NPNF2-08. Basil: Letters and Select Works - Holy Bible Institute

Homiletical.the weaker. The fire burned through the hand, but the hand was firm. The martyr mightsay, “Thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, andafterward receive me to glory.” 688 The homily concludes with an apostrophe to the paintersof such scenes. “Up, I charge you, ye famous painters of the martyrs’ struggles! Adorn byyour art the mutilated figure of this officer of our army! I have made but a sorry picture ofthe crowned hero. Use all your skill and all your colours in his honour.”This was taken at the second Council of Nicæa as proof of an actual painting. 689Homily XVIII. is on the martyr Gordius, who was a native of Cæsarea, and was degradedfrom his rank of centurion when Licinius removed Christians from the army. Gordius retiredinto the wilderness, and led the life of an anchorite. One day there was a great festival atCæsarea in honour of Mars. There were to be races in the theatre, and thither the wholepopulation trooped. Not a Jew, not a heathen, was wanting. No small company of Christianshad joined the crowd, men of careless life, sitting in the assembly of folly, and not shunningthe counsel of the evil-doers, to see the speed of the horses and the skill of the charioteers.Masters had given their slaves a holiday. Even boys ran from their schools to the show.There was a multitude of common women of the lower ranks. The stadium was packed,and every one was gazing intently on the races. Then that noble man, great of heart andgreat of courage, came down from the uplands into the theatre. He took no thought of themob. He did not heed how many hostile hands he met.…In a moment the whole theatreturned to stare at the extraordinary sight. The man looked wild and savage. From his longsojourn in the mountains his head was squalid, his beard long, his dress filthy. His bodywas like a skeleton. He carried a stick and a wallet. Yet there was a certain grace about him,shining from the unseen all around him. He was recognised. A great shout arose. Thosewho shared his faith clapped for joy, but the enemies of the truth urged the magistrate toput in force the penalty he had incurred, and condemned him beforehand to die. Then anuniversal shouting arose all round. Nobody looked at the horses—nobody at the charioteers.The exhibition of the chariots was mere idle noise. Not an eye but was wholly occupiedwith looking at Gordius, not an ear wanted to hear anything but his words. Then a confusedmurmur, running like a wind through all the theatre, sounded above the din of the course.Heralds were told to proclaim silence. The pipes were hushed, and all the band stopped ina moment. Gordius was being listened to; Gordius was the centre of all eyes, and in a momenthe was dragged before the magistrate who presided over the games. With a mild and gentlevoice the magistrate asked him his name, and whence he came. He told his country, hisfamily, the rank he had held, the reason for his flight, and his return. “Here I am,” he cried;“ready to testify by creed to the contempt in which I hold your orders, and my faith in thelxx688 Ps. lxxiii. 23, 24.689 Labbe vii. 272. cf. Chrys. Hom. lxxiii.122