Mary of Egypt

Abbess Melangell

A young maiden with a hare, an old woman with a lion, a hermit with a bear, a dying woman with dove, what do all these people and animals have in common? They are signpost towards the Kingdom of God – one marked with gentleness and reconciliation. With the incarnation and resurrection of Christ, the reconciliation in and among His Creation has certain signs for us to see as a return to this original relationship. The hallmark of living out the Gospel in the world is the peace a soul reaches with Creation through asceticism and gratitude. The hagiographic theme of saints’ interactions with animals is consistent sign of holiness.

High up in the Berwyn hills of northern Wales, in the late 6th century, a young Irish woman found solitude in prayer with her God. She lived in the wilderness before being discovered in a rather dramatic and fabled way. Melangell, by the tradition, was the daughter of the King of Strathclyde, who had renounced the world and sought to convert the Welsh. Thus she lived for several years in asceticism.

Prince Brychwel Ysgithrog, from what is now Shrewsbury, was a good Christian man, giving alms to the poor in his realm. He took his dogs out hunting one day near Pennant, a remote valley. The dogs startled a hare and went off in pursuit, with the Prince following on horseback. They chased it into a thick bramble, however, the dogs came running back out in fear. The Prince dismounted and went into the hedge to see what had frightened them. There he saw a young woman, standing at prayer, with the hare hiding at the hem of her dress.

Astonished, he asked who she was and where she had come from. Learning of her birth and her mission, at first, he felt compassion for her. Some stories say he proposed marriage first, to which she declined. His second offer, however, was more to her liking. He gave the land surrounding her as dedicated to God so that a church may be built. Other virgins gathered to Melangell to dedicate themselves to prayer and hospitality to the poor. Local traditions say that hares were always found in great number surrounding the settlement and called them ‘Melangell’s lambs’. In perpetuity, after Prince Brychwel’s death, this deed was honored and a church has continuously operated as a shrine to St. Melangell to this day. Her relics and those of the nuns who came to Pennant, were also discovered recently and several miracles are attributed to her.

What might seem like a fairy tale suitable for animation in the life of St. Melangell is really a kind of deep truth being played out in the lives of saints. A wild hare which seeks sanctuary with a human is a sign of that person’s sanctity. Indeed, the very idea of ‘wild’ animals is a byproduct of sin; we broke the relationship of caretaker for all of Creation and put fear between us. This fear is a two-way street, either the animals flee us because we may cause them harm or they could attack or poison us. As St. John Chrysostom writes:

It is clear that man in the beginning had complete authority over the animals…. But that now we are afraid and terrified of beasts and do not have authority over them, this I do not deny…. In the beginning it was not so, but the beasts feared and trembled and submitted to their master. But when through disobedience he lost boldness, then also his authority was diminished. That all animals were subject to man, hear what the Scripture says: He brought the beasts and all irrational creatures to Adam to see what he would call them. (Gn. 2:19) And he, seeing the beasts near him, did not run away, but like another lord he gives names to the slaves which are subject to him, since he gave names to all animals… This is already sufficient as proof that beasts in the beginning were not frightful for man. But there is another proof not less powerful and even clearer. Which? The conversation of the serpent with the woman. If the beasts had been frightful to man, then seeing the serpent the woman would not have stopped, would not have taken his advice, would not have conversed with him with such fearlessness, but immediately on seeing him would have been terrified and run away. But behold, she converses and is not afraid; there was not yet then any fear. (Homilies on Genesis, IX, 4)

Animals, by their type and their actions, are both real actors and symbols within hagiography. What do I mean by ‘real actors’? There were physical creatures who had relationships with saints and were witnessed in behaving in ways not regularly observed for wild animals. St. Zosimas had a lion come help him dig a grave for Mary of Egypt, marking both his sanctity (though he was afraid in the moment) and that of the reposed. Symbolically, animals can be signs or portents of the spiritual realm. For example, when St. Scholastica died, her brother, St. Benedict, saw a dove ascend from her monastic cell and he knew she had reposed. In one of the tales surrounding the life of St. Brigid is one where a poor family came to the saint with their cow who had gone dry inexplicably. She touched the cow and it returned to giving milk, ten times the amount before. This illustrates the providence of God to the poor and the compassion of the saint.

How does this healing between humans and Creation occur? Through asceticism and gratitude. Elizabeth Theokritoff notes, in her book, Living in God’s Creation: Orthodox Perspectives on Ecology, “Asceticism provides the link between our relationship to the material world and our spiritual life. It reveals to us that the way we use material things is absolutely crucial to our spiritual progress.” Fasting, giving alms, denying the passions all have the goal of transfiguring our lives into that which reflects brightly reflects Christ to the world. We rightly place ourselves in the order of Creation through gratitude. Theokritoff continues, “At the basis of that attitude is the understanding of the created world as God’s gift. Not a ‘gift’ in the sense that it is handed over to us to do what we like with; rather, in the sense that it is never ours by right. It entails a constant connection with a Giver, a cause of endless gratitude to one who graciously gives us the enjoyment of what is His own.”

The fruit of this ascetic labor is to return to the original authority structure in Paradise, where our Divine image is restored. Though we are still within the fallen world, glimpses of what this was and will be, are truly transformative. As St. Isaac the Syrian remarks, the mechanics of this renewed relationship is the recognition of the divine, “The moment they catch sight of the humble man their ferocity is tamed; they come up and cling to him as to their Master, wagging their tails and licking his hands and geet. They smell, as coming from that person, the same fragrance that came from Adam before the transgression, the time when they were gathered together before him and he gave them names in paradise. This scent was taken away from us. But Christ has renewed it and given it back to us at his coming.” (Homily 77) As with all relationships, animals also retain a choice as to whether they will engage with us. They may cooperate or choose to cohabit with us or keep to their regular life in the wild. The humble man removes the barriers for this choice.

St. Nektary of Optina said, “St. Gerasimus was a great saint and he cared for a lion. We are little so we have cats.” We all have little ways to pursue gentleness with God’s creation. How have you seen wild animals react to patient love and humility? How can we better cultivate relationships with the small living creatures and the great?

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Read more about St. Melangell in this excellent article from Road to Emmaus.

More quotes from the Church Fathers regarding our relationship with Creation.

St. Mary of Egypt

When you think you have arrived, you have only just begun. This is the greatest life lesson for St. Zosimas and he learned it from a naked woman in the desert.

Mary was a beautiful girl, living in Alexandria. She left home at age twelve and lived a life of open sexual gratification. Rather than take pay from her partners, Mary supported herself through spinning flax or begging. Her pride in physical seduction, the thrill of the pursuit of men, kept her in this life for several years. One day, she heard a group of men were to set sail for the Holy Land in order to venerate the True Cross in Jerusalem. Thinking this would be an adventure, Mary joined them on the boat, trading her services with the men for passage.

Upon arriving in Jerusalem and following the crowds to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Mary was held back at the doorway by an unseen force. She tried three times to enter, but it was impossible. Mary looked up at an icon of the Theotokos, which brought her to tears and repentant prayer. She promised the Theotokos that she would renounce her passionate life and follow Christ. She fled to the desert and wrestled with ‘mad desires and the passions’ for 17 years. After that period of time, she dwelt in prayer and solitude for another 30 years, when she met Zosimas.

Saint Zosimas lived a contemporary life to Mary, in Palestine. His parents took him to a monastery at a young age, some accounts say just after he was weaned. All he knew was a monastic way of life, which he embraced and stayed, excelling at the study of Scriptures and at asceticism.

Zosimas was tormented with the thought that he had reached perfection in everything and could not learn anymore in the spiritual path to God. The voice said, “Is there a monk on earth who can be of use to me and show me a kind of asceticism that I have not accomplished? Is there a man to be found in the desert who has surpassed me?”

In a way, he was right. He knew the lives of his fellow brothers and of the lives of the desert fathers in the Sinai and beyond. Many of them made pilgrimage to visit Zosimas for his wisdom and teaching. All the indicators from his vantage point showed him there was nothing else to gain where he was, and what could be gained, like physical portliness, is pride.

Then an angel appeared with this message:
“Zosimas, valiantly you have struggled, as far as this is within the power of man, valiantly have you gone through the ascetic course. But there is no man who has attained perfection. Before you lie unknown struggles greater than those you have already accomplished. That you may know how many other ways lead to salvation, leave your native land like the renowned patriarch Abraham and go to the monastery by the River Jordan.”

In obedience to the vision, Zosimas left his home at age 53 and lived the rest of this life near the River Jordan. Here, the monks observed the Lenten fast by going out into the desert in solitude. While wandering in the desert, Elder Zosimas crossed paths with Mary, who told him her life story. The tales of both saints were recorded by Saint Sophronios, Patriarch of Jerusalem in the mid-600s.

Another father among the saints had a similar revelation to Zosimas –

“It was revealed to Father Anthony in the desert that there was one who was his equal in the city. He was a doctor by profession and whatever he had beyond his needs he gave to the poor, and every day he sang the Trisagion with the angels.”

~From the 38 Sayings of Saint Anthony

Both Zosimas and Abba Anthony had an experience of the parable of the rich young ruler.

Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.” [Mark 10:21]

To outward appearances, yes, the monastics had left the world in obedience to Christ’s commandment, forsaking wealth and status. What they could not forsake, except through labor and repentance, was pride. Zosimas was led to a stricter monastery; Abba Anthony saw a man living in a town who excelled him in prayer and charity. Comfort and stagnation is a different experience for everyone, as is the remedy of asceticism.

Both Zosimas and Mary suffered from what might be called, ‘a big fish in a small pond’ syndrome. Mary, in her sinful state, could acquire any pleasure she wanted. Zosimas, in his monastic home of 50 years, knew all there was about that Christian way of life, in that context. Gretchen Rubin, author of Better than Before: Mastering the Habits of our Everyday Lives, describes a tactic for when to begin a new habit called the clean slate. The clean slate is a moment in our lives where a big change occurs: marriage, changing jobs, graduating from school, etc. At these moments, when major behavior patterns shift to accommodate new people or new places, it is easier to change our personal behaviors, good or bad. A repeated pattern in many saintly lives is this clean slate type of move. Staying stagnant in sin is easy; repentance requires a new direction and, most importantly, movement.

Physical pride, of the kind Mary of Egypt owned, can be dealt with through physical asceticism and attempted profitably, sometimes, alone, which is why we have hermits or hermitesses. Mary knew she had no bargaining chips in her hands in regards to her soul: no godly heritage, no inclination throughout her youth towards God, no elder to shepherd her. For Mary, her remedy to overwhelming physical pride was renouncing all pleasures and contact therewith. Spiritual pride needs the mirror of living with others, even just seeing one other humble person in daily life is enough to bring us to repentance. There will always be someone in the Kingdom of God who is more ‘least’ than you.

Mary is a surprisingly contemporary saint for our decadent times. She made choices to suit her libertine tastes in ways that do not fit the paradigm we commonly assign to women of ancient history. As a professional, single woman living in a wealthy North American city, I could choose almost any way of life I wanted: eat whatever and whenever, associate with whomever I liked, wear whatever styles I choose, consume any media, and communicate with anyone in the world. Alexandria in late antiquity was a similar venue. Mary, being held back from entering the church, was the first time she encountered a ‘no’ to her wishes. We cannot have both worlds. Embracing the cross means we have to put down the other passion-fueled agendas in our arms, both the glory of physical pride and the illusion of spiritual success.

The story of Saints Zosimas and Saint Mary

Annamarie Neill

Author and Librarian

Saint Melangell and the Animals

Saint Mary of Egypt and the Problem of Spiritual Pride