SAINT JOHN CHRYSOSTOM(The Golden-Mouthed, Doctor of the Eucharist, c. 347–407): HE was so good at preaching that pickpockets came to his sermons. While the audience listened intently, they plied their trade with diligence and profit. Two centuries after his death, his reputation had not diminished, but rather had grown. Then the title of Chrysostom, or “The Golden-Mouthed” was given him; in succeeding centuries and yet today, men know him by this name more readily than by his baptismal name of John. With as much right as any ecclesiastical orator, St. John Chrysostom can lay claim to the title of the greatest preacher of Christianity.
His appearance did not naturally create the impression of oratorical power, for he was so thin that in his final years he calls himself “spidery.” His shortness made it necessary for him to speak from an ambo. A total stranger looking up at the first sound of the not-too-strong voice might have been unimpressed, except for the rather keen look and the high forehead, which men said was like the dome of a church. But as St. John Chrysostom continued and the torrent of balanced phrases poured forth, the stranger, whether highly learned or hardly literate, would find himself lifted above the ordinary. He would be drawn into the flowing, warm stream of thought and emotion of this speaker. In accord with the usage of the day, he might laugh, stamp his feet or cry with the other listeners.
St. John did not fully approve of these customs, and one day he gave the full treatment in reproving the people. He said, moreover, that loud applause gave the sermons too much of a theatrical twist. The people responded by applauding with more enthusiasm than ever. I avoid as much as possible the treatment of speculative questions. For the people are usually not able to follow these things, and if they are able, still they do not understand them clearly and surely. St. John stated this principle and lived up to it. He was above all interested in leading men to the fullness of Christian living. He wanted to guide them in a practical way through the problems and difficulties of living in an atmosphere still largely pagan. So he spoke often on moral problems and of the duty of striving for perfection.
Chrysostom was very capable as an exegete, interpreting Scripture in its literal, historical sense. He was also solid in his knowledge of doctrine. But he disliked controversy; he was not like St. Augustine, interested in getting to the bottom of intricate questions of theology; nor like St. Jerome, who was interested in establishing the exact texts of Scripture from a study of many versions. In fact, he knew only one language with any thoroughness, and that was Greek. He accepted the translations of Scripture and the orthodox teachings of theology, and then did his real work in bringing the essential teachings to the people. Especially did he bring the doctrines of Christianity and the events of Scriptural history to bear on the lives of the people, translating them into practical moral and ascetic rules of life.
St. John’s contact with his listeners was immediate and complete. It was all about him talking to the all of each one who heard him. “His unrivaled charm,” Cardinal Newman says, “as that of every really eloquent man, lies in his singleness of purpose, his fixed grasp of his aim, his noble earnestness.” He was a master of the artistry of words and the art of elocution, yet never did he parade these for effect. His whole interest was the moral training and the spiritual uplifting of the people. All was subordinate to this. And though his thoughts and longings soared to the reaches of Heaven, his feet were always planted on the ground. His sermons are full of references to daily life, to current events, to the weather. He could digress easily, as he did in his fourth homily on Genesis, when he chided the congregation for not looking at him but turning to watch the acolyte lighting candles.
Youth in Antioch: St. John Chrysostom was born and spent most of his life in Antioch, the city where the seven Machabees were martyred and where men were first called “Christians.” The date was sometime between 344–354 A.D. His father, Secundus, probability of Latin origin, died when St. John was an infant; and his Greek mother, Anthusa, who was left a widow at about the age of 20, devoted herself to her two children, never remarrying. The older child, a daughter, probably died young. John received the best education possible, studying under the great Libanius, rhetorician at Antioch. In accord with the popular but unsanctioned custom of delaying Baptism, St. John did not receive this Sacrament until he was about 18. Possibly it was conferred by Bishop Meletius of Antioch himself.
The same reverential regard for Baptism and the tremendous spiritual change it brought which caused Baptism to be delayed also helped many to persevere in baptismal innocence. The contemporary biography of the Saint, usually attributed to Palladius, says, “After his Baptism, John never cursed or swore or spoke evil of anyone or spoke a lie or wished ill to anyone or tolerated loose talk.” When St. John wished to go with his friend Basilius, to live the life of a monk, his mother asked him to stay with her at home and lead an ascetic life there. St. John describes this tender scene in his work, On the Priesthood: When she perceived that I was meditating this step, she took me into her private chamber, and sitting near me on the bed where she had given birth to me, she shed torrents of tears, to which she added words yet more pitiable than her weeping.
John gave in to his mother’s wishes and remained at home. When he did finally leave to lead the monastic life under Diodorus, it is not known whether his mother had died or was still living. Launched upon His Vocation: For four years St. John lived under Diodorus of Tarsus, and for two years more he lived as a hermit. The location was just outside Antioch. During the last two years, he committed the whole New Testament to memory, an important factor in his ability as a preacher. He also unfortunately undermined his health by too strict a penitential life. Besides his study and his fasts, he never lay down to sleep during those two years, but remained in a sitting position. Prudence measures, but love does not, and it is not always possible to keep the two properly balanced in directing one’s life, especially where enthusiasm and single-mindedness are present.
Shortly before Meletius left in 381 to go to the Council of Constantinople, he ordained St. John a deacon. In 386 Flavian, the successor of Meletius as bishop, ordained St. John to the priesthood. The following year, the city of Antioch trembled for fear of retribution from the Emperor Theodosius after a violent and foolish episode of breaking up imperial statues. This demonstration had been a protest against a new tax. The aged Flavian himself went to beseech the Emperor for clemency. During that Lent of 387 St. John Chrysostom preached to overflowing and fearful congregations. The famous 21 sermons he gave at that time are known as the “Homilies on the Statues.” The 12 years of St. John’s priesthood at Antioch were fruitful and happy. He was at the height of his oratorical power and was acclaimed the best speaker in the Empire. Although not immune to praise (and even fearful that he enjoyed it too much), his happiness came from exercising to his fullest ability the office of the spiritual director to the people. He enjoyed the love and respect of most of them.
Patriarch of Constantinople: When St. John Chrysostom left Antioch, however, there was no farewell sermon. If there had been, there would have been no farewell, for the people would not have permitted it. He himself left the city thinking he was just going to meet Asterius, the Imperial Governor of Antioch. He accepted a seat in the chariot after meeting Asterius, and while it moved along swiftly, he found out he was not going merely for a short ride, but on to Constantinople, for he had been chosen as its bishop and patriarch. Nectarius, the first Bishop of Constantinople actually to be called Patriarch, had died on September 26, 397. Strangely, the chief mover in arranging this choice was Eutropius, an unprincipled minister and confidant of the Emperor Arcadius. He had a genuine admiration for Chrysostom and hoped to win him for a friend, as well as make a move popular with the people.
Constantinople was in great turmoil. The ordinary people welcomed St. John Chrysostom as a great and good man. But there was strong opposition to him in circles that were promoting other candidates. Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria, at first refused to consecrate St. John Chrysostom, but he was forced to do so early in 398 A.D. The opposition to St. John Chrysostom did not die down, but continued to grow. He was just the opposite of his predecessor, the easy-going Bishop Nectarius. He began to reform immediately and started by “sweeping the stairs from the top down,” giving the clergy more work to do, adding nocturnal antiphonal services, denouncing their seeking after wealth, calling them in privately to correct the custom of living with consecrated virgins and other abuses. He required monks to return to their monasteries instead of wandering about, as some of them did. St. John gave no banquets, ate a scanty meal in the evening, dressed poorly, sold the rich furnishings of the bishop’s palace and even some of the ornaments of the churches, and gave money and food and clothing to the poor.
There was much murmuring at all this. As he had done at Antioch, St. John continued to preach against the theater and circus and the luxury of the rich in the face of the abject poverty of the lower classes. He made his most influential enemy, however, in the ambitious Empress, Eudoxia. What he said of the vanity and vices of women in general was reported in exaggerated form as though directed against her personally. Eudoxia had become the chief power in the Eastern Empire, swaying the will of her husband, the Emperor Arcadius. When the imperial minister, Eutropius, who had helped to arrange her marriage in the first place, told her that the hand that had made her could break her, she rushed weeping with two of her babies to the Emperor and secured the deposition of the powerful minister.
Having many and powerful enemies, Eutropius ran in fear to the church to cling to the altar for protection. Even there he would not have been safe except that St. John Chrysostom came in just in time to stand between him and the menacing soldiers and the mob. “You shall not slay Eutropius unless you first slay me,” he declared. The next day Chrysostom preached what might be called the most dramatic and powerful sermon of his career, and perhaps of all history. When the people assembled, he pulled back a curtain to show the once powerful minister clinging to the altar, telling them, “The altar is more awful than ever, now that it holds the lion chained.” At times addressing the wretched Eutropius, at times turning to the congregation, he gave a thrilling exposition of the shortness of earthly glory and the duty of pity and compassion.
Sent into Exile: Intrigue, lies and defamation of character grew until they culminated in the Synod of the Oak, a council of bishops subservient to Bishop Theophilus of Alexandria and inflamed by Bishop Severian, whom St. John had once told to leave Constantinople and return to his own See. The biased synod issued a decree of deposition against St. John Chrysostom and had it ratified by the Emperor. St. John quietly left the city, but his exile was short, for something happened to make the Empress herself ask for his return. Differing explanations have been given; perhaps it was an earthquake in Constantinople, or perhaps she suffered a miscarriage. In any case, something happened which she took for a Divine judgment. St. John returned like a triumphing hero to the joy and acclaim of a great multitude, who met him carrying candles.
But the fickle heart of the Empress changed, and more constant enemies kept pressing for the Saint’s removal. At Easter of 404 there was violence and bloodshed in the cathedral; the 3,000 catechumens St. John was baptizing were driven into the street; the Holy Eucharist was desecrated. In the days that followed, attempts were twice made on St. John’s life. On June 20, 404 he left on his second and last exile. On that same day, a fire of mysterious origin burned down the great cathedral and the neighboring Senate House, destroying many priceless works of ancient pagan art. St. John Chrysostom may have seen the flames as he rode away under guard. He did not know what was burning, but soon he knew, as he was made to stand trial for arson.
Those who remained loyal to St. John were known as the Johnites. They were severely persecuted, suffering exile, loss of property, torture, and some even death. On October 6, 404, a few months after St. John had gone into exile, the still young and beautiful Empress Eudoxia died, a fact that has often been seen as a judgment of God. St. John proceeded to Cucusus in Armenia, his place of exile, which he calls “the most desolate place in the whole world.” His sufferings from fever, cold weather and rough treatment are set forth in letters to his friends, addressed to more than a hundred different individuals, 17 being to the deaconess, St. Olympias. Usually he describes these sufferings as past, saying that now everything is going well and nobody should worry.
To Olympias he wrote: With a thousand contrivances I could not avoid the mischief which the cold made me; though I had a fire and submitted to the oppressive smoke and imprisoned myself in one room and had coverings without number and never ventured to pass the threshold, nevertheless, I used to suffer in the most grievous way from continual vomitings, headache, disgust at food, and obstinate sleeplessness through the long, interminable nights. But I will not distress you longer with this account of my troubles; I am now rid of them all. Another letter, after describing similar troubles, concludes by saying: “Do not, then, make yourself anxious about my wintering here, for I feel much easier and better than I did last year.”
After a year at Cucusus, Chrysostom, along with most of the people living there, left the city for fear of the marauding Isaurians. He traveled in the severe cold, fleeing from village to village, and finally came to Arabissus, a fortress. But even from here his enemies drove him, securing a writ of banishment to Pityus, a remote spot on the far coast of the Black Sea. It seems the real object of his further exile was to hasten him mercilessly on his journey and thus secure his death. Already a sick man, he was forced to walk over mountain ranges and under the burning sun without rest. On the morning of September 14, 407, St. John Chrysostom asked his guards to wait for a while at the chapel of the martyr Basiliscus, where they had remained overnight. His request was not granted, and he walked on for about three-and-a-half miles. Then, even the guards saw that he could not go on, and they brought him back to the chapel. He received Holy Viaticum from a priest there, and shortly afterwards said what he had so often said in affliction: “Glory be to God for all things. Amen.”
So died St. John Chrysostom, the zealous priest and bishop, the magnificent preacher. Far from both those who loved him and those who hated him, his great soul, loving and forgiving, went forth from his exhausted body. In Heaven it must have received a martyr’s welcome. In 438 St. John’s hopeful prediction that he would return to Constantinople came sadly true, as his body was transferred there from the chapel of St. Basiliscus at Comana in Cappadocia. Theodosius II and Pulcheria, the children of Arcadius and Eudoxia, begged God’s forgiveness for the wrong their parents had done the great Saint. In 1204 his relics were moved to St. Peter’s in Rome.
St. John Chrysostom Still Preaches: Some of St. John Chrysostom’s sermons were taken down by tachygraphers; many others, he wrote out and perhaps never delivered. His health was not very robust, and many times, even in the sunny climate of Antioch, he had to retire to the country for periods of rest. “Preaching makes me healthy. As soon as I open my mouth all tiredness is gone.” When St. John Chrysostom said this in a sermon after an earthquake, he gave some indication of his consuming interest in preaching, as well as of his rather poor health. But the brave little man went on preaching and writing until he had left more volumes than any of the other Fathers of the Church. He wrote some treatises, but mostly there are sermons. These are not random sermons, but are largely a series of sermons, which in themselves are full-fledged commentaries on many books of Scripture. So today St. John Chrysostom still preaches, and to a wider audience than ever, as translations of his works multiply.
Dr. Paul Harkins of Xavier University, who translated the 88 homilies of St. John Chrysostom on the Gospel of St. John, said that they have a literary, doctrinal and moral value “excelled by few works in the history of the world.” An early admirer, St. Isidore of Pelusium, wrote: Who would not render thanks to the Providence of God for having lived after him in order to be able to enjoy the divine accents of that lyre by which, even better than Orpheus, he was able to charm not the beasts, but men with savage instincts?
The Rich and the Poor: One of St. John Chrysostom’s favorite themes was the duty of taking care of the poor and unfortunate. Time and again, he launches into strong criticism of the rich. He points out the gaping differences between those who loll in luxury and those who lack necessities. It was this forthright criticism which made him such strong enemies. A modern seeker after social justice could hardly improve on this appeal of St. John: It is foolishness and a public madness to fill the cupboards with clothing, and allow men, who are created in God’s image and our likeness, to stand naked and trembling with the cold, so that they can hardly hold themselves upright… Indeed, forgive me, but I almost burst from anger. Only see, you who are large and fat, you hold drinking parties until late at night, and sleep in a warm, soft bed. And do you not think of how you must give an account of your misuse of the gifts of God? The wine does not exist in order that we may get drunk; the food is not given us that we may overeat, nor that we may develop a great belly. On the other hand, your question very closely the poor and the miserable, who are scarcely better off in this respect than the dead; and you do not fear the dreadful and terrible judgment seat of Christ. If the beggar lies, he lies, from necessity, because your hard-heartedness and merciless inhumanity force him to such cheating. For who would otherwise be so wretched and pitiable that he would needlessly, for the sake of a little bread, so demean himself as to let himself be struck and mishandled. If we would give our alms gladly and willingly, the poor would never have fallen to such depths.
Indeed, for your charioteers in the circus you are ready to sacrifice your own children, and for your actors you would deliver up your own souls; but for the hungering Christ, the smallest piece of money is too large for you to give. And if you sacrifice a penny for once, it is as if you were giving away your whole property. Truly, I am ashamed when I see rich people riding about on horses decorated with gold, and with servants clad in gold coming along behind them. They have silver beds and multitudes of other luxuries. But if they have to give something to a poor man, suddenly they themselves are the poorest of the poor. As for himself, St. John built a great hospital with the money he had saved on household expenses in his first year as bishop.
John Chrysostom enjoyed the wide freedom that a congregation gives to a preacher whom they know really loves the people and whose words proceed from a heart full of love for them. But when ill will or vanity prevent people from recognizing this, then bitter enmities are spawned. St. Chrysostom, found his most bitter enemies in the Empress Eudoxia and others among the rich and the influential who considered his stern words as pointing directly at them. None were so severe as he in correcting, but he was also so sympathetic toward sinners that he earned the name “John of Repentance.”
Circus and Theater: Chrysostom calls the circus and theater “this universal school of dissoluteness” and “this training ground of unchastity.” He was not alone in his denunciation of the abandoned theatricals and spectacles of the late fourth century. The great pagan Libanius in his youth had written a defense of actors, but in his mature years he wrote against them as an open sore in the city of Antioch and accused them of bringing many to corruption. St. John Chrysostom blamed the theater for spoiling the innocent joys of life.
If but once the flame of impure lust seizes you in the theater and those impure looks bewitch you, then you wrong the pure and respected comrade of your life. You revile her, you do everything possible to reproach her, even though there is no cause for reproach. You shames yourself in knowing your passion, and in showing your wounds, which you have brought home from there. Therefore, you need excuses, and you seek absurd causes for quarreling; you value cheaply everything you have at home, and you demand only vulgar, impure passion after the example of those who have dealt you those wounds. The tone of their voices you have always in your ears, you see always their forms, their glances, their motions, and whatever else such women have shown you of the art of seduction. At home your wife can no longer do anything to please you.
St. John Chrysostom often preached against the theater, but he seemed to affect little with the majority of the people: How often have I preached, how often admonished the frivolous and spoken to them, urging them to stay away from the stage and all the wantonness that results from it. It has not done any good. To this very day they run after a forbidden look at the dancers, place the devil’s assembly in preference to the community of God’s Church…
All Called to Be Perfect: “Is it perhaps only monks who are obliged to please God?” Chrysostom asks. He answers, “No, God wishes that all should become holy and that none should neglect the practice of virtue.” St. John Chrysostom did not have the idea that perfection belongs only to monks or to priests. He tried constantly to raise the spiritual sights of the laymen of the Church. You make a great mistake, if you think that anything different is required from people in the world than from monks. The one difference is this, that the one takes a wife, the other does not. In all other things, the same reckoning will be demanded from each.
In Homily 5 on the Statues he quotes St. Paul: “Be you imitators of me, even as I also am of Christ.” Then he asks why they who have been educated in piety from the beginning cannot easily imitate someone converted late in life like St. Paul. In Homily 20 on the Acts of the Apostles, he urges the people not only to save themselves, but to help save others. Nothing can be more chilling than the sight of a Christian who makes no effort to save others. Neither poverty, nor humble station, nor bodily infirmity can exempt men and women from the obligation of this great duty. To hide our light under pretense of weakness is as great an insult to God as if we were to say that He could not make His sun to shine.
Doctor of the Eucharist: St. John Chrysostom has two claims to the title, “Doctor of the Eucharist.” He wrote a famous and much used treatise on the priesthood; it is in fact his best known work. Plus, he spoke often in the clearest possible terms about the Mass and the Eucharist. In his treatise On the Priesthood, which is in the form of a dialogue between himself and his friend Basilius, he says: The greatness and the dignity of the priesthood rise above all that is earthly and human. For the priestly office is indeed discharged on earth, but it ranks amongst heavenly ordinances; and very naturally so, for neither man nor angel, nor archangel, nor any other created power, but the Paraclete Himself, instituted this vocation and persuaded men, while still abiding in the flesh, to represent the ministry of angels. Therefore, the consecrated priest ought to be as pure as if he were standing in the heavens themselves in the midst of those powers… For when thou seest the Lord sacrificed and laid upon the altar, and the priest standing and praying over the Victim, and all the worshippers empurpled with that Precious Blood, canst thou think that thou art still amongst men and standing on the earth…. Oh, what a marvel! What love of God to man!
Concerning especially the priest’s powers of baptizing and of forgiving sin through the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, St. John Chrysostom says: God has bestowed a power on priests greater than that of our natural parents. The two indeed differ as much as the present and the future life. For our natural parents generate us into this life only, but the others unto that which is to come. At the end of the second Homily on the Statues, St. John Chrysostom makes this comparison: Elias left a sheepskin to his disciple, but the Son of God, ascending, left to us His own flesh! … Let us not lament, nor fear the difficulties of the times, for He who did not refuse to pour out His Blood for all and has suffered us to partake of His Blood again—what will He refuse to do for our safety? St. John Chrysostom asks for charity for the leaders of the Church in Homily 21, 7 on 1 Corinthians:
Indeed, one can observe that our spiritual leaders do not experience so much evil censure and calumny from the pagans as they do from the so called faithful and those who belong to us. And yet there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can ruin the Church so easily and surely as when no intimate bond exists anymore between the listeners and the teachers, between the children and their spiritual fathers, between chief and subordinate. Of this I warn you, and I pray you weeping: Cease this wicked custom.
Unaffected simplicity: Cardinal Newman preferred the Saints of the early Church to those who came later because the former revealed their secret heart in their writings. Even their treatises were not so formal that personal feelings and autobiographical details could not be included. The early Saints made it a practice to be themselves—especially St. John Chrysostom, whom Cardinal Newman calls “this many-gifted Saint, this most natural and human of the creations of supernatural grace.” Chrysostom has revealed his secret heart in treatises, sermons and letters. It is a heart that is bent on the supreme goals, adhered to with unswerving simplicity: the glory of God and the salvation of souls. At the same time it is responsive to and aware of all the little elements of daily living. “Possessed though he be by the fire of divine charity, he has not lost one fiber, he does not miss one vibration, about the complicated whole of human sentiment and affection; like the miraculous bush in the desert, which for all the flame that wrapt it round, was not thereby consumed.” (Newman).
In reading over the sermons of St. John Chrysostom, one might feel sometimes that he was too severe in his words of correction. This may be so, because he was carried along by the heat and fervor of the moment. At least one time he corrected himself for getting too strong in his expression. He had been urging husbands not to get unduly worked up over the foibles of their wives. Then in describing these foibles, he became unduly worked up himself; finally he paused, admitting that he was himself unwittingly demonstrating just what he had preached against. There was nothing cold and calculated about St. John’s choice of words. He felt deeply, and he thought strongly and clearly. He praised and blamed accordingly. He was the loving father speaking to his children. Few really good fathers could have all their words of advice and reproof to their children classified as always sweetly moderate. Strong love and strong feeling must show themselves in strong language.
A Friend to Friends and to Enemies: St. John Chrysostom was of a sunny, sanguine, optimistic disposition. Though he spoke at times of discouragement, he never gave up. He continued to exhort, to praise, to reprove despite the continued relapses of the people. From exile, he wrote the treatise, That None Can Harm the Man Who Does Not Injure Himself. In his first letter to St. Olympias from exile, he said: “Never be cast down, then, for one thing alone is fearful, that is, sin.” St. John Chrysostom was not a man who had a wide circle of close friends. On private contact, some few who did not know him well thought him too cold and reserved. But to great numbers, men and women of all ages, he was accepted on affectionate terms. To those who knew him well he was always cheerful and often playful. He lived with his friends; and despite his stern asceticism, he needed them. “It is not a light effort, but it demands an energetic soul and a great mind to bear separation from one whom we love in the charity of Christ,” he wrote while in exile. At that sad time, too, he complained pitifully about not receiving letters. “Do not be backward in writing to me from time to time, nay, very frequently.”
I should write more frequently to you, under a feeling that my letters might be of service; but, as it is, many persons have crossed in this place who might have brought me a letter from you, and it has been a great sorrow that I have received nothing. Cardinal Newman asked himself the question: “Whence is this devotion to St. John Chrysostom, which leads me to dwell upon the thought of him and makes me kindle at his name, when so many other great saints… command my veneration, but exert no personal claim on my heart?” He answers it by saying that Chrysostom’s charm lies in his intimate sympathy and compassion for the whole world, not only in its strength, but also in its weakness. St. John Chrysostom has an affectionate regard for each person, just because he is that person, different from all others. His affection is not directed to a group, but always to each person. He can be said to have a devotion to the individual.
St. John Chrysostom preached his most enduring sermon when he went quietly into exile. A short while before, he could have sat in judgment on his powerful and scheming foe, Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria. He was asked to, but refused. At any point in the developing climax of intrigue, he could with his oratory have roused thousands to support him. But he trusted God’s justice to correct things in the long run. He wanted no bloodshed. There were no words of bitterness in his letters from exile; rather, hope and forgiveness breathed through them. And even the forgiveness was subdued and in the background. Many words of forgiveness might have shown him to be too interested in his own feelings. He was really more interested in the ultimate good of the Church and in the present circumstances of his friends. He was a man who looked not back, but ahead.
Along with St. Basil, St. Gregory Nazianzen and St. Athanasius, St. John Chrysostom is counted as one of the four great Eastern Doctors of the Church. In 1909 Pope St. Pius X made him the special patron of all those who preach the word of God. St. John Chrysostom would also be an understanding Saint to call on when it is hard to forgive. For he teaches us not to look backward in bitterness, but to keep looking forward with hope. St. John Chrysostom’s feast day in the Roman Rite is now celebrated on September 13 (January 27 in the 1962 calendar).
