Letters 4.119–4.128

To Heron. [From the Letter of Peter. Why he commands husbands to pay honour to the woman as to the weaker vessel.] Even if marriage is honourable and the marriage bed lawful, one must not always leap upon it; rather one must abstain at certain times and give way to nature, until she is pure and becomes fit for begetting children. This the law decreed. And grace counselled that this be done also for the sake of purity and constant prayer, saying through Paul, "that you may devote yourselves to prayer," and through Peter what you wished to learn. For he said that husbands must pay honour to the woman as to the weaker vessel. [Letter 4.120] [On "If possible, so far as it depends on you."] Even if the man who was reviled did not, because of his profession, bring any suit in court against the man who insulted him for his daring (otherwise he would have brought him to pay the penalty for what he did), still he has the insults ringing in his ears. Since, then, it is right that he be healed, there is no other physician for such sufferings than the one who struck the blow, who should make ready to make amends to the man.

To Cassian the deacon. Even if the Gospel narrative depicts Lazarus as having reached the extreme of every wretchedness, his misfortune became for him the greatest foundation of good fortune and of truth. Had he not come to such adversity, he would not have risen to such renown. For what is more glorious (to pass over the rewards there) than to be celebrated in the Gospels, to have God to praise him and Abraham to plead for him? [Letter 4.122] [On "Everyone who looks at a woman to desire her has already committed adultery with her."] If the defilement touched only the porch and not the inner sanctuary, the affliction would perhaps be easily cured. But since it lays hold of the soul itself, let no one deceive himself. And if anyone, deceiving people, says, "No one is crowned unless he competes lawfully," thinking that looking is lawful wrestling if he keeps from the act, let him learn that the president and judge of such contests said, "Whoever looks at a woman to desire her has already committed adultery with her in his heart." Lawful wrestling, then, is not the kind set by each person's negligence and prejudice, but the kind laid down by the incorruptible Judge.

To Isidore the presbyter. [On "But he, wishing to justify himself, said, 'And who is my neighbour?'"] You asked what is meant by the saying in the Gospels about the lawyer: "But he, wishing to justify himself, said, 'And who is my neighbour?'" Listen, then. The lawyer thought that only the just man is neighbour to the just, the lofty to the lofty, in virtue, I mean. For he judged the neighbour not by the nature, which is one, but either by rank or by deeds. That is why, wishing to justify himself, that is, to show himself just, as lofty in virtue or great as a teacher, he says, "And who is my neighbour? Show me one so great." But the Saviour, as the maker (for he himself made small and great), defined the neighbour not by deeds or by ranks but by nature, all but saying: "I do not yet tell you that you differ in nothing from the others, lest those who truly love virtue should think that they owe love to their neighbours only on such terms, taking your doctrine as a rule; but even if it is so (let it be granted), strive to be near to the one in need, not only in place, but in disposition and in care for him." That is why he portrayed the Samaritan for you. For neighbourliness is judged by nature, not by virtue; by essence, not by rank; by compassion, not by place; by the manner of care, and not by nearness of place. Consider him above all to be your neighbour who is in need, and go to his help of your own accord.

To Aegyptius the presbyter. [On the soul.] We hold the soul to be divine (yet not consubstantial with the most divine and kingly nature) and immortal, but not a part of the nature that is without beginning, creative, and eternal. For if it were a part of that ineffable nature, it would not have sinned, it would not have been judged. But since it undergoes these things, it would rightly be believed to be a work of the highest essence, not a part of it, lest the divine nature be found judging itself. [Letter 4.125] To Proeschius, scholasticus and physician. [On the same.] Pythagoras, Plato, and the other famous wise men among the Greeks, following the compulsion of demonstration, rightly declared the soul to be more sovereign than the body, and called the one the craftsman and the other the instrument; the one incorporeal and the other extended in three dimensions; the one immortal and incorruptible. Even if they missed the truth on some other matters, on this they hit the mark. But Galen (for it did not escape those who read him intelligently that he held the soul to be the tuned lyre, not the lyre-player) declared it mortal. Having laid down that the powers of the soul follow the mixture of the body, he ended by saying that there is no incorporeal and immortal soul at all, defining the mixture as the soul, I do not know how; so that he stands convicted of babbling the name of soul in vain, and of conceding it so as not to seem to contradict many wise men: fighting against the reality, he concedes the name. But one must not attend to him in this. For, following medical doctrine and wishing to establish his own art, he cared nothing for the truth. As for the treatment of bodies, since the man was celebrated as an expert in that, let him say what he likes (I will not take away his standing in these matters); but about the soul let him not compete with those wiser than he, nor go down into a contest for which he is untrained and unpractised; nor, being an athlete, judge music; nor, having spent all his understanding on bodies, lay down doctrine about the soul; nor trust, in building his case, that the harmony of the elements is the soul. For if this were granted by way of supposition (let no person of understanding think so), then, since it would truly be so, the soul will be extinguished with that harmony, or rather with the body. For if it is a harmony, it is the last to be composed and the first to perish: the lyre and its strings, when tuned, produce the harmony, but when they are taken apart they remain for some time, while the harmony has perished first. What, then, would this excellent man say about what poets, philosophers, and prose writers have taught, that there will surely and certainly be punishments in the judgment? What reward will he devise for those who live rightly here? For those who live so are for the most part set contests full of the greatest labours and sweat until their death here. Where will he place the punishment of those who pursue every vice until death and enjoy wealth and honour? How will he interpret Homer's exhortation of the rational part to the spirited part, "Endure, my heart"? Or, "The soul had gone to Hades"? Or, "So there is something even in the house of Hades," that is, truly there is something there too? How did Euripides, whom you define as wise, say, "May it be well with you even in the halls of Hades"? And if the soul is a harmony, how does it fall into disharmony and produce an unmusical and discordant song? For virtue is something tuneful and harmonious, and vice unmusical and discordant. How does he think he must praise those who pursue the sciences, if they are such from their mixture? How will he blame those who busy themselves with vain arts, if they were trained to them by nature? How will he condemn the profit made from beautiful bodies, if the mixture procured it? How will he account for the changes that happen every day? Many licentious people have flown up to chastity, and many chaste people have fallen into lust; yet the mixture did not change. Some, young and licentious, returned to decency at the very peak of their age, not because the mixture changed at that moment, but because their will set things right. But so as not to lengthen the letter by telling all the changes that have happened, I shall leave these and go on to the objection that seemed strong to him. What is it? "If the soul is immortal," he says, "as Plato would have it, why does it depart when the brain is greatly chilled, or overdried, or overmoistened?" To this question, then, I shall pass over refuting him by the fact that he often foretold death to some and promised life to others from the pulse, which perhaps he calls a harmony, and was wrong, the latter dying and the former living (so the art, being conjectural, misses the truth); I shall pass over this too, that the souls of many who were bewitched with deadly drugs did not depart, so that the soul does not always depart when the brain is chilled. I would say this: that there is a divine bond binding together things that differ greatly from one another, an ineffable fellowship of an incorporeal soul with a body, an unspeakable sympathy of an immortal essence with a mortal instrument, as even Plato himself holds. Galen pretends that he cannot even conceive of this. This came about so that the soul might make much of caring for the body, not so as to swell with fleshiness, but so as to be healthy; for if it did not, it would share in the body's bad mixture by sympathy, even if not by a primary and proper harm of its own. The body's bad mixture, and drunkenness, pass the affection on to the soul; and the soul, like a helmsman in a great surge, is troubled and does not display its own skill, but, sunk and as though submerged, is often carried here and there wherever the moisture that made the surge leads it. This does not show that the soul is not immortal, but that its activities are hindered; since not even the best musician will produce a harmonious song if he has an untuned lyre, or if he has fallen into the sea. Let this be said from reasoning; and now let the verdict of the Creator be added, sealing what has been said: "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul." Since the soul is immortal, then, let us so live and so act.

To Isidore. [On "But to the sinner God said, 'Why do you …'" and so on.] I think it goes beyond all daring for those who take no thought for the best life to wrangle constantly about doctrines. Their freedom of speech is shut, not by doors and seals that someone might tamper with, but by divine oracles that cry, "But to the sinner God said, 'Why do you recount my ordinances, and take my covenant in your mouth?'"; yet they have gone to such daring that they not only pass judgment on the ordinances they have forsworn (which would perhaps be a lesser evil), but quarrel about the ineffable and undefiled nature. I would advise such people, then, not to tear at divine things, so far as it lies with them, with a foul and accursed mouth, when even the most highly approved can hardly catch them, but to turn the examination on themselves; perhaps they will wipe off the stains which they have wrongly smeared on themselves.

To Nilus the deacon. [On "The natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit." What is meant by spiritual, natural, and carnal.] Paul, wise friend, calls spiritual those who are adorned with a spiritual gift, and who have gone not only above nature but also beyond the sequence of reasonings through faith; of whom Paul himself was one, and those to whom he wrote, "You are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you." He calls natural, those of whom it is written, "natural men, not having the Spirit," those who rely rather on reasonings, syllogisms, and calculations, and think they find what is just and profitable from these; such are the wise among the Greeks. And he calls carnal those who have been defeated by the passions of the flesh, naming them from what dominates them; such are all the accursed and impure, and those mad for sexual intercourse. For even though the spiritual man has a body and a soul, and the natural man has a body, and the carnal man a soul, each is named from what prevails in him. Just as the body is called earthy, though it shares in the other elements, because for the most part it shares in earth, so with them too the name has won out from what prevails.

To Eustephius. [On the celebrated death of our Saviour.] You asked, "How is it clear that Christ came to his death willingly?" Above all from his having raised the dead by the Master's authority. For one who granted life to the dead would surely not have been led to the passion against his will. And even if he did not wish to use his divine power, he could still have escaped by making a defence, had he wished. For he even had Pilate working with him to that end, saying at one time, "I find in him no cause of death," and at another, "I am innocent of this blood." And if he did not wish to make a defence, he could have appealed, as Paul did. For they were under the Romans. Augustus, emperor of the Romans, having subdued all peoples, among whom were they, ordered the whole world to be enrolled before the Saviour's birth in the flesh; and Pilate was the Roman governor among them, administering affairs, sending appellants to the Romans, and keeping their protection safe for them; just as Festus, or if you prefer, the tribune, both rescued Paul from the murderous council and sent him to Rome to Caesar. But Christ did none of these things. He used neither his power, nor a defence, nor an appeal, so as to show splendidly that he had come here to put death to death.