4,301 Orthodox Saints Who Said “No” to an Ecumenical Council
A curious kid was reading the lives of the saints and giving his dad a theological headache. Now the boundaries that seemed so obvious, don't seem quite so clear...
The living room smelled faintly of tea and beeswax from the family prayer corner. Icons glowed in the lamplight, their golden halos catching shadows on the wall. The kettle hummed softly in the kitchen. A father and son sat together in the quiet: one in a sturdy chair, arms folded with authority, the other perched on the couch, curious but hesitant.
“Dad,” the boy began carefully, “you know how you’ve been warning us about the dangers of Ecumenism?”
“Yes, son,” his father answered, his voice firm. “And I meant every word. Ecumenism is the heresy of heresies. It pretends that the saints, councils, and canons never condemned false teachings. It whispers that heresy isn’t really heresy, and that division doesn’t matter. But that’s a lie — it’s a denial of the Orthodox Faith itself.”
The boy twisted his fingers nervously. “But… are there any exceptions? Times when people were just mistaken, or misunderstood? Could some of them still be saved?”
“Absolutely not,” the father said. “If someone does not confess all Seven Ecumenical Councils, they are outside the Church. And outside the Church, there is no salvation.”
“But what if someone dies for Christ? Like a martyr?”
The father sighed. His voice softened, though it lost none of its certainty. “Son, if a man is outside the Church — in schism or heresy — then even the blood of martyrdom cannot wash away his sin. It’s tragic, but they are anathema, cut off from Christ.”
The boy fell quiet for a moment, staring at the rug. “Ok… but if a person’s still alive, there’s hope, right? They could repent?”
“Of course,” his father said. “Repentance is always possible while there’s breath. If they turn from heresy and come into the true Church, heaven is open.”
The boy smiled faintly. “So… if one of my Coptic friends wanted to go to church for a special feast, and I were to be with him, that would be alright? I’d be praying for him to eventually become Orthodox.”
The father’s eyes narrowed. “No, son. You can’t go running into Coptic services. The canons forbid praying with heretics. And we certainly don’t join their feasts. Their ‘saints’ aren’t saints at all—they rejected Chalcedon! We can’t honor that.”
“But—”
“No buts!” The father’s voice was sharp now. “We are not ecumenists. And I didn’t even know you had Coptic friends. Who invited you to this feast anyway?”
The boy grinned. “Dad! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s not at a Coptic church. It’s our church. Fr. Matthias invited us.”
The father blinked, startled. “Our church? Fr. Matthias? That doesn’t make sense. You said it was a Coptic friend.”
“No, I just asked if my Coptic friend could come with me. The invitation is from our priest. The feast is tomorrow at our parish.”
The father rubbed his forehead. “Well… fine. But a Copt won’t enjoy our feast. They don’t recognize our saints. Unless these particular saints lived before the council of Chalcedon, it won’t work.”
“That’s the funny part,” the boy said. “These saints lived after Chalcedon, in the sixth century. And my Coptic friend loves them. He even has their icons in his room.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” the father muttered. “Why would a Coptic family have icons of Chalcedonian saints?”
“Because these saints rejected Chalcedon,” the boy replied. “They were miaphysites.”
The words landed like a stone. The father froze. “That’s impossible…”
“What’s impossible?”
“That our priest would commemorate non-Chalcedonian saints in the Liturgy. Why would he do that? He’s not an ecumenist…”
The boy’s eyes shone. “Because if honoring these saints makes him an ecumenist, then all the saints are ecumenists.”
“Explain,” the father demanded.
“Tomorrow’s feast is for St. Arethas and the 4,299 martyrs of Najran, and for St. Elesbaan the king. Dad, I looked up the history. Long after the council of Chalcedon — about two generations later — a famous miaphysite bishop the Coptics call St. Philoxenus ordained the bishops of Najran. These bishops and the martyrs who followed them were Christians who rejected Chalcedon. And yet they’re universally honored — in Orthodox churches in Russia, Greece, Serbia, Romania, Georgia, and Antioch — in the Coptic, Syriac, Armenian, and Ethiopian churches — even among Old Believers and the 'Genuine Orthodox' and 'True Orthodox' sects. The Roman Catholic Church recognizes them too. The Greek Synaxarion includes these saints. In Russia, St. Dmitry of Rostov included them in his Great Collection of the Lives of the Saints in the 17th century. St. Nikolai Velimirovic told their story in the Prologue of Ohrid in the 20th century. These saints weren’t Chalcedonians. And for over a thousand years, numerous saints in our Church have venerated them. Our Church calls them holy.”
The boy pulled a volume from the shelf labeled “Lives of the Saints” by St. Dmitry of Rostov, and he read aloud:
“When Justin reigned in Greece, and Elesbaan in Ethiopia, both faithful and pious kings, a lawless king named Dunaan ascended the throne... He was a Jew by birth and faith, a blasphemer of Christ, and a great persecutor of Christians... He ordered that Christians everywhere either accept the Jewish faith or be mercilessly slaughtered... Hearing that the inhabitants of Nagran disobeyed his command and refused to live by Jewish law, Dunaan marched against them with all his troops, planning to exterminate the Christians in his region and thereby anger Elesbaan, the king of Ethiopia.”
“The king entered the city with his entire army, like a wolf in sheep's clothing... and ordered all the citizens, along with Saint Arethas, to be chained and imprisoned. After this, he sent to their homes and plundered their property. He also asked where Paul, their bishop, was. Having learned that the bishop had died two years earlier, he ordered his coffin to be dug up and, having removed the body of the deceased, burned it with fire and scattered the ashes into the air. Then, having lit a huge fire, he gathered a multitude of priests, clergy, monks, nuns and virgins dedicated to God, numbering four hundred and twenty-seven, and, throwing them into the fire, burned them, saying: 'They are the ones responsible for the death of others, since they advised them to honor the Crucified One as God.’”
He pulled down another volume. “Here’s an account from the Greek Orthodox Synaxarion:”
“Arethas was sacrificed first. The others followed... Their honest remains were crowned with glory and their souls went into the light of Paradise, accompanied by angels. There they rejoice and praise the all-holy Triune God... May the holy great martyr Arethas also guide our nation, all of us, parents and infants and children and adolescents...”
“And in the Prologue of Ohrid, St. Nikolai wrote:”
“Inflamed with zeal for the Christian Faith, this pious king raised an army against the governor Dunaan, the wicked persecutor of Christians... Defeating Dunaan, Elesbaan returned to Ethiopia, immediately left the imperial court and entered a monastery... God endowed him with the grace of miracle-working before and after his death. He entered into rest in the year 555 A.D.”
The father rubbed his temples. His fortress of certainty trembled under the testimony of a thousand years. He looked at the icons, at the soft glow of St. George and St. Nicholas, and sighed.
“Well… I can’t argue with the Church’s calendar of saints. It’s not for me to erase their names.”
“So Caleb can come with me tomorrow?” the boy asked, hope in his voice. “He loves St. Arethas and St. Elesbaan. He thinks it’s amazing we’re celebrating them too.”
The father hesitated, then exhaled. “Well… since it’s at our church… I suppose it won’t hurt.”
The boy leapt up and hugged him tightly. “Thanks, Dad! You’re the best.”
As the boy dashed off to call his friend, the father leaned back in his chair. For a moment he chuckled to himself and muttered toward the kitchen: “Honey… where are the headache pills?”
Then, after a pause, he turned back to the icons. He crossed himself slowly, whispering a troparion he remembered from past liturgies: “Thy martyrs, O Lord, in their courageous contest for Thee, received as the prize the crowns of incorruption…” His voice caught for a moment, but steadied as he added quietly, “Holy Martyrs of Najran, pray to God for us.”
And in that quiet moment, he realized his son had not only asked him a deep question about ecumenism — he had reminded him that the mystery of holiness runs deeper than our debates.
The above dialogue between father and son centers around a paradox: Eastern Orthodox church calendars honoring saints who rejected Chalcedon. And behind that paradox lies a remarkable, historically traceable background: a story of bishops, martyrs, and kings bound together across the Red Sea by a shared miaphysite confession of the Christian faith.
The Council of Chalcedon (451) had attempted to codify a dyophysite Christology—affirming “two natures, without confusion, change, division, or separation.” But for many Christian bishops in Syria, Egypt, Armenia, and Ethiopia, this definition was viewed not as a clarification but as a corruption of the faith. They insisted instead on the formula of St. Cyril of Alexandria: “μία φύσις τοῦ Θεοῦ Λόγου σεσαρκωμένη” — “the one nature of the Word of God Incarnate.” These miaphysites (inaccurately called “monophysites” by their opponents) built their identity on rejecting Chalcedon and holding fast to St. Cyril.
A prominent bishop, known by Syriac Christians as St. Philoxenus of Mabbug, was among the most vigorous opponents of Chalcedon. In the Discourses of Philoxenus, one can read the Life of Philoxenus (page 23), and a list of many statements he made, condemning the Council of Chalcedon (pages 39-45). He fervently defended miaphysite Christology, and he was careful only to ordain bishops who were uncompromising non-Chalcedonians. He extended his influence into Arabia, ordaining a bishop the Syriac church calls St. Severus, who later became Patriarch of Antioch.

When the Christians in the city of Najran needed bishops, they turned directly to Philoxenus. He consecrated two successive bishops for them, both named Paul (Mar Pawlos). This decision was not neutral; it placed Najran squarely in the miaphysite camp.
When the evil Jewish king Dunaan began persecuting Christians in the year 523, his first symbolic act was to desecrate the tomb of Bishop Paul, recently deceased. He had Paul’s body disinterred and burned. This was no random insult — it was a direct attack on the city’s miaphysite bishop who had been ordained by Philoxenus, and who was beloved by St. Arethas and all the faithful Christians in the city. This was a slap in the face to the entire Christian community. Only then did the slaughter of the living begin.
Simeon of Beth Arsham, one of the earliest sixth-century witnesses, interviewed survivors from Najran and wrote a long letter describing the martyrdoms that had recently taken place. He identifies St. Arethas as the leader of Najran’s Christians, praises their refusal to apostatize, and emphasizes their theological stance as miaphysite. He states that the Jewish king “condemned them for their confession” and “burned the bones of the holy bishop Paul”. This testimony, written only a few years after the massacre, anchors the event firmly in a miaphysite context.
Across the Red Sea: The Nine Saints of Aksum
Around the same time, the Ethiopian kingdom of Aksum was being shaped by a wave of miaphysite leaders who were fleeing the Byzantine empire. Tradition records the arrival of the “Nine Saints” (Tisʿatu Qaddusan), monks from Syria and Asia Minor who fled Chalcedonian persecution in the late fifth and early sixth centuries.
They could have settled in Alexandria, where most Christians were miaphysites, and where only a small minority were Chalcedonian. But having recently experienced persecution, instead of settling anywhere near the Byzantine empire, they fled further south, to a land where Chalcedonian Christians were almost nonexistent.
Finally settling in Ethiopia, their ongoing work was transformative:
Translating Scripture and liturgy into the Geʽez language [ancient Ethiopian], solidifying Ethiopia’s Christian culture.
Founding world famous monasteries like Debre Damo, which became centers of learning and asceticism.
Establishing Ethiopia as firmly and irrevocably miaphysite.
Thus by the early 500s, the cities of Najran and Aksum stood as two poles of a single anti-Chalcedonian axis across the Red Sea.
Martyrs and Kings
St. Arethas, a 95-year-old elder, and 4,299 companions were executed for refusing to deny Christ. Simeon of Beth Arsham and the Book of the Himyarites both make clear that the martyrs’ confession was specifically miaphysite, inherited from their bishops ordained by Philoxenus.
The news reverberated across Christendom. In Aksum, King Caleb (Elesbaan) — a devout miaphysite Christian ruler whose spiritual life had been shaped by the Nine Saints — mobilized his armies. He crossed the Red Sea, defeated the wicked Jewish king, and reestablished Christian rule in the region.
King Caleb later abdicated and lived as a monk. Ever since, he has been remembered as a saint both in Ethiopian and in Byzantine hagiography. His campaign was not a generic Christian intervention, but an act of solidarity with fellow miaphysite believers.
A consistent narrative can be traced step by step:
Philoxenus of Mabbug: ordains Najran’s bishops, ensuring miaphysite confession
Bishop Paul: his relics are desecrated as an attack on miaphysite Christians
The Najran Martyrs: slain for their miaphysite Christian faith
The Nine Saints: anchor Ethiopia’s identity in the same miaphysite theology
King Caleb: as a king raised within the milieu of miaphysite Christianity, he avenges the martyrdom of his fellow Christians in Najran
The unity of Najran and Aksum was not accidental, but was forged by a shared theological identity. And in God’s providence, these saints became universally venerated — even by Chalcedonian churches that had a different Christology.
Their story is thus not only a witness to faith under persecution but also a living reminder that faith in Christ and genuine sanctity can transcend the theological and political fractures of history.
Want more details about St. Arethas and the 4299 Martyrs with him? Want to read more about St. Caleb (Elesbaan) and the holy war he waged against a persecutor of Christians? A detailed account can be found in The Lives of the Saints by St. Dmitry of Rostov. Here’s a full translation in English:
The Life of Saint Kaleb of Axum, Saint Arethas, and 4299 Martyrs of Nagran
Here’s another article about St. Arethas:
The Day 4,300 Saints Told a Jewish King “No”
In the sixth-century city of Najran, over four thousand believers looked at a tyrant’s threats, looked at death itself — and refused to flinch.
And here are a couple more articles about St. Caleb (Elesbaan):
A King Who Went to War for the Cross
Many saints wore robes and carried crosses. Saint Caleb wore armor and built warships. He was a baptized king, and when he learned that Christians were being slaughtered across the sea, he didn’t just pray from a distance — he marched, sailed, and fought until the bloodshed stopped. His story is one of the clearest moments in history where God’s blessin…
St. Caleb's War Elephants
In the previous article, we read about St. Caleb — the valiant king of Aksum (Ethiopia) who marched across the sea, defeated a wicked Jewish king who was persecuting Christians, and then laid his crown at Christ’s feet and entered a monastery. Today we’re zooming in on one of the wildest details of that story:






Glory to Jesus Christ!
One of my favorite YouTube channels is Coptic Orthodox Answers, original called Orthodox Answers.
I have learnt more about my Orthodox Faith from the two Priests, Father John and Father Anthony than anywhere else since I converted in 2003.
As Eastern Orthodox we need to look to the east to unite; not to the heretical west, who believe in the immaculate conception of the Theotokos, the Patriarch of Rome is infallible, and other heretical things.
May the Lord grant wisdom to our Patriarchs.
We embrace Orthodoxy and its teachings, standing firm against the world's logic that supports narratives like Darwinism and other false historical methods. Instead of seeking truth and withholding judgment, you've clouded the issue for the faithful with an emotional fictional dialogue between a father and son. Your clickbait title misrepresents the martyrs' stand as against Chalcedon rather than the Judaism of their persecutors. Big loss.