too was of Apollinaris's faction, gave him the books, asking that they be returned quickly. But this great Jacob, supplanting the profane Esau and taking the wicked birthright of his ideas, wisely withdrew. Pressing leaf to leaf and smearing the whole with fish glue, he made the whole of the book into a single block, so that the strong bond did not allow one part to be pulled away from another. Having done this to the two books, he returned them to the lender; and she, being a woman and unversed in learned ideas, saw that their outside was intact and did not inquire closely into the inside. Not many days later the divine old man suggested to some of the orthodox that they invite the impious Apollinaris to a debate. He accepted the challenge, and in his godless books

trusting, he came on the appointed day; and, declining to debate in person on the grounds that he was worn out by old age, he asked that his own books be brought out, so that he might answer and argue through them. So when his fellow initiates brought the books, priding themselves greatly on them, that man grown old in evil days, that judge of injustice, took them and tried to open one of the books. But since it would not give way, pressed together by the glue, he made an attempt at its middle; but it was likewise closed. When he failed with the first, he went on to the second; and seeing that it too was entirely undivided and wholly unyielding, his face changed with shame and his soul was struck with perplexity; and leaving the assembly, the deranged man came to despondency and illness and at last to death, unable to bear the humiliation. Such was our great father and teacher Ephrem in his zeal for true religion: to some he showed his mildness and gentleness, when there was no need for war; to others his sternness and severity, especially when the faith was in danger; handling everything wisely and as the occasion required. For this too, zeal according to God, I mean, is no less than his many fasts and tears and unceasing prayers; or rather it is even greater than they, inasmuch as they confine the benefit to the one who performs them alone, while zeal extends to the common good. For true reason tests the good hunter against fighting beasts, the good helmsman against winds blowing against the ship, the wise physician against diseases hard to cure, the noble soldier against a heavy opposing battle line, and the earnest zealot for true religion at the height of dangers and difficulty, by how he rescues himself and others from the plot. One cannot find any form of virtue cultivated of old by anyone that was not also achieved in him. One may liken his soul to a spring gushing with all kinds of streams, adorned with usefulness, sweetness and delight; or to a meadow in bloom, fragrant with varied flowers; or to an earthly heaven adorned with various lights; or to a paradise, like the one in Eden you hear of, glorious with countless fruitful trees, but closed to the most wicked serpent, the cause of our exile; or whatever else, fair and delightful, nature has honored with many and various goods: reckon such to be the blessed soul of the great Ephrem, encircled on every side with many forms of virtue. For the wonderful man made it his study all his life to acquire the whole of virtue, and strove to embrace all excellences in himself alone. Imitating as a priest the offering of Abel, the first among the righteous, which God chose, he offered to the Lord not victims from the flocks nor fat, but a bloodless sacrifice, the rational worship, wholly burned in purity

of life. He rivaled Abel so far as not to be killed by the wicked murderer, but escaped the snares of the demon who hates mankind and, like Abel, passed over to endless life, showing himself above the plot. Emulating the hope of Enoch, he not only called on the name of the Lord God, but taught others to call on it with him. Like Enoch, he practiced not the strange translation from earth to paradise, but the passage from material attachment to the spirit. Like Noah, he practiced not the small saving of the race in a wooden ark, but securing his own soul on every side, so as to pass unharmed through the surge of life and not lose the cargo of virtue. Of Abraham he became an imitator in many other things too, in faith and meekness and love toward God, but above all in flight from the world, as Abraham exchanged his own land and kindred for God's friendship; and in taking the sacrifice of the only son as the voluntary offering of his own body for God's sake, having put to death his members that are on earth. Of Isaac, in his willing and untroubled death, except that Isaac was offered by a father. For Ephrem, sacrificing himself at every moment as the Apostle did, was wholly burned in body as far as his purpose went, while in spirit he lived and lives to God through the pure offering of his body, as in the ram. Of Jacob, in supplanting the profane Esau, that is, the father of heresies, and taking the birthright, the right doctrines of the church; and in seeing, not a ladder set up from earth to heaven, but a pillar of fire reaching to heaven, which showed somehow more vividly the depth of a mystery; and further, in distributing his blessings to his disciples, as Jacob did to his sons, when he was about to depart from the body; anyone who studies them carefully will think they are those of the great Jacob himself. Of Joseph, especially in the purity and chastity of the body, but much more in the distribution of the word, as Joseph distributed grain. He was like Moses in all things or in most: for he too fled the sorcerer Pharaoh, lodged in the wilderness, saw God as far as is attainable in contemplation, worked wonders, and led a people as its teacher; he outwitted the Egyptians and carried off their wealth, capturing the books of the heretics and leading them in triumph; he split the sea, the salty and undrinkable unbelief, and brought the people through, the orthodox body; and he drowned the men of Pharaoh, the godless offspring of the heretics. And he routed Amalek (if you wish to give this name to one of the heretics); he received from God the law of orthodoxy and shared it with us all. He saw on the mountain the pattern of the tabernacle, not that of Moses' time, but that of the fearful judgment and state to come. He consecrated priests, giving laws about the priesthood. He made water spring from the rock, making stony hearts drip with tears.

He fed them with heavenly bread, like Moses, setting before all the words of love, by which above all every soul is strengthened and approaches with confidence the divine and mystical bread, which came from the bosom of the Father for our salvation. He gave quail, teaching us the faithful, who are below, to walk in heaven by remembering God and to picture the beauties there. In short, by whatever principles of contemplation you wish to compare the father's glories with those of the ancients, you will find him not at all behind. For as Joshua son of Nun split the Jordan, so he split open the hands of the rich that were closed to giving, opening them to good works, and gave the people as an inheritance the land, not of the earthly promise, but of the heavenly kingdom. Like Samuel, he was dedicated to God from infancy and heard a divine voice. Like the great Elijah, he exposed the priests of shame and brought down spiritual fire on the rational sacrifice, not once but many times; and in a fiery chariot of virtues he was carried up, a charioteer not of the air but of heaven. Like Elisha, he was enriched with a double grace of the Spirit; and like the prophets, he was often deemed worthy of divine appearances. Our speech dares to set him even beside the one who is greater among those born of women, the mediator between the law and grace. Like the forerunner, he lodged in the wilderness; the word of God came to him too; he became a herald of repentance and taught those who came to confess their sins. Like Paul, the chosen vessel, he endured all kinds of trials, and as Paul did not grow weary of sowing the seeds of faith, so he did not grow weary of sowing those of repentance. And why compare him with individuals, when his achievements fill the whole world? When the deeds are manifest, long speech is superfluous, and the length of a speech turns to the discredit of the virtues, as though they could not show themselves sufficiently by deeds but needed the help of words. But it is good to add to the speech, like a most delightful seasoning, the wonder celebrated about his death. When this God-bearing man was about to depart to heaven, he charged those present that they were not permitted to bury his body in costly clothing; and if anyone, out of love for his father, had planned or prepared anything of the kind, he was by no means to carry out his intention, but to give to the poor what had been set aside for his burial. Now one of those present, a man of distinction, had prepared costly clothing and had resolved to bury the divine old man's body in it. Hearing the charge, he was grieved, and put off giving the prepared garment to the poor, judging in his own mind that it would be holier to give its value to the needy instead. At once he was struck by an evil demon, and reaped the bitterest

sheaves of disobedience, tearing at himself before the saint's bier and foaming at the mouth. The most compassionate man of God said to the sufferer: “Rise, O man: what unreasonable thing have you done, that has thrown you into this danger?” He got up at the command, though his mind was darkened by the demon, told the thought he had hidden, and revealed his disobedience. When he had confessed, the most compassionate old man restored him to health, freeing him from his affliction by the laying on of holy hands and by prayer, and then said to him: “Man, fulfil the promise you had planned long ago.” Having worked such a wonder at the very end of his life, and having roused those with him to zeal for virtue with many exhortations, as his last discourse shows, he breathed his last into the waveless harbor of the eternal kingdom, and was well received there. Where else must one suppose his soul to have come to rest but, clearly, in the heavenly tents, where are the ranks of angels, the choirs of prophets, the thrones of apostles, the joy of martyrs, the gladness of the holy, the splendor of teachers, the festal assembly of the firstborn, and the pure sound of those who keep festival there? To those good things into which angels long to look, to that sacred place, went the most blessed and holy soul of our blessed and celebrated father. I think that at its ascent to heaven the virtues of his life went before it and showed it each of those unspeakable and unseen beauties; that love, perhaps the greatest of all the virtues, came forward and said: “See, dearest soul, what beauty I have procured for you,” and with the word pointed out the delight; and that humility ran up and said: “Look, soul beloved by God, what a place of rest I too have prepared for you”; and that one by one they all spoke and showed what rewards, having labored earlier, they had procured for it afterward. O much-praised and enviable departure! O death that needs no tears! O separation that procures the longed-for union! O passing that brings no regret to the one who passes! O funeral that brings no regret! For the very things for which we admire his ways give us our consolation. For in the case of other people, death is known as a cause of tears to those left behind; but in the case of the saints it becomes the source of gladness and festival, because such a thing is not death but rather a passing and a change to better things. These praises, best of fathers and teacher of the world, are brought to you by us with a bold tongue, as gifts below your worth: not as though you needed them (for what renown does speech confer when it walks behind the worth

of the one praised?), but rather for the benefit of the living; for the praise of good men is the greatest encouragement and incitement for the many toward better things. Many other things moved us to these words and made us bold (I pass over your manifold excellences, and the fame of your life and words throughout the whole world), but more than these your wonderful protection and the deliverance granted to your namesake, who urged us to strip for these contests too. He was carried off captive by barbarians, descendants of Ishmael, and separated from his homeland for no short time; returning home, and not knowing the safe way, he received your wonderful protection and was taught the road best suited for safety, and truly did not miss his goal. Indeed, when he came to the very height of danger and expected death, hemmed in on the road by barbarian violence, as soon as he remembered your name and said, “Saint Ephrem, help me,” he passed unharmed through the maze of dangers, despised fear, obtained salvation beyond understanding, and, guarded by your providence, was restored beyond hope to his homeland. For this reason we dared to stretch out more at length on what was said before, and dared to touch the praises with unclean lips. And if our words have reached what was due, we will inscribe you as the cause of our success and confess our thanks to you; but if the praises fall far short of your worth, then too we will blame you as the cause of our failure, bold though the word may be. For wishing to flee praises, and embracing humility after your passing as you did while you lived, you hinder those who wish to praise you. But whether this be so or the former, we discharge our debt as far as we can, and we trust that you will not turn away from us, warm lovers of our father, but will receive our words as parents receive the dear lisping of their children. And you, standing at the divine altar and ministering with the angels to the life-giving and all-holy Trinity, remember us all, asking for us forgiveness of sins and the enjoyment of the eternal kingdom, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory with the Father who is without beginning and the divine and life-giving Spirit, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.