the great saint Sheshoy

The Great
SAINT SHESHOY


Abbot of the Monastery of Saint Anthony, Red Sea




Translated from the reference book:
"Les Saints d'Egypte",
by R.P. Paul Cheneau, Vol. II, Jerusalem 1923







Saint Sheshoy is one of the most pleasant figures of eremitic life. He lived in Scethe, in St. Anthony's mountain, and in Clysma*.

*Clysma was situated in the surroundings of Arsinoe, near the present Suez.

He came to the desert when he was still very young, and definitely gave himself to God. He went through all the different grades of monastic life, vanquishing the devil, under the management of the abbot Hor. When he reached the summit of humility, he received the gift of operating miracles, dismissed demons, healed the sick, commanded nature like a master, and even resuscitated the dead. The opinions which he determined to write for the sake of his brothers' comfort, are all marked with kindness, meekness and forbearance. He was famous for bringing back the delinquents to their duties. This was his specific characteristic. He left to God the care of judging people, and never sentenced anybody, while always being ready to find excuses. Therefore he attracted to himself all the desert, and bestowed counsels and revitalizing words, with an untiring zeal.

A monk was violently treated by one of his brothers who had insulted him. He went to Saint Sheshoy to complain, in the hope that he would convince him to share his quarrel:
The monk: "Father, I was seriously insulted; I want to avenge myself; it seems to me that I am right."
Saint Sheshoy: "No, my son, leave this to God."
The monk: "My father, I am sorry not to follow your advice in that; but I shall have no rest till I avenge myself."
Saint Sheshoy simply said: "Good, let us leave that and pray together."
Both of them kneeled down. Then, raising his eyes to heaven, the saint loudly shouted: "Lord, excuse my liberty of language: we have no more need of your care for us; because we ourselves intend to execute the punishments for the offenses which we encounter."
The vindictive brother exclaimed: "My father, please stop, and excuse me, I promise you that I shall not revenge."

One of his preferred disciples, the monk Abraham, had seen some brothers profiting of the weekly meetings of Saturday and Sunday, to offer themselves some small refreshments. These deeds had at least astonished him, and he said to his master:
"Father, if on a Saturday or a Sunday, at the weekly meeting, there is some brother who drinks three glasses of wine, would you not find this as something excessive?"
Saint Sheshoy replied:
"If it was not the devil that incited him to it, certainly that would not be excessive."

During his residence at the mountain of Saint Anthony, he remained for ten consecutive months without seeing any human face.*

*He used to submit himself to some punishments that were unheard of: Once, for the sake of conquering slumber, he suspended himself by the hands to a rock that was over a precipice? An angel came and disengaged him, severely forbidding him never to do it again. This strange refined procedure was then customary in some eremitic places.

Finally, one day when he was walking in the mountain, he met was a hunter of wild beasts who dwelt in Pharan*.

*Pharan, today Ouadi Faran, is a desert of the peninsula of Sinai, where the Jews stayed after their exodus from Egypt (Numbers 10:12). At the time of the persecutions, the lonely places of Pharan were inhabited by numerous hermits, who created everywhere fertile gardens, that produced vegetables and fruits.

He said to this stranger:
"Where do you come from, traveller?"
"From Pharan."
"And since when do you hunt in these mountains?"
"I have been on this mountains since eleven months, and you are the first human being whom I meet here."
When Saint Sheshoy heard these words, he asked his interlocutor the permission to leave, and when he was back in his place, he started to beat his chest saying to himself with a loud voice: "So! Poor Sheshoy, you thought that you had done something, and here you are surpassed by a simple secular man!"

A young monk curiously questioned him during a visit, in order to know if the devil was as keen against the old people in the monastic life, as against the new comers. The saint replied saying to him:
"Much more, because the hour of death is nearer for them."

Father Abraham, whom we mentioned upwards, had the experience of that. One day, in the presence of his master, he was so much violently attacked by Satan, that he fell down on the ground. Without waiting, Saint Sheshoy knelt down, raised his eyes towards heaven, and exclaimed:
"O Lord, I shall bother you with my prayers till he will be delivered."
At the same moment, Fr. Abraham stood up; the temptation had vanished.

The saint Abbot was himself very often bothered by the infernal visitor.
It is narrated that at the time of his stay in Clysma, he fell ill. He then had to stay in his cell where his faithful disciple cared for him. Suddenly, there was violent knocking of the door, and at the same time there were frightful noises. The dying man was not moved, and very quietly said to Fr. Abraham to shout at these foul noisy people:
"What do you want? It is Sheshoy who is in this cell, it is Sheshoy who is on this mat. Come in, if you have enough courage."
Fr. Abraham had not finished his words, when the diabolic group left away without waiting anymore.

A poor brother groaned saying:
"I have had the weakness of falling, what must I do? "
"Raise up confidently again, my son."
"But, father, this is a relapse."
"Oh! My son, raise up again once more."
"But if I fall down, till when must I raise up again?"
"Till the end, whether good or bad, which will be yours: for at that moment man enters into the way where death finds him."

Another questioned him while he was very embarrassed, saying:
"If the barbarians attack me during one of their incursions in the desert, and I resist them, is it lawful to kill them?"
"No, my son, but leave your destiny to God. When a trial, whatever it is, comes to us, we must say: It is because of our sins." When on the contrary, we receive some good thing, we must refer all the merit to God."

The abbot Saint Ammon* came from Raithu* to visit him at the cloister of Clysma.

*The abbot Saint Ammon is called Saint Ammon of El Tor, because he was born near this place.

*Raithu today is called El Tor, a small port of the peninsula of Sinai. It is the place that is called in the Scriptures "Elim". There were the twelve wells of water which are mentioned in the Holy Bible (Exodus 15:27).

He found him very sorry that he had quitted the desert for the sake of communal life. He said to him:
"Why this complaint, abbot. At your age, what could you have done in the desert?"
Saint Sheshoy looked mournfully at him and said:
"What are you saying to me, Ammon? In the desert would it not be sufficient for me to possess the freedom of the spirit?"

Some hermits wanted to know the feelings of the saint about the efficiency of penitence. Therefore they said to him:
"Father, let us suppose that some brother has committed a great error, must he make penitence for a year?"
Saint Sheshoy replied: "A year? I find this too severe."
"For six months then?"
"That is also too long."
"Let us say, during a lent."
"Forty days, that is too much, I think."
"Then, father, if some brother commits a sin, and it happens that the holy Liturgy is celebrated, do you think that he can participate in the Holy Communion right away?"
"As regards that, no; but it is enough for him to get ready for some days. I am confident in God and I firmly believe with all my soul that his sin will be entirely forgiven after three days of repentance."

We can say that the opinion of the saint was rather a little different from the general trend of the maxims of the desert fathers who expiated the errors of their youth by terribly mortifying themselves. In this, the language of the holy abbot was that of a predecessor.

Once, he saw among the innumerable visitors who besieged his place of recluse, three very old aged monks. Extraordinarily, the three of them were terrified by the apprehension of the other world. They had come to the mountain of Saint Anthony, in order to consult him as a seer. The first one said to him:
"Father, how then can I avoid that inextinguishable fire which I constantly have before my eyes?"
Saint Sheshoy kept silent. The second said:
"How is it possible to escape from that gnawing worm that does not die, and the gnashing of the teeth in the place of damnation?"
The saint did not answer by a single word. Then the third one said:
"I have always in mind the horror of that external darkness which nothing will dissipate; my soul is all tortured by these thoughts."
The abbot replied:
"As for me, I think of nothing from that kind, because God who is firstly merciful toward the sinner, will have, I think, mercy upon me."
Being thus driven away from their questions, the three good old men went out very sadly; but after a moment, the saint abbot recalled them and said:
"You are lucky, and I greatly envy your happiness, because if you always have the thought of the torture of hell in your mind, certainly you will never sin. How miserable I am! A heart that is harder than rock! I never have these salubrious ideas, therefore I am a very great sinner."
These thoughts greatly comforted the three veterans of the eremitic life who returned with joyful hearts.

The proverbial kindness of the saint abbot did not hinder him from sometimes submitting to frightful trials the souls who came to place themselves under his direction. An inhabitant of Thebes (Luxor) gives a famous example.
He came to the mount of Saint Anthony with the intention of following the monastic life. Saint Sheshoy questioned him:
"Did you possess any good in the world?"
"Father, I have absolutely nothing; my only good is a son whom I love with all my soul."
"Well! go back home then, throw your son in the river, and then return to become a monk."
That poor father, that new Father Abraham, went away, and was decided to obey the word of such a great servant of God. The latter left him till he was a little far away, in order to leave to him all the merit of obedience; then he sent to him one of his disciples who said to him:
"What are you going to do?"
"To throw my son in the water."
"But why?"
"The saint abbot ordered me to do that."
"Now, he orders you to do the contrary; I have run after you to tell you that."
The man from Thebes turned and came back toward Saint Sheshoy and had the joy of being admitted among the number of his disciples because of his perfect obedience.

Among the numerous miracles that had made him famous, the biographers of the Saint have preserved for us the miracle of the resurrection of a young man who had accompanied his father to the mount of Saint Anthony. The poor man had died on the way. With a faith that can stand any test, the brave man did not hesitate; he placed the corpse on his shoulders and ascended the mountain. He knocked at the door of the hermitage of the saint, placed the funereal burden on the ground and knelt down to receive the blessing of the man of God. Then he raised up and stepped aside without pronouncing a single word, leaving the soulless body of his son on the ground. The abbot, who ignored that he had a corpse before him, believed to be in the presence of a visitor who was thus prostrated out of respect. He then took his kindest tone and said to him:
"My son, raise up and go your way."
Immediately, the dead person, as compliant as a lamb, stood up and walked. The father of the young man, who was watching for the deeds and gestures of the Saint, when he saw the prodigy, stayed fixed in his place, out of stupor. Then he rushed into the hermitage, narrated his voyage in every small detail: the falling of his son, his death, and the confidence which God had placed in his heart that he will bring him back resuscitated. This narration saddened the humility of the happy abbot, who would not accomplish such a resounding miracle; but before the accomplished fact, he reconciled his profound modesty with the divine intervention, while beseeching his two visitors not to reveal anything about it before his own death.

He often inspired the esteem of his disciples with this beautiful virtue of humility. One of them who believed to have reached the ultimate degree of perfection, said to him one day:
"Father, I consider myself to be always in the holy presence of God."
The Saint replied:
"That is not enough, my son; it would be much more advantageous for you to consider yourself as being under all the creatures."
At the end of his life, he was compelled to retire to Clysma. Friendly visits comforted his last days. Saint Ammon of El Tor, Saint Pistus and other anchorites came to share his modest hermitage. It was there that he fell ill. One day while he was on bed, he heard some knocking on the door. Thinking well that it was the infernal enemy, he once more charged his disciple Father Abraham to go and shout to this diabolic visitor saying:
"On the mountain, or on a bed at Clysma, I am always Sheshoy, and I mock you."
Father Abraham ran to the door, and he found nobody.

Nevertheless, the hour of deliverance was coming to this good servant. He was weakened by all kinds of austerity. He was lying on a mat, and surrounded by a great number of brothers. Suddenly, his face lightened and became shining. Raising up himself a little, he exclaimed:
"Here comes the abbot Saint Anthony!"
Later on, the same splendor radiated his features, and he said:
"Here is the chorus of the prophets! Here are the apostles!" And he seemed to talk to splendid visions. Those who were surrounding him, questioned him saying:
"Father, with whom then are you talking?"
"With the angels; they have come to fetch me and I have asked them to leave me still on earth in order to repent."
"But, father, you need no more to repent."
"Truly saying, my children, it seems to me that I have not yet begun."
His face then became so dazzling that those who were present could not support the brilliancy. He said:
"Here is the Lord! He says to his ministers:
" Bring me the chosen receptacle of the desert."
While pronouncing these words, he gently fell back on the mat that he used as a bed, and rendered his last. He was 72 years old. It was the 4th of July 429.
Immediately after his death, a most sweet perfume filled all the place of his hermitage.