Saint Martinian

Having thus agreed, she went to her lodging, stripped off her fine clothes, folded them into a bundle, and, having dressed herself in poor rags and a rope belt, she took a staff in her hand and the bundle under her arm. In this attire, she left the city in a heavy rain, to arrive at the edge of the night near Martinian's cell. Having arrived there, she began to cry out in a pitiful voice: "Have pity on me, servant of God! I am a poor woman who has lost my way on these paths; I do not know where to go or where to take shelter so as not to be devoured by beasts. Holy Father, have compassion on this creature of God, although I am a miserable sinner." Martinian was touched by these sad cries, and, opening the door of his cell, he caught sight of this stranger so soaked by the rain that she moved him to pity; and although he suspected that it was a bait from his enemy to make him lose the grace of God, nevertheless, out of compassion, and fearing that if she were devoured he would be responsible, he threw himself into the arms of divine Providence, opened the door for her, made her a good fire, gave her dates for her supper, and finally warned her to leave the next day early in the morning. As for him, he withdrew into another cell, which was further into his hermitage, and spent the night praying and singing psalms, despite the artifices of the spirit of impurity, which did its best to distract him, proposing to him a thousand foolish ideas concerning this new hostess. In the morning, the holy hermit having come out of his cell to go and dismiss his hostess, was very astonished to find a person admirably adorned, instead of a beggar whom he thought he had lodged, for Zoe had put on during the night the precious clothes she had brought in her bundle. He thought at first that it was a ghost, and asked her who she was, what she was looking for, and how she had entered. But when he had recognized that it was this poor woman whom he had received the previous evening, his surprise increased; and, beginning to look at her, he asked her where this change of clothes came from. Then she began to tempt him in a way so seductive that she overcame this invincible heart and drew from his will an interior consent to sin. He would undoubtedly have fallen into it, had divine mercy not prevented the exterior effect; but Martinian left his cell to see if anyone was coming to look for him, as was the custom, and, while he was looking on all sides for fear of scandalizing those who might find him with this woman, God opened the eyes of his soul by a ray of His grace, and revealed to him the turpitude of the action he was about to commit and the precipice into which he was about to fall. Immediately, recognizing the extreme danger in which he was, and considering that it was not so much a woman as a spirit of hell that was tempting him by its artifices to triumph over his chastity and strip him of all the merits of his past life, he returned to his cell, lit a great fire, and rolled himself in the flames until he had burned a part of his body; then, rising after some time, he said to himself: "What do you think, Martinian; did this fire not seem very pleasant to you for the short time you remained in it? If you think you can suffer that of hell, accept the propositions of this woman, for that is the path to go there." He threw himself for the second time into the fire, in order to burn himself more, praying for the mercy of the heavenly Father to forgive him this consent and not to allow him to lose through one sin so many hardships he had endured in His service since his childhood, since he was ready to die in this fire for His love rather than offend Him.

This wretched woman was present at this spectacle, and, considering that she was the cause of Martinian's torment, she stripped off her worldly garments and threw them into the fire, and having taken up those of a pilgrim and penitent, she said to Martinian, with tears interrupted by a thousand sighs, that she no longer wished to return to the city, but that she desired to end her days in perpetual penance, in such a place as he would mark out for her; that the demon had, it is true, solicited her to ruin him, but that God wished to use him to raise her up and save her. Thus, by the counsel of the holy hermit, she went to Bet hlehem, Bethléem Place of the birth and anointing of David. where she was received into a monastery by a virgin named Pau la, and Pauline Daughter of Artemius, healed of demonic possession. lived there for twelve years in such austerity and holiness of life that God performed, through her, several wonders; after which He called her to Himself to crown her with His glory.

Martinian remained so burned and crippled that he was not healed for a long time; and, reflecting afterwards on the means his enemy had used to ruin him, he resolved within himself to seek a solitude so remote that no woman could come to find him there. Having therefore made his prayer, he implored the assistance of heaven and abandoned himself to the guidance of the Almighty; then, making the sign of the cross, he left his cell and went towards the sea. The demon, all swollen with pride to see him leave the battlefield, began to hiss at him, crying after him: "Flee, Martinian, for I will pursue you wherever you go, and will drive you from there just as well as from here; I will never leave you until I have completely defeated and overthrown you." The Saint answered him: "You, wretch! Know that I am not leaving my cell out of boredom or disgust, but only in the desire to trample you underfoot; and you should not take vanity from the outcome of the combat, since I have snatched from you the weapons you used to harm me, and the woman you pushed to ruin me will be your confusion." The demon, hearing him speak in this manner, dared not say anything more to him nor pursue him; and Martinian, singing psalms and hymns to the glory of his Lord, arrived at the seashore. He asked a God-fearing sailor where he might find a place suitable for his purpose and where he would not be disturbed by anyone. The sailor told him that there was, far out in the sea, a desert island where there was an uninhabitable rock that terrified all who approached it. Martinian begged him to take him to this place, which was the one he was looking for, and made him promise to bring him from time to time palm branches, bread, and water to live on, assuring him furthermore that he would pray to God for him and would give him as his reward all the baskets that he would make. He was therefore taken to this rock, where he was visited three times a year by the sailor and received from him everything he needed for his sustenance. It is not easy to express his joy when he saw himself on the rock, in the middle of the sea, where women, whose approach he feared more than all the spirits of hell, had no way of coming to look for him.

But, to show that there is no safe retreat in this world, he who had waged war against him in his cell and forced him to leave it, dared to attack him in this fortress which he deemed unassailable. Sometimes he even troubled the sea so violently that the rock seemed no more than a deep valley in which Martinian was about to be engulfed; nevertheless, this Saint remained tranquil, and, mocking him, he forced him to flee in shame. He had already spent six years in this solitude, which he believed inaccessible; he finally recognized that there is no place where the occasion to offend God cannot present itself, whether on land, in the waters, or in fire: for a vessel sailing on this sea came to break against the rock, and all those who were inside were submerged, except for a young girl who, saving herself by means of a plank, came to cling to the rock. She perceived the Saint from there and cried out to him: "Help me, servant of God, give me your hand and pull me from this abyss, or I am lost." Martinian was quite astonished at this spectacle; and, recognizing that it was a new invention of his enemy, he armed himself with prayer; and because he was obliged to assist a person in danger of drowning, he pulled her from the water, then said to her: "My daughter, we cannot remain here together; stay here and eat my provisions of bread and water, until the boatman who comes to visit me has returned, which he should do in two months: you will tell him the story of your shipwreck, and he will take you to the city."

Then he exhorted her to practice virtue and to live in the fear of Our Lord; and, having made the sign of the cross over the sea, he said to God, his eyes raised toward heaven: "I cast myself into the sea, O my God! with the confidence I have in you; I would rather be submerged than be in danger of losing my chastity"; and he began to swim to save himself. But Providence, which never fails when it is a question of protecting its elect, sent two dolphins that carried him on their backs to the shore, where the Saint gave thanks to his Deliverer and prayed to Him to inspire him as to what he should do. Reflecting then on how he was importuned by the demon on land and on sea, in deserts and on rocks, he resolved to stop no longer in any place, but to travel the world as a pilgrim, begging for his bread; he did this for the space of two years that he still lived, spending the night wherever he happened to be and receiving in the villages the alms that were given to him out of charity.

When he had arrived in Athens, Athènes Place of origin of a student who criticized the eloquence of Alexander. it pleased God to reward the labors, the struggles, and the victories of His servant; this is why He revealed to the bishop that Martinian was in the city and at the same time disclosed to him the merit of this holy personage. The bishop came to find him in the church, where he was lying on a bench; Martinian asked for his blessing and begged him to pray to God for him; the bishop did so, administered the sacraments to him, and also prayed him not to forget him when he would be before God. Then, Martinian having said: "Lord, into your hands I commend my spirit," and having made the sign of the cross, rendered his spirit with a joyful and satisfied face, in the presence of the bishop, on February 13, 830.

The young girl who remained on the rock, profiting from the example of Martinian, lived on the bread and water he had left her; and, at the end of two months, the boatman having come, she told him what had happened and begged him to bring her a man's garment with bread, water, and wool, and to bring his wife to teach her how to work: having obtained what she asked for, she lived six years on the rock, dressed as a man. She was twenty-five years old when she was shipwrecked there, and died holily in the thirty-first year of her age: her name was Photina. Two months later, the boatman returned as was his custom to bring her provisions, and, finding her dead, he carried her body to the city of Caesarea; having informed t he bishop who sh ville de Césarée Episcopal see of Theodoret. e was, the state of her life, and the manner in which she had died, this prelate had her buried with pomp and ceremony, as was fitting for a faithful servant of God.

Such is the life of Saint Martinian, hermit, so persecuted and so often fought by the common enemy of men, defeated and victorious, and who has gloriously triumphed over the flesh, the world, and hell. He was honored throughout the East, but especially in Constantinople in a church near Hagia Sophia.

The dolphins that carried our Saint on their backs from the reef to the shore; the devil the tempter in the form of a dragon; the courtesan in one or another of her garments; the burning hearth on which he lay to dispel the intoxication of a fleeting pleasure, are the attributes that enter into the representations that have been given of Saint Martinian. — Martin de Vos painted Photina saving herself by swimming and landing on the rock on which the her Photine A young shipwreck survivor who succeeded Martinian in his life as a hermit on the rock. mit makes wicker baskets.

His history is drawn from Simeon Metaphrastes, who claims to have known Saint Martinian hi mself; Surtus repo Siméon Métaphraste Byzantine hagiographer, author of the Acts of the Saints. rted it in his second volume. Rollandos believes that he lived in the 4th century, and not in the 9th, and that Fausta or Paulina, who received into her monastery Zoe, that impudent woman who tempted him, and whom he converted, is the great Saint Paula, the Roman, disciple of Saint Jerome. But, as Simeon Metaphrastes, who was of the 9th century, asserts that he saw her, and that he calls this Paula or Paulina a virgin, which one cannot say at least in the ordinary sense of Saint Paula, the Roman, there is reason to doubt the truth of this author's observation.