Cyprian & Lactantius · a new plain-English translation from the original language
Although in most of you, dearest brothers, the mind is sound and the faith firm and the soul devoted, so that it is not shaken by the present abundance of mortality, but like a strong and steady rock breaks rather than is broken by the turbid onrushes of the world and the violent waves of this age, and is not overcome by trials but proved by them — still, because I notice that among the people some, whether through weakness of spirit or smallness of faith, or the sweetness of worldly life, or a certain slackness peculiar to their sex, or, worse still, through a mistaken grasp of the truth, stand less bravely and fail to call up the divine, unconquerable strength lodged in their own breast, this matter ought not to be passed over in silence. So, as far as our modest ability allows, let the sluggishness of a delicate mind be checked by vigorous words drawn from the Lord's own reading, so that a man who has already begun belonging to God and to Christ may come to be counted worthy of them both.
Dearest brothers, a man enlisted in God's service, stationed already within the heavenly camp and hoping now for what belongs to heaven, ought to recognize this: since the Lord himself foretold everything now coming to pass, no fright, no disturbance of any kind, should touch us amid the storms and gales the world stirs up. By the urging of his provident voice he readied his church's people, instructing and teaching and toughening them for whatever endurance the future would ask of them; he proclaimed and foretold that wars, famines, earthquakes, and plagues would break out across the earth, region by region, and, so that no sudden, unfamiliar terror of such hostile events might catch us unprepared, he warned well in advance that hardships would keep multiplying as the last days approached. Look — what he spoke of is happening now, and once these foretold events run their course, every remaining promise will likewise be fulfilled, since the Lord himself pledged it, saying: 'But when you see all this taking place, know that the kingdom of God draws near.' That kingdom, dearest brothers, has already begun drawing near: life's reward, the gladness of salvation without end, joy that never ceases, and paradise regained after its loss — all this arrives even as the world passes away; heavenly things already replace earthly ones, greatness replaces smallness, the eternal replaces what decays. Given all this, why should anyone here feel fear or unease? Who amid such things could remain timid and gloomy, unless hope and faith have deserted him? Fearing death belongs only to one unwilling to go to Christ; and unwillingness to go to Christ belongs only to one who cannot believe he is beginning to reign together with him.
It is written: the just man lives by faith. Suppose you are just and live by faith, and suppose you genuinely believe [in God] — then, being destined to be with Christ and assured by the Lord's own promise, why not embrace the fact that a summons to Christ awaits you, and take joy in your release from the devil? Consider Simeon: a man truly righteous, who kept God's commands in full faith. When it had been divinely disclosed to him that death would not come before he had seen Christ, and Christ, still an infant, was brought with his mother into the temple, Simeon perceived in spirit that the one foretold to him had now been born, and having looked on him, knew his own death was near. Glad, then, that his death was now close and untroubled by the approaching summons, he took the child in his arms, blessed God, and cried aloud: 'Now, Lord, you release your servant, according to your word, in peace, since my eyes have seen your salvation' — thereby showing and affirming that only then is there true peace for God's servants, only then true liberty, only then tranquil rest, when we have been drawn out of these worldly whirlwinds and have sought the harbor of rest and everlasting safety, when, this death cancelled, we arrive at immortality. That, indeed, is our peace; that is our trustworthy calm; that is our lasting, firm, and perpetual security.
For what else does this world wage but a daily battle against the devil, a constant struggle carried out in unceasing clashes against his darts and weapons? We contend against greed, against unchastity, against wrath; against ambition there is engagement too, and a continual, wearisome wrestling against fleshly vices and the world's enticements. Besieged and hemmed in on every side by the devil's assaults, the human mind scarcely manages to meet them one by one, scarcely holds its ground: let greed be thrown down, and lust rises in its place; suppress lust, and ambition steps forward to succeed it; scorn ambition, and wrath provokes, pride swells, drunkenness beckons, envy tears concord apart, jealousy cuts friendship off. You are compelled to curse, though divine law forbids it; you are forced to swear, though it is not permitted.
So many persecutions the soul suffers day by day, so many dangers press on the heart — yet is it pleasant to linger here long among the devil's drawn swords? It ought instead to be desired and longed for that, with Christ's aid, we hurry all the more swiftly toward him by way of death, as he himself teaches us, saying: 'Amen, amen, I say to you, that you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall turn into joy.' Who would not wish to be rid of sorrow, who would not race to reach joy? And as for when our sorrow turns to joy, the Lord himself declares it again, saying: 'Again I will look upon you, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away.' Since, then, to see Christ is itself to rejoice, and there can be no joy for us unless Christ has been seen, what blindness of mind, what madness is it to love this world's pressures and punishments and tears rather than hurrying toward the joy that can never be stripped away!
This happens, dearest brothers, because faith is in short supply — because no one trusts that what the truthful God promises is real, God whose word to those who believe stands eternal and firm. If some serious and respected man made you a promise, you would put your trust in him and would not think yourself cheated or misled by one you knew to be reliable in both word and deed. God speaks to you directly, and yet you waver, faithless, your mind full of doubt? God pledges immortality and eternity to whoever departs this world, and still you hesitate? Not to grasp this at all is not to know God; to sin through unbelief in this way is to insult Christ, the very teacher of belief; and though established within the church, to lack faith while dwelling in the household of faith is exactly this.
Christ himself, the teacher of both our salvation and our good, showed how great a benefit it is to depart this world: when his disciples grew sorrowful on hearing that he would soon withdraw, he spoke to them, saying, 'If you had loved me, you would be glad that I go to the Father' — by which he taught and showed that when those we love pass from this world, the fitting response is joy, not grief. Recalling this very teaching, the blessed apostle Paul says in his letter that living, for him, means Christ, and that dying is his profit — he reckons it the richest profit of all to be freed at last from the world's snares, no longer answerable to sin and the flesh's failings, but, delivered from crushing burdens and released from the devil's venomous grip, to set out at Christ's call toward the gladness of salvation without end.
Yet some indeed are troubled that this disease strikes our people equally along with the pagans — as though a Christian believed on condition that, untouched by any contact with evil, he might enjoy this world and this age happily, rather than being reserved for future joy after enduring every hardship here. Some are troubled that this mortality falls on us in common with everyone else. But what in this world is not shared with the rest of humanity, so long as this flesh still remains bound to the law of our first birth? As long as we remain here in the world, we are joined to the human race through the sameness of flesh, even while separated from it in spirit. And so, until this corruptible thing puts on incorruption, until this mortal thing takes on immortality, and until the spirit brings us home to God the Father, whatever afflictions belong to the flesh we hold in common with the human race. Just so, when the earth lies barren from a failed crop, famine spares no one; just so, when some city falls to a hostile assault, captivity lays waste to everyone together; and when clear skies withhold their rain, the same drought touches all; and when rocky shoals break a ship apart, shipwreck claims without exception everyone aboard; and eye-ache and the onset of fevers and the failing of every limb we bear in common with the rest, for as long as this shared flesh is carried through the world.
Rather, if a Christian knows and holds fast to the terms, the very law, under which he came to believe, he will understand that more labor falls to him in this world than to others, and that he must wrestle harder against the devil's assault. Divine scripture teaches and gives this warning beforehand: 'My son, when you come near to serve the Lord, prepare your soul for testing, standing firm in righteousness and fear'; and again: 'In sorrow, hold on; in your humbling, keep patience, for gold and silver are proved in the fire.'
So Job — after losing his possessions, after burying his own children, and grievously afflicted besides with wounds and worms — was not defeated but proved; amid the very struggles and griefs he bore, he displayed the patient endurance of a devout mind, saying: 'Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return beneath the earth. The Lord gave, the Lord has taken; as it pleased the Lord, so it has come to pass. May the Lord's name be blessed.' And when his wife pressed him, hoping the pain he could not bear would draw from him some bitter, resentful word against God, he answered her that she spoke as any foolish woman might, and asked whether, having accepted good from the Lord's hand, they should now refuse the bad. Through everything that happened to him, Job committed no sin with his mouth before the Lord's face. And so the Lord God himself testifies concerning him, saying: 'Have you taken note of my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him — a man beyond reproach, a true worshiper of God.' And Tobit too, after magnificent deeds and after the many glorious reports of his mercy, suffered blindness of the eyes; yet fearing and blessing God amid his troubles, he grew through that very ruin of his body toward praise — he too whom his own wife tried to turn aside, saying, 'Where now are your righteous deeds? Look what you are suffering.' But he, steadfast and firm in reverence for God, armed by religious faith to bear every kind of suffering, did not give way to his weak wife's grieving provocation, but rather won greater favor with God through his patience — he whom the angel Raphael afterward commends, saying: 'To disclose and acknowledge God's works is a worthy thing. For when you and Sarah were praying, I brought the record of your prayer before the glory of God; and when, without hesitation, you buried the dead, not delaying to rise and leave your meal but going and laying the body out, I was sent to test you; and again God sent me to heal you and your daughter-in-law Sarah — for I, Raphael, am one of the seven holy angels who stand in attendance before God's glory.'
The righteous have always kept to this same endurance; the apostles, too, held fast to this discipline drawn from the Lord's own law — not to grumble under hardship, but to meet whatever befalls in this world with courage and patience, since the Jewish people always failed on this one point, murmuring against God far too readily, just as the Lord God testifies in the fourth book of the law, where he says: 'Stop their grumbling against me, and they will not die.' Dearest brothers, we must not grumble under hardship, but must endure whatever comes with courage and patience, for it is written: 'A broken spirit is the sacrifice acceptable to God; a heart crushed and humbled God will not spurn.' Through Moses, likewise, the Holy Spirit gives this warning in Deuteronomy: 'The Lord your God will afflict you and bring hunger upon you, so that it becomes known in your heart whether you have kept his commandments well or not'; and again: 'The Lord your God puts you to the test, to learn whether you cherish him with your whole heart and your whole soul.'
So Abraham pleased God, because in order to please him he did not shrink from the possible loss of his son, nor refuse to carry out what would amount to slaying his own child. As for you, who cannot even lose a son through the ordinary law and chance of mortality — what would you do if ordered to kill your own son? Fear of God together with faith should ready you to face anything. Let there be loss of household property; let there be the constant, bloody torment of the body worn down by harassing disease; let there be the sorrowful wrench of parting, through the deaths of wife or children or other departing loved ones — let none of this become for you an obstacle, but rather a battle, something that should neither weaken nor break a Christian's faith, but rather display strength in the struggle, since trust in the goods to come ought to make one despise every wrong done by present evils. Without a fight going first there can be no victory; once victory has come through the clash of battle, only then is the crown given to the victor. A storm reveals the pilot; the battle line tests the soldier. Boasting is cheap where there is no danger; but where hardship brings real conflict, there truth is proved. A tree rooted deep is unmoved by leaning gusts, and a ship built solid with strong joints is struck by the waves yet not broken open; and when the threshing floor beats out the grain, the strong and sturdy kernels scorn the wind, while only the empty chaff gets swept off on the passing breeze.
So too the apostle Paul, after shipwrecks, after floggings, after many grave torments of flesh and body, says he was not tormented by these hardships but corrected by them, so that the more severely he suffered, the more truly he might be proved. 'A thorn in my flesh was given to me,' he says, 'a messenger of Satan sent to beat me, so that I should not grow proud. About this I begged the Lord three times, that it might leave me, and he told me: My grace is enough for you, for power comes to its fullness in weakness.' So then, whenever some weakness or frailty or devastation spreads, that is when our strength reaches perfection; that is when faith, once tested and standing firm, is crowned — just as it is written: 'The furnace proves the potter's vessels, and the trial of tribulation proves righteous men.' This, in short, marks the difference between us and those who do not know God: they complain and grumble under hardship, while adversity does not draw us away from the truth found in virtue and faith, but rather confirms us within our suffering.
That the body's strength is now being drained by a flow loosening the bowels; that a fire kindled deep within the marrow flares up as sores in the throat; that constant vomiting convulses the intestines; that the eyes blaze from a rush of blood; that in some the feet or other parts of their limbs are cut away because rotting disease has infected them; that through the wreck and loss of bodies as sickness breaks out, walking is weakened, or hearing blocked, or sight blinded — all of this serves as evidence of faith. What greatness of heart it takes to face so many onslaughts of ruin and death without the soul's strength being shaken; what loftiness, amid the wreck of the human race, to stand upright rather than lie flat alongside those who hold no hope in God at all, and instead to rejoice and seize the gift the moment offers — since, while we hold firmly to the profession of our faith and, having endured the labor, press on toward Christ along Christ's own narrow road, we may receive, by his own judgment, the reward belonging to that road and that faith. Let the man fear death truly who, unreborn of water and spirit, is handed over to Gehenna's fires. Let him fear death who bears no mark of Christ's cross and passion. Let him fear death who will pass from this death into the second one. Let him fear death whom, as he departs the world, an unending flame will torment with endless punishment. Let him fear death, the one granted this delay only so that his suffering and groaning may for now be put off.
Many among ours die during this mortality — which is to say, many among ours are being set free from this world. This plague is a scourge to Jews and pagans and enemies of Christ alike, but for God's servants it is a beneficial departure. Because it strikes without regard for status across the whole human race, the just perish along with the rest — do not therefore suppose that ruin falls equally on the wicked and the good. The just are summoned to refreshment, while the unjust are hauled off to punishment; protection comes swiftly to the faithful, punishment to the faithless. We are careless and thankless, dearest brothers, toward what God gives us, failing to recognize the gift bestowed on us. See how virgins pass on safely and at peace, carrying their glory with them, unafraid of Antichrist's threats and corruptions and brothels. Children escape the risk of their unstable years, arriving happily at the reward due their innocence and restraint. The pampered matron no longer dreads torment, having gained through the swiftness of her death freedom from fear of persecution and from the executioner's hands and cruelties. Those once fearful are set on fire by dread of this deadly hour; the slack are drawn taut, the idle roused, deserters forced back into the ranks, pagans driven to believe; the church's older faithful are called to their rest, while for the coming fight a fresh and plentiful army gathers with sturdier resolve, prepared to meet the battle unafraid of death whenever it comes, since it enlists for service in this very season of mortality.
What, then, dearest brothers, of this — how fitting it is, how relevant, how necessary, that this plague and pestilence, horrible and deadly as it appears, should test each person's righteousness and probe the disposition of the whole human race: whether the healthy tend the sick, whether kin show devoted love to their relatives, whether masters take pity on their ailing slaves, whether physicians refuse to abandon patients who beg for help, whether the violent hold back their fury, whether the greedy, even out of fear of death, quench the ever-raging, insatiable fire of their avarice, whether the arrogant bend the neck, whether the wicked temper their boldness, whether the rich, even now, give something to their dying loved ones and make bequests though they will die without heirs. Even had this mortality granted nothing else, it has given Christians and God's servants this above all: that we have come gladly to seek out martyrdom, in the process learning to set aside the fear of death. For us these are training exercises, not funerals — they lend the soul the glory that comes from courage, and by teaching contempt for death, prepare it for the crown.