In Praise of His Sister Gorgonia

bearing, enduring all things ^A out of love and hope for Him; giving thanks for all things, for things on the right as well as the left, I say, for pleasant things and for painful, since the Word knows that these too are very often weapons of salvation, and committing our own souls to Him, as well as the souls of those who, as if on a common journey, have arrived earlier at the inn.

Having performed this duty, we shall put an end to our speech, and you to your tears—you who are already hastening to the tomb, that mournful and lasting gift which Caesarius has from you, prepared indeed for parents and old age in due season, but bestowed upon a son and youth contrary to expectation; yet it is not unreasonable in the sight of Him who directs our affairs. O Lord and Maker of all, and especially of this creature of Thine! O God of Thy men, and Father and Governor! O Arbiter of life and death! O Guardian ^B and Benefactor of our souls! Thou who makest all things, and transformest them in due [season] by the Artificer Word, and as Thou Thyself knowest by the depth of Thy wisdom and governance: now, receive Caesarius, the first-fruits of our departure; and if the last born is first, we yield to Thy reasons by which all things are governed; yet receive us too later in a convenient time, having moderated our life in the flesh for as long as it is profitable; and receive us prepared by the fear of Thee, and not troubled, nor turning our backs in the final day, and being dragged away from here by force—which is the affliction of souls that are lovers of the world and lovers of the flesh—but [receiving us] eagerly departing for that life ^C which is from above, long-enduring and blessed, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.

NOTICE REGARDING ORATION VIII

I. Just as he paid the funeral tribute to his brother Caesarius, so too did Gregory pay it to his sister Gorgonia. However, we cannot define with certainty in what year Gorgonia exchanged this earthly life for the eternal one. It is certain, however, from the words of the Theologian himself, that she survived Caesarius. For thus he speaks (n. 23): "I would also have you accept our oration to compensate for the many and exceeding many funeral gifts which we paid to Caesarius before you, and to you after him." Moreover, how long Gorgonia survived is also uncertain. One thing may be affirmed: that she preceded both parents, who departed from the living in the year [of our Lord] or in the year just elapsed. Certainly Gregory, "in his first poem" (v. 108 et seq.), mourns that both his siblings were taken away by death, and testifies that he was left "alone of the children" to his parents. From the same Gregory it is clear (22), that Caesarius and

Gorgonia died in the "flowering of her age"; yet she did not die without children, nay, not even without grandchildren, all of whom—together with her husband—she offered to God before her death, having purified them through baptism (n. 8); she herself, however, had been initiated into this sacrament only recently, not long before. This, however, is not to be understood as though it were believed that she was baptized during the very illness that took her away. For when she was already laboring under a grave bodily sickness (n. 18), having despaired of all other human aids, she fled to the physician of all mortals, and having seized the dead of night, she fell before the altar with faith; and when she had mingled her tears with whatever she had gathered of the antitypes of the precious Body and Blood (which it was not even permitted for those not yet baptized to behold with their eyes, much less to touch with their hands), she departed, immediately freed from her sickness by this remedy.

II. Gorgonia had a husband who, if Elias is to be believed, was born at Iconium and was a man ^A worthy of such a wife (n. 20). Thus, in one word, Gregory completes his eulogy, he who had earlier (n. 8) called him "not a harsh master to his wife, but a good fellow-servant." His name is entirely unknown, unless you wish him to be Meletius, who is called by that name in Gregory’s testament. For we can by no means assent to Baronius (23), by whom Gorgonia’s husband is said to be Vitalianus, of whom such different things are read in Gregory's letters and poems. Whoever he may have been, however, Gorgonia bore from him twin sons and three daughters. The pair of sons were "consecrated to God (n. 11)," and, as Elias testifies, both were raised to the height of the episcopacy. The names of these too are unknown. Baronius names them Peter and Phocas. There were also three daughters of Gorgonia: Alypiana, Eugenia, and Nonna, all of whom are mentioned in Gregory's testament. Alypiana married Nicobulus; from whom were born Nicobulus the younger, and the virgin Alypiana.

III. Gorgonia lived at Iconium, the fatherland of her husband, where she fell asleep in the Lord "full of days (n. 21)." For we do not learn that she died at Nazianzus from Gregory himself, who calls Gorgonia a "pastor" or bishop, a "spiritual father," nay, a "fellow-soldier in piety" and a "master (n. 11)." Elias thinks these words of Gregory, "O pastor of that holy sheep (n. 16)!" are directed to Gregory the father. But the same Elias later confesses that by "spiritual father" the prelate of Iconium is to be understood. ^B But it is manifestly false what he adds, that that prelate of Iconium was Amphilochius: since that Amphilochius was not raised to the see of Iconium until the year 373; and therefore Gorgonia is to be called a "sheep" and "daughter" not of Amphilochius, but of Faustinus, who was bishop of Iconium when she died there.

IV. At what time and in what place this oration was delivered is uncertain. A certain scholiast writes that it was "spoken at Arianzo, a town of Cappadocia, from whence they were sprung, and where they lie: *'Eppéðŋ ἐν Ἀριανζῷ τῆς Καππαδόκων ἐπαρχίας, ἀφ᾽ ἧς ὡρμῶντο δὴ, καὶ κεῖνται.*" But that is found nowhere. Be that as it may, this most pious brother pursues the outstanding gifts of his most pious sister, and her virtue beyond that of a woman, with such an eloquent oration that he stirs [the audience] to imitation and admiration at once. A woman clearly worthy to be both an honor and an example to the faithful. And in truth, in the Roman Martyrology, the feast day of Gorgonia is read to be assigned to the fifth of the Ides of December. Baronius praises the Greeks there, who maintain the same thing. In the Menaea, however, nothing of the sort appears for this day, just as it appears neither in Ughelli nor in Canisius. But Nicephorus in his History (24) writes this: «Πάντες δὲ οὗτοι τῷ τῆς πολιτείας σεμνῷ τῆς ἁγιωσύνης κατηξιώθησαν, ὥσπερ δῆτα καὶ Γρηγορίου Καισάρειος, καὶ ἡ Γοργονία.» "And all these," namely Basil and his brothers, "were ^C enrolled among the number of the saints on account of the integrity of their lives; as indeed were also the brother of Gregory, Caesarius, and his sister Gorgonia."

ORATION VIII

Funeral oration in praise of his sister Gorgonia

I. Praising a sister, I shall surely wonder at what is familiar; not, however, that because it is familiar, it is therefore false; but because it is true, it is therefore praiseworthy; and true, not only because it is just, but also because it is known. And to speak at the request of favor is not permitted, even if we were to wish it; but there stands in the middle, like some skilled judge, the hearer of the discourse and the truth, who is just, neither praising that which is beyond desert, nor demanding that which is according to desert. Wherefore I do not fear that fear, lest I might exceed the truth, but because it is domestic, it is not therefore false, but because it is true, it is therefore laudable; and true not only because it is just, but also because it is known. Nor indeed is it permitted to speak for favor, even if we might desire it, for the auditor, as a certain skilled arbiter, stands between the discourse and the truth, so that, just as he disapproves of unmerited praises, so too does he demand those that are merited, if only he be upright and just. Wherefore I do not fear this, lest I ^D speak beyond [i/n] what is artful.

^A I shall not overstep the bounds of truth, but on the contrary, let us not fall short of the truth, and by wandering far from her worth, diminish the glory through our praises; since it is difficult to match both the actions and the words to the goodness of the subject. Therefore, let nothing alien be praised, which would be incongruous; nor let that which is one’s own be disparaged, if it is noble; lest it be a gain to the former to be something alien, while to the latter, kinship becomes a detriment. For in both ways, the law of justice would be harmed—if those were praised and these were passed over in silence. But using truth as our boundary and canon, and looking solely to her, and considering nothing else of those things which the common herd and venal souls are wont to do, we shall thus both praise and remain silent [about those things] which merit either praise or silence.

^B II. But it would be most absurd of all if, while we consider it impious to defraud our kin in any matter, or to revile or accuse them, or in any way to harm them, whether in great things or in small—nay, even to consider it the greatest of all crimes to transgress against those who are most closely related in lineage—we nevertheless believe we are doing something just when we defraud them of discourse (which is owed most of all to good men, and by which we might render their memory immortal); or when we take more account of the wicked, who accuse us of speaking for favor, than of the righteous, who demand their merited praises. And certainly, since the fact that their virtue has not been fully examined or attested does not deter us from praising outsiders (although it would be much fairer [to praise those we know]), friendship and the fear of incurring the envy of the many shall not prevent us from praising those we know, especially those who have completed the final day of their life, and from whom it is now far too late to seek favor; for they, as they have left all other things behind, have likewise left behind their praisers and detractors. ^C

III. Since, however, we have spoken sufficiently in our own defense regarding these matters, and have demonstrated that this discourse was necessarily instituted by us, come, let us now proceed to the praises themselves, [while] contemning the beauty and elegance of language (for she whom we praise was also not at all adorned and polished, and she counted the neglect of such ornament to be [true] beauty), discharging this due duty of piety like some much-needed debt, and at the same time educating the many to the zeal and imitation of the same virtue, since this is our aim in every word and deed: to render perfect those who have been entrusted to our faith. Let someone else, then, praise the homeland and lineage of the departed, faithfully observing the laws of encomia; he will certainly not lack many fine words, if he wishes to adorn her even to those outside, just as though with honorable form and

gems, and ornaments originating from art and hand—which reveal a deformed person by the very act of applying them, but, by adding no increment of beauty to beautiful things, are found to be surpassed by them. I, however, having submitted thus far to the law that is observed in these matters, as much as to make mention of our common parents (for it is not right to pass over such good parents and teachers), shall turn my discourse to her as quickly as possible, and will not frustrate the desire of those who seek the narrative of her life. ^B

IV. Who, then, does not know our new Abraham and the Sarah of our own day? I mean Gregory and Nonna, his wife (for it is good not even to pass by their names, as they are an exhortation to virtue), he who was justified by faith, and she who lived with a faithful man; he who became clearly the father of many nations, and she who travailed spiritually; he who fled the servitude of his ancestral gods, and she who was both daughter and mother of free men; he who went forth from his kin and his house for the sake of the land of promise, and she who was the cause of this departure (for this, if I may be so bold, she did only for his sake, even surpassing Sarah); he who dwelt as a stranger well, and she who readily accompanied him in his sojourn; he who attached himself to the Lord, and she who both called and considered her own husband lord, and was in part justified because of this; whose promise, and whose Isaac, as far as pertained to them, and whose gift it was. ^C

V. And as for the wife, that good shepherd (having prayed and led her), and from her he received the example of how to pasture well; but of the husband, that he had fled idols with a sincere heart, and later put demons to flight; and of the wife, that she would never even share salt with the worshippers of idols: they were equals in this honor, and concordant, and of one mind, and their union of virtue and of intimacy with God was no less than their union of flesh. Being equal in length of life and in gray hair, equal also in prudence and in splendor, they vied with one another and surpassed all the rest; held only a little by the flesh, but having already transported themselves in spirit even before their separation. Theirs is not the world, and theirs is the world: the former is despised, the latter is preferred; theirs it is to slip from riches, and theirs to grow rich through a noble ^D commerce; the former they spurned in this world, while the latter they received in exchange from above; and theirs was a short span of this life—

and how small a share of it piety has left behind, while that life, for the sake of which they were worn out with labors, is great and long-lasting. I will add one more thing to what I have said concerning them; namely, that they were beautifully and justly divided between the two sexes, the one as a pattern for men, the other for women, and not only a pattern, but an example of virtue.

VI. From these, Gorgonia received both her life and her glory; from these, the seeds of piety; from these, also, the fact that she lived honestly, and that she departed joyful and with better hopes. These things are indeed excellent, and of such a kind as are not easily possessed by the many who greatly pride themselves on the name of nobility and wear puffed-up spirits because of the splendor of their ancestors. ^B But if one must discourse more wisely and sublimely about her, Gorgonia’s fatherland was the heavenly Jerusalem, that city, I say, which is not seen by the eyes, but is understood by soul and mind; in which we have been enrolled as citizens, and toward which we hasten; whose citizen is Christ, and whose fellow-citizens are the festal assembly and Church of the firstborn who are written in heaven (Heb. XII, 22-23), and who celebrate holy days around the great Founder of the city through the contemplation of glory, and lead an eternal dance. And nobility is the preservation of the divine image and the imitation of the Archetype, which reason and virtue effect, and a pure desire, ever more and more fashioning according to God those who are truly eager for heavenly things, and finally having knowledge of from whom, and who we are, and for what cause we were made.

VII. Such is my opinion concerning these matters. ^C And for this reason, I know and proclaim her soul to be nobler than all those from the rising of the sun (Job I, 3), using a canon and rule of nobility and ignobility that is better than that of the many; and not characterizing these things by blood, but by manner of life; nor judging those who are praised or blamed according to clans, but individually and one by one. And because my discourse is before those by whom her virtues are known and clearly perceived, let one person contribute one thing, and another something else, and let him assist the discourse. For it is not possible that one person, however powerful in ears and mind, should embrace everything.

ORATION VIII. IN PRAISE OF HIS SISTER GORGONIA

^A VIII. She so excelled in the praise of modesty, and so surpassed all the women of her own time, not to mention those of old whose fame for modesty is so great, that whereas life is divided for everyone into these two states, namely marriage and celibacy—wherein the latter is indeed higher and more divine, but more laborious and perilous, while the former is more humble but safer—she, having avoided the unpleasantness of both, chose whatever was most beautiful in each and joined them into one. She took the loftiness of the one and the security of the other; she was modest without pride, mingling the good of celibacy with matrimony, and showing that neither of these two things binds us entirely to God or to the world, nor severs us from Him. Thus, it is not that the one is by its own nature something to be shunned while the other is in every respect to be praised and embraced; rather, it is the mind that beautifully governs and regulates both marriage and virginity, and these, like some raw material, are fashioned and worked toward virtue by the artisan Word. For she was not joined to the flesh and therefore separated from the Spirit, nor, because she had a man as her head, did she therefore ignore the primary Head; but having ministered a little to the world and nature, and as much as the law of the flesh willed—or rather, He who prescribed this law to the flesh—she consecrated her whole self to God. ^B And what is most beautiful and honorable, she also drew her husband to herself, and obtained not a troublesome lord, but a good fellow-servant. Nor was this all; she also made the fruit of the body—that is, children and children’s children—a fruit of the Spirit, purifying to God the whole lineage and whole household just as if it were a single soul, and making marriage commendable through her pleasing life within it and the goodly fruitfulness resulting from it. While she lived, she set herself as an exemplar of every virtue before her children; and after she was called away, she left behind for her house her will as a silent exhortation.

^C IX. For the divine Solomon, in his pedagogical wisdom—I mean in the Proverbs ^D (Prov. xxxi, seqq.)—praises the woman who remains at home and loves her husband, and he opposes her to the woman who wanders outside, is wanton and infamous, and who ensnares precious souls with harlot-like gestures and names. He lauds her who conducts herself virtuously within, who executes the duties of a woman with a manly spirit, who always sets her hands to the spindle, and prepares double garments for her husband; who buys a field at the right time, who diligently provides food for her servants, who receives friends at a full table, and who performs all the other things that he proclaimed of the honest and industrious matron. I...

however, if I were to praise my sister from these things, would be doing the same as if I were to praise a statue from its shadow, or a lion from its claws, neglecting greater and more perfect things. Who was ever more worthy to be seen? Yet who was seen less, inasmuch as she kept herself inaccessible to the gaze of men? Who knew better the measure of somberness and cheerfulness, so that neither did her somberness appear inhuman, nor her softness lascivious, but rather the former earned the praise of prudence, and the latter that of gentleness, and this was as it were the norm of modesty, being joined and tempered with humanity and greatness of soul? Hear, O women, you who ^B labor under an excessive desire for ostentation and sloth, and who despise the veil of shame. Who checked her eyes in such a way? Who so mocked laughter, that even to have smiled slightly seemed to her almost too much? Who placed doors upon her ears more effectively? Or who, conversely, opened them more to the divine word, or rather, who appointed the mind as leader of the tongue to recount the justifications of God? Who so prescribed order for her lips?

X. Would you like me to tell you this also from her praises; that she herself esteemed such things as nothing, just as do all who are truly modest and of decent character; but it has come about through the vice of those who are led by an excessive desire for adornment and elegance, and because they are not cleansed by the discourse of those who teach abstinence from these things, that this seems something great and renowned. No gold, worked by art to extraordinary beauty, adorned her; no yellow hair, at once transparent and shimmering, no knots of hair and impostures, turning a precious head into a stage with the utmost infamy; no magnificence of flowing and transparent clothing; no splendors of stones and graces, coloring the nearby air and shedding light around her form; no arts and deceits of painters ^C and the basely and cheaply bought beauty, and the earthly shaper working to the contrary, and masking the figment of God with insidious colors, and bringing shame through an honor, and proposing the divine form as a harlot’s idol to wanton eyes, so that the adulterated beauty might steal away the natural image, which is preserved for God and the future age. But although she knew many and various external adornments of women, yet she [judged] none more precious than her own character and the brilliance laid up within. One redness was pleasing to her, that of modesty; one whiteness, that from self-restraint. And the writings ^D

the paintings, and the living portraits, and the flowing beauty of form, she left to those on the stage and in the crossroads, and to those for whom it is a shame and a disgrace to feel shame.

^B XI. And these things are indeed such as they are. But there is no one who could attain in words to her prudence and piety, nor could many examples be found, except for those of her parents, both according to the flesh and according to the spirit, looking only to whom, and in no way inferior to them in virtue, yet she yielded to them in this one respect most willingly, because she had received this good from them, acknowledging and confessing them to be the root of her own illumination. For what was more acute than that mind of hers, which not only those who belonged to her by birth, ^C nor those of the same people and of the same sheepfold, but even all those in the neighborhood acknowledged as a common counselor, making her counsels and exhortations an inviolable law? And what was more prudent than her words? What more sensible than her silence? But since I have mentioned silence, I will add that which was most proper to her, and most becoming for women, and most useful for the present time. Who knew divine things better, both from the divine oracles and from her own intelligence and sagacity? And who, on the other hand, spoke less, containing herself within the feminine bounds of piety? Now, as befitted a woman who had truly set her mind to practice piety, and in which alone it is noble not to know satiety, who adorned temples with so many offerings, both others and this one, which I know not if it will be adorned after her? Or rather, who so presented herself as a living temple to God? And who honored priests so much, and especially him whom she had as her fellow-warrior and teacher of piety, ^D I mean him whose good seeds remain, and the pair of children consecrated to God?

XII. And who set open her home more to those who live according to God, a beautiful reception, and one that makes rich? And what is more, who welcomed them so with modesty and with strides pleasing to God? And furthermore, who showed a mind more unshaken in calamities? Who a soul more sympathetic to those who were suffering? Who a hand more generous to those in need?

^A Indeed, I would not hesitate to boast of her using the words of Job: "Her door was open to every comer, and no stranger remained outside." She was an eye to the blind, a foot to the lame, and a mother to the fatherless. And as to her humanity and mercy toward widows, what greater thing is needed to be said than that she drew from this the fruit that she was nicknamed "widow" by no one? Her house was a place of common hospitality for those of her kin laboring in want. Her wealth was no less common to all the poor than each person’s own resources were to them. "He dispersed, he gave to the poor," and because of the firmness and supreme truth of the divine promise, she stored up much in heavenly granaries; and by doing good to many, she often welcomed Christ himself. And what is most distinguished, she did not study so much to seem good as to be so in truth; nay, rather, in secret she cultivated her piety brilliantly before Him who sees things hidden. She snatched everything from the prince of this world; she transferred everything into those safe granaries. She left nothing to the earth except her body. She exchanged all things for the hopes of the beyond; she left her children one wealth: her own example and the pursuit of the same praises. ^B XIII. And indeed, her greatness of soul was not merely so great and so incredible, while she surrendered her body to delights and the unbridled pleasures of the belly—to that rabid, I say, and tearing dog—as if, forsooth, trusting in her own liberality and beneficence, just as most people are accustomed to do, who redeem their luxury and delights by mercy toward the poor, and do not heal evil with good, but receive evil in exchange for good; or perhaps she subdued the dust ^C with fastings, but left the remedy of the pallet—that is, sleeping on the ground—to another; or perhaps she devised this as a support for the soul, but she was more moderate in sleep than anyone else; or perhaps she imposed this law upon herself as if she were devoid of a body, yet while others passed the night standing upright—a struggle which is especially that of philosophical men—she bowed herself to the earth; or perhaps in this matter she surpassed not only women, but even the strongest men in greatness of soul, while [she occupied herself] with a prudent tone of psalmody, or with the reading and explanation of the divine oracles, or with timely remembrance, or with the bending of the knees which had become calloused ^D from labor and, as it were, clung to the ground, or with tears washing away the stains of the soul in a contrite heart and a spirit of humility, or with prayer placing her on high, and with a mind unswerving and uplifted; of all these things, or of which of these is there any man or woman who could boast to have surpassed her? But these are great things indeed to say, and it is true that she set her zeal…

^A on them; for one she found, and another she conquered. And if in any one of these she had an equal, yet because she gathered all things into one, she mastered them all. Thus she brought all things to perfection, as no other, even in a moderate degree; thus she reached the summit of each, so that even one alone would have sufficed in place of all, and that one alone.

XIV. O squalid body, and garment blooming with virtue alone! O soul, keeping the body almost without food, as if it were immaterial! Or, to speak more correctly, O body, even before the release, forced to die, so that the soul might obtain freedom and not be hindered by the senses! O sleepless nights, and psalmody, and station extended from day to day! O David, how you sang not too lengthily for pious souls alone! O tender limbs prostrate on the ground, and exasperating themselves contrary to nature! ^B O fountains of tears, which were sown in affliction, so that they might reap in exultation! O nocturnal cry piercing the clouds and reaching to God! O fervor of spirit, for the desire of prayer, fearing neither nocturnal dogs, nor cold, nor rains, nor thunders, nor hail, nor darkness! O feminine nature, which for the sake of the common struggle of salvation has surpassed the male sex, and has made it manifest that male and female is a distinction of the body, not of the soul! O purity after the bath, and the soul as the bride of Christ in the pure bridal chamber of the body! O bitter taste, ^C and Eve, the mother both of our race and of sin, and the deceitful serpent, and death, conquered by her continence! O the emptying of Christ, and the form of a servant, and the passions, honored by her mortification!

XV. O! how shall I either enumerate all that was hers, or by omitting the greater part, do a disservice to those who are ignorant of it? But it would be well for me now to add the rewards of piety also; for it seems to me that you, who know her life well, have long been desiring and seeking in my discourse, not only the present blessings, and those for which she now exults there—which exceed the capacity of human ears, mind, and eyes—but also those which that just rewarder ^D bestowed upon her in this life; for he does this often for the edification of the unbelievers, confirming great things by small, and by visible things

^A that which is invisible. But I will speak of some things that are known to everyone, and of other things that are hidden from the many; and this too because of her philosophy, that she did not pride herself in her gifts. You know of those mules driven by madness, and the seizing of the carriage, and that deplorable overturn, and the terrible dragging, and the evil fractures, and the scandal that arose from this for those alien to the faith—that the righteous should be delivered up in such a way—and the swift correction of that unbelief. For when she was crushed and broken in all her bones and limbs, both those that were visible and those hidden from view, she would not endure any physician other than Him who had delivered her up; at once feeling shame before the eyes and hands of men (for she preserved her modesty and sense of decorum even in the midst of her very pains), and at once seeking her defense from Him who had permitted her to suffer these things, and she obtained salvation from no other than Him. Through this it came to pass that some were not so much struck by this calamity as they were ^B stunned by the unexpected miracle of her restored health, and for this reason this tragedy seemed to have occurred so that she might derive glory and splendor from her calamities; for while she was indeed affected by pain as a human being, yet she was healed more surpassingly than the human condition would seem to allow, and she afforded to those who came after a narration that served as a supreme argument for faith in afflictions and for constancy in grave and dangerous matters, and a greater demonstration of God’s kindness toward such people. For to that which was well said concerning the righteous man: *When he falls, he shall not be dashed to pieces* (Ps. XXXVI, 24), something more novel was added: Even if he be dashed to pieces, he shall most quickly be restored and shall be glorified. For if she suffered beyond what was expected, yet she also returned to herself beyond what was expected, so that the ailment was almost stolen away by the health, and the healing was even more manifest than the wound had been.

XVI. O laudable and admirable calamity! O passion more sublime than immunity from suffering! O how these words, *He shall strike and bind up, and he shall heal, and on the third day he shall raise up* (Ose. VI, 2), even though they tended toward something higher and more mystical—as indeed they did tend—nevertheless beautifully befit the calamity of this woman! But this is known to everyone, even to those far removed from us; for the report of this miracle has reached everyone, and this story, along with the other admirable works and powers of God, is upon everyone's tongue and in everyone's ears. But as to that which even now is unknown and hidden from the many because of the philosophy I mentioned, and because of the absence of pride and vanity in her piety, do you wish me now to bring it forth, ^C O most excellent and perfect of shepherds, O you who are the shepherd of that sacred sheep?

And do you now consent to this? Since we alone were entrusted with the mystery, and we are each other's witnesses ^A to the miracle, shall we keep the faith given to the departed any longer? But it seems to me that just as there was a time for silence then, so now there is a time for speaking out, not only for the glory of God, but also for the consolation of those who are oppressed by afflictions.

XVII. She was seized by an adverse state of body, and suffered gravely, and the disease was of an unusual and strange kind: a sudden inflammation, to be sure, of the whole body, and a kind of boiling up, and a heat of the blood, and then its coagulation, and numbness, and an incredible pallor, and a paralysis of the mind and limbs; and this did not occur at long ^B intervals, but was sometimes even very frequent and assiduous. And this evil was not thought to be human, and neither were the arts of physicians, who examined the suffering with great diligence—both each one for himself and together with one another—adequate to repel the pain; nor were the tears of her parents, which had often availed much, nor public prayers and suppliant orisons, which the whole people made as if for their own salvation. For they were all of such a mind that they considered her salvation to be their own, just as, conversely, they considered her sickness to be a common disease and calamity.

XVIII. What then does that great soul, worthy of the greatest things, do, and what medicine does she apply to her pain? For here now the secret lies. Having despaired of all other aids, she flees to the physician of all mortals, and having seized the dead of night, ^C when the disease had remitted somewhat, she falls before the altar with faith, and calling upon Him who is honored upon it with a great cry, and invoking Him by all names, and reminding Him of all that He had ever done miraculously (for she was wise in both ancient and new histories), she is finally carried away by a pious and noble shamelessness. She imitates the woman who had staunched the flow of blood with the fringe of Christ's garment. For what does she do? Having placed her head upon the altar ^D with the same cry, and with tears that were rich, just as someone once watered the feet of Christ, and threatening that she would not let go before she obtained health—then, having anointed her whole body with this medicine of hers, and mingling with her tears whatever she had anywhere stored up of the antitypes of the precious body or blood.

(O the miracle!) she departed straightway, having perceived her salvation. She was light in body, soul, and mind, having received as the reward of her hope that which she had hoped for, and having by the vigor of her soul recovered that of her body. These things are great, indeed, but they are not false. Believe them all of you, both sick and healthy: that you who are sick may have health, and you who are healthy may preserve it. And that this narrative is not a boast, it is evident from the fact that I concealed it while she was alive, and have only now revealed it; and even now I would not have published it, know well, if a certain fear had not seized me, of hiding so great a miracle from both the faithful and the unbelievers, and from those who are now and those who are to come. ^B

XIX. Such, then, was her life. We have passed over many other things, both for the sake of the proportion of the discourse and so that we might not seem to be insatiably greedy in our praise; though we would perhaps be doing an injury to her holy and celebrated death, if we did not also commemorate her praises; especially since she herself so desired and required it. I will commemorate them, however, as briefly as possible. She desired to be dissolved (for she had great boldness toward Him by whom she was called), and to be with Christ, which she preferred to all the things of earth. And no one of those who are very prone to love, and can with difficulty be restrained, so loves the body as she, having shaken off these fetters and overcome this mire with which we live, longed to be purely united with that Fair One, and to embrace Him wholly whom she loved, and I will add, by whom she was loved, ^C by whose tiny rays we are now illuminated, and from whom, as far as He can be known, we are separated. Nor is she defrauded of so sublime and divine a desire; and what is greater than this, she anticipates that good through foreknowledge and much vigil. This is followed by a sleep most sweet, and a single vision embracing her departure from life at a predetermined time, and pointing out the very day; God, of course, ordaining this, so that she might be ready and not troubled.

XX. Now, as for the good of purification and initiation, which is a common gift and the foundation of the second life that we all have received from God, she had received it recently. Or rather, her whole life was nothing else than a purification and perfection. And she had the regeneration indeed from the Spirit, but her security was from her previous life. And for her alone almost, if I may speak boldly, the baptism was a seal, but not a grace.

^A

And seeking that the perfection of her husband might be added to all these things (do you wish that I describe the man briefly? her husband: for I know not what more it is necessary to say), so that he might be consecrated to God in his whole body, and she might not depart perfected only by half, nor any part of her own remain incomplete, she did not fail to obtain this petition also from Him who does the will of those who fear Him, and brings their requests to fulfilment. ^B

XXI. But when all things were to her mind, and nothing of what she desired was lacking, and the day ^C of death was already at hand, she prepared herself for death and departure, and fulfilled the law regarding these things by taking to her bed. And having given directions to her husband, and children, and friends, as it was fitting for one who loved her husband, and loved her children, and loved her brothers, and having philosophized brilliantly about the things hereafter, and having made her final day a festival, she falls asleep, full, not indeed of human days—which she did not even desire, inasmuch as she knew them to be evil for herself, and for the most part ^D joined with dust and error—but she was so full of days according to God, that I do not know if anyone of those who have died in the richest old age and counted many cycles of years has been as full. Thus she is released, or, to speak more correctly, she is taken, or she flies away, or she migrates, or she departs a little before the body.

XXII. But how something of her praise has escaped me! Perhaps you would not have permitted it, O spiritual father of hers, who also accurately observed this miracle, and disclosed it to us—a great thing, indeed, for her glory, but also for our sake as a memorial of virtue and a longing for such a dissolution. And a certain horror comes over me, and tears at the same time, remembering the miracle. She was already being released and was breathing her last, and there was a chorus around her of kin and strangers alike, performing the duties of escort for her; and the observation of her aged mother, and the soul’s contortion, following her departure with jealousy, and the love of all mixed with anxiety—some wishing to hear something, a store for their memory, others desiring to speak, but no one daring to. And the tears were silent, and the pain of sorrow was unhealed (for it did not seem holy to honor with lamentations one who was being separated in this way), but there was a deep silence, and a certain ritual...

^A aspect to her death. But she, as far as could be surmised from her appearance, was breathless and motionless and silent, and the stillness of her body seemed like paralysis, as if the vocal organs were already paralyzed by the departure of the one who moved them. But the pastor, who kept watch over everything of hers with such care, perceiving that her lips were gently moving—being one who, because of the miracle which was shining forth in all things, was diligently observing her every deed and word—and having brought his ear closer (for both his own character and his sympathy made him confident), ^B tell us yourself what was the mystery of that silence, what it was and of what kind; no one will disbelieve you as you speak. The murmuring sound was psalmody, and the words of the psalmody were those of leave-taking; or rather, if one must speak the truth, it was a testimony of the boldness with which her departure was made. And blessed is he who rests with those words: "In peace I will both sleep and take my rest." These things, O most beautiful of women, were being sung over you, and so it happened; and the psalmody was what was taking place, and following her departure was her funeral oration. O you who have so well found peace from your pains, and who have received the sleep owed to the beloved, along with the common rest of sleep, as is fitting for one who lived and departed in the steps of piety.

XXIII.

in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory, and to the Father with the Holy Spirit for ever and ever. Amen.

NOTICE REGARDING ORATIONS IX, X, AND XI

I. In most manuscripts of superior quality, and even in the interpreters themselves, these three orations are arranged in this order. They concern Sasima, that is, the ordination of Gregory to the bishopric of Sasima; and for this reason, they were delivered in the same year, namely the middle of 372. The first was delivered when, overcome by the reverence he felt for his aged father, by the friendship of Basil, and by fear, he "bent his neck," as Gregory himself says, to the new bishopric of Sasima, "but did not bend his spirit" (91). The second, when he returned from the flight which he had undertaken after his consecration, confesses that he is "bound in Christ, not with iron chains, but constrained by the most tenacious bonds of the spirit," and led by old age and friendship (92). The last, finally, not long after, was delivered before Gregory of Nyssa, whom Basil had sent to our Gregory in order to "console his mind, anguished on account of the consecration" (93).

II. These three orations have the same scope and the same argument. If we are to trust Tillemont, we must believe the first was delivered after the imposition of hands had already been received. But on this matter, interpreters and scholars differ. For there are those who think otherwise than Tillemont. Indeed, Leuvenklaius, preserving the title of this oration—extracted, perhaps, from original parchments—translates it thus: "Oration delivered to his father and the great Basil, when the latter was about to create him bishop of Sasima." Elias also interprets it in this way in his argument: "At the time when he was about to be created bishop of Sasima." Bilibaldus also says in the superscription of the oration: "when he had been created bishop of Sasima, but not yet inaugurated." From which one may conjecture that the things said here can be understood not as a completed ordination, but as one designated and soon to be; and therefore nothing at all forbids one from asserting that only Gregory’s consent to his own ordination is expressed by this oration. And indeed, this consent of the Theologian is certainly no small matter, nor is it unworthy of being celebrated by a special oration. For from this, the love of quiet and solitude had to be overcome; from this, fear and reverence in the face of honors, especially those that are sacred and ecclesiastical; from this, finally, the considerations of place and circumstances, all of which greatly deterred Gregory’s mind. It is no wonder, therefore, that he provided this consent so slowly and so reluctantly.

III. It is asked, however, whether Gregory was consecrated at Sasima, or at Caesarea, or at Nazianzus. There will be no difficulty in pronouncing on this matter. Certainly not at Sasima; for the Theologian himself openly confesses (94) that "he never reached the church of Sasima assigned to him, nor did he perform any sacred rite there, nor did he offer prayers to God with the people, nor, finally, did he lay his hands on anyone." He certainly could not have said this if he had been consecrated in the church of Sasima. The matter is self-evident. Nor at Caesarea; and first of all, Gregory the Elder was present at this consecration, whose advanced age did not allow him to travel to Caesarea; furthermore, if he had gone there, the Theologian would undoubtedly not have passed over it in silence. His silence in this matter is a very strong argument that he was not consecrated at Caesarea. Therefore, he was inaugurated as bishop of the church of Sasima at Nazianzus, and Basil himself laid his hands on him there. This seems manifest from these words of Gregory (95): "There came to us Basil, most dear to me, a father to me much harder than the other," etc.

IV. That Gregory was anointed by Basil, even from the beginning, is made clear by the tenth oration. Gregory the Elder was present for it. Several other consecrating prelates were also present, as is gathered from these words of the ninth oration (n. 6): "Shepherd me, and with me this sacred flock." Indeed, from that context, Tillemont conjectures that some deputies from the Sasimenses were present at Gregory’s consecration, acting in the place of the "flock." But let us grant this for the moment: two or three deputies can never be signified by the name of "the flock," especially when mixed and confused in a larger multitude, in which they hardly count as a number. Therefore, the words praised by Tillemont should be understood not of the Sasimenses present—even if some should eventually have been present—but of those generally who were committed by the bishops to his faith, as Sasimenses indeed, even if not necessarily present. Hence the scholiast, who comments on this place of the same ninth oration (n. 3): "That the Spirit might use me as a minister, for the perfection of this people," etc., strikes out the demonstrative article "this," so that, with the ambiguity of that word removed, the proposition may be taken generally. We confess, however, that the tenth oration, in Leuvenklaius, is inscribed: "To the Sasimenses." But this is a manifest error, from