In sanctum Julianum martyrem

Encomium on the Holy Martyr Julian. 1. If on earth such are the honors for the martyrs, after their departure from here, what kind of crowns are woven in the heavens for their holy heads? If before the resurrection there is such glory, how great is the splendor after the resurrection? If from their fellow servants they enjoy such care, how much goodwill will they obtain from the Master? If we, the wicked, know how to honor and be amazed at those among our fellow servants who succeed, because they struggled for Christ, how much more will our heavenly Father give countless goods to those who have labored for him? For he is generous and benevolent; but it is not for this reason alone that great honors await them, but also because he is their debtor. The martyrs were not slaughtered for us, and yet we flock to honor them. But if we, for whom they were not slaughtered, flock to them, what will Christ, for whom they laid down their heads, not do? If to those to whom he owed nothing he gave so many goods, with how many gifts will he not reward those to whom he is a debtor? Before this, he owed nothing to the world; for all have sinned, says Paul, and are deprived of the glory of God; rather, he owed punishment and retribution; but nevertheless, owing us punishment and retribution, he granted eternal life. If, then, to those to whom he owed punishment he gave a kingdom, what will he not give to those to whom he owes eternal life? And with how many honors will he not honor them? If he was crucified and shed his blood for those who hated him, what will he not do for those who shed their blood because of their confession of faith in him?

If he so loved those who turned away from him and recoiled, that he even died for them, how will he receive with goodwill and service those who loved him to the greatest degree? (For no one has a love greater than this, that one should lay down his life for his friends.) Now the athletes of external contests both wrestle, and conquer, and are proclaimed, and are crowned in the same arena; but these athletes of piety are not so: rather, they wrestled in the present age, but are crowned in that future one; they boxed here against the devil and prevailed, but are proclaimed there. And that you may learn that this is true, and that the crowns are not given to them here, but all the rewards await them there, listen to Paul saying, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith; henceforth the crown of righteousness is laid up for me." Where and when? "Which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day." Here he ran, there he is crowned; here he conquered, and there he is proclaimed. You have heard him even today crying out and saying, "All these died according to faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them from afar and greeted them." Why then is it that for the athletes of external contests both the victories and the crowns come together, but for the athletes of piety the victories and the crowns do not come together, but after so great an interval of time? They sweated, they labored here, they endured countless wounds, and does he not crown them immediately? No, he says.

For the nature of this present life does not admit the magnitude of that honor; this present age is perishable and short, while that one is infinite, immortal, and unending. For this reason he assigned the labors to the short and temporary age, but stored up the crowns for the ageless and immortal one, so that the burdensomeness of the labors might be cut short, being dissolved along with the brevity of time, and the enjoyment of the crowns might remain lasting and unending, extending along with the immortality of those infinite ages. Wishing, therefore, to honor them more greatly, he deferred the gift; but not for this reason alone, but also so that they might henceforth have a pure pleasure. For just as one who first lives in luxury and enjoys ease, but afterwards is afflicted, does not perceive his present luxury because of the expectation of future evils, so one who first fights, and struggles, and endures countless evils, but afterwards is crowned, does not perceive his present evils, being revived by the hope of future goods. Not only did he lighten their present labor by future hope, but also by arranging that the affliction come before the ease in order, so that they might not be excessively strained by present evils while looking toward those things. Thus also boxers receive their wounds eagerly, looking not at the pains but at the crown.

So also sailors, enduring countless dangers—storms, a fierce battle, arrayed against wild beasts and the villains of the sea—count none of these as anything, but look to the harbors and the wealth from trade. So also the martyrs, suffering countless horrors, their bodies cut by various tortures, looked to none of these, but to heaven and the goods gaping from there. And that you may learn that things naturally burdensome and unbearable become light and easy through hope of future things, hear the chief of such goods saying: "The immediate lightness of the affliction, to an extreme degree, produces for us an eternal weight of glory." How, tell me? By our not looking at what is seen, but at what is not seen. 2. These things have not been said to you idly, but for your sake, so that when you see someone living in luxury and enjoying ease in this life, but destined to be punished there, you do not count him blessed because of his present luxury, but count him wretched because of the future punishment. And again, when you see someone destined to enjoy great honor there, while in affliction and distress and countless evils in this temporary life, do not weep because of the present horrors, but count him blessed and consider him enviable because of the crowns laid up for him in those infinite ages. Now, this holy man was brought forth by the nation of the Cilicians, which also brought forth Paul; for he was a fellow citizen of his, and both were set before us as ministers of the Church from that place.

Since the stadium of piety was open and the time called him to the contests, he falls in with a harsh beast, the judge of that time. And consider the contrivance. For seeing his resolve firm and that it was not possible by the severity of punishment to loosen the tension of his zeal, he casts him into delays and postponements, continually bringing him in and out. For he did not cut off his head on a single day after hearing him, so that the brevity of the punishment might not make his course easier, but each day he brought him in, led him out, applied interrogations, threatened countless tortures, lured with flattering words, moved every device, attempting to shake the unshakable foundation; and he led him around for a whole year throughout all of Cilicia, disgracing him, or rather, as he did not think, making him more illustrious. And the martyr cried out, in harmony with Paul, "Thanks to God who triumphs over us in Christ Jesus and reveals the fragrance of his knowledge through us in every place." For just as myrrh, while it lies in one place, fills only that air with its fragrance, but when it is brought out to many places, it fills all with its own virtue; so also it happened then with the martyr. For he was led around as if about

to be put to shame, the opposite occurred: the athlete became more radiant through that procession, and made all the inhabitants of the land of the Cilicians zealous for their own virtue. He was led about everywhere, so that the spectators might not only learn of the struggles by hearsay, but also see the victor himself; and the longer the judge made his courses, the more brilliant all his runs became; the greater the contests he set, the more admirable he revealed the struggles; the more he prolonged the affliction over time, the more he rendered his endurance proven. For gold, when it spends more time in the nature of fire, becomes purer; just so then the soul of the saint, tormented by time, shone forth all the more, and he carried about nothing else but a trophy against himself and the devil—the martyr, a reproach of the cruelty of the Greeks, a demonstration of the piety of the Christians, the greatest proof of the power of Christ, an exhortation and counsel to the faithful to persevere eagerly in the same contests, a herald of the glory of God, a teacher of the knowledge of such struggles.

He was urging everyone to migrate to their own zeal, advising not only through his voice, but also sending forth a voice more brilliant than a trumpet through the very things themselves. And just as the heavens proclaim the glory of God, not by emitting a voice, but by the brilliance of their appearance, sending the spectator to wonder at the creator, so too did that martyr then proclaim the glory of God, being himself a heaven, and much more radiant than this visible one. For the choruses of the stars do not make the heaven so bright as the ichors of the wounds made the martyr's body more brilliant. And that you may learn that the wounds of the martyr are more brilliant than the stars fixed in heaven, consider this. To that heaven and its stars both men and demons look, but to the wounds of this one, faithful men look, while demons dare not look back, and if they attempt to see, they are immediately blinded in their eyes, unable to bear the radiance leaping forth from there. And I will confirm this not only from events of old, but also from those still happening now. Take someone possessed and raging, and bring him to that holy tomb where the martyr's relics are, and you will certainly see him leaping back and fleeing. For just as if about to step on coals, so he immediately leaps away from the very threshold, not daring even to look back at the shrine itself.

But if now, after so long a time, when he has become dust and ash, they dare not look upon the tomb, nor upon the bare bones of the saint, it is evident that even then, when they saw him stained with blood on all sides, gleaming with wounds more than the sun with its rays, they were struck with awe, and, smitten in their eyes, they withdrew. Do you see how the wounds of the martyrs are brighter and more wondrous than the stars of heaven, and have greater power? The saint was then led into the midst, and bitter torments stood around on every side: fear of what was to come, pain of what was present, grief of what had befallen, anguish of what was expected. For like wild beasts, the executioners, standing around his body, dug into his sides, lacerated his flesh, laid bare his bones, and advanced into the very interior of his entrails. Yet, though they searched everything, they could not plunder the treasure of faith. Now in the case of royal treasuries, where gold and other unspeakable wealth are stored, if you merely break through the walls, if you open the doors, you immediately see the treasure lying before you; but here, in the case of this holy and Christ-bearing temple, the opposite occurred. The executioners broke through the walls,

and they broke open his chest, and the wealth stored within they neither saw nor were able to take; but what those in Sodom suffered, standing at the very door of Lot's house yet finding no entrance—so too these men searched the martyr's body from every side, yet could not lay hold of the treasure nor empty the wealth of faith. Such are the achievements of the saints' souls, inalienable and unconquerable, stored as in some inviolable place in the courage of the soul, and neither the eyes of tyrants see them nor the hands of executioners can seize them; but even if they cut open the heart itself, which is especially entrusted with the soul's courage, even if they cut it into small pieces, not even thus do they empty the wealth, but rather increase it. And the cause is God, who dwells in such souls; and one who makes war on God can never conquer, but must go away mocked and shamefully defeated. For this reason, even then the opposite of what was usual occurred. For everywhere else, deeds prevail over words; but then words prevailed over deeds. How? They brought fire and iron and tortures; they brought punishments, torments, scourges; they dug through the ribs from every side, and the sufferer remained unconquered; he only spoke, and uttered a mere voice, and a word prevailed over deeds.

The holy voice of the martyr's mouth went forth, and drew with it a light brighter than the sun's ray. This light is as great as the distance from heaven to earth; or rather, not even this whole distance can it traverse when a roof, or a wall, or a cloud, or some other body intervenes, but its forward motion is blocked and walled off by such obstacles. But the martyr's voice, leaping forth from that holy tongue, sprang up into heaven. It passed beyond the heaven of heaven; angels saw it and gave way, archangels and stood aside; the cherubim and the other powers guided it upward, and did not desist until they led it to the royal throne itself. After this voice, when the judge of that time saw that all his devices were in vain and futile, that he was kicking against the goads and striking adamant, what does he do? He proceeds to his acknowledged defeat and removes the martyr from the present life; for the death of martyrs is a clear defeat for the slayers, but a brilliant victory for those slain. Now observe how he devised a manner of his end that was harsh and bitter, sufficient to display both his own cruelty and the martyr's courage. What then was the manner of punishment? He brought a sack, filled it with sand, and put in scorpions, snakes, vipers, and dragons, and cast the saint in with them, and threw it into the sea. And the martyr was with wild beasts, and was again shut in with wild beasts—a righteous man.

Again I speak, that you may recall to me the ancient story concerning Daniel. They shut him in a pit, but they cast this one into a sack; they placed a stone upon it then, but this one sewed up the sack, making the prison narrower for the righteous man. Yet everywhere the beasts reverence the bodies of the saints, to the shame and accusation of those honored by reason, and who have been deemed worthy to be men, but who conceal their own savagery by the excess of their bestiality; such, it is likely, was this tyrant as well. And one could see a marvelous wonder, no less than in the case of Daniel. For just as they then marveled when they saw Daniel, after many days, come up from the lions' den, so the angels marveled, seeing Julian's soul ascending from the sack and the waves into heaven. Daniel overcame and conquered two lions, but perceptible ones; this one overcame and conquered one lion, but an intelligible one. For the enemy, it is said, our adversary the devil, goes about roaring like a lion.

seeking whom he might devour. But he was defeated by the courage of the martyr; for he laid aside the venom of sin, and therefore did not devour him. For this reason he feared neither the lion nor the rage of the beasts. 4. Do you wish me to tell another ancient story, where there was a righteous man and beasts? Recall the flood in the time of Noah and the ark; for then too there were both a righteous man and beasts together. But Noah entered as a man and came out as a man; Julian entered as a man and came out as an angel. The former entered from the earth and came out again to the earth; this one entered from the earth into a sack, and from the sack departed to heaven. The sea took him, not to kill him, but to crown him, and after the crown it gave back to us this holy ark, the body of the martyr. This we hold until the present day, a treasury of countless good things. For God has shared the martyrs with us, taking their souls himself, and giving us their bodies, so that we might have a perpetual reminder of virtue in their holy bones. For if someone sees the bloodstained weapons of an athlete—shield, spear, and breastplate—even if he be the most sluggish of all, he immediately leaps up, becomes more fervent, and rushes to war, having taken encouragement from the sight of the weapons to attempt the same deeds.

We, not seeing weapons, but the very body of the saint, which was deemed worthy to be bloodied for the confession in Christ, even if we are the most timid of all, how shall we not have great eagerness, as if some fire from this sight were falling into our mind and summoning us to the same contest? For this reason God has deposited the bodies of the saints with us until the time of the resurrection, that we might have a subject for the greatest philosophy. But let the praises of the martyr not be diminished by the weakness of our tongue, but let them remain with God the judge of the contest. He who crowns them will also praise them; for their praise is not from men, but from God. And indeed these things we have said, not to show the martyr more brilliant, but to make you more eager. But we, leaving aside the encomia, turn the entire discourse to you; or rather, it is not possible to leave aside encomia of martyrs when one speaks in church about what is beneficial. But pay attention; for I wish to cut out a wicked and ancient custom today, so that we may not only attend the martyrs, but also imitate martyrs. For honor of martyrs is not merely to attend them, but before this, to emulate their courage. Therefore I must first speak of the wicked custom; for when the disease is unknown, it is not easy to apply a remedy; for this reason I first uncover the wound, and then apply the medicine. What then is the wicked custom?

Some of those gathered here today (for may it not be that I condemn the whole Church with such a condemnation) through some laziness and thoughtlessness abandon us tomorrow and leap off to Daphne, pouring out today what we have gathered, and tearing down what we have built. So that their presence here may not be fruitless, after discussing these matters a little we will conclude the discourse. Why are you hastening to the suburb of the city, tell me? Behold the suburb of the heavenly Jerusalem; behold a spiritual Daphne: there are springs of waters, here springs of martyrs; there are cypresses, fruitless trees, here are relics of saints and roots planted below, stretching their branches to heaven. Do you wish to see the fruit of these branches? Open for us the eyes of faith, and I will immediately show you a nature of wondrous fruits. For it is not of summer fruits and tree-fruits, nor anything else of those perishable and destructible things that the fruit of these branches consists, but of bodies

The healing of inflamed souls, the forgiveness of sins, the eradication of vice, the therapy of the soul's diseases, fervent prayer, boldness before God—all spiritual things, full of heavenly goods. These fruits, ever harvested, ever abound, and never abandon their own cultivators. Trees that grow on the earth give their yield once a year, and if you do not harvest, when the season of winter comes, they lose their own beauty, the fruit perishing and falling off; but these know neither winter nor summer, are subject to no constraint of seasons, nor is it possible to see them bare of their own fruits, but they stand always in the same beauty; corruption does not touch them, nor the change of seasons. How many, indeed, since this body was planted in the earth, have reaped countless healings from this holy shrine, and the fruit has not failed; they have reaped the harvest, and the ears of grain have not been consumed; they have drawn from the springs, and the streams have not been emptied, but there is a continuous flow, never failing, but always providing the gushing wonder more than what is drawn off. It not only works wonders, but also persuades one to philosophize. For if you are rich, and think highly of yourself, and have your soul inflamed, coming here and seeing the martyr, and considering the difference between your wealth and his abundance, you will immediately calm your swelling, and putting aside your inflammation, you will depart with great health in your soul.

If you think you are poor and contemptible, by coming and seeing the wealth of the martyr, and by laughing at external riches, you will depart having filled yourself with much philosophy. And if injuries, losses, or scourges are inflicted upon you, seeing that you have not yet suffered as much as this holy martyr, you will again receive sufficient consolation from this. You see what fruits these roots bear: how indestructible, how spiritual, how they touch the soul itself. I do not forbid going to the suburb, but I forbid it tomorrow. Why? So that the pleasure may have no reproach, so that the delight may be pure, and reproach not steal in. For it is possible on another day both to indulge in pleasure and to be freed from sin. But if you wish to enjoy pleasure even now, what is more pleasant than this gathering? What is more graceful than this spiritual theater? Than your own limbs? Than the company of the brethren? But do you also wish to partake of a bodily table? Here, after the gathering is dismissed, it is possible, having lodged near the martyrion under a fig tree and a vine, both to grant rest to the body and to free the conscience from reproach.

The martyr, seen from nearby, being close and standing at the very table, does not allow pleasure to be poured out into sin, but like a tutor or an excellent father, seen with the eyes of faith, he restrains laughter, cuts off improper pleasures, and removes all the leaping of the flesh, which it is not possible to escape there. Why? Because tomorrow choruses of men take over the suburb; and the sight of such people often draws even one who wishes to be self-controlled, unwillingly, toward imitation of the same indecency, especially when the devil is also present among them; for he is present, summoned by licentious songs, by shameful words, by the demonic procession. But you renounced all this procession, and you enlisted in the service of Christ on that day when you were deemed worthy of the sacred mysteries. Remember, then, those words and that covenant, and flee from transgression.

5. I wish to speak also to those who are present and not going up, and to entrust to them the salvation of those others. For a physician, entering to see the sick man, speaks a few words to the patient; but concerning drugs and foods and the rest of the treatment, he calls those who are related to him and entrusts everything to them. Why so? Because the sick man does not readily accept the advice, while the healthy man attends to what is said with great eagerness; for this reason I wish to speak with these and with you. Let us tomorrow anticipate the gates, let us lie in wait on the roads, men for men, women for women, let us drag them down from their beasts of burden; let us bring them back here, let us not be ashamed; where a brother's salvation is at stake, there is no shame. If they are not ashamed to go up to the unlawful procession, much more ought we not to be ashamed to bring them back to this sacred festival. When a brother's salvation is at stake, let us plead nothing. For if Christ died for us, we must endure everything for them; even if they strike blows, even if they revile, hold fast, and do not desist until you bring them back to the holy martyr; even if it is necessary to convene a court from among the passersby, let those who wish hear: "Brother," say, "I wish to save you, I see a soul being destroyed, and I cannot bear to overlook the kinship; let whoever wishes accuse, let whoever wishes denounce; rather, no one will accuse, but all will praise, all will embrace.

For it is not over money, nor in defense of personal enmity, nor for any other worldly matter that I contend and strive, but for a brother's salvation. Who will not approve of this? Who will not marvel at it? No kinship of the flesh has made us more loving to one another than spiritual kinship. If you wish, let us take the martyr with us; for he is not ashamed to come and save the brothers. Let us set him before their eyes, so that they may fear him present, and feel shame before him as he entreats and beseeches; for he is not ashamed to entreat. For if his Master entreats our nature—"We are ambassadors for Christ," says Paul, as God entreats through us, "Be reconciled to God"—much more will the servant do this. One thing alone grieves him: our destruction; one thing gladdens him: our salvation; and for this reason he will refuse to do nothing for it. Therefore let us not be ashamed either, nor think it superfluous. For if men, hunters, go to cliffs and mountains and ravines and every inaccessible place, whether for a hare or a gazelle or some other such thing, or even for wild birds, often wishing to hunt these—will you, who are about to bring back not a worthless animal but a spiritual brother, for whom Christ died, from destruction, and not mountains and glens but only go out the gate, shrink back and blush? And what excuse, tell me, will you have? Do you not hear some wise man exhorting and saying, "Is there a shame that brings sin?" But do you fear that someone will reproach you?

Transfer the cause to me, the one who spoke; say that the teacher commanded thus. I am ready to be judged by those who bring accusations and to render an account. Rather, no one will bring an accusation against you or against me, even if he is exceedingly shameless; but all will accept and marvel at our solicitude—not only those in our own country, but also those dwelling in the neighboring cities—because such a tyranny of love exists among us, such a zeal of affection. But why do I speak of men? The Master of the angels himself will accept us. Knowing the reward, then, let us not despise the hunt, nor return alone tomorrow; but let each one come having his catch with him. If you only arrive at that hour when, leaving the house, he sets out on the road, and you turn him toward the arrival here, there will be no further difficulty; but when the moment has passed, he will feel great gratitude toward you, and all others will praise and admire you. And what is most important of all—

It is greater: the Master of the heavens will provide you with many rewards for these things, and He will multiply this commerce and this praise. Therefore, considering the profit that accrues to us from that source, let us all pour out before the city, and taking hold of our brothers, let us bring them back here, so that tomorrow the theatre may be full for us and the festival thus completed; so that on account of this zeal here, the holy martyr may receive us into the eternal tabernacles with great confidence. May it be granted to all of us to attain this, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom glory is to the Father, together with the holy and life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.