Dr Augustine Sokolovski
On the day of the summer solstice, the Church commemorates a great many saints. Among the most recent are the saints of the Synaxis of the Ivanovo Diocese of the Russian Church, or the Ivanovo-Voznesensk Diocese, as the city was known before the Revolution. These are saints of the Russian Church, above all the numerous New Martyrs and Confessors, both known and unknown.
Among the ancient saints, let us remember Saint Theodotus of Ancyra. Ancyra is modern-day Ankara, the capital of Turkey. In antiquity, it was a very important ecclesiastical metropolis and a place where important Church councils were held. It is deeply regrettable, even tragic, that today there is not a single Orthodox church in Ankara, and divine services are celebrated only through the hospitality of Catholics—that is, formally speaking, in a place not properly designated for Orthodox worship. Why this detail is significant will become clear through the life of Saint Theodotus.
The saint lived during a time when persecutions by pagans were still raging, most likely in the second century. He is known as Theodotus of Ancyra or Theodotus the Tavern-Keeper. A tavern-keeper is one who manages an inn or tavern. He owned a drinking establishment and at the same time secretly buried Christians who had been killed by pagans.
In the city there was a priest named Polychronius. We do not know whether this was his real name or a nickname given to him by the hagiographers, for Polychronius means “long-lived” or “one filled with life.” Perhaps there is a subtle irony here that readers of the saint’s life have not always noticed over the centuries: a man who considered himself destined to live long and prosper, even at the expense of others.
When a new wave of persecution arose and the pagans began asking who was burying the slain Christians, this priest denounced Theodotus.
We do not know the motives behind his denunciation. Yet one may suppose that ordinary human envy played a role. When the city’s churches were under oppression and ecclesiastical life was severely restricted, the Divine Liturgy, according to the Life, was celebrated in Theodotus’s house—that is, essentially in the tavern, since the owner usually lived on the premises.
It is entirely possible that the priest found it difficult to see people gathering not around him but around a man who, in his view, may have seemed unworthy of such a role. Perhaps Polychronius, who intended to live a long and prosperous life, lost the income associated with people’s visits. Very often this is how envy works.
There is a remarkable song by the band Rammstein called “Eifersucht” (“Envy”). This passion is portrayed there with extreme severity. Its meaning is roughly this: if you like my eyes, tear them out; if you admire my mind, consume it; if my soul is pure, burn it to ashes. Envy does not want to acquire the good possessed by another. Envy wants the other person not to have that good at all. It seeks to destroy the object of its envy—and therefore to destroy itself. For, as the great philosopher Emmanuel Levinas wrote, the neighbor is, in a sense, myself.
In this respect, secular artists sometimes become a kind of secular prophet. They can describe human passions more accurately and mercilessly than is often customary in church circles. We frequently try to soften things, to choose gentler words, or employ ecclesiastical terms—those genuine neutralizers of meaning,. Yet passion itself appears terrifying. It truly devours a person alive, as Rammstein sings.
The Life of Saint Theodotus and his commemoration teach us that people are different. There are those whom it is very easy to condemn. Outwardly they seem almost destined for condemnation, and many do condemn them. Then there are those who appear outwardly impeccable, against whom there seems to be no charge and no reason for reproach. Incidentally, church canons view taverns unfavorably, and clerics are even forbidden to visit them.
But when a person becomes convinced that he is right, that he stands on the threshold of great achievements, that he has defended his cause, his convictions, and his righteousness, and has successfully oppressed others—and when there seems to be nothing for which he himself might be judged—then God Himself intervenes. And collapse follows. It is that famous “third day” when the One whom no one can stop begins to act.
The Life relates that Polychronius himself, during that same persecution, soon renounced the faith. He received no mercy from the pagans and was executed.
The unexpected resonance between the commemoration of Theodotus, celebrated on the longest day of the year, and the name Polychronios, meaning “many years of life,” seems simply astonishing. Theodotus translates as “Gift of God.” Time and life—both our own life and the life of our neighbor—are gifts from God. This is what the Life of Saint Theodotus and his martyrdom remind us of.