Life of Macrina 6–9

When, then, I had completed most of the journey and was a day's journey away, a vision that appeared to me in a dream made my hopes of the future fearful. For I seemed to be carrying relics of martyrs in my hand, and a radiance came from them, such as comes from a clean mirror when it is set facing the sun, so that my eyes were dazzled by the flashing of the brilliance. When such a vision had come to me three times in the same night, I could not clearly interpret the riddle of the dream; but I foresaw some grief for my soul, and watched to judge the vision by its outcome. When I came near the remote place where she spent her life, achieving the angelic and heavenly life, I asked one of the people there first about my brother, whether he was present. When he told us that he had set out and that this was the fourth day, I understood what had happened, that his departure to meet us had been by another road; then I asked also about the Great One. When he said she had fallen into some illness, I held on more eagerly, completing the rest of the journey in haste. For a certain grief and fear, as a messenger of what was to come, crept in and troubled me. And when I had come to the place itself, and the report had announced my presence beforehand to the brotherhood, the whole company of the men poured out from the men's quarters to meet us; for it is their custom to honour those dear to them by going out to meet them. The choir of virginity among the women waited in good order at the church for our entry. When the prayer and the blessing were over, and the women, after bowing their heads for the blessing, withdrew becomingly to their own quarters, and none of them remained with us, I guessed what was the case, that the superior was not among them; and with one man leading the way to the house in which the Great One was, and opening the door, I came within that holy dwelling. She was already gripped severely by the illness; she was resting not on a bed or a mattress, but on the ground, on a plank spread with sackcloth, with another plank supporting her head, made so as to support the sinews of the neck in a slanting position, [serving] instead of a pillow, and comfortably holding up the neck on itself.

When she saw me near the door she raised herself on her elbow; she was not able to run to me, her strength being already undone by the fever; but fixing her hands on the floor and stretching herself out of her pallet as far as she could, she paid the honour of meeting me. I ran to her and, putting my hands under her face bent to the ground, I raised her again and restored her to her usual reclining position. Stretching out her hand to God she said, "This grace too you have fulfilled for me, O God, and you have not deprived me of my desire, since you moved your servant to visit your handmaid." And so as to bring no despondency on my soul, she calmed her groaning and forced herself somehow to hide the distress of her breathing, and in every way adapted herself to greater cheerfulness, both beginning pleasant conversation herself and giving us occasions for it by her questions. When in the course of the conversation the memory of the great Basil fell in, my soul gave way and my face fell in dejection. But she was so far from sharing our grief that, making the memory of the saint an occasion of loftier philosophy, she went through such discourses, explaining human nature by natural reasoning, uncovering in her discourse the divine economy hidden in sad events, and going through what concerns the [future] life as if inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that my soul seemed almost to be outside human nature, raised up with what was said and [brought] within the heavenly sanctuaries by the guidance of her discourse. And as we hear in the history of Job that the man, wasting away with discharges over his whole body from the rotting of his wounds on every side, did not incline his thoughts to what pained his sense, but had the pain in his body while his [mind] was not dulled in its own activity nor cut short its discourse as it entered on loftier things, so I saw in that Great One too: while the fever parched all her strength and drove her toward death, she refreshed her body as with dew [and kept] her mind [free] in the contemplation of lofty things, in no way harmed by so great an illness. And if the account were not to stretch to endless length, I would have related everything in order: how she was lifted up by her discourse, philosophizing to us about the soul, and going through the cause of life in the flesh, and why man exists, and how he is mortal, and whence death comes, and what is the release from it back to life. In all these she went through everything clearly and in sequence, as if inspired by the power of the Holy Spirit, her discourse flowing with all ease as from a spring, carried down unhindered.

When the discourse was finished, she said, "It is time, brother, for you, worn out by the great toil of the journey, to rest your body a little." For me it was a great and true refreshment to look at her and to listen to her great words; but since this was welcome and dear to her, so that I might seem to obey my teacher in everything, I found a pleasant lodging prepared in one of the neighbouring gardens and rested under the shade of the climbing vines. But it was not possible to have any sense of the delights, since my soul within was gripped by the expectation of sad things. For the vision of the dreams seemed to me to uncover its riddle through what appeared. For truly the sight before me was relics of a holy martyr, dead to sin and shining with the indwelling grace of the Spirit. And I related this to one of those who had heard my dream before. While we were naturally rather dejected in expectation of sorrows, she, guessing somehow the thought in us, sent us a message of more cheerful things, bidding us take courage and have better hopes for her; for she perceived a turn for the better. This was not said to deceive, but the word was true in very truth, even if at the time we did not understand it. For as a runner who has passed his rival and is already near the end of the stadium, drawing near the prize and seeing the crown of victory, exults in himself as if he had already obtained what was set before him, and announces the victory to the more friendly of the spectators, so from such a disposition she too showed us that she hoped for better things for herself, already looking to the prize of the upward call, and all but saying the apostle's word: "There is laid up for me henceforth the crown of righteousness, which the righteous judge will give me, since I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."

We, then, made cheerful by the message of good things, were enjoying what was set before us. These were varied, and the preparation was full of every delight, the Great One's care descending even to these things. When we were again in her presence (for she did not let us spend the leisure hour by ourselves), she took up the memory of what she had lived through from her youth and went through it all in order, as in a written history: whatever she held in memory of our parents' life, both before my birth and afterwards. The aim of her account was thanksgiving to God. For she showed that our parents' life was not so much brilliant and admired by those of that time because of wealth, as increased by divine love for mankind. Our father's parents had had their property confiscated for their confession of Christ; our maternal grandfather had been killed by the emperor's anger, and all his possessions had passed to other masters. Nevertheless their life was increased so much through faith that no one in those times was named above them. Again, when their property was divided into nine parts according to the number of the children, each one's portion was so multiplied by blessing that each of the children's life was beyond the good fortune of the parents. As for herself, of what was assigned to her in the equal division with her brothers and sisters, nothing was left, but all was managed by the hands of the priest according to the divine commandment. And her life by God's provision was such that her hands never ceased working for the commandment, nor did she ever look to a human being, nor did the means for a seemly manner of life come to her through any human benefaction; but she neither turned away those who asked nor sought out those who gave, God secretly increasing by his blessings the small means from her works, like seeds, into a plentiful crop.

When I went through my own troubles, in which I had been, first when the emperor Valens was persecuting for the faith, and afterwards when the confusion in the churches called us to struggles and labours, the Great One said: "Will you not stop being ungrateful for the divine goods? Will you not cure the thanklessness of your soul? Will you not compare your lot with that of your parents? Yet in this world we boast most of this, of being of good birth and seeming to spring from noble parents. Our father," she said, "was thought great in learning in those times, but his fame went no further than the local law courts. Afterwards, though he led the rest in the art of rhetoric, his reputation did not go beyond Pontus; but he was content with being known in his own country. But you," she said, "are famous in cities and peoples and nations; churches send for you and call you to help and to set things right; and do you not see the grace? Do you not recognize the cause of such great goods, that your parents' prayers lift you to the height, though you have no, or little, preparation for it of your own?" While she went through these things, I longed for the measure of the day to be stretched out longer, so that she might not stop sweetening our hearing. But the voice of the singers was calling to the thanksgiving at the lamp-lighting, and having sent me to the church, the Great One withdrew again to God in prayer.

And so the night passed. When day came, it was evident to me from what I saw that the present day was the last limit of her life in the flesh, since the fever had consumed all the strength that lay in her nature. But she, looking to the weakness of our mind, contrived to lead us away from the gloomier expectation, again dispelling the grief of our soul with those beautiful words, with breath now thin and laboured. At this point above all my soul was variously affected by what it saw: nature was weighed down to sadness, as was to be expected, because I no longer expected to hear such a voice again, but hoped that very soon the common boast of the family would depart from human life; while my soul, as if inspired by what it saw, supposed that she had truly gone beyond common nature. For that even in her last breaths she felt nothing strange at the expectation of her departure, nor was afraid of separation from life, but with lofty mind philosophized to her last breath on what she had decided about this life from the beginning, seemed to me no longer to belong to human things; but as if an angel had taken on human form by some economy, [an angel] who, having no kinship or affinity with the life in the flesh, [naturally] keeps the mind in freedom from passion, the flesh not dragging the mind down to its own passions. [That is why it seemed to me] that she made manifest to those present that divine and pure love of the invisible bridegroom, which she had kept hidden and nourished in the secret places of her soul, and made public the disposition of her heart, hastening to the one she longed for, so that she might be with him quickly, released from the bonds [of the body]. For truly her course was toward virtue, no other of the pleasures of life turning her eye to itself.

Most of the day had already passed, and the sun was declining toward its setting. But her eagerness did not slacken; rather, the nearer she drew to her departure, as one who saw the bridegroom's beauty the more, [the more] intensely she hastened toward the one she longed for, speaking no longer to us who were present, but to him himself, at whom she gazed steadily with her eyes. For her pallet had been turned toward the east; and ceasing to converse with us, she spoke for the rest of the time with God in prayer, supplicating with her hands and murmuring in a faint voice, so that we could just hear what was said. And the prayer was such that one could not doubt that it was made to God and heard by him:

"You, Lord, have freed us from the fear of death. You have made the end of life here the beginning of true life for us. You give rest to our bodies in sleep for a season, and wake them again at the last trumpet. You give our earth, which you shaped with your hands, as a deposit to the earth; [and again] you take back what you gave, transforming what is mortal and unshapely in us with incorruption and grace. You redeemed us from the curse and from sin, having become both for our sake. You crushed the heads of the dragon, who [had seized] man in his jaws through the gulf of disobedience. You opened for us the way to resurrection, having shattered the gates of Hades and destroyed the one who has the power of death. You gave to those who fear you a sign, the figure of your holy cross, for the destruction of the adversary and for the safety of our life.

"O eternal God, upon whom I was cast from my mother's womb, whom my soul has loved with all its strength, to whom I dedicated both my flesh and my soul from my youth until now: set beside me a shining angel to lead me by the hand to the place of refreshment, where is the water of rest, in the bosom of the holy fathers. You who cut through the flaming sword and restored to paradise the man who was crucified with you and fell before your mercies, remember me too in your kingdom; for I too was crucified with you, having nailed my flesh with fear of you and having been afraid of your judgments. Let not the fearful gulf separate me from your chosen ones. Let not the envious one stand in my way, nor let my sin be found before your eyes, if, falling through the weakness of our nature, I have sinned in word or deed or thought. You who have power on earth to forgive sins, forgive me, so that I may be refreshed and be found before you, when I put off my body, without stain in the form of my soul; but may my soul be received, blameless and spotless, into your hands, as incense before you."

And as she said this she made the seal of the cross on her eyes and her mouth and her heart. And little by little, her tongue parched by the fever, she no longer articulated her words, and her voice gave way; and only by the parting of her lips [and] the movement of her hands did we know that she was in prayer. Meanwhile evening came on and a light was brought in; she opened the circle of her eyes all at once and, looking at the gleam, made it clear that she was eager to say the thanksgiving at the lamp-lighting. When her voice failed, she fulfilled her purpose with her heart and the movement of her hands, and her lips moved in accord with the impulse within. When she had completed the thanksgiving and her hand, brought to her face to make the seal, signified the end of the prayer, she drew a great deep breath and ended her life together with her prayer.

When she was at last without breath and motionless, I remembered the instructions she had given at our very first meeting, saying that she wished my hands to be laid on her eyes and the customary care to be given to the body through me; and I brought my hand, numbed by grief, to her holy face, only so as not to seem to neglect the instruction. For the eyes needed no one to close them, being closed becomingly with the eyelids as happens in natural sleep; [the lips were fittingly closed,] the hands laid becomingly on the breast; and the whole position of the body, arranged of itself in seemliness, needed no hand of those who lay out the dead. My soul was paralysed in two ways: by what I saw, and by my hearing ringing with the mournful wailing of the virgins. For until then they had endured in quiet, shutting the grief up in their soul and stifling the impulse to wail [for fear] of her rebuke even when her face was already silent, lest, if any cry should break from them against her instruction, their teacher should be grieved at what happened. But when the grief could no longer be held in check by quiet, the mourning smouldering like a fire within their souls, a bitter and uncontrollable cry suddenly broke out, so that my reason no longer stayed in its settled state, but, as if a torrent had flooded over it, I was carried away under the water by the grief, and neglecting what was at hand, I gave myself wholly to lamentation. And the occasion of the virgins' mourning seemed to me somehow just and reasonable. For they were not lamenting the loss of some customary companionship or care according to the flesh, or anything else of the kind at which people are vexed in calamities; but as if cut off from their hope in God and the salvation of their souls, so they cried out, and said these things in their laments: "The lamp of our eyes has been put out; the light of the guidance of our souls has gone away; the safety of our life has been undone; the seal of incorruption has been taken away; the bond of self-control has been broken; the support of the weak has been shattered; the care of the sick has been removed. With you even the night was day for us, lit by your pure life; but now even the day will be turned to gloom." Harder than the others those burned with grief who called her mother and nurse. These were the ones whom, in the time of the famine, she had taken up when they had been cast out along the roads, and nursed and brought up and led by the hand to the pure and incorrupt life.

When I had somehow gathered my soul as from a depth, I gazed at that holy head, and as if rebuked for the disorder of those raising an uproar with their lament, I cried out to the virgins in a loud voice: "Look at her, and remember her instructions, by which you were taught by her order and seemliness in everything. This divine soul laid down for us one time for tears, bidding us do it at the time of prayer; and this we may do now, by changing the wailing of laments into psalmody in harmony with our grief." I said this in a louder voice, so as to sound above the noise of the laments. Then I asked them to withdraw a little to the house nearby, and that some of them should remain, whose service she had gladly accepted in her life.

Among these was a woman of the well-born, who in her youth had been admired for wealth and family and bodily beauty and every other distinction, and had been married to one of those of higher rank, and having lived with him a short time and been separated from the union while still young in body, she had made the great Macrina the guardian and tutor of her widowhood, and spent much of her time with the virgins, [learning] the life of virtue from her. [Her name was Vetiana,] and her father was one of those who belonged to the council of the consuls. I said to her that now at least it would not be blameworthy to put brighter adornment on the body and to adorn that pure and spotless flesh with shining linens. She said that we must learn what the holy one had judged right about these things; for it would not be pious for anything at all to be done by us contrary to what pleased her; and surely what is dear and pleasing to God was pleasing to her too. And there was one set over the choir of virgins in the rank of the diaconate, Lampadia by name, who said she knew exactly what had been decided by her about her burial. When I asked her about these things (for she happened to have been present at the decision), she said with tears: "The holy one's adornment was the pure life she strove for; this is both the ornament of her life and the shroud of her death. Whatever looks to adorning the body she neither accepted in the time of her life nor stored up for the present use; so that even if we wish there will be nothing more, since there is no provision for this very thing." "And can nothing be found among what is stored up," I said, "that could adorn the funeral procession?" "Stored up?" she said. "You have in your hands all that was laid by. See the cloak, see the covering of her head, the worn shoes of her feet; this is the wealth, this the property. Nothing besides what is visible is stored in hidden places, secured in chests or chambers. She knew one storehouse for her own wealth, the heavenly treasure; having stored everything there, she left nothing on earth." "What, then," I said to her, "if I brought one of the things I had prepared for my own burial, would anything happen that she would not wish?" She said she did not think this was against her mind; for while living too she would have accepted such honour from you on both counts, because of the priesthood, which was always honoured by her, and because of the kinship of nature; for she did not think what belonged to her brother foreign to herself. "For this reason she [ordered] that her body be adorned with your hands."

When this had been decided and that holy body had to be wrapped in the linens, we divided the task, and each of us attended to something different about her. I bade one of my people bring the garment. [Vetiana], adorning that holy head with her own hands, when she put her hand to the neck, looked at me and said, "See what an ornament hangs about the holy one's neck." And as she said this she undid the fastening at the back, stretched out her hand, and shows us a figure of the cross made of iron and a ring of the same material, both of which, hung on a thin cord, were always on her heart. And I said, "Let the possession be shared. You keep the protective cross; the inheritance of the ring will suffice me." For on its seal too the cross [was engraved]. [Looking at it,] the woman said to me again: "The choice of this possession was not made without forethought. For the ring is hollow at the bezel, and in it [a piece] of the wood of life is hidden; and so the seal above shows by its own figure what lies beneath."

When it was time to cover the pure body with the garment, and the great one's command made this service necessary for me, the woman who was present at the work and helped in it, and who had shared with us that great inheritance, said, "Do not pass by without recording the greatness of the wonders achieved by this holy one." "What is this?" I said. She, uncovering a part of the breast, said, "Do you see this fine and faint mark under the skin? It resembles a mark made by a fine needle." And at the same time she brought the lamp nearer the place she was showing me. "What wonder, then," I said, "if the body has been marked with a faint mark in this part?" "This too," she said, "has been left on the body as a memorial of God's great help. For once a painful affliction grew in this part, and there was danger that the tumour would have to be cut out, or that the evil would altogether and certainly become incurable if it [spread] to the parts near the heart. Her mother," she said, "begged and entreated her much to accept the doctor's care, since this art too was given by God for salvation; but she, judging it worse than the affliction to uncover any part of her body to the eyes of strangers, when evening came, after she had performed for her mother the usual service with her hands, went inside the sanctuary and fell down all night before the God of healings; and pouring on the earth the water that flowed from her eyes, she used the mud made from her tears as a remedy for the affliction. When her mother was despondent and again urged her to yield to the doctor, she said it would be enough for the cure of the evil if her mother would make the holy seal on the place with her own hand. When her mother put her hand inside her bosom to seal the part with the cross, the seal worked, and the affliction was gone. But this small mark," she said, "appeared then instead of the dreadful sore and remained to the end, so that, I think, it might be a memorial of the divine visitation, an occasion and subject of continual thanksgiving to God."

When our task was finished and the body had been adorned from what was at hand, the deaconess said again that it was not fitting for her to be seen by the eyes of the virgins dressed as a bride. "But I have kept," she said, "a dark cloak of your mother's, which I think it well to put over her, so that this holy beauty may not be made bright by the adornment of clothing brought in from outside." Her opinion prevailed, and the cloak was put on. She shone even in the dark garment, the divine power, I think, adding this grace too to the body, so that, exactly as in the vision of my dream, certain rays seemed to shine out from her beauty.