St. Abraham

From his Life by St. Ephrem.

ST. ABRAHAM was born in Mesopotamia, about the year 300, of wealthy parents, by whom he was tenderly beloved, and who provided him with a worldly spouse, to whom they from his childhood had pro mised him in marriage, designing to procure him an advantageous settlement, and desiring nothing so much as to see him advanced to some post of honor or dignity in the world: but God, who had other de signs upon him, inspired him with the love of purity, and an early affection to the practices of piety and devotion. He was remarkably diligent in frequenting the church, — in attending to the holy scriptures, — and in carrying Lome the divine lessons he there heard, in order to make them the subjects of his meditation both day and night. When he had come to man's estate, his parents pressed him so closely to marry the girl to whom they had before contracted him, and after having resisted their solicitations for some time, he was at length constrained to acquiesce. But after celebrating the marriage feast, when nio-ht

O O O came on, a ray of divine light having penetrated his heart, accompanied by so strong a call to quit all for the love of God, that he immediately arose, and left both his spouse untouched and his father's house, and going to some distance off, hid himself in an empty cell which he found fit for his purpose, and there with great joy began to sing hymns of praise to his divine Deliverer.

His parents and friends not knowing what became of him, after a diligent search of seventeen days discovered him in his cell at his prayers. But as they found him fixed in his resolution to remain there, in order, as he said, to bewail his sins, and dedicate the remainder of his life to prayer and penance, they left him to follow the call of God, and returned home. At parting he desired that they would not come any more under pretence of visiting him, to interrupt his spiritual exercises; and that he might have as little communication as possible with the world, he walled up the door of his cell, leaving only a little window through which he received, from time to time, the slender provisions which maintained his life. Here, free from the cares and distractions of the world, he lived in the greatest austerity, abstaining even from bread,— in watchings, penitential tears, and a continual practice of the most profound humility, wonderful charity and meekness, which he showed, without respect of persons, to every one. In this solitary state he continued for the space of many years, without ever remitting or being wearied out by his long penance, but rather finding an unspeakable sweetness therein, with which he was never satisfied. He considered every day as if it were the day of his death, and suffer ed not so much as one day to pass without weeping, but was never seen to laugh. Yet with all this austerity and continual mortification, he always preserved a fresh countenance, an agreeable air, and a strength and vigor of body, which must have proceeded from grace, and not from the slender nourishment he al lowed himself. Nay, his very habit, which must be considered as a kind of a miracle, was Hot worn out during the fifty years that he remained in this penitential course of life.

The reputation of his sanctity brought many of all conditions to him, to whom he gave admirable lessons for their spiritual profit; for our Lord had rewarded his early piety with the gifts of wisdom and underitanding in so eminent a degree, that his light shone forth to all that approached him for their instruction and edification. In the mean time his parents dying, when he had been about ten years in this solitude, left him their worldly substance, which was very considerable, which he desired a friend of his to charge himself with, and to dispose of the whole in alms and other pious uses, in order that himself might not be distracted or interrupted in his spiritual exercises by any temporal concerns.

There was in the neighborhood of the Saint's cell, not far distant from the city of Edessa, a large country town, inhabited by pagans, who were not only obstinately addicted to their idolatrous worship, and heathenish superstitions, but also excessively barbarous and cruel towards all such as sought to reclaim them from their idolatry, by preaching to them the faith of Christ, insomuch that several of the clergy and religious in those parts, who had from time to time at tempted to convert them to Christianity, instead of succeeding in their undertaking, meeting with nothing but insults and outrages, were forced by their barbarity to abandon their enterprise. The bishop hearing of the heroic virtues of Abraham, cast his eyes upon him as one whose charity, zeal, meekness, and patience, seemed most likely to prevail over the blindness and obstinacy of these infidels; wherefore assembling hi clergy, he proposed to them the advancing of the man of God to the priestly dignity, to the end that he might go and convert them. Having unanimously applauded his proposition, they went in a body, with the prelate at their head, to the cell of the holy man. The bishop told him upon what occasion they were come, and how great and charitable a work it would be in him to go and endeavor to procure the salvation of so many poor deluded souls. Abraham, at the hearing of this proposal, being struck with surprise, begged that the prelate would never think of sending such a miserable wretch as he was upon so important and arduous an enterprise, but rather suffer him to remain in his cell to lament and to do penance for his manifold sins. The bishop encouraged him, assuring him that God would assist him in this great work; that his having forsaken all things for his love, was not sufficient to make his sacrifice complete, unless he were also ready to renounce his own will by the virtue of obedience, which is the true way to find out the will of God; that whilst he stayed in his cell, he was la boring only for his own salvation; but by going where he was about to send him, and laboring in the conversion of those infidels, the grace of God co-operating with him, he would become the instrument of saving the souls of many, and be entitled to a much greater reward in eternal bliss. The man of God, on hearing this, could resist no longer; but cried out w^li fears: " The Lord's will be done! I am ready to go to what soever place you shall be pleased to send me." Thui the bishop, having brought him out of his cell, or dained him priest, and sent him to preach to that pagan people.

He began his mission by pouring out prayers and tears before God in behalf of these poor souls, in whom he found no manner of disposition to profit by his words. Then sending to his friend, whom he had charged with the disposal of the worldly substances left him by his parents, he procured from him a sum of money with which he in a short time built a church, and adorned it for divine service. In the mean time the people, for whose conversion he ceased not continually to sigh and pray, made no opposition, although their curiosity brought them daily to behold the building. But when he had finished the church, and dedi cated it to the living God, with a most fervent prayer, accompanied with many tears for the conversion of the idolaters, his zeal carried him from the church to the temple of the idols, where he overthrew their altars, and broke their statues in pieces. Hereupon their rage knew no bounds, but falling upon him with merciless fury, after having discharged innumerable blows and gtripes upon him, they drove him out of the town.

The next morning when they came to the church (as they daily did, not out of devotion, but from a certain curiosity and pleasure they took in seeking its de corations) they were surprised beyond measure to find him at his prayers before the altar. But upon his beginning to preach to them, and to conjure thorn to turn from their idols to the living God, they again fell upon him, and having beat him worse than before, they fastened a rope about his feet, and dragged him like a dead dog out of the town, where they pelted him with stones till they thought they had made an end of him. About midnight he, whom they had left for dead, came to himself, and after fervently praying, with abundance of tears to the Father of mercies, for Iho conversion and salvation of his persecutors, got up, and returned again into the town, and early in the morning was again found in the church singing" psalms. The pagans, although astonished at the sight of him, yet were no way mollified, but rather more enraged, so that they repeated the treatment thej had given him the preceding day, and dragged him again by the feet with ropes out of their town. He returned nevertheless the next day, and thus for the space of three whole years, he still persevered constant in his labors and fervent prayers for their conversion, under a perpetual succession of grievous sufferings, pains, mocker ies, and outrages, without ever showing the least anger or impatience, or returning them a single angry word, or even entertaining in his soul any hatred or aversion towards them whatever, but, on the contrary, the more cruelly they treated him, the more tenderly did he love them, and the more affectionately invite them to come to Christ, the ivay, the truth, and the life.

After three years had elapsed in this manner, the patience and prayers of the Saint at length prevailed over the resistance he had hitherto met with from this obstinate people. Upon a certain occasion, when they were all assembled together, they began to declare to each other their great admiration at the unwearied patience r.nd charity of the servant of God, and from thence to argue that the God whom he preached must needs be the true God, and the religion which taught him so much patience and chanty the true religion. Continuing to reason after this manner with one another, they further observed how he, being but one man, had cast down and broken in pieces all their gods, without their being able to resist him, or to revenge themselves on him. These reflections, being matured by the grace of God, opening their eyes and softening their hearts, produced a general resolution upon the spot of their all going in a body to the church, to yield themselves up to the man of God, and to embrace the faith he preached, which resolution they instantly put in execution. The Saint received them with inexpressible joy, and having first, instructed them in the necessary articles of the cliristian doctrine, he afterwards baptized them, to the number of about one thousand persons, men, women, and children. After which he continued for the space of one year, watering these young plants, till he saw them not only deeply rooted in the Christian faith, but

»lso diligent in bringing forth the fruit of every christian virtue, some thirty, some sixty, and others an hundred fold.

Having thus accomplished the great work for which he was sent, and finding the affection of the people towards him to be so great, that they would never willingly suffer him to return to his solitude; he, when they least suspected it, withdrew himself from them privately by night: having first recommended them in the most earnest manner he could, to the divine goodness, and making three times the sign of the cross over their town. The affliction which these good people suffered, when on coming to church the next morning they could not find their pastor, and the diligence wherewith both they and the bishop, who was sensibly affected with their grief, made search after him, was inexpressible, but all in vain, for he concealed himself with so much secrecy, that they could learn no tidings of him; so that the good prelate, to console and assist them, went amongst them himself, and after having greatly edified them by his instructions, &c. he ordained priests, deacons, and subdeacons amongst them, for the preaching the word of God, and administering the divine sacraments in their infant church. When Abraham was informed how matters stood, he gave thanks to God, and then ventured to return to his ancient cell, where he was frequently \isited by his flock, in order to nourish their 20 souls with the food of the words of life, which issued in copious streams from his sacred lips.

We pass over several other particulars of the virtues of this man of God, and the frequent assaults he underwent from the malice of the common enemy, who had oftentimes visibly appeared to him, but was always so effectually vanquished by his humility, and the confidence he placed in our Lord, as not to be able to inspire him with the least fear. But there remains a remarkable passage of the life of this servant of God which must not be omitted, as it relates to the fall, the conversion, and penance of his niece.

After the Saint had gone back to his cell, it hap pened that his brother, dying in the world, left an only daughter, named Mary, an orphan of seven years of age. This child was brought to her uncle in his wilderness, who undertook to train her up to a religious life, and placed her, for this purpose, in a cell adjoining to his own, with a little window between both, through which he instructed her. Here she made such good use of the lessons she daily received from him, as to become a perfect model of piety and penance, in which happy state she persevered for twenty years, till a false religious, or rather a wolf in sheep's clothing, under pretence of coming to be edified by the conversation of her uncle, found means tc tempt her to sin, and ceased not till she was so un happy as to "uit her cell, and yield to the temptation.

The horror and remorse that followed her crime was BO excessive, that it threw her into despair; so that instead of rising after her fall, and returning to her uncle to confess and do penance for her sin, she was resolved to fly from him, and accordingly went to a distant town, where she abandoned herself to a sinful course of life.

The Saint having taken notice that for the space of two days he had not heard her sing psalms, according to her custom, called out to her to know the cause of her silence, and as no answer was returned, it presently occurred to his recollection that she was the dove he had seen in a vision swallowed up by a dragon. His grief for the loss of his dear child became inexpressible: he wept and prayed for her without ceasing, till at the end of two years, having heard where she was, and the wicked course of life to which she had abandoned herself, he took the resolution of seekinoafter the lost sheep, in order to bring her back to Christ's fold. In order thereto, he procured, through the means of a friend, a horse, together with a soldier's habit, and a large cap or hat, which covered a great part of his face, and taking some monev with him, went to the inn in which she lived, where having ordered a splendid supper to be prepared, he told the host that he had heard much of the beauty of a young woman in his house, whose name was Murv, and desired she might sup with him. Supper being ended,

£32 ST. Aim ATI AM.

and the waiters having- retired, he took off his cap, and mingling tears with his words: "My daughter,'1 said he (for so he used to call her), " don't you know me? — My child did not I bring you up? — What has befallen you? — Who is the murderer that has killed your soul? Where is that angelical habit that you formerly wore? — Where that admirable purity? — Where are those tears which you poured out in the presence of God? — Where those watchings employed in singing the divine praises? — Where that holy austerity that made you take pleasure in lying on the bare ground? — Why did you not, after your u/-st fall, come presently to acquaint me with it, since I should certainly have done penance for you, with my friend Ephreni (the writer of this life), who has been ever since under an unspeakable affliction on your account? — Why had you so little confidence in me? — Alas! who is there without sin but God alone? " On hear-in^ these words she stood like one struck dumb and motionless with confusion and horror, and it was not without extreme difficulty, after many affecting speeches, — lively representations of the tender mercies of God to repenting sinners, — and even promises to take all her sins upon himself, that she at length put on the resolution of returning to her cell. Then prostrating herself at his feet, she spent the remainder of the night in prayers and tears. At break of day he bid her get upon his horse, and thus conducted her back to his cell, ordering her to leave what money and goods she was possessed of behind her, as inherit ing them of the devil, whom she had been serving. After her return, she gave herself up with so much ardor to the exercises of a penitential life, and bewailed her sins day and night with so deep a sense of sorrow and contrition for them, joined with so lively a confidence in the divine mercy, that God was please1., within three years, to give her, as a token of his acceptance of her penitence, the grace of even working miracles, by restoring health to the diseased by her prayers. However, she continued her penitential course with incredible austerity during the fifteen years that she lived after her conversion, never ceas ing to lament her sins, till at length God was pleased to take her to himself. At the hour of her death a certain extraordinary brightness was observed on her countenance, which gave all that were present occasion to glorify God.

As to St. Abraham, he passed to a better life five years before her, after having, as we have already seen, spent fifty years in serving God in the most con- •ummate sanctity. No sooner was the news of hi? death spread abroad, than the whole city, in a manner, crowded about his cell, and as many as could procure the least scrap of his clothes, carried them home with them, as so many precious relics which would bring a blessing along with them to theii houses; and we are assured by St. Ephrem, that the very touch of them cured all diseases upon the spot. St. Abraham is commemorated in the Roman Mar tyrology, on the 16th of March, but the Greeks celebrate his festival, jointly with St. Mary, his niece, on the 29th of October.

Theodoret, in his Philotheus, gives us the life of another St. Abraham, a native of the city of Cyrus who from an anchoretical life was called forth by di vine inspiration to the conversion of the inhabitants of a certain town on mount Libanus; which having happily effected, by his zeal and charity, after three years abode amongst them, he returned to his solitude. The extraordinary sanctity of his life, and the general esteem wherein his eminent virtues and great talents for the gaining of souls to God were held, determined his superiors to send him with the episcopal character to the city of Carra3 (or Haran) in Mesopotamia, which as yet had not received the faith of Christ, but was given up to the worship of devils. Here God gave such a blessing to his labors and preaching, continual prayer, wonderful sanctity and austerity of life, that this idolatrous people, by his means was soon brought over to Christ. He flourished in the fourth uentuiy.