Episodes from the lives of the Georgian saints
Once, they say, Tamar was making ready to go to Gelati for the festal liturgy. At that moment it was reported to her that a beggar at the tower door was asking alms. The queen was fastening rubies to her headband and commanded: let him wait for me. When she had finished her handiwork, the beggar had already gone. She was greatly grieved: in his person I have refused alms to the Lord Jesus, — and she took off the brand-new headband and offered it to the icon of the Mother of God at Gelati.
Of Tamar's goodness legends went about. She herself said: “I am the father of orphans and the judge of widows.” By her command every year the “overseers” reckoned up all the revenue of the country, and a tenth part they gave out to the poor and the destitute. And the queen herself, like David the Builder, did her works of mercy out of her own handiwork; she was a woman and knew how to work with her hands, and what she knitted and sewed her servants sold, and this money they gave to widows and orphans. Many times she clothed the poor with her own hands in what she had sewn. A multitude of beggars went about Georgia proudly, clothed in what the queen had made.
Father Gabriel told of Saint John Maisuradze: once the fathers of Betania were in great need, and Father John was obliged to lead a horse to be sold. It was a quiet and harmless beast, strong and healthy. “At how much dost thou value that horse?” a certain man asked him, not without mockery. “At as much as thou givest,” answered the venerable father. “Still, for how much wilt thou sell him to me?” the man pressed. “For as much as thou givest, child,” Father John said again. “Then here are three roubles, and fare thee well,” the buyer sneered, and held out three roubles to Father John. This was a very small price for a horse, but the venerable father was not angry; calmly he took the money, said: God bless thee, — and went away. A little later he heard neighing and cursing: the man had mounted the newly bought horse, but could by no means master him; the hitherto harmless beast reared up and would not keep its rider. At last it threw him off. The man could scarcely straighten his back and said: let both the money and the horse be thine, only leave me in peace, — and in fright thrust the bridle upon Father John.
A great ascetic was Father Arsenius of Gareji — sometimes he took bread once in two days, sometimes after five. Therefore three demons fought against him without ceasing, but the venerable father had his hope in the Mother of God and endured hunger. One day, at the hour of the meal, one of the brethren asked him for bread. Arsenius broke off a piece for him. “Yesterday I ate no bread, and tomorrow I must go without food. What will this small piece of bread do for me?” he thought against his will, and at once came to himself, understanding that this vain thought was from the devil. He took the bread, went outside and threw it to a dog, and himself went into a cleft of the rock, beat his breast with his fist and said: “O my wretched soul! Art thou not ashamed? Even the dog is better than thou, for he took the bread without murmuring, while thou grievest over the littleness of it! For this, O evil belly, I shall give thee no food today nor tomorrow, that by the grace of Christ I may teach thee good order.”
That day and the next the venerable father passed in hunger. And afterward, when he saw again those three demons, he struck one of them, the chief of them, with his staff and cast him out in the name of Christ. After this that demon appeared to him no more; the other two still fought against him, but they had grown weak and could no longer harm the valiant soldier of Christ.
Our venerable father Christopher of Gareji bewailed himself thus: “A glutton art thou, monk, prodigal and sinful! Though thou eatest no meat, thou eatest bread to the full, and when thou findest it, thou drinkest wine also. Wretched monk, art thou not afraid?! Hast thou forgotten death and the parting of soul from body? Today or tomorrow he will come who shall take thee away. Prepare thyself!” — and, like a mother bereft of her children, he would begin to weep bitterly.
When those close to Saint Gregory of Khandzta, who was still very young, told him that he was to be ordained priest, he was greatly troubled. With reverence he reminded them how careful a priest must be, how great and exalted is the degree of the priesthood. But they answered him: “Now God has given thee ‘the good old age of the mind’, and henceforth be not stubborn, but submit to Christ and serve Him in the priesthood.” Having heard these words, Saint Gregory refused no more and, by God's will, was ordained priest.
By the blessing of Saint Gregory of Khandzta, and against his own will, Saint Matoi took upon himself the priesthood at the women's monastery of Mere. They said that in forty years of his priesthood at the monastery no one heard from him an idle word or a useless answer. And not only this: those who saw his fear of God, his purity and his blameless life, seeing it, dared not give themselves to “careless merriment”, for he had become to all a pattern of the good. He remained a true virgin both in body and in soul; by fasting and prayer he trod down the passions of the flesh and made weak the enemies of the soul. And when he departed, the holy mother Antonios, the recluse, had a vision: a council of angels was bearing up to heaven the soul of Saint Matoi. The venerable father was clothed in shining priestly vesture, and in his hand he held a golden censer. And he said, they say, to mother Antonios: to that altar which I served from my youth I have now passed over, to serve it with this censer without end, for I have been counted worthy to stand before the heavenly altar and to serve for ever.
Saint Zacharias of Anchi in his boyhood was a shepherd of lambs. With his friends he often played. Their favourite game was “the liturgy”. And once, during the game, the boy Zacharias prepared bread and wine as an offering and laid them before the honourable cross. The other children stood about him and sang with angelic voices: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord of Sabaoth,” — and many times repeated “Kyrie eleison”. At that time the bishop of Anchi was passing along the road, and he saw a pillar of light come down from heaven upon the boy-priest. He saw also that the bread and the wine had by Zacharias's prayer been changed into the Blood and Body of the Lord. The hierarch was amazed, came and received Communion from the hands of this very boy. After this the bishop of Anchi took Zacharias with him and gave him to venerable fathers to be brought up.
In Klarjeti a certain woman had a daughter, deaf and dumb from birth. When the girl reached thirteen years, Saint Epiphanius of Khandzta appeared to her mother in sleep and said to her: tomorrow send someone to me, to Khandzta. I shall send with him the water in which I wash my hands at the liturgy. Anoint her with it, and thy daughter will be healed. And indeed, the next day the woman sent a servant to Khandzta. To Saint Epiphanius all this had been made known by God, and he sent with the servant the water from the washing of his hands. The woman with great hope took into her hands “that blessing of the priest who worthily offers the bloodless sacrifice” and anointed her daughter with it. The child fell asleep. After three days and nights she awoke wholly healed and glorified God.
On the feast of the Transfiguration Saint Euthymius with other fathers went up to the peak of Athos and in the church that stood there served the liturgy. At the chief moment of the liturgy, when they sang “Holy”, all saw Saint Euthymius as a blazing fire. At that same moment the earth shook and a voice was heard, like the cry of a multitude of men. Those who saw it fell upon their faces in terror and dared not lift their heads. Saint Euthymius himself raised them up and heartened them, saying to them: fear not, brethren; God has looked upon us, and Christ has glorified His own feast.
Saint George the Hagiorite ordained priest a young brother named Stephen. Of him the great guide said: “Though Stephen is small in years, in mind he is an elder.” And so the devil grew envious. When the brethren were making ready in the church for the liturgy, he fell upon Stephen and threw him down. The poor man gnashed his teeth. Foam came from his mouth. This was hastily reported to Saint George (the Hagiorite). The venerable father was not troubled by the devil's boldness. Nor did he use exorcisms before the eyes of men, but prayed briefly to God. He came to Stephen and quietly called: “Stephen.” And he, as though roused from sleep, answered: “Bless me, father.” The elder asked: “What has befallen thee, child?” Stephen answered: I know not what has befallen me, but upon hearing thy voice I am already well. Saint George bade him make the sign of the cross. Then he commanded that the singing be begun and the liturgy served. And Stephen too he commanded to serve together with the rest. Some were afraid: lest the sickness return. The holy father reproved them for their little faith and said: the same God is his Physician Who cast the legion of demons, together with the swine, into the sea. After this the brethren, set at ease, offered to the Lord the bloodless sacrifice.
Saint Michael of Parekhi struggled apart from the brethren. With him fought the hater of good, the devil. Once he even threw him down from a cliff. The elder was grieved, wearied by the devil's trials, and called Saint Gregory to his aid. Father Gregory came to him at once and made two wooden crosses — two seals that give victory. He set them in the ground near the cell in different places. He appointed them to Saint Michael as a boundary and said to him: between these two crosses of Christ, with the help of the Holy Trinity and by the power of the honourable cross, stand without fear. But if thou goest beyond them, a trial worse than the former will befall thee.
After this the blessed Michael found perfect peace.
The parents of Metropolitan Gregory (Tsertsvadze) had lost four children before his birth, and they vowed to God: if the newborn is born healthy, we shall offer him to Thee. And indeed, a son was born to them, and they called him George. George's childhood fell upon a dreadful time. Once members of the Komsomol carried the holy books out of the village church and burned them. Little George, hiding nearby, seized his moment, took the books that survived and by night hid them at the end of his vineyard, in a haystack. But his mother brought them home. Little George was alarmed, carried the books off by moonlight and hid them there again. That same night the police fell upon their house, but found nothing.
The time came to fulfil the vow also: they set George on a covered cart, tied a sheep behind it as well, brought him to the church of Tetri Giorgi and handed him over to the Lord.
The holy bishop Gabriel used to tell that in childhood he was very mischievous. His father Maxime was the spiritual father of the ruler of Guria, and little Gerasim (afterwards Saint Gabriel) went with him to church. He was, they say, very busy: now he lit the candles, now he fanned the censer, now he rang the little bells, now he handed his father his vestments... and often, being weary, he would fall asleep at Vespers beside the holy table.
The parents of Archimandrite Parthenius (Aptsiauri) had no children. His father vowed: O God, make me worthy of a child, and I shall offer him to Thee. Their wish was fulfilled, and a son was born to them, and they named him John. At three years of age John suddenly fell ill and died. The lamentation of the parents reached to heaven. At that time a certain blind elder came into their house and said to the grieving father: hast thou forgotten that thou didst offer thy son to God as a monk? The father in his bitterness answered: would I deceive Him? But what am I to do, for the dead will not come to life. The elder said: in token of thy vow to God, make a notch on the main pillar of the house (according to the custom of the Mtiuli), that if the child comes to life, thou wilt raise him as a servant of the Lord. The father took the dead child in his arms, took a dagger and struck the main pillar of the house. The child at once opened his eyes and looked at his father. The gladdened parent, in his exceeding joy, cut a second notch upon the pillar.
Saint George the Hagiorite was the third child in his family. Before his birth his parents had vowed that if they had a son, they would offer him to God. One night there appeared to his mother one shining and glorious: “Behold, thou shalt bear a son who shall be a chosen ram of God; and according to the vow offer him to God and call his name George.” George from his youth was God-fearing and God-loving. The devil purposed to destroy him. Once little George stood on the bank of a river. And from the far bank a boy of his own age, clothed in the colour of fire, called to him: come to me, and let us sing. When George was about to step into the river, a certain beautiful youth, clothed in white, took him by the sleeve and said to him: be with me, for I am a better friend to thee. This vision the venerable father himself explained: across the river stood the devil, clothed with the eternal fire of hell, and he wished to drown the boy in the river. And he who was clothed in white was the angel whom the Lord had appointed as his guardian from his youth.
Saint Gregory of Khandzta too was “from his mother's womb dedicated to God”. From boyhood he was brought up in fasting. Never did he taste meat or wine. From childhood he loved solitude. Therefore, while still a child, they called him the recluse. His love of learning amazed everyone: “much of the wisdom of this world he learned to good purpose, and many divine books he committed to memory,” writes of him George Merchule.
The disciples of Saint Gregory of Khandzta, Theodore and Christopher, travelling in Samtskhe, stopped at the house of the great noble Mirian. Mirian asked them to bless his wife and children. Then he said to his wife: “Now let us do a good marvel”: let us appoint one of our sons to be a monk and a disciple of these disciples of Christ. Only say which of our children shall be dedicated. His wife answered: my lord, thy sons are before thee, and whichever thou commandest, he shall be the monk. Then Mirian commanded: let the youngest be the monk and the spiritual son of the fathers of the desert. He signed his son with the cross, clothed him in the garb of obedience and handed him over to the venerable fathers. And they gave the boy the name Arsenius. Afterwards he became catholicos of Kartli.
Another kind of childhood had Father Gabriel (Urgebadze): little Vasiko (so he was called in the world) would sit down and build “churches” out of pebbles. Once he heard that there was a book about the life of the crucified Christ. He gathered money and went to the market at Navtlughi to buy the book. At the market he came upon a white-bearded old man who traded in books. I want a book about the life of Christ, — the boy said to him. Here is the book thou desirest, — said the old man and handed him the book. Vasiko goes home. He looked at the book — “Gospel” was written on it. He thought: did that man deceive me and, instead of “The Life of Christ”, give me the “Gospel”? He went back to the market, but the old man was not there. It turned out that the other traders standing right there had not seen the white-bearded man at all.
Once his angry mother took the “Gospel” away from the child and threw it into the privy. Vasiko with difficulty got the book out, cleaned it and ran away from home. Thereafter, when people stood in the way of his love for God, he often acted so... While still very small he built a little cell in the yard and moved there to live. His mother pitied him and brought him a pillow. The angry Vasiko chopped the pillow to pieces with an axe and said to his mother: how didst thou dare to enter the cell without leave and bring in a pillow? Our Lord Jesus Christ was so poor that He had not where to lay His head.
Upon Saint Gabriel Kikodze, then still the priest Gerasim, there fell in 1856 a great sorrow — in a very short time his wife and five children died. Stricken, he resolved to leave the priesthood, but the exarch Isidore dissuaded him. He said: “See now what the Lord has done for thee? He has taken from thee thy wife and children and numbered them among the angels, and in their stead He gives thee the Georgian people, that thou mayest lead them, teach them the way of truth, and offer to the Lord a people enlightened and cleansed from every evil.” The admonition had its effect upon Gerasim; he submitted to the will of the Lord and devoted his whole life to it.
It was the fourth century. All Mtskheta was going to see the greatest of wonders — Svetitskhoveli. At home there remained only the parents mourning beside the body of their son; they lamented bitterly and wept for their dead son: arise, light of our eyes, that we may draw near to that pillar of light, that we may rejoice together with the others. Suddenly the dead boy came to life, stood upon his feet and asked his parents to take him to Svetitskhoveli. He told that he had been cast into the abyss of hell. Suddenly a pillar of light came down from heaven, upon the top of which the Saviour sat in glory. Suddenly from the pillar there came a voice which commanded the angels: bring that boy, the only-begotten son of poor parents. And return him to them, for from their pain “My heart aches”. The angels returned the boy's soul to his body, and the parents' great grief was changed into great joy.
Rostom, the eristavi of Racha, at the prompting of evil men cut off the arm of his faithful Japar Japaridze and put out his eyes. Those same men won over the commander Papuna Tsereteli and began to slander the eristavi Rostom before Solomon the First. And the king, being convinced of his treachery, handed him over to his commander: “do with him what thou wilt,” he said to him. They burned out Rostom's eyes also and put him in the fortress of Modinakhe. When Papuna went off anywhere to a feast, he would take the captive with him, would make him sing — the eristavi of Racha was a famed singer — and mocked him the while: dost thou remember how thou camest down into the valleys and ploughed my fields? Now I repay thee in kind and harrow thy heart.
It is Great Saturday, the eve of Pascha. Into the enclosure of the church comes a young man, leading with him a blind old man. No one here knows him.
Dawn broke, and the festal ringing of bells rang out. “Christ is risen!” says the priest. “Truly!” answers the people. They sing. That unknown old man came up to the singers and with a trembling voice said: “I have known thy voice, Rostom eristavi! Christ is risen!” “Who art thou?” asked the startled eristavi. “Hast thou not remembered me?” said the unknown man. — “Thou too art ruined, and me thou hast ruined... Christ is risen, rejoice!..” “Japar?! — roared the eristavi, — I too am ruined, and thee I have ruined. Christ is risen, rejoice!..” The two blind old men embraced one another, laid neck upon neck and wept aloud. The people, holding their breath, gazed at them. Japara drew back from Rostom and said to him: “No, lord eristavi, it does not become this day to weep.” “Thou speakest truly, my Japara,” answered Rostom, “as always, thou knowest what is thine. But God raised me from the dead at that very time when He sent me misfortune and they put out my eyes. Before that I looked upon everything and saw nothing. I listened and heard nothing. But then for the first time the eye of my mind was opened. I looked into my heart and saw everything. Embittered by pride, I was, it seems, a slave of hell; but now I serve Christ and sing to Him with relief and joy. Come now, let us raise our own Rachian ‘Christ is risen’!” — and there rang out such a hymn as Satseretlo had never heard before.
From the “Life of John and Euthymius” we learn that with as much grace from on high as the blessed father Euthymius was filled, with such divine rules and order did he establish his own monastery... He always entreated the members of the brotherhood to be zealous in coming to church, in standing decently and in praying fervently. Father Euthymius laboured diligently for the order of the monastery and for the reverent life of the brethren. With love he taught the brethren, reproved them and comforted them: he appointed over them as overseers men most honourable and God-fearing, whose duty it was to watch how the members of the brotherhood fulfilled the rules laid down by the superior, and in case of need to punish the guilty. They went to the brethren's cells and brought back those who had stayed at home. If anyone did not come at the appointed time of matins, a fitting penance was laid upon him, just as Father Euthymius had established. During the prayers, in every church the elders stood at the doors and asked any member of the brotherhood going out of the church the reason for going out. If anyone had no truly pressing business, no one dared to go out; but if he had pressing business, he told the appointed elder (the epitiritis) and returned quickly. If he was late, the elder called him to account and warned him: “Do this no more!” And if he did it again, they did not let him into the refectory, but appointed him that day to eat dry bread or to make a hundred prostrations. And if the holy father Euthymius found anyone negligent, dissolute or newly come, he spoke with them again and again, taught, reproved and comforted them. The craftsmen he asked to be nimble and to make no one's work hard.
From the “Life of Saint Gregory of Khandzta” we learn that “Father Gregory received none of the negligent”. But first he tried everyone in every good work, and if he found one guileless of heart, without craft, and in every good work obedient without murmuring and with humility, he received him with joy. Therefore every disciple of his was exceedingly good and worthily received his holy virtues. And thus in blessedness they lived spiritually, while bodily they dwelt in great straitness.
