“Better in the hands of the Isaurians than in the hands of Bishop Pharetrius…”

Saint John Chrysostom describes to the Deaconess Olympias what he suffered in Caesarea at the hands of Bishop Pharetrius:

“We were about to enter Cappadocia, since we had now escaped from the hands of the bishop of Galatia, who had threatened us with death. Then many people met us, saying, ‘Pharetrius is anxiously waiting for you; he paces back and forth, fearing that you might pass by and that he might not succeed in meeting you. He has even roused all the monasteries, both men’s and women’s, to come out and welcome you, and he is doing everything possible to see you, to greet you, and to show you all his love.’ I listened to all these words, but in truth, I did not believe a single one of them. What I thought within myself was that quite the opposite was awaiting me. However, I said nothing of my inner suspicions to those who brought me this news.

When at last we arrived in Caesarea, burning with the heat of a high fever, utterly exhausted and near death, I found at last a lodging on the edge of the city. Immediately afterward I sought a physician to help me extinguish the furnace of fever that consumed me. It was the height of a tertian fever, worsened by the hardships of the journey, fatigue, collapse, lack of attendants, absence of necessities, lack of medical care, exhaustion from heat, and sleeplessness.

Thus I came to the city almost dead. Yet all the clergy, the people, the monks, the nuns, and the physicians came to me and cared for me with devotion and respect. The high fever had completely drained me, but little by little, the illness subsided and quieted.

Pharetrius, however, was nowhere to be seen. He remained silent, I know not with what intention, waiting for us to depart from the city.

When I finally realized that the illness had calmed, I thought of setting out for Cucusus, to rest for a time after the sufferings I had endured along the way. While I was in this condition, we were told that suddenly a host of Isaurians had appeared, occupying the whole region around Caesarea. They had already burned one village and were advancing, destroying whatever lay before them. The commanding officer of the local garrison immediately decided to march out and confront them. Fearing an attack on the city, everyone was in panic; even the old men were conscripted to guard the walls.

While we were in this situation, suddenly, at dawn, a furious band of monks burst into my lodging, threatening us and shouting that, unless I came out, they would burn both the house and us inside it. Nothing could calm them, not the threat of the Isaurians, not my state of sickness, nor anything else. On the contrary, they persisted with such rage in their threats that even our local guards were terrified, for the monks had already struck and wounded many of them.

When the guards heard this, they pleaded with me urgently, saying, ‘We would rather fall into the hands of the Isaurians than into the hands of these beasts.’ The local commander, learning what had occurred, rushed to us, deeply concerned for our safety and eager to help. But the monks refused to heed even his appeals, and he too proved powerless to protect us. Seeing that the situation was hopeless, unable to advise us to leave, since that meant certain death, but also unable to tell us to stay under such threat, he sent men to beg Pharetrius to allow us to remain a while longer in the city because of the danger from the Isaurians. But again, he accomplished nothing.

The next day, the same monks rushed upon us with even greater fury, so that all were afraid; none of the presbyters dared to stand by us or help, for they were ashamed, believing all this to have been done under the command of Pharetrius. For that reason, they hid themselves, and even when we called upon them for support, they would not come.

What more can I say? Under the grave threat to our lives and still suffering from the tyranny of fever, I resolved to rise and be carried on my litter. By noon they forced me out of the house, while the people murmured, cried out, and cursed the one who had caused so much misery. All bid us farewell with tears and lamentation.

When we passed beyond the city limits, a few clerics came quietly and accompanied us weeping. I heard some of them say, ‘Where are you taking him? You are leading him to certain death.’ Another, one who loved and respected me greatly, said: ‘Go, escape from us. It is better to fall into the hands of the Isaurians than to remain with us. Wherever you fall, you will be safer than in our hands.’

Hearing and seeing all this, noble Seleucia, the wife of Rufinus, who had greatly supported us, sent people, beseeching me to take shelter at their estate, which lay a short distance outside the city. I accepted the invitation and set out toward it.

But even there, my persecutors did not leave me in peace. Once Pharetrius learned that I was staying there, he threatened them savagely, as Seleucia later told me. When I accepted their hospitality, I knew nothing of this. Seleucia had kept everything secret and had only instructed her steward to provide me with every comfort. She had also warned him that, if the monks came to attack or harm us, he should gather the workers from their other estates and drive them back. She further urged me that, if I were in danger, I should not hesitate to take refuge in their house, which had an impregnable tower, and so escape from the hands of the bishop and the monks.

I did not accept this offer, however, and remained at the estate, suspecting nothing of what awaited me. Pharetrius continually threatened and pressured her to drive me out. Unable to endure these pressures and frightened by Pharetrius’ intimidating behavior, though I was unaware of all this, Seleucia sent word to me at midnight, claiming that barbarians had appeared in the area. She said this because she was ashamed to tell me the real reason: the persecution she suffered from Pharetrius for offering me hospitality.

So, in the dark of night, the presbyter Euthymius came and almost shouted for me to rise and flee, saying that the barbarians had arrived.

Imagine my condition upon hearing this. We could not take refuge in the city, as the priest told me, because we feared to fall into the hands of our persecutors and suffer things worse than what the Isaurians might do to us. So we rose and fled.

It was midnight. The night was moonless, black and dark, and so our way was harder. We had no one to accompany or assist us; all had abandoned us. I was certain that my end was near. At one point I told them to light torches so we could see, but the priest refused, fearing that the barbarians would spot us more easily. Thus we went on until the mule carrying my litter suddenly fell to its knees, for the road was steep and rough, and threw me down, almost killing me. Gathering what little strength I had left and leaning on the priest Euthymius, I continued on foot, or rather, dragged myself along, for how could a man walk in such rugged mountains and in a night without moonlight?

Imagine what I could have suffered, so ill and fevered as I was. Of all these schemes and conspiracies, I knew nothing, but I kept thinking of the barbarians and feared that I would fall into their hands. Tell me, would not these sufferings alone suffice to wash away my sins and grant me spiritual advancement?

All of this, I believe, happened because of Pharetrius’s jealousy. When he saw that, upon my arrival in Caesarea, I was honored by the local officials, the learned men, and by the entire populace who treated me as the apple of their eye, he envied me. I do not say this with absolute certainty, but the facts themselves suggest it. What more could be added about the perils and fears that accompanied us throughout this journey?”
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(To the Deaconess Olympias – Letter 9)