"Let books be your dining table, / And you shall be full of delights. / Let them be your mattress,/And you shall sleep restful nights" (St. Ephraim the Syrian).
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.
In the spring issue of Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies (details forthcoming), we feature an article on the role Syriac Christianity played in early missionary efforts into the Far East--China especially. Perhaps even more neglected than these efforts are Syriac writers further south in the Persian Gulf. They have been treated in a new book: Mario Kozah et al., eds., The Syriac Writers of Qatar in the Seventh Century (Gorgias Press, 2014), 300pp.
About this book we are told:
This edited volume presents a number of Syriac monastic and ascetical
writers from the seventh century who were born and educated in Beth
Qatraye (Syriac for Qatar or Region of the Qataris) of which Isaac of
Nineveh of Qatar is considered to be the most influential of all Syriac
monastic writers and who continues to exert a strong influence in
monastic circles today. Many of the others like Dadisho of Qatar,
Gabriel bar Lipeh of Qatar, Abraham bar Lipeh of Qatar, Gabriel Arya of
Qatar, and Ahob of Qatar were important Syriac writers on spirituality
and commentators or exegetes within the Church of the East tradition.
These writers, who all originated from the Qatar region and were
educated there, reveal the presence of an important school of education
that rivaled in its sophistication the other more well-known schools
such as the School of Nisibis or the School of Edessa. The Syriac
writers of Qatar themselves produced some of the best and most
sophisticated writing to be found in all Syriac literature of the
seventh century. The Syriac writers of Qatar have not received the
scholarly attention that they deserve in the last half century. This
volume seeks to redress this underdevelopment by setting the standard
for further research in the sub-field of Beth Qatraye studies. This
volume includes papers presented at an international conference held at
Qatar University in collaboration with the American University of Beirut
entitled "The Syriac Writers of Qatar in the Seventh Century." The
conference took place on 26-27 February, 2014. It was the first of its
kind in the Gulf Region, and it brought together some of the most
prominent scholars in Syriac Studies. The conference was part of a three
year research project funded by the Qatar National Research Fund (QNRF)
under its National Priorities Research Program (NPRP).
It often happens in the world of academic publishing that deadlines get changed. And so even though I drew attention to this book nearly a year ago, in anticipation of a Fall 2014 publication, it seems that it will finally be in print at the end of next month. And it is a hefty tome well worth waiting for, not least for all those interested in recent Christian, especially Russian Orthodox, history, as well as those with interests in ecclesiology.
By the early twentieth century, a genuine renaissance of religious
thought and a desire for ecclesial reform were emerging in the Russian
Orthodox Church. With the end of tsarist rule and widespread
dissatisfaction with government control of all aspects of church life,
conditions were ripe for the Moscow Council of 1917-1918 to come into
being. The council was a major event in the history of the Orthodox
Church. After years of struggle for reform against political and
ecclesiastical resistance, the bishops, clergy, monastics, and laity who
formed the Moscow Council were able to listen to one other and make
sweeping decisions intended to renew the Russian Orthodox Church.
Council members sought change in every imaginable area—from seminaries
and monasteries, to parishes and schools, to the place of women in
church life and governance. Like Vatican II, the Moscow Council
emphasized the mission of the church in and to the world.
Destivelle’s study not only discusses the council and its resolutions
but also provides the historical, political, social, and cultural
context that preceded the council. In the only comprehensive and probing
account of the council, he discusses its procedures and achievements,
augmented by substantial appendices of translated conciliar documents.
Tragically, due to the Revolution, the council's decisions could not be
implemented to the extent its members hoped. Despite current trends in
the Russian church away from the Moscow Council’s vision, the council’s
accomplishments remain as models for renewal in the Eastern churches.
I just received in the mail a new book whose author I know somewhat and whom I have arranged to interview in the coming days: Peter C. Bouteneff, Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence (St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 2015), 231pp. I'm excited to read this book and even more to hear from Peter, not least because I know nothing about music and have long admired people who not only understand music but can also play it, a skill I still hope to develop some day. (I take consolation from the fact that my late paternal grandmother had a cousin who, at the age of 80, decided one day she too wanted to learn how to play piano, and set about doing precisely that. She then spent most of the next decade or so of her life driving around southern Ontario to play music "for the old folks" in nursing homes!)
About this book the publisher tells us:
Listeners often speak of a certain mystery in the way that Arvo Pärt
evokes spirituality through his music, but no one has taken a sustained,
close look at how he achieves this. Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence examines
the powerful interplay between Pärt s music and the composer s own deep
roots in the Orthodox Christian faith a relationship that has born much
creative fruit and won the hearts of countless listeners across the
globe.
Liturgical Subjects examines the
history of the self in the Byzantine Empire, challenging narratives of
Christian subjectivity that focus only on classical antiquity and the
Western Middle Ages. As Derek Krueger demonstrates, Orthodox Christian
interior life was profoundly shaped by patterns of worship introduced
and disseminated by Byzantine clergy. Hymns, prayers, and sermons
transmitted complex emotional responses to biblical stories,
particularly during Lent. Religious services and religious art taught
congregants who they were in relation to God and each other.
Focusing
on Christian practice in Constantinople from the sixth to eleventh
centuries, Krueger charts the impact of the liturgical calendar, the
eucharistic rite, hymns for vigils and festivals, and scenes from the
life of Christ on the making of Christian selves. Exploring the verse of
great Byzantine liturgical poets, including Romanos the Melodist,
Andrew of Crete, Theodore the Stoudite, and Symeon the New Theologian,
he demonstrates how their compositions offered templates for Christian
self-regard and self-criticism, defining the Christian "I." Cantors,
choirs, and congregations sang in the first person singular expressing
guilt and repentence, while prayers and sermons defined the collective
identity of the Christian community as sinners in need of salvation. By
examining the way models of selfhood were formed, performed, and
transmitted in the Byzantine Empire, Liturgical Subjects adds a vital dimension to the history of the self in Western culture.
I recently discussed the Armenian Genocide in my class on Eastern Christian encounters with Islam. And lo and behold the very next week Pope Francis acknowledged what every other sane and serious person on the planet knows, viz., that it was an organized, systematic slaughter of the Armenians both qua Armenians and also as Christians: thus a genocide. The Turkish government, of course, did not cover themselves in glory in their response to the pope, a response as risible as that given by the Turkish MP interviewed in this documentary (at 16:31), which I showed to my students:
As I have noted on here several times over the last two years, 2014 marked the centenary of the outbreak of the Great War, and now in April 2015 we are marking the centenary of the Armenian Genocide. (The New Yorker has a long and fascinating article on the genocide, which you may read here.)
Numerous books have recently been published--discussed below--and several more are set for release later this year, including Alan Whitehorn's The Armenian Genocide: A Century of Remembrance and Denial (Praeger, 2015), 325pp. About this book we are told by the publisher:
A century after the devastating mass killing of the Ottoman Armenians
during the Armenian Genocide—considered one of the first genocides of
the 20th century—this catastrophe continues to raise important and
troubling issues, particularly given the Turkish state's ongoing denial.
Indeed, much of the continuing instability and conflict in the Caucasus
is rooted in the Armenian Genocide. Drawing upon diverse academic
disciplines and written by a single author who is a leading expert on
the subject, The Armenian Genocide: A Century of Remembrance and Denial
explores the profound short- and long-term impacts of the 1915 Armenian
Genocide. The chapters document how this genocide created a scattered
and traumatized Armenian Diaspora and imposed major stresses upon the
tiny and vulnerable landlocked Armenian state. The book addresses
difficult topics such as the challenge of the "double death" of the
victims as a result of the ongoing Turkish state denial. This volume
provides an analysis of the Armenian Genocide from several analytical
perspectives, thereby giving readers a more comprehensive understanding
of this enormously important subject.
About the Armenian genocide--accompanied by an equally devastating, though far less well known, simultaneous slaughter of Pontic Greeks and Assyrian Christians, and later Aegean Greek Christians also--we have seen a number of recent books, and later in 2015 will see several more. (For those desirous of some background at the conceptual and biographical level of "genocide" and the terms origins in the work of Raphael Lemkin, see here.)
The most controversial question that is still being asked about the
First World War - was there an Armenian genocide? - will come to a head
on 24 April 2015, when Armenians worldwide will commemorate its
centenary and Turkey will deny that it took place, claiming that the
deaths of over half of the Armenian race were justified. This has
become a vital international issue. Twenty national parliaments in
democratic countries have voted to recognise the genocide, but Britain
and the USA continue to equivocate for fear of alienating their NATO
ally. Geoffrey Robertson QC condemns this hypocrisy, and in An
Inconvenient Genocide he proves beyond reasonable doubt that the
horrific events in the Ottoman Empire in 1915 constitute the crime
against humanity that is today known as genocide. He explains how
democracies can deal with genocide denial without infringing free
speech, and makes a major contribution to understanding and preventing
this worst of all crimes. His renowned powers of advocacy are on full
display as he condemns all those - from Sri Lanka to the Sudan, from Old
Anatolia to modern Syria and Iraq - who try to justify the mass murder
of children and civilians in the name of military necessity or religious
fervour.
While much of the international community regards the forced deportation
of Armenian subjects of the Ottoman Empire in 1915, where approximately
800,000 to 1.5 million Armenians perished, as genocide, the Turkish
state still officially denies it.
In Denial of Violence,
Fatma Müge Göçek seeks to decipher the roots of this disavowal. To
capture the negotiation of meaning that leads to denial, Göçek undertook
a qualitative analysis of 315 memoirs published in Turkey from 1789 to
2009 in addition to numerous secondary sources, journals, and
newspapers. She argues that denial is a multi-layered, historical
process with four distinct yet overlapping components: the structural
elements of collective violence and situated modernity on one side, and
the emotional elements of collective emotions and legitimating events on
the other. In the Turkish case, denial emerged through four stages: (i)
the initial imperial denial of the origins of the collective violence
committed against the Armenians commenced in 1789 and continued until
1907; (ii) the Young Turk denial of the act of violence lasted for a
decade from 1908 to 1918; (iii) early republican denial of the actors of
violence took place from 1919 to 1973; and (iv) the late republican
denial of the responsibility for the collective violence started in 1974
and continues today.
Denial of Violence develops a
novel theoretical, historical and methodological framework to
understanding what happened and why the denial of collective violence
against Armenians still persists within Turkish state and society.
Then in December we saw published a work by Thomas de Waal, Great Catastrophe: Armenians and Turks in the Shadow of Genocide (Oxford UP, 2014), 312pp. (This links to the Kindle version. The hardback is forthcoming in February.) About this book we are told:
The destruction of the Armenians of the Ottoman Empire in 1915-16 was
the greatest atrocity of World War I. Around one million Armenians were
killed, and the survivors were scattered across the world. Although it
is now a century old, the issue of what most of the world calls the
Armenian Genocide of 1915 is still a live and divisive issue that
mobilizes Armenians across the world, shapes the identity and politics
of modern Turkey, and has consumed the attention of U.S. politicians for
years.
In Great Catastrophe, the eminent scholar and
reporter Thomas de Waal looks at the aftermath and politics of the
Armenian Genocide and tells the story of recent efforts by courageous
Armenians, Kurds, and Turks to come to terms with the disaster as Turkey
enters a new post-Kemalist era. The story of what happened to the
Armenians in 1915-16 is well-known. Here we are told the "history of the
history" and the lesser-known story of what happened to Armenians,
Kurds, and Turks in the century that followed. De Waal relates how
different generations tackled the issue of the "Great Catastrophe" from
the 1920s until the failure of the Protocols signed by independent
Armenia and Turkey in 2010. Quarrels between diaspora Armenians
supporting and opposing the Soviet Union broke into violence and
culminated with the murder of an archbishop in 1933. The devising of the
word "genocide," the growth of modern identity politics, and the 50th
anniversary of the massacres re-energized a new generation of Armenians.
In Turkey the issue was initially forgotten, only to return to the
political agenda in the context of the Cold War and an outbreak of
Armenian terrorism. More recently, Turkey has started to confront its
taboos. In an astonishing revival of oral history, the descendants of
tens of thousands of "Islamized Armenians," who have been in the shadows
since 1915, have begun to reemerge and reclaim their identities.
Drawing
on archival sources, reportage and moving personal stories, de Waal
tells the full story of Armenian-Turkish relations since the Genocide in
all its extraordinary twists and turns. He looks behind the propaganda
to examine the realities of a terrible historical crime and the divisive
"politics of genocide" it produced. The book throws light not only on
our understanding of Armenian-Turkish relations but also of how mass
atrocities and historical tragedies shape contemporary politics.
Sacred Justice is a cross-genre book
that uses narrative, memoir, unpublished letters, and other primary and
secondary sources to tell the story of a group of Armenian men who
organized Operation Nemesis, a covert operation created to assassinate
the Turkish architects of the Armenian Genocide. The leaders of
Operation Nemesis took it upon themselves to seek justice for their
murdered families, friends, and compatriots.
This book includes a
large collection of previously unpublished letters that show the
strategies, personalities, plans, and dedication of Soghomon Tehlirian,
who killed Talaat Pasha, a genocide leader; Shahan Natalie, the agent on
the ground in Europe; Armen Garo, the center of Operation Nemesis;
Aaron Sachaklian, the logistics and finance officer; and others involved
with Nemesis.
The author tells a story that has been either
hidden by the necessity of silence or ignored in spite of victims’
narratives. This is the story of those who attempted to seek justice for
the victims and the effect this effort had on them and on their
families. The book shows how the narratives of resistance and trauma can
play out in the next generation and how resistance can promote
resilience. Little has been written about Operation Nemesis. As we
approach the centennial anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, it is
time.
The Armenian Genocide has often been
considered a template for subsequent genocides and is one of the first
genocides of the 20th century. As such, it holds crucial historical
significance, and it is critically important that today's students
understand this case study of inhumanity. This book provides a
much-needed, long-overdue reference volume on the Armenian Genocide. It
begins with seven introductory analytical essays that provide a broad
overview of the Armenian Genocide and then presents individual entries, a
historical timeline, and a selection of documents.
This
essential reference work covers all aspects of the Armenian Genocide,
including the causes, phases, and consequences. It explores political
and historical perspectives as well as the cultural aspects. The
carefully selected collection of perspective essays will inspire
critical thinking and provide readers with insight into some of the most
controversial and significant issues of the Armenian Genocide.
Similarly, the primary source documents are prefaced by thoughtful
introductions that will provide the necessary context to help students
understand the significance of the material.
Armenian Aram Haigaz was only 15 when he lost his father, brothers, many
relatives and neighbors, all killed or dead of starvation when enemy
soldiers surrounded their village. He and his mother were put into a
forced march and deportation of Armenians into the Turkish desert, part
of the systematic destruction of the largely Christian Armenian
population in 1915 by the Ottoman Empire. His mother urged Aram to
convert to Islam in order to survive, and on the fourth day of the
march, a Turk agreed to take this young convert into his household. Aram
spent four long years living as a slave, servant and shepherd among
Kurdish tribes, slowly gaining his captors’ trust. He grew from a boy to
a man in these years and his narrative offers readers a remarkable
coming of age story as well as a valuable eyewitness to history. Haigaz
was able to escape to the United States in 1921.
There are, I know, further books in the works so stay tuned on here for details of some of them.
The book examines deep shifts in the religious life of Russia
and the post-Soviet world as a whole. The author uses combined methods
of history, sociology and anthropology to grasp transformations in
various aspects of the religious field, such as changes in ritual
practices, the emergence of a hierarchical pluralism of religions, and a
new prominence of religion in national identity discourse. He deals
with the Russian Church’s new internal diversity in reinventing its
ancient tradition and Eastern Orthodoxy’s dense and tense negotiation
with the State, secular society and Western liberal globalism. The
volume contains academic papers, some of them co-authored with other
scholars, published by the author elsewhere within the last fifteen
years.
Contents: Russian Orthodox Church – Eastern Christianity –
National identity – Religious practices – Religion and human rights –
Church-State relations – Post-Soviet religiosity – Globalization,
religious pluralism – Traditional and liberal values. Further details may be had here.
In my survey class on Eastern Christian encounters with Islam, I make a point of looking at Russia in some depth--though usually only from 1917 onward--because the encounters between Orthodox Christians and Muslims throughout the former USSR and in the current Russian Federation are of course very different from the encounters in such places as Armenia, Turkey, Syria, and Egypt. Now we have a new book to look at the pre-Soviet imperial period and the fate of non-Orthodox within the tsarist empire: Paul Werth, The Tsar's Foreign Faiths: Toleration and the Fate of Religious Freedom in Imperial Russia (Oxford UP, 2014), 304pp.
About this book we are told:
The Russian Empire presented itself to its subjects and the world as an Orthodox state, a patron and defender of Eastern Christianity. Yet the tsarist regime also lauded itself for granting religious freedoms to its many heterodox subjects, making 'religious toleration' a core attribute of the state's identity. The Tsar's Foreign Faiths shows that the resulting tensions between the autocracy's commitments to Orthodoxy and its claims to toleration became a defining feature of the empire's religious order.
In this panoramic account, Paul W. Werth explores the scope and character of religious freedom for Russia's diverse non-Orthodox religions, from Lutheranism and Catholicism to Islam and Buddhism. Considering both rhetoric and practice, he examines discourses of religious toleration and the role of confessional institutions in the empire's governance. He reveals the paradoxical status of Russia's heterodox faiths as both established and 'foreign', and explains the dynamics that shaped the fate of newer conceptions of religious liberty after the mid-nineteenth century. If intellectual change and the shifting character of religious life in Russia gradually pushed the regime towards the acceptance of freedom of conscience, then statesmen's nationalist sentiments and their fears of 'politicized' religion impeded this development. Russia's religious order thus remained beset by contradiction on the eve of the Great War. Based on archival research in five countries and a vast scholarly literature, The Tsar's Foreign Faiths represents a major contribution to the history of empire and religion in Russia, and to the study of toleration and religious diversity in Europe.
One of the interesting developments in the last three decades has been that of evangelicals "discovering" the Christian East. There are a number of books--of varying quality, accuracy, and therefore reliability--from evangelicals documenting these discoveries, including James R. Payton's Light from the Christian East: An Introduction to the Orthodox Tradition, which I reviewed elsewhere (largely favorably) several years ago.
Now a new book comes along, asking how "Bible-believing" Christians are to read and understand competing truth-claims in the Quran. And the author, quite sensibly, realizes that in a book being published in 2015, evangelical Christians should not be beginning from scratch when it comes to Quaranic exegesis and dealing with competing claims. Rather, there is a 1400-year history of Eastern Christians engaging Islam, and that history and those engagements remain hugely valuable today: J. Scott Bridger, Christian Exegesis of the Qur'an: A Critical Analysis of the Apologetic Use of the Qur'an in Select Medieval and Contemporary Arabic Texts (Pickwick, 2015), 200pp.
About this book we are told:
Can Christians read biblical meaning into quranic texts? Does this
violate the intent of those passages? What about making positive
reference to the Quran in the context of an evangelistic presentation or
defense of biblical doctrines? Does this imply that Christians accept
the Muslim scripture as inspired? What about Christians who reside in
the world of Islam and write their theology in the language of the
Quran-Arabic? Is it legitimate for them to use the Quran in their
explanations of the Christian faith? This book explores these questions
and offers a biblically, theologically, and historically informed
response. For years evangelical Christians seeking answers to questions
like these have turned to the history of Protestant Christian
interaction with Muslim peoples. Few are aware of the cultural,
intellectual, and theological achievements of Middle Eastern Christians
who have resided in the world of Islam for fourteen centuries. Their
works are a treasure-trove of riches for those investigating
contemporary theological and missiological questions such as the
apologetic use of the Quran.
Two years ago now I reviewed an utterly fascinating book about Christians and Muslims in Anatolia. I am thus looking forward to another book on the topic to be released later this month: A.C.S. Peacock et al, eds., Islam and Christianity in Medieval Anatolia (Ashgate, 2015), 444pp.
About this book we are told:
Islam and Christianity in Medieval Anatolia offers a comparative
approach to understanding the spread of Islam and Muslim culture in
medieval Anatolia. It aims to reassess work in the field since the 1971
classic by Speros Vryonis, The Decline of Hellenism in Asia Minor and
the Process of Islamization which treats the process of transformation
from a Byzantinist perspective. Since then, research has offered
insights into individual aspects of Christian-Muslim relations, but no
overview has appeared. Moreover, very few scholars of Islamic studies
have examined the problem, meaning evidence in Arabic, Persian and
Turkish has been somewhat neglected at the expense of Christian sources,
and too little attention has been given to material culture. The essays
in this volume examine the interaction between Christianity and Islam
in medieval Anatolia through three distinct angles, opening with a
substantial introduction by the editors to explain both the research
background and the historical problem, making the work accessible to
scholars from other fields. The first group of essays examines the
Christian experience of living under Muslim rule, comparing their
experiences in several of the major Islamic states of Anatolia between
the eleventh and fifteenth centuries, especially the Seljuks and the
Ottomans. The second set of essays examines encounters between
Christianity and Islam in art and intellectual life. They highlight the
ways in which some traditions were shared across confessional divides,
suggesting the existence of a common artistic and hence cultural
vocabulary. The final section focusses on the process of Islamisation,
above all as seen from the Arabic, Persian and Turkish textual evidence
with special attention to the role of Sufism.
Who are the Assyrians and what role did they play in shaping modern
Iraq? Were they simply bystanders, victims of collateral damage who
played a passive role in the history of Iraq? Furthermore, how have they
negotiated their position throughout various periods of Iraq's
state-building processes? This book details a narrative of Iraq in the
twentieth century and refashions the Assyrian experience as an integral
part of Iraq's broader contemporary historiography. It is the first
comprehensive account to contextualise a native experience alongside the
emerging state. Using primary and secondary data, this book offers a
nuanced exploration of the dynamics that have affected and determined
the trajectory of the Assyrians' experience in twentieth century Iraq.
The Orthodox writer Jim Forest reminded me on Facebook that today is the 70th anniversary of the death of Mother Maria Skobtsova. (An excellent collection of resources about her may be found on the In Communion website.) Killed in the Ravensbrück concentration camp as the war in Europe was almost over, she was canonized by the Ecumenical Patriarchate in 2004.
I was thinking about her extraordinary and staggering life again last week as I was finishing up what I hope to be the final edits to one of my forthcoming books (more on that later), a collection of papers from the Huffington Ecumenical Institute's 2012 symposium on Orthodoxy and the local Church in North America. One of the contributors, Fr. Justin Mathews, a priest of the OCA and founder of FOCUS, was discussing how inspirational Mother Maria's life was for those who, like him, have been working with the poor on the streets of North America--just as she worked with the poor, with Russian refugees, and with Jews hiding from the Nazis, on the streets of Paris. A political radical who may have wanted to see Trotsky assassinated, she was divorced twice, and in these and many other ways was nobody's idea of a nun, still less a "saint." And yet, as we contemplate this week the sacrificial self-offering of One on behalf of many, we see clearly that she too offered her life as a holy oblation outside the city in witness to Christ and in defense of His people--and long before that had served those people with a radical hospitality that many of us still need to learn.
I recently attended a colloquium with Judge Michael Talbot, chief justice of the Michigan Court of Appeals and also the chairman of the Review Board for the Archdiocese of Detroit. He gave utterly fascinating insights into how, as a civil lawyer in private practice and then a judge in Michigan for decades, he had to learn a radically different legal culture when he entered the world of canon law and began dealing with ecclesiastical organs and tribunals attempting to root out clerical sexual abuse. The differences he discussed were very considerable--sometimes a cause for wonder, sometimes a cause for despair. But fascinating nonetheless.
In our discussion, I raised with him some of the early canons about clerical abuses, and their complete intolerance for any of this activity (even consensual activity). He noted that unlike Anglo-American law, canon law does not have a healthy doctrine of stare decesis and thus legal precedent does not carry the same weight. As a result, earlier canons can safely be ignored. As I was reflecting on this, it occurred to me that this may well be because canon law is concerned above all with the salvation of souls, and thus there are substantial theological reasons behind this different legal culture.
But this is not to say that precedent is irrelevant, or past canons carry no weight. No Eastern Christian would say that. But what weight should they have? Which canons are still important today, and which can safely be left behind? A new book, set for release this summer, will help us grapple anew with old canons still of enormous relevance to Orthodox-Catholic relations and the vexed question of the papacy. Did the papacy ever function as an "appellate court" as it were in the early Church, hearing cases from patriarchates and dioceses unable to resolve them independently? That question has long needed more consideration, and in Christopher Stephens, Canon Law and Episcopal Authority: The Canons of Antioch and Serdica (Oxford, 2015) it should at long last get it.
About this book we are told:
Christopher Stephens focuses on canon law as the starting point for a
new interpretation of divisions between East and West in the Church
after the death of Constantine the Great. He challenges the common
assumption that bishops split between "Nicenes" and "non-Nicenes,"
"Arians" or "Eusebians." Instead, he argues that questions of doctrine
took second place to disputes about the status of individual bishops and
broader issues of the role of ecclesiastical councils, the nature of
episcopal authority, and in particular the supremacy of the bishop of
Rome.
Canon law allows the author to offer a fresh understanding
of the purposes of councils in the East after 337, particularly the
famed Dedication Council of 341 and the western meeting of the council
of
Serdica and the canon law written there, which elevated the bishop of
Rome to an authority above all other bishops. Investigating the laws
they wrote, the author describes the power struggles taking place in the
years following 337 as bishops sought to elevate their status and grasp
the opportunity for the absolute form of leadership Constantine had
embodied.
Combining a close study of the laws and events of this
period with broader reflections on the nature of power and authority in
the Church and the increasingly important role of canon law, the book
offers a fresh narrative of one of the most significant periods in the
development of the Church as an institution and of the bishop as a
leader.
Introduction Part One: The Canons of Antioch
1. The Canons of Antioch and the Dedication Council
2. The Canons of Antioch in Context Part Two: Antioch and Serdica
3. The Dedication Council
4. Serdica, Rome, and the Response to Antioch
Part Three: Canon Law and Episcopal Authority
5. Law, Authority, and Power
6. Constantine, Control and Canon Law
At the end of February, I was at Baylor University at the Wilken Colloquium, devoted this year to the theme of eschatology. One of the speakers was the Reformed theologian J. Todd Billings, who gave a memorably moving presentation based on his new book, which is itself based on his life as a young man given a diagnosis of incurable cancer: Rejoicing in Lament: Wrestling with Incurable Cancer and Life in Christ (Brazos, 2015). In the discussion afterwards he noted that we still have not seen enough theological reflection on what it is like, and what it means, to live with a chronic condition, a major handicap, or a terminal diagnosis. I thought at the time of a recently published book, Discovering Trinity in Disability: A Theology for Embracing Difference (Orbis 2013), 144pp.
Dionysius the Areopagite exercised immense influence on medieval
theology. This study considers various ways in which his doctrine of
union with God in darkness marked the early Albert the Great and his
student Thomas Aquinas. The Mystery of Union with God considers a broad
range of themes in the early Albert's corpus and in Thomas that underlie
their mystical theologies and may bear traces of Dionysian influence.
These themes include the divine missions, anthropology, the virtues of
faith and charity, primary and secondary causality, divine naming, and
eschatology. The heart of this work offers detailed exegesis of key
union passages in Albert's commentaries on Dionysius, Thomas's
Commentary on the Divine Names, and the Summa Theologiae questions on
Spirit's gifts of understanding and wisdom. The Mystery of Union with
God offers the most extensive, systematic analysis to date of how Albert
and Thomas interpreted and transformed the Dionysian Moses "who knows
God by unknowing." It shows Albert's and Thomas's philosophical and
theological motives to place limits on Dionysian apophatism and to
reintegrate mediated knowledge into mystical knowing. The author
surfaces many similarities in the two Dominicans' mystical doctrines and
exegesis of Dionysius. This work prepares the way for a new
consideration of Albert the Great as the father of Rhineland Mysticism.
The original presentation of Aquinas's theology of the Spirit's seven
gifts breaks new ground in theological scholarship. Finally, the entire
book lays out a model for the study of mystical theology from a
historical, philosophical and doctrinal perspective.
One of the loveliest aspects of the Great Fast in which we are all immersed currently is that it affords us the daily opportunity of reciting the prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian, that great father of Syriac Christianity, which Sebastian Brock has called the "third lung" of Christianity. Much in the Syriac tradition remains unknown and inaccessible, but gradually over the years we have been seeing a steady increase in good scholarly studies and translations, including this forthcoming volume set for release in mid-April: Ephraim the Syrian, The Hymns on Faith, trans. Jeffrey Wicks (Catholic University of America Press, 2015), 440pp.
Published in the highly respected "Fathers of the Church" series (book 130) of CUA Press, this book, the publisher tells us, will introduce us to:
Ephrem the Syrian, who was born in Nisibis (Nusaybin, Turkey) around 306
CE, and died in Edessa (Sanliurfa, Turkey) in 373. He was a prolific
author, composing over four hundred hymns, several metrical homilies,
and at least two scriptural commentaries. His extensive literary output
warrants mention alongside other well-known fourth-century authors,
such as Gregory of Nazianzus and Basil of Caesarea. Yet Ephrem wrote in
neither Greek nor Latin, but in Syriac, a dialect of Aramaic. His voice
opens to the reader a fourth-century Christian world perched on the
margins between the Roman and Persian Empires.
Ephrem is known for a theology that relies heavily on symbol and for a
keen awareness of Jewish exegetical traditions. Yet he is also our
earliest source for the reception of Nicaea among Syriac-speaking
Christians. It is in his eighty-seven Hymns on Faith - the
longest extant piece of early Syriac literature - that he develops his
arguments against subordinationist christologies most fully. These
hymns, most likely delivered orally and compiled after the author's
death, were composed in Nisibis and Edessa between the 350s ans 373.
They reveal an author conversant with Christological debates further to
the west, but responding in a uniquely Syriac idiom. As such, they form
an essential source for reconstructing the development of pro-Nicene
thought in the eastern Mediterranean.
Yet, the Hymns on Faith off er far more than a simple
Syriacpro-Nicene catechetical literature. In these hymns Ephrem reflects
upon the mystery of God and the limits of human knowledge. He
demonstrates a sophisticated grasp of symbol and metaphor and their role
in human understanding.
The Hymns on Faith are translated here for the first time in English
on the basis of Edmund Beck's critical edition.
The first Christians to encounter Islam were
not Latin-speakers from the western Mediterranean or Greek-speakers from
Constantinople but Mesopotamian Christians who spoke the Aramaic
dialect of Syriac. Under Muslim rule from the seventh century onward,
Syriac Christians wrote the most extensive descriptions extant of early
Islam. Seldom translated and often omitted from modern historical
reconstructions, this vast body of texts reveals a complicated and
evolving range of religious and cultural exchanges that took place from
the seventh to the ninth century.
The first book-length analysis of these earliest encounters, Envisioning Islam
highlights the ways these neglected texts challenge the modern
scholarly narrative of early Muslim conquests, rulers, and religious
practice. Examining Syriac sources including letters, theological
tracts, scientific treatises, and histories, Michael Philip Penn reveals
a culture of substantial interreligious interaction in which the
categorical boundaries between Christianity and Islam were more
ambiguous than distinct. The diversity of ancient Syriac images of
Islam, he demonstrates, revolutionizes our understanding of the early
Islamic world and challenges widespread cultural assumptions about the
history of exclusively hostile Christian-Muslim relations.
The news has been circulating for more than a week that the Orthodox presbyter and theologian Thomas Hopko is in his last days. I met him briefly once in 2008 at the Sheptytsky Institute's "Study Days" that summer. It was there, I think, that I first heard his "55 Maxims of the Christian Life." It was there that I came to admire him as a plain-spoken, pull-no-punches type of man who clearly had no patience for obfuscation and nonsense. He was faithful to Orthodoxy and in doing so was unwilling to trim his sails because of political pressure to "make nice" to others. Those traits were on display in his book Speaking The Truth In Love: Education, Mission, And Witness In Contemporary Orthodoxy.
I have not always agreed with Hopko, as I note in my Orthodoxy and the Roman Papacy: Ut Unum Sint and the Prospects of East-West Unity. There I noted that on at least one occasion his spare style and restrained rhetoric seem to have been abandoned in favor of an absurdly inflationary list of things he wanted changed in the Roman Catholic Church. In his talk "Roman Presidency and Christian Unity in our Time," Hopko went on at length about dozens of issues that nobody else on the Orthodox side was writing or worrying about--nobody, that is, who was as intellectually serious as Hopko otherwise is. Moreover, as I argued, Hopko attributed--with enormous irony!--a massive power to the pope that (a) the pope has never had and today does not have; and (b) that the Orthodox would be the first to object to his having in the first place! I wrote off the paper as rather a fluke, and of the more than twenty Orthodox thinkers I reviewed in my book, demonstrated just how sui generis Hopko's list was. We all have bad days and bad ideas sometimes make it into print. This list did not affect my view that Hopko remains a serious and sober thinker.
But Hopko has produced other important books. Friends at Christmas several years ago gave Christ in the Old Testament: Prophecy Illustrated to my sons, and it is a charming and beautifully illustrated book thanks to the artistic talents of Niko Chocheli.
Several years ago now when I was trying to write a book on the importance of a clearly defined theology of sexual differentiation--the real issue underlying the push for the ordination of women and the recognition of same-sex "marriage"--I found Hopko's edited collection Women and the Priesthood very prescient in his claim that
The question of women and the priesthood is but one
important instance of what I perceive to be the most critical issue of our
time: the issue of the meaning and purpose of the fact that human nature exists
in two consubstantial forms: male and female. This is a new issue for
Christians; it has not been treated properly in the past. But it cannot be
avoided today.
Hopko went on to quote an even stronger formulation from (of all people) Luce Irigaray, who wrote that “Sexual difference is one of the major philosophical
issues, if not the issue, of our age. … Sexual difference is probably the issue
of our time which could be our ‘salvation’ if we thought it through." Such "thinking through" still awaits us, and I hope to finish an article on it perhaps late this summer.
As he prepares to "shuffle off this mortal coil" and stand before the "awesome tribunal of Christ," we can pray that because of these books and the rest of his life's work, he will hear the "Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter into the joy of your Lord" that we all long to hear on that day.
As I have repeatedly noted on here, there is much we still need to learn, or in some cases re-learn, about the encounters, varied and various according to time and place, between Eastern Christians and Muslims. That is as true for two neighbors encountering one another across the Anatolian plateau as it is for leaders at the highest levels of Church and empire. We need, moreover, to deepen our understanding of Church-state relations in the East if only so that we can finally move beyond tired stereotypes of "caseropapism" and other slogans. A book set for release early next month should shed welcome light here: Tom Papademetriou,Render unto the Sultan: Power, Authority, and the Greek Orthodox Church in the Early Ottoman Centuries (Oxford UP, 2015), 288pp.
About this book we are told:
The received wisdom about the nature of the Greek Orthodox Church in the
Ottoman Empire is that Sultan Mehmed II reestablished the Patriarchate
of Constantinople as both a political and a religious authority to
govern the post-Byzantine Greek community. However, relations between
the Church hierarchy and Turkish masters extend further back in history,
and closer scrutiny of these relations reveals that the Church
hierarchy in Anatolia had long experience dealing with Turkish emirs by
focusing on economic arrangements. Decried as scandalous, these
arrangements became the modus vivendi for bishops in the Turkish
emirates.
Primarily concerned with the economic arrangements
between the Ottoman state and the institution of the Greek Orthodox
Church from the mid-fifteenth to the sixteenth century, Render Unto the Sultan argues that the Ottoman state considered the Greek Orthodox ecclesiastical hierarchy primarily as tax farmers (mültezim)
for cash income derived from the church's widespread holdings. The
Ottoman state granted individuals the right to take their positions as
hierarchs in return for yearly payments to the state. Relying on
members of the Greek economic elite (archons) to purchase the ecclesiastical tax farm (iltizam),
hierarchical positions became subject to the same forces of competition
that other Ottoman administrative offices faced. This led to colorful
episodes and multiple challenges
to ecclesiastical authority throughout Ottoman lands.
Tom
Papademetriou demonstrates that minority communities and institutions in
the Ottoman Empire, up to now, have been considered either from within
the community, or from outside, from the Ottoman perspective. This new
approach allows us to consider internal Greek Orthodox communal
concerns, but from within the larger Ottoman social and economic
context.
Render Unto the Sultan challenges the long
established concept of the 'Millet System', the historical model in
which the religious leader served both a civil as well as a religious
authority. From the Ottoman state's perspective, the hierarchy was there
to serve the religious and economic function rather than the political
one.