Phocas the Gardener

In the 4^th Century in what is now Turkey, a man named Phocas lived in a little town called Sinope. There were walls around the city gate and he owned a little house with a garden just outside the gate.

Phocas tended the garden and made his living selling its fruits. At that time period, the government sat at the gates and controlled the entrances and exits to the cities. If you were a merchant you had to pay a tariff to go into the city and sell your wares.

So Phocas sat outside the gate, and as people were going in and out of the city, they passed right by his house. He would greet them and offer to let them come and sit in the cool of his garden and enjoy a rest. He had fruit and drink refreshments and was known for his hospitality to strangers.

Phocas used the opportunity to speak to them about his faith and he became known as ‘The Christian at the Gate.’ He did this until he was an old man and was widely respected and jeered alike.

One day things changed. Diocletian, the Roman emperor, instituted a purging of Christians from the empire and declared that all Christians were to be killed. He sent a band of Roman soldiers to Sinope with secret orders to capture and publicly execute Phocas.

When the band of soldiers came, riding across into the city, they arrived at the gate weary and tired and Phocas was there to greet them. Not knowing who they were or what they were sent to do, Phocas treated them as long lost friends, bringing them into his garden and offering them refreshments.

Because they were strangers in town, Phocas offered them lodging and put them up for the night inside his home. During the evening meal, as they all were talking, he asked, “What is your business here?” to which the soldiers responded, “Our business is really a secret but we can trust you seeing as you’re a man of honor and hospitality.”

The soldiers then revealed, “We’ve been sent by the emperor to search out a dangerous person. His name is Phocas. And he’s a follower of that dangerous Jesus that the Christians are all talking about.  He’s a danger to the empire and he must be executed. If you know him, could you please help us find him?”

Phocas immediately answered, “I do know him very well. And he’s very near. In the morning I’ll help you with your business.”

The men went to bed as Phocas contemplated what he should do. He could escape; he had 10-12 hours to get away before they awoke and could be 20-30 miles away and out of danger. But if he did, these Roman soldiers, sent on orders of the emperor, would return with their mission unfulfilled and likely lose their lives for not executing their task.

Phocas was in a quandary, and the way the story's been passed down, it only took him a few minutes to decide what he was to do. He took a shovel, went out to his garden and began to dig. All night he dug.

The next morning he had a grave built and was standing in it, leaning on his shovel, when the captain of the guard came seeking him and asked, “What’s going on?” Phocas then told him who he was.

The men were astonished. They were reluctant to execute him but Phocas wouldn’t have it. He said, “If you let me live, the chances are great that you won’t live. I have no bitterness against you. My heart is filled with the hope of heaven.”

Eventually the soldiers executed him, assured by Phocas’ declaration of, “I’m not mad; I’m not bitter. This is the way life is. If you’re a follower of Jesus Christ, this is what you do. My Savior didn’t flee from Gethsemane; He didn’t flee from the Cross and I won’t flee from bearing this.”

The soldiers buried him in his grave and put a monument on top of it and the story of Phocas the Gardener was passed down for 10 centuries. The monument stood until the 15^th century when the Ottomans overthrew the Byzantine Empire in 1543 and destroyed the monument.

For almost a thousand years the monument stood as a testament to the man whose body was in the grave but whose soul was with his Savior.

The moral is the hope of heaven removes fear. It makes life REAL life and we today can dare to live a little more like Phocas and a little less like the way we’re prone to.