The
Fourteenth Day
Of the
Month of March
The Life of
Our
Holy Monastic Father
Benedict
The name Benedict means “blessed” and this saint was richly blessed with the grace of God. From childhood he possessed mature understanding, for his heart was detached from every carnal, temporal pleasure. Even in the bloom of youth he rejected all worldly allurements, regarding them as of no more value than wild flowers that quickly wither.
Benedict was born in the Italian
town of
One day, the nurse borrowed a
winnowing fan from neighbors and left it on the edge of a table. Upon return, she found it had slipped
off and broken in two. The poor woman burst into tears, because the fan was not
hers. Seeing his nurse weeping, Benedict took both halves, went off by himself,
fell prostrate before God, and prayed for a full hour. Upon rising, he noticed
that the two pieces were joined together, without even a mark to show where the
winnow was broken. Soon word of the miracle spread among the people. They hung
the fan at the entrance to their church, so that everyone who saw it would
glorify God and His grace and praise the Lord’s favorite, Benedict. That godly
one, however, could not endure to be acclaimed by men; therefore, he stole away
from his nurse and hid in the wilderness called Subiaco. That place is
twenty-three miles from
After three years, the time came for the shining lamp to be removed from beneath the bushel. On Pascha the Lord appeared in a vision to a presbyter who was preparing his festal meal. He said, “you intend to stuff yourself, while my servant Benedict is wasting away with hunger in a cave out of love for Me!” The lord explained where to find the grotto, and the presbyter, taking food, set out at once in search of the man of God. Having traversed mountains, ravines, and torrents, the priest found Benedict in his cave. The men exchanged a kiss in the Lord, then sat down and nourished their souls with spiritual conversation. Finally the presbyter told the saint, “Father, it is time to thank God and eat. Today is Pascha.”
“Indeed it is Pascha for me, because the Lord has brought you here,” replied the man of God, not realizing after his long seclusion that it really was the feast of the Resurrection.
“Truly, Father, it is the day of the Lord’s Resurrection,” insisted the presbyter. “You should not be fasting on such a joyous occasion. God sent me here so that we could share His gifts.” Following this they prayed, the presbyter thanking God for revealing His servant. Not many days later, shepherds discovered the cave, and visitors began coming in number, bringing the saint food. For his part, Benedict provided spiritual nurture for the Christians.
Maddened by Benedict’s holy life, the devil tried to lay a snare for the godly one. Assuming the form of a blackbird, he fluttered so close to Benedict’s face the saint easily could have grabbed him. The man of God realized this was a demonic temptation and crossed himself. The evil spirit vanished, but in the same instant, Benedict was assaulted by his most violent carnal temptation ever. The demon of fornication brought to mind a woman the venerable one had seen while still in the world, enkindling such a fire of lust in his emaciated flesh that our saint was almost brought to despair. Benedict was on the verge of abandoning the wilderness when, by the grace of God, he came to himself. Noticing a thick patch of nettles and briars, he threw aside his robes and cast himself into it, rolling and tossing until his whole body was stung by thorns and covered in blood. This put an end to his vile thoughts, for which he thanked the Lord. By God’s grace, so utter was the victory that the demon of fornication never again troubled him, as Benedict told his disciples.
While report of the saint was spreading, the abbot of a nearby monastery died. The monks asked Benedict to become their guide and pastor, but he refused on the grounds that he was a sinner and unworthy; moreover, he insisted, “My way of life and yours can never be reconciled.” Eventually, however, Benedict yielded and against his will became their abbot. He governed the community strictly, instituting a severe regime of fasting and tolerating none of the former disobedience. As a result, the wayward monks regretted having chosen him, and the most evil of them poisoned his wine. When they offered him the deadly glass at the common meal in the refectory, out venerable father traced the sign of the Cross over it. Immediately the glass shattered, as if struck by a rock. The man of God realized that the holy cross had this effect because the wine was poisoned. Calm and smiling, he assembled the brethren and asked them, “Children, why did you do this? I told you from the start that my way of life and yours could never be reconciled. Find another abbot. I can stay here no longer.” With this he blessed them and returned to the cave, where he resumed his struggles unseen except by God, from Whom nothing is hidden.
Nonetheless, it was the Lord’s will that Benedict should guide others to heaven, rather than tread the path of salvation alone. He Who arranges all things for the best entrusted to the saint a much larger flock than before. Whereas previously He had committed one monastery to Benedict’s care, now He appointed the saint overseer of twelve. Word of the venerable one’s angelic life spread ever further, and again visitors began coming, some for prayers and a blessing; others to hear his edifying, divinely inspired teaching; others because they wanted to become disciples. Many forsook the world and built huts near the cave. They grew their own food, and in a few years had so greatly increased in number that the thicket was full of them. Consequently, the saint divided the monks into twelve groups of twelve, each with an experienced superior. The brotherhoods erected separate monasteries; the novices, however, remained with Benedict, since he felt they needed his personal guidance. It happened about the same time that several nobles from Rome brought their children to Benedict for schooling in God’s service. Euthicius, a man of renowned lineage, brought his boy Maurus, and Senator Tertullus, his son Placidus. Maurus was older and proved very helpful to the saint. Placidus was so young that Benedict’s teaching was almost his first food after he was weaned.
In one of Saint Benedict’s monasteries, there was a heedless brother who would leave the church during services. Despite frequent reprimands by the abbot, he did not correct himself. Learning of this, Benedict summoned the monk, and exhorted him at length, but the transgressor failed to mend his ways. Then our venerable father went to the offender’s monastery, attended a service, and saw a black boy pulling a misdoer out of a church by the edge of his habit. The godly one asked the monks standing nearby, “Do you see who is dragging that brother out of the chapel?”
“No, Father,” they answered. The saint prayed, and God opened the inner eyes of the brethren. The next day the others could see the little Ethiopian tugging at the monk, and they informed the man of God. After the service, Benedict again spoke, with the offender, this time harshly. Not only did the Lord’s favorite, ordinarily so meek, upbraid the monk; but he gave him a good thrashing with his staff, too. So doing, he drove off the demon. It was almost as if the imp had received the blows and was afraid of more if he returned. Following this, the brother rectified himself.
One of the monasteries stood on the bare rocky heights, and it was a hardship for the brethren to haul up water. The monks requested our venerable father’s permission to move to another site. The godly one told them to be patient, and that night he and Placidus scaled the cliff. After praying for a long time on bended knees, the saint called forth a stream, like Moses for thirsting Israel in the desert. The water sufficed for all the monastery’s needs and rushed down to the ravine below.
At another of Benedict’s monasteries, a brother was digging a garden on the riverbank, and the head of his spade flew into the middle of the stream. The poor man was very downcast, because the river was in full flood and there seemed to be no way to recover the iron blade from the deep, rushing water. Then Saint Benedict happened by and seeing the downcast brother, worked a miracle like that wrought by Elisha. Taking the wooden handle, he thrust it into the water. When he brought it up, the head had reattached itself. Handing the spade back to the monk, the godly one told him, “Get on with your work; there is no need to be upset.”
One day, the blessed Benedict was keeping to himself and sent Placidus to fetch water. While filling the jug, the boy lost his balance and was carried away by the river. Seeing this with his inner eyes, Benedict called out, “Run, brother Maurus, run! Placidus has fallen into the river and it has swept him away.” Maurus ran to the bank and saw Placidus drowning. He continued running on the surface of the water, pulled the lad out of the river, and dragged him to land. Only then did he realize what he had done. Terrified, he returned with Placidus to our father. Benedict would not take any credit for the deed, but ascribed it to his disciple’s unhesitating obedience. Maurus insisted that the miracle was due solely to his elder’s prayers. The dispute was settled by Placidus, who testified, “Father, I saw your mantle over my head as you dragged me to land. Only when I reached the bank did I see Maurus.”
Because the fame of Benedict’s astounding miracles and the number of his disciples continued to increase, a local presbyter named Florentius became jealous of the saint. Incited by a demon, the priest bitterly slandered and publicly condemned the man of God. In spite of this, Benedict’s reputation for holiness grew daily and, with it, the devotion of the people. Infuriated because no one paid him the least heed, the wretch poisoned a prosphoron and sent it to Saint Benedict. Although the treacherous deed could not be hidden from his inner eyes, the clairvoyant elder thankfully accepted the loaf.
At mealtime a raven always came and took bread from our godly father’s hand. This time Benedict offered it the loaf given him by the presbyter Florentius, saying, “in the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, drop this bread somewhere neither man nor bird will find it.” Flapping its wings and cawing, the raven circled the loaf as if to indicate it wanted to obey but could not, because of the poison. “Take it,” insisted the man of God; do not be afraid. It will do you no harm. Just drop it where it cannot be found.” After much hesitation the raven obeyed, flying away with the loaf it its beak. Three hours later it came back for its meal.
Our father prayed for Florentius more than for himself, begging God not to count the presbyter’s resentment and hatred as sin, but to correct him. Florentius, however, was incorrigible. Having failed to poison the master, he devised an infernal plan to corrupt the disciples. One day, while young monks were at work in the garden, Florentius sent seven beautiful girls there. The hussies stripped naked, danced, clapped their hands, sang and performed every shameless contortion, in order to inflame the brethren with degrading lust. Seeing this, Saint Benedict understood that the attack was aimed at him alone and decided to let envy have its way. He assembled all his abbots and monks, appointed a new elder, and committed the brethren to God’s care, then humbly departed with a few of his youngest disciples. Florentius was overjoyed to be rid of Benedict, but the Lord God of vengeance quickly requited the evil presbyter for harassing His guileless servant. While Florentius was sitting on his balcony congratulating himself, it collapsed and he was instantly killed. No one else in the house was injured. Word of this soon reached Benedict’s monasteries, and the saint’s beloved disciple, the blessed Maurus (one of those left behind), sent this message to the Lord’s favorite: “Return, Father; the presbyter who caused you so much trouble has perished!” The venerable one wept bitterly for Florentius and, extremely displeased with Maurus for rejoicing over the presbyter’s death, he imposed a penance on his disciple. Although Florentius was no more, Benedict did not return to the cave, but settled near the town of Cassino in Campania. Yet however much the saint changed his habitation, his true enemy remained the same. If anything, the devil’s assaults became even fiercer; but no matter how violent the struggle, God’s favorite, having the help of Christ, ever prevailed.
There was a heathen temple dedicated to Apollo in a grove on the mountain where Benedict took up his dwelling. After smashing the idol, destroying the temple, and cutting down the grove, the venerable one built a chapel dedicated to Saint John the Baptist. He also founded a monastery, which grew quickly. When he arrived, there were still many idolaters in the countryside, but the peer of the apostles, mighty in word and deed, won them for Christ with his zealous preaching, which was confirmed by miracles. Enraged because of their losses, the demons attacked the saint visibly, breathing fire and screeching, “Benedict, Benedict!” When the man of God would not answer, the demons howled, “Maledictus, Maledictus, non Benedictus!” which means, “Accursed! Accursed, not ‘blessed’! what have we to do with you? Why do you persecute us?” But their protest were in vain, for wit prayer and the sign of the Cross the blessed Benedict swept them away like dust.
It happened that while the brethren were building the upper level of the monastery, the saint was alone in his cell praying and saw a demon passing by. “Where are you going enemy?” Benedict asked.
“I am on my way to visit the monks at their work,” answered the devil. Immediately, the saint sent word to the brethren to be on the guard against temptation, as a demon was approaching. Just as they received the message, the whole was under construction collapsed, killing a young monk. In their grief over the brother’s death, the others hardly noticed the extent of the damage. Weeping bitterly, they told their father about the terrible accident. Benedict commanded them to bring him the corpse. So badly crushed was the dead man that the monks did not carry him in their arms, but on a hair shirt. The venerable one had them put the body on his rush prayer-mat; then he sent everyone out and closed the door. God heard his fervent entreaties and raised the dead as though from sleep, so that the young monk, without a trace of injury, was back to work with the brethren before the day was done.
It was a strictly observed custom of the house, instituted by Benedict himself, that brethren away on errands did not eat or drink outside the monastery. Once, a few of the monks were sent so far they were out until late in the evening. On the way back, they stopped for a meal at the home of a devout consecrated virgin. Upon return, they presented themselves to their father for a blessing. He asked, “Where did you eat?”
“Nowhere, Father,” they answered.
“Why are you lying? You entered the house of the pious maiden so-and-so, ate this food and that, and drank such-and-such a quantity of wine,” he said.
Hearing this, the monks were amazed that their father knew what they had done far away. They fell prostrate, confessing their misdeed and begging for forgiveness. When another monk fell into the same sin on a different occasion, Benedict confronted him in the same manner. Because of the saint’s clairvoyance, his monks were afraid to do or say anything indiscreet, wherever they were. They learned that their father was always with them in spirit, listening to their conversations and observing their actions, and that they could not escape accounting to him.
About that time Totila, King of the Goths, was in Campania. He heard tell of the venerable one and decided to visit Benedict and test his clairvoyance. To this end he sent to the Lord’s favorite his sword-bearer Riggo, dressed in royal apparel as if he were really the King. When Riggo and his enormous escort of chieftains and warriors were still some distance from Benedict, the godly one shouted, “My son, lay aside the robes! They are not yours, but belong to him who sent you.” Terror-stricken, Riggo sank to his knees. After receiving report of what had happened, King Totial humbly came to prostrate himself before God’s clairvoyant elder. Saint Benedict rebuked the King for his innumerable crimes and foretold what would happen to him. “With God’s permission you will capture Rome, cross the sea, reign for nine years, and die in the tenth,” he said. And so it happened.
God also granted power over demons to Saint Benedict. A cleric of the Church of Aquino was tormented by a devil and had been sent by his bishop, Constantius, to the shrines of various martyrs, but the holy martyrs did not grant him the favor of a cure. When he was brought to Benedict, however, the man of God healed him by prayer. After driving out the wicked spirit, Saint Benedict charged the cleric, “Never again eat meat, and never accept the priesthood. The day you are ordained priest, you will find yourself in Satan’s power again.” The man returned home completely cured. As long as his suffering was fresh in his mind, he obeyed the saint’s command. Years passed, however, and he watched his juniors being advanced to the priesthood as older men died. Jealousy stirred in him and he began seeking ordination. On the very day he attained his desire, a ferocious devil gained control of him and mercilessly tortured him to death.
A nobleman from Cassino named Theoprobus was converted from idolatry to the true faith by the divinely wise Benedict. Because of his virtuous life, he enjoyed his spiritual father’s love and favor. One day, Theoprobus entered the godly one’s room and found Benedict weeping and lamenting. What especially worried the nobleman was that these were not Benedict’s usual tears of compunction during prayer, but tears of distress. When this continued for a long time, Theoprobus asked what it meant. The saint, sobbing and moaning, explained, “God Almighty has decreed that barbarians shall destroy this monastery and plunder everything I have, with His assistance, provided for the brotherhood. Only with the greatest difficulty did I prevail upon Him to safeguard the lives of the monks.” While Saint Benedict lived, the monastery prospered, but after his death, the prediction was fulfilled. One night Lombards attacked while the community was asleep. They pillaged the monastery and destroyed the buildings, but all the brethren escaped, by the prayers of our holy father Benedict.
A devout man sent two jars of wine to the venerable one, but his servant brought only to Benedict, hiding the other on the way. When he dismissed the slave, our clairvoyant father warned him, “Child, do not drink from the jar you concealed by the wayside, but tip it and see what is inside.” Put to shame by the reproof, the servant bowed and departed. Wishing to test the saint’s words, he tilted the jar before carrying it away. A snake slithered out and the horrified slave repented of his transgression.
Not far from the saint’s monastery, there was a community of virgins living in a village of former idolaters converted by Benedict. From time to time the venerable one sent experienced brethren to instruct the nuns in the word of God. Once, the monk sent was about to leave the convent and the sisters pressed him to take a few handkerchiefs. The brother put the gift in his bosom and left. When he returned to the monastery, the saint rebuked him, saying, “How is it, Brother, that the evil one has found a way into your heart?” The monk had no idea why he was being reproached, because he had completely forgotten about the handkerchiefs. “Do you think I was absent when you hid the nun’s present?” asked Benedict. At this the offender fell at the saint’s feet and begged forgiveness.
Late one evening, the man of God was having his supper, and a young monk, the son of a wealthy, high-ranking official, was holding a lamp for him. Arrogant thoughts whispered to the brother, “Why should I have to stand here like a slave, holding a lamp for a commoner?”
Such thoughts could not be hidden from the clairvoyant elder. Straightway, Benedict asked him meekly, as would a father, “Child, why do you allow proud thoughts to needle you? Trace the sign of the Cross over your heart, and be attentive to yourself.” The saint had one of the novices take the lamp, and the erring monk left the cell to weep. When the brethren inquired why their father had asked him to leave, the monk replied that it was on account of his pride. Everyone was astonished at how Benedict knew even the most secret thoughts of the heart.
There was a famine in Campania, and the venerable one’s monastery was not spared the terrible shortage of bread. At one point only five loaves remained, insufficient even for a single meal. Seeing the brethren in despair, Benedict scolded them, “why are you downcast about our lack of bread, O ye of little faith? Put your trust in God, Who never forsakes those who labor for Him. Have your forgotten the Saviour’s words in the Gospel, Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you? Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask Him. Do not be fainthearted. Today you lack; tomorrow you shall have more than you need.” The next morning the brethren found two hundred measures of flour in sacks at the monastery gates. No one could say who had delivered them or whence they came, but it was clear that God had provided them, by the prayers of our father Benedict.
A devout layman requested the venerable one to erect a monastery on his estate near Tarracina, to which the man of God agreed. Having selected monks for the task, Benedict told them to clear the land and prepare the necessary materials, adding, “I will come on such-and-such a day and show you the exact site for each building.” The monks did as instructed and awaited their father’s coming. Before dawn on the appointed day, Saint Benedict appeared to the brethren in a dream, showing them where to put the church, refectory, infirmary, cells, and other buildings. Upon awakening, the monks were amazed to discover that all had the same dream, but wonder turned to disappointment when their father did not arrive that day or the next. Finally, they went to him and protested, “Reverend Father, we were expecting you to show us where to build. Why did you fail to come.”
“What are you saying, brethren!” objected the saint. “I did come”
“Father, you did not,” insisted the monks.
“Have you forgotten that I appeared in a dream and pointed out the sites?” asked the saint. “Go back and begin construction according to my orders.” The monks returned to the estate and did as commanded.
Not far from Cassino two of noble birth were leading the ascetic life in their own home. Although chaste, they were overcritical, and often judged, disparaged, and upbraided others. The godly Benedict sent them this message: “If you do not curb your sharp tongues, I shall have to excommunicate you.”
Before long, both virgins died without even acknowledging our father’s letter, much less showing any signs of amendment. They were buried side by side in a church. Whenever the Divine Liturgy was celebrated there and the deacon commanded the catechumens to depart, members of the congregation saw the maidens leave their graves and go outside for the rest of the service. This was reported to Saint Benedict, who took pity on the virgins and sent a prosphoron to that church with instructions that it be offered for their souls at the Liturgy. After this was done, no one ever again beheld the maidens departing. Evidently, God had forgiven them, through the holy sacrifice and the prayers of the venerable one.
A young monk living in Saint Benedict’s monastery was too attached to his parents according to the flesh and often visited their home without our father’s blessing. One day he secretly left the monastery, and as soon as he entered his parents’ house, he died. Learning this, the brethren retrieved his body and committed it to the earth. The next day they found the corpse lying outside the grave. They buried it again, only to find it a day later in the same place. The parents threw themselves in tears at Saint Benedict’s feet, pleading that he take pity on their son and, by the power of the grace within him, command the ground to accept the corpse. Moved by their grief, the godly one placed a small portion of the Holy Mysteries on the chest of the dead monk as he was returned to the grave. After this his body remained undisturbed in the earth.
The man of God was very kind and merciful. He loved the poor and was generous to them. Whatever money God sent to the monastery, Benedict gave away as alms, such that the brethren lived in poverty. One day a pious laymen who had fallen into debt came and begged the saint for twenty pieces of gold, and amount he owed a stern creditor insisting on payment. At that time three was not a penny in the monastery, so the saint replied, “Forgive me, brother; I cannot give you that much now. Come back the day after tomorrow.” The saint resorted to prayer, entreating God to deliver the man from his plight. On the third day the debtor returned, bowed before the saint, and asked to be given the promised assistance. At that very moment the monks found thirteen gold coins on the lid of a pot of vegetable soup. Our compassionate father gave the money to the debtor, saying, “Child, pay your creditor the twelve pieces of gold and keep the thirteenth for your own needs.”
It happened that once the man of God was working in the fields with the brethren, and a peasant came to the monastery carrying his son’s lifeless body. Brokenhearted at his loss, the rustic begged to see our venerable father. On learning that the saint was in the fields, he left his child at the entrance to the monastery and hurried off to find Benedict. At it happened, Benedict was already returning when the peasant caught sight of him. With tears streaming down his cheeks, the man cried, “Father, give be back my son! Give me back my son!”
“Have I taken your son?” asked the Lord’s favorite.
“My son is dead; bring him back to life!” the father implored.
Although truly sorry for the man, the venerable one told his monks, “We must flee, brethren; we must flee! Such a miracle is beyond our power. Only the holy apostles can raise the dead.”
At this the father, overcome by grief, vowed, “I will not leave until you raise my son!”
When Saint Benedict reached the entrance to the monastery, he fell prostate beside the corpse, as did the other monks, and he prayed, “O Lord, regard no my sins, but the faith of this man, who asketh Thee to bring back his son from the dead. I entreat Thee to return the boy’s soul to its body.” Before the saint could complete his supplication, the child stirred. Benedict took the lad by the hand and presented him alive and well to his father.
In the second book of his Dialogues, Saint Gregory, Pope of Rome, relates many other astonishing miracles worked by our father Benedict; however, since we cannot relate all of them, we shall limit ourselves to a few more and bring our account to its conclusion.
Benedict had a sister named Scholastica, who was consecrated to God in infancy by her parents. She had kept her virginity and spent her whole life pleasing the Lord by ascetical labors. Once a year, Scholastica visited her holy brother. Benedict received her in a house belonging to the community, a short distance from the monastery, and the saints spent the time together conversing about edifying topics. The last time the blessed Scholastica visited him, Benedict brought several disciples to the house. As usual, the saints talked about the devout life and told stories. After sunset they ate, then continued the discussion until quite late. The holy virgin said to the godly one, “Brother, please remain here the rest of the night, and we will speak until morning about the joys of heaven and everlasting life.”
“Sister, what are you saying?” marveled Benedict. “You know I cannot spend the night away from the monastery.”
Seeing that her brother was not about to yield, the holy virgin folded her hands on the table, rested her head on them, and in the secret chamber of her heart offered fervent prayer to Almighty God. Although it had been a clear, cloudless night, when she lifted her head, fearsome thunder roared, bolts of lightning fell, and rain poured out of the sky. So powerful were his sister’s entreaties that Benedict and his disciples could not even open the doors, much less return to the monastery. Realizing that Scholastica’s prayers had brought about the storm, Benedict asked, “Why did you do this sister?”
“I appealed to you, brother, but you would not listen, so I turned to God and He heard me,” replied Scholastica. “Go to your monastery now, if you think it possible.” This Benedict could not do, so he was forced to stay. The saints talked the whole night about eternal life, and at dawn parted, having said their farewells. Three days later Saint Benedict was praying and happened to look into the sky. The soul of his blessed sister in the form of a radiant dove was flying to heaven, where it was received into the celestial mansions. Benedict was overjoyed that Scholastica had been accounted worthy of such honor, gave thanks to God, and informed the brethren of her repose. He ordered his monks to bring her holy body to his monastery, and he buried the precious treasure in his own tomb.
Not many days afterwards, the deacon Servandus came to visit Benedict. He was a man full of divine grace and abbot of a Campanian monastery built by a patrician named Liberius. While engaged in edifying conversation about the celestial inheritance which was not yet fully theirs to enjoy, the two holy men groaned contritely and by reflection on God tasted in part that sweetest of all sustenance. At supper they sighed repeatedly and could think only of the incorruptible food. That night our venerable father Benedict slept in his cell on the uppermost story, and his blessed guest was given the room immediately below. After resting a little, Benedict awoke and began to pray. Shortly before midnight, the godly one looked out of the window and saw a light shine down from heaven, so brilliant that the night became brighter than day. It seemed as though he could see the whole world contained in that beam. Gazing at the dazzling display, the saint beheld the soul of the blessed Germanus, Bishop of Capua, being carried by angels to heaven in a ball of fire. Whishing for someone else to witness the marvel, the venerable Benedict called out two or three times in a loud voice for his guest. Servadus was startled at hearing Benedict shout for him at such an hour, and rushed to the upper room just in time to glimpse the last of the ineffable light. The man of God related what had happened, then immediately sent his beloved disciple Theoprobus to Cassino with instructions to dispatch a rider to Capua to learn what had happened to the holy Bishop Germanus. Word soon came that Saint Germanus had died at the very hour the godly Benedict had seen the angels taking his soul to heaven.
Before long Saint Benedict announced that he would also be leaving the body and going to the Lord. Six days before his death, he ordered his tomb opened. Straightway, he fell ill and took to his bed, but he continued teaching the brethren. At this time Benedict dictated his Rule for Monks. On the day of his repose he had the monks take him into the chapel of Saint John the Baptist which he had built on the site of the temple of Apollo. After partaking of the divine Mysteries, he lifted his hands to God, prayed, and breathed his last. Benedict’s soul flew to the splendid mansions of heaven to dwell with the Lord, upon Whom the man of God had always fixed his gaze.
At the moment when Benedict’s soul was departing the body, two monks, one on an errand, the other praying in his cell, saw the same vision. Both beheld a path leading from earth to heaven, strewn with costly robes and illumined on either side by torches. Above the path stood a man who shone brilliantly and whose appearance was indescribably majestic. The monks heard him say that Benedict, the Lord’s beloved, had just taken that path to heaven. Although the monks were located far from each other, in the vision they were standing together. Both rushed to the funeral of their holy father and related to the brethren what they had seen. Weeping and lamenting, layfolk from town and country, and monks from all the communities founded by the venerable one, as well as from other monasteries in the region, came to bury Saint Benedict. They laid the saint’s body to rest in the Church of the Baptist, praising Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the one God in Trinity, glorified by all creation forever.
Amen.
On this same day we commemorate our father among the saints Euschemon the Confessor, Bishop of Lamsacus. He was fettered and exiled for the holy icons during the reign of Leo the Isaurian.