Abbot Paul’s Monastery and a Patient Brother

After only a few days, drawn by the desire for further instruction, we set out again very eagerly for the coenobium of Abbot Paul. More than two hundred brothers live there; but in honor of the festival then being held, a huge crowd of monks from other coenobia had come as well, for the anniversary of the death of a former abbot who had presided over that same monastery was being solemnly kept. We mention this gathering so that we may briefly speak of the patience of a certain brother, which showed itself in an unshakable gentleness before that whole congregation. The aim of this work, it is true, concerns another person: that is, to set down the sayings of Abbot John, who left the desert and submitted himself to that coenobium with the greatest goodness and humility. Still, we think it not at all out of place to tell, without needless words, something we believe is most instructive to those who are eager for goodness. [a]

The whole body of monks was seated in separate groups of twelve in the large open courtyard, and one of the brothers was rather slow in fetching and bringing in a dish. Abbot Paul, who was busily hurrying about among the crowds of brothers who were serving, saw it, and before them all struck him such a blow on the open palm of his hand that the sound of the hand being struck actually reached the ears of those who were sitting some way off with their backs turned. But the young man, who was of remarkable patience, took it with such calm that not only did he let no word fall from his mouth or give the slightest sign of grumbling by a silent movement of his lips, but he did not even change color in the slightest, or lose the modest and peaceful look about his mouth. This astonished not only us, who had lately come from a monastery in Syria and had not learned the blessing of such patience from such clear examples, but also all those who were no strangers to such earnestness. So a great lesson was taught even to those who were well advanced: for though this fatherly correction had not disturbed his patience, neither did the presence of so great a crowd bring the slightest color to his cheeks.