...most wise; let it be a common remedy of consolation for those who mourn, so that humans may see humans escorting humans. B
MONITUM ON ORATION XIX
I. After the death of his father, Gregory was preparing to withdraw into his beloved solitude. During these delays, Julian—not the Apostate, who had already departed from the living, but another, the best of our Gregory’s friends and equals, born in the same fatherland as the Theologian, having used the same teachers and been imbued with the same disciplines, and who had even then, in pleading cases, gained for himself an outstanding reputation for fairness and integrity—was appointed to equalize the taxes of Nazianzus. Gregory immediately endeavored to incite this man toward mercy and kindness—toward the poor, the clerics, and the philosophers (that is, the monks)—both through letters and through poetry. Julian willingly assented to the requests, yet on the condition that he [Gregory], in turn, should pay a sermon in place of tribute. This law imposed upon the Theologian was burdensome. But love for the poor overcame everything: and in truth, although resisting, he delivered this oration soon after.
II. The orator begins “from the tyranny by which he is constantly pressed out of charity.” For he himself, through the whole course of his life, desired to die to this world and to lead a life hidden in Christ. With his father lost, he embraced silence; thinking himself invincible in this purpose, he later confesses himself conquered; and placed in those straits, he seeks to say something more preeminent than silence. Having therefore seized the opportunity provided by the festival of the martyrs, he uplifts his listeners by their examples, in every way, from the contempt of human things to celestial things. But after he has discoursed on kindness, mercy, and other virtues, he teaches (n. 11) “to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Then he transfers the oration to Julian, and urges him that, precisely as he refers tributes to the public accounts, he should describe these with an even balance, and, having Christ himself—who was born at the very time of the description—before his eyes, he should show himself kind and approachable to his fellow servants.
III. This is the analytical synopsis of this oration. We believe it was delivered in that space of time which flowed from the death of Gregory the Elder until the Theologian’s withdrawal into Isauria. For when the Theologian in this oration neither named Gregory the father even once, as he had been accustomed to do in others, it is in no way to be doubted that he was already deceased. Gregory the Elder died, as we saw in the previous Monitum, around the middle of the year 374, and the Theologian withdrew into Isauria the following year, as is inferred from the series of events that happened there. Furthermore, Julian, according to Tillemont, was appointed to equalize taxes in this very year 374. Whence it is not ill-conceived that this oration for the poor, the clerics, and the monks was delivered at the end of the year 374, or the beginning of 375.
ORATION XIX
I. What is this tyranny by which we are constantly pressed out of charity? What is this wisdom and knowledge of ours, on account of which we are fought against at every festival? For my part, I search and examine myself on all sides, and I find absolutely none. However, this one thing I know with myself,...
and perhaps it is not bad, even if some call it simplicity. I wished throughout all my life to die to the world, and to live the life hidden in Christ, and to become a great merchant, having purchased the precious pearl with everything I possess, and having exchanged the flowing and drifting things for those that are stable and heavenly—which is indeed the greatest and most secure of all trades to those who have any sense. But if I could not attain this, at least I wished to be steadfast in this: to yield the thrones to those who desire them, and to be myself, throughout all my life, a child and a disciple, until I should wash away the bitter with the sweet of the discourses. Let this, then, be one part of my philosophy, or simplicity—and this is the first; the second is that which is the greatest.
B II. Since I was not able by my speech to restrain the loquacity of the many, nor the impulse and eagerness that now possesses all, as they rush headlong to teach and speak of the things of the Spirit without the Spirit, I have taken another path—one that I persuade myself is better and less laborious—to instruct all in silence by the archetype of silence: if they think anything great of me, by respecting my superiority, or if they think little of me, as much as is appropriate, by measuring themselves with one who is their equal. This is the reason for my silence; this is the mystery of my endurance.
C III. But what am I to do? Some from one side, some from another, pull and tear at me, and they litigate over my labors, demanding the word precisely as if it were some debt, and they love me more than I love myself. They are all wiser than I, knowing better than I the season for speech or D for silence. They say they will not desist—striking me with insults as if with iron upon flint—until they have kindled from a small spark the torch of my words. And now, some of them even promise more pleasant things, and set before me great rewards for my words: first, that they will benefit themselves, by offering to God and to me the fruit of my discourse; and then that they will also benefit all these others, my portion—if indeed my father’s flock is mine, my own flock—whom I would greatly wrong if I did not in every way provide for their benefit.
How A much the better that they compensate for the lack of those discourses with this effort! Oh, what a noble rivalry, that they contend to defeat me! Oh, what remarkable generosity! See what my silence has produced: it has stirred up in you a greater desire for the discourses themselves. See what fruit my contempt for glory has borne. B Would that the discourses brought as much profit as the silence has brought.
IV. Since, then, this is your pleasure, and you have defeated the invincible one, and have set up a trophy over my philosophy, come, let me say something to you better and more excellent than silence. I shall not, therefore, utter anything soft or sluggish, nor anything pleasing to the crowd through rhythmic harmony (for I would not be rightly requiting those who love me if I were to converse in that way), but rather I shall use a very robust, keen, and vehement manner of discourse, by which you might perhaps become better, being translated from the flesh to the spirit and having your minds sufficiently lifted on high. "Ye sons of men, how long will ye be heavy-hearted?" (for I shall begin the prelude to you from the most grand-voiced David), "why do ye love vanity, and seek after lying?" imagining the life here, and luxury, and a small glimmer of glory, and humble power, and false prosperity to be something great and vast. These things, however, are no more the property of those who possess them than of those who have them in hope; nor again any more of these than of those among whom they were never even in expectation. But, just as dust from a whirlwind, so are they blown and tossed about from some to others, and they slip away like smoke, and delude men like a dream, and like a shadow they cannot be held in the hands; and, in short, they are so constituted that neither do those who do not have them despair of attaining them when they are absent, C nor are they trustworthy and certain to those who do have them when they are present.
V. Shall we not look up to heaven above? Shall we not awaken? Shall we not wipe the rheum from our eyes? Shall we not understand what are the true riches, and what is the radiance that is truly real, and what dignity does not fall away? What is the unending blessedness, and where is the immovable good, neither changing nor subject to plots? Shall we not acquire these things D with many labors and hardships, if it so happens? If something must be given to luxury in this life, shall we not have the hope of future things instead of luxury? Shall we not take note of the holy martyrs, both those who, like certain universal bonds, have encompassed the whole world, and also those in whose name we celebrate this present feast? For what cause come the wounds, and bonds, and tortures, and the threat of fire, and the edge of the sword, and...
the fury of beasts, and darkness, and famine, and bottomless pits, and the plundering of goods, and the casting away of limbs, and finally death and all extreme things, did they endure with a ready and eager spirit, as if they were contending in foreign bodies? A Why, and what 66 should they inherit, or 67 is it not manifest to all, even if we do not speak of it? Shall we not—with the same hope, under the same judge of the contest and arbiter of the prize—draw up our line of battle against the same tyrant, he who is cruel both then and now, the persecutor of souls, the invisible enemy and adversary? Shall we not strive with equal virtue in this world, as if in a common theater, even if not with the urgency of a danger that allows for an immediate departure, but at least in our daily struggles and wrestlings, so that we may be deemed worthy of the same crowns, or those as close as possible 70?
VI. I exhort all, both men and women, both old and young, and those in the city and those in the country, the private citizen and the ruler, the rich and the poor (for the same contest calls all), to gird themselves readily for the struggle against this enemy, and not to be soft, nor to delay, nor to throw away the opportunity, which it is impossible to obtain again. For this is the time for labor, but the future is for the recompense. Arise, let us go hence! You have heard the Savior saying this—who was not so much moving the disciples at that time from the place of Judea, but was rather moving away from hence all who would thereafter be his disciples, and drawing them to himself, having been lifted up, just as he had promised he would do 86. Therefore, let us follow the good Master; let us flee from worldly desires, let us flee from the deceitful world and the prince of this world; let us belong purely to him who created us, let us honor the image, let us respect the calling, let us change our life for the better. Why do we cast ourselves down of our own accord, when we have been created B sublime and exalted? Why do we cling to things that fall under our sight? C
VII. Let each one, insofar as he is able, offer to God at every time, and in every manner of life and circumstance, according to the measure of the power present to him, and according to the grace granted to him, so that by all modes of virtue we may fill all the mansions of the heavenly kingdom, reaping only as much as we have sown; or, to speak more exactly, having stored up in the divine granaries as much as we have harvested. Let one man contribute—
A money, another the very fact that he has nothing; one a readiness to merit well of his neighbor, another by accepting the good will of another; one honorable action, another keen and skillful contemplation; one timely and fitting speech, another silence joined with reason; one blameless doctrine and a life that does not contradict it, another an obedient and sensible ear; one pure virginity that cuts itself off entirely from the world, another chaste marriage that does not entirely separate one from God; one fasting free from pride, another feasting removed from intemperance and petulance; one attention and assiduity in prayers and spiritual hymns, another the care and protection of those in need: but all bring tears, all purging, all ascent, and all the stretching forth unto the things that are before.
VIII. Simplicity and other virtues, and the bringing of God's tabernacle to completion.
B VIII. A noble gift, too, is simplicity, and to restrain laughter, to suppress anger, to bridle the eye, and to deny the mind the power of wandering. There is nothing among the things offered to God so small, even if it be of the least moment, even if it falls far short of His dignity, that He does not entirely accept and hold grateful, although He knows how to weigh mercy with just judgment. He accepts both Paul’s planting, as Paul's, and the watering of Apollos, and the widow’s two mites, and the publican’s humility, and the confession of Manasseh. Moses was setting up that tabernacle, constructed according to the heavenly exemplar, upon the earth; and all were contributing what C had been announced to them. Furthermore, others of their own accord were bestowing gold, others silver, others precious stones for the adornment of the superhumeral, while the women [were bringing] some twisted byssus, some scarlet woven-work, some purple, some rams' skins dyed red, some goats' hair, the most lowly thing, for the work of the tabernacle; others brought whatever each man or woman happened to have. All were bringing, and no one was exempt, not even the most destitute. In a similar manner, let us also contribute to the precious tabernacle of God, that is, to this Church, which the Lord pitched and D not man, and which is built up with varying ornaments of virtue—one bringing something smaller, another something greater, but let us all alike contribute to the perfect work, to the dwelling-place of Christ, to the holy temple, being built together and joined together by the architectural art of the Spirit. For it is surely undoubted that even if we had contributed all things, we would still contribute less than we have received, since our very being is from God, as is the knowledge of God, and the very thing which we bring. And the most beautiful and loving thing of all is that we do not...
measure God’s contribution by the value and dignity of the thing offered, but by the affection and capacity of the one who offers it.
B IX. Therefore, do not delay being good, but become so at once; and do not, because you fall short of the proper value, fail completely. Rather, offer what you can, be eager for the rest, and for what is lacking, ask that forgiveness be granted to your weakness. *You shall not appear,* it is said, *empty before me.* Let no one, then, be empty, nor fruitless, nor any soul barren and unproductive. Let each person offer to God from what is present, and from what is their own: he who sins, his conversion; he who runs well, his constancy; the young, their self-control; the aged, their wisdom; the rich, their generosity; the poor, their thanksgiving; those in authority, their humility; the tax-collector, his gentleness. Priests, *clothe yourselves with justice,* or, to speak more truly, let us clothe ourselves. Let us not scatter the sheep of the pasture, nor destroy them, for whom the Good Shepherd laid down His life, who knows His own and is known by them, and calls them by name, and leads them in, and leads them out—from unbelief to faith, and from this life to the rest beyond. Let us fear lest the judgment begin with us, according to the threat, and lest we receive from the hand of the Lord "double sins," not only failing to enter ourselves, but also preventing those who are able to enter.
C X. Sheep, do not shepherd the shepherds, nor rise up above your own boundaries; for it is enough for you if you are well shepherded. Do not judge the judges, nor legislate for the lawgivers; for God is not a God of dissension and confusion, but of peace and order. Therefore, let no one be a head who is hardly a hand, or a foot, or some other lower member of the body; but let each one, brothers, remain in the order in which he was called, even if he be worthy of a better one; for he will have more praise from being content with his present station than from seeking one he has not received. Let no one, while he can follow another without danger, desire to lead with danger; nor let the law of obedience, which guards and preserves both earthly and heavenly things, be broken; and let us not turn the rule of many into anarchy. You who are given to learning, do not trust too much in your learning, nor play the sophist with things that are superfluous and beyond logic, nor desire to conquer in all things; but be willing to be overcome even when it is good. D Give to logic its due; make your education a weapon of justice, not of death.
A XI. "Soldiers, be content with your wages, and demand nothing beyond what is appointed for you." This is what John, that great herald of the truth, the voice B that went before the Word, commands you along with us. What does he call wages? The royal provision, surely, and those gifts which, by law, are established for those who hold positions of dignity. But that which is in excess, whose is it? I, for my part, shrink from saying what would be blasphemous; but you, I know, understand, even if I refrain. "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s." To the one, the tax; to the other, the fear—to you, who are named for the state. And when I say fear, I forbid extortion. What great thing, perhaps you will say, shall we gain from this? The greatest thing of all; and if you wish, with me as mediator, the blessed hopes and the preeminence of the city above, not of this tiny and most insignificant of cities, whose command—to speak quite sparingly as a favor to my nurturer—is hardly grand or glorious. Let us desire to hold first place there; let us strive to attain the splendor of that city. In return for the mercy shown in this life to the distressed, let us rest in the bosom of Abraham; let us judge a righteous judgment; let us rescue the poor and the needy; let us show mercy to the widow and the orphan; let us ransom those being led to slaughter; or, to speak most mildly, let us not lay hands on them ourselves; let us not neglect him who begs for our help, even for the crumbs from the table; and let us not pass by the ulcerous man lying at our gates. Let us not live in luxury while others are suffering, and let us not feel disgust for our fellow servant. Do not, I beseech you, brothers and friends, take the side of that rich man, nor be tormented in the flame, nor be separated by a vast chasm from the assembly of the holy, nor beg in vain from the poor Lazarus C to cool our burning tongue with the tip of his finger, and fail to obtain even that. Let us be kind, compassionate, sympathetic; let us emulate the goodness of our Master, who "makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good," and feeds all alike with his rain. Let us not seek to grow wealthy through the poverty of others; let us not fall so far from divine equality; nor let us mix our wealth with another’s tears, by which it will be consumed like rust and moth, or, to use the words of Scripture, vomited forth. But are we more insatiable than we ought to be? There is also a way to be insatiable that is good.
Let us give a little here, that we may be rich and abundant there.
XII. ON THE TRIBUTARY ENUMERATOR
A These precepts, then, surely, do not concern only those who govern the republic, but look to all men commonly; for the remedies for a common disease are also common. But you, who record our taxes, see that you record us justly. Apply yourself to this, not so that you may carefully and accurately record my speeches—which are of no utility, or very little, perhaps satisfying only the ears—but that you may record my people holily and humanely; if for no other reason, then at least out of reverence for this present time, since the Savior himself was born at the time of an imperial census. B For "there went out a decree," he says, "from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be enrolled," and it was being enrolled. And Joseph also went up into Bethlehem with Mary, his espoused wife, to be enrolled, because he was of the house and lineage of David. And at that time the Savior is born—O wondrous thing!—the Creator and Lord of all, in a small and ignoble inn. Let us fear this mystery; let us revere the dispensation, and let us ourselves contribute something at this time. Now the angels rejoice; now the shepherds are dazzled by the brightness of the light; now a star runs from the East toward the greatest and inaccessible light; now the Magi fall down and offer gifts, and acknowledge the King of all, C and rightly from the appearance of the star infer the Heavenly One. And now Herod rages, and slaughters children; and because of our Deliverer, he removes from the midst those who were to be brought into liberty. But let us stand among those who worship, and to Him who for our sake became so poor that He even took on a body, let us offer not frankincense, nor gold, nor myrrh (the first as to God, the second as to a King, the third as to One who tasted death for us), but mystical gifts, and such as are beyond what is visible: the gift of taking nothing, of not yielding anything to wealth against poverty, and of not injuring the creature through the creature.
D XIII. You record with Christ, you spend tax with Christ, you perform the census with the Head, you reckon with the Word. Now Christ is being born for you; He is God, and He becomes man, and He converses with men. What, then, does this discourse mean? Truly, unless the opinion fails me, it admonishes those to whom such duties have been entrusted, that God always enters along with the greatest of administrations. And
indeed, in order to shame and move the registrars, he assumes flesh at that time and associates with men; but that he might bring solace to our servitude and sanction equanimity of mind as if by law (for not even this should be overlooked), he pays the didrachm not only for himself, but also for Peter, the dearest of all the disciples; A since he also became man for our sake, and accepted the form of a servant, and was led to death for our iniquities. These things indeed the Savior did, and that too by his own will, for he could have brought us salvation as God, just as he created the entire fabric of the universe by his mere command and authority. But he brought us something greater and more adapted to instill shame, namely, piety and mercy, and the equality of honor. But what of us, the disciples of Christ—of him, I say, who is meek and benign, and who has ministered to us even to such a degree? Shall we not propose for ourselves the piety of the Master to be imitated? Shall we not show ourselves to be benign and easy to our fellow-servants, so that we ourselves might experience such a lord, one who, as we have measured, will measure out to us in return? Shall we not redeem our own souls through gentleness? It is enough that free men are oppressed by servitude, and that there is such a difference B between those who have been fashioned from the same mass of earth, that some command and others are held by authority; some impose tribute and others are registered for the sake of tribute; some are permitted to inflict injury and do evil with impunity, while others must labor and contend with prayers so as not to suffer anything; and that these things should happen regarding one and the same image, and one and the same excellence of dignity, regarding heirs of the same life, for whom Christ likewise died. These things, I say, are sufficiently burdensome to free men; let not weight be added to this yoke, nor let any bitterness be added to the penalty by which our first sin was punished.
XIV
. Would that vice might perish from the roots, and its first sprout, and that wicked one who, while we were sleeping, sowed tares, so that the beginning of evil might arise from the neglect of the good, just as the beginning of darkness is the withdrawal of light. These things the tree, and the bitter eating, and the envious serpent, and the violated law brought upon us, which imposed this penalty, that our livelihood must be prepared by the sweat of our brow. C Hence I was naked and unseemly, and I knew my nakedness, and I put on a garment of skin, and I fell from paradise, and I turned back to the earth from which I had been taken, having this one thing in place of delights: to know my own evils. And I was condemned to incessant grief in exchange for small pleasure, and to war against him who loved me wickedly, and who through the tasting brought us down. These are the wages of vice for me; hence the...result that I should be born in labor and misery, and should live, and die. Hence indigence was born; from indigence came desire, from desire wars, and from wars then tribute, than which there is nothing more grievous or bitter in the divine condemnation. But let us at least, since we are liable to the same punishment, not increase the multitude [of our sins], nor act wickedly toward others. God demands of us mutual kindness toward one another, even if we are being punished by Him.
B XV. There will also be another registration, and another registrar; unless perhaps you have never heard of a certain book of the living and of those who are perishing. There we shall all be registered, or rather, we are already registered according to the merit of how each one has lived here. C Wealth has no advantage there, nor poverty any disadvantage; there is no favor, no hatred, nor any other of all those things by which the honesty and religion of judgments is here subverted and shaken. We are all inscribed by the finger of God, and the book will be opened to us on the day of revelation. Small and great are there, the servant together with the master, to quote Solomon, and the king with the subject, and the registrar with the one being registered, and the splendor near at hand; but I shall pass over in silence that which is altogether impossible to speak. Moreover, in the same way as we have registered others, we ourselves shall also be registered. If you wish to find this registration easy and agreeable, take care to show yourself agreeable and humane to us.
XVI. What do you say to these things? What are you writing, O best of friends, peer and companion to us in training and learning? Even if God has now placed us in a better rank and order (I fear to say, more burdensome), that we might teach you who hold magisterial office—O you who have sprung from a pious land and family, O holy plant of holy parents, O root of holier children—by what means do you receive my words now? Do they sway you? Or will you need to be soothed and, as it were, charmed by a longer oration? D I hold it not merely as a conjecture, but as certain and proven that you have long been held fast by my discourses; relying, if on nothing else, certainly on the letters themselves and the learning that always leads you easily to all that is best, whether you are walking of your own accord or following others. For this is that by which the wise surpass the common crowd. I, however, shall add a little more to what has already been said. You have indeed paid the reward for my words, whatever it was you gave; but the oration itself offers you as a gift the poor, a whole choir of priests, a choir of philosophers, held by no bond below, possessing only their own bodies—and not even these entirely—having nothing for Caesar, but everything for God: hymns, prayers, vigils, tears,
ADMONITION REGARDING ORATION XX
and a gathering of philosophers who are bound by no earthly tie, who possess bodies only—and not even those entirely; who have nothing for Caesar, but attribute all things to God—hymns, prayers, vigils, tears, wealth that cannot be seized by hands, to die to the world, to live for Christ, to macerate the flesh, to abstract the soul from the body. By sparing these, or rather by restoring entirely to God the servants of the divine name and those conscious of the mysteries, the inspectors of heavenly things—these, I say, the first-fruits of our race, these pillars, these crowns of faith, these precious pearls, these stones of that temple, whose foundation and cornerstone is Christ—the beautiful, I say, fulfillment of the Church: you would counsel both them, and yourself, and all of us most excellently. And I pray that this wealth might fall to you from us, rather than great treasures of gold and silver, which now exist, and after a little while will not. B
XVII. You have the gift of my discourse, if lower than your hope, yet certainly such as we were able to offer. But you, in return for this my dispensation, repay me with what is greater, namely, tractable and obedient minds. Thus, to other benefits let this also be added, that you have less need of my speeches, by truly considering one another unto the stirring up of charity and good works; so that, having attained the kind and humane Scripture from on high, and dancing around the King of all—which alone is the work of those written there—we may offer praise to God, looking upon the one and same glory and splendor of the divinity of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and exalting it with praises, to whom be glory, and honor, and adoration unto the ages of ages. Amen. C
Notice on Oration XX
I. After the death of Gregory’s parents, he himself, according to the more probable opinion, having abdicated the care of the Church of Nazianzus, betook himself to Seleucia in the year 375. There, for three years, he remained almost unknown to men, devoted to solitude, vigils, and the contemplation of heavenly things. But, on account of the fame of his holiness and eloquence, sought by the wishes of very many prelates, and placed by Theodosius the Great in the Constantinopolitan see, around the year 379, he sowed the same seeds of doctrine and piety in the flock entrusted to him. At that time, an incredible, as it were, cohort of errors had invaded Constantinople. Not only heretics, but even the Catholics themselves, were agitating new and dangerous questions concerning divine matters. From the diversity of opinions, quarrels and dissensions arose; and such was the force of minds and the itching of tongues that not only temples, but even the fora and houses, were continually resounding with sacred matters.
II. The Theologian beats back this rashness, and first of all he particularly censures those who, neither instructed in the knowledge of sacred letters, nor commendable for the holiness of their lives, arrogantly ascribed to themselves the name of theologians. By many examples brought forth from Scripture, he shows that it is not permitted for everyone to approach, or to behold, or to touch the Holy of Holies, but only those who have been called by God, and who have offered themselves as a living sacrifice, nay rather, the very [host of God...]