John Chrysostom, Letters

Having engraved your memory on our mind, we carry it everywhere. And now we are very grateful to you, because you both received the good monk with the goodwill befitting you, and you have made more gentle those wishing to contend with him unseasonably. Therefore, I was not speaking in vain, nor flattering you, when I said that even if ten thousand waves should arise from every side, your affairs are in a calm. For those who so easily put an end to the shipwrecks of others, it is clear that you stand far from the surging waves. Indeed, write to us continually about your health. For you know how very eager we are to learn this. For your letters, which announce your well-being to us, have such power that, even though we are surrounded by so many terrible things—wars, tumults, disturbances, daily deaths—whenever we receive such letters from you, we are lifted up by pleasure and from them reap the greatest consolation. For such is it to love genuinely, that even through letters bearing such good news, those separated in body can easily be recovered. 67. To Theodotus the deacon. You yourself, my most honored and devout lord, have at least been delivered from the evils in Armenia; but we, amidst the tumults here—or rather, the daily deaths—are grieved in no small measure both at being separated from your sweetness and from your genuine and sincere disposition. And another addition to this grief has occurred: your long, careful silence. For since you departed from here, this is only the second letter we have received; and I say this not to reproach, but in pain. For that the road leading here is impassable for travelers, no one is ignorant; but while this would suffice for your defense, it is by no means a consolation for us; but indeed, for this very reason we are especially pained, because we have been deprived even of this, the remaining solace for your absence. Since, therefore, this difficulty cannot for the present be resolved, but the terrible things intensify each day, I beg you to console in another way the despondency that arises in us from your long silence, by remembering us continually, and, whenever you write, making your letters longer, and dwelling on the accounts of your health, cheerfulness, and safety. For in this way you will be able to compensate for the deficiency of time by the length of the letters. 68. To the same. This too is from you, our most fervent and ardent admirer. After reading the first letter, I received a second also, both on the same day, and I was exceedingly pleased. For the second had something more, displaying to us not only your words, but also your handwriting; which has also made an addition to our pleasure, because we have beheld abundantly the image not only of your warm and genuine soul, but also of your right hand. Do this continually, then, and provide abundantly the consolation which you yourself devised for us in this way. For we no longer dare to draw you here; so great are the evils of Armenia, and another storm has succeeded them all. For wherever one may go, one will see torrents of blood, a multitude of dead bodies, houses torn down, cities destroyed. And we seem to be in safety as in a harsh prison, shut up in this fortress; yet we are not able to enjoy freedom from fear, because of the daily terrors, because of the reports full of deaths, because of the continually expected attack of the Isaurians, because of the weakness of body with which we are still struggling. But nevertheless, even being in such great evils, we reap no small consolation even in such a circumstance, whenever we receive the letters that bring us the good news about your health. 69. To Nicolaus the presbyter. This also is a mark of your genuine and warm love, that sitting at so great a distance you tremble for our safety. Formerly, then, changing places from places in the very height of winter, we spent our time now in cities, now in ravines and glens,

ἐγκολάψαντες ἡμῶν τῇ διανοίᾳ τὴν μνήμην τὴν ὑμετέραν πανταχοῦ περιφέρομεν. Καὶ νῦν δὲ χάριν ὑμῖν ἴσμεν πολλὴν, ὅτι τὸν καλὸν μοναχὸν καὶ μετὰ τῆς πρεπούσης ὑμῖν εὐνοίας ὑπεδέξασθε, καὶ τοὺς βουλομένους ἀκαίρως πρὸς αὐτὸν φιλονεικεῖν ἡμερωτέρους πεποιήκατε. Οὐκ ἄρα μάτην ἔλεγον, οὐδὲ κολακεύων ὑμᾶς, ὅτι κἂν μυρία πανταχόθεν ἐγείρηται κύματα, ἐν γαλήνῃ τὰ ὑμέτερα. Οἱ γὰρ οὕτω ῥᾳδίως ἑτέροις ναυάγια διαλύοντες, εὔδηλον ὅτι πόῤῥω τῶν κλυδωνίων ἑστήκατε. Γράφετε δὴ συνεχῶς ἡμῖν τὰ περὶ τῆς ὑγιείας τῆς ὑμετέρας. Ἴστε γὰρ ὅπως ἡμῖν περισπούδαστον τοῦτο μανθάνειν. Τοσαύτην γὰρ ἔχει τὴν ἰσχὺν τὰ γράμματα ὑμῶν, τὰ τὴν ῥῶσιν ὑμῶν ἡμῖν ἀπαγγέλλοντα, ὅτι καὶ τοσούτοις περιεστοιχισμένοι δεινοῖς, πολέμοις, θορύβοις, ταραχαῖς, θανάτοις καθημερινοῖς, ἡνίκα ἂν τοσαύτας ὑμῶν δεξώμεθα ἐπιστολὰς, καὶ ἀναπτερούμεθα ὑπὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς, καὶ μεγίστην ἐντεῦθεν καρπούμεθα τὴν παραμυθίαν. Τοιοῦτον γὰρ τὸ φιλεῖν γνησίως, ὡς καὶ διὰ γραμμάτων δύνασθαι τῶν τὰ τοιαῦτα εὐαγγέλια ἐχόντων τοὺς τῷ σώματι κεχωρισμένους ἀνακτᾶσθαι ῥᾳδίως. ΞΖʹ. Θεοδότῳ διακόνῳ. Αὐτὸς μὲν, κύριέ μου τιμιώτατε καὶ εὐλαβέστατε, τῶν γοῦν ἐν Ἀρμενίᾳ ἀπηλλάγης κακῶν, ἡμᾶς δὲ μετὰ τῶν ἐνταῦθα θορύβων, μᾶλλον δὲ τῶν θανάτων τῶν καθημερινῶν, οὐχ ὡς ἔτυχε λυπεῖ καὶ τὸ τῆς σῆς κεχωρίσθαι γλυκύτητος, καὶ τῆς γνησίας καὶ εἰλικρινοῦς διαθέσεως. Γέγονε δὲ καὶ ἑτέρα λύπης ταύτης προσθήκη, ἡ μακρά σου τῆς ἐμμελείας σιγή. Ἐξ οὗ γὰρ ἐντεῦθεν ἀπῆρας, δευτέραν ταύτην ἐδεξάμεθα μόνην ἐπιστολήν· καὶ ταῦτα οὐκ ἐγκαλῶν λέγω, ἀλλ' ἀλγῶν. Ὅτι μὲν γὰρ ἄβατος ὁδοιπόροις ἡ ἐνταῦθα φέρουσα ὁδὸς, οὐδεὶς ἀγνοεῖ· ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μὲν εἰς ἀπολογίαν σὴν ἀποχρῶν ἂν εἴη, εἰς δὲ ἡμετέραν παραμυθίαν οὐδαμῶς· ἀλλὰ καὶ δι' αὐτὸ μὲν οὖν τοῦτο μάλιστα ἀλγοῦμεν, ὅτι καὶ τὴν λειπομένην ἡμῖν παραψυχὴν τῆς ἀποδημίας τῆς σῆς καὶ ταύτην ἀφῃρήμεθα. Ἐπεὶ οὖν τοῦτο λυθῆναι τέως οὐκ ἔνι τὸ ἄπορον, ἀλλ' ἐπιτείνεται καθ' ἑκάστην ἡμέραν τὰ δεινὰ, ἑτέρῳ τρόπῳ τὴν ἐκ τῆς μακρᾶς σιγῆς ἀθυμίαν ἐγγινομένην ἡμῖν παραμυθήσασθαι παρακλήθητι, μεμνημένος τε ἡμῶν διηνεκῶς, καὶ ἡνίκα ἂν γράφῃς, μακροτέρας ποιῶν τὰς ἐπιστολὰς, καὶ τοῖς περὶ τῆς σῆς ὑγείας τε καὶ εὐθυμίας καὶ ἀσφαλείας ἐνδιατρίβων διηγήμασιν. Οὕτω γὰρ δυνήσῃ τὸ λεῖπον ἡμῖν ἐκ τοῦ χρόνου, ἐκ τοῦ μήκους παραμυθήσασθαι τῶν ἐπιστολῶν. ΞΗʹ. Τῷ αὐτῷ. Καὶ τοῦτο σὸν τοῦ θερμοτάτου καὶ σφοδροῦ ἡμῶν ἐραστοῦ. Μετὰ μὲν τὸ τὴν προτέραν ἀναγνῶναι ἐπιστολὴν, ἐδεξάμην καὶ δευτέραν, ἐν μιᾷ ἀμφοτέρας ἡμέρᾳ, καὶ σφόδρα ἥσθην. Εἶχε γάρ τι πλέον ἡ δευ52.646 τέρα, οὐχὶ ῥήματα σὰ μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ γράμματα σὰ ἡμῖν ἐπιδεικνῦσα· ὃ καὶ προσθήκην ἡμῖν πεποίηκεν ἡδονῆς, ὅτι μὴ τῆς ψυχῆς σου μόνον τῆς θερμῆς καὶ γνησίας, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῆς δεξιᾶς μετὰ δαψιλείας τὴν εἰκόνα ἐθεασάμεθα. Ποίει δὴ τοῦτο συνεχῶς, καὶ τὴν παραμυθίαν, ἣν αὐτὸς ἡμῖν καὶ τοῦτον ἐπενόησας τὸν τρόπον, μετὰ δαψιλείας πάρεχε. Ἐνταῦθα γάρ σε ἑλκύσαι λοιπὸν οὐ τολμῶμεν· τοσαῦτα τῆς Ἀρμενίας τὰ κακὰ, καὶ χειμὼν ἕτερος ἅπαντα διεδέξατο. Ὅπου γὰρ ἄν τις ἀφίκηται, χειμάῤῥους αἱμάτων, πλῆθος σωμάτων νεκρῶν, οἰκίας κατεσκαμμένας, πόλεις ἀνηρημένας ὄψεται. Ἡμεῖς δὲ δοκοῦμεν ἐν ἀσφαλείᾳ εἶναι ὥσπερ ἐν δεσμωτηρίῳ χαλεπῷ, τῷ φρουρίῳ τούτῳ κατακεκλεισμένοι· οὐ μὴν ἀδείας ἀπολαύειν δυνάμεθα, διὰ τοὺς καθημερινοὺς φόβους, διὰ τὰς φήμας τῶν θανάτων γεμούσας, διὰ τὴν συνεχῶς προσδοκωμένην τῶν Ἰσαύρων ἔφοδον, διὰ τὴν τοῦ σώματος, ᾗ μέχρι νῦν προσπαλαίομεν, ἀσθένειαν. Ἀλλ' ὅμως καὶ ἐν τοσούτοις ὄντες κακοῖς, οὐ μικρὰν καὶ ἐν τοσαύτῃ περιστάσει καρπούμεθα παραμυθίαν, ὅταν τὰ περὶ τῆς ὑγιείας τῆς σῆς εὐαγγελιζόμενα ἡμᾶς δεχώμεθα γράμματα. ΞΘʹ. Νικολάῳ πρεσβυτέρῳ. Καὶ τοῦτο τῆς 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,