Letters 38–40

To his brother Gregory, on the difference between essence and hypostasis. 1. Since many, in the mystical doctrines, do not distinguish what is common in the essence from the meaning of the hypostases, and think it makes no difference whether one says essence or hypostasis (and so it has pleased some who accept such things without examination to speak of one hypostasis just as of one essence; and, conversely, those who accept three hypostases think they must, on the strength of this confession, teach a division of essences in the same number), for this reason, so that you may not suffer the same, I have written you a short memorandum on the subject. The meaning of the terms, to set it out in a few words, is as follows. 2. Of all names, some, used of several things differing in number, have a more general meaning, as “man.” For whoever says this, having indicated the common nature by the name, has not marked off by the word some particular man who is known individually by the name. For Peter is no more a man than Andrew, John, and James. So the commonness of what is signified, extending equally to all who are ranked under the same name, needs a further distinction, by which we shall recognize not man in general but Peter or John. Other names have a more particular reference, by which what is contemplated in the thing signified is not the commonness of the nature but a circumscription of some thing, having, as to its particularity, no community with what is of the same kind, as “Paul” or “Timothy.” For such a word no longer refers to what is common in the nature, but, separating certain circumscribed things from the comprehensive meaning, presents them by the names. When, then, of two or more who are in the same category, as Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, an account of the essence of men is sought, no one will give one account of essence for Paul, another for Silvanus, and another for Timothy; but the terms by which the essence of Paul is shown will fit the others also; and those described by the same account of essence are of the same essence with one another. But when someone, having learned what is common, turns his view to the particulars by which one is separated from another, the account that makes each known will no longer coincide in every respect with that of the other, even if in some points it is found to have something in common. 3. This, then, is what we say: what is spoken of particularly is indicated by the word “hypostasis.” For whoever says “man” produces in the hearer a diffuse idea, because of the indefiniteness of the meaning, so that the nature is indicated by the name, but the thing that subsists and is particularly indicated by the name is not signified. But whoever says “Paul” shows the nature subsisting in the thing indicated by the name. This, then, is the hypostasis: not the indefinite notion of the essence, which finds no standing because of the commonness of what is signified, but that which presents and circumscribes in some particular thing, through the particularities that appear, what is common and uncircumscribed. So Scripture too is accustomed to do this, both in many other places and in the story of Job. For when it was about to tell his story, it first mentioned what is common and said “a man,” and at once marked him off by what is particular with the addition of “a certain.” The description of the essence it passed over in silence, as bringing no gain for the purpose of the narrative; but it characterizes the particular man by his own marks, naming his place and the marks of his character, and whatever external things, taken together, would separate him and set him apart from the common meaning, so that the description of the man narrated becomes clear in every respect: from his name, from his place, from the particularities of his soul, from the external things observed about him. But if it had been giving the account of the essence, there would have been no mention of these things in explaining the nature. For the account would have been the same for Bildad the Shuhite, Zophar the Naamathite, and each of the men mentioned there. Transfer, then, the account of the difference between essence and hypostasis that you have learned in our own case to the divine doctrines as well, and you will not go wrong. Whatever your thought suggests the being of the Father to be (for it is not possible to rest the soul on any detached notion, being convinced that it is beyond every notion), this you will think of the Son also, and likewise of the Holy Spirit. For the account of the uncreated and the incomprehensible is one and the same in the case of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. For one is not more incomprehensible and uncreated, and another less. But since in the Trinity we must keep an unconfused distinction through the particular marks, we shall not take what is contemplated in common, such as being uncreated, I mean, or beyond all comprehension, or anything of that kind, into our judgment of what is particular; we shall seek only those marks by which the notion of each will be clearly and unmixedly set apart from what is contemplated together with it. 4. It seems to me well to track down the account in this way. Every good thing that reaches us from the divine power we say is the working of the grace that works all things in all, as the Apostle says: “All these things the one and the same Spirit works, distributing to each individually as he wills.” But when we ask whether the supply of good things, taking its origin from the Holy Spirit alone, so comes to those who are worthy, we are again led by Scripture to believe that the source and cause of the supply of the good things worked in us through the Spirit is the only-begotten God. For we have been taught by holy Scripture that all things came into being through him and hold together in him. When, then, we have been raised to that thought too, again, led up by the divinely inspired guidance, we are taught that through that power all things are brought from non-being into being, yet not even from it without origin; but there is a power subsisting without generation and without origin, which is the cause of the cause of all things that exist. For from the Father is the Son, through whom are all things, with whom the Holy Spirit is always inseparably conceived. For it is not possible to come to the thought of the Son without being first enlightened by the Spirit. Since, then, the Holy Spirit, from whom the whole supply of good things to creation springs, is attached to the Son and is apprehended together with him without interval, and has its being dependent on the cause of the Father, from whom it also proceeds, it has this mark that makes known its particularity as to hypostasis: being known after the Son and with him, and subsisting from the Father. The Son, who makes known through himself and with himself the Spirit who proceeds from the Father, alone shining forth only-begottenly from the unbegotten light, has, as to his particular marks, no community with the Father or with the Holy Spirit, but is known alone by the marks mentioned. And the God who is over all alone has, as an exceptional mark of his own hypostasis, being Father and subsisting from no cause; and by this mark again he too is recognized particularly. For this reason we say that in the commonness of the essence the marks contemplated in the Trinity are incompatible and incommunicable, marks by which the particularity of the persons handed down in the faith is presented, each being apprehended distinctly by its own marks; so that through the marks mentioned the separateness of the hypostases is discovered. But as to infinity, incomprehensibility, uncreated being, not being contained by any place, and all such things, there is no variation in the life-giving nature, in the Father, I mean, and the Son and the Holy Spirit; but a certain continuous and unbroken communion is contemplated in them. And by whatever notions one may consider the majesty of any one of those believed in the holy Trinity, by the same he will approach without variation, seeing the glory in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, his mind not walking on emptiness in any interval between Father and Son and Holy Spirit. For there is nothing inserted between them, neither some subsisting thing other than the divine nature, so as to be able to divide it from itself by the intrusion of something foreign, nor the emptiness of some unsubstantial interval, which would make the harmony of the divine essence with itself gape open, breaking its continuity by the insertion of a void. But he who has thought of the Father has thought of him in himself and has also received the Son along with him in his mind; and he who has grasped the Son has not separated the Spirit from the Son, but, in sequence according to order and conjointly according to nature, has formed in himself the faith in the three blended together at once. And he who names the Spirit alone includes in this confession also him whose Spirit it is. And since the Spirit is Christ's and from God, as Paul says, then just as one who takes hold of one end of a chain draws the other end along with it, so he who has drawn the Spirit, as the prophet says, has drawn along through it both the Son and the Father. And if anyone truly receives the Son, he will have him bringing with him on either side his own Father on the one hand and his own Spirit on the other. For he who is always in the Father can never be cut off from the Father, nor will he who works all things in it ever be separated from his own Spirit. Likewise he who has received the Father has potentially received with him the Son and the Spirit. For it is not possible to conceive any cutting or division in any way, so that the Son should be thought of without the Father, or the Spirit separated from the Son; but a certain ineffable and inconceivable communion and distinction is apprehended in them, the difference of the hypostases not tearing apart the continuity of the nature, nor the community of the essence dissolving the particularity of the marks. Do not wonder that we say the same thing is both joined and distinguished, and conceive, as in a riddle, a new and strange distinction that is conjoined and a conjunction that is distinguished. For if one does not listen to the argument contentiously and spitefully, such a thing can be found even among sensible things. 5. And receive my argument as an illustration and shadow of the truth, not as the very truth of the realities. For it is not possible for what is seen in illustrations to fit in every respect the things for which the use of illustrations is adopted. How, then, do we say that what is at once distinct and conjoined can be reasoned out by analogy from what appears to our senses? You have at some time seen in spring the brightness of the bow in the cloud, I mean the bow which common speech is accustomed to call the rainbow. Those skilled in such things say that it forms when some moisture is mixed into the air, the force of the winds squeezing into rain what is moist and thick in the vapors, which has already become cloudy. And they say it forms thus: when the sun's ray, running obliquely under the dense and shadowy part of the cloud, then rests its own circle directly upon some cloud, a kind of bending and return of the light upon itself occurs, the gleam turning back from the moist and shining surface. For since it is the nature of flamelike rays, if they fall on something smooth, to be reflected back upon themselves, and the shape of the sun formed by the ray in the moist and smooth part of the air is circular, of necessity the air next to the cloud is also outlined by the reflected gleam according to the shape of the sun's circle. This gleam, then, is both continuous with itself and divided. For being many-colored and many-formed, it is imperceptibly blended with itself by the varied hues of its dye, secretly stealing from our sight the meeting of the different colors with one another, so that the space between the blue and the flame-colored, which mixes and separates the difference of the colors, cannot be discerned, nor that between the flame-colored and the purple, nor between that and the amber. For the rays of all, seen at once, are both far-shining and, stealing away the signs of their contact with one another, escape testing, so that it is impossible to find how far the fiery or the emerald part of the gleam extends, and where it begins to be no longer such as it is seen in its brightness. Just as, then, in the illustration we both clearly distinguish the differences of the colors and cannot perceive by sense the interval between one and another, so consider that it is possible to reason about the divine doctrines too: that the particularities of the hypostases, like a bloom among those that appear in the rainbow, flash out in each of those believed in the holy Trinity, while no difference of one from another is conceived in the particularity of the nature, but the distinguishing particularities shine on each in the community of the essence. For there too, in the illustration, the essence that shone out that many-colored gleam was one, refracted by the sun's ray, while the bloom of what appeared was manifold; the argument teaching us even through creation not to be disconcerted by the statements of doctrine when, falling upon what is hard to contemplate, we grow dizzy at assenting to what is said. For just as with things that appear to the eyes experience has proved better than an account of the cause, so with doctrines that transcend us faith is better than comprehension by reasoning, teaching both what is separate in hypostasis and what is conjoined in essence. Since, then, the argument has contemplated in the holy Trinity both something common and something particular, the account of commonness is referred to the essence, while the hypostasis is the particular sign of each. 6. But perhaps someone thinks that the account given of the hypostasis does not agree with the meaning of the Apostle's writing, where he says of the Lord that he is “the radiance of his glory and the stamp of his hypostasis.” For if we have given the hypostasis to be the concurrence of the particularities of each, and it is agreed that, as in the Father there is something contemplated particularly by which he alone is recognized, so too the like is believed of the Only-begotten, how is it that Scripture here attributes the name of hypostasis to the Father alone, and calls the Son the form of the hypostasis, characterized not by his own marks but by those of the Father? For if the hypostasis is the particular sign of each one's existence, and it is agreed that the Father's particularity is to exist unbegottenly, and the Son is formed by the Father's particularities, then being called unbegotten no longer remains exceptionally to the Father alone, if the existence of the Only-begotten is characterized by what is particular to the Father. 7. But we say this: that the Apostle's argument here fulfills another purpose, with a view to which he used these words, saying “radiance of glory” and “stamp of hypostasis”; and whoever understands it exactly will find nothing contrary to what we have said, but the argument conducted with a particular thought in view. For the apostolic argument is not concerned with how the hypostases may be distinguished from one another by the marks that appear, but with how the genuineness, the absence of interval, and the conjunction of the Son's relation to the Father may be understood. For he did not say, “who is the glory of the Father” (though that is the truth), but, leaving this aside as agreed, and teaching us not to think of one form of glory in the Father and another in the Son, he defines the glory of the Only-begotten as the radiance of the very glory of the Father, providing from the illustration of light that the Son be conceived together with the Father without interval. For just as the radiance comes from the flame, yet the radiance is not later than the flame, but at the same moment the flame shone out and the light beamed forth with it, so he wishes the Son to be thought of as from the Father, yet the Only-begotten not to be separated from the Father's existence by any extension of interval, but what is from the cause always to be conceived together with the cause. In the same way, then, as if interpreting further the sense already given, he says also “stamp of hypostasis,” leading us by the hand through bodily illustrations to the understanding of invisible things. For as the body is certainly in a shape, yet the account of the shape is one and the account of the body another, and no one giving the definition of each would arrive at the definition of the other, but even if in thought you distinguish the shape from the body, nature does not admit the distinction, but the one is conceived as joined with the other; so the Apostle thinks that, even if the account of the faith teaches the difference of the hypostases as unconfused and distinct, he must also present by these words the closeness and, so to speak, natural union of the Only-begotten with the Father; not as though the Only-begotten were not also in hypostasis, but as not admitting any intermediary in his union with the Father; so that whoever has gazed with the eyes of the soul at the stamp of the Only-begotten comes also to the thought of the Father's hypostasis, without the particularity contemplated in them being exchanged or mixed, so as to attribute begetting to the Father or unbegottenness to the Son, but because it is not possible, separating the one from the other, to apprehend the one left by itself alone. For it is not possible to name the Son without also coming to the thought of the Father, since this appellation, being relative, indicates the Father along with it. 8. Since, then, he who has seen the Son sees the Father, as the Lord says in the Gospels, for this reason he says that the Only-begotten is the stamp of the Father's hypostasis. And so that the thought may be better understood, we shall take in also other words of the Apostle, in which he calls the Son the image of the invisible God, and again the image of his goodness; not because the image differs from the archetype in the account of invisibility and goodness, but to show that it is the same as the prototype, even though it is another. For the account of an image would not be preserved unless it had clearness and no variation in every respect. So he who has considered the beauty of the image comes to the thought of the archetype. And he who has grasped in his mind the form, so to speak, of the Son has formed in himself the stamp of the Father's hypostasis, seeing the latter through the former; not seeing the unbegottenness of the Father in the copy (for then it would be wholly the same and not another), but beholding the unbegotten beauty in the begotten. For just as one who has looked at the reflection of a form produced in a clean mirror has clear knowledge of the face represented, so he who has known the Son has received in his heart, through the knowledge of the Son, the stamp of the Father's hypostasis. For all that is the Father's is seen in the Son, and all that is the Son's is the Father's; since the whole Son abides in the Father and in turn has the whole Father in himself. So the hypostasis of the Son becomes, as it were, the form and face of the knowledge of the Father, and the hypostasis of the Father is recognized in the form of the Son, while the particularity contemplated in them remains for the clear distinction of the hypostases.

Julian to Basil. The proverb says, “You do not announce war”; and I would add from comedy, “O bringer of golden words!” Come, then, show it by deeds, and hurry to us. You will come as a friend to a friend. The common and continual business of affairs seems somehow burdensome to those who make it a side issue; but those who share the care of it are reasonable, as I am persuaded, and sensible, and entirely capable for everything. So I give myself some relaxation, so that I can even rest without neglecting anything. For we live with one another not with the mere play-acting of the court, which I think you have experienced until now, in which men praise while they hate with a hatred greater than they bear toward their worst enemies; but, refuting and rebuking one another when necessary with fitting freedom, we love one another no less than the closest friends. Hence we can (absit invidia) be earnest while relaxed, and not be worn out while being earnest, and sleep without fear; since even when I am awake I am awake, as is fitting, no more for myself than for all the others. Perhaps I have chattered and talked nonsense to you in this, having fallen into something foolish (for I have praised myself, like Astydamas); but I have written this to persuade you that your presence, as a man of sense, will be of some advantage to us rather than take away anything from our time. Hurry, then, as I said, using the public post. And when you have stayed with us as long as you like, you will go wherever you wish, sent on by us as is fitting.

Julian to Basil. Displaying until now the gentleness and love of mankind that have been mine by nature from childhood, I have brought into subjection all who dwell under the sun. For behold, every race of barbarians as far as the bounds of Ocean has come bringing gifts to my feet. Likewise the Sagadares who live by the … , beautiful in form and pure in shape, who have no human appearance but a savage form, these at present are rolling at my footsteps, promising to do whatever befits my kingship. And not in this alone am I engaged, but I must with all speed reach the land of the Persians and rout that Sapor, the descendant of Darius, until he becomes my tributary and subject; and at the same time lay waste the country of the Indians and the Saracens round about, until all these too take second rank as my tributaries and subjects. But you have thought yourself above the power of these, saying that you are clothed in piety but putting forward shamelessness, and spreading it everywhere that I am unworthy of the kingship of the Romans. Do you not know yourself that I am a descendant of the most excellent Constantius? And though these things are known to us about you, we have not departed from our former disposition, which you and I shared when we were still young in age. But with my clemency of mind I decree that a thousand pounds of gold be sent to me by you on my passage through Caesarea, while I am still on the public road, as I hasten with all speed to the Persian war; being ready, if you do not do this, to pull down every place in Caesarea and overthrow its fine buildings raised long ago, and to set up temples and statues in their place, so as to persuade all to submit to the emperor of the Romans and not be puffed up. So count out the gold named, weigh it on the scale, and send it to me safely by one of your trusted people, sealed with your ring, so that I, having learned … the inexorableness of the occasion … [Letter 41] Basil to Julian, in reply. 1. Small are the great deeds of your present fortune, and paltry the prowess with which you have sighed against us, or rather not against us but against yourself. As for me, I am seized with trembling when I consider that you have put on the purple, and that your dishonored head has been adorned with a crown, which, without godliness, makes your kingship not honorable but dishonorable. But you yourself, having gone back and become over-great, now that wicked demons who hate the good have drawn you to this, have begun not only to think above all human nature, but also to exalt yourself against God, and to insult the Church, the mother and nurse of all, by sending notice to me, the most insignificant of men, that a thousand pounds of gold be sent to you from me. The weight of the gold did not dismay my mind, great though it is; but it has made me weep bitterly at so swift a perdition of yours. For I reflect within myself that I myself and your Excellency learned together the sacred and best letters. Both of us went through the holy and divinely inspired Scriptures, and then nothing escaped you; but at present you have become disordered, encamped in such a mind. You knew us until yesterday, most serene one, not to live for greed of money; but now at present you have demanded that a thousand pounds of gold be sent to you from me. Be pleased, then, to spare us, most serene one: we have so little that it will not suffice for what we wish to eat today. For the art of cooks, as is natural, is idle with us, and their knife does not consort with blood. The most important of our foods, in which there is abundance, are leaves of herbs with very coarse bread and sour wine, so that our senses, not dazzled by gluttony, may not live in folly. 2. Lausus, your distinguished tribune, who is loyal to you in what you are eager about, also reported this to me: that a certain woman approached your Serenity about the loss of her son, who had been poisoned; and that it was decided by you that there should be no poisoners anywhere, and that those who exist should be put to death, or only those kept whose fight is with the wild beasts. This, rightly decided by you, seemed strange to me; for it is full of all absurdity that you try to cure the great pains of wounds with small remedies. For, having insulted God, you take care of widows and orphans in vain. The one is the act of a madman and a dangerous one, the other of a compassionate and sympathetic man. It is burdensome for us, private men, to speak to an emperor; but it will seem more burdensome to you to speak to God. For no mediator between God and men will appear. What you read, you did not understand; for if you had understood, you would not have condemned.