Early Life
John of Ephesus reports that Jacobus was born at Tela Mauzalat (Tell Mawzalto), otherwise called Constantina, a city of Osrhoene, 55 miles to the east of Edessa, near the close of the 5th century. His father, Theophilus Bar-Manu, was a priest in Tela Mauzalat. In obedience to his parent's vow, Jacobus was placed at the age of two in the local monastery under the care of abbot Eustathius, and trained in Greek and Syriac literature and in the strictest asceticism. He became remarkable for the severity of his self-discipline. Having on the death of his parents inherited their property, including a couple of slaves, he manumitted them, and made over the house and estate to them, reserving nothing for himself. He eventually became a presbyter. His fame spread, reaching the Byzantine empress Theodora, who eagerly desired to meet him, as one of the chief figures of the anti-Chalcedonian movement. James was with much difficulty convinced to leave his monastery for Constantinople. Arriving at the imperial capital, he was received with much honor by Theodora. But the splendor of the court had no attractions for him, and he retired to one of the monasteries of the city, where he lived as a complete recluse.
Read more about this topic: Jacob Baradaeus
Famous quotes containing the words early and/or life:
“For the writer, there is nothing quite like having someone say that he or she understands, that you have reached them and affected them with what you have written. It is the feeling early humans must have experienced when the firelight first overcame the darkness of the cave. It is the communal cooking pot, the Street, all over again. It is our need to know we are not alone.”
—Virginia Hamilton (b. 1936)
“The symbol of perpetual youth, the grass-blade, like a long green ribbon, streams from the sod into the summer, checked indeed by the frost, but anon pushing on again, lifting its spear of last years hay with the fresh life below. It grows as steadily as the rill oozes out of the ground.... So our human life but dies down to its root, and still puts forth its green blade to eternity.”
—Henry David Thoreau (18171862)