Life of Malchus by Jerome
Life of Malchus by Jerome
INTRODUCTION
The Life of Malchus was written during Jerome’s early years at Bethlehem: as Evagrius is mentioned as bishop of Antioch in the preface to the work, it cannot have been composed before 389. It is likely that it was written shortly before the Life of Hilarion. The preface presents a characteristically belligerent Jerome, still determined to fight for the cause of Christian asceticism and the superiority of the life of chastity. It was not long after writing the Life of Malchus that Jerome became deeply embroiled in controversy over this issue when he challenged the views on virginity and marriage held by Jovinian: it was a controversy which was to lead him to write his most famous work of polemic and abuse, the work Against Jovinian.1 But already in the Life of Malchus his overwhelming attachment to the concept of chastity is evident. The work, though couched in terms of a colourful and exciting account of one individual’s experiences in the desert, is less of a biography than an essay on the ideal of chastity.2 Neither can it really be termed hagiography: the account is given by Malchus himself in the first person, no mention is made of any cult surrounding him, and the only incident which might be regarded as miraculous is the episode where the lion kills Malchus’ master and fellow slave but does not seek to harm Malchus or his female companion in their flight from slavery.
The preface also informs us that Jerome was, at the time of writing, planning a major work, a history of the Christian Church with a clearly polemical bias. He hoped to describe the beginnings of the Church and its growth through times of persecution and martyrdom, but also how it had declined in virtue as it increased in wealth and power. Presumably he was here thinking of the way the Church had developed in the course of the fourth century, becoming open to charges of laxity and compromise with the secular world: compromise of this kind was what drove so many into the arms of asceticism at this time.
The Life of Malchus, like the Life of Hilarion, is full of interesting and vivid details, with occasional references to public figures adding authenticity to the account. Malchus’ story of his adventures provides us with incidental information about monastic life in Syria in the early fourth century, about travel conditions in the area, and about the customs of the nomad population. Jerome’s prime concern may have been to produce a work of propaganda for the life of chastity, but in doing so he has produced a short masterpiece of the narrative art.
LIFE OF MALCHUS BY JEROME
1 Those who intend to fight a naval battle first turn the rudder in the calm waters of the harbour, pull at the oars and prepare the grappling irons and hooks. They accustom the soldiers, ranged along the decks, to keep their balance even when their feet slip and the footing is precarious, so that when it comes to the real battle they will not fear what they have learned in the mock battle. In the same way I who have long been silent (for he who finds my speech painful has forced me to remain quiet), desire first to practise on a minor work and to rub away, so to speak, any rust from my tongue, so that I might become capable of undertaking a more extensive account. For if the Lord should grant me life and if my critics should stop persecuting me now that I am a fugitive and a prisoner, I have decided to write an account of the Church of Christ from the coming of the Saviour down to our time, in other words, from the apostles down to the dregs of our own period, showing by what means and through what agents the Church was born, and how it grew up under the persecutions and was crowned by the martyrs, and how, under the Christian emperors, it became more powerful and wealthy but less rich in virtues. But I shall deal with these matters elsewhere; for the moment, let us deal with the matter in hand.
2 Maronia is a tiny village about thirty miles east of the city of Antioch in Syria. While I was living in Syria as a young man, this village, after having a number of landlords or owners, came into the possession of my close friend bishop Evagrius1 whom I mention at this point to show where I got my information from. There lived in that village an old man called Malchus, a name which means ‘king’. He was a Syrian by birth and language, a true native of that place. There was also an old woman living with him as his companion, so decrepit that she seemed close to death. Both of them were so devout and wore away the threshold of the church so assiduously that you might have taken them to be Zacharias and Elisabeth from the Gospel,2 except that John was not with them. When, out of curiosity, I asked the neighbours about them – what was it that bound them together, was it marriage, family ties or the bond of the spirit? – they all with one accord answered that they were holy people, pleasing to God, and they told me some extraordinary things about them. Drawn by my desire to find out more, I went up to the man and inquired of him with great interest whether these things were true. This is what he told me:
3 ‘My son,’ he said, ‘I was a tenant farmer on a small piece of land at Nisibis,3 and my parents’ only child. When they put pressure on me to marry because I was the only scion of their stock and their sole heir, I replied that I would rather be a monk. How my father threatened me and with what wheedling words my mother tried to make me betray my chastity, you may judge from this fact alone, that I ran away from my home and my parents. As I could not go east because of the proximity of Persia and the Roman military presence, I turned my steps westwards, taking with me some few provisions which might just keep me from destitution. What more is there to say? At last I came to the desert of Chalcis which lies between Immae and Beroea,4 a little to the south. There I found some monks and I attached myself to them as their disciple, earning my living by manual work and restraining the lustfulness of my flesh by fasting.
‘After many years I conceived a desire to return to my country and to console my mother in her widowhood while she still lived (for I had already heard that my father had died). I then planned to sell my small property and to donate part of the proceeds to the poor, to use another part to establish a monastery and the rest (why do I blush to confess my lack of faith?) I intended to keep for my own expenses. My abbot began to protest that it was the temptation of the devil and that under the pretext of a virtuous intention were concealed the secret attacks of the old enemy: in other words, the dog was returning to its vomit.5 “Many monks,” he said, “are deceived in this way for the devil never shows himself openly.” He set before me several examples from the Scriptures, including the one where in the beginning the devil tricked Adam and Eve through the hope of divinity. When the abbot failed to persuade me, he fell on his knees and begged me not to desert them, not to destroy myself and not to look back once I had my hand on the plough.6 Unfortunately for me, I won a most miserable victory over my mentor, for I believed that he was more concerned for his own comfort than for my welfare. He escorted me from the monastery as if he were accompanying a funeral procession and at the last moment he spoke these words of farewell, “I see, my son, that you are marked by Satan’s branding-iron: I do not ask your reasons and I accept no excuses. The sheep that leaves the sheep-fold immediately exposes itself to the wolf’s jaws.”
4 ‘As one travels from Beroea to Edessa,7 the public highway is bordered by desert across which Saracens constantly wander, leading a nomadic existence. Fear of these people causes travellers in those regions to group together in large parties so that they might protect each other from the danger threatening them. There were in my party about seventy travellers: men, women, old people and young, as well as small children. Suddenly the Ishmaelites, riding on horses and camels, swooped on us. They wore their hair long, bound by a fillet, their bodies half naked, wearing cloaks and broad boots. From their shoulders hung quivers and they carried their bows unstrung and brandished long spears. They had come not for battle but for booty. We were captured, divided up and dragged off in different directions. Meanwhile, I, the heir to property, regretted too late my decision to return home: lots were drawn and I was taken into slavery together with one of the young women, both of us to serve one master. We were led, or rather, carried high on camels, and fearing that we might fall off at any moment we hung suspended rather than sat as we crossed the vast desert. Half-cooked meat was our food and camels’ milk our drink.
5 ‘At last, after crossing a great river, we reached the interior of the desert. There we bowed our heads when ordered to pay homage to the mistress and her children, as is the custom of that tribe. Here, as if I were a prisoner, I learned to walk around in different clothes, in other words, naked. For the heat of that climate was so oppressive that it did not allow one to cover anything other than one’s private parts. I was assigned the task of looking after the sheep as they grazed, and in comparison with my other misfortunes I found this occupation a comfort for I rarely saw my masters and my fellow slaves. I felt that I was rather like the holy Jacob and I reminded myself of Moses, both of whom had once been shepherds in the wilderness. I lived on fresh cheese and milk; I prayed without ceasing and sang the psalms I had learned in the monastery. I enjoyed my captivity and gave thanks to God for his judgement because I had discovered in the desert the monk whom I had been about to lose in my own country.
6 But nothing is ever safe when the devil is around! How manifold and unspeakable are his wiles! For his malice found me out even in my hiding place. My master, seeing his flock grow and detecting in me no hint of dishonesty (for I knew that the Apostle had commanded us to serve our masters as faithfully as one serves God)8 wished to reward me so as to make me more faithful to him. So he offered me my fellow slave, the woman who had once been captured with me, as a wife. When I refused her, saying that I was a Christian and was not allowed to marry a woman whose husband was still alive (for her husband had been captured with us but had been carried off by a different master), my owner became implacable in his fury. He drew his sword and was on the point of attacking me. Had I not at once anticipated him by taking the woman in my arms, he would have shed my blood on the spot.
‘Now night had fallen, all too soon for me; it seemed even darker than usual. I led my new wife into a derelict cave, with sorrow as our bridesmaid, for we both detested each other but would not admit it. At that moment I really felt the pain of my captivity. I threw myself on the ground and began to lament the monastic state which I was losing, saying, “Is it for this that I have been preserved, wretch that I am? Have my sins brought me to the point where I, a virgin with greying hair, should become a husband? What was the point of renouncing my parents, my country, my family property for the Lord, if I now do the very thing which I rejected them in order to avoid doing? Or perhaps I am suffering all this because I was homesick. What are we to do, my soul? Are we to perish or win the victory? Shall we await the hand of the Lord or stab ourselves with our own sword? Turn your sword upon yourself, for your death, my soul, must be feared more than that of the body. Chastity preserved has its own martyrdom, too. Let this witness of Christ lie unburied in the desert: I shall be both martyr and my own persecutor.” With these words I drew my sword which gleamed in the darkness and turned its point towards myself. “Farewell, unhappy woman,” I said. “Take me as a martyr rather than in marriage.” Then she threw herself at my feet, saying, “I beg you in the name of Jesus Christ, I implore you by the crisis of this moment, do not shed your blood for I will be blamed for it. Or if you are determined to die, turn the sword on me first. It would be better for us to be united in this way. Even if my husband were to come back to me, I should preserve the chastity which captivity has taught me. I would rather die than lose it. Why should you die to avoid marrying me? I would die if you wished to be united with me. So take me as a partner in chastity and cherish the bond of the spirit rather than that of the body. Let our masters believe you to be a married man, let Christ know you as a brother. We shall easily convince them that we are married when they see us loving each other in this way.” I admit I was astounded. Admiring the woman’s virtue, I loved her more than a wife. But never did I see her body naked, never did I touch her flesh, for I was afraid to lose in peacetime what I had preserved in time of conflict. Many days passed in this form of marriage.9 Our union made us dearer to our masters and there was no suspicion that we might escape: sometimes I was away for a whole month in the wilderness as a trusted shepherd of the flock.
7 ‘After a long time, as I was sitting alone in the wilderness with nothing to see apart from earth and sky, I began to turn things over in my mind and to remember amongst other things the companionship of the monks, and in particular the face of the abbot who had taught me, who had held and lost me. Absorbed in these thoughts, I watched a huge number of ants swarming along a narrow path. You could see that their loads were larger than their bodies. Some were dragging grass seeds in the forceps of their jaws; others were piling up soil from pits and blocking off the flow of water with dams of earth. Some, mindful of the coming of winter, were chopping off the seeds which were brought in, to prevent the sodden earth turning their granaries into grass; others, in solemn lamentation, were bearing out the bodies of the dead. And what is more amazing, in this enormous procession not one of the ants going out got in the way of those going in; it was rather the case that if they saw one which had collapsed beneath the bundles and burdens, they helped it by putting their shoulders to the load. What more need I say? That day provided me with a wonderful spectacle which reminded me of Solomon when he directs us to the shrewdness of the ants and rouses our sluggish minds by means of this example.10 I began to tire of captivity, to miss the monastic cells and to long to imitate those ants which work together for the common good, and where all things belong to everyone since each owns nothing of his own.
8 ‘As I went back to bed the woman came to meet me: my expression could not conceal my sadness of heart. She asked why I was so downcast. I told her the reasons. I encouraged her to escape. She did not refuse. I demanded silence; she gave me her promise. Continuing our conversation in whispers, we wavered between hope and fear. In my flock I had two unusually large goats which I slaughtered. I then made their skins into bags; their meat I prepared as food for the journey. As soon as evening came, when our masters thought we were lying asleep by ourselves, we set out on our journey, carrying the bags and the bits of meat. On reaching the river ten miles away, we inflated the bags of skin. Climbing on to them we entrusted ourselves to the water and paddled slowly across with our feet, so that as the river carried us downstream and set us on the opposite bank a long way from the place where we had entered the water, our pursuers might lose our trail. But meanwhile the meat had become sodden and some of it had fallen out, so that it promised scarcely three days’ worth of food. We drank until we could drink no more, preparing ourselves for the thirst to come. We ran, constantly looking behind us and tending to move on at night rather than during the day, both on account of the danger of attacks from the Saracens who roamed that area far and wide, and on account of the excessive heat of the sun. I shudder even as I recall it, poor creature that I am, and even though I know that I am safe, my whole body still trembles.
9 ‘After three days, we saw indistinctly in the distance two people on camels approaching at great speed. At once my mind feared the worst and began to think that our master was planning to put us to death: the sun seemed to turn dark. We realized that we had been betrayed by our tracks across the sand: in our terror we noticed a cave on our right leading deep down beneath the ground. And so, although we were afraid of poisonous animals (for vipers, basilisks and scorpions as well as other creatures of this kind tend to seek the shade, wishing to escape the burning sun), we entered the cave, but immediately took shelter in a pit on our left, just inside the entrance, not going any further in case we should run into death while trying to escape death. We reasoned to ourselves that if the Lord helps those in trouble, we would be safe here; if he rejects sinners, this would provide us with a tomb. What do you imagine was our state of mind, what terror do you think we felt when, in front of the cave, at no distance at all, there stood our master and one of our fellow slaves: they had now reached our hiding place by following our tracks. How much worse is death anticipated than death actually inflicted! Again my tongue stammers with distress and fear as if our master were calling us, and I hardly dare utter a word. He sent the slave to drag us out of the cave while he held the camels; drawing his sword, he waited for us to come out. Meanwhile the servant had come about three or four paces in and we could see his back from our hiding place (for such is the nature of eyesight that when someone comes into the dark out of the sunlight he can see nothing). Then his voice echoed through the cave: ‘Come out, you villains, come out to die. What are you waiting for? Why do you delay? Come out, the master is calling and waiting patiently.’ He was still speaking when suddenly, through the darkness, we saw a lioness attack the man; when she had strangled him, she dragged his bloody body inside. Dear Jesus, what terror was ours at that moment, what joy! Unbeknown to our master we watched as our enemy died. When our master noticed that the slave was taking a long time, he suspected that the two of us were resisting the one man. Unable to control his anger, he came into the cave gripping his sword, and with furious shouts he rebuked the slave for taking such a long time, but before he reached our hiding place he was seized by the wild beast. Who would ever believe that before our very eyes a beast would fight to protect us? But although one cause of fear had been removed, we were presented with the prospect of a similar death for ourselves, unless it was better to endure a lion’s ferocity than a man’s anger. Shuddering inwardly, not even daring to move, we awaited the outcome, with only the consciousness of our chastity like a wall to protect us in the midst of these horrendous dangers. The lioness, wary of a trap and sensing that she had been seen, soon11 picked up her cub in her teeth and carried it out, leaving the lodging to us. However, we were not confident enough to rush out immediately but waited a long time, and while planning our escape, we kept imagining that we would meet the lioness again.
10 ‘When that day had passed and our terror had abated, we went out at evening and saw the camels (known as dromedaries on account of their exceptional speed) chewing the cud. We mounted them and refreshed by new provisions, we at last arrived at the Roman fort after ten days spent crossing the desert. Brought before the tribune, we set forth a detailed account of events. Then we were sent across to Sabinianus,12 the ruler of Mesopotamia, where we received a price for the camels. As that abbot of mine had by now fallen asleep in the Lord, I returned to that place and joined the monks once more, entrusting my wife to the virgins, for I loved her as a sister although I did not entrust myself to her as if she were my sister.’
The elderly Malchus told me this when I was a young man. I have related it to you, now that I myself am an old man. To the chaste I have unfolded a story of chastity: I exhort those of you who are virgins to preserve your chastity. Tell this story to later generations so that they may know that amid swords, amid wild beasts and desert regions, chastity is never taken captive, and that a person who is dedicated to Christ can die but cannot be defeated.