Almsgiving and Therapy in the Thought of Chrysostom

One of the things I learned in the early days of the pandemic last year, when so much was so unknown and we were all stuck at home doomfully ruminating, was that one of the best ways to manage my anxiety was to do something very concrete for others--take my kids for a walk, get groceries for an elderly shut-in neighbor, help pack boxes at the foodbank. If I were inclined--and I am most certainly not--towards immediately racing out to copyright this idea and market it as every other psychotherapist on the continent seems hell-bent on doing--I might call this ARCS ("Anxiety-Reducing Community Service"). Almost all such "modalities" and their jumble of acronyms are merely mercenary repackaging (dread and ugly word: "branding") of what has been obvious for centuries. 

In any event, my very minor and perhaps even banal discovery about myself not only took the focus off myself and the tendency to catastrophize, but even more important it helped serve someone else. Thus in my late 40s did I remember something I had once learned in my early 20s (when I did extensive volunteer work) but then gotten crowded out of my memory by the press of having a family and full-time job. 

In any event, my realization seems to have a long pedigree as a new book suggests. This does not really surprise me for as I've been arguing for some time in a variety of places, much that is good in modern psychotherapy was already to be found, however inchoately, in early Christian monastic practice. This seems confirmed by the recent advent of John Chrysostom: On Almsgiving and the Therapy of the Soul by Junghun Bae (Brill, 2021), 207pp. 

About this book the publisher tells us this: 

In recent years, there has been significant scholarly focus on John Chrysostom’s appropriation of ancient psychagogy, demonstrating that he was a skilled Christian physician of the soul who sought to promote the somatic and psychological health of his congregation by proposing preaching and various ascetic disciplines as medical treatments. 

In these studies, however, relatively little attention has been devoted to his use of philosophical therapy in relation to almsgiving. To address this, this book aims to take a closer look at Chrysostom’s view of almsgiving and soul therapy within the context of ancient philosophical therapy. Ancient philosophers identified passions (πάθη), desires, and distorted thought as the diseases of the soul and developed various kinds of cognitive and behavioural remedies to cure these. Adopting an interdisciplinary approach between Greco-Roman philosophy and social ethics in early Christianity, particularly in the tradition of the Greek Fathers, what follows pursues a giver-centered analysis which has largely been ignored in the previous receiver-oriented research. 

Chrysostom and the Charismatics

My inner ecumenist's super-ego occasionally does battle with my triumphalist id when it comes to evangelical and charismatic Christians, especially in their on-going "discovery" of, e.g., patristic sources, iconography, medieval thought, and other matters. It is hard not to consider such attempts in a condescending manner sometimes, and such people as Johnny-Come-Lately types; harder still not to be horrified by such repugnant concepts as the "prosperity gospel." But resist such ungenerous thoughts and impulses, if they afflict you, to give this interesting book a hearing: John Chrysostom and African Charismatic Theology in Conversation: Salvation, Deliverance, and the Prosperity Gospel by Samantha L. Miller (Fortress Academic Press, 2021), 170pp. 

About this book the publisher tells us this:

This book puts John Chrysostom in conversation with deliverance ministries and the prosperity gospel in modern African charismatic Christianity. Samantha Miller argues that Chrysostom had a cosmology not unlike that present in the charismatic Christianity of the global south, where the world is populated by spirits able to affect the material world. Additionally, Chrysostom had plenty to say about suffering, demons, and prosperity. Through this conversation, issues of personal moral responsibility and salvation rise to the surface, and it is through these issues that modern Western and African Christians—theologians, pastors, missionaries, and laity—can perhaps have a conversation that gets past the question of a spirit-inhabited world and talk together about the saving work of Christ for the benefit of all the church.

By this same author, and on a similar topic, is another book published last year:  Chrysostom's Devil: Demons, the Will, and Virtue in Patristic Soteriology (IVP Academic, 2020), 216pp. About this book the publisher tells us:

For many Christians today, the notion that demons should play a role in our faith―or that they even exist―may seem dubious. But that was certainly not the case for John Chrysostom, the "golden-tongued" early church preacher and theologian who became the bishop of Constantinople near the end of the fourth century. Indeed, references to demons and the devil permeate his rhetoric. But to what end? In this volume in IVP Academic's New Explorations in Theology series, Samantha Miller examines Chrysostom's theology and world, both of which were imbued with discussions about demons. For Chrysostom, she contends, such references were employed in order to encourage Christians to be virtuous, to prepare them for the struggle of the Christian life, and ultimately to enable them to exercise their will as they worked out their salvation. Understanding the role of demons in Chrysostom's soteriology gives us insight into what it means to be human and what it means to follow Christ in a world fraught with temptation and danger. In that regard, Chrysostom's golden words continue to demonstrate relevance to Christians in today's world.

Demons, Psychology, and Chrysostom

The lunatic fringe in both Catholicism and whatever this thing called American evangelicalism is, have both been active in the last few days, flinging around in absurd and irresponsible manner the language of both angels and demons in a desperate and risible attempt to claim that the removal of the manifestly worst president in American history was somehow the result of supernatural forces which they claimed to "rebuke" and "exorcise." 

No real churchman of any intelligence or seriousness would go within a thousand miles of such antics, including John Chrysostom, subject of a new study: Samantha L. Miller, Chrysostom's Devil: Demons, the Will, and Virtue in Patristic Soteriology (IVP Academic, 2020), 216pp. About this new book the publisher tells us this: 

For many Christians today, the notion that demons should play a role in our faith―or that they even exist―may seem dubious. But that was certainly not the case for John Chrysostom, the "golden-tongued" early church preacher and theologian who became the bishop of Constantinople near the end of the fourth century. Indeed, references to demons and the devil permeate his rhetoric. But to what end? In this volume in IVP Academic's New Explorations in Theology series, Samantha Miller examines Chrysostom's theology and world, both of which were imbued with discussions about demons. For Chrysostom, she contends, such references were employed in order to encourage Christians to be virtuous, to prepare them for the struggle of the Christian life, and ultimately to enable them to exercise their will as they worked out their salvation. Understanding the role of demons in Chrysostom's soteriology gives us insight into what it means to be human and what it means to follow Christ in a world fraught with temptation and danger. In that regard, Chrysostom's golden words continue to demonstrate relevance to Christians in today's world.

Art, Craft, and Theology in Fourth-Century Authors

Morwenna Ludlow is well known among patristics scholars, not least for her book Gregory of Nyssa, which I profitably read many years ago. She has a new book just out on Kindle, and set for November release in hardback: Art, Craft, and Theology in Fourth-Century Christian Authors (Oxford University Press, 2020), 288pp. 

About this book the publisher tells us this:

Ancient authors commonly compared writing with painting. The sculpting of the soul was also a common philosophical theme. Art, Craft, and Theology in Fourth-Century Christian Authors takes its starting-point from such figures to recover a sense of ancient authorship as craft. The ancient concept of craft (ars, techne) spans 'high' or 'fine' art and practical or applied arts. It unites the beautiful and the useful. It includes both skills or practices (like medicine and music) and productive arts like painting, sculpting and the composition of texts. By using craft as a guiding concept for understanding fourth Christian authorship, this book recovers a sense of them engaged in a shared practice which is both beautiful and theologically useful, which shapes souls but which is also engaged in the production of texts. It focuses on Greek writers, especially the Cappadocians (Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nysa) and John Chrysostom, all of whom were trained in rhetoric. Through a detailed examination of their use of two particular literary techniques--ekphrasis and prosōpopoeia--it shows how they adapt and experiment with them, in order to make theological arguments and in order to evoke a response from their readership.

Eastern Christians Eating Virtuously

Several years ago I taught a very fun freshman seminar called "Eating God." We looked at the history, economics, politics, geography, psychology, philosophy, and theology of food around the world and across cultures, culminating in a unit on the Eucharist and the daring Orthodox-Catholic claim to be eating God. So books in this genre continue to interest me, including one just released: Food, Virtue, and the Shaping of Early Christianity by Dana Robinson (Cambridge University Press, 2020), 257pp.

About this book the publisher tells us this:

In this book, Dana Robinson examines the role that food played in the Christianization of daily life in the fourth century CE. Early Christians used the food culture of the Hellenized Mediterranean world to create and debate compelling models of Christian virtue, and to project Christian ideology onto common domestic practices. Combining theoretical approaches from cognitive linguistics and space/place theory, Robinson shows how metaphors for piety, such as health, fruit, and sacrifice, relied on food-related domains of common knowledge (medicine, agriculture, votive ritual), which in turn generated sophisticated and accessible models of lay discipline and moral formation. She also demonstrates that Christian places and landscapes of piety were socially constructed through meals and food production networks that extended far beyond the Eucharist. Food culture, thus, provided a network of metaphorical concepts and spatial practices that allowed the lay faithful to participate in important debates over Christian living and community formation.

We are also given the Table of Contents:

1. Introduction
2. The medicine moderation: John Chrysostom and the true fast
3. From dinner theater to domestic church in late antique Antioch
4. Shenoute's botanical virtues: fruit, labor, and ascetic production
5. The places of God: festivals, food service, and Christian community
6. Meals, mouths, and martyrs: Paulinus of Nola and sacrificial spaces
7. Conclusion.

Chrysostom on Slavery

The University of California recently put into my hands a new study of the Golden-Mouth of Constantinople: Chris L. de Wet, Preaching Bondage: John Chrysostom and the Discourse of Slavery in Early Christianity (University of California Press, 2015), 331pp.

About this book the publisher tells us:

Preaching Bondage introduces and investigates the novel concept of doulology, the discourse of slavery, in the homilies of John Chrysostom, the late fourth-century priest and bishop. Chris L. de Wet examines the dynamics of enslavement in Chrysostom’s theology, virtue ethics, and biblical interpretation and shows that human bondage as a metaphorical and theological construct had a profound effect on the lives of institutional slaves. The highly corporeal and gendered discourse associated with slavery was necessarily central in Chrysostom’s discussions of the household, property, education, discipline, and sexuality. De Wet explores the impact of doulology in these contexts and disseminates the results in a new and highly anticipated language, bringing to light the more pervasive fissures between ancient Roman slaveholding and early Christianity. The corpus of Chrysostom’s public addresses provides much of the literary evidence for slavery in the fourth century, and De Wet’s convincing analysis is a groundbreaking contribution to studies of the social world in late antiquity.

John Chrysostom and Divine Pedagogy

Kierkegaard famously said of Chrysostom that "he gesticulated with his whole existence," a sentiment with which the author of a new study on him would appear to agree: David Rylaarsdam, John Chrysostom on Divine Pedagogy: The Coherence of his Theology and Preaching (Oxford Early Christian Studies, 2014), 352pp.
About this book we are told: 

Contrary to the portrayals of Chrysostom as a theologically impaired, moralizing sophist, this book argues that his thinking is remarkably coherent when it is understood on his own terms and within his culture. Chrysostom depicts God as a teacher of philosophy who adaptably guides people toward salvation. Since the theme of divine adaptability influences every major area of Chrysostom's thought, tracing this concept provides a thorough introduction to his theology. It also explains, at least in part, several striking features of his homilies, including his supposed inconsistencies, his harsh rhetoric and apparent political naivete, his intentionally abridged and exoteric theological discussions, and his lack of allegiance to an "Antiochene school."

In addition to illuminating such topics, the concept of adaptability stands at one of the busiest intersections of Late Antique culture, for it is an important idea found in rhetoric and discussions about the best methods of teaching philosophy. Consequently, adaptability is an ingredient in the classical project of paideia, and Chrysostom is a Christian philosopher who seeks to transform this powerful tradition of formation. He gives his Christianized paideia a theological foundation by adapting and seamlessly integrating traditional pedagogical methods into his reading and communication of Scripture. David Rylaarsdam provides an in-depth case study of one prominent leader's attempt to transform culture by forming a coherent theological discourse that was adapted to the level of the masses.

Sanctify Them in the Truth

As I noted almost three years ago now, we have seen an explosion of books in the last decade devoted to the topic of theosis, otherwise known in English as divinization or deification (and I tell my students to pay special attention to the spelling of that latter term as a few of them turn in essays with it rendered as defecation!). Set for December release is a wide-ranging collection devoted to exploration of the idea of "sanctification," that is, how do we become holy and thus like God? Edited by Kelly M. Kapic, the book is Sanctification: Explorations in Theology and Practice (IVP, 2014), 300pp.

About this book we are told:

Often treated like the younger sibling in theology, the doctrine of sanctification has spent the last few decades waiting not-so-patiently behind those doctrines viewed as more senior. With so much recent interest in ideas like election and justification, the question of holiness can often seem to be of secondary importance, and widespread misunderstanding of sanctification as moralism or undue human effort further impedes thoughtful engagement. But what if we have missed the boat on what sanctification really means for today's believer? The essays in this volume, which come out of a recent Edinburgh Dogmatics Conference, address this dilemma through biblical, historical, dogmatic and pastoral explorations. The contributors sink their teeth into positions like the "works" mentality or "justification by faith alone" and posit stronger biblical views of grace and holiness, considering key topics such as the image of God, perfection, union with Christ, Christian ethics and suffering. Eschewing any attempt to produce a unified proposal, the essays included here instead offer resources to stimulate an informed discussion within both church and academy. Contributors include:

• Henri Blocher
• Julie Canlis
• Ivor Davidson
• James Eglinton
• Brannon Ellis
• Michael Horton
• Kelly M. Kapic
• Richard Lints
• Bruce McCormack
• Peter Moore (whose chapter focuses on the great Eastern Father John Chrysostom)
• Oliver O’Donovan
• Derek Tidball

Prayers from the East

1995 was a significant year for Orthodox-Catholic rapprochement. The late Pope John Paul II wrote an encyclical on Christian unity (about which I then wrote a book that the current pope commented on, if this post is to be believed) and almost simultaneously published another letter, Orientale Lumen, urging Catholics to get to know the treasures of Eastern Christianity in order that the Church would again (to use a favourite, if somewhat tiresome, metaphor of the late pope, which was not original to him but, if memory serves, came from Congar and was not unproblematic insofar as it seemed to overlook the Syriac tradition, as Sebastian Brock suggested) "breathe with both lungs, East and West." Frankly acknowledging that most Latin Catholics are entirely ignorant about the Christian East--and not merely Orthodoxy, but the millions of Eastern Catholics in their own communion--the pope asked the former to get to know those latter two in some detail. Nearly two decades after that request, I am regularly staggered by how little progress has been made notwithstanding a great, even ardent, interest in the East when some Latins do discover it. All of my Roman Catholic graduate students, e.g., are deeply drawn to the East and have been for some time, and when we read Eastern sources they cannot get enough of them and constantly hunger for more. But they are, it seems, a rare exception.

When Catholics and other Western Christians do look East, one of the first things they are often drawn toward is Eastern liturgy, about which not a little romanticism and myth-making has long endured. (This Robert Taft article should begin the process of disabusing one of those romanticized myths.)

Liturgy, thus, has loomed large in Eastern consciousness, and in Western consciousness of the East (recall Taft's frequent temptation to write a book "Inventing Eastern Orthodoxy," one chapter of which, he has often said, would be "Inventing Eastern Liturgy"). And so it is appropriate, as the West continues to learn about the East, that it begins with liturgy and prayer. It is, then, a welcome development to have, just in time for Christmas, a short and charming little book that I hope many Roman Catholics (and many other Christians, East and West, who will doubtless benefit)  find under their trees this December: J. Michael Thompson, Lights From the East: Pray for Us (Ligouri, 2013), 144pp. This book will not only be educational about important figures of the East, but--more important--it will help people to pray.

About this book the publisher tells us: 

Catholics worldwide are increasingly heeding the call of the late Pope John Paul II to breathe spiritually "with both lungs"-to be inspired by both Western and Eastern Christianity. Yet many Catholics are unaware that the Roman Catholic Church is in communion with twenty-two other Churches, which together comprise the Eastern Catholic Churches. Focused on Eastern holy ones Lights From the East presents incredible riches to English speakers worldwide, including icons, biographies, Scripture, reflections, translated quotations from the service that honors the saint, prayers, and original hymns set to Rusyn or Galician melodies.

This is the kind of book, I think, that one dives into from time to time rather than reading systematically straight through. It is like several other collections I have seen--a kind of "breviary" of a sort, with scriptural, liturgical, and iconographical texts and plates tied to the liturgical year commemorating saints in five categories: those of the Old and New Testaments; the Fathers and Mothers of the Church; monastics; saints common to East and West; and martyrs of the twentieth century. As such, this book would be ideal for those asked to lead a reflection at the start of a parish Bible study, say, or before a class, or for family reading at home to inspire the imaginations of children, particularly on the feast days of those feted herein.  

Unlike other similar collections, the outstanding feature of this book is its inclusion of liturgical music. The author is a well-known and highly accomplished liturgical and pastoral musician, and virtually all of the hymn texts and translations here are his own work, often a rendering into elegant English of Slavonic or Ukrainian or other Trans-Carpathian sources. (Last year the author graciously sent me a very lovely CD of prostopinije music for the Great Fast which I have listened to repeatedly since then.) As one who deeply loves Galician and Kievan chant, but who cannot (as my late grandmother used to say, of herself and many of her relations) "carry a tune in a bucket," this book is handy to have, and to give to those more musically talented than I, in the hopes that they will learn something of the beauties of East-Slavic chant in its various forms, and begin to make them more widely known--as well as the stories of some of those East-Slavic saints killed by the Nazis and Communists in that century of tears to which we recently bade farewell but from whose clutches we are not yet free.

I warmly commend this spiritually edifying little book and its author, whom I hope to interview in the coming days. 

Edith Humphrey on Scripture and Tradition

Nearly two years ago now, I interviewed the Orthodox biblical scholar and theologian Edith Humphrey about her book on liturgy, published in 2011. Well, she's a busy woman, and has another book out this year: Scripture and Tradition: What the Bible Really Says (Baker Academic, 2013), 192pp.

AD: Tell us about your recent background, and in particular what led you from your last book on liturgy to this new book, Scripture and Tradition. 

EH: Thanks for the opportunity to talk to you about my new book. In some ways, Scripture and Tradition may seem like a spin-off from Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven because one of the major questions people ask about worship styles is why a particular liturgical (or “non-liturgical”) tradition has developed in the way that it has. Why is there no instrumental music in the East, while organs and other instruments are used in the East: is this simply circumstance, or do these things have theological foundations and implications? Or why does my childhood ecclesial community, the Salvation Army, not baptize or celebrate the Eucharist, but instead dedicates babies and calls worshippers to the altar and holiness table to “give their lives as a living sacrifice.” Are the shape and content of such rites optional, responding to felt needs with “no disputing about tastes,” or are there some traditions that have been given and that we are to receive from the apostles and thus from the Lord? Is there “Holy Tradition”? If so, how do we tell the difference between mutable traditions, good in their own time but not necessary for every age, and the ongoing Tradition of God? No doubt I was thinking about some of these issues as I did the comparison of worship services in my book on worship, Grand Entrance, but the focus of that book was very particular—to remember that our worship is entrance into the very presence of God.

My book on worship touched frequently upon questions of tradition, but it was not these hanging threads that led me to write Scripture and Tradition. Instead, my husband asked me one of his annoying but tantalizing questions one day, “Why don’t you write a book about what the Bible says concerning tradition?” and I promptly responded that I was too busy. Then, one night when I couldn’t sleep, the question came back to haunt me. So I sat down in the living room, searching my Greek New Testament for places where the verb paradidomi (“I give over as a tradition”) and the noun paradosis (“tradition”) are found. I was stunned, because, being raised on the King James and then the original NIV Bible as a Protestant, I did not remember these particular passages as speaking specifically about tradition. A quick search in those translations confirmed my memory. For in these translations, the English word “tradition” is used in negative contexts, but avoided and paraphrased where the same Greek words are used positively, such as in St. Paul’s “Be steadfast firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught, whether by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thess. 2:15). This midnight treasure-hunt and discovery became the nucleus of a new book. The more I read, the more I discovered the rich teaching about worship that is both latent and explicitly articulated in various books of the Bible. To start with what the Bible itself says would, I hoped, turn a topic that is a source of conflict among Christians into words of encouragement. From there the book grew.

AD: Drawing on Jaroslav Pelikan among others, you recognize the tension in discerning what constitutes tradition and how to relate to it--what to keep, what to jettison. Tell us a bit about that tension. 

Jaroslav Pelikan (of blessed memory!) distinguishes between “tradition” as the “living faith of the dead” and traditionalism as “the dead faith of the living.” Perhaps we might want to respond to his first statement, that the dead are “alive” in Christ. However, his point is well taken. Tradition is God’s gift to the Church, and has an honoured place among us: some traditions, for example, the creeds and ecumenical councils, are indispensable--part of our DNA, so to speak.

Other traditions, however, we know very well have changed through the years, and are not the same across the world, even among a single communion. For example, the Russian jurisdictions of the Orthodox church sing the beatitudes at the opening of Divine Liturgy, while the Antiochian do not. The Antiochian Church of North America retains a full 40 days of feasting at Easter, whereas other jurisdictions revert to Wednesday and Friday fasts after Bright Week. It would be easy for the more rigorous to scorn those whose tradition is different, or for a liturgical enthusiast to deplore differences in liturgy in another jurisdiction. (“What is the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist? You can negotiate with a terrorist!” Ba-dum-dum!) Our brother Jaroslav, now among the blessed himself, reminds us that our focus is to be the Lord, the Holy Trinity, and not any “ism” at all. Tradition is good, kept where it belongs, and not worshipped. Tradition for its own sake rather than for the sake of the One who gave it, is a deadly thing. This would be parallel to those Jewish rigorists who made the Torah the center, rather than the Lord of the Torah, and so missed God’s greatest action in Jesus. We might think, too, of some fundamentalists who formally make the Bible the center, but forget that the Incarnate Word is the one to whom the Bible witnesses. (And they sometimes don’t notice that it is really their interpretation or tradition about the Bible that becomes the center of their teaching, either!) So, then, what we have received is a great gift, but our adoration goes to the Giver!

AD: As director of programs in theology at my university, I realized shortly after starting here that basic biblical literacy could no longer be presupposed, even in homes of self-identified church-going Christians. So I put together a new course, "Introduction to the Bible" for our students. Your introduction also tells of your experience with such illiteracy among your students, both in Montreal and Pittsburgh. What do you think are some of its causes today? What can be done to mitigate it? 

The causes of biblical illiteracy are not so very difficult to trace. First, there is a lack of interest in disciplined reading in general: our culture is more oriented to the image, and schools do not give priority to repetition or rigorous memorization today. Then, there is the postmodern distrust of history in general, and the Bible is considered one of those “old books”—a classic that culture has, by and large, outgrown. The Bible is relegated in many minds to the same place as that foggy and eccentric bishop in The Princess Bride who rapsodized on “mawwiage, that dweam within a dweam.”

In the Catholic and Orthodox communion, perhaps we have considered that an intimate knowledge of the Bible is the purview of the clergy, and that we only need what we get in the liturgy on Sunday. (This may have been mitigated partially since the changes at Vatican II, but at the same time that Bible study became more common in the Catholic communion, discipline in general also flagged.) Even though Protestants historically have stressed knowledge of the Bible, many from these churches have abandoned close study of the Bible due to a fixation upon personal spiritual experience as the end-all and be-all of the faith, and an over-emphasis upon God’s grace freely given (which sometimes obscures the need for human effort, including Bible study). Besides this, the multiplicity of new translations (however helpful) has obscured our common knowledge of specific verses of the Bible, which Christians used to know by heart. Whatever the reason, it is absolutely the case that the Scriptures are not known one tenth as well today as they were 60 years ago, and this holds true across the Christian communities in North America, though it is a more egregious problem in some places than others.

AD: Your introduction references your time in the Salvation Army, and also draws on the insights of Anglicans among whom you spent some time. (I first came across your name in the 1990s in Canada when you were associated with the Anglican Essentials movement, yes?) What do you think Eastern Christians can learn from those two traditions in particular? What are they lacking in light of Eastern Christian theology? 

Well, I suppose that a look at the daily life of a Salvation Army congregation might encourage historic churches to recover a love for Bible study, because that this continues to be the life-blood of Salvationists. Perhaps some of these studies are not deep, and rarely do they incorporate the insights of the Fathers, but it is simply true that the detailed and personal knowledge that an ordinary Salvationist has of the Bible would put most members of the Eastern churches to shame. Also, love and care for the poor and the marginalized is palpable there: I recently attended a “meeting” (divine service) with my mom, and the presence of the handicapped and minority groups was remarkable! (Those caring for them before, during and after the service were not the pastors, either: most members consider that they have a ministry).

As for those Anglicans who take the Scriptures and their tradition seriously (over against the revisionists who have over-run the national churches of the US and Canada), we can, I think, consider their zeal for evangelization and their strong exegetical preaching and teaching as helpful models. These communities call us back to our roots, for of course the early Church devoted itself to the teaching of the apostles, and continued in the apostolic mission: in their strengths, such sectarian communities are reminders to us of aspects of our identity that we may have put on the back-burner. My Orthodox father in Christ once commented that we could compare an Orthodox parish to an evangelical Protestant mission, likening one to a state-of-the-art hospital, while the other is more like a tiny clinic in a developing country. That is, the historic Church has all the riches of the Christian tradition at its disposal, all the “tools” and spiritual resources for healing, whereas a Salvation Army corps only has the bare minimum (and not always that), for it knows nothing of the mysteries, of the disciplines of corporate fasting, of the deep traditional prayers of the Church. However, if it uses what it has, some healing will come to folks where a perfectly equipped but indifferent parish can fail. May it not be that we, with all that we have, are less dedicated to the work of the Church in the world that God loves—more is demanded of us because so much more has been given (or received)!

AD: I wonder if you are familiar with the philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who speaks of an "epistemological crisis" that often develops between traditions. Such a crisis, he says, happens when Tradition A is challenged by Tradition B and the latter seems to have better answers to the issue at hand. Tradition A must then decide whether to scornfully ignore B, collapse and admit defeat, or incorporate (critically but appreciatively) B's insights into A's life. I mention this because you seem to have taken the third route with regard to your time in Protestant traditions. You don't scorn those traditions, but graciously draw on them to help Eastern Christians see what is good in them--and what is lacking. Is that a fair assessment? 

What you say makes some sense to me, although I think that MacIntyre’s typology doesn’t quite do justice to the reality. There is also a situation where Tradition A has become weak in some areas that are rightfully part of its own tradition, and Tradition B has accentuated this part, while neglecting other important things, perhaps while jettisoning these things. In that case, Tradition A can take a page, so to speak, form Tradition B’s notebook, while also being wary of the entire trajectory that Tradition B has taken. I think that the emphasis upon evangelism is perhaps obsessive in some evangelical communities. (For example, there is a common saying among evangelicals: “The Church is the only institution that exists for the benefit of others rather than its own members.” But this forgets that the purpose of the Church is to worship first, and that evangelism is not is primary raison d’être.)

Yet, it is also the case that the historical churches, in many places today, have become lazy, and are content to present the Church as a kind of fulfillment to those who have already been evangelized, rather than serving and speaking to those who know almost nothing about the Way. The Holy Spirit's free and can go where he wishes—so indeed, we can learn from sectarians. But this does not mean that we should relativize the difference, or back off from what we have been taught about the one holy catholic and apostolic Church.

AD: Tell us to what extent you think Christian differences over "tradition" are related to the difficulties of translating into English the Greek terms you discuss in your first chapter. 

Earlier I mentioned that several influential English translations (e.g. the KJV and the original NIV) avoid the word “tradition” when paradidomi and paradosis are used positively. There is also a difficulty simply in the English in that we don’t have a verb “to tradition” that parallels our noun, so that we have to use a paraphrase like “to pass on.” Both the avoidance of the terms (which come from the early Protestant allergy to Roman Catholic tradition) and the peculiarities of English certainly reinforce a tendency among some Protestants to consider tradition to be a category that is at odds with the gospel. But it is not all in the translations. The translations that avoided the term “tradition” are reflecting teaching from “non-traditional” or protesting communities, not creating this attitude. More crucial for Christian differences concerning tradition are the disagreements of the past (between Protestants and Catholics) and the inability to understand these disagreements from the inside (Orthodox). That is, there is now a long tradition of dispute concerning the meaning and place of tradition in the West, beginning with the fight of sola scriptura versus Scripture and Holy Tradition, complicated by the Anglican tradition of the “three-legged stool” (Scripture, Tradition and Reason) and hopelessly confused by various expressions of the so-called “Wesleyan Quadrilateral” (Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience) which is now appealed to in many different communities. Western Christians often do not even know why they have a visceral reaction for or against tradition. Eastern Christians who have not known the debate from the inside are apt to walk into a minefield in talking to those who have such reactions. This is not a matter, then, merely of translating the Greek New Testament, but of the history of the Church, especially from the Reformation to today.

AD: The end of your third chapter briefly refers to some Anglicans who "privilege" (to use a favored academic pseudo-verb!) their own views in matters of sexuality and abortion over Paul and Scripture generally. How can O/orthodox Christians respond to such claims--or can they? 

It may be helpful for Orthodox Christians (and others who hold to Scripture as interpreted by Holy Tradition) to point out that these are not single hot-button issues, but indicative of an entire stance of faithfulness, or lack of it. The rise of the “Wesleyan” Quadrilateral as an interpretive method has emboldened some biblical scholars and pastors to appeals to “experience” (their own, or that of contemporary Western society) as a “trump card” in deciding whether to follow the Bible and the consistent witness of the Church in these matters. The words of the Apostle Paul are neutralized because he is said simply not to have had a broad enough experience in matters of gender, for example: if he were among us today, he would change his mind in accordance with the broad inclusivity of the gospel. Similarly, the traditional understanding of the Church regarding the sanctity of life, a stance drawn from Scriptures as a whole, and its applicability to the unborn, is questioned because (say some) we now understand that personhood is to be “in relation.” The unborn child does not have this capacity, and the rights and needs of the mother are more significant. But we worship a God who created them “male and female” and who himself became an embryo, sanctifying childbirth, human life, and human sexuality. Attention both to the specific texts that deal with gender and the sanctity of life, attention to the consistent witness of the Church in these issues, and attention to the entire story of salvation are all important in this time of confusion. This balanced approach removes the issues from the center of attention as stand-alone issues, helping us to keep the focus upon our Incarnate Lord, born of a woman, who graced a wedding between a man and a woman at Cana. It prevents moralism, but allows us to show why these issues matter today.

AD: Your sixth chapter talks about trying to discern between Tradition and human traditions. Does Scripture itself offer any guidance here? 

Yes, indeed, I think so, though sometimes the difference can only be seen in retrospect. The best clues we receive are, I think, in the decision-making passages of the early Church. In the first council of the Church, decisions were taken regarding which instructions should be given to Gentiles who had become Christians—did they need to be circumcised or not? The decision the James and the others took is presented with reference to custom, knowledge and reason, and it appears as a kind of compromise. The Gentiles did not need to keep the whole law, but should avoid meat offered to idols, avoid porneia (sexual immorality, or possibly, the specific immorality of close inter-sanguinal marriages), and not eat meat with blood still in it. Though this was an early and general council, its specifics have not been maintained by all Christian communities since, especially the command having to do with properly-bled meat. Why have Christians not felt so bound? The clue is in the language of deliberation (“it is my judgment,” Acts 15:19), and the reasons given by James for the decision—“For Moses has been preached in every city from the earliest times and is read in the synagogues on every Sabbath" (Acts 15:21).

Why these rules? Because they know Moses and will understand why we are saying these things. (Notice he does not give theological reasons, but cultural ones). The ruling made it possible for Jewish and Gentile Christians to live in peace, and its main reason was summarized in some later versions of the Acts passage which omit the actual commands, and simply put a version of the Golden Rule in its place. This was a compromise measure meant to promote the harmony of the early Church.

The spirit of the regulation continues, as do the principles of morality and faith in one God, but its specificity is no longer necessary in later contexts. We may also take note of the decision process—the witness of various members of the community is heeded, the Old Testament Scriptures are searched for words about the Gentiles, and the focus is upon God’s action in Christ. The issue at hand is put in the context of the larger picture; there is collegial discussion among the leaders; and the bishop speaks, taking all of this into consideration. This tells us that when making decisions about tradition in the Church, this is not a solitary or hasty affair, but it requires care, discernment, and deference of one to the other. As I say in the book, deciding between mutable traditions and Holy Tradition is not a matter for the arrogant, the hasty, or the faint of heart.

AD: Your conclusions speaks of "newcomers" engaged in "'cherry-picking' of the Tradition." That, it seems to me, is an especial danger for Catholic and Orthodox converts today. What suggestions would you have to avoid the pitfalls of such an approach? 

That is interesting. My experience with converts is that they tend to go whole hog and become purists about everything rather than engaging in a pick-and-choose cherry-picking! I was actually thinking more about intrigued Protestants who fasten upon a particular part of the tradition without seeing how it relates to the whole. Consider the Reformed Christian who stumbles upon icons, and blithely puts them up on his or her wall without a thought of Calvinist theology, and without understanding that these icons are not little illustrations of the gospel, but part of an entire theology of Incarnation. Or the more sophisticated theologian who loves the Eastern emphasis upon “mystery” but uses it to downplay the importance of the ecumenical creeds. Or the biblical scholar who fastens upon the “Christus Victor” approach to atonement in order to get away from sacrificial language—but doesn’t notice that the Eastern liturgy is full of the language of sacrifice! For those who are tempted to flirt with aspects of Eastern Christianity, as well as for new converts, I recommend that they start reading the Fathers (start with St. John Chrysostom’s sermons!), and attend Divine Liturgy and Vespers. This puts the elements that they are in love with in context, and prevents distortion or one-sidedness. It also is in the worship that we really come to understand. As Jesus invited, “Come and See!”

AD: Sum up the book briefly and tell us who you think should read it. 

The book demonstrates from the Bible that Scripture and Tradition are intertwined, and that if one accepts the authority of Scripture, one will not dismiss Tradition. It discloses some of the history of the debate, and current tendencies today. Its target audience is evangelical Protestants, but I think that it holds interest for for Catholics, Orthodox and mainline Protestants as well. It is always helpful for traditional Christians to appreciate the biblical center of our Holy Tradition, and it may be helpful for more “liberal” Protestants to consider how we have come to be polarized in these areas, that is, the reasons for our disagreements today.

AD: What are you at work on now? What are the upcoming writing projects? 

I am finishing off an article on “sacrifice and sacrament” for a volume to be edited by Hans Boersma and Matthew Levering, a "Handbook on Sacramentality."  I am also about to begin a long-term work, reading the apostle Paul’s passages on righteousness and justification through the eyes of the fathers, moving towards a book entitled (provisionally) "Let Us Meditate Upon Your Righteousness."   I am also planning a more popular book about the importance of mediation in the spiritual life, tentatively entitled "Mediation and the Immediate God."

The Evil of Moneylending

Just released late last year is a book that manages to be both 'ancient and ever new,' that is, to draw on ancient sources still relevant today in our ongoing discussion about fiscal issues and policies in  the world's economies: Brenda Llewellyn Ihssen, They Who Give from Evil: The Response of the Eastern Church to Moneylending in the Early Christian Era (Pickwick, 2012), 207pp. I asked the author, who teaches at Pacific Lutheran University, for an interview and here are her thoughts:

AD: Tell us a bit about your background.

BLI: Well let me begin by saying “thank you” to you for this opportunity to answer some questions about myself and my work. I was born and raised in western Washington State, on the Puget Sound. I completed my Bachelor’s Degree in English and Education, and taught English in the public school system in Oregon state for a few years. Though I enjoyed my job and knew that I was called to the vocation of teaching, still I desired to study the early history and theology of the Christian church. I took a leave from teaching and returned to school; I completed my Master’s degree in theology at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in Berkeley, California, and then my PhD at the University of St. Michael’s College in Toronto. After I graduated I returned to teaching, but not to the junior high classroom. I returned to the Pacific Northwest, where I teach as a Visiting Assistant Professor of Religion at Pacific Lutheran University.

AD: What led you to write this book in particular?

BLI: This began as a dissertation. I was directed towards this topic by my Doctor-Father, T. Allan Smith at the Faculty of Theology (St. Michael’s). Many dissertations emerge from places of deep passion for students; this was not my situation. That said, I found myself quite wooed by the topic of usury and by those about whom I was writing; quite quickly, their concerns became mine. I cannot help but think that this had something to do with the fact that I did not grow up with wealth and as a graduate student I was deeply in debt.

After I completed the dissertation I assumed that I would put this away and move on, but people were interested, and so I kept working on it. From the dissertation I produced an article for the Journal of Early Christian Studies, a chapter for the book Reading Patristic Texts on Social Ethics: Issues and Challenges for Twenty-First-Century Christian Social Thought (Catholic University of America Press, 2011) and another chapter for a forthcoming compendium on the social justice theologies of the patristic authors. While these projects seemed to close the chapter on this topic for me, enough people encouraged me to revisit the dissertation and revise it for publication as a monograph. I found myself rewriting large sections in light of what I have learned since 2004, and so I am ultimately glad that I revised the work for those who are interested in the social justice theologies of early Christian authors.

AD: Your title already "telegraphs" a rather stark view of many early Christian leaders about money-lending. In what did the evil consist? 

BLI: The evil for patristics lies in the deception of the one who lends, and this is an attitude that has quite ancient roots. The one who lends operates under the pretext of helping someone in need; while it appears as if the lender is offering assistance, in fact they are setting up a condition of debt from which it is often unlikely that the impoverished individual will successfully emerge. I compare this in my book to a usurer throwing an anvil rather than a rope to a person who is drowning. That said, the one who borrows is not off the hook, and individuals are cautioned—especially in the works of Basil and Gregory—to refrain from borrowing money for an extravagant lifestyle. In such cases, they are not innocent.

AD: You open with a chapter on Basil and Gregory of Nyssa and most of your focus is on them. What led you to them in particular? 

Well they are exceptional because they are the only two Greek patristic theologians to write sermons dedicated solely to this topic. Other writings on usury were simply tangential portions embedded in writings that had other intentions. In the Latin west there is Ambrose, but his sermon on this topic draws directly from Basil. So I was interested first in the scarcity of the topic, then on the fact that these two brothers—from affluent families, no less—are both writing on usury, and they are the only ones devoting concentrated attention to it. Then I was intrigued by secondary scholarship that seemed to dismiss Gregory’s contribution though my interpretation was that Gregory had something unique to offer. My desire to go forward with this project was supported by the patristic scholar Paul Fedwick, who felt that it was a good time to reassess the value of these sermons, most especially that of Gregory.

Basil the Great

AD: Are there other patristic sources, in addition to Basil and Gregory, who are important for or influential upon the questions of moneylending?  

It is worth pointing out that patristic theologians of both the Eastern and Western realms of the Empire were in agreement on the subject of usurious lending; though legal, usury was understood as contrary to divine law, and therefore any interest at all was condemned. This does not mean that the patristics did not recognize that lending did take place; it just meant that they did not agree that it should. In the Eastern Empire, Clement of Alexandria relies on biblical precedent in the Hebrew Scriptures for his statements in the Stromata against usurious practices, and Cyril of Jerusalem lists usury in his On the Ten Points of Doctrine within a list of sins that includes tavern-hunting, necromancy and witchcraft! Gregory of Nazianzus also condemned the practice in his poignant Oration 16. John Chrysostom is probably the most important and condemning of the practice; apart from our brothers Basil and Gregory, he has the most to say about moneylending and wealth in general. Many of Chrysostom’s homilies argue that the only investment worth making is in heaven; therefore one should give to the poor as Christ and earn interest for themselves in heaven, not on earth. Of the Latin fathers, perhaps the most important is Ambrose’ De Tobia; though his text lifts whole sections from Basil’s sermon, nevertheless his contribution is both important and provocative. It is worth noting also that the patristic theologians East and West inherited their attitudes from philosophers such as Philo of Alexandria, Plutarch, Aristotle and Plato. In this way, the Christian authors stand in a tradition of great thinkers on this topic.

AD:  Some Christians today would say that these early strictures about interest, usury, and related notions are no longer applicable because the economies of our time--at least in most of Europe, North America, and Australasia--are so vastly different. What are your thoughts on that?  

Yes, I hear this often. But while our economic systems and structures for handling finance have radically changed, people have not. We continue to have problems associated with greed and abundance, and we continue to fail to solve the problem of scarcity. A great example of this is that in late November—just after the holiday in the United States devoted to domestic arts—I read in the news that between thirty to fifty percent of food is wasted globally due to problems with storage, rigid adherence to expiry dates on packages and a need for fruits and vegetables to match an aesthetic criterion that is unreasonable. It takes no technology to fix this problem; it takes only a willingness to be morally responsible to the needs of the people and the planet. One might choose to purchase and eat food that is not perfect, or to not buy foods in bulk if they may go to waste. Or, if something might go to waste one could quickly share it with someone who might need it. These are three simple solutions, and this same type of thinking is found in the writings of Basil and Gregory. For example Basil (drawing on the works of Plutarch and from Proverbs), encourages those in need to avoid borrowing if they can, and to look first to their own resources first before enslaving themselves to money-lenders. He writes “Do you have metal plates, clothing, beasts of burden, utensils of every kind? Sell them; permit all things to go except your liberty.” This is as good a suggestion today as it was then, so while the systems are different, I think that the solutions are still appropriate. I do think that these early strictures about interest and usury are as applicable today as they were in the fourth century.

AD: The end of your first chapter references the subprime lending and mortgage crisis that sent much of the world into economic tumult in the last five years. Were they alive today, what advice would the Cappadocian brothers give to these problems?

I think that Basil would not have soothing words to say to those who tried to live beyond their means and borrowed too much, but I also think that he would take banks to task for holding out the promise of low interest to people who are not able to understand fully what financial deal they are making. I think that we can turn to John Chrysostom for the most extreme response to the evil of the type of lending that has been so disastrous for our country, for he equates a moneylender in his Homily Five on Matthew with a murderer: “under the cloak of kindness he digs the pitfall deeper, by the act of help burdening a man’s poverty, and in the act of stretching out the hand thrusting him down, and when receiving him as in harbor, involving him in shipwreck, as on a rock, or shoal, or reef.” Elsewhere Basil agrees with this sentiment, that one who has it in their good to do power but instead does evil is equated with a murderer, and Gregory refers to a usurer as a “murderous physician” who kills rather than heals. This is not an image of their own making, for the Hebrew Scriptures equate financial sins with murder, and Psalm 15—the Psalm on which Basil and Gregory focus their sermons—notes that the usurer will not be counted among those who will dwell on the Lord’s “holy hill.” Even Cato the Elder when asked “What do you think of lending at usury?” replied, “What do you think of killing a man?” So, what do I think of those who lent to those who did not have the capacity to pay their mortgages? Well, what do you think of killing someone?

AD: You note (p.109) that no Father was as adamant as John Chrysostom in his denunciations of affluence and usury. What are the problems he sees? Is his thinking broadly representative of the other sources you look at? 

I would agree that he is broadly representative of the sources, not only in his theology but also in his method. Like the other Fathers whom I highlight in the text, Chrysostom includes usury in homilies devoted to other subjects, but the financial concerns are brought into the discussion as part of something larger. As well, with respect to the problems that he sees regarding unjust financial transactions, Chrysostom is largely concerned with the direction of people’s investments. In other words, they are investing in transitory, material things rather than in that which is divine, or Heaven. Of course this seems odd to many who do not come from an Orthodox or Catholic background with a tradition of the Fathers; how can one invest in Heaven? To understand what this means for the Fathers, one has to understand something of their anthropology and theology. If God is accessible through God’s uncreated energies, then investing in Heaven is possible in the “here and now” because when one aids someone in need, then one is responding to God. This is a concept that all of the Greek Fathers seem to share, but it does seem that for Chrysostom it is a theme to which he returns many times. Gregory of Nyssa also promotes this same way of thinking about giving as “investing in heaven,” going so far as to call God a debtor to us! But of course what he means by that is that God, who gives from God’s abundance, is the model for giving.

 AD: How do you, and the Fathers, understand the problem of moneylending in directly theological terms? That is, usury is condemned (presumably) not just because of socioeconomic problems it creates for people, but also because such practices do not reflect who God is. What images of God, what descriptions of His nature, emerge from the Christian tradition's treatment of usury? 

BLI: All of the Fathers on whom I write are approaching their topic through the lens of asceticism and monasticism. In other words, they are individuals who have intentionally divested themselves of unnecessary wealth and they live among a community that supports that ideal. Of course, we have to recognize that they lived during an age when ecclesiastical leaders were expected to be connected to monastic communities and being an “ascetic” had become rather part of the job description of the professional religious. Further, they had communities that supported them spiritually, emotionally and materially, so to divest oneself of wealth while still be provided for is hardly the same thing as divesting oneself of wealth and not knowing a single soul in the city. As well, these were all individuals who were classically educated, and so their image of God is very much shaped by that education. Their theology has an impact on their understanding of economic practices as each moment, each financial interaction, becomes for them—and for us as well—an opportunity to meet God in the poor. However, this also means that something of God’s nature (the divine energies) cannot be approached or known as long as human nature is dressed in the garments of sin and stained by avarice. Gregory of Nyssa, in his Sermon 5, Forgive us our Debts, writes that an evil response by the wealthy to the poor distorts the inherent goodness of creation. This is ultimately, for Gregory, tied up in his Christology, for a proper understanding of shared human nature on the part of the giver will move both the giver and the receiver towards an original state of purity. In this way, acts of benevolence and goodness clarify the divine image that both parties are capable of demonstrating. “For as you practice goodness,” he writes, “you are clothed in Christ and as you become like Christ you become like God.”

AD: Sum up for us what you hope to accomplish with this book, and then tell us what you are working on now.  


First, I hoped that this book might provide a helpful history of the development of lending in the Greek, Roman and Hebrew cultures. Many times books on economic history are pretty formidable, and so I attempted to write a history that would be accessible to those with more than a passing interest but yet not necessarily students of ancient economies or legal systems. Second, I felt strongly that Gregory of Nyssa did not receive due treatment in secondary materials that analyzed his work; it felt too often that his sermon was treated as a mere copy of Basil’s, when in fact it was Ambrose who lifted who passages out of Basil’s sermon! I think that many times Gregory’s writings on similar topics of Basil’s were his way of saying “I have something to contribute as well,” and that is an attitude that we should model. I think it would have been challenging to have been the sibling of Basil, and even though Gregory has in no way suffered with respect to academic treatment of his theology, still, with respect to this one sermon I felt that it warranted—and that he deserved—a closer look.

What I am working on now is something quite different. I am completing for Ashgate a manuscript on the writing of John Moschos, a late sixth, early seventh century monk who composed a document known as the Pratum Spirituale, or The Spiritual Meadow. Along with his companion Sophronios, Moschos traveled around Palestine and Sinai and collected what we call “beneficial tales,” very brief stories most often focused on monastic life. Moschos is an enigmatic figure, and my manuscript seeks to uncover through close analysis of select tales in his text what we might be able to learn of the social history of the early Byzantine monks and lay people at a turning point in the history of the Eastern Empire. Now this seems like a project that is unrelated, but it is actually the topic of finances that led me back to Moschos’ Pratum. Years ago I realized that many of the tales dealt with—in some way—problems of scarcity, greed and financial suffering. So when it was time to embark on a new scholarship project I found my way into the text through, once again, the theme of social justice.

Camille Paglia on Art

I started reading Camille Paglia fresh out of high-school twenty years ago now, finding her polemical style a bracing corrective to much of the otherwise tiresome journalism and academic writing I was then reading. Her thoughts on Christianity, atheism, feminism, and art in this interview are worth your time.

She makes mention of a new book she's just published with an Eastern Christian angle to it: Glittering Images: A Journey Through Art from Egypt to Star Wars (Pantheon, 2012), 202pp.

Her fifth chapter is on St. John Chrysostom, and her twenty-fifth chapter is on Andy Warhol, who was an Eastern (Byzantine) Catholic. Along the way, she mentions briefly Byzantine iconography and iconoclasm.

The publisher further tells us about this book:

From the best-selling author of Sexual Personae and Break, Blow, Burn and one of our most acclaimed cultural critics, here is an enthralling journey through Western art’s defining moments, from the ancient Egyptian tomb of Queen Nefertari to George Lucas’s volcano planet duel in Revenge of the Sith.

America’s premier intellectual provocateur returns to the subject that brought her fame, the great themes of Western art. Passionately argued, brilliantly written, and filled with Paglia’s trademark audacity, Glittering Images takes us on a tour through more than two dozen seminal images, some famous and some obscure or unknown—paintings, sculptures, architectural styles, performance pieces, and digital art that have defined and transformed our visual world. She combines close analysis with background information that situates each artist and image within its historical context—from the stone idols of the Cyclades to an elegant French rococo interior to Jackson Pollock’s abstract Green Silver to Renée Cox’s daring performance piece Chillin’ with Liberty. And in a stunning conclusion, she declares that the avant-garde tradition is dead and that digital pioneer George Lucas is the world’s greatest living artist. Written with energy, erudition, and wit, Glittering Images is destined to change the way we think about our high-tech visual environment.

Ambrose and John Chrysostom

One trend becoming more widespread today in religious history and religious studies generally is what I would call "urban studies." Particular attention is paid to the cities of Christian antiquity and their influence on the Church and theology. Such a focus is at work in a new book that focuses on two of the towering figures of, respectively, Latin and Greek Christianity, Ambrose of Milan and John Chrysostom, both known for their rhetorical power. They are examined together in this Oxford University publication:

J. H. W. G. Liebeschuetz, Ambrose and John Chrysostom: Clerics between Desert and Empire (OUP, 2011), 320pp.


About this book, Oxford tells us:

J. H. W. G. Liebeschuetz compares the personalities and the respective careers of two of the greatest of the early Christian Fathers, Ambrose and John Chrysostom. While the statesmanlike Ambrose ended his life as a pillar of the Western establishment, Chrysostom, the outspoken idealist, died in exile. However, their views and ideals were remarakably similar: both bishops were concerned with the social role of the Church, both were determined opponents of what they called the Arian heresy, and each attracted a dedicated following among his urban congregation. This similarity, Liebeschuetz argues, was due not to the influence of one on the other, but was a consequence of their participation in a Christian culture which spanned the divide between the Eastern (later Byzantine) and Western parts of the Roman Empire. The monastic movement figures throughout the book as an important influence on both men and as perhaps the most dynamic development in the Christian culture of the fourth century.