Apostle Andronicus of the Seventy and his fellow laborer St. Junia (1st c.).
Martyrs Solochon, Pamphamer, and Pamphalon, soldiers, at Chalcedon (284-305). St. Stephen the New, patriarch of Constantinople (893). St. Eudocia, in monasticism Euphrosyne, princess of Moscow (1407). St. Andronicus the Gravedigger, monk of the Zverinets Monastery (Kiev) (1096). St. Jonah Atamansky, archpriest, of Odessa (1924). Translation of the relics of St. Adrian, founder of Ondrusov Monastery (Karelia) (1551).
St. Melangell, virgin hermitess, of Pennant, Wales (6th c.). Sts. Nectarius (1550) and Theophanes (1544), of Meteora. Great-martyr Nicholas of Sofia (1555). St. Athanasius the New, bishop and wonderworker of Christianopolis (1735).
Tuesday. [Acts 21:26–32; John 16:2–13]
When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will
guide you into all truth (John 16:13). Why is this
source of knowledge not mentioned in books of rhetoric? It
is not surprising that this point is not in pagan books of
rhetoric, but why is it not in Christian ones? Can it be
that when a Christian begins to philosophize he ought to
cease being a Christian and forget all the true and
unquestionable promises which were given to him? People
often explain how to see and hear; they also teach well
enough to make generalizations and inductions from what is
seen and heard. But when the time comes to unravel the
meaning of it all, here the nursling of logic is left to
the devices of his own guesswork. Why not suggest to him:
you have the revelations of the spirit of
truth—follow them. They resolve the meaning of all
existence and events in an indisputable manner, for they
proceed from God, in Whom lies the source of existence
itself. Perhaps all the guessing has multiplied so greatly
that now all books (about God’s world) are filled
with just guesses precisely because no one remembers to
make that suggestion? It would be alright if these books
were at least a little worthwhile; but it is clear at
first glance that they are but the fruit of childish
imagination.