Orations (other than the Theological Orations) 22.1–22.15

Dear peace, sweet both as a thing and as a name, which I have just given to the people and received back: I do not know whether from all as a genuine word worthy of the Spirit, and not as public agreements broken with God as witness, so that our condemnation is the greater. Dear peace, my study and my adornment, which we hear is God’s, and whose God, God himself and very God, is named, as in “the peace of God,” and “the God of peace,” and “he is our peace”; and not even so are we abashed. Dear peace, the good praised by all but kept by few, where have you left us, such a long time now? And when will you return to us? How much I long for you and embrace you, more than other men; when you are present I cherish you, and when you are absent I call you back with many laments and tears, such as neither Jacob the patriarch shed for that Joseph, sold by his brothers and snatched, as he thought, by a beast, nor David for Jonathan his friend, a casualty of war, or later for his son Absalom. The one, torn in his fatherly heart, cried, “A beast has snatched Joseph, an evil and savage beast,” and, setting out the boy’s bloodied garment, embraced it as though it were the boy’s flesh, inflamed and consoled by the same thing. The other now curses the mountains on which the battle was: “Mountains of Gilboa,” he says, “may no rain fall on you, nor dew”; and, “How have Jonathan and power fallen?” And now he defends the parricide as though he had done no wrong, and pours a libation to the dead, perhaps grieving for his son all the more because he had raised his hand against his father. For such is a father: the one he repelled as an enemy when he made war, he longs for as a friend when he is dead; and nature, than which nothing is stronger, conquers enmity.

Pitiable too was the ark held by the foreigners; and Jerusalem razed and trampled by the Gentiles; and the sons of Zion, precious and worth their weight in gold, going into captivity, and still scattered even now, a people foreign and sojourning in the world. Terrible too are the things now done and heard: homelands uprooted, myriads falling, the earth labouring under blood and corpses, and a people of foreign tongue running through a land not its own as if it were its own. Let no one blame the cowardice of those who fight for us, for these are the men who subdued almost the whole world; it is because of our wickedness and the impiety against the Triad that prevails. These things are terrible, and beyond terrible. Who will contradict me among those who know how to judge misfortunes from what they have suffered themselves or shared with others? But nothing yet is so great as peace driven out, the comeliness of the Church stripped away, the ancient dignity dissolved, and order so far reversed that, whereas formerly we became a people from no people, and a nation from no nation, now we are in danger, from a very great people and nation, of being dissolved again into no people and no nation, as at the beginning, when you did not rule over us, and we had not yet come together into one name and rank. And truly it may be easier to bear misfortune than to keep good fortune; for we too, when we were warred against, were strengthened and gathered together by persecution, and when we were gathered together, we fell apart. Who in his right mind would not lament the present state of things? Who will find words equal to the misfortune? Robbers are at peace, whom wickedness has bound together; and those ranged together for tyranny, partners in theft, conspirators in sedition, accomplices in adultery; and also troupes of dancers, ranks of soldiers, and ships’ crews. I pass over inheritances divided equally, opposing factions in civic life, and successions of public duties and offices proceeding in order and by law, and this much-praised sophistic, or grammar, not to say philosophy, over which the ambition of the young rages and runs mad: we see it quarrel a little but mostly keep the peace. But we are disjointed and unbound, never able to come together, and no word appears to heal this disease; rather, as if we were initiators and initiates of vice, not of virtue, we supply many kindlings of division and care little or nothing for concord. And yet when those others quarrel, their quarrel does not lead to anything great, and for some of them it is better to quarrel than to agree; for who in his right mind would praise associations for evil?

[4] But if someone should ask us, “What do you honour and worship?” the answer is ready: “Love.” For “our God is love,” a saying of the Holy Spirit; and God rejoices to hear this more than anything else. And what is the sum of the law and the prophets? The evangelist would allow no other answer than this. Why then do we, the people of love, hate and are hated so? Why do we, the people of peace, wage war without herald and without reconciliation? Why do we, the people of the cornerstone, stand apart? Why are we, the people of the rock, shaken; we, the people of the light, darkened; and we, the people of the Word, full of such silence, or unreason, or madness, or I do not know what to call it? Of food, of sleep, of song, and even of the most shameful things, as they say, there is satiety, and a surfeit of everything, not only of what is painful but even of what is sweetest, and everything passes over and turns into everything else; but for us there is no limit to striking and being struck, not only with those of other opinions who differ in the doctrine of the faith (that would be less painful, and zeal is a defence of praiseworthy things, if it stays within bounds), but now even with those of the same opinion, quarrelling against the same people and for the same things (this is the most wretched, or most pitiable thing of all). And for what? For love of rule, perhaps, or of money, or envy, or hatred, or arrogance, or any of the things that we do not see even the godless suffer from. And the pretty thing is the changing of votes. When we are caught, we are pious and orthodox, and we take refuge falsely in the truth, as if we were quarrelling for the faith; and we do this one praiseworthy thing, as among evils, if it is not utterly shameful: blushing at vice, we pass over to a more venerable name, piety. “Thunderstruck and many-sided creature,” one might say, “creature of the Evil One and sophist of vice,” whoever you are who suffer this, or, to speak more truly, “most senseless one: this man was pious to you yesterday, and how is he impious today, having added nothing and taken nothing away, either in word or in deed, but standing on the same ground? He breathes the same air and looks with the same eyes at the same sun; or, if you like, when asked about numbers or measures, he gives no other answer but the same.” But today he is a fornicator to you, who yesterday was a Joseph (for strife goes even this far, like a flame running through stubble and seizing everything around it); and today he is a Judas or a Caiaphas, who yesterday was an Elijah or a John, or one of the others ranked with Christ, wearing the same girdle and clad in the same grey or black cloak which gravity of life puts on, according to my rule and reasoning. And the fair flower of lofty men, their pallor, or the orderliness and quiet of their voice, or the gravity and gentleness of their gait, yesterday we called philosophy and today vainglory; and the same power over spirits or diseases we have ascribed now to Jesus, now to Beelzebul; and the measure we use for these things is not a just one, but contentiousness and anger.

And as the same earth stands still for the healthy and the unaffected, but moves for the dizzy and the reeling, the condition of those who see passing over to what is seen; or, if you like, as the same interval between columns seems greater to those nearer and close by, and smaller to those farther off, the air being stolen by the distance and the sight joining the thicker parts together: so we too are easily deceived through enmity, and judge differently about the same things according as we are friends or not. And the times readily ordain for us many saints, and many godless men, beyond all reason, or rather make everyone wretched; not only because we look to a bad example (for vice is ready to hand even without anyone drawing us), but because we readily concede everything to everyone for the sake of this one thing, that they join in our madness. Formerly it was not safe to utter even one superfluous word, but now we revile even the most pious. Once it was not lawful even to read outside the rule, nor to call for professions (which means, it seems to me, the assent of the people); but now we use the profane as arbiters even of the ineffable, throwing holy things to the dogs and casting pearls before swine. Not only this, but we also fill their ears with our insults against one another; and we cannot even see that it is not safe to trust a weapon to an enemy, nor a word against a Christian to one who hates Christians. For what we reproached today, we were reproached with tomorrow; and the enemy fawns on what is said, not because he praises it, but because he bitterly stores it up, to vomit his poison in due time against the one who trusted him.

Why do we suffer this, my friends, and how long? When shall we sober up from our drunkenness, or take the rheum from our eyes and look up to the light of the truth? What dizziness is this? What night battle? What storm, which cannot tell the faces of friends from those of enemies? Why have we become a reproach to our neighbours, a scorn and derision to those around us? What is this ambition for evil? Whence comes this incurable sickness of ours? Or rather we are not even sick, but strong in evil, with the passion of madmen, and we delight in being consumed. And nowhere is there a word, a friend, an ally, a physician, either to apply medicine or to cut out the disease; no angel at hand, no God; but besides everything else we have shut ourselves out from God’s love for mankind. “Why, O Lord, do you stand far off?” and “Why do you turn away for ever?” And when will you visit us? Where will these things go, and where will they stop? I fear that the present things may be the smoke of the fire that is expected; that Antichrist may come upon them, and take our faults and sicknesses as the occasion for his own power. For perhaps he will not attack the healthy, nor those compacted in love; but the kingdom must be divided against itself, then the strong reason within us be tested and bound, then the goods plundered, and we suffer what we now see the enemy suffering from Christ.

“For these things I weep,” says Jeremiah in Lamentations; and I seek for my eyes fountains of tears enough for the suffering, and I call the wise women to make the lament, or to join in it; and I am pained in my belly, my senses are in turmoil, and I do not know how to lighten the pain, or with what words. Because of these things the old is passed over in silence and the new is made a comedy (for my tragedy is a comedy to our enemies); because of this we owe the churches no small debt, and have added to the theatre; and that in such a city, which is as eager to make sport of divine things as of anything else, and would sooner laugh at something praiseworthy than pass by anything laughable without laughing. So I would be surprised if they did not laugh at me too today, as I say these things, the newcomer herald of piety, teaching that not everything is to be laughed at, but that some things must be taken seriously. And why do I say laugh? It would be a wonder if I were not even brought to trial for wishing to do good. For such are our affairs. Yet I am not grieved by them: not by churches being held by others (which might perhaps sway the small-minded), nor by gold flowing to others, nor by wicked tongues doing their part, speaking evil because they have not learned to speak well.

For there is no fear that the Divine may be confined to a place, or become purchasable, so as to belong wholly to the wealthier. Nor will those who praise or blame change me (like people who mix ointment with mud, or mud with ointment, confusing the qualities by mixing them), so that I should be annoyed at their blasphemies as though I were being altered. Otherwise I would have spent much money on those who praise me, if they made me better by their praises. But it is not so (how could it be?); what I am I remain, whether reviled or admired. “A mortal swims in vain words,” says Job; and as foam flowing round a rock, or breezes round a pine or any of the thick and lofty trees, so the tongues flow round me. And at the same time I reason with myself in this way: if the accuser lies, the word touches him rather than me, even if he blasphemes me by name; but if he speaks the truth, I will blame myself rather than the speaker (for he has the matter of his speech from me; I do not have my character from him); and, passing by the voices as nothing, I will attend to myself, gaining from their wickedness only this, that I live more safely. Third, and greatest, the abuse has something magnificent in it: we are blasphemed together with God; for the same people both reject the Godhead and insult the theologian. None of these things, then, is dreadful, though most people think so. What is dreadful is that no one is any longer trusted to be faithful, or genuine and unaffected in virtue, however strong in soul and genuine in piety he may be; but one man is openly bad, while another has a mask and paint of goodness to deceive by appearances.

Some people are not thought black because of others who are, nor low-born, nor ugly, nor unmanly, nor licentious, though many are so; each is judged by himself, and neither blame nor praise is shared. But vice spreads easily to everyone, and becomes a common accusation against the whole body, not only when it belongs to many, but even when it belongs to a few. And the most dreadful thing is that it does not stop with us, but passes over to our great and venerable mystery. For of those who judge our affairs (as happens with almost all who judge the affairs of others), some are reasonably mild and humane, while others are very bitter and unfair. The one group blames us for our wickedness, acquitting the doctrine of blame; the other accuses the law itself of teaching vice, especially when they meet many wicked men among those in leadership. [11] What is this, my friends, and how long? Shall we not come to our senses, even late? Shall we not sober up? Shall we not be ashamed? Shall we not, if nothing else, guard against the tongues of our enemies, which readily spread even lies? Shall we not stop our excessive contentiousness? Shall we not learn which of the things we inquire into are within our reach, and how far, and which are beyond our power; which belong to the present time, when the confusion below darkens the mind, and which to the age to come and the freedom there; so that we may be content with the former for the time being and be purified by them, to be perfected later and to rest from our longing? Shall we not distinguish among ourselves which things are not to be inquired into at all, which in moderation, and which are to be conceded and left to the lovers of strife, however they may stand, as doing our doctrine no harm? And which must be given to faith alone, and which to reasoning as well? And for which we must fight eagerly, with reason and not with arms? For to raise our hands as well is altogether outside our fold and must be thrown off to those who hate us.

Shall we not regard this as the one definition of piety: to worship Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit, the one Godhead and power in the three, neither over-worshipping nor under-worshipping (to imitate a little myself those who are wise in these matters; for the one is impossible, the other impious), nor cutting up the one greatness by novelties of names? For nothing is greater or less than itself. With this defined, we shall also agree on the rest, we who are of the same Triad and of nearly the same doctrine and body; and we shall cut out and destroy, as a common disease, the superfluous and useless offshoots and digressions of present-day questions. Or was it not enough for me (I leave aside things farther back) to have the evil spirit of Montanus against the Holy Spirit, and the rashness of Novatus, or rather his unclean purity, enticing many by the fair appearance of the word; and the madness of the Phrygians, which continues even now, as they initiate and are initiated in rites almost like those of old; and the folly of the Galatians, who abound in many names of impiety; and the contraction of Sabellius, and the division of Arius, and the subdivision of the present sophists that comes from it, who differ from one another only as a chattering tongue differs from a lazier one? But still we too almost differ among ourselves, we who are sound on the main point, and quarrel for the same things and against the same people.

I mean the brotherly fight within the same yoke that has lately risen among us, by which both God and man are dishonoured. The one, as if he were not born for us at all, nor nailed to the cross, and clearly neither buried nor risen, as some of those who love Christ badly have thought; but honoured only there where honour has become dishonour, and for this reason cut into two sons, or composed of them. The other, not perfectly assumed or honoured, but cast aside and estranged in what is greatest, if indeed the greatest thing in human nature is being in the image, and the power of the mind. For forsooth, because the Godhead is united, the humanity must be divided, and those who are otherwise wise must lose their wits about the mind; and I am not to be saved whole, though I fell and was condemned whole through the disobedience of the first-formed man and the theft of the adversary; so that grace is lessened for God and salvation for us. Not only this, but we also have a war over men, we who have been saved by God; and our excess of factiousness is so great that we have put it at the service of others’ ambitions, and take up private enmities for the sake of others’ thrones: committing two very great sins in one, kindling their love of rule, and taking this as a prop for our own passion, like those falling over a cliff who grasp at the nearby rocks or the stronger bushes.

It would be better to make them weaker by our own quietness; for in that way we would do them a greater favour than by fighting for them. But as it is, some fight as allies and are fought for as allies, very pitiably, as it seems to me; so that the world is already split into two hostile parts, and that after being brought together with difficulty, little by little, and with the blood of many. And everything peaceful and moderate suffers at the hands of both, either despised or attacked. We who make these accusations today belong to that group, and for this reason accepted this see, so contested and so envied; no wonder, then, if we are crushed by both and removed from the middle after much sweat and toil, so that they may strike each other at close range and with all their fury, with no wall or barrier between them. To define and settle these things belongs above all to God, who binds all things together, and then to those men who are zealous for the good and know the blessing of concord; beginning from the Triad, of which nothing is so proper as oneness in nature and peace with itself; shared by the angelic and divine powers, which are at peace with God and with one another; extending to the whole creation, whose order is its freedom from strife; and dwelling in us, in the soul by the mutual following and fellowship of the virtues, in the body by the harmony and proportion of the members or elements with one another, of which the one is called beauty and the other health.

I praise also Solomon’s saying, which lays down a time for every matter, and so also for war and for peace. I will add only this: the time for both must be observed, since it is sometimes good to fight, according to his law and word; but as long as it is possible, we must incline rather toward peace, for this is something loftier and more godlike. How absurd it is to think concord best in private but not most profitable in public; to think that the household and the city best governed is the one that quarrels with itself not at all, or very little, or, if it does, is most quickly reconciled and healed, while for the common body of the Church something else is better and more fitting; that each should strive to be at peace with himself (peace within each person, and mastery over the passions, being desirable), but should not show himself the same toward others, but think his neighbour’s ruin his own glory; that God bids us forgive even those who sin against us, not seven times but many times as many, since forgiving procures our being forgiven, while we would more eagerly abuse even those who do us no wrong than receive kindness from others; and that we know so great a blessedness laid up for the peacemakers that they alone, in the ranks of the saved, are called sons of God, while we ourselves are fond of enmity and then think we are doing what is pleasing to God, who suffered for us that he might reconcile us to himself and destroy the war within us. … rather harsh, since sparing children is a father’s law. But may you find the great Judge gracious and peaceful, now and on the day of recompense, in Christ himself our Lord, to whom be glory and might for ever and ever. Amen.