Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy
Once the holy patriarch Gennadius was going to the church of the holy martyr, the blessed Anastasius, and before him went a great multitude of people with candles and with incense. Among the rest was the honourable priest Marcian, of whom on the way a beggar asked alms. The true servant of God did not leave him without heed, listened to him with all his heart, then went aside into a hidden place, took off his clothing, gave it to that beggar and himself remained naked, with nothing but his priestly vestment. He did as the Lord said: “Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again.” So they entered the city and came to the church of the holy martyr Anastasius, and no one knew of the priest's good deed. All offered up prayers before the honourable relics and made ready for the divine service.
When the time came for the washing of feet, the God-clothed Marcian covered his body with his phelonion, that no one might see his nakedness. All the deacons, the priests and the patriarch saw him in the church as though clothed under the phelonion in shining royal garments. When they were communing of the holy Mysteries, another priest saw him likewise clothed in such holy garments and reported it to the patriarch. And he confirmed it: I too saw the same.
After the end of the divine liturgy the patriarch called him into the room where the church goods were kept and began to reprove and rebuke him: what is this thou hast done, brother, against the ordinance of the church? How couldest thou serve in royal garments? The priest in humility fell at his feet and said: forgive me, holy master, but I have done no such thing. The patriarch answered: we all saw thee; why then dost thou deny it? Those who had reported him came, raised him up, took off his phelonion and saw that he was naked. Then the righteousness and mercy of this priest became plain. All glorified God, Who gives secret grace to those who love Him. From that day his life, full of mercy to the poor, became known to many, while he himself in poverty and patience gave thanks to God; and for his kindness God granted him the gift of wonderworking. He drove demons out of men, healed the sick, walked in desert places, and where he found a kinless dead man, he washed him, wrapped him in a shroud and said to him: arise, brother. And the dead man at once stood up. He kissed him, and the departed rested again. This blessed priest Marcian God glorified, the angels praised, men held in awe, and the demons trembled at the sight of him. He amazed all, and all glorified God, to Whom be glory unto the ages of ages.
Martyrius was a lover of Christ, merciful to the poor, young in years but wise in mind, a monk living purely and without malice. This monk worthy of imitation often went to another monastery to his spiritual father for a blessing, for he had great love and trust towards him. Once, going thither, he saw lying on the road a beggar covered with sores and blind. He too wished to go to the same monastery, but could not. The blessed Martyrius pitied him, wrapped him in his own cassock, took him on his shoulders and carried him to the monastery.
His God-inspired father with his spiritual eye saw this beforehand and called the monks: go, open the monastery gates quickly; the beloved brother Martyrius is carrying God and is coming to us. At the gates of the monastery, when he who carried the beggar took him down from his shoulders, only then did He appear in the likeness of our God and Saviour Jesus Christ, Who began to ascend to heaven. Martyrius looked in amazement and did not take his eyes away. And He Who was ascending to heaven said to him: O Martyrius, thou hast not despised Me upon earth, and I shall not despise thee in heaven. Thou hast shown Me mercy, and I shall have mercy on thee.
When Martyrius entered the monastery, his spiritual father asked him: child Martyrius, who was it that thou didst carry? He answered: had I known, honourable father, Who it was, I would have held more firmly to His feet and would have bathed them with my tears, — and he told them all of the wonder that had happened. The spiritual father asked: beloved child, was He heavy? And he answered: no, honourable father; when I took Him up, I felt none of His weight — the Lord, the Holder of heaven and earth, to Whom belongs glory unto the ages of ages.
A certain rich man of Constantinople, who was very merciful and charitable, wherever he passed, in the city or outside it, was always surrounded by the poor. He would seem to push them aside and drive them from him, while in truth he was putting alms into their hands. He did so in order to hide his good deed from men. But when he met a poor man alone, then he would kiss his hand and so give the alms. * * *
Once a close friend asked him how he had become so merciful. And he told him: when I was small, about ten years old, I once went into a church to pray. There a certain God-inspired elder was preaching and teaching the people that alms given to a poor man is a loan to Christ. I did not believe his words and thought: as I have heard, Christ is in heaven, at the right hand of the Father; how then will He take a loan from the earth? With these thoughts I set off for home. On the road there was walking a certain ragged beggar. And above his head I saw clearly that our Lord Jesus Christ was standing. Suddenly a certain merciful man met the beggar and gave him bread. When the beggar stretched out his hand to take it, together with him the Saviour also stretched out His hand to the giver of alms and took the bread. Then, face to face, He blessed him there. Seeing this, I believed that he who gives alms to a poor man gives them to Christ. Even now there stands before my eyes the face of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who stands beside the poor; I am encompassed with the fear of God and inwardly kindled with love for Him. I have a desire to give alms, and according to my strength I give them, for alms are not a giving to a poor man, but a giving to Christ, to Whom be glory unto the ages of ages.
A righteous and merciful man named Martian kept no property at all, but gave everything to the poor and to strangers on the road. Once, when he had already given away everything and had nothing left but a knife and his clothing, a naked beggar met him at the city gate and asked alms. Seeing him, Martian was greatly troubled. And he had nothing to give but that one garment which was upon him. He took his knife, cut that garment in two, clothed the naked beggar with one half, and put the other half on again himself. For this many reproached him, but that night in his sleep Christ appeared to him, surrounded by a multitude of angels. And upon Him was that very garment which Martian had put on the beggar. The Saviour said to him: O Martian, I shall clothe thee with this glorious garment and give thee the Kingdom of Heaven for thine inheritance. At these words Martian awoke and glorified the Lord. After this he laboured again without sloth and gave alms abundantly. Therefore he was pleasing to God, and the Lord gave him the grace of wonderworking — to raise the dead, to heal the sick and to drive out demons. And then he departed in peace to the Lord and reigns unto the ages of ages.
A certain Christian woman had a heathen husband. They were poor. They had in all fifty pieces of silver. The husband said to his wife: if we spend this at once, then afterward we shall have nothing left. Let us lend it out at interest, that we may take a profit. The good woman answered: if thou wouldest have it return to thee with profit, give it to the God of the Christians. The husband said to her: tell me where He is, and I shall give it. The woman answered: if thou wilt lend it to Him at interest, I shall show thee. Know that thou wilt lose nothing, but wilt receive still more. The husband agreed. The woman led him into a church, showed him the poor and said: give them this silver. The God of the Christians will receive it from them, for they are all His. The man with joy distributed those fifty pieces of silver to the poor, and the couple returned home.
Three months later their food ran out. The husband asked his wife: our food is altogether gone, and is the God of the Christians not going to give us any profit on our loan? The woman answered: go to the place where thou didst lend it, and He will give thee as much as is due thee, and it will suffice us.
The man went to the church where he had given the silver to the poor. He went all round it and found no one who would pay him interest. There sat only one beggar. At last he resolved to ask him, but, looking down before him, he saw that at his feet upon the marble lay one piece of silver. He took it and went home. Amazed, he told his wife: I went to your church, as thou didst tell me. The God of the Christians I found nowhere, and He gave me nothing; but there, where I distributed those fifty pieces of silver to the poor, behold, this one piece of silver was lying. The wise woman said to him: it was He Himself Who gave it thee unseen. Unseen is God, and by unseen power He governs the world. Now go, my lord, buy with it some food, that we may dine. He will give thee another time also.
This man went, bought with that piece of silver bread, wine and a fish, and brought them to his wife. When the woman cut open the fish's belly and took out the entrails, she found there a precious stone. She did not understand what it was and kept it. When her husband came, she showed him this stone and said: my lord, here is what was in the fish's belly. The man, seeing it, marvelled at its brilliance. Neither did he understand what stone it was, but he resolved to sell it.
He went to a buyer of precious stones and asked him: wilt thou buy this stone? The merchant answered: at how much dost thou value it? The man answered: thou knowest its price better. Then the merchant offered him five drachmas. This man thought he was being mocked and was surprised. The merchant decided that this was too little and raised it to ten drachmas. The man still found it laughable and said nothing. So the merchant raised the price to thirty and to fifty. Then the man thought: if this stone were not very precious, he would not offer me fifty drachmas, — and began to value it highly. In the end the merchant paid him three hundred drachmas. This man gave him the stone and returned home rejoicing.
His wife asked him for how much he had sold it. He showed her gold and silver to the sum of three hundred drachmas: this is for how much I sold it. The faithful woman marvelled at God's love for mankind and glorified His goodness. To her husband she said: seest thou how man-loving and good is the God of the Christians. He has given thee not fifty pieces of silver, but far more. Know, my lord, that neither in heaven nor upon earth is there any other God but He. He alone is the true God. After this her husband also was baptised and became a Christian. Thus were fulfilled the words of the apostle: “The unbelieving husband is sanctified by the believing wife.” From that day he always had mercy on the poor, for by the way of almsgiving he found the light of truth, and he glorified our God unto the ages of ages.
In his youth the hierarch Tychon, bishop of Amathus (fifth century), lived in his parents' house. His father set him to sell bread, and by this he fed the family. The son began to give bread to those in need without payment. When his father learned of this, he was grieved, grew angry and began to scold him. The devout youth said: “In vain art thou angry, father; I have given the loaves in loan to God, and I have His unfailing handwriting in the holy books: ‘Give to God, and thou shalt receive a hundredfold.’ If thou believest not my words, let us go and see in the granary how God pays His debt to His creditors.”
Father and son went to the granary, and there everything was found full of wheat. The amazed father fell on his face, worshipped God, thanked Him, and after this no longer forbade his son to give alms to the poor.
Boniface the Merciful, bishop of Ferentino (sixth century), was from childhood a protector of the poor. When it happened that he saw someone unclothed, he would take off his own clothing and give it him, while he himself sometimes returned home without his outer or his inner garment.
His mother was a poor widow and therefore often grew angry and said: “Thou dost not act rightly, my son: thou art poor thyself, and thou clothest the poor.”
Once, when she went into the granary where they baked bread for the whole summer, she found it empty, for Boniface had secretly from his mother given everything away to the poor.
The woman began to weep, beat her face and said: “What shall I do now, whence shall I get bread for the whole summer? With what shall I and the whole house be fed?” Boniface tried with words to calm his mother, but because of her boundless grief he could not. Therefore he asked her to go out of the granary for a little while.
The mother went out, Boniface bolted the door, fell to the ground and offered up a prayer to God. Suddenly the granary was filled with wheat. He gave thanks to God, and then called his mother and showed her the granary full of wheat. The mother was calmed and glorified the Lord. From that time she no longer forbade her son to give alms to the poor, seeing that by the strength of her son's great faith they did not grow poor through giving alms, and received what they asked of the Lord.
* * * * * * (continued)
The superior of a certain monastery was distinguished by every virtue and was merciful to the poor. Day and night he offered up to God this prayer: “O Lord! I am a sinner, but I hope in Thy mercy. By Thy mercy I trust in salvation. I entreat Thee, Master, do not separate me from my brethren in the age to come; set them too with me in Thy Kingdom.”
Long the man-loving superior prayed, and the Lord revealed His will to him in this way: in another house near them the patronal feast was drawing near; the superior was invited with his brethren. He did not wish to go out of his own monastery, but in his sleep he heard a heavenly voice: “Go, but send thy disciples before thee, and go thyself after them.”
When the day of the feast came, the brethren went to the meal and on the way saw a poor, ragged man who was scarcely breathing. To their question what ailed him, the wretched man in the voice of a dying man barely answered:
— I was walking along the road, but a beast fell upon me, tore me and left me, and no one has come to take me to the village.
— We are in haste, — the monks answered, — we can in no wise help.
With these words they went on their way.
Soon the superior passed by the same place and saw the poor man groaning. Learning what had befallen him, he asked:
— Did not monks pass by here a short while ago? Did they not see thee?
— They were here, — answered the sick man, — they learned what had happened to me and went on; they said they could not take me on their shoulders and carry me.
— Canst thou follow me slowly? — asked the superior, grieved at the monks' conduct.
— I cannot, — answered the poor man.
— Then sit upon my shoulders, — said the superior, — with God's help I shall carry thee...
Long the exhausted poor man refused, saying that a long road lay ahead and that he was heavy. He asked that someone be sent from the village to fetch him, but the God-pleasing superior, notwithstanding all, took him up in his arms and carried him. At first he felt an ordinary human weight, and then the burden grew lighter and lighter, and at last it was as though there were no weight at all upon his shoulders. The superior did not know what to think; suddenly the feeble old man vanished, and from heaven a voice was heard: “Thou always prayest for thy disciples, that they may enter with thee into the Kingdom of Heaven; but their deeds are other than thine. Teach them therefore to walk in thy footsteps; otherwise they will not attain the Kingdom of Heaven. I am the righteous Judge, and to each I shall render according to his deeds.”
During the famine of 1917 the monks of the Athonite monastery of Iviron, seeing that the monastery's stores were emptying, limited the receiving of guests. One miserly proestos even insistently demanded that they stop receiving pilgrims. After this Christ too ceased to have mercy on them. Hunger seized the fathers. They uttered reproaches that the Lord and the Mother of God no longer cared for their own house. Sadly, they did not recognise their own sins.
And one day Christ appeared to the monastery gatekeeper in the form of a beggar and asked for a little bread. The gatekeeper answered him with sorrow:
— We have no bread, brother; that is why we have stopped receiving those who come. But wait, I shall bring thee a piece of my own bread from my cell.
He ran to his cell and brought him a small piece of bread. Suddenly the gatekeeper saw how the beggar's face shone.
The beggar took the bread and said to the gatekeeper:
— Do you know why such a misfortune has come upon the monastery? Because you have driven out of the monastery two: “give” and “it shall be given you”.
After these words he became invisible, and in so doing lit up all around with such a light that the monastery gatekeeper's eyes were darkened. Confused and seized with fear, he ran to the superiors of the house and told them what had happened. The fathers at first recalled with great difficulty whom they had driven out of the monastery. But then they understood that this beggar was Christ, and they remembered the words of the Gospel: “Give, and it shall be given unto you” (Luke 6:38).
After this they repented of their sin without delay, and as soon as they began to give out of their small store, God's bountiful mercy was renewed also.
