Letter 2: How I long to be a member of your company, and with uplifting of all my powers to embrace your admirable community! Though, indeed, these poor eyes are not worthy to look upon it. Oh!
Jerome→Emperor Theodosius I|c. 370 AD|jerome
illnessimperial politicsmonasticism
Miracles & relics
To Theodosius and the Desert Monks
How I long to join your company -- to throw myself with all my strength into the embrace of your extraordinary community! Though honestly, these sinful eyes of mine don't deserve to look upon it. If only I could see the desert, which is lovelier to me than any city! If only I could see those solitary places transformed into paradise by the saints who fill them! But my sins bar me from thrusting into your blessed fellowship a head weighed down with every transgression. So I beg you -- and I know you have the power to do it -- deliver me by your prayers from the darkness of this world. I said this when I was with you in person, and now in writing I make the same request all over again, because every ounce of my mental energy is bent on this one thing. It's up to you to make my resolve a reality. I have the will but not the power; the power can only come through your prayers.
I'm like a sick sheep that has wandered from the flock. Unless the Good Shepherd hoists me onto his shoulders and carries me back to the fold, my legs will buckle, and the very effort of standing up will bring me down again. I am the prodigal son who has squandered everything his father entrusted to him but hasn't yet knelt in submission, hasn't yet begun to strip away the seductions of my former life. And because it's only been a short time since I began -- not so much to abandon my vices as to want to abandon them -- the devil now traps me in fresh snares, throws new obstacles across my path, and hems me in on every side.
The sea all around me, and nothing but sea.
I find myself in the middle of the ocean, unwilling to turn back and unable to go forward. All that's left is for your prayers to summon the gale of the Holy Spirit and blow me into harbor on the shore I long for.
To Theodosius and the Rest of the Anchorites
Written from Antioch, 374 A.D., while Jerome was still in doubt as to his future course. Theodosius appears to have been the head of the solitaries in the Syrian Desert.
How I long to be a member of your company, and with uplifting of all my powers to embrace your admirable community! Though, indeed, these poor eyes are not worthy to look upon it. Oh! That I could behold the desert, lovelier to me than any city! Oh! That I could see those lonely spots made into a paradise by the saints that throng them! But since my sins prevent me from thrusting into your blessed company a head laden with every transgression, I adjure you (and I know that you can do it) by your prayers to deliver me from the darkness of this world. I spoke of this when I was with you, and now in writing to you I repeat anew the same request; for all the energy of my mind is devoted to this one object. It rests with you to give effect to my resolve. I have the will but not the power; this last can only come in answer to your prayers. For my part, I am like a sick sheep astray from the flock. Unless the good Shepherd shall place me on his shoulders and carry me back to the fold, Luke 15:3-5 my steps will totter, and in the very effort of rising I shall find my feet give way. I am the prodigal son Luke 15:11-32 who although I have squandered all the portion entrusted to me by my father, have not yet bowed the knee in submission to him; not yet have I commenced to put away from me the allurements of my former excesses. And because it is only a little while since I have begun not so much to abandon my vices as to desire to abandon them, the devil now ensnares me in new toils, he puts new stumbling-blocks in my path, he encompasses me on every side.
The seas around, and all around the main.
I find myself in mid-ocean, unwilling to retreat and unable to advance. It only remains that your prayers should win for me the gale of the Holy Spirit to waft me to the haven upon the desired shore.
About this page
Source. Translated by W.H. Fremantle, G. Lewis and W.G. Martley. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 6. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1893.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3001002.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.
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To Theodosius and the Desert Monks
How I long to join your company -- to throw myself with all my strength into the embrace of your extraordinary community! Though honestly, these sinful eyes of mine don't deserve to look upon it. If only I could see the desert, which is lovelier to me than any city! If only I could see those solitary places transformed into paradise by the saints who fill them! But my sins bar me from thrusting into your blessed fellowship a head weighed down with every transgression. So I beg you -- and I know you have the power to do it -- deliver me by your prayers from the darkness of this world. I said this when I was with you in person, and now in writing I make the same request all over again, because every ounce of my mental energy is bent on this one thing. It's up to you to make my resolve a reality. I have the will but not the power; the power can only come through your prayers.
I'm like a sick sheep that has wandered from the flock. Unless the Good Shepherd hoists me onto his shoulders and carries me back to the fold, my legs will buckle, and the very effort of standing up will bring me down again. I am the prodigal son who has squandered everything his father entrusted to him but hasn't yet knelt in submission, hasn't yet begun to strip away the seductions of my former life. And because it's only been a short time since I began -- not so much to abandon my vices as to want to abandon them -- the devil now traps me in fresh snares, throws new obstacles across my path, and hems me in on every side.
The sea all around me, and nothing but sea.
I find myself in the middle of the ocean, unwilling to turn back and unable to go forward. All that's left is for your prayers to summon the gale of the Holy Spirit and blow me into harbor on the shore I long for.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.