As we have mentioned, let us present Him with an envoy comprised of our tears, gifts, and sacred offerings. For the singular sacrifice from the holy altar, meant for our cleansing, intercedes for us with heartfelt sorrow, reminding us that He, who has risen from the dead and cannot die again, bears our suffering in His Sacrament. Each time we present Him with the sacrifice of His Passion, we renew His suffering for our purification.
Many of you, beloved brethren, might recall a story I wish to remind you of. Not long ago, it was known that a man was captured by his enemies and taken far into exile. After enduring a long imprisonment, his wife, due to not seeing him return, believed him to be dead. Each Sabbath, she diligently offered sacrifices on his behalf as though he had passed away. In fact, for every time she prayed and sacrificed for the salvation of his soul, so often did his chains fall from him in captivity. When he eventually returned, he recounted to his wife in astonishment that on certain days—each Sabbath—his chains had miraculously been released. Reflecting on those specific times, she realized her offerings corresponded with his freedom from bondage. Therefore, beloved brethren, consider the profound impact our sacrifices can have in loosening the chains that bind our hearts, especially when a single offering can liberate another from physical fetters.
Many of you also knew Cassius from the city of Narnien. He was devoted to offering daily sacrifices to God, typically not allowing a day to pass without presenting atonement on behalf of the Almighty. His way of living was deeply intertwined with his sacrifices. He distributed all he had as alms, and when he approached the altar, he bathed himself in tears reflecting his broken spirit. I learned about both his life and death from a reputable deacon who had once been his disciple. This deacon shared that one night, the Lord appeared to the presbyter in a vision, instructing him to inform the bishop to labor diligently; he would come to the Lord on the day of the apostles' martyrdom and receive his reward. The presbyter awoke but hesitated to reveal the prophecy due to its imminent fulfillment.
On the subsequent night, the Lord appeared once more, chastising him for his disobedience, reiterating the command. The presbyter awoke again but faltered in his resolve to share the revelation. Eventually, in a show of divine retribution reflecting the gravity of his refusal, the Lord appeared a third time, and the presbyter suffered violence, leading to a softening of his hardened heart. Consequently, strengthened by this discipline, he rushed to the bishop during the customary sacrifice at the tomb of St. Juvenal the Martyr, seeking a private moment to fall at his feet. When the bishop noticed the tears streaming down his face and inquired about their cause, the presbyter tearfully disclosed the disturbing revelations he had received. First, removing his garments, he exposed the bodily marks of the punishment he had endured, revealing his injuries that demonstrated the intensity of his suffering. The bishop, horrified at the sight, demanded to know who had laid such violence upon him. The presbyter clarified that he had borne this affliction for the bishop's sake.
As astonishment turned into fear, the presbyter, undeterred, disclosed the details of the vision, recounting the Lord's commands he had heard: 'Do what you do; labor as you labor; let not your foot fail; let not your hand cease; on the day of the apostles' martyrdom, you shall come to Me, and I will reward you.' The bishop, upon hearing this, entered into fervent prayer, and from the third hour until the ninth hour, extended his plea in heartfelt devotion. From that day forth, he multiplied his acts of piety and became fervent in his ecclesiastical duties, recognizing his accountability towards the promise given to him. Customarily, he journeyed to Rome every year on the day commemorating the apostles' martyrdom, but following the revelation, he chose to forego the journey. In those days, preoccupied with thoughts of his impending death, he became anxious for several successive years. Doubting the vision's truth, he remained unsettled until, in the seventh year, he arrived at the sacred vigil of the anticipated day of his passing, feeling a profound sorrow. On the day of his passing, he chose not to celebrate the solemn Liturgy for his waiting congregation. Yet, sensing their despair at the prospect of not being comforted by the Holy Sacrifice, he was moved to conduct the Liturgy in the bishop's chapel. With his own hands, he offered the Body of Christ and imparted peace to all.
During the entire duration of the Liturgy, he returned to his bed, observing his priests and fellow laborers, as if to offer his final exhortation. He urged them to maintain their loving unity and instructed them on how they should be united. Just then, in the midst of this holy encouragement, he suddenly cried out: it is time. Immediately, extending his hands towards those present, he provided them with the cloth customarily used to cover the faces of those passing. Having wrapped himself in it, he surrendered his spirit, transitioning from this life into eternal joy. To whom, beloved brethren, did this man, if not the One he had emulated in his life, mirror in his death? For as he declared, 'It is time,' he departed the body, similar to how Jesus, having fulfilled all things, proclaimed, 'It is finished!' and bowed His head to surrender His spirit (John 19:30). What the Lord achieved by divine authority, the servant enacted in compliance with His calling. This is the gracious peace that our ongoing supplication to the coming King, expressed through sacrifices, acts of mercy, and heartfelt tears, aims to bestow! Therefore, let anyone capable leave everything behind; and for those who cannot, let them still send forth a plea while the King is distant, presenting gifts of tears, alms, and sacrifices to Him. For He, whose wrath cannot be staved off, desires to be reconciled through our prayers. This very act prolongs His awaited coming and sustains our overtures for peace. For had He wished to do so, He would have already come to enact judgment upon His adversaries. Yet, He expresses how dreadful that coming will be but delays it, desiring to find none deserving of punishment.
THEOSIS