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To the Same, Letter 128John Chrysostom · PG 52
Greek & scans

To the Same, Letter 128

John Chrysostom · PG 52 · cols 595–595 · machine translation (AI, from the page scans)

John Chrysostom52
595

ration from Cucusus, how many after the stay in Arabissus. But we have escaped all these, and now we are in health and great safety, so that all the Armenians are amazed that in so weak and frail a body I can endure such an intolerable intensity of cold and can breathe, since even those who are accustomed to winter are affected by it in no ordinary way. But we have remained unhurt and safe to this day; we have escaped the hands of brigands who often made attempts upon us, and we suffer from a lack of necessities, and we are not even permitted to use a bath. And yet, when we were staying there, we had continual need of it; but now we have come to such a state and habit that we are not even held by the desire for such consolation, but have attained better health than to have need of using it. Nor has the intemperance of the weather, nor the solitude of the places, nor the scarcity of things to buy, nor the lack of those to care for us, nor the inexperience of physicians, nor the want of baths, nor the fact that we are kept continually shut up in our room as if in a prison, nor the fact that we cannot go out—which to be sure we had continual need to do—nor the fact that we are always amidst smoke and fire, nor the fear of brigands, nor the constant siege, nor finally anything else of this kind broken or overcome us; rather, we are in better and more comfortable health than when we were there, though we use great care. Therefore, reflecting on all these things with yourself, drive away the sadness which now holds you on account of these causes, and do not exact from yourself unnecessary and heavy penalties. I send to you that which I lately committed to letters, namely that a person who has not harmed himself can be harmed by no one else; for that discourse which I now send to you contends and labors on this very point. Wherefore, see that you read it through constantly, or even, if your health permits, recite it. For that medicine, if you will, is sufficient for you. But if you contend against us with stubbornness, and neither take care of yourself, nor, although you have countless warnings and exhortations at hand, can you induce your soul to emerge from the pit of sadness, we also will not easily comply with you, nor will we be induced to send long and frequent letters if you are to receive no gain or utility from them for the cheerfulness of your soul. How then shall we know this? Not if you say so, but if you show it by the things themselves, since even now you have confirmed this, that nothing other than this sadness has brought this sickness upon you. Since therefore you yourself have confessed this, unless you are freed from the sickness, you will by no means persuade us that you have repelled the sadness of soul. For since this is, as you yourself have written, what summons the sickness, there is certainly no doubt that when it is removed, the sickness too is taken away from the midst, and once the root is pulled up, the branches also perish with it. For as long as they persist in flourishing and being vigorous and bringing forth fruit which is not at all becoming, it will not be possible for us to be persuaded that you have been freed from the root. Wherefore, show me not words, but deeds; and if you attain health, you will see letters again being sent to you which exceed the measure of a discourse. Nor indeed ought you to consider this a light consolation, that we live, that we are well, that, while we are encompassed by such great difficulties and troubles, we are nevertheless free from sickness and ill health; which, as I have learned, affects our enemies with no small sadness and pain. Wherefore it is consistent that you also should consider this a great consolation, and even the head of all consolations. Do not call your company, which is now more inscribed in the heavens through the calamities which it suffers, deserted and forsaken. I have been affected with great pain concerning Pelagius A the monk. Think therefore how great and how many crowns they are worthy of who have stood in the battle line with a brave soul, when we see men who lived so piously and holily, and with such great tolerance, being snatched away and driven into deception.

To the same epistle V.

B (In the year, as is thought, 406.)

the lists have been set, and longer spaces for the races have been established; and the anger of those who plot against you rises into a greater flame. But you ought by no means to be moved or disturbed on this account, but rather to rejoice and exult for this very reason, and to crown your heads, and join in dances. For if you had not first engaged in mortal combat with the devil, this beast would not be raging so much as to dare to advance further. Wherefore, this is a proof both of your courage and victory, and of that huge defeat of his, that he now attacks and insults you more bitterly, and gives evidence of greater impudence, and pours forth his poison more profusely. For so also in the blessed Job, after he was overcome in the loss of his possessions and the plucking away of his children, then too, clearly showing himself to be affected by heavy wounds, he betook himself to that which was the head of evils, that is, to the siege of the flesh, and the swarm of worms, and the choir of ulcers—for I call a choir and a crown the band of six hundred victories. And not even here did he stop; but since no other machine of equal weight remained to him (for he had brought upon him that sickness as if it were the extreme limit of calamities), he moved other warlike torments again, namely, by arming the wife, provoking friends against him, exciting the servants and making them bestial, and in every way ulcerating his wounds: which even now he does not cease to attempt; but indeed upon his own head; since from this it happens that your affairs shine more, and become more sublime and brilliant day by day: for then greater riches exist for you, a richer fruit, frequent and continuous crowns; great increase of courage is also brought to you through these very bitternesses of things, and your tolerance is sharpened by hostile plots. For such is the nature of affliction, that it renders those who bear it with a calm and strenuous soul superior to bitter things, and more sublime than the darts of the devil, and teaches them to disdain plots. For trees which are nourished in the shade acquire greater softness, and are rendered less fit for the production of fruits; but those which experience the inconstancy of the air, and receive the onsets of the winds, and the burning rays of the sun, gather more strength from this, and abound in leaves, and are bowed down by a store of fruits. Thus indeed it is accustomed to happen in the sea also: for those who first embark upon a ship, even if they are very brave persons, are disturbed through inexperience, and are thrown into confusion, and overwhelmed by dizzying vertigo; while those...

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