Letter 5: 1. I heard of your unendurable loss, and was much distressed. Three or four days went by, and I was still in some doubt because my informant was not able to give me any clear details of the melancholy event.

To Nectarius 1. I heard about your unbearable loss and was deeply shaken. Three or four days went by and I was still uncertain, because the person who told me could not give clear details of what had happened. While I refused to believe the reports — because I was praying they were not true — a letter arrived from the Bishop confirming every terrible detail. I will not try to describe how I groaned and wept. Who could be so hard-hearted, so truly inhuman, as to be unmoved by what has happened, or feel only moderate grief? He is gone: heir to a noble family, pillar of a household, a father's hope, child of devout parents, raised with countless prayers, in the full bloom of manhood, torn from his father's arms. This is enough to break a heart of stone. It is only natural that I am deeply affected. I have been close to you from the beginning and have made your joys and sorrows my own. Just yesterday, it seemed, you had little to trouble you and life was flowing smoothly. Then in a single moment, through an evil spirit's malice, all the happiness of the house, all the brightness of life, was destroyed and our lives became a story of grief. If we wanted to weep over what happened, a lifetime would not be enough. If all of humanity mourned with us, their lament could not match our loss. 2. But we intend, do we not, to bring out the gift God has stored in our hearts — that sober reason which in good times sets limits on our souls, and when trouble comes reminds us that we are mortal, and points out (as we have seen and heard) that life is full of similar tragedies, that examples of human suffering are not few? Above all, it reminds us of God's command: that those who trust in Christ should not grieve for those who have fallen asleep, because we hope in the resurrection, and that great crowns of glory are stored up by the Master of life's journey for those who show great patience. If we let these wiser thoughts speak to us, we may find some small relief from our grief. So be strong, I beg you. The blow is heavy, but stand firm. Do not collapse under the weight of sorrow. Do not lose heart. Be completely assured of this: although God's reasons are beyond our understanding, whatever He arranges for us — He who is wise and loves us — must be accepted, however hard it is to bear. He alone knows how He appoints what is best for each person, and why the spans of life He assigns are unequal. There is a reason, incomprehensible to us, why some are taken from us sooner and others are left longer to bear the burdens of this painful life. We should always worship His loving-kindness rather than complain, remembering those great and famous words of the great endurer Job, when he saw ten children crushed to death at a single table in a single moment: "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away" (Job 1:21). As the Lord saw fit, so it came to pass. Let us take up those extraordinary words. Those who show the same faithful endurance will receive the same reward from the righteous Judge. We have not lost the boy — we have returned him to the One who lent him. His life is not destroyed; it is changed for the better. The one we love is not buried in the ground; he is received into heaven. Let us wait a little while, and we will be with him again. The time of separation is not long, for in this life we are all travelers on a journey, hurrying toward the same destination. One has already reached his rest, another is arriving, another is still on the road — but the same end awaits us all. He has outrun us on the way, but we will all travel the same road, and the same resting place awaits every one of us. May God grant that through goodness we may share in his purity, so that for the innocence of our lives we may attain the rest that is given to those who are children in Christ.

ST. BASIL OF CAESAREA To Nectarius. 1. I heard of your unendurable loss, and was much distressed. Three or four days went by, and I was still in some doubt because my informant was not able to give me any clear details of the melancholy event. While I was incredulous about what was reported abroad, because I prayed that it might not be true, I received a letter from the Bishop fully confirming the unhappy tidings. I need not tell you how I sighed and wept. Who could be so stony-hearted, so truly inhuman, as to be insensible to what has occurred, or be affected by merely moderate grief? He is gone; heir of a noble house, prop of a family, a father's hope, offspring of pious parents, nursed with innumerable prayers, in the very bloom of manhood, torn from his father's hands. These things are enough to break a heart of adamant and make it feel. It is only natural then that I am deeply touched at this trouble; I who have been intimately connected with you from the beginning and have made your joys and sorrows mine. But yesterday it seemed that you had only little to trouble you, and that your life's stream was flowing prosperously on. In a moment, by a demon's malice, all the happiness of the house, all the brightness of life, is destroyed, and our lives are made a doleful story. If we wish to lament and weep over what has happened, a lifetime will not be enough and if all mankind mourns with us they will be powerless to make their lamentation match our loss. Yes, if all the streams run tears they will not adequately weep our woe. 2. But we mean — do we not?— to bring out the gift which God has stored in our hearts; I mean that sober reason which in our happy days is wont to draw lines of limitation round our souls, and when troubles come about us to recall to our minds that we are but men, and to suggest to us, what indeed we have seen and heard, that life is full of similar misfortunes, and that the examples of human sufferings are not a few. Above all, this will tell us that it is God's command that we who trust in Christ should not grieve over them who are fallen asleep, because we hope in the resurrection; and that in reward for great patience great crowns of glory are kept in store by the Master of life's course. Only let us allow our wiser thoughts to speak to us in this strain of music, and we may perhaps discover some slight alleviation of our trouble. Play the man, then, I implore you; the blow is a heavy one, but stand firm; do not fall under the weight of your grief; do not lose heart. Be perfectly assured of this, that though the reasons for what is ordained by God are beyond us, yet always what is arranged for us by Him Who is wise and Who loves us is to be accepted, be it ever so grievous to endure. He Himself knows how He is appointing what is best for each and why the terms of life that He fixes for us are unequal. There exists some reason incomprehensible to man why some are sooner carried far away from us, and some are left a longer while behind to bear the burdens of this painful life. So we ought always to adore His loving kindness, and not to repine, remembering those great and famous words of the great athlete Job, when he had seen ten children at one table, in one short moment, crushed to death, The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Job 1:21 As the Lord thought good so it came to pass. Let us adopt those marvellous words. At the hands of the righteous Judge, they who show like good deeds shall receive a like reward. We have not lost the lad; we have restored him to the Lender. His life is not destroyed; it is changed for the better. He whom we love is not hidden in the ground; he is received into heaven. Let us wait a little while, and we shall be once more with him. The time of our separation is not long, for in this life we are all like travellers on a journey, hastening on to the same shelter. While one has reached his rest another arrives, another hurries on, but one and the same end awaits them all. He has outstripped us on the way, but we shall all travel the same road, and the same hostelry awaits us all. God only grant that we through goodness may be likened to his purity, to the end that for the sake of our guilelessness of life we may attain the rest which is granted to them that are children in Christ. About this page Source. Translated by Blomfield Jackson. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 8. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1895.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3202005.htm>. Contact information. The editor of New Advent is Kevin Knight. My email address is feedback732 at newadvent.org. (To help fight spam, this address might change occasionally.) Regrettably, I can't reply to every letter, but I greatly appreciate your feedback — especially notifications about typographical errors and inappropriate ads.