John Chrysostom, Letters

of your genuine and fervent love, that you, sitting at so great a distance, tremble for our safety. For formerly, changing places from place to place in the very height of winter, now in cities, now in ravines and glens we passed our time, being driven from every side by the attack of the Isaurians. And when at last the evils here abated a little, leaving the desolate places, we fled down to Arabissus, having found its fortress safer than the other places—for we do not live in the city, since not even this is safe, but we endure a dwelling worse than any prison. For besides death being at our doors, so to speak, every day, with the Isaurians attacking everything, and destroying with fire and sword both bodies and buildings, we also fear a famine, which the confinement and the multitude of those who have flocked here threaten to cause. And having endured a long illness that resulted from the winter and the continuous flight, we have now escaped the worst of it, but we still carry about a few remnants of it. But nevertheless, even being in such great evils and such circumstances, we reap the greatest consolation from your love, which is fervent, and genuine, and unchangeable. Knowing these things, therefore, do not hesitate to continually bring us the good news concerning your health. For even if we are seated at so great a distance, nevertheless we are bound together with you with great exactness by the chain of love. And I am very grateful to your honor, because even for the affairs in Phoenicia, and though being in such great troubles, you show much diligence. If, therefore, anything more should be announced from there, do not hesitate to make it known to us. For no one from anywhere can bear to visit us quickly, since the roads 52.647 from all directions leading here are blocked. But nevertheless, even if it is difficult to send to us continually, whenever it is possible, do this, both making known all things from there, and letting us know about your health, about which it is of great concern for us to learn. 70. To Aphthonius, Theodotus, Chaereas, presbyters and monks. I myself wished to see you having come here; but since many things prevent it, this I do not dare to demand now, but I ask that, even being far away, you provide us with the alliance of your bold prayers; for this help is neither withered by time, nor separated by the length of a road, but wherever one who has boldness before God may be, as you indeed are, he is able from there to benefit most greatly even those who are far away, and along with prayers, to provide us with letters continually bringing the good news of your health. For even if many are the waves that surround us on all sides, and the desolation of the place, and siege, and the attack of the Isaurians, and daily death—for we live with continual death, as in a prison, being shut up in this fortress, and wrestling with a grievous bodily weakness—but nevertheless, even if the circumstances are many, we have your love as no small consolation for these evils. For even if we were with you for only a short time, yet we have received much proof of your disposition, which is genuine and fervent and sweeter than honey, unchangeable, stable and firm, which you show both when present and absent. For these reasons, although being far from you, and being oppressed by so many dreadful things, we rest as in a harbor in the memory of your virtue, considering your love to be a most great treasure. Therefore, we have been freed from the grievous illness, with the winter having passed and the spring having come, but we still carry about the remnants of it, which the continuation of the Isaurian disturbances aggravates. Knowing these things, therefore, and being far away, do not hesitate to remember us continually, and to write to us constantly, whenever it is possible, bringing the good news about your health. 71. To Malchus. Neither be disheartened, nor reckon the most beautiful departure of your blessed daughter to sins. For she has sailed into a waveless harbor, and has come to a life no longer having an end, and

γνησίας σου καὶ θερμῆς ἀγάπης, τὸ ἐκ τοσούτου καθήμενον διαστήματος περιτρέμειν ἡμῶν τῆς σωτηρίας. Πρώην μὲν οὖν τόπους ἐκ τόπων ἀμείβοντες ἐν αὐτῇ τοῦ χειμῶνος τῇ ἀκμῇ, νῦν μὲν ἐν πόλεσιν, νῦν δὲ ἐν φάραγξι καὶ νάπαις διετρίβομεν, ὑπὸ τῆς τῶν Ἰσαύρων ἐφόδου πανταχόθεν ἐλαυνόμενοι. Ὀψὲ δέ ποτε λωφησάντων μικρὸν τῶν ἐνταῦθα κακῶν, τὰς ἐρημίας ἀφέντες, ἐπὶ τὴν Ἀραβισσὸν κατεδράμομεν, ἀσφαλέστερον μὲν τῶν ἄλλων χωρίων τὸ ἐν αὐτῇ φρούριον εὑρόντες οὐδὲ γὰρ ἐν τῇ πόλει διάγομεν, ἐπειδήπερ οὐδὲ τοῦτο ἀσφαλὲς, δεσμωτηρίου δὲ παντὸς χείρονα ὑπομένοντες οἴκησιν. Μετὰ γὰρ τοῦ καθ' ἑκάστην, ὡς εἰπεῖν, τὴν ἡμέραν ἐπὶ θύραις ἡμῖν εἶναι τὸν θάνατον, τῶν Ἰσαύρων πάντα ἐπιόντων, καὶ πυρὶ καὶ σιδήρῳ καὶ σώματα καὶ οἰκοδομήματα ἀφανιζόντων, καὶ λιμὸν δεδοίκαμεν, ὃν ἡ στενοχωρία καὶ τὸ πλῆθος τῶν ἐνταῦθα συνδραμόντων ποιεῖν ἀπειλεῖ. Καὶ ἀῤῥωστίαν δὲ μακρὰν τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ χειμῶνος καὶ τῆς συνεχοῦς φυγῆς ἐγγενομένην ἡμῖν ὑπομείναντες, νῦν τὸ μὲν χαλεπὸν αὐτῆς διαπεφεύγαμεν, ὀλίγα δὲ αὐτῆς περιφέρομεν λείψανα. Ἀλλ' ὅμως καὶ ἐν τοσούτοις ὄντες κακοῖς καὶ τηλικαύταις περιστάσεσι, μεγίστην καρπούμεθα παραμυθίαν ἐκ τῆς ὑμετέρας ἀγάπης, τῆς θερμῆς, καὶ γνησίας, καὶ ἀπεριτρέπτου. Ταῦτ' οὖν εἰδότες, συνεχῶς ἡμῖν εὐαγγελίζεσθαι περὶ τῆς ὑγιείας τῆς ὑμετέρας μὴ κατοκνεῖτε. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ ἐκ τοσούτου καθήμεθα διαστήματος, ἀλλ' ὅμως τῇ τῆς ἀγάπης ἁλύσει μετὰ πολλῆς ὑμῖν συνδεδέμεθα τῆς ἀκριβείας. Χάριν δὲ ἔχω σου πολλὴν τῇ τιμιότητι, ὅτι καὶ τῶν ἐν Φοινίκῃ πραγμάτων, καὶ ἐν τοσαύταις ὢν ταραχαῖς, πολλὴν ποιῇ σπουδήν. Ἂν οὖν τι πλέον ἐκεῖθεν ἐπαγγελθείη, δηλῶσαι ἡμῖν μὴ κατοκνήσῃς. Ἡμῖν γὰρ οὐδεὶς οὐδαμόθεν ταχέως ἐπιχωριάζειν ἀνέχεται, τῶν ὁδῶν 52.647 πανταχόθεν, τῶν ἐνταῦθα φερουσῶν, ἀποτετειχισμένων. Ἀλλ' ὅμως εἰ καὶ ἐργῶδες τὸ πέμπειν πρὸς ἡμᾶς συνεχῶς, ἡνίκα ἂν ἐξῇ, τοῦτο ποίει, τά τε ἐκεῖθεν πάντα δηλῶν, καὶ περὶ τῆς ὑγιείας ὑμῶν γνωρίζων, περὶ ἧς σφόδρα περισπούδαστον ἡμῖν μανθάνειν. Οʹ. Ἀφθονίῳ, Θεοδότῳ, Χαιρέᾳ, πρεσβυτέροις καὶ μονάζουσιν. Ἐβουλόμην καὶ αὐτὸς παραγενομένους ὑμᾶς ἐνταῦθα ἰδεῖν· ἀλλ' ἐπειδὴ πολλὰ τὰ κωλύοντα, τοῦτο μὲν οὐ τολμῶ νῦν ἀπαιτεῖν, ἀξιῶ δὲ, καὶ πόῤῥωθεν ὄντας, τὴν ἀπὸ τῶν πεπαῤῥησιασμένων εὐχῶν ὑμῶν παρέχειν συμμαχίαν ἡμῖν αὕτη γὰρ οὔτε χρόνῳ μαραίνεται ἡ βοήθεια, οὔτε ὁδοῦ μήκει διείργεται, ἀλλ' ὅπουπερ ἂν διάγῃ τις παῤῥησίαν πρὸς τὸν Θεὸν ἔχων, καθάπερ οὖν καὶ ὑμεῖς, δύναται καὶ τοὺς πόῤῥωθεν ὄντας ἐντεῦθεν τὰ μέγιστα ὠφελεῖν, μετὰ δὲ τῶν εὐχῶν καὶ γράμματα ἡμῖν παρέχειν τὰ συνεχῶς περὶ τῆς ὑγείας ὑμῶν εὐαγγελιζόμενα. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ πολλὰ τὰ πανταχόθεν ἡμῖν περιεστοιχισμένα κύματα, καὶ ἐρημία τόπου, καὶ πολιορκία, καὶ Ἰσαύρων ἔφοδος, καὶ καθημερινὸς θάνατος θανάτῳ γὰρ συζῶμεν διηνεκεῖ, καθάπερ ἐν δεσμωτηρίῳ, ἐν τῷ φρουρίῳ τούτῳ συγκεκλεισμένοι, καὶ σώματος ἀσθενείᾳ παλαίοντες χαλεπῇ, ἀλλ' ὅμως εἰ καὶ πολλαὶ αἱ περιστάσεις, οὐ μικρὰν εἰς παραμυθίαν τῶν κακῶν τούτων τὴν ὑμετέραν ἔχομεν ἀγάπην. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ ὀλίγα ὑμῖν συνεγενόμεθα, ἀλλὰ πολλὴν πεῖραν ὑμῶν τῆς διαθέσεως εἰλήφαμεν, τῆς γνησίας καὶ θερμῆς καὶ μέλιτος γλυκυτέρας, τῆς ἀπεριτρέπτου, τῆς σταθηρᾶς καὶ πεπηγυίας, ἣν καὶ παρόντες καὶ ἀπόντες ἐπιδείκνυσθε. ∆ιὰ ταῦτα καίτοι καὶ πόῤῥωθεν ὑμῶν ὄντες, καὶ τοσούτοις συνεχόμενοι δεινοῖς, ὥσπερ ἐν λιμένι τινὶ τῇ μνήμῃ τῆς ὑμετέρας ἀρετῆς ἐπαναπαυόμεθα, θησαυρὸν μέγιστον τὴν ὑμετέραν ἀγάπην εἶναι νομίζοντες. Τῆς μὲν οὖν χαλεπῆς ἀῤῥωστίας ἀπηλλάγημεν, τοῦ χειμῶνος παρελθόντος, καὶ ἐπιστάντος τοῦ ἦρος, ἔτι δὲ τὰ λείψανα αὐτῆς περιφέρομεν, ἅπερ ἐπιτρίβει τῶν Ἰσαυρικῶν θορύβων ἡ συνέχεια. Ταῦτ' οὖν εἰδότες, καὶ πόῤῥωθεν ὄντες μεμνῆσθαί τε ἡμῶν διηνεκῶς μὴ κατοκνεῖτε, καὶ γράφειν ἡμῖν συνεχῶς, ἡνίκα ἂν ἐξῇ, τὰ περὶ τῆς ὑγιείας τῆς ὑμετέρας εὐαγγελιζόμενοι. ΟΑʹ. Μάλχῳ. Μήτε ἀθύμει, μήτε ἁμαρτίαις λογίζου τὴν καλλίστην ἀποδημίαν τῆς μακαρίας θυγατρός σου. Εἰς γὰρ ἀκύμαντον κατέπλευσε λιμένα, καὶ πρὸς ζωὴν ἦλθε μηκέτι πέρας ἔχουσαν, καὶ