But what especially strengthens us in our desire for union with you is the account of your reverences’ [The reference is to three Egyptian bishops who had been exiled to Palestine during the Apollinarian controversy, namely, Eulogius, Alexander and Harpocration.] zeal for orthodoxy—the fact that neither by a vast number of treatises nor by subtlety of sophisms was your firmness of heart overcome, but that you recognized those who were making innovations contrary to the teachings of the apostles and did not consent to cover over in silence the harm done by them. Truly, we have found great grief among all those who are clinging to the peace of the Lord because of the manifold innovations of Apollinaris of Laodicea, [He introduced the first of the christological heresies. He denied that Christ’s human nature possessed a rational human soul. He was condemned for his views at the second ecumenical council (Constantinople I) in 381.] who has grieved us so much more in that he seemed to belong to our party in the beginning. In fact, any suffering from an evident enemy, even if the pain is excessive, can somehow be borne by the one afflicted, as it is written: “For if my enemy had reviled me, I would verily have borne with it.” But, to experience some hurt from one who is of like spirit and an intimate friend, this is most certainly hard to bear and holds no consolation. For, him whom we had expected to have as a fellow defender of the truth, him, I say, we have now found hindering in many places those who are being saved by perverting their minds and drawing them away from the right doctrine—St Basil the Great

Putting aside, therefore, conceptions due to common usage, let us reflect on the meaning of “to live in life” and “to die in death” and also “to live in death” and “to die in life.” I believe that, in accord with the Scriptures, “to live in life” signifies a wonderful life of happiness and that it seems to point toward an experience of life’s natural functions joined and, by participation, mingled with the grace of a blessed life. This concept, “to live in life,” means “to live in virtue,” to bring about in the life of this body of ours a participation in the life of blessedness. On the other hand, what does “to die in death” mean if not the disintegration of the body at the time of death, when the flesh is devoid of its customary function of carrying on life and the soul is unable to partake in life eternal? There is also the person who “dies in life,” that is to say, one who is alive in body but, because of his acts, is dead. These are the people who, as the prophet says, “go down alive into hell,” and she of whom the apostle speaks: “For she is dead while she is still alive.” There remains the fourth category, for there are those who “live in death” like the holy martyrs who give up their lives so that they may live. The flesh dies, but what is good does survive. Far from us, therefore, be the thought of living as participants in death. On the contrary, we should face death and thus become sharers in life. The saint does not desire to be a participant in this life of ours when he states, “To depart [this life] and be with Christ.” This has been much better stated by another: “Woe to me that my sojourning has been prolonged.” The psalmist was grieving because he had certain limitations due to the frailty of this life, since he hopes for a share in life eternal. Therefore I can … state that, although “to live in life” is a good thing, “to live for life” would be of doubtful benefit. One can speak of “living for life,” that is, for the life of eternity with its struggle with the life of the body. One can also speak of “living for life” in another sense. Anyone, even a pious person, can have a desire for this corporeal life of ours. We can take the example of one who thinks that he ought to live so virtuously as to arrive by his good actions at a ripe old age. Many people who are in weak health, but who still find life a pleasurable thing, are in this category—St Ambrose

The prophet … acknowledges his fault, recognizes his wounds and asks to be cured. One who wants to be cured does not shrink from correction. Still, he does not want to be chastised in the fury of indignation but in the word of God. God’s word is healing. As we read, “He sent his word and healed them.” [Psa 107:20(106:20 LXX).] David does not want to be corrected in wrath but to be disciplined in doctrine. It is as though you were to ask the surgeon not to apply his knife to your wound but to pour in ointment. He begs for the remedy but not for the knife. There is pain but not beyond measure. The remedy stings, but the patient’s blood does not flow—St Ambrose