Letter 187: Theodore Studite, Letter 187; Greek heading: Κληδονίῳ τέκνῳ.

You have been thrown into anguish at the contest of your brethren, my child, and it is no wonder; since we too have suffered the same thing. But do not be afraid; for it is written, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do to me. And so we must take courage and not be terrified; by this courage those who have contended [the confessors and martyrs] have prevailed. And indeed Thaddaeus the holy one, made perfect by his own blood, departed to dwell with the Lord. Is it not, then, the greatest of bargains-against a hundred lashes, or even more, however much the reasoning [the inner calculation] may suggest, whether of one's own devising or from a diabolical sowing of seed that works to make a man cowardly-to hold out for the kingdom of heaven and the exultation in ages without end? And is it not exceedingly grievous, to spare oneself the pains that come from the lashes, to give up the faith, and neither to have any relief here, because of the shame of the fall and a quaking conscience, and to be punished for ages without end? In this way, my beloved child, give your heart an edge as of tempered steel, and, thinking thus, you will have Christ as your champion, as in truth it is. But even if the reasoning suggests that after a denial there is again salvation through repentance-as indeed there is-yet who is it that promises that we shall in every case find repentance, whether we are snatched away too quickly or rise up from the fall only with difficulty? And how much weeping and the other remedies of repentance shall we have to bring in, in order to reconcile the Judge, while we tremble at death and are forever put to shame and without freedom to speak [parresia, bold confidence before God]? Ask those around the wretched Lucian, and then those around the blessed Dorotheus, what manner of heart was in each of them; and you will find and hear, in the former, pain, darkness, shame, men praying for the earth to split open and swallow them down, but in the latter, joy unbearable [in its greatness], light, gladness of countenance, Christ himself, such as men who never from their birth had known such delight. Who then is so senseless, who so stony-hearted, who so mad as not to recognize that it is good to suffer for Christ's sake? So may God make you perfect, my child, praying for me, even as I tell you also to act in the Lord.