112 (116). To Firmin

(Having learned that Firmin, leaving the ascetic life, entered military service, in imitation of his grandfather, he deflected him from this intention. (Written about 372 A.D.))

And your letters are rare and brief, because either you are too lazy to write, or you have in mind to avoid the satiety that is the result of multitude, or you even accustom yourself to brevity in words. And for me your letters are not enough; Even though they were much more abundant, they would not satisfy the desire, because I would like to know everything about you in detail: what is your bodily condition? How do you manage in asceticism? Do you stick to what you decided at first, or have you thought of something else, considering your disposition with the circumstances you have encountered? Therefore, if you remain the same, I do not require extensive letters; I've had enough if you write: "So-and-so to so-and-so. Know that I am healthy, and be healthy yourself." But since I hear something of which I am ashamed to speak, namely, that you, having left the rank of blessed ancestors, have gone over to the side of your father's grandfather, and from Firmin are trying to become Vrettanius, it is desirable to hear about this and to know the reasons why you are forced to enter this path of life. But since you yourself have kept silent, ashamed of your enterprise, I ask you not to undertake anything.

And so, if you did not have this thought at first, or if it was, but was thrown by you again, then inform me immediately. And if, whatever I would like, the same intention remains in you, then this misfortune will give me news of itself, and I will have no need of your letters.

145 (150). To Amphilochius, on behalf of Heraclides

(Heraclides justifies himself before Amphilochius for not withdrawing with him into the wilderness, although he promised to work together for God; he recounts his conversation with St. Basil in the almshouse near Caesarea about non-acquisitiveness; he concludes with the desire that Amphilochius himself should come to St. Basil, because it is better to listen to him than to wander in the wilderness. (Written in 373))

I remember what you and I once talked about among ourselves; I have not forgotten what I myself have said, and what I have heard from your nobility; and now the life of society no longer holds me. Although in my heart I am the same and have not cast off the old man, at least outwardly and because I keep myself far from the affairs of life, it already seems as if I have entered the path of life according to Christ. But, like those who are about to set sail, I sit with myself, looking into the future. For sailors need winds to sail safely, and we need a man to guide and safely navigate the salty waves of life. In fact, for me, as I reason, I need, first, a bridle for youth and then motivation in the field of piety. And this can bring such a mind that either restrains what is disorderly in me, or excites what is slow in the soul. I also need other aids in order to wash away the impurities into which I go out of habit. For, as we know, we have long been accustomed to the marketplace, we are uneconomical in our words and careless with the ideas that the evil one puts into the mind, we succumb to ambition and do not easily abandon lofty thoughts about ourselves. For this, as I reason, I need a great and experienced teacher. Moreover, to cleanse the eye of the soul, so that, having removed, like a kind of pus, all the obscuration produced by ignorance, I may behold the beauty of God's glory — I consider it a matter worth no small labor and of no small benefit. And I know for sure that your learning also sees this and desires that there be a person to help in this. And if God ever wills me to come together with your dignity, of course, I will know even more about what I need to take care of. For now, in my great ignorance, I cannot know even that in which I lack. I only know that I do not repent of the first striving, and my soul does not weaken in the intention to live according to God, in the consideration of which you were anxious for me, acting beautifully and in your own way, lest, turning back, I should become a pillar of slight, to which, as I hear, a certain woman was subjected (Genesis 19:26). But the external authorities are also holding me back, and the commanders are looking for me as a fugitive warrior. And most of all my own heart holds me back, bearing witness to myself that which I have already said.

And since thou hast reminded me of the conditions, and promised to bring a complaint against me, thou hast made me, in spite of all my sorrow, laugh at the fact that thou art still a rhetorician, and that thou hast not given up the habit of frightening. For I, if I do not completely sin against the truth, as an unlearned man, think that there is only one way that leads to the Lord; and all who come to Him accompany each other and observe the same condition of life. Therefore, where can I go so that I can be separated from you and not live together, not work together for God, to Whom we have turned together? Though our bodies will be separated by a place, the eye of God will undoubtedly see both of us together, if only my life is worthy of the eyes of God to look upon it: for I read somewhere in the Psalms that "the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous" (Psalm 33:16). True, I wish to be with you and with everyone who has chosen for himself the same thing as you, to be together in body, I wish every night and every day before our Heavenly Father to kneel with you and with everyone else who worthily calls upon God, because, as I know, communion in prayer brings great benefit. But what if I had to lie every time I happened to breathe, lying in another corner? I cannot argue against what you have said, and I accuse myself of lying if, out of old indifference, I have said something that makes me liable to be condemned for lying.

And when I was near Caesarea, in order to obtain information about the affairs, not daring to pass through the city itself, I hid myself in the nearest almshouse, in order to find out there what I wanted to know. Then, when the most God-loving bishop arrived, according to custom, I reported everything to him at the command of your learning. And what he answered me could not have been preserved in my memory, and would have exceeded the measure of the letter. In short, in the discourse of non-acquisitiveness, he prescribed the measure that everyone should limit himself in the acquisition of property to the last tunic. And he presented me with proofs from the Gospel – one of the words of John the Baptist: "Thou shalt have two garments, that he may give to the needy" (Luke 3:11), another – from the Lord's prohibition for the disciples to have two garments (cf. Matt. 10:10). And to this he added: "If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell thy possessions, and give to the poor" (Matthew 19:21). He also said that the parable of the beads also applies to this; because the merchant, "has found... the beads are of great value, and when you go and sell all your name, you shall buy them" (Matt. 13:46). And he added to this, that he should not take upon himself the distribution of possessions, but entrust him to him who is entrusted with the administration of the affairs of the poor. And this is confirmed by the passage from the Acts, that when he sold his possessions and brought them, "the Apostle placed at his feet, and by them he gave to some, if anyone required him" (cf. Acts 4:35). For, he said, experience is needed to distinguish between the truly needy and the one who asks out of covetousness. And whoever gives to the oppressed by poverty, gives to the Lord, and from Him he will receive a reward; and whoever lends to everyone who passes by, throws it to the dog, who annoys with his intractability, but does not excite pity by his poverty.

And how we should spend each day of our lives, he touched a little on the word, and not as the importance of the subject demanded. However, I would like you to learn from him, because it would be unwise for me to spoil the accuracy of his lessons, but it would be desirable for me to be with him with you, so that you may fully retain in mind what he has said, and find out the rest with your own understanding. For from many things that I have said, I remember that the teaching about how a Christian should live requires not so much verbal instruction as daily example. And I know that if these bonds did not hold you back to serve your father's old age, then you yourself would not prefer anything else to a meeting with a bishop, and you would not advise me to leave him and wander in the wilderness, because caves and cliffs are still waiting for us, and the benefit of these men is not always with us. Therefore, if you give place to my advice, you will dispose your father to allow you to leave him for a while, and to see a man who knows much from the experience of others, and from his own understanding, and who is able to convey it to those who come to him.

162 (169). To Gregory the Theologian

(The deacon Glycerius, having gathered many virgins and fled with them at night, took them with him. St. Gregory the Theologian gave these virgins shelter to him. (Written about 374 A.D.))