書信集 第 1 章 第 41/55 段

{To Eustratios, abbot} I rejoiced upon receiving your honored letter, dearest of fathers, and upon learning that matters concerning your holiness stand thus and so [i.e., are well], since, so far as I could gather from those who had reported to me — though they were trustworthy men — I had been grieved, having heard of the hypocritical signature.

And receive me, most honored one, as I speak with somewhat greater boldness.

It is not without cause that, having been seized by an imperial officer, you remained unharmed, that is, released.

For this is what gives rise to the rumors now being bruited about.

None, therefore, of those who have spoken out boldly is acknowledged to have remained free of imprisonment, or at the very least of exile, that is, banishment.

But those who fall outside of these are within the number of those who have fallen away — lest, by putting it too harshly, I cause grief.

Or have you not clearly perceived, O most perceptive one, the harsh persecution of Leo, the one named after a wild beast? Whose Ahab-like hand seized even those from another realm, and put them to death and destroyed them — the more humane course being to imprison them after bitter scourging — let alone those under his own authority.

But if you yourself, after your arrest, suffered none of such things — forgive me, holy one — then you were merely despoiled.

And do not tell me that your own churches are kept safe, and that the sacred images remain intact, along with the liturgical commemoration of our most holy patriarch —

for this is what others too, though led away, plead in argument.

These things cannot have been preserved safe, unless indeed a betrayal of the true stand of confession has occurred.

What is the benefit, if we, who both are and are called the temple of God, have made ourselves useless and taken pains only to preserve lifeless buildings? The icon of Christ does not fall, nor that of the Theotokos, nor that of any saint;

for the honor remains with them as it passes to the prototypes; but those who suppose they are destroying the icons fall themselves, and indeed so also do those who, out of regard for sparing these possessions, have abandoned their boldness of confession and the affliction that comes through it.

Alas! Some are dying, others are being driven beyond the borders, others are being scourged, others imprisoned; the mountains and the deserts, the rocks and the caves hold those blessedly persecuted — and are we to remain sitting at home, thinking to remain unharmed? By no means!

Let all the world's material substance that seems valuable perish; let the manifest harm to the soul — which every pretext-maker has incurred — be reckoned first.

These things I have said out of love and by way of reminder — namely, that we are worthy to come under censure, and that in a time of orthodoxy nothing ought to be left untouched.

And it is well to proceed by way of humility and heal what has grown weak, rather than by refusing to accept blame and thereby bringing upon ourselves greater accusations.

{To my child Laurence} We have heard, child Laurence, of the tragedy wrought by the evil demon in the town of Antisarchus;

and we groaned greatly over it, both according to the common law of human affection, and because the one who hanged himself is a kinsman of our brother Athanasius the protopresbyter (moved by whom I write this).

He was a man held in honor, more distinguished than the natives of that place, self-sufficient in his livelihood, a prudent man, persevering in prayers and supplications and excelling in the rest of the conduct of his life; and although no untoward circumstance had occurred — the sort of thing from which one is often turned aside a little from duty — yet, amid an undisturbed state of affairs, he wrought so great an evil, making use of a noose.

O, and again I will say it, what a report to be dreaded!

Such are the devil's contrivances;

he was a murderer from the beginning, as the Lord said; it was he who first persuaded Ahithophel, and then Judas, to hang themselves;

and he does not cease, even to this day, to accomplish the same thing in those who are persuaded by him.

I think that he plunders man in two ways, as we have come to know by experience;

either by an inconsolable pain of heart, or by an irrational desire, having darkened and perverted the mind;

...so as to ensnare him — thus also in the case of the halter he made death seem sweet, darkened the mind, and brought the hanging to completion.

Woe is me, what a dragon he is, and with how many sorceries he murders men each time!

This one in this way, another in that, and there is no one who will escape his snares without the help of God — may that help be granted, with fear and trembling, to the one who lives faithfully according to his commandment.

But let our discourse turn to the pressing matter.

You made known that all the people of the village together turn away from his household, that is, from his wife and children, neither touching nor coming near them, even refusing to give them a loan of bread.

Now if the family of the man who hanged himself say that the act of hanging is a good thing, and that they too would gladly do the same, then the villagers do well to keep away — though not even in that case immediately;

for it is necessary first to teach, to enlighten, to exhort them to flee from ruin;

for this is the mark of Christians, this the mark of those who love the brethren: that the Lord himself, though he knew what Judas was about to do, tried to dissuade him with many kindnesses and corrective prophecies, pronouncing the 'woe to him' and saying that 'it would have been better for that man had he not been born' — even though the wretched man did not understand.

But if, as you say, they also lament him who ended his life like Judas, and pray that every Christian be spared that lot, and are thrown into utter dismay at unbearable grief, and seek consolation — what is this that you describe, but that the villagers oppose Christ and open a door to the devil for the destruction of those deserving of comfort? Woe to those who act thus, for they are fellow-workers of the devil.

Rightly, then, did the lord Macarius, our spiritual father, exhort such persons; rightly also did he dine in that household, and let no Christian hesitate to do the same.

But since there is talk of a penance — not that they are culpable (for, it says, each one shall die for his own sin, and children shall not die for their fathers, nor the reverse), but for the sake of consolation — let them abstain from meat for one Lenten period, and clearly also from partaking of the holy mysteries.

But let them enter the church to pray, remaining only until the dismissal of the catechumens; and let them give the wretched man's rightful portion to the poor;

for it is by no means lawful for an offering or a liturgy to be made on his behalf, but let almsgiving be done;

for this benefits even an unbeliever, as Chrysostom says; and besides, Judas's silver, the price of the hanging, was given for the burial of strangers.

Let them also plant the sign of the life-giving cross at the place of the hanging, since the cross itself was set up at the Place of the Skull, because there lay the skull of the murdered Adam, from which the place also took its name.

So much we have to say from what is set down in writing; exhorting the household of the sufferer to cease from excessive grief and, through thanksgiving and good works, to attend upon the good God; and exhorting the villagers, having set aside their wicked discrimination, to hold as fellow communicants, as before, the members of that household, in Christ Jesus our Lord.

{To the brothers in the city} I thought it timely now, as brother Leo is coming to you, to write in common to all, blessed brothers and fathers, reminding you further of the things pertaining to salvation, since even in this absence and exile I am fearful and trembling, both under my own burden of sins and concerning the care and protection I owe toward you;

for I fear and am afraid lest you who dwell in the city, being more prone to fluctuation, fall into some lapse, and lest, through a brief lack of watchfulness, we utterly lose all the good deeds gathered through many labors and contests, both before the persecution and during it.

I hear of instability, of shifting about, of one moving away from another and from brother and from place; and, what is more pitiable, of one living alone, and another having his cell in a house where there are women;

of some who have bought slaves and live together with them, and indeed of others buying up fields besides.

How shall I not groan over these things, and how shall I not fear failing to proclaim the ordinance of God? Why then, brothers, have you lost your senses? Why have you, the servants of the Lord, become servants of the passions? Why do you, who are under the law, tolerate acting lawlessly? Why do you, the attendants of Christ, sons who provoke him, not turn away from this wicked way of life, not settle in places free of scandal, not live together two by two or even more, in apostolic fashion? Woe to the one who is alone!

Woe to him who keeps company with women! Woe to the slave of his own slave!

Woe to the Gehazi who, having bought fields and vineyards, has inherited the leprosy of Naaman!

Are these not divine sayings — am I bringing forward anything of my own? When the persecution was raging, one had some reasonable excuse, out of necessity, for falling into some of the things I have enumerated, and the necessity arising for the sake of the faith would preserve the one found in such straits;

but now no one is persecuting, nor is anyone preventing us from dwelling properly and being together with one another, at least two by two;

for you are condemned by your very own selves — you who live evilly, by those among you who live rightly according to the rule.

Is not the present disorder a clear proof of your failure to run together in unity during this time of peace? Come to your senses, I beg you, my holy brothers, partakers of the heavenly calling;

if you do not correct yourselves, you ought not to be called by this name, but by its opposite — which may it never be!

These things I solemnly testify before God and the elect angels;

if anyone does not correct himself after persisting to the appointed limit of a certain time, he is barred by God from partaking of the holy mysteries, according to the authority which the Lord has given me among you.

This word is for building up, and not for tearing down.

But you, my brothers, act rightly as sons of obedience, so that you may both serve God and also rescue wretched me from the death of sin, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory together with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

{To John of Sardis} For some time we have heard that your paternal holiness has been ill, and just now that you were all but given up for dead, and we in our lowliness were so greatly troubled and moved together with grief, that we were impelled to hasten and reach you there in person, and to take in with our own eyes, rather than by hearsay, that dreaded report;

but this proved impossible on account of present circumstances.

Therefore we were compelled, as it were, to fly to you by means of this letter, as though in the body, and to see you — the good father, the genuine friend, the noble martyr of the truth;

since indeed for her sake you have been both exiled and held bound in custody, and even before this you became, to speak in apostolic terms, a spectacle both to angels and to men, on the day when your sacred head was cast down to the ground by the impious in the presence of that Caiaphas-like council.

O, what is happening among us? Why do you, the pillar of the Church, hasten to depart from things here? Remain with us still — remain! — suffer hardship together with the gospel, as a good soldier.

Do you see how the war still rages, how we are struck and how we strike back, for the sake of the word? Yes, we implore you, remain;

ask the Christ whom you have confessed and still confess that you worship as depicted in human likeness, and he will hearken to your petition.

But if you must in any case depart, providence so ordaining, you yourself will indeed go forth, we know well, bearing away the prize of confession; yet for us, may you, through your intercessions, render the good God gracious to us, and moreover hasten him to visit his own Church.

{To Niketas the abbot} Not untimely, I think, is the present letter to your paternal holiness, not only because it fulfills the duty of love, but also because it makes manifest something grievous lodged in our humble soul;

and, if you permit, give heed to what is said.

After returning from your holy fathers' gathering at Akritas, I met with our brother Athanasius, relating each of the things discussed in the Lord, and adding that the abbot of Medikion, too, commends Maximinus for his most excellent change of heart, that is, his defense and confession.

But he shook his head in refusal, and I demanded the reason for his refusal, and he said:

'...to commune with them, and that this is a matter of pastoral economy involving a relaxation of strictness, but not a falling away from the truth.'

What is this, O most honored father? Does he not confess, to put it in outline, that 'out of consideration for my old age I have destroyed my own soul, by communing upon the denial of the icon of Christ, and of the Theotokos, and of all the saints';

for this is the icon-fighting heresy, and in it I was herded together with the impious; and thereafter I remained unmolested in my monastery until the end, while the world around us was being shaken? Does he not confess and lament in this way — instead he utters those mumbled excuses, and, as the expositor says, even brings forward in his own defense a certain Dianios among the fathers who did the same thing, whom, he says, Saint Basil received back, since Basil also received the father of Gregory the Theologian.

O righteous indignation, both of our sacred high priest and of the whole company of confessors!

For if that was neither communion nor a fall, what use were the struggles and contests of those men, their bloodshed and hardships? And why was he himself rebuked? And why does he leave the monastery? And why is he barred from the sacred ministry? Oh, and again I say it — what divine indignation!

Because, holding the truth in unrighteousness, he supposes that the fathers too suffered the very same thing as he.

Come then, let us examine this irrational argument:

'I partook, but I did not commune.'

For the renowned among the theologians says somewhere thus:

'I partook of the image, and did not keep it.'

He partakes of my weakness, that he might both save the image and make the flesh immortal.

He therefore shares in a second communion, one far more paradoxical than the first.

Behold, 'I partook' has been shown to mean nothing other than 'to commune.'

For partaking and communion are the same thing: the one is named from being shared in, the other from those who partake being made common with one another.

And so the divinely-inspired Apostle says:

'The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of the Lord? For we, though many, are one bread, one body.'

'For we all partake of the one bread.'

Behold, here too the light of the world has shown that participation is communion; and no one who still possesses his wits could deny that participation means partaking.

As therefore the divine bread, partaken of by the orthodox, makes all who partake into one body, so also the heretical bread, making those who partake of it partners with one another, presents one body opposed to Christ — and the vain talker talks vainly in vain.

But if it is said that his mind, when he was partaking, was not in accord with what was being done, this is all the more a matter for condemnation: that, though knowing he was acting wrongfully, he nevertheless sinned knowingly, not fearing him who destroys both soul and body by casting into Gehenna, but rather him who only strikes the body for a season.

What good do these irreconcilable things serve? Why does he suppose that the saints, who are his very opponents, are his advocates? Already it stands as fixed doctrine for them that a mere nod or shake of the head, in confession or in denial, suffices to fulfill the act; and they did not even admit a mere pretense — for the sake of testimony — of so much as touching the sacrificial victim, whether one offered to idols, or even one privately slaughtered.

And the examples of this are countless.

What else, then, was there in the preceding persecution but this? The sacred patriarch was cast down, banished, confined to an obscure place.

A rival throne warring against Christ; a council of those who set truth aside; an anathematizing of the holy Council of Nicaea; a public proclamation of that which had long been Antichrist's own; exiles of holy bishops and abbots, of monks and nuns.

Blood being poured out, untimely deaths, imprisonments, starvations, plunderings;

and, more fearful still — seen and heard alike — the venerable icon of Christ insulted and trampled underfoot, and likewise that of the Theotokos and of all the saints; churches and altars reduced to ruins; holy things profaned and given over to fire.

Since these things stand thus, is not everyone who has communed — that is, partaken — of the venom-bearing bread a denier of Christ, an outcast, unholy, unless he be recalled through repentance? Such is the truth, and for this the martyrs were slain, and for this all who held fast endured everything.

'And as many as walk according to this rule,' says the Apostle, 'peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God.'

For the case of Dianius, and of the father of the Theologian, and any other similar case, was a theft wrought by heretics through a cunningly fabricated document — those holy men having been deceived through their simplicity by sophistry, and having signed not out of any fear (far from it!).

Wherefore, as soon as they recognized the deceit, immediately came their retraction and their bold defense.

These things, holy father, if it be permitted you, relate to the man, that, knowing the truth, he might cast away that unjust writing and take his place among the devout — seeing that he is both an old man and one who has been reproved, and for this very reason has left the renowned monastery.

But if not, then at least entreat on our behalf that we may have no communion with the man in this matter, if indeed he does not repent.

{To Elias, my child} Who is it, O man, that has compelled me to write to you? Clearly God, who has appointed me over you as shepherd and lawgiver, to whom I shall give account concerning you, as for all your brothers.

You renounced the world of your own free will; you submitted with ready obedience; then Satan did you harm, tearing you away from the divine bond.

Again, by the mercy of God you were reunited, and again, by the working of a demon, you leapt away.

Then again you came and made confession, promising security for the time to come; and when there came a return from exile under Nicephorus, you did not come together with the rest, but remained by yourself, enticed by the serpent — and this even to the present, now the fourth ruler after Nicephorus.

How long, wretched one, will you wallow in the mire of sin? How long will you not cease behaving shamefully before God and men? Is there no death? Is there no judgment? Will you not render an eternal penalty, the mere thought of which subdues the soul and turns it back to repentance? Come to your senses, O man, be recalled, I beseech you.

Cease building houses after the manner of the world, you who have torn down the house of your own soul.

Leave off building as a layman does, you who are being fashioned and worked upon by Satan.

Do not make excuses of this and that; no one shall deliver you out of the hand of the Lord.

Do not say, having sinned, 'I will not bear the rebukes.'

For I, the humble one, call you thus in hope of your return.

If I am a father, I shall heal you gently, with compassion, with tender affection.

Only will it; only move; break asunder the bonds of death that hold you fast.

Near at hand is the help of God, and the angel who guards your life will go before you.

There will be joy in heaven; the devil will lament; I, the wretched one, shall leap for joy, having found my lost sheep — and so too will your brotherhood.

But if not, you shall become prey to the devil, an heir of that 'woe.'

From which may you be delivered, by obeying, and by coming together with your brother Silas.

{To Democharis, the widow} From the day when the death of the blessed general was announced to us until now, though we made many attempts, we did not manage to write to your honored self.

And even now, in writing, we are able neither to benefit you in any way nor to lighten the burden of your grieving heart (for what word could ever be found capable of healing so great a pain?), but only that we might make plain that we too have shared in this grief — not only over him who has gone to dwell with the Lord, in that a good and pious man, a champion of orthodoxy and a contender for peace, has left us (oh, what a calamity!), but also over you, who have been left desolate of your spouse's support, all the more since you loved your husband so dearly.

Thus, then, our discourse has acknowledged the affliction to be beyond consolation.

But since you are not untaught of the divine decree, that you are earth and to earth you shall return, and again, that you should not grieve over those who have fallen asleep, as do the rest who have no hope — since they are to be brought by God together with Jesus in the resurrection — we exhort and entreat you to empty yourself of the excess of your grief, to take a little consolation, to come to yourself, to gladden your soul; since you have children, and a great household stands before you, and unless your mind should recover from the mastery of this affliction, you could never rightly manage and direct these things.

And above all, what is here spoken will also profit that blessed man himself:

could anything be more worthy of eager pursuit than this? What, then, remains, O lady? Give glory to the good God; utter the words of Job: 'The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away; as it seemed good to the Lord, so it came to pass.'

May there arise from this, truly, the greatest glory, and may you show yourself to have been the fitting spouse of so well-instructed a man.

For that man was both a man of true knowledge and wise, and an instructor of the uninitiated.

As therefore he was a good example to men, be also yourself an example to women, turning away from excessive mourning and showing that God is your protector — he who brought you out of non-being into being, and led you to the flower of your age, and joined you to so great a man, and who, having now put you asunder, will unite you again through the resurrection.

So consider this matter to be nothing more than a journey abroad.

Would you not have borne this deprivation, if an earthly king had ordered it? Bear then, my lady, this one too, which the only true King of all has commanded.

Yes, we implore you, and indeed we believe that you will receive him back on that day, if you keep your widowhood in the Lord and rear those fine children in the best manner.

These same children, too, we address, and in like manner we exhort you to bear the loss of their father, and to let them be shaped by their mother's guidance unto all uprightness.

{To Theophilus of Ephesus} I received into my hands the letter which your sacred eminence sent to Athanasius, our brother, and having read it, I was grieved, my most holy father, with no small grief — first, because among us ourselves, who rightly divide the word of truth against the now-raging heresy of the iconoclasts, quarrels arise and schisms spring up; and next, because I, the least of all, am compelled to compose this letter in a spirit of contention.

But let your greatness bear with me.

For the matter concerns truth, than which nothing is more to be preferred nor more to be revered.

What, then, is the matter contained in the letter, over which there is this grief? 'We,' he says, 'have advised neither that the Manichaeans be put to death nor that they not be put to death.'

But if we had indeed permitted it, we would have done the greatest of the finest things.

What are you saying, O man honored of God? The Lord forbade this in the Gospels, saying:

'No, lest while gathering the tares you also root up the wheat along with them.'

'Let them grow together until the harvest.'

And would you yourself say that granting permission to uproot them is the greatest of the finest things? And that by 'tares' he meant the heretics — clearly both those of that time and those to come afterward, that is, all of them together — let us hear Chrysostom, who interprets this very passage:

Why then does the Master forbid it, saying, 'Lest you root up the wheat along with them'? This he said in order to forbid wars from arising, and bloodshed and slaughters;

for heretics ought not to be put to death, since thereby an implacable war would be brought into the whole civilized world.

And what else does he mean by 'lest you root up the wheat along with them' than this: that if you were to take up arms and slaughter heretics, it would be inevitable that many of the saints too be cast down together with them.

Which is indeed what has come to pass in our own times.

For indeed bloodshed and slaughters have filled our world, and many of the saints have perished along with the rest.

Yet the word of the Lord has not failed, as is acknowledged by many.

And what shall we say about not permitting heretics to be killed? Indeed, we are not even permitted to curse them.

For let us again hear the Lord speaking to holy Carpus, as has been shown through the voice of the all-wise Dionysius, who says:

'For I am ready to suffer again on behalf of men who are being saved, and this is precious to me, rather than that other men should sin.'

'But see whether it is good for you to exchange your dwelling with God and with the good and man-loving angels for a dwelling in the pit with the serpents.'

At the time of his Passion, [Christ,] speaking to his own Father, [said]:

'Father, forgive them their sin;'

'for they do not know what they are doing.'

But as for your Holiness's claim to have these saints in agreement with it on this question — forgive me, Father, but we do not rightly grasp the sayings of the saints, and so we find ourselves waging war against the fathers, or rather, against God himself.

For the divine Cyril, in his work Against Julian, put forward that saying in accordance with what had been legislated of old, not setting the old law up as a rival to the new — God forbid!

For he was not ignorant that whatever the Law says, it speaks to those under the Law; nor was he ignorant of the Savior's comparison, in which he says:

'It was said to those of old, thus; but I say to you, thus.'

So then, as the god-revealing Dionysius says to a certain Demophilus: 'We will not accept your unenviable impulses, even if you should invoke Phinehas and Elijah ten thousand times over.'

For when Jesus heard these things, the disciples who at that time had no share in the meek and good Spirit did not please him.

For indeed our most divine lawgiver [teaches us] to instruct with meekness those who set themselves against the teaching of God.

For those who are ignorant ought to be taught, not punished.

Let us then give ear, O blessed one, to what the sacred Paul, the sun of all that is under heaven, has also said.

And so the God-bearing Ignatius also says:

'Those who hate God, then, we must hate, and we must be consumed with zeal against his enemies; yet we must not persecute them or strike them, as do the nations that do not know God;'

'but if we must not even strike them, how much less may we kill them?'

Now since you, my lord, have also taken up holy Symeon of the Wondrous Mountain as agreeing with you — do not suppose this, O priest, [namely] that he is at odds with Christ or with the teachers who came before him; but rather, what was the case? His word of appeal to the emperor of that time concerned a nation that was wounding the Christian people, so that the Christians might not be plundered by the Samaritans.

And this is well; and now we too urge this very same thing: that the emperors should make war on the Scythians and the Arabs who are putting the people of God to death, and not spare them.

This is one thing, and that is another: the one concerns enemies at war, the other concerns heretics under one's own authority.

As for what is said about John the Faster, the president of Constantinople, it does not seem true to me that he gave permission for the sorcerers to be impaled, but rather that he merely acquiesced [and did not prevent it].

For they themselves are murderers, and those in power must not be prevented from doing to them what the Roman laws prescribe.

'For it is not without reason,' [the Apostle] says, 'that they bear the sword; they are avengers to him who does evil.'

But against those whom the Lord has forbidden, it is not right to permit this.

For rulers of bodies have the power to punish those apprehended in bodily offenses, but not those [caught] in matters of the soul.

For that belongs to the rulers of souls, whose instruments of correction are excommunications and the other penalties.

Thus, then, O lord, do we, the lowly ones, think.

And indeed — to speak somewhat foolishly — we have also spoken with boldness: to our most blessed patriarch, that the Church does not avenge herself by the sword (and he nodded his assent); and to the emperors who carried out the slaughter — to the first, that God was not pleased by such a killing; and to the second, when he demanded our advocacy for the killing, that my head would sooner be taken off than that I should agree with him in this.

These things, then, [come] from us sinners.

But you, most holy ones, if you have read some other gospel, which we do not know, well and good;

but if not, consider well what the Apostle declares.

{To the Monks of Myele} The falling asleep of our beloved brother Dionysius already received its appointed limit by the determined counsel of God before the foundation of the world;

but as for you, brothers, may the Lord do good to you, because you received him when he fell ill while passing through, into the monastery that is yours, and kept him there until he laid aside his tent of flesh on earth and flew up to heaven.