This extraordinary event in all its splendor showed the spiritual authority possessed by the great hierarch of Constantinople. The fame of his name and pastoral zeal spread far beyond the boundaries of his diocese, and many even from other dioceses began to turn to him for spiritual help. As a result of the constant turmoil, church life in many dioceses, especially in Asia Minor, was subjected to extreme disorder. At the head of the churches stood for the most part unworthy pastors, and the sees were occupied by persons who sought to bribe them - apparently for chains that were far from pastoral. When complaints about these flagrant abuses reached John, he, having arranged the affairs of his own church, decided to improve the neighboring churches as well. For this purpose, in the year 401, he himself set out for Asia Minor, and, having become convinced on the spot of the extreme disorder of church affairs, he took strict measures, and several bishops, convicted of obvious simony and unworthiness, were deposed. Over the course of three months the saint occupied himself with the improvement of the churches of Asia Minor, and only having already achieved the desired fruits, he returned to his capital, where the devoted people had long awaited him, thirsting for edification and instruction from their golden-tongued teacher. Meanwhile, during his absence, disappointing events took place in the capital itself. Taking advantage of the absence of the archbishop, the Arians raised their heads, their audacity being all the stronger because they were led by the famous Gothic general Gaina. Sensing how much the empire depended on his military prowess, he began to make extremely immoderate demands of the emperor, and among other things demanded that one of the churches in the capital itself be given to the Arians. The emperor, knowing the indomitable temper of the barbarian, feared to refuse him, but he was rescued from the difficulty by Saint John, who boldly opposed the arrogant Goth, convinced him of the injustice of his demand, and so influenced him with his arguments that he abandoned his intention for a time. Soon, however, his treacherous nature could not stand it, and he, rebelling against the imperial power, began to carry out robberies and devastation, threatening Constantinople itself. The king was discouraged and did not know what to do. None of his courtiers dared to go to Gaina for negotiations and exhortations. Then Chrysostom again set out, and, disregarding any personal danger, fearlessly set out for the camp of the rebel. Everyone feared for the life of the saint, but the spiritual force turned out to be more powerful than the military. Recognizing the famous Archbishop of Constantinople in the person of the royal envoy, Gaina humbled himself and even showed him unusual honors. Soon Gaina ended his rebellious life and the empire got rid of one of its most dangerous enemies.

But zealously speaking out everywhere for the truth and overcoming evil, Saint John thereby prepared for himself a multitude of sorrows, which, according to the immutable word of Christ the Savior, constitute an inevitable earthly reward for all His true disciples and followers. As was natural to be expected, his strict measures to eradicate ecclesiastical and moral-social disorders and evils must have aroused irritation and hostility against him on the part of those who were especially affected by these measures. And first of all, those bishops were dissatisfied, of course, who, as illegally occupying their sees, were deprived of them. With the utmost bitterness of which only people convicted of untruth and abuse are capable, they began to conduct hostile agitation against the Archbishop of Constantinople, accusing him of unlawful invasion of other dioceses and of various cruelties. They were joined by other bishops, who simply envied Chrysostom and his enormous influence on the people.

Severian, with the help of his friends, even managed to penetrate into the court and found favor with the empress, who liked the sweet-flattering speeches of this bishop more than the denunciations of Chrysostom. Upon his return to the capital, St. John immediately understood all the baseness and treachery of this bishop and wanted to remove him from the capital, but Eudoxia begged him not to do this, and thus one of the most dangerous enemies of the great hierarch remained at the very altar. Other bishops did not like John either, mainly because, contrary to established custom, he did not entertain them during their stay in the capital with sumptuous dinners, but wholly occupied with important matters of ecclesiastical and religious well-being, he greeted them simply and, as it seemed to them, dryly and haughtily. One of the bishops, namely Akakii of Verei, was so displeased with such a reception that he directly threatened the saint with vengeance. If the bishops were dissatisfied, then all the less could there be quite a clergy in the capital. Accustomed under the former archbishop to complete unconstrained life, it began to be decisively indignant when St. John, who himself had passed through all the degrees of sacred church service and had the highest understanding of the duties of pastors, began to remind him of the duty of service and to eradicate among him various disorders and abuses, in the form of the shameful custom of cohabitation with virgins. Discontent among the clergy turned into complete indignation, when the archdeacon, devoted to Chrysostom, straightforward, but not restrained in his expressions, Serapion, knowing the clergy of the capital and seeing their opposition to the saint, said to him at a church meeting: "Vladyka, you cannot correct them, if you do not drive them all away with one staff." This expression was quickly taken up by the discontented, who began to zealously spread throughout the city various blasphemies and backbiting against the saint, accusing him of cruelty and hatred of mankind. The clergy were especially displeased with the order of St. John Chrysostom that benefactors, especially rich widows in the family of Olympias, should not squander their estates too much, distributing them to clergymen inclined to abuse them. This order was directed against one of the most egregious evils, and it undoubtedly caused material damage to those who were accustomed to derive a considerable income from it. The discontented did not fail to interpret this order to mean that the archbishop, out of greed, wanted to direct all the donations exclusively to himself. Many monks were also dissatisfied, not those true ascetics, of course, who, having renounced the world, built up their salvation in the wilderness, weeping over their own sins and those of their neighbors, but those hypocrites who, under the guise of monasticism, wanted only to achieve their far from angelic goals more conveniently and lived idly in the cities and in the capital itself. Such false monks reviled the archbishop in every possible way, calling him heavy and proud, cruel and arrogant. Backbiting did not take long to degenerate into slander, and the discontented began to spread throughout the city all sorts of absurdities insulting the archbishop, asserting that if he dined constantly alone and never accepted invitations to dinner from others, as the former archbishops of Constantinople had done, it was all due to his unsociability and various vices. A hundred-mouthed rumor did not disdain to spread this slander either, although everyone knew that St. John withdrew from public feasts simply because of the weakness of his stomach, which had once been upset by severe asceticism in the wilderness. If the clergy treated the saint in this way, then all the more so, of course, must have been echoed by the noble, depraved classes of the capital's population, who were most of all subjected to denunciations by the saint, who did not cease to thunder against them from the church cathedra with the mercilessness of an incorruptible judge. They even accused him of stirring up the lower classes of the people against the upper, the poor against the rich, and in any case they did not like the archbishop at all, who, instead of feasting with the rich, preferred the company of the poor and sick, the toiling and the burdened. But most of all the ladies of the highest metropolitan society were dissatisfied with him, whose exquisite attire found in John an implacable accuser, and these were the most dangerous enemies. With a purely feminine ability, they exaggerated and inflated every word of St. John that was disagreeable to them, and when he denounced them, for example.

Such slanders and slanders could not but gradually cool the Empress herself towards Saint John, especially since she herself - with her extreme licentiousness, greed and vanity - could not but feel that indeed the Archbishop's speeches sometimes very closely denounced herself, since she was in reality the source and contagious example of that pernicious passion for insane luxury with all its sad consequences. from which the entire high society of Constantinople suffered.

And so, little by little, clouds of malice, hatred and slander accumulated around the great saint, which sooner or later were to break out over his sacred head. John knew about this, but in his kindness, fully trusting in God's Providence, he did not pay any attention to the intrigues of his enemies. Meanwhile, they did not slumber, and among them, unfortunately, there was such an influential hierarch as Theophilus of Alexandria. By his position he was one of the most influential and wealthy hierarchs in all Christendom, but he was extremely proud and ambitious, and cast envious glances at the throne of the capital. When, after the death of Nektarios, the throne of Constantinople became vacant, he was no stranger to the desire to occupy it himself; but since this was unseemly, he wanted at least to occupy him with one of his henchmen or subordinates, in order to dispose of the capital through him. Therefore, he rebelled against the election of St. John and did not even want to participate in his consecration. Only when he had already been forced to do so by the government did he agree to the consecration of John, but from that time he became his sworn enemy, and from Alexandria he watched with malicious attentiveness what was happening in Constantinople. Of course, he did not like the brilliant successes of St. John in the matter of governing the church and its well-being; but he was very pleased when he noticed that discontent against John began to rise more and more strongly in the capital, and his relations with the court were deteriorating. With his cunning and shrewd mind, he knew that this relationship was bound to lead to disaster sooner or later, and he looked forward to it, confident that it would not be without his intervention. In fact, things soon developed in such a way that Theophilus had an opportunity to pour out all his hidden malice on his innocent rival. The reason for this was the unfortunate fate of certain pious monks of the Nitrian wilderness, which from the time of the foundation of monasticism was constantly a favorite place of hermitage, and in it lived a multitude of monks, asceticizing in prayer and labor. Among these monks, especially famous for their piety and even erudition were four brothers, who because of their extraordinary stature were called "long brothers". At first, Theophilus himself treated them with respect and even forced two of them to accept the priesthood to serve in Alexandria itself. But when the brethren, with pure hermit frankness, told him that they could not serve in a city defiled by the vices of the archbishop himself, Theophilus flew into a rage, burst out against them with torrents of abuse and began to accuse them of adhering to the harmful teachings of Origen. These scholars, widespread at that time, really demanded great vigilance on the part of the archpastors, and many zealots of Orthodoxy vigorously fought against them, such as St. Epiphanius of Cyprus, who deliberately traveled to Palestine to suppress this heresy there. But Theophilus was not at all such a strict zealot, he himself had previously adhered to Origen, and if now he began to persecute Origenism, it was only because this persecution gave him one extra weapon in his hands for dealing with all his opponents and enemies, of whom he had acquired not a few by his lawless life. Not content with this reprisal against the "long brothers," he even convened a council of his protégés and assistant bishops, and at it the "long brothers" were condemned as heretics and sorcerers, who had infected the entire desert with their heresy. Not only to exterminate, so to speak, the bold nest of the heresy hated by him, he gave orders to destroy the Nitrian sketes, and during this defeat many monks were subjected to cruel beatings and mutilations, and the buildings were destroyed and burned. The long brothers barely escaped by fleeing to inaccessible places of the desert, where, together with other survivors from destruction, they could only see with tears the smoke smoking over the ruins of their native monasteries. Finding themselves after this in an extremely helpless position, the ruined monks did not know what to do. They could not remain under the rule of Theophilus any longer, and therefore they went in a party first to Jerusalem, and then reached the capital, thinking there to find protection for themselves with the great archbishop of Constantinople, who was famous for his mercy to all the oppressed and persecuted, and through him with the emperor himself. St. John Chrysostom did indeed receive them with his characteristic kindness and promised to intercede for them before Theophilus, but at the same time, observing the canonical canon, which forbade one bishop to intrude into the jurisdiction of another, he acted cautiously, especially since the depot concerned the accusation of Origen's heresy. Before taking the side of the persecuted monks, it was necessary to clarify this aspect of the matter. Therefore he wrote a fraternal letter to Theophilus, in which he asked him to somehow settle the matter with the distressed monks. The haughty Theophilus considered even this letter an insult to himself and replied to it "cruelly." Meanwhile, the "long brothers," seeing the indecisiveness of St. John, themselves appealed to the emperor with a complaint against the Patriarch of Alexandria, and in their complaint they set forth a whole series of terrible accusations against Theophilus, as a man of the highest degree cruel and criminal. Things were taking a very unpleasant turn for him. He was threatened with trial, and if St. John had agreed to become the head of this court, then Theophilus would not have escaped the punishment of justice. But he, fearing troubles and schism in the church, evaded this trial, although a formal demand had already been sent to Theophilus to appear for an answer. The Patriarch of Alexandria quickly understood the state of affairs and, having previously hated St. John with all his heart, now decided to pour out his malice on him and overthrow him, in order to put in his place one of his henchmen protégés, forever eliminating the very possibility of a repetition of such offensive demands for a judicial response. And he quickly made a plan of action. If John took under his protection the "long brothers," these accursed heretics, the followers of the condemned Origen, then he himself is an Origenist, and as a follower of a heretic he is not worthy to occupy the throne of the capital! And so this intriguer, "who knew how to cunningly compose lies," began to act in this direction with amazing dexterity. With the help of his agents, strengthening the ranks of John's enemies in the capital, he even managed to set up against him such a famous and universally respected saint as St. Epiphanius of Cyprus. Knowing all the Orthodox zeal of this saint, who tirelessly struggled with the errors of Origen, Theophilus insidiously impressed upon him that Orthodoxy was in terrible danger, since the pernicious heresy of Origen had penetrated into the very heart of the Church and sat on the throne of Constantinople – in the person of Archbishop John! The simple-hearted elder-saint was horrified and, in spite of his advanced age, considered it his duty to go to Constantinople in order to eradicate heresy.

Received with extraordinary honors at court by the Empress, Epiphanius settled in a private house and, without communicating with John, decided at once, during a solemn service in the cathedral church of the archbishop, to perform a great excommunication over all the adherents of Origen, including secretly over John himself. Seeing all this, St. John grieved in his soul and tried in every way to calm the elder, explaining to him how imprudent it was to perform such a great deed as excommunication, without subjecting him to a thorough conciliar examination of the very validity of the accusation. Epiphanius really hesitated, especially since from very many he began to hear completely different opinions about John, as a man of deep faith, great virtue and blameless life, and wondered what all this meant. Then the empress herself appeared on the scene and again turned Epiphanius against the unpleasant John. Already dissatisfied with the archbishop for his merciless denunciations of the secular emptiness, depravity, and avarice of the upper classes of the capital, she was at that time especially irritated with him on the occasion of a failed attempt to rob a defenseless widow.

This conversation made a great impression on the people, who did not fail to interpret it to mean that Jezebel meant none other than Queen Eudoxia, and when the informers did not fail to bring it to the attention of the Empress, her fury knew no bounds. She decided to destroy the hated John. Summoning Epiphanius to her, she began to persuade him by flattery and threats that he should take some measures to condemn John as a heretic and therefore unworthy to occupy the archbishop's throne. When Epiphanius began to object to her that one should not give vent to his anger and that it was necessary to investigate the matter beforehand, Eudoxia, beside herself with rage and irritation, even began to threaten that if he prevented the expulsion of John, then she herself would renounce Christianity, open all the pagan temples, seduce many and cause all kinds of disasters to the church. Epiphanius was amazed at such malice of the queen and, fearing that she would really cause trouble, he considered it best to evade this matter, and without further investigation of the subject he went to his diocese, on the way to which he died.

All these events were vigilantly watched by Theophilus of Alexandria, and his agents by bribery and slander intensified and fanned the enmity against John. With particular triumph he saw that the Empress herself stood at the head of this enmity, who did not neglect any means to achieve her goals.

Emperor Arcadius also knew about all this. Personally, he respected and loved the great hierarch and in his soul grieved over the anger that was rising up against him. But he was weak and irresolute, and, knowing the queen's wicked, indomitable temper, he preferred to remain silent, as if he knew nothing. All this played into the hands of Theophilus, and he, finally convinced that the ground was prepared, decided to go to Constantinople, but no longer as a defendant, but as a judge, who in one way or another decided to destroy the hated archbishop. In this conviction he was finally confirmed when he received a letter from Eudoxia herself, in which she asked him to come immediately to Constantinople and not to fear anything. "I," she wrote, "will beseech the tsar for you and all your opponents, only come immediately, gather as many bishops as possible, in order to expel my enemy John." Now Theophilus could already be quite calm about the success of his cause, and he set off for the capital - with a whole flotilla loaded with various jewels: Indian aromas, magnificent fruits and vegetables, valuable Egyptian fabrics - silk and gold-woven - and all this in order to show off his wealth in the capital and to bribe as many influential persons as possible in his favor met by a large pack of his agents and various street rabble bribed by them. The emperor, learning of his arrival, did not want to receive him, looking upon him as a defendant; but Eudoxia scattered herself before him in signs of respect, and, receiving him secretly in her chambers, hastened to get down to business as soon as possible. At her insistence, Theophilus decided to convene a council for the trial of John, and since it was inconvenient and unsafe to administer this lawless court in the capital, Chalcedon was chosen as its place, located on the other side of the strait, on the Asian coast, especially since the bishop of Chalcedon was a certain Cyrene, an Egyptian, an accomplice and even a relative of Theophilus. Since Theophilus also had in readiness the supply of bishops necessary for the council, partly brought by him from Egypt, and partly captured on the way and seduced by gifts, and in any case obedient and devoted to him, the council was indeed opened, in a country building, on the outskirts of Chalcedon, known as the "Oak Tree."

The council was composed of 23 bishops, and this unlawful assembly, which opened its doors to all the slanderers and ill-wishers of John, began to judge the most holy archbishop, the golden-tongued teacher of the universe! Having listened to the testimony of various rascals, deacons who had been removed from office and monks who had been tonsured, pouring out their malice on the saint who had subjected them to the well-deserved punishment, the council drew up an indictment of 29 counts and demanded that John appear for an answer. John saw with bitterness that the malice of his enemies was beginning to be crowned with success, and he innocently wondered how all this could happen and how Theophilus, himself summoned as an accused, managed to change the situation so quickly and himself acted as an accuser and judge. Gathering around him the bishops devoted to him, forty in number, he addressed them with a touching speech. "Pray to God for me, brethren," he said, "and if you love Christ, do not depart from your churches; For me the time of troubles is already approaching, and having received many sorrows, I must depart from this life. I see that Satan, unable to endure my teaching, has already convened a council against me. But you do not grieve for me, but remember me in your prayers." This deeply shocking speech terrified them and they began to cry. Having consoled them, John worked out a plan of action and, full of awareness of his rightness, decided not to recognize the legality and legal capacity of the Pridubsk council and, in spite of his repeated summons to this council as an accused, refused to appear at it. Enraged by this refusal, the members of the pridubsk council even beat the bishops and presbyters sent to them with an answer, throwing one of them into iron fetters, already prepared for John, and then, reinforcing themselves with new false witnesses, they continued to judge in absentia the innocent and pure-hearted saint. And at the same time, sitting with his council, he looked with complete calm into the face of the storm of calamities approaching him, and, fully aware of his innocence, said: "Let the sea foam and rage, but it cannot break a stone; let the waves rise, but they cannot sink Jesus' ship. What should we be afraid of? Is it death? "But if I live, I am Christ, and if I die, I am gained. Should we be afraid of exile? "But the Lord's is the earth, and the fulfillment thereof!" Should we be afraid of the deprivation of our possessions? "But everyone knows that we have brought nothing with us into the world, just as nothing can take with us. I fear neither beggary, nor riches, nor do I fear death; I pray only for one thing, he concluded, that you may prosper in good." Such words could flow only from the heart of a righteous man, whose whole life was centered in Christ, and for him all the shackles of his enemies were fearless. Not being able to summon John to trial, the illegal assembly decided to condemn him in absentia, and indeed, on the basis of all the slander and accusations heard, formalized in 32 points, John was declared worthy of deposition and the decision was sent to the emperor for approval. The faint-hearted emperor, now seeing before him not only the terrible temper of the gloating queen, but also the whole conciliar decree, and fearing that he would be threatened with a mass of all sorts of troubles and troubles in the event of resistance, decided to sacrifice the saint better, and having confirmed the decree, he gave the order to remove John. Soldiers had already been sent with orders to take him and send him into exile. But as soon as the rumor of this spread throughout the city, the people became agitated and moved en masse to defend their beloved archpastor. There was a threat of bloodshed between the people and the army. Then the innocently condemned righteous man, wishing to avoid useless confusion and innocent victims of human passions, secretly left his house and gave himself into the hands of the soldiers, who immediately took him to the harbor, put him on a ship and sent him to Praenetus, near Nicomedia.

All this happened under cover of night, and when in the morning the people learned that his beloved saint, the fearless preacher of truth, the defender of the orphans, the poor, the toiling and the burdened, the golden-tongued John, had already been removed and exiled, then a terrible confusion began in the capital. Fights and riots began in the streets, during which many were maimed and even killed, and the city was threatened with various disasters. The people were agitated like an enraged sea, and everywhere - both in the churches and in the squares - there was only talk of the flagrant unrighteousness of the trial that had taken place against John. Even noisy voices arose among the crowd, demanding that the chief culprit of this sorrowful event, Theophilus of Alexandria, should be stoned, and this would undoubtedly have happened if he, having learned of the danger threatening him, had not secretly left the capital. Then, not being able to pour out their fury on Theophilus, the people moved in great masses to the palace and there, with cries and sobs, they besought that Saint John be returned to them. Hearing these threatening cries, Eudoxia was frightened; But she persisted, hoping that the empty cries of the people would pass and fall silent like the wind. Nevertheless, her heart trembled, and in the recess of her soul she had already begun to repent of all that had happened. As she hesitated in this way, a terrible earthquake suddenly occurred, and a particularly terrible blow shook the peace of the Empress herself. Then she was seized with horror and, assured, that this was the wrath of God, punishing her for the insult inflicted on the great saint, threw herself at the feet of the emperor and began to beseech him to revoke his order and return John. Having received the consent of the emperor, she immediately wrote a letter to John with her own hand, in which, urging him to return to the capital, she tried in every way to justify herself before him, assuring him that she had nothing against him personally and had been deceived by the treachery of unfit people. With this letter and the emperor's order, the messengers galloped in all directions, and at first they did not know where to look for the saint. At last the courtier Vryson succeeded in assailing the traces of his sojourn in Praenet, and he, finding him there, besought the saint to return to the city as soon as possible and to calm the utterly frightened queen. And the great saint, forgetting all the insults inflicted on him and with the all-forgiveness of a righteous man, returned to the city, where already innumerable masses of people, both on the shore of the strait and on numerous boats and vessels, covering the entire Bosphorus, prepared to meet their beloved archpastor. At first John did not want to enter the city itself, wishing that a council of bishops should be convened beforehand, which would cancel the condemnation of the council of Pridub that had taken place over him. But the people would not hear of these formalities, and, taking John almost by force, in a solemn procession with all kinds of expressions of joy and delight, they led him straight to the cathedral and placed him on the ambo from which he was accustomed to enjoy his golden-spoken discourses and teachings, and although St. John was extremely tired and depressed by the feelings that agitated him, however, he made a short but powerful speech, in which from the depths of his heart he thanked God, Who is good to all, and the people for their devotion to their pastor. The people rejoiced and many wept with joy, and the dark pack of their enemies, seeing this irrepressible outburst of popular joy, hastened to disperse and take cover.

Saint John, by the mercy of God, returned to his throne by the love of the people and acquitted from the condemnation that had taken place over him by a new council of 65 bishops, began as before the right to rule over the affairs of the Church of Christ, and from his lips flowed as before conversations and teachings, sweet to the ear and heart. Peace reigned again, but unfortunately not for long. It was only a temporary lull before a new storm and even more violent. Although John's enemies were humbled, they harbored in their hearts an even more mortal enmity and malice against him, and awaited the first opportunity to once again fall upon the hated saint, who not only by his accusatory conversations, but even more by his righteous life, served as an intolerable reproach for all unrighteousness, malice and depravity. And the first instigator of the storm was again the Empress Eudoxia, who, having recovered from her excitement and fear, again began to be hostile to the archbishop. With the unbridled temper of the queen, who did not tolerate the slightest obstacle in striving for insatiable vanity, the clash between her and the saint was not long in coming, and it took place two months after the return of Chrysostom to his throne on the following occasion. Feeling that she was the head of the state, and not the pusillanimous and insignificant Arcadius, Eudoxia laid claim to an unprecedented honor for empresses and the construction of a special column, crowned with her silver image, in the most important square of the capital, near the church of St. Sophia. This unbridled ambition of Eudoxia even aroused indignation in the west, and Honorius thought it his duty to warn his brother Arcadius against such a violation of ancient customs; but Eudoxia did not want to know anything, and the column with her silver statue on the top was erected at all kinds of celebrations and rejoicing. Due to the proximity of the column to the church, the noise of these indecent celebrations with pagan ceremonies and dances made the divine service itself impossible, and since they lasted several days, the saint could not but consider all this an obvious and even deliberate insult to the shrine. At first he wanted to put an end to this blasphemy through the prefect; but when the prefect did not give him any assistance in this regard, he uttered a harsh accusatory conversation, which, according to historians, he began with the famous words: "Herodias is raging again, again he is troubled, again he applauds and dances, again he seeks the head of John." John's informers and enemies did not fail to bring this to the attention of the queen with malicious glee, interpreting these words in the sense that in them she was compared to Herodias, and Eudoxia flew into a complete frenzy, weeping and complaining to the emperor about the insult inflicted on her, and demanding that a council be convened again to overthrow the unbearable day of her hierarch. Letters flew to Theophilus from her, in which she implored him to come again to Constantinople and complete the deposition of John.

The Council was indeed again composed of almost the same bishops who had met "At the Oak," and of course pronounced a new condemnation against John, accusing him precisely of violating the said canon. This condemnation was doubly unlawful, because in this case the canon, compiled by the heretics with the obviously malicious aim of destroying the great champion of Orthodoxy, was also inapplicable because in reality, upon his return from exile, John was acquitted of being condemned by the Council of Pridub by a large council consisting of 66 bishops; but the malice of the enemies did not recognize any arguments, and John was declared deposed, and this decree was confirmed by the emperor.

Thus a thundercloud again broke out over the head of the much-suffering John: he was again in disgrace and was deposed from his rank. Taught by bitter experience from the previous case, the emperor, however, now feared to take to violence the deposed saint and wanted to force him to depart voluntarily, trying at every opportunity to prove to him that he was no longer an archbishop and illegally occupied the throne. Thus, on the feast of the Nativity of Christ in the year 403, the emperor did not want to receive Holy Communion from him. In this uncertain situation the matter remained until Easter. Finally, the emperor, instigated by Eudoxia, who did not give him rest while the hated saint still remained on his throne, decided to remove John altogether by the radiant feast of Christ and sent him an order to leave the church. St. John, full of awareness of his righteousness and pastoral duty, replied that he would not leave the church, which had been entrusted to him by Christ the Saviour, so as not to be held accountable for his willful abandonment of it. Let them expel him by force, and then this guilt will not fall on him. The emperor wavered at such steadfastness of the saint; but seeing the inexorable tyranny of Eudoxia over him, he decided to put an end to this difficult matter in one way or another. The court dignitary Marinus was instructed to remove John by force from the church, where he was already preparing to perform holy baptism over 3,000 catechumens. The dignitary carried out the order with police precision, and the bright feast was overshadowed by ugly scenes of savage violence (April 16, 404). Forcibly bursting into the church, the semi-barbarian soldiers, under the command of the pagan Lucius, began to mercilessly smash everything, indulging in all sorts of riots and robbery. Those who tried to defend the saint were beaten, the clergy were expelled from the church, and even the half-naked catechumens, who had already prepared for baptism, were driven out into the street, the Eucharist was desecrated and the sacred vessels were robbed. The abomination of desolation settled in the holy place, and to the depths of his soul the grieved saint was imprisoned in the patriarchal house, where he remained for another two months under house arrest. His situation became more and more difficult every day, and he found his only consolation in prayer, and in the company of those close to him, among whom the pious deaconess Olympias was a true guardian angel for him. Seeking protection for himself from the malice of his enemies, John at this time addressed letters to the influential bishops of the West - to Pope Innocent I and Archbishops Venerius of Milan and Chromatius of Aquileia. These hierarchs deeply sympathized with the Constantinople saint, horrified by the power of the malice of his enemies, but were unable to help. The slowness of the matter, meanwhile, increasingly embittered his mortal enemies, and suspicious and shady personalities began to appear around the patriarch's house, who made direct attempts on the life of the saint. At the gates of the patriarchal house, a certain pseudo-demoniac was seized by the people loyal to John, who had a dagger hidden in his possession, which had been stored up for a criminal purpose. On another occasion he noticed a slave who was making his way to the patriarchal house in unusual excitement and haste. Suspecting him of malice, someone detained him and asked him why he was in such a hurry, and he stabbed him with a dagger without answering. At the sight of this, another cried out in terror, and he stabbed him with a dagger, and then a third, who turned up under his arm. Shouts and screams arose, and the slave fled, brandishing a bloody dagger and fighting off the people who were chasing him. At one point, a man who had just come out of a public bath wanted to take it over, but he was struck dead by a dagger. When at last this enraged beast was captured, he confessed that he had been bribed for fifty gold pieces to kill John. After this accident, the people began to relentlessly guard the house of their persecuted archpastor, and disturbances began among him, which threatened with terrible horrors and riots. Then, in order to prevent vain bloodshed, the humble saint decided, as for the first time, to voluntarily surrender himself into the hands of the secular authorities. Summoning all his retinue for the last time, he persuaded them to be firm in the Orthodox faith and gave them the last kiss. The farewell was deeply touching. Everyone wept bitter tears; The saint himself wept. And then, trusting in the Providence of God, without Whose will a hair will not fall from his head, the saint left the house through the small doors and imperceptibly headed for the sea, where the soldiers took him and, putting him in a boat, they transported him to Bithynia.