A to introduce speech while the calamity is still inflaming the mind, the wound of grief would become more difficult to heal, breaking open again by the mention of bitter things, like one who is torn by thorns. And unless it is quite too bold for me also to attempt to correct the master in some respect, perhaps it would have been well to maintain our silence until now, so that our speech, if brought down to the calamity, might not grieve the ears. For not yet has so much time elapsed that the mind could grow accustomed to the evil. The disaster is still fresh in the mind: and perhaps the grief will always be fresh for our generation: our heart is still troubled: and like some sea moved by the whirlwind of calamity that is overturned from its lowest depths, our thoughts still surge, seething at the mention of these evils. Since, therefore, the mind is disturbed by such a tempest, how can it be that speech should proceed on a straight course, tossed as it were by a storm of feeling of grief? But since it is necessary to obey the one commanding, I know not what kind of speech I shall use. For I cannot conceive by what conjectures I might attain the mind of the master. Or perhaps he even wishes to indulge something to the passion, and by words accommodated to rousing the feelings, to stir up tears in the assembly? And if he thinks these things, he does this rightly, in my judgment: for it is necessary indeed, just as we are eager for the enjoyment of good things, so also to accommodate ourselves to the mournful ones of the things that befall us. For this is also what Ecclesiastes advises. “There is a time,” he says, “to laugh, and a time to weep.” B
We learn through these things, therefore, that it is necessary to dispose the soul appropriately to the present matter. Do things proceed favorably? It is the time to rejoice: has the brightness shifted into dejection? It is fitting to change also cheerfulness into tears. For just as laughter becomes a sign of the cheerfulness lurking within, so also is the pain in the heart interpreted by lamentations, and tears become as it were the blood of the wounds of the soul. This signifies also the Proverb of Solomon, that "When the heart is glad, the face flowers; but when the soul is in sorrows, it is downcast." Thus it is absolutely necessary for the speech to be downcast along with the disposition of the heart. And would that it were possible to find some such words as those with which the great Jeremiah once lamented over the calamity of the Israelites! For the present things are more worthy of those [words] than if anything else from antiquity is remembered in mournful tales. The accounts of Job are grievous. But what need is there to compare the easily numbered sufferings of one house with this such great hardship? Truly, even if you relate great and more common evils, earthquakes, and wars, and inundations, and chasms, these too are small, if they be judged against the present. Wherefore? Because the calamity of war does not pertain to the whole world at once; but one part of it is at war, D while another part is at peace. What again? Either a thunderbolt has burned, or the water [has...]
A consumed or been swallowed by the abyss. But the present evil is a wound of the entire world at once. It is not possible for one nation or one city to lament; but it is appropriate perhaps to utter the voice of Nebuchadnezzar, which he made to his subjects: "To you I say, O peoples, tribes, B and tongues." Nay rather, permit me to add something to the Assyrian proclamation, so that I may proclaim and divulge the calamity with a louder voice, and say, as someone shouting on the stage might say: "O cities and peoples, and nations and the whole earth, and as much of the sea as is navigable and as much as is inhabited; O all of our world that is guided by the scepter of the empire, O all you humans from everywhere, groan together at the distress, together institute the symphony of lamentation, together lament the loss of all." Or do you wish, as I am able, that I should also describe the loss to you? Human nature in our generation has brought forth, having exceeded its own boundaries and surpassed the customary limits—nature, or rather the Lord of nature—a human soul in a female body, surpassing almost all previous examples of virtue, in which every virtue of body and every virtue of soul having converged, exhibited an incredible miracle to human life: how many good things did it contain in one soul and in one body? C And so that the good fortune of our generation might be most evident to all, she is led up to the high throne of the empire, so that like the sun from a high dignity she might illuminate the whole world with the rays of her virtues, and having been joined to him who had been appointed by divine decree to the society of [her] life and empire over the entire world, she made the subjects blessed through her own self, being truly, as Scripture says, a helper to him for every good thing. If the occasion was for loving-kindness, either she would run with him to this good, or even run before him; the balance was equal on both sides with the inclination of loving-kindness. And the things that surpass calculation in number, both those done previously and the proclamations of the present time which we have now heard from the herald of truth, bear witness to the argument. If you seek piety, the course towards piety D was common to both. If [you seek] foresight, if justice, if anything else of those which are pursued for the sake of the better—everything was in a contention of those struggling against one another to see who would be surpassed in good deeds and services, and there was no one being defeated. Each had an equal grace toward the other; she had as the prize of virtue him who was appointed over the world, and he considered the authority over land and sea as small in comparison to the good fortune he had in her; they offered equal delights to each other, looking at one another and being looked upon by one another; he indeed being such as he is (for what beauty could anyone show that is beyond what is seen? And may it be that what is seen lasts even to the life of the descendants), but she, such as she was, it is not possible to point out in speech; for no image of her has been left behind through art with accuracy; but even if something has been done in paintings or in statues, all are more wanting than the truth.
Such are the accounts up to this point; but what follows? Again I am forced to cry out. And forgive me for exceeding all measure in my shouting, because of the distress. O Thrace, a name to be fled from! O wretched district, a nation distinguished by disasters! O land, once laid waste by the hostile fire of the incursions of the barbarians, but now receiving into itself the crown of the common calamity; here the good is snatched away, here envy has raged and run riot against the empire, here the shipwreck of the world has occurred, here, as if caught in a whirlwind and dashing against a crag, we have been plunged into the depths of sadness and mourning! O that baneful journey, which denied a return! O those bitter waters, whose springs I wish she had never desired! O district, in which the disaster occurred, and which, because of the disaster, received its name from dark night. B For I hear that in their native tongue the place is called Skotoumin—that is to say, from darkness; there the lamp was darkened, there the brightness was extinguished, there the rays of virtue were dimmed; the ornament of the empire is gone, the rudder of justice, the image of humanity, or rather its very principal form; the figure and example of marital love has been taken away, the chaste gift of continence, sobriety, and modesty, the gravity easy of approach, the approachableness and gentleness not to be despised: the high humility of soul and modesty, ingenuous shame, the common harmony of virtues: the zeal and devotion of the faith has perished, the pillar of the Church, the ornament of the altars, the wealth of the poor, the right hand sufficient for ministering to many, the common harbor of those tossed and afflicted. Let virginity mourn, let widowhood lament, let orphanage weep; let them know what they had, now that they have ceased to have it. Or indeed, what is the point of my dividing the lamentation into parts and orders? C Let every age groan, heaving a deep sigh from the midst of its heart: let the priesthood itself also mourn with us, since envy has pulled away our common ornament. Is it too bold to utter that saying of the Prophet, "Why, O God, hast thou cast us off forever, and hath thy wrath been kindled against the sheep of thy pasture?" For what sins are we paying the penalty? For what cause? In whose name are we afflicted and chastened with disaster upon disaster? Or is it perhaps because the impiety of various heresies abounds that this sentence has prevailed against us? For see in what evils we have been entangled in a short time. Not yet have we recovered from the former disaster, not yet have we wiped the tears from our eyes, and we have again fallen into such a great calamity. Then we lamented the tender flower, D now the very branch from which the flower sprouted and was born: then the hoped-for beauty, now the one that flourished: then the good that was expected, now that which...
A came to pass. Will you forgive me, brothers, if I seem foolish and speak absurdly because of this disaster? Perhaps, as the Apostle says, even all of creation has groaned at our misfortune. And I will renew for you the memory of those things which occurred, and I suppose most of you will agree with what is said. When the empress was being carried into the city veiled in gold and purple robes (it was a litter, however, in which she was being carried), and with every rank and every age having poured out of the city—so that whatever was exposed to the open air seemed too narrow due to the multitude—and even all those excellent in dignity were following the funeral procession on foot: you remember, surely, how the sun veiled its rays with clouds, as if perhaps it should not look down with pure light upon the empress entering the city in such a state, not on some chariot or gold-bound carriage, according to royal custom, rejoicing with guards, but covered in a coffin and hiding that form under a gloomy shroud; a sight terrible and pitiable, a source of tears laid out for those who happened upon it. Every one of the gathered crowd, both the stranger and the local, received her as she entered not with cheers, but with lamentations. Then the air itself also grew gloomy in a mournful way, B as if clothing itself in darkness like a garment of mourning. And the clouds, too, as much as they were able, wept along, shedding soft and fine drops of rain in place of tears for the tragedy.
Are these things truly nonsense, and not even worth mentioning? For even if something of this sort has occurred in creation, such as to signify the calamity, it has not occurred entirely from creation, but from the Lord of creation, honoring the death of His saint through the things He did. "Precious," it says, "in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." I saw, however, at that time another sight more marvelous than those mentioned. I saw a double rain: one from the air, and the other flowing down to the earth from the eyes of those who were weeping; and the rain from their eyes was not less than that which poured from the clouds. For among so many thousands of those present, there was no eye that did not water the earth with drops of tears. But perhaps we have not correctly conjectured the mind of the teacher, having dwelt longer than we should have on the gloomy things. For perhaps he wishes to heal rather than to grieve the ears; but we have now done the opposite. Just as if some physician, having received a wounded man, should not only neglect his treatment, but should also further afflict and finish off the sufferer with some caustic medicines. Therefore, the discourse must be poured like oil upon the swelling wound. For even the evangelical medicine knows how to mix oil with the astringent nature of wine. Let us, therefore, incline toward you, having taken the oil-flask from the Scripture, and as far as it is possible, having sung a palinode to the gloom of the things said, bringing forth for the consolation D of the things mentioned. But let no one disbelieve me in what is said, even if it be paradoxical. The good thing, brothers, which we seek, exists; it exists, and it has not perished. Rather, I have spoken something less than the truth. For not only does the good thing exist, but it is also in higher places than before. Do you seek the empress? She has her manner of life in the palaces. But with the eye
you desire to know this? it is not permitted for you to expend superfluous effort on this, to look upon the queen. Terrible about her is the guard of soldiers—not these soldiers, I say, to whom iron is a weapon, but those armed with a flaming sword, whose appearance the sight of men cannot endure; in which hidden mysteries of the kingdom is magnificence, you will then see, when you yourself also, having emerged from the body, look forth; for it is not permitted otherwise to arrive within the adyta and chambers of the kingdom, unless the veil of the flesh has been withdrawn. B
Do you think it more excellent to enjoy life through the flesh? Then let the divine Apostle, who was a partaker of the ineffable mysteries of paradise, instruct you. What does he say concerning this life—perhaps speaking from the common person of men? "Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?" Why does he say this? Because, he says, to be dissolved and to be with Christ is far better. And what of that great David, who flourished with such great sovereignty, who had in abundance all things that pertain to enjoyment and power? Is he not distressed by life? Does he not name this life a prison? Does he not cry out to the Lord, "Bring my soul out of prison"? Does he not feel burdened and offended by the prolongation of life? "Woe is me," he says, "that my sojourning is prolonged!" Or did the saints not know how to discern the good from the worse, and for that reason think the departure from the body more excellent for the soul? C
But you, what good, I pray, do you see in life? Consider the things in which life is observed. I do not bring forward for you the voice of the prophet saying, "All flesh is grass." For he rather adorns and honors the misery of nature with that likeness; for perhaps it would be better for it to be grass than what it is. Why? Because grass has no unpleasantness from nature; but our flesh is a workshop of foul odor, corrupting and rendering useless whatever it receives. And what punishment is equally heavy as being at all times subject to the ministry of the belly? For see this perpetual tax collector—I mean the belly—how great a necessity of exaction it brings each day! Even if we have paid out more at some time than was fixed and ordained, we have deducted nothing from the following debt; like animals who are worn out by labor in a mill, with our eyes covered, we go around the mill of life, always wandering through similar things and returning to the same. I will tell you this circular circuit: appetite, satiety, sleep, wakefulness, evacuation, repletion. Always these from those, and those from these, and again these; and we never cease going in this circle until we are born outside the mill. Solomon rightly calls this life a perforated jar and an alien house. For it is truly an alien house, and not our own, because it is not in our power D
A or the time we desire to remain in it; but we are brought in when we know not, and we are moved out when we know not. You will understand the riddle of the jar if you look at the insatiable nature of desires. Do you see how men pour into themselves honors, powers, glories, and all such things? Yet what is poured in flows away and does not remain with the possessor; for the zeal for glory, power, and honor is always active and thriving, but the jar of desire remains unfulfilled. And what of the love of money? Is it not truly a perforated jar, leaking from the entire bottom, which, even if you were to pour the whole sea into it, has no nature capable of being filled?
What then is grievous, if this blessed woman has been separated from the evils of life, and, as if casting off the filth of the body like some rheum, the pure soul has migrated to the incorrupt life, in which deceit has no citizenship, slander is not believed, flattery has no place, falsehood is not mixed in, and pleasure and pain, fear and confidence, poverty and wealth, servitude and lordship, and every such irregularity of life is banished as far as possible from that life? B "Pain, and sorrow, and sighing" have fled from it, as the prophet says. And what instead of these? Immutability, blessedness, alienation from every evil, the communion of angels, the contemplation of invisible things, the participation in God, and joy that has no end. Is it then fitting to grieve for the queen, once we have learned what she has exchanged for what? She left behind an earthly kingdom, but she has attained the heavenly one; she laid aside the crown made of stones, but she has put on the crown of glory; she divested herself of the purple robe, but she has put on Christ. This is the truly royal and precious garment. I hear that the purple here is reddened by the blood of a certain sea-mussel; but the blood of Christ adds brilliance and bloom to the purple above. You have seen how great the difference and the superiority is in the garment. Do you wish to be convinced that she is in those things? Read the Gospel: "Come, you blessed of my Father" (the Judge says these things to those on the right), "inherit the kingdom prepared for you." C Prepared by whom? Which you yourselves, it says, prepared for yourselves through your works. How? "I was hungry, I was thirsty, I was a stranger, naked, infirm, in prison. Inasmuch as you did it to one of these least, you did it to me." If, then, the zeal for these things is the means of procuring a kingdom, count, if it is possible to count, how many were covered by the garments supplied by her! How many were fed by that great right hand! How many of those shut away were deemed worthy not only of a visit, but of complete release! But if visiting one shut away procures a kingdom, surely freeing one from punishment is worthy of a greater reward, if indeed there is anything higher than a kingdom. But the praise of her is not limited to these things. For it also passes beyond the present D
A commanded deeds. How many, for her sake, have recognized in themselves that grace of the resurrection, who, according to the laws, had died, and, having received the sentence of death, were again recalled to life through her! The evidence of the things spoken is before your eyes. You saw the youth by the altar, who had despaired of his salvation. You saw the poor woman lamenting over the condemnation of her brother, he who proclaimed the good things to the Church, so that in memory of the Queen the grim sentence of death was dissolved into life. But are these things the only ones? Where shall we place that humility, which Scripture sets before every achievement of virtue? She who, sharing the rule with the great Emperor, with such great authority existing, with every power bowing down, with so many nations subject and paying tribute, with both land and sea supporting and nurturing her with their own bounties, gave no entrance to pride against herself, always looking to herself and not to her external goods; therefore she became an heir of blessedness, having obtained true height through temporary humility of soul.
I will also tell you something as an indication and argument of her love for her husband. When the bodily marriage was being dissolved, it was altogether necessary that the precious goods in which she abounded should come to a division. How, therefore, did she make the distribution? As there were three children (for these are the main heads of possessions), she left the males with their father, so that they might be the supports of his kingdom; but she decided that only the daughter should belong to her own portion. Do you see with how much sincerity, equity of mind, and indulgence she acted, in that she granted the greater part of the precious things to her husband? But that which ought especially to be said by us, with this added, I shall bring the speech to an end. Hatred of idols is common to all who are participants of the faith; but hers was special, in that she abhorred the Arian disbelief just as the worship of idols. For she thought that those who think C the Divine is in the creature serve and venerate nothing less than those who make idols out of matter: and she judged this rightly and piously. For he who worships the creature, even if he does this in the name of Christ, is an idolater, imposing the name of Christ upon an idol. Therefore, having learned that God is not recent and new, she worshipped one Godhead, which is glorified in the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In this faith she grew, in this she flourished, to this she committed her spirit; by this she was led to the bosom of the father of faith, Abraham, near the fountain of paradise (the drop of which does not come to the faithless), under the shadow of the tree of life, which is planted near the watercourses, of which things may we also be found worthy in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom is the glory unto the ages. Amen.