Macrina the Younger (327-379 AD) came from one of the most amazing families in all of Church history. Her paternal grandmother was Macrina the Elder, her mother was Emmelia, and her brothers were Peter, Basil and Gregory of Nyssa. It is from Gregory’s work The Life of St. Macrina that we learn of her skill as a soul physician.
Spiritual Friend to Her Physical Family: Drawing Her Family to Christ
Although Macrina had no desire for marriage, she acceded to her father’s wishes, who arranged for her to marry a noted lawyer. But before the wedding ceremony, her fiancé died unexpectedly. Soon thereafter, her father also died, leaving her mother Emmelia with ten children. Macrina, as the eldest, took over the care of the youngest, the infant Peter. Even more, she became her mother’s soul care-giver and spiritual director. “In all these matters she shared her mother’s toil, dividing the cares with her, and lightening her heavy load of sorrow. . . . By her own life she instructed her mother greatly, leading her to the same mark, that of philosophy [Christian theology] I mean, and gradually drawing her on to the immaterial and more perfect life.”[i]
Macrina’s brother, Basil, returned to the family home after a long period of education, already a practiced rhetorician. “He was puffed up beyond measure with the pride of oratory and looked down on the local dignitaries, excelling in his own estimation all the men of leading and position.”[ii] Macrina would have none of that. “Nevertheless Macrina took him in hand, and with such speed did she draw him also toward the mark of philosophy [Christian theology] that he forsook the glories of this world and despised fame gained by speaking.”[iii] With deft guiding, Macrina changed the course of Basil’s entire life, swaying him from the torrents of self to the current of Christ.
Sustaining and healing care were also a major focus of Macrina’s ministry to her family. The second of her four brothers, Naucratius, died unexpectedly in an accident. Grieving herself because her “natural affection was making her suffer as well. For it was a brother, and a favorite brother, who had been snatched away.” Yet now Macrina displayed her selflessness. Facing the disaster, “she both preserved herself from collapse and becoming the prop of her mother’s weakness, raised her up from the abyss of grief, and by her own steadfastness . . . taught her mother’s soul to be brave. . . . She so sustained her mother by her arguments that she, too, rose superior to her sorrow.”[iv]
Here we view Macrina practicing classic historical Christian sustaining. She allowed grief, and even embraced it. However, her sustaining drew a line in the sand of retreat. Through it, she forestalls despair by the infusion of hope and by the sharing of sorrow.
An Invincible Athlete: Coaching Others in the Spiritual Olympics
Approximately a decade later, Macrina’s brother Basil also “departed from men to live with God.” When Macrina heard the news of the calamity in her distant retreat, “she was distressed indeed in soul at so great a loss—for how could she not be distressed at a calamity, which was felt even by the enemies of the truth?” Though grieving greatly, she never surrendered hope. “So she remained, like an invincible athlete in no wise broken by the assaults of troubles.”[v]
Her brother Gregory, pained by his own sorrows, traveled to Annesi where Macrina led a spiritual community of women. Upon his arrival, he discovered that Macrina herself is on her deathbed. Yet once again, her focus is on the pain of others. “I journeyed to her yearning for an interchange of sympathy over the loss of her brother. My soul was right sorrow-stricken by this grievous blow, and I sought for one who could feel it equally, to mingle my tears with. . . . Well, she gave in to me for a little while, like a skillful driver, in the ungovernable violence of my grief.”[vi]
After engaging in sustaining through this skillful interchange of sympathy, Macrina slowly shifted their focus to healing hope. “And in every way she tried to be cheerful, both taking the lead herself in friendly talk, and giving us an opportunity by asking questions. When in the course of conversation mention was made of the great Basil, my soul was saddened and my face fell dejectedly. But so far was she from sharing in my affliction that, treating the mention of the saint as an occasion for yet loftier philosophy, she discussed various subjects, inquiring into human affairs and revealing in her conversation the divine purpose concealed in disasters. Besides this, she discussed the future life, as if inspired by the Holy spirit, so that it almost seemed as if my soul were lifted by the help of her words away from mortal nature and placed within the heavenly sanctuary.”[vii]
Macrina is dying, yet she is consoling her brother. How? She seamlessly moved from sustaining empathy to healing encouragement. She drew him out by giving him a chance to talk, and then used his human emotions as a starting point for erecting a biblical way of thinking about loss. In classic healing fashion, she unfolded God’s eternal plan in the midst of sad human events, focusing on heavenly hope. The result? Gregory’s spirit soared because he now could view this life through the lens of the life to come.
Returning the next day, Gregory opened up about his troubles. “First there was my exile at the hands of the Emperor Valens on account of the faith, and then the confusion in the Church that summoned me to conflicts and trials.” Perhaps expecting sympathy, he instead received reconciling confrontation. “Will you not cease to be insensible to the divine blessings? Will you not remedy the ingratitude of your soul? . . . Churches summon you as an ally and director, and do you not see the grace of God in it all? Do you fail to recognize the cause of such great blessings, that it is your parents, prayers that are lifting you up on high, you that have little or no equipment within yourself for such success?” Rather than being floored by her chastisement, he “longed for the length of the day to be further extended, that she might never cease delighting our ears with sweetness.”[viii] Her capacity to exude love while speaking truth enabled Gregory to hear her words as the faithful wounds of a friend.
The next day would be her last . . . on earth. She had her couch turned toward the East, facing the sun and symbolically facing the Son. She then prayed her own benediction. “Thou, O Lord, hast freed us from the fear of death. Thou hast made the end of this life the beginning to us of true life. . . . Thou hast shown us the way of resurrection, having broken the gates of hell, and brought to naught him who had the power of death—the devil. . . . But when she had finished the thanksgiving, and her hand brought to her face to make the sign had signified the end of the prayer, she drew a great deep breath and closed her life and her prayer together.”[ix] As with Gorgonia, even in death, Macrina speaks words of life to those yet living.
[i]Gregory of Nyssa, The Life of Saint Macrina, paragraph 966b.
[ii]Ibid., paragraph 966c.
[iii]Ibid.
[iv]Ibid., paragraph 970b.
[v]Ibid., paragraph 974c.
[vi]Oden, In Her Own Words, 48.
[vii]Gregory of Nyssa, paragraphs 978a-c.
[viii]Ibid., paragraphs 982a-c
[ix]Ibid., paragraphs 984c-986b.
