Letters 1–15

… as the prophetic word joined the two together. To your Holiness, then, I have given the book I worked on concerning the divine Apostle, not as to an intelligent hearer but as to a wise and true judge. Goldsmiths bring their gold to the touchstone because they want to see whether it is genuine and refined; in the same way I [brought it] to your Piety … wishing [to learn] whether it is sound or needs some purifying. But although you have read it and sent it back, you have told us nothing at all, my dear friend, of what you think of it. Your silence makes me suspect that the judge has voted against it and did not wish to grieve me by saying so. So remove the suspicion, and be good enough to tell me your verdict on the work.

I do not think that those who love warmly judge rightly the offspring of those they love, for affection steals away justice. Fathers think their plain children are radiant with beauty, and children likewise do not see their fathers' ugliness; so too a brother looks at a brother not as nature shows him but as affection does. That, I suppose, is how your Godliness has judged my writings: the love-charm brought in the verdict. The strength of love is truly very great, and it often throws a shade over faults of friends that are not small. Since you possess this wealth, my dear friend, you have praised our writings with words of commendation. I in turn ask your Piety to entreat the good Master to make the praise of my writings come true, and to show the one praised to be such as the words of those who praise him portray him.

The divine Apostle forbids comparisons of this kind. Writing to the Romans he said: "So do not judge anything before the time, until the Lord comes, who will also bring to light the things hidden in darkness and disclose the purposes of the hearts; and then each one will receive his praise from God." He did this very fittingly. We see only the deeds, but the God of all also knows the aim of those who do them, and he pronounces his verdict judging by this rather than by the deeds. So he will crown the divine Apostle, who became to the Jews as a Jew, and to those under the law as one under the law, and to those without the law as one without the law. For the benefit of the many he made use of these masks of accommodation, not embracing a flatterer's life and contriving a gain that would be his own loss, but working for the benefit of those to whom he brought his teaching.

The inspired Paul, then, as I have said, bids us wait for the divine judgment. But since we venture even on greater things and touch on theology, which is beyond mind and speech, not seeking occasions of blasphemy as the unholy heretics do, but refuting their impiety and praising the Maker as far as we are able, we would do nothing unfitting in answering your question too. In your argument you supposed an impious judge who gave two athletes of true religion a choice, to do one of two things: either sacrifice to demons or throw themselves into the sea. One of them seized the second and eagerly plunged into the deep; the other chose neither, but loathed the worship of idols as much as the first, yet did not give himself up to the waves, but waited to suffer this by force at another's hand. Having set out the case this way, you asked which of the two seems to have acted better. I think that you too agree that the second is more admirable. For when one is not commanded to do so, a person should not take himself out of life, but await either a natural or a violent death.

The Master taught this when he commanded those persecuted in one city to flee to another, and again to leave that one too and go to another city. Trained in this, the divine Apostle escaped the hands of the ethnarch, and did not keep silent about the manner of his flight, but described in his letter the basket, the wall and the window, boasting of these things and taking pride in them. For the divine law makes what seems shameful honorable. So at one time [he called himself] a Phar[isee] … not dreading death, but contending lawfully. So he appealed to Caesar, having learned in advance of the plots of the Jews; and he sent his nephew to the tribune and reported what had been plotted, not because he was clinging to the present life but because he was following the divine laws. For the Master does not want us to throw ourselves into obvious danger. He taught us this not only by words but also by deeds: he often slipped away from the murderous hands of the Jews. And the great Peter, the first of the apostles, when he was released from his chains and escaped the hands of Herod, came to the house of John who was called Mark; and after relieving their anxiety by his presence and telling them to keep quiet, he moved to another house, trying the more to escape notice by the change.

We shall find this kind of wisdom in the Old Testament too. Moses, that much-praised man, having acted bravely against the Egyptian on the one day, and learning on the next that the killing had become known, ran away, travelled a journey of many days, and reached the land of Midian. So the great Elijah, when he learned of Jezebel's threats, did not hand himself over to those who wanted to kill him, but left the inhabited land and ran into the desert. If it is holy and dear to God to flee the hands of enemies, it is surely far holier not to obey one who orders a man to become his own murderer. Neither did the Lord yield to the devil when he said, "Throw yourself down from here." But when the devil armed the hands of the Jews against him, through the scourges, the thorns and the nails, and the creation was hastening to bring utter destruction on those wicked men, he himself as Master prevented it, knowing that the passion would save the world. That is why at the time of the passion he said to the apostles, "Pray that you may not enter into temptation," and taught us to say, "And lead us not into temptation."

Let us, if you like, recast the problem a little, and we shall learn the truth more clearly. Let us take the sea out of the argument and say that the judge put a sword into the hand of each athlete, and ordered the one who would not sacrifice to cut off his own head. Who in his right mind would endure to redden his right hand with his own blood, … to become his own executioner, to make his hand his enemy, and to yield to the lawless judge who gave the order? The second, then, is far more admirable. For the first only his eagerness wins praise; the second is adorned by good judgment as well as eagerness. This is how I have decided, according to the measure of knowledge given me; but he who clearly knows both the deeds and the thoughts will show, on the day of his appearing, which one judged better.

The Creator of souls and bodies has given each of the two natures what suits it, and at one and the same time he has flooded us with good things both spiritual and sensible. Together with the all-holy feast he has given the rain we longed for so much, so that he might make the festival free of sorrow. … and addressing your Piety, we ask for the help of your prayers.

When God the Creator yoked us to cares and griefs after the sin, he gave us occasions of comfort by setting the divine feasts in between. Their themes remind us of the gifts God has given and foretell the complete release from all that pains us. Having enjoyed these good things now too, and being filled with gladness, we address your Magnificence and pay the measure of friendship according to the law of …

The Master who loves humankind has granted us to celebrate the divine and saving feast together with the zeal of the Christ-loving people, and to gather from it the fruits of spiritual benefit. Knowing, then, your Reverence's affection for us, I make this known to you by letter. For those who are well disposed toward others are glad whenever something pleasing …

I would have written long ago, if I had known long ago of the death of your … consort. Even now I write, not in order to lull [your grief] to sleep …; for those who know how to live wisely and have considered the nature of this life, reason alone is enough to scatter the great waves of grief. Even if grief reminds you of that long companionship, reason itself reads out the divine laws, and against grief's tears it sets the course of nature, the limit fixed by God, and the hope of the resurrection. Knowing this, I need not use many words; but I urge you to make timely use of your wisdom, to regard the death of the departed as a long journey abroad, and to wait for the promise of our God and Savior. For he who promised the resurrection does not lie; rather, he is the fountain of truth.

I think it superfluous to offer spiritual charms against grief once again, for the remembrance of the saving sufferings is enough by itself to quench even despondency at its height. These things took place for the sake of human nature. The Master destroyed death, not to show one body stronger than death, but to bring about through it the common resurrection and to give us this hope as a sure one. But if, even amid the divine feasts, the grief … persists, I urge your Dignity at least to read what follows the dowry clause in the marriage-settlement document, and to learn clearly that the remembrance of death came before the marriage. For those who draw up these documents, knowing the mortality of our nature and taking thought for the peace of those who will still be living, lay down what are called the conditions; and they are not reluctant to mention death before the marriage union, but declare expressly: 'If the husband should die first, it has been agreed that such and such shall happen; if the wife should undergo this lot, such and such has been agreed.' Why then are we distressed, when we learned these things before the marriage and expect them every day, so to speak? Every union must be dissolved, either by the husband dying first or by the wife departing first. This is the course life runs. Since, then, your Excellency clearly knows both divine and human things, let it scatter the despondency and [hold fast] the common hope of the pious …

Your Piety is distressed and grieved over the sentence passed on us unjustly and without a trial, but this very thing comforts me. If I had been condemned justly, I would have been pained, as having given reasonable grounds to those who condemned me. But since my conscience is clean in this matter, I rejoice and exult, and I expect the forgiveness of my other sins through this injustice. Naboth too became famous not for any other virtue, but because he endured that unjust slaughter. I ask you to pray that we may not be forsaken by God; and let him who wages war wage it. The kindness of my God is enough for all my joy; if he is with us, we despise everything painful as children's toys.

Lawgivers wrote the laws to help those who are wronged, and those who embrace the advocate's life practise the art of rhetoric so as to plead for those who need just help. Since you, my dear friend, have a share in rhetorical eloquence and in the knowledge of the laws, use your art as it should be used: strike down the wrongdoers with your art, and hold out the laws like a shield to those wronged by them; and let no wrongdoer enjoy your advocacy, even if he is a close friend. One of these is that utter villain Abrames. After living for a long time on a church estate, he then took some people from there into partnership in his wickedness, and has dared to do what he has plainly confessed. I have sent with him an account of what was done, the people he has wronged, and the most reverent … , not so that they may hand the wicked man over to the laws, but so that they may tell your learning what they have suffered, and, having moved you to share their pain, persuade you to compel the impious man to give back what he has plundered.

[Letter 11] To Flavian. The Maker and Ruler of all has made you a most brilliant luminary of the world, and the … And as the fire kindled as a beacon beside harbors shows sailors at night the mouth of the harbor, so the ray of your Holiness has appeared as the greatest comfort to those who are warred against for true religion: it has shown them the harbor of the apostolic faith, filled with gladness those who knew it, and freed from the rocks those who did not. I especially praise the giver of good things, for I have found a noble champion, who drives out human fear by the fear of God, eagerly runs risks in the front line for the doctrines of the gospel, and gladly [endures] the apostolic contests. Every tongue is now moved to praise your Holiness. Not only the nurslings of true religion admire the purity of your faith; even the enemies of the truth loudly sing of your courage. For falsehood gives way before the lightnings of truth. I write this now because I know that the most honorable and most reverent reader Hypatius readily serves the wishes of your Holiness and constantly remembers your praiseworthy achievements, master. Embracing your holy and God-loved head, we ask you to support us with your prayers, so that we may live at least the rest of our life according to the divine laws.

That greatest, adamantine tower, Job I mean, the noble athlete of virtue, was not shaken even by the onslaught of frequent griefs of every kind; rather it showed him unmoved and invincible. After the end of his contests, however, the just Lawgiver made known the reason for the trials, saying: "Do you think that I dealt with you for any other reason than that you might be shown to be righteous?" I suppose that your [Holiness] too hears these words … since it is able to bear many and varied assaults of grim events, and has not fled from them, but has shown the steadiness and firmness of its management of affairs. Seeing this courage of your sacred soul, the bountiful Master did not allow so worthy an athlete to stay hidden, but brought him into the contests, so that he might [display] your venerable … and offer your … to others as a model of benefit. As you are used to doing, then, my dear friend, win this contest too, and bear nobly the death of your son-in-law, who was my most genuine friend. Overcome by your wisdom both kinship and the memory of a character excellently and generously blended, which surpassed even the painter's art and the sculptor's skill; and dispel the assault of despondency by remembering him who wisely orders our affairs, foresees the future, and [steers all] toward what is beneficial … from the great waves of life. Rather, let us give thanks that, carried by a fair wind, he has come to anchor in harbors sheltered from the winds, and has not experienced the bitter shipwrecks of which this life is full. But I know that I am doing something superfluous in anointing for endurance the noble contestant of virtue and the trainer of other athletes. Still I write, bringing comfort to myself too through these words. For I was truly pained when I remembered that admirable companionship. But again I praised the Ruler of all, who knows what will be beneficial and steers our affairs toward it. I dictated this after writing the earlier memoranda, when one of my friends in Antioch told me of the death.

I hear of the island of Lesbos and its cities, Mitylene, Methymna and the others, but I did not know the fruit of the vine grown there. Now I have come to know it through your diligence, and I admire the whiteness of its look and the delicacy of its taste. Time will perhaps add sweetness, unless it [turns]; for [time] damages wines too, just as it damages bodies, plants, buildings and the other works of human hands. To me, however, it is completely useless, if, as you say, it makes those who drink it live long. I am no lover of long life, since the billows of this life are many and harsh. I was more glad to learn of the monk's health. In fact this concern too was pricking me, and I was blaming the physicians unjustly, for the illness needed such treatment. I have sent your Nobility a jar of honey, such as the [bees make from] the flowers …

If I considered only the nature of the misfortune that has befallen you, I too would need people to comfort me, not only because I regard your affairs, the pleasant and all the others whatever they may be, as my own, but also because I especially loved that admirable and truly praiseworthy head. But since a divine decree has moved him from here and transferred him to the better life, I am scattering the cloud of despondency from my own soul, and I urge your Dignity to overcome the feeling of despondency by reason, and in good time to apply to your soul the charm of the divine words. It is for this very reason that from our swaddling clothes we draw on the study of holy Scripture like a breast, so that whenever suffering falls on us we may apply the teaching of the Spirit as a medicine against evil.

We know that it is very hard and exceedingly painful for one who has known a much-loved person to be suddenly bereft of the one longed for, and to fall from good fortune into misfortune. But to those who have sense and use sober reason, nothing human is unexpected. For none of these things is steady or secure: not beauty, not wealth, not bodily health, not the dignity of office, nor anything else that most people admire. Some have fallen from the height of affluence into the depth of poverty; others … ; others, who prided themselves on the distinction of their family, drag the heaviest yoke of slavery. Disease damages the beauty of the body, and old age ruins it. The Ruler of all very wisely let none of these things be lasting or permanent, so that those who obtain them, fearing the changes, may [lay aside] their pride, and, knowing how they ebb and flow, may not trust in what is temporary, but may fix their hopes on the giver of good things.

Since your Excellency knows this, I ask you to consider human nature. You will find that it is mortal and received the limit of death from the beginning. For the God of all said to Adam, "You are earth, and to earth you shall return." He who pronounced the sentence does not lie, and experience bears witness. "For all have one entrance into life," as the divine Scripture says, "and a like departure"; and everyone who is born awaits the tomb. Nor do all live the same length of time: some die untimely, some when they have reached manhood, some after experiencing the miseries of old age. So too those who have taken on the yoke of marriage are parted; for either the husband must depart first or the wife must receive the end of life first. Some have received the dirges immediately after the bridal chamber, others after living together a short time. The commonness of the suffering, then, is enough to give reason a starting point for overcoming it. Besides this, that the departed became the father of children and left them grown up, that he rose to the very summit of office, and that, though in high position, he gave no room to envy but increased affection, and left behind a reputation for generosity, hatred of wickedness, gentleness, and every other excellence of character — these things are enough to comfort even those who are much enslaved to grief.

And if we also bring to mind the divine promises and the hopes of Christians, I mean the resurrection, eternal life, the life in the kingdom, and "what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has entered the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love him," what excuse for despondency will be left? Especially since the Apostle cries out plainly: "I do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, about those who are asleep, so that you may not grieve as do the rest who have no hope." I know many even of those who have no hope who have overcome grief by reason alone. It is utterly absurd that those carried by such a hope should be found worse than those who have no hope.

Let us, then, I beg you, take death as a long journey abroad. As we are used to grieving when he goes abroad but waiting for his return, so now let the separation pain us moderately (I am advising what fits our nature), but let us not mourn him as dead; rather let us rejoice with him at his departure and his removal from here, because, [freed] from what is uncertain, [he fears no change,] neither of soul, nor of body, nor of what concerns the body, but having come out of the contests he awaits the prizes. Do not let orphanhood and widowhood grieve you too much. We have a greater guardian, who lays down laws for others too to take great care of orphans and widows; and of him the divine David says, "He will uphold the orphan and the widow, and he will bring to nothing the way of sinners." Let us put our rudder into his hands, and we shall receive every kind of providential care. He will be more caring to us than any man; for this is his voice: "Will a woman forget her child, or not have pity on the offspring of her womb? Even if a woman should forget to do these things, yet I will not forget, says the Holy One." He is closer to us than father and mother, for he is our Maker and Creator. Marriage does not make fathers; fathers become fathers at his nod.

I was compelled to write this now, since my bonds do not let me hasten to you. But the most God-beloved and most holy bishop is enough by himself to provide every comfort for your most faithful soul, by word and deed, by his presence and by sharing your cares, and by his spiritual and God-given wisdom, by which I trust the storm of despondency will be lulled to rest.

I know that I am late and have been slow with words of consolation; but I did not do this without reason. I thought it useful to give way to the grief while it was violent. The wisest physicians do not apply their remedies at the height of a fever, but bring in the help of their art at the right moment. That is why I too let these few days go by, considering how extreme the pain was. If the report grieved us so very much and filled us with such great despondency, what would a man not suffer who drew the same yoke, and was joined, as the divine Scripture says, in one union of flesh with her who had become his [partner] through time and through love? But nature has caused that pain; let reason contrive the comfort, considering the perishableness of our nature, the commonness of the suffering, the hope of the resurrection, and the will of him who wisely orders our affairs. We must be content with what is governed by the ineffable wisdom and regard it as altogether beneficial. Those who use these pious reasonings [reap the fruit] of piety, being freed from excessive lamentation; but those who are enslaved to the passion gain nothing, and [grieve] the Guardian of all. Let your Magnificence, then, accept a father's advice and say that admirable word: "The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away; as it seemed good to the Lord, so it has happened; blessed be the name of the Lord for ever."