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To the Young WidowJohn Chrysostom · PG 48
Greek & scans

To the Young Widow

John Chrysostom · PG 48 · cols 601–609 · machine translation (AI, from the page scans)

John Chrysostom48
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[This is the first page of the translation.]

to hasten to ruin. And we shall find, not only these, but other occasions also that present themselves for her downfall. For servants who have no respect, and affairs neglected, and the fact that one is no longer held in the former honor, and seeing one's contemporaries doing well, and often also the desire for luxury, have persuaded them to enter into second marriages.

There are also those who, in the eye of the law, do not wish to be joined to husbands, yet do so secretly and in hiding. 340 They do this so that they may harvest the praises of widowhood; thus it seems to be an act not shameful, but wonderful and worthy of honor in the presence of men, not only among us believers, but even among the unbelievers themselves. For I know that when I was young, my teacher—who was the most superstitious of all men—on many occasions admired my mother. For, as was his custom, he would inquire of those sitting with him who I was, and when someone told him that I was the son of a widow, he would learn from me both the age of my mother and the duration of her widowhood. And when I said that at forty years of age she had twenty remaining, from the time when she lost my father, he was astonished and shouted aloud, and looking toward those present, he said, “Bah! What women there are among the Christians!” So much does the matter enjoy admiration and praise, not only among us, but even among those on the outside.

Seeing all these things, the blessed Paul said: “Let a widow be listed not less than sixty years old.” And not even after such a testimony of the years does he allow her to be enrolled in this holy choir, but also adds other things, saying, “well reported for good works, if she has brought up children, if she has lodged strangers, if she has washed the saints’ feet, if she has relieved the afflicted, if she has diligently followed every good work.” B Behold the scrutiny and the trial, how much virtue he requires of the widow, and how he scrutinizes! He would not have done this if he were not intending to entrust her with a matter significant and solemn. And, “But younger widows,” he says, “refuse.” Then he also adds the reason: “For when they have begun to wax wanton against Christ, they desire to marry.” By this word, he hints to us that those who have lost their husbands are betrothed to Christ in their stead. See how, in demonstrating that this harmony is mild and gentle, he sets this forth—I mean: “For when they have begun to wax wanton against Christ, they desire to marry,” just as a man who is gentle, and who does not use authority over them, but lets them live in freedom. And he did not cease his discourse with these points, but elsewhere again he has shown great concern for her, saying: “But she who lives in pleasure is dead, but the widow who is truly desolate has hoped in God, and continues in supplications C and prayers night and day.” And writing to the Corinthians he says: “But she is happier if she so remain.” Do you see how many are the praises of widowhood, and these in the New Testament, when even the beauty of virginity shone forth? But yet, not even then did its brightness succeed in concealing her rays, but she shines forth and thus possesses her own virtue. When, therefore, we mention the state of widowhood, do not be cast down, nor consider the matter a reproach; for if this to be reproached, virginity is much more so. But it is not, it is not; God forbid. For where we all admire and accept those who abstain from husbands while they are still living, how must one not be struck with awe and offer praise for those who demonstrate the same goodwill toward them even when they have departed? As for the time, as I said, when you lived with the blessed Therasius, you enjoyed both honor and care, such as it is expected one enjoys from a man; now, however, you have in his place the Lord of all, God, who formerly stood over you, and who will do this now with even greater and more abundant concern. And of His great care, as I said before, He has already shown us a sign by keeping you sound and untouched in such a furnace of anxieties and grief, and by allowing none of the things which you did not desire to happen to you. And He who in such a storm did not permit a shipwreck to occur, will much more preserve your soul in tranquility and make your widowhood light, as well as the things which appear to be grievous because of it.

3. If, however, it is not the very name of widowhood that troubles you, but the loss of such a husband, I myself agree with you that everywhere on earth there have been few such men among those who live in the world—affectionate, gentle, humble, guileless, D sensible, pious. But if he were utterly destroyed and had passed into non-existence, one would have to be troubled and to grieve; but if he has sailed into his own harbor and has departed to his own true King, one ought not to mourn for such a person, but even to rejoice. For this death is not a death, but a departure and a translation from the lower things to those that are better, from earth to heaven, from men to angels and archangels and the Lord of angels and archangels. For here on earth, while he was serving as a soldier for a king, one had to expect dangers and many plots from those who envied him; for in proportion as his reputation for excellence grew, so much did the things from his enemies abound; but there, upon his departure, there is nothing one can suspect of these things. Therefore, by as much as you grieve that God has taken one who was good and virtuous, by so much should you rejoice that he has departed with great security and glory, and having been freed from the present turmoil of danger, he is in peace and great quiet. For how is it not absurd to confess that heaven is much better than the earth, yet to mourn those who have migrated from the latter to the former? For if of those who have lived wickedly and contrary to what is pleasing to God, the blessed...

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he was, one ought to have lamented and mourned, not only when he departed, but even while he was alive; but since he happened to be one of your friends, you ought to rejoice with him not only in his life, but also in his falling asleep. And that this is what must be done, you have surely heard from the blessed Paul, who says: *To depart and to be with Christ is far better.* But perhaps you desire to hear his words, 312 and to enjoy his friendship, and you seek his habit, and the glory which came through him, and the splendor, and the honor, and the security, and all these things, having become vanity, trouble and darken you. Now, it is permitted for you to maintain the friendship toward him even now, just as before.

For such is the power of love; it embraces, glues, and binds together not only those who are present and near us and seen, but also those who stand far away; and neither the length of time, nor the distance of paths, nor any other such thing could be able to cut or divide the friendship of the soul. But if you also wish to see him face to face (for I know that this is what you desire most of all), preserve for him your bed untouched by another man, and strive to show a life equal to his, and you will surely go to the same choir as him, not for five years as here, nor for a hundred and twenty, nor for a thousand and twice that, nor for ten thousand and many times that, but you will dwell with him for the infinite and unending ages. For it is not bodily kinships that are fit to inherit those places of rest, but the equality of lives. For if He brought Lazarus, who was unknown to Abraham, into the same bosom as himself, and prepares many from the east and the west to recline with him through the sameness of conduct, so too will the place of rest receive you along with the good Therasius, if you are willing to show in yourself the same life as his; and then you shall receive him back again, not in this beauty of the body, which he had when he left, but in another kind of radiance and brightness, shining more than the rays of the sun.

For this body, even if it runs to great height, is nevertheless corruptible; but the bodies of those who have been well-pleasing to God shall put on such glory as even to see is not possible for these eyes. And God has provided that certain signs and faint traces of these things be given to us both in the Old and in the New Testament. For there, the face of Moses was so brightly lit with glory at that time that it was inaccessible to the eyes of the Israelites; but in the New Testament, that of Christ shone much more. For tell me, if someone promised to make you king of all the earth, and then ordered you to stand apart for twenty years for this, and after that promised that he would restore him to you with the diadem and the purple, and again to the same rank and honor, would you not bear the separation gently and with the fitting sobriety? Would you not have welcomed the gift, and considered it a matter worthy of prayer? Then endure this even now, not for an earthly kingdom, but for the one in the heavens; not that you may receive back one wearing a golden robe, but that you may receive immortality 313 and glory, as much as it is likely for those who dwell in the heavens to have. But if you are in such insufferable distress regarding the length of time, it is likely that he may appear to you some time in dreams, and speak as he was accustomed, and show the face so longed for; let this be for you a consolation instead of letters, or rather, let this be even clearer than letters. For there, one can see only written words, but here, the form of his face, and his pleasant smile, and his posture and gait, and hear his chime, and recognize the voice most dear.

D 4. But since you also mourn over the security which you possessed long ago through him, and perhaps also because he held out greater hopes of advancement (for I heard he was immediately to arrive at the throne of the praetorian prefects, which most of all, I think, turns your soul upside down and confuses it), consider those who were in greater dignity than him, and who ended their lives most pitiably. I shall remind you—perhaps you have heard of Theodore the Sicilian; for he happened to be among the most illustrious; he surpassed all in beauty and greatness of body and in boldness toward the emperor, and was more powerful than any of those moving in the palace; yet he did not endure that prosperity calmly, but having plotted against the emperor and been caught, he himself was beheaded most pitiably, and his wife—having no less nobility of upbringing and birth and all other things than yours—was suddenly stripped of everything of hers, and having fallen from her freedom, she was numbered among the treasury's spinners, and was forced to live a life more wretched than any maidservant, having so much more than others that, because of the excess of her calamity, she was wept over by all who saw her. And it is said that Artemisia, the wife of a man who was very renowned, since he also craved tyranny, came into such poverty and deprivation. For both the magnitude of her depression and the multitude of her tears quenched her eyes; and now she has need of those to lead her by the hand; and she goes to the doors of others, that she might have sufficient means for necessary food. And I could have told of many other families brought down in such a way, had I not known the piety and wisdom of your soul, not wishing to find consolation for your own calamity from the evils of others. And of these, whom I have mentioned, I have mentioned them for no other reason now, but that you might learn that human affairs are nothing, but truly, as the prophet says, *All human glory is as the flower of the grass.* For by as much as it is exalted and shines, by so much does it produce a greater fall—not only of those who are ruled, but of the kings themselves. For no one would find a private house filled with as many calamities as the palaces are full of

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evil. For there are untimely deaths of orphans, and widowhoods, and violent 344 deaths, more lawless and far more bitter than those in tragedies, which especially descend upon this station of power.

But to pass over ancient matters, of those who have ruled in our own generation, nine in total, only two ended their lives by a common death; of the others, one was killed by a tyrant, another in war, another was plotted against and killed by those guarding him within his own house, and another by the very one who had ordained him and placed the purple upon him. As for the women who lived with them, some, they say, died by poisons, others by their own despondency. Of those still living: one, having an orphan child, trembles and fears lest one of the rulers in their fear of future events should kill him; another has barely returned from exile, through the intercession of many, to the very place from which the ruler had previously banished her. And of those who live with the present rulers, one, having found a respite from her former calamities, finds her pleasure mingled with much pain, because the ruler is still very young and inexperienced, and has many who plot against him from all sides; another has died of fear, and she lives more miserably than the condemned because her husband, from whom she received the diadem, spends his time to this very day in wars and battles, and is consumed more by shame and the reproaches of all than by calamities. For what has never happened before has now come to pass, and the barbarians, having left their own country ten thousand stades from ours, have many times overrun even as many more, and after burning the lands and capturing the cities, they do not wish to return home again, but rather, as if dancing B or mocking, they trifle with all our people. And they say that one of the kings among them remarked that he was astonished at the shamelessness of our soldiers, who, even while being slaughtered more than sheep, expect to prevail and do not wish to depart from their own; for he himself said he had long since become surfeited with cutting them down. What kind of spirit, then, do you think the king, and his wife hearing these words, must have?

ε'. Since I have mentioned this war, a great swarm of widows has crowded into my mind, who of old C shone brightly from the honor of their husbands, but now are all suddenly dressed in mourning and dark garments and lament for all time. Nor did this befall them, which was granted to your honorable head. For you, O admirable lady, both saw that noble man lying upon his bed, and heard his final voice, and learned what it was necessary to do for the affairs of the household, and what he commanded, and through his testament barred entry to all the grasping and the false accusers. And not only this, but even while he was still lying dead, you fell upon him many times, and kissed his eyes, and embraced him, and wailed, and saw him escorted with great honor 345, and performed all the rites for the burial as was fitting, and by going often D to his tomb, you have no small consolation for your grief. But those others are deprived of all these things, having sent all their husbands to war as though they would receive them back again, but instead of them, they receive only the bitter news of their end. For not even the bodies of any of them were brought back to them, but only words describing the manner of their death. And there are some who were not even granted this account, nor were they able to learn how they fell, buried as they were in the great multitude of the conflict.

And what wonder if so many of the generals died in this way, since even the king himself, having been left behind in a certain village with few soldiers, did not dare to go out and withstand those who had come upon him, but remained inside and, when they set fire to it, was burned to death with all who were within—not only men, but also horses and beams and walls, and everything became one heap of ash? And those who had gone to war with the king returned to the wife in the king’s place, bearing only the report. For nothing, truly nothing of the events in this temporary life, nor the beauty of spring flowers, excels the splendors of the world. First of all, it flies away before it even appears; then, if it endures for even a small amount of time, it immediately becomes corruptible. For what is more worthless than the honor and glory from the multitude? What fruit does it have, what is its benefit, to what useful end does it arrive? And if this were the only terrible thing; but now, besides having nothing good to gain, he who has this most cruel mistress is forced to bear many painful and harmful things continuously. For she is a mistress to those who possess her, and by as much as she is flattered by her slaves, by so much the more does she rise up against them and tighten their bonds with harsher commands; and those who spit upon her and regard her with contempt, she herself is no longer able to avenge; thus she is more cruel than any tyrant or any wild beast. For the tyrant and the wild beasts are often tamed by flattery, but she becomes most savage when we obey her most, and if she finds someone who will listen and yield in all things, there is nothing she does not command thereafter. She possesses also another ally, whom one would not be wrong to call her daughter. For when this one, too, has been nurtured and grown, and has rooted herself well among us, she then brings forth recklessness—a thing no less able to precipitate the soul of those who possess it.

(6.) Therefore, tell me, do you mourn that God delivered you from such harsh servitude, that He barred every approach of these pestilential diseases? 546 For while your husband was living, they did not cease to leap continuously upon the reasonings of your soul, but now that he is dead, they have no source from which they may take hold of your mind. This, therefore, must be accomplished from now on: not to mourn for their departure, nor to seek after that bitter lordship. For wherever these things breathe strongly, they have overturned and pulled down everything from the foundations; and just so...

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for many of the women who are harlots, though they are ill-favored by nature and hideous, they inflame the still-tender souls of the young with their cosmetics and painting, and when they have them under their control, they treat them more insolently than any slave. Even so do these passions, vanity and arrogance, pollute the souls of men more than any filth.

Therefore, wealth also seemed to many to be a good thing; for when one is stripped of this, one will not even be desirable hereafter. Yet those who were able, through poverty, to obtain the glory which comes from the many, no longer chose to be wealthy, but rejected the gold that was offered to them in abundance. And you will not need to learn of these from me; you know them more accurately than I: Epaminondas, Socrates, Aristides, Diogenes, Crates, who abandoned his own land, though it was rich in sheep. For the others, from whom it was impossible to be wealthy, saw glory come to them through poverty, and they came to it immediately; but this man cast away even what he already possessed. Thus all were frantic for the acquisition of this cruel beast. Let us not, then, weep because God has delivered us from this shameful, ridiculous tyranny which possesses so many reproaches. For it has only a glorious name, but in its deeds it renders those who possess it contrary to that title; and there is no one who does not laugh at him who does anything for the sake of glory. For only that person who does not look toward this will be able to become conspicuous and renowned; but he who considers the reputation from the many to be a great glory, and who suffers and does everything in order to obtain it, he will be the one who most completely misses it and falls from it, and he will enjoy all the opposite things: laughter, accusation, mockery, enmity, and hatred. And this is accustomed to happen not only in the case of men, but also in the case of you women, and indeed most especially in your case. For all women admire, are amazed at, bless, and wish all good things for the woman who is unaffected in her bearing, her gait, and her clothing, and who seeks honor from no one; but they turn away from and hate the vain woman, and flee from her as they would a wild beast, attacking her with myriad curses and insults. And not only do we escape evils by not accepting the reputation that comes from the many, but we also gain the greatest of all things in addition to what has been said, being trained little by little to rise up and move toward A heaven, and to despise all things upon the earth. For he who does not need the honor that comes from men, whatever good he may do, will do it all with safety, and will suffer nothing terrible or grievous in this life. For neither can these things intimidate and cast him down, nor can the others inflate and puff him up; but in the midst of changeable and turbulent affairs, he remains outside of all change. I expect that this will quickly happen to your soul, and that, being suddenly detached from all worldly things, you will manifest to us the life in the heavens, and that glory, which you now mourn a little B later to be laughed at, and you will see the empty and vain mask of it. But if you desire the security which has come to you through Him, and the preservation of your affairs, and not to be plotted against by any of those who pounce upon the misfortunes of others, "Cast your burden upon the Lord, and He will sustain you." For "look," He says, "to the generations of old, and see: who has hoped in the Lord C and been put to shame? Or who has called upon Him and been overlooked by Him? Or who has remained in His commandments and been abandoned by Him?" For He who has endured the misfortune that was so unbearable, and has caused things to be in a calm now, He will also repel the things that are coming; for you will no longer receive any other blow more grievous than this, as you yourself will agree with us. Therefore, since you have borne what is at hand so nobly, and that while inexperienced, you will bear what is coming much more easily, if by any chance — which may it not happen — any of the things contrary to our wishes occurs. Therefore, seek heaven D and all the things that lead toward the life there, and nothing that is here will be able to harm you, not even the ruler of darkness himself, provided only that we do not harm ourselves. For even if one were to take away your property, even if one were to cut apart your body, none of these things concern us, so long as our soul remains sound.

7. But altogether, if you wish for your money to remain in security and to increase again, I will point out to you both the method and the place where it is not allowed for any of those who plot to enter. What, then, is the place? Heaven. Send them to that noble Man, and neither a thief, nor a plotter, nor anything else that ravages them will be able to pounce upon them. If you bury these riches there, you will find a great fruit from them. For all things that are planted in the heavens by us have their yield both more abundant and better, and of such a kind as it is proper for those to have which are rooted in heaven. And if you do this, see what good things you will enjoy: first, eternal life and the things promised to those who love God, which "eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have they entered into the heart of man"; then, to dwell with this Good One for all eternity, and you will deliver yourself from the cares and fears 348 and dangers and plots and enmity and hatred here. For as long as you are clothed in these things, there will perhaps be some who will attack you; but if you transfer them to heaven, you will live a life free of danger and secure and full of much peace, enjoying self-sufficiency along with piety. For it is truly a great lack of sense, when one wishes to purchase a field, to seek out the fertile land, but when heaven is set before one—when it is possible to acquire a lot there—to remain upon the earth and endure the toils of it; for it often cheats us of our hope. And since what is expected distracts your soul terribly and troubles it—that it will often arrive at the station of those in power, and have been snatched away from the authority—first consider this, that if

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and this hope was very manifest; but yet it was a human hope, often failing. And we see many such things happening in life, and that desires which were very much expected remained unfulfilled, while things that had not even come into our minds have often come to pass, and this we see happening always, in magistracies, in royal governments, in inheritances, and in marriages. So that even if the time was very near, yet many things, according to the proverb, “are between the cup and the lip.” And Scripture also says, “From morning until evening the time changes.” Thus also the king who is today, tomorrow dies. And again, this same wise man, showing us things contrary to hope, says: “Many tyrants have sat upon the ground, and one who was never suspected has worn the crown.” And it was not at all certain that, having lived, he would reach that position of authority; for the future is uncertain and provided us with reasons to suspect other outcomes. For whence was it clear that he would live to reach that authority? Because things contrary did not also happen, and he fall from the honor he had, being given over to disease, or being struck down by the envy and jealousy of those who wished to outdo him, or having suffered some other grievous thing? But let us assume, if you wish, and that it is clearly manifest that he was bound to survive and was going to attain that summit; for the greater the dignity, the greater the necessity of having dangers and anxieties and plots. But let not even these things be, but rather let him cross that sea without danger and with much peace; and what is the end, tell me? Is it not what is present now, or rather, not this, but something else perhaps unpleasant and undesirable? First, that it is slower to see heaven and things in the A heavens, which is no small loss for those who have believed in things to come; then, even if he had lived very purely, yet the length of life and the necessity of that authority would not B have let him depart as pure as he is now. But it is uncertain whether, even if he had received many changes and inclined toward negligence, he would have breathed his last in the end. For now we have confidence that by the grace of God he has flown to the place of rest, because nothing had dared to approach him of those things which bar one from the kingdom of heaven; but then, having spent a long time in public C affairs, perhaps he would have contracted much filth. For it is among the very rare things for one moving in the midst of so many evils to succeed, while to sin, both involuntarily and voluntarily, is one of the things that are probable and always happening. But now we are relieved of this fear, and we are very convinced that on that day he will arrive with much brightness, shining near the King, and marching before Christ with angels, and clothed in the ineffable glory, and standing by the King as He judges, and ministering the first services to Him. Wherefore, leaving behind D lamentations and wailings, hold to the same manner of life, or rather, even a more exact one, that you may reach a virtue equal to his, and may inhabit the same tabernacle with him, and be able to be joined to him again for those immortal ages, not this union of marriage, but another much better. For this is only a connection of bodies; but then there will be a union of soul with soul that is more exact, and much sweeter and better.

BY THE SAME, TO THE SAME, ON MONOGAMY.

1. That men should seek out such infinite, troublesome associations, and pains, and all other things which marriage drags in as it enters into the homes of men—there is nothing wonderful in this; for the proverb says that even war, a matter so painful to the inexperienced, is sweet. But that those who have endured ten thousand evils, and often having been persuaded by the necessity of circumstances, have blessed those who were freed from the things of the world, and have cursed themselves, and their matchmakers, and the day on which their wedding chambers were woven—that these, after so much bitterness, should again desire the same things, this is what most of all strikes me and makes me at a loss, and to seek the cause for which the things which they previously thought were to be avoided, when they were in them, these now, when they have been freed from them, they seek again as desirable. And turning ten thousand reasonings in my mind up and down, I could hardly at any time persuade myself and find the cause of the matter; or rather, there is not one cause, nor two only, but more than these. For some, having surrendered the previous things to oblivion through the length of time, and remembering only the things at hand, come indeed to marriage as to a release from the evils of widowhood, but they find in it other things much more grievous, so as again to utter the same cries as before. But others again, gaping at the things of the world, and hanging on the glory of the present life, and thinking widowhood to be a disgraceful thing, choose the miseries that are in marriage, for the sake of vain glory and superfluous pride. And there are those who are overcome neither by these, but by incontinence alone, and return again to the former things, and try to conceal the true cause with the aforementioned pretexts. And so, to censure and condemn them for this marriage, I neither dare myself, nor do I advise another to do so; since this does not seem right even to the blessed Paul, or rather, to the Holy Spirit. For having said, “A woman is bound by the law for as long a time as her husband lives; but if her husband should fall asleep, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, only in the Lord,” and having granted to the widow, if she should wish to be married again,

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