Letters 22.1–23.8

When after long hesitation I could not find how to answer the letter of Your Holiness (for the affection of my heart overcame everything, and the reading of your letter stirred it up much more ardently when it was already rising of its own accord), I nevertheless committed myself to God, that he might work in me according to my strength, so that I might write back what would befit the zeal of both of us in the Lord and our care for the church, in keeping with your eminence and my deference. And first, that you believe you are helped by my prayers, I not only do not shrink from but gladly embrace. For so, if not through mine, then certainly through yours, our Lord will hear me. For your most kindly reception of the news that brother Alypius has remained in our fellowship, to be an example to brothers who wish to avoid the cares of this world, I thank you with thanks I could express in no words; may God repay this to your soul. So the whole company of brothers that has begun to grow together here is bound to you by so great a privilege, in that, though separated from us by so great a distance of lands, you have consulted for us as if present in spirit. Therefore we apply ourselves to prayer as much as we can, that the Lord may deign to uphold with you the flock entrusted to you, and not forsake you anywhere, but be present as a helper in times of need, showing mercy to his church through your priesthood, such mercy as spiritual men implore him with tears and groans to show.

Know, then, most blessed lord, venerable in your fullest love, that we do not despair, indeed we strongly hope, that our Lord and God, through the authority of the office you bear, which we trust has been laid not on your flesh but on your spirit, can heal by the weighty sword of councils and by your own weight of authority the many carnal foulnesses and sicknesses which the African church suffers in many members and laments in few. For the apostle in one place briefly set down three kinds of vices to be detested and avoided, from which a harvest of innumerable sins has sprung up; one of these, the one he put in second place, is punished most severely in the church, but the other two, that is, the first and the last, seem tolerable to people, and so it can gradually come about that they are no longer even thought vices. For the vessel of election says: 'Not in revelling and drunkenness, not in beds and impurity, not in strife and jealousy; but put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in its desires.'

Of these three, then, debauchery and impurity is thought so great a crime that no one who has stained himself with that sin seems worthy not only of church ministry but even of communion in the sacraments themselves. And quite rightly. But why that alone? For revelling and drunkenness are thought so allowed and lawful that they are celebrated even in honour of the most blessed martyrs, not only on the solemn days (which in itself anyone who looks at these things with eyes not of flesh must see as lamentable), but even daily. If this foulness were only shameful and not also sacrilegious, we would think it should be borne with whatever strength of tolerance we have. And yet what of that saying of the same apostle, when, having listed many vices, among which he put drunkards, he concluded by saying that we should not even eat bread with such people? But let us bear these things in domestic luxury and corruption, and in those banquets that are held within private walls, and let us receive the body of Christ with those with whom we are forbidden to eat bread; at least from the tombs of the saints' bodies, at least from the places of the sacraments, from the houses of prayer, let so great a disgrace be kept away. For who dares to forbid in private what, when it is practised by crowds in holy places, is called honouring the martyrs?

If Africa were the first to try to remove these things, it would deserve to be imitated by the other lands; but since, throughout the greater part of Italy and in all or nearly all the other churches overseas, these things have either never been done, or, where they arose or had become long established, have been extinguished and abolished by the diligence and correction of bishops who were holy and truly thinking about the life to come, how can we hesitate to correct so great a corruption of morals, with so wide an example set before us? And we indeed have as our bishop a man from those parts, for which we give great thanks to God. He is, moreover, of such moderation and gentleness, and finally of such prudence and solicitude in the Lord, that even if he were an African he would quickly be persuaded from the Scriptures that the wound which a licentious and wrongly free custom has inflicted must be healed. But the plague of this evil is so great that, as it seems to me, it can be fully healed only by the authority of a council; or, if the medicine must begin with one church, then, just as it seems audacious to try to change what the church of Carthage holds, so it is great impudence to wish to keep what the church of Carthage has corrected. And for this purpose what other bishop could be wished for than one who denounced these things as a deacon?

But what was then to be lamented must now be removed, not harshly, but, as it is written, in a spirit of gentleness and meekness. For your letter, a sign of most genuine love, gives me confidence to dare to speak with you as with myself. These things are not removed, then, as I think, harshly, not severely, not in an imperious way, but more by teaching than by commanding, more by admonishing than by threatening. For so one must deal with a multitude; severity is to be exercised on the sins of a few. And if we threaten at all, let it be done with sorrow, threatening future punishment from the Scriptures, so that it is not we ourselves in our own power, but God in our words, who is feared. In this way the spiritual, or those close to the spiritual, will be moved first, so that by their authority and by gentle but most insistent admonitions the rest of the multitude may be won over.

But since these drunken feasts and luxurious banquets in the cemeteries are usually believed by the carnal and ignorant people to be not only honours to the martyrs but also comforts for the dead, it seems to me that this foulness and disgrace could more easily be dissuaded from them if it is forbidden from the Scriptures, and if the offerings for the spirits of those who sleep, which we must truly believe are of some help, are not sumptuous over the memorials themselves, and are given to all who ask without pride and with readiness, and are not sold; but if anyone wishes to offer some money out of religious devotion, let him pay it out to the poor on the spot. In this way they will not seem to desert the memorials of their own dead, which can cause no slight grief of heart, and what is celebrated in the church will be celebrated piously and honourably. Let this suffice for now about revelling and drunkenness.

But as for strife and jealousy, what business is it of mine to speak of them, when these vices are more serious not among the people but in our own number? The mother of these diseases is pride and greed for human praise, which also often begets hypocrisy. This is not resisted unless the fear and love of God are struck into the heart by frequent testimonies of the divine books; provided, however, that the one who does this offers himself as an example of patience and humility, taking for himself less than is offered, yet accepting from those who honour him neither all nor nothing; and whatever praise or honour is accepted should be accepted not for his own sake, since he ought to be wholly in the sight of God and to despise human things, but for the sake of those whose good he cannot serve if he becomes worthless through excessive self-abasement. For this is what is meant by the saying, 'Let no one despise your youth', since he said it who says in another place: 'If I wished to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.'

It is a great thing not to rejoice in human honours and praises, but also to cut off all empty pomp, and, if anything of it is kept as necessary, to devote all of it to the benefit and salvation of those who honour us. For not in vain was it said: 'God will break the bones of those who wish to please men.' For what is feebler, what so lacking in stability and strength, which bones signify, than a man whom the tongue of slanderers weakens, though he knows that what is said is false? The pain of this would in no way tear the inner parts of the soul if the love of praise did not break its bones. I take the strength of your mind for granted; so the things I share with you I am saying to myself. Yet you deign, I believe, to consider with me how serious, how difficult they are. For no one feels the strength of this enemy except one who has declared war on it, because, though it is easy for anyone to do without praise while it is denied, it is difficult not to be delighted by it when it is offered. And yet the mind should be so lifted up to God that, if we are praised undeservedly, we correct those we can, so that they may not think either that there is in us what is not, or that what is God's is ours, or praise things which, though we are not lacking in them or even have them in abundance, are nevertheless in no way praiseworthy, such as all the goods we have in common either with cattle or with impious people. But if we are deservedly praised on account of God, let us congratulate those who are pleased by the true good, yet not ourselves because we please men, but only if before God we are such as they believe us to be, and if the praise is attributed not to us but to God, whose gifts are all the things that are truly and deservedly praised. These things I sing to myself daily, or rather he whose saving precepts they are, whether they are found in the divine readings or suggested inwardly to the mind. And yet, fighting hard with the adversary, I often receive wounds from him, when I cannot take away from myself the delight of praise that is offered.

I have written these things so that, if they are no longer necessary for Your Holiness, either because you yourself think of more and more useful things of this kind or because Your Holiness has no need of this medicine, my ills at least may be known to you, and you may know what to ask God for on behalf of my weakness. That you may do this most earnestly, I implore you by the humanity of him who gave the command that we bear one another's burdens. There are many things in our life and conduct which I would lament, things I would not want to reach you by letter; between my heart and your heart I would want no intermediaries but my mouth and your ears. But if the aged Saturninus, venerable to us and dearest to all of us in complete sincerity, whose truly brotherly kindness and zeal toward you I saw when I was with you, deigns to come to us when he sees fit, whatever we can discuss with his holiness and spiritual affection will differ little or not at all from doing it with Your Worthiness. I beg you with entreaties for which no words suffice to deign to ask and obtain this from him together with us. For the people of Hippo greatly, too greatly, dread my absence so far away, and will in no way trust me as I trust you. We learned of the field given to the brothers by your provision and generosity before your letter came, through our holy brother and fellow servant Parthenius, from whom we heard many other things we wanted to hear. The Lord will grant that the rest of what we still desire may also be fulfilled.

Before I come to the matter about which I wished to write to Your Benevolence, I will briefly give the reason for the heading of this letter, so that it may not disturb either you or anyone else. I wrote 'lord' because it is written: 'You were called to freedom, brothers; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another.' Since, then, even by this very duty of writing I serve you through love, I do not absurdly call you lord, for the sake of our one and true Lord, who gave us these commands. As for my writing 'most beloved', God knows that I not only love you but love you as myself, since I am well aware that I wish for you the same good things as for myself. As for my adding 'honourable', I did not add it to honour your episcopate; for you are not my bishop. And do not take this as said in insult, but from the mind by which there should be in our mouth 'yes, yes; no, no'. For you know, as does anyone who knows us, that neither are you my bishop nor am I your presbyter. I gladly call you honourable, then, by the rule by which I know you to be a man, and know that man was made in the image and likeness of God and set in honour by the very order and law of nature, if only, by understanding what is to be understood, he keeps his honour. For thus it is written: 'Man, set in honour, did not understand; he was compared to senseless beasts and became like them.' Why then should I not call you honourable insofar as you are a man, especially since I dare not despair of your salvation and correction as long as you are in this life? As for calling you brother, you are aware that we have been commanded by God to say even to those who deny that they are our brothers: 'You are our brothers.' And this has great force for the cause on account of which I wished to write to Your Brotherhood. Now that I have given the reason why I made such a doorway to my letter, hear very calmly what follows.

When in your region I was denouncing, with what words I could, the custom, to be mourned and lamented, of people who, though they glory in the Christian name, do not hesitate to rebaptize Christians, there were some who praised you and told me that you do not do this. I confess that at first I did not believe it. Then, considering that it could happen that the fear of God might come upon a human soul thinking about the future life, so that it would restrain itself from a most manifest crime, I believed it gladly, because by such a resolve you had chosen not to be too far estranged from the Catholic Church. I was indeed seeking an opportunity to speak with you, so that, if possible, the small disagreement that remained between us might be removed, when, behold, a few days ago it was reported that you had rebaptized our deacon of Mutugenna. I grieved greatly both at his wretched fall and at your unexpected crime, brother. For I know what the Catholic Church is. The nations are the inheritance of Christ, and the ends of the earth the possession of Christ. You also know this, or, if you do not, take note; it can be known very easily by those who wish. To rebaptize a heretic, then, who has received these signs of holiness which the Christian discipline has handed down, is altogether a sin; but to rebaptize a Catholic is a most monstrous crime. Still, not quite believing it, because I held a good opinion of you, I went to Mutugenna myself, and though I could not see the wretched man himself, I heard from his parents that he has now even been made your deacon. And yet I still think so well of your heart that I do not believe he has been rebaptized.

Therefore, most beloved brother, I implore you by the divinity and humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ to deign to write back to me what has been done, and to write back knowing that I wish to read your letter aloud to our brothers in church. I have written this so that, if I later did what you did not expect me to do, I might not offend your love and you might not lodge a just complaint about me with our common friends. I do not see, then, what could hinder you from writing back. For if you rebaptize, you have nothing to fear from the men of your college, since you will have written that you do what they would order you to do even if you did not want to. And when you have defended with all the proofs you can that it should be done, they will not only not be angry, but will even praise you. But if you do not rebaptize, seize Christian freedom, brother Maximinus, seize it, I beg you; looking to Christ, do not fear any man's reproach or shudder at any man's power. The honour of this world passes, ambition passes. At the future judgment of Christ, neither apses raised on steps, nor draped thrones, nor troops of nuns running to meet us and singing will be brought for our defence, when conscience begins to accuse and the arbiter of consciences to judge. What honours here will burden there; what lifts us here will weigh us down there. These things that are shown for the time being to our honour for the good of the church will perhaps be defended by a good conscience, but they will not be able to defend a bad one.

What you do, then, with so pious and religious a mind, if indeed you do it, not repeating the baptism of the Catholic Church but rather approving it as the baptism of the one truest mother, who offers her bosom to all nations to be reborn and pours out her breasts for the reborn, as of the one possession of Christ stretching to the ends of the earth: if you truly do this, why do you not burst out in a joyful and free voice? Why do you hide the so useful brightness of your lamp under a bushel? Why do you not tear apart and throw away the old skins of timid servitude, put on Christian confidence instead, come out, and say: 'I know one baptism, consecrated and sealed in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; where I find this form, I must approve it; I do not destroy what I recognize as the Lord's; I do not blow upon the standard of my King'? Even those who divided the garments of Christ did not violate them; and they had not yet believed that Christ would rise, but saw him dying. If the garment of him who hung on the cross was not torn by persecutors, why is the sacrament of him who sits in heaven destroyed by Christians? If I had been a Jew in the times of the old people, when I could not have been anything better, I would certainly have received circumcision. That seal of the righteousness of faith had such force at that time, before it was made void by the Lord's coming, that the angel would have strangled the infant son of Moses had his mother not taken a stone and circumcised the boy, and by this sacrament driven off the impending destruction. This sacrament also held back the river Jordan and drove it back to its source; this sacrament the Lord himself, though he made it void when crucified, yet received when born. For those seals were not condemned, but gave way as more fitting ones succeeded them. For as the Lord's first coming took away circumcision, so his second coming will take away baptism. For just as now, after the freedom of faith has come and the yoke of slavery has been removed, no Christian is circumcised in the flesh, so then, when the righteous reign with the Lord and the impious are condemned, no one will be baptized; but what these signs prefigure, that is, the circumcision of the heart and the cleansing of the conscience, will remain for ever. If, then, I had been a Jew at that time, and a Samaritan had come to me wishing to abandon that error which even the Lord condemned when he said, 'You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews' — if, I say, a Samaritan whom the Samaritans had circumcised wished to become a Jew, there would certainly be no room for the audacity of repetition, and we would be compelled not to repeat but to approve what had been done in the heresy, because God had commanded it. And if I could find no place in the flesh of a circumcised man where I could repeat circumcision, because that member is one, much less is a place found in the one heart where the baptism of Christ may be repeated. So you who wish to double baptism must altogether look for double hearts.

Proclaim, then, that you are doing right, if you do not rebaptize, and write back to me about it not only without fear but with joy. Let no councils of your people frighten you, brother. For if this displeases them, they are not worthy to have you; but if it pleases them, we trust in the mercy of the Lord, who never deserts those who fear to displease him and try to please him, that there will soon be peace between you and us, so that, on account of our honours (a dangerous burden of which an account must be given), the wretched peoples who believe in Christ may not share common food in their houses yet be unable to share the table of Christ. Do we not groan that husband and wife, in order to join their bodies faithfully, very often swear to each other by Christ, and yet tear apart the body of Christ himself by belonging to different communions? If this great scandal, this great triumph of the devil, this great ruin of souls, is removed from our midst in these regions through your moderation and prudence and the love we owe to him who shed his blood for us, who could express in words what a palm the Lord prepares for you, so that from you there may go out so imitable an example of healing for curing the other members that lie miserably wasting throughout all Africa? How I fear, since you cannot see my heart, that I may seem to you to speak with insult rather than with love! But certainly I find nothing more I can do than to offer my words to you for inspection and my mind to God.

Let us remove from our midst the empty charges which ignorant partisans usually hurl at each other: you should not bring up the times of Macarius, nor I the savagery of the Circumcellions. If this does not concern you, neither does that concern me. The Lord's threshing floor has not yet been winnowed; it cannot be without chaff. Let us pray and do what we can, that we may be wheat. I cannot be silent about the rebaptism of our deacon; for I know how ruinous silence would be for me. For I do not intend to pass empty and windy days in church honours, but I bear in mind that I shall render to the Prince of all shepherds an account of the sheep entrusted to me. If perhaps you did not want me to write this to you, you must, brother, pardon my fear; for I greatly fear that, if I am silent and pretend not to see, others too will be rebaptized by you. So I have decided, as far as the Lord deigns to grant strength and means, to conduct this cause in such a way that, through our peaceful conferences, all who are in communion with us may know how far the Catholic Church differs from heresies or schisms, and how much the ruin of the tares, or of the branches cut off from the Lord's vine, must be avoided. If you willingly undertake this conference with me, so that the letters of both of us may be read to the peoples with our agreement, I shall rejoice with unspeakable joy. But if you do not accept it calmly, what shall I do, brother, but read our letters to the Catholic people even against your will, so that it may be better instructed? And if you do not deign to write back, I have decided to read even my own letter alone, so that at least, when your hesitation is known, people may be ashamed to be rebaptized.

Nor shall I do this while the soldiers are present, lest any of you think that I wanted to act more tumultuously than the principle of peace requires, but after the soldiers have left, so that all who hear us may understand that it is not my purpose that people should be forced against their will into anyone's communion, but that the truth should become known to those who seek it in complete quiet. On our side the terror of temporal powers will cease; let the terror of gathered Circumcellions also cease on your side. Let us deal with the facts, deal with reason, deal with the authorities of the divine Scriptures; quiet and tranquil as far as we can, let us ask, seek and knock, that we may receive and find and it may be opened to us; for perhaps it may come about that, with the Lord helping our harmonious efforts and prayers, so great a deformity and impiety in the regions of Africa may begin to be abolished from our lands. If you do not believe that I mean to act after the soldiers have left, write back after the soldiers have left. For if I wish to read my letter to the people while the soldiers are present, my letter, when produced, will show me to be a breaker of my word. May the mercy of the Lord turn this away from my character and resolve, which he has deigned to inspire in me through his yoke.

My bishop would perhaps rather have sent a letter to Your Benevolence himself, if he were present, or I would have written at his command or with his permission. But in his absence, since the rebaptism of the deacon either is recent or is said to be, I did not allow the matter itself to grow cold through delay, roused as I was by the stings of most bitter grief over the true death of a brother. Perhaps the compensation of peace, with the help of the mercy and providence of the Lord, will soothe this grief of mine. May our God and Lord deign to inspire in you a peaceful mind, most beloved lord and brother.