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.

Learning of this, all the enemies rejoiced, but their joy was overshadowed by terrible calamities. In the patriarchal church itself, for some unknown reason, a fire broke out: fanned by the wind, the fiery element rose high to the sky and, like a rainbow, bent its all-devouring gigantic tongue, set fire to the chamber of the Senate. The fire turned into a sea of fire and destroyed many of the best buildings in the capital. Everyone was seized with horror and involuntarily saw in this calamity the terrible wrath of God in retribution for the sufferings of the righteous man. But the bitter enemies of the saint were found here and began to spread the rumor that the fire had arisen from the malicious arson of John's like-minded people. Many of those close to him were therefore arrested by the mayor, who, as a pagan, cruelly tortured the alleged culprits, so that many even died under torture, although the cause of the fire remained unclear. The elderly brother of Nektarios, Arsaces, was elevated to the archbishop's throne, and those who remained faithful to the true archpastor were branded with the nickname of "Ioannites" and were subjected to all kinds of persecutions, confiscation of estates and exiles, until such cruelties overwhelmed everyone with fear, forcing them to obedience and silence. 

Св. Иоанн Златоуст в заточении и его блаженная кончина (404-407 гг.)

Таким образом неправда восторжествовала, нечестивые гонители праздновали победу, а величайший праведник, истинно великий светильник для грешнаго мира был оскорблен и изгнан. Но торжество это было лишь внешнее и призрачное. Действительной победительницей всегда бывает правда, и хотя бы она была гонима и попираема, хотя бы была увенчана терновым венцом и вознесена на позорный крест, ея победнаго лика не могут омрачить никакия мучения и казни и она восторжествует над своими мнимыми победителями. "Блаженны изгнанные за правду; ибо их есть царство небесное". А кому принадлежит царство небесное, тому принадлежит и победа, потому что оно только и есть цель всех стремлений и высших домогательств человеческой души. Кто не достоин царства небеснаго, тот есть несчастнейший из несчастных, погубил свою земную жизнь, и хотя бы видимо торжествовал победу, в действительности есть побежденный, повергнутый в прах и уничтоженный. Все это и оправдалось на последующей судьбе как самого великаго угодника Божия Иоанна, так и на его жестоких гонителях.

Изгнав великаго святителя из столицы и таким образом достигнув желанной цели своих злобных домогательств, императрица Евдоксия однако еще не успокоилась и старалась о том, чтобы поскорее уничтожить самые следы существования Иоанна. Даже и в заточении, в качестве безпомощнаго узника, Иоанн все еще страшен был для нея и в ея преступной совести все еще гремели обличительныя слова: "опять беснуется Иродиада, опять мятется, опять пляшет и рукоплещет, опять главы Иоанновой ищет". Одно воспоминание об этих словах приводило ее в злобное неистовство, и она действительно продолжала искать главы Иоанновой. Она не преминула дать воинам, отправлявшим его в заточение, строгий наказ, чтобы они обращались со своим узником возможно жесточе и всячески оскорбляли его, и это с тою целию, "дабы умер скорее". Такова сатанинская жестокость этой своенравной женщины! Варварские воины конечно были рады стараться и причиняли великому праведнику всевозможныя оскорбления, стараясь всячески отравлять ему жизнь. Посадив его на голую спину лошака, они с жестокою поспешностью гнали животное, делая в один день такие переходы, какие следовало бы сделать только в два или три дня. Не давая ему ни малейшаго отдыха днем, они и на ночь останавливались в грязных гостинницах, иногда в еврейских корчмах, а иногда и прямо в блудных домах, совершая при нем всевозможныя гнусности. В церковь нигде не позволяли ему входить, и когда он заявлял желание об этом, то его подвергали всяким ругательствам и оскорблениям и томили голодом, отнимая положенный ему паек. Таков-то был крестный путь великого угодника Божия, направлявшагося к месту своего заточения. Но оскорбления ему причиняли не одни только грубые варвары-воины. Когда случалось им проходить чрез города, где жили друзья Феофила александрийскаго и следовательно ожесточенные враги Иоанна, то и эти недостойные пастыри всячески старались излить свою злобу на страдальце; некоторые совсем не впускали его в город, а другие даже поощряли воинов поступать с ним возможно жесточе. Один из его смертельных врагов, епископ Кесарии Каппадокийской, некий Фаретрий, позоривший славную кафедру Василия Великаго тем, что его главным занятием была псовая охота на зайцев, едва не погубил его жизни. С притворным гостеприимством отведя для него особый дом, Фаретрий подговорил монахов произвесть на этот дом нападение, и святитель, спасаясь от ярости этих негодных людей, должен был ночью бежать из города, пробираясь по ухабистым горным тропам. Мул под ним при этом споткнулся и страдалец, упав с него, получил такой сильный ушиб, что долго пролежал в опасном для жизни обмороке. Положение страдальца было бы ужасным, если бы он не носил в своей собственной душе источника той неизреченной радости, которой никто не может отнять в этом мире и которая нередко прорывалась наружу, когда святитель, в безграничном уповании на всевидящий и благоустрояюший Промысл Божий, неоднократно говорил: "слава Богу за все". Не малым утешением для него было и то, что по местам его встречали с глубочайшим сочувствием как епископы, так и народ, и проливали о нем горячия слезы. Особенно трогательно было зрелище в Таврокиликии, где на встречу ему вышло множество девственниц, которыя или слышали когда-то его златословесныя беседы или, по крайней мере, читали его великия творения о девстве, сделавшияся вечным источником назидания и ободрения для всех подвижниц этого рода. Увидев великаго святителя, ведомого в заточение, оне огласили воздух громким плачем и, проливая горькия слезы, вопили: "лучше бы было, дабы солнце угасло, нежели уста Иоанновы умолкли". Это зрелище до глубины души тронуло страдальца и он плакал и сам, находя себе в то же время великое утешение в столь искреннем и глубоком сочувствии даже со стороны тех, которых он никогда раньше не видел и не имел о них никакого попечения.

Местом ссылки для св. Иоанна назначена была отдаленная и бедная деревня Кукуз в Малой Армении, терявшаяся в одной из глухих долин дикого Тавра, где гнездилось разбойничье племя исаврийцев, которые то и дело совершали набеги на окружающия селения, производя грабежи и убийства. В этой живой могиле и должен был проживать бывший патриарх столичнаго города. Враги его могли бы наконец успокоиться, если бы гнев Божий и возмущенная совесть не явились грозной карой для них за совершенную ими неправду. Слух о совершившемся в Константинополе насилии возмутил всех даже на далеком западе. Папа Иннокентий I, узнав о подробностях дела, сообщил обо всем императору Гонорию и просил его ходатайствовать пред своим братом, которому с своей стороны написал сильное и трогательное письмо. "Кровь брата моего Иоанна, писал он, вопиет к Богу на тебя, царь, как в древности кровь Авеля праведнаго вопияла на братоубийцу Каина, и она будет отомщена, потому что ты во время мира воздвиг гонение на церковь Божию, изгнал ея истиннаго пастыря, изгнав вместе с тем и Христа, а стадо вручил не пастырям, а наемникам". Гонорий с своей стороны также писал брату, укоряя его в неразумной жестокости, и отправил посольство для разследования дела. Но Аркадий, считая уже дело непоправимым и главнее всего опасаясь злого нрава Евдоксии, перешел, как это обыкновенно бывает с слабыми натурами, от малодушия к дерзости, и отнесся к посольству своего брата с оскорбительным пренебрежением, хотя в душе и терзался сознанием допущенной им неправоты. Между тем праведный гнев Божий начал производить должное воздаяние всем совершителям зла. В сентябре 404 года над Константинополем разразилась страшная буря с градом чудовищной величины, который в один миг истребил жатвы и сады. Вместе с тем раздавались глухие подземные удары и мать-земля стонала и колыхалась под ногами нечестивцев, как бы не вынося совершившагося позора. 6 октября того же года отозвана была к судилищу Бога живаго и сама императрица Евдоксия. Жаждая смерти великаго праведника, она сама скорее подверглась смерти и умерла в мучительных страданиях от родов. За нею с изумительною быстротою понесли заслуженную кару и другие из главных злоумышленников и врагов угодника Божия. Так епископ Кирин Халкидонский, один из главных деятелей печальнаго собора "При дубе", подвергся страшной болезни от разбереженной ему мозоли, на которую нечаянно наступил епископ Маруфа: у него сгнили ноги, и не смотря на то, что неоднократно совершалась ампутация, он умер от Антонова огня. Один из врагов святителя получил смертельный ушиб при падении с лошади, другой умер от гнойной водянки, третий от рака на языке, заставившаго его сознаться в тяготевшем на его душе мрачном преступлении. Феофил александрийский, временно избегнув суда человеческаго, также впоследствии не избег суда Божия. От крайняго напряжения в своих злобных ухищрениях он помешался и умер скоропостижно - от паралича. Если не телесно, то еще более душевно терзался и злополучный император Аркадий, который, освободившись наконец от невыносимой тираннии своей злонравной супруги, хотел найти себе облегчение от сердечной туги в молитвах пустынников. Но когда он обратился с просьбою помолиться за него к знаменитому синайскому отшельнику Нилу, то отшельник с истинною твердостью и дерзновением древних пророков отписал ему: "По какому праву желаешь ты, чтобы царствующий град избавлен был от опустошающих его землетрясений, когда в нем совершаются такия преступления, нечестие с неслыханною наглостью возводится в закон, и когда из него изгнан столп церкви, светило истины, труба Христова, блаженный епископ Иоанн? Как можешь ты желать, чтобы я согласился молиться об этом злосчастном городе, потрясенном всесокрушающим гневом небес, когда я изнываю от скорби, потрясен духом и когда мое сердце разрывается от злодеяний, совершенных на твоих глазах против всех законов"[30].