書信集 第 1 章 第 49/55 段

since neither utter laxity is at all salutary, nor excessive severity acceptable; and, before all else, what is orthodox in faith.

For even if, with regard to outward circumstance, one may say that it is impossible to keep this as it was kept in former times (though even this is not a sufficient excuse before God --

for nothing is to be preferred above his love) -- nevertheless, according to the inner man it is possible to guard this carefully, and for him to be called the savior of many, both monastics and laypeople, both rulers and ruled.

Moved by spiritual love toward you both, we have taken courage to remind you of these things, knowing that even without reminder you hold fast to what is good.

{To Bryenas, general} The death of the blessed mother has been announced to us, and how much we have groaned—what need is there even to say? Not on account of her who has piously fallen asleep (far be it—

for her passing was a gain to her, who has escaped this life so full of sin), but because we consider your nobility of soul to have been left utterly bereft and to have acquired no consolation in this life (and this while you are in so gloomy a state), and that you did not even enjoy the holy funeral rites themselves—which are known to bring some small comfort: a farewell speech and a last word, an embrace of the precious remains, and a bending over the very coffer in which they are laid.

and you seem to have suffered the fate of Tantalus, even though the allusion is rather mythical—wasting away with thirst in the midst of springs, having perceived your mother's falling asleep only by hearing, but not with your own eyes.

What, then, in these circumstances? Shall we groan beyond what is fitting? Shall we weep without measure? Shall we despair uncontrollably? And where, then, is the knowledge, where the wisdom, where the understanding with which your nobility has been adorned, indeed beyond many of those now seen in high office? By no means, then, O beloved, by no means; but having groaned and wept in moderation, so much as to render due honor to a mother's funeral rites and to display what nature demands, let us, if you wish, come to ourselves again and look with elevated contemplation upon the things of this world as a dream and a shadow and this plaything upon earth, as one of the theologians somewhere says—that we who were not came to be, and having come to be, shall be dissolved.

For we too shall walk the very same road that our fathers have journeyed before us, and the same resting-place awaits all equally—though perhaps for one it may prove more tragic than for another, since one, perhaps, is buried in peace, while another is not so.

for he has either become fodder consumed by war, or been swallowed up by the sea, or perished in some other way, as one sees happen in other pitiable manners of sudden death—of which the blessed mother stood above and beyond, having departed from this world in holiness and a cross-bearing life.

It remains, then, in these circumstances for us to say that celebrated utterance of the blessed Job: 'The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away; as it seemed good to the Lord, so it has come to pass.'

I would add that this saying is profitable for us also in the afflictions and perplexities in which we now find ourselves, since that famous man too, as you know, rendered thanksgiving to God amid countless sufferings.

Let us not, then, grow slack, O dearest friend, nor despair even of life itself, knowing that the Lord will not allow us to be tempted beyond what we are able to bear.

Abraham—that Sarah nurses a child? The saying is symbolic.

We pray, then, that the Lord of glory himself, touching your heart, may bring forth in it a light of unceasing consolation, so that, possessing within yourself the springs of comfort, you may have no need of another's voice.

We have also seen our beloved brother and spiritual son, the lord John, your excellency's own blood relative, visiting us sinners, as was fitting;

and we consoled him briefly on account of his grief for their mother, and we together exhorted him to bear, with brotherly solidarity, the concerns of your piety.

{To Euphrosyne, abbess} At the present time also we visit your honor by letter, being eager to learn how you continue in health, devoutly bearing your spiritual life;

for this is indeed a duty owed by us to perform, just as you yourself have devoted yourself to our humble self ever since the time of your own blessed mother—whose memory is in the book of the living, she having lived well and left her own life as an imprint of piety, not only to you, the sacred and God-minded one, and to those under your hand, but also to all others who have a desire to emulate what is good.

Having, then, the example of virtue from your mother, add to it, my lady, we exhort you, what pertains to yourself as well, becoming yourself, from an excellent image, an image of a God-inspired life to those who behold you, even as we pray you may become.

For indeed we hear again and again that you do good works: on the one hand, in guiding the sisters, holding them all together with one loving soul, being watchful in the things pertaining to God through prayers, psalmody, and readings; and on the other hand, in brotherly hospitality, dividing yourself in many ways among cares and charitable gifts; and, as it were an eye in the body, so, as I understand, is your monastery in Byzantium.

through which God is glorified, and the blessed mother rejoices ineffably, since the saints have been deemed worthy to behold the achievements of their own disciples.

Rejoice, then, O good teacher and true mother of the children who are according to God;

and let others have earthly glories and splendors, diadems and transient crowns; but for you it will suffice to have the cross of Christ, the God-possessed life, the convent beloved of Christ, and, if you will, the oracles of God, more precious than gold and costly stone, the gray garment, the following of Christ—things which are greater than all earthly things and pledges of the kingdom of heaven.

May the eye of your mind, then, never grow drowsy, nor the ear of your heart become deaf, nor may divine love ever cease in you; but rather may you continually increase with the addition of virtues, pricking and piercing the soul with compunction, and pouring forth tears as from some fountain.

for this water is exceedingly good;

it purifies the soul, at times defiled by evil thoughts; it extinguishes the fire kindled through carelessness by the love of the flesh; it lulls to rest a turbulent disposition and the assault of the malicious one; it truly bends God to mercy, and re-establishes the lover in his former sincerity.

For the Lord gives you grace, and may he give you still more, to love him and be loved in return, to desire him and be desired in return, so that you too may be able to say with the apostle:

'And I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me.'

For indeed the one who loves God with his whole being stands outside of himself in the beloved, living and moving and having his being in him.

Such does our discourse require you to be, O bride of Christ, and indeed the daughters of God under you as well.

And what follows from this? The bridegroom Christ, the heavenly bridal chamber, and the good things of the Jerusalem above—this is the kingdom of heaven, and all the things of rest that have been promised to the saints;

which, having already attained, the blessed mother exhorts you to persevere in ascetic discipline, in concord, in unity of soul, to trample the passions, to hate flesh and blood, and to hold fast to the virtues, through which it is possible to attain these ineffable good things.

{To Eudokimos, spatharios} This is the second time I write to your honor, and this too at the urging of Silvanus, our most reverend brother;

…before our very eyes, he broke our humble soul, recounting every detail: that you, our master, bear what has happened with gratitude, and refer your suffering to God, placing yourself outside the machinations wrought by human malice, and seeking one single end—that you might render your life, henceforth, acceptable to the Master of all.

In all these things he moved us as was fitting, so that we uttered this saying: that the good man brings forth good things out of the good treasure of his heart;

for indeed, just as in a storehouse, having laid up in your soul the treasures of knowledge from your prior education, both divine and human, you now, fittingly, at a time of need, bring forth your spiritual riches, managing your own salvation.

And behold, good man, that the divine teachings have turned out well for you—the reading and the knowledge, the leisure and the diligent practice, the intercession and the prayer, the possession of sacred words and books.

How exceedingly rich you are, even though few provisions of life remain to you; how fair of face and lovely of eyelid, even though you have been deprived of sight through injustice; how utterly resplendent and glorious, even though you have resolved to endure a life without honor or renown.

And indeed this is altogether a certain testing and trial of virtue, that from the very things in which we seem to have been abandoned, we may discover therein that we have been benefited by the good God;

who, through both right and left, through glory and dishonor, through evil report and good report, and the other things which the apostolic voice has distinctly set forth, knows how to order our life to our benefit.

And this is an ancient doctrine, and characteristic of the way of life of men possessed by God.

Take, for instance, Abel, the righteous one attested as such by the judgment of God;

did he not become the victim consumed by a brother's hand? That Enoch, who pleased God—was he not, on account of the corrupters of that time who were eager to corrupt him, snatched away from their midst by God and transported to unknown places, where he remains even until now, destined to be the forerunner of the second appearing of Christ? Know Abraham, tested by God in many ways, whose trial of faith is exceedingly more precious than gold.

And that I may pass over the others, who are many and cannot possibly be recounted within the compass of a letter—Job, perhaps, of the countless contests: if we compare our own sufferings with his, we would surely find ourselves wanting, and each time we shall take up and utter together with him that celebrated saying of his.

Thus, then, we exhort you, O beloved, to order the affairs concerning yourself, and by a better reasoning and a firmly believing judgment to transform this season of misfortune and manifold suffering into good fortune and good experience;

for nothing among human affairs will disturb one who is thus firmly grounded and living in confidence in God, since he has shown himself higher than all the things that usually cause grief.

And even if you say that while listening to the one reading you tend to fall asleep, it is no wonder;

for the loss of sight naturally tends to produce this effect.

And even if you say that you have no task at hand, your bodily powers being unable to act, let none of this trouble you at all;

you have a psalm, you have a teaching, you have a tongue, you have a revelation;

let all things be done for edification.

Eat, drink, sleep; only possess a thankful spirit, and read whatever lies stored up within you and in the natural book of your mind.

And a little while later you shall greatly recover your sight and behold the unapproachable light, Jesus the Son of God, coming from heaven with the glory of his power in flaming fire, judging some as deserving of judgment, and glorifying others as sharers of glory with him;

O most dear and most honored to me, flashing forth just like the very rays of the sun.

As for the estate which you had determined to establish as a monastery—if anything else, too, had been arranged for good in one way or another—God has accepted it all as if it had already come to pass, provided that you bear the loss of everything with gratitude.

Pray for us sinners;

for now it is not only we sinners who ask this, but even one of the saints might well seek your intercession, since you labor under such sufferings.

Our brother and archbishop greets you most warmly.

{To Sergius, abbot} Thanks be to the Lord, that your honor is in good health;

for this your letter reported, as did the pair of brothers.

We have also gladly received your intention of desiring to come to us, though you were prevented by the constraint of the civil wars and the danger along the way;

which evils the Lord our God will speedily scatter, restoring the subject people to peace, and indeed delivering them from the incursion of the Hagarenes;

for we have also been informed of the sword concerning them, how great and how terrible it proved to be in those parts.

And all these things are chastisements from God on account of our unrepentant wickedness.

Nevertheless, you, good man and most honored brother, stand firm and act with courage in leading the brotherhood, not succumbing to despondency, however many the difficulties; not growing weary amid perplexities, however much your strength be spent;

but first of all, which is also the matter of first concern, guard the faith safe and unshaken, fleeing communion with those of heterodox belief by every means;

for know that persecution is present, and it is no mark of perfection that you sit at home and remain unpersecuted, while zealots of piety have suffered much, and some have been crowned with the diadem of martyrdom;

so that you have need of a scrupulous life, to make up for the deficiency of the lapse into which your former leader fell, and through him, by your acceptance of him, all of you as well;

for as the head is, so is the whole body also.

And I say these things not that you may be dissolved, but that you may be strictly preserved and strengthened by non-participation in the heresy.

Second, be sober indeed, and watch indeed, for many are those who war against us from on high, for many are the snares of the devil, for as a roaring lion he seeks whom he may devour;

and one he tries to devour through the pleasure of the flesh, and another he tries to tear away from the fellowship of the brethren through the sickness of unbelief;

and another he wounds with the arrows of envy, wishing to make him a second Cain, while yet another he casts down through the fall of love of money, eager to make known a second Judas.

And in short, his work night and day is our destruction.

Take heed, guard by manner and word the sheep of Christ, and your reward from God will be great;

for he himself said to the chief of the apostles:

'Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me more than these? Feed my sheep.'

so that the pastoral rod, rightly wielded, is proof of love for him.

{To my child Stephen} Abba Anthimos also arrived, O good Stephen and beloved son, and, as though rightly seeing you in him, I inquired how you were faring;

since the principle of pastoral care demands this, I did the same also with your brother Anthimos.

And I have discerned that you do have love for one another, yet not such love as the truth requires among brothers who are genuine in the Lord.

And what is this, that you do not hold everything in common, but you yourself hoard gold privately, and he too hoards gold privately, which is a thing that divides love? For where could there be one soul and one heart, when 'mine' and 'yours' are spoken? From this come suspicions, from this come slanders;

and third, from this it is not Christ who is in your midst—he who said, 'Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them'—but the enemy of our souls, who cuts apart the members of Christ.

For it is clear that where there is private possession and not commonality, Christ is absent from there, since it is written concerning the apostles: 'They had all things in common, and no one said that any of the things he possessed was his own.'

Are we not ashamed even now—forgive me for saying so—that we, being only two, do not hold our possessions in common, when among the apostles, so great a multitude, commonality existed? For this reason Christ was there, but among you not at all, harsh as the word may be;

for otherwise you would indeed be of one soul, of one mind and one heart, bearing with one another, caring for one another, self-sufficient, obedient, gentle, cheerful, content with what is at hand, living a sweet life even on bread and water alone, such as the saints had.

But now the opposite is the case, according to what has been said above.

one silver coin and one gold coin added to the pile of coin already heaped up—

which is the passion of love of money, and a Judas-like outcome.

I ask, and answer me:

do you have bread and wine and oil in modest measure, together with the other necessities and provisions for the body's sustenance, sufficient for one month or two? If you nod assent, thanks be to the Lord; but if not, buy what is needed from the money I have just given you, and there will be no distraction and no disturbance;

for I know it will suffice even for a need lasting four months.

And when you are again in want, whether from this source or another—and I would add, also from your own handiwork—may he who nourishes all things nourish you as well.

This is the best life; thus you would have Christ in your midst, at one time working, at another praying, and sometimes keeping silence, sometimes reading.

And a sweet light will rise upon you, and to those who see you, you will be beloved;

and God will be glorified in you, and may he glorify you in return, both now and in the age to come; and you will be a boast to us sinners and the glory of the whole brotherhood.

I have said these things on the assumption that you do not have gold laid up as treasure—and may you never have it—so that you might not have to hear this:

'Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.'

Now for a monk it is treasure-hoarding if anyone should acquire for himself more than three coins, according to what is written among the Fathers—and even that with his mind fixed on the poor—since the exact monk, who lords it over the world through possessing nothing, does not own even a single silver coin, and cries out with the holy Paul:

'as poor, yet making many rich;'

'and as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.'

For God opens a door on every side to such a one—whether he is at rest, or persecuted, or imprisoned, or suffering anything else whatsoever.

And such a one is a Christ-bearer, and a true Christian, and an angel on earth, and a man who imitates God, and an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ.

Consider, then, henceforth, O brothers, this word: if you both possess only three coins, you are not to be rejected among monks, according to the paternal example;

but if you have more than ten, as I hear, or even more still, know that you have fallen from the monastic state, and are servants not of Christ but of his adversary, and children not of me, the lowly one, but of the lover of gold.

You might seem to say, 'But you yourself have some too'—yes, indeed;

since even Christ had money through the money-box that he carried, and so does every abbot and superior of the churches—

but that is for the administration of the brotherhood;

for the Lord says in the Gospel to Judas:

'But no one of those reclining at table knew for what purpose he said this to him.'

For some supposed, since Judas held the money-box, that he was telling him, 'Buy what we need for the feast,' or that he should give something to the poor.

Thus, in imitation of Christ, in all true superiors there is certainly a money-box, and for no other reason—far be it!

If, then, you too are superiors, and some give to you from their own possessions—just as, to Christ himself, as it is written, the women who followed him gave from their own possessions, and likewise other men and women gave to the saints—it would be well, and you might have not merely ten coins, but even ten thousand;

for none of it is yours, but Christ's, and you are stewards of the things of Christ, just as Paul too, though possessing all things, had nothing, and so has everyone else up to this day who holds pastoral charge in the fear of God.

But if you are not overseers and stewards of souls, I beg and entreat you, quickly distribute whatever exceeds the appointed measure, lest, being caught by the devil in the passion of love of money, you should fall away from discipleship to Christ.

I have said these things not to you alone, but through you to all the brothers as well;

and not out of hatred (far be it!), but out of great love, and not choosing to constrain you, but rather to give you great room.

For in narrowness there is breadth, and in tribulation for Christ's sake there is exultation of spirit.

May we come to share in the eternal good things.

{To the Empress Maria} What sort of men are we, and who are we, lowly as we are, that we should be deemed worthy of an apology for the distressing events that occurred, and moreover be honored with excessive praises by your most esteemed majesty? Yet we have gladly received the gracious condescension of your piety, since it has taught the truth of the matter (which was indeed also necessary) and has freed many people from the false supposition that is accustomed to creep into such affairs.

For a report, once let loose, is scattered abroad among many, without possessing the complete truth in any single case.

But what words shall we use, as we attempt to heal the pain of your much-suffering heart? Or with what gentler touches might we be able to smooth the roughness of your soul? You have endured, then—that our discourse may proceed for us from the beginning—an unjust separation from your consort, being torn away also from the imperial power, whereat the world has been shaken.

The adulteress wears the purple, while the empress wears black; the slave woman rules, while the mistress serves.

And, to pass over the rest—since you who have suffered it know better than we who are ignorant of it—you have endured exile for the sake of truth, cut off from your own true offspring.

And in this too the suffering is great, and great also is the praise due to you, both before God and before all the pious.

The present affliction is the third blow, concerning which we have been bidden to show what is fitting.

Now others will say other things—that a mother should follow her daughter, since, as they say, one might observe this happening even among wild beasts by natural instinct—but we sinners will say the words of the Master:

'Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?' And again:

'If anyone comes to me and does not hate his daughter, he is not worthy of me.'

What, then, is the conclusion? That your piety should remain at home, while the Augusta holds the palace;

in this the evangelical sword is shown, carrying out its cutting.

These things, forgive us, mistress, we have made bold to write with much care and constraint of heart, as though speaking into your very ear, praying for you both what is better and what pertains to salvation, now and hereafter.

{To Basil, a monk} We do not refuse to write our humble word, as often as your honored self reasonably seeks it, provided it should also be of benefit to you;

for this very point we also noted in our preceding letter.

Therefore now too we welcome this letter, at once exhortatory and at the same time also a reminder.

And what is the exhortation? That since the abbess, together with ten of the sisterhood, has, as you say, died in the Lord, the event is not without pain, but indeed greatly overwhelming, since, when the head is gone, the whole body is dead, and when the most honored members are cut off, those that remain are left disfigured.

Such, then, is the event as far as it concerns the flesh.

But since spiritual things are to be compared with spiritual things, the event is at once sorrowful and also joyful—sorrowful because of the loss, joyful because of the hope.

You have escorted forth a holy abbess, and, above all, as you relate, venerable sisters.

It is a matter for joy: those who have been received are preparing a place of rest for you through their intercession, just as those who go on ahead along the road secure lodgings in advance; while you who remain, men and women alike, should be eager to lay hold beforehand of the good life and the dignified way of living, and to keep looking always toward that place where, a little later, we shall meet together with our mother according to God and the sisters.

Behold, such is the affliction that has befallen you—full of hope and joy, and not like the mourning of those who have died according to the flesh, who, being struck by irrational wailing and lamentation, are filled with grief just like the nations that have no hope.

For this reason, departure from this life is not even desirable to them, but rather something greatly to be shunned.

But for us, for whom to live is Christ and to die is gain, the falling asleep of our spiritual fathers is a turn to joy, since they live in the Lord, and that life is more exalted and more immortal than life here.

...for the governance of the men's monastery, and she for the governance of the convent of virgins. Be sober, be watchful, act like men, be strong.

Let all things among you be done in love, all in the keeping of the commandments, according to the precepts of Saint Basil, between you two monasteries, so that, living out a blameless and irreproachable life, both you men and you women, you may glorify God in your body and in your spirit, each monastery being fittingly formed and upheld by the other — namely by you, brother Basil, who have both written to us and received our approval — being present with, and lending assistance to, each of the two houses as far as possible.

And this is not to say that you do not bear the responsibility of a superior; rather, since your desire has been fulfilled through the one put forward accepting the office, you should all the more throw yourself in and join in upholding what is needful.

You have, then, good examples for the advancement of virtue: the sisters, or the brothers, who have departed this life.

You have the lives of the saints, the ordinances of the fathers.

You have what is greater than these: the Maker of all things, God, in your midst, according to his unfailing promise.

You have the holy Theotokos as your helper, and all the saints as your intercessors.

You have also our nothingness, eagerly disposed toward you in what is good.

Do all things well, therefore; carry all things through in peace; rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks — so cries out the great Apostle.

By whose intercessions may both we and you be saved.

[To Elias the Presbyter] Your kiss, O holy man of God, is most reverend indeed, and preserves the mark of oneness of soul; but your question — I know not how to put it — is unsuitable and out of keeping with our humble state.

For not even to this day have we heard of children being tonsured by a father forcibly and not willingly.

For if they are quite infants, that is, below the age of reason, the matter of willing does not lie with them.

For they are not able to discern good from evil, but the matter must be referred to the choice of those who begot them, as in the case of Hannah, who brought Samuel to God, and of those like her who had no fear for the future, as Gregory, surnamed the Theologian, says somewhere.

For he too had been given to God even before his birth.

whose offering does not always attain its end, on account of its having been done amiss by some.

And the point here concerns the person and the timing of those who are to be offered, because of the failures that occur; since some cases, as has been observed both long ago and now, have turned out well, while others have turned out to the contrary.

But when the children are of sound mind and of an age that comes under the law, for the parents to impose the perfection of monastic life upon them by force is a thing neither ever heard of nor in keeping with the principle of nature.

And since we have been called upon to give an account concerning matters beyond nature, lest we ourselves also be reckoned by the foolish as somehow unnatural — or rather senseless — let us set aside a full clarification on this point.

But you, faithful and God-beloved man, we remind and entreat to rightly divide the word of truth, having your word be as fire, in imitation of your namesake.

And admonish, exhort, and lead toward the light the monk who has given himself over to fornication, that he may recover from his fall and not make the members of Christ into the members of a harlot.

For perhaps, once the word has taken hold of him, it may at last, like a spark upon rather dry tinder, kindle the love of Christ in the inner man, who has an easy recovery, since his outer man has already been made monastic.

But the one who has utterly rejected his confession — as having offended against the Holy Spirit itself, from whom grace also comes — both you yourself and every one of the pious should reject, not even sharing salt with him, according to the commandments of the God-delivered oracles.

[To Makarios the Monk] Because we heard your brotherly voice, we rejoiced, beloved one.

For nothing is sweeter than spiritual friendship, especially when one mind and one soul is beheld in matters and words pertaining to God.

Thus you yourself have been known to us from of old and from the beginning.