Letter 1007: I have found what your Blessedness has written to be as rest to the weary, as health to the sick, as a fountain to the thirsty, as shade to the oppressed with heat. For those words of yours did not seem even to be expressed by the tongue of the flesh, inasmuch as you so disclosed the spiritual love which you bear me as if your soul itself were s...

Pope Gregory the GreatAnastasius|c. 590 AD|gregory great
illnessimperial politicsproperty economics
Military conflict; Miracles & relics

Gregory to Anastasius, Patriarch of Antioch.

Your Blessedness, your letter was like rest to the exhausted, medicine to the sick, water to the thirsty, shade to someone burning in the sun. Your words didn't feel like they came from a human tongue at all — it was as though your very soul were speaking directly, laying bare the spiritual love you have for me. But what followed was hard to bear: that same love urged me to take on these earthly burdens. You loved me spiritually first, and then — in a rather more worldly spirit, I think — pressed me down under a weight I didn't ask for. And so I've lost the steadiness of my inner life and the clear sight that contemplation used to give me. I say now, not as prophecy but from plain experience: "I am bowed down and brought low altogether" (Psalm 119:107).

The volume of business pressing on me is enormous. My mind simply cannot lift itself toward heaven. I'm tossed about by an endless stream of affairs; after the quiet of my former life, I'm battered by a stormy, turbulent existence. I find myself saying, honestly: "I have come into the depth of the sea, and the storm has overwhelmed me" (Psalm 69:2). You stand on the shore of virtue — stretch out your prayer to me before I go under.

As for your calling me "the mouth and the lantern of the Lord" and claiming I benefit so many: that only weighs on me. Where my faults should be corrected, I get praise instead. It doesn't help.

How completely I'm consumed by the noise of this place — I don't have the words for it. You can measure it by the brevity of this letter: that I can write so little to the person I love most.

One more thing: I've urged our gracious lords [the Emperor and Empress] as forcefully as I can to allow you to come here to Rome — to the threshold of Peter, prince of the apostles — with your full dignity restored, and to live with me for as long as God wills. For however long I am given to be near you, we could ease the weariness of this earthly pilgrimage by talking together about the home that lies ahead.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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