Funeral Oration on His Father 1

And, to sum up the matter in one word, you too have a Lord in heaven. May it be your lot to experience Him as a judge who is toward you such as you yourself are to those who are under your authority. May we all, moreover, encounter both the kindnesses of this life and those which are more tolerable in the life to come, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power, to whom be honor and kingship, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, as it was, and was before, and shall be, and is now, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

ADMONITION REGARDING ORATION XVIII

I. "In this oration," states Billius, "he first addresses Basil the Great, and provides him with what is, as it were, the subject matter of the oration. Then, beginning the history of his father’s life, he shows how, having cast off a portentous and impious superstition, he embraced the Christian faith, and he adorns this narrative in wonderful ways, while at the same time, seizing the opportunity, he adds the praise of his mother. Then, returning to the design of the oration, he recounts certain miracles which had occurred at his baptism. From there he moves on to his episcopate, where he pursues his various praises, and amplifies his piety and the constancy of his faith by way of comparison, and clears him in passing because he had—perhaps imprudently—subscribed to a certain false and sacrilegious heretical dogma. Soon after, he praises his liberality and kindness in embracing the poor, and his contempt for human glory; and, having enumerated certain virtues to form a collection, he returns to the praise of humility, and handles it elegantly. To this he adds the facility for forgiving injuries, and the forgetting of wrongs, and an extraordinary humanity joined with a marvelous dexterity in the management of affairs. Finally, he explains how God honored him with a double miracle, namely, that divine vengeance immediately followed those by whom he had been offended, and that he himself, having been despaired of by the physicians, was, beyond all hope, restored by God to his former health; and because human holiness is clearly declared by these events, he adds how his mother, laboring under a most grave and atrocious illness, suddenly received health; and furthermore, in what manner he himself, tossed by a dangerous storm, escaped—by his parents' prayers—the most certain peril of death. Hence he betakes himself to the praise of fortitude and constancy. Having demonstrated this by many examples, he puts an end to the encomium of his father, and, turning the oration to his mother, now worn out by old age, he consoles her most elegantly and learnedly."

II. This oration was delivered in Nazianzus, approximately in the middle of the year 374. For, according to the learned, Gregory the Elder had died in the month of March or April of this year. This can also be proven by certain monuments. For first, it is certain that Gregory the father was already dead when Amphilochius was assumed to the see of Iconium. For at the time when he was ordained bishop of Iconium, our own Gregory was occupied in mourning for the death of his parent, as he himself writes to Amphilochius the father: "Does your son," he says, "cast you into grief, because for his virtue he is seized and honored? But does it not torture me, my father, that he has entered upon the final journey from us, from which he will no longer return to us, nor be seen by us?" Furthermore, Faustinus, whom Amphilochius succeeded, had died in the year 373. For Basil, writing to Eusebius, bishop of Samosata, says: "Iconium is a city of Pisidia... It invites us that we might visit it, so that we might give it a bishop. For Faustinus is dead." The learned agree that this letter was written in the year 373. Whether Amphilochius succeeded Faustinus immediately, or whether a certain heretic, who died or was expelled shortly thereafter, stood between Faustinus and Amphilochius, as some suppose, is not sufficiently clear. Whatever the case may be, it is certain that Amphilochius undertook the administration of the Church of Iconium in the year 374. For Basil consoles him, having been ordained bishop, in a letter given in that same year with these words: "Blessed is God, who in every age chooses those who are pleasing to Himself, and separates the vessels of election, and uses them for the ministry of the saints: who now, even when you were fleeing, as you yourself have said, has ensnared you—not us, but the vocation which you suspected would come through us—with the inevitable nets of grace, and has led you into the midst of Pisidia, so that you might catch men for God," etc. Since, therefore, the times of the ordination of Amphilochius and the death of Gregory the Elder coincide

and Basil was present at the ordination—or if not, he was certainly present at the funeral—it is not inaccurately conjectured that the death and funeral of Gregory the Father can be placed after the winter of the year 374. Nor should we be moved by what is read in the Menaea (p. 19), namely, that the memory of Gregory the Father is celebrated on the Kalends of January as the day he rested in peace. That kind of argument is utterly weak, and is sufficiently refuted by the facts already stated.

III. ^A It remains for us to clarify one or two of the more difficult points of this oration, which cannot be solved within the limits of short notes. First, let us say something about the Hypsistarians, in whose error Gregory the Elder was involved before he gave his name to Christ. Mention of the Hypsistarians is rare among the ancients. According to Suicer, nothing is found in Epiphanius, Augustine, Theodoret, Damascenus, and others who wrote about heresies in former times. Besides our Gregory and Nyssen, Hesychius and Suidas mention them. But these authors bring forward nothing beyond the reason for the name, suggesting that the Hypsistarians were so called because they worshipped and invoked the "Highest" or "Supreme" God. Nyssen, however, has only one thing to say (68): that they indeed "confessed that there is a God, whom they called the Highest or Almighty, but did not admit that He was the Father." ^B If, however, we listen to the Theologian, the error of the Hypsistarians was composed of two most opposite things, derived partly from Gentile error and partly from legal vanity. For the Hypsistarians, while rejecting idols and sacrifices, nevertheless worshipped "fire" and "lamps" along with the Gentiles; yet, while spurning "circumcision," they observed the "Sabbath" and a certain abstinence from some foods, along with the Jews. Whence these wretched and contemptible men gave themselves the name of Hypsistarians, because they alone acknowledged and worshipped the "Supreme" or "Highest." Epiphanius, although he makes no mention of the Hypsistarians, as we have already seen, tells a story of Euphemites, or Massalians, that is almost similar. For he says (69) that "they were born of Gentiles, and attend neither to Judaism nor Christianity; they say that there are gods, yet they worship none, but revere one alone, and call Him the Almighty." He also adds, "they have assemblies with the light of lamps" (which he calls *lychnias*). ^C These things do not differ much from what the ancients wrote about the Hypsistarians.

IV. A second difficulty regarding these same Hypsistarians occurs. It seems strange to Clericus (70) that our Gregory, when in this oration he denies that the Hypsistarians "worshipped idols" and says that his father Gregory was "born into their heresy," confesses in the first poem that "he was subject to the images of animals." Clericus thinks this is a contradiction. A fine master of critical art, indeed! To whom only one way of solving the knot occurs: namely, that our Gregory "spoke contrary things either through a lapse of memory or the impulse of too fervent zeal; unless perhaps, in what he said about the idols of animals, he ought to be excused for using hyperbole, as is his custom." Who does not get angry hearing these things? Or what faith is to be placed in a malevolent or ignorant interpreter? That audacious censor, who seems so skilled to himself, and who generally judges Gregory and other most learned and holy writers as rashly as he does arrogantly, has by no means grasped Gregory's mind here. For these are the words of the Theologian, ^D Poem 1, verse 125:

Ἀὐτὰρ ὄγ' ἀγριέλαιος, ὑπ᾽ εἰδώλοις πάρος ἦν Ζώων, etc. But he indeed (the father) was an olive tree, that lived Before, under the images, etc.

There is nothing said in this context about the idols of animals. A false interpretation of the word *zōōn* led Clericus into error, while he thinks he sees "idols of animals" where the Theologian, with no mention of animals made, presented his father as one who "lived under images." For the word *zōōn* is not, as grammarians say, the genitive plural of the noun *zōon*, "animal"; but the present participle of the verb *zōō* (poetically for *zaō*), "I live." We very often find that word, enjoying only the meaning of "living," used by Homer, Hesiod, Herodotus, and others. Truly, it is a mystery that this was ignored by Clericus, or rather, concealed. Furthermore, using this word "idols" or "images," Gregory did not on that account mean to signify the images of gods or animals; but only those things in general which are characteristic of superstitious heathenism, which the worshippers of the true God utterly reject—such as the elements of "fire and lamps," which the Hypsistarians religiously worshipped. Since, therefore, Gregory the Father worshipped these elements with a superstitious, even if not supreme, cult, the Theologian could say that his father lived "under idols" or "under images," that is, "under sensible elements." In which sense also must be understood what the presbyter Gregory writes in the *Life of the Theologian* (71): "Gregory's father, he says, having abandoned idols, migrated to the cult of piety; and, having shaken off the superstition of the Hypsistarians, shone forth as a sincere disciple of divine grace." The Theologian, therefore, while he discoursed concerning his Hypsistarian father, did not suffer a lapse of memory, nor was he carried away by excessive zeal, nor did he use hyperbole, from which Clericus seems to think an excuse for him can be derived.

V. From the text of this oration, another difficulty also arises: namely, whether Gregory the Father practiced "private worship" in his own "chamber," as some maintain. The matter is thus...

[MONITUM IN ORATIONEM XVIII]

The Theologian relates (n. 29): "The hour of the mystery had arrived... when he (Gregory the elder) was aroused by Him who calls the dead to life. At first he moved a little, then more firmly, and soon with a very faint and indistinct voice he ordered his servant... to offer him his vestment and to place his hand beneath him. When he appeared not without astonishment, and complied promptly, he himself, led by his hand as if by a staff, imitated that Moses praying on the mountain; and, with his hands joined for prayer ^A while broken and weakened, he celebrated with a ready spirit the mysteries for the people, or rather pre-celebrated them, with few words, and such as he could, but with a mind, as it seems to me, entirely perfect. A wondrous thing! Without a sanctuary, in a sanctuary; without an altar, a sacrificer; a priest removed from the mysteries... Afterwards, when he had spoken the words of thanksgiving, as custom requires, and had blessed the people, he cast himself back upon his bed." From this context, certain learned men, among whom is the most learned and pious Cardinal Bona (72), misled by the word "mystery," have supposed that Gregory the elder rose from his bed and performed a private sacrifice in his chamber. But if we seriously weigh the words of the Theologian, we shall discern that this was not a true and real sacrifice, but merely a mystical one, conceived in the mind by Gregory's act. "For, as Elias (73) says, 'They formerly called ^B the festivals mysteries, because of those things which were mystically performed in them': and I believe that in this place he (the Theologian) understands by 'mystery' the very time of the sacred gathering in which priests also celebrate mystical prayers. To this opinion, those things which follow also incline... Therefore, he indeed celebrates the mysteries for the people, being present in spirit with those who were celebrating these things at the altar, even if he was absent in body, by reason of bodily infirmity; but he 'pre-celebrates' them, by completing them in some measure and briefly before." In the same way interpret Basil, Billius, Tillemontius, etc. Therefore, Gregory the elder did not perform a "private sacrifice in his chamber," since those things required for a true sacrifice were absent therefrom—namely, the ornaments, the altar, the bread, and the chalice to be consecrated. For from the Theologian's context it follows only that Gregory the elder, lying ill on the solemn day of Pascha, rose from his bed and, in his room, with his hands composed for prayer, "recited liturgical prayers, with few words, and such as he could; and consequently, by word only, if I may so speak, he offered, gave thanks, blessed, etc. Which things being done, he cast himself back into his bed." ^C

ORATION XVIII. FUNERAL ORATION ON HIS FATHER

^A I. O man of God, faithful servant, and dispenser of the mysteries of God, and man of the desires of the Spirit—for by this name Scripture calls those who have advanced and are exalted, and superior to the things which are seen. I call you, too, the god of Pharaoh—that is, of all Egyptian and opposing power—and a pillar and foundation of the Church, and the will of the Lord, and a luminary in the world holding the word of life, and a support of faith, and an abode of the Spirit. But why should I enumerate all those titles which your virtue has begotten for you, one bringing and offering one thing, another another?

II. But tell me, I pray, whence do you come? And what is your work? And with what aim have you come to us? Since I have known you to be moved in all things with God and by God, for the benefit of those who receive you. Have you come to visit us? Or to seek your shepherd? Or to inspect your flock? ^B We are no longer present, but...

^A in the greatest part have already departed with him; and we are distressed by the place of our affliction. And now, more than ever, when we have lost that learned helmsman, or rather that lantern of our life, to whom we used to look as we were directed, and who beamed the light of salvation upon us from above; when he, having finished his journey along with all that is good, and having gathered within himself all the order of the pastoral office over a long period, is full of days and at the same time of prudence, and crowned with the old age of boasting, if one must use the words of Solomon. Or see the flock, perplexed and ^B cast down, and full of such despondency and gloom; no longer resting in a place of pasture, nor fed by waters of refreshment, but seeking out crags, and deserts, and chasms, in which it will be scattered and perish; mistrusting that it will ever again attain another prudent shepherd—convinced indeed that it will not attain one of such quality, and yet loving one, even if he be not much inferior.

III. Now since these three things, as I said, have brought upon you the necessity of coming here—namely, us, the flock, and the shepherd—come, according to the spirit of healing with which you are endowed, apply to each the remedy that is fitting, and arrange your discourse with judgment, so that we may admire you all the more for your wisdom. But how will you arrange it? As for the shepherd, if you praise him for his virtue, as is fitting, do not do so merely to offer a pure discourse to one who is pure, like some funeral offering; but also propose to others the pattern of his life, as a form and admonition of piety. ^C As for us, if you discourse briefly on life and death, on the conjunction and disjunction of soul and body, and on the two worlds—the present one, which is unstable, and that which is intelligible and abiding—and if you persuade us to despise the former, which is deceptive, and disordered, and uneven, and (just as among the waves) is carried up and down and carries others with it; and to attach ourselves to the latter, which is fixed, and stable, and godlike, and always remains the same, and is free from all disturbance and confusion: then indeed, those who have departed before us will cause us less sorrow. Nay, they will even fill us with joy, if the discourse leads us away from here and sets us on high, and hides the present unpleasantness in the expectation of the future, and persuades us that we ourselves are also hastening to a good Lord, ^D and that the final dwelling is better than this sojourning. And as a calm harbor is to those who are sailing, so is the departure and transition to that place for those who are storm-tossed here; or as those who have brought a long journey to an end, compared with those who are traveling and laboring.

so that the condition of those who have already arrived at that lodging is more tolerable and better than those who are still traversing the winding and precipitous path of this life.

^B IV. How, then, will you console us? And how, the flock? First, if you promise your care and guidance—that is, that the care of that man under whose wings it is beautiful and glorious for all to rest, and for whose voice those who labor with thirst pant more than for the purest springs, will not be wanting to them. Second, if you persuade us that the good Shepherd, who laid down his life for the sheep, has not abandoned us even now; but rather that He is present, and shepherds, and leads, and knows His own, and is known by His own—not indeed presenting Himself to be seen in a bodily manner, but dwelling with us in a spiritual manner, and fighting for the flock against the wolves, and permitting no one, after the manner of robbers and by craft, to leap over the fold and with a strange voice to drag away and steal souls ^C rightly led in the truth. And I believe that He performs this now even more by His intercession than before by His teaching, inasmuch as He now draws nearer to God, having shaken off bodily shackles and having been delivered from the mire that clouds the mind, and, naked, meets with "naked" and most pure Mind, having attained to the dignity and confidence of the angelic order, if it is not bold to say so. ^D You yourself, because of that power of speech and spirit in which you abound, will determine and philosophize better than I could show you. But in order that this oration might not fall far below his worth through ignorance of his virtues, I will sketch and prefigure some brief parts of the eulogy from those things which I have known in the departed, and I will commit them to you, a painter skilled in such matters, to polish more accurately the beauty of his virtue and to deliver it to the ears and minds of all mortals.

V. He, therefore (to pass over his country, his family, the natural endowments of his body, external splendor, and other things on account of which men think highly of themselves, according to the laws of eulogies, and to begin from those things that are first and most proper to us), was a sprout from a root not worthy of praise, nor well-disposed toward piety (for I am not ashamed of the first, being confident in the last), nor planted in the house of God, but one very absurd and monstrous, compounded from two most contrary things—that is, from Gentile error and legal prodigy. Fleeing the parts of both of these, he was constituted from certain parts. For while some reject the idols and sacrifices, they honor...

fire and lamps; but as for their observance of the Sabbath and a certain abstinence from some foods, they disdain circumcision. And these humble and abject men attribute to themselves the name of Hypsistarians, and offer veneration only to the Almighty. In this way, being in a sense double-formed toward impiety, from what source did such a one emerge? I do not know whether I should praise more the grace that called him, or his own deliberate choice of mind. However it may be, he so purged the eye of his mind from the "lemes" ^A that rested upon it, and rushed toward the truth with such speed, that he endured for a time to be deprived of mother and property for the sake of the heavenly Father and the true inheritance, and bore this ignominy more equitably and easily than others bear the highest honors. I myself wonder less at this, although in other respects it is a matter worthy of no small admiration. Why so? Because this glory is common to him with many others, and it behoves all to be enclosed within the great net of God, and to be ensnared by the words of the fishermen, even if some are caught by the Gospel sooner, and others later. But what I most of all must wonder at in his case, this it is necessary to speak of.

VI. He, even before he had joined our flock, was ours. For his character adopted him to us. For just as many of our own are not with us, whom their life removes from the common body; so on the contrary, many from without look toward us, whosoever, that is, advance the faith by their character, and while lacking the name, hold the thing itself. In this number my father was also, a branch indeed alien, but in life and character leaning toward us. And he excelled in the praise of modesty to such a degree, that he was at once most amiable and most chaste, two things which do not easily coincide in one person. But what greater and more illustrious argument for justice can be brought forward, than that, though engaged in the great offices of the commonwealth, he did not increase his means by even a farthing, and this while he saw others laying, as it is usually said, the hands of Briareus upon public goods and swelling with evil gains? For so do I call riches unjustly collected. As for prudence, although these are not meager indications, the discourse as it proceeds will declare more. For these things, as I suppose, he brought back faith also, by way of ^B reward. And how this came to pass (for a matter of such importance ought not to be passed over in silence), we shall make clear.

VII. I have heard the divine Scripture saying: *Who shall find a valiant woman?* ^C And this gift is from God. ^D

^A Migne’s view is shared also by those outside the faith; for among them it is said: *Nothing better can befall a man than a good wife, nor, conversely, anything worse than a bad one.* Here it is impossible to say who was more fortunate in this regard. For I think that if anyone, from the ends of the earth and from the entire human race, had endeavored to arrange the most excellent marriage, he could not have found one better or more fitting. For in this case, the most excellent of men and women of such a kind came together that this marriage was a union of virtue no less than of bodies; and although they surpassed others, they could not prevail over one another on account of the balance and equal honor of their virtue.

^B VIII. And indeed she who was given to Adam as a helpmate (since it was not good for man to be alone) proved to be his adversary rather than his partner, and not a yoke-mate but an opponent; for she ensnared her husband through pleasure and alienated him from the tree of life by means of the tree of knowledge. In contrast, the woman granted to him by God’s favor was not only a helpmate (for that would be less cause for wonder), but became a leader, guiding him by deed and word toward the best things through herself. And while she judged it best that in all other matters she should be overcome by the law of marriage, she was not ashamed to present herself as his teacher in piety. It is worthy to admire her, but it is yet more worthy to admire him who willingly yielded. For she was one who, while other women vied and took pride in the elegance of their beauty—both natural and artificial—knowing only one beauty, that of the soul, and either preserving the divine image or cleansing it to the best of her ability, cast away all painted and artificial adornments as fit only for stage-actresses. She deemed the only true nobility to consist in piety, and in knowing whence we have come and whither we must eventually go. Furthermore, she considered the only safe and inviolable wealth to be that which is poured out upon God and the poor, and especially upon those of her own kin ^C who had withered; to these she believed that providing merely for their needs was not a remedy for their distress, but only a reminder of it; whereas to assist them more generously was the mark of true honor and the most perfect consolation. And having surpassed all others—both those who excel in worldly utility and those who excel in piety (for it is difficult to attain both)—by reaching the zenith in each and being the only one to bring both together, she thus augmented her household with her own diligence and forethought, following the standards and laws of Solomon regarding the valiant woman, ^D and being the sole one to reconcile the two.

For she increased her household affairs with such industry and skill, as if she knew nothing of piety, while on the other hand, she dedicated herself to God and divine matters as if she were entirely removed from the administration of household affairs. Neither was she hindered by either of these, so as to be unable to fulfill the other; but rather, she supported and strengthened each by the help of the other.

^A IX. What time of prayer, what place, ever escaped her? For there was nothing throughout the day to which she was not first impelled. Or rather, who ever had like hope that as soon as she asked for something, she would immediately obtain what she sought? What woman so feared the hand and countenance of priests, or honored every form of philosophy? Who more than she attenuated the flesh with fastings and vigils, or stood fixed like a pillar in daily and nightly psalmody? Who held virginity in greater admiration, even while upholding the bond of marriage? Who was a greater protection to orphans and widows? Who equally relieved the calamities of those who mourned? And these things, moreover—which are perhaps considered small, and by some are even despised, because they are not easily accessible to the majority (for it is common that what someone cannot attain, they deem not even credible, out of envy)—are nevertheless of great value to me, because they were the discoveries of faith and the efforts of spiritual fervor. Of this kind is the fact that her voice was never heard in sacred assemblies or places, if we except the necessary and ^B mystical ones.

X. But if it was of old a great and noble thing for an altar that no iron should ascend upon it, nor that a tool should be seen or heard, indicating thereby something more sublime—namely, that whatever is consecrated to God ought to be natural, simple, and devoid of artifice and pretense—why should it not also be a great praise for her that she honored holy things in silence; that she never turned her back upon the venerable table, nor spat upon the divine pavement; that she never joined her hand to the hands, nor her lips to the lips, of any pagan woman, however otherwise honorable and closely related? Nay, she did not even share common salt, not only willingly but not even when compelled, with those who came from a profane and impure table; nor did she ever endure, contrary to the law of her conscience, to pass by or even look upon an impure and sacrilegious house; nor did she suffer her ear and tongue, which were receiving and uttering divine things, to be contaminated by pagan narrations and theatrical songs (for nothing profane is suitable for holy things). And—what is more admirable still than these—she never gave so much to bodily grief, ^D although she was exceptionally moved by the sufferings of others, that she would ever, before

^A thanksgiving, allow a cry to break forth, or a tear to fall from an eyelid that had been mystically sealed, or a mournful guise to remain, even though many painful things often befell her, and even though a bright day might be present. For it belongs to a soul dear to God to bow all human things to divine things.

^B 337 XI. Now, I shall pass over in silence those things more secret than these, of which God is witness, and the faithful handmaids to whom she entrusted such matters. For that which concerns us is perhaps not even worthy of mention, inasmuch as we have not at all answered to her hope; although her effort directed toward us was great, in that she promised us to God even before our birth, fearing nothing of the future, and consecrated us immediately upon our being brought to light. But it was God’s benefit that she did not fail entirely in her prayer, nor was the holy offering repudiated.

Now, these things were in part already present, and in part were approaching, increasing little by little by quiet additions. And just as the sun, striking the eyes most sweetly with its morning rays, stands more fervent and splendid at midday; in the same way she, having brought to light no small tokens of piety from the beginning, shone forth more fully at the last light. At that time, therefore, the one who had settled her in his house possessed a no small stimulus of piety from the hearth, seeing that she had from of old, and from her ancestors, been endowed with the love of God and Christ, and had received the inheritance of virtue from her fathers. She had not, however, been grafted like him from a wild olive into a cultivated one, nor, because of an incredible magnitude of faith, did she bear to yoke herself with a man of a different religion; but, although she excelled all women in the praise of patience and fortitude in other respects, this one thing she could not bear with equanimity: that she should be joined to God only by half, on account of the aversion of the one who was her other part, and that the union of the spirit should not be added to the joining of their bodies. And for this reason, she would fall before God night and day, and pray for the salvation of her head with many fasts and tears; and she would press upon her husband diligently, and endeavor to win him over in various ways—by reproaches, by admonitions, by services, by disputes, and, what was of the greatest importance, by the probity of her own character and by her fervent zeal for piety, by which a soul is most of all bent and softened and willingly forced toward virtue. For the drop of water was destined to hollow out the rock by constantly striking it, and in time to accomplish what she strove for; and the things that follow clearly demonstrate this. ^{C D}

^A XII. She asked for these things and hoped for them, seeing as she was fervent in faith rather than in her youth. For no one was so confident in present things as she was in those things hoped for, having learned by experience of God’s generosity. Logic, indeed, also contributed to her salvation, gradually accepting the cure; but a vision in dreams also contributed, through which God often assists a soul worthy of being saved. But what was this vision? Here is the most delightful part of the entire narrative for me. She thought—which she had never done before, even though, being a wife, she was frequent in prayer—that she was chanting that portion of the Psalms of David: I was glad for those who said to me, We shall go into the house of the Lord (Ps. CXXI, 1). This song was new and unusual, and longing entered into her along with the song. When the woman heard this, having already obtained her vow, she seized the opportunity, interpreting this vision in the most delightful way by an accurate conjecture. She declared the magnitude of the benefit with the joy of her soul, and urged on her salvation, lest anything should intervene to hinder the calling and interrupt the undertaking on which she was bent with the greatest zeal. And certainly, since the situation had turned out such that several bishops were hastening to Nicaea, ^B in order to withstand the madness of Arius—as that heresy which was splitting the Godhead had just recently arisen—she surrendered herself to God and to the heralds of the truth, confessed her longing, and asked of them the common salvation; among whom was that illustrious Leontius, who at that time was governing our metropolis. But as for the miracle which here, too, was brought about by divine grace, if I were to remain silent, I would truly do a great injustice to that grace. There were not a few witnesses to this miracle. The masters of accurate discipline admit a certain spiritual error, and grace prefigures what was to come, and the form of the priesthood is mingled with the instruction. O, an initiation that was by no means spontaneous! For, having knelt down, he was so imbued with the words of instruction, that many of those present, not only the more talented, ^C but even the simpler ones, predicted the future, being confirmed by no obscure signs as to what was to come. XIII. Not much time had elapsed when another miracle was attached to this miracle; I shall commend this account to pious ears, for to profane souls nothing of what is noble is credible. He approached the rebirth through water ^D while still one of the catechumens, who were not accustomed to bend their knees, but only to offer their ears to be anointed with oil; yet he, against the law of instruction, bent his knees while being instructed, and the one who was instructing, also having erred as well, offered not the prayer of instruction, but of the priesthood.

^A And he approaches that regeneration which is effected through water and the Spirit, through which we confess to God the formation and perfection of the man who is according to Christ, and the change and refashioning of the earthly into the spiritual; and he approaches with ardent desire and with bright hope, having purified himself for the laver as much as he was able—having cleansed himself in soul and body, much more so than those who were once about to receive the tablets from Moses. For to them, the purification extended no further than their garments, a slight restricting of the belly, and a certain temporary temperance; but for him, his whole life in the interim was a preparation for the illumination, and before the purification there was a purification ensuring the gift, so that perfection might be entrusted to purity, and the good might not be endangered by being dared in a habit ^B that presided over the help of grace. And as he came up out of the water, a light shone around him and a glory worthy of the disposition of mind with which he had approached the grace of faith; it was visible even to some others, who at the time kept the miracle silent within themselves, not daring to speak of it—for each supposed that this vision had occurred to him alone—but a little later they shared it with one another. To Him who was baptizing and initiating, however, it was so manifest and well-known that he could not even contain the mystery in his breast, but cried out publicly that he had anointed his own successor with the Spirit.

^C XIV. And no one who has heard and known this would disbelieve that Moses, while he was still small among the many, and not yet accounted worthy of any [public] reputation, was called from the bush—which was burning indeed, but not being consumed, or rather by Him who was appearing in the bush—and was confirmed by that first miracle: that Moses, I say, he to whom the sea is divided, and bread rains down, and the rock gushes forth, and the pillar of fire and cloud lead the way, while standing by each other, and the stretching forth of whose hands sets up a trophy [of victory], and overcomes many myriads, prefiguring the cross. And Isaiah, the spectator of the glory and of the seraphim, and after him Jeremiah, who was entrusted with great power against nations and kings—the one hears the divine voice and is purified for the prophecy ^D by the coal; the other is known before his formation and sanctified before his birth. And Paul, being still a persecutor, the great herald of the truth, the teacher of the gentiles in faith—

he is enveloped in light, and he recognizes Him whom he was persecuting, and is entrusted with the great ministry, and fills every ear and mind with the Gospel. ^A

XV. But what need is there to recount all those who have been called by God, and were assured by such miracles as those by which that man also was confirmed in piety? And those early beginnings were not of such a kind, so incredible and paradoxical, that they subsequently brought shame and disgrace upon any of the preceding events, as is the way with some who quickly conceive a satiety and loathing for honorable things, and care not to progress further, or even fall back entirely into vice. It is not possible to say this of him; on the contrary, he remained quite consistent with himself and clung to his former footsteps, so that both parts harmonized beautifully with each other—the events before the priesthood with the good deeds of his priesthood, and those after it with what had gone before. And it was not fitting that he should have begun in any other way than how he ended, nor that he should have proceeded toward any other end than that from which he had taken his beginning. ^B He accepts the priesthood, not with that ease and disorder which flourishes now, but after some interval of time had elapsed, so that he might add to his own purification the skill and power of purifying others, as the law of spiritual order requires. And after he accepted it, the grace was celebrated all the more, as being in truth the grace of God and not of men, nor, as the Ecclesiastes says, some unbridled impulse and presumption of the spirit.

XVI. For having received the Church, wooded and untilled, not long before governed by episcopal care, but adorned by only one of his predecessors—who, though he was endowed with admirable and angelic ways, was yet simpler than those who now preside over the people—and he having been most quickly taken up into heaven, the Church had for a long time been neglected again and, through the lack of a bishop, had become squalid and overgrown with briars. ^C First of all, he softened the beast-like morals of the men without much difficulty, both by the discourses of pastoral art and also by offering himself for imitation, like a spiritual statue polished to the beauty of every excellent action. Then, having applied himself to the meditation of the sacred Scriptures with the greatest intensity of mind, although he had come late to such studies, he gathered so much erudition within a short time, that he was second to none of those who had labored most, and from God he received this exceptional grace: to become a father and teacher of orthodoxy. ^D

He did ^A not, like the wise men of this age, sway with the times, nor did he handle the word of God in a mediocre and artificial manner—as do those who lack a firm foundation of faith, or who trade in the truth—but he was more pious than the skilled rhetoricians and more logical than those who are sound of mind. Or rather, while being second to none in eloquence, he surpassed all in piety. He understood one God, worshiped in Trinity, and three gathered into one Godhead; and he did not lean toward Sabellianism through the one, nor toward Arianism through the three—either by impiously restricting or dissolving the Godhead, or by cutting it into unequal alienations of magnitude or nature. For where each thing is incomprehensible and beyond our conception, how can that which excels be grasped or defined here? And how is the infinite to be measured, so that the Godhead, which is above all limited things, should suffer this, being measured by degrees and foundations? ^B

XVII. When that great man of God, truly a Theologian, and moved by the Spirit concerning these matters, pondered these things, what else is to be said but that he caused this to be called a new Jerusalem and a sort of second ark mounting above the waters, just like that great Noah, the parent of this second world; and that he called this Church his own? It clearly surpassed the flood of souls that was then raging, and the assaults of the heretics; and by as much as it fell short of others in number, by so much did it prevail in glory. And it experienced the lot of sacred Bethlehem, which nothing prevented from being at once a small city and the metropolis of the world, inasmuch as it was the parent and nurse of Christ, the maker and victor of the world.

XVIII. Evidence of this ^C is as follows: For when a sedition was stirred up against us by the more fervent part of the Church, initiated by a document and by artificial words, and we had been drawn into a wicked faction, he alone was believed to have kept his mind unharmed and his soul un-blackened by that ink, even if he had been carried away through the simplicity of his mind and had not guarded against [their] guile because his own soul was free from all guile. He alone, or rather first, reconciled those who dissented from us for the sake of religious zeal, both to himself and to others; the last to be separated from us and the first to run back, out of reverence for the man and out of the purity of his doctrine; ^D so that even the great surging...

^A of the churches has been extinguished, and the squall has been restored to a calm, released by his prayers and exhortations—if it is permitted to speak with a youthful boastfulness—we, who were his companions in piety and labor, who were his helpers and associates in every good work, and who ran, as it were, at his side, have by the grace of God contributed the greatest part of the work and zeal. But let the account of these things, having run a little ahead, rest in this place.

XIX. For who could either enumerate the multitude of his virtues, or, wishing to pass over many things, easily find what should be omitted? ^B For whenever something enters the mind, it always seems more excellent than those things which preceded it; and I embrace this. I am more in doubt as to what I ought to omit than other panegyrists are as to what they ought to say. Thus it happens that my abundance in a way turns to my detriment, and my mind itself is tested as it sets out to explore his praises, yet can find nothing more excellent among things that are equal. For what we see happening in still waters—when a pebble falls in and makes a center, one circle after another is raised, and by continuously rippling, the latter always dissolves the outer circle—this has happened to me precisely in this matter. For one thing comes into my mind, another overcomes it, and another has withdrawn; and I labor in the selection, while that which I first seized gives way to that which later flows into my mind.

XX. For who was more diligent than he in public affairs? Who was wiser in domestic matters, ^C since God, who administers all things rightly and in manifold ways, granted him both a home and sufficient wealth? Who was more compassionate in spirit, or more generous and lavish in hand, toward the poor—that is, the most despised portion of our equal nature, to whom the same honor is owed? For in truth, he thought of his own goods as though he were a steward of another’s property, alleviating the poverty of the poor as much as he could, and expending not only what was superfluous, but also what was necessary for that purpose—which is indeed the clearest proof of charity toward the poor—and giving a portion not only to seven, as the law of Solomon prescribes, ^D but if an eighth should also approach, he did not labor under the vice of a restricted and sordid mind even then, but poured out his own possessions more willingly than others acquire them, removing the bond and the choice (which I interpret as tenacity and the scrutiny of whether or not the one who is to receive is worthy), and the word of murmuring along with the gift. This is what most people suffer, giving indeed, but not adding cheerfulness, which is greater and more perfect than the act of giving itself. For it is much better

^A to bestow even upon the undeserving for the sake of the deserving, than to deprive the deserving of their proper honor for the sake of the undeserving. And this seems to be the meaning of the command to cast one's bread even upon the waters, not that it will be scattered or perish before the just Judge of these things, but that it will arrive there where all our possessions will be laid up, and will meet us in time, even if we do not think so.

XXI.

XXII.

has brought men to the sanctuary, or has felt zeal against the injuries done to Him, or has with fear cleansed the sacred table from profane men? And who with such unwavering judgment, and with the scales of justice, has either judged a case, or hated wickedness, or honored virtue, or preferred the best of men? Who was so forgiving to those who sin, or so compliant with those who run the race well? And who, knowing best the time for both the rod and the staff, 79 has bestowed more grace upon the staff? And whose eyes were turned more toward the faithful of the earth, and among others, especially toward those who live for God in a solitary and celibate life, having counted the earth and the things of the earth as nothing?

XXIII. Now who has more restrained pride, or loved humility, and that not feignedly, or superficially, as do the many of the present day who wear the mask of virtue? And who are in appearance learned and elegant—being ^B not unlike the most foolish of women, who, bereft of native beauty, have recourse to paints, and in a way that is somehow decent and adorned, if I may so speak, exhibit themselves as if in theaters, being ugly because of their desire for beauty, and more deformed because of their filth? For humility did not reside in his clothing, but in the disposition of his soul; nor did a bowing of the neck, or a lowering of the voice, or a turning aside of the countenance, or a long beard, or an extreme shaving of the head, or a certain manner of walking, fashion his humility—things which, as they can be expressed for a brief space of time, so do they also betray themselves just as quickly; for nothing simulated is constant and lasting. But he was himself both in life most sublime, and in mind ^C most humble; and although no one could aspire to his virtue, the path to his company was most easy for all. And although he used the common and customary style of dress, abhorring equally both pride and squalor, yet by reason of his internal splendor he rose above many. And while he subdued and restrained the malady of the belly and its insatiable greed, as if any other man did, he did not however make a show of it—the former, that he might keep himself pure; the latter, that he might not, by catching at glory through the novelty of the thing, be puffed up in his mind. For it is indeed the work of a man of the world to do and say everything ^D from which he might be thought highly of by those on the outside, for whom there is nothing more blessed than the present life; but for the spiritual man, and for those like us, the work is to look to one thing only—salvation; and whatever may lead to this, to consider it a great thing, and whatever does not, to spit upon it as worth nothing.

^A For this cause, while he held that which is seen as of no account, he looked only to how things might be at their best within, and set great store by those things which would make him himself most worthy, and would draw others also, through his example, toward the best.

XXIV. On his Simplicity and Meekness

XXIV. But among all his ornaments, nothing was so beautiful and characteristic of him, and indeed recognized by the many, as his simplicity, and his guileless and ungrudging character. For one man is believed to have excelled in one strength of the ancient or modern days, as each happened to be deemed worthy of some grace from God. Job was distinguished for his endurance and invincibility in trials; Moses and David for their meekness; Samuel for his power to prophesy, looking toward things to come; Phinees for his zeal, from which he also takes his name; Peter and Paul ^B for the intensity of their preaching; the sons of Zebedee for their proclamation, for which they were called Sons of Thunder. And why should I count them all? For I speak to those who know these things. But for Stephen and my father, nothing made them so noble and distinguished as their gentleness and innocence of character. For the one, even when brought into danger of his life, did not hate those who attacked him; but while he was being stoned, he prayed for those who stoned him, as a disciple of Christ, for whom he was suffering, bearing fruit for God greater than death—namely, long-suffering. The other felt no interval at all between the criticism and the forgiveness; in fact, the pain caused by the injury was, by the speed of his pardon, almost snatched away.

XXV. On his Wrath, How it was Governed

XXV. We believe and hear that there is a certain "dregs" of divine wrath, ^C that is, the remnant of movement against those who are worthy of it, since God is the Lord of vengeance. For even if, out of his love for mankind, he inclines from severity toward leniency, yet he does not entirely overlook those who sin, lest they should become worse through his kindness. But my father reserved nothing against those who provoked him, although he was not entirely invulnerable to anger, especially when overcome by zeal in spiritual matters—unless he happened to be prepared and armed, and had drawn up his defenses against that which would cause him annoyance, as if against an enemy from afar. In such a case, he would not have been moved by myriads, as the saying goes, and even this movement of his soul was sweet. For his anger was not according to the likeness of the ^D surface, smoldering within and ready for retaliation, nor did it arrive at wrath from the first impulse and the desire for counter-attack, but rather at the center of the

surface, smoldering within and ready for retaliation, nor did it arrive at wrath from the first impulse and the desire for counter-attack; truth be told, he was like the sting of a bee, which pricks in such a way that it does not bring death: yet such was his benignity, the likes of which it seems one should not even demand of a human being. He often threatened wheels and scourges, and those who would carry them out were ready at hand; but the danger ended either in a pulling of the ears, or an affront to the cheeks, or blows struck with the fist. Thus were his threats dissolved. Garments and shoes were removed, and he who had committed some crime lay prostrate on the ground: afterwards, his anger ^A would turn, not against the one who had committed the injustice, but against him who had promptly and zealously carried out the penalty, as being a minister of evils. Truly, how could anyone have seemed more kind, or more worthy to offer gifts to God? For he was often stirred to anger, but would immediately apologize for the one who had provoked him, blushing for that man's sins just as if they were his own.

XXVI. The rose would rather have endured the sun diffusing its morning rays than that any anger should reside in his soul.

and forgiveness, often brings great salvation, ^A holding back the offender and transforming their fear into a more secure goodwill. Some were chastised, thrown by oxen exhausted by the yoke, which rushed upon them suddenly, having never suffered such a thing before; others were thrown by horses and trampled, [though these were] among the most obedient and gentle of creatures; others were seized by insufferable fevers and visions of the things they had dared to do; others were disciplined in other ways, and learned obedience from what they had suffered.

XXVII. Was his gentleness, then, so great and so widely known that he surrendered the advantage in industry and the virtue concerned with practical affairs to another? Not at all. He was, in fact, the same man—gentle, if ever anyone was, yet active in his gentleness. For two things that, for the most part, fight and stand against one another—simplicity and severity—of which the one possesses gentleness combined with inaction, and the other possesses the practical aspect stripped of humanitarianism—these two came together marvelously in him: he would act, when necessary, with the severity of a man of action, together with gentleness; and he would yield, ^B as one not given to action, with perfection, in governance, in boldness of speech, in every manner of leading. For having mingled the prudence of the serpent regarding evil with the simplicity of the dove regarding what is good, he did not allow his prudence to become knavery, nor his simplicity to become folly; but rather, he perfected one form of virtue from both, as far as was possible, precise in all its parts. Having shown himself such a man, and having so presided over the priesthood, and having attained such glory among all people, what wonder is it that he was also deemed worthy of the signs by which God confirms piety? ^C

XXVIII. Among the miracles concerning him was this: he was suffering from an illness and was in a bad state of body. And what is wonderful if holy men also suffer, whether for the cleansing of even a small amount of mire, or for the testing of virtue and the proof of philosophy, or for the instruction of the weaker ones, who learn from them to endure and not to lose heart in their afflictions? He was suffering, then, and the time was the holy and renowned Easter, the king of days, the brightest night, which dissolves the darkness of sin, during which we, under abundant light, celebrate the salvation of ^D our own selves, and, having been deadened together with the Light that died for our sake, we rise again together with Him as He rises. At that time, then, the crisis of the season was present; but the state of affairs was, to tell it briefly: A fever, fierce and burning, was consuming his whole depth, and his strength had failed him, while of food...

he was deprived, sleep had departed, he knew not where to turn, and he frequently fainted from palpitations of the heart. Now all the inner parts of his mouth, and the palate itself, and whatsoever hangs above it, were teeming with so many and such bitter and continuous ulcers, that even the passage for water was neither easy nor without danger. ^B Neither indeed could the arts of physicians, nor the prayers, however assiduous, of kinsmen or close friends, nor any kind of cure, be sufficient to repel the disease. And he was in this state, breathing in a small and desperate way, and not even recognizing those present, but entirely intent upon his departure, and upon those things which he had long since desired, and which had been made ready for him. We, however, were in the temple, ^C mystics and suppliants at the same time (all other remedies being, as it were, despaired of, we took refuge with the great physician and the power of that night, as our final hope and aid); what shall I say? Were we to keep the feast, or were we to mourn? Were we to take joy from the celebration of the day, or were we to honor him, who was no longer here, with funeral rites? O those tears, which the whole people then poured forth! What voices and clamors were intermingled with the singing of the psalms! ^D From the temple they sought the priest, from the mystery the celebrant of the sacred rites, from God the worthy attendant; and this was led by my Maria, beating the timbrel—not the triumphal one, but the suppliant one—and then for the first time setting aside modesty for the sake of grief, and imploring the people and God alike with great cries; the former, that they might suffer with her who was suffering, and vie with one another in their tears; the latter, that He might hear those who were praying, and (for grief has great power at discovery) remind Him of all the miracles He had formerly performed.

XXIX. What then of that night, and of God, concerning him who lay there? As I proceed to the narration of the things that follow, a shuddering comes over me; and I would that you too might shudder, you who are listening, but do not withhold your faith from the account: for it is not right, since we are speaking both of ourselves and of him. ^C The time of the mystery was present, and the venerable standing and order, keeping quiet and silence for the things being celebrated, when he is aroused by Him who calls the dead to life, and by the sacrosanct night. At first he moves a little, then more firmly: soon, with a very small and faint voice, he summons one of those who were attending him by name, and bids him be present and offer a garment, and hold out a hand. And he who was present, with astonishment and...

^A prompt obedience, acts as a staff to guide his hand, and he imitates that Moses on the mountain; and having set his weakened hands in the posture of prayer, he eagerly performs or rather presides over the mysteries for the people, with few words, and as many as he could manage, but with a mind, as it seems to me, most perfect. O the miracle! Without a sanctuary in a sanctuary, without an altar a sacrificer, a priest far removed from the mysteries; and these things were present to him from the Holy Spirit, perceived by him, but not at all visible to those who were present. Afterward, when he had uttered the words of thanksgiving ^B in the customary manner, and had blessed the people, he returns again to his bed, and having taken a little food and partaken of sleep, he gathers his strength. And when his health had gradually increased, and the new day of the feast was at hand (which we call the first Lord’s Day, as we reckon it after that day of Resurrection), he reaches the sanctuary with the whole body of the Church, dedicates the salvation, and offers the thanksgivings. And this act of his, in my judgment, is no less worthy than the miracle done in the case of Hezekiah; he, having fallen ill and prayed, was glorified by God with an addition of life; and this He made known by the shadow of the steps returning, according to the request of the one who was saved; ^C at once honoring the king with the grace and with the sign, and confirming the addition of days by the addition of the day.

XXX. The same miracle occurred also in my mother, not long afterward, and it is worth while not to pass over this either; for we shall honor her with what is fitting, if anyone is worthy of honor, and we shall share the communion of the narrative with him. An illness seized her, strong and generous as she was, and healthy for all her life. But while there were many painful symptoms, so as not to prolong the story, the most severe was the lack of nourishment, which she suffered dangerously for many days, and found no remedy for this evil. How then does God feed her? Not by raining manna, as of old for Israel; or by a rock

so that it might gush forth for a thirsty people; or by feeding her with ravens, as that Elias of old; or by satisfying her through a prophet caught up on high, as Daniel earlier when he was oppressed by hunger in the den. In what manner, then? It seemed to her that I, whom she held most dear (for she preferred me to all others, nor did she ever prefer anyone else to me even in a dream), suddenly appeared to her by night, holding a basket with the whitest of loaves, and that after I had blessed them and marked them with the sign of the cross in my accustomed way, I had fed her and restored her, and that thus she had regained her strength. And truly that nocturnal vision was a work of truth. For from that time she returned to herself and conceived a better hope. ^B And this is manifest from an open and clear proof. For when, on the following morning, I entered to her and first saw that she was more cheerful than before, and then asked the usual questions as to how she had fared during the night and whether she stood in need of anything: "You have fed me, O my son," she replied, "quite readily and kindly, and do you then ask how I am? I am remarkably well and at peace." At the same time, the handmaidens signaled to me with a nod of the head not to contradict her, but to accept this answer at once, lest, should the truth be revealed, she be overcome by grief. I shall add one more thing common to us both.

XXXI. When I was sailing from Alexandria across the Parthenian Sea towards Greece (I was sailing in an Aeginetan ship at a completely untimely season, as my longing so persuaded me; for what particularly impelled me was that I had fallen in with sailors who were acquaintances), as I say, ^C as I was sailing and we had already proceeded but a little way, a grave storm arose, such as those who were sailing with me said they had rarely remembered before. And while all feared the common death, to me, on the contrary, the death of the soul brought a greater dread. For I, wretched, had fallen into danger of departing from this life without being initiated, longing for the spiritual water amidst the destructive and deadly waves. And therefore I cried out, I besought, I begged for a brief respite. My fellow passengers also cried out with me, and this in the midst of common perils, acting as if they were not merely strangers who, being human, had learned from perils to show compassion, but even some of my own kin. This I ^D was suffering, and my parents were suffering with me, participating in the danger through a nocturnal vision, and from the land they brought aid, as it were enchanting the force of the waves with their prayers, as we learned when we returned and pieced together the time. This, too, a saving sleep revealed to us, once we recognized it, after the surge had slightly abated. I was holding fast to the Fury, looking fearfully...

^A at her visage as she threatened danger—for this is what the night clearly depicted for us. Another of those sailing with us (he was a boy, one of those most friendly and dear to me, and deeply anxious for me, as the situation stood) seemed to see my mother, who had entered the sea, and taking hold of the ship, was pulling it to land with no great effort. And the vision proved trustworthy; for the sea was growing calm, and we immediately put in at Rhodes, having suffered not much in the interval. We ourselves became a gift for that danger; for as we had vowed ourselves to God if we escaped the peril, so, once we had been preserved, we gave ourselves to Him as a gift.

^B XXXII. These things, then, were common to both. I have long wondered, however, at some of those who are clearly acquainted with his affairs, why it is that, having spent so much time on these matters—as if we had only these things to recount for his praise—we should have delayed mentioning the difficulties of the times, against which he himself appears to have drawn up a battle line, as if we were either unaware of them or did not deem them great. Come then, let us add these to what has already been said. Our age bore a first, and I think also a last, evil: that is, an emperor who fell away both from God and from his own wits; who, considering it a small task to subjugate the Persians to his empire and dominion, but a great one to bring the Christians into his power, and at the same time being persuaded to this by the demons who led him, omitted no species of impiety, using persuasion, threats, and sophistry, dragging men to himself not only by the tricks he devised, but also by those with which he used force. Nor was he able to conceal his persecution under the guise of sophistical schemes, nor did he use his power openly, so that we might be caught in one way or the other—whether by being wickedly deceived or by being compelled. Who, then, could be found who has more either despised or thwarted this man? Of his contempt, among many other signs, the witnesses are those archers, and their commander, whom he had sent against our holy houses ^C as if to receive them by surrender or to destroy them. For since he had attacked many others, he came there too with the same arrogance, and, with the emperor’s mandates, demanded the house of God for himself; and he fell so short of accomplishing any of what he willed, that had he not—whether by his own counsel or by listening to someone’s advice—quickly yielded to my father, he would have departed with feet bruised, such was the anger and zeal burning against him for the temple of the Master. ^D And how could anyone be seen to have brought about his defeat more, whether by public prayers and supplications...

^A for the utter destruction of that unclean and sacrilegious man, fearing not even the time, but privately setting against him a nocturnal battle-array, and by sleeping upon the ground wearing out those aged and dew-kissed limbs, and drenching the pavement with tears, for nearly an entire year—and this, he, while keeping it known only to Him who knows hidden things, and practicing philosophy alone, yet attempting to hide it from us, as I said, because of the freedom from ostentation of his piety? And he would certainly have remained entirely hidden, had I not once suddenly entered his bedchamber, and perceiving the signs of a pallet, and inquiring of one of his servants what this might be, I learned the mystery of the night.

XXXIII. ANOTHER NARRATION OF THE SAME TIME AND OF THE SAME FORTITUDE

Receive [now] another narrative of the same time and of the same fortitude. The citizens of Caesarea were contending among themselves regarding the creation of a bishop, for one had departed and another was required, and the sedition was fervent and not easily to be suppressed or allayed. ^B For by its nature the city is especially prone to sedition in this matter, due to the warmth of its faith, and the glory and splendor of the see brought a greater heap of contention. And so matters stood; and some of the bishops were present, that they might provide a high priest. But since the multitude was distracted into several opinions, and one proposed one person and another another, as is wont to happen in such matters, just as each person was led either by benevolence toward someone or by piety toward God, at last the whole populace, with one accord, seized a certain man of the primary order, excellent indeed in life and character, but not yet sealed by divine baptism, ^C and, albeit unwilling and resisting, and with the aid of the military forces that were then in the city, they placed him in the sanctuary and presented him to the bishops, and began to demand that they initiate him and proclaim him high priest, mixing force with persuasion in the interim: not, indeed, in a very orderly or composed manner, but yet very piously and ardently. Nor is it to be said here who was more illustrious than he, or more excelling in piety: time revealed this. For what occurs, and where has the sedition advanced? They were forced, they purified him, they proclaimed him high priest, they placed him ^D upon the throne, by hand more than by intent and disposition of spirit; but this was made known by the events that followed. For as they departed content, and became masters of their own mind, they entered into counsel with one another—I do not know whether by the impulse of the Spirit, but they entered into it nonetheless, namely, that nothing of those things which had been done should be held valid, nor the constitution itself approved—calling to account the force used against him, though he had been forced no less, and seizing upon certain words as having been spoken then more rashly than wisely. Not, however, was the great high priest and just examiner of affairs carried away with those who were deliberating these things, nor did he approve their opinion; but he remained

constant and invincible, no less than if no violence at all had been brought to bear upon him. For since the violence was universal, it was required that either those who accused should in turn be accused, or those who absolved should be absolved; or, what was more just, that not even those who absolved should be absolved. For if pardon was due to the former, it was surely due to the latter as well; but if those were not to be pardoned in any way, much less were the former. For it would have been far better for them to have faced the danger of that time and to have resisted to the very end, than to have prepared snares later on, and that especially at a time when existing enmities should rather have been laid aside than new ones devised. For so the situation stood.

^A XXXIV. The emperor arrived, raging against the Christians; he bore this ordination with an angry and inflamed mind, and threatened grievous things against him who had been promoted. The city was on the razor's edge, whether it should cease to exist after that day, or escape the danger and obtain some measure of humanity. For in addition to the grievances by which he was already provoked concerning the temple of Fortune—which had been demolished and razed during a time of prosperity—the ordination of that man was added, which he interpreted as a subversion and, as it were, a plundering of public affairs. He who governed the province was seeking ways by which he might comply with the times and punish the man with some evil, as he was not otherwise of a friendly and benevolent mind toward him, but rather a dissenter due to opposing political views. He summoned those who had performed the ordination by letters, as if they were to be accusers, no longer gently and remissly, but now adding something of a threat, as if the emperor demanded this. ^B When, therefore, my father also received a letter from him, fearing nothing, and without making any delay (let us consider, I pray, from the things he replied, what great freedom of speech he possessed, and with what spirit it was conjoined): "We," he says, "O most powerful governor, have one censor and King of all things that are done, Who is now being fought against. He will examine this present ordination, which we have performed in a manner agreeable to the law and pleasing to Him. To use violence against us in some other matter, if you are so minded, you may easily do; but this no one will ever take from us: that we defend what has been done as having been done rightly and justly; unless, perhaps, ^C you should also consider this—" ^D This letter even he who received it admired, even if for a short while he was angered, as many of those who were well acquainted with his affairs reported; this also stayed the impulse of the emperor, and delivered the city from danger, nor would I add lightly that it also delivered us from shame. Such was the deed of this man of a small city, and of the throne.

^A Annon is it not far better to hold a position of leadership in this way, than to declaim from more lofty thrones, and to be superior in deeds rather than in names?

35 XXXV. Now, as to that which is last in the order of his recorded deeds, but first and greatest in its power and importance, who is so remote from our world as to be ignorant? The same city was again laboring under sedition for the same reason—namely, because he to whom violence had been rightly offered had very quickly finished his life and departed to God, for whom he had fought bravely and strenuously in the persecutions. And the sedition was as much more absurd as it was more hot and fervent. For it was not unknown who excelled; just as the sun is recognizable among the stars, so it was also most conspicuous to all the rest, and especially to the chosen and purest part of the people—that is, both those who stand around the altar and our own Nazarites, to whom alone, or at any rate most especially, elections of this kind ought to be entrusted (for thus the Churches would never be in a bad state) ^B and not to those who are powerful in wealth and influence, or to the impulse and rashness of the mob, and even to the most vile and contemptible of the common people. But now, I am in danger of thinking that public governments are ordered and disciplined better than our own, to which the divine grace is attributed by the voice of all, and I believe that affairs of this kind are governed better by fear than by reason. For if it were not so, who of sound mind, having left thee, O divine and sacred head, could have turned to another—having left thee, I say, who art depicted in the hands of the Lord, who knowest not the yoke of marriage, who possessest nothing, who art almost devoid of flesh and blood, who in the praise of letters and in eloquence holdest the second place after the Word, wise among philosophers, ^C sublime to the world even while among the worldly, my companion and fellow-worker, the sharer of my soul, and, to say something more daring, my partner in life and education? I could wish that this discourse had freedom, describing thee before others, and that these things were not being weighed while thou art present, where I am forced to diminish the greater part of thy praises, lest I incur the suspicion of flattery. But, that I may return to the discourse I have begun, the Spirit ^D knew his own—for how, indeed, could He not?—but envy stood in the way; as for what was being said, I am ashamed to mention it; would that it were not even possible to hear others speaking and carefully mocking our affairs. This, then, like the stones in the middle of a river, let us pass over, honoring with silence things deserving of oblivion; let us ourselves proceed to the following parts of the discourse.

Turning to the Great Basil, he addresses him saying:

^A XXXVI. This spiritual man knew accurately the things of the Spirit; and for this reason he thought that one ought not to harbor any base sentiment, nor to contend based on partisan factions [(90)] and preconceived opinions, attributing more to grace than to God; but to look to one thing alone, the benefit of the Churches and the common salvation. For this reason he used to write, to admonish, and to harmonize the people, the priests [(91)], and the others, as many as belonged to the sanctuary; he bore witness, he cast his vote [(92)], and he ordained even when not present; he gave to his hoary age the power to hold authority over strangers as if they were his own people. And finally, when the canonical [(93)] ordination for him had to take place, since one was lacking [(94)] in the number of those proclaiming, he tore himself from his couch, though broken by old age and disease [(95)], and rushed to the city with youthful vigor; or rather, he was carried, his body being like a corpse and barely breathing, convinced that that zeal would be a fine shroud for him, even if he had to suffer some misfortune. And here too a sign occurred that is not to be disbelieved: he is strengthened by the effort, he rejuvenates in his eagerness, he manages affairs, he marshals the battle, he places him on the throne [(96)], and he is escorted back, no longer using a bier as a coffin, but as a divine ark. Moreover, the long-suffering I just finished praising, he demonstrated even more fully here. For since his colleagues, who could not bear the shame of their defeat and the authority and power that the old man possessed in all matters, were on that account ill-disposed toward him and reviling him [(97)], he was able—by the patience he maintained—to rise above even these, having found his greatest ally in gentleness, and in the refusal to revile back when reviled. For what would it be so terrible if, having conquered in the situation, he allowed himself to be conquered in speech? Therefore, he captured them too with his long-suffering—having adopted time itself as an ally to his purpose—to such an extent that they excused themselves, fell at his feet, and turned their indignation into wonder. They were ashamed of their previous actions, and they used him as patriarch, legislator, and judge, having cast away their hatred. ^{B C D}

XXXVII. The same zeal pertains to his contest against the heretics.

when they embarked upon an expedition against us together with the imperial impiety, as if they would both overthrow us and add us to the others who were already almost all enslaved. Not even here did he contribute a small part to us, both of his own accord and perhaps through us, whom he sent against them as against the fiercest wild beasts, not as cowardly or base puppies, but training us for piety. In both cases I blame ^B—and do not be vexed with me for this frankness; for I will give vent to my sorrow, even if this speech be heavy and burdensome—that you, having delivered me—carrying this burdensome and insidious market of souls, through the fair name of the priesthood, although I have been bearing the evils of this life with an unequal mind, and longing for solitude more than I know anyone else of our time does, and striving with all my might to avoid as quickly as I could this common storm and dust, and to take refuge in a safe place—have thus delivered me into this position. From which, evils have already happened to me, and others are impending. For whoever has already suffered something, even he who is in some way skeptical about the future, yet if reason suggests better things, it persuades him of something else.

XXXVIII. And indeed I should not pass over this praise of his as well. He was, in all matters, a ^C man of fortitude and superior to his bodily covering; but lastly, suffering from a disease which made its assault together with old age, and that a long-lasting and dangerous one, he had that which was common with other men, namely that he was ill; but this was not common, but very peculiar and consistent with his other miracles. For when he was never without being pressed by pain, and that very often throughout the day, and sometimes even the hour, he would gain strength from the liturgy alone; and the affliction would withdraw, as if banished by a decree. Having lived almost a hundred years—that is, beyond the Davidic boundaries of our time—and having spent forty-five of these in the ^D priesthood, which is almost the measure of a human life, he at last closed his life in a good old age. And how? Amidst the words and posture of prayer, leaving behind no trace of vice, but very many monuments of virtue. Wherefore his veneration is greater than the human condition would seem to bear, established in the tongues and minds of all; nor is it easy to find one who, when remembering him, does not also embrace his image, acting as the Scripture says, placing a hand upon his mouth.

^A Such was his life, and such was the completion and perfection of his life.

XXXIX. Since, however, it was necessary that a monument to his greatness of soul ^B should also be left to posterity, what else could be more appropriate than this temple, which he erected both to God and to us, using only a little from the people, while contributing the greater part from his own resources? It is a work truly worthy of more than silence, one that in its magnitude is vast, and in its beauty surpasses almost everything else. For it meets itself in eight equilateral straight lines, and with the elegance of columns and double-tiered porticoes—not yielding in their beauty to nature itself—it rises to a lofty summit, while being graced with statues; it is illuminated from above by the heavens and radiates upon the eyes of beholders with abundant fountains of light, so that it is truly a dwelling-place of light. Furthermore, it is encircled by equigular ^C ambulatories of most splendid material, which encompass a vast space in the center, and it shines forth with the grace of gates and vestibules, receiving those who approach from afar. Not yet do I speak of the exterior adornment, of the beauty and size of the squared stone, joined with such precision that it rivals the marmoreal—both in the bases and capitals by which the corners are intercepted—and the native stone, which in no respect yields to the foreign. Not yet do I speak of the varied and manifold bands, stretching and interwoven from the foundation to the summit, which strike the spectator with awe, restricting his gaze. How could speech, in so few words, represent a project of such time, of such labor, and of such effort? Or will it suffice to say that, while many works adorn other cities, both private and public, this alone had the power to make us renowned among many? And such is the state of the temple. ^D Since, however, a priest was also needed, he bestowed this also from his own house; whether he is worthy of the temple, I cannot say, but he bestowed him nonetheless. And since sacrifices were also needed, he added these as well: the sufferings of his son and his endurance in calamities, so that God might have from him a rational whole burnt offering, a spiritual victim correctly offered in place of the legal sacrifice.

XL. What say you, O father? Are these things sufficient, and have you received the rewards for the labors which, upon my words,

^A you endured? Do you offer this as a farewell gift, or as a funeral oration, the old custom; and do you here too set a limit to it, avoiding satiety, so that it may be proportionate? Or do you seek some further addition? You define it, I know; for it is sufficient. But allow me to add this: make known to us where you are in glory, and the light that surrounds you, and your spouse of a short time hence, and the children whom you buried before you 22; and receive me into the same tabernacles, or if not that, at least into a place where I shall suffer little in this life; and before the tabernacles, by this sweet stone 23 which you set up for us both, honoring here also your priest and namesake; and forgive the omission of what was passed over in the sermon, and the acceptance of what was assumed for your sake. And may you guide us safely 25, especially the whole flock and all the high priests of whom you were called father, and especially him who was forced by you, and tyrannized both paternally and ^B spiritually, so that I may not reproach you for everything regarding that tyranny.

XLI. But what do you think, O judge of my words and movements? If these things have been spoken with sufficient convenience and abundance, and as your desire demanded, confirm this with your vote, and we shall accept it. For truly your vote is the vote of God. But if we have fallen far short of his glory and your expectation, the ally is at hand to bring help. Send forth your voice upon his praises, like timely rain 28; for indeed he holds you bound and obligated by the greatest ties, both as pastor to pastor, and as father to son, at least so far as grace is concerned. But what is to be wondered at, if he who thundered to the world through you, might himself also enjoy something of your voice? What remains now? It remains that, with the spiritual Sarah, the spouse ^C of our great father Abraham, and his equal in time, we should philosophize about the funeral rites 30.

XLII. The nature of God and of men 31 is not the same; or rather, to speak in general, [the nature] of the heavenly and the earthly is not. For among them, that which is constant and immortal exists, both being itself, and whatever pertains to that being; for firm things are of the firm. But how do our affairs stand?

They flow and are corrupted, and take one change after another. For life and death, things which are so called, though they seem to differ greatly from each other, yet in a way pass into one another and replace each other. For the one, beginning from corruption, our mother, and proceeding through that corruption—which is the perpetual passing away of that which is present—ends in corruption, that is, in the termination of this life; but the other, which releases us from the evils here, and often translates us to the life above, I do not know if it could properly be called death, possessing the fearful quality more in name than in reality. And we seem to be affected in a way that is absurd and preposterous, fearing things that are not at all dreadful, while embracing as more desirable things that should be feared. There is one life—to look toward [true] Life. There is one death—sin; for it is the destruction of the soul. As for other things, over which some are puffed up, they are but the vision of dreams mocking the realities, and deceptive phantasms of the soul. ^B If we are of this mind, O mother, we shall neither be puffed up by life, nor overly grieved by death. What grievous thing, then, have we suffered, if we have departed from hence to the true Life? If we are freed from turnings, and dizziness, and satiety, and that shameful taxation, shall we not, together with those who stand and do not flow, be small lights dancing about the great Light?

XLIII.

...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,...