Death transformed into joy for the saints
Basil opens his homily on the martyr Barlaam by contrasting the old mourning of the dead with the Christian joy that now surrounds the deaths of the saints, since death is a passage to better life.
In earlier times the deaths of the saints were adorned with lamentation and tears. Joseph wept bitterly for Jacob when he was dead, and the Jews mourned the death of Moses with no small grief. They honored Samuel too with many tears. But now we leap for joy at the deaths of the holy ones. For after the cross, the nature of sorrowful things has been changed. No longer do we escort the deaths of the saints with dirges, but we dance with inspired choirs around their tombs. For death is sleep for the righteous—or rather, a departure to a better life. That is why martyrs leap for joy as they are being slain. The longing for the more blessed life makes the pain of slaughter dead. The martyr does not see the dangers but the crowns; he does not shudder at the blows but counts the prizes; he does not look at the executioners scourging him below, but imagines the angels praising him above; he does not consider the temporary nature of the dangers, but the eternity of the rewards. Even now among us they enjoy a bright earnest, applauded by the inspired praises of all, and netting countless multitudes from their tombs. This is what the noble Barlaam has accomplished today. For the martial trumpet of the martyr has sounded, and it has gathered the soldiers of piety, as you see. The athlete of Christ, now laid out, has been proclaimed, and he has stirred up the assembly of the Church. And as the Master of the faithful said, “Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live” (John 11:25). The noble Barlaam has died, and he gathers festal assemblies; he has been consumed in the tomb, yet he summons us to a banquet. Now is the time for us to cry out, “Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age?” (1 Corinthians 1:20). Today a rustic is our unconquerable teacher of piety—a man whom the tyrant dragged off as easy prey, but after testing him found an unconquerable soldier; a man he laughed at for his mangled speech, but shuddered at when he showed angelic youthful vigor. For his manner did not share in the broken speech of his tongue's instrument, nor was his reasoning seen limping along with his syllables. Rather, he was a second Paul, saying with Paul, “Even if I am untrained in speech, I am not in knowledge” (2 Corinthians 11:6). The scourging executioners grew numb, but the martyr was found more vigorous. The hands of those who flayed him were weakened, but the reasoning of the one being flayed was not bent. The whips loosened the harmonies of his sinews, but the tension of his faith was tightened all the more. His sides were dug into and worn away, but the philosophy of his spirit was in full bloom. Most of his flesh had been put to death, yet he flourished as one who had not yet begun the contests. For when love of piety takes hold of the soul in advance, every form of warfare becomes laughable to it, and all those who flay it for the sake of the beloved give it pleasure rather than pain. The longing of the apostles bears witness to me, making the whips they once received from the Jews delightful. For they went, it says, rejoicing from the presence of the council, because they had been counted worthy to be dishonored for his name (Acts 5:41). Such is the soldier we praise today. He considered tortures a joy, and thought he was being struck with roses by the whips. He fled the outrages of impiety as though they were arrows, and reckoned the judge’s fury a shadow of smoke. He laughed at the raging ranks of bodyguards, and danced among the dangers as though they were crowns. He rejoiced in the blows as though they were honors, and leaped for joy at the more severe punishments as though they were brighter prizes. He spat at drawn swords, and received the hands of the executioners as though they were softer than wax. He embraced the torturer’s wood as a saving wood, and delighted in the locks of the prison as though they were meadows. He took pleasure in the inventions of tortures as though they were varieties of flowers, and he possessed a right hand stronger than fire—the final device that his enemies brought against him.
Greek
ΟΜΙΛΙΑ ΙΖʹ. Εἰς Βαρλαὰμ μάρτυρα. Πρότερον μὲν τῶν ἁγίων οἱ θάνατοι κοπετοῖς ἐκοσμοῦντο καὶ δάκρυσιν· ἔκλαυσε σφοδρῶς Ἰωσὴφ τὸν Ἰακὼβ τεθνεῶτα, ἐκόψαντο καὶ τὴν Μωϋ σέως τελευτὴν οὐ μικρῶς Ἰουδαῖοι· πολλοῖς καὶ τὸν Σαμουὴλ τετιμήκασι δάκρυσι· νῦν δὲ ταῖς τῶν ὁσίων τελευταῖς ἐνσκιρτῶμεν. Ἡ γὰρ τῶν λυπηρῶν μετὰ τὸν σταυρὸν μεταβέβληται φύσις. Οὐκέτι θρήνοις τοὺς τῶν ἁγίων δορυφοροῦμεν θανάτους, ἀλλ' ἐνθέοις χορείαις τοῖς ἐκείνων ἐπορχούμεθα τάφοις. Ὕπνος γὰρ τοῖς δικαίοις ὁ θάνατος. Μᾶλλον δὲ πρὸς κρείττονα ζωὴν ἐκδημία. Ἐντεῦθεν σκιρτῶσι σφατ τόμενοι μάρτυρες. Ὁ γὰρ τῆς μακαριωτέρας ζωῆς πόθος τὴν τῆς σφαγῆς ὀδύνην νεκρὰν ἀπεργάζεται. Οὐ βλέπει τοὺς κινδύνους, ἀλλὰ τοὺς στεφάνους ὁ μάρτυς· οὐ φρίττει τὰς πληγὰς, ἀλλ' ἀριθμεῖ τὰ βραβεῖα· οὐχ ὁρᾷ τοὺς κάτω μαστιγοῦντας δημίους, ἀλλὰ τοὺς ἄνωθεν εὐφημοῦντας ἀγγέλους φαντάζεται· οὐ σκοπεῖ τῶν κινδύνων τὸ πρόσκαιρον, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῶν ἐπάθλων αἰώνιον. Λαμπρὸν καὶ παρ' ἡμῖν ἤδη τὸν ἀῤῥαβῶνα καρποῦνται, ταῖς παρὰ πάντων ἐνθέοις εὐφημίαις κροτούμενοι, καὶ μυρίους ἐκ τάφων σαγηνεύοντες δήμους. Τοῦτο δὴ τὸ τῷ γενναίῳ τήμερον Βαρλαὰμ πεπραγμένον. Ἤχησε γὰρ ἡ πολεμικὴ τοῦ μάρτυρος σάλπιγξ, καὶ τοὺς τῆς εὐσεβείας ὁπλίτας, ὡς ὁρᾶτε, συνήγαγεν. Ὁ τοῦ Χριστοῦ κείμενος ἀθλητὴς ἐκηρύχθη, καὶ τὸ τῆς Ἐκκλησίας ἀνεπτέρωσε θέατρον. Καὶ ὡς ἔλεγε τῶν πιστῶν ὁ Δεσπότης· Ὁ πιστεύων εἰς ἐμὲ, κἂν ἀποθάνῃ, ζήσεται· τέθνη κεν ὁ γενναῖος Βαρλαὰμ, καὶ συγκροτεῖ πανηγύρεις· κατανάλωται τάφῳ, καὶ συγκαλεῖ πρὸς ἑστίασιν. Νῦν ἡμῖν ἀναβοῆσαι καιρός· Ποῦ σοφός; ποῦ γραμματεύς; ποῦ συζητητὴς τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου; Ἄγροικος ἡμῖν σήμερον ὁ ἀήττητος τῆς εὐσεβείας διδάσκαλος, ὂν εἷλκε μὲν τύραννος ὡς εὐάλω τον θήραμα, ἔγνω δὲ μετὰ τὴν πεῖραν ὁπλίτην ἀχείρωτον· ὃν ἐγέλα μὲν παρακεκομμένα φθεγγόμενον, ἔφριξε δὲ ἀγγελικὰ νεανιευόμενον. Οὐ γὰρ συνεβαρβάριζεν ὁ τρόπος τῷ τῆς γλώττης ὀργάνῳ, οὐδὲ ταῖς συλλαβαῖς συγχωλεύων ὁ λογισμὸς ἑωρᾶτο· ἀλλ' ἦν δεύτερος Παῦλος, μετὰ τοῦ Παύ λου φθεγγόμενος· Εἰ καὶ ἰδιώτης τῷ λόγῳ, ἀλλ' οὐ τῇ γνώσει. Ἐνάρκησαν μαστίζοντες δήμιοι, ἀλλ' ἀκμαιότερος ὁ μάρτυς εὑρίσκετο· αἱ τῶν ξεόντων ἐξενευρίζοντο χεῖρες, ἀλλ' ὁ τοῦ ξεομένου λογισμὸς οὐκ ἐκάμπτετο. Τὰς τῶν νεύρων αἱ μάστιγες ἁρμονίας παρέλυσαν, ἀλλ' ὁ τῆς πίστεως ἀκριβέστερον ἐπεσφίγγετο τόνος. Διασκαπτόμεναι πλευραὶ δεδαπάνηντο, ἀλλ' ἡ τοῦ φρονήματος ἤνθει φιλοσοφία. Τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτοῦ τὸ πλέον νενέκρωτο, ἀλλ' ὡς μήπω τῶν ἀγώνων ἀρξάμενος ἤκμαζεν. Ὅταν γὰρ ὁ τῆς εὐσεβείας ἔρως τὴν ψυχὴν προ κατάσχῃ, ἅπαν αὐτῇ πολέμων καταγέλαστον εἶδος, καὶ πάντες αὐτὴν ὑπὲρ τοῦ ποθουμένου καταξέοντες τέρπουσι μᾶλλον ἢ πλήττουσι. Μαρτυρεῖ μοι τῶν ἀποστόλων ὁ πόθος, τερπνὰς αὐτοῖς ποτε τὰς παρὰ Ἰουδαίων ἐργαζόμενος μάστιγας. Ἐπορεύοντο γὰρ, φησὶ, χαίροντες ἀπὸ προσώπου τοῦ συνεδρίου, ὅτι ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὀνόματος αὐτοῦ κατηξιώθησαν ἀτιμασθῆναι. Τοιοῦτος καὶ ὁ σήμερον ἡμῖν ὁπλίτης ὑμνούμενος· εὐφροσύνην τὰς κολάσεις ἡγούμενος, ῥόδοις τισὶ βάλλεσθαι νομίζων ταῖς μάστιξι· τὰς τῆς ἀσεβείας αἰκίας δραπετεύων ὡς βέλη, καπνοῦ σκιὰν τὸν δικαστικὸν θυμὸν λογιζόμενος· τάγματα δορυφόρων ἀπηγριωμένα γελῶν· ὡς ἐπὶ στεφάνοις τοῖς κινδύνοις χορεύων· ταῖς πληγαῖς ὡς τιμαῖς εὐφραινόμενος· ταῖς σφοδροτέραις τιμωρίαις ὡς βραβείοις ἐνσκιρτῶν λαμπροτέροις· ξίφη διαπτύων γυμνούμενα· χεῖρας δημίων ὡς κηροῦ μαλα κωτέρας δεχόμενος· κολαστήριον ξύλον ὡς σωτήριον ἀσπαζόμενος· κλείσμασι δεσμωτηρίων ὡς λειμῶσι τερπόμενος· βασάνων ἐπινοίαις ὡς ἀνθέων ποικιλίαις ἡδόμενος· πυρὸς εὐτονωτέραν δεξιὰν κεκτημένος· ὃ δὴ τελευταῖον αὐτῷ παρὰ τῶν πολεμούντων προσῆκτο μηχάνημα.