(The writer of the article on Gregory of Nyssa in the Dictionary of Biography supposes her to have been his wife, but provides no evidence for this beyond the ambiguous expression in this letter, which speaks of her as the true consort of a priest. However, she is expressly called his sister in the same letter. Some writers have imagined that she was the wife of Gregory Nazianzen himself, but there is no evidence to show that he was ever married. The date of her death is uncertain, but it was probably after A.D. 381. It would seem that the term consort might have a general application to those who shared in the same work, and consequently the Benedictine editors regard Theosebia as a deaconess of the Church of Nyssa.)
(The writer of the article on Gregory Nyssen in the Dict. Biogr. supposes her to have been his wife, but produces no evidence of this beyond the ambiguous expression in this letter which speaks of her as the true consort of a priest, but on the other hand she is expressly called his Sister in the same letter. Some writers have imagined that she was the wife of Gregory Nazianzen himself, but there is no evidence to show that he was ever married. The date of her death is uncertain, but it was probably subsequent to a.d. 381. It would seem that the term Consort might have a general application to those who shared in the same work, and consequently the Benedictine Editors regard Theosebia as a Deaconess of the Church of Nyssa.)
I had started out in great haste to come to you, and had gotten as far as Euphemias, when I was delayed by the festival you are celebrating in honor of the Holy Martyrs. This was partly because I could not take part in it due to my poor health, and partly because my arrival at such an unsuitable time might be inconvenient for you. I had set out partly to see you after such a long time, and partly to admire your patience and wisdom (for I had heard about it) at the death of your holy and blessed sister. I wanted to see how you, as a good and perfect man, a minister of God who understands the things of God and humanity better than anyone, regard as a very light matter what others would find most heavy—namely, to have lived with such a soul, and to send her away and store her up in the safe storehouses, like a sheaf from the threshing floor gathered in its proper season, to use the words of Holy Scripture. And this happened at such a time that she, having tasted the joys of life, escaped its sorrows through the shortness of her life, and before she had to wear mourning for you, was honored by you with that beautiful funeral honor which is due to someone like her. I too, believe me, long to depart—if not as much as you do (which would be saying a lot), yet only a little less than you. But what should we feel in the presence of a long-established law of God which has now taken my Theosebia (for I call her mine because she lived a godly life, since spiritual kinship is better than physical)? Theosebia, the glory of the church, the adornment of Christ, the helper of our generation, the hope of women; Theosebia, the most beautiful and glorious among all the beauty of the brethren; Theosebia, truly holy, truly the consort of a priest, of equal honor and worthy of the Great Sacraments; Theosebia, whom all future time shall receive, resting on immortal pillars—that is, on the souls of all who have known her now and all who shall come hereafter. And do not be surprised that I invoke her name so often, for I rejoice even in remembering the blessed one. Let this—much said in few words—be her epitaph from me and my word of consolation for you, though you yourself are quite able to console others in this way through your wisdom in all things. Our meeting (which I greatly desire) is prevented by the reason I mentioned. But we pray with one another as long as we are in the world, until the common end toward which we are drawing near overtakes us. Therefore we must bear all things, since we shall not for long have either joy or suffering.
I had started in all haste to go to you, and had got as far as Euphemias, when I was delayed by the festival which you are celebrating in honour of the Holy Martyrs; partly because I could not take part in it, owing to my bad health, partly because my coming at so unsuitable a time might be inconvenient to you. I had started partly for the sake of seeing you after so long, and partly that I might admire your patience and philosophy (for I had heard of it) at the departure of your holy and blessed sister, as a good and perfect man, a minister of God, who knows better than any the things both of God and man; and who regards as a very light thing that which to others would be most heavy, namely to have lived with such a soul, and to send her away and store her up in the safe garners, like a shock of the threshingfloor gathered in due season, Job 5:26 to use the words of Holy Scripture; and that in such time that she, having tasted the joys of life, escaped its sorrows through the shortness of her life; and before she had to wear mourning for you, was honoured by you with that fair funeral honour which is due to such as she. I too, believe me, long to depart, if not as you do, which were much to say, yet only less than you. But what must we feel in presence of a long prevailing law of God which has now taken my Theosebia (for I call her mine because she lived a godly life; for spiritual kindred is better than bodily), Theosebia, the glory of the church, the adornment of Christ, the helper of our generation, the hope of woman; Theosebia, the most beautiful and glorious among all the beauty of the Brethren; Theosebia, truly sacred, truly consort of a priest, and of equal honour and worthy of the Great Sacraments, Theosebia, whom all future time shall receive, resting on immortal pillars, that is, on the souls of all who have known her now, and of all who shall be hereafter. And do not wonder that I often invoke her name. For I rejoice even in the remembrance of the blessed one. Let this, a great deal in few words, be her epitaph from me, and my word of condolence for you, though you yourself are quite able to console others in this way through your philosophy in all things. Our meeting (which I greatly long for) is prevented by the reason I mentioned. But we pray with one another as long as we are in the world, until the common end, to which we are drawing near, overtake us. Wherefore we must bear all things, since we shall not for long have either to rejoice or to suffer.