Letter 14: Heliodorus, originally a soldier, but now a presbyter of the Church, had accompanied Jerome to the East, but, not feeling called to the solitary life of the desert, had returned to Aquileia. Here he resumed his clerical duties, and in course of time was raised to the episcopate as bishop of Altinum. The letter was written in the first bitterness...

JeromeHeliodorus|c. 374 AD|jerome
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Barbarian peoples/invasions; Theological controversy; Persecution or exile

Letter 14: To Heliodorus, Monk (373-374 AD)

[Perhaps the most famous of Jerome's early letters, and one of the most celebrated pieces of Latin prose from this period. Heliodorus — originally a soldier, then a priest — had accompanied Jerome to the East but returned to Aquileia, unable to commit to the ascetic life of the desert. Jerome, still raw with the bitterness of separation, wrote this letter to reproach him and lure him back. The rhetoric is so powerful that Fabiola, a Roman noblewoman, memorized the entire letter. Heliodorus never did return to the desert; he eventually became bishop of Altinum.]

1. You know perfectly well how deep the bond between us is, so you can surely appreciate the love — the desperation, really — with which I tried to prolong our life together in the desert. This letter itself, blotted as you can see with tears, testifies to the grief with which I watched you leave. You played the child then, softening your refusal with gentle words, and I — caught off guard — didn't know what to do. Should I have kept silent? I couldn't disguise my longing behind a mask of indifference. Should I have begged harder? You would have refused to listen, because your love was not the equal of mine.

So rejected affection takes the only course left to it: unable to keep you when you were here, it pursues you now that you're gone. You asked me yourself, when you were leaving, to send for you once I'd settled in the desert, and I promised I would. Well, here is my invitation: come — and come quickly. Don't think about old ties; the desert is for those who have left everything behind. Don't let memories of the hardships we endured on our earlier travels hold you back. You believe in Christ — then believe his words too: "Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you" [Matthew 6:33]. Take no bag, no staff. The man who is poor with Christ is rich enough.

2. But what am I doing, pestering you again with entreaties? Enough coaxing! Rejected love has every right to be angry.

You have spurned my petition; perhaps you'll listen to a rebuke. What are you doing, you soft soldier, lounging in your father's house? Where are your ramparts? Your trenches? When did you last spend a winter in the field? Listen — the trumpet is sounding from heaven! The Commander is coming on the clouds [Revelation 1:7]! He is armed to conquer the world, and from his mouth comes a two-edged sword [Revelation 1:16] to cut down everything in its path. And what will you do? Go straight from your bedroom to the battlefield? From cool shade into scorching sun? A body accustomed to a tunic can't bear the weight of armor. A head used to a cap won't accept a helmet. A hand softened by idleness is galled by a sword-hilt.

Hear the proclamation of your King: "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters" [Matthew 12:30]. Remember the day you enlisted — when, buried with Christ in baptism, you swore allegiance to him, declaring that for his sake you would spare neither father nor mother. The enemy is now trying to kill Christ in your breast. The enemy's ranks are eyeing hungrily the sign-on bonus you received when you joined.

Should your little nephew cling to your neck — ignore him. Should your mother, with ashes in her hair and her dress torn open, show you the breasts that nursed you — pay no attention. Should your father throw himself across the threshold — step over him and keep walking. Fly to the standard of the cross with dry eyes. In a case like this, cruelty is the only true form of love.

3. A day will come — yes, it will come — when you will return as a victor to your true homeland and march through the heavenly Jerusalem crowned with glory. Then you will receive citizenship alongside Paul. Then you will claim the same honor for your parents. Then you will intercede for me — the one who pushed you onto the path of victory.

I am not unaware of the chains you'll plead as obstacles. My heart is not iron; I am not made of flint or suckled by a tigress. I've been through the same struggles myself. Now it's a widowed sister who throws her arms around you, begging you to stay. Now it's the household slaves, your foster-brothers since childhood, crying: "To what master are you leaving us?" Now it's an aged nurse, bent with years, and a beloved body-servant who exclaims: "Just wait until we die — then follow us to our graves." Perhaps your old mother too, her face furrowed and her breast sunken, recalls the lullaby she once sang you and adds her own entreaties. They may call you, if they like, "the sole support and pillar of your house." But the love of God and the fear of hell will snap such chains easily.

You'll argue that Scripture commands us to obey our parents [Ephesians 6:1]. Yes — but whoever loves them more than Christ loses his own soul [Matthew 10:37]. The enemy draws his sword to kill me, and I should worry about my mother's tears? Should I abandon Christ's service for the sake of a father to whom — if I truly serve Christ — I owe no funeral rites [Luke 9:59-60]? Peter's cowardly advice was an offense to the Lord on the eve of his passion [Matthew 16:23]. And when the brothers tried to hold Paul back from going to Jerusalem, his only answer was: "What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? I am ready not only to be imprisoned but to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus" [Acts 21:13]. The battering-ram of natural affection that so often breaches faith must bounce harmlessly off the wall of the Gospel. "My mother and my brothers are those who do the will of my Father in heaven." If they believe in Christ, let them wish me Godspeed as I go to fight in his name. And if they don't believe, "let the dead bury their dead" [Matthew 8:22].

4. "But all this," you argue, "only applies to martyrs." My brother, you are wrong — dangerously wrong — if you think there is ever a time when a Christian is not under attack. The moment you feel safest is precisely when you are most besieged. "Your adversary the devil, like a roaring lion, prowls about seeking someone to devour" [1 Peter 5:8]. He "sits in ambush in the villages; in hidden places he murders the innocent; his eyes watch for the helpless; he lurks in secret like a lion in his den; he lies in wait to catch the poor" [Psalm 10:8-9]. And you — you doze under a shady tree, an easy target? On one side, self-indulgence presses in; on the other, greed tries to break through. My belly wants to be my God in place of Christ. Lust would drive out the Holy Spirit that dwells in me and defile his temple [1 Corinthians 3:17]. I am pursued, I tell you, by an enemy "whose name is Legion and whose wiles are past counting." Wretch that I am — how can I claim victory when I'm being dragged away in chains?

5. Dear brother, weigh the various forms of sin carefully, and don't imagine that the ones I've mentioned are any less damning than idolatry itself. Hear what the apostle says: "Know this: no fornicator, no unclean person, no covetous man — who is an idolater — has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God" [Ephesians 5:5]. Everything that belongs to the devil reeks of enmity toward God, and what belongs to the devil is idolatry, since all idols are subject to him. Paul lays it down in unmistakable terms: "Put to death your earthly members: fornication, uncleanness, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry — for which things the wrath of God is coming" [Colossians 3:5-6].

Idolatry isn't limited to sprinkling incense on an altar or pouring libations of wine into a bowl. Greed is idolatry — otherwise the selling of the Lord for thirty silver coins was a righteous transaction [Matthew 26:15]. Lust is profanation — otherwise men may defile with common prostitutes those members of Christ which should be "a living sacrifice, acceptable to God" [Romans 12:1]. Fraud is idolatry — otherwise Ananias and Sapphira, who in Acts sold their property and held back part of the price, deserved something other than instant death. Think carefully, brother: nothing is yours to keep. "Whoever among you does not renounce all that he has," says the Lord, "cannot be my disciple" [Luke 14:33]. Why are you such a half-hearted Christian?

6. Look at Peter — he left his nets [Matthew 4:18-20]. Look at the tax collector — he stood up from his counter [Matthew 9:9]. In a single moment he became an apostle. "The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" [Matthew 8:20], and you're planning spacious halls and wide porticoes? If you expect to inherit the good things of this world, you can no longer be a co-heir with Christ [Romans 8:17].

You are called a "monk" — does the name mean nothing? What brings you, a solitary, into the crowd? The advice I give doesn't come from a sailor who has never lost a ship. I have been lately shipwrecked myself, and my warnings to other voyagers spring from my own terror. On one side, like Charybdis, self-indulgence sucks the soul's salvation into its whirlpool. On the other, like Scylla, lust — wearing a young girl's smiling face — lures it to wreck its purity. The coastline is savage, and the devil stands there like a pirate chief with chains ready for his captives.

Don't be credulous. Don't be overconfident. The sea can look as smooth and flat as a pond, barely ruffled by a breath of wind, and yet its waves can rise as high as mountains. The danger is beneath the surface; the enemy lurks below. Let out your sheets, spread your sails, and nail the cross as an ensign to your prow. The very calm you trust is itself the storm.

"But why?" you protest. "Aren't all my townspeople Christians?" Your situation, I reply, is not theirs. Listen to the Lord's words: "If you would be perfect, go, sell what you have, give to the poor, and come, follow me" [Matthew 19:21]. You have already promised to be perfect. When you left the army and made yourself "a eunuch for the kingdom of heaven's sake" [Matthew 19:12], you committed yourself to the perfect life. The perfect servant of Christ has nothing except Christ. If he has anything besides Christ, he is not perfect. And if he is not perfect after promising God he would be, his profession is a lie — and "the mouth that lies slays the soul" [Wisdom 1:11].

So: if you are perfect, don't set your heart on your father's estate. If you are not perfect, you have deceived the Lord. The Gospel thunders its warning: "You cannot serve two masters" [Luke 16:13]. Does anyone dare make Christ a liar by trying to serve both God and Mammon? He says it again and again: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me" [Luke 9:23]. If I load myself with gold, can I pretend I'm following Christ?

7. I know your next move: you'll insist that even though you possess nothing, you can wage the spiritual war from home. But can you? The Lord himself "could do no mighty works" in his own country [Matthew 13:58]. "No prophet is accepted in his own country" [Luke 4:24]. "But I don't seek honor," you'll say; "my conscience is enough for me." Neither did the Lord seek it — when the crowds wanted to make him king, he fled [John 6:15]. But where there is no honor there is contempt; where there is contempt, rudeness follows; where there is rudeness, vexation; where there is vexation, no rest; and where there is no rest, the mind strays from its purpose. The result: a monk cannot be perfect in his own country. And not to aim at perfection is itself a sin.

8. Pushed from that position, you'll point to the clergy: "They stay in their cities and no one criticizes them." Far be it from me to criticize the successors of the apostles, who consecrate the body of Christ with holy words, who give us our identity as Christians. Holding the keys of the kingdom of heaven, they judge men in some measure before the day of judgment and guard the purity of the Bride of Christ. But as I've said, a monk's case is different from a clergyman's. The clergy feed Christ's sheep; I, as a monk, am fed by them. They live from the altar [1 Corinthians 9:13-14]; if I bring nothing to it, the axe is already laid to my root as to a barren tree [Matthew 3:10]. I may not sit in the presence of a priest. He, if I sin, may hand me over to Satan "for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved" [1 Corinthians 5:5]. Under the old Law, disobeying a priest meant being stoned outside the camp or beheaded [Deuteronomy 17:5, 12]. Now the disobedient are cut down by the spiritual sword, expelled from the church, and torn apart by ravening demons.

Should your brethren persuade you to take holy orders, I will rejoice that you are raised up — and tremble lest you be cast down. "If a man desires the office of a bishop, he desires a good work" [1 Timothy 3:1]. Yes — but add what follows: "Such a man must be blameless, the husband of one wife, temperate, sober, modest, hospitable, a good teacher; not a drunkard, not violent, but patient" [1 Timothy 3:2-3]. The qualifications for deacons are equally strict: "Deacons must be serious, not double-tongued, not heavy drinkers, not greedy for money, holding the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. Let them first be tested; then let them serve, if they are found blameless" [1 Timothy 3:8-10]. Woe to the man who comes to the feast without a wedding garment! All that awaits him is the terrible question: "Friend, how did you get in here?" — and when he has no answer: "Bind him hand and foot and cast him into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" [Matthew 22:11-13].

9. Not all bishops are true bishops. Consider Peter — but remember Judas too. Look at Stephen — but look also at Nicolas, condemned in Revelation by the Lord's own voice [Revelation 2:6], whose vile fantasies spawned the Nicolaitan heresy. "Let a man examine himself, and so let him come" [1 Corinthians 11:28]. It is not rank in the church that makes a man a Christian. The centurion Cornelius was still a pagan when the Holy Spirit purified him. Daniel was a boy when he judged the elders. Amos was stripping mulberry bushes when he was suddenly made a prophet [Amos 7:14]. David was only a shepherd when he was chosen to be king. And the least of Christ's disciples was the one Jesus loved the most.

Brother: sit in the lowest seat, so that when someone less worthy arrives, you may be invited higher [Luke 14:10]. "On whom does the Lord rest? On the one who is lowly, contrite of spirit, and who trembles at his word" [Isaiah 66:2]. "To whom much is given, of him much will be required" [Luke 12:48]. "Mighty men shall be mightily tormented" [Wisdom 6:6]. No one should pride himself on mere physical purity at the judgment, for then "men shall give account for every idle word" [Matthew 12:36], and slander will be counted as murder [Matthew 5:21-22]. Paul and Peter now reign with Christ, and it is no small thing to take the place of one or to hold the office of the other. If you intend to build the tower, first count the cost [Luke 14:28]. Salt that has lost its flavor is "good for nothing except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot" [Matthew 5:13]. If a monk falls, a priest intercedes for him — but who intercedes for a fallen priest?

10. At last my argument has cleared the reefs; at last this frail vessel has passed through the breakers into open water. Now I can spread my sails to the wind, and my closing words will be like the joyful shout of sailors making port.

O desert, bright with the flowers of Christ! O solitude, from which come the stones that build the city of the great King in the Apocalypse [Revelation 21:19-20]! O wilderness, blessed with the special presence of God!

What keeps you in the world, brother — you who are above the world? How long will gloomy rooftops weigh you down? How long will smoky cities imprison you? Believe me, where I am there is more light than where you are. It is sweet to cast off the burden of the body and soar into the pure, bright air.

Do you fear poverty? Christ calls the poor blessed [Luke 6:20]. Does hard labor frighten you? No athlete is crowned except through sweat. Are you anxious about food? Faith fears no famine. Do you dread the bare ground for limbs wasted by fasting? The Lord lies beside you there. Does an unwashed head and unkempt hair repel you? Christ is your true head. Does the boundless emptiness of the desert terrify you? In the spirit you can walk through paradise at will. Whenever you lift your thoughts to heaven, you are no longer in the desert.

Is your skin rough and flaking because you no longer bathe? "He who has been washed in Christ need not wash again" [John 13:10]. To all your objections the apostle gives one answer: "The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us" [Romans 8:18]. You are too greedy for pleasure, brother, if you want to enjoy the world now and reign with Christ hereafter.

11. It will come — yes, it will come — that day when "this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on immortality" [1 Corinthians 15:53]. Then blessed will be the servant whom the Lord finds watching [Matthew 24:46]. Then, at the sound of the trumpet [1 Thessalonians 4:16], the earth and all its peoples shall tremble — but you will rejoice. The world will howl when the Lord comes to judge it. The nations will beat their breasts. Kings who were once mighty will tremble in their nakedness. Venus will be exposed, and her son with her. Jupiter, with all his thunderbolts, will stand trial. Plato and his disciples will be revealed as fools. Aristotle's arguments will count for nothing.

But you — poor and unlettered as you may seem — you will exult and laugh, and say: "Behold my crucified Lord! Behold my judge! This is the one who was once an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, crying in a manger [Luke 2:7]. This is the one whose parents were a working man and a working woman. This is the one who was carried to Egypt in his mother's arms — God, and yet a fugitive from men. This is the one who was dressed in a scarlet robe and crowned with thorns [Matthew 27:28-29]. This is the one they called a sorcerer, a demoniac, and a Samaritan [John 8:48]. Look, Jew — look at the hands you nailed to the cross! Look, Roman — look at the side you pierced with your spear! See, both of you, whether this is the body that the disciples supposedly stole away by night" [Matthew 27:64].

Brother: it is love that has driven me to say all this. May the life you find so hard now win you your reward on that day.

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

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