Here we are again with the second entry in the Origen, On Prayer series. We are starting in the second chapter in the St. Vladimir's Press edition. In the on-line edition, it is the same link as last week starting at in the fourth paragraph here: But I think, right pious and industrious Ambrosius, and right discreet and manful Tatiana, from whom I avow that womanly weakness has disappeared as truly as it had from Sarah of old, you are wondering to what purpose all this has been said in preface about things impossible for man becoming possible by the grace of God, when the subject prescribed for our discourse is Prayer.
In the previous discussion, we talked about Origen's recognition of how far God surpasses our understanding and how we only learn about God trough God's grace. In this next passage, we see Origen explicitly making the connection that prayer is also one of the topics which we cannot understand on our own power, but, with God's grace, we may be led to understand. Given my own experiences with prayer, I think Origen is right here.
I remember very clearly how, when I first became Christian, I had a lot of problems trying to figure out how to pray. My first prayer was an oldie, I grant - the Lord's Prayer - as a result of excellent advice from a friend. Still, I felt that I had to figure out how to pray (which is completely an oxymoron). My mistake was a common one. I was trying to figure out how to pray with my head, not by seeking God and learning in relationship with him. I'm still learning how to do that, but I think that is what we all need to do.
Of course, this common difficulty in learning to prayer has spawned a whole industry in Christian publishing- the majority of which are vapour and abstraction. We all, I think, have read that kind of book which leaves us more baffled and confused than when we started. The problem, I think Origen would say, with these books is that they do not pray with the Spirit. Of course, that is as baffling a comment, I'm sure, as anything in these kinds of books on prayer that I've just criticized. Yet what I think he's driving at is that prayer isn't about knowing how to pray, but rather learning the practice of relating to God.
In this section, Origen sets out his plan that he would speak about for what we ought to pray and how we ought to pray. This is not necessarily that unusual in writing about prayer; these are the concerns of almost all books on prayer. What is different is that Origen continues his emphasis that we only know God relationally. That is what I think he means by saying that we cannot pray unless the Spirit prays first. We, all too often, think of prayer as merely petitions and requests to an all-powerful, but faintly remote God. Rather, it is relationship with a God who wants to interact with us, who seeks to interact with us. Perhaps this is, after all, what we mean by inspiration because God knows that, if we relied on ourselves along, our human frailty would distract us from that conversation.
So, in the next section, we start into the body of the argument. As a warning, it seems the passages which follow keep an introductory paragraph dealing with Origen's biography. Just read past that and you'll get to the part that I propose to move onto in my next installment.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Patrisics Carnival XI- Call for Submissions

Well, it's time for Patristic Carnival XI!
This month's Carnival will be back here at hyperekperissou.
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be April 30th and the postings will be up later by the week of May 5th. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Peace,
Phil
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Origen Prayer Series- Part 1
Welcome to the opening of the Origen Prayer series. This week's text is here. Follow along with Origen, if you like, but, whatever you do, I hope that my readers will find today's installment helpful.
I had originally intended to focus on the first four chapters of On Prayer, but, as I was reviewing the first chapter or two, I decided that there was really enough here to spend time with. As I noted in my introduction, I'm not interested in merely summarizing or focusing only on the theological aspects of Origen's treatise, I want to consider carefully what is going on spiritually.
Origen's opening is what primarily interests me today. In fact, the first lines are useful to quote:
Sit and reflect on this comment for a bit. Part of what Origen is saying here is that we are incapable of understanding the things of God on our own abilities. This is an essential starting point from a mystical point of view. We do have to realize that God is so much greater than us that we really can't fathom what He is or even what He does.
So often, we want to put God in a box and assume that He is or is not what we say he is. In a sense, this is a way that we can assert control over God, if we can define Him and contain Him in our own intellectual system where He'll act in the way that we expect Him to act, but not in ways that we don't want Him to. It really doesn't matter which intellectual system we're talking about here - both conservatives and liberals do the same thing. The impulse is the same. We want to know about God, so we can have power over him.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), we don't have that luxury. God is much more complicated, mysterious and mystifying than we really want to admit. How could He not be? He created the universe, the world and us, after all. How can we compete with that? How can we expect to contain all that God is about, when we are the created, not the Creator? Like Job, what can we answer when God answers our complaints with
God's questions to Job lead us admitting our place in the universe and help us learn humility. We are not the masters of this or any universe. We don't really understand God, who is the source of our being, so how can we say that we control him or that we can speak for him. We can't - on our own resources and powers. We can, as Origen points out, barely understand or forecast what is happening here on Earth. How can we do it in heaven?
This is where the second half of Origen's comment comes in: that, despite our incapacity to know the truth about God, we can know about God only by God's own grace. That is, God's own free gift of grace includes within it the gift of wisdom, of discerning the things of God. What is impossible for us as men, God can and does give by grace.
Now, let's be very careful here. The possibility of self-delusion is so incredibly likely from so many different directions that we need God's grace to escape it. What Origen is driving at is that, while we are incapable of reasoning our way to understanding God, God will, by his grace, help us to understand Him. I think we have to understand this comment in a couple ways.
First, Origen does not separate the spiritual and the theological in the way that we do in the West or in modernity. We want to see theology as a merely intellectual endeavor. If we are clever enough, we will figure out what God is like and the various other theological/doctrinal conundra which plague us after twenty centuries of trying to figure God out. Origen would disagree with this because he believed firmly that we could not do theology - God-talk, if you like - without both actively praying to God and actually acting as his disciple in a holy life (that is, a life consistent with our Christian calling). Theology, prayer and service are not separate things in Origen, or in any of the Fathers. They are merely what we do as Christians. Nothing more, nothing less.
So, in a sense, what Origen is saying is that we cannot talk about prayer in a theological way without engaging in it and without seeking God's grace to help us understand it. If we do not pray, we have to ask how we think we can tell other people how to pray. If we do not pray to God, if we do not develop a relationship with a personal God, how can we talk about Him as we know all about Him? If God didn't relate back to us as a personal God, how can we understand him at all? We can't. He has already made that clear.
This brings me to my second point: Origen believes we can relate to God and that this relationship is and should be a major concern of a Christian. He dismisses the argument that God is so beyond us that we cannot relate to Him, not by denying that God is greater than us, but by emphasizing that God wants to relate to us. His grace is given to enable us to pray and to learn about Him. Our understanding of God, therefore, is not objective or scientific, but rather personal and relational. It is personal and relational because God gives us the grace to learn about Him through our minds and our hearts and our spirits.
I have been reflecting on this a bit over the last few days and I've realized that the reason why I'm a Christian is that God is a Person to whom I can and do relate. I really can't try to have a relationship with an abstract concept, with an Idea of God. I'm really not Platonic enough to do it and I can't deal with the abstraction. I need a personal God because I can only relate to a God to whom I can go to in prayer and in learning, so that I can learn more about the universe and more about how to turn my own capacity for self-delusion and 'kingdom' building' (all kingdoms of petty varieties like 'office politics' or wherever we feel the pull of dominating others) into serving others. I can't do it, but God can. A friend once commented that, at one point in his life, he spent all his time trying to be people's savior, until he finally realized Someone else had the job. And that is okay - and better than okay: it is perfect.
So, let's end in prayer:
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with us all evermore. Amen.
Peace,
Phil
I had originally intended to focus on the first four chapters of On Prayer, but, as I was reviewing the first chapter or two, I decided that there was really enough here to spend time with. As I noted in my introduction, I'm not interested in merely summarizing or focusing only on the theological aspects of Origen's treatise, I want to consider carefully what is going on spiritually.
Origen's opening is what primarily interests me today. In fact, the first lines are useful to quote:
Things in themselves so supremely great, so far above man, so utterly above our perishable nature, as to be impossible for the race of rational mortals to grasp, as the will of God became possible in the immeasurable abundance of the Divine grace which streams forth from God upon men, through Jesus Christ the minister of His unsurpassable grace toward us, and through the cooperation of the Spirit. Thus, though it is a standing impossibility for human nature to acquire Wisdom, by which all things have been established—for all things, according to David, God made in wisdom—from being impossible it becomes possible through our Lord Jesus Christ, who was made for us wisdom from God and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.
Sit and reflect on this comment for a bit. Part of what Origen is saying here is that we are incapable of understanding the things of God on our own abilities. This is an essential starting point from a mystical point of view. We do have to realize that God is so much greater than us that we really can't fathom what He is or even what He does.
So often, we want to put God in a box and assume that He is or is not what we say he is. In a sense, this is a way that we can assert control over God, if we can define Him and contain Him in our own intellectual system where He'll act in the way that we expect Him to act, but not in ways that we don't want Him to. It really doesn't matter which intellectual system we're talking about here - both conservatives and liberals do the same thing. The impulse is the same. We want to know about God, so we can have power over him.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), we don't have that luxury. God is much more complicated, mysterious and mystifying than we really want to admit. How could He not be? He created the universe, the world and us, after all. How can we compete with that? How can we expect to contain all that God is about, when we are the created, not the Creator? Like Job, what can we answer when God answers our complaints with
"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid the cornerstone-while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted with joy" Job, 38, 2-7. NIVAnd on and on, as God asks Job (and us) the mysteries of the universe, knowing we can't answer. And we still can't answer most of these questions.
God's questions to Job lead us admitting our place in the universe and help us learn humility. We are not the masters of this or any universe. We don't really understand God, who is the source of our being, so how can we say that we control him or that we can speak for him. We can't - on our own resources and powers. We can, as Origen points out, barely understand or forecast what is happening here on Earth. How can we do it in heaven?
This is where the second half of Origen's comment comes in: that, despite our incapacity to know the truth about God, we can know about God only by God's own grace. That is, God's own free gift of grace includes within it the gift of wisdom, of discerning the things of God. What is impossible for us as men, God can and does give by grace.
Now, let's be very careful here. The possibility of self-delusion is so incredibly likely from so many different directions that we need God's grace to escape it. What Origen is driving at is that, while we are incapable of reasoning our way to understanding God, God will, by his grace, help us to understand Him. I think we have to understand this comment in a couple ways.
First, Origen does not separate the spiritual and the theological in the way that we do in the West or in modernity. We want to see theology as a merely intellectual endeavor. If we are clever enough, we will figure out what God is like and the various other theological/doctrinal conundra which plague us after twenty centuries of trying to figure God out. Origen would disagree with this because he believed firmly that we could not do theology - God-talk, if you like - without both actively praying to God and actually acting as his disciple in a holy life (that is, a life consistent with our Christian calling). Theology, prayer and service are not separate things in Origen, or in any of the Fathers. They are merely what we do as Christians. Nothing more, nothing less.
So, in a sense, what Origen is saying is that we cannot talk about prayer in a theological way without engaging in it and without seeking God's grace to help us understand it. If we do not pray, we have to ask how we think we can tell other people how to pray. If we do not pray to God, if we do not develop a relationship with a personal God, how can we talk about Him as we know all about Him? If God didn't relate back to us as a personal God, how can we understand him at all? We can't. He has already made that clear.
This brings me to my second point: Origen believes we can relate to God and that this relationship is and should be a major concern of a Christian. He dismisses the argument that God is so beyond us that we cannot relate to Him, not by denying that God is greater than us, but by emphasizing that God wants to relate to us. His grace is given to enable us to pray and to learn about Him. Our understanding of God, therefore, is not objective or scientific, but rather personal and relational. It is personal and relational because God gives us the grace to learn about Him through our minds and our hearts and our spirits.
I have been reflecting on this a bit over the last few days and I've realized that the reason why I'm a Christian is that God is a Person to whom I can and do relate. I really can't try to have a relationship with an abstract concept, with an Idea of God. I'm really not Platonic enough to do it and I can't deal with the abstraction. I need a personal God because I can only relate to a God to whom I can go to in prayer and in learning, so that I can learn more about the universe and more about how to turn my own capacity for self-delusion and 'kingdom' building' (all kingdoms of petty varieties like 'office politics' or wherever we feel the pull of dominating others) into serving others. I can't do it, but God can. A friend once commented that, at one point in his life, he spent all his time trying to be people's savior, until he finally realized Someone else had the job. And that is okay - and better than okay: it is perfect.
So, let's end in prayer:
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with us all evermore. Amen.
Peace,
Phil
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Prayer and Patristics- Origen and How to Pray.
One of the themes that my readers of this blog may have recognized in my writing recently is that growing sense among evangelicals that going back to the Fathers is important. That, I think, is a good development and something that all of us who are interested in patristics and trust in tradition to some degree-Anglican, Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox- should encourage. The Fathers bring important resources to understanding the Bible, our faith and our tradition, so I firmly believe that Christians of all persuasions should be interested in what they say (even if most will not specialize in the same way as, say, I do).
Yet, one of my worries about this evangelical/Protestant ressourcement is that it is still far too centred in the academic/intellectual sphere. That is, many of the early proponents of this ressourcement have been professors of church history and their students. This is fair enough, but what I worry about is that the application of this ressourcement has tended to be in challenging modernist biblical hermeneutics or Protestant historical amnesia or other such theological abstractions. Now, I'm not saying these theological issues are unimportant for being somewhat abstract, but rather that they aren't the only thing that is important. Nor am I saying that patristic writers are only interested in or interesting because of their theological abstractions. In fact, I'm saying rather the opposite: the patristic writers are interesting because of their theology transcends the merely abstract propositionalism which, all too often, passes for theology these days.
So, what I'm proposing to do over the next few weeks is to consider the spiritual aspects of the Fathers through that consummate intellectual and noted mystic, Origen. Origen, of course, has something of an ambiguous position in the history of the Fathers. He is one of the few patristic writers who isn't a saint because of his occasional lapses into heresy. The problem, of course, with Origen was that he was brilliant. Most of the time he is brilliantly right, but when he goes wrong, he goes brilliantly wrong. Yet, it is hard not to take him seriously as a committed Christian, so his comments about the spiritual life are worth reading; even if one has to scan his comments with a heresiometer.
My proposal is that, after this introduction, I will work my way through Origen's tract, On Prayer. In this essay, Origen discusses what prayer is and how to do it in rather a systematic way. Normally, I should say, I fall asleep with this kind of approach, but Origen is so relentlessly biblical and so concerned with the spiritual reality that he is worth reading. I do want to note that I'm indebted to Jim (a frequent commenter on this blog) for this idea because, on the Orthodox Episcopal bulletin board, he proposed a discussion on this tract as a way to uncover what prayer should be (in the context of a rather arcane discussion). Unfortunately, busyness made it impossible for me to contribute as many comments as I'd like, so, in a sense, this post is an effort to make good my promises.
Well, the first part of these unfulfilled promises is to give an introduction to Origen, so here we go.
Origen was born to a Christian family, likely, in the 180s in Alexandria. He received a good education- the necessary elements of the mainstream, pagan learning, but also considerable Christian learning. His father, Leonidas, was martyred during a persecution and Origen was only just prevented from following his father in martyrdom because his mother hid the teenaged boy's clothes. Once peace was restored, it was necessary for Origen to earn a living to help his family, so he became the head of the Catechetical School in Alexandria; a post which he was to hold for the next 28 years. He was the perfect man for the post because he was immensely talented in philosophy, philology and had an exceptional understanding of Christian theology. He wrote an immense amount on these subjects-most of which has been lost. At first, Origen's relationship with his bishop(s) was good, but he increasingly found himself at odds with Bishop Demetrias. The fact that he preached as a lay person in Caesarea (Palestine) and, later, was ordained there (against the canon against eunuchs- a youthful ascetic excess which Origen later regretted) created a firestorm, so he left Alexandria with his library in 230 to set up a school in Caesarea. He continued his literary and preaching activities there, but was caught up in the Decian persecutions in 250. He died in prison from ill
treatment.
Origen was revered by the next few generations of theologians as an intellectual pioneer, especially in his synthesis of Middle Platonism and the Bible. Christian leaders such as Athanasius and the Cappadocians and heretics like Arius were influenced by Origen. However, beginning in the fourth century, a reaction began against the dodgier bits of Origen's legacy. Much of this reaction was justified, considering Origen's views on the pre-existence on souls were not supported by Biblical evidence. The result of this re-assessment is that much of Origen's writings were destroyed. Yet, he was so influential and so important to the theological development of many orthodox writers that he could not be totally discounted.
Origen's On Prayer is an theological treatise dealing with the confusions about prayer in the Christian community and Origen's answers. I'm really not sure about the dating of this work, but I suspect it is Alexandrian. What I like about the treatise is that it isn't a dry theological reflection, but shows an interest in developing an active prayer life. That is what appeals to me in discussing it.
Well, that is our introduction to the series. Next week, I will deal with the introductory part of Origen's treatise.
Yet, one of my worries about this evangelical/Protestant ressourcement is that it is still far too centred in the academic/intellectual sphere. That is, many of the early proponents of this ressourcement have been professors of church history and their students. This is fair enough, but what I worry about is that the application of this ressourcement has tended to be in challenging modernist biblical hermeneutics or Protestant historical amnesia or other such theological abstractions. Now, I'm not saying these theological issues are unimportant for being somewhat abstract, but rather that they aren't the only thing that is important. Nor am I saying that patristic writers are only interested in or interesting because of their theological abstractions. In fact, I'm saying rather the opposite: the patristic writers are interesting because of their theology transcends the merely abstract propositionalism which, all too often, passes for theology these days.
So, what I'm proposing to do over the next few weeks is to consider the spiritual aspects of the Fathers through that consummate intellectual and noted mystic, Origen. Origen, of course, has something of an ambiguous position in the history of the Fathers. He is one of the few patristic writers who isn't a saint because of his occasional lapses into heresy. The problem, of course, with Origen was that he was brilliant. Most of the time he is brilliantly right, but when he goes wrong, he goes brilliantly wrong. Yet, it is hard not to take him seriously as a committed Christian, so his comments about the spiritual life are worth reading; even if one has to scan his comments with a heresiometer.
My proposal is that, after this introduction, I will work my way through Origen's tract, On Prayer. In this essay, Origen discusses what prayer is and how to do it in rather a systematic way. Normally, I should say, I fall asleep with this kind of approach, but Origen is so relentlessly biblical and so concerned with the spiritual reality that he is worth reading. I do want to note that I'm indebted to Jim (a frequent commenter on this blog) for this idea because, on the Orthodox Episcopal bulletin board, he proposed a discussion on this tract as a way to uncover what prayer should be (in the context of a rather arcane discussion). Unfortunately, busyness made it impossible for me to contribute as many comments as I'd like, so, in a sense, this post is an effort to make good my promises.
Well, the first part of these unfulfilled promises is to give an introduction to Origen, so here we go.
Origen was born to a Christian family, likely, in the 180s in Alexandria. He received a good education- the necessary elements of the mainstream, pagan learning, but also considerable Christian learning. His father, Leonidas, was martyred during a persecution and Origen was only just prevented from following his father in martyrdom because his mother hid the teenaged boy's clothes. Once peace was restored, it was necessary for Origen to earn a living to help his family, so he became the head of the Catechetical School in Alexandria; a post which he was to hold for the next 28 years. He was the perfect man for the post because he was immensely talented in philosophy, philology and had an exceptional understanding of Christian theology. He wrote an immense amount on these subjects-most of which has been lost. At first, Origen's relationship with his bishop(s) was good, but he increasingly found himself at odds with Bishop Demetrias. The fact that he preached as a lay person in Caesarea (Palestine) and, later, was ordained there (against the canon against eunuchs- a youthful ascetic excess which Origen later regretted) created a firestorm, so he left Alexandria with his library in 230 to set up a school in Caesarea. He continued his literary and preaching activities there, but was caught up in the Decian persecutions in 250. He died in prison from ill
treatment.
Origen was revered by the next few generations of theologians as an intellectual pioneer, especially in his synthesis of Middle Platonism and the Bible. Christian leaders such as Athanasius and the Cappadocians and heretics like Arius were influenced by Origen. However, beginning in the fourth century, a reaction began against the dodgier bits of Origen's legacy. Much of this reaction was justified, considering Origen's views on the pre-existence on souls were not supported by Biblical evidence. The result of this re-assessment is that much of Origen's writings were destroyed. Yet, he was so influential and so important to the theological development of many orthodox writers that he could not be totally discounted.
Origen's On Prayer is an theological treatise dealing with the confusions about prayer in the Christian community and Origen's answers. I'm really not sure about the dating of this work, but I suspect it is Alexandrian. What I like about the treatise is that it isn't a dry theological reflection, but shows an interest in developing an active prayer life. That is what appeals to me in discussing it.
Well, that is our introduction to the series. Next week, I will deal with the introductory part of Origen's treatise.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Patristics Carnival X

Well, it's time for Patristics Carnival X and it has been a busy month, what with Easter and all that. Here are the offerings! Enjoy!
Front Gate: Introductions to the Fathers
Nothing new this month.
The Midway: Articles on the Fathers
Mike Aquilina on The Way of the Fathers blog discusses Andrew Louth's The Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition, reports on Pope Benedict's discussion of Pope Leo I, Pope Benedict's discussion of Cassiodorus and Boethius, announces six newly-found Augustinian sermons, offers ideas for a patristics book club,
Steve on the Triablogue blog discusses the use of the Vincentian canon (“What has been believed everywhere, always, and by all”) by Orthodox apologists against evangelicals.
Randall Cartar Grey on The Africans Whom Jesus Loved blog introduces the Early Church to the advent of the Apostles Creed and asks if the apostle John Mark was the apostle Jesus loved and the basis of the Prester John story.
Veith on the Cranach blog opens up a discussion on an Washington Post article on the Ancient-Future movement, inspired by the late Robert Wilkin.
David Neff on the Ancient Evangelical Future blog also discusses the above article from the Washington Post.
Jeff Reimer on the Mode of Expression blog discusses the importance of the patristic use of allegory as opposed to critical methods.
Haldon on the Inhabitatio Dei blog sets out his favourite Patristic theologians. I wonder, do you agree or do you have another list?
Zadok the Roman on The Commonplace of Zadok the Roman blog discusses applause in the Alexandrian church.
Marvin on the Avdat blog discusses how enthusiasm for Stanely Hauerwas' theology can lead to 'patristic fundamentalism' (an interesting new theological coined term). Since I like Hauerwas, I was interested in seeing his reasoning.
Aida on the Forgetting the Former Things blog offers her preliminary thoughts on the Viola/Barna book, Pagan Christianity. The Rodeo: Patristic catenae
James H on the Opinionated Catholic blog features St. Thomas Aquinas' Golden Catena on Peter's chopping off the ear of the high priest's slave.
Michael F. Bird on the Euangelion blog features a modest Augustinian/Origenian (I think?) catena on the Harmony of the Gospels.
Peter Leithart on leithart.com offers a pithy discussion of the alleged Hellenization implicit in the Trinity really isn't.
Felix Culpa on the Ora et Labora blog features a discussion of how 20th century Orthodox theologians have used Dionysius the Areopagite, part two, part three.
Eric Sowell on the Archaic Christianity blog introduces a new feature on authority in the Apostolic Fathers, starting with the Letter to Diognatus.
Rick Brannan on ricoblog discusses the use of alla in the Shepherd of Hermas. examines incidents of me genoito in Romans and the Epistle of Barnabas, muses over the authorship of Second Clement.
Tim Troutman (amicus noster) on the God Fearin' Forum has been busy this month. He discusses Minucius Felix' sidekick, Octavius on Intelligent Design, Octavius on Pro-Life issues, Octavius on blood in our food, Octavius on building temples and altars and discusses transubstantiation in the Early Church.
Exhibition Place: Biographies of the Fathers
Nothing new this month.
The Marketplace: Book Reviews
Albert McIlhenny on Christian Book Reviews features a discussion of Father Luigi Gambero's book, Mary and the Church Fathers- a recent contribution to the debate on the place of the Virgin Mary.
frival on the Utter Muttering blog features a very favourable review of Mike Aquilina's The Mass of the Early Christians.
Chris Tilling on the Chrisendom blog favourably reviews the Ancient Chrisitan Devotional from Inter-Varsity Press
aboulet on the finitum non capax infiniti blog reviews Ronald Heine's Reading the Old Testament through the Church Fathers.
Tim Troutman (amicus noster) on the God Fearin' Forum reviews Chesterton's Heretics.
The Foreign Exchange Tent: Translations
Mike on the en epheso blog compares Chrysostom translation versions, translates Chrysostom on Ephesians, 5,21, .
The Apocryphal Aisle: Christian Apocrypha
Eric Sowell on the Archaic Christianity blog discusses the Protoevangelion of John and again.
Tony Chartrand-Burke on the Apocryphicity blog continues his series on teaching Gnosticism with parts four and five, muses on the contribution of Christian Apocrypha to the Quest for the Historical Jesus, discusses Christian Apocrypha on film,
April De-Conick on The Forbidden Gospels blog reports on the Codex Judas conference in two reports (one and two) and discusses trinitarianism and modalism.
I think that is it for this month. If you are interested in taking on the hosting for May, I would be deeply grateful.
Peace,
Phil
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sulpicius Severus, Life of St. Martin 19
Here is the new installment of St. Martin's life.
Text:
Arborius was a man of prefectoral rank. He was faithful and had a very holy nature. When his daughter was burning with a very serious quatrain fever, Arborius placed a letter of Martin which, by chance, had been brought to him, in the bosom of the girl at the height of the fever and immediately the fever was put to flight. (2) This incident impressed Arborius so much that he immediately devoted the girl to God and declared her everlasting virginity. He went to Martin and brought with him the girl, the present testimony of Martin's virtues, who had been cured even in Martin's absence. Nor would he allow her to be consecrated or the habit of virginity imposed by anyone else but Martin.
(3) Paulinus, a man who would a little while later be a great example to the age, began to suffer grievously in an eye. Cloudiness began to cover over the pupil rather densely. Martin touched the eye with a brush and restored it to its earlier health with all the pain removed. (
4) Martin himself, when, he by some accident, fell headlong from an upper story after tripping on an uneven stair, suffered many wounds. While he lay half-dead in his cell and tortured with terrible pain, by night, an angel was seen washing the wounds and anointed the bruises of his body with a healing ointment. On the next day, he was restored to health so that one would think that nothing harmful had ever happened to him.
(5) But it takes a long time to go through each example. These few things shall suffice for the many incidents. It is enough that we do not take away from the truth in striking cases and that we avoid weariness in telling about many.
Commentary:
Here we come to the end of a fairly lengthy section on Martin's cures and miracles which come to a climax in an peculiar indication of divine favour. Before this, we have two healings of notable men. Arborius is described by St. Martin as having the rank of prefect, but doesn't indicate his office, if he was then holding one. I'm sure if I hunted him up in the Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, I'd find him, but, as I don't have that particularly useful behemoth of a resource on hand, I think that is about all I can say about him. A rank of prefect puts him in the higher echelons of Roman civil administration, so his testimony would have particular weight.
Paulinus, if I'm guessing right, is probably St. Paulinus of Nola, an associate of Sulpicius Severus and an important saint/bishop in Gaul in his own right. The coy reference to him being a little later a great example seems to support this identification, but I am always happy to hear if I'm wrong here.
The content of these first two miracles, I think, are straightforward. In the Arborius miracle, we find an object from St. Martin effecting the cure of Arborius' daughter. This kind of story, of course, drive Protestants a little crazy because it implies that the cure is effected by something akin to sympathetic magic: because St. Martin wrote/touched the letter, the letter itself is infused by his spiritual power. What this evokes is the practices from the time of the Reformation which saw practices such as indulgences or relics prey upon the credulity of the common people. I'm not saying, incidentally, that God can't effect miracles in this way, but that this kind of concept has, historically, been exploited by religious hucksters in such a way that makes Protestants very leery of entertaining stories like this.
Arborius' reaction to this miracle, making his daughter a nun, may strike us as an odd one, if not an offensive one, if we should adopt, say, a feminist critique of it. There is no doubt that the girl is simply expected to go along with it and Sulpicius did not see fit to say what she thought of the whole transaction. She was, after all, under the authority of her father, what kind of opinion could she expected to have, at least in Sulpicius' mind?. Yet, I think we have to be careful not to presume too much on the lack of evidence. It is possible that she agreed with Arborius' action and, in gratitude for her life, she also wanted to become a religious. We simple don't know.
The Paulinus miracles is rather more straight-forward, almost to the point of being prosaic. I'm not a doctor, of course, (perhaps someone with better medical knowledge can pronounce on this), but this seems to be the healing of a really bad eye infection by something which looks like a simple cleaning of the eye. I must admit that I do think the clouding of the eye may be indicative of cataracts, but I'm just not learned enough here to say for sure.
This brings me to the last miracle which is the climax of this section. Here it is Martin himself who is badly injured and on the edge of death. Here also Martin isn't the person who is curing, but the person being cured. Yet, the image of the angel washing his wounds seems to recall the Gospel accounts of the Temptation of Jesus in which, after Satan fails in his temptations of Jesus and leaves, the angels serve Jesus (Matthew 4,11; Mark, 1,13). I recognize this isn't the same thing as binding up wounds, but the idea, I think, is similar. That is, Jesus has undergone a difficult physical trial and the angels help him recover from it. I note that the verb used in both of these Biblical passages is also used for serving food to someone as a sort of waiter or servant. However, the common element is service by angels which is a sign of divine approval.
Yet, I also have to note a certain tentativeness in the Latin here. The verb used (visus est) is a passive form and, I think, is definitely kept vague about who was doing the seeing and how. I think it probably means that Martin saw it, but I don't know if it wants to distinguish between actually seeing it, seeing it in a dream or in a vision. Not that it matters, since the cure was effective.
The last part of this passage is a fairly straightforward transition to the next section. It is not unusual as we've found in this work for an ancient author to make a transition by emphasizing that the examples cited are only a few of the many incidents like this. Nor is it unusual for the idea of balancing giving a true picture of the person involved and not wearing the reader unduly to be brought out. This kind of affected humility is a favourite rhetorical stance of Sulpicius Severus and, indeed, many other authors, Christian and pagan.
So, next month we'll move on into a new section of Sulpicius Severus. We're down to the last eight chapters, so enjoy!
Peace,
Phil
Text:
Arborius was a man of prefectoral rank. He was faithful and had a very holy nature. When his daughter was burning with a very serious quatrain fever, Arborius placed a letter of Martin which, by chance, had been brought to him, in the bosom of the girl at the height of the fever and immediately the fever was put to flight. (2) This incident impressed Arborius so much that he immediately devoted the girl to God and declared her everlasting virginity. He went to Martin and brought with him the girl, the present testimony of Martin's virtues, who had been cured even in Martin's absence. Nor would he allow her to be consecrated or the habit of virginity imposed by anyone else but Martin.
(3) Paulinus, a man who would a little while later be a great example to the age, began to suffer grievously in an eye. Cloudiness began to cover over the pupil rather densely. Martin touched the eye with a brush and restored it to its earlier health with all the pain removed. (
4) Martin himself, when, he by some accident, fell headlong from an upper story after tripping on an uneven stair, suffered many wounds. While he lay half-dead in his cell and tortured with terrible pain, by night, an angel was seen washing the wounds and anointed the bruises of his body with a healing ointment. On the next day, he was restored to health so that one would think that nothing harmful had ever happened to him.
(5) But it takes a long time to go through each example. These few things shall suffice for the many incidents. It is enough that we do not take away from the truth in striking cases and that we avoid weariness in telling about many.
Commentary:
Here we come to the end of a fairly lengthy section on Martin's cures and miracles which come to a climax in an peculiar indication of divine favour. Before this, we have two healings of notable men. Arborius is described by St. Martin as having the rank of prefect, but doesn't indicate his office, if he was then holding one. I'm sure if I hunted him up in the Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, I'd find him, but, as I don't have that particularly useful behemoth of a resource on hand, I think that is about all I can say about him. A rank of prefect puts him in the higher echelons of Roman civil administration, so his testimony would have particular weight.
Paulinus, if I'm guessing right, is probably St. Paulinus of Nola, an associate of Sulpicius Severus and an important saint/bishop in Gaul in his own right. The coy reference to him being a little later a great example seems to support this identification, but I am always happy to hear if I'm wrong here.
The content of these first two miracles, I think, are straightforward. In the Arborius miracle, we find an object from St. Martin effecting the cure of Arborius' daughter. This kind of story, of course, drive Protestants a little crazy because it implies that the cure is effected by something akin to sympathetic magic: because St. Martin wrote/touched the letter, the letter itself is infused by his spiritual power. What this evokes is the practices from the time of the Reformation which saw practices such as indulgences or relics prey upon the credulity of the common people. I'm not saying, incidentally, that God can't effect miracles in this way, but that this kind of concept has, historically, been exploited by religious hucksters in such a way that makes Protestants very leery of entertaining stories like this.
Arborius' reaction to this miracle, making his daughter a nun, may strike us as an odd one, if not an offensive one, if we should adopt, say, a feminist critique of it. There is no doubt that the girl is simply expected to go along with it and Sulpicius did not see fit to say what she thought of the whole transaction. She was, after all, under the authority of her father, what kind of opinion could she expected to have, at least in Sulpicius' mind?. Yet, I think we have to be careful not to presume too much on the lack of evidence. It is possible that she agreed with Arborius' action and, in gratitude for her life, she also wanted to become a religious. We simple don't know.
The Paulinus miracles is rather more straight-forward, almost to the point of being prosaic. I'm not a doctor, of course, (perhaps someone with better medical knowledge can pronounce on this), but this seems to be the healing of a really bad eye infection by something which looks like a simple cleaning of the eye. I must admit that I do think the clouding of the eye may be indicative of cataracts, but I'm just not learned enough here to say for sure.
This brings me to the last miracle which is the climax of this section. Here it is Martin himself who is badly injured and on the edge of death. Here also Martin isn't the person who is curing, but the person being cured. Yet, the image of the angel washing his wounds seems to recall the Gospel accounts of the Temptation of Jesus in which, after Satan fails in his temptations of Jesus and leaves, the angels serve Jesus (Matthew 4,11; Mark, 1,13). I recognize this isn't the same thing as binding up wounds, but the idea, I think, is similar. That is, Jesus has undergone a difficult physical trial and the angels help him recover from it. I note that the verb used in both of these Biblical passages is also used for serving food to someone as a sort of waiter or servant. However, the common element is service by angels which is a sign of divine approval.
Yet, I also have to note a certain tentativeness in the Latin here. The verb used (visus est) is a passive form and, I think, is definitely kept vague about who was doing the seeing and how. I think it probably means that Martin saw it, but I don't know if it wants to distinguish between actually seeing it, seeing it in a dream or in a vision. Not that it matters, since the cure was effective.
The last part of this passage is a fairly straightforward transition to the next section. It is not unusual as we've found in this work for an ancient author to make a transition by emphasizing that the examples cited are only a few of the many incidents like this. Nor is it unusual for the idea of balancing giving a true picture of the person involved and not wearing the reader unduly to be brought out. This kind of affected humility is a favourite rhetorical stance of Sulpicius Severus and, indeed, many other authors, Christian and pagan.
So, next month we'll move on into a new section of Sulpicius Severus. We're down to the last eight chapters, so enjoy!
Peace,
Phil
Saturday, March 22, 2008
St. Melito of Sardis and Easter

Yesterday (Good Friday), I got an idea. I was casting around for some suitable Good Friday material and my gaze struck my copy of Melito of Sardis' On Pascha (the Vladimir Seminary Press edition). As I glanced at it, I realized that Melito made for excellent Good Friday (and Holy Saturday) reading. It isn't long, but is rich in its imagery and biblicism. Why, as the pictures show, my son even agreed! And we know how discerning a reader he is!

St. Melito, for those who don't know him, lived around 190 AD and was the bishop of Sardis. He was involved in the theological issues of his day, especially the Quartodeciman issue--which is especially appropriate this time of year, given that this dispute was over when to hold Easter. He also had a reputation, even among his opponents, as a prophet. The On Pascha is a reflection on the meaning of Easter, especially in light of the typology in the Old Testament which anticipated Jesus' death and resurrection.
The only way to describe Melito's style is baroque. It is written in the rhetorical style popular in the East at this time: Asiatic rhetoric (as opposed to the more spare Attic). That makes his style full of rhetorical tricks and effects which, even if this style isn't to your taste, takes your breath away. He takes the common images of Jesus in the Bible and just plays with them, combining and re-combining them to pull all possible meaning from them. Here is a good example of what I mean:
For he was born a son,
and led as a lamb,
and slaughtered as a sheep,
and buried as a man,
and rose from the dead as God,
being God by his nature and a man
He is all things.
He is law, in that he judges.
He is word, in that he teaches.
He is grace, in that he saves.
He is father, in that he begets.
He is son, in that his is begotten.
He is sheep, in that he suffers.
He is human, in that he is buried.
He is God, in that he is raised up.
This is Jesus the Christ,
to whom be the glory forever and forever. Amen.
On Pascha, 8-10
Melito's reflection begins with Exodus and the Passover, playing with the imagery of the lamb and its blood saving the people of Israel from the death of the firstborn of Egypt (described in full detail and pathos) and tying it in with Jesus' own death on a cross. He then moves on to Creation and the Fall. Then, he dwells on Jesus' death and on Israel's role in it (note that this section has opened Melito up for charges of anti-Semitism, so read with that in mind). He ends, of course, with Jesus' resurrection.
Throughout, he makes it clear that the types of Jesus represented in the Old Testament - notably the Passover Lamb, but also such figures as Isaac, Joseph et cetera - fade into insignificance in the light of Jesus' actual death and resurrection. While this encourages a certain supersessionism, the ardent desire to connect the Old Testament to Jesus is one of the strong points of Melito's writing. If we believe that we are only a graft onto the tree of Israel, we should be looking for anticipations of Jesus in the story of Israel. Melito makes it clear that these anticipations exist, but they are of less importance than the actual Jesus.
It is impossible, of course, to outline the whole book, so I can only counsel you to consider it for Lenten reading next year.
Meanwhile, I'll let Melito have the last word:
"It is I", says the Christ,
"I am he who destroys death,
and triumphs over the enemy,
and crushes Hades,
and binds the strong man,
and bears humanity off to the heavenly heights."
It is I", says the Christ."
On Pascha, 102.
Happy Easter!
Peace,
Phil
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Patristic Carnival X- Call for Submissions

Well, it's time for Patristic Carnival X!
This month's Carnival will be back here at hyperekperissou.
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be March 31th and the postings will be up later by the week of March 31st. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Thanks to Tim Trautman over at God Fearin' Forum for producing and sharing his logo for the Carnival! Now, I even feel official!
Peace,
Phil
Monday, March 17, 2008
Egeria and Pilgrimage to Jerusalem
Over Lent, my church has been studying about the Christian practice of pilgrimage in its various aspects: as personal voyage, as a metaphor for faith and actual literal pilgrimages. As part of a discussion about pilgrimage as an actual journey, I was asked to talk about the pilgrim Egeria and her Pilgrimage to Jerusalem, probably in the early 380s AD. I did that at the beginning of March and, now, in Holy Week, I thought it might be interesting to reprise my talk on this blog. So, here we go.
We know about Egeria through a rather mutilated manuscript called the Pilgrimage of Egeria (also known as Etheria). We really only have the middle part of the text, since the beginning and end sections have been lost. You can find the whole surviving text online here. We do get some supplementary bits in a 7th century letter in praise of Egeria by the monk Valerius.
So, what do these sources tell us about Egeria?
Egeria appears to have been a nun, likely from the Rhone Valley or Spain, who went on a four year (that we know of) pilgrimage to the Holy Land and the East. She likely went in the early 380s, at the tail end of the episcopate of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, who is mentioned indirectly in the text (having received applause by his catechumens for his lectures). She appears to have gone to Jerusalem twice in those years as well as Egypt (in the tracks of Moses), Arabia, Mesopotamia (in search of St. Thomas and King Absgar), Asia Minor and, finally, Constantinople. Along the way, she seems to visit any and every site connected with a biblical or apostolic figure. Included in this number are sites associated with Moses, Job, Melchizedek, Elijah, St. Thomas , King Absgar, Abraham and St. Thecla.
Given the nature of her writing (which is something of a travelogue style) It reminded me stylistically of a Periplus, a kind of handbook describing an itinerary of ports which a merchant might follow like the Periplus Maris Erythriae. She was, however, very detailed oriented, given excellent descriptions not only of her voyages, but, for the last half of our surviving manuscript, the ordinary and festal liturgies of the Church of Jerusalem. She shows familiarity with Jerusalem itself and a good understanding of liturgy and of the Bible.
She is writing at a time when the practice of a pilgrimage in the Holy Land was just taking off. Among our earliest mention of pilgrimage in the Holy Land are Constantine's and his mother, Helena's, joint pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 327/8 AD. Before this, we have no evidence of pilgrimages to the Holy Land. This makes sense considering not only that Christians would have found it difficult to organize such expedition considering the Christianity was illegal in the Roman Empire until Constantine's time, but also because the Romans were particularly sensitive about the site of Jerusalem after the three severe revolts between AD 66 and 135 in and around the Holy Land. Knowledge of the holy sites was likely preserved in the church of Jerusalem (or Aelia Capitolina as it was known by the Romans after the horrific sack of AD 70 and Hadrian's re founding on the site in the 130s). Knowledge of Jewish sites was also likely preserved by the surviving Jews in the region.
So, what do we learn about the pilgrimage to the Holy Land in the 380s. We can see that many of these sites were well-developed, with, at least, a few hermits (holy men) on the site, but often a monastery or a full-blown pilgrimage church on the site. The monks or clergy on the site were well-informed about the site and conducted regular tours/prayers for pilgrims. The Jerusalem (for Jesus' life) area and Egypt (for the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt) appear to have been particularly frequented, so the impression we get is of a well-organized and funded pilgrimage route, including the provision of stations on the Jerusalem route and military escort in the bandit-infested areas around the Sinai. Less frequented pilgrimage routes like Mesopotamia (for St. Thomas) were rather less developed, but had the advantage of personal attention, sometimes even by a city's bishop himself as happened to Egeria in Edessa.
The procedure at almost every site seems the same. A significant part of Scripture or extra-biblical material was read out. Offering were given (what these were are left unmentioned) and prayers offered. Often a Eucharist was performed, especially on the Sabbath. Here is a sample of one of the most spectacular of Egeria's stops, Mt. Sinai (taken from the kind people at CCEL:
Monks were particularly important for the pilgrimage. Indeed, the presence was almost constant in the desert regions around the pilgrimage sites mentioned by Egeria. Their assistance was critical for the running of these sites, since one or two could supervise a site quite readily. I suspect that, much of the time, all but the most popular pilgrimage routes would be fairly deserted, so the monks would get the solitude they craved for prayers, but that these visitors gave them the chance to practice hospitality. Egeria, certainly, seemed grateful for the hospitality and the care given to her by the monks. She notes
The presence of a military escort is similarly striking. We often associate the monks of the desert with a desire to escape the hustle and bustle of normal life, but we forget how dangerous the desert actually. The peace and quiet of the desert had to be shared by marginal figures such as thieves and brigands for whom the desert offered a plethora of hiding places and lairs. We have all sorts of stories of robberies and attacks on monks by these people. A band of pilgrims would be a fat and juicy target, so some kind of guard was necessary. Egeria notes about the soldiers who escorted her:
There is no mention of the kind of pilgrim trinkets we would expect on the site available for purchase. That doesn't mean there weren't any, but Egeria does mention them. Nor are we well-informed by Egeria about how these pilgrimage sites managed the upkeep of their churches and what not. It is possible that voluntary offerings were made to assist with this, but I suspect that this wasn't significant. The expectation in the ancient world about public sites is that rich benefactors would, from time to time, infuse money into the site. Helena, for instance, did many benefactions in the Holy Land. Likely, many of these sites had received the recent attention of rich Christian benefactors and were, more or less, able to support any clergy associated with the site. Given that monks or clergy drawn from monks tended to dominate on these sites, I suspect the overhead was low.
Egeria's pilgrimage is a brief glimpse into the experience of being a pilgrim in the patristic era. Her insights and her observations give us a vivid image of this experience as well as to the life of the Church of Jerusalem in the 380s AD. We don't know if Egeria ever reached home. The lst we hear from her is when she talks about her future plans, just before starting her description of liturgy in the Church of Jerusalem. I think it only too fitting that we leave Egeria with these final words to her sisters back at the nunnery:
Peace,
Phil
We know about Egeria through a rather mutilated manuscript called the Pilgrimage of Egeria (also known as Etheria). We really only have the middle part of the text, since the beginning and end sections have been lost. You can find the whole surviving text online here. We do get some supplementary bits in a 7th century letter in praise of Egeria by the monk Valerius.
So, what do these sources tell us about Egeria?
Egeria appears to have been a nun, likely from the Rhone Valley or Spain, who went on a four year (that we know of) pilgrimage to the Holy Land and the East. She likely went in the early 380s, at the tail end of the episcopate of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, who is mentioned indirectly in the text (having received applause by his catechumens for his lectures). She appears to have gone to Jerusalem twice in those years as well as Egypt (in the tracks of Moses), Arabia, Mesopotamia (in search of St. Thomas and King Absgar), Asia Minor and, finally, Constantinople. Along the way, she seems to visit any and every site connected with a biblical or apostolic figure. Included in this number are sites associated with Moses, Job, Melchizedek, Elijah, St. Thomas , King Absgar, Abraham and St. Thecla.
Given the nature of her writing (which is something of a travelogue style) It reminded me stylistically of a Periplus, a kind of handbook describing an itinerary of ports which a merchant might follow like the Periplus Maris Erythriae. She was, however, very detailed oriented, given excellent descriptions not only of her voyages, but, for the last half of our surviving manuscript, the ordinary and festal liturgies of the Church of Jerusalem. She shows familiarity with Jerusalem itself and a good understanding of liturgy and of the Bible.
She is writing at a time when the practice of a pilgrimage in the Holy Land was just taking off. Among our earliest mention of pilgrimage in the Holy Land are Constantine's and his mother, Helena's, joint pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 327/8 AD. Before this, we have no evidence of pilgrimages to the Holy Land. This makes sense considering not only that Christians would have found it difficult to organize such expedition considering the Christianity was illegal in the Roman Empire until Constantine's time, but also because the Romans were particularly sensitive about the site of Jerusalem after the three severe revolts between AD 66 and 135 in and around the Holy Land. Knowledge of the holy sites was likely preserved in the church of Jerusalem (or Aelia Capitolina as it was known by the Romans after the horrific sack of AD 70 and Hadrian's re founding on the site in the 130s). Knowledge of Jewish sites was also likely preserved by the surviving Jews in the region.
So, what do we learn about the pilgrimage to the Holy Land in the 380s. We can see that many of these sites were well-developed, with, at least, a few hermits (holy men) on the site, but often a monastery or a full-blown pilgrimage church on the site. The monks or clergy on the site were well-informed about the site and conducted regular tours/prayers for pilgrims. The Jerusalem (for Jesus' life) area and Egypt (for the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt) appear to have been particularly frequented, so the impression we get is of a well-organized and funded pilgrimage route, including the provision of stations on the Jerusalem route and military escort in the bandit-infested areas around the Sinai. Less frequented pilgrimage routes like Mesopotamia (for St. Thomas) were rather less developed, but had the advantage of personal attention, sometimes even by a city's bishop himself as happened to Egeria in Edessa.
The procedure at almost every site seems the same. A significant part of Scripture or extra-biblical material was read out. Offering were given (what these were are left unmentioned) and prayers offered. Often a Eucharist was performed, especially on the Sabbath. Here is a sample of one of the most spectacular of Egeria's stops, Mt. Sinai (taken from the kind people at CCEL:
We reached the mountain late on the sabbath, and arriving at a certain monastery, the monks who dwelt there received us very kindly, showing us every kindness; there is also a church and a priest there. We stayed there that night, and early on the Lord's Day, together with the priest and the monks who dwelt there, we began the ascent of the mountains one by one. These mountains are ascended with infinite toil, for you cannot go up gently by a spiral track, as we say snail-shell wise, but you climb straight up the whole way, as if up a wall, and you must come straight down each mountain until you reach the very foot of the middle one, which is specially called Sinai. By this way, then, at the bidding of Christ our God, and helped by the prayers of the holy men who accompanied us, we arrived at the fourth hour, at the summit of Sinai, the holy mountain of God, where the law was given, that is, at the place where the Glory of the Lord descended on the day when the mountain smoked.1 Thus the toil was great, for I had to go up on foot, the ascent being impossible in the saddle, and yet I did not feel the toil, on the side of the ascent, I say, the toil, because I realized that the desire which I had was being fulfilled at God's bidding. In that place there is now a church, not great in size, for the place itself, that is the summit of the mountain, is not very great; nevertheless, the church itself is great in grace. When, therefore, at God's bidding, we had arrived at the summit, and had reached the door of the church, lo, the priest who was appointed to the church came from his cell and met us, a hale old man, a monk from early life, and an ascetic as they say here, in short one worthy to be in that place; the other priests also met us, together with all the monks who dwelt on the mountain, that is, not hindered by age or infirmity. No one, however, dwells on the very summit of the central mountain; there is nothing there excepting only the church and the cave where holy Moses was. When the whole passage from the book of Moses had been read in that place, and when the oblation had been duly made, at which we communicated, and as we were coming out of the church, the priests of the place gave us eulogiae, that is, of fruits which grow on the mountain. For although the holy mountain Sinai is rocky throughout, so that it has not even a shrub on it, yet down below, near the foot of the mountains, around either the central height or those which encircle it, there is a little plot of ground where the holy monks diligently plant little trees and orchards, and set up oratories with cells near to them, so that they may gather fruits which they have evidently cultivated with their own hands from the soil of the very mountain itself. So, after we had communicated, and the holy men had given us eulogiae, and we had come out of the door of the church, I began to ask them to show us the several sites. Thereupon the holy men immediately deigned to show us the various places. They showed us the cave where holy Moses was when he had gone up again into the mount of God, that he might receive the second tables after he had broken the former ones when the people sinned; they also deigned to show us the other sites which we desired to see, and those which they themselves well knew. But I would have you to know, ladies, reverend sisters, that from the place where we were standing, round outside the walls of the church, that is from the summit of the central mountain, those mountains, which we could scarcely climb at first, seemed to be so much below us when compared with the central one on which we were standing, that they appeared to be little hills, although they were so very great that I thought that I had never seen higher, except that this central one excelled them by far.
From thence we saw Egypt and Palestine, and the Red Sea and the Parthenian Sea, which leads to Alexandria and the boundless territories of the Saracens, all so much below us as to be scarcely credible, but the holy men pointed out each one of them to us.
Monks were particularly important for the pilgrimage. Indeed, the presence was almost constant in the desert regions around the pilgrimage sites mentioned by Egeria. Their assistance was critical for the running of these sites, since one or two could supervise a site quite readily. I suspect that, much of the time, all but the most popular pilgrimage routes would be fairly deserted, so the monks would get the solitude they craved for prayers, but that these visitors gave them the chance to practice hospitality. Egeria, certainly, seemed grateful for the hospitality and the care given to her by the monks. She notes
although I ought always to give thanks to God in all things, not to speak of these so great favours which He has deigned to confer on me, unworthy as I am, that I should journey through all these places, although I deserved it not, yet I cannot sufficiently thank even all those holy men who deigned with willing mind to receive my littleness in their cells and to guide me surely through all the places which I was always seeking, according to the holy Scriptures.
The presence of a military escort is similarly striking. We often associate the monks of the desert with a desire to escape the hustle and bustle of normal life, but we forget how dangerous the desert actually. The peace and quiet of the desert had to be shared by marginal figures such as thieves and brigands for whom the desert offered a plethora of hiding places and lairs. We have all sorts of stories of robberies and attacks on monks by these people. A band of pilgrims would be a fat and juicy target, so some kind of guard was necessary. Egeria notes about the soldiers who escorted her:
From this place we sent back the soldiers who according to Roman discipline had given us the help of their escort as long as we had walked through suspected places. Now, however, as the public road--which passed by the city of Arabia and leads from the Thebaid to Pelusium--ran through Egypt, there was no need to trouble the soldiers further.Egeria's comments suggest a degree of official governmental support for the pilgrimages, since these soldiers appear to have been regular troops (probably auxiliaries or border-troops assigned to the desert forts along the Arabian desert).
There is no mention of the kind of pilgrim trinkets we would expect on the site available for purchase. That doesn't mean there weren't any, but Egeria does mention them. Nor are we well-informed by Egeria about how these pilgrimage sites managed the upkeep of their churches and what not. It is possible that voluntary offerings were made to assist with this, but I suspect that this wasn't significant. The expectation in the ancient world about public sites is that rich benefactors would, from time to time, infuse money into the site. Helena, for instance, did many benefactions in the Holy Land. Likely, many of these sites had received the recent attention of rich Christian benefactors and were, more or less, able to support any clergy associated with the site. Given that monks or clergy drawn from monks tended to dominate on these sites, I suspect the overhead was low.
Egeria's pilgrimage is a brief glimpse into the experience of being a pilgrim in the patristic era. Her insights and her observations give us a vivid image of this experience as well as to the life of the Church of Jerusalem in the 380s AD. We don't know if Egeria ever reached home. The lst we hear from her is when she talks about her future plans, just before starting her description of liturgy in the Church of Jerusalem. I think it only too fitting that we leave Egeria with these final words to her sisters back at the nunnery:
On the next day, crossing the sea, I arrived at Constantinople, giving thanks to Christ our God who deigned to give me such grace, unworthy and undeserving as I am, for He had deigned to give me not only the will to go, but also the power of walking through the places that I desired, and of returning at last to Constantinople. When I had arrived there, I went through all the churches--that of the Apostles and all the martyr-memorials, of which there are very many--and I ceased not to give thanks to Jesus our God, Who had thus deigned to bestow His mercy upon me. From which place, ladies, light of my eyes, while I send these (letters) to your affection, I have already purposed, in the Name of Christ our God, to go to Ephesus in Asia, for the sake of prayer, because of the memorial of the holy and blessed Apostle John. And if after this I am yet in the body, and am able to see any other places, I will either tell it to your affection in person, if God deigns to permit me this, or in anywise, if I have another project in mind, I will send you news of it in a letter. But do you, ladies, light of my eyes, deign to remember me, whether I am in the body or out of the body.
Peace,
Phil
Saturday, March 08, 2008
To the Desert

It has been a busy week (which you could infer from the fact I didn't post this week due to a combination of busyness and an annoying cold), but report cards are done, March Break has begun and I'm off to Palm Springs (God, impending snowstorms and airline connections permitting).
I won't be posting for about a week or two. If anyone is interested in hosting Patristic Carnival X, let me know. I think I'll be able to get e-mails from time to time while in California.
I added the picture because of the image of water bubbling up from the desert is, to me, an emblem of faith. Have a good week!
Peace,
Phil
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Patristic Carnival IX
Tim at the God Fearin' Fiddler Forumhas Patristic Carnival IX up. It looks like interesting offerings this month. Enjoy!.
If you are interested in hosting Patristics Carnival X, let me know. Just drop an e-mail at patristics-carnival@hotmail.com.
Peace,
Phil
If you are interested in hosting Patristics Carnival X, let me know. Just drop an e-mail at patristics-carnival@hotmail.com.
Peace,
Phil
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Sulpicius Severus, Life of St. Martin 18
Well, time for another installment of the St. Martin story. Here we find Martin dealing with rumours of war, demoniacs and lepers.
Text:
Meanwhile, a rumour about a barbarian disturbance and attack suddenly disturbed the city, Martin ordered a certain demon-possessed man to be shown to him. He ordered the man to confess whether he was truly the messenger (of this news). (2) Then, the man confessed there were ten demons in him, who spread this rumour among the people so that Martin, at least, would flee from the town and that nothing was less in the minds of the barbarians than an attack. In this way, when this unclean spirit confessed in the middle of the church, the city was freed from the present fear and disturbance.
(3) In Paris, while he was entering the gate of that city with a great crowd accompanying him, Martin, to the horror of all, kissed and blessed a leper who had a miserable face and immediately cleansed him from all evil. (4) On the next day, the leper came to the church with shining skin and gave thanks for the health he had received. Nor must we pass by the story that fibres drawn from his clothing and coverings often brought strength to the ill. (5) Bound on the fingers or laid on the neck, they often put the illness to flight from the sick.
Commentary:
This is a bit of a grab bag of miracle stories, but with some interesting elements.
In the first, we find a demoniac whose demons were not interested in a direct confrontation with Martin (we've had plenty stories which suggest that Martin (as helped by Jesus) was more than a match for them). It is interesting that they use a false rumour of a barbarian incursion to try to drive Martin off. It is interesting, first, because it suggests a degree of anxiety about barbarian incursions. We can't really be sure about the date for this incident, but presumably we're talking about the 370s-380s. Gaul, in this period, was relatively peaceful, but there were occasional difficulties. Presumably, this rumour played on these fears.
An interesting element to this is that the source of the rumour is discovered by Martin to have spiritual motivations. Was this Martin's way of discrediting the rumour? Perhaps. Was there a genuine spiritual encounter here? I'm not sure we'll know that. Still, it makes some tantalizing questions, as well as emphasizing Martin's prophetic powers.
In the second incident, we find a rather more straight-foward cleansing of a leper. Since Jesus' own ministry, this kind of cleansing is something a mainstay in the Church's arsenal of miracles. The example of Jesus in his many leper healings is clearly paramount here and the return of the leper to thank God in Martin's prescence is meant to evoke that.
It is interesting also that Martin's very clothing has miraculous powers. This, of course, recalls Jesus and the woman who touched the hem of Jesus' clothing and was cured of chronic bleeding (Matthew, 9,20-22; Mark 5,25; Luke, 8, 43-48). Of course, strictly speaking, it isn't Jesus' clothing that has the power, so much as Jesus' power radiating out from the clothing. A closer paralel might be comment in acts in which handkerchiefs and aprons touched by St. Paul was cured the sick in Ephesus (Acts, 19,12). Here Sulpicius is doing one better because it is no longer necessary to have the whole garment, just the tiniest fragment.
Peace,
Phil
Text:
Meanwhile, a rumour about a barbarian disturbance and attack suddenly disturbed the city, Martin ordered a certain demon-possessed man to be shown to him. He ordered the man to confess whether he was truly the messenger (of this news). (2) Then, the man confessed there were ten demons in him, who spread this rumour among the people so that Martin, at least, would flee from the town and that nothing was less in the minds of the barbarians than an attack. In this way, when this unclean spirit confessed in the middle of the church, the city was freed from the present fear and disturbance.
(3) In Paris, while he was entering the gate of that city with a great crowd accompanying him, Martin, to the horror of all, kissed and blessed a leper who had a miserable face and immediately cleansed him from all evil. (4) On the next day, the leper came to the church with shining skin and gave thanks for the health he had received. Nor must we pass by the story that fibres drawn from his clothing and coverings often brought strength to the ill. (5) Bound on the fingers or laid on the neck, they often put the illness to flight from the sick.
Commentary:
This is a bit of a grab bag of miracle stories, but with some interesting elements.
In the first, we find a demoniac whose demons were not interested in a direct confrontation with Martin (we've had plenty stories which suggest that Martin (as helped by Jesus) was more than a match for them). It is interesting that they use a false rumour of a barbarian incursion to try to drive Martin off. It is interesting, first, because it suggests a degree of anxiety about barbarian incursions. We can't really be sure about the date for this incident, but presumably we're talking about the 370s-380s. Gaul, in this period, was relatively peaceful, but there were occasional difficulties. Presumably, this rumour played on these fears.
An interesting element to this is that the source of the rumour is discovered by Martin to have spiritual motivations. Was this Martin's way of discrediting the rumour? Perhaps. Was there a genuine spiritual encounter here? I'm not sure we'll know that. Still, it makes some tantalizing questions, as well as emphasizing Martin's prophetic powers.
In the second incident, we find a rather more straight-foward cleansing of a leper. Since Jesus' own ministry, this kind of cleansing is something a mainstay in the Church's arsenal of miracles. The example of Jesus in his many leper healings is clearly paramount here and the return of the leper to thank God in Martin's prescence is meant to evoke that.
It is interesting also that Martin's very clothing has miraculous powers. This, of course, recalls Jesus and the woman who touched the hem of Jesus' clothing and was cured of chronic bleeding (Matthew, 9,20-22; Mark 5,25; Luke, 8, 43-48). Of course, strictly speaking, it isn't Jesus' clothing that has the power, so much as Jesus' power radiating out from the clothing. A closer paralel might be comment in acts in which handkerchiefs and aprons touched by St. Paul was cured the sick in Ephesus (Acts, 19,12). Here Sulpicius is doing one better because it is no longer necessary to have the whole garment, just the tiniest fragment.
Peace,
Phil
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Two Years at hyperekperissou
On Tuesday last, hyperekperissou reached its two year mark. So, to honour that anniversary and because this blog (not to mention my own life) has changed substantially over the last couple of years, I thought a reprised introduction is in order. The first introduction is here.
Who am I?
Well, let's start with the family. I was born in Toronto, Ontario, but spent most of my childhood/youth in London, Ontario. I went to a fairly academic high school, got into university and enjoyed it so much that I spent 15 years in one university or the other. Four completed degrees later (I did start a PhD., but didn't finish), I found my vocation as a a high school teacher of Latin and Classical Studies (of all things!). If you'd told me even ten years ago that that would be what I would do with my life, I would have laughed in your face. But here we are.
I'm married to Elin and we have a 14 month old son, Ian. My wife and I met while living at Wycliffe College, University of Toronto. I was working on my PhD in Classics. My wife was working on an MA in Theology. We married in 2001.
My interests include, of course, patristics, Classics, Latin and Greek linguistics, Byzantine history, cooking, movies and spending time with my family. Yes, I'm a geek. I'm proud and not tired (sorry, Arlo Guthrie reference).
Why hyperekperissou?
I quote my original introduction:
I should also add that, embarrassingly, I wrongly transcribed hyperekperissou as my URL and now I'm afraid to change it because it would screw up people's links to this blog. Now that that admission has been made, let's move on.
The Evolution of hyperekperissou
I have to admit that I had no idea what kind of blog I was intending to do when I started. I'm not sure anybody who starts blogging ever really does. If he/she does, that certainly changes very quickly. My blogging experience, however, seemed to be a natural outgrowth of my contributions to various discussion boards on the net, so I thought it made sense to give myself a venue in which to write reflections on faith, theology and the Anglican Church.
What I found was that I was writing an inordinate amount on the Anglican Church morass. Now, don't get me wrong. There is a flourishing Anglican blogsphere with some fine writers on both sides. Yet, despite donning my asbestos underwear, I discovered that I had very little stomach to be a polemicist and as reasoned dialogue seemed (and seems) impossible, I chose not to devote my time and energy to those issues. At least, on this blog.
That was around June, 2006. Around that time, I stumbled across Mike Aquilina's The Way of the Fathers blog and discovered a whole new (and not particularly populated) part of blogsphere- patristiblogging. This fit with my major intellectual interest, patristics, and I felt that it gave me more opportunities to make positive contributions to people's lives. I honestly think that the Fathers should be read more, not as a kind of intellectual fetish, but as a way to understand how we Christians came to make the decisions about such things as the canon, the Trinity, etc., which characterize orthodox Christianity. If this blog offers a glimmer of light on how that process worked, then it has served its purpose.
That is why I've given so much attention to Patristic Carnivals (which started in December 2006) and book reviews. I'm encouraged, incidentally, by the reception of the Patristic Carnival and by the increase of patristic entries out there. I honestly think this is the greatest contribution I've made in the last two years.
Whither hyperekperissou?
So, the only question remaining is where I am I going in the future with the blog. I think the patristics emphasis stays, but here is where I expect to go.
1. Patristics Carnivals will continue, but I think the time has come to build a permanent page for the rules/regulations. This is a priority on the to-do list, but life and family are first priority, so it may be a while.
2. I'm still looking for hosts for the Patristics Carnival. I think it would be good on several fronts to take myself out of always doing the Patristics Carnival. If you are interested in hosting, let me know. I really do intend to start e-mailing people to solicit aid soon, but busyness has prevented me in the last few months.
3. Keeping up the book reviews as much as I can. Given a limited book buying budget, I do have to rely on the University of Toronto library system, so it takes me awhile to get to things. If you think I should be reviewing something, drop me a line!
3. I think I need to get back to reflections which were a feature in the early months. These reflections could be inspired by patristic texts, but need not be. I think a more personal touch would be nice from time to time on this blog (thus this introduction).
4. Any other suggestions?
Gratitude
I would be remiss if I ended this entry without thanking my readers and supporters for their encouragement over the years. Particularly, I want to thank:
My wife for putting up with my weekly blog time and for her suggestions on individual blog entries.
Jim, my first and constant reader, for his encouragement, even when I shifted away from his areas of expertise. Jim and I have been arguing about various things for years, so I'm happy to have transferred our discussions to this venue as well.
Mike and Kevin for their advice in the early days of my shift to patristiblogging.
Tim, Danny and everyone with whom I discuss, debate and dispute. Thanks for keeping our discussions productive and civil.
Peace,
Phil
Who am I?
Well, let's start with the family. I was born in Toronto, Ontario, but spent most of my childhood/youth in London, Ontario. I went to a fairly academic high school, got into university and enjoyed it so much that I spent 15 years in one university or the other. Four completed degrees later (I did start a PhD., but didn't finish), I found my vocation as a a high school teacher of Latin and Classical Studies (of all things!). If you'd told me even ten years ago that that would be what I would do with my life, I would have laughed in your face. But here we are.
I'm married to Elin and we have a 14 month old son, Ian. My wife and I met while living at Wycliffe College, University of Toronto. I was working on my PhD in Classics. My wife was working on an MA in Theology. We married in 2001.
My interests include, of course, patristics, Classics, Latin and Greek linguistics, Byzantine history, cooking, movies and spending time with my family. Yes, I'm a geek. I'm proud and not tired (sorry, Arlo Guthrie reference).
Why hyperekperissou?
I quote my original introduction:
This is a sneaky reference to Ephesians 3, 21 and used commonly as a doxology at the end of the Eucharist: "Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine..." (Book of Alternative Services=BAS). The bits in italics are the part which express hyperekperissou (hard working word, isn't it?). I wanted it as a title partly because it is an expression of God's abounding grace offered to the world through Jesus Christ, but also because this verse has always had special meaning to my wife and me because we have both seen it in our own lives. In fact, we saw it as so important that we inscribed it on our wedding bands.
I should also add that, embarrassingly, I wrongly transcribed hyperekperissou as my URL and now I'm afraid to change it because it would screw up people's links to this blog. Now that that admission has been made, let's move on.
The Evolution of hyperekperissou
I have to admit that I had no idea what kind of blog I was intending to do when I started. I'm not sure anybody who starts blogging ever really does. If he/she does, that certainly changes very quickly. My blogging experience, however, seemed to be a natural outgrowth of my contributions to various discussion boards on the net, so I thought it made sense to give myself a venue in which to write reflections on faith, theology and the Anglican Church.
What I found was that I was writing an inordinate amount on the Anglican Church morass. Now, don't get me wrong. There is a flourishing Anglican blogsphere with some fine writers on both sides. Yet, despite donning my asbestos underwear, I discovered that I had very little stomach to be a polemicist and as reasoned dialogue seemed (and seems) impossible, I chose not to devote my time and energy to those issues. At least, on this blog.
That was around June, 2006. Around that time, I stumbled across Mike Aquilina's The Way of the Fathers blog and discovered a whole new (and not particularly populated) part of blogsphere- patristiblogging. This fit with my major intellectual interest, patristics, and I felt that it gave me more opportunities to make positive contributions to people's lives. I honestly think that the Fathers should be read more, not as a kind of intellectual fetish, but as a way to understand how we Christians came to make the decisions about such things as the canon, the Trinity, etc., which characterize orthodox Christianity. If this blog offers a glimmer of light on how that process worked, then it has served its purpose.
That is why I've given so much attention to Patristic Carnivals (which started in December 2006) and book reviews. I'm encouraged, incidentally, by the reception of the Patristic Carnival and by the increase of patristic entries out there. I honestly think this is the greatest contribution I've made in the last two years.
Whither hyperekperissou?
So, the only question remaining is where I am I going in the future with the blog. I think the patristics emphasis stays, but here is where I expect to go.
1. Patristics Carnivals will continue, but I think the time has come to build a permanent page for the rules/regulations. This is a priority on the to-do list, but life and family are first priority, so it may be a while.
2. I'm still looking for hosts for the Patristics Carnival. I think it would be good on several fronts to take myself out of always doing the Patristics Carnival. If you are interested in hosting, let me know. I really do intend to start e-mailing people to solicit aid soon, but busyness has prevented me in the last few months.
3. Keeping up the book reviews as much as I can. Given a limited book buying budget, I do have to rely on the University of Toronto library system, so it takes me awhile to get to things. If you think I should be reviewing something, drop me a line!
3. I think I need to get back to reflections which were a feature in the early months. These reflections could be inspired by patristic texts, but need not be. I think a more personal touch would be nice from time to time on this blog (thus this introduction).
4. Any other suggestions?
Gratitude
I would be remiss if I ended this entry without thanking my readers and supporters for their encouragement over the years. Particularly, I want to thank:
My wife for putting up with my weekly blog time and for her suggestions on individual blog entries.
Jim, my first and constant reader, for his encouragement, even when I shifted away from his areas of expertise. Jim and I have been arguing about various things for years, so I'm happy to have transferred our discussions to this venue as well.
Mike and Kevin for their advice in the early days of my shift to patristiblogging.
Tim, Danny and everyone with whom I discuss, debate and dispute. Thanks for keeping our discussions productive and civil.
Peace,
Phil
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Evangelicals and the Early Church
I don't normally cite articles outside the Carnival, but I think this particular article, posted by Don Bryant at From My Heart, Out of My Mind deserves reading for those who are trying to puzzle out the evangelical move to the Fathers. Whether your are an evangelical or a curious Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, this is well worth reading.
Peace,
Phil
Peace,
Phil
Monday, February 11, 2008
Book Review: Bryan M. Litfin, Getting to Know the Church Fathers. An Evangelical Introduction.

In what seems an ongoing series, I decided to hunt down the newest entry in Protestant introductions to the Church Fathers: Bryan Litfin`s Getting to know the Church Fathers from Brazos Press. I was particularly intrigued by this volume because of the reviews I found in blogsphere during the November Patristics Carnival.
The starting point with this book, I think, is to consider where it is coming from. It is part of the evangelical resurgence in interest about the Church Fathers. This movement is a source of perplexity among many Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox readers, I recognize, because, except for some notable converts, most of these writers remain evangelical and Protestant, while emphasizing the importance of both the Fathers and catholicity in their theology. This perplexity is understandible, of course, because of the aversion that many Protestants, especially those of the free church persuasion (Baptists, Mennonites, non-denominations evangelicals of all varieties), have to reading anything earlier than the Reformers (and, even then, one has to be careful of the magisterial ones). Never mind, that the early Reformers were as ready to scrape about the Fathers and the early Church as any Roman Catholic. Never mind that Protestantism remains very Augustinian in its theology, even if in a different way that Roman Catholics (this being something which drives Eastern Orthodox writers to despair).
I think the important way to review this Protestant patristic revival is that it is often intended as a way to deal with the shortcomings of the free church tradition. Most notably, the Fathers are frequently employed as a prophelactic against hte Protestant disease: splitting at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, when the first Reformers split from the Roman Catholic Church, they opened up a new precedent in allowing for the possibility of having to leave a church with which one disagrees. This has lead to a steady fragmentation of Protestantism; a fragmentation which has only accelerated in the last century. What bringing in the Fathers does is to inject a dose of catholic ecclesiology which, it is hoped, may well get people to stick with their churches and work their problems out, rather than splitting off in a huff. As an Anglican catholic, I can only applaud that approach.
Litfin's volume fits into this revival, but in a peculiar place. One of the features of many of the introdutions I've read (D.H. William's Retrieving Tradition or Christopher Hall's Reading Scripture With the Church Fathers (and its companion volume, Learning Theology with the Church Fathers) is that these volumes are intended for educated laymen, pastors and theologians. Litfin's audience, I think, is broader. As my wife suggested (without disrespect, I note), Litfin is trying for more of a "Dummies Guide to the Fathers" approach. This means an accessible and sometimes folksy writing style (which masks good content, I note) and an assumption that the audience doesn't know anything. This makes it a splendid introductory volume for the evangelical layman to the Fathers.
Litfin structures his book on the biographies of ten Fathers (well, nine Fathers, one Mother): Ignatius of Antioch, Justin Martyr, Ireneaeus of Lyons, Tertullian, Perpetua, Origen, Athanasius, John Chrysosthom, Augustine and Cyril of Alexandria. He gives a biography and a discussion of their theology in light of their contribution. He ends each section with a passage from each author and reflections questions. This is, clearly, a book meant to be studied in church book studies and with a Bible close at hand.
Litfin's introduction deals with the perennial issue of why Protestants should want to read the Fathers: the Fathers aren't Biblical, they are Roman Catholics, they represent the fall of Christianity. He also deals with whether they are relevant. All of these, of course, are the perennial issues for Protestants (and, to a lesser degree, Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox), but Litfin deals with them well. He does have a tendency to over-defend the Fathers, especially on the issue of allegory and Constantinianism. But, then, I'm not exactly know for my sympathy to either patristic theme.
Still, this is an excellent introduction to the Fathers and deserves to be taken seriously. If you are looking for a book to introduce the Fathers in an evangelical setting, this one is an excellent choice.
Peace,
Phil
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Announcing Patristics Carnival IX
This month's Carnival will be hosted by Tim Trautman over at God Fearin' Forum.
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be February 29th and the postings will be up later by the week of March 3rd. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Feb. 11th Revision: It seems I can't count. This IS Patristics Carnival IX!
Peace,
Phil
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be February 29th and the postings will be up later by the week of March 3rd. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Feb. 11th Revision: It seems I can't count. This IS Patristics Carnival IX!
Peace,
Phil
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Patristics Carnival VIII- January, 2008
February 11th edit: This is actually Patristics Carnival Eight, so I've corrected the header and a spelling error or two.
Welcome to the eighth incarnation of the Patristic Carnival. It has been rather a busy month, so I hope you enjoy the offerings.
New Attractions:
Two excellent new blogs have emerged in the patristiblogging section of blogsphere. Ora et labora, an Eastern Orthodox newcomer, and Archaic Christianity by Eric Sowell. Welcome aboard!
Front Gate: Introductions to the Fathers
Earthpages.ca offers a new entry on the Church Fathers. It is brief, but accurate.
rtjones on the Communal Feast blog puts a plug in for patristics.
The Midway: Articles on the Fathers
Mike Aquilina on The Way of the Fathers blog discusses how the Fathers would view our attitude to the unborn today and posts a translation of Pope Benedict's audience on St. Augustine.
sean on The Higher Ground blog features a discussion about the evolution of the Creeds. I'm not entirely sure where they're going with it, but they're not necessarily fans of the Trinitarian understanding of orthodox Christianity.
Steve on Triablogue discusses the (legendary) Alexandrian (Old Testament) canon, as part of an ongoing discussion on the topic.
Wyman Richardson on the Walking Together blog features summaries of patristic works including the letter of St. Clement to the Corinthians, St. Ignatius' letters to the Philippians, Ephesians, Magnesians, Trailians, the Romans, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, The Rodeo: Patristic catenae and the Letter to Diognetus. Whew, that is a lot of summarizing! These summaries are written from an evangelial (Baptist) point of view and are excellent work!
Eric Sowell on the Archaic Christianity blog reflects St. Ignatius' Letter to the Ephesians in three parts (one, two, three)
New patristiblogger, Felix Culpa, on the Ora et Labora blog has a good start with several patristic posts including a summary of the seven ecumenical councils a very clear and detailed introduction to patristic exegesis, translation tips for the prayer of Ephrem and considers contemplation and balance in light of Sts. Athanasius and Cyril.
Ian on the Ruminations by the Lake blog posts his thesis proposal on Augustine's letter to Sixtus and the monks at Hadramentum.
Benedict Seraphim on the This Is Life!: Revolutions Around the Cruciform Axis blog reflects on St. Gregory Palamas' Dialogue VI. Added Feb. 5: It seems I messed up this reference and mis-attributed this entry to St. Gregory the Great (who, also, I think, had Dialogues.
Derek on the star light blog discusses St. Maximus' treatment of the hardening of the Pharoah's heart in Exodus.
Rob Bradshaw on the Earlychurch.org blog posts a series of PDF scholarly articles on the soteriology in Alexandria, Clement Ignatius and Hermas, Victorinus on Revelation, the canon of Scripture, signs and wonders in the early catholic church, St. Augustine and creation, St. Augustine, Origen and allegory, patristic views of Hell, a PhD. thesis on patristic eschatology and a book on Tertullian by Gerald Bray now online.
Weekend Fisher on the Heart, Mind, Soul and Strength blog reflects on the series of books trying to emphasize the pagan origin of Christianity.
Philip Harland on the Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean blog had an excellent two articles on Marcion dealing with ethnographic stereotypes of Marcion and Marcion's concept of God.
Roger Pearse on the Thoughts on Antiquity blog muses over his project of translating Eusebius of Caesarea and the difficulty of knowing when scholarly brands have been applied.
Added Feb 5: Danny Garland from the Irish-Catholic and Dangerous blog had a paper on the Church Fathers' Marian interpretation of the Old Testament. Congrats on the publication, Danny!
Exhibition Place: Biographies of the Fathers
The Friar on the Reason and Revelation blog features an excellent biography of St. Gregory of Nazianzus. and St. Cyril and Athanasius.
The Marketplace: Book Reviews
reformedreader on The Reformed Reader offers a few reflections on St. Cyril's commentary on John.
Ben Arbour on the Believing Jesus blog features a book review of Christopher Hall's Reading Scripture through the Church Fathers (which was a tremendously influential book for me, since it had started me off in the wonderful world of patristics.)
Matthew Burgess on the Confessions of Biblical Junkie blog passes on an announcement from Fortress about a new collection of essays on St. Justin Martyr.
On this blog, I review D.H. William's Evangelicals and Tradition.
The Foreign Exchange Tent: Translations
On this blog, I continue my translation series on Sulpicius Severus' Life of St. Martin 17.
The Apocryphal Aisle: Christian Apocrypha
April DeConick on The Forbidden Gospel blog features a series of responses to Marvin Meyer on the Thirteenth Daimon in the Gospel of Judas (one, two, three, four, four.one, four.two, five, six, seven)
I hope you enjoy these entries! Keep an eye out for Patristics Carnival IX at a to-be-announced location.
Peace,
Phil
Welcome to the eighth incarnation of the Patristic Carnival. It has been rather a busy month, so I hope you enjoy the offerings.
New Attractions:
Two excellent new blogs have emerged in the patristiblogging section of blogsphere. Ora et labora, an Eastern Orthodox newcomer, and Archaic Christianity by Eric Sowell. Welcome aboard!
Front Gate: Introductions to the Fathers
Earthpages.ca offers a new entry on the Church Fathers. It is brief, but accurate.
rtjones on the Communal Feast blog puts a plug in for patristics.
The Midway: Articles on the Fathers
Mike Aquilina on The Way of the Fathers blog discusses how the Fathers would view our attitude to the unborn today and posts a translation of Pope Benedict's audience on St. Augustine.
sean on The Higher Ground blog features a discussion about the evolution of the Creeds. I'm not entirely sure where they're going with it, but they're not necessarily fans of the Trinitarian understanding of orthodox Christianity.
Steve on Triablogue discusses the (legendary) Alexandrian (Old Testament) canon, as part of an ongoing discussion on the topic.
Wyman Richardson on the Walking Together blog features summaries of patristic works including the letter of St. Clement to the Corinthians, St. Ignatius' letters to the Philippians, Ephesians, Magnesians, Trailians, the Romans, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, The Rodeo: Patristic catenae and the Letter to Diognetus. Whew, that is a lot of summarizing! These summaries are written from an evangelial (Baptist) point of view and are excellent work!
Eric Sowell on the Archaic Christianity blog reflects St. Ignatius' Letter to the Ephesians in three parts (one, two, three)
New patristiblogger, Felix Culpa, on the Ora et Labora blog has a good start with several patristic posts including a summary of the seven ecumenical councils a very clear and detailed introduction to patristic exegesis, translation tips for the prayer of Ephrem and considers contemplation and balance in light of Sts. Athanasius and Cyril.
Ian on the Ruminations by the Lake blog posts his thesis proposal on Augustine's letter to Sixtus and the monks at Hadramentum.
Benedict Seraphim on the This Is Life!: Revolutions Around the Cruciform Axis blog reflects on St. Gregory Palamas' Dialogue VI. Added Feb. 5: It seems I messed up this reference and mis-attributed this entry to St. Gregory the Great (who, also, I think, had Dialogues.
Derek on the star light blog discusses St. Maximus' treatment of the hardening of the Pharoah's heart in Exodus.
Rob Bradshaw on the Earlychurch.org blog posts a series of PDF scholarly articles on the soteriology in Alexandria, Clement Ignatius and Hermas, Victorinus on Revelation, the canon of Scripture, signs and wonders in the early catholic church, St. Augustine and creation, St. Augustine, Origen and allegory, patristic views of Hell, a PhD. thesis on patristic eschatology and a book on Tertullian by Gerald Bray now online.
Weekend Fisher on the Heart, Mind, Soul and Strength blog reflects on the series of books trying to emphasize the pagan origin of Christianity.
Philip Harland on the Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean blog had an excellent two articles on Marcion dealing with ethnographic stereotypes of Marcion and Marcion's concept of God.
Roger Pearse on the Thoughts on Antiquity blog muses over his project of translating Eusebius of Caesarea and the difficulty of knowing when scholarly brands have been applied.
Added Feb 5: Danny Garland from the Irish-Catholic and Dangerous blog had a paper on the Church Fathers' Marian interpretation of the Old Testament. Congrats on the publication, Danny!
Exhibition Place: Biographies of the Fathers
The Friar on the Reason and Revelation blog features an excellent biography of St. Gregory of Nazianzus. and St. Cyril and Athanasius.
The Marketplace: Book Reviews
reformedreader on The Reformed Reader offers a few reflections on St. Cyril's commentary on John.
Ben Arbour on the Believing Jesus blog features a book review of Christopher Hall's Reading Scripture through the Church Fathers (which was a tremendously influential book for me, since it had started me off in the wonderful world of patristics.)
Matthew Burgess on the Confessions of Biblical Junkie blog passes on an announcement from Fortress about a new collection of essays on St. Justin Martyr.
On this blog, I review D.H. William's Evangelicals and Tradition.
The Foreign Exchange Tent: Translations
On this blog, I continue my translation series on Sulpicius Severus' Life of St. Martin 17.
The Apocryphal Aisle: Christian Apocrypha
April DeConick on The Forbidden Gospel blog features a series of responses to Marvin Meyer on the Thirteenth Daimon in the Gospel of Judas (one, two, three, four, four.one, four.two, five, six, seven)
I hope you enjoy these entries! Keep an eye out for Patristics Carnival IX at a to-be-announced location.
Peace,
Phil
Monday, January 28, 2008
Sulpicius Severus, Life of St. Martin 17
Here is the latest installment of our St. Martin story.
Translation:
At the same time, the slave of a certain proconsul, Taetradius, was seized by a demon and was tortured in a painful way. Therefore, when Martin was asked to lay hands on him, he ordered the slave to be brought to him, but in no way could the spirit be brought from the cell where he was. He savaged those who came with raging teeth. (2) Then, Taetradius fell prostrate around the knees of the blessed man, begging that Martin himself should descend to that cell where the demon-possessed man was held. Martin refused to enter the house of an impious pagan. (3) For Taetradius, at that time, was entangled and held by pagan error. Therefore, Taetradius swore that, if the demon was taken away from the boy, he would become a Christian. (4) Then, Martin, after laying hands on the boy, cast the spirit from him. When he saw this, Taetradius believed in the Lord Jesus. Immediately, he was made a catechumen and not long after he was baptized. He always honoured Martin with astonishing affection as the author of his salvation.
(5) At the same time, in the same town, the head of a certain household entered and, hesitating on the threshold, said he had seen a horrible demon in the atrium of the house, When Martin ordered it to leave, a certain person who was staying in the interior part of the house seized the head of the household and the wretch began to rage with his teeth and tear at anyone who was opposite him. With the house disturbed, the family thrown into confusion and people turning in flight, Martin placed himself opposite the raging man. First, he ordered him to stand. (6) When the man ground his teeth and threatened to bite him with a gaping mouth, Martin brought his fingers into his mouth. "If you are able," he said, "devour them." (7) As if he received glowing iron in his gullet, the man, drawing his teeth far back, avoided touching the fingers of the blessed man. When the spirit was forced to flee from the besieged body through punishments and tortures (not was it permitted for it to leave through the mouth), it was discharged through a flux of the stomach, leaving foul remains.
Commentary:
Here we return to the healings of St. Martin.
The first of the cures, I think, are meant to echo some of Jesus' cures of demoniacs. In particular, I think there is an echo of the centurion's slave in Matthew 8,5-13 and Luke 1-10 in which the slave of an outright pagan (and Roman, hence, oppressor!) is healed by Jesus as well as the cure of the Canaanite woman's daughter (Matthew 15, 21-28 and Mark, 7, 24-30) whom Jesus cured, albeit reluctantly and in response to the faith of the Canaanite woman.
Clearly, the fit is not perfect with either story. The centurion refuses to allow Jesus to enter his house because it was not worthy for him, a Jew, to enter a Gentile house. Taetatradius has no such qualms and begs Martin to come into his house, despite the fact that he, Taetradius, wasn't even a Christian. The reluctance to enter is entirely Martin's, so it casts a rather different colour to the story.
Similarly, the fact that Jesus hesistated from entering the Canaanite woman's house matches well with Martin's hesitation to enter Taetradius' house. Yet, Jesus was convinced to do the healing because of the woman's faith in him, so he relented from his opposition. Martin is only convinced by Taetradius' very conditional vow to become a Christian, if Martin could cure his slave. This kind of bargaining is very much in line with pagan practice, although it looks like Taetradius seized his faith wtih both hands, once he accepted it. The final line of the episode, I think, is meant to prevent us from thinking of this conversion as a conversion of convenience.
The second episode, I don't think, has any direct Scriptural resonance. The calm shown by Martin before the raging demon-possessed man is parallel to Jesus' cool-headedness and authority in dealing with even the most raging demon-possessed people. It is, also, entirely consistent with his calm in dealing with raging pagans. Secure in God's protection, Martin stands up to the demons and wins. Of course, it is understood that this is God's victory, not Martin's, but the calm is a sign that Martin isn't just another wonder-worker (whether Christian or pagan, these were a dime a dozen at the time), but an outright holy man.
Peace,
Phil
Translation:
At the same time, the slave of a certain proconsul, Taetradius, was seized by a demon and was tortured in a painful way. Therefore, when Martin was asked to lay hands on him, he ordered the slave to be brought to him, but in no way could the spirit be brought from the cell where he was. He savaged those who came with raging teeth. (2) Then, Taetradius fell prostrate around the knees of the blessed man, begging that Martin himself should descend to that cell where the demon-possessed man was held. Martin refused to enter the house of an impious pagan. (3) For Taetradius, at that time, was entangled and held by pagan error. Therefore, Taetradius swore that, if the demon was taken away from the boy, he would become a Christian. (4) Then, Martin, after laying hands on the boy, cast the spirit from him. When he saw this, Taetradius believed in the Lord Jesus. Immediately, he was made a catechumen and not long after he was baptized. He always honoured Martin with astonishing affection as the author of his salvation.
(5) At the same time, in the same town, the head of a certain household entered and, hesitating on the threshold, said he had seen a horrible demon in the atrium of the house, When Martin ordered it to leave, a certain person who was staying in the interior part of the house seized the head of the household and the wretch began to rage with his teeth and tear at anyone who was opposite him. With the house disturbed, the family thrown into confusion and people turning in flight, Martin placed himself opposite the raging man. First, he ordered him to stand. (6) When the man ground his teeth and threatened to bite him with a gaping mouth, Martin brought his fingers into his mouth. "If you are able," he said, "devour them." (7) As if he received glowing iron in his gullet, the man, drawing his teeth far back, avoided touching the fingers of the blessed man. When the spirit was forced to flee from the besieged body through punishments and tortures (not was it permitted for it to leave through the mouth), it was discharged through a flux of the stomach, leaving foul remains.
Commentary:
Here we return to the healings of St. Martin.
The first of the cures, I think, are meant to echo some of Jesus' cures of demoniacs. In particular, I think there is an echo of the centurion's slave in Matthew 8,5-13 and Luke 1-10 in which the slave of an outright pagan (and Roman, hence, oppressor!) is healed by Jesus as well as the cure of the Canaanite woman's daughter (Matthew 15, 21-28 and Mark, 7, 24-30) whom Jesus cured, albeit reluctantly and in response to the faith of the Canaanite woman.
Clearly, the fit is not perfect with either story. The centurion refuses to allow Jesus to enter his house because it was not worthy for him, a Jew, to enter a Gentile house. Taetatradius has no such qualms and begs Martin to come into his house, despite the fact that he, Taetradius, wasn't even a Christian. The reluctance to enter is entirely Martin's, so it casts a rather different colour to the story.
Similarly, the fact that Jesus hesistated from entering the Canaanite woman's house matches well with Martin's hesitation to enter Taetradius' house. Yet, Jesus was convinced to do the healing because of the woman's faith in him, so he relented from his opposition. Martin is only convinced by Taetradius' very conditional vow to become a Christian, if Martin could cure his slave. This kind of bargaining is very much in line with pagan practice, although it looks like Taetradius seized his faith wtih both hands, once he accepted it. The final line of the episode, I think, is meant to prevent us from thinking of this conversion as a conversion of convenience.
The second episode, I don't think, has any direct Scriptural resonance. The calm shown by Martin before the raging demon-possessed man is parallel to Jesus' cool-headedness and authority in dealing with even the most raging demon-possessed people. It is, also, entirely consistent with his calm in dealing with raging pagans. Secure in God's protection, Martin stands up to the demons and wins. Of course, it is understood that this is God's victory, not Martin's, but the calm is a sign that Martin isn't just another wonder-worker (whether Christian or pagan, these were a dime a dozen at the time), but an outright holy man.
Peace,
Phil
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Patristics Carnival VIII- Call for Submissions
Well, it is time for another Patristics Carnival--the eighth in the series. I'm hosting again.
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be January 30th and the postings will be up later by the week of February 8. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Peace,
Phil
The guidelines remains the same as Modest Proposal entry back in November, 2006 and my additions in August, 2007.
The last day of submission will be January 30th and the postings will be up later by the week of February 8. .
Remember you can offer submissions on the carnival site or the dedicated e-mail (patristics-carnival@hotmail.com)
Peace,
Phil
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Askesis of Blogging
This post is a bit of a departure from my normal posts, but I have been thinking a bit about the subject of blogging over the last few weeks and, to some degree, this kind of reflective navel-gazing is de rigour in blogging circles. So, I thought this could be the time.
Truthfully, I decided to write on this topic this week because of an exchange I was having with another blog which got rather heated on my side, largely because aspects of a post got up my left-nostril (one of my expressions for being annoyed-I don't know why it is important that it is the left nostril, so don't ask). Now, this kind of little explosion is not uncommon in blogsphere and, as explosions go, it was kind of small. It isn't like it sparked blog and counter-blog entries for weeks on end or made the news. Still, it is sometimes these small explosions which reveal our actual practice as bloggers, not our sometimes fulsome ideals in posts such as this.
The questions raised by this contre-temps are intensified, I think, by the fact that I am a Christian and I'm trying to write in a way that is consistent to my faith, whether here or in the comments on other blogs. One of the things that I firmly believe is that we are called to find and practice the presence of God in all that we do day to day (a la Brother Lawrence), even in this world of code and word which we call blogsphere. In that sense, like many other tasks we spend our time on, blogging can (and should) become an askesis for us (a spiritual discipline) which is designed to help us deepen our faith by finding God in where we are. Since we are dealing with real-live people in blogsphere (no matter how much the anonymity of the Internet seeks to hide it), we are constantly bumping against the two Great Commandments: having no God except God (our focus isn't to aggrandize ourselves, but to serve God) and loving our neighbour as ourselves (how do we interact with our fellow bloggers/commentators?).
So, what is the askesis of blogging? Certainly, they are a set of practices designed to bring us closer to God. Certainly, many of them come off as merely common sense or ethical. Don't mis-represent the truth. Don't get into ad hominem accusations. Don't give false witness. Those, I think are obvious enough not to provoke comment.
However, the real spiritual work, the real askesis, has to be found in the less certain, gray-areas of blogging. Am I taking the time to understand what someone is saying? How do I react to what I think is an unjust accusation? Am I charitable in my disagreements with people? Do I seek the truth, not my way, but God's way? Do I honestly love the person I'm agreeing with or do I just want to score a point? Am I just arguing for arguing sake?If I'm honest about these, I can't say that I'm always successful in them. I do post hastily and angrily without really listening to what someone is really saying, not what I think they're saying. I do treat some comments as attacks to be parried (if possibly, pre-emptively) rather than a person's honest thoughts. I do indulge in debating tactic to 'win' the argument without asking what God wants in this.
Still, an askesis taken on doesn't mean an instantaneous change in one's outlook or practice. The old monastics talk about askesis as a refining process in which the gold or silver is purified slowly and painstakingly from the dross. So, in the askesis of blogging, I can see and be grateful for my progress from my early days commenting on various bulletin boards (the ancestors to the blog). I am more careful about when I post and how. I am less inclined to indulge useless arguments, but find ways to break free of them graciously. I am starting to see that, as John Howard Yoder puts it, "Love of enemy must include love of the intellectual adversary, including intellectual respect for the holders of positions one must in conscience reject" and act accordingly. Like any askesis, I am being taught to leave my desire to win and be seen as smarter than my opponents where they belong; in the ditch along the side of the road.
I'm not there yet, but, by God's grace, there is progress. Perhaps with my prayers and yours as well, I will get there. God willing.
Peace,
Phil
Truthfully, I decided to write on this topic this week because of an exchange I was having with another blog which got rather heated on my side, largely because aspects of a post got up my left-nostril (one of my expressions for being annoyed-I don't know why it is important that it is the left nostril, so don't ask). Now, this kind of little explosion is not uncommon in blogsphere and, as explosions go, it was kind of small. It isn't like it sparked blog and counter-blog entries for weeks on end or made the news. Still, it is sometimes these small explosions which reveal our actual practice as bloggers, not our sometimes fulsome ideals in posts such as this.
The questions raised by this contre-temps are intensified, I think, by the fact that I am a Christian and I'm trying to write in a way that is consistent to my faith, whether here or in the comments on other blogs. One of the things that I firmly believe is that we are called to find and practice the presence of God in all that we do day to day (a la Brother Lawrence), even in this world of code and word which we call blogsphere. In that sense, like many other tasks we spend our time on, blogging can (and should) become an askesis for us (a spiritual discipline) which is designed to help us deepen our faith by finding God in where we are. Since we are dealing with real-live people in blogsphere (no matter how much the anonymity of the Internet seeks to hide it), we are constantly bumping against the two Great Commandments: having no God except God (our focus isn't to aggrandize ourselves, but to serve God) and loving our neighbour as ourselves (how do we interact with our fellow bloggers/commentators?).
So, what is the askesis of blogging? Certainly, they are a set of practices designed to bring us closer to God. Certainly, many of them come off as merely common sense or ethical. Don't mis-represent the truth. Don't get into ad hominem accusations. Don't give false witness. Those, I think are obvious enough not to provoke comment.
However, the real spiritual work, the real askesis, has to be found in the less certain, gray-areas of blogging. Am I taking the time to understand what someone is saying? How do I react to what I think is an unjust accusation? Am I charitable in my disagreements with people? Do I seek the truth, not my way, but God's way? Do I honestly love the person I'm agreeing with or do I just want to score a point? Am I just arguing for arguing sake?If I'm honest about these, I can't say that I'm always successful in them. I do post hastily and angrily without really listening to what someone is really saying, not what I think they're saying. I do treat some comments as attacks to be parried (if possibly, pre-emptively) rather than a person's honest thoughts. I do indulge in debating tactic to 'win' the argument without asking what God wants in this.
Still, an askesis taken on doesn't mean an instantaneous change in one's outlook or practice. The old monastics talk about askesis as a refining process in which the gold or silver is purified slowly and painstakingly from the dross. So, in the askesis of blogging, I can see and be grateful for my progress from my early days commenting on various bulletin boards (the ancestors to the blog). I am more careful about when I post and how. I am less inclined to indulge useless arguments, but find ways to break free of them graciously. I am starting to see that, as John Howard Yoder puts it, "Love of enemy must include love of the intellectual adversary, including intellectual respect for the holders of positions one must in conscience reject" and act accordingly. Like any askesis, I am being taught to leave my desire to win and be seen as smarter than my opponents where they belong; in the ditch along the side of the road.
I'm not there yet, but, by God's grace, there is progress. Perhaps with my prayers and yours as well, I will get there. God willing.
Peace,
Phil
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