Having accepted the sacred order of deaconate, John again returned to the world, but no longer as its slave, but as an Agent in it. now, as a servant of the Church, he went out to fight against these delights and, filled with spiritual courage, began to fulfill his service with zeal. The duties of a deacon at that time were very difficult. In addition to fulfilling the bishop's assignments and serving in the church, the bishop had to take special care of the various needs of weak and poor Christians. He had to visit the sick and console the dying, help the poor and find funds for their maintenance. The position was difficult, requiring complete selflessness and love, but at the same time it was an excellent school for preparing for higher pastoral service. In the wilderness, John, anxious for the salvation of his own soul and not seeing all the infirmities and misfortunes that depress suffering humanity, could weaken in his love for mankind, since not seeing the unfortunate before him, it is not difficult to completely forget about them. His present service had once again placed him in the midst of real life and had opened before his eyes this whole world, full of tears and suffering.

In this way John received a double upbringing: upbringing in the wilderness, which strengthened his spirit and purified his heart to the ability to contemplate the Divine, and upbringing in social life, which shows people in their weaknesses, misfortunes, unrighteousness, and vices. The picture is sad, but acquaintance with it was necessary for him in the service that lay ahead of him, and it made of him the true pastor and benefactor of the suffering, as he later became. The first silver he gave to the poor was his own, and from that time until his death he called nothing his own, and all that he had he considered to belong to the poor.

The rank of deaconate was not combined with the church teaching that belonged to presbyters, and the very duties of this primarily charitable service did not allow time and opportunity for such teaching. But not coming out with verbal teaching, John did not abandon his written teaching, and to this time belong several of his remarkable discourses, such as the "Three Homilies to the Ascetic Stagirius", in which he gave one of the friends of his youth consolation in the despondency that had overtaken him, proving that everything in human life is under the guidance of God's Providence and therefore everything is directed for the better, and precisely towards the shame of the age-old misanthrope – the devil. as well as the discourses "On Virginity" and "To the Young Widow". Both of these considerations are full of the most lofty thoughts, and the latter is all the more cordial because in it John could refer to the example of his own mother, who found sufficient consolation in widowhood, devoting herself entirely to the maternal care of the worthy education of her son. In all these considerations, John was a strict zealot for bodily purity, and they contain everything that can only serve to strengthen the spirit in the struggle against the temptations of the flesh. Finally, it can be thought that at this time he published in a final revised form the book "On the Priesthood", which, at first written only for his friend Basil and addressed in a close circle of friends, was now published for the edification of all ministers of the Church and all Christians in general.

In the rank of deacon, John served for five years. Meanwhile, the pious Bishop Meletius ended his life full of trials, and in his place was chosen the presbyter Flavian, respected by all for his pastoral teaching. The new bishop had long been acquainted with John, who had been his pupil in the Antiochian school, and seeing in him a most useful figure for the Church, he elevated him to the rank of presbyter (386). John was at that time about 39 years old, and having reached the age of a perfect man, with full awareness of the importance of his lofty service, he entered upon the exercise of his office.

He had a lot of work ahead of him. If anywhere, it was in Antioch that pastors were needed who would have enough courage and zeal to fight against many obstacles to a truly Christian life. Antioch was one of the largest and richest cities in the east. At this time, it numbered up to 200,000 souls, of which half were pagans and Jews, and half were Christians. Paganism, which was living out its days, had its most prominent representatives here, who, unwilling to recognize the obviously triumphant victory of Christianity, tried to put up against it pitiful fragments of their learning and philosophy, and at the same time imperceptibly renew paganism itself, interpreting it in a higher sense than it was usually understood. In pagan schools taught famous rhetoricians and philosophers of that time, under whom even Christians studied, and many of the latter could not help but be infected by the views of their teachers. On the other hand, the Jews, strong in their wealth and industry, held the population in their hands, and, as haters of Christianity, were sometimes not averse to making an alliance even with the pagans, in order in one way or another to strike blows at the hated religion of the Cross. Further, the very co-existence of the Christians with the pagans and Jews, with whom they had to be bound by numerous business, commercial, and industrial interests, naturally put a peculiar stamp on them, and they could no longer have that integrity and immediacy of religious mood which is found in a city inhabited only by Christians. For the most part, they were still semi-pagans. They accepted Christianity as a religion, fulfilled its external prescriptions and decrees, but it was still little imbued with its spirit, and in life there were many manners and customs that echoed paganism. Under the influence of such a mixture of convictions, teachers constantly appeared among Christians who wanted to comprehend and remake Christianity with their own minds, like pagan philosophers and rhetoricians. Hence disputes and strife arose between different teachers, various trends and parties were formed, which often waged a fierce struggle among themselves, which brought extreme confusion into church life. Some teachers directly preached heresies and various errors, became the heads of schisms, and all this together made the Church of Antioch like a ship tossed about by incessant winds. There were representatives of various heresies - Arians, Anomoeans, and Gnostics in their various forms, there were leaders of schisms, and the pastors of the Church had to fight against all these enemies of the true faith. But side by side with religious disorders there were also moral and social ones. If religion was not pure, then morality could not be high. Of course, there were highly pious people, fully worthy of their calling, but the majority led a semi-pagan life, indulging in passions and all kinds of amusements unbecoming for Christians. For them, theaters or circuses were more attractive than churches. And at the same time, there was little Christian love for one's neighbor. As in large industrial cities in general, and especially in ancient times, the most abject poverty huddled next to untold riches.

In order to rule the ship of the Church so stormy for good, valiant and self-sacrificing pastors were truly needed.

Such was John. Himself a native of Antioch, he knew his native city with all its good and bad sides, he knew not only by appearance, but also penetrated into all the secrets of its inner life. There could not have been a better shepherd for Antioch. The pious Bishop Flavian was fully aware of this and, valuing in his disciple an irreplaceable helper, granted him the widest freedom of activity and, above all, freedom of preaching. In the rank of deacon, John was engaged only in works of charity, now he acted as a church teacher, and immediately revealed his extraordinary gifts. The very first sermon delivered by him, precisely on the occasion of his consecration to the dignity of presbyter, made an excellent impression on the numerous assembly of worshippers who had arrived at the celebration of the consecration of their beloved deacon. But this sermon spoke more of the preacher's modesty and extraordinary humility than of his merits. On the other hand, the more the talent of the new preacher developed, and in Antioch of different faiths and tribes, greedy for all news and rumors, the rumor quickly spread that a preacher had appeared, who was worth listening to. And the church, where he served and preached, was always filled with listeners, who listened with amazement and delight to John's inspired speeches. The Antiochians loved eloquence and therefore held rhetoricians like Livanius in high esteem. But now they heard an orator who far surpassed this famous rhetorician, and surpassed him in the very power and persuasiveness of his speech. Livanius, with his pompous eloquence, artificial phrases and sonorous phrases, could captivate and delight the ear, but did not touch the heart. On the contrary, his pupil, without resorting to any artificial interweaving of words and without being carried away by the ringing of phrases, struck with the extraordinary vitality of his speech: with him every word breathed power and life, because it was taken from the reality known to everyone and explained by examples that were equally understandable to a highly educated patrician and to the most recent farmer. Such sermons had never before been heard in Antioch, and its inhabitants listened with amazement to the words of the preacher, who completely took possession of their hearts, so that they either trembled at the depiction of the horrors of God's wrath, or rejoiced in the hope of endless mercy.

The Antiochians were especially surprised by the fact that John did not read his sermons, but delivered them from the fullness of his heart, conducting lively oral conversations with his listeners. Never before had there been anything like it in Antioch, and no one had ever preached the word of God, without a book or a scroll. John was the first such extraordinary preacher. From his lips poured such grace that the listeners could neither be amazed nor satiated by his discourses. Therefore, the scribes did not fail to appear in the church, who wrote down after the preacher and passed on their notes and sold them to a large number of comers. His sermons became the subject of general conversation, and they were read even at feasts and at marketplaces, and many memorized them. When it became known that this sweet-tongued rhetorician would lead the conversation, the whole city was in motion: the merchants left their trade, the builders their buildings, the lawyers their courts, the artisans their crafts, and all rushed to the church, so that it was considered a special happiness to hear John, and all vied in inventing words of praise for him: some called him "the mouth of God and Christ," others sweet-tongued, still others were called honey-drinking, and thus, already at that time, the voice of the people, as the voice of God, created for them that nickname - Chrysostom, under which their name is immortalized in the history and church of Christ. Tradition has preserved the very case in which this nickname occurred. Not confining himself to moral instruction, John sometimes came out with a dogmatic teaching about the sublime truths of religion, and often went into such theological wisdom that turned out to be inaccessible to many listeners. On one such occasion, a simple woman, listening with reverence to the stream of the great preacher's speech, could not penetrate the meaning of these words, which were sweet to the ear, and with pure feminine impatience she cried out to him from the people: "Spiritual teacher, or rather John Chrysostom, you have deepened the well of your holy teaching to such an extent that our short minds cannot comprehend it!" The people picked up the name expressed by the woman and, seeing in it an indication from God, decided to call their favorite preacher Chrysostom[6]. This incident, by the way, did not remain without influence on John himself. He became convinced that it was useless to address the people with a "cunning word," and after that he always tried to decorate his conversations with simple and instructive words, so that even the simplest listener could understand him and receive spiritual benefit. John's sermons were all the more powerful and significant, since he combined the gift of speech with the gift of wonderworking, so that many sick people received from him not only spiritual consolation, but also bodily healing.

If, in general, John loved to preach the word of God, so that there was not a week during which he did not speak this or that discourse, and sometimes he preached two or three times a week, then, on special occasions, his zeal increased still more and his inspiration flared up even more. To the first years of his presbyteric service belongs the honoring of the memory of Archbishop Meletios, highly revered by Antioch. He died in the year 381 in Constantinople and at the same time his ashes were transported to Antioch, but as a result of unfavorable circumstances, it was only after the lapse of five years that the Antiochians were able to properly venerate the memory of their deeply revered saint. And this solemn celebration, in all likelihood, took place under the influence of John himself, who deeply honored the memory of Meletius as an archpastor, who especially contributed much to his spiritual rebirth and strengthening. The celebration took place in the first year of John's presbyter service, and on the occasion of this celebration he pronounced a eulogy in which, with a genuine feeling of reverence for the memory of the deceased archpastor, he depicted his significance for the church, as well as the love of his flock for their pious archpastor. Their reverence for him reached such a point that in his honor names were given to children, and his image was worn by many on rings, made on seals, on chalices and on the walls of palaces, so that the great saint, even having departed from this world, continued to live with his flock. The speech made an indelible impression on everyone, and the name of the sweet-voiced preacher became inseparable from the name of the great hierarch of Antioch. But soon the Antiochians were to be even more convinced of what a great shepherd they had in the person of John.

Two years of his pastoral service in Antioch passed. The Great Lent of 388 was approaching, and the great preacher was anticipating a rich harvest in the field of popular repentance. But suddenly an event happened that was supposed to direct his thoughts to another subject. The population of Antioch had long been rebellious, and popular passions more than once flared up with terrible force. The same thing happened now, and on an extraordinary scale. The empire had enjoyed peace for nearly ten years under the wise rule of Theodosius, who, having ascended the throne under the most difficult circumstances, when barbarians threatened from everywhere, had by his courage succeeded in securing the state and improving it at home. As a tender father, he had raised his son Arcadius to the dignity of Augustus four years before, and as the fifth anniversary of this important event for his son was approaching, he resolved to celebrate it in the most solemn manner throughout the empire, and for reasons of economy he added to it the celebration in honor of the tenth anniversary of his own reign (although there was still a year before its fulfillment). Such festivities were usually associated with great expenses, since generous gifts were distributed to all the troops, five gold pieces per person. In order not to burden the state treasury, Theodosius decided to make do with the tax from the large rich cities, which during his peaceful reign had accumulated enormous wealth. But these cities were the least grateful and had no desire to bear the costs of the national celebration. Alexandria was the first to rise up against the imperial edict, followed by Antioch. When the imperial edict of the tax was read in Antioch, the local senators, forgetting their dignity, jumped up from their seats, and, running out into the street, began to shout that the new tax would ruin Antioch and force its inhabitants to sell their property, their wives and children. These complaints fell like sparks on combustible material. In Antioch, as in all large cities, there was a mass of homeless wandering people who were ready to take advantage of any opportunity for rebellion, and they immediately began to move, and after them the whole population was agitated. The excited crowd first went to the house of Bishop Flavian to ask him to intercede for the abolition of the tax; but as he was not at home, the increasing crowd began to riot in the city, destroyed one of the richest public baths, and then, with furious shouts, marched to the house of the governor, or praetor. The governor, unexpectedly seized by this rebellion, thought it best to hide through the secret doors of the house, and the crowd burst into the praetorium itself. Then a majestic spectacle opened before her eyes: in the most conspicuous places stood silently statues of the Emperor Theodosius himself, his wife (now deceased) Empress Flacilla, their son Arcadius, and other members of the imperial house. The crowd felt an involuntary reverence for these silent images of imperial majesty, and the more prudent began to exhort the people to disperse. But the matter was spoiled by several mischievous boys, who, not realizing the gravity of their crime, began to throw stones at these statues, and when one of the rascals accurately struck one of the statues, the charm of the crowd was destroyed, and the blow of the stone served as a signal for a new explosion of violence in the crowd. "Down with the tyrants," roared the crowd, and with fierce shouts began to break and smash the imperial statues, which dragged through the streets with various mockery and were thrown into the Orontes River in a disfigured state.

But no sooner had this abominable outrage been committed, than the people themselves came to their senses, and, realizing all the heinousness of their crime, fell into terrible despondency, justly expecting severe punishment. The crime was really great. The Emperor Theodosius could forgive everything, even the insult inflicted on him, but not the insult inflicted on his beloved, mourned wife Flacilla. The people of Antioch could well expect terrible vengeance from the offended emperor. He could burn and destroy Antioch, and execute its inhabitants mercilessly or sell them into slavery. The very thought of what had happened terrified and stupefied everyone. But what to do now? Who can protect the Antiochians from the vengeance they deserve? No one but God, and the people rushed into the church weeping, wringing their hands and beating their breasts in despair. If ever, then now it was he who needed a word of consolation, and everyone longed to hear it from the lips of Chrysostom John. The valiant pastor did not remain indifferent to the plight of his flock, but the crime committed was so great that his golden lips closed before him. Stricken with unspeakable grief, he remains silent for a week, as if wishing to make the people's soul feel more deeply all the madness and sinfulness of the violence he has committed. Finally, already on Saturday or Sunday of Cheesefare week, he appeared to the people with deep sorrow on his brow and did not fail to address them with words of pastoral consolation and edification, and now more than ever the people felt all the sweetness of the inspired speeches of their beloved sweet-tongued preacher. "What to say to me or what to talk about? He began amidst the sighs and cries of the audience. "Now is the time for tears, not for speech; sobs, not words; prayers, not sermons. The deed is so great, the wound is so incurable, the ulcer is so deep, that it is above all healing and requires higher help. Let me mourn the present calamity. For seven days I have been silent, like the friends of Job: let me now open my mouth and weep over this common calamity. Who wished us harm, beloved? Who is jealous of us? Where does this change come from? Nothing was more glorious than our city; Nothing was more pitiful for him now. The people, so quiet and meek, always obedient to the affairs of the rulers, now suddenly became furious, so that they caused such riots that it is unseemly to speak of. I weep and weep now - not because of the importance of the threatening punishment, but because of the extreme madness that has been done. My voice is interrupted by weeping, I can hardly open my mouth, move my tongue and pronounce words"... The cries of the people, and especially of women and children, interrupted and drowned out these stunning words of Chrysostom. But he did not leave his flock in this desperate state and gave them words of consolation, with which he wiped away bitter tears, comforted the pains of their hearts and calmed everyone with hope in God's mercy. We must always rely on God in everything. "A Christian," he said, "must distinguish himself from the unbelievers and, encouraged by the hope of the future, stand above the attack of human evils. So, beloved, stop despairing. We are not so much concerned about our own salvation as it is God who created us who cares about us."

With a relieved heart, the people went home. Meanwhile, his elderly archpastor was already taking care of him. When messengers galloped up from Antioch to Constantinople with news of the revolt and their stories could incite the emperor to the most terrible, merciless vengeance, the aged Saint Flavian decided to do everything possible to soften the royal wrath. He was already in old age and weak in body; But in spite of this, he decided to personally go to the capital in order to calm the righteous anger of the emperor by his intercession. The path was long and difficult, especially for the elder[7]; but he, as a true shepherd, was ready to lay down his life for his sheep, and indeed immediately set out on his journey, even trying to warn the messengers. Unfortunately, deep snows detained him in the Taurus mountains, and the messengers arrived before him; But he did not lose heart, and, overcoming all obstacles and difficulties, continued on his way until he arrived in the capital with a trembling heart. No one could have guessed how this intercession of the loving, self-sacrificing elder-archpastor would end. For this reason the people were in an unusually tormenting state, and it was during this terrible, tormenting time that John was the true comforter of the suffering people. Day after day, almost continuously for twenty-two days, he spoke with words of edification and consolation before his unfortunate flock, and the people listened with trembling attention to their Chrysostom pastor, who in his famous "Discourses on Statues" depicted with extraordinary vividness the horrors and riots he had experienced, arousing in the people shame and indignation at their own madness and evoking tears of repentance, then he painted with genuine features the boundlessness of God's mercy, thus awakening the sweet hope of mercy, and each time the people left the church with more and more purified and calmed hearts, sending thanks to the Lord God for the immeasurable happiness to have such a great and truly good pastor-preacher.

John continued his conversations with the people of Antioch throughout almost the entire Great Lent, and they provide striking proof of the spiritual communion in which the famous pastor lived and worked.