By what reason and by what virtues he ascended to the pontificate is fully set forth. Summary of the argument.—1. On the family of blessed Gregory.—2. What he was.—3. On his education.—4. He is described as urban praetor.—5. He founded six monasteries in Sicily.—6. Serving in the monastery of his own house under abbots, he is afterward made abbot.—7. On Holy Saturday he is unable to fast.—8. He obtains from the Lord the strength to fast.—9. His mother Silvia habitually sends him vegetables.—10. Twice he is tested by an angel of God, but the third time is proved most generous.—11. A brother, twisting cord, is vexed by a demon and is delivered by Gregory.—12. A brother about to flee is blinded and delivered from the bites of a black dog.
—13. A brother attempting flight is seized by a demon and delivered by Gregory.—14. The hiding-place of the brothers is discovered through the immobility of the horses.—15. The brother Justus, for private property, is severely punished at his death.—16. His soul is delivered from the torments of hell.—17. With his sins forgiven, Antonius is bidden to die.—18. Gerontius, with certain brothers, declares that he is about to die.—19. The brother Merulus dreams that he is crowned with white flowers.—20. John, healed by the apostle, is summoned by one deceased.—21. He inquires about the English boys for sale.—22. About to set out for Britain to convert the English, he is called back.—23. Being confounded by three signs from the prelate, he is bidden to return.—24. By means of a locust he perceives that he will straightway return.
—25. Drawn away from the monastery, he is consecrated deacon.—26. He is sent to Constantinople as apocrisiarius.—27. He is earnestly entreated to expound the book of blessed Job.—28. Disputing with Eutychius, he is acknowledged the victor.—29. The book of Eutychius is consigned to the flames by the emperor.—30. Eutychius, dying, held the skin of his hand, saying that he would truly rise again in it.—31. The character of Gregory's office as apocrisiarius is declared.—32. A letter of Pope Pelagius is sent to Gregory.—33. Maximianus with his brethren is delivered from shipwreck.—34. The city of Rome is flooded by an overflowing of the Tiber.—35. The river Athesis is marvelously made solid.—36. When a dragon with beasts is killed in the sea, the air is corrupted.—37. With heavenly arrows bringing a plague.
The prelate Pelagius is carried off.—38. Theodorus, delivered from a dragon, is converted.—39. Gregory, unwilling, is elected to the pontificate.—40. Longing to escape the pontificate, he secretly sends letters to the emperor.—41. Before the assembly he preaches penance.—42. He locally ordains the sevenfold litany.—43. Eighty men are laid low by the pestilence.—44. Fleeing from the City, he is pointed out by a heavenly sign; and brought back, he is consecrated pontiff of the first see.—45. That he was unwilling to accept the highest priesthood is truly demonstrated.—46. The perfect quality of his discretion is shown.—47. He strove to be beyond the world and beyond the flesh, and to pant after the vision.—48. He grieved that the groaning of his own ruin was renewed.—49.
From the writings of the patriarch Anastasius he found, as it were, the rest of blessedness—receiving health, thirsting for the fountain, seeking shade in his burning heat.—50. From the charity and spirit of the illustrious Andreas he did not withdraw.—51. He experienced the goods of the excellence of John the ex-consul.—52. He was unwilling to reply to Leander, bishop of Seville, by the letters sent to him.—53. With great anguish of soul he undertook the highest priesthood.—54. No man is able to search out the judgments on high. Gregory, Roman by birth, a philosopher by training, son of Gordianus, a most distinguished man, and of blessed Silvia, presided over the Roman see for thirteen years, six months, and ten days, in the times of the emperors Tiberius, Maurice, and Phocas.
He, sprung from a senatorial stock, traced a genealogy as noble as it was most religious, so that Felix the fourth of that apostolic see, a pontiff of great reverence in the Church of Christ—who most beautifully built the basilica of the holy martyrs Cosmas and Damian on the Sacred Way beside the temple of Romulus, as is seen to this day—was his great-great-grandfather; and the blessed virgin Tharsilla, who at the point of death heard the harmony of the heavenly promise and merited to see Jesus Christ coming to receive her, was likewise his aunt (Bede, Book 2, chap. 1, History of the English; Gregory of Tours, Book 10 of the History; Book 4 of the Dialogues, chap. 16; Homily 38 on the Gospels).
This line of twofold nobility Gregory exalted by his holy character and adorned by his upright deeds, so much so that by a certain foreshadowing he was named in Greek that which in Latin resounds still more as 'the watchful one.' For while by his living works he fulfilled the right things which he was to teach, he thoroughly taught that he had indeed kept watch over himself; and while by teaching he also expounded the right things which he did, he is recognized to have kept watch not only for himself but also for the Christians of the age to come. 3. Indeed there were in him, together with a tender age, mature studies already; and, being one who would hear things unknown, he clung as a most diligent investigator to religious old men; and having received the seeds of doctrine, he gathered them to be chewed over in a tenacious memory, which he afterward poured out to the people from a honey-sweet throat.
Finally, being a docile youth, when—having passed through the pen common to rising infancy—he had come to the fork of the Pythagorean letter, without hesitation he began to leave the left branch with its worldly pleasure, and with heavenly desire to pant with all his strength toward the right. 4. But while, prolonging further the grace of his conversion, he thought he would serve Christ more safely if under the garb of urban praetor he served the world in outward appearance only, many things began to grow up against him out of the care of that same world; so that he was no longer held, as he had proposed, in outward show only, but also in mind. 5.
At length, bereft of his father, when he had obtained free power to dispose of his own affairs, building six monasteries in Sicily, he filled them with sufficient brethren, upon whom he bestowed as much of his estates as could suffice, without want, for the daily sustenance of those serving God there (Gregory of Tours, Book 10 of the History, chap. 1). 6. A seventh, within the walls of the city of Rome, in honor of the holy apostle Andrew, beside the basilica of the holy Ss. John and Paul at the Clivus Scauri, he built as a monastery in his own house.
In it, having left behind his silks, his robes gleaming with gold and gems, and likewise the rest of his furnishings—all bestowed for the use of the poor—he escaped naked from the shipwreck of this world; and taking on the long-desired monastic garb, he served by the regular path, first under Hilarion and then under Maximianus, venerable Fathers, with many brothers joined to him. But afterward, when he preferred to be subject, the votive concord of the brethren pressing upon him, he did not refuse to preside, as will appear in what follows. 7. So great was his abstinence from food, so great his assiduity in prayers and fastings, so great his desired zeal for the sacred books, that, his stomach being weakened, he seemed, when provoked, hardly able to survive.
For when at a certain time he suffered that cutting of the vitals which the Greeks call [syncope], and through frequent distresses drew near to death through the passing hours, and unless the brothers frequently refreshed him with food the vital spirit seemed to be utterly cut off from him, the Paschal day came upon him. And when, on the most sacred Saturday, on which all, even little children, fast, he could not fast, he began to fail more from grief than from infirmity (Book 3 of the Dialogues, chap. 33). 8.
Straightway he summoned the most holy man Eleutherius—who had long been set over many at Spoleto, but was then a monk of that same monastery of his, and from whom indeed he had heard that a dead man had been raised—and sought the oratory, and gave himself with tears to prayer, that at least on that day the strength to fast might be granted him. And after a little while, the prayer completed, having withdrawn, he recognized that his stomach had received such strength that both the food and the disease were utterly removed from his memory. He began to marvel with himself who he was, who he had been; and when the infirmity returned to his mind, he could recognize in himself nothing of those things which he remembered. And when his mind was occupied with the ordering of the monastery, he utterly forgot his sickness.
But if the sickness did return to his memory, since he felt himself so strong, he marveled that he had not eaten. Coming to evening, he recognized that such fortitude remained in him that he was able to prolong his fast to the following day. Yet although he was almost daily wasting away with languor, nevertheless he desired to grant his body no comfortable rest, so as not to hinder himself from praying, or reading, or writing, or dictating.
9. In the inner chambers of this sacred monastery, that same man of almighty God, Gregory, was fed on raw vegetables by his mother Silvia—who at that time was dwelling near the gate of the blessed apostle Paul, at a place called Cella Nova, where to this day an oratory is dedicated to her name, and the famous monastery of the confessor of Christ, Saint Sabas, whose praise seems established in the sixth and seventh synods. 10. When an angel of God found him here, engaged as was his custom in writing, he begged, in the guise of a shipwrecked man, that mercy be shown him, weeping piteously. Gregory, compassionate from the depths of his heart, gave him six coins and bade him depart (below, Book 2, chap. 23).
Not long after, on the same day, that same shipwrecked man returned, declaring that he had lost much but received little. Having in like manner taken six coins from him, he departed rejoicing. But returning on the third day, the shipwrecked man again with importunate cries kept demanding aid. To him the most generous Father, having summoned the keeper of the wardrobe, bade six more coins be given; but he learned that in the wardrobe there was no money left. He did not know what to do. The piety of a heart devoted to God was in anguish, not enduring to have left empty the misery of his neighbor.
Again questioning his wardrobe-keeper whether he had any vessel of any kind, or garment, he heard that nothing at all remained except his mother's silver bowl, in which she had been accustomed to send steeped vegetables. Straightway made more cheerful, he said: Then, brother, carry this, lest he who seeks to be consoled go away sorrowful, a poor man. And so, the bowl being brought and Gregory bestowing it quite cheerfully, the poor man—as he was thought to be—joyfully embraced it, being about to return no longer to seek assistance, but to bestow it.
By this angelic visitation he was made renowned with so many miracles and so many virtues that he became to all who lived with him both an example and an object of awe—inasmuch as he was thought to have presided over his monastery not alone, but in fellowship with the blessed apostle Andrew, by evident signs. 11. For, to speak a little of things left unspoken: on a certain day he sent from there two brothers, who were to buy something for the benefit of that monastery—one the younger, who seemed the more prudent, the other the elder, who was to be the guardian of the younger. Both set out; and out of the money which they had received, the very one who had been sent as guardian, unknown to the other, committed a theft.
As soon as they returned to the monastery and came before the threshold of the oratory, the one who had committed the theft, seized by a demon, fell down. And when he had been released by the demon, the monks running together, he was questioned at the abbot's command, lest perhaps he had committed a theft from what he had received. He denied it, and again was vexed. Released and questioned again, he denied it, and again was vexed. Eight times, then, he denied, eight times he was vexed. But after the eighth denial, at Gregory's questioning, he confessed that he had stolen the coins by theft, and prostrate before him testified that he had sinned; and having received penance, the demon no longer came upon him. 12.
At another time also, when on the birthday of that same apostle, at the noon hours, the brothers were resting, suddenly a certain brother, his eyes open yet blinded, began to tremble and to send forth mighty cries, by which cries he testified that he could not bear what he was suffering. The brothers ran together; they saw the blind man trembling with open eyes and crying out, estranged from those present, and perceiving nothing of what could be done outwardly. They lifted him in their hands and, at Gregory's command, laid him before the altar of the holy apostle Andrew, and they themselves prostrated in prayer for him. Straightway returning to himself, he confessed that a certain old man had appeared to him and had sent a black dog to tear him, saying:
Why did you wish to flee from this monastery? And when I could in no way escape the bites of the dog, certain monks came and entreated that same old man on my behalf, who straightway ordered the dog to depart; and so I myself returned to my senses. This man also afterward often confessed, saying that on that day on which he had endured these things, he had formed a plan of fleeing from the monastery. 13. Another monk also wished secretly to depart from that same monastery; and when he had turned this over in his mind, he wished to enter the oratory, but was unable, being seized by a demon. He was left alone by the demon as long as he stood outside the oratory; if he tried to enter, straightway, handed over to the malignant spirit, he was vexed.
When this happened rather often, at length, at Gregory's inquiry, he confessed that he had wished to flee from the monastery; and by divine mercy, together with the prayers of the brothers, he was so cured over the course of three days that afterward the malignant spirit never attempted to approach him. 14. At another time also two brothers fled from that same Father's monastery, who had earlier, by conversing, given certain signs to the brethren that, descending by the Appian Way, they were making for Jerusalem. These, going out, turned aside from the road; and, so that they might in no way be found by those following, finding some hidden crypts beside the Flaminian gate, they concealed themselves in them.
But when, at the evening hours, at Gregory's command they were sought and were by no means found in the congregation, certain brothers, having mounted horses, followed them, going out through the Metronian gate, so as to pursue them on the Latin or the Appian Way. Suddenly a thought arose in them that they ought to seek them on the Salarian Way, outside the city. Therefore, proceeding, they bent their course, and, not finding them on the Old Salarian Way, they decided to return by the Flaminian gate. And as they were returning, as soon as the horses came before those crypts in which the monks had hidden themselves, they fixed their step; struck and driven, they refused to move a pace.
The horsemen considered that such a thing could not be without a mystery; they attended to the crypts, and saw their entrances condemned beforehand by a wall of masonry set in place; but their horses being nowhere willing to go, they dismounted, and removing the stones which had been arranged at the mouths of the crypts, they entered, and found the monks cast down upon the ground in those same dark hiding-places, dumbfounded. Brought back to the monastery, they were so improved both by amazement at the miracle and by the exhortation of the venerable Father Gregory, that it was of great profit to them to have withdrawn from the monastery for that little space of time. 15.
At another time also a certain monk, Justus by name, skilled in the art of medicine, had been accustomed to serve blessed Gregory diligently and to keep watch in his frequent illnesses. This man, then, overtaken by bodily weakness, was brought to his last extremity; and in that very affliction his own brother, Copiosus by name, was serving him (Book 4 of the Dialogues, chap. 55). But the aforesaid Justus, when he now recognized that he had come to his last hour, made known to that same brother Copiosus that he had three gold coins hidden. This indeed could not be concealed from the brethren, who, searching subtly and examining all his medicines, found those same three gold coins hidden in a medicament.
As soon as this was reported to Gregory, he could not bear with equanimity so great an evil in a brother who had lived in community with him, inasmuch as he had long since established a rule for that monastery, that all the brothers should live so in common that none of them individually was permitted to have anything of his own. Then Gregory, stricken with exceeding grief, began to consider both what he might do for the purgation of the dying man, and what he might provide as an example for the living. Therefore, having summoned to himself the prior of that same monastery, Pretiosus, he said:
«See that none of the brothers join himself to that dying man, nor let him receive from the mouth of any one of them a word of consolation; but when, set in death, he shall ask for the brothers, let his own carnal brother tell him that, on account of the coins which he secretly kept, he is held in abomination by all the brothers; that at least in death the bitterness may pierce through his mind concerning his fault, and cleanse him from the sin which he committed. And when he shall be dead, let his body not be placed with the bodies of the brothers; but make a shallow pit somewhere in a dunghill, and in it cast the body, and there throw upon him the three gold coins which he left, all crying out together: Your money be with you unto perdition; and so cover him with earth.»
In both of these matters the most skillful Father Gregory willed the one to profit the dying man, the other to profit the living: that both the bitterness of death might make that man loosed from his fault, and that so great a condemnation of avarice might restrain these others from being mingled with such deeds, and restrain them from the fault. And so it was done. For when that same monk had come to death, and anxiously sought to be commended to the brothers, and no one of the brothers attempted to be joined to him or to speak to him, his carnal brother disclosed to him why he was held in abomination by all. As soon as he heard this, he groaned vehemently over his guilt, and in that very sorrow departed from the body. He was buried thus, as Gregory had commanded.
But all the brothers, disturbed by that same sentence upon him, began each to bring into the midst even the most trifling and cheap things—those which by the rule they had always been permitted to have—and vehemently to dread lest there be anything with them for which they could be reproved. 16. But when, after the brother's death, thirty days had now passed, the spirit of Gregory began mercifully to have compassion on him, and to weigh with heavy grief his punishments, and to seek what remedy of his deliverance there might be. Then, having called to himself that same Pretiosus, prior of his monastery, he said sorrowfully: It is long that brother Justus, who is dead, is tormented in the fire;
we ought to expend upon him some measure of charity, and to lend him aid, as far as we can, that he may be rescued. Go therefore, and from this present day for thirty continuous days take care to offer the sacrifice for him, so that no day at all be passed over on which the saving Victim is not offered for his absolution. He straightway departed and obeyed the words. But while Gregory was taking care, and by no means counting the days as they passed, that same brother who had died appeared by a vision one night to his brother Copiosus. When Copiosus had seen him, he inquired, saying: What is it, brother? How are you? To which he himself replied: Until now I have fared ill, but now at last I am well, because today I received communion.
This same Copiosus, going straightway into the monastery, made known to the brothers. But the brothers carefully computed the days, and found it to be that very day on which the thirtieth oblation had been completed for him; for while Copiosus did not know what the brothers, at Gregory's instigation, were doing for him, and the brothers were ignorant of what Copiosus had seen concerning him, at one and the same time, while the one perceives the oblation, the others hear of the dream and recognize the thirtieth day; and, the vision and the sacrifice concurring together, the matter clearly shone forth, that the brother whom, under the sentence of judgment, Gregory had permitted to die, had by the saving Victim been delivered from punishment (Book 4 of the Dialogues, chap. 55). 17.
But since that same venerable Father—in what manner he was an object of awe to the brothers—I have already in part touched upon, I have thought it should be briefly indicated in what way those same brothers profited by his examples. A certain brother in that same monastery, Antonius by name, clung diligently to blessed Gregory, who, admonished by the words and examples of so great a Father, with many daily tears panted after the joys of the heavenly homeland. And when most zealously, with great fervor of desire, under Gregory's guidance, he searched the sacred discourses, he sought in them not the words of knowledge, but the weeping of compunction, so that through these his kindled mind might be set ablaze, and, forsaking the depths, might fly upward to the contemplation of the heavenly homeland. To this man it was said in a nocturnal vision:
You are ready, and, because the Lord has commanded, depart. And when he said that he had no provision for departing, he straightway heard the answer, saying: If it is a matter of your sins, they are forgiven. When he had heard this once, and still trembled with great fear, on another night also he was admonished in the same words. But after five days, seized by a fever, while all the brothers were praying and weeping, he died (Book 4 of the Dialogues, chap. 47). 18. In the same monastery a certain brother was called Gerontius, who, when he had been depressed by a grievous affliction of the body, saw in a nocturnal vision men clothed in white and of altogether radiant appearance descending from above into this very monastery.
And when they stood before the bed of the one lying there, one of them said: For this we have come, that we may send certain brothers from Gregory's monastery into the [heavenly] warfare; and, giving command to another, he added: Write down Marcellus, Valentinianus, Agnellus, and others, whose acquaintance I do not have. When these things were finished, he added, saying: Write down also this very man who is looking at us. From which vision Gerontius, made certain, when morning had come, made known to the brothers how many and who they were from that same monastery who were to die, and that he himself would straightway follow them.
When on another day the aforesaid brothers began to die, they followed one another into death in the same order in which they had been named in the writing; and at the last, he himself also died, who had foreseen those same brothers about to die. 19. Another brother also in the same monastery was called Merulus, vehemently intent on tears and almsgiving, from the teaching of Gregory, the venerable man; and psalmody was accustomed to cease from his mouth at almost no time, except when he gave either nourishment to the body or his limbs to sleep. To this man it appeared in a nocturnal vision that a crown of white flowers was descending from heaven upon his head; and he, soon overtaken by an affliction of the body, died with great security of soul and cheerfulness.
At his tomb, when after fourteen years Peter, who during the pontificate of this Gregory presided over that same monastery, wished to prepare a burial-place for himself, so great a fragrance of sweetness poured forth from that same tomb of brother Merulus, as though the perfumes of every flower had been heaped up there. From this it plainly appeared that what the disciple of so great a Father had seen through a nocturnal vision was true (Dialogues, book iv, ch. 47). 20. Another as well in the same monastery, John by name, a youth of great natural gifts, surpassed his own age in the sweetness of understanding and of humility and in gravity of manners, under Gregory's guidance.
To this youth, when he lay sick and was brought to the point of death, the blessed apostle Andrew appeared through a nocturnal vision in the guise of an old man, and touched him with a rod and said to him: 「Arise; for from this affliction thou shalt by no means now die, but be prepared, since thou shalt not be here a long time.」 And when he had already been given up by the physicians, he was suddenly healed and recovered. He related the thing he had seen, and, as I have foretold, showed himself for two years in the service of God beyond the years of his age:
But when two years had rolled by, and a certain brother had died and been buried by Gregory and the brethren in the cemetery of that same monastery, and while all were departing thence, that same John—as afterward, pale and trembling, he made known to Gregory and the brethren—being found alone, was called from the tomb by that same brother who had been buried. And soon the ensuing end also made this plain. For after ten days, seized by fevers, he by dying followed the one who called. But since it is long, and many things remain that can be proclaimed with sure attestations concerning this man's sanctity—things which I have learned both from the account of my elders and from the writings of earlier men—I have resolved that they should be inserted here. 21.
On a certain day, when, upon the arrival of merchants newly come, many wares had been set out for sale in the forum of the city of Rome, and many had flocked together from every side to buy, it happened that Gregory too—a man most worthy of God—passed by. And seeing among other things boys white of body, most beautiful in form, comely of countenance, and conspicuous also for the sheen of their hair, being offered for sale, he asked the merchant from what country he had brought them. He answered: 「From the island of Britain, whose inhabitants all have faces gleaming with a like whiteness.」 Gregory said: 「Are these islanders Christians, or are they still held entangled in pagan errors?」 The merchant answered: 「They are not Christians, but are held ensnared in pagan toils.」
Then Gregory, groaning bitterly, said: 「Alas! oh grief! how splendid the faces that the prince of darkness now possesses, and how great a beauty of brow bears within it a mind void of the inner grace of God!」 Again he asked what was the name of that people. The merchant answered: 「They are called Angli (Angles).」 And he said: 「Well—Angli, as it were angeli (angels), since they have both angelic faces, and such ought to be fellow-citizens of the angels in heaven.」 Again therefore he asked what name the province itself had. The merchant answered: 「Those provincials are called Deiri.」 And Gregory: 「Well,」 he said, 「Deiri, since they are to be rescued de ira (from wrath), and summoned to the grace of Christ. And the king,」 he said, 「of that province, how is he named?」 The merchant answered:
「He is called Aelle.」 And Gregory, playing upon the name, said: 「Well, since that province's king is called Aelle. For 『Alleluia』 in praise of the Creator ought to be sung in those parts」 (Bede, book ii, ch. 1, History of the English). 22. Soon therefore, going to Benedict, pontiff of the apostolic see, he began earnestly to entreat that he would send some ministers of the word into Britain. And when he perceived that no one was willing to go, he did not hesitate to offer even himself, provided only the pontiff would grant him leave. And although with great hesitation of the whole clergy and people, he permitted Gregory, who of his own will desired to set out, to depart, praying that prosperous things might be ministered to him by God. 23.
Greatly disturbed by his departure, the Romans, after taking deliberate counsel, stationed themselves in threefold manner along the streets adjoining the route by which the pontiff was to set out for the basilica of blessed Peter, and in throngs thus addressed him: 「Thou hast offended Peter, thou hast destroyed Rome, because thou hast let Gregory go.」 Utterly terrified by these declarations, the pope at once sent messengers to recall Gregory, the man of the Lord. And this he himself had foretold would come to pass to those journeying with him. 24. And now, three days' journey having been accomplished, they had by chance turned aside to a certain place to rest; and while each was resting, Gregory was reading.
A locust, coming upon him, compelled him to rest a little from his reading, and from a consideration of its name taught him that he ought to stay (stare) in that same place (loco). [Then he is reported to have said: 「It can be called locusta (locust), as it were loco sta—stay in the place.」] And at once, having exhorted his companions, he strove to go the more hastily; but with the apostolic messengers arriving before him, although he grieved exceedingly, he was nevertheless compelled to return to the care of his own monastery. 25. Finally Benedict, the venerable pontiff, perceiving Gregory to ascend to the heights by the steps of the virtues, forcibly drawing him away from the quiet of his monastery, exalted him with the office of ecclesiastical order, and consecrated him seventh deacon (levite) for his own assistance.
In which office the venerable levite Gregory flourished with such humility, ministered with such diligence, that in the ministry of the ecclesiastical hierarchy he seemed in some manner to be made equal to the divine angels, not only in the brightness of his vesture, but even in the splendour of his praiseworthy manners. 26. And not long after, he was sent for ecclesiastical business to the city of Constantinople by Pelagius the prelate, where, although he lived in an earthly palace, he did not interrupt his purpose of heavenly life. For not a few brethren from his monastery followed him, bound to him by a genuine charity.
1:44
Quoddivinafactumdispensationeconspicitur, uteorumvidelicetexemploadorationisplacidumlittusquasianchoraefunestringeretur, etdumcausarumsacculariumcontinuatisvertiginibusfluctuaret, adillorumconsortium, velutadtutissimiportusasinum, refugeret. Aclicetilludeummini-storiumamonasterioabstractumapristinaequoquequietisvitamucronesuaeoccupationisexstinxerat, intereostamenperstudiosaelectionisalloquiumquo-tidianaeaspiratiocompunctionisanimabat ( Bed. lib. ii, c. 1, Histor. Angl.). 27. Horumergoconsortiononsolumaterrenisestmunitusincursibus, verumetiamadvitaecoelestisexercitiamagismagisquesuccensus.
This is seen to have been done by divine dispensation, namely that by their example he might, as by an anchor's rope, be held fast to the peaceful shore of prayer, and that, while he was tossed by the continual whirlings of secular affairs, he might flee back to their fellowship as to the bosom of a most safe harbour. And although that ministry, having withdrawn him from the monastery, had also, with the sword of its occupation, cut off the former life of his repose, yet among them the daily breathing of compunction gave him life through the discourse of diligent reading (Bede, book ii, ch. 1, History of the English). 27. By the fellowship of these, therefore, he was not only fortified against earthly assaults, but also more and more kindled to the exercises of the heavenly life.
For being earnestly begged by these same brethren, and above all urged by Leander, bishop of Seville, who at that time had come to Constantinople as legate on behalf of the affairs of the Visigoths, he was constrained to unfold the book of blessed Job, which is wrapped in many mysteries (Letter in the exposition of blessed Job, ch. 1). Nor could he refuse a work which fraternal love laid upon him as destined to be useful to many; but that same book—how it is to be understood according to the letter, how it is to be referred to the sacraments (mysteries) of Christ and the Church, in what sense it is to be fitted to each of the faithful—he taught most thoroughly by a wondrous method through the threefold species of understanding:
1:46
inquibustamenitadevirtutibusvitiisquedisseruit, utnonsolumvideatureademverbisexponere, sedfor-misquodammodovisibilibusseupalpabilibusdemon-strare. Undenonestdubiumperfectionemipsarumeumconsecutumfuissevirtutum, quarumtaraeffica-citervaluitindicareprofectus. 28. PraetereavenerabilislevitaGregoriusineademurberegiaconstitutus, nascentemnovamhaeresimdestatunostraeresurrectioniscumipsoquoortaestinitio, djuvantegratiacatholicaeveritatis, attrivit ( Lib. xivMor. n. 72 etseq. Bedalib. i, c. 1, Histor. Anglic.).
in which, moreover, he so discoursed of the virtues and vices that he seems not only to expound them in words, but in some manner to demonstrate them in visible or even palpable forms. Whence there is no doubt that he himself attained the perfection of those very virtues, whose advances he was able so effectually to point out. 28. Besides, the venerable levite Gregory, being established in that same royal city, ground down—by the help of the grace of catholic truth—a new heresy springing up concerning the state of our resurrection, at the very beginning at which it arose (Moralia, book xiv, no. 72 and following; Bede, book i, ch. 1, History of the English).
For Eutychius, bishop of that same city, having composed a book On the Resurrection of the Dead, taught as a dogma that our body in that glory of the resurrection would be impalpable, more subtle than the winds and the air. Hearing this, Gregory proved, both by the reasoning of truth and by the example of the Lord's resurrection, that this dogma was in every way contrary to orthodox faith. For the catholic faith holds that our body, exalted in that glory of immortality, is indeed subtle through the effect of a spiritual power, but palpable through the truth of its nature, according to the example of the Lord's body, of which, when raised from the dead, He Himself says to His disciples:
「Handle and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as you see me to have」 (Luke xxiv, 39). And when Gregory had brought forward this testimony of evangelical truth, Eutychius said: 「The Lord did this for this reason, that He might remove the doubt of His resurrection from the hearts of the disciples.」 Gregory said to him: 「A very marvellous thing is that which thou allegest, that from thence doubt should arise for us, whence the hearts of the disciples were healed of doubt. For what worse can be said than that this concerning His true flesh should be made doubtful to us, through which His disciples were restored to faith out of all doubt?
For if it be alleged that He did not have what He showed, whence the faith of His disciples was confirmed, thence ours is destroyed.」 Eutychius said: 「He had a palpable body, which He showed; but after the hearts of those who handled Him were confirmed, all that in the Lord which could be handled was reduced into some subtlety.」 To this Gregory answered: 「It is written: 『Christ rising from the dead now dieth no more, death shall no more have dominion over him』 (Romans vi, 9). If therefore anything in His body could have been changed after the resurrection, against the truthful sentence of Paul, the Lord returned into death after the resurrection. And who but a fool would presume to say this, save one who denies the true resurrection of His flesh?」
Then Eutychius objected, saying: 「Since it is written: 『Flesh and blood cannot possess the kingdom of God』 (1 Cor. xv, 50), by what reasoning is it to be believed that the flesh truly rises?」 To him Gregory answered: 「In sacred speech, flesh is spoken of in one way according to nature, and in another according to fault or corruption. Flesh indeed is spoken of according to nature, as it is written: 『This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh』 (Gen. ii, 23). And: 『The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us』 (John i, 14). But flesh according to fault, as it is written: 『My spirit shall not remain in these men, because they are flesh』 (Gen. vi, 3). And as the Psalmist says: 『He remembered that they are flesh:
a wind that goeth and returneth not』 (Psalm lxxvii, 39). Whence also the disciple Paul said: 『But you are not in the flesh, but in the spirit』 (Rom. viii, 9); for they were not not in the flesh to whom he sent his epistles; but because they had conquered the passions of carnal desires, being now free through the power of the spirit, they were not in the flesh. What therefore Paul the apostle says—『that flesh and blood cannot possess the kingdom of God』 (1 Cor. xv, 50)—he willed to be understood of flesh according to fault, not of flesh according to nature. Whence also soon after, to show that he spoke of flesh according to fault, he added: 『Neither shall corruption possess incorruption.』
In that heavenly glory, therefore, the flesh will be according to nature, but it will not be according to the desires of passion, because, the sting of death being overcome, it shall reign in eternal incorruption.」 Having heard these things, Eutychius answered that he forthwith consented; yet still he denied that a palpable body could rise: he who also, in the little book which he had written on the resurrection, had inserted the testimony of Paul likewise, saying: 「『That which thou sowest is not quickened, except it first die; and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not the body that shall be, but bare grain』 (1 Cor. xv, 36).」
Hastening indeed to show by this that either the flesh will be palpable, or it will not be itself, since the holy Apostle, treating of the glory of the resurrection, said that not the body which is to be is sown, but bare grain. But to this Gregory answered: 「Paul the apostle, saying: 『Thou sowest not the body that shall be, but bare grain,』 conveys this which we see, namely that the grain is born with stalk and leaves, which is sown without stalk and leaves. He therefore, in speaking of the increase of the glory of the resurrection, did not say that there is lacking to the grain of seed what it was, but that there is present what it was not. But thou, in denying that the true body rises, by no means sayest that there is present what was lacking, but that there is lacking what was.」 29.
Then accordingly Gregory the Roman deacon and Eutychius the Constantinopolitan bishop, being led into a long contention over this matter, began to draw back from one another with a most grievous estrangement. Then the emperor Tiberius Constantine, of pious memory, receiving each of them privately, learned what discord was at issue between them, and, subtly weighing the allegation of each party, overturning by his own allegations that same book which Eutychius had composed on the resurrection, decreed that it ought to be consumed by flames. And as soon as they had together departed from that most pious emperor, after the conflict of a very long disputation, both alike falling sick, they took to their beds. 30.
When therefore Gregory was burning with the most violent fevers, Eutychius, wrestling with death, held the skin of his own hand before all, saying: 「I confess that we shall all rise in this flesh.」 After which confession of the catholic faith he died; and when he was dead, since there was scarcely anyone who would follow his sayings, Gregory forbore to pursue what he had begun, lest he should seem to hurl words into ashes. 31.
But with what great authority he fulfilled the ministry of his apocrisiarius' office (his legateship), in what great reverence he stood among the Augusti (emperors), and with what great solicitude he often caused succour to be brought to afflicted Italy—if anyone desires to know this more fully, let him run through the letters of his predecessor pope Pelagius, addressed to him concerning the manifold necessities of the Church of God, which are to this day most carefully preserved in the archive of the holy apostolic see; out of the multitude of which I here insert one, so that both the character of that ministry and the tenor of the rest may be known. It is as follows: 32. 「Pelagius the bishop, to his beloved son Gregory, the venerable deacon.
All the things indeed that were necessary we have taken care to make known to thee through the notary Honoratus; whom, together with our brother and fellow-bishop Sebastian, we have directed to thy affection, so that, since he was in those parts until now at Ravenna with the glorious lord Decius the patrician, he himself may endeavour by his report to inform thee about all things; or, if you judge anything necessary, he may be able to suggest it to the lord emperor. For such great calamities and tribulations have been brought upon us by the perfidy of the Lombards, against their own oath, that no one can suffice to relate them.
But how we have received the aforesaid brother Sebastian, and in how great affection he has been with us at thy suggestion, thou wilt be able to know by his own report. He also promised us that he would suggest the necessities and perils of all Italy to the most pious lord emperor. Speak therefore and treat together, in what manner you may be able speedily to succour our perils: for the commonwealth is here so straitened, that unless God shall inspire in the heart of the most pious prince to bestow upon his servants the mercy implanted in him, and above
deign to grant that reinforcement (diacoposis), or one master of the soldiers (magister militum) and one duke (dux), we shall be left destitute in every distress, since especially the regions of Rome appear emptied of every garrison, and the exarch writes that he can furnish us no remedy, inasmuch as he testifies that he cannot even suffice to guard those parts. May God therefore command him swiftly to come to the aid of our perils, before the army of that most impious nation—God being contrary to it, which may He avert—should prevail to occupy the places which are still held by the commonwealth. But make haste, with God's help, to send back the presbyter to us, since he is recognized to be altogether necessary both in thy monastery and in the work over which we have set him.
Given on the fourth of the Nones of October, in the third indiction」 (Councils, vol. V, letter 3). 33. Over this monastery of his, which pope Pelagius here mentions, there presided at that same time Maximianus the Sicilian, who afterward became bishop of Syracuse. He came with the brethren, for the sake of a visit, to the venerable levite Gregory, who was toiling for ecclesiastical business in the palace of that royal city (book iii, Dialogues, ch. 36); and while he was returning to Rome to the monastery likewise committed to him, being caught in the Adriatic sea by an exceeding great storm, he came to know, in an unestimable and unaccustomed manner, both the wrath and the grace of almighty God toward himself and all who were with him.
For when, in their peril, the waves, raised up by the excesses of the winds, were raging, the rudder-pins were lost from the ship, the mast was cut away, the sails were flung into the waves, and the whole vessel of the ship, shaken by the excessive waves, had been loosed from all its framework. And so, with the seams gaping open, the sea entered and filled it up to the upper planks; so that the ship no longer seemed to be among the waves so much as the waves now within the ship. Then those sitting in that same ship, troubled now not by the nearness of death, but by its very present sight, all gave peace to one another, received the body and blood of the Redeemer, each commending himself to God, that He would kindly receive their souls, whose bodies He had thus delivered over to a dreadful death.
But almighty God, who marvellously terrified their minds, also, through the merit of Gregory His servant—for whose special love they had come—more marvellously preserved their life. For during eight days that same ship, full of water up to the upper planks, accomplishing its own voyage, kept afloat. And on the ninth day it was brought to the harbour of the fortress of Crotona. From it came forth all unharmed who were sailing with the aforesaid venerable man Maximianus. And when after them he himself also had gone forth, straightway the ship was sunk into the depth of that same harbour, as though, upon their going forth, it had lost its buoyancy on account of the weight;
and the waters which, full of men, it had carried and swum through on the open sea, once Maximianus with the brethren had withdrawn, that water, without men, in the harbour it could neither carry nor swim over; so that hereby almighty God might show that, through the merit of Gregory, whom the brethren had visited, He had held up this laden ship with His own hand, which, emptied of men, could not remain afloat upon the waters. 34.
Therefore, after Gregory the venerable levite had returned to Rome, some little time being interposed, the river Tiber went out of its channel with so great an inundation, and swelled so much, that its flood flowed over the walls of the city, and occupied in it the largest districts, and cast down very many monuments of ancient buildings, and violently overthrew the ecclesiastical granaries also, in which not a few thousand measures (modii) of wheat perished. 35. Then indeed, at the city of Verona, the river Athesis (Adige), as the same Gregory relates (book iii, Dialogues, ch. 19), overflowing, came up to the church of blessed Zeno, martyr and pontiff. And while the doors of that church were open, the water in no way entered into it.
Which, growing a little, came up to the windows of the church, which were near the roof: and thus the standing water closed the door of the church, as if that liquid element had been changed into the solidity of a wall. And when many were found within, but, surrounded on every side by the greatness of the waters, they had no way by which they might go out, and there feared to fail from hunger and thirst, they came to the door of the church, and to drink drew the water which had risen up to the windows, and yet within the church it in no way flowed in. Standing before the door, to show to all the merit of the martyr, the water was both a help, and the water was not there to occupy the place.
1:66
QuodnimirummiraculumBabyloniciilliusignismiraculonondissi-milepoteritaestimari, quitriumpuerorumetvesti-mentanontetigit, etvinculaincendit ( Dan. iii ). 36. Tuncetiaminnumerabilismultitudoserpen-tiumcummagnodracone, inmodumtrabisvalidaeperTiberinifluminisalveum, inmaredescendit; sedsuffocataebestiaeintersalsosmaristurbidissimiflu-ctussinemorainlittoredecideruntsuaqueputredinetotumacremcorruperunt ( Gregor. Tur., I. xHist. c. 1). 37. Secutaestevestigiocladesinguinaria, quaeRomanamurbemadeovehementipestilentialania-vit, utetiamcorporalivisusagittaecoelitusvenire, etsingulosquosquepercutereviderentur.
Which miracle indeed can be reckoned not unlike that miracle of the Babylonian fire, which both touched not the garments of the three children, and burned their bonds (Daniel iii). 36. Then also an innumerable multitude of serpents, with a great dragon, in the manner of a stout beam, descended through the channel of the river Tiber into the sea; but the beasts, suffocated among the salt waves of the most turbid sea, without delay fell upon the shore, and by their putrefaction corrupted all the air (Gregory of Tours, book x, History, ch. 1). 37. There followed forthwith a plague of the groin (bubonic plague), which so tore the city of Rome with a violent pestilence, that even to the bodily sight arrows seemed to come from heaven and to strike each and every one.
Which, coming in the eleventh month, first of all—according to that which is read in the prophet Ezekiel: 『Begin at my sanctuary』 (Ezek. ix, 6)—smote pope Pelagius, and without delay extinguished him. And when he was dead, it so raged upon the remaining common people, that, the inhabitants being carried off, it left very many houses in the city entirely empty. 38. At the same time, in the monastery of the venerable levite Gregory, there was a very restless boy, Theodore by name, who dwelt with a religious brother more from necessity than from will, to whom it was exceedingly grievous if anyone said anything to him for his own salvation. And he could not only not do good, but not even hear it.
He testified, by swearing, by raging, and by mocking, that he would never come to the habit of holy conversation (monastic life): who nevertheless, being smitten by the calamity of that same plague in the groin, was brought to death. And when he was drawing his last breath, the brethren gathered together with Gregory, that by praying they might protect his departure. Already his body had been fore-dead from its extreme part; in the breast alone did the vital warmth still pant. But all the brethren who were present began to pray for him the more earnestly, the more they saw him now departing in haste, when suddenly he began, while those same brethren stood by, to cry out, and with great voices to interrupt their prayers, saying:
「Depart! behold, I am given over to a dragon to be devoured, who because of your presence cannot devour me. He has already swallowed my head into his mouth; give place, that he may torment me no longer, but do what he is about to do. If I have been given to him to be devoured, why do I suffer delays because of you?」 Then the brethren with Gregory began to say to him: 「What is this that thou speakest, brother? Imprint upon thyself the sign of the holy cross.」 He answered with great cries, saying: 「I wish to sign myself, but I cannot, because I am pressed by the scales of this dragon.」 And when the brethren heard this, together with Gregory the levite of God, prostrated upon the ground, with tears they began the more vehemently to beseech the Lord for his deliverance.
And behold, suddenly the sick man began to cry out with great voices, saying: 「Thanks be to God! behold, the dragon which had taken me to devour has fled, driven out by your prayers he could not stand. Now intercede for my sins, since I am prepared to be converted and to forsake the secular life utterly.」 The man therefore who, as has already been said, had been fore-dead from his extreme part, both was spared bodily death by Gregory's prayers, and acquired the salvation of his soul (book iv, Dialogues, ch. 38). 39. But the pestilence raging beyond measure, since the Church of God could not be without a ruler, the clergy, senate, and Roman people harmoniously chose Gregory as their pontiff, though he resisted with all his strength.
He, determining to avoid that summit (dignity) with all his strength, kept crying out that he was altogether unworthy of such an honour; fearing, namely, lest the glory of the world, which he had previously cast away, might in some manner steal back upon him under the colour of ecclesiastical governance. 40. But when he could not escape the decree of the general body, he pretended that he would at length at some time consent, and secretly sent letters to the emperor Maurice, whose son he had received from the holy font (as godfather), adjuring him, and with much entreaty demanding, that he should never give his assent to the peoples that he might be exalted with the glory of this honour. But the prefect of the city, Germanus by name, anticipated his messenger, and having seized him and torn up the letters, directed to the emperor the consent which the people had made.
But he, giving thanks to God for the deacon's friendship, in that he had found a place to confer upon him the honour, as he had desired, giving order, commanded that he himself should be ordained. 41. Meanwhile, while the imperial assent was awaited from the royal city, and the plague itself was more violently devastating the people, the venerable levite Gregory began his address to the populace, saying: 「It behoves us, dearest brethren, that the scourges of God, which we ought to have feared as coming, we should at least fear now that they are present and experienced. Let sorrow open to us the entrance of conversion, and let the very punishment which we now suffer dissolve the hardness of our heart. For as it is foretold by the prophet's witness: 『The sword hath reached even unto the soul』 (Jeremiah iv, 10).
For behold, all the common people are smitten with the sword of heavenly wrath, and each one is laid waste by sudden slaughter; nor does sickness go before death, but, as you see, death itself outruns the delays of sickness. Each one, when smitten, is snatched away before he can be converted to the laments of penitence. Weigh therefore what manner of man comes before the sight of the strict Judge, to whom it is not permitted to weep for what he has done. And the inhabitants indeed are not withdrawn in part, but fall together. Houses are left empty, parents behold the funerals of their children, and their heirs go before them to destruction. Let each one of us therefore flee to the laments of penitence, while there is leisure to weep before the stroke.
Let us recall before the eyes of the mind whatever we have committed by erring, and what we have wickedly done, let us punish by weeping. Let us come before His face in confession (Psalm xciv, 2), and, as the prophet admonishes, let us lift up our hearts with our hands to God (Lamentations iii, 41). To lift up hearts with hands to God is indeed to raise up the zeal of our prayer together with the merit of good working. He assuredly gives, He gives confidence to our trembling, who cries through the prophet: 『I will not the death of the sinner, but that he be converted and live』 (Ezek. xxxiii, 11). But let no one despair of the enormity of his iniquities.」
For a three-day penance wiped away the inveterate sins of the Ninevites (Jonah 3:10), and the converted thief earned the rewards of life even in the very sentence of his death (Luke 23). Let us therefore change our hearts, and let us presume that we have already received what we ask. The Judge is more quickly bent toward our prayer if the petitioner corrects himself from his own wickedness; therefore, while the sword of so great a chastisement hangs over us, let us press on with importunate prayers. For that importunity which is wont to be displeasing to men is pleasing to the Judge of truth, since the God who is loving and merciful wills that pardon be exacted of Him by prayers, because He does not wish to be angry to the measure that we deserve. Hence indeed He said through the Psalmist: Call upon me in the day of thy tribulation;
I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me (Psalm 49:15). He therefore is His own witness that He desires to have mercy on those who call upon Him, since He admonishes that He be called upon. Wherefore, dearest brethren, with contrite heart and amended works, on the morrow, at the first dawn, let us come with devout mind and with tears to the sevenfold litany, according to the distribution designated below. Let none of you go out to earthly labors in the fields; let none presume to transact any business whatsoever, so that, gathering together at the church of the holy Mother of God, we who all alike have sinned may all alike bewail the evils we have done, that the strict Judge, while He considers that we have punished our own faults, may Himself spare us from the sentence of the condemnation He had appointed.
(This oration is extant after the homily.) 42. Let the litany of the clergy set out from the church of Saint John the Baptist; the litany of the men from the church of the holy martyr Marcellus; the litany of the monks from the church of the holy martyrs John and Paul; the litany of the handmaids of God from the church of the blessed martyrs Cosmas and Damian; the litany of the married women from the church of the blessed first martyr Stephen; the litany of the widows from the church of the martyr Vitalis; the litany of the poor and of the children from the church of the blessed martyr Cecilia. (Gregory of Tours, Book X of the History, chapter 1.) 43.
Therefore, when a great multitude of every age, sex, and station of life had come, according to the injunction of the Levite Gregory, on the appointed day to entreat the Lord, that same plague raged so fiercely by the divine judgment that within the space of a single hour, while the people were sending up their supplication to the Lord, eighty persons, falling to the ground, breathed out their spirit. But the most eloquent orator by no means ceased to preach to the people that they should not desist from prayer until by the divine mercy that pestilence should abate. 44. Indeed, when the future prelate thought that he had wholly turned the emperor aside from consenting to his consecration, he learned at last that his letters had been intercepted by Germanus, prefect of the city.
On this account, forestalling the imperial reply, which he judged to be contrary to his own will, since he could not openly go out through the gates of the city, the crafty man contrived, as it is said, in a disguised habit, to have himself carried out by merchants; he made for the mountain glades and sought out the hiding-places of caves. And while he was sought there by all with the utmost solicitude, he was recognized by the sign of a shining column continually hanging over him from heaven; he was seized, dragged away, and consecrated supreme pontiff at the temple of Saint Peter, the prince of the apostles. 45.
But since there are some perfidious Lombards who suppose that Gregory sought the pontificate rather than fled from it, I think it worth the effort to insert a few things out of many, by which I may make it clearer than light that he—so far as he could without the fault of obstinacy—was unwilling to accept the pontificate, nay rather wished utterly to avoid it as an unbearable burden. For he says, almost at the very beginning of his consecration, in his letter to Paul the scholastic: Whatever things pertaining to the honor of the priestly office smile upon me as a stranger, I do not greatly weigh; but concerning you who smile upon me in this matter, I grieve not a little, you who know my desire most fully, and yet believe that I have gained an advancement.
For it would have been the highest advancement for me if I had been able to fulfill what I willed, if I had been able, by attaining the desired quiet, to accomplish my will, which you have long known. But since I am now bound and fettered by the chains of this honor in the Roman city, I have something in which I may rejoice even for your glory, since, with the most excellent lord Leo the ex-consul coming, I do not suspect that you will remain in Sicily; and when you too begin to be fettered by your own honor and detained at Rome, you shall know what grief, what bitterness, I endure.
But when the magnificent lord Maurentius the Chartularius comes, I beg you, hasten to his aid in the necessity of the Roman city, since we are pierced without ceasing by the swords of the enemy from without, yet we are pressed more grievously by an inner peril through the sedition of the soldiers. (Book I, letter 3.) 46. Likewise Gregory to John, patriarch of Constantinople: If the virtue of charity consists in love of one's neighbor, if we are commanded to love our neighbors as ourselves, how is it that your Beatitude does not love me as you love yourself? For I know with what ardor, with what zeal you wished to flee the burdens of the episcopate, and yet you did not resist that these same burdens of the episcopate should be imposed upon me.
It is therefore clear that you do not love me as you love yourself, since you wished me to take up those burdens which you did not wish to have imposed upon yourself. But since I, unworthy and weak, have taken up an old and grievously shattered ship—for the waves enter on every side, and the rotten timbers, battered by the daily and violent storm, sound out shipwreck—I beseech you, through the almighty Lord, that in this my peril you stretch out to me the hand of your prayer, since you are able to intercede the more earnestly, the farther you stand from the confusion of the tribulations which we suffer in this land. (Book I, letter 4.) 47. Likewise Gregory to Theoctista, sister of the emperor: With how great devotion my mind prostrates itself before your reverence I cannot express in words;
nor yet do I strive to betray myself, since even while I am silent you read in your heart what you perceive of my devotion. But I marvel that you have severed the continence long ago conferred upon me from this present continence of the pastoral office, in which, under the guise of the episcopate, I have been brought back to the world, in which I have been subject to as many earthly cares as I remember I never served in the lay life. For I have lost the deep joys of my quiet, and, inwardly falling, I seem outwardly to have ascended; whence I lament that I have been driven far from the face of my Creator.
For I strove daily to be outside the world, outside the flesh, to drive away all the phantasms of the body from the eyes of the mind, and to behold the joys of heaven incorporeally; and, panting after the vision of God not only with my voice but with the whole marrow of my heart, I used to say: My heart hath said to thee: I have sought thy face; thy face, O Lord, will I seek (Psalm 26:8). And desiring nothing in this world, dreading nothing, I seemed to myself to stand upon a certain summit of things, so that I almost believed to be fulfilled in me what, by the promise of the Lord, I had learned from the prophet: I will lift thee up above the heights of the earth (Isaiah 58:14).
For he is lifted up above the heights of the earth who tramples underfoot, by contempt of mind, even those very things which seem lofty and glorious in the present age. But suddenly, struck down from the summit of the mind by the whirlwind of this temptation, I have fallen into fears and terrors; for even if I fear nothing for myself, yet I greatly dread for those who have been committed to me. On every side I am shaken by the waves of affairs and pressed down by storms, so that I may rightly say: I am come into the depth of the sea, and a tempest hath overwhelmed me (Psalm 68:3). After my affairs I long to return to my heart, but, shut out from it by the empty tumults of my thoughts, I cannot return. And so this that is within me has become far from me, so that I am unable to obey the prophetic voice by which it is said:
Return, ye transgressors, to the heart (Isaiah 46:8). But, oppressed by foolish thoughts, I am compelled only to cry out: My heart hath forsaken me (Psalm 39:13). I loved the beauty of the contemplative life as Rachel, barren indeed, but clear-sighted and fair; who, though by her quiet she bears less, yet sees the light more subtly. But by what judgment I know not, Leah has been joined to me in the night—that is, the active life, fruitful indeed, but blear-eyed, seeing less, though bringing forth more. I hastened to sit at the feet of the Lord with Mary, to receive the words of His mouth; and behold, with Martha I am compelled to minister in outward things and to be busy about many matters.
Having, as I believed, driven from myself the legion of demons, I wished to forget those whom I had known and to rest at the feet of the Savior; and behold, to me unwilling and constrained it is said: Return to thy own house, and tell how great things the Lord hath done for thee (Mark 5:19). But who, amid so many earthly cares, could preach the miracles of God, when it is now difficult for me even to recall them? For, pressed in this honor by the tumult of secular affairs, I see myself to be among those of whom it is written: Thou hast cast them down while they were being lifted up (Psalm 72:18). For it did not say, Thou hast cast them down after they were lifted up, but while they were being lifted up, because the wicked, while, propped up by temporal honor, they seem outwardly to rise, inwardly fall.
The lifting up, therefore, is itself the ruin, since while they are upheld by false glory, they are emptied of the true glory. Hence again it is said: Failing, they shall fail like smoke (Psalm 36:20). For smoke, in rising, fails, and, dilating itself, vanishes away. So indeed it comes to pass, when present prosperity accompanies the life of a sinner, since whereby he is shown to be exalted, thereby he is brought to be no more. Hence again it is written: My God, make them like a wheel (Psalm 82:14). For a wheel is raised up from the rear part and falls in the fore parts. Now our rear parts are the good things of the present world which we leave behind; but the fore parts are the eternal and abiding things to which we are called, as Paul attests, who says:
Forgetting the things that are behind, stretching forth myself to those things that are before (Philippians 3:13). The sinner therefore, when he has advanced in the present life, is set like a wheel, since, falling in the fore parts, he is raised up from the rear parts. For when he receives in this life the glory which he had relinquished, he falls from that glory which comes after this. And indeed there are many who so know how to govern their outward advancements that through them they by no means inwardly fall. Whence it is written: God doth not cast away the mighty, whereas he himself also is mighty (Job 36:5). And through Solomon it is said: And he that is intelligent shall possess the helm (Proverbs 1:5). But these things are difficult for me, since they are also very burdensome; and what the mind does not willingly receive, it does not fittingly dispose.
Behold, our most serene lord the emperor has commanded that an ape be made a lion. And indeed, by his command it can be called a lion, but it cannot be made a lion. Whence it is necessary that he impute all my faults and negligences not to me, but to his own piety, who has committed the ministry of virtue to a weak man. (Book I, letter 5.) 48. Likewise Gregory to Narses the patrician: Since you have described the sweetness of contemplation in lofty terms, you have renewed for me the groaning of my ruin, since I have heard what I have lost within, while I unworthily ascended without to the summit of rule. Know that I am struck with so great a sorrow that I am scarcely able to speak; for the darkness of grief besets the eyes of my mind, whatever is looked upon is sad;
whatever is believed to be delightful appears lamentable to my heart. For I ponder that, falling from the high summit of my quiet, to how dejected a summit of outward advancement I have ascended, and, for my faults sent into the exile of occupation from the face of Him who rules, I say with the prophet, as with the voices of ruined Judaea: He that should comfort me is gone far from me (Lamentations 1:16). But as to the fact that, drawing a likeness of cause and name through Scripture, you frame your clausulae and declamations—surely, dearest brother, you call an ape a lion. This you do in the same manner as we often call mangy pups leopards or tigers. For I, good sir, have lost my sons, as it were, since through earthly cares I have lost my upright works.
Do not therefore call me Naomi (Ruth 1:20), that is, beautiful, but call me Mara, since I am full of bitterness. (Book I, letter 6.) 49. Likewise Gregory to Anastasius, patriarch of Antioch: The writings of your Beatitude I found as a weary man finds rest, as a sick man finds health, as one thirsting finds a fountain, as one sweltering finds shade. For those words did not seem expressed through the tongue of the flesh, since you so opened the spiritual love which you bore toward me, as though the mind were speaking through itself. But what followed was very hard, since your love commanded me to bear earthly burdens, and, loving me thereafter, as I judge, temporally—you whom before loved me spiritually—you have pressed me down to the ground with a burden laid upon me.
so that, utterly losing all rectitude of mind and losing the keen edge of contemplation, I say—not through the spirit of prophecy, but through experience: I am bowed down and humbled exceedingly (Psalm 118:107). For such great burdens of occupations press me down that the mind is in no way raised to heavenly things. I am shaken by many waves of affairs; and after that leisure of quiet, I am afflicted by the tempests of a tumultuous life, so that I may rightly say: I am come into the depth of the sea, and a tempest hath overwhelmed me (Psalm 68:3). Therefore, to me in peril, stretch out the hand of your prayer, you who stand upon the shore of the virtues.
But as to the fact that you call me the mouth of the Lord, that you call me a lamp, that you declare that by speaking I profit many and can give light to many—I confess that you have brought my estimation of myself into the greatest doubt. For I consider who I am, and I detect in myself nothing of the mark of this good. But I consider who you are, and I do not think that you can lie. When therefore I wish to believe what you say, my own infirmity contradicts me; when I wish to dispute what is said in my praise, your sanctity contradicts me. But I beseech you, holy man, let us agree upon something concerning this our contest, so that, even if what you say is not so, it may be so because you say it. (Book I, letter 7.) 50. Likewise Gregory to the illustrious Andrew:
May almighty God show to your most sweet heart that, though absent in body, I have not departed in mind from your charity. For your good deeds, even if I willed it, I am not able to forget. But as to the fact that you know I have arrived at the order of the episcopate—if you love me, bewail it, since the occupations of this world here are so great that through the order of the episcopate I see myself to be almost separated from the love of God, which I unceasingly lament; and I beg that you entreat the Lord for me. (Book I, letter 30.) 54. Likewise Gregory to John, ex-consul and quaestor and patrician: Having experienced the good deeds of your Excellency, I am so bound by love toward you that the memory of you can in no way be effaced from my breast.
But contrary to that love I am not a little saddened, since you knew that I was seeking quiet, and you have led me into disquiet. To you indeed may almighty God, because you did this with good intention, repay eternal goods; but from so great a peril of this place may He absolve me in whatever way He shall will, since, as my sins deserved, I have been made bishop not of the Romans but of the Lombards, whose covenants are swords and whose favor is punishment. Behold to what your patronages have led me. I groan daily, pressed by occupations, and I am unable to catch my breath. But you who are still able, flee the occupations of this world, since the more anyone advances in it, the more, as I see, he decreases from the love of God. 52.
Gregory to Leander, bishop of Seville. I would have wished with all my intention to reply to your letters, had not the labor of pastoral care so worn me down that it pleases me rather to weep than to say anything. Which your reverence too vigilantly perceives in the very text of my letters, when I speak negligently to him whom I vehemently love. For I am shaken by such great waves in this place of this world, that I am in no way able to steer to port the old and rotting ship which, by the hidden dispensation of God, I have undertaken to govern. Now the waves rush in from the front, now the foaming masses of the sea swell up from the side, now from behind the tempest pursues;
and amid all these things, troubled, I am now compelled to direct the very helm against the adversity, now, with the ship's side bent over, to escape obliquely the threats of the waves. I groan, since I feel that, through my negligence, the bilge of vices grows, and, with the tempest strongly opposing, the rotten timbers already sound out shipwreck. Weeping, I remember that I have lost the calm shore of my quiet; and, sighing, I gaze upon the land which, with the winds of affairs opposing, I nevertheless cannot reach. If therefore you love me, dearest brother, stretch out to me the hand of your prayer amid these waves, that, whereby you aid me in my labor, you may by that very exchange of reward become stronger also in your own labors. (Book I, letter 31.) 53.
But since it has been sufficiently proved, as I think, that Gregory not only wished to decline the supreme priesthood, but even took it up with great anguish of soul, it seems that it should be briefly indicated with what discretion he did this, lest indeed so great a man should be thought to have succumbed, even slightly, to the fault either of obstinacy or of pusillanimity. 54. For he says in his letter to Anastasius, bishop of Corinth: The judgments of God, as they are unsearchable, so ought they to be feared by human senses: so that, because mortal reason is not able to comprehend them, it is necessary that it prostrate itself before them with humble neck of heart, so that wherever the will of Him who governs shall have led it, thither it may follow with the steps of an obedient mind.
But I, considering my own infirmity, that I could not attain to the summit of the apostolic see, chose rather to decline this burden, lest in the pastoral government I should succumb through the action of an unequal administration. But since to go contrary is not in the choice of the Lord who disposes, I obediently followed what the merciful hand of Him who rules me willed to work concerning me. For it was necessary to indicate to your Fraternity, even if the present occasion had not arisen, that, though unworthy, the Lord has deigned that I should preside over the apostolic see. (Book I, letter 27.) Likewise concerning the same matter to Philip, count of the excubitores.
Inasmuch as man is not sufficient to discuss and investigate the heavenly judgments, so far ought he to bend the neck of his heart beneath them, so that, because he is ignorant by what judgment that which is bestowed upon him is disposed, he ought neither to insist forwardly upon seeking a position, nor to be found stubborn in refusing it. Whence I, unworthy to take up the burdens of the episcopate, have submitted myself to the command of almighty God and to your will, who wished me to preside over you rather by the largess of grace than by the estimation of judgment. For God, on account of whom you love me though unworthy, is able to recompense this reward to you in perpetuity, so that the grace which you bestow upon His unworthy servants you may be able to find multiplied with Him. (Book I, letter
32.) But here I take a little breath from the work of excerpting, so that the things which are to be said specifically concerning the pontificate may, by the Lord's aid, be related in another little book.