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To the Same, Letter 223John Chrysostom · PG 52
Greek & scans

To the Same, Letter 223

John Chrysostom · PG 52 · cols 687–687 · machine translation (AI, from the page scans)

Contents — 3 sections
John Chrysostom52
687

by any means, and with all zeal, we strive to remove them. For we shall not rest until, both by our own efforts and through others, if possible, we have accomplished this; even if it should be necessary to send a thousand times to the city of Constantinople, so as to make all things very easy for you, we shall not refuse to do even that. Since, therefore, these things are known to you, perform for us what is your duty: your vigilance and your diligence. And if you think that brethren should also be sent, let me know this as well. As for the relics of the holy martyrs, be without anxiety; for I have straightway sent my most observant lord, the presbyter Terentius, to my lord the most pious Otreius A (a) the bishop of Arabissus. For he himself possesses many [relics], and of the most undoubted authenticity, which we shall send to you in Phoenicia within a few days. Therefore, pay attention, that you do not fail in your duty in any respect. For you see with what readiness of mind we perform what is our duty. Make haste, therefore, that you may be able to complete the churches that are without roofs before the winter.

CXXVII. To Polybius.

Another, perhaps, would have lamented and bewailed the intolerable cold of this region, the vast solitude of the place, and the most grievous disease (for from this source we have fallen into illness); but I, leaving these aside, lament your separation, which is more grievous to me than solitude, disease, and winter. And the winter has also increased this bitterness. For the one consolation that I had for my most wretched separation, which is to converse with you by letter, the winter that has set in has taken away from me, having closed the roads with a great mass of snow, permitting neither anyone from outside to come hither and meet with us, nor for anyone to arise from here and set out to you. And the terror of the Isaurians effects this no less, nay even more, for us, and increases our solitude, putting everyone to flight, driving them away, and making them wanderers. For there is no one left who dares to remain at home; but everyone, leaving his own house, flees. And cities are now but walls and roofs, whereas ravines and forests are cities. For just as wild beasts, like leopards and lions, consider the desert safer than cities, so do we who inhabit Armenia feel compelled to move from place to place every day, living the lives of Hamaxobii and Nomads, and nowhere standing with any confidence; to such an extent is everything here full of tumult and disturbance. For some are slaughtered by their arrival, burned alive, and their freeborn turned into slaves; others, however, are put to flight by the spread of rumors and driven from their cities, nay, to speak more truly, they are destroyed. For as many young men as have been compelled to flee their homes, often even in the middle of the night, while all is frozen hard, driven by the fear of the rumor like smoke, they had no need even of an Isaurian sword to meet their death, but died giving up their final breath as they stiffened in the snow; and that which was the cause of their flight, the same became for them the cause of a most bitter death: behold the state in which our affairs B are. These things, indeed, we have not said in order to cast you into grief (for I know that these things would be a source of pain to you), but to reveal the reason for our long silence, and what the cause was why we wrote to you so late and slowly. For we were so forsaken by all that we were unable to find anyone to travel to you, and it became necessary for us to rouse our own companion, the presbyter, and send him to you. Wherefore, when you have received him as is worthy of you, send him back quickly, that he may announce to us good news concerning your health. For you know how great is our desire to know this.

CXXVIII. To Marinianus.

To all other mortals, spring is thus joyful and pleasant because it adorns the face of the earth with flowers and transforms it into meadows; but to me it is so for this reason, that it provides me a great opportunity for interacting with my acquaintances by means of letters. And indeed, I should wish to see you face-to-face with my own eyes; but since that is not at all possible, I do what is possible with a most ready mind, that is, to converse with you by letter. Neither do sailors and oarsmen cut the backs of the sea with an equal pleasure of mind, when that season of the year has arisen, as I do when I take up pen and paper and ink in my hands to write to you. For in the time of winter, when all things were freezing C from the cold, and a certain incredible force of snow was blocking all the roads, neither was anyone from outside enduring the journey to come to us, nor was anyone enduring to set out from here elsewhere. For this reason we, enclosed in the little huts of this place as in a prison, and through the lack of couriers—bound, as it were, by certain chains of the tongue—were using, however unwillingly, a long silence. But after the time had at last opened the roads and broken the chain of our tongue, we sent to you this presbyter, with whom I share a life of fellowship, so that we might understand in what health you are. When, therefore, you have received him, as is worthy of you, my lord most greatly to be admired, and when you have looked after him as your charity demands, when he returns to us, I would like you to make us more certain concerning your health. For you know how we desire to know something concerning it.

CXXIX. To Marcianus and Marcellinus.

How glorious is this pair of yours, and how dear to us, bound together not by the law of nature only, but also by the chain of a most intense love! On account of this we glory and exult in your friendship, and we desire to congregate with you and see you face-to-face. But since that is not at all possible now, we do what is possible: we write often, we are perpetually mindful of you, we carry you in our thoughts wherever we may be, and we are not in any way separated from your sweetness even by the length of the journey. For such is the wing of charity, that it easily traverses every road and every interval, and there is no inconvenience D

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