Orthodoxia – Page 2

Eastern Orthodoxy in the ESV Study Bible

My copy of the ESV Study Bible arrived this week. It is a confection of modern publishing technology, I must say. The color printing of maps and charts throughout is impressive. The color is crisp, as is all the text, even in the smallest type. The paper is exceedingly thin, yet strong and opaque. There is no bleeding of ink. The binding is perhaps too tightly sewn, but it should loosen up in time and lead to less crinkling in the gutter. I’m not a fan of the super-limp calfskin cover, though. A more substantial lining is in order, I think, but that’s a personal preference. I found only two problems: the top corners of two leaves (one in Isaiah and the other in the concordance) were folded down when the text block was cut. It was a matter of a only few moments to trim them, though. Otherwise, it’s an examplary piece of binding.

Flipping through, I noticed an article on “The Bible in Christianity” (pp 2613-2622) including sections on Roman Catholicism (pp 2613-2615), Eastern Orthodoxy (pp 2615-2617), Liberal Protestantism (pp 2618-2619), Evangelical Protestantism (pp 2620-2622), and Evangelical Protestantism and Global Christianity (pp 2622). Knowing a little something of Eastern Orthodoxy, I decided to read through this section as my first taste of the ESV Study Bible.

Somewhat surprisingly, Eastern Orthodoxy receives a treatment equivalent in length to that of Evangelical Protestantism, which is the section describing the target audience of the ESV Study Bible. These are the lengthiest sections of the article, at two and one quarter pages each.

This Eastern Orthodoxy section of the article was written by Robert Letham of Wales Evangelical School of Theology. It is likely that he was chosen to author this piece as, among other books, Letham is the author of Through Western Eyes–Eastern Orthodoxy: A Reformed Perspective (Mentor/Christian Focus Publications, 2007), in which he introduces the Eastern Orthodox Church to a Reformed Christian audience. Letham is also a minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Thus his perspective is one that can only be considered perfectly amenable to the ESV editors and their target audience, which is that of Reformed Evangelicals.

It is always tricky to write, particularly in summary, about another religious tradition than one’s own. A sympathetic eye is necessary in evaluating such writing, as there are many aspects of any tradition that escape the notice of outsiders, and nuances thereof which are not apprehended. This is not surprisingly the case in this instance. While the majority of the article is very well done, I think in several places, some too severe editing must have shortened some originally more robust passages that formerly made more coherent points. I’ll comment only on those statements in the article which need correction. It is to be understood that I find the rest of the article quite sympathetic and informed. We begin.

Continue reading “Eastern Orthodoxy in the ESV Study Bible”

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Intermonastic rumble!

From the Foreword of Holy Transfiguration Monastery’s The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian (p. xxxiii), following a lengthy pair of quotations of Saint Isaac, in which he says, “The man who follows Christ in solitary mourning is greater than he who praises Christ amid the congregations of men” (Hom. 64), the editor writes:

How far have we that are monastics departed from this understanding in these latter days, and become self-called teachers, writers, missionaries, charismatics, etc. One beholds in the Western part of the world monastics attending movies and writing reviews ‘for the edification of the faithful’, bishops and monastics teaching full time in secular institutions as monk-scholars in imitation of the Latin scholastic tradition. Elsewhere we read of cantatas played in deserts and abodes of prayer. We are told, ‘We must learn again what beauty is. We must learn to be carried on the thunder of a fugure, to be engulfed in the madness of Lear, to be consumed with the sanity of Quixote. We need to be refreshed by the health and charity of Dickens, illumined by the clarity and perception of Hugo, ballasted by the sober gravity and sidelong wit of Johnson, touched by the fire of Donne, soothed by Chaucer’s flowering springtime.’ And this from monastic lips.

Through the wonders of the internet, behold the article from which the ‘objectionable’ quotation was drawn: “Literature, Culture and the Western Soul” by the Sisters of St. Xenia Skete, originally published in slightly different form as “Forming the Soul” in The Orthodox Word 19(1983).1-2.

The two perspectives are interesting, but I in no way find myself even the least amenable to supporting a perspective that rejects beauty. I’m siding with the nuns, ‘to be carried on the thunder of a fugure, to be engulfed in the madness of Lear, to be consumed with the sanity of Quixote. We need to be refreshed by the health and charity of Dickens, illumined by the clarity and perception of Hugo, ballasted by the sober gravity and sidelong wit of Johnson, touched by the fire of Donne, soothed by Chaucer’s flowering springtime.’

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The Eastern Orthodox and the RSV

As I mentioned in my last post regarding the reception of the New Revised Standard Version by Anglophone Eastern Orthodox Christians, the Revised Standard Version has long been the only modern translation other than the NRSV to include all the books of the Greek Orthodox and Russian Orthodox Old Testaments (the two differ in the former including 4 Maccabees, and the latter including 2 Esdras, also known as 4 Ezra; both also include 3 Maccabees and Psalm 151 in addition to all the Roman Catholic deuterocanonical books). Of course, the text underlying the proto-canon of the RSV and NRSV is the Hebrew Masoretic text, while the Orthodox Christian Bibles are the Septuagint in the Greek Orthodox Church, or derivative translations of it in other jurisdictions, and these texts do differ extensively on occasion. Thus it is really the availability of the extended set of apocrypha/deuterocanonical books which was of such value to Orthodox readers. The last translation of a Bible to include them all was that of Sir Lancelot Brenton’s translation of the Septuagint in the late nineteenth century. The story of the extension of the Revised Standard Version, which initially only included the books of the Protestant canon, is very interesting, and we are fortunate to have various accounts of its development written by one of those people most involved in the work of both the Revised Standard Version and the New Revised Standard Version, the late Bruce Manning Metzger.

Someone fortunately conviced Professor Metzger to write an autobiography, entitled Reminiscences of an Octogenarian (Hendrickson, 1997). He has told the story of the work behind the RSV and NRSV in numerous articles and even in a short book on The Making of the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, along with the other chief editors Robert Dentan and Walter Harrelson, which consists of several reworked articles. The information that follows is mostly drawn from Chapter 7 of Metzger’s Reminiscences…, “Translating the Bible: The Revised Standard Version” (pp 76-88).

The initial publication of the Revised Standard Version included only the New Testament, on 11 February 1946. The Old Testament (Protestant canon only) was then published 30 September 1952, fittingly on the festal day of St Jerome, translator of the Latin Vulgate. Shortly thereafter, the Protestant Episcopal Church (the Anglican Church in the United States) requested that a new translation of the Apocrypha be done. The Anglican and Roman Catholic Biblical canons are nearly identical. Whereas the former includes 1 Esdras, 2 Esdras, and the Prayer of Manasseh, these books are in an appendix to the Old Testament in the Roman Catholic tradition (as 3 Ezra, 4 Ezra and Prayer of Manasses), as they were not named explicitly in the fourth session of the Council of Trent, held 8 April 1546, which decided the Roman Catholic canon, although they were typically included in Latin Bibles. All of these books were translated by a small committee, and the Revised Standard Version Apocrypha were published in 1957. The Catholic Edition of the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, in which the deuterocanonical books are interspersed among the protocanonical books in the Old Testament as in the Latin Vulgate Bible, was first published in 1966, though excluding 3-4 Ezra and the Prayer of Manasseh. Advances in the field of New Testament textual criticism led to the publication of a Second Edition of the Revised Standard Version New Testament in 1971. The Common Bible Revised Standard Version, which included all the Roman Catholic canon and then an appendix with a note regarding the status of 1 & 2 Esdras and the Prayer of Manasseh, was published in 1973 as the first explicitly ecumenically-intended Bible. On May 9th of that year, Bruce Metzger and others, including the Greek Orthodox Archbishop Athenagoras of Thyateira and Great Britain, were granted a private audience in Rome with Pope Paul VI, during which he was presented with a specially bound copy of the Common Bible. It was after this meeting that Archbishop Athenagoras made a point of noting to Professor Metzger that the Common Bible was not truly ecumenical in that it lacked 3 Maccabees, 4 Maccabees and Psalm 151, and his hope that this would be rectified in future. In fact, those books had already begun to be translated the previous year by another subcommittee, in answer to general growing interest in the apocrypha. The texts of these translations were released in 1976 to the various authorized publishers of the RSV. The New Oxford Annotated Bible with the Apocrypha, Expanded Edition was the first to include them, published 19 May 1977. Professor Metzger presented a copy of this new edition to Patriarch Demetrios of Constantinople 18 December 1977, after nearly losing the volume by leaving it on the counter in the Istanbul airport after changing some money! It was this Bible that was the first to include all the books contained in Greek Orthodox and Russian Orthodox Bibles (though with the proviso that the textual base of the protocanonical books of the Old Testament were often quite different, as noted above). It was thus partly a result of general growing interest in the apocrypha, and the gracious accomodation of the requests of an Orthodox hierarch which led to the production of this first modern scholarly edition of the full Orthodox apocrypha.

Of importance is not just the quality of the translation of the books themselves, which is certainly very high, but there was also the feeling among Eastern Orthodox Christians in Anglophone countries that they had finally been recognized as equal partners in their “new” homes at last–they had finally “made it.” In those days, there were very few converts into the Orthodox churches. There was often a perception (from within as from without) that there was an ethnic barrier to their acceptance in various efforts, as though they weren’t even Christian. However, from the time of this gesture by the Standard Bible Committee in producing the Expanded Edition of the RSV Apocrypha the Orthodox Church has continued to be recognized in all various ecumenical endeavours as a witness not just to the ancient Church, but as a living and dynamic presence in the world with its own witness to share with others, whatever the merits or demerits of those ecumenical endeavours may actually be.

So it seems apparent that Eastern Orthodox appreciation of the RSV is twofold: 1.) it is the first modern English translation to include all Orthodox deuterocanonical books; and 2.) by being the first to do so, it gained a certain amount of prestige in Orthodox circles. With the publication of the NRSV, however, its apocrypha are now also available for the use of Orthodox Christians, though the texts of the Old Testament and New Testament are, from the Orthodox perspective, disfigured by a senseless accomodation to a requirement for gender neutrality of language. Orthodox exegesis rooted in the Church Fathers reads many of the generic singular masculine references throughout the Old Testament in particuar as prophecies of Christ. The NRSV has cut itself off from this ancient tradition, has cut itself off from Christianity itself some would say, in preference for the allaying of individual neuroses over Tradition. The RSV, however, does not suffer from any such accomodation, and so is still perceived as a non-ideologically motivated and useful reference, and is indeed used in Orthodox Bible studies in parishes throughout the English-speaking world.

Another note of Orthodox appreciation of the RSV is found in its being the base text of the large Greek-English Gospel lectionary commonly found in US Greek Orthodox churches (Holy and Sacred Gospel ΘΕΙΟΝ ΚΑΙ ΙΕΡΟΝ ΕΥΑΓΓΕΛΙΟΝ The Complete Text, published by Holy Cross Orthodox Press, Brookline, Massachusetts, 1993). The text was altered where necessary to match the Greek lectionary text and to provide pericope openings, but it is by and large the RSV.

With the appearance now of the New English Translation of the Septuagint (or NETS), we now have a very exceedingly well-done scholarly translation of the ancient Old Testament of Greek Orthodox Christians. Although Orthodox find it is not without its problems in certain spots, it is still a translation based on the best texts available for the Septuagint, and will certainly make a useful addition to Orthodox Christian personal and group Bible studies.

I hope this has been a useful exposition.

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Eastern Orthodox Blessing of the NRSV

A while ago now, Iyov brought up some interesting points in a discussion on the merits or demerits of another blogger’s description of the ecumenically popular New Revised Standard Version (henceforth NRSV).

Now, one of the great claims to fame of the NRSV, as seen on the About the NRSV web page, is that “[The NRSV] received the blessing of a leader of the Greek Orthodox Church.” Now, this claim was certainly surprising to me, as I was (like other Orthodox Bible readers) familiar with Bishop Tikhon’s report regarding the Holy Synod of the Orthodox Church in America (or as a certain beloved friend calls it, the Metropolia) deciding “not to permit the use of the NRSV in liturgical services and in bible study.” This decision was made in October 1990, roughly a year after the publication of the NRSV. Because of this oddity, I decided to track down the source of this apparent contradition, that an Orthodox synod of bishops could advise against the use of a Bible, while another bishop would actual bless it.

I can’t recall the precise chain of events that led me to the solution, but it involved email, telephone and library drudgery in some tedious combination. Yet at last, I reaped the fruits of such dreary labor, preserved in two slightly tatty photocopied pages now. In the Introduction to the 1989 edition of the NRSV Common Bible, one of the first NRSV editions to be printed, we read the following from the late Archbishop IAKOVOS of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of North and South America (p. iii):

I wish to express my gratitude for the NRSV and my appreciation of the forthcoming Common Bible. The inclusion of Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant biblical scholars assures an ecumenical integrity in this work. Further, the common arrangement of the text provides another important bridge for our learning from one another among our various Christian communities. The Orthodox faithful have my encouragement and blessing in making full use of the NRSV Common Bible. The translation and study of Scripture together is an precious gift in the service of Christian unity.

Now, two things leap out from this statement. This “blessing” is obviously the source of the claim noted in About the NRSV above; it is, however, a figurative blessing, not a liturgical one, in case anyone thought that was the case. The other is that Archbishop Iakovos apparently had not yet read the NRSV Common Bible, as he notes it to be “forthcoming,” so it is not a stretch to understand that he hadn’t read it yet when writing this statement, but was perhaps reacting to a press release of some kind which solicited his statement (a not uncommon occurrence for Archbishop Iakovos).

There are some more subtle nuances of the Archbishop’s note that would fail to be appreciated by non-Orthodox, which I think are worth explaining. First, note that he places Orthodox first in the list of biblical scholars, though only one of the scholars involved in the project was Orthodox (Fr Demetrios Constantelos, who worked on both the New Testament and Apocrypha), obviously emphasizing the Orthodox role in the production of the NRSV, not too surprisingly. Second, there is the strange formulation “ecumenical integrity.” In Orthodox circles, ecumenism (as generally understood) is derided, in some circles more strongly than in others. This is because Orthodox ecclesiology declares the Eastern Orthodox Church to be The Church; there is no other, therefore Orthodox Christians can only be a witness to others in such “ecumenical” settings in order to draw them to The Church. It is to be understood, therefore, that without an Orthodox scholar, this ecumenical project will have had no integrity from an Orthodox standpoint, of course. This subtext is present even here in Archbishop Iakovos’ endorsement of the NRSV Common Bible, where we read that “translation and study of Scripture together is a precious gift in the service of Christian unity.” His Eminence uses the phrase “in the service of Christian unity,” that is, leading toward a Christian unity, not “in the expression of Christian unity,” for that surely does not exist; but the witness of the Orthodox in a shared environment of Bible study may further that unity, so that others might be drawn to The Church. Such subtleties must be appreciated.

In the end, however, we are still left with Archbishop Iakovos’ “encouragement and blessing” for Orthodox faithful to use the NRSV Common Bible, which seems to contradict the OCA Synod’s later decision noted above. The NRSV Common Bible is essentially just a full NRSV, including all the NRSV apocryphal/deuterocanonical books in a section between the Old Testament and New Testament (this same “common arrangement” of books is found in all editions of the NRSV which include the apocryphal/deuterocanonical books), and with a few Study Articles prepended to the volume, namely: “The Transmission and Translation of the Bible” by Bruce M. Metzger; “The Bible in the Church” by J. Stephen Freeman; “Major Themes in the Bible” by Gina Hens-Piazza; “Archaeology and Bible Study” by Marsha A. Ellis Smith; and “How to Study a Bible Passage” by John O. Gooch). I think Archbishop Iakovos was particularly impressed by the inclusion of the full number of the apocryphal/deuterocanonical books (as in the 1977 full edition of the RSV) which appear in the Greek Orthodox Old Testament (the Septuagint), and their potential to be a witness to Orthodoxy, as well as sustaining Orthodox faithful. Until the NRSV, of all the modern translations only the RSV included all those books (there is now also the NETS), so any new translation of these neglected books would naturally be celebrated by a pastor whose flock had been deprived of grass from the best meadow. In view of this, it seems appropriate to question whether Archbishop Iakovos had read the entire translation; it is very likely not the case that he did. The gender-related language issues with the NRSV, as noted by the OCA Synod, are a serious drawback. If the Archbishop had spent time with the NRSV to familiarize himself better with its text, he may have come to give a less ringing endorsement, or none at all. As he terms the NRSV Common Bible “forthcoming,” it is safe to conclude that he had not seen the full text, and knew only of the plan to include the apocrypha/deuterocanonicals. In any case, the above quotation from the NRSV Common Bible is the source of the NRSV’s claim to “the blessing of a leader of the Greek Orthodox Church.”

In addition, however, to Archbishop Iakovos’ encouragement and blessing, another Eastern Orthodox hierarch provided an endorsement, Metropolitan PHILIP, Primate of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America (p. iv):

I am delighted to add my name to the endorsers of the NRSV Common Bible. We pray that this edition of the Holy Bible which will include the Deutero-canonical books will be a blessing to all those who read and study the Holy Scriptures.

Again, note that it is the deuterocanonical books which gain a Hierarch’s attention. His Eminence is quite apparently impressed, as was Archbishop Iakovos, by the inclusion in the NRSV Common Bible of all the Eastern Orthodox Old Testament books. He explicitly equates their presence with a blessing on the reader. It also sounds, however, as though Metropolitan Philip had not actually seen or read the Bible, but is reacting to a statement on its forthcoming release. Perhaps that was the case. In any case, he does not display a deep familiarity with the text outside of a knowledge that it is to include (some? all?) deuterocanonical books.

So, it seems clear that the “blessing” granted to the New Revised Standard Version by these Eastern Orthodox hierarchs was based less on a familiarity with the entire text and was more related to the inclusion of all the deuterocanonical books in the Greek Old Testament, which would be edifying for both Eastern Orthodox readers and for others who may come to understand something more of Eastern Orthodoxy through them. Celebrating this new translation of such books, after such a long time using the stilted translations of Brenton or even the RSV, would have been easy to do, as they are excellently done, and eminently readable. Especially nice in the NRSV is the full translation of the Greek Esther, rather than simply the disjointed Additions, as is the translation of the longer text of Tobit, and the very, very nicely done Sirach, the textual issues with which book are extremely daunting. I myself, on the whole, find the Apocrypha/Deuterocanonicals in the NRSV to be its best-done section, of better quality overall than either the NRSV Old Testament or New Testament, or even the both together.

Thus endeth the lesson, so to speak.

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Bishop Hilarion Alfeyev on St Symeon the New Theologian

I recently finished reading Russian Orthodox Bishop Hilarion Alfeyev’s St Symeon the New Theologian and Orthodox Tradition (Oxford University Press, 2000; 2005 reprint), one of the more recent volumes in the Oxford Early Christian Studies series edited by Gillian Clark and Fr Andrew Louth.

Let me first say that, magnificent as the content this book is (and it is, on which see below), as is the case in the other several volumes in the Oxford Early Christian Studies series that I have, all the volumes in the series are too expensive, whether paperback or hardback. The Alfeyev St Symeon volume is hardcover and $218.00 list price. The cover is hard, but the binding is cut and glued, not sewn signatures, which I always, not unreasonably, expect in a “hardcover.” Likewise, it’s a laser-printed copy. This is evident in the sheen of the letters on the page. Had I any doubts about that, this statement on the copyright page would have allayed them: “This book has been printed digitally and produced in a standard specification in order to ensure its continuing availability.” Right. Someone thinks that a $218 laser-printed, cheaply bound hardcover is going to “ensure…continuing availability” in some realistic market. [As an aside, having formerly worked with archival documents, I do not hold out hopes for the print in this volume to remain on the page for much more than about ten years. Usually around that time, laser-printed ink begins to flake off the page. So, I have that to look forward to down the line: a book in disappearing ink!] So, I would suggest waiting for a paperback reprint of this book to appear (which will run around $75, if it’s like other titles in this series), or perhaps one might even buy the Kindle edition (for $135), which is available through Amazon, if one has a Kindle thing (yet, who knows how long that format will remain viable?). This is all so very regrettable and quite distressing, because this book (Iike all the others I’ve read in the series) deserves a wide audience that it simply will never find in these formats at these prices.

St Symeon the New Theologian and Orthodox Tradition is the doctoral dissertation of Bishop Hilarion Alfeyev, supervised by Metropolitan Kallistos Ware at Oxford. That combination alone should raise eyebrows, as will the following familiar names who contributed to Bishop Hilarion’s study: Sebastian Brock, Robert Taft, Ephrem Lash, and Andrew Louth. As a dissertation, it is more than one would expect it to be, displaying not just familiarity, but a real mastery of both primary and secondary material. In addition, there is an added degree of attention and care, as Bishop Hilarion is also an Orthodox believer, and St Symeon the New Theologian is a treasured saint.

For those who are not familar with St Symeon the New Theologian, a short history here is in order. There were several various crossroads in Orthodox Chrisitan history, which were theological controversies. Usually at these crossroads in the Orthodox Church, there would be a determination of one side of the controversy as orthodoxy, with the opposing side designated heresy. St Symeon the New Theologian was at the center of such a controversy in his time, and suffered exile and censure for it, to the point of even being considered a heretic by some ecclesiastical authorities in his day (he lived roughly 975-1025), though he was later vindicated. His appellation “the New Theologian” is, as Bishop Hilarion shows, very likely based in his affinity with the Church Father he most often quotes, St Gregory Nazianzen, who is also known as St Gregory the Theologian, and often even as simply The Theologian, just as St Paul the Apostle is often referred to as The Apostle. St Symeon the New Theologian fought against what we can now see in hindsight was a very dangerous opinion, that the age of holiness had past, and there would be no more great saints, no more miracles, no more visions. This archivization of the Faith is still something that must be fought, for there are those who would turn Orthodoxy into a museum of ancient practices devoid of any relation to modern life and modern lives, and deny the possibility of sanctity among the living (which denial sounds like heresy to me!). St Symeon the New Theologian, following in the footsteps of his spiritual father St Symeon the Studite, instead joyously announced that visions of the uncreated light of God were available not just to ancient saints, who surely saw it, but also to modern people who lived proper Orthodox lives, particularly in following a monastic, ascetic way of life in humility and obedience. As proof, St Symeon the New Theologian mentions his own experiences of the Divine light, which he was blessed to experience often. His writings were also drawn upon and key in establishing the direction taken at the next Orthodox crossroads, during the Hesychastic controversy about three hundred years later. Bishop Hilarion shows how St Symeon the New Theologian, far from being the innovator he was accused of being by some, was solidly rooted in Orthodox Tradition, basing his position in the writings of the great Church Fathers through the ages right up until his own day. In the end, what I myself take away from St Symeon the New Theologian is that particular hopefulness for sainthood that a sometimes put-upon Christian needs the reassurance of. No, I don’t expect to be another St Gregory the Theologian or even St Symeon the New Theologian, but I feel a need to aim for it. To have that hope as a possibility, however much I may fail in its attainment, is a great help. Thank you, St Symeon, and the God of our grace, for that hope!

Anyhow, back to the review. The pages are xiv + 338. Aside from the oddity of the laser-printing of the text, the font is nice and the paper is good, matte, not glossy (there is no mention as to its being acid-free, so it’s probably not). The book is roughly 5.75 x 8.75 x 1″ (14.5 x 22.5 x 2.5 cm), so it’s a comfortable enough one-hand book, though the glued binding is a bit tight for that to be truly comfortable. Following the usual front matter and Introduction, the book is divided into two parts. Part 1, “The Historical, Monastic, Scriptural, and Liturgical Background of St. Symeon the New Theologian,” is composed of the chapters “Symeon the New Theologian in the Context of the Studite Monastic Tradition,” “Symeon and Holy Scripture,” “Symeon and Divine Worship,” and “The Influence of Symeon the Studite on Symeon the New Theologian.” Part 2, “St. Symeon the New Theologian and the Patristic Tradition of the Orthodox Church” is composed of the chapters “Symeon and the Cycle of His Daily Reading,” “Triadological Polemic in Symeon’s Writings,” “Symeon’s Theology as Based on That of the Church Fathers,” “The Patristic Basis of Symeon’s Anthropology,” “The Patristic Background of Symeon’s Eccleisiology,” and “Some Aspects of Symeon’s Asceticism and Mysticism with Patristic Parallels.” This is followed by a General Conclusion in two parts, “Mysticism and Tradition: Symeon and His Place in the Orthodox Church,” and “Symeon’s Afterlife in Orthodox Tradition.” There then follow a very helpful Bibliography arranged by subject (The Writings of St Symeon the New Theologian; The Writings of St Symeon the Studite; The Life of St Symeon the New Theologian; Patristic Writings; English Translations of Patristic Writings Used in the Present Study; Hagiographical, Historical, and Canonical Sources; Liturgical Texts; Other Primary Sources; Secondary Literature), an Index of Greek Words, and a General Index. As one can see, the subject of St Symeon and Orthodox Tradition is, even in the outline of the contents, thoroughly covered. Numerous quotations of St Symeon’s writings and other Patristic writings appear in English throughout the text, most in Bishop Hilarion’s own renderings, it seems. Most of St Symeon’s writings have not appeared in English, though the majority are in French (with a facing critical text, in the excellent Sources Chrétiennes series), yet some of the writings excerpted in translation by Bishop Hilarion are unpublished, having been compiled from manuscripts. So, we have perhaps the best representation of St Symeon’s work available to us in English here in Bishop Hilarion’s work, an introduction to St Symeon’s life and spiritual instruction, for that is surely what his writings are. In fact, I think this book makes a fine general introduction to the subject of Orthodox “mysticism”, so-called, which is really simply Orthodox prayer, properly done with a foundation in Tradition, in an ascetical lifestyle, and with a humble heart.

To gain the full benefits of the discussion in this book, I think the reader should already be familiar at the very least with the vocabulary of theology, prayer, and ascesis in the Eastern Church. While many of the technical terms (theoria, ekstasis, etc) are glossed, most are not described in the kind of detail that would be very helpful for the beginner, which we shouldn’t have expected in a dissertation in any case. But this would not be too much of a problem with a little introduction. (Detailed and easily read book-length introductions on this subject are available in the classic by Vladimir Lossky, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, and in Fr Andrew Louth’s The Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition [make certain to get the revised edition, 2007, for the important new Afterword from Fr Louth].) On the other hand, the English translation of quotations is helpful for bringing the material to a wider audience, and most of the original Greek texts are available readily enough in the Sources Chrétiennes volumes, so the text is available, though not immediately so on the page. The discussion seldom revolves around philological or textual issues that would require the original, though certain important or interesting phrases are included in the numerous footnotes when appropriate.

In the end, I think this book would be a great introduction to Eastern Orthodox Tradition, St Symeon the New Theologian, and Eastern Orthodox mysticism, all in one. The three are intertwined throughout. Having the focus on a concrete individual, St Symeon, with such a wealth of his relevant writing presented, brings the often abstruse and somewhat technical discussions of Eastern Orthodox Tradition and mysticism back down to earth, showing how these things are actually lived, and in an exemplary way in this particular life of St Symeon. Barring the price, I recommend this book wholeheartedly. As it is, it is far too expensive, and I feel a certain amount of guilt in describing such a great book here in review when it is, I presume, out of the budgetary reach of most of the readers who’d be interested in it. Perhaps the pricing will change in the future to something more affordable, and this book will gain a wider readership. One can hope so, and that it will happen soon, for there are a number of titles in that Oxford series which look more interesting than their price tags look acceptable!

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A Pilgrim and a Prayer

Phil Sumpter at Narrative and Ontology has been reading the Russian Orthodox classic Откровенные рассказы странника духовному своему отцу (Candid Stories of a Pilgrim to his Spiritual Father, usually titled in English The Way of A Pilgrim) in what appears to be a very nice German translation. The selection he translates into English there I have also found in my own copy of the Helen Bacovcin translation (Doubleday/Image Books, 1978), beginning with quoting the staretz or spiritual father of the unnamed pilgrim (pp 18-19):

“To learn about this prayer, we will read from a book called the Philokalia. This book, which was compiled by twenty-five holy Fathers, contains complete and detailed instructions about ceaseless prayer. The content of this book is of such depth and usefulness that it is considered to be the primary teacher of contemplative life, and as the Venerable Nicephorus says, ‘It leads one to salvation without labor and sweat.'”

“Is it then more important than the Holy Bible?” I asked.

“No, it is neither more important nor holier than the Bible, but it contains clear exposition of the ideas that are mysteriously presented in the Bible and are not easy for our finite mind to understand. I will give you an illustration. The sun—a great, shining, and magnificent light—cannot be contemplated and looked at directly with the naked eye. An artificial glass, a million times smaller and dimmer than the sun, is needed to look at the great king of lights to be enraptured by its fiery rays. In a similar way the Holy Bible is a shining light and the Philokalia is the necessary glass.

Phil delightfully titled his post “Tradition as ‘sunglasses'” which I think is going to stick with me from now on because of this happy concatenation of connections between us, as it was one of my own posts of a quotation from the Philokalia which led him to mention his reading this book.

Philokalia (love of beautiful things) is a Greek word which came to be used to describe literary anthologies, and it is perfectly appropriate as a title of this collection of beautiful writings on prayer of the heart (or hesychastic prayer; most literally it is what is referred to as the Jesus Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner) from various Church Fathers dating from between the fourth to fifteenth centuries. The original collection was compiled in the eighteenth century by Saint Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain (Mt Athos) and St Makarios of Corinth, and published in Venice in 1782. A second edition was published, including additional texts from Patriarch Kallistos of Constantinople (mid-fourteenth century), in Athens in 1893. A third edition in five volumes total was published 1957-1963, also in Athens by Astir. It is this third edition, incorporating all the texts of the earlier editions, which is the source of the English translation which is in process of publication by His Eminence Kallistos, Metropolitan of Diokleia (by 1995, four volumes were released: 1, 2, 3, 4; the fifth may or may not yet be published), who had worked earlier with the now-reposed G. E. H. Palmer and Philip Sherrard on editing the translations initially completed by a larger team. Earlier, however, an abridgement of the original edition of the Philokalia in Slavonic, Dobrotolubiye (which likewise means love of beautiful things), was published by St Paisii Velichkovskii in 1793. This was the edition carried by the Pilgrim in his trek. A translation of this volume into Russian, still using the title Dobrotolubiye, was published by St Ignatii Branchianinov in 1857. A five-volume Russian adaptation (including extra texts and abridgements and alterations to the original Greek collection) was published by St Theophan the Recluse, complete by 1883, also under the title Dobrotolubiye. The notes and introductory essays in the English edition by Metropolitan Kallistos, et al., are contemporary, and the best available texts are used for the selections included, so it is a valuable edition, and will hopefully be completed soon. I have heard of some hesitation regarding the publishing of the fifth volume, as it includes some passages on the discipline of hesychastic prayer which are considered to be potentially susceptible to abuse in the hands of the naive or those without spiritual guidance. Concern for the spiritual welfare of all readers may lead to the fifth volume of the English translation not being published.

Along these lines, the editors (His Eminence Kallistos, Philip Sherrard, and G.E.H. Palmer) provide the following cautions for those who would attempt hesychastic prayer:

It must be stressed, however, that this spiritual path known as hesychasm cannot be followed in a vacuum. Although most of the texts in the Philokalia are not specifically doctrinal, they all presuppose doctrine even when they do not state it. Moreover, this doctrine entails an ecclesiology. It entails a particular understanding of the Church and a view of salvation inextricably bound up with its sacramental and liturgical life. This is to say that hesychasm is not something that has developed independently of or alongside the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church. It is part and parcel of it. It too is an ecclesial tradition. To attempt to practise it, therefore, apart from active participation in this sacramental and liturgical life is to cut it off from its living roots. It is also to abuse the intention of its exponents and teachers and so to act with a presumption that may well have consequences of a disastrous kind, mental and physical.

There is a further point connected with this. The texts in the Philokalia were written by and for those actively living not only within the sacramental and liturgical framework of the Orthodox Church, but also within that of the Orthodox monastic tradition. They therefore presuppose conditions of life radically different from those in which most readers of this English translation are likely to find themselves. Is this tantamount to saying that the counsels they contain can be applied only within a monastic environment? Many hesychast writers affirm that this is not the case, and St Nikodimos himself, in his introduction to the original Philokalia, goes out of his way to stress that ‘unceasing prayer’ may or, rather, should be practised by all. Naturally, the monastic life provides conditions, such as quietness, solitude and regularity, indispensable for that concentration without which one cannot advance far along the spiritual path. But, provided that the basic condition of active participation in the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church is fulfilled, then this path is open to all to follow, each to the best of his or her ability and whatever the circumstances under which he or she lives. Indeed, in this respect the distinction between the monastic life and life ‘in the world’ is but relative: every human being, by virtue of the fact that he or she is created in the image of God, is summoned to be perfect, is summoned to love God with all his or her heart, soul and mind. In this sense all have the same vocation and all must follow the same spiritual path. Some no doubt will follow it further than others; and again for some the intensity of the desire with which they pursue it may well lead them to embrace a pattern of life more in harmony with its demands, and this pattern may well be provided by the monastic life. But the path with its goal is one and the same whether followed within or outside a monastic environment. What is essential is that one does not follow it in an arbitrary and ignorant manner. Personal guidance from a qualified teacher should always be sought for. If such guidance is not to be found, then active participation in the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church, always necessary, will have an added importance in the overcoming of obstacles and dangers inherent in any quest of a spiritual nature.
Philokalia, vol 1, pp 15-16

The dangers warned of are real. Every “quest of a spiritual nature” is fraught with peril when attempted without the foundation of discernment necessary to “test the spirits” (1 Jn 4.1). There is no such thing as “Eastern Orthodox mysticism.” There is only Eastern Orthodoxy. With all its dogma, its liturgies, its canons and ecclesiology, its hymnography and iconography, and its life of prayer, it is one organic whole, and indivisible. It is precisely those who would separate an imagined “Eastern Orthodox mysticism” in hesychasm from Eastern Orthodoxy who are in the most danger. Would a novice weightlifter attempt to lift 500 pounds the first day he steps foot in a gym? Never! But there are those in these modern times who would certainly attempt to practice hesychastic prayer without its foundation and its proper context in a life lived in the Orthodox Church and the spiritual nourishment and healing and protection that such entails. I shudder to think what would happen when some of these people who don’t even believe in demons would attempt hesychastic prayer. Those would be the easiest of marks, so easily deceived and destroyed.

I don’t mean at all to imply here that my friend Phil or anyone else should stop reading and enjoying the Strannik and/or Philokalia. Not in the least! They are classics to be enjoyed and loved by all. I only thought it helpful to bring up the warnings regarding the practice of the Jesus Prayer in this context, as these two works, The Way of a Pilgrim and the Philokalia deal precisely with that prayer as their primary subject. If these books interest someone, if they love them greatly, then they should also become more familiar with the Orthodox tradition that has produced them, in which the practice of hesychastic prayer, the Jesus Prayer, is an organically integrated part. Yes, yes, I admit it: I would have the whole world convert to Orthodoxy, if it would. I admit my complete partiality, rooted in joy and love. But who could not be partial to any group that produces such things as the Philokalia and The Way of a Pilgrim?! Orthodoxy is itself the love of beautiful things indeed, the most beautiful being God! And along with that love for God, the love for our fellow man prompted me to share the above warnings. I trust this concern will be appreciated in the spirit in which it is intended.

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Heroes of Faith

Today is the Sunday of Orthodoxy on which we commemorate the Seventh Ecumenical Council and the vindication of the Apostolic Faith. Though the particular emphasis on this day is on icons, as the Seventh Ecumenical Council definitively categorized iconoclasm and aniconism in the Church as heresy, since this was the last great theological challenge in the formative years of the Church, it has come to be celebrated as a commemoration of the defense, approbation and triumph of the Apostolic Faith against all its enemies through the ages.

Today was also read for the Epistle reading Hebrews 11.32-40, a passage very familiar to Christians as one describing heroes of the faith. There is a very interesting variation on this particular reading from the old Georgian Lectionary, which is based almost verbatim on the practice in the churches in Jerusalem circa 700 AD. This variation entails the insertion of names of various holy prophets into the text at appropriate places:

And what more can we say, for time would fail us in this description of the judges, of Barak, of Samson, and of Jephthah, of the kings, of David and Samuel and the prophets, Abraham and the judges who through faith conquered kings, Abraham, Moses, Joshua and Phineas administered justice, Abraham, Joshua, and Caleb received promises, Samson and David and Daniel shut the mouths of lions, the three youths Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael quenched flaming fire, Uriah, Mideli [sic], and Elijah the Prophet escaped the edge of the sword, David, King Hezekiah, King Asa received strength out of weakness, Gideon, Barak, Samson, and David routed the foreign armies, the Shunammite woman and the woman from Sarepta — women received their dead by resurrection, the seven Maccabee brothers and their mother and other prophets others were tortured … that they might be worthy, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Job, certain were bent over … were tested, Jeremiah and Micah chained and imprisoned, Jeremiah and Naboth were stoned, Isaiah was cut in two, Job, Zerubbabel were tempted, Micah, Amos, Zechariah the priest were killed by the sword, John the Baptist, Elijah, Elishah went around in skins…this world, the prophet who nourished Obadiah wandered in deserts…in the caves of the earth. With all these, witness was proven…that not without us will they be perfected.

There are two quite striking additions relating to the Old Testament apocrypha and pseudepigrapha, and others that may likely do so, though they are obscure.

The first is “the seven Maccabee brothers and their mother and other prophets others were tortured … that they might be worthy” is inserted into verse 35, the relevant part of which in the ESV reads: “Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life.” Anyone familiar with the tale of the mother and her seven sons in Second Maccabees chapter 7 will recognize this summary in Hebrews 11.35 as relating to that episode. What is striking is that the Georgian Lectionary made this connection explicit in a liturgical context (specifically for the commemoration of Saint Antony the Great on 17 January; commemoration of the Holy Prophet Amos on 17 June; and the commemoration of the Holy Prophet Jonah on 10 December).

Then comes the reference to “Isaiah was cut in two” which is an alteration of part of verse 37, “they were sawn in two.” This particularly grisly end to the earthly life of the Holy Prophet Isaiah is related in books categorized as among the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, particularly the Martyrdom of Isaiah (also known as Ascension of Isaiah) chapter 5 and in the Lives of the Prophets 1.1. It is also mentioned in St Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho, chapter 120, and also appears in the writings of St Cyril of Jerusalem (Catechetical Lecture 13) and Palladius (Dialogue on the Life of St John Chrysostom. This is also referred to in the hymnography of Matins on Wednesday of mid-Pentecost in Eastern Orthodox churches: “They sawed Esaias asunder with a saw fashioned out of wood.” Also somewhere I’ve read an elaboration of this tradition that Isaiah was hiding inside a hollow mulberry tree, was found, and then the tree was sawed through with him inside it (I heard this so long ago as a child that whenever I see a mulberry bush I think of Isaiah; I can’t find a reference to this fuller version, however). This tradition of Isaiah’s death by being sawn asunder was so widespread, however, it’s hard to say whether it was related to a particular writing or simply a long-preserved tradition with no single source of written original expression.

Other alterations above refer to events that can’t be easily construed from the biblical text. These include “Uriah, Mideli [sic], and Elijah the Prophet escaped the edge of the sword” (Mideli being certainly a corruption, perhaps Mordecai in Esther might be meant); “Job, Zerubbabel were tempted”—I suppose one may read Job as being tempted to sin in Job, though this is not so explicit as in Testament of Job, while the tempting of Zerubbabel remains mysterious; “Micah, Amos, Zechariah the priest were killed by the sword”—the deaths of Micah and Amos are not related canonically, and death “by the sword” doesn’t fit the descriptions in Lives of the Prophets, wherein Micah is apparently pushed off a cliff, and Amos dies some days after being hit in the head with a club (LivPro 6–7), and the death of Zechariah the priest in Second Chronicles 24.20-22 is not by sword, though this could be inferred from Matthew 23.35 and Luke 11.51.

This bit of elaboration of Hebrews 11.32-40 on the part of either Greek ecclesiastics in Jerusalem or Georgian ecclesiastics in their homeland shows the enduring value of tradition within community, and specifically the value early Christians placed on traditions known through their inclusion in the Old Testament apocrypha and pseudepigrapha. Presumably the works preserving those traditions were likewise held in some kind of esteem, subordinate but supportive of the canonical biblical books (which differ among traditions).

Above all, it’s simply a delightful lectionary passage, bringing even greater life to an already beloved passage. I hope others will also find delight in it.

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Paradise Besieged

By the grace of God I am a Christian, by my deeds a great sinner, and by my calling a homeless wanderer of humblest origin, roaming from place to place. My possessions consist of a knapsack with dry crusts of bread on my back and in my bosom the Holy Bible. This is all!

It’s a simple thing, this first paragraph of The Way of a Pilgrim, but it led a Jewish friend of mine to convert to Orthodox Christianity, forsake the world for ten years of his life as a fanatical novice monk in a monastery of the Holy Mountain, Mount Athos, and eventually to write of these experiences and more in his book, Paradise Besieged (also at Amazon), his name being Richard John Friedlander.

Alternately funny, sobering, and sublime, his witty musings on monasticism in particular, and on Orthodoxy in general, should be required reading particularly for those starry-eyed converts to Orthodoxy busily memorizing the canons of The Rudder while growing their beards and hair long(er) and affecting an accent. His not too shocking revelation is that monks are human, just like the rest of us, and that monastic life is a different one than ours in the world, but not necessarily a holier one. It is a lifestyle which is less distracting from the cultivation of holiness, arguably, but life on Mount Athos is not the living embodiment of the ninefold ranks of the angelic forces glorifying God continually in an Edenic manicured park in which beatifically smiling monks stroll gravel paths in the evening discussing the Areopagitica. There are wolves on the prowl nightly on the Holy Mountain, feasting on the unwary. Real wolves, with real prey. Likewise, as in the rest of the world, sin exists there, failure and complacency, selfishness and pride. There is no escaping those on this wide earth, however far you may travel. Even so, the monks there experience the divinization of theosis as we do in the world, with saints there as surely as elsewhere, all by the grace of God. Richard brings to mind that we could all do better. At least that’s what leaps to my mind!

Throughout the book are short passages when, turning from the anecdotal, Richard lets slip with the sublime:

When Francis of Assisi said, “It is more important to love than be loved,” I believe he meant this: If you can love unconditionally, then, it won’t matter to you if you are loved in return: In loving, you are loved. You did not love expecting a reward; you experienced love in the giving of love. If your love carries expectations, however, you won’t know you are loved even if you are. The will to survive becomes the need to love. Pretty much the same can be said about understanding: you will experience understanding of yourself only as you attempt to understand others. And if your focus is on understanding others, then it will not matter if they understand you. Will you succeed? The monk prays only to have the desire to have the desire to pray. The inability to love others of their own kind may be one of the reasons so many find their bliss in the love of Christ.

I recommend Richard’s book wholeheartedly. While it may sound at first as though it’s simply a critique of various failings here, there, and everywhere to do with the center of Orthodox monasticism, it succeeds on a deeper level, particularly on reflection. It doesn’t hurt to know him personally as an intelligent, witty, very well-read and entirely urbane gentleman. Keeping that in mind, it’s a memoir examining, in part, the personal shortcomings of a life half a lifetime past, but with lessons for all of us today, particularly as commentary on where we Orthodox too easily permit those shortcomings to take hold and become the routine, or even the goal, thinking all the while that somebody, somewhere else, is holding the line. While those ideal conversations on an evening stroll discussing the Areopagitica may not be a reality now, there’s no reason not to aim for them to be so in some way in our lives. Likewise, our true surrender to transformation by God will usually turn our ideas of what we think He wants from us on their heads, as we’re confronted with His will for our lives not in an abstract and idealized sense, but in a personal and realized way. This is the Incarnation at work in each of us, in the process of theosis, through as simple and as fearsome a thing as Holy Communion. Such lives can have nothing to do with complacency of any kind in any respect. Richard brings this clearly to mind with this book, if I were to have to pin down “the moral of the story.”

So, get a copy, give it a read, let it sink in, and let me know your thoughts, as well. I know several others are currently reading and enjoying it or recently have. The more, the merrier!

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Which Byzantine Ruler Are You?

From Mike Aquilina’s The Way of the Fathers blog, the Which Byzantie Ruler Are You? quiz.

Which am I? Why, Saint Justinian, of course! (He was in mind as I giggled my way through answering the questions!) Here’s Mike’s blurb on this undeniably great emperor:

In the sixth century, Justinian accomplished the brief recovery of the empire’s old territory in the east, in Africa, and in the west. His victories, however, were hard won over the course of decades, and they came at a great cost in human life, not to mention taxation. Paradoxically, Justinian’s military successes probably contributed to the empire’s subsequent decline. The conquered lands were hardly secure, and many were lost in the years after his death. During his reign there was a great flowering of Byzantine culture, whose monuments remain in Istanbul (e.g., Hagia Sophia) and Ravenna. His reconstitution of Roman law, the so-called Justinian Code, is still the basis of civil law in some modern states. Justinian is venerated as a saint in the Orthodox Church.

Next to Justinian’s law code, we have several important different works on this period from a man very close to the Emperor, the consiliarius of the great general Belisarius, Procopius of Caesarea, who wrote the extraordinary Wars in eight books (Loeb edition: Books 1-2, Books 3-4, Books 5-6.15, Books 6.16-7.35, Books 7.36-8) chronicling Justinian’s reign and Belisarius’ remarkably successful campaigns, and the Buildings (in a volume with a general index to all the Loeb Procopius volumes), describing Justinian’s magnificent building program which included the Great Church, the Hagia Sophia. He also wrote the unfortunate Anekdota, often called The Secret History (Loeb volume), an embittered attack on Justinian, Theodora, the Church, the State and apparently anything else that entered Procopius’ sight. (Procopius seems not to have been a happy man.) Ostensibly a continuation or supplement to the Wars, the work is marred by the bitterness of its invective, and sometimes outright viciousness. This makes it, owing to the delight in gossipy trash so reflective of popular culture, the most well-known of his works. Of course.

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An Enochian memorial?

The following prayer occurs in the Litany for the Departed, an Eastern Orthodox memorial service:

O God of spirits and of all flesh, who hast trampled down death and made powerless the devil and given life to thy world: Do thou, thyself O Lord, give rest to the souls of thy departed servants, NN, in a place of brightness, a place of verdure, a place of repose, whence all sickness, sorrow and sighing have fled away.
Translation: The Liturgikon (Antakya Press, 1994)

Two things in this short passage of the litany bring to mind the book of First Enoch, and I wonder if there’s any direct (or indirect) connection.

The first is the phrase “God of spirits and of all flesh.” This is similar to the title “Lord of Spirits” which is very common in First Enoch, particularly in the Book of Similitudes (or Parables) section, chapters 37 through 71.

The second is the requested place of rest for the departed: “a place of brightness, a place of verdure, a place of repose, whence all sickness, sorrow and sighing have fled away.” This brings to my mind First Enoch 22.9: “And this has been separated for the spirits of the righteous, where the bright fountain of water is” (from the Nickelsburg/VanderKam translation).

Neither of the parallels are particularly close, but I find the combination of these two somewhat distant allusions suggestive, indeed I found them striking when I first heard them. Whether the writing of the litany, the origin of which is lost to the mists of time, was influenced by First Enoch or not, there is another, more interesting and striking parallel. This is the shared understanding of the author of First Enoch and the author(s) of the litany (and hence also of Eastern Orthodox Christian believers for whom this litany is a canonical statement of beliefs) concerning the intermediate state, between death and resurrection, as a state in which one receives a foretaste of one’s eternal reward, whether good or bad, based upon one’s life.

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