On Judgement: Letter to Publius –St. Ephraim the Syrian
Notice the twelve thrones that are fashioned on it for judgment
Notice how the tribes stand there trembling and how the many nation stand there quaking
Notice how their bodies share and their knees knock.
Notice how their hearts palpitate and how their minds pine.
Notice how their faces are downcast and how their shame is thick upon them like darkness.
Notice how their should anguish and how their spirits flicker.
Notice how their tears overflow and soak the dust beneath them.
Notice how their complexions are changing to green. One takes on that color and hands it on to his companion.
Notice their faces, which used to be joyful, have been transformed to look like soot from a cauldron.
Hear their many groans and their wailing moans.
Hear their sigs of grief and their churning innards.
Notice their deeds:
those that were in secret have now become manifest;
those that were done in darkness now shine forth like the sun;
those that they had committed in secret now make their complaint with load voice.
Notice now everyone stands, his deeds before him justly accusing him in the presence of his judge.
Notice how their evil thoughts have now taken on shape and stand before their masters to accuse them.
Notice their slanderous whisperings crying out in a loud voice, and how the snares once hidden are now revealed before them.
Notice that Judge of righteousness as he s
the wisdom of His nature
the arm of His glory
the right hand of His mercy,
the ray of His light
the manifestation of His rest,
that one who is equal in essence with the one who begot Him,
that one whose nature is commensurate with the nature from which He sprang forth,
that one who is at once near and far from Him,
that one who is at once joined with Him and separated from him
in His presence and not at a distance,
at his right hand and not far away,
who shares the same dwelling but not as a foreigner,
the gate of life
the way of truth
the propitaiatory lamb
the pure sacrifice
the priest who remits debts
the sprinking that purifies
the one who created all that was made
the one who formed and established,
the one who fashioned creatures,
the one who gives senses to the dust,
who clothes the earth with perception,
who gives movement to all flesh,
who separates the places of every species,
who differentiates faces without number,
who renews the minds of all races,
who sows all wisdom everywhere
who stretches out the heavens,
who adorned them with lights,
who gave names to them all
who spread out the earth on a foundation that cannot be touched,
who is the architect of the mountains
who built the high places
who commands the grasses
who causes trees to spring forth
who causes woodplants to give seed
who causes fruit to grow
who distinguishes tastes
who gives color to blossoms and shape to all flowers
who measures heaven with His span, with that power that cannot be measured.
who meted out in the palm of His hand the dust of the earth in that right hand which cannot be meted out,
who weighed the mountains on scales with a knowledge that cannot be comprehended
and the hills on a balance with unerring understanding
by which the gathering places of the seas that envelop all Creation and the depths of the sea that cannot be grasped by us are considered to be even less than a drop there before Him.