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The Life of St. Theotonius
First Prior
of the Monastery of the Holy Cross
in Coimbra, Portugal
(1132—1162)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE - HIS ORIGIN, BIRTH, AND EARLY EDUCATION
CHAPTER TWO - HIS PREPARATION FOR THE PRIESTHOOD
CHAPTER THREE - HIS CONDUCT AS A PRIEST
CHAPTER FOUR - HIS CHASTITY
CHAPTER FIVE - HIS SECOND PILGRIMAGE TO JERUSALEM
CHAPTER SIX - THE FOUNDATION OF THE MONASTERY OF THE HOLY CROSS OF COIMBRA
CHAPTER SEVEN - HIS CONDUCT IN THE MONASTERY
CHAPTER EIGHT - HIS TEACHING AS PRIOR
CHAPTER NINE - HIS MERCY
CHAPTER TEN - THE GRACE OF HEALING
CHAPTER ELEVEN - HIS POWER OVER THE DEVILS
CHAPTER TWELVE - AN ANECDOTE ON THE POWER OF HIS PRAYERS
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - HIS CONDUCT AS PRIOR, HIS TREATMENT OF THOSE IN THE WORLD, AND HIS FRIENDSHIP WITH THE KING
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - HE STEPS DOWN AS PRIOR; HIS LAST YEARS
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - HIS DEPARTURE FROM THE WORLD
INTRODUCTION
HERE BEGINS THE LIFE OF BLESSED DOM THEOTONIUS,
FIRST PRIOR OF THE
MONASTERY OF THE HOLY CROSS OF COIMBRA
Since, as the philosopher says, we should call upon God even in the smallest matter, how much more, then, should we implore his aid when writing of great men, who, after they trod the devil underfoot, received the crown of security. Who doubts that Dom Theotonius should be numbered among these men? He has but just now departed from us so as to go up with a joyful spirit to the heavenly Jerusalem, which, while he was yet upon this earth, he sought after and contemplated with all devotion. Yet the dart of longing for him has wounded us with unbearable pain. So it is that as often as I strive to burst out in speech, so often do my eyes fill with tears, my voice choke up, and the sobs cut off my words. What should I do? Should I weep yet more? Holy Writ forbids such a thing. Therefore I shall not bewail the dying, for I shall receive him again rising with Christ. For indeed I know that he is with Christ. Shall I rejoice and be glad, therefore, because he was snatched away lest wickedness pervert the mind of a man whose soul was pleasing to God? (cf. Wis 4:10:11) But in his absence I cannot bear the longing, and my affection for a man of such greatness breaks my heart. I am unable to mask the sorrow I suffer. Nevertheless I grieve not his lot, but my own. The happier he is, so much the more am I plunged in grief, because I find myself lacking such a good.
Permit me to recall his memory in writing, though I judge that I am quite unequal to such a task. It would be more prudent for me to admire such a man than to speak of him, for scanty resources do not suffice for great matters, and the better and more nobly something should have been said, so much the more does he fall short, who is unable to set forth the greatness of a venerable life about which I am unworthy to speak. For what priest is more excellent than my lord, who by his virtues, as though by the light of stars, has lit up these western regions? And who among the clergy is weaker than I, who am assisted by no flowing waters of knowledge, who am hardly touched even by a few scanty drops of dripping water, and can draw forth nothing from my own fountain? Yet, although I despair of my suitability for such a task, when I lift up my mind to the Giver of gifts, Who sets loose the tongue of the dumb (Is 35:6), Who puts eloquence on the lips of babes (Ps 8:3), and Who, when He wills, even proclaims His truth through the mouth of asses (Num 22:30), then do I quickly find strength to recall the memory of Dom Theotonius. For I judge that it would be a grave crime and full of envy to be altogether silent about such a father, and to cover over this outstanding man of our times with this fruitless silence.
By the gift of grace, therefore, through which Dom Theotonius has been joined to the chorus of the saints, I shall try to write a few things about his way of life, running quickly through, and so to speak, making great leaps. For conscious of my own unskillfulness, and measuring the scantiness of my own talent, I shall leave his holiest deeds to be fully described by those who are older and, consequently, wiser. With Christ as my guide, it is my intent to write, even though it be with unpolished speech, so as to relieve my own sorrow, the greatest and chief cause of my undertaking this work, and also so as to contribute to the edification of my brothers. It will be a consolation not to be despised, so I believe, if the light which was among us should be made to present and future readers. The mind weighed down by such great sorrows has, perhaps, not kept to the form of the preface, but now let what has been said suffice.
CHAPTER ONE
HIS ORIGIN, BIRTH, AND EARLY EDUCATION
Dom Theotonius, a man of a most venerable life, was the first father of the monastery of the Holy Cross of Coimbra. That we might make more clearly known how divine grace brought him, not without it being for the salvation of many, to regular profession and the government of the aforesaid monastery, it will be necessary first to speak a little of where he was born, by whom he was taught his letters, and how he conducted himself in the world.
He came from the province of Gallicia, from the city of Tuy, from the village of Ganfei. He was born of upright and just parents, to wit, Oveco, his father, and Eugenia, his mother. He so exalted, with his devout manners and adorned, with his noble deeds, his ancestral line, already known for its piety, that it was not without a certain great foreshadowing of the Holy Spirit that he was called by the Greek name, Theotonius, which is translated 'Godly'. Truly he was a godly and holy man, who, from a tender age, wherever he dwelt, was always rooted firmly in the Catholic faith, and also displayed a life filled with holy customs and virtues.
After being nurtured in a most pious manner by the loving care of his parents, he was entrusted, upon reaching an age fit for learning, to the spiritual study of letters. Later, when he found himself midway on the path between boyhood and youth, he came to Coimbra with his maternal uncle, Dom Cresconio, Bishop of Coimbra, who was his teacher. There under the direction of Tello, Archdeacon of the same city, a man of prudence and discretion, he learned fully and by heart the ecclesiastical practice of reading and chant, according to the custom of the time. Later, after the aforementioned Bishop passed away, he sought out the city of Viseu, where on account of his simplicity and the favor of the deceased Bishop, he was welcomed in the Diocese of the Blessed Mary Ever Virgin, which at that time was subject to the Diocese of Coimbra. There the Lord gave him grace in the sight of the clergy and all the people of the city. Indeed, when he had altogether passed the time of infancy and reached the branching of the Pythagorean letter, without hesitation he abandoned the left hand branch and the pleasures of the world, and he began, with all his might, to yearn for the right hand path, ardent with heavenly longing. He also began to gain such a mastery of himself by self discipline that, although tender in years, he was held to be, in all things, good, mature, and grave.
CHAPTER TWO
HIS PREPARATION FOR THE PRIESTHOOD
It will be a pleasure, now, with the help of God's grace, briefly to show the care he displayed in his different orders and his conduct in the Church. Permit me to speak, even to religious men, of what is already known. In the first place he was ordained Doorkeeper. The keys of the Church were entrusted to him. This he would shut with pious zeal. Previously, they say, it used to be left open, through negligence, to unclean animals, namely goats and pigs. Moreover, he used to open the Church at fitting times. With Christian zeal he would cast out the excommunicated and infidels:
he would religiously guard all that was either within or without the Church; he would faithfully and serviceably proclaim the readings of the Prophets and Apostles, while altogether avoiding in his reading or singing, any effeminate, broken, rustic, or brutish sound. Addressing the ears and the heart, not the eyes, he would make the congregation to be his hearers rather than his spectators. He would perform the sacrament of opening for the catechumens. He would read the exorcism over unclean spirits and, by the grace of God and in virtue of his ordination, he cast them out of obsessed bodies - this because he had the spirit of God within him, and his life was not at variance with his office. Thus through the office he had received he would banish the devil from other bodies, because, through purity of life, he had banished him from his own heart. He would bring the light for the reading of the Gospel and show forth works of light to his neighbor. I ask you, if he showed himself to be such in the office of Doorkeeper, how would he be as priest? He did not despise any obligation, be it great or small. He was always solicitous that the altar be resplendent, the walls free of soot, the floor swept, the tabernacle clean, the vessels shining, the lamps alight.
Later, after he was ordained a subdeacon, who could describe how, serving God in humility, he would bring to the altar, for the deacons, the vessels of the Body and Blood of Christ, and then would carry them back again? Or how he used to wash the corporals, palls, and altar-cloths? Or how he would hold for the Bishop the pitcher with water for his hands and the towel? Or how he would offer to the priest and levites water for washing their hands before the altar? As I believe, a blameless priest was being made ready in the Church of God.
I pass over the devotion which they say he would show, as a deacon, in admonishing all, in a clear voice, either to genuflect or to pray, in dispensing the Sacraments of God, in preaching the Gospel, in assisting the priest in all the Sacraments of Christ, in bearing the gifts to the altar, in preparing, setting in order, and vesting the table of the Lord. Let us go on to the priesthood. Adorned with such customs he ascended step by step to the priesthood. He did not approach through presumption, as some have, but according to the custom of the universal Church - indeed it was the Church that called him to herself; he did not shamelessly put himself forward.
CHAPTER THREE
HIS CONDUCT AS A PRIEST
Thus after being ordained a priest he began to grow by great leaps in prudence of customs and maturity of good conduct, and to live with more upright character among the people of God. For he would live so as to give the good example of his life to all. He fulfilled in an admirable manner the duties of his priesthood by catechizing the rustic peoples, baptizing them, and incorporating them into the Church. He would call the delinquent to penance, heal them with the medicine of his prayers and words of consolation, absolve them, and reconcile them to God. He would pray to God for the sins of the people. As a good mediator between God and man he would bring to the people the precepts of God, by preaching the truth, and offer to God the prayers of the people, interceding for their sins, offering sacrifices on the altar, which were pleasing to God, reciting the prayers, and blessing the gifts of God. Moreover, he would always conduct himself with fear and godly reverence in the Church, and would in a fitting manner fulfill his heavenly office. Further he scorned debauchery and the allurements of this perishing world. He was not inflated by praise, nor puffed up by riches, nor downcast by poverty, but always despised both joy and sorrow. By day the sun did not strike him, nor the moon in the night (Ps 120:6).
Some praise him because he never followed after curiosity, nor enslaved himself to pleasure, nor became an avid prey to ambition, nor sought any other such thing. I praise him yet more because being circumspect and provident in all his acts he always shone forth on account of his chaste comportment. In a word, he would beware, so it is said, of anything that could give rise to suspicion and anything that the wicked might use to fashion plausible lies and thus he did not wish to have in his house either bed, a bench, or even a footstool on which to repose or seat himself. Indeed, following the words of Blessed Gregory, he held it to be proper to holy men that as they are always far from illicit things, they even remove from themselves many licit things. Lest, therefore, he incur blame on account of some woman, he never wanted to hold converse with them nor even hear a private confession except in the presence of a witness. For he used to say that if it were necessary to say something of an intimate nature, none of them was so inhuman as not to have such and such a woman whom she could trust to accompany her to confession. Nevertheless he loved every woman as though she were his sister, but, as we have said, he kept himself far from all familiarities, as though he were avoiding an enemy. On account of such comportment he won to himself not only the princes and all the citizens, but even all the inhabitants of the province, such that they venerated him with wondrous affection, as a father and revered teacher of souls of both men and women.
He was then overcome by the entreaties of his fellow citizens, and above all by the order of Dom Gonsalves, Bishop of Coimbra, to whom belonged the Church of Viseu, to assume the priorship of the same Church, though this was extremely contrary to his own will, as later came to be seen. Through his prudent discretion he enriched it with temporal goods such as books, vestments, bells, crosses and chalices of gilt silver, and also many bibles. He also raised it, in an admirable way, to the peak of honor which it now possesses. He elevated the clergy, helping and honoring them, and - what is more than all this - making them rich in virtue.
Because, however, this temporal honor did not give him the least pleasure, and knowing it to be in fact not an honor but a burden, the priest of God sought for a salutary artifice by which he might free himself from its hold. Setting out for Jerusalem, he handed the priorship over in peace to his companion, the priest Honorio. Returning from there, however, he was not willing to receive it back again, though he was much prevailed upon to do so by the entreaties of all and by the petitions of the same Honorio. He passed all the remainder of his life in such unanimity and concord with this man that one would judge that they were true brothers. >From this time onward, however, he did not desire to hold another honored post in this world. In fact, he was a great many times implored by the Count Henry and his most noble spouse the Queen Teresa, with petitions and exhortations, and with the concordance of the clergy and of the whole people, to assume the office of pastoral care, that is the episcopacy, but never was he willing to give his assent.
He was accustomed to regard all worldly things as vile and transitory, and harmful as well. Therefore, fleeing from temporal honors as from a pestilence, he would guard himself in a sort of fortress of humility and he would preach virginity of spirit and of the body and repentance of evil, while observing these things himself. He never ceased to sow in the people words of truth abounding in the true fruit of faith. Now he would exhort all to the good works of the Christian religion, now he would confirm others in the confession of the Holy Trinity, now he would invite the rest with promises of the Kingdom of heaven. Moreover, fearing no one, he would strike fornicators and other male factors with the sword of anathema. These would quickly amend their lives, or, if by chance they were unwilling to change, would retreat far from his sight. So great was the authority of this priest that even the princes of the land feared to offend him. The story is told that one day as he was preaching in the church of Viseu, the aforementioned Queen and Count Fernando - who at that time was her lover and not her legitimate husband - fled in haste from the church red with shame. Nor was he ever condemned by them on this account.
It happened that, one Saturday, having already vested, he wanted to offer the holy sacrifice in honor of the Mother of God as was his custom. The Queen, however, who was at the door, sent orders to him by a messenger that he should celebrate the Mass with brevity and haste. He responded - it is said - that there was in heaven a Queen far better, far nobler, in whose honor he was disposed to perform the solemnities of the Mass with the height of veneration, slowly and without haste, and that it was in her power to hear the Mass or to withdraw herself from it altogether. When this was told to the Queen, she recognized her guilt at once and proclaimed repeatedly that she was both wretched and a sinner, whereas Dom Theotonius, in speaking the truth, was just and holy. After the Mass she summoned him to her side and promptly, with humbled spirit, cast herself at his feet. At the insistence of the priest she rose and then besought him with tears for a penance and humbly begged him to pray for her. He warned her that she ought never again bring forth such impudent and vain words against the divine cult; the Queen promised to amend without the least hesitation.
The holy man would never make exception of persons. He would never set anything before the divine liturgy so as, at any time, to celebrate it with less splendor or without the due honor, or more hurriedly than was the custom. But with all his might he loved the Kingdom of Christ, he who did not fear the earthly prince. So, as I said above, he would give warning to all and would hasten to bring all to the Kingdom of God, as though he had begotten them all.
But neither was he himself a forgetful preacher of the word of God. He would care for the poor, visit the sick, offer assistance and calm them with caresses. He would give to the poor the greater part of his labor and of all that he had. He would use the remainder to provide for a modest wardrobe. Later he would, from a sense of compassion, give away his very clothing, above all to widows.
Every Friday he had the custom of celebrating Mass for all the faithful departed in the Church of Saint Michael the Archangel, which is outside the walls in the cemetery of the same city. On this day, through respect for the priest and in memory of those whom they loved, there would gather the solemn assembly of all the people of the city. They would offer devotedly, as is the custom of that region, many and various offerings. Dom Theotonius, not reserving any of this for himself, would, after the Mass and the general cemetery procession, distribute all these things joyfully and inconspicuously to all the needy. This was always his custom regarding the practice of good works: he would labor with all his might to keep them hidden. But as much as holy men strive to hide these acts they become known to all, even though it be against their will.
If among such and such great virtues I should want to praise his chastity it would, perhaps, seem superfluous, since he was, as I began to say above, always a model of chastity. Nevertheless I must not pass over a few things which seem to commend his chastity.
There was, then, a certain woman, who according to the corruption of the flesh seemed beautiful, who sought him out as a personal friend and to this end fashioned, with flattering speech, a well conceived pretext. But later, the servant of God learned that a snare of deception had been prepared for him by this slave of the devil. As the spirit grew hot within him, with great effort, he spit in the face of that wretched woman and rebuked her as she deserved.
Many were the times that the enemy of the human race sought to lay snares for him on account of his beauty. Indeed, his stature was so well constituted that it appeared to have been formed with becoming and admirable measures. He was well built and exceedingly handsome. He was of pleasing features and a lively expression, revealing goodness rather than dissolution.
Once he was called by another woman, who was of elevated estate, to come to her house for a reasonable cause, as it seemed, to which he came accompanied by clerics. She, however, like a lustful beast, called him apart to an inner room on the pretext of a religious matter, and began to lavish him with voluptuous blandishments, to hang in suspense upon his words, to render him every service, to remove his shoes and bathe his feet as though it were on account of the heat of the day. The truth, however, is that she wished to lure him to some unlawful deed. Dom Theotonius, however, whom no woman had ever touched, nor even had any stood near him when he was alone, was astonished at the insistence of the impudent woman. When he recognized what the shameless woman intended, he recollected himself with the sign of the Cross and, with his feet bare as they were, making a great effort, rushed outside, leaving his shoes behind. Then, cursing that house, he called the clerics who had come with him and betook himself to the church.
A man who is mindful of the rhetorical art would compare such a man with the chaste Joseph and permit me to say that, leaving aside the majesty of the mystery, I would not find him inferior. Joseph left behind his robe, but Dom Theotonius, fleeing for a different reason, by the grace of God, left behind his shoes. The former, by distributing the wheat in due time, saved the once perishing Egyptian people; the latter, by giving to the people the good and well packed measure of the word of God and of the faith, delivered many from spiritual famine and the yoke of the devil's damnation. The former had sons of the flesh; the latter, as they say, was immaculate from his mother's womb. Whence, in such matters, no shadow of fault could ever be found in him - a most outstanding man, who so lived in this world that even none of the blasphemers dared to fashion lies about him! He so conducted himself in the world that he already seemed to be not of the world, but, indeed, a religious. Who could explain the greatness of his good works and how, in the same city, waxing strong with the ornaments of character, for forty and more years he stirred up the love of God in all the citizens by word and example? But, because the deeds are exceedingly great and my ability scanty, I confess that I am unable to narrate them. Since things attempted beyond one's strength fail in the very striving I shall pass by such things for the time and turn my pen to his second departure for Jerusalem.
CHAPTER FIVE
HIS SECOND PILGRIMAGE TO JERUSALEM
In the ardor of his virtue and with longing for the Holy Places, mindful of neither house, nor relatives, nor followers, nor property, nor anything that pertains to this world, he took leave of his homeland with not a small number of pilgrims and set out once more to Jerusalem on the road long desired. Indeed the devout man had already made the journey once before. Coming safely at the end of ten weeks, guided by God, to the port of Saint Nicholas, there he dwelt yet six weeks, for a favorable wind had ceased to blow. He did not remain idle, but, as was certainly commendable, during his entire stay there, as in all of his pilgrimage, he displayed his kindness to the poor and with word and example incited the citizens and those bound to Jerusalem to works of mercy and, what was not less dear to God, he restored peace and concord where there had been dissension. Everyone found him to be just and holy, and respecting him as a sort of father, they were attentive to his exhortation - themselves being silent - and obeyed him with the greatest diligence.
At last a favorable wind arose and he embarked. I need not speak of the pilgrims whose passage he paid and those whom he took with him, purely out of respect for God, to provide them with food. Then the sailors unfurled the sails to the wind, setting their course for Jerusalem. But when, at the end of some days, they were sailing by the Cape of Malea, they all found themselves in great peril due to a sudden tempest at sea.
I desire to commit to memory how the event took place so that, from the danger which is seen in a part of the pilgrimage of such a great man, one might easily learn, by way of a similitude, how many and how grave were the dangers he endured, on land and on sea, for the name of Christ.
So it was that, while the ship's keel was cuffing the waters off the promontory of Malea, the sky suddenly grew dark and behold, a cloud, accompanied by violent winds and a terrible roar overshadowed them. Setting the sea into an upheaval from its depths it drove down upon them a tempest of waves which hung over them like mountains of water. Now it would plunge the ship, unbalanced by the mass of waves, into the deep, now it would toss it from the cavernous depths to the peaks and crests of the swell. Again it would cast the ship down amidst the open waves and -what is amazing to say - draw the waters of the sea to the heights, as though through a clearly marked channel, what the sailors call a waterspout.
But the sailors, who had recognized the tempest beforehand, as soon as the ship began to be tossed amidst the stormy waves and after the top of the mast suddenly snapped off and was cast into the waves, began to take down the sails, lash the cables and yards, and put all the ship's gear in order lest it be thrown overboard by the violence of the waters. Then, so as to lighten the ship, they began to toss away the cargo. Nevertheless they were unable to attain even the least calm, for the sea came and swept over those men, shaken by the fear of death.
Yet terror followed upon terror, for the fear of death mounted yet higher when all who found themselves in that same watery peril beheld a monstrous and exceedingly fearsome beast, so frightening that it could not be compared to any other beast. It's eyes, as the saint used to tell us, looked like burning torches of fire. Some said it was a dragon, others a monster, others a demon. Why must I delay further? All hope of salvation had been taken from them. When, therefore, the raging waves braced for the kill and their limbs were shaking with fear and all bad been cast into confusion by the presence of death and by the vision of the monster and were ready to die, they all made peace with each other. They implored with tears the help of the Almighty so that He Who had given over their bodies to so frightful an end would receive their souls with all benignity or liberate them through His mercy.
Dom Theotonius, however, prostrate in prayer and weeping as well, turned completely to God, and after having prayed psalms and litanies, invoked the Lord of life and of the spirit in this manner, saying:
Son of the living God, Son of Holy Mary
Who are One God with the Father and the Holy Spirit
in the Most High Trinity and true Unity,
Hasten to help us, encompassed by great danger,
That we may be saved from the sea's raging waves
and merit to see the glorious sepulcher of Your holy Resurrection,
to which we come from the ends of the earth to venerate and kiss,
and so may we give thanks for Your deliverance.
He exhorted all, and consoling them with what words he was able, counseled them to confess one to another and pardon each other with their whole heart and, believing and praying, to place all their confidence in God. He proclaimed to them that, if they persevered, they would soon see the clemency of the Redeemer. This very thing came to pass, for, while all this was taking place on the ship, Almighty God, Who in a marvelous way had frightened their souls, in a yet more marvelous way showed them His mercy. Behold, beyond all their hopes the rushing of wind began to abate, the swells of the water fell little by little, and the sea became calm. A new light broke forth for them. They who were already banded over to death beheld the stillness of the waves. Everyone blessed exultantly the God of Heaven, giving Him due praises and intoning, nobly, the Gloria in excelsis Deo, because the God of mercy had deigned to rescue them from this deadly pass.
I confess that I have been excessive, for I do not know how it is that, while I was loath to omit the dangers faced by the man of God, I lost all sense of brevity. But now, already, I return to my purpose.
Once freed from the Sea of Malea, with all those who were with him in the ship, three weeks after having embarked at the port of Bari, he crossed the sea and took port at the city of Joppa. He took a circuitous route, which passed by the tomb of St. George, the martyr, and so came at last to Nazareth, where the Lord Savior was raised. From there he followed the road that leads to Tabor, where the Lord was transfigured. He went up to the summit and from there he looked out with great care upon many places which the Lord had sanctified with His passage. Descending from there he directed himself with much haste to Samaria and saw the Tomb of St. John the Baptist and of the twelve minor prophets, as well as those of Elisha and Abdiah. Then, hastening his steps, he departed for the well upon which the Lord had seated Himself, hungry and thirsty, and where He had found refreshment in the faith of the Samaritan woman. After adoring the Redeemer of the world at each site he went gladly to the celebrated hill from which the long desired Jerusalem could be seen. The inhabitants call it the Mount of Rejoicing because there the pilgrims are filled with ineffable joy from the vision of the City. While he kneeled at this spot his tears, mixed with joy, declared with what great joy he exulted and how great were the thanks he gave to God.
Entering into the Holy City with joy, he set himself first to see the Cross on Mount Calvary, where Christ, the price of the world, was weighed in the balance of the Cross. Prostrate before it in heart and body, he adored as though he were seeing the Lord there suspended. He remembered the sentence of death and the curse called upon himself and every man by the disobedience of the first man, but also the clement propitiation and loving kindness of the Son of God, of Whom he had read, "He redeemed us from the curse of the Law, having become a curse for us" (Gal 3:13), and Who had endured in that same place spittle, insults, lashes, buffets, the crown of thorns, the scourging, the Cross, the nails, the gall, the vinegar, the lance, and death.
Bringing his prayer to an end, and having there set down the cross he had brought, after the custom of the pilgrims, he descended a little by the left to the site of Golgotha, where, according to legend, the Blood that flowed from the side of Christ split asunder a most hard rock. From there in a brief space he returned to the Sepulcher of the Resurrection, and upon seeing the very place where the Lord's body had lain, he was like a thirsting man who laps up with his mouth the desired waters of faith (cf Ps 41:2). The fitting meditation came to him about how the Lord Savior, after having endured so much, had taken his repose in that very sepulcher, and how, by His descent to the realm of the dead, He had caused a great and indescribable joy for those whom He brought with Him out of the depths taking captive the power of death.
From there he was led to the middle of the world, that is, to the place where Joseph of Arimathea set down the Body of the Lord, after having taken it down from the Cross, before placing it in the tomb. There he prayed with more fervor, remembering that phrase of David, "God our King wrought salvation before the ages in the midst of the earth" (Ps 73:12). From there he turned to the left, to the True Cross, for some time. The Lord to whom he prayed is the witness of how many tears and how much sorrow he poured forth upon seeing the trunk of wood on which the Lord's limbs had been fastened by nails.
Finally he came to the site where Helena found the True Cross. Throughout these oratories he prayed according to the measure of his devotion and then last betook himself to the guest house. While his spirit led him through all he had seen that day and night, he slept and reposed in the peace of his soul (Ps 4:9).
Who can recount the zeal and desire with which he passed in prayer through the holy place of Jerusalem on the following day? He entered the Temple of the Lord and, after making his prayer, went out by the gate called Beautiful, and went up to Sion to the exact place of the Supper where the Lord washed the feet of the disciples and said, "Peace be with you!" and offered His side for the doubting disciple to touch. It was there also that the Holy Spirit descended upon the hundred and twenty souls of the believers. Then returning by the Via Sacra, through which the Apostles bore the body of the Mother of God, he entered the Church of St. Peter of the Cock Crow, and into the tomb of James, brother of the Lord; he descended to the Valley of Josaphat and prayed at the tomb of the Holy Virgin Mary.(4) From there he went up to the oratory of Gethsemane, where the Lord had prayed to the Father at the foot of the Mount of Olives. From there he advanced to the site of the which the evangelist Luke said, "He withdrew from them about a stone's throw" (Lk 22:41). Turning right he went up to the top of the same Mount of Olives, from where the Savior ascended to Heaven. From there he went through the village of Bethphage and by the place where the untamed colt had received the bit of the Lord; he descended to Bethany, to the tomb of Lazarus, and to his sisters' hospitable house.
Then he continued to Bethlehem and, entering the little cave of the Savior, he fell to his knees and venerated the Virgin's holy shelter where Christ was born and, like unto an animal possessed of sense, the stable where the cow knew his Master and the donkey the manger of its Lord (cf Is 1:3). He saw also the place where Herod in his fury had killed the little babes in place of Christ.
There is no need to tell of the devotion with which he ran to the waters of the Jordan, polluted by the stain of the whole human race and purified by the baptism of the Lord. Likewise he did not pass over the place of the forty day fast where the Savior of the world, suffering to be tempted by Satan, wished to show forth by a lent that all the time of our life is a warfare in which we never cease to be tested (cf. Job 7:1). >From there, passing by the most bitter fount which Elisha once made sweet with his wisdom (2 Kings 2: i 9-22), to Jericho, he saw by the road that place where the blind men, upon their receiving their sight, prefigured the mysteries of both the peoples who believed in the Lord.
It would be a long tale indeed were I to speak of the fervor with which He went throughout Cana and Capharnaum, witnesses of the miracles of Christ; or to tell of the wonder with which he beheld the Lake of Tiberias which the Lord had sanctified, crossing it in a sea vessel, and the deserted place where with five loaves of bread and two fish, many thousands were filled. This only shall I say, that in each of the holy places he would believe that he saw Christ and would give from his possessions, as he was able, to contribute to the upkeep of those same places; he would give alms to the poor and would rejoice for having offered to God whatever he gave to them. Taking thought for the weariness of the reader I have recounted little of the holy places. He visited them with such care that no one could tear him away from the first unless it were to hasten to the others.
Many were the days in which he made his dwelling by the Sepulcher of the Lord, not so as to rest, but, due to the ardor of his faith, in prayer and the Work of God. Seeing his sanctity, the Canons Regular of the same Sepulcher commended themselves with much diligence to his prayers and made return to him in their good works. They wanted to admit him, as well, into their community should he wish to dwell with them, and were ready to give him the custody of the Sepulcher, a thing which they had understood he desired above all. He said, however, that he could by no means remain with them unless he first returned to the Spanish realms and set his house in order.
And so, commending himself to Almighty God through all Jerusalem and in all the Holy Places, each time with more longing, he took leave of the Canons and of all the servants of God and returned to Joppa, where previously he had landed. From there he was wrested by the violence of the winds through the isles of Greece and, spending much labor in the journey, now on ships, now on foot, now transported on a young ass, he came once again, at last, to the Spanish realm, to his house and its fields, planning to return shortly to Jerusalem and there to await (with great devotion) the end of his days by the glorious Sepulcher. His compatriots gave him a triumphal welcome and here I bring to an end the first part of this work.
CHAPTER SIX
THE FOUNDATION OF THE MONASTERY OF THE HOLY CROSS OF COIMBRA
In the preceding part of this work I treated summarily of the birth and life of the aforementioned holy man, and of the way in which he conducted himself in the world. Presently, it is my pleasure to treat in order, as the Lord grants me, of the way in which he came to the habit of Christ and lived in community. I invoke, therefore, the Holy Spirit, Distributor of every good, that I might treat of these things without offending the truth of the Father of Lights and without appearing to obscure the glory of the deeds which I saw or heard of him.
Now, when led on by his indefatigable spirit he was making ready to return for the third time and was ardently longing to see Jerusalem and the Holy Places, some devout men of the city of Coimbra, moved by a divine impulse I deem, forestalled him. The providence of divine counsel had already inspired them to forsake the world in all devotion and to construct a monastery for the service of God in the surroundings of Coimbra, on the northern side, where lay the royal baths. The leader was the Archdeacon Tello, a man endowed with great discernment and prudence, who invited the rest, by his example, to such a useful plan and so glorious a work. It was he who purchased the site of the monastery. It was likewise due to his wealth and counsel that the whole edifice arose from its foundations; he also, as I said above, was the teacher of Dom Theotonius.
The second was Dom John Peculiar, who at that time was the Prior of the Chapter of Coimbra and later was made Bishop of Porto and then, after the death of Dom Paio, was designated Archbishop of Braga. The third was Dom Honorio, a man of great authority, who lead the Church of St. James in a suburb of Coimbra. There was also the Prior of Santa Maria do Castelo de Montemor, Dom Sesnando - a very venerable man. There were also other devout men who from the beginning numbered eleven altogether. But to avoid prolonging this account I do not wish to set down here the names of each one.
Giving way to their pleas, then, Dom Theotonius completed the number of twelve. It was not right that they should remain as eleven. These were the principal men from the foundation of the monastery.
But before he consented to life in community, it is said that he resisted for much time and most devoutly. He pleaded that he had long ago made a vow to pass over the sea and, as was already said, keep the end of his days by the Sepulcher of the Lord. They, however, opposed him by saying that it was of greater utility that he live according to the rule of the holy Fathers in this western part of the world, where the Name of Christ was scarcely known, and show to ignorant men the formula of an upright life, than to go to Jerusalem, to which the Lord had apportioned His presence and cleansed of all doubts of faith by innumerable miracles. That place - they said - saw the Christ Child wrapped in swaddling clothes and crying in the stable, the star which shown brightly from above, the Magi adoring God, and the shepherds when they came during the night to see the Word made flesh. And in this way they recalled still more manifestations of the virtues of our Redeemer. At last the man of God was overcome by these arguments and giving his assent became their companion, and in all things partook of their lot.
Without delay he faithfully distributed the goods which he had acquired, by just means, in the world: one part he divided for the poor, one part he gave to the Church of Viseu, and one part he brought with him for the endowment of the future monastery, so that from that which he had distributed to the poor he also might live, as a voluntary pauper - he who enrolled himself in the number of the poor brothers through love of poverty. Poor in spirit he followed the poor Lord. In this way he renounced his earthly inheritance to become heir to Heaven.
And so, in the era of 1170, or in the year of the Incarnation of the Son of God 1132, they came together in unity, that is in the time of the most illustrious Infante Afonso Henriques, son of Count Henry and of Queen Teresa, who being then Infante, was Lord of Portugal, but with the passage of time and by divine generosity, subsequently became the illustrious King of almost all Lusitania and part of Galicia.
Strengthened by authority of the Infante and that of Bernardo, Bishop of Coimbra, and trusting in the counsel of other good men both lay and religious, they began to construct, on the above mentioned baths, a monastery in honor of the Holy Cross and of the Blessed Mary Mother of God, on the fourth day before the calends of July, on the vigil of the Apostles Peter and Paul. On the sixth day before the calends of the following March, at the beginning of the fast, they were fully armed as soldiers of Christ with the purpose of living in community after the example of the Apostles, under the habit and rule of blessed Augustine, they being no longer twelve, but already seventy two.
If someone will desire to know more specifications about the location of the monastery and its privileges, let him read the work of Master Dom Pedro Alfardo. For my purpose, however, let what I have said so briefly suffice to make clear the way and manner of the conversion of the man of God.
The brothers thus assembled, it was the simultaneous counsel and single voice of all, with great applause from all the community, to entrust the command to Dom Theotonius. Many and repeated times he proclaimed himself unsuited for the weight of such an office, but the virtue of obedience overcame him. So against his will and to his dislike he accepted the office, whereupon, in that very place, the rest made profession of stability beneath him.
Under the administration of this new father, the vast mercy of God quickly adorned the new monastery with the gifts of His grace, ennobling it with good and devout men, making it no less great in possessions than renowned in virtue. Indeed, in his days it was greatly celebrated in renown, most outstanding in religion.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HIS CONDUCT IN THE MONASTERY
So as to declare that to which all things pertain: within the monastery Dom Theotonius grew, in a marvelous manner, to the summit of sanctity. Lest such a great man, who is in every way to be imitated, remain hidden, I shall briefly touch upon a few among his many saintly deeds. In setting them forth I add nothing, nor do I exaggerate in anything, following the custom of those who fashion praises, as though I wanted to win the favor of men. Rather, I give thanks that in our time we merited to have such a father. We do have him, in fact, for to God all things live (Lk 20:38), and as blessed Jerome says, everything that is brought to God is counted in the number of the family.
And so from the outset he began to outstrip the rest in great merits of life, gravity of life, singularity of abstinence, and the virtue of continual prayer, for he frequently used to entreat God with his prayers. Now, if sometimes he would cease to pray, sacred reading would never leave his hands. He dedicated himself especially to the Psalms. Every day, apart from the canonical hours of the Divine Office, which he would execute in a fitting manner with godly fear and veneration, he would go through the entire psalter, and afterwards would occupy himself with other exercises of good works or with whatever tasks were useful for the monastery. He never gave himself to the seductions of vice or the vanities of the world, but meekness, silence, and peace were always hidden in that heart. Finally, contrary to the custom of our time, he lowered himself so greatly in humility that he clearly desired to be the least of all and the last of the servants of God. Moreover, so great was his zeal for the canonical institution that he pursued it through all the world as though the Order itself were fleeing from him. On this account he sent emissaries to Compostela, and more frequently over the mountains to the Monastery of St. Rufus (in Avignon) because he knew for certain that in this respect it surpassed all the others.
In the community the godly man would live with such temperance and good measure that neither in his character, nor in his deeds, nor even in his gait could anything blameworthy be seen. He was, then, so exemplary in the discharge of his office that neither murmurer nor slanderer could mark in him anything, whether seen in anticipation or in retrospect, which was not according to the rule. Many praise in him his constant employment in useful activities and even more his virtues. Some praise in him the humility which is the first of the Christian virtues, others the sanctity, innocence, austerity, religion, and ardor of faith which all made their home in him. I will praise still more the fact of his being always united to his brothers by the bond of charity, as though he were in very truth their brother. He did not think of treating them as though they were his, but as the flock of the Lord. He served all through the office of charity. If it were necessary to do some thing, he was not wont to order, but would point it out with all humility and reverence. For his part he would outdo them in showing reverence, kindness, and honor. He would not demand the highest place. He would never imperiously command. He would always govern without pride. He would never rashly rebuke a brother. If he saw someone doing wrong or acting in an unworthy manner, or given to vain conversation, through zeal of rectitude he would both show them their error and correct it. At times he would correct them so severely as to strike terror in the others, principally the young, so as to prevent their attempting any like deed and to encourage them, rather, to improve their lives. Beforehand, though, as I have said, he would warn them secretly, with the kindly affection of a father and give them correction. So then, with the canonical censure he would rebuke the disobedient and would incite the obedient to better things. If, by chance, he knew that someone had become agitated he used to befriend them with very mild words, in accordance with the Gospel, recalling frequently that word of the Apostle, "Do not let the sun set on your wrath". (Eph 4:26) For if the necessity of disciplining someone to bring them to change their ways obliged him to speak hard words, later, before the setting of the sun, he used to make peace with that brother with fraternal piety. In this way he instructed all with the example of his life.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HIS TEACHING AS PRIOR
But, like a good preacher in the camp of the Lord, he did not cease to instruct them, with the oil of exhortation and of edification, in the art of good living. He urged those who had abandoned the ranks of the world to walk the straight path of Christ and not dishonor the gift of religion, which was divinely granted them, with their vices and base thoughts, but rather to adorn it with humility, sobriety, and the other ornaments of the holy virtues. He urged them to pray to God for their sins and those of the people and to execute with all devotion and veneration the work of the divine service so that, having a good conscience before God and a good reputation before men, they might faithfully serve the Lord in Whose honor they had come together in community. He urged each one to attend to his duty to the praise and glory of the name of God and the welfare of his neighbor so that, according to the words of the Apostle, all might serve as members, one of the other (Rm 12:5). He urged them to strive to be true paupers of Christ and so become partakers of true beatitude; he urged all to give witness of religion to everyone, inviolably keeping peace and concord and so persevere to the end in their holy purpose.
Also, I remember it perfectly, he used many times to adapt his discourse, as one who speaks to the very young, saying, "Behold, little children! It is necessary to afflict the body which in the world gave itself over to many vain things. It is necessary to restrain the tongue, which at all times is prone to sin except it be diligently guarded." And he used to add that because Dives had served loquacity his tongue burnt all the more when he found himself in hell (Lk 16:24). He would also recall the saying, "Death and life are in the hands of the tongue." He would frequently recall that laughter will be repaid with tears, so that, as he would say, we might laugh on the last day. Furthermore, so that we might refrain both our hearing and tongue from idle speech and thus avoid envy, falsehood, detraction, pride, hatred, and anger against our neighbor, he would frequently warn us that according to Solomon, laughter will be mixed with sorrow (Prov 14:13).
For each of these sins he used to adduce examples from divine authority, saying, "For it was through envy of the devil that death entered the world" (Wis 2:24). And, "The mouth that lies kills the soul" (Prov 18:7). And, "He who hates his brother will be uprooted" (Prov 14:21). And, "God resists the proud, but to the humble He gives His graces" (Prov 3:34, Jas 4:6, 1 Pet 5:5). And, "He who hates his brother is a murderer and dwells in darkness." (1 Jn 2:11; 3:15) Again he would say that by means of hatred is lost that usefulness and happiness of which blessed David says, "How good and how pleasing it is when brothers dwell in unity." (Ps 132:1) And, it is through hatred that Christ is banished, He Who is the true Wisdom, "For in the malevolent soul, wisdom will not enter" (Wis 1:4).
Besides this he used to threaten them with the terror of the coming Judgment and set before them the sweetness of the Heavenly Kingdom. Thus he would constrain them, by every means, that they correct their lives, that their speech be chaste, their gait noble, their appearance humble, their tongue affable, their mind full of love and their hands full of activity. With these and other similar exhortations the spiritual father used to fortify the minds of his subjects and make them ever more ready and devoted in chanting the divine praises and in observing their rule. All these words were proffered, not with grandiloquence, but in simple speech, so to say, with a holy simplicity which is at times more efficacious than worldly philosophy and more necessary for the edification of the brothers.
And it was not only in spiritual matters that he would guard such outstanding zeal, but also in temporal ones he would diligently furnish the brothers with earthly assistance and proofs of his solicitude and providence, with charity and in a timely manner. To sum up the matter briefly, he would tend the flock of the Lord in such a way with manifold solicitude - that is, he would supply the family of Christ with spiritual food as well as temporal - in such a manner that in all things he appeared like that faithful and prudent servant in the Gospel, whom the Lord assigned to take care of His household (Lk 12:42).
To what purpose would I recount the pious consideration with which he used to instruct the brothers to help and diligently to honor the old and weak in accordance with their lack of strength and by giving such instruction did himself help and honor them? The children and youths who were brought up in the congregation he would cherish with consummate tenderness, rebuke without insult, and punish without cruelty. He would watch over these with such artful industry and in such a way encircle them with the ecclesiastical discipline that their frolicsome age did not find any room to burst forth in the crime of sin.
Why should I recount his clemency and diligence toward the sick, whom he would cheer with wondrous favors and services; whom he would raise up with the grace of his visit and with the sweetness of his countenance, to whom he would, above all, apply a vigilant care and would serve as though they were Christ Himself? Indeed with great respect he ordered that they be administered, faithfully and diligently, everything that was necessary for the treatment of the various illnesses. And he was accustomed frequently to say to the brothers, "Little children, such things are to be borne because on their account we shall undoubtedly gain a heavenly reward."
He did not make exception of persons, but had pious and necessary consideration for the sick. While he would generously give everything to the others who were sick, if he himself sometimes fell ill, he would not use indulgence with himself; he did not desire delicate or rare foods, nor things nicely or sumptuously prepared, but, despising with great constancy the delicacies and luxury of food, he would take merely - a thing which we witnessed many times - cooked onions with salt, or altogether moderate and frugal nourishment.
But why must I recount how he conducted himself when he was sick, for even when healthy he always showed an admirable and inimitable frugality in his use of food. Never did he surpass the bounds of temperance against decency or beyond necessity; never did he forget his discipline, nor integrity, he always ate from the common food in the refectory with the brothers. He would eat less than anyone else, for his natural goodness and the rigor of his discipline completely extinguished in him heedless gluttony. He never wished to go to the infirmary however much the brothers besought him with great insistence. He was never bled, nor accepted any potion, however mild it might be. In this point he showed himself unequaled, for the clemency that he exercised with everyone else - the healthy, the sick, the aged - he turned into harshness for himself In this matter he was very adamant, and would not spare himself, nor yield to the protestations of others.
The extent of his compassionate affection for the unfortunate and of his mercy can be seen from the following incident. When Afonso, the noble Infante of Portugal, led his army to the distant part of Spain, those parts surrounding the great city called Seville, and sacked almost the entire province of the Saracens, his soldiers in the midst of a vast plunder took captive as well a certain race of Christians whom the common folk are accustomed to call "Mozarabs", and who were detained there under the jurisdiction of the pagans, but who in a certain way observe the Christian rite. According to the rules of war they subjected them to slavery. As soon as he heard this the godly man was moved with deep compassion and he, who never departed from the cloister so far as to go to the outer door of the monastery, burning in the zeal of faith, went out to meet the King and the whole army and said, "O King and all noble men who are sons of Holy Mother Church, do you subject your brothers to the condition of slaves and servant girls? By doing this you sin against the Lord your God!" After hearing his lengthy speech - it was a matter of duty for the holy Prior - and because the great wrath of God would hang over them if they did not let the Mozarabs go free, the King and all the soldiers released all that race of men and permitted them to go forth in his presence.
So as not to appear superfluous, I pass over the honorable welcome he received from the noble general and his great men who came also to meet him. Indeed as he dismounted they likewise came down from their horses and they humbly kissed his hand and willingly promised that which he besought of them. And so, due to his zeal, more than a thousand men, not counting their wives and children, were freed from slavery. The saint gave to those among these people who desired to dwell in Coimbra a place to dwell near the monastery, and for many years fed them from the produce of the same, for they were a weak people and ignorant of the laws of the land.
He founded, within the monastery, a hospice to receive pilgrims and sick, wherein, with the religious, he served in humble kindness.
CHAPTER TEN
THE GRACE OF HEALING
We came to see clearly that he possessed the grace of healing on account of the many cures of diverse sicknesses he performed and by the benefits which we experienced from him. Furthermore, on a certain occasion the aforementioned Infante of Portugal burned with an intense fever and began to be very hard pressed. Being plunged in anguish on account of the great strength of the fever he began calling out, no longer in a loud voice, but in screams, that his soul was going forth. At last he anxiously besought the visitation of the man of God as the only remedy. This one anointed him with the oil of divine exhortation and mercifully touched him with his right hand. Immediately, as by a miracle, the burning began to grow cold, little by little, and the Infante received the coolness of health. So great was the divine strength that he received in the presence of Dom Theotonius that later in the same hour he could take without harm the food which he had lacked for many days.
Besides this, when through his unvanquished valor in military encounters, and equally through his illustrious nobility, Afonso was worthily hailed as king, his wife, the Queen Mafalda, daughter of Count Amadeu, came to be in danger of death due to the hardship of childbirth. As she was a wise woman and founded in the firmness of the faith, she found, after God, only this solution: that if she could merit the blessing of the holy man, the medicine of the Almighty would immediately assist her. When, therefore, the nobles summoned him he came to her. As soon as he traced the sign of the Cross and blessed her in the strength of God, she immediately gave birth to a son at his feet and then, transformed into a happy mother by the successful birth of her child, was miraculously restored to health.
Nevertheless, he sometimes suffered grave persecutions from her for his having denied her entrance into the cloister, observing in all things the rigor of the rule. A certain day, the Queen came to visit and sought by every means to see the inside of the cloister. The Prior resisted her gently, saying that there was another Queen within and that it was not proper to the Order nor to the accepted customs that a woman should enter into the dwelling of those who forsake the world, unless she be dead, nor was it becoming of the queen, for such a thing would not be counted to her glory by the Lord God. He proposed to her the example of King Uzziah who, for this same thing -having sought to enter into the Temple of the Lord and offer the incense - was immediately struck with leprosy and remained leprous to the day of his death (2 Chron 26:16-21). In the end, such was the zeal which he had for the Rule that with the vigor and authority of the Holy Spirit he fearlessly withstood the presumption of the Queen. That most holy man preferred to incur the hatred of this raging woman than once allow such a violation of the cloister. By this deed he left for us as an inheritance the rule of an upright life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HIS POWER OVER THE DEVILS
So great was his sanctity and so evident that even the evil spirits at times visibly feared him. I will recount a marvelous fact, but nevertheless true. A certain English monk named Samuel came with the French Armada which, together with the King of Portugal, took the city of Lisbon by the gift of God. He was attacked by a bodily illness and brought to this monastery of Coimbra of the man of God. He came to the extreme of seeing very black and terrible spirits casting darts in him, cruelly and without cease, and violently threatening him. Plunged into fear by this gruesome image, he would turn himself from one side to the other. Many times he would fall wild-eyed from his bed without the power to endure the sight, so he would say in an anguished voice to those present. These, for their part, were unable to see the evil spirits, but recognized their presence in the pallor and tremors of the afflicted man. When, however, in his goodness, the most holy man came to meet him, at once the evil spirits hid themselves and, disappearing into thin air, they were nowhere to be found, according to the testimony of the monk. Thus it is evident that the demons feared the presence of Dom Theotonius.
Many times, citing the example of this monk, the man of God would exhort us with the pious affection of a father to perseverance in our vocation and in the bonds of obedience. For he used say, "If this monk, who came with the permission of his abbot (for he had with him, in any case, letters of recommendation) was in such a manner banished from the abode of his flesh, what will happen to those who, giving their hand to frivolity and mobility of the spirit, are divided by quarrels and scandals, and through disobedience withdraw from their monastery? Be careful, therefore, my little children! Do not despise the yoke of the Lord, which is easy and light (Mt 11:29); do not cast off the bonds of Christ. For the devil prowls about seeking someone to devour (1 Pet 5:8), and he miserably torments and destroys the one who through disobedience flees his congregation."
A lay-brother of the monastery was afflicted with a like punishment, for he would see continually and without interruption the phantom of a very black Ethiopian who, with arched bow, would forcefully shoot him with arrows. With unruly cries he would speak of his enemy on the opposing wall and would point to him with his finger. The brothers, however, were not in the least able to see him. The poor wretch was tormented more by fear than by his illness. As often, however, as the saint came to him, the devil would immediately store his bow and hide himself, not daring to shoot darts in his presence. Knowing this, the man of God, as one who recognized the reason why the man suffered so horrible a chastisement, said to him, "Confess, poor man, confess the evil of adultery into which you have fallen." Later the matter became clearly manifest and was as the Prior had said.
There was also in the monastery a deeply devoted brother whom the enemy of the human race was accustomed to torment at the beginning of his conversion. It happened one day, that as our spiritual father was seated, on account of his infirmity, in the church outside the choir, and perceived that the said brother, who happened to be near at hand, was being tormented by the enemy (for he had not yet seen him suffering), he at once faithfully took the brother's right hand and threatened the wicked spirit, saying to him, "Begone, unclean spirit. In the Name of Jesus Christ, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I command you to afflict this servant of God no more." The ancient enemy went out immediately and from that hour dared no more to try the servant of God. Many times we saw various sick brothers promptly restored to health while he was kneeling and praying for them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AN ANECDOTE ON THE POWER OF HIS PRAYERS
Do you seek to know the solicitude he had for those who were going on journeys, or the worth of his prayers before Almighty God? There had been reason for the priest Honorio, one of the leaders among the eldest, of whom mention was made above, to be sent to Lisbon, bringing with him the sum of six hundred solidi for the construction of the church of the martyr Saint Vincent, which lies outside the walls of the same city, in accordance with the order of the King. In the waste which lies between Coimbra and Santarem he was seized by Saracen thieves and taken captive to the city of Elvas. So it was that the hateful news and the painful report shook all the brothers of the monastery. Throughout the city, as well, there was no small grief the saint, who grieved the most and showed forth the sorrow of his heart on account of this misfortune, diligently addressed the brothers, telling them to be solicitous for their companion and to suffer together with him in accordance with the word of the Apostle, "When one member suffers, the rest ought also to suffer with him" (1 Cor 12:26). He told them also that they should, with faith, make petition in their prayers to the One Who said to His disciples, "Whatever you ask for with faith in your hearts you will receive" (Mt 21:22). They were aware that God would hear their petitions if they persevered in prayer in His presence. They remembered as well the Apostles of Christ, who, praying with holy petitions in their conclave, merited to snatch the Prince of the Apostles from Herod's prisons and the designs of the Jewish people (Acts 12:5).
Giving heed to this exhortation, all the brothers remained in the presence of the Lord. They entreated God with both public and private petitions. For his part, the Prior, besides persevering in devout prayers and petitions to God, which would be very long to expound, prayed most fervently with all his heart that those who had been so grieved by the captivity of the elder might, through the mercy of the Redeemer, merit to be consoled by his liberation. While all this was taking place in the monastery, behold, in a marvelous way and beyond all hopes, the elder, on the fifteenth day of his captivity, appeared in health, free and at large, with great glory, without detriment or diminution of the patrimony, having also the same number of solidi, and even twelve captives who had been entrusted to his fidelity.
I pass over the manner through which the Almighty freed him from captivity by means of a certain pagan's salutary fraud so as not to lengthen the extent of this book and, above all, because it is divulged among all the people. Now, however, the great merit of this man, whose solicitude was so pious and whose prayer was so powerful with God, should be clear to you.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HIS CONDUCT AS PRIOR, HIS TREATMENT OF THOSE IN THE WORLD, AND HIS FRIENDSHIP WITH THE KING
He had the practice of not admitting more brothers to the congregation than reason would permit or the means of the monastery could support. Yet he would vigilantly take care to provide those whom he received with consolations of body and soul. He would imitate the procedure of a most wise doctor, that is to say he would employ a treatment with great discernment, applying with diligence that which was fitting to each one or that which was agreeable to them.
In correction of character, above all, he would take careful thought so as to apply the curative medicine in conformity with the quantity of wounds and in such a way as not to give to one what was harmful to him nor take away from another what was beneficial. He was, thus, always clement and kindly to the humble.
It ought not be passed over in silence that it was always his habit and approved custom not to desire in any way the visits and frequentings of worldly men who wished to see him on account of his renown. Rarely would he tolerate such visits. Indeed his holiness was so evident and so renown that not only those of a lower class, but also the King, princes, and the powerful who merited to see him used to kneel at his feet, humbly kiss his hand and, with great confidence, ask his blessing. Though he did not desire the company of the rich or powerful, if, at times, he found himself in their presence, by force of circumstances of time and place, he would season them with the salt of wisdom. If they were poor men he would provide for them; if they were rich he counseled them to do well. He would urge them all to hold fast to the true faith, reject their depravities, fear the Lord always, and to be content with their wages. He would urge them to renounce the vanity of vice and the world, and offer to God a pure life lest their works be found unworthy in His sight. With such words and others like them he would strengthen and renew their souls.
God had granted him such grace that whoever saw his person or heard the speech of his mouth rejoiced almost as though they had seen an angel of God, and they showed him corresponding veneration. His voice was sweet and gentle, brought forth softly, without clamor or shrillness. As much as it was pleasing to the souls of his listeners, so little was it hard or disagreeable to the ear. He would always use words that were few and reasonable and at the same time friendly. Whence his conversation always found favor with all, according to that word of Solomon, "The sweet word multiplies friends and softens enemies, and the elegant and gracious tongue abounds in the good man" (Sir 6:5). His face was temperate and so moderate in expression that it never became harsh with boldness nor undid itself in unmanly ways, but had a rigorous sweetness and a sweet rigor. Never did an improper blush deform the beauty of his face. The modesty of all his body was such that never did he move his limbs in a disordered or turbulent fashion, nor diminish the tranquillity of his speech. The tranquillity of his soul was such, and so much had the love of goodness grown in him, and in such a fashion had all shadow of malice been purged, that the saying will be rightly believed of him: "Great peace have those who love your law" (Ps 118:165). What need to say more? He led on earth the life of heaven.
Consequently, because of his great sanctity, the King and his nobles and all the people of either sex judged that the monastery of Coimbra was worthy of highest honor and reverence and they endowed it with the greatest offerings and enriched it with temporal goods in such a way that, in a wondrous manner, it surpassed virtually all the congregations of this Order in Spain. Thus the King made a present to the monastery of a great part of his wealth, both furnishings and properties; enriching the site he confirmed all the goods of the monastery within and without, and by confirming protected them.
In truth the King loved Dom Theotonius above all the crowned heads and placed more confidence in him than in any other man and wholeheartedly commended to him his soul and all that was his. The most blessed Dom Theotonius, for his part, loved the King above all men of the kingdom. And therefore, with paternal affection, he frequently used to correct him and admonish him. He would exhort him to fear the One by Whom rulers rule (Prov 8:15) and in Whose power are all the rights of kings and other mighty men, and to observe God's commandments, because for this all men exist. He instructed him to administer with equity the kingdom entrusted to him and to preserve justice inviolate. He warned him that as a secular judge he must not lay hand on an ecclesiastical person, nor take it upon himself to examine ecclesiastical affairs. He told him that he must not permit the holy places to be violated, nor in a disorderly fashion attempt to do violence to those who sought refuge in them, even though they be guilty and condemned for their crimes. He admonished him never to condemn anyone unjustly, saying that it was necessary for a king to maintain justice, truth, faith, good works, and reverence for the holy places. Otherwise, he used to say, in nothing would a king differ from a prince of thieves. In his plain manner of speaking he threatened him with hard labor should he rashly presume to commit any of these deeds. When the King asked him what hard labor, he replied, giving his own interpretation, that it would be Gehenna, where the mighty are mightily tormented (Wis 6:7) and all evil doers burn in the perpetual fire.
The man of God's great solicitude for the King and the King's great confidence in him can be seen even from that one miracle of Santarem alone. When the King wanted to attack this city with a new sort of combat, that is, by stealth and by a sort of thievery (for with other instruments of war nothing could be done due to the situation of the place, its extreme fertility, and its numerous population) he went to see the man of God and to him alone he revealed his plan and commended his soul like one about to depart from this world. He indicated to him under silence, the day in which he thought to realize his plan; he asked him with insistence that on that day he offer prayer for him in union with the brothers and with that he set out. On the assigned day, the Prior expounded the matter in chapter to all the brothers. He ordered litanies to be prayed barefoot, asking that they offer prayers public and private. The Prior, for his part, beside the many prayers that he offered to God with unceasing application, prayed thus:
Lord, Lord Almighty, who made Jericho's walls to tumble with neither shot of bow nor stroke of sword, and even commanded the sun to stand still at Joshua's prayer against Gibeon. We implore your ineffable clemency. Deign propitiously to grant to our King and your servant, under whose shadow we live, by your protection, victory over a city most hostile to the Christian people, that the most foul and impious rite of Mohammed may be banished therefrom, and that there Your name may be praised, O Lord God.
Later, on the following day, behold a good messenger of the messengers of the Lord arrived with the good news. He joyfully announced that the city was taken and had submitted to the power of the King, for the King had seized it miraculously at midnight, that is on the night following the assigned day, when these things took place in the monastery.
Every time that the King was about to undertake some great feat he always came to see the man of God and commended himself and his soul to his prayers with great diligence. So he did when on the field of Ourique he defeated five Kings of the pagans with their innumerable multitude of barbarians, who had gathered from both sides of the sea to put an end to him once and for all. And he conquered them with the help of God and the protection of St. James, whose solemnity, it is said, fell on that day. And also when, with a French naval force, he took Lisbon, and not less when in a prolonged struggle he defeated Alcacer. But what need to give an account of each of his victories?
Dom Theotonius, for his part, had such a tender love for the King that he appeared to be more solicitous for the King than for his very self. And so, on a certain occasion when there spread a false rumor that the King had departed from this world (as the saint used to tell us, and it was true) he was pierced with so grave a pain in his heart, as though by a poisoned arrow, that from that time onward, he was always sickly and weak in body. Nevertheless none of the healthy and vigorous young men could compare with him in the service of God.
I have tarried long, as though among the shoals, in order to show how he loved the King with a sincere love and how the King had great confidence in him to whom, after God, he commended his soul so many times. He would never have done this had he not believed him to be a just and holy man.
All the princes and faithful of both states had a like trust in Dom Theotonius and so would bow before him and do him reverence. I saw many people, principally from the kingdom of France, kneel at his feet and kiss his hand with great devotion, and, in the ardor of their faith, pass it over their eyes and face as though it were a remedy for their salvation. The man of God burned with charity for all as if he were the common father of the whole people. He never despised anyone with disdain, even though they were haughty.
Who ever heard something displeasing of this man so as to believe it? And who believed so as not rather to convict himself of ill will and infamy? He placed himself in such a citadel of humility that he did not even wish ever to have the name of abbot. Whence to this day this monastery finds itself designated as a priory. He kept himself always in the recesses of the inner cloister such that he never set foot in public, except on those occasions I mentioned above.
Why do I delay? He passed his life in the monastery and lived in such a way and so well that the good will always find him worthy of praise, the wicked will be unable to censure him, the religious will find him worthy of imitation, and the priests will take him as a model. I have said scarcely a few things among many. Who could recount the great devotion of his faith, the beauty of his deeds and customs, and his celebration of the divine liturgy? Or in what way, guarding his profession with a pure diligence and a firm perseverance, he ruled, in the fear of the Lord, the congregation that was confided to him for more than twenty years? He was, at the same time, less attentive to the constructions and new buildings, careful not to ensnare his soul in them. He always wished to be free for spiritual things, like that most religious Mary who sat at the feet of the Lord and listened with attention to His words. It was in these that he was always taken up and occupied.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HE STEPS DOWN AS PRIOR; HIS LAST YEARS
The time has now arrived, I deem, to recount the saintly manner in which the man of God, while still alive, set aside the privilege of honor and so I will come to tell of the end he had.
Twenty one years after his entrance into the monastery he began to contract a prolonged illness of the body. Whence, as a good shepherd and director of souls who cares deeply for the whole flock, according indeed to the will of God, as we believe, he chose for us, in the general chapter, a prior, Dom John Theotonius, a man discreet, prudent, sober, kind, and adorned with every kind of virtue, who by name and by merits was his successor and spiritual son. With a kindly intention and with the applause of all the brothers, Dom Theotonius entrusted him with the governance of the monastery. For almost ten years after this the two lived together in such peace and concord that every day, even more, in each hour and almost at every moment, they used to anticipate each other with the sweetness of their blessing and the sign of the Holy Cross.
Every day Dom Theotonius was wont to give his blessings and absolution to the other brothers, and like another Job he offered holocausts for each one. He would call them individually by their names, "Friends of God", judging them to be such in the purity of his soul. On account of the humility he had received from God he was careful each day to commend himself to the prayers of each one.
After he had freed himself from the pastoral office, he applied his soul entirely to contemplation, as though he had been freed from a great debt. He remained ever in prayer and compunction, shedding tears on account of the misery of this world and his longing for the Heavenly Jerusalem, of which he spoke frequently, relating how it was peopled with Angels and Archangels, and adorned with the Patriarchs, Prophets, and Apostles. There, he used to say, the faithful are as living stones fitted together by the mortar of charity and love. And he would add, "In that place there is to be found no one who is unhappy, none hungry, and none thirsty, for there the Living and Eternal Well-spring quenches the thirst of all." Consequently, many times taken up in his love he would say amid the excesses of delight, "I rejoiced when I heard them say, let us go to the house of the Lord" (Ps 121:1). For, although he was locked within the confines of the cloister, he already enjoyed vast expanses of Paradise.
And so he no longer felt hunger, for he was filled with our Lord Jesus Christ. But still, giving thanks, he would take some nourishment, though he did this not for the pleasure of taste, but to satisfy the human condition. Nor did he eat before the times prescribed. And when we were at meals, he, according to his custom, would always speedily slip away, almost without being noticed, to the doors of the chapel, that he might pray more freely in that place. He maintained his solitude like a true hermit. He was ever at his place praying, lamenting, and sorrowing.
Yet when one of us appeared before him, he would speak cheerfully, his countenance full of merriment, although in his spirit he remained united to God. Christ was ever on his lips, or the examples of the holy Fathers; he was always filled with peace and the gentleness of charity. Further, he would always, as I have said, recall most sweetly the Heavenly Jerusalem, saying uninterruptedly, "Lord, I love the house where You dwell, the place where Your glory abides" (PS 25:8). And, "How lovely is Your dwelling place, Lord God of hosts. My soul is longing and yearning for the courts of the Lord" (Ps 83:2-3). And, "They are happy who dwell in Your house, O Lord, forever singing Your praise" (Ps 83:5).
He used to support his aged limbs with that shepherd's staff which the man of God, Blessed Bernard - the first abbot of Clairvaux in the regions of Burgundy - had sent to him as a present by means of his monks when he heard of his sanctity. With this staff he often used to touch his aching parts. Already from this time, between the monastery of Clairvaux and ours of the Holy Cross in Coimbra, there was established the bond and contract of fraternal love and spiritual union; both were associated and confirmed in writing to enjoy and to have a part in all good works and prayers, such that in each monastery there was held every year, with greatest devotion, a common service for the benefit of both Orders.
Many people knew things of the man of God when he was still living in the flesh by means of visions. A certain very old man of good reputation was taken up in ecstasy for the space of three days and found himself, by means of a vision, in Heaven. There he also saw some whom he knew were still in earthly life and a few who already had died, assisting at the tribunal of Christ, giving praise to God. He beheld Dom Theotonius, however, to be higher than all these, closer to God, and clothed in incomparable radiance. And this same Father Theotonius, while adoring God, received from Him greater glory than the others. The aged man, when he finally came back to this world, narrated what he saw to the wonderment of many.
I will also relate, briefly, how he was seen by a religious of the Order of Clairvaux, although there was a great distance between them, not of fields, but of whole provinces. He was seen by him, I say, in a most beautiful land in the middle of the sea with not a small multitude of people dressed in white. He was at the head of them all and maintaining all of them in order. As a good charioteer he ruled them without wearying and was in every way vigilant for the defense of the fortress wall which fully encircled the land on all sides, lest it be broken at any point by the most ferocious waves of the sea. Now it happened later that the monk came to the monastery of Coimbra and, without anyone pointing him out, he immediately recognized Father Theotonius whom in his dreams he had seen amid the sea.
About this vision, what can be understood to be more evident, more manifest, or more appropriate than that which the man of God - the monk - took as his interpretation? "The land," he said, "is the cloister of the monastery, the sea is the world or the city of Coimbra amid which lies its monastery. In the land of the Lord's flock, Father Theotonius fights with the practice of good works against the salty and most bitter waves of the raging world, and, in the midst of the assault of scandals, he guards and rules well the flock entrusted to him, so that in the future he might receive into his princedom each one of those whom he had sent forward to God from the sea of this life."
I pass over many notable occurrences of this nature regarding the man of God, which were signs of his merits to people of both sexes, lest these things appear to be phantoms and fables to the envious and those who are incredulous of all that is good. But, to comprehend an infinity of things in a brief compass, if someone desires to know how he passed his life in the monastery, let him know that he always persevered in divine things and in holy meditations until the day on which he fell asleep in the Lord, which came to happen in the following way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HIS DEPARTURE FROM THE WORLD
A few days before he entered upon the way of the Fathers, he beheld the following vision: he saw himself on a high tower which was in the midst of the cloister and higher than all the heights of the monastery; he saw also that he bore in his hand a very long and brilliant lance, which had no point. In front of him appeared a venerable man in shining raiment, who attested to having orders for him from the Lord and consoled him with a very mild voice, saying to him, "Man of God, you labor much and make your pilgrimage weighed down with the burden of the flesh. Have courage, for the day is near on which, in exchange for your brief labor, you will enjoy eternal blessedness. Indeed you fought well in this world and, without a sword, you conquered everything lawful. This is the meaning of the lance without a point. Give thanks, then, to the Bountiful Giver of all good things, because soon you will be healed and are to go up to your ancient possession after having completed your long pilgrimage. Know also that Almighty God did - and will do - much good to this place through you." He showed him, moreover, a ladder raised up to heaven on which those who departed from the congregation after being sufficiently purified would go up to Heaven. He said that there were also some in the monastery who still had to purify themselves on account of their being less perfect. After speaking these and many other words, and after saying that his name was that of the Apostle Peter, he went up to Heaven and disappeared.
Then the man of God, returning to himself and knowing with full certainty that he was approaching his end, received the Sacrament of Anointing and armed himself, as he did almost every day, full of trust, with the Body and Blood of Christ. Again and again he blessed and absolved us. And he admonished us, as the very children of his loins, not to lose the work of so much time. "My children," he said, "think as though you embraced the religious life and state this very day." As all the brothers were gathered about him filled with grief, he consoled the mournful assembly.
But why do I delay and fear to come to his end, thus prolonging my sorrow? As he gave us his abundant blessing, on the seventh day from Saturday, after the Matins of the Old, he joyfully beheld the approach of death. We saw him rise up for the encounter with a joyful countenance. So it was that we did not doubt, on account of the joy of his smiling countenance, that the holy angels were there present. His face did not grow pallid, but filled with a dignity and gravity that made us clearly understand that he was not dying, but going away; changing his friends, as it were, but not forsaking them.
At his passing away the whole city showed the admiration which it had for him during his life, for they all commended their souls to him; they all rejoiced with him in the glory of his beatitude; they took courage in his glory and rejoiced on account of one whose life made glad the angels of heaven; with one voice they declared that his happy and blessed soul had passed on to the heavens. The King was taken by such a great grief that his face lost its color. It is told that he said, "His soul will be in Heaven before his body is in the tomb."
By no means must I neglect to say that when that holy soul was loosed from the flesh, the enemy of the human race was present there, but because he found nothing of his own works in the man's soul, he promptly cast himself, howling and snorting, upon a member of the monastic household, and tormented him miserably for nearly half an hour. Afterward he retired in confusion, giving to all a sign that the blessed soul of my lord had freely gone up to Heaven.
But before he left this world, an immense globe of stars was seen descending from Heaven upon the midst of the cloister. It was so resplendent with heavenly light, and so brilliant, shooting forth its rays in every direction, that it excited great wonder in all.
But now let me come to an end, for this little book should already have been brought to a close. After all was duly executed which seemed necessary for the exequies of the deceased, he was transferred to the church, according to custom, by the hands of the brothers, amid lamentation and sorrow. Once there, it was not wailing and weeping that were heard, as is the case with those who are worldly, but for the two days that followed the ardent zeal of the brothers was devoutly displayed in the choir. They surrounded the body with prayers, psalms, hymns, and spiritual canticles. (Col 3:16) Then he was honorably entombed in the chapter room by the reverend Dom Miguel, Bishop of Coimbra and Canon of the Holy Cross. The brothers stood in a circle performing with great diligence the due religious offices.
He fell asleep with the conscience of a good life and with the rewards of merit on the twelfth day before the calends of March, Friday, at the first hour of the day, the hour in which Christ rose. He was entombed on the eleventh day before the calends of the same month, in the fifty sixth year of the life of the said Dom Afonso I of Portugal, in whose time he received the habit of Christ, and in the thirty fifth year of his reign. He lived in the holy purpose thirty one years. He ended all the time of his life, as he himself used to say, between seventy and eighty, as the Scriptures ordain. (Ps 89:10)
Written by an Anonymous Disciple
(This biography was written shortly after the death of Dom Theotonius, indeed, during the first year, for the author makes no mention of the fact that St. Theotonius was canonized on the first anniversary of his death in 1163.)