The Nile

It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands,
Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream,
And times and things, as in that vision, seem
Keeping along it their eternal stands,—
Caves, pillars, pyramids, the shepherd bands
That roamed through the young world, the glory extreme
Of high Sesostris, and that southern beam,
The laughing queen that caught the world’s great hands.

Then comes a mightier silence, stern and strong,
As of a world left empty of its throng,
And the void weighs on us; and then we wake,
And hear the fruitful stream lapsing along
‘Twixt villages, and think how we shall take
Our own calm journey on for human sake.

Leigh Hunt, 1818

Bethsaida: town or village?

Expanded from my notes on Rami Arav, “Bethsaida,” pp 145–166 in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Eerdmans, 2006).

From pp 148–149:

Four years after [Bethsaida’s] foundation, Philip, the founder of the city, died at Bethsaida and was buried in a costly burial; unfortunately, Josephus, our source of information, does not indicate where Philip was buried. Thirty-five years after this event, the city witnessed clashes between Jewish rebels led by Josephus and the Roman mercenaries of Agrippa II. As a result of this episode the city was partly deserted and ruined (Josephus, Vita 71, 72). It is important to mention in this context that Mk 8:23 preserves the tradition of Bethsaida as being a village (kōmē) and not a town (polis). Luke refers to Bethsaida as a polis (Lk 9:10), and it seems that he was not careful in his definition of the place. Bethsaida as a town named Julias did not exist for more than a few years.

Arav’s conclusion may also be seen as somewhat backwards. Both Gospels could be correct for the times in which they were written, if the kōmē and polis usage is indicative. That is, there is a more logical solution. Bethsaida was the polis Julias from either the late first century BC or some point early in the first century AD (see below) until a point during the Great Revolt of the Jews against Rome, between the years of 30 to 68 AD, according to Arav, taking his “thirty-five years” inclusively, as 69 AD is certainly too late (see below). It is thus most likely that the Gospel According to Luke was written during that time, when the place was known as such. Indeed, if the ending of the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, the volume following on the Gospel, is any indicator of its date, then it must have been written in 62 AD. This fits the usage. Likewise then, the Gospel of Mark must date to a period either before or after Bethsaida was known as the polis Julias, and was just a kōmē. To date Mark before 30 AD is patently absurd, as the Gospel itself includes events that are generally recognized as occurring later. Taking into account the above evidence regarding Luke, to date Mark after 68 AD supports the Griesbach or Two Gospel Hypothesis regarding the production of the Synoptic Gospels, which posits Mark as a later conflation of both Matthew and Luke. To claim otherwise complicates the issue, requiring us to believe that Mark is somehow more correct than Luke, as Arav seems to imply, though the former imposes the anachronistic label of kōmē on Bethsaida during the ministry of Jesus in preference for the status of the place in the author’s time, and the latter correctly depicts it as a polis during Jesus’ ministry. Issue appears be taken with this evidence in Luke, however, for not toeing the party line: not correctly indicating the status of Bethsaida in light of the typically much later date proposed for the writing of Luke in the Two Source Hypothesis (Mark first, Matthew and Luke later drawing on Mark, Q, and other traditions). And yet, Luke could easily have been written during the time when Bethsaida-Julias was a polis, while Mark could just as easily have been written when it was a kōmē, which is the most logical, least complicated, and patently clear explanation of this piece of evidence.

Of course, the above approach requires us to accept as given that each author can only have described Bethsaida using the proper term (kōmē or polis) that applied to the place during the author’s time, rather than the time indicated in the narrative, which is the period of Jesus’ ministry. This approach fails to take into account the evidence found in the Gospel According to John (1.44), where Bethsaida is called “the city (πολεως) of Andrew and Peter.” John is universally recognized to be the latest written among the canonical Gospels, dating to the last decade of the first century AD, when Bethsaida was most decidedly no longer a polis.

A further issue is in regards to the date used by Arav of 30 AD for the establishment of Julias as a polis, and of 68 AD for its demo(li)tion. These are far from certain. Josephus does not give a specific date for the founding of Julias at Bethsaida, but perhaps implies that it was soon after Tiberius became Emperor, in 14 AD (War 2.168), that Philip acted to honor Tiberius’ mother Livia (as some would correct Josephus; see Ant 18.27–28), known as Julia only from that point forward, when she received membership in the gens Iulia by bequest of Augustus. Arav sets the date in 30 AD, soon after the death of Julia, with the foundation of Julias and its temple being simultaneous and intended to reap the benefits of worship of the Imperial family. This is certainly possible, even plausible, though the equation of temple and city is nowhere stated in Josephus. It is necessary, too, to recall that Josephus states that Julias was named after “Caesar’s daughter” (Ant 18.28) this being Julia, daughter of Tiberius and mother of Gaius (Caligula), who fell from favor in 2 BC. Unless we unwisely wish to posit an error on the part of Josephus, this little bit of evidence indicates that Philip founded Julias almost immediately upon recieving his tetrarchy in 4 BC. This is the closest to a precise indicator that Josephus gives for the foundation of Julias, as the other mentions of the founding of the city appear in simplified lists of Philip’s accomplishments. The date for the demotion (nowhere explicitly stated, either) is likewise up in the air, with our only indication being that it is after the first year of the War, obviously, as Josephus is a general, and before the end of the War in 70 AD. The only indication of the timing of its capture by Placidus (War 4.438) is that it is described just prior to Vespasian hearing of the revolt of Vindex against Nero (War 4.440), which occurred in late 67 or early 68, and Nero’s death, which occurred 9 June 68, is related further on (War 4.491). Clearly, 68 AD is the most likely date for the capture of Bethsaida-Julias, and the de facto (de jure?) end of its existence as a polis.

Perhaps Arav’s ongoing excavations of Bethsaida-Julias will eventually clarify the date of its promotion by Philip. For now, all of the above is rather, I think, indicative of the murky and imprecise nature of the intersection of text and trowel. At least, it is not as exact as we would like it to be, with too much vagueness lying in the realms of both. But I want to thank Dr Arav for his fascinating work and his obviously thought-provoking article. I very much look forward to reading more on the work of the Bethsaida excavations, a site which previsously held no interest for me, but which Arav’s article has made much more interesting, particularly the discussion of the Iron Age findings.

His bitter tears

Near Rome, in sight of St Peter’s

Long has the dew been dried on tree and lawn;
O’er man and beast a not unwelcome boon
Is shed, the languor of approaching noon;
To shady rest withdrawing or withdrawn
Mute are all creatures, as this couchant fawn,
Save insect-swarms that hum in air afloat,
Save that the Cock is crowing, a shrill note,
Startling and shrill as that which roused the dawn.
—Heard in that hour, or when, as now, the nerve
Shrinks from the note as from a mistimed thing,
Oft for a holy warning may it serve,
Charged with remembrance of his sudden sting,
His bitter tears, whose name the Papal Chair
And yon resplendent Church are proud to bear.

William Wordsworth
Memorials of a Tour in Italy, 1837, § VIII

The Lotus Eaters

Ulysses to Penelope

In a far distant land they dwell,
     Incomprehensible,
     Who love the shadow more than light,
     More than the sun the moon,
     Cool evening more than noon,
Pale silver more than gold that glitters bright,
     A dark cloud overhangs their land
          Like a mighty hand,
     Never moving from above it ;
     A cool shade and moist and dim,
     With a twilight purple rim,
          And they love it.
     And sometimes it giveth rain,
       But soon it ceaseth as before,
     And earth drieth up again,—
       Then the dews rise more and more,
       Till it filleth, dropping o’er ;
     But no forked lightnings flit,
     And no thunders roll in it.
     Through the land a river flows,
     With a sleepy sound it goes :
       Such a drowsy noise, in sooth,
          Those who will not listen hear not :
          But, if one is wakeful, fear not—
     It shall lull him to repose,
       Bringing back the dreams of youth.
     Hemlock groweth, poppy bloweth,
     In the fields where no man moweth :
     And the vine is full of wine
     And are full of milk the kine,
     And the hares are all secure,
     And the birds are wild no more,
     And the forest-trees wax old,
     And winds stir, or hot or cold,—
     And yet no man taketh care,
     All things resting everywhere.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
7 October 1847

On the Study of Theology

Why Doe Young Lay-Men So Much Studie Divinity?

Is it because others tending busily Churches preferment neglect studie? Or had the Church of Rome shut up all our wayes till the Lutherans broke down their uttermost stubborned dores, and the Calvinists picked their inwardest and subtlest lockes? Surely the Divell cannot bee such a Foole to hope that hee shall make this study contemptible, by making it common. Nor that as the Dwellers by the river Origus are said (by drawing infinite ditches to sprinckle their barren Countrey) to have exhausted and intercepted their maine channell, and so lost their more profitable course to the Sea; so wee, by providing every ones selfe, divinity enough for his owne use, should neglect our Teachers and Fathers. Hee cannot hope for better heresies than he hath had, nor was his Kingdome ever so much advanced by debating Religion (though with some aspersions of Error) as by a Dull and stupid security, in which many grosse things are swallowed. Possible out of such an Ambition as we have now, to speake plainely and fellow-like with Lords and Kings, wee thinke also to acquaint our selves with Gods secrets: Or perchance when wee study it by mingling humane respects, It is not Divinity.

John Donne
Probleme 5 from Juvenilia: Or Certaine Paradoxes, And Problemes, 1633

Some hopefully helpful notes:
preferment: appointment to a salaried position
stubborned: hard; difficult to move
…Origus…: Perhaps Oricus, a city in Greece? This is a cautionary tale of unknown origin (to me, at least, and Google doesn’t help), though it’s vaguely familiar: a city situated on a river with barren fields digs so many canals for irrigation (ostensibly to improve the agricultural yield and thereby the city’s economic situation) that the river downstream is no longer navigable and the city loses its more profitable sea trade.
divinity: theology

The Silencing of the Oracles

Now moderation, adequacy, excess in nothing, and complete self-sufficiency are above all else the essential characteristics of everything done by the gods; and if anyone should take this fact as a starting-point, and assert that Greece has far more than its share in the general depopulation which the earlier discords and wars have wrought throughout practically the whole inhabited earth, and that to-day the whole of Greece would hardly muster three thousand men-at-arms, which is the number that the one city of the Megarians sent forth to Plataeae (for the god’s abandoning of many oracles is nothing other than his way of substantiating the desolation of Greece), in this way such a man would give some accurate evidence of his keenness in reasoning. For who would profit if there were an oracle in Tegyrae, as there used to be, or at Ptoüm, where during some part of the day one might possibly meet a human being pasturing his flocks? And regarding the oracle here at Delphi, the most ancient in time and the most famous in repute, men record that for a long time it was made desolate and unapproachable by a fierce creature, a serpent; they do not, however, put the correct interpretation upon its lying idle, but quite the reverse; for it was the desolation that attracted the creature rather than that the creature caused the desolation. But when Greece, since God so willed, had grown strong in cities and the place was thronged with people, they used to employ two prophetic priestesses who were sent down in turn; and a third was appointed to be held in reserve. But to-day there is one priestess and we do not complain, for she meets every need. There is no reason, therefore, to blame the god; the exercise of the prophetic art which continues at the present day is sufficient for all, and sends away all with their desires fulfilled. Agammemnon, for example, used nine heralds and, even so, had difficulty in keeping the assembly in order because of the vast numbers; but here in Delphi, a few days hence, in the theatre you will see that one voice reaches all. In the same way, in those days, prophecy employed more voices to speak to more people, but to-day, quite the reverse, we should needs be surprised at the god if he allowed his prophecies to run to waste, like water, or to echo like the rocks with the voices of shepherds and flocks in waste places.

Plutarch, The Obsolescence of Oracles, 413F-414C
Translation by Frank Cole Babbitt, LCL 306

The above is the core of Plutarch’s explanation for the various oracles of the Greek world having fallen silent in the late first and early second centuries AD: there weren’t enough people for them to be necessary. In a way, he may be right, in that votive donations will have steeply declined in the drastic depopulation in the Greek territories. Of course, this was also the time of the explosive growth of Christianity in precisely those territories, a development that Plutarch never mentions, but which certainly played a role in redirecting worship and funding. Further affecting the situation would be the elimination of the city-state democracies, and thereby the Amphictyonic League which supported Delphi, particularly with the advent of the Roman Principate. That is, with the possibility of patronage being limited by the Emperor and a small elite controlling the economy, Delphi and other formerly prestigious sites will have vied for the attention of the few funds available, with the bigger names winning out. Everyone knew Delphi and Dodona, but who in Rome knew Tegyrae or Ptoüm? Most likely, a combination of all of the above-mentioned points was responsible for the silencing of the oracles.

Even Delphi went silent in the late fourth century with the closing of pagan temples by Emperor Theodosius. This was, in a sense, a very real triumph of the Nazarene over the Delian.

Brimfull of the friendliness

Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there
   Among the bushes half leafless, and dry ;
   The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.
Yet feel I little of the cold bleak air,
   Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
   Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home’s pleasant lair :
For I am brimfull of the friendliness
   That in a little cottage I have found ;
Of fair-hair’d Milton’s eloquent distress,
   And all his love for gentle Lycid drown’d ;
Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
   And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown’d.

John Keats, 1817

Goodies from The Biblical Canon

Below are some particularly striking excerpts from Lee Martin McDonald’s book, The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and Authority (Hendrickson, 2007). I thought others might find them stimulating, too.

Just because a text was cited by a well-known church father, one cannot assume that the writing was a part of either his or others’ biblical canon. This was often misunderstood even in antiquity. Every citation or quote must be evaluated on its own merit before being added to someone’s biblical canon.
(page 29)

Evidence that the Prophets had not yet moved into a fixed-canon category by the late third century B.C.E. is seen in the translation of the LXX (ca. 280-250 B.C.E.), when the Law alone was translated into Greek. Had other OT writings been accepted as inviolable Scripture at that time, it seems likely that they too would have been part of that translation project. Later (ca. 150-130 B.C.E.), the Prophets circulated in a somewhat loose collection of Scriptures, as the prologue to Sirach suggests; and the Writings were circulating in a looser form until someone later in the second or first century B.C.E., when they are other religious texts were translated into Greek and added to the LXX.
(page 35)

In an old but still important contribution to canonical studies, Reuss (1891) claims correctly that the question of the biblical canon depends on a theory of inspiration that simply was not present or even an issue for the apostles and their immediate disciples.
(page 110)

De Jonge is certainly correct when he claims that “because Christians were convinced of the continuity in God’s revelation through the great figures of the ‘Old Testament” and through Jesus Christ and his apostles, the distinction between ‘Jewish’ and ‘Christian’ was for them only of relative importance.”
(page 146)

The Apostolic Fathers, the closest Christian writings to the time of the NT, quote, refer, or allude to 2 Maccabees, Judith, Tobit, Sirach, Wisdom of Solomon, 2 Esdras, and 1 Enoch—but not to the canonical books of Ruth, Ezra, Nehemiah, Lamentations, Obadiah, Micah, or Haggai. This is important information for those who argue that Jesus’ canon could not have included the Apocrypha since he does not cite this literature. Does this argument also extend to the flip side and claim that Jesus did not accept Judges, Ezra, Nehemiah, Lamentation, Obadiah, Micah, or Haggai since he did not cite or quote them? Since the second-century churches were informed by more than the current Protestant OT canonical literature, this reaises the question whether today’s church should reconsider what literature informs its faith and witness.
(page 221)

Again, Irenaeus’s primary concern was to defend the Christian message, which was his “canon,” and he limited this message to the apostolic tradition resident in the church, which in turn was limited to (i.e., found in only) the primary literature of the second-century church (i.e., four NT Gospels and an imprecise collection of Paul’s Letters). . . . For Irenaeus, the apostolic witness was the primary determining principle for the recognition of the authority of the NT Scriptures (Haer. 3.2.2). He did not limit the succession of the apostolic witness, however, to the bishops at Rome alone (Haer. 3.3.2).
(page 297)

Failure to mention an ancient source does not necessarily mean this source was either unknown of not viewed as authoritative by Irenaeus.
(page 301)

This implies that the standard applied to pseudepigraphy was orthodoxy. If a particular writing fit theologically with what was acceptable to a particular Christian community, then the writing itself was acceptable, even though someone other than the author listed may have written it.
(page 347)

“While it is true that the Biblical authors were inspired by God, this does not mean that inspiration is a criterion of canonicity. A writing is not canonical because its author was inspired, but rather an author is considered to be inspired because what he has written is recognized as canonical, that is, is recognized as authoritative.” Inspiration was not a criterion by which a NT book was given the status of Scripture and later placed into a fixed biblical canon, but rather a corollary to its recognized status.
(page 420)

To make haste slowly

Diligent, and intelligent. Diligence quickly accomplishes what the intelligence has well thought out. Haste is the passion of fools, and as they know not the difficulties, they work without heed: wiser men, on the other hand, are likely to fail from over-caution; for of reflection is bred delay: and so their hesitation in acting loses them the fruits of their good judgment. Promptitude is the mother of fortune. He does much who leaves nothing for tomorrow. A magnificent motto: to make haste slowly.

Gracian’s Manual, § 53.

Canon(s) or Canonical?

Terminology related to the canon of the Bible’s books is rife with confusion. The usage of “canon” itself to refer to a collection of books is only of eighteenth century vintage. The general usage anciently and to the present of canon or κανων was in reference to a rule, either literal or metaphorical, that is, either a measuring stick of some kind or a set of beliefs held as an authoritative code for one’s behavior. Yet these days, in discussing various books of the Bible, people will often speak of whether a book is canonical or non-canonical, by which they simply mean whether it is or is not considered a book of the Bible, or the “Biblical canon” by which they mean that list of books in the Bible. This usage is likely to only generate more confusion, because it is then assumed that there is some single official list of books that belong to the Bible, which there is not. Different faith traditions have different Bibles. Among Christians, Protestant, Roman Catholics and Orthodox each have an increasing number of different books included in their Bibles, with the latter having several different lists of such books (from the Eastern Orthodox, the Russian and Greek traditions differ by including one book each which the other doesn’t; among the Oriental Orthodox, the Coptic Church and Ethiopic Churches include even more books than the Eastern Orthodox, while some of the Syrian Orthodox have five fewer books in their New Testament through excluding the books of 2 Peter, 2-3 John, Jude, and the Apocalypse). As is also well known, the Jewish Bible includes the same books as the Protestant Old Testament, though traditionally arranging the books in a different order than they do. So, there is no “the” canon at all, but several canons, depending upon various traditions, which situation becomes even more complex if one looks at historical documentation concerning which books various ancient writers thought should be considered part of the Bible. Let us leave this confusion to the side for now.

There is a better way to discuss these books, by simply using “canonical” with the older connotation in mind. That is, these books are canonical to particular groups because they were considered to reflect their regula fidei or κανων πιστεως. By using this approach, we not only come to an immediate understanding of precisely why certain traditions include the various books in their Bibles, but also enter into a greater continuity with past reflection on and usage of the the word and concept of “canon,” thus returning to an understanding that these books didn’t just happen to be in a certain collection divorced from all interaction with people as though by an inevitable physical process which has yet to be discovered, but rather through a process in which they were recognized as reflective of the values and mores, the “canons,” of those groups which mindfully and prayerfully included them in their Bibles. Likewise, other books were prayerfully and mindfully excluded, as they were not considered to reflect the rule of faith or tradition.

Thus, rather than saying, “This is the Eastern Orthdox Biblical Canon,” it is better to say, “These are the canonical books of the Bible in the Eastern Orthodox Church.” The difference in usage is subtle, but important. “Canonical” connotes a relationship to a tradition’s rule of faith as canon, while “canon” would attempt to substitute a set of mute books for that living tradition. It is a kind of bibliolatry to place the books of the Bible in the position of the Rule of Faith. They are certainly a part of it, along with other elements, but they are not the Rule of Faith itself. Our language should reflect that reality.

It is important to remember that, as some wag put it, “The Church wrote the Bible; the Bible didn’t create the Church.”