MGH, Passiones vitaeque sanctorum aevi Merovingici (SRM III, 1896), pp. 502–517 — modern British English translation. The editor’s Latin preface is rendered in English.
The editor’s preface (B. Krusch, rendered) #
Jonas, the father of the monastery’s disciples — in the village of Ternod in the territory of the city of Langres — on his way to Chalon-sur-Saône by command of King Clothar [III] and his mother Balthild, being wearied with toil, rested a few days; and conquered by the prayers of the brethren, he dedicated to the venerable Hunnan, abbot of that same monastery, a written account of the saint’s active and contemplative life — whatever had been ascertained through his disciples and their successors.
John — as he testifies — was born in the territory of the fort of Ternod [Tonnerre], in the village called Quartaniacus, situated on the river Brenne, of parents not ignoble: his father Hilary, his mother Quieta. When about twenty years old, having founded a tiny oratory on his native soil, he afterwards occupied it as a monastery. When monks flocked there from all sides and their number increased, judging it better to obey others than to rule, he left the monastery and came to Lérins, where the regular discipline instituted by Honoratus still flourished. There, having served humbly and unknown for a year and a half, he was recognised by a certain stranger and recalled by Gregory, bishop of Langres, to the monastery he had left — for Gregory had sent two letters on that account, one to the community of Lérins, the other to the saint himself. He then trained the brethren to the rule of Macarius, assisted by the monk Filomerus — namely, that devoted to laborious works they should render the woodland places more fertile by tillage. Examples of this labour are adduced in the miracles which occupy especially the latter part of the Life, and there certain indications of date are found: Nicasius “administering the care of the republic” (ch. 11) — doubtless that count of the fort of Avallon who after Childebert’s death invited Bishop Germanus to dinner; the Italian expedition of King Theudebert (ch. 15), made in 539; and the severe pestilence (ch. 17) of 543. Since no later miracle is narrated, it is probable the saint died soon after, i.e. about 544, nor is credence to be given to the interpolation of the later text where 539 is given. He is said to have completed about 120 years, and was buried not far from the monastery within its bounds, in a place which, as is agreed, was formerly called “the Body of the Saint” (today Corsaint). His fame had hardly spread before this Life was written, though the neighbouring Sequanians — or rather Gregory of Tours — remembered Segestrus, founder of the monastery, who had visited him; and afterwards he was entered in the sacred calendar of the monastery of Ligueux on 28 January with these words: “St John, monk and abbot.” The blessed Silvester, abbot, who was translated on 28 January — the venerable Silvester, contemporary of Germanus of Paris (c. 555–576) — after him governed the monastery; and Mummolus, called Bonus, afterwards bishop of Langres, appointed Leubardinus with the brethren’s consent under the sacred charge. On the holy day 22 September the translation of John’s body was made to the place where it now is.
That Jonas is the author of the original Life is a reasonable opinion: the passage about the “republic” administered (ch. 2) sits ill with a man versed in Roman administration, nor can the difficulty be easily resolved that Gregory of Langres obtained the see about 424 [i.e. Gregory was bishop 506/7–539], since the biographer makes the saint nearly an octogenarian — nor is it strange, since the same faults Jonas elsewhere avoids, against which Cassian had argued. The example of Abbot Isaac seems so strenuously imitated that the biographer could almost be called a Collatianist; and in a short space the narrative may challenge the reader’s equity both in the journey and in labour.
Of the original Life of John, only two codices have survived: (A1) Paris 11748, transferred from the library of St Maur-des-Fossés to that of St Germain-des-Prés, largest format, 10th century — but damaged by damp, so that a great part of the preface and the chapter-wish cannot be read, and in chapters 14–15 only shreds of letters are discernible; (A2) Paris 5306 (Colbert 775, Regius), of the same age — whose scribe, much more recent in manner, freely altered the old and ill-corrected diction at his own pleasure, and deserves less trust. What survives in A1 is transmitted accurately enough, nor have I departed from that book except rarely, following it even in orthography. Fortunately, therefore, it happened that for emending the text not a few aids could be used where A1 failed. For in the Carolingian age Jonas’s book was revised in the saint’s own monastery by two falsifiers. The first author (B) not only polished the diction but better arranged the narrative, determined the uncertain, boldly supplied omissions by his own effort, cut other things, admitting only three miracles — and that for a certain general conclusion — nor did he go beyond the saint’s death; he therefore rendered the sordid garment more splendid not without art, and to commend this he hid himself in an impudent lie, asserting that he himself had lived in the sixth century — and so before Jonas — in these words: “And lest anyone think what we say fabulous, we learned it by the relation of the venerable Agripinus the deacon, son of that same Agrestius” (cf. ch. 9 below). Since the interpolator of Gregory — namely the scribe of Bern codex 199, 9th century — had already read the false Life, it is likely the easy fluency is to be referred to the age of Charlemagne. Nor long after, author C — indignant that very many miracles had been omitted in B — wove a third Life out of A and B. He distributed the matter into two books, so that the first should hold text B with two miracles of A inserted in their place, the latter text A. The compiler copied his sources almost word for word — or rather the Life A, from which he had soon desisted revising — but expunged B’s homiletic passages and added others, and likewise determined the uncertain. About the origin of his work he followed his predecessor’s footsteps, or rather lied more impudently still: he contended that he himself had first described the deeds of John, “who had often seen him, on the witness of the memory of living and present men,” and that the miracle he added had been narrated by the saint concerning the food “in his own speech,” and the whole second book by his servant Laetus the deacon. The foolish man refuted his own lies by prefixing Jonas’s own prologues, from where both the date and the name of the true author are gathered. In the last chapter of the Life, which concerns Abbot Silvester, he both pillaged and cited Fortunatus’s Life of Germanus, ch. 35. Of the translations that follow, the former he drew from Jonas’s book; the other — which he affirmed was made “after some years” by Betto, bishop of Langres, at the end of the eighth century — he himself added, with certain miracles; and these were afterwards continued up to the third translation made in the time of the Northmen, i.e. 888. The compilation C therefore seems attributable to the first part of the ninth century.
Both Lives I have used in reviewing the original text: B — of which Surius (1581) printed an abridgement and from him Barralis (1613), Mabillon (1668) the whole — and C — edited by Roverius (Réomaus, Paris 1637) and the Bollandists (Jan. II), which I collated with the Metz codex 195 (11th century). Finally, the author of the Life of Trever — who fraudulently pillaged Jonas’s book — could also be used with good profit. By the help of these aids, in places read in only one codex where the other failed, I was more than once able to supply words omitted by error, which I have enclosed in brackets; and those which could be recovered only from C, where the writing of codex A1 has faded — especially in the preface and chapter-wish, in which much still remains to be restored — I have thus distinguished.
F. Stoher adjudged the original Life of John to Jonas with sure arguments, examining codex A1, and rightly expounded its relation to the later editions; but using an imperfect codex he could neither divine how much it profits historians nor prepare a critical edition. Chancing upon codex A2, I succeeded in repairing both defects.
— B. Krusch.
Here Begins the Life of Saint John, Monk and Abbot #
In the hundredth year after the completion of the number [cycle] of the holy bishop Victorius, which recapitulates the cycle — in the third year of the reign of the lord King Clothar of good memory, at the command of that same prince and his mother the most noble lady Queen Balthild — when the abbot Jonas was passing by the monastery of St John of Réôme on the way to the city of Chalon in the second week of the ninth month, he rested there a few days on account of the labour of the journey; and conquered by the prayers of the brethren of that community, he turned into a treatise the things which had been truly ascertained through the disciples of the said confessor of Christ, or through their successors, concerning his active life and spiritual contemplation — the aforementioned Jonas [dedicating it] to Abbot Hunnan, saying:
Preface of the Life of the Blessed John, Monk and Abbot #
Following the most excellent examples of the saints — which illuminated the city, brighter than light, both by teaching in word and by showing example — we ought with all zeal and all effort to declare them and lay them open to all when they have been ascertained: that so we may provoke to life eternal the minds of men entangled in the defects of men, and the souls of the simple joined to heavenly desire — while we ponder the labours and strivings of the priests who went before, of monks and fathers, for the mortification of our vices and the example of our minds’ intent — we lift up both our own hearts and the minds of others to their imitation, so that, Christ favouring, we may strive to undergo both the consolations of doctrine and the supplements of labours. Nor undeservedly do Christian praises uphold their virtues and religious deeds — who, flowering in one spirit with diversity of virtues, are also adorned with diverse multiplicities of gifts, according to that saying of Isaiah: “Who are these that fly as clouds and as doves to their windows?” For there is no doubt — according as the supplement of the reading shows the form of spiritual gifts, the trumpet of the Holy Spirit sounding — that as each in each, receiving gifts from the Creator’s largess according to merits, exercises the service of the divine name, so afterwards he receives the reward of merits.
The Chapters #
- Of his birth and conversion. — 2. Of his entry into the desert and the building of the monastery and the serpent slain. — 3. Of the concourse of religious brethren and the journey’s progress, and his going forth to Lérins. — 4. How under the discipline of the abbot of Lérins he bore the yoke of obedience, and recognised was bidden return home. — 5. Of his return and the help of his fellow Filomerus. — 6. Of his mother’s visit and his contempt of the pleasure of maternal longing. — 7. Of the axes found after theft. — 8. Of the half-naked poor man found. — 9. Of Agrestius’s scorn and his repentance. — 10. Of the messenger despised, sent to Clarus. — 11. How a servant was freed from a demon and restored to health. — 12. Of a certain man’s speechlessness. — 13. Of the gift of meal multiplied by God. — 14. Of Segonus, who secretly entered the church. — 15. Of the blessing given and the sick man healed. — 16. Of Claudius the monk, who saw the heavens opened. — 17. Of the water drawn from the well and the sick man restored. — 18. Of the kings’ visit, and the disobedience done to the man of the Lord, and the admonition and exhortation of his subjects. — 19. Of the most holy man’s death, and of the succession of Abbot Silvester and the translation. —
The Life of Saint John, Monk and Abbot #
We strive then to lay open with the pen, commending to memory, the life of the venerable man — the cult of the imitable religion of the blessed John, monk and abbot — what and how great contests of his labour he studied to undergo, and what noble examples he left by showing them to the memory of our age: that not only he might receive the fruit of his own labour, but might also draw each one to the imitation of his contest thereafter, teaching them after his glorious triumphs to take both the medicine of sins and the rewards of eternal life. From the very beginning, then, by what parents and in what place he arose are to be pursued. The venerable John was born within the bounds of the fort of Ternod [Tonnerre] — a place situated in the suburbs of the city of Langres — in the village called Quartaniacum upon the river Brenne; begotten of parents not ignoble, his father Hilary and his mother named Quieta, whose souls the cult of religion held chained and bound under all devotion of Christian fear; and he himself, even amid the first rudiments of his beginnings, both in boyhood and in adolescence, was reared and nourished by his parents under the cult of Christian vigour and religion.
And when he was about twenty years old, he began to seek in his mind things loftier and stricter than usual — that, leaving his native soil, he might especially show the affection of his mind, and both lead a glorious life and train his mind under the cult of religion with all intent. He gave heed, however, to found in that place where he had been born a very small oratory, so that while — Christ assenting — he accomplished the anxious vows of his heart by pondering, he might fulfil the hidden consolation of prayer and religion as he could. But when his devout mind sought service neither to God nor to parents and family, and would not bear the pressure of the crowd, he chose to seek the secret places which the desert offered him. He did this at the time when the consul John ruled the Gauls under imperial right. And so, when on a certain day he went to the basilica to hear the solemnities of the mass — for it was the venerable feast of St John the Baptist — hearing the evangelical lesson and its course drawn out, the end of his desire, piercing with fire, where it says: “And the child grew and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his showing to Israel”; and when another time he had heard that the blessed John the Evangelist left his father Zebedee with the boat and followed Christ without any hesitation — undaunted, kindled with ardour of mind and heavenly desire, leaving father and mother and native soil, he entered the forest which is situated between two rivers, that is between the Armançon and the Serain, seven miles from the fort of Semur. And finding a place where the soldier of Christ might dwell, and bearing the gleaming sword of the heavenly militia wherewith fighting he might repel the hostile foe, he sat down there rejoicing. There also was a well, in which a serpent dwelling among the wastes had its habitation. Discovering this, he came with his companions to the well and, prayer to God being made, disturbed the well as best he could, and thereafter found the harmful serpent dead. And casting it far from the place and dwelling there for a while, he built the site of a monastery and — after the example of the holy fathers, under the tenor of a rule by keeping which they might profit — established a people subject to him, and exhorted them with all his might to follow the studies of the monks who went before in imitation, and to offer the cups of the heavenly antidote whereby the contagion of sins might be driven away.
And when already the fame of the man of God was growing everywhere, the people began to run together from all sides and to honour him with their services. As the troop of monks there increased, he began anxiously to ponder with the goad of his heart what might be better and what more salutary would come to the heap of reward — whether he should be set over the people ruling them, or profit as a subject obeying others under the pretext of religion. At last his counsel was that it was better to submit himself under the bond of mortification than to rule by commanding others. And since he himself especially, placed within the walls of monasteries, had by no means learned under the rigour of obedience the norm of regular matter and the discipline of preceding fathers — but only what reading or the fame of religion had implanted in his heart or brought to his ear — postponing all inquiry and every hesitation, he began to seek arms wherewith he might guard his subject limbs: a shield wherewith to shun the devil’s art, a helmet wherewith to keep the head of faith unharmed, a sword wherewith to restrain worldly errors.
At last, inquiring after the customs of religious men, he came to the monastery of Lérins, where the pattern of the venerable Honoratus’s religion then instructed many and admonished them to hold the norm of regular discipline. When therefore he had arrived there with the company of only two companions — the pursuit of all honour being put away — he subjected himself to humility and obedience, adapting himself to bear the yoke of obedience as the lowest of all. And when for the circuit of a year and six months he bore the rigour of obedience as the lowest under all the cult of humility, there came a certain man to the aforementioned monastery of Lérins. And as he saw the several monks labouring at the use of necessary work, he saw among the rest the venerable man John. Long contemplating him and industriously inquiring his name, he learned who he was and, revealing it to all, prostrate at his feet said: “Is not this the venerable John the monk, who fleeing the prelation of honours came to these places?” And when those present asked what he meant, he set forth everything in order — how the truth of the matter stood. And so, being recognised, he was held in due veneration both by the elders and by the whole company of the brethren. When this was learned, Gregory, pontiff of the city of Langres, began to bear it ill that he had lost the consolations of the people subject to him, and sent without delay from the precincts of his monastery letters of summons: one to him who was over [the community] and to the people subject to him, [warning] that they would be partakers in a common loss if they opposed his return; the other properly to the venerable man John, demanding his return — which if he neglected to do by opposing delay, let him fear to receive the judgement of almighty God for the loss of the people omitted and forsaken. Both men — he who presided, for the loss of a good companion, and the venerable John likewise, for the penalty of the judgement threatened — began anxiously to weigh the matter with the goad of the heart; but conquered by the counsel of all, he is bidden return to his country and, receiving the care of the neglected people, administer anew the heavenly proclamations — lest he should incur the judgement of condemnation for the omission of so many souls, who desired to possess his own salvation.
Returning therefore to the aforementioned place, he strove anew to minister wholesome cups to the monks under the tenor of the rule which the blessed Macarius gave, and to provoke the people trained to better things to the heavenly joys — the monk named Filomerus striving with him, a man devoted to all sanctity and religion; supported by whose help he bestowed the heavenly proclamation both on monks and on people without delay.
Then his mother, experiencing the desirable coming of her venerable son, hastened to come to him, that she might at last see rejoicing his countenance so long parted from her, and open access to her prayers. Having therefore undertaken the journey, she came to him in the place where the man of God was set, and asked of his attendants their aid, that they might contrive how she might merit to see with her eyes the offspring so long desired. He, hearing this, refused — and declined to favour his mother’s longing, remembering that saying: “He that leaves not father or mother for My sake is not worthy of Me.” Yet lest he should rashly violate by contempt his mother’s faith, which he knew to be implanted in the love and fear of Christ — passing before her, he appeared to her eyes for a little while, that he might both satisfy his mother’s desire and not soften the vigour of religion by a mother’s blandishments. And he asked through his attendants that she, keeping herself safe, should set her heart on heavenly desires, and know that he would never see her in this present life.
At the same time, the assembly of the brethren had gone forth to clear the fields, to cut down the thickets of thorns and shrubs, that the land restored to cultivation might yield fruits more abundantly. While they were bent upon the labour of the work, being soon called by the elder they left their axes in obedience in the work and returned to the monastery; the obedience performed, they then made their way back to the field to labour. Finding their axes taken by theft, they hastened to report the loss of their negligence to the father. And when he, bearing their negligence ill, bade the brethren apply themselves to prayer and reading — himself bound in prayer, he besought the Lord by knocking that He would not suffer this loss to be inflicted on His servants. And soon, the prayer ended, he hastened to the field and at once saw the man who had perpetrated the crime of theft coming; and with eager effort the man ran to the blessed man’s feet, confessed the guilt of the deed committed, and promised restoration of the plunder without delay. Then John both granted pardon to him asking and did not refuse to bestow gifts of blessing on him confessing.
And when, as was his custom through the forest after the manner of the athletes of old, he was at leisure for prayer and fasting, he found a certain half-naked pauper seeking necessary food and investigating with all zeal the fruits which the wood is accustomed to produce, that he might overcome the hunger of the flesh with food. John, asking what he sought, drew from him by confession of mouth the misery laid upon him. But he said: “Would that the hunger of the flesh alone pressed you, and not also the hunger or thirst of the soul tormented you — which remains without all dainties; or surely, if that poverty possessed you of which the Lord foretold, saying: ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,’ and ‘Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice, for they shall be filled’ — you would not be in need of any longing for dainties. But I will give you counsel in whatever way I can, that you may not lose hope — for many have escaped by the use of an unhoped-for time: ‘Put your trust in the Lord, and He shall nourish you’; and taking up the zeal of labour, work according to the apostle what is good, that you may have from where to supply necessities both for your own use and for the needy.” And making the sign of the cross on his breast, he bade him go home. The man, obeying the command of the man of God, received so great plenty from his labour that the things necessary never thereafter failed him.
Now a certain man named Agrestius, of the district of Mormant, had come to the aforementioned monastery, moved by desire to hear the solemnities of the mass, and prostrate on the pavement, pouring forth copious prayers, he knocked at the common Lord in prayer. At last raised from the pavement, he waited, longing to hear the solemnities of the mass from the mouth of the blessed man. And when the hour was now at hand, the man of God bade that all should go out of the church and yield the place to quiet — that he might perform the customary solemnities with his companions, as his manner was, and offer the sacrifices to God without the tumult of the people. But Agrestius, stung in mind, went outside yet would not stand before the doors nor suffer himself to await the sacraments of the offerings. With proud inmost heart he returned home and there, in the dead of night, wrapped in his bed, saw the venerable man standing before his bed bearing in his right hand the gem of the eucharist, and saying to him in rebuke: “See, Agrestius — if on the Lord’s day you had delayed to blaspheme, although you would not have received the sacrament of the eucharist with the mouth of your body, it would have been bestowed on you spiritually; but now, because you have presumed to blaspheme, it is denied you spiritually.” He, rising from sleep, prepared to wash away the stains of his fault and, returning to the man of God, implored to have his guilt washed away by asking pardon. [The later text adds: “And lest anyone think what we say fabulous, we learned it by the relation of the venerable Agripinus the deacon, son of that same Agrestius.”]
Afterwards, a certain servant of a man whose name was Clarus fled to the blessed man on account of a crime’s guilt. And when he studiously inquired the fault of the charge, he discovered the harm of the thing committed; and lest he should deny mercy to him asking pardon, he bade a certain man take up a series of letters and, going to Clarus for the wretched man’s offence, obtain both life and pardon. When therefore Clarus had received the letter offered by the bearer, he inquired the cause of the matter and what the text of the letter or the bearer wished. The man set forth the cause. And when Clarus heard the name, turning to fury he cast away the blessed man’s letter marked with greeting and, returning savage answers, spurned the messenger. Nor was the divine vengeance delayed: it struck the mouth and throat of Clarus so violently that for the space of many times he could take neither the food of bread nor the sacraments of the sacred body — [and C adds: for nine whole years].
And thereafter, a servant of a certain man named Nicasius — who at that time administered the care of the republic [was count of the fort of Avallon] — possessed by the craft of demons and vexed with various torments so that he could hardly be thought to be held by chains, was brought to the venerable man John; and by his prayer he was released, and restored to health gave thanks.
Similarly a certain man, deprived of the use of his tongue, was brought to the man of God — and restored by his intercession.
In that season the want of the brethren was custom for the most part to be relieved by the resources of alms. When therefore they were hastening to the man of God to seek sustenance, he — bearing before his eyes the saying of the gospel proclamation which says: “Deal your bread to the hungry,” and “Give to every man that asks of you” — ministered necessaries to all whom he saw coming. And when already the needy people were coming more often from every side, he bestowed on all, giving his accustomed work. But one of the subjects, coming to the father, said he had not so much meal as the cohorts of the needy demanded. He, sighing, asked that a vessel be set apart for him full — from which the food of the needy might be supplied. And soon, obeying, they filled it, holding more than five times five measures; the rest that was over profited for the use of the brethren. When therefore the crowd of the needy were fed from that vessel for the space of some time, it happened that a certain man, according to custom, asked that necessaries be given him. He bade the customary measure be given to the needy man. [The servant said:] “By no means — not even the smallest remnant is left in the vessel, but the whole has been bestowed on the poor.” Hearing this, he raised his eyes to heaven and, bending the knee, implored the Lord, the giver of all. And the prayer ended, he at once bade: “Go,” said he, “with the help of faith, bring food to the needy.” The servant going found the vessel full and, taking the measure, bestowed it on the poor. Then he believed it should be reported to the father — but John bade it be kept silent, lest the stain of elation should take away the wage of grace.
On a certain night amid the dense shadows the venerable Segonus [abbot of Segestre, founder of the monastery of St Seine] came secretly from his cell into the basilica and knocked at the common Lord in prayers. Which being revealed to the man of God from heaven, calling his servant he bade him go with hasty step and, the signal being touched, rouse the brethren — because the brother Segonus had entered the doors of the church by stealth and was knocking at the Lord in prayers. And so it was found, and the duty of hospitality was deliberately fulfilled to the venerable brother.
And when already the Gauls placed their governance under the sway of the king of the Franks — the imperial right being taken away — and, the dominion of the republic laid aside, enjoyed their own power: it happened that Theudebert, son of Theuderic the son of Clovis of old, made war on Italy — having crossed the Alps he troubled Italy [A.D. 539]; and returning swiftly, having sent down the dukes Mummolenus and Buccelenus to whom he had committed the conduct of the wars, himself returned home. In that time, therefore, a certain man [C names him Fidamiolus, “my brother”], being held by a quartan ague and expected to breathe almost his last, his brother hastened to the man of God — coming in haste he asked the gift of blessed bread, with prayer sent before to the Lord, for the sick man’s comfort in humble petition. Then John delayed not to give both prayer and the comfort of the blessed bread — to everyone asking with the ardour of faith he extended aid: he bade one roll and five apples be carried to the sick man. The gift received, he came quickly to his brother; the sick man, set far away away, felt the gift as it came, and asking for his brother begged that the gift of the blessed bread be given him. And when he had carried it in, making three little pieces and steeping them in wine, he ministered it to the sick man hungering. And when he had taken the gift of the blessed bread rejoicing with the ardour of faith, at once the wasting was driven out and he received health.
How sublime the examples of the Lord’s miracles in His saints may be has resounded, diffused through the world, into the bosom of the Church, and is known to the faithful by the clear-shining light of truth. When in that season the crops, their yearly ripeness accomplished, had been prepared for cutting at the aforementioned monastery, the assembly of the brethren made haste in troops to reap the harvest; and the work being done through the whole day’s course, the coming of black night forbade it. And when all had returned to the monastery, by command of the elders one of the brethren, Claudius by name, remained to guard the grain. When he was taking sleep and, waking in the dead of night, lifted the ardour of his mind to heaven — according to that saying: “I sleep, and my heart watches” — he began to think lest the limbs of his companions, wearied, should have sunk into too deep slumber and, the use of prayer neglected, should fail to render due passage of the way at dawn’s coming. While he was thus pondering with anxious heart, he suddenly saw the heavens opened and a gleaming globe illumining the whole world. And soon, while his stricken mind throbbed at the wondrous deed, the winged cock, raising his wonted voice, announced to the world the coming light; and the signal being struck, the whole assembly of the brethren entered the church for the performing of prayers and chants. He, rejoicing, after light was given to the world, told the father industriously what he had seen. But John — lest corrupted by the goad of elation he should pollute his mind — rebuking him said: “By no means presume to narrate such things even with a proud heart! For what is fitting — that a man set in frailty and stained with the contagion of sins should merit to contemplate heavenly things?”
A certain man, hastening back home from Paris, was smitten by the worst ulcer which at that time [A.D. 543] spread abroad through many places of the Gallic bounds; and coming to his own, he begged that water might be brought him from the well which the man of God had blessed, situated within the precincts of his monastery. And soon, the water being carried — at once his hospitality being rendered — even after many…
[The chapter continues partly illegible in the chief MS.: the sick man, drinking the water, was restored to health and felt the ulcer’s fires no more.]
So great was the grace conferred on him that he bore about both the marks of virtue which he had acquired by mild age and the scars of toil: his rival, the ancient serpent, educated by his own devices, laboured to deceive — especially through gluttony of the belly and the greatest goad of pride, whereby he had learned that Adam was deceived in paradise. Against these he persuaded the people subject to him to beware in every way, lest in like manner, as Adam fell and was sundered from the joys of paradise and cast out, so his imitators — obeying gluttony, stirred by the goad of pride and troubled by weakness of mind, and wounded by the darts of the enemy — should be cut off from the fellowship of the just and condemned to the eternal torment of being deprived of perpetual light. But he himself, at leisure in fasting and watching, all allurements trodden down, forbade the sprouting enticements of bodily lust to grow, that he might draw the fire of soul kindled with that fire of which the Lord says: “I am come to send fire on the earth; and what will I, if it be already kindled?” — that he might draw all fruits of virtues, ever bearing this word in heart and mouth: “My soul has coveted to long for Your justifications at all times”; and “I have loved Your commandments above gold and topaz.” Exhorting the brethren, he admonished them with cheerful countenance and glad face, saying: “Come, let us exult in the Lord, let us rejoice in God our Saviour. Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving, and in psalms let us rejoice in Him. Come, let us worship and fall down before the Lord, and weep before God who made us, for He is the Lord our God.” Devoted in heart and body to the most pious work, he remembered that holy Paul had said that if a man had not laboured, he could not eat bread without peril. And inquiring into the institutes of the holy fathers, amid many conferences meditating especially on the doctrine of the holy abbot Isaac of Scete, for Christ’s love he constrained himself and was not ashamed of the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ but bore it — ever keeping the unshaken foundations of deep humility, he restrained his mind from every slippery assault and so little by little merited to be lifted up from divine contemplation and spiritual intuition. The care of carnal things he cut off entirely save certain things of necessity, and of no matter of business did he admit not only the care but not even the memory. Detraction, idle talk and much speaking, scurrility — he likewise cut away, knowing that whatever the order of religion had woven together for himself, it would profit others to fulfil — all that he himself had carried on from puberty even to old age. Nor, though his limbs were weary, did he suffer it to be brought to silence what would profit all in common for increase — the trumpet of his voice sounding in the city and the salutary precepts of the Lord resounding.
He died therefore at about 120 years of age, on the fifth day before the Kalends of February [28 January] — full of bodily age and of the comeliness of religion. His eyes did not grow dim, nor did he feel the loss of teeth, retaining the vigour of memory’s tenacity; nor, as is accustomed to happen in many, did decrepit age ever succumb to avarice by abandoning the practice of largess — but all the good things in which youthful age had abounded, his old age equally possessed. And he was buried not far from the monastery within the bounds of the monastery, in the place which he himself had foretold. And there was appointed in his place an abbot named Silvester, whom he himself while living had beforehand bidden preside over the company of the brethren — who, walking in the footsteps of his master both in the form of religion and the tenor of the rule, flourished for a long time. After him Mummolinus received the care of government in the aforementioned monastery by the command of the venerable Silvester; who, being afterwards elected pontiff of the church of Langres, appointed Leubardinus abbot in his place with the consent of the brethren — who moved the sepulchre where the relics of the holy body of the blessed John were laid to the place where it now is.
Nor does it seem absurd to insert in this work what was then done in its removal. For when they wished to tear that sepulchre from the place where it stood and move it — and though the earth was lifted up on every side, yet they could by no means move the sarcophagus — it was resolved to undertake the labour of a three days’ fast. And when the third day of the fast dawned — for it was the tenth day before the Kalends of October [22 September], on which day the venerable feast of the blessed martyr Maurice with his companions shines bright in the world — and their limbs now wearied with fasting after the matin songs were resting again in sleep, a certain old man entering the church saw the blessed elders; and it seemed to him that John and Silvester stood before the sepulchre and commanded those who were with them, clad in white stoles, that they should move the sepulchre and bring it forward into the place where it now is. And when he saw with bold mind what was being done, he was rebuked by John — as he himself supposed — saying: “Why have you dared to enter the church? But because I have known your entrance to be of simple heart — go,” said he, “and with hasty step arouse both Leubardinus and the brethren, that they may quickly finish the work begun.” He ran swiftly to Abbot Leubardinus and set forth the cause of the thing done. He rose rejoicing with his men and, recognising the will of the holy man and the permission of his own devotion, rising and removing the sepulchre, they moved it into the place where it now is. Where also they built a holy altar by the counsel of the bishops, where the hosts of Christ are sacrificed and the offices of prayers are paid — where also remedies for the sick and the solace of benefits are furnished to the vows of all; to whom is honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
Here ends Jonas’s Life of St John of Réôme.
