Letter 17: Chrysostom reports on winter, illness, medicine, and danger in Armenia, then urges Olympias to treat her body and resist wishing for death under the weight of sickness and grief.

Because of the severity of the winter, the weakness of my stomach, and the Isaurian raids, do not be anxious on my account and do not wear yourself out with cares. The winter has been the kind one expects in Armenia; there is no need to say more. Still, it does not harm us much. Foreseeing these things, we take many precautions against the damage: we keep a fire burning constantly, we close in the little room where we stay on every side, we use many coverings, and we remain indoors all the time. This is burdensome, but the gain makes it bearable. As long as we stay inside, the cold does not afflict us much. If we are forced to go out even a little and come into contact with the outer air, we suffer no small harm. For this reason I urge your honor, and I ask it as a very great favor, to take real care to correct the weakness of your body. Despondency also causes illness; but when the body is already worn out and weakened, lies in great neglect, and has neither physicians, temperate air, nor an abundance of necessities, consider what a serious addition to the trouble this becomes. So I urge your honor to use various experienced physicians and medicines able to correct such things. We ourselves, a few days ago, when the condition of the air made my stomach prone to vomiting, used both other care and the medicine sent by my lady, the most honorable Synkletia. We did not need to apply it for more than three days before we corrected the weakness. I urge you, therefore, to use it yourself and also to have some prepared and sent to us again. When we noticed another relapse, we used it again and corrected the whole trouble. It suppresses deep-seated inflammations, draws up moisture, is moderately warm, gives no ordinary strength, and stimulates the appetite for food. We have learned all this by experience in only a few days. Arrange, then, for my lord, the most venerable Count Theophilus, to be asked to have it made again and sent to us. Do not be grieved that we are spending the winter here. We are in a much easier and healthier condition now than last year. If you also took proper care of yourself, you too would be in a much better state. But if you say that your illnesses are born from despondency, how is it that you keep asking for letters from us, while gaining no cheerfulness from them, but are so sunk under the tyranny of despondency that you now even desire to depart from this life? Do you not know how great a reward is laid up for sickness? Have I not often spoken to you about this, both in person and through letters? But perhaps the multitude of affairs, or the very nature of your sickness, or the events that come one after another do not allow you to keep a lasting memory of what has been said. So listen again as I sing the same things over the wounds of your despondency: "To write the same things to you is not tedious for me, and it is safe for you." What, then, do I say and write? Nothing, Olympias, equals patient endurance in suffering when it is borne for the sake of being tested and approved. This is above all the queen of good things and the crown of crowns. Just as it surpasses other right actions, so within itself this form is brighter than the rest. Perhaps that is unclear; I will make it clearer. I am not speaking only of being stripped of money, even all possessions; or falling from honor; or being driven from one's country and carried into exile; or being worn down with toil and sweat; or living in prison and being bound with a chain; or bearing reproaches, insults, and mockery, though you should not think it a small form of endurance to bear such things nobly. Great and mighty Job shows this. He was not disturbed by that trial as one might expect. Nor am I speaking only of the loss of children, even if all were snatched away at once; or enemies continually attacking; or anything else of that kind. Not even the very summit of things that seem terrible, death itself, so fearful and dreadful, is as heavy as bodily sickness. The greatest athlete of patience shows this. When he fell into bodily sickness, he considered death a release from the terrible things holding him. While he was suffering all the other disasters, he hardly felt them, though he received the blows one after another and the fatal blow last. That too was no small thing, but part of the fiercest malice of the one warring against him: to deliver the fatal blow concerning his children not while Job was fresh or just entering the contest, but after he had already been worn down by the thickness of successive darts. And that blow was made as grievous as possible. His children of both sexes were destroyed all at once, at an untimely age, by a violent end, and the manner of their death became their makeshift tomb. He did not see them lying on a bed. He did not kiss their hands. He did not hear their last words. He did not touch their feet and knees. He did not close their mouths or shut their eyes as they were dying, things that are no small consolation to fathers being separated from their children. Nor did he send some to the tomb and return to find others left as comfort for those who had departed. At a banquet, a banquet abounding not in drunkenness but in family love, at a table of brotherly affection, he heard that all had been buried as they lay on their couches, and that everything had been mixed together: blood, wine, cups, roof, table, dust, and the limbs of his children. Before this, other grievous losses had also come. The flocks and whole herds had been destroyed. The wicked messenger of that tragedy said that some were consumed by fire from above, and that others were suddenly seized by various enemies and cut down along with the shepherds themselves. Yet seeing such a storm stirred up in a brief moment over fields, house, cattle, and children, with waves one after another, continuous reefs, deep darkness, and an unbearable surge, Job was not worn down by despondency. He hardly felt what had happened, except insofar as he was a man and a father. But when he was handed over to sickness and sores, then he sought death, then he lamented and wept, so that you may learn that this is more grievous than all things and the supreme form of endurance. The wicked demon himself knows this. After setting all those things in motion and seeing the athlete remain calm and unshaken, he rushed on him for this greatest contest. He said, in effect, "All other things are bearable, even the loss of a child or possessions. Skin for skin. The vital blow is when someone receives pains in the body." For this very reason, after he was defeated in this contest, he could not even mutter. In the previous matters he had shamelessly contradicted God, but here he could no longer invent anything with impudence. He covered his face and withdrew. Do not think, however, that this excuses you for desiring death because Job desired it when he could not bear the pains. Consider when he desired it and under what conditions: when no law had been given, no prophets had appeared, grace had not yet been poured out in such abundance, and he had not shared in the other teaching now given to us. More is required of us than of those who lived then, and greater contests are set before us. Hear Christ saying, "Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven." Do not think, then, that praying for death now is free from blame. Hear Paul's voice: "To depart and be with Christ is far better, but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for your sake." As afflictions become more intense, the crowns increase. As gold is refined by fire, it becomes purer. As a merchant sails over a longer sea, he gathers more cargo. Do not think that a small contest is now set before you. The highest of all that you have endured is the one concerning bodily sickness. For Lazarus too, even if I have said this to you many times, this alone was enough for salvation. He had done none of the great works of Abraham, who held his house open for travelers, constantly lived as a sojourner because of God's command, and offered his legitimate son, his only son, given in extreme old age. Yet Lazarus went away to Abraham's bosom because he bore poverty, sickness, and the lack of anyone to care for him with ease. So great a good is this for those who bear it nobly that even if it finds someone who has committed the greatest sins, it frees him from the heaviest burden of sins; and if it finds someone who has acted rightly and is just, it becomes an addition of exceedingly great confidence. For the just it is a brilliant crown, shining beyond measure more than the sun. For sinners it is a very great purification. For this reason Paul handed over to the destruction of the flesh the man who violated his father's marriage and defiled his bed, purifying him in that way. To show that this was purification for so great a stain, Paul said, "so that the spirit may be saved in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." And when he brought a very serious charge against those who unworthily partake of the sacred table and those ineffable mysteries, saying that such a person is guilty of the body and blood of the Lord, see how he says that they too are cleansed from this grievous stain: "For this reason many among you are weak and sick." Then, showing that their case will not stop with punishment but that there is gain in it, namely deliverance from the accounting for this sin, he adds, "If we judged ourselves, we would not be judged. But when we are judged, we are disciplined by the Lord, so that we may not be condemned with the world." That those who have achieved great things also gain much from sickness is clear both from Job, who shone more brightly through it, and from Timothy. Timothy was so good, entrusted with such a ministry, and flew about the world with Paul, yet he lived not for two or three days, nor ten or twenty or a hundred, but for many continuous days in sickness, his body greatly weakened. Paul points this out when he says, "Use a little wine for your stomach's sake and your frequent illnesses." The man who raised the dead did not correct Timothy's infirmity, but left him in the furnace of sickness, so that a very great wealth of confidence might be gathered for him from this too. What Paul himself received from the Master and was taught by him, he also taught his disciple. Even if Paul did not fall into sickness, trials no less painful than sickness beat him and caused much pain in his flesh. "There was given to me," he says, "a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to beat me," speaking of blows, bonds, chains, prisons, being dragged away, torn, stretched out, and many times laid out for scourging by executioners. Because he could not bear the pains that arose from this in his flesh, he said, "For this I begged the Lord three times," using "three times" to mean often, "that it might depart from me." When he did not obtain this, and learned the profit in it, he became quiet and was pleased with what was happening. So even if you remain at home and are nailed to your bed, do not think you are living an idle life. You endure things more grievous than those dragged, torn, and stretched by executioners, more grievous than those suffering the final penalties, because you have a perpetual executioner living with you: the excess of this sickness. Therefore do not desire death now, and do not neglect treatment either, for that is not safe. Paul also urges Timothy to take great care of himself. Let this be enough about sickness. If separation from us causes your despondency, expect release from that too. I do not say this merely to comfort you; I know that it will certainly be so. If it were not going to be so, I think I would long ago have departed from here, at least as far as the trials brought against me are concerned. To pass over everything that happened in Constantinople, you can learn how many things I endured on the long and difficult journey from there, many of which were enough to cause death; how many after arriving here; how many after the move from Cucusus; how many during the stay in Arabissus. Yet we have escaped all these things and are now in good health and great safety. All the Armenians are amazed that in such a weak and spiderlike body I bear such intolerable cold and am able to breathe, while even those accustomed to this winter suffer no ordinary things from it. We have remained unharmed to this day. We have escaped the hands of robbers who often attacked. We live with a lack of necessities. We cannot even use a bath, though when we were staying there we constantly needed one. Yet now we have come into such a condition that we do not even desire that comfort, and we have become healthier without it. Hard climate, desolate place, scarcity of provisions, lack of attendants, ignorance of physicians, want of baths, being confined altogether in one dwelling as if in prison, being unable to move about, which I had always continually prayed to do, constant company with smoke and fire, fear of robbers, continuous siege, and all such things have not overcome us. We are in better health than when we were there, though we use much care. Consider all this and drive away the despondency that now possesses you because of these things. Do not exact unnecessary and harsh penalties from yourself. I sent you what I wrote before, the treatise arguing that "No one can harm the person who does not wrong himself." Go over it continually. If you are well, carry it also on your tongue. It will be sufficient medicine for you, if you are willing. But if you contend with us, do not treat yourself, and though you enjoy countless exhortations and consolations are unwilling to recover from the mire of despondency, we will not readily consent to send you frequent and long letters if you gain nothing from them toward cheerfulness. How will we know? Not if you say it, but if you show it by your actions. Even now you said that nothing else but despondency caused this sickness for you. Since you yourself confessed this, if you are not delivered from your illness, we will not be persuaded that you have been delivered from despondency. If this is what causes the sickness, as you yourself wrote, then when it is dissolved the sickness will be destroyed with it. When the root has been pulled up, the branches perish too. So if the branches remain flourishing and vigorous and bearing their ugly fruit, we cannot be persuaded that you have been set free from the root. Do not show me words, then, but deeds. If you are healthy, you will see letters sent to you again, exceeding the measure of words. And do not consider it a small consolation that we are alive, that we are well, and that though we are in so many difficult circumstances we have been delivered from sickness and infirmity, a thing which, as I have learned, greatly grieves and pains our enemies. It is fitting that you too should consider this the greatest consolation and the chief source of comfort. Do not call your company desolate. Through the sufferings it endures, it is now written in heaven even more greatly. I was deeply grieved for Pelagius the monk. Consider, then, how many crowns those who have stood nobly are worthy of, when men who have lived in such great discipline and endurance are seen being dragged down in this way.

17.t ΕΠΙΣΤΟΛΗ ΙΖʹ 17.1 Τῆς σφοδρότητος ἕνεκεν τοῦ χειμῶνος καὶ τῆς τοῦ στομάχου ἡμῶν ἀσθενείας καὶ τῶν Ἰσαυρικῶν καταδρομῶν, μηδὲν ἕνεκεν ἡμῶν μερίμνα μηδὲ κατάτεινε σαυτὴν φροντίσιν. Ὁ μὲν γὰρ χειμὼν γέγονεν οἷον εἰκὸς ἐν Ἀρμενίᾳ εἶναι· οὐδὲν γὰρ δεῖ πλέον εἰπεῖν· ἡμᾶς δὲ οὐ μέγα τι παραβλάπτει. Ταῦτα γὰρ προορῶντες πολλὰ μηχανώμεθα πρὸς τὸ τὴν ἐντεῦθεν διακρούσασθαι βλάβην καὶ πῦρ ἀνακαίοντες συνεχῶς καὶ τὸ δωμάτιον ἔνθα καταμένομεν πανταχόθεν περιφράττοντες καὶ ἐπιβλήμασι κεχρημένοι πλείοσι καὶ διὰ παντὸς ἔνδον μένοντες. Ὅπερ ἐστὶ μὲν ἡμῖν ἐπαχθές, πλὴν διὰ τὸ ἐντεῦθεν κέρδος φορητόν. Ἕως γὰρ ἔνδον μένωμεν, οὐ σφόδρα κατατεινόμεθα τῷ κρυμῷ· ἐὰν δὲ ἀναγκασθῶμεν μικρὸν προελθεῖν καὶ τῷ ἔξω ὁμιλῆσαι ἀέρι, οὐ μικρὰν προστριβόμεθα βλάβην. ∆ιὸ καὶ τὴν τιμιότητά σου παρακαλῶ καὶ ἐν μεγίστης αἰτῶ χάριτος μέρει πολλὴν ποιεῖσθαι ἐπιμέλειαν, ὥστε τὴν τοῦ σώματός σου διορθοῦν ἀσθένειαν. Ποιεῖ μὲν γὰρ νόσον καὶ ἀθυμία· ὅταν δὲ καὶ σῶμα πεπονηκὸς ᾖ καὶ ἐξησθενημένον, καὶ ἐν ἀμελείᾳ κέηται πολλῇ, καὶ μήτε ἰατρῶν ἀπολαύῃ μήτε ἀέρων εὐκρασίας μήτε τῆς τῶν ἐπιτηδείων ἀφθονίας, ἐννόησον ὅτι οὐ μικρὰ ἐντεῦθεν προσθήκη γίνεται τοῦ δεινοῦ. ∆ιὸ παρακαλῶ σου τὴν τιμιότητα καὶ ἰατροῖς διαφόροις καὶ ἐμπείροις καὶ φαρμάκοις χρῆσθαι τοῖς τὰ τοιαῦτα διορθοῦν δυναμένοις. Ἐπεὶ καὶ ἡμεῖς πρὸ τούτων τῶν ὀλίγων ἡμερῶν, εὐεμπτώτως ἡμῖν ἔχοντος τοῦ στομάχου πρὸς τοὺς ἐμέτους ἐκ τῆς τοῦ ἀέρος καταστάσεως τῇ τε ἄλλῃ ἐπιμελείᾳ χρησάμενοι καὶ τῷ φαρμάκῳ τῷ ἀπεσταλμένῳ παρὰ τῆς κυρίας μου τῆς κοσμιωτάτης Συγκλητίου, καὶ οὐ δεηθέντες πλέον ἢ τριῶν ἡμερῶν αὐτὸ ἐπιθεῖναι διωρθώσαμεν αὐτοῦ τὴν ἀσθένειαν. Παρακαλῶ τοίνυν καὶ αὐτήν σε χρήσασθαι τούτῳ καὶ παρασκευάσαι πάλιν ἡμῖν ἐξ αὐτοῦ πεμφθῆναι. Καὶ γὰρ πάλιν αἰσθανόμενοί τινος ἀνατροπῆς, πάλιν αὐτῷ ἐχρησάμεθα καὶ τὸ πᾶν διωρθώσαμεν. Καὶ γὰρ φλεγμονὰς καταστέλλει τὰς ἐν τῷ βάθει, νοτίδα ἀνιμᾶται καὶ συμμέτρως ἐστὶ θερμὸν καὶ τόνον ἐντίθησιν οὐ τὸν τυχόντα καὶ ὄρεξιν διεγείρει τὴν πρὸς τὰ σιτία καὶ τούτων ἁπάντων ἡμῖν ἐν ὀλίγαις ἡμέραις πεῖραν παρέσχεν. Ποίησον τοίνυν παρακληθῆναι τὸν δεσπότην μου τὸν αἰδεσιμώτατον Θεόφιλον τὸν κόμητα, ὥστε πάλιν ἐξ αὐτοῦ κατασκευάσαι ἡμῖν καὶ ἀποστεῖλαι. Καὶ μή σε λυπείτω τὸ ἐνταῦθα ἡμᾶς χειμάζειν· καὶ γὰρ πολλῷ ῥᾷον καὶ ὑγιεινότερον νῦν ἢ πέρυσι διακείμεθα, ὥστε εἰ καὶ αὐτὴ τὴν προσήκουσαν ἐπιμέλειαν ἐποιοῦ, πολλῷ ἂν ἄμεινον διετέθης. Εἰ δὲ ἐξ ἀθυμίας φῂς τετέχθαι σοι τὰ νοσήματα, πῶς πάλιν ἐπιστολὰς ζητεῖς παρ' ἡμῶν μηδὲν ἐντεῦθεν εἰς εὐθυμίαν καρπωσαμένη, ἀλλ' οὕτω τῇ τυραννίδι τῆς ἀθυμίας βαπτισθεῖσα ὡς καὶ ἐπιθυμεῖν νῦν τῆς ἐντεῦθεν ἀποδημίας; Οὐκ οἶσθα ὅσος καὶ ἀρρωστίας κεῖται μισθός; Οὐ πολλάκις σοι καὶ παρὼν καὶ δι' ἐπιστολῶν ταύτης ἕνεκα διείλεγμαι τῆς ὑποθέσεως; Ἀλλ' ἐπειδὴ ἴσως ἢ ὁ τῶν πραγμάτων ὄχλος ἢ αὐτὴ τῆς ἀρρωστίας ἡ φύσις καὶ αἱ ἐπάλληλοι περιστάσεις οὐκ ἐῶσί σε διηνεκῶς ἔναυλον ἔχειν τῶν εἰρημένων τὴν μνήμην, ἄκουε πάλιν τὰ αὐτὰ ἐπᾳ δόντων ἡμῶν τοῖς ἕλκεσί σου τῆς ἀθυμίας· «Τὰ γὰρ αὐτὰ γράφειν, φησίν, ἐμοὶ μὲν οὐκ ὀκνηρόν, ὑμῖν δὲ ἀσφαλές.» 17.2 Τί οὖν καὶ λέγω καὶ γράφω; Οὐδέν, Ὀλυμπιάς, τῆς ἐν ἀλγηδόσιν ὑπομονῆς εἰς εὐδοκιμήσεως λόγον ἴσον. Ἡ γὰρ βασιλὶς τῶν ἀγαθῶν καὶ τῶν στεφάνων ἡ κορωνὶς αὕτη μάλιστά ἐστι· καὶ καθάπερ αὕτη τῶν ἄλλων κρατεῖ κατορθωμάτων, οὕτως ἐν αὐτῇ τοῦτο μάλιστα τὸ εἶδος τῶν ἄλλων ἐστὶ λαμπρότερον. Τάχα ἀσαφὲς τὸ εἰρημένον· οὐκοῦν αὐτὸ ποιήσω σαφέστερον. Τί οὖν ἐστιν ὅ φημι; Οὐ τὸ χρήματα ἀφαιρεθῆναι, κἂν πάντων τις γυμνωθῇ τῶν ὄντων, οὐ τὸ τιμῆς ἐκπεσεῖν, οὐ τὸ πατρίδος ἐκβληθῆναι καὶ πρὸς τὴν ὑπερορίαν ἀπενεχθῆναι, οὐ τὸ πόνῳ καὶ ἱδρῶτι κατατείνεσθαι, οὐ τὸ δεσμωτήριον οἰκεῖν καὶ ἅλυσιν περικεῖσθαι, οὐκ ὀνειδισμοὶ καὶ λοιδορίαι καὶ σκώμματα· μὴ γὰρ μηδὲ τοῦτο μικρὸν νομίσῃς εἶναι καρτερίας εἶδος τὸ γενναίως τὰ τοιαῦτα ἐνεγκεῖν. Καὶ δείκνυσιν ὁ Ἰὼβ ὁ τοσοῦτος καὶ τηλικοῦτος ἀνὴρ οὐχ ὡς ἔτυχεν ὑπὸ τούτου θορυβηθεὶς τοῦ πειρασμοῦ, ἀλλ' οὐδὲ τοῦτο, οὐ παίδων ἀποβολή, κἂν ἀθρόον πάντες ἀναρπασθῶσιν, οὐκ ἐχθροὶ συνεχῶς ἐπεμβαίνοντες, οὐκ ἄλλο τῶν τοιούτων οὐδέν, οὐκ αὐτὸς ὁ κολοφὼν τῶν δοκούντων εἶναι λυπηρῶν, ὁ θάνατος, ὁ φοβερὸς οὕτω καὶ φρικώδης, οὕτως ἐστὶ βαρὺς ὡς σώματος ἀρρωστία. Καὶ ταῦτα δείκνυσιν ὁ μέγιστος τῆς ὑπομονῆς ἀθλητὴς ὅς, ἐπειδὴ σωματικῇ περιέπεσε νόσῳ, ἀπαλλαγὴν τῶν κατεχόντων δεινῶν τὴν τελευτὴν εἶναι ἐνόμισε· καὶ ὅτε μὲν τὰ ἄλλα ἔπασχεν ἅπαντα, οὐδὲ ᾐσθάνετο, καίτοι ἐπαλλήλους δεχόμενος τὰς πληγὰς καὶ τελευταίαν τὴν καιρίαν. Οὐδὲ γὰρ τοῦτο μικρόν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῆς χαλεπωτάτης τοῦ πολεμοῦντος αὐτῷ κακουργίας, τὸ μὴ νεά ζοντι μηδὲ νῦν εἰς τοὺς ἀγῶνας καθιέντι πρῶτον, ἀλλ' ἤδη τῇ πυκνότητι τῶν ἐπαλλήλων βελῶν κατειργασμένῳ, τότε τὴν καιρίαν δοῦναι τὴν ἐπὶ τοῖς παισὶ πληγήν, καὶ ταύτην οὕτω χαλεπῶς ὡς καὶ ἐξ ἑκατέρας τῆς φύσεως καὶ πάντας ἀθρόον, καὶ ἐν ἀώρῳ ἡλικίᾳ καὶ βιαίᾳ τελευτῇ διαφθεῖραι καὶ τοῦ θανάτου τὸν τρόπον ἐσχεδιασμένον αὐτοῖς ἐργάσασθαι τάφον. Οὐδὲ γὰρ εἶδεν ἐν κλίνῃ κειμένους, οὐδὲ ἐφίλησε χεῖρας, οὐδὲ ἐσχάτων ἤκουσε ῥημάτων, οὐδὲ ποδῶν ἥψατο καὶ γονάτων, οὐ στόμα συνεῖλεν, οὐ καθεῖλεν ὀφθαλμοὺς μελλόντων αὐτῶν τελευτᾶν ἅπερ οὐ μικρὰ εἰς παραμυθίαν τοῖς παίδων χωριζομένοις πατράσιν· οὐδὲ τοὺς μὲν προέπεμψεν ἐπὶ τὸν τάφον, τοὺς δὲ ἐπανελθὼν εὗρε παραμυθίαν τῶν ἀπελθόντων· ἀλλ' ἐν καιρῷ συμποσίου, συμποσίου οὐ μέθην, ἀλλ' ἀγάπην βρύοντος, ἐν τραπέζῃ φιλαδελφίας, ἐπὶ στιβάδος κειμένους ἤκουσε πάντας κατακεχῶσθαι καὶ πάντα ὁμοῦ μιγῆναι, τὸ αἷμα, τὸν οἶνον, τὰς κύλικας, τὸν ὄροφον, τὴν τράπεζαν, τὴν κόνιν, τὰ μέλη τῶν παίδων. Ἀλλ' ὅμως ἡνίκα μὲν ταῦτα ἤκουσε, καὶ πρὸ τούτων τὰ ἄλλα καὶ αὐτὰ χαλεπά· καὶ γὰρ κἀκεῖνα χαλεπῶς ἀπολώλει· τά τε ποίμνια καὶ ὁλοκλήρους ἀγέλας, τὰς μὲν ὑπὸ πυρὸς ἄνωθεν κατενεχθέντος ἀνηλῶσθαι ἔλεγεν ὁ πονηρὸς τῆς τραγῳδίας ταύτης ἄγγελος, τὰς δὲ ὑπὸ πολεμίων διαφόρων ἀθρόον πάσας ἀναρπαγῆναι καὶ κατακοπῆναι σὺν αὐτοῖς τοῖς ποιμέσιν. Ἀλλ' ὅμως τοσαύτην ζάλην ἐν βραχείᾳ καιροῦ ῥοπῇ διεγερθεῖσαν ὁρῶν ἐπὶ τῶν ἀγρῶν, ἑπὶ τῆς οἰκίας, ἐπὶ τῶν θρεμμάτων, ἐπὶ τῶν παίδων, ἐπάλληλα τὰ κύματα καὶ τὰς σπιλάδας συνεχεῖς καὶ τὸν ζόφον βαθὺν καὶ τὸ κλυδώνιον ἀφόρητον, οὔτε ἀθυμίᾳ κατετείνετο, οὔτε ᾐσθάνετο σχεδὸν τῶν γεγενημένων πλὴν τοσοῦτον ὅσον ἄνθρωπος ἦν καὶ πατήρ. Ἐπειδὴ δὲ νόσῳ παρεδόθη καὶ ἕλκεσι, τότε καὶ θάνατον ἐπεζήτει, τότε καὶ ἀποδύρεται καὶ θρήνει, ἵνα μάθῃς πῶς τοῦτο πάντων ἐστὶ χαλεπώτερον καὶ τῆς ὑπομονῆς τὸ ἄκρον εἶδος. Καὶ τοῦτο οὐδὲ αὐτὸς ὁ πονηρὸς ἀγνοεῖ δαίμων, ἀλλ' ἐπειδὴ πάντα ἐκεῖνα κινήσας, ἑώρα τὸν ἀθλητὴν ἀτάραχον μένοντα καὶ ἀθόρυβον, ὡς ἐπὶ μέγιστον ἆθλον τοῦτον ὥρμησε λέγων ὅτι «Τὰ μὲν ἄλλα πάντα φορητά, κἂν παῖδά τις ἀποβάλῃ κἂν κτήματα κἂν ἀλλοτιοῦν-τοῦτο γάρ ἐστι· «∆έρμα ὑπὲρ δέρματος»-, ἡ δὲ καιρία πληγή, ὅταν ἐν σώματί τις δέξηται τὰς ὀδύνας.» ∆ιά τοι τοῦτο μετὰ τὸν ἆθλον τοῦτον ἡττηθείς, οὐδὲ γρῦξαι ἔσχεν, εἰ καὶ τὰ μάλιστα καὶ τὰ πρότερα ἀναισχύντως ἀντέλεγεν. Ἐνταῦθα μέντοι οὐδὲ ἀναίσχυντον πλάσαι τι λοιπὸν εὗρεν, ἀλλ' ἐγκαλυψάμενος ἀνεχώρησεν. 17.3 Ἀλλὰ μὴ νόμιζέ σοι τοῦτο ἀπολογίαν εἶναι εἰς τὸ καὶ αὐτῆς ἐπιθυμεῖν τελευτῆς, εἰ ἐκεῖνος ἐπεθύμει θανάτου τὰς ὀδύνας οὐ φέρων. Ἐννόησον γὰρ πότε ἐκεῖνος ἐπεθύμει καὶ πῶς τῶν πραγμάτων διακειμένων, οὐ νόμου δοθέντος, οὐ προφητῶν φανέντων, οὐ τῆς χάριτος οὕτως ἐκχυθείσης οὐδὲ ἄλλης φιλοσοφίας μετασχών. Ὅτι γὰρ ἡμεῖς τῶν τότε πολιτευομένων πλείονα ἀπαιτούμεθα καὶ μείζονα ἡμῖν κεῖται τὰ σκάμματα, ἄκουσον τοῦ Χριστοῦ λέγοντος· «Ἐὰν μὴ περισσεύσῃ ἡ δικαιοσύνη ὑμῶν πλέον τῶν γραμματέων καὶ Φαρισαίων, οὐ μὴ εἰσέλθητε εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τῶν οὐρανῶν.» Μὴ τοίνυν τὸ εὔχεσθαι νῦν τελευτὴν ἀπηλλάχθαι ἐγκλήματος νόμιζε, ἀλλ' ἄκουε τῆς τοῦ Παύλου φωνῆς τῆς λεγούσης· «Τὸ ἀναλῦσαι καὶ σὺν Χριστῷ εἶναι πολλῷ μᾶλλον κρεῖσσον, τὸ δὲ ἐπιμεῖναι τῇ σαρκὶ ἀναγκαιότερον δι' ὑμᾶς.» Ὅσῳ γὰρ ἂν ἐπιτείνηται τὰ τῆς θλίψεως, τοσούτῳ πλεονάζει καὶ τὰ τῶν στεφάνων· ὅσῳ ἂν πυρωθῇ τὸ χρυσίον, τοσούτῳ καθαρώτερον γίνεται· ὅσῳ μακρότερον ἂν πλεύσῃ πέλαγος ἔμπορος, τοσούτῳ πλείονα συνάγει τὰ φορτία. Μὴ τοίνυν νομίσῃς μικρόν σοι προκεῖσθαι νῦν ἆθλον, ἀλλὰ πάντων ὧν ὑπομεμένηκας τὸν ὑψηλότερον τὸν ἐπὶ τῇ τοῦ σώματος ἀρρωστίᾳ λέγω. Καὶ γὰρ καὶ τῷ Λαζάρῳ-εἰ γὰρ καὶ πολλάκις τοῦτο εἴρηκα πρὸς σέ, οὐδὲν κωλύει καὶ νῦν εἰπεῖν-, ἤρκεσε τοῦτο εἰς σωτηρίαν· καὶ τοῦ κοινὴν τὴν οἰκίαν τοῖς παριοῦσι κεκτημένου καὶ μετανάστου συνεχῶς γινομένου διὰ τὸ τοῦ Θεοῦ πρόσταγμα καὶ τὸν υἱὸν κατασφάξαντος τὸν γνήσιον, τὸν μονογενῆ, τὸν ἐν ἐσχάτῳ γήρᾳ δοθέντα, ὁ μηδὲν τούτων πεποιηκὼς εἰς τοὺς κόλπους ἀπῄει, ἐπειδὴ ἤνεγκεν εὐκόλως πενίαν καὶ ἀρρωστίαν καὶ τὴν τῶν προστησομένων ἐρημίαν. Τοσοῦτον γάρ ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν τοῦτο τοῖς γενναίως φέρουσι ὅτι κἂν τὰ μέγιστα ἡμαρτηκότα τινὰ εὕρῃ, ἀπαλλάττει τοῦ βαρυτάτου τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων φορτίου· κἂν κατωρθωκότα καὶ δίκαιον ὄντα, οὐ μικρᾶς ἀλλὰ καὶ σφόδρα μεγίστης παρρησίας γίνεται προσθήκη. Καὶ γὰρ καὶ στέφανός ἐστι λαμπρὸς ἐπὶ τῶν δικαίων, καὶ ὑπὲρ τὸν ἥλιον μεθ' ὑπερβολῆς λάμπων, καὶ καθάρσιον μέγιστον ἐπὶ τῶν ἡμαρτηκότων. ∆ιά τοι τοῦτο τὸν διορύξαντα γάμον πατρῷον καὶ τὴν εὐνὴν διαφθείραντα τὴν ἐκείνου εἰς ὄλεθρον τῆς σαρκὸς παραδίδωσιν ὁ Παῦλος, τούτῳ καθαίρων αὐτὸν τῷ τρόπῳ. Ὅτι γὰρ καθάρσιον τὸ γινόμενον ἦν τῆς τοσαύτης κηλῖδος, ἄκουσον αὐτοῦ λέγοντος· «Ἵνα τὸ πνεῦμα σωθῇ ἐν τῇ ἡμέρᾳ τοῦ Κυρίου ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ.» Καὶ ἑτέροις δὲ ἐγκαλῶν φρικωδεστάτην ἑτέραν ἁμαρτίαν τοῖς τῆς ἱερᾶς τραπέζης ἀναξίως ἀπολαύουσι καὶ τῶν ἀπορρήτων μυστηρίων ἐκείνων καὶ εἰπὼν ὅτι ὁ τοιοῦτος «ἔνοχος ἔσται τοῦ σώματος καὶ τοῦ αἵματος τοῦ Κυρίου», ὅρα πῶς φησι καὶ αὐτοὺς καθαίρεσθαι τῆς χαλεπῆς ταύτης κηλῖδος οὕτω λέγων· «∆ιὰ τοῦτο ἐν ὑμῖν πολλοὶ ἀσθενεῖς καὶ ἄρρωστοι.» Εἶτα δεικνὺς ὅτι οὐ μέχρι τῆς τιμωρίας ταύτης στήσεται τὰ ἐκείνων, ἀλλ' ἔσται τι κέρδος ἀπὸ τοῦ πράγματος τὸ τῶν εὐθυνῶν τῶν ἐπὶ τῇ ἁμαρτίᾳ ταύτῃ ἀπαλλαγῆναι ἐπήγαγεν· «Εἰ γὰρ ἑαυτοὺς ἐκρίνομεν, οὐκ ἂν ἐκρινόμεθα. Νῦν δὲ κρινόμενοι, ὑπὸ Κυρίου παιδευόμεθα, ἵνα μὴ σὺν τῷ κόσμῳ κατακριθῶμεν.» Ὅτι δὲ καὶ οἱ τὰ μεγάλα κατωρθωκότες ἐντεῦθεν πολλὰ κερδαίνουσιν, ἀπό τε τοῦ Ἰὼβ δῆλον μειζόνως ἐντεῦθεν λάμψαντος, ἀπό τε τοῦ Τιμοθέου ὃς οὕτω καλὸς ὢν καὶ τοιαύτην διακονίαν ἐγκεχειρισμένος καὶ συμπεριιπτάμενος Παύλῳ τὴν οἰκουμένην, οὐ δύο καὶ τρεῖς ἡμέρας, οὐδὲ δέκα καὶ εἴκοσι καὶ ἑκατόν, ἀλλὰ πολλὰς καὶ συνεχεῖς ἐν ἀρρωστίᾳ ἔζη, τοῦ σώματος αὐτῷ μετὰ πολλῆς τῆς σφοδρότητος ἐξησθενημένου. Καὶ τοῦτο δηλῶν ὁ Παῦλος ἔλεγεν· «Οἴνῳ ὀλίγῳ χρῶ διὰ τὸν στόμαχόν σου καὶ τὰς πυκνάς σου ἀσθενείας.» Καὶ οὐ διώρθωσεν αὐτοῦ τὴν ἀσθένειαν ὁ νεκροὺς ἐγείρων, ἀλλ' ἀφῆκεν εἶναι ἐν τῇ καμίνῳ τῆς νόσου, ὥστε μέγιστον αὐτῷ καὶ ἐντεῦθεν συναχθῆναι παρρησίας πλοῦτον. Ὧν γὰρ αὐτὸς ἀπολέλαυκε παρὰ τοῦ ∆εσπότου, καὶ ἅπερ ἐπαιδεύθη παρ' ἐκείνου, ταῦτα καὶ τὸν μαθητὴν ἐδίδασκεν. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ μὴ ἀρρωστίᾳ περιέπιπτεν, ἀλλ' ἀρρωστίας οὐκ ἔλαττον πειρασμοῖς αὐτὸν κολαφίζουσι καὶ πολλὴν ὀδύνην ἐπιφέρουσι τῇ σαρκί. «Ἐδόθη γάρ μοι, φησί, σκόλοψ τῇ σαρκί, ἄγγελος Σατᾶν, ἵνα με κολαφίζῃ», τὰς πληγὰς λέγων, τὰ δεσμά, τὰς ἁλύσεις, τὰ δεσμωτήρια, τὸ ἄγεσθαι, σπαράττεσθαι, κατατείνεσθαι, προτείνεσθαι μάστιξιν ὑπὸ δημίων πολλάκις. ∆ιὸ καὶ μὴ φέρων τὰς ὀδύνας τὰς ἐντεῦθεν τῇ σαρκὶ προσγινομένας ἔλεγεν· «Ὑπὲρ τούτου τρὶς τὸν Κύριον παρεκάλεσα- τρὶς ἐνταῦθα τὸ πολλάκις λέγων -ὥστε ἐλευθερωθῆναι τοῦ σκόλοπος τούτου.» Εἶτα ἐπειδὴ οὐκ ἐπέτυχε, μαθὼν τοῦ πράγματος τὸ κέρδος καὶ ἡσύχασε καὶ ἥσθη τοῖς γινομένοις. Καὶ σὺ τοίνυν κἂν οἴκοι μένῃς καὶ τῇ κλίνῃ προσηλωμένη ἦς, μὴ νόμιζε ἀργὸν βίον ζῇν· τῶν γὰρ ὑπὸ δημίων ἑλκομένων, σπαραττομένων, τεινομένων, τῶν τὰ ἔσχατα πασχόντων χαλεπώτερα ὑπομένεις δήμιον διηνεκῆ καὶ σύνοικον ἔχουσα, τῆς ἀρρωστίας ταύτης τὴν ὑπερβολήν. Μὴ τοίνυν μήτε τελευτῆς ἐπιθύμει νῦν, μήτε ἀμέλει θεραπείας· οὐδὲ γὰρ τοῦτο ἀσφαλές. ∆ιὰ τοῦτο καὶ Τιμοθέῳ παραινεῖ σφόδρα ἐπιμελεῖσθαι ἑαυτοῦ ὁ Παῦλος. Τῆς μὲν οὖν ἀρρωστίας ἕνεκεν ἀρκεῖ ταῦτα εἰπεῖν. 17.4 Εἰ δὲ τὸ κεχωρίσθαι ἡμῶν ποιεῖ σοι τὴν ἀθυμίαν, προσδόκα καὶ τούτου λύσιν. Καὶ τοῦτο οὐχ ἵνα παρακαλέσω σε, εἶπον νῦν, ἀλλ' οἶδα ὅτι πάντως ἔσται. Εἰ γὰρ μὴ ἔμελλεν ἔσεσθαι, πάλαι ἄν, ὡς ἔγωγε οἶμαι, ἀπεληλύθειν ἐντεῦθεν τό γε ἧκον εἰς τοὺς ἐπενεχθέντας μοι πειρασμούς. Ἵνα γὰρ τὰ ἐν Κωνσταντινουπόλει παρῶ πάντα, μετὰ τὴν ἐκεῖθεν ἔξοδον, ἔξεστι μαθεῖν ὅσα κατὰ τὴν ὁδὸν τὴν μακρὰν ταύτην καὶ χαλεπὴν ὧν τὰ πλείω ἱκανὰ ἦν θάνατον τεκεῖν ὑπομεμένηκα, ὅσα μετὰ τὴν ἐνταῦθα ἄφιξιν, ὅσα μετὰ τὴν μετανάστασιν τὴν ἀπὸ Κουκουσοῦ, ὅσα μετὰ τὴν ἐν Ἀραβισσῷ διατριβήν. Ἀλλὰ ταῦτα πάντα διεφύγομεν καὶ νῦν ἐσμεν ἐν ὑγιείᾳ καὶ ἀσφαλείᾳ πολλῇ, ὡς καὶ Ἀρμενίους πάντας ἐκπλήττεσθαι ὅτι ἐν οὕτως ἀσθενεῖ σώματι καὶ ἀραχνώδει οὕτως ἀφόρητον φέρω κρυμόν, ὅτι ἀναπνεῖν δύναμαι, τῶν ἐθάδων τοῦ χειμῶνος οὐ τὰ τυχόντα ἐντεῦθεν πασχόντων. Ἀλλ' ἡμεῖς ἐμείναμεν ἀβλαβεῖς μέχρι τῆς σήμερον, καὶ λῃστῶν χεῖρας διαφυγόντες πολλάκις ἐπελθόντων καὶ ἀπορίᾳ ἀναγκαίων συζῶντες καὶ μηδὲ βαλανείῳ χρῆσθαι δυνάμενοι· καίτοι ἡνίκα αὐτόθι διετρίβομεν, συνεχῶς τούτου δεόμενοι, νῦν δὲ ἐν τοσαύτῃ ἕξει κατέστημεν ὡς μηδὲ ἐπιθυμεῖν τῆς ἐντεῦθεν παραμυθίας, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑγιεινότεροι ταύτῃ γενέσθαι. Καὶ οὔτε ἀέρων δυσκολία, οὐ τόπων ἐρημία, οὐκ ὠνίων στενοχωρία, οὐ τῶν θεραπευσόντων ἐρημία, οὐκ ἰατρῶν ἀμαθία, οὐ βαλανείων ἀπορία, οὐ τὸ διόλου, καθάπερ ἐν δεσμωτηρίῳ, ἐν ἑνὶ οἰκήματι καθεῖρχθαι, οὐ τὸ μὴ κινεῖσθαι οὗπερ ἀεὶ συνεχῶς ἐδεόμην, οὐ τὸ καπνῷ καὶ πυρὶ διηνεκῶς ὁμιλεῖν, οὐ λῃστῶν φόβος, οὐ πολιορκία διηνεκής, οὐκ ἄλλο τῶν τοιούτων οὐδὲν ἡμῶν περιγέγονεν· ἀλλ' ὑγιεινότερον διακείμεθα ἢ αὐτόθι ἦμεν πολλῇ μέντοι κεχρημένοι τῇ ἐπιμελείᾳ. Ταῦτα οὖν ἅπαντα λογιζομένη διακρούου τὴν κατέχουσάν σε νῦν ὑπὲρ τούτων ἀθυμίαν καὶ μὴ σαυτὴν ἀπαίτει δίκας περιττὰς καὶ χαλεπάς. Ἔπεμψά σοι ἅπερ ἔγραψα πρώην ὅτι «Τὸν ἑαυτὸν οὐκ ἀδικοῦντα οὐδεὶς ἕτερος παραβλάψαι δυνήσεται», καὶ τοῦτον ἠγωνίσατο τὸν ἀγῶνα ὁ λόγος ὃν ἀπέσταλκά σου τῇ τιμιότητι νῦν. Συνεχῶς δὴ οὖν αὐτὸν ἐπέρχου· εἰ δὲ ὑγιαίνοις, καὶ ἐπὶ γλώσσης φέρε. Ἱκανὸν γὰρ ἔσται σοι φάρμακον, ἐὰν θέλῃς. Εἰ δὲ φιλονεικοίης ἡμῖν καὶ μήτε θεραπεύοις σαυτήν, μήτε μυρίας ἀπολαύουσα παραινέσεώς τε καὶ παρακλήσεως βουληθείης ἀνενεγκεῖν ἐκ τῶν τελμάτων τῆς ἀθυμίας, οὐ ῥᾳδίως οὐδὲ ἡμεῖς ὑπακουσόμεθα πρὸς τὸ πυκνάς σοι καὶ μακρὰς πέμπειν ἐπιστολάς, εἰ μηδὲν μέλλοις ἐντεῦθεν κερδαίνειν εἰς εὐθυμίαν. Πῶς οὖν τοῦτο εἰσόμεθα; Οὐκ ἐὰν λέγῃς, ἀλλ' ἐὰν διὰ τῶν πραγμάτων δεικνύῃς, ἐπεὶ καὶ νῦν ἔφης μηδὲν τῶν ἄλλων, ἀλλὰ τὴν ἀθυμίαν σοι τὴν νόσον εἰργάσθαι ταύτην. Ἐπεὶ οὖν αὐτὴ τοῦτο ὡμολόγησας, ἂν μὴ τῆς ἀρρωστίας ἀπαλλαγῇς, οὐ πεισόμεθα ὅτι καὶ τῆς ἀθυμίας ἀπήλλαξαι. Εἰ γὰρ αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ τὴν νόσον ποιοῦσα, καθὼς καὶ αὐτὴ ἐπέσταλκας, εὔδηλον ὅτι λυθείσης αὐτῆς κἀκείνη συναναιρεθήσεται, καὶ τῆς ῥίζης ἀνασπασθείσης καὶ οἱ ταύτης συναπόλλυνται κλάδοι. Ὡς ἐὰν μένωσιν ἀνθοῦντες καὶ ἀκμάζοντες καὶ καρπὸν φέροντες τὸν οὐ πρέποντα, οὐ δυνάμεθα πεισθῆναι ὅτι τῆς ῥίζης ἠλευθέρωσαι. Μὴ τοίνυν μοι ῥήματα ἀλλὰ πράγματα δεῖξον, κἂν ὑγιαίνῃς, ὄψει πάλιν ἐπιστολὰς πεμπομένας σοι λόγων ὑπερβαινούσας μέτρον. Μὴ δὲ μικρὰν νόμιζέ σοι παράκλησιν εἶναι ὅτι ζῶμεν, ὅτι ὑγιαίνομεν, ὅτι ἐν τοσαύταις πραγμάτων ὄντες περιστάσεσιν νόσου καὶ ἀρρωστίας ἀπηλλάγμεθα, ὃ τοὺς ἐχθροὺς ἡμῶν, ὡς ἔγνων, σφόδρα λυπεῖ καὶ ὀδυνᾷ. Ἀκόλουθον οὖν καὶ ὑμᾶς μεγίστην ταύτην ἡγεῖσθαι παράκλησιν καὶ κεφάλαιον παραμυθίας. Μὴ κάλει τὴν συνοδίαν σου ἔρημον τὴν νῦν μειζόνως ἐν οὐρανοῖς ἐγγεγραμμένην διὰ τῶν παθημάτων ὧν ὑπομένει. Σφόδρα ἤλγησα ὑπὲρ Πελαγίου τοῦ μονάζοντος. Ἐννόησον τοίνυν ὅσων ἄξιοι στεφάνων εἰσὶν οἱ γενναίως στάντες, ὅταν ἄνδρες ἐν τοσαύτῃ ἀσκήσει διαγαγόντες καὶ καρτερίᾳ οὕτω φανῶσιν ὑποσυρόμενοι.