Ephraim the Syrian

Ephraim the Syrian deserved the highest honors and was the greatest ornament of the catholic church. He was a native of Nisibis, or his family came from the territory near it. He devoted his life to the monastic philosophy; and though he received no schooling, he became, against all expectation, so skilled in the learning and the language of the Syrians that he easily grasped the most difficult theorems of philosophy. His writing was so full of splendid eloquence, and of richness and restraint of thought, that he surpassed the most highly regarded writers of Greece. If the works of those writers were translated into Syriac or any other language, and stripped, as it were, of the beauties of the Greek tongue, they would keep little of their original elegance and worth. The writings of Ephraim do not suffer this loss. They were translated into Greek during his lifetime, and translations are still being made now, and yet they keep much of their original force, so that his works are admired no less when read in Greek than when read in Syriac. Basil, who later became bishop of the chief city of Cappadocia, greatly admired Ephraim and was astonished at his learning. The opinion of Basil, who is universally acknowledged to have been the most eloquent man of his age, is, I think, a stronger witness to Ephraim’s merit than anything that could be written in his praise. It is said that he wrote three hundred thousand lines of verse, and that he had many disciples who were zealously devoted to his teaching. The most famous of them were Abbas, Zenobius, Abraham, Maras and Simeon, of whom the Syrians, and all among them who pursue exact learning, are very proud. Paulanas and Aranad are praised for the polish of their speech, although they are reported to have strayed from sound doctrine. [a]

I am well aware that some very learned men once flourished in Osrhoene: for instance Bardesanes, who devised a heresy called by his name, and Harmonius, his son. It is told that Harmonius was deeply versed in Greek learning and was the first to bend his native tongue to meters and musical rules. He gave these verses to the choirs, and even now the Syrians often sing, not the exact words of Harmonius, but the same melodies. For Harmonius was not altogether free from the errors of his father. He held various opinions taught by the Greek philosophers about the soul, about the birth and the destruction of the body, and about rebirth, and he worked some of these ideas into the lyric songs he composed. When Ephraim saw that the Syrians were charmed by the elegance of the words and the rhythm of the melody, he grew afraid that they would take in the same opinions. So, although he knew no Greek learning, he set himself to understand the meters of Harmonius, and he composed similar poems in keeping with the teaching of the church, and also sacred hymns and songs in praise of men free from the passions. From that time on the Syrians sang the odes of Ephraim according to the musical rules that Harmonius had set. This work alone is enough to show Ephraim’s natural gifts. [d]

He was as famous for the good he did as for the strict discipline he kept. He was especially fond of quiet. He was so serious, and so careful to give no occasion for slander, that he would not even look at women. It is told that a woman of careless life, who either wanted to tempt him or had been bribed to do it, managed on one occasion to meet him face to face, and she fixed her eyes on him. He rebuked her and ordered her to look down at the ground. “Why should I obey your order?” the woman replied. “I was born not of the earth but of you. It would be fairer for you to look down at the earth you came from, while I look at you, since I was born of you.” Ephraim, astonished at the woman, recorded the whole incident in a book, which most Syrians regard as one of the best of his writings.

It is also said of him that, although he was hot-tempered by nature, he never showed anger toward anyone from the time he took up the monastic life. Once, when he had been fasting for several days, as was his custom, his attendant dropped the dish on which he was bringing him food. Ephraim, seeing that the man was overwhelmed with shame and fear, said to him: “Take courage. Since the food will not come to us, we will go to the food.” And at once he sat down beside the pieces of the dish and ate his supper.

What I am about to tell will be enough to show that he was entirely free from the love of empty glory. He was appointed bishop of a certain town, and an attempt was made to carry him off to be ordained. As soon as he realized what was intended, he ran into the marketplace and made himself look like a madman, walking about in a disorderly way, dragging his clothes along, and eating in public. Those who had come to carry him away to be their bishop, seeing him in this state, believed he was out of his mind and went away; and he, finding a chance to escape, stayed in hiding until another man had been ordained in his place. What I have said about Ephraim must be enough, although his own countrymen tell many other stories about him. Yet one thing he did shortly before his death seems to me so worth remembering that I will record it here.

When the city of Edessa was struck by a severe famine, he left the solitary cell in which he practiced philosophy and rebuked the rich for letting the poor die around them instead of sharing their surplus with them. He showed them, by his philosophy, that the wealth they were storing up so carefully would turn to their own condemnation and to the ruin of the soul, which is worth more than all riches, more than the body itself and everything else of value; and he proved from their actions that they set no value on their souls. The rich men, revering the man and his words, replied: “We are not set on hoarding our wealth, but we know of no one to whom we can entrust the distribution of our goods, for everyone is inclined to seek gain and to betray the trust placed in him.” “What do you think of me?” asked Ephraim. They admitted that they thought him a capable, excellent and good man, and worthy, exactly what his reputation said he was. So he offered to undertake the distribution of their alms himself. As soon as he received their money, he had about three hundred beds set up in the public colonnades, and there he cared for those who were sick and suffering from the famine, whether they were strangers or people of the surrounding country. When the famine ended, he went back to the cell where he had lived before, and a few days later he died. He rose no higher in the clergy than the rank of deacon, although he became no less famous for his virtue than those who are ordained to the priesthood and are admired for the conduct of a good life and for their learning.

I have now given some account of the virtue of Ephraim. It would take a more practiced hand than mine to give a full description of his character and of the other illustrious men who, at about the same time, had given themselves to a life and career of philosophy; and for some of it, it would take a writer such as he himself was. The attempt is beyond my powers, because of the weakness of my language and my ignorance of the men themselves and their deeds. Some of them hid themselves in the deserts. Others, who lived amid the bustle of the cities, tried to keep a humble appearance and to seem no different from the crowd, working out their virtue and hiding their true worth so as to avoid the praise of others. For since they were intent on gaining the good things to come in exchange, they made God alone the witness of their thoughts and cared nothing for outward glory.