By Fr. George Dorbarakis
Saint Matrona was a servant of a certain Jewish woman, who was called Pantilla. She would follow her mistress as far as the synagogue, but she did not enter inside; rather, she would turn back and go to the church of the Christians. Once she was seen doing this, and so they seized her and beat her very severely, and afterwards they shut her up in prison for four days, without anyone being able to approach her and without food. Then they brought her out and lacerated her with whips. Again they imprisoned her and left her there for many days, where she also gave up her soul to God. It is said that her holy relic was thrown down from the wall by Pantilla, and for this she suffered a just punishment, falling by accident into the winepress, into which the pressed must was being poured from above. There she ended her life and her soul departed.
The contrast is striking: on the one hand, Saint Matrona, the servant, the obscure one, the despised; and on the other, Pantilla, the mistress, the glorious, the rich. By worldly standards, there is no basis for comparison. The scale tilts automatically toward the side of Pantilla. Would not the modern secularized man say this, even if he is a “Christian”? When, for example, what appears as a priority for most people — the pursuit of pleasures, money, and glory — s what Pantilla represents, who would not choose her position, while pitying the “wretchedness” of Matrona? And yet how much delusion there is in such a value judgment! For it is the judgment of the surface. In depth, there where the heart is and where the Lord, the righteous Judge, sees — there where things operate on the level of eternity — things are entirely different: Matrona is the glorious one and the mistress, the bright star, and Pantilla is the obscure one, the non-existent, the servant and the miserable one. The Hymnographer of our Church, Saint Theophanes the Hymnographer, repeatedly emphasizes this reality, because he operates precisely with the criteria of the regenerated person, the Christian, who sees things from the perspective of the revelation in Christ, that is, of the truth.
“Having truly a divine mind, wise and divinely-minded, you shine in the choir of martyrs, O all-blessed Matrona” (Ode 5).
“Raging and as if drunkenly maddened, and writhing with anger, was the most impious one” (Ode 4).
“Strengthened by divine might, O Matrona, you have now escaped the servitude of your bitter mistress, her proud disposition; for you possessed a soul serving only the Master” (Ode 4).
The cause of this deeper reality, the truth itself, is the fact that before God what counts and has significance is certainly not wealth and glory, the earthly condition of man — whether of freedom or of slavery — that is, whatever is corruptible and has an expiration date, but that which remains unto eternity. And this is the virtue of man, the life in accordance with the will of God. “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth," as the Lord says, "where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” The Holy Hymnographer cries out in this regard in Ode 6:
"Neither slave nor free is one judged in Christ, but by the beauty of virtue, adorned with the ways of piety.”
And this means that Saint Matrona — and indeed every consistent Christian — moves on the level of true freedom, beyond the constraints that this world imposes upon the soul of man. For free is the one who looks beyond earthly things and is ready to give even his life for the sake of the Lord, who came to earth as a servant precisely in order to grant freedom to man.
"He who was pleased to accept the form of a servant, Christ God, wishing to free her from the bonds of corruption and death, betrothed you as a martyr-bride and freed you from the yoke of slavery” (Ode 1).
What was it that caused Saint Matrona to set as the priority of her life the will of God — that is, to see the reality of eternity even within this life — and on this will of God to die? What else, if not her love for the Lord? Her love for Christ was the element that activated the grace of God and led her to the heights of paradise.
“With favor and boldness you truly approached your beloved, O most praised one” (Ode 7).
For this reason, “Beautiful is the crown with which you are now crowned, O glorious one, from the life-giving right hand of the Almighty” (Ode 8).
Perhaps we Christians must at some point learn that the secret of the spiritual life — that which constitutes the driving force of all things and leads to states beyond nature — is love for Christ. Neither the threats of hell nor the delights of Paradise, but the love of God is that which is preeminently blessed by the Lord. And what other love could be considered more worthy than this love? For it is the only one that never abandons us and never disappoints us. But how much do we desire it?
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
