Tag: Letters — Division III — Miscellaneous Letters

(When Saint Gregory was consecrated Bishop of Nyssa, the Imperial Throne was occupied by Valens, an enthusiastic Arian whose mind was set on destroying the Nicene Faith. To achieve this goal, he appointed a man named Demosthenes, a former clerk of the Imperial Kitchen, to be Vicar of the civil Diocese of Pontus. An old quarrel with Basil had made this man hostile to Gregory, and after harassing him in various minor ways for some time, he arranged in A.D. 375 for a Synod to be summoned to investigate some allegations of irregularity in his consecration and to try Gregory on some trivial charges of misusing Church funds. Gregory was unable to attend this Synod, which met at Ancyra, because of an attack of pleurisy. Another Synod was then summoned to meet at Nyssa itself. However, Gregory refused to appear and was deposed for being contumacious. Valens then banished him, and he seems to have fallen into very low spirits, almost into despair at the apparent triumph of the heretical party. The three letters that follow shed some light on his condition at this time. They were written in response to letters of his that are now lost, and their purpose was to comfort him in his trouble and to encourage him to take heart again in the hope of better days coming. This more cheerful tone was justified by events, for when Valens died in A.D. 378, the exiled Bishops were restored by Gratian, and Gregory was returned to his Episcopal Throne, to the great joy of the faithful of his Diocese.)

(When S. Gregory was consecrated Bishop of Nyssa the Imperial Throne was occupied by Valens, an ardent Arian, whose mind was bent on the destruction of the Nicene Faith. He appointed, with this object, one Demosthenes, a former clerk of the Imperial Kitchen, to be Vicar of the civil Diocese of Pontus. An old quarrel with Basil had made this man unfriendly to Gregory, and after persecuting him in various small ways for some time he procured, a.d. 275, the summoning of a Synod to enquire into some allegations of irregularity in his consecration, and to try Gregory on some frivolous charges of malversation of Church funds. Gregory was unable to attend this Synod, which met at Ancyra, on account of an attack of pleurisy; and another was summoned to meet at Nyssa itself. Gregory however refused to appear, and was deposed as contumacious. Thereupon Valens banished him, and he seems to have fallen into very low spirits, almost into despondency at the apparent triumph of the heretical party. The three letters which follow throw some light upon his state at this time. They were written in answer to letters of his now lost, and their object was to comfort him in his trouble and to encourage him to take heart again in the hope of a good day coming. This more cheerful tone was justified by the event, for on the death of Valens, a.d. 378, the exiled Bishops were restored by Gratian, and Gregory was replaced in his Episcopal Throne, to the great joy of the faithful of his Diocese.)

Do not let your troubles distress you too much. The less we grieve over things, the less painful they become. It is nothing unusual that the heretics have revived and are taking courage from the favorable season, and are emerging from their hiding places, as you write. They will make noise for a short time, I know, and then will hide themselves again, defeated by both the truth and by circumstances, and especially the more we entrust the whole matter to God.

Do not let your troubles distress you too much. For the less we grieve over things, the less grievous they are. It is nothing strange that the heretics have thawed, and are taking courage from the springtime, and creeping out of their holes, as you write. They will hiss for a short time, I know, and then will hide themselves again, overcome both by the truth and the times, and all the more so the more we commit the whole matter to God.

(This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil and can be found in his works as well as in Gregory's. However, with only one exception, the manuscripts attribute it to Gregory.)

(The following letter is sometimes attributed to Basil, and is found in his works as well as in those of Gregory. The mss. however, with only a single exception, give it to the latter.)

You give me pleasure both by writing and remembering me, and even greater pleasure by sending me your blessing in your letter. But if I were worthy of your sufferings and your struggles for Christ and through Christ, I would have been counted worthy to come to you, to embrace Your Piety, and to learn from your patience in your sufferings. However, since I am not worthy of this, being burdened with many afflictions and obstacles, I do the next best thing. I write to Your Perfection, and I beg you not to grow weary of remembering me. For receiving your letters is not only beneficial to me, but also gives me something to boast about to many people, and is an honor, because I am valued by a man of such great virtue and such close relationship with God that he can bring others also into relationship with Him through word and example.

You give me pleasure both by writing and remembering me, and a much greater pleasure by sending me your blessing in your letter. But if I were worthy of your sufferings and of your conflicts for Christ and through Christ I should have been counted worthy also to come to you, to embrace Your Piety, and to take example by your patience in your sufferings. But since I am not worthy of this, being troubled with many afflictions and hindrances I do what is next best. I address Your Perfection, and I beg you not to be weary of remembering me. For to be deemed worthy of your letters is not only profitable to me, but is also a matter to boast of to many people, and is an honour, because I am considered by a man of so great virtue, and such near relations with God, that he can bring others also by word and example into relation to Him.

(Eusebius had replied to the earlier letter, so Gregory wrote again, since he had the opportunity to communicate with his friend through a certain Eupraxius, a disciple of Eusebius, who was passing through Cappadocia on his way to visit his master. This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil.)

(Eusebius having replied to the former letter Gregory wrote again, having an opportunity of communicating with his friend through one Eupraxius, a disciple of Eusebius, who passed through Cappadocia on his way to visit his master. This letter is sometimes attributed to Basil.)

Our respected brother Eupraxius has always been dear to me and a true friend, but he has shown himself even more dear and true through his love for you. Even now he has rushed to your reverence, like a deer (to use David's words) seeking to quench his great and unbearable thirst with the sweet and pure spring of your patience in suffering. Please be willing to be his patron and mine.

Our reverend brother Eupraxius has always been dear to me and a true friend, but he has shown himself dearer and truer through his affections for you, inasmuch as even at the present time he has hurried to your reverence, like, to use David's words, a hart to quench his great and unendurable thirst with a sweet and pure spring at your patience in tribulations. Deign then to be his patron and mine.

Happy indeed are those who are permitted to come near you, and happier still is the one who can place upon his sufferings for Christ's sake and upon his labors for the truth a crown such as few of those who fear God have obtained. For it is not an untested virtue that you have shown, nor have you only sailed rightly and steered the souls of others in a time of calm, but you have shone in the difficulties of temptations and have been greater than your persecutors, having nobly departed from the land of your birth. Others possess the threshold of their fathers—we have the heavenly city; others perhaps hold our throne, but we have Christ. What a profitable exchange! How little we give up to receive how much! We went through fire and water, and I believe that we shall also come out into a place of refreshment. For God will not forsake us forever or abandon the true faith to persecution, but according to the multitude of our pains His comforts shall make us glad. This at any rate we believe and desire. But I beg you to pray for our humility. And as often as occasion presents itself, bless us without hesitation by a letter and cheer us up by news of yourself, as you have just been good enough to do.

Happy indeed are they who are permitted to come near you, and happier still is he who can place upon his sufferings for Christ's sake and upon his labours for the truth, a crown such as few of those who fear God have obtained. For it is not an untested virtue that you have shown, nor is it only, in a time of calm that you have sailed aright and steered the souls of others, but you have shone in the difficulties of temptations, and have been greater than your persecutors, having nobly departed from the land of your birth. Others possess the threshold of their fathers — we the heavenly City; others perhaps hold our throne, but we Christ. O what a profitable exchange! How little we give up, to receive how much! We went through fire and water, and I believe that we shall also come out into a place of refreshment. For God will not forsake us for ever, or abandon the true faith to persecution, but according to the multitude of our pains His comforts shall make us glad. This at any rate we believe and desire. But do you, I beg, pray for our humility. And as often as occasion shall present itself bless us without hesitation by a letter, and cheer us up by news of yourself, as you have just been good enough to do.

(In the year 374, Eusebius and other orthodox bishops of the East were banished by Valens, and their positions were filled with Arian intruders. Eusebius was ordered to go to Thrace, and his journey took him through Cappadocia, where he saw Basil. However, Gregory was too ill to leave his house and go to meet him, which caused him great sorrow. Instead, he sent the following letter.)

(In the year 374 Eusebius and other orthodox Bishops of the East were banished by Valens and their thrones filled with Arian intruders. Eusebius was ordered to retire to Thrace, and his journey lay through Cappadocia, where he saw Basil, but Gregory to his great grief was too unwell to leave his house and go to meet him. Instead he sent the following letter.)

When Your Reverence was passing through our region, I was so sick that I couldn't even look outside my house. I was distressed not so much because of the illness, though it brought the fear of the worst outcome, as by my inability to meet your holiness and goodness. My desire to see your venerable face was like what anyone would naturally feel who needed healing of spiritual wounds and expected to receive it from you. But though my sins prevented me from meeting you at that time, your goodness now makes it possible for me to find a remedy for my trouble. If you would be willing to remember me in your acceptable prayers, this will store up for me every blessing from God, both in this present life and in the age to come. For when such a man, such a fighter for the Faith of the Gospel, one who has endured such persecutions and won for himself such confidence before the all-righteous God through his patience in tribulation—when such a man consents to be my patron also in his prayers, this will gain for me, I am convinced, as much strength as I would have gained through one of the holy martyrs. Therefore let me ask you to remember your Gregory continually in all the matters in which I desire to be worthy of your remembrance.

When Your Reverence was passing through our country I was so ill as not to be able even to look out of my house. And I was grieved not so much on account of the illness, though it brought about the fear of the worst, as by the inability to meet your holiness and goodness. My longing to see your venerable face was like that which a man would naturally feel who needed healing of spiritual wounds, and expected to receive it from you. But though at that time the effect of my sins was that I missed the meeting with you, it is now by your goodness possible for me to find a remedy for my trouble, for if you will deign to remember me in your acceptable prayers, this will be to me a store of every blessing from God, both in this my life and in the age to come. For that such a man, such a combatant for the Faith of the Gospel, one who has endured such persecutions, and won for himself such confidence before the all-righteous God by his patience in tribulation — that such a man should deign to be my patron also in his prayers will gain for me, I am persuaded, as much strength as I should have gained through one of the holy martyrs. Therefore let me entreat you to remember your Gregory without ceasing in all the matters in which I desire to be worthy of your remembrance.

(In 374 AD Amphilochius was made Bishop of Iconium, and his father, a man with the same name, was deeply upset at being deprived of his son in this way. He had been counting on his son to support him in his old age, and he accused Gregory of being responsible. Gregory, who had just lost his own father, writes to correct this misunderstanding and to show him how much he fears the burden of episcopal responsibilities for his friend as well as for himself.)

(In a.d. 374 Amphilochius was made Bishop of Iconium; and his father, a man of the same name, was deeply aggrieved at being thus deprived of his son, to whom he had looked to support him in his old age, and accused Gregory of being the cause. Gregory, who had just lost his own father, writes to undeceive him, and to convince him how much he dreads the burden of the responsibilities of the episcopate for his friend as well as for himself.)

Are you grieving? I, of course, am full of joy! Are you weeping? As you can see, I am celebrating and taking pride in how things stand! Are you upset because your son has been taken from you and promoted to a position of honor because of his virtue, and do you think it is a terrible disaster that he is no longer with you to care for you in your old age and provide you with all the attention and service he used to give? But it does not grieve me that my father has left me for his final journey, from which he will never return to me, and I will never see him again! I do not blame you for this, nor do I expect you to properly console me, since I know that personal troubles leave no room to think about the troubles of others. No one is so devoted or so wise that they can rise above their own suffering and comfort another person when they themselves need comfort. But you, on the other hand, pile one blow on top of another when you blame me, as I hear you are doing, and think that your son and my brother is being neglected by us, or even betrayed by us—which is an even more serious accusation—or that we do not recognize the loss that all his friends and relatives have suffered, especially me, since I had placed my hopes for life in him and looked to him as my only protection, my only good adviser, and my only partner in godliness. But what grounds do you have for this opinion? If it is the first charge, let me assure you that I came to visit you specifically because I was troubled by the rumor, and I was ready to discuss the matter with you while there was still time to talk about it. But you shared everything with me except this, either because you were experiencing the same distress or for some other reason I do not know. But if it is the last charge, I was prevented from meeting with you again by my grief, by the honor I owed my father, and by his funeral, which I could not prioritize anything above—especially when my sorrow was fresh. It would have been not only wrong but also completely inappropriate to be unreasonably philosophical and act as if I were above human nature. Besides, I thought I was already committed to these circumstances, especially since his situation had reached the conclusion that seemed good to the One who governs all our affairs. So much for this matter. Now I ask you to set aside your grief, which I am sure is completely unreasonable. And if you have any other complaint, bring it forward so that you will not cause both me and yourself partial grief, and put yourself in a position unworthy of your noble character by blaming me instead of others, even though I have done you no wrong. In fact, if I must tell the truth, I have been equally dominated by our common friend, even though you used to consider me your only benefactor.

Are you grieving? I, of course, am full of joy! Are you weeping? I, as you see, am keeping festival and glorying in the present state of things! Are you grieved because your son is taken from you and promoted to honour on account of his virtue, and do you think it a terrible misfortune that he is no longer with you to tend your old age, and, as his custom is, to bestow on you all due care and service? But it is no grief to me that my father has left me for the last journey, from which he will return to me no more, and I shall never see him again! Then I for my part do not blame you, nor do I ask you for due condolence, knowing as I do that private troubles allow no leisure for those of strangers; for no man is so friendly and so philosophical as to be above his own suffering and to comfort another when needing comfort himself. But you on the contrary heap blow on blow, when you blame me, as I hear you do, and think that your son and my brother is neglected by us, or even betrayed by us, which is a still heavier charge; or that we do not recognize the loss which all his friends and relatives have suffered, and I more than all, because I had placed in him my hopes of life, and looked upon him as the only bulwark, the only good counsellor, and the only sharer of my piety. And yet, on what grounds do you form this opinion? If on the first, be assured that I came over to you on purpose, and because I was troubled by the rumour, and I was ready to share your deliberations while it was still time for consultation about the matter; and you imparted anything to me rather than this, whether because you were in the same distress, or with some other purpose, I know not what. But if the last, I was prevented from meeting you again by my grief, and the honour I owed my father, and his funeral, over which I could not give anything precedence, and that when my sorrow was fresh, and it would not only have been wrong but also quite improper to be unseasonably philosophical, and above human nature. Moreover, I thought that I was previously engaged by the circumstances, especially as his had come to such a conclusion as seemed good to Him who governs all our affairs. So much concerning this matter. Now I beg you to put aside your grief, which is most unreasonable I am sure; and if you have any further grievance, bring it forward that you may not grieve both me in part and yourself, and put yourself in a position unworthy of your nobility, blaming me instead of others, though I have done you no wrong, but, if I must say the truth, have been equally tyrannized over by our common friend, although you used to think me your only benefactor.

(The Armenian referred to is probably Eustathius, Bishop of Sebaste, the capital of Armenia Minor. He had been a disciple of Arius, but more than once professed the Nicene Faith, changing his opinions depending on his company. His personal character, however, stood very high, and for a long time Saint Basil regarded him with affectionate esteem. In fact, Saint Basil's Rule for Monks is based on one drawn up by him. But after Basil's elevation to the episcopate, Eustathius began to oppose him and to slander him on all sides, and even entered openly into communion with the Arians. It would seem that this man tried to win Amphilochius over to his side, and through him Gregory.)

(The Armenian referred to is probably Eustathius Bishop of Sebaste, the capital of Armenia Minor. He had been a disciple of Arius, but more than once professed the Nicene Faith, changing his opinions with his company. His personal character however stood very high, and for a long time S. Basil regarded him with affectionate esteem. Indeed S. Basil's Rule for Monks is based on one drawn up by him. But after Basil's elevation to the Episcopate Eustathius began to oppose him and to calumniate him on all sides, and even entered openly into communion with the Arians. It would seem that this man tried to get Amphilochius round to his side, and through him Gregory.)

Your excellent Honor's instruction is not barbaric, but Greek, or rather Christian. However, the Armenian you take such pride in is completely barbaric and far removed from our honor.

The Injunction of your inimitable Honour is not barbaric, but Greek, or rather christian; but as for the Armenian on whom you pride yourself so, he is a downright barbarian, and far from our honour.

An Invitation. You run away when I chase after you—perhaps following the rules of love, to make yourself more desirable. So come now, and finally make up for the loss I've suffered through your long absence. And if any household matters are keeping you away, you can leave us again afterward, and in this way make yourself even more precious as someone we long for.

An Invitation. You flee when I pursue you: perhaps in accordance with the laws of love, to make yourself more valuable. Come then, and fill up at last the loss I have suffered by your long delay. And if any home affairs detain you, you shall leave us again, and so make yourself more precious as an object of desire.

On Laconicism. Being laconic does not simply mean, as you think, writing few words, but rather saying a great deal in few words. For example, I consider Homer very brief and Antimachus long-winded. Why? Because I measure length by the content and not by the number of letters.

On Laconicism. To be laconic is not merely, as you suppose, to write few words, but to say a great deal in few words. Thus I call Homer very brief and Antimachus lengthy. Why? Because I measure the length by the matter and not by the letters.

(Gregory placed a collection of Basil's letters together with his own and gave them first place. Nicobulus appears to have been surprised by this and asked for the reason. Gregory explains it this way.)

(Gregory put a collection of Basil's letters with his own, and gave them the first place. Nicobulus seems to have been surprised at this, and asked the reason. Gregory explains as follows.)

I have always considered the Great Basil superior to myself, even though he thought the opposite. I still do now, both because it is true and because of our friendship. This is why I have placed his letters first and mine second. I hope the two of us will always be linked together, and I also wanted to provide others with an example of humility and deference.

I have always preferred the Great Basil to myself, though he was of the contrary opinion; and so I do now, not less for truth's sake than for friendship's. This is the reason why I have given his letters the first place and my own the second. For I hope we two will always be coupled together; and also I would supply others with an example of modesty and submission.

(Nicobulus asked Gregory to publish a collection of his letters, so Gregory sent him a copy.)

(Nicobulus asked Gregory to publish a collection of his letters. Gregory forwards a copy.)

You are asking for flowers from an autumn meadow and arming Nestor in his old age by demanding from me now something clever in language, after I have long neglected everything enjoyable in language and in life. But still, since you are not imposing an Eurystheus-like or Herculean labor on me, but rather one that is very agreeable and quiet—to gather for you as many of my own letters as I can—you should place this volume among your books. It is a work of rhetoric, not love poetry, intended for practical use rather than for show, and for our own circle. Different authors have different characteristics, whether greater or lesser. Mine is a tendency to teach through maxims and direct statements whenever the opportunity arises. And just as a legitimate child reveals his father, so also does language, no less than bodily features reveal parents. These are my characteristics, as I have described them. You may repay me both by writing and by benefiting from what I have written. I cannot ask for or request any better reward than this—one that is more profitable to the one who asks or more fitting for the one who gives it.

You are asking flowers from an autumn meadow, and arming Nestor in his old age, in demanding from me now something clever in the way of language, after I have long neglected all that is enjoyable in language and in life. But yet (since it is not an Eurysthean or Herculean labour that you are imposing on me, but rather one which is very agreeable and quiet, to collect for you as many of my own letters as I can), do you place this volume among your books — a work not amatory but oratorical, and not for display so much as for use, and that for our own home. For different authors have different characteristics, greater or smaller. Mine is a tendency to instruct by maxims and positive statements wherever opportunity occurs. And as in a legitimate child, so also in language, the father is always visible, not less than parents are shown by bodily characteristics. Mine are such as I have mentioned. You may repay me both by writing and by deriving profit from what I have written. I cannot ask for or request any better reward than this, either more profitable to the asker, or more becoming him who gives it.