Liber Quartus, Caput VI. Pontifici non convenire, utpote gravioribus intento, rei domesticae curam; proindeque alteri potius oeconomo committendam

Liber Quartus, Caput VI. Pontifici non convenire, utpote gravioribus intento, rei domesticae curam; proindeque alteri potius oeconomo committendam

You're weary of the curia now; you have to leave the palace — they're waiting for us at home. These people aren't just around you — in a way, they're within you. It isn't pointless to consider how you aim to manage your household and provide for those in your own bosom and lap. I say it's also necessary. Listen a moment: if someone doesn't know how to manage his own household, how will he show care for the Church of God?^✦ Likewise: if anyone doesn't care for his own people, especially those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.^✦ And in saying this, I'm not telling you — occupied with the highest matters — to turn your attention to the lowest and, as it were, make yourself small; or to spend on the smallest things what you owe to the greatest. Why entangle yourself where God has rescued you from? He says, "These things will be added to you." Still, you need to do these things and not neglect those. But while doing those things through you, it is also necessary for you to provide for those who provide for you. If one of the servants isn't enough by himself to handle both the care of the pack animals and the care of the tables, how can you attend to your household and the Lord's at the same time? On this it is written: "O Israel, how great is the house of the Lord!" Your mind needs to be completely free from worrying about lesser, lowly matters so that it can focus on greater and more important things. A free person shouldn't be taken over by any consuming occupation. A noble person shouldn't be dragged down by any unworthy attachment. The one who is upright must be someone no sideways intention turns away. The one who is cautious must be someone no secret suspicion steals into. The one who is watchful must be someone no wandering and meddlesome thought leads away from himself. The one who is firm must be someone no sudden disturbance shakes. The one who is unconquered must be someone no tribulation, even continual, wears down. The one who is ample must be someone no loss of a temporal thing confines. You shouldn't doubt that you'll be both deprived of good things and struck down by bad ones if you divide your mind and try to share it equally between God's affairs and your own concerns. The person you bring in to manage things should be someone who will labor on your behalf. I'm speaking for your good, not with you. Some things you'll do yourself; some things through yourself and others together; and some things through others, without you. Who is wise and will understand these things? There's no reason your consideration should slumber among these matters. For my part, I'd judge that the management of your household, under that last category I mentioned, should be leased out. As I said, you'll do those things through another. But that man, if he isn't faithful, will cheat you; if he isn't prudent, he'll be cheated. So you need to find a faithful and prudent man and put him in charge of your household. He's still useless if a third thing is missing. You ask what this is? Authority. After all, what good does it do him to want and know how to arrange everything as needed if he can't carry out what he knows and wants? So he must be given the freedom to act as he sees fit. If you think this is done at the expense of good order, remember the faithful man who will still want to act according to reason; consider the prudent man who will still know how to act according to reason. But a faithful and skillful will is only useful when he has everything he needs at hand to carry it all out smoothly, with everyone obeying without hesitation. So everyone must be subject. He shouldn't tolerate anyone contradicting him. No one should be allowed to say, Why did you do that? He should have the authority to exclude and admit whomever he wishes, and to replace ministers and transfer offices to whomever and whenever he wishes. Everyone should stand in awe of him, so that they may also profit from him.¹ He should preside over all, so that he may benefit everyone in everything.² Don't entertain secret and whispered accusations against him: you should treat them as detractions rather than charges.³ And I would want you to establish this general rule: that you consider suspect anyone who is afraid to say openly what he said in your ear.⁴ But if, once you've judged it necessary to speak in that person's presence, he refuses, then you should consider him an informer, not an accuser. So let one person assign all the tasks, and let everyone answer to that one person. You entrust yourself to that person, free to devote yourself and God's Church. If that's not possible, then if someone is found to be either faithful or prudent, the task should be entrusted to the faithful one rather than the other. Of the two options, this one is certainly the safer. And yet, if no suitable person can be found, I'd rather put up with someone less trustworthy than drag yourself into this labyrinth. Remember that the Savior appointed Judas as treasurer. What's more degrading for a bishop than to be consumed by furniture and petty possessions, examining everything, prying into every detail, fretting over suspicions, and getting upset over every lost or neglected item? I say this to the shame of certain people like that, who scrutinize all their belongings every day, count up every single item, and demand an accounting of every tiny coin and penny. Not like that Egyptian who, having given everything to Joseph, had no idea what he owned in his own house.^✦ A Christian should be ashamed not to trust another Christian with his own affairs. A man without faith still trusted a servant with all his possessions — and that servant was a foreigner. It's an astonishing thing! Bishops have more than enough people to whom they can entrust souls and commit their own modest resources, yet they can't find anyone suitable. Clearly they're excellent judges of what matters — people who make a huge deal out of trivialities and little or no fuss over the things that matter most. But — as makes perfectly clear sense — we bear the loss of Christ more patiently than we bear our own. We render daily accounts for daily expenses, yet we're unaware of the constant losses sustained by the Lord's flock. With the ministers there's a daily reckoning over the price of provisions and the number of loaves, but a conference with the presbyters about the sins of the people is something exceedingly rare. A donkey falls, and there's someone to lift it up; a soul perishes, and there's no one who gives it a thought. And it's no wonder, since we don't even perceive our own constant failings. Aren't we quick to get angry, burn with passion, and feel anxious over these trivial matters? How much more bearable would it be to endure the loss of things than the loss of our minds! Why, he said, do you not suffer fraud more readily? I ask you, you who teach others, teach yourself: if you haven't already, consider yourself more valuable than your possessions. Let those transient things, which cannot remain with you under any agreement, pass away from you, not through you. A stream flows through and carves the earth: in the same way, the discourse of worldly matters gnaws at the conscience. If a torrent can flow into fields without harming the crops, then you should be able to handle these matters without wounding your mind. In every way, I advise you to avoid the distractions of these things. There are many things you shouldn't know, a great many you should keep to yourself, and not a few you should simply forget. Still, there are things I wouldn't want you to remain ignorant of — the character and pursuits of everyone around you. It isn't fitting for you to be the last to know the faults of your own household — something we have known to happen to very many. That's why, as I said, let someone else manage the deeper matters; you see to discipline — don't entrust that to anyone. If someone behaves more insolently in your presence, or insolent words are spoken — or an insolent appearance shows itself — bring your hand down on such behavior; avenge the offense against you. Impunity breeds daring, and daring breeds excess. A bishop's household calls for holiness, calls for modesty, calls for honor: discipline is the guardian of these. Priests of the household are either more honorable than the rest, or a laughingstock to everyone. In their facial expressions, their clothes, and the way they carry themselves, don't let anything shameless take root, and don't let anything indecent remain among those around you. Let your fellow bishops learn from you not to keep long-haired boys and fastidiously groomed young men in their company. Surely it isn't fitting for the curl-haired to go about among those who wear the mitre. And remember what the Wise One warns: "Daughters are yours?"⁵ Don't show them a cheerful face. And yet I'm not urging harshness on you, but gravity. The one drives away the weaker ones; the other restrains the more frivolous. The first, if it's present, makes you hateful; the second, if it's absent, makes you contemptible: yet in all things, moderation is better. I'd want neither too strict nor too lax. What's more welcome than this middle way, so that you're neither a burden because of your strictness nor looked down on because of your familiarity? In the palace, be the pope; at home, show yourself as the head of the household. Let your household love you; if they don't, make sure they fear you. Guarding your words is always useful, as long as it doesn't shut out a gracious approachability. So a reckless tongue must be reined in everywhere, but especially at the table. That's a more fitting bearing: if you're strict in action, serene in expression, and serious in speech. Your chaplains and those who continually share in the sacred offices with you shouldn't be without honor. It's your responsibility to provide yourself with men who are worthy. Let them be served by everyone as if they were you. Let them receive what they need from your hand. Let them be content with what you provide them; you see to it that they don't go without. If you catch visitors asking for this, judge it the Giezite case: the same rule must be decided for the doorkeepers and for the other officials. But this is said in full measure, for we recall that you already established this standard long ago. What could be more worthy of you than the apostolate? What is more wholesome for conscience, more honorable for reputation, more useful as an example? The best rule is one that rejects greed because of slander, not just because of conscience.