Letters 52–64

To the canonesses. 1. As much as a painful report that rang in our ears formerly grieved us, so much has the most God-beloved bishop, our brother Bosporius, gladdened us, by telling better things about your Piety. For he said that, by the grace of God, all those rumors were contrivances of men who did not know the truth about you exactly. And he added that he had found among you unholy slanders against us, such as might be uttered by those who do not expect to give account even for an idle word to the Judge on the day of his just recompense. So I thanked the Lord, both because I was myself healed of the hurt concerning you which, it seems, I had received from men's slander, and because I heard that you had put away your false suspicions about us, from what you heard our brother affirm; who, in setting forth his own position to you, surely demonstrated ours as well. For the mind of the faith is one in both of us, since we are heirs of the same Fathers who once at Nicaea proclaimed the great preaching of godliness. Of this, all the rest is entirely above slander, but the word homoousios (“same in essence”), having been taken badly by some, there are some who have not yet accepted it. One might justly blame them, and yet again think them worthy of pardon. For not to follow the Fathers, and not to count their word more authoritative than one's own opinion, is worthy of blame, as full of self-will; but again, to hold it suspect because it has been slandered by others seems in some measure to free them from blame. For indeed those who met about Paul of Samosata criticized the word as not of good sound. For they said that the word homoousios suggested the notion of an essence and of what comes from it, so that the essence, divided up, would give the name homoousios to the things into which it was divided. This thought has some reason in the case of bronze and the coins made from it; but in the case of God the Father and God the Son no essence is contemplated as older than both or lying above both; for that goes beyond impiety even to conceive. For what could be older than the unbegotten? By this blasphemy faith in the Father and the Son is destroyed; for things that subsist from one source are brothers to each other. 2. And since there were still at that time those who said that the Son was brought from non-being into being, the Fathers added the homoousios in order to cut off this impiety too. For the conjunction of the Son with the Father is timeless and without interval. The preceding words also show that this was the men's meaning. For having said “light from light,” and that the Son was begotten from the essence of the Father, and not made, they added the homoousios, showing that whatever account of light one gives in the case of the Father will fit in the case of the Son also. For true light compared with true light, as to the very notion of light, will have no variation. Since, then, the Father is light without beginning, and the Son begotten light, but each is light and light, they rightly said homoousios, to present the equal honor of the nature. For things are not called homoousios because they are brothers to each other, as some have supposed; but when both the cause and what has its existence from the cause are of the same nature, they are called homoousios. 3. This word also corrects the evil of Sabellius; for it destroys the identity of the hypostasis and introduces a perfect notion of the persons. For nothing is homoousios with itself, but one thing with another; so that the word is well and piously used, both marking off the particularity of the hypostases and presenting the absence of variation in the nature. And when we are taught that the Son is from the essence of the Father, and begotten, not made, let us not fall into bodily notions of passions. For the essence was not divided from the Father into the Son, nor did it beget by flowing out or by putting forth, as plants put forth their fruits; but the manner of the divine begetting is ineffable and inconceivable to human reasonings. For it belongs to a truly low and fleshly mind to liken eternal things to corruptible and temporary ones, and to think that God begets in the same way as bodily things do; whereas one ought to take occasions for piety from opposites: since mortal things beget thus, the immortal does not beget thus. So we must neither deny the divine begetting nor defile our minds with bodily notions. 4. The Holy Spirit is numbered with the Father and the Son, because it too is above creation; and it is ranked as we have been taught in the Gospel by the Lord, who said, “Go, baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” But whoever puts it before the Son, or says it is older than the Father, resists God's ordinance and is a stranger to sound faith, not keeping the form of glorifying that he received, but devising for himself a novelty of speech to please men. For if it is above God, it is not from God. But it is written, “the Spirit which is from God.” And if it is from God, how is it older than him from whom it is? And what madness it is, when the unbegotten is one, to call something else higher than the unbegotten! Nor is it prior to the Only-begotten; for there is nothing between Son and Father. And if it is not from God, but is through Christ, it does not exist at all. So innovation about the order involves the setting aside of its very existence, and is a denial of the whole faith. It is equally impious, then, both to bring it down to creation and to set it above the Son or the Father, whether in time or in order. These are the things I heard were being asked by your Piety; and if the Lord grants us to meet one another, perhaps we may say something more about them, and ourselves find out what we are seeking …

To the chorepiscopi. The outrageousness of the matter about which I write, in that it has been suspected and talked of at all, has filled my soul with pain; and so far it has seemed to me incredible. So let the one conscious of guilt receive this letter about it as a remedy, the one not conscious of it as a safeguard, and the indifferent, which I pray may not be found among you, as a solemn warning. What is it I mean? They say that some of you take money from those being ordained, and cloak it with the name of piety. This is worse. For if someone does evil under the pretext of good, he deserves double punishment, because he both does what is not good and uses, so to speak, the good as an accomplice to accomplish the sin. If this is so, let it not happen in future, but let it be set right; since one must say to the one who receives the money what was said by the apostles to the one who wished to give money to buy a share in the Holy Spirit: “Your money perish with you.” For the one who through inexperience wishes to buy the gift of God is lighter in guilt than the one who sells it. For a sale has taken place; and if you sell what you received as a gift, you will be deprived of the gift, as one sold to Satan. For you are bringing trade into spiritual things, and into the Church, where we have been entrusted with the body and blood of Christ. These things must not be done so. And I will tell you what the trick is. They think they do not sin because they do not take beforehand but take after the ordination. But to take is to take, whenever it is. So I urge you to put away this revenue, or rather this road leading to Gehenna, and not, by defiling your hands with such gains, make yourselves unworthy to celebrate the holy mysteries. Forgive me: first I disbelieved, then, being persuaded, I threaten. If anyone after this letter of mine does any such thing, he will depart from the altars here and seek a place where he can buy the gift of God and sell it again. For we and the churches of God have no such custom. I will add one thing and stop. These things happen through love of money; and love of money is both the root of all evils and is called idolatry. Do not, then, honor idols before Christ for a little money; nor again imitate Judas, betraying for gain a second time the one who was once crucified for us. For both the lands and the hands of those who receive these fruits will be called Akeldama.

To the chorepiscopi. It grieves me greatly that the canons of the Fathers have now lapsed, and all exactness has been driven out of the churches; and I fear that little by little, as this indifference goes on its way, the affairs of the Church may come to complete confusion. The custom of old that prevailed in the churches of God received those who serve the Church after testing them with all exactness; and their whole conduct was carefully inquired into: whether they were not abusive, not drunkards, not quick to quarrel, whether they disciplined their youth so as to be able to achieve the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. And this was examined by the presbyters and deacons living with them, who reported to the chorepiscopi; and they, having received the votes of those who truly bore witness, and having informed the bishop, so numbered the minister among the ranks of the clergy. But now, first, you have pushed us aside and do not even deign to refer things to us, and have taken all authority to yourselves; then, growing careless about the matter, you have allowed presbyters and deacons to bring into the Church whomever they wish, from an unexamined life, out of partiality, whether that of kinship or of some other friendship, the unworthy. So many ministers are counted in each village, yet not one is worthy of the service of the altar, as you yourselves bear witness, being at a loss for men at the elections. Since, then, I see the matter now going on to the incurable, especially now that most are enrolling themselves in the ministry for fear of conscription, I have of necessity come to renew the canons of the Fathers; and I instruct you to send me the list of the ministers of each village, and by whom each was brought in, and of what life he is. Keep the list yourselves too, so that yours may be compared with the documents deposited with us, and no one may enroll himself whenever he wishes. And so, if any have been brought in by presbyters after the first indiction, let them be thrown back among the laity. Let their examination be made afresh by you; and if they are worthy, let them be received by your vote. Cleanse the Church, driving away those unworthy of it, and in future examine and receive those who are worthy; … not received into the ministry.

… to be free of every bodily passion. For I am not persuaded that a man who has reached seventy lives with a woman out of passion, nor did we decide what we decided because of some disgraceful act that had taken place; but because we have been taught by the Apostle not to put a stumbling block before a brother as an occasion of falling. And we know that what is done soundly by some becomes for others an occasion of sin. For this reason, following the ordinance of the holy Fathers, we commanded that you be separated from the woman. Why, then, do you accuse the chorepiscopus and bring up an old enmity? And why do you blame us as having ears ready to accept slanders, and not rather yourself, who cannot bear to give up your intimacy with the woman? Put her out of your house, then, and settle her in a monastery. Let her be with virgins, and you be served by men, so that the name of God may not be blasphemed because of you. As long as you do these things, the countless excuses that you write in your letters will be of no use to you; but you will die useless, and give account to the Lord for your idleness. But if you dare …

To Pergamius. I am naturally prone to forgetfulness, and the great number of my occupations has come on top, increasing my natural weakness. So, even if I do not remember receiving a letter from your Nobility, I am persuaded that you wrote to us; for you would certainly not tell a lie. But for not replying I am not to blame, but the one who did not ask for the answer. Now, however, this letter comes to you, both making a defense for what is past and giving a beginning for a second greeting. So when you write to us, do not think of yourself as beginning a second round of letters, but as paying what is owed for the present one. For even if our letter is a return for what went before, yet, by exceeding it more than twofold in measure, it will fulfill both functions. You see what sophistries my idleness forces me to? But you, my excellent friend, stop bringing great charges with small words, charges that admit no excess of wickedness. For forgetting friends, and the contempt that comes from power, have all evils together. For if we do not love according to the Lord's commandment, we do not have the mark impressed on us; and if we have been filled with an empty and boastful mind and puffed up, we fall into the inescapable judgment of the devil. So if you used those words with that opinion of us, pray that we may escape the wickedness you have found in our character; but if your tongue came upon the words from some unexamined habit, we shall console ourselves, and we ask your Goodness to add the testimony of facts. For know well that our present responsibility has become an occasion of humility for us. So we shall forget you only when we forget ourselves. Never, then, make our occupations a sign of character and malice.

… whatever you say in your letters has goodness in it; for from a good heart what overflows is good. And if, through your prayers, we should be thought worthy, while we are on earth, of meeting you face to face, and of receiving from your living voice itself profitable teachings, or provisions for the present age and for the age to come, we should judge this the greatest of goods, and count it a prelude of God's favor. And indeed we were already set on this purpose, had not our most genuine and in every way loving …

To his brother Gregory. How could I fight with you by letter? How could I rebuke you as you deserve for your simplicity in all things? Tell me, who falls a third time into the same nets? Who falls a third time into the same trap? Not even a dumb animal would easily suffer this. You brought me one letter you had fabricated, as from our most reverend bishop and common uncle, deceiving me, I do not know why. I received it as from the bishop, brought by you. Why should I not? In my great joy I showed it to many of my friends; I thanked God. The fabrication was exposed when the bishop himself denied it with his own voice. We were put to shame by it; we prayed that the earth might open for us, clothed as we were with the reproach of trickery, falsehood, and deceit. Again they gave me a second, as sent to me by the bishop himself through your servant Asterius. Not even that one did the bishop himself really send, as our most reverend brother Anthimus reported to us. Again Adamantius came to us bringing a third. How ought I to receive one sent through you and your people? I could have wished to have a heart of stone, so as neither to remember the past nor perceive the present, so as to bear every blow bowed to the ground like cattle. But what am I to do with my own reason, which after one and a second trial can accept nothing without examination? I have written these things rebuking your simplicity, which, unbecoming to Christians in any case, I see is unsuited to the present time; so that at least for the future you may guard yourself and spare me; since (for I must speak to you with frankness) you are an untrustworthy minister in such matters. However, whoever the writers may be, we have replied to them fittingly. So whether you sent the letter yourself to test me, or really received it from the bishops, you have the answers. But it would have been fitting for you to be concerned about other things at present, being my brother and not having yet forgotten nature, nor regarding us in the position of an enemy; since we have entered on a life that wears out our body and afflicts our soul too, because it exceeds our strength. Yet since you have been so hostile, for this reason you ought to be present now and share in our affairs. For “let brothers,” it says, “be useful in necessities.” And if the most reverend bishops really accept a meeting with us, let them make known to us a fixed place and time, and summon us through their own people. For just as I do not refuse to go to meet my own uncle, so, if the invitation is not made in the fitting form, I will not put up with it.

To Gregory his uncle. 1. I have kept silent. Shall I always keep silent, and endure any longer to confirm against myself the most grievous penalty of silence, neither writing myself nor hearing anyone address me? For having held out until now in this gloomy resolve, I think it fitting for me too to say the prophet's words: “I have endured like a woman in labor,” always desiring either a meeting or a word, and always failing because of my sins. For I can think of no other cause for what is happening than to be persuaded that I am paying the penalty for old sins in being separated from your love; if indeed it is right even to use the word “separation” of you and any ordinary person, let alone of us, for whom from the beginning you have been in the place of a father. But my sin now, like some deep cloud settling over me, has made me forget all those things. For when I see that nothing else is accomplished by what is happening except that it brings me grief, how could I not reasonably ascribe the present state of things to my own wickedness? But whether sins are the causes of what has happened, let this be the end of my troubles; or if there was some purpose being arranged, it has surely been accomplished, for the time of the penalty has not been short. So, no longer able to contain myself, I have been the first to break silence, urging you to remember both us and yourself, who throughout life have shown more care for us than kinship would lead one to expect, and now to love the city for our sake, and not to estrange yourself from the city on our account. 2. If, then, there is any consolation in Christ, any fellowship of the Spirit, any affection and compassion, fulfill our prayer: stop the gloom here; give a beginning to brighter things for the future, yourself leading others to what is best, and not following another to what one ought not. For no feature of the body was ever considered so characteristic of anyone as peaceableness and gentleness are of your soul. It would befit such a man to draw others to himself, and to let all who come near you be filled with the goodness of your character as with the fragrance of a perfume. For even if something is resisting now, a little later it will recognize the good of peace itself. But as long as slanders find room because of our separation, suspicions must always grow toward the worse. It is not fitting even for them to neglect us, but above all for your Honor. For if we are sinning in anything, we shall be better for being admonished; and this is impossible without a meeting. But if we do no wrong, for what are we hated? This is what I put forward in my own defense. 3. What the churches might say for themselves, as they reap no good from our dissension, it is better to pass over in silence. For I use these words not to grieve you but to put an end to grief. Nothing, surely, has escaped your understanding; you would yourself discover in your mind and tell others things much greater and more complete than we perceive, since you saw before us the harm done to the churches, and grieve more than we, having long been taught by the Lord to despise none of the least. But now the harm is not limited to one or two; whole cities and peoples share in the consequences of our misfortunes. For what need is there to say what sort of report about us there will be abroad? It would befit your magnanimity, then, to leave contentiousness to others, or rather to remove it from their souls too, if possible, and yourself to overcome the troubles by forbearance. For to retaliate belongs to anyone who is angry; but to be above anger itself belongs to you alone, and to anyone like you in virtue. I will not say that one who is vexed with us pours out his anger on those who have done no wrong. So whether by your presence, by letter, by a summons to yourself, or in any way you wish, comfort our soul. For it is our prayer that your Godliness may appear in the church and heal both us and the people by your very sight and by the words of your grace. If this is possible, it is best; if something else seems good, we shall accept that too. Only be pleased to make known to us clearly what your prudence decides.

… will make his own. Indeed, I considered the man's presence a consolation both for the illnesses of my body and for the pains of my soul; and I rejoiced greatly at the letter from your Honor brought by him, which I had long desired to receive, for no other reason than that we too might not add a gloomy tale to the world, namely that there was some division between those most closely related to one another, a thing that gives pleasure to enemies and misfortune to friends, and displeases God, who set the mark of his disciples in perfect love. So I reply as I must, asking you to pray for us and in other respects to care for us as your own. And since we ourselves, through ignorance, cannot understand the meaning of what has happened, we have decided to consider true whatever meaning you yourself may deign to explain to us. It remains necessary for your magnanimity to settle the rest: our meeting with one another, a fitting time, and a suitable place. If, then, your Reverence will at all condescend to come down to our lowliness and share some conversation with us, whether you wish the meeting to take place with others or by yourself, we shall obey, having once resolved within ourselves to serve you in love and to do in every way whatever your Piety commands us for the glory of God. We did not compel our most reverend brother to tell us anything by word of mouth, because his word had not before been borne out by deeds. [Letter 61] To Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria. I have read your Holiness's letter, in which you groaned over the governor of Libya, that man of ill-omened name. And we lamented our homeland, because it is the mother and nurse of such evils; and we lamented also Libya, our neighbor, which reaps the fruit of our evils and has been handed over to the beastly character of a man who lives at once with cruelty and licentiousness. This was the wisdom of Ecclesiastes: “Woe to you, O city, whose king is a youth” (and here there is something even worse) “and whose princes eat,” not after the night is over, but in the middle of the day they act licentiously, raving after other men's wives more irrationally than cattle. The scourges of the just Judge await him, to be measured back to him in equal measure, which he himself first laid on his saints. Our church has been informed from your Godliness's letter, and all will hold him accursed, sharing with him neither fire nor water nor shelter, if indeed there is any profit in a common and unanimous condemnation for those so possessed. The letter itself, read everywhere, is a sufficient pillar of shame for him; for we do not cease showing it to all his relatives, friends, and strangers. In any case, even if the penalties do not touch him at once, as with Pharaoh, they will one day bring him a heavy and painful return.

To the church of Parnassus, a letter of consolation. Following an old custom that has prevailed through a long tradition, and showing you the fruit of the Spirit, love according to God, we visit your Piety by letter, sharing with you both the grief at what has happened and the concern for what lies at hand. About the grief we say this much: that it is time for us to look to the Apostle's precepts, and not to grieve as the rest who have no hope; not, however, to be unfeeling toward what has happened, but to feel the loss without being cast down by grief, calling the shepherd blessed in his end, since he ended his life in a rich old age and has gone to his rest with the greatest honors from the Lord. About the rest we have this advice: that you should put away all dejection, come to yourselves, and rise up to the necessary provision for the church, so that the holy God may care for his own flock and give you a shepherd according to his will, who will shepherd you with knowledge …

To the governor of Neocaesarea. “The wise man, though he dwell in a distant land, though I never see him with my eyes, I judge my friend”: it is a saying of Euripides the tragedian. So if, though meeting face to face has not yet granted us knowledge of your Magnanimity, we say that we are your friends and intimates, do not judge the word to be flattery. For we have report as the broker of our friendship, loudly proclaiming your qualities to all men. Ever since we met the most reverend Elpidius, we have come to know you so well, and have been so completely captured by you, as though we had been together a long time and had knowledge of your good qualities through long experience. For the man did not stop telling us everything about you: the magnificence of your soul, the loftiness of your mind, the gentleness of your manners, your experience in affairs, the soundness of your judgment, the dignity of your life blended with cheerfulness, the power of your speech, and all the rest that he enumerated in his long conversation with us, but which we could not write without carrying our letter beyond measure. How, then, could I not love such a man? How could I master myself so as not to declare aloud the feeling of my soul? Accept, then, this greeting, my admirable friend, offered to you from a true and guileless friendship; for our ways are far from servile flattery; and count us in the list of your friends, showing yourself to us and consoling our absence by frequent letters.

To Hesychius. From the beginning there were many things binding me to your Honor: our common love of letters, which is spread abroad everywhere by those who have experienced it, and our old friendship with the admirable Terentius. But when our most reverend brother Elpidius, excellent in all things and fulfilling for us every claim of kinship, came to talk with us and told us each of your good qualities (and he is most able, if anyone is, both to discern a man's virtue and to present it in words), he kindled in us such a longing for you that we pray that you may one day visit our old hearth, so that we may enjoy your good qualities not only by hearsay but by experience.