Letter 223

223. To Eustathius of Sebaste.

"There is a time to be silent, and a time to speak," says the word of Ecclesiastes. And so now too, since the time of silence has been sufficient, it is at last seasonable to open the mouth for the disclosure of the truth about the things that are not known. For the great Job too bore his misfortunes a long time in silence, displaying his courage in this very thing, by holding out under the most grievous sufferings; but when he had sufficiently contended in silence, and had continued, holding down the pain in the depth of his heart, then opening his mouth he uttered those things which all know. And to us, then, this third year of silence made enviable the boast of the prophet who says, "I became as a man that hears not, and that has no reproofs in his mouth." Therefore we shut up in the depth of our heart the pain that came upon us from the slander. For in truth "slander humbles a man, and slander harasses the poor." If, then, so great is the evil from slander, that it brings down even the perfect (for this the word hints at through the title "man") from his height, and the poor too — that is, the one who is deficient in the great doctrines (as also seems good to the prophet when he says, "Perhaps they are poor; therefore they will not hear. I will go to the great men" — calling "poor" those who are deficient in understanding; and here, plainly, those who are not yet perfected in the inner man, nor have advanced to the perfect measure of stature, these the proverb says are tossed about and shaken) — nevertheless I thought I ought to bear the painful things in silence, awaiting some correction through the very deeds. For I supposed that those things were said against us not from any malice, but from ignorance of the truth.

But since I see the enmity advancing together with time, and that they neither repent of what was spoken from the beginning, nor take any thought how they might heal the past, but work it out further, and are marshaled toward the aim they set up from the beginning, contriving to injure our life and to stain our reputation among the brethren, no longer does the safety of silence appear to me. But there came upon me the word of Isaiah, who says, "I have kept silence; shall I also always keep silence and forbear? I have endured like a woman in travail." And may it be granted to us both to receive the reward for the silence, and to take some power for the proofs, so that, having reproved, we may dry up this bitter torrent of the false speech that has flowed against us, so that we too may say, "Our soul has passed through the torrent"; and the words, "If the Lord had not been among us, when men rose up against us, then they had swallowed us up alive, then the water had drowned us."

I, having spent much time on vanity, and having wasted nearly all my youth in the vain labor I had in occupying myself with the acquisition of the learning of the wisdom that has been made foolish by God, when at last, as though rising up from a deep sleep, I looked toward the wonderful light of the truth of the gospel, and beheld the uselessness of the wisdom of the rulers of this age that are being brought to nothing — having greatly bewailed my pitiable life, I prayed that a guiding hand might be given me toward the introduction to the doctrines of piety. And above all it was my care to make some correction of my character, which had been perverted for a long time by association with the worthless. And so, having read the Gospel, and having seen there a very great occasion toward perfection in the selling of one's possessions, and the sharing with the needy among the brethren, and altogether the having no anxious thought for this life, and the turning of the soul by no sympathy toward the things here, I prayed to find some one of the brethren who had chosen this way of life, so as to pass over with him this brief surge of life.

And indeed I found many in Alexandria, and many throughout the rest of Egypt, and others in Palestine, and in Coele-Syria and in Mesopotamia; whose self-control in their manner of living I admired, and admired their steadfastness in labors; I was astonished at their vigor in prayers, how they mastered sleep, bent down by no natural necessity, ever preserving the mind of the soul lofty and unenslaved, in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, not turning toward the body, nor consenting to spend any anxious thought upon it, but as though passing their life in a flesh that was another's, they showed by deed what it is to sojourn among the things here, and what it is to have one's citizenship in heaven. Having admired these things, and counted blessed the life of those men, because they show by deed that they carry about the dying of Jesus in the body, I prayed myself also, so far as it was attainable for me, to be an emulator of those men.

For this reason, then, having seen certain men in my own country attempting to emulate those men, I thought I had found some help toward my own salvation, and I made the things seen a proof of the things unseen. Since, then, the things in secret of each of us are uncertain, I considered the lowliness of clothing a sufficient indication of lowliness of mind, and the coarse cloak was enough for my full conviction, and the girdle, and the sandals of untanned leather. And though many drew me away from association with them, I would not endure it, seeing them prefer the steadfast life to the life of enjoyment; and because of the strangeness of their conduct I was jealously attached to them. Hence neither did I admit the slanders concerning their doctrines, although many affirmed that they did not hold right opinions about God, but, having been disciples of the leader of the present heresy, were secretly sowing his teachings; of which, since I never became a direct hearer, I considered those who reported them to be slanderers. But when at last I was called to the leadership of the church, the guards and watchers of my life given to me, forsooth, under the pretense of help and loving fellowship — I pass them over in silence, lest I should seem either, by saying unbelievable things, to slander myself, or, by being believed, to put into those who believe an occasion of misanthropy. This very nearly happened to me too, had not the compassions of God quickly forestalled me. For I nearly fell into suspicion of all men, considering nothing in anyone to be trustworthy, having been stricken in soul by the treacherous wounds. But nevertheless there seemed for a while to be some appearance of my association with them. And there were assaults upon us concerning doctrines, once and twice; and we seemed not to be at variance, having come to agreement. But when they found us uttering the same words concerning the faith in God which throughout all the time they had heard from us. For even if our other things are worthy of groans, yet this one thing I dare to boast in the Lord, that I never held mistaken opinions about God, or, thinking otherwise, learned differently afterward. But the notion of God which I received from childhood from my blessed mother and my grandmother Macrina, this I held in myself, grown greater; for I did not take up one thing after another in the completion of my reason, but I brought to perfection the principles handed down to me by them. For just as the seed, growing, becomes greater from small, but is the same in itself, not changed in kind, but perfected by growth, so I reckon that the same reasoning has grown in me through advancement, and that the present one has not come to be in place of the one that existed from the beginning. So let them search their own conscience, and let them consider the tribunal of Christ, whether they ever heard from us anything other than what we now say — those who now have noised us abroad for wrong belief, and, by the denunciatory letters which they composed against us, have made every ear ring. Hence we too have come to the necessity of this defense.

For we are accused of blasphemy against God, though we can be convicted neither from any writing which we ourselves first put forth concerning the faith, nor from words, as many as we have always, without writing, by mouth, openly discoursed in the churches of God. But neither has any witness been found who says he heard from us any of the impious things uttered in a corner. Whence then are we judged, if we neither write impiously, nor declaim harmfully, nor in our conversations at home pervert those who meet us? O the strange drama! "So-and-so," he says, "in Syria wrote certain things not piously; and you wrote to him twenty years ago and more. Therefore you are a partner of the man, and let his accusations become yours too." But, O man, friend of truth, you who have been taught that falsehood is the offspring of the devil, how were you persuaded that that letter was mine? For you neither sent, nor inquired, nor were taught by me, who am able to tell you the truth. And even if the letter is mine, whence is it plain that this writing now fallen into your hands is contemporary with my letter? Who told you that the composition is twenty years old? Whence is it plain that the composition is that man's, to whom my letter too was sent? And even if he is the writer, and I wrote to him, and the time is one of both my letter and the composition, that I received it in my mind and have within me that opinion — what is the proof?

Ask yourself: how often did you visit us at the monastery on the Iris river, when the most God-beloved brother Gregory was present with me, pursuing the same aim of life as I? Did you hear anything of the kind? Or did you get an impression, small or great? How many days at the village on the opposite bank, with my mother, where, living together as friends, words were stirred between us both by night and by day? Were we found to have anything kindred in our minds? And when we visited the blessed Silvanus at the same time, did not the road hold our words about these things? And at Eusinoe, when, about to set out with several bishops to Lampsacus, you summoned me, were not the words about the faith? Were not your shorthand-writers present all the time, as I dictated the things against the heresy? Were not the most genuine of your disciples present with me all the time? Did I not, while visiting the brotherhoods, and spending the nights with them in prayers, speaking and hearing always the things about God without contention, furnish exact proofs of my own thought? How then has the experience of so long a time appeared inferior to so rotten and feeble a suspicion? And what witness ought there to be of my disposition before you? The things spoken by us at Chalcedon concerning the faith, the things at Heraclea many times, the things earlier at Caesarea in the suburb — are they not all in harmony from us? Are they not all agreeing with one another? Except, as I said, that some growth is observed in what is said, through advancement — which is not a change from worse to better, but a filling out of what was lacking by the addition of knowledge. And how do you not consider this too, that "a father shall not bear the sin of a son, nor a son bear the sin of a father, but each shall die in his own sin"? But to me the one slandered by you is neither father nor son. For he has become neither my teacher nor my disciple. But if the sins of parents are to become charges against the children, far more justly should the things of Arius be laid against his disciples; and if anyone begot Aetius the heretic, the charges of the child should mount to the head of the father. But if it is not just for anyone to be accused on their account, far more justly surely should we not undergo accounting for things in no way belonging to us — if indeed they sinned at all, if anything worthy of condemnation has been written by them. For I am to be pardoned for disbelieving the things said against them, since the experience against me establishes the readiness of the accusers for slander.

For even if, deceived, and thinking me a partner of the opinion of those who wrote those words of Sabellius which they themselves bandy about, they came to the slander against me — not even thus were they worthy of pardon, casting before clear proofs straightway with their blasphemies, and wounding those who had done no wrong — not to say also those bound to them in the closest friendship — and the fact that they have false opinions within them is a proof that they are not led by the Holy Spirit. For one who is going to cut himself off from the friendship of a brother must take much thought, and pass many sleepless nights, and with many tears seek out the truth from God. For if the rulers of this world, when they are about to condemn one of the malefactors to death, draw aside the curtains, and call the most experienced for the consideration of the matters at hand, and spend much time, now looking at the severity of the law, now shamed by the fellowship of nature, and after many groans and laments over the necessity, become public before all in serving the law under necessity, not bringing in the condemnation according to their own pleasure — how much more must one consider as worthy of greater earnestness and care and the counsel of many, the one who is going to break off from the friendship of brethren, a friendship confirmed over much time? But there is one letter, and that itself doubtful. For they could not say that they recognized it from the tokens of the signature, since it was not the one first written but the one transcribed that came into their hands. From one letter, then, and that an old one. For it is twenty years up to the present time since anything was written to that man. And in the time between I have no such witness of my own purpose and life as those who now stand over me as accusers.

But the letter is not the cause of the separation; the ground of the division is another, which I am ashamed to tell, and would have kept silent the whole time, had not the things now done made the disclosure of their whole purpose necessary for me, because of the benefit of the many. The good men supposed that fellowship with us was a hindrance to them toward the assumption of power. And since they were anticipated by a certain signature of the faith, which we had held out to them — not that we ourselves disbelieved their mind (for I confess it), but wishing to heal the suspicions about them which many of our like-minded brethren had — in order that nothing from that confession should seem to meet them as a hindrance toward being received by those now in power, they renounced fellowship with us; and this letter was devised as the ground of the rupture. And the clearest sign of what is said is this: that, having proscribed us, and having composed the censures they wished against us, before sending them to us, they sent the letters around everywhere. For seven days before it came into my hands, the letter appeared among others, who, receiving it from some, were going to pass it on to others. For they devised thus to hand it from one to one, that the distribution might be swift for them throughout the whole country. And these things were said even then by those who reported their affairs to us most clearly; but we decided to keep silence, until He who reveals the deep things should publish their affairs by the clearest and most indisputable proofs.