Letter 145: I know the countless labours which you have undergone for the Churches of God; I know your press of occupation, while you discharge your responsibilities, not as though they were of mere secondary importance, but in accordance with God's will. I know the man who is, as it were, laying close siege to you and by whom you are forced, like birds cr...
Basil of Caesarea→Eusebius, Archbishop of Thessalonica|c. 365 AD|basil caesarea
arianismimperial politics
Military conflict; Personal friendship
Dear Eusebius [bishop of Samosata, a city on the Euphrates in eastern Turkey — a key ally of Basil's in defending Nicene orthodoxy],
I know how hard you've been working for the churches. I know how overwhelmed you are with responsibilities — responsibilities you treat not as secondary concerns but as God's own work. And I know about the man who has you practically under siege, keeping you pinned down like birds hiding from an eagle, afraid to stray far from shelter. [Basil likely refers to the Arian emperor Valens, whose policies forced orthodox bishops to stay close to home or risk exile.]
I know all of this. But longing is powerful — it makes us hope for the impractical and attempt the impossible. Or rather, hope in God is the most powerful thing of all. It's not wishful thinking that makes me believe you'll find a way past every obstacle and come visit the church that loves you more than any other. It's faith.
What this church wants more than anything is to see your face and hear your voice. Don't disappoint her. When I came back from Syria last year and told everyone about the promise you made me, you can't imagine how their hopes soared. Don't put off your visit again.
Even if you could come some other time, you might find the church — but not me. Illness is pushing me toward the door out of this painful life. Come soon.
ST. BASIL OF CAESAREA
To Eusebius, bishop of Samosata.
I know the countless labours which you have undergone for the Churches of God; I know your press of occupation, while you discharge your responsibilities, not as though they were of mere secondary importance, but in accordance with God's will. I know the man who is, as it were, laying close siege to you and by whom you are forced, like birds crouching in cover under an eagle, not to go far from your shelter. I know all this. But longing is strong, both in hoping for the impracticable and attempting the impossible. Rather I should say, hope in God is the strongest of all things. For it is not from unreasonable desire, but from strength of faith, that I expect a way out, even from the greatest difficulties, and that you will find a way to get over all hindrances, and to come to see the Church that loves you best of all, and to be seen by her. What she values most of all good things is to behold your face and to hear your voice. Beware then of making her hopes vain. When last year, on my return from Syria, I reported the promise which you had given me, you cannot think how elated with her hopes I made her. Do not, my friend, postpone your coming to another time. Even if it may be possible for you to see her one day, you may not see her and me too, for sickness is hurrying me on to quit this painful life.
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Source. Translated by Blomfield Jackson. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 8. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1895.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3202145.htm>.
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Dear Eusebius [bishop of Samosata, a city on the Euphrates in eastern Turkey — a key ally of Basil's in defending Nicene orthodoxy],
I know how hard you've been working for the churches. I know how overwhelmed you are with responsibilities — responsibilities you treat not as secondary concerns but as God's own work. And I know about the man who has you practically under siege, keeping you pinned down like birds hiding from an eagle, afraid to stray far from shelter. [Basil likely refers to the Arian emperor Valens, whose policies forced orthodox bishops to stay close to home or risk exile.]
I know all of this. But longing is powerful — it makes us hope for the impractical and attempt the impossible. Or rather, hope in God is the most powerful thing of all. It's not wishful thinking that makes me believe you'll find a way past every obstacle and come visit the church that loves you more than any other. It's faith.
What this church wants more than anything is to see your face and hear your voice. Don't disappoint her. When I came back from Syria last year and told everyone about the promise you made me, you can't imagine how their hopes soared. Don't put off your visit again.
Even if you could come some other time, you might find the church — but not me. Illness is pushing me toward the door out of this painful life. Come soon.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.