書信集 第 1 章 第 40/55 段

But as for the present circumstances, I beseech you, brothers, to walk worthily of the calling to which we have been called, with all security and attentiveness, with all humility and mutual obedience toward one another — the one who leads holding the place of authority not for demonic self-exaltation, but as a model of virtue for those who follow, and these submitting and being persuaded as toward me, unworthy as I am, or rather toward Christ, for whose sake is the whole of our life and the daily death we choose.

O children, great is the mystery of salvation:

Watch how you conduct yourselves — not as those in the grip of passion, but as those free from passion; not as lovers of the flesh, but as lovers of God.

Do not cast your eyes upon the faces of women, and do not, moreover, be forward even among yourselves:

for forwardness is a fire that consumes the soul.

Meditate always on death, so that you may be prepared to depart with joy:

Hold fast to the traditions; fulfill the things appointed, both in psalmody and in prayer, and whatever else there may be.

Do not store up gold for yourselves, so as to give it, at the time of your final gathering, to your own kinsfolk or friends, on the pretext that the monastery will look after your affairs (this is not the way of children of God, but of those minded according to the flesh); rather, see to it that what is necessary is provided, and that whatever remains be brought to the brotherhood, so that the common life may be sustained by the contributions of many persons.

I say these things because I have heard that some are already, even now, making such dispositions:

'This animal,' one says, 'and this garment, or something else, I wish to leave to so-and-so.'

Such a one, then, is neither a child nor a brother, but a stranger — indeed, a temple-robber, whose portion is with Gehazi the thief.

Do not, brothers, be so deceived in mind, nor, forestalled by such a disposition, be found guilty of eternal judgment:

for if this is so, I too will do likewise, and distribute to my own kinsfolk according to the flesh whatever is in my hands.

But if you cannot even bear to hear of this in my case (for it is not the work of a superior, but of an enemy of God), then reasonably neither will I bear to hear of it concerning you:

and for this reason I take precaution and proclaim the just requirement of God, clearing myself of the blood of anyone guilty of sin — and this not as one seeking gold (do not be deceived), but the salvation of your souls.

for I will boast in the Lord:

It is a great matter of wealth for me to be able to say, with the chief of the apostles, 'Silver and gold I do not have' — though I am so fond of it; I speak in foolishness.

So much of it is heaped upon me that I even grow faint of heart in receiving it.

These things I write out of love, and I take precaution.

But may the God of my father, the giver of peace, the provider of mercy, the good shepherd, still shepherd both us and you, lacking nothing that is needful for spirit and for bodily life alike:

and may he count us worthy also of the eternal kingdom.

{To Abramius, the host of strangers} It is a genuine mark of a friend to visit the one he loves, whether in person or by letter; so from this, know that we love you, most honored and most illustrious one.

And we love you deservedly, and this for various reasons:

the second, on account of your sympathy toward our lowliness when we were in the Anatolikon province, at the time when you sent us a greeting, and also on account of all that happened concerning the most impious bishop of the Smyrnaeans;

the third, on account of the repute of your right-mindedness, which our spiritual and beloved brother and letter-bearer has abundantly attested; and I would add also, on account of our mutual friend lord Arcadius — I mean our companion and kindred soul, whom, as I learn, you also entertain among your own household.

But since it is also the work of a friend to remind the one he loves of matters requiring it, we remind and exhort your greatness to conduct yourself with forbearance and attentiveness in the office entrusted to you by the great emperors.

And let him not say to me that he is compelled by fear to act thus:

for nothing is greater than the fear of God, and nothing is more necessary than the salvation of the soul.

For what will it profit a man, it is said, if he gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? And it is in adverse circumstances that a physician is to be sought, and in the storm a helmsman:

Or do you not see that this is a great storm, a blow that is a scourge from God? Heal, my lord, steer the ship, so that you may both save yourself and heal those at fault, restoring them again to stability — bearing with the threat, since you yourself also are in a body and subject to falling:

for in this way you will gain God's favor toward you also, and when God is caring for you, who can do you harm? Remember, my lord, that you yourself too are flesh, and, since you fear blows, spare others from blows:

since with whatever measure we measure, it will be measured back to us in return.

Remember, good brother, that we exist only today, and we do not know what tomorrow will bring, lest we be found mocked and accursed both in this present age and in the age to come.

Remember that fearful and irrevocable sentence, by which the merciless will be sent forth into unquenchable fire.

Remember that there will stand before us the persons who received good at our hands, and those who suffered grievously at our hands:

and what benefit will it be to us then to have been thought competent here? Let us not, I beg you, let us not thus thrust the sword into ourselves:

I say this out of love and with the deepest concern, my lord.

To conclude my discourse: may I hear from now on good tidings concerning my lord, kindly and instructive ones, so that I may sing for joy, and know that I too shall be heeded henceforth by my friend.

For already even those who live near us here are fearful and trembling because of what they hear, although they have done nothing wrong:

the one who is coming is a tyrant; he brings a sword with him; even a poor man will not endure the threat:

he does not receive it in order to resist, and even were he unwilling, he is not accountable for this:

for not even I myself, if apprehended in such circumstances, could act otherwise.

But if the fault lies beyond these circumstances, well and good — yet even so, deal with it compassionately, as in the sight of the Lord:

from which the people under authority will also become the more stable, being made subject through goodwill to the victorious emperors.

{To Hypatius, my child} Not without feeling did we too, lowly as we are, receive, O child, the sacred falling-asleep of James, confessor of Christ and our most beloved brother — and yet not without a measure of joy either.

The first, on account of spiritual affection (for what was he but a son, and so great a son, of whom I, because of my sins, am not even worthy to be called a servant?); the second, on account of hope, or rather on account of the benefit gained — and not for us alone, for whom, as a member, he is by nature fitted to become a sacred adornment, but indeed also for the whole church of God.

For what do you think this man was? Was he not a confessor? Was he not a martyr? Was he not a holy man? From his youth he contended ascetically, submitting himself in accordance with the rule, playing the man against the passions, keeping his body virgin through disciplines of self-control and subjection, eating as it happened, sleeping likewise, yet remaining so healthy as to astonish those who beheld him, for the most part withdrawn, so far as was possible, and turning back into himself, and from there winging himself toward heavenly love.

And let no one suppose that I am fabricating these words to entertain those who hear them.

These things are but a rough sketch, as it were, of his asceticism.

But as for his confession—how many and how great were its trials! He became a spectacle both to angels and to men.

O the cheerful and God-loving heart!

He entered the arena as a soldier of Christ, undaunted, unshaken.

From this side and that the servants of darkness tore with blows his back, his breast, his arms; they shed his blood, they lacerated his flesh, and they left the saint cast down upon the ground, though he uttered not a single ill word at all, but made his testimony perfect before God, and this for the sake of Christ the Son of God and our God.

For to contend for his holy icon is to bear witness for that very One himself.

Let the meek hear and rejoice; let those who love the martyrs dance and be glad.

Let the devil be put to shame; let the horde of iconoclasts fall.

By the works of both, as God has commanded, you shall recognize both.

For the one side tormented in like manner not only this man but many of our own and of those not our own—yet ours nonetheless (since all are one body in Christ Jesus, who is the head of all)—they killed them, starved them to death, and did all the other things that follow upon such acts.

But he, paralyzed and dislocated from those most grievous blows, had his body operated upon with sharp pains, and from that time until the end he remained thus broken, continuing as one who died daily, yet always in thanksgiving and in humility of mind.

And if, as you say, he also foretold his own death, this too is consistent with his contests.

And since you have also told beforehand that a great multitude of people gathered for his funeral, and indeed people of distinction in both respects, this too is further witness to the truth of what has been said.

For such a gathering would not have taken place for a man obscure according to the flesh, were it not for God's providence.

He, then, has passed on to heaven and has been added to his fellow contestants, and the choir of confessors and martyrs from all ages has been increased—whereat there is joy and gladness in heaven.

By his prayers may we be saved, brothers; and may you find a reward worthy of your holy service to him.

Blessed too are those who gathered together, as truly pious, as truly lovers of the martyrs.

May their portion be with him whom they carried out for burial.

Concerning his precious relic, as I have written concerning the rule, I shall act accordingly, if the Lord is pleased.

Greet one another with a holy kiss.

For this letter must be read to all the brothers.

The lord archbishop greets you, as do the protopresbyter, the steward, and the rest of the brothers.

{To Peter of Nicaea} This is our counsel in reply to the question of the lord abbot: that all be released from the penance by the feast of the Holy Apostles, partaking of the holy sanctified gifts, but that the priests not exercise the functions of the priesthood until the coming of an orthodox synod, in which there will be full release and full gladness.

But let all in common, as ordinary monks, whether ordained or not, bless and be blessed, pray and receive prayers.

But since it is also necessary that the divine liturgy be celebrated, so that a presbyter and a deacon may be ordained to fill the place of those who are prevented, let it be known that this is done not out of envy but out of gratitude—since we have been enjoined, in apostolic fashion, to bear one another's burdens—it being already agreed beforehand by all that, should God, according to the unsearchable judgments of his righteousness, permit persecution to be kindled once more, they would choose to suffer anything, even unto death, rather than betray the truth.

Thus do we, in our lowliness, judge, since we give this same answer to all.

But whatever seems best to your fatherly holiness will surely be the more prudent judgment.

{To Demetrios the Consul} Just a short while ago, by letter, we made our reply, saying that your faith toward us, my lord, and your honor and your love, are great and beyond our worth.

But we are not as you suppose; rather, we are sinners, of no benefit either to you or indeed to others.

May the reward and mercy from the Lord be yours according to your trust, together with the lady consul's wife and your noble offspring.

Having received your offerings, we have presented to the Lord our thanksgivings.

But let our discourse turn to the pressing matter.

Some, it is said, were grieved on account of the 'second Herod,' because he was orthodox and the Church commemorates him.

First of all, it is customary to call rulers 'Herod,' as the Theologian says: 'If you stand before Herod, be silent.'

Next, let those who raise this objection consider whether the comparison is not indeed fitting.

The first Herod, having as his wife the daughter of King Aretas, cast her out and took to himself, as a second marriage, the wife of his brother Philip.

And since this was against the Law, he was rebuked by the Forerunner.

And, unable to bear the rebuke, he killed the prophet.

Then, a little while later, having been driven out by his own people, he was murdered, God the just Judge having brought upon the murderer a fitting penalty—a most pitiable death in place of the death of a holy man.

Let us come now to the one who is the subject of our discourse.

He too, having as his wife Maria, who had been lawfully joined to him from his youth, cast her out adulterously according to the word of the Lord, and took as his wife Theodote, a lady of the bedchamber, in a second marriage.

And since this was contrary to the Gospels, he was rebuked to his face by Plato.

And, unable to bear the rebuke, he shut up the holy man as though buried.

Then, a little while later, having been driven out by his own subject, he was blinded.

God, the giver of justice, having brought upon the jailer a fitting penalty—the loss of his eyes in place of the holy man's imprisonment.

Let everyone who has understanding give ear, then, to the fact that Constantine may justly be called a second Herod, since no one else from that time until now has done such a thing—he himself having procured this name for himself through his own deeds.

And concerning this let no one give us trouble.

Christ, who is the Truth, cannot lie in saying that he is an adulterer; nor can the one who resists this fail to be fighting against God.

And what the adulterer has done shall not cease to be spoken of until the consummation of the age.

But since those who are grieved were themselves led astray along with the adultery, they are wrongly pained by this reminder; they ought instead to confess the truth, and to fall down before God and weep for having been led away, for which, if they do not repent, they will give account on the day of judgment.

But instead they draw upon themselves sin upon sin, provoking God still further.

Or has it escaped their notice what kind of persecution was thereby kindled everywhere, and how many committed adultery on the strength of that prominent example? And I say nothing of the rest, out of respect for certain persons.

Let them cease from this grief that is hateful to God, whoever they may be.

For God does not show partiality to any man.

And, contrary to what we have received from the Gospel, if anyone preaches a different gospel, even an angel, he is subject to anathema, as the blessed Apostle proclaims.

Knowing these things, let the most devout abbot also refrain from complaining concerning Saint Theophanes, on the ground that he was blamed in this matter.

For nothing is to be preferred above the truth.

And does he refuse to hear that even Peter, the great Apostle, did not refuse to have his denial mentioned, nor holy David his adultery, nor Cyprian the hieromartyr his sorcery? And as for his being commemorated in the Church as orthodox, this in no way stands opposed to the Gospel, since Valentinian too is commemorated—not on account of his unlawfully having two wives at once, but on account of his right faith.

And Jovian too—not, as is recorded, on account of his having been a corrupter of males.

And Nicephorus—not insofar as he was a covetous man.

And it would take long to speak of all the others who, though slandered in other respects, obtained ecclesiastical commemoration solely on account of their orthodoxy.

But you yourself, my lord, keep this writing securely, not letting it be made public, for there is danger, as the letter-bearer will report to you.

The Lord be with your spirit.

{To my child Euarestos} Out of much affliction and anguish of my heart—and let me add, of tears—comes this letter, brother, because I have heard that you have died the death of sin.

For they say that, having cast away the profession of virginity, the angelic garment, that manner of life revered by angels and men alike, you have taken to yourself a woman adulterously—or rather, to speak more properly, an Eve.

This has brought mourning upon me, your sinful father, and shame upon your angelic brotherhood, and pride and boasting to the devil.

O, what has happened? Alas, how did the dragon overpower you, and into what depth of foulness has he cast you down? You who were light have become darkness; the fragrance of Christ has become a stench; the one who was holy has become defiled; the one who was honored has become dishonored; the one who was glorious has become inglorious; he who was untouched by the demon has become bound hand and foot to him; the one who was beloved has become hateful; the sheep of Jesus has become prey seized by a wild beast (I will add still greater things): he who was persecuted for righteousness' sake has been overtaken by sin; the confessor has become a denier; he who bore the beatitude upon his head like a diadem has been stripped of the wondrous name of monk.

Woe is me! Who, hearing of this, would not groan? And who, considering it, would not shudder? You have shamed the monastic order; you have terrified those who stand firm; you have shaken those who were already faltering; you have drunk the cup of lawlessness; and, so far as lay in your power, you have dragged those of your own rank to taste of death as well.

O, and again I say, what has happened to you, wretched man? How have you, the morning star, been darkened? How have you, a useful vessel, been shattered? Are you not ashamed even of your own name, that though called Euarestos ('Well-pleasing'), you have become Dysarestos ('Displeasing')? Did you not come to me last year, when you also came to our lord the archbishop, wholly sound, cheerful, eager, an intercessor and restorer on behalf of another brother of yours rather than for yourself? How did you suddenly fail? How were you blinded? How did you forget both God and us, and your ascetic labors and sweats already accomplished? For you were among the useful men, and among those appointed to the higher ministries.

What then? A small assault of the enemy — a desire that seems sweet but is wrapped about with a two-edged sword, whose bitterness nothing exceeds in gall — seized you and dragged you down as if from heaven, from your lofty way of life, and now shows you like a wounded man, asleep in a tomb.

For what else is it to be in sin than to be in corruption? There is nowhere any intellectual light, no hope, no sweetness of soul, no sacred thought, but only deep night, a closing of the mind's eye, a gnawing of the heart, fear even at chance occurrences, and a daily wallowing in the mire like some writhing beast.

Ah, ah, what has the demon wrought? What has the all-accursed desire made of you — that desire by which those deceived since the beginning of the age have gained nothing even here, but have also lost the heavenly things, inheriting one thing alone: the eternal fire.

But come, my son, be called back; I call you from the depths of my heart, from my inward parts that are burning within me, since your glory is my own, as likewise, conversely, is your shame.

Come, arise; the Lord has commanded it.

'I will by no means remember your iniquities,' He says, and, 'Shall not he who falls arise?' and, 'I have seen that he walks about sullen,' and, 'I will heal your brokenness.'

Behold a good God, behold a merciful physician!

Yes, I beg you, child (for you are my child, even though you have died), do not tarry any longer in sin.

Tear away, tear quickly the cords with which the devil has bound you, and, rising as from a pit, leap across into the wondrous light of your former way of life.

And I for my part will receive you with open arms, not reproaching but pitying, not making the medicines of repentance heavy, but rendering them gentle and lightening them as much as possible.

Do hasten, hasten, before the relentless angel suddenly comes upon you, pitilessly parting you from your body and carrying you off to eternal judgment.

{To Severian, his spiritual son} As much as the short letter gladdened us, child, so much did the longer one grieve us.

For whereas you had not yet raised any objection concerning the propositions contained in it, nor had you heard from us what was needful, you were nevertheless led now to put forth these statements, ostensibly contending against another person, but rather, in truth, setting yourself against the truth — although you ought not to teach at all; and I say this not so much because you are of subordinate rank (that, indeed, bear with patience), but rather because those who have been caught up in heretical communion — of whom you are one — have no boldness to open their mouth, but must remain in fitting silence and beg forgiveness for their whole life long.

...you who have never so much as touched grammar or philosophy — whereas even those skilled in these arts do not, in matters pertaining to God, set forth any teaching of their own, but follow the God-bearing fathers.

Whence then, I ask you, did it occur to you to say that the icon of Christ is not venerated relationally? Do you even know what 'relation' is? Relation belongs to the category of things said relative to something, and that something is the prototype and its derivative image, that is, Christ and his icon — for the one is contained within the other, and neither is severed from the other, whether in power or in glory.

Behold, in your ignorance you do not even know it, and it is fitting here to say that word:

'I have seen a wickedness under the sun: a man who seemed wise in his own eyes, and, what is worse than this, one who contentiously sets himself to teach others.'

And what, again, is your second objection? 'Christ is worshiped with latria in his icon, so that the icon too becomes an object of latria.'

Whence do you get this, or from whom have you learned it, that you set it forth as doctrine? For none of the saints has ever said such a thing, but rather that Christ is venerated in his icon, and the icon is an object of veneration — whether one calls it 'honorific' or 'reverential.'

For both expressions bring the mind to the very same point, and rightly so.

Since latria, like faith, is referred to the Holy Trinity alone, while the other kinds of honor are referred to other objects — to the Mother of God, to the life-giving Cross, to the saints, to the revered icon of Christ, and to all other holy icons — and this to the very degree by which the prototypes surpass the derivative images corresponding to them.

If, then, as you say, Christ is worshiped with latria in the icon, then, since latria belongs to the Trinity, the Father and the Spirit too are co-worshiped with latria in the icon.

And what follows from this? That the Father and the Spirit too have been made flesh.

What could be more impious than this? And since you also say, in turn, that the icon of Christ is itself an object of latria, by consequence you will be found to be nothing other than a quaternitarian, worshiping with latria, alongside the Trinity, the icon of Christ as well.

It is not, however, the case that the same absurdity follows for one who venerates the Trinity by the mere fact that he also venerates the icon.

For it has already been said that honor and veneration are shared in common, extending even to an ordinary man, but faith and latria are not.

For just as we believe only in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, so too do we render latria to them alone.

Having given ear to these things, brother, abstain, I beg you, from empty talk and from the 'Tzykalic,' that is, the 'Kendoukladic,' heresy, which stands diametrically opposed to the iconoclast heresy.

But if, which may it never happen, you persist, know that you will have no part with us — nor, indeed, with any Orthodox person at all.

With grief of heart concerning you was this letter dictated by me.

{To Theodore, a monk} I was pleased, not stung, most honored one, by the things with which you took me to task.

For I am not so unamenable to admonition as to be vexed at loving reproofs.

But if I was indeed stung, it was not because of your reminder, but because of each man's own faction, by which the body of Christ has been cut apart, being divided into countless opinions.

I, then, that I may recount the matter from its starting point (for, having been accused, I must give a defense), gave a penance, being compelled thereto from the very first day, and this from prison, by letters (for the request of monks and clergy for reconciliation is likewise made by letter); and I answered thus: that the penance imposed by me was not authoritative, but advisory.

Why? Because I am not a hierarch, but a priest — toward my own disciples I act with legislative authority, but toward others not so; rather, as has been said, I have deferred the matter to them until a time of peace, and then to accept whatever shall be determined by the most holy patriarch together with the judgment of the holy synod, whether the penance be increased or relaxed.

And I think I have not acted outside of what is fitting, having reached out a hand of loving-kindness to those who have fallen, without, however, arrogating that authority to myself, which would be out of place.

And what is the penance? It varies according to the various offenses, which the scope of a letter does not allow me to set forth in full.

...of the synod — and that they may give a blessing or even pray as an ordinary monk, not as one ordained; but even this only after the completion of the period of penance.

...and that they are not to enter churches held by heretics; nor, if a church is permitted to remain in the hands of an Orthodox priest even after heretical offerings have been made there, may that Orthodox priest celebrate the liturgy without absolution granted by an Orthodox bishop.

Since, then, by the good pleasure of God we were released from prison and joined together with the most holy patriarch and the holy bishops, and also with the pious abbots, we submitted these matters to them and were found blameworthy by no one in anything, except by one person alone, on the matter of giving a blessing.

To whom we answered that, if it is indeed blameworthy, let a decree be issued by the head, and we will keep silence.

So let those who bring accusations bring them not against us, but against the lord bishops.

Whom we, being lowly and subordinate, follow, and, being compelled by them, have to this very day both given penances according to the aforesaid order, and continue to give them whenever occasion arises.

But let those who love to find fault take care lest, while straining out the gnat, they have unknowingly swallowed the camel, and, while groping after specks, fail to perceive that they themselves are carrying about a beam.

We, then, O brother honored by God, have thus conducted ourselves, with God as our witness, out of compassion and brotherly love, not out of partisan attachment or any other human entanglement.

'But he who troubles you,' says the Apostle, 'shall bear the judgment, whoever he may be.'

{To Anthimos, his son} The law of God, and the fear and trembling of Him, as He says:

'I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel.'

And the duty of that watchman's message has compelled me, brother, once again by letter to announce to you the sword of God that is coming upon you — a fearsome sword, a fiery sword, a sword that casts not the body, but the soul, into the gehenna of fire for endless ages.

And I weep as I write, wretched man that I am, and I groan bitterly, because this word concerns my own son and disciple.

But what am I to do? If I do not announce it, God has said that He will require your blood from my hands — which is nothing other than that I too should share in the very same judgment of punishment.

O brother, why have you thus closed the eye of your heart? Why have you despised God, at whose glance the whole universe is shaken and cannot bear to stand? You leapt away long ago from the wrestling-ground of asceticism, you went off to places that the Lord does not visit, you broke the seal of purity, you corrupted your soul and body, you became a slave of sin.

Then, late at last, you returned to us at the very outset of the persecution, confessing, submitting to penance, promising to resume your former course after the persecution had ceased.

For this you were also instructed by the steward, and were taken in by brother Dionysios, and you chose the good path of flight, dwelling in good places instead of evil ones — places upon which the eyes of the Lord rest, and the blessing of persecution encircling above your head.

Well done indeed, for that recall, for that purification, for that angelic assistance!

What, then, has happened again? What is it that has driven you out of your senses away from God and handed you over to the devil? Alas for my own wretchedness!

You have turned back again into the mire of sin, corrupting and being corrupted by a woman — or rather, by women.

Lord, have mercy; spare him, O God.

Your guardian angel has abandoned you; Satan has taken hold of you.

Are you then alive, wretched man? And how can one live who is being devoured by the man-slayer? Do you then see the light? And how can one who has been darkened by sin see? Do you then pray to God? And how can one who has enslaved himself to the devil draw near to the Lord? Where is your good beginning, your fervor, your compunction, your submission, your tears, your God-inspired prayer, your heavenly way of life? All are gone, they have perished.

O bitter groanings that are mine over your unreasoning folly!

Would that you were an irrational animal, which does not come to judgment!

But that you are a creature fashioned by God, who will rise again and is about to be judged — this is what is pitiable.

...the fatted [calf], and joyfully summon together the powers above at your recovery.

Do not, then, disobey, my son, my son, but be called back, but return, joined once more to your good brother Dionysios, before the sword of eternal death overtakes you.