Passion of Marian and James (complete)

The Passion of Saints Marian and James.

Whenever the most blessed martyrs of almighty God and of his Christ, hastening to the promised kingdoms of heaven, give some charge to their dearest ones with special modesty, mindful of the humility that always makes the faithful greater, the more modestly they have asked, the more effectively they have obtained. These most noble witnesses of God have left to us as well this task of proclaiming their glory—I mean Marian, one of our most beloved brothers, and James, who, as you know, were bound to me not only by the common bond of our sacred religion but also by a shared life and the affection of a household. When they were about to undertake so lofty a contest against the pressures of a raging world and the onslaughts of the Gentiles, they ordered that their battle, which they entered at the prompting of the heavenly Spirit, should come through us to the knowledge of the brotherhood—not because they wished the glory of their crown to be proclaimed on earth out of boastfulness, but so that by the proofs of those who went before, the multitude of the faithful and the people of God might be armed by an example of faith. Nor was it without reason that our familiar trust laid this on me, who would gladly obey. For who could doubt what fellowship of life we had in peace, when the time of persecution found us living in undivided love?

For we were traveling into Numidia together, as always before, having set out as companions on equal terms on a road that was leading us to the longed-for service of faith and religion, but them already to heaven. We had come to the place called Muguae, a suburb close to the colony of Cirta, in which city at that time especially the attacks of persecution were swelling like the waves of the world, through the blind fury of the Gentiles and the military authorities, and the madness of the hostile devil gaped with greedy jaws to try the faith of the righteous. Hence Marian and James, the most blessed martyrs, most surely held the signs they had longed for of God's favor toward them: brought, as the hour was now ripening, into that region where the storm of persecution raged most turbulently, they understood that their steps were being directed, with Christ steering, to the very place of their crown. For the fury of the bloodthirsty and blinded governor, through the hands of soldiers, was hunting with hostile and malevolent minds for all the beloved of God. Nor was the madness of cruelty exercised only against those who, unshaken in earlier persecutions, lived freely for God; the devil stretched out his insatiable hand also against those whom the governor's savage frenzy had long since banished into exile and crowned as martyrs in mind, though not yet in blood.

Among these, then, the bishops Agapius and Secundinus, worthy of praise, were being brought from their exile to the governor, both of one heart in spiritual love, the one also in the holiness of bodily continence. They were being brought, I say, not from punishment to punishment, as it seemed to the Gentiles, but rather from glory to glory, from one contest to another, so that those who had subdued the captivating pomps of the world in holding fast to the name of Christ might also tread down the stings of death by the power of perfected faith. For it was not fitting that those whom the Lord was hastening to have with him should seek their victory too slowly in an earthly struggle. And it happened, brothers, that Agapius and Secundinus, glorious martyrs from an illustrious priesthood, on the journey by which they were going to the battle of their blessed passion—by the temporal power of the governor indeed, but by the choice of Christ—deigned to enter our lodging. Such a spirit of life and grace was in them that it was not enough for such holy and illustrious witnesses of God to have destined their own precious blood for a glorious martyrdom, unless by the inspiration of their faith they also made others martyrs. Such was their charity and love toward the brothers that, although they could have built up the faith of the brotherhood in silence by the example of so devoted and resolute a virtue, they nevertheless, taking wider thought for steadfast perseverance, poured into our hearts the dew of a saving discourse; for those who lived by the word of God could not keep silent. Nor is it surprising if in those few days their saving discourse so richly enlivened the minds of us all, since Christ was already shining in them with flashing grace from their approaching passion.

So, as they set out, they left Marian and James so formed by their example and teaching that they left behind the freshest footprints of their glory for those who would follow. For scarcely two days had passed, and behold, their palm was seeking out Marian and James, our dearest ones. Nor was it, as in other places, one or another stationarius soldier doing this; a violent band of centurions and a shameless crowd had flocked to the villa where we were staying, as though to a famous stronghold of the faith. O longed-for raid! O happy alarm, worthy of exultation! For they came to us only so that the righteous blood of Marian and James might fulfil God's favor. Hardly, dearest brothers, can we in this place curb our overflowing joy—we who two days before had sent some from our embraces to the very end of their passion, and still had others with us as martyrs to be. When the now ripe hour of God's favor sought them out more strongly, it touched us too with some share in our brothers' glory, and we were dragged from Muguae to the colony of Cirta. Our dearest ones followed, chosen for the palm of passion, led both by their love for us and by Christ's now ripe favor. So, in a wonderful way and by a spotless order of going, those followed who were to go on ahead. Then there was no long delay for them; for while they were encouraging us with greater exultation, they gave themselves away as Christians with a freer joy. Soon questioned, when they persisted in a most steadfast confession of the name, they were led off to prison.

Then they were assailed with many harsh tortures by the stationarius soldier, butcher of the just and godly, with the centurion and the magistrates of Cirta—that is, the priests of the devil—called in to aid his cruelty, as though faith, to which care for the body is of little account, could be broken by the tearing of limbs. James, always rather stern in the strength of his faith, who had already once overcome the assaults of the Decian persecution, chose to confess himself not only a Christian but also a deacon. Marian, however, was made liable to tortures because he confessed himself only a reader, as indeed he had been. What tortures those were! How novel, how exquisite the punishments, devised by the devil's venomous mind and arts of overthrow! Marian was hung up for wounds; but grace was present to the martyr even in his very lacerations, and he was so tortured that the punishment itself exalted him. The bonds that held him hanging bound not his hands but the tips of his thumbs, so that the slender weakness of the fingers would labor the more in bearing the rest of his limbs. Unjust weights were also tied to his feet, so that, pulled apart both ways by conflicting torments and loosened by the wrenching of his inner parts, the frame of his whole body hung from his sinews. You achieved nothing, Gentile wickedness, against the temple of God, against the co-heir of Christ. Though you hung up his limbs, shook his sides, tore his inner parts, our Marian, trusting in God, grew as much in mind as in body. At last, when the savagery of the torturers had been overcome, he was shut up again in prison, rejoicing greatly in his triumph. There, with James and the other brothers, he celebrated the joy of the Lord's victory with frequent prayer.

What now, Gentiles? Do you believe that Christians feel the pains of prison and shudder at the darkness of this world, when the joy of eternal light awaits them? The spirit, embracing heaven in mind with faithful hope of the grace to come, is no longer present to its own punishments. Though you seek out a secret and hidden place for your tortures, the heavy horrors of a gloomy dungeon and a house of darkness, to those who trust in God no place feels squalid, no time sad. Christ cherishes day and night the brothers dedicated to God the Father. For when Marian, after that torture of his body, had sunk deep into tranquil sleep, he himself, on waking, told us what the divine favor had shown him for confidence in the hope of salvation: “There was shown to me, brothers,” he said, “the lofty height of an exalted and dazzling white tribunal, on which, in place of the governor, a judge of very handsome face was presiding. There was a scaffold there, not with a low platform nor climbed by a single step, but built up with many steps and very high to ascend. The ranks of confessors were brought up one by one, and the judge ordered them to be led to the sword. My turn came too. Then I heard a clear and immense voice saying, ‘Bring Marian here.’ And I was climbing onto that scaffold, and behold, unexpectedly Cyprian appeared to me, sitting at the right hand of the judge; he stretched out his hand, lifted me to a higher place on the scaffold, smiled, and said, ‘Come, sit with me.’ And it came about that the other ranks were heard while I too sat beside him. Then the judge rose, and we escorted him to his praetorium. Our way led through a place lovely with meadows and clothed with the joyful foliage of green groves, shaded by cypresses rising high and pines striking the sky, so that you would think the whole circuit of the place was crowned with green woods. In the middle a hollow overflowed with the rich veins and pure waters of a clear spring. And behold, suddenly the judge withdrew from our sight. Then Cyprian took a cup that lay on the edge of the spring, filled it from the spring like a thirsty man, and drank; and filling it again he handed it to me, and I drank gladly. And as I was saying ‘Thanks be to God,’ I was woken by my own voice,” he said, “and got up.”

Then James too recalled that a showing of God's favor had signified this crown to him. For in the preceding days, when Marian and James, and I with them, were traveling together in the same carriage, about midday, on that rough stretch of road, he was seized by a wonderfully deep sleep; and when he had been roused and woken by us, he said, “I was troubled, brothers, but not without joy; and you too ought to rejoice with me. I saw,” he said, “a young man of indescribable and very great stature, whose garment, ungirt, was so white with light that the eyes could not look at it steadily; his feet did not tread the earth, and his face was above the clouds. As he ran past, he threw into our laps a purple belt—one for you, Marian, and one for me—and said, ‘Follow me quickly.’” O rest stronger than all waking! O rest—how happily he sleeps who keeps watch in faith!—which had put to sleep only the earthly limbs, since none but the spirit could see the Lord. How exultant and how exalted, we must believe, were the spirits of the martyrs to whom, as they were about to suffer in the confession of the holy name, it was granted beforehand both to hear Christ and to see him offering himself to his own, in whatever place, at whatever time. Neither the restless jolting of the moving vehicle was a hindrance, nor midday, which was then shining under a bright sun. No secrecy of night was waited for: in a new kind of grace the Lord chose a new time of vision for his martyr.

Nor was this favor shown to one or two only. For Aemilian, though by Gentile reckoning of equestrian rank, was himself one of the brothers in the prison; he had come to nearly his fiftieth year a virgin in the flesh. After keeping in prison a doubled fast and often repeated prayers, by which his devoted mind, so nourished, was being prepared for the Lord's sacrament on the following day, he lay down to sleep at midday; and soon, roused from rest, he disclosed to us the secrets of his vision as follows: “When I had been brought out of prison,” he said, “a Gentile met me—my own brother in the flesh. Very curious about our affairs, he inquired in a mocking voice, asking how we were faring in that penal darkness and the hunger of the prison. I answered that the soldiers of Christ have in darkness the brightest light and in fasting the satisfying food of the word of God. When he heard this, he said, ‘Know that all of you who are held in prison, if you stubbornly persist, will face capital punishment.’ But I, fearing that he was mocking me with a lie made up to deceive, wished to confirm my hope, and said, ‘Truly, shall we all suffer?’ He affirmed it again: ‘The sword and blood are close at hand for you. But I would like to know,’ he said, ‘whether all of you who despise this life are paid the rewards of the heavenly gifts without distinction and equally.’ I answered him, ‘I am not fit to pass judgment on so great a matter. Lift up your eyes for a moment to heaven,’ I said; ‘you will see an innumerable host of twinkling stars. Does every star shine with equal honor of light? And yet the light of all is one.’ To this he again found something to ask, out of curiosity: ‘So if there is some distinction,’ he said, ‘which of you are the more excellent in winning the Lord's good pleasure?’ ‘Certainly,’ I said, ‘two above the rest, whose names are not to be told to you and are known to God.’ At last, as he pressed more sharply and inquired more troublesomely, I said, ‘They are those who are crowned the more gloriously the more difficult and slow their victory; and that is why it is written: It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdoms of heaven.’”

After these visions they stayed a few more days in prison and were then brought out in public, so that the magistrates of Cirta might send them on to the governor, honored with the record of a most steadfast confession and with part of their condemnation already passed. And behold, one of our brothers standing by drew to himself the eyes of all the Gentiles, because Christ was already shining in his mouth and face through the grace of his approaching passion. When they asked him with turbulent and raging minds whether he too was of the same religion and name, he seized so sweet a companionship by a most prompt confession. So the blessed martyrs, by their records, gained more witnesses of God even while they themselves were being prepared for martyrdom; and now, sent to the governor, they hastened willingly along a laborious and difficult road. Then, brought before the governor, they were received once more by a prison, that of Lambaesis. For these are the only lodgings the righteous have among the Gentiles.

Meanwhile, for very many days a numerous brotherhood was being sent to the Lord by the shedding of blood, and the rage of the mad governor, occupied with so many wounds of the laity, could not reach the sacrifice of Marian and James and the clergy. For a cunning cruelty had so divided the ranks of our religion from one another that it thought the laity, separated from the clergy, would yield to the temptations and terrors of the world. So our dearest and most faithful soldiers of Christ, and the rest of the clergy, had begun to be somewhat saddened that, while the laity had completed the glory of their contest, so slow and so late a victory was being kept for them.

Then Agapius appeared to James in prison during his time of rest—Agapius, who had long since completed the sacraments of a perfected faith by his martyrdom; who, when he had prayed with often repeated petitions for two girls, Tertulla and Antonia, whom he loved most dearly as his own children, that by God's favor they too might become martyrs with him, had received confidence in his merits through such a revelation: it was said to him, “Why do you keep asking for what you have obtained by one prayer?” For at the very moment of his passion, while the executioner was awaited, James said, “It is well: I am going to the banquet of Agapius and the other most blessed martyrs. For this night, brothers, I saw our Agapius, more joyful than all the others whom the prison of Cirta had shut up together with us, celebrating a solemn banquet full of gladness. When Marian and I were being carried to it, as to a love-feast, by the spirit of love and charity, a boy ran to meet us who was clearly one of the twins who had suffered with their mother three days before; he had a crown of roses around his neck and carried a very green palm in his right hand, and he said, ‘Why are you hurrying? Rejoice and be glad, for tomorrow you too will dine with us.’” Great and glorious is God's favor toward his own! O true and fatherly goodness in Jesus Christ our Lord, who grants such large benefits to his beloved and declares beforehand the gifts of his mercy that he is about to bestow! The first day after the vision had dawned, and now the governor's sentence was serving God's promises: by a sentence of death it released from the pressures of the world Marian and James and the rest of the clergy, restored at last with glory to the patriarchs. For they were brought to the place of their crown, which lay in the middle of a river valley with high hills on its banks on either side; and the lofty height of the slopes on both sides served as a gallery for spectators. The riverbed itself, in its middle hollow, drank the gore of the blessed blood. Nor was either kind of sacrament lacking, since they were both baptized in their own blood and washed in the river.

You would have seen wonderful things there, and exquisite short-cuts of cruelty. For since the numerous people of the righteous pressed upon the executioner's hand and upon the sword itself, given over to so many necks, a cunning savagery arranged the lines in order, row by row, so that the stroke of the sacrilegious executioner might fall on the godly necks as if in a kind of frenzied onrush. Then, so that this bloody and barbarous task should not become unmanageable, it devised this way of speeding the crime: for if the executioner stood in one place to strike, the heap would pile up an immense slaughter of bodies, and the riverbed, filled with such slaughter, would at last deny him room. Then, though their eyes were blindfolded in the customary way under the stroke of the sword, no darkness closed the vision of the free mind; rather, a generous and inestimable splendor of immense light shone forth. For many of them told the brothers near and beside them that, although their bodily sight was not open, they nevertheless saw certain wonders: horses gleaming snowy white appeared above them, ridden by young men in white. Nor were there lacking among that same number of martyrs those who confirmed their colleagues' account with their ears, recognizing the neighing and the sound of the horses. There, too, Marian, now filled with a prophetic spirit, boldly and bravely proclaimed the near vengeance for the righteous blood, and, as though already from the summit of heaven, threatened the world with various plagues: pestilence, captivities, famine, earthquakes, and the tormenting poisons of the dog-fly. By this proclamation the martyr's faith not only exulted over the Gentiles, but also sounded beforehand, as it were, the trumpet-call to the brothers, as an incentive to emulate virtue, so that amid such plagues of the world God's righteous ones might seize the occasion of so good and precious a death.

When this was done, Marian's mother, exulting with a Maccabean joy and, now that his passion was complete, at peace about her son, began to congratulate not only him but herself as well, who had borne such a child. She embraced in her son's body the glory of her own womb, and her religious devotion pressed frequent kisses on the very wounds of his neck. Rightly are you called Mary! O blessed are you, mother, both in your son and in your name! Who would think that the happiness of so great a name had ever been misplaced in her, whom the fruit of her womb so adorned? Truly inestimable is the mercy of almighty God and of his Christ toward his own, who not only strengthens by the favor of grace those who trust in his name, but also gives them life by the redemption of blood. For who could measure his benefits with a worthy estimate? He works with fatherly kindness always in this too, that even what we believe is repaid in our own blood is a gift conferred on us by almighty God; to whom be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.