Toward Objective Evaluation of the OSB

I’ve been thinking about a way to quantify the degree to which the new Orthodox Study Bible’s “St Athanasius Academy Septuagint’ is actually a translation of the texts of the Septuagint. As is patently obvious in this “translation,” entire books of the OSB OT are only lightly reworked versions of the New King James Version, a Masoretic Text-based translation. This practice has very often led to an exclusion of the distinctive textual and even narrative characteristics of the LXX text, as various reviewers have already noted. The numerous differences between the Hebrew MT and Greek LXX are often referred to, yet there is no comprehensive list. Here are two suggestions for sources toward producing such a comprehensive list:

1.) The Parallel Aligned Hebrew-Aramaic and Greek texts of Jewish Scripture of the Center for Computer Analysis of Texts of the Religious Studies Department at the University of Pennsylvania were initially set up under the direction Emanuel Tov. In these, the texts of the MT (the Michigan-Claremont electronic text of the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia) and LXX (CATSS LXX produced from the Thesaurus Linguae Graecae LXX texts based on Rahlfs) are aligned, transliterated Hebrew on the left, transliterated Greek on the right. Pluses (where LXX has text lacking in the MT) and minuses (where LXX is lacking text in the MT) and transpositions are indicated. So, with the help of these files, it would be possible to compile an exhaustive and precise list of every place in which the LXX differs from the MT. It would be particularly easy to track down the pluses and minuses this way. But for issues of alternate readings between the two text traditions, one would still be required to compare each and every word in each and every line in order to compile a list of such differences, as these are not marked. That would be an extraordinary amount of work. Fortunately there is an alternative.

2.) Within the apparatus of the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia lie numerous indications where the LXX (and other versions) differ from the reading presented in Codex Leningradensis, taken as the exemplar of the Masoretic Text tradition. Thus, the work of indicating the alternate readings between the two traditions, MT and LXX, is effectively done in the apparatus to the BHS. These indications of alternate readings in the LXX could easily be compiled. In conjunction with the plus/minus information easily obtainable from the CCAT files, this information from the BHS apparatus may be considered to complete the desired list of MT/LXX differences.

With such a list completed, one might then simply go down the list, item by item, verse by verse, and check off each feature of the LXX that is found in the OSB OT. At the end, the number of checkmarks divided by the number of lines would provide one with a percentage to which the OSB OT actually represents the LXX text. In fact, it would become quickly apparent which books reflect more accurately the LXX, and which are largely simply the NKJV OT text, by the number of items found in each book as one is working.

The result of this would be an objective, quantifiable evaluation of the OSB OT based on authoritative works. The compiled list of MT/LXX differences would otherwise also be a very useful tool for Septuagintal research, as well, from the introductory level to that of textual criticism. It’s an interesting idea, I think.

Apocalyptic Thought in Early Christianity

I found a very interesting title in the latest Baker Academic Books catalogue: Apocalyptic Thought in Early Christianity, edited by Robert J. Daly SJ. It’s a volume in the Holy Cross Studies in Patristic Theology and History series, produced in conjunction with the Stephen and Catherine Pappas Patristic Institute of Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology in Brookline, Massachusetts. There’s some information on the [now defunct and never archived] Baker web page for this book, but there’s a complete listing of the included papers/chapters in the printed catalogue, so I’m reproducing those here.

Preface, Robert J. Daly SJ
1. “I Know Your Works”: Grace and Judgment in the Apocalypse, Theodore Stylianopoulos
2. Apocalyptic Themes in the Monunmental and Minor Art of Early Christianity, John Herrmann and Anneweis van den Hoek
3. Turning Points in Early Christian Apocalypse Exegesis, Bernard McGinn
4. “Faithful and True”: Early Christian Apocalyptic and the Person of Christ, Brian E. Daley SJ
5. Pseudo-Hippolytus’s In Sanctum Pascha: A Mystery Apocalypse, Dragoş-Andrei Giulea
6. The Divine Face and the Angels of the Face: Jewish Apocalyptic Themes in Early Christology and Pneumatology, Bogdan G. Bucur
7. Hippolytus and Cyril of Jerusalem on the Antichrist: When Did an Antichrist Theology First Emerge in Early Christian Baptismal Catechesis?, J. A. Cerrato
8. Expectations of the End in Early Syriac Christianity, Ute Possekel
9. Heavenly Mysteries: Themes from Apocalyptic Literature in the Macarian Homilies and Selected Other Fourth-Century Ascetical Writers, Alexander Golitzin
10. Eschatological Horizons in the Cappadocian Fathers, John A. McGuckin
11. Christ’s Descent to the Underworld in Ancient Ritual and Legend, Georgia Frank
12. The Early Christian Daniel Apocalyptica, Lorenzo DiTommaso
13. Temple and Angel: Apocalyptic Themes in the Theology of St. John Damascene, Elijah Nicolas Mueller
14. Images of the Second Coming and the Fate of the Soul in Middle Byzantine Art, Nancy Patterson Ševčenko

It’s a very interesting mix of authors: some recognized longtime fixtures of the apocalyptic circuit, others longtime fixtures of the Orthodox circuit. It looks to be a very interesting collection, and I’ll be picking up a copy as soon as it’s available, in June 2009. So, mark your calendars if you also find it interesting.

Coptic Synaxarium

I have a neat little four volume set of the Coptic Synaxarium, published by St Mark Coptic Orthodox Church of Chicago. The whole set is now available online in one pdf file, here, published by the St George Coptic Orthodox Church of Chicago. The Coptic Calendar is based directly on the ancient Egyptian calendar, maintaining the same month names and number of days in each month. The only difference has been the insertion of a sixth day into The Little Month, which normally only has five days, every four years. The Coptic Calendar thus very neatly lines up with the Julian Calendar, though not so neatly with the Revised Julian and Gregorian calendars. More on that is available in the quite good Wikipedia article on the Coptic Calendar. The Coptic year begins on August 29 of the Julian year. All the months have thirty days, except for the last month, The Little Month, as mentioned above. Note also that there are various spellings of the names of the months. There appears to be no systematized spelling for English usage yet. I’ll use the spellings found in the books themselves. What follows here is the list of Saints and commemorations found in the above-mentioned publication of the Coptic Synaxarium, particularly for comparison with the Eastern Orthodox calendar of commemorations.

1 Tute (29 Aug): Feast of El-Nayrouz (Beginning of the Blessed Coptic Year); Martyrdom of St Bartholomew the Apostle; Departure of St Melyos the Third Pope of Alexandria
2 Tute (30 Aug): Martyrdom of St John the Baptist; Martyrdom of St Daysa the Soldier
3 Tute (31 Aug): A Council of Bishops took place in Alexandrian; A great earthquake in Cairo and in most Egyptian cities
4 Tute (1 Sept): Departure of St Macarius the 69th Pope of Alexandria
5 Tute (2 Sept): Martyrdom of St Sophia
6 Tute (3 Sept): Martyrdom of the Prophet Isaiah; Martyrdom of St Baslantya
7 Tute (4 Sept): Departure of St Dioscorus I the 25th Pope of Alexandria; Martyrdom of Saints Agatho, Peter, John, Amon, Ammona, and their mother Rebecca; Departure of St Severianus Bishop of Gabla
8 Tute (5 Sept): Martyrdom of Zechariah the Priest father of John the Baptist; Departure of the Prophet Moses; Martyrdom of St Dimides
9 Tute (6 Sept): Martyrdom of St Pisoura Bishop of Masil
10 Tute (7 Sept): Martyrdom of St Matrounah; Commemoration of St Passin and her three children
11 Tute (8 Sept): Martyrdom of St Wasilides
12 Tute (9 Sept): Assembly of the Third Ecumenical Council at Ephesus for trying Nestor Archbishop of Constantinople; Transfer of the Relics of the martyrs St Aklimos and his companions
13 Tute (10 Sept): Departure of St Mattheos II the 92nd Pope of Alexandria; Comemoration of the wonder made by St Basil the Great, Bishop of Caesarea of Cappadocia
14 Tute (11 Sept): Departure of St Agatho the Stylite
15 Tute (12 Sept): Transfer of the Relics of St Stephen the Archdeacon
16 Tute (13 Sept): Commemoration of the Consecration of the Sanctuaries of the Resurrection; Transfer of the Relics of St John ChrysostomContinue reading “Coptic Synaxarium”

Books on the Holy Family in Egypt

I recently picked up a couple of stunningly beautiful books, “coffee table books” as they say, and wanted to recommend them to others. Both are large and lavishly illustrated.

For the Biblically illiterate, the Gospel According to Matthew describes that, after the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, Joseph is warned to take Mary and the infant Jesus into Egypt to escape the murderous intent of King Herod (unfathomably called “the Great”). Coptic tradition has the Holy Family wandering through the country for a period of three and a half years, during which they made their way as far south as Assiut. An angel told Joseph when it was safe to return to the Land of Israel, specifically to Galilee, and Joseph then took the family to Nazareth, out of the territory of Herod’s equally brutal son Archelaus. The two coffee table books are related to the traditions of the Holy Family in Egypt.

The first is one that I’d heard of from several sources, but it was Gina at Book Dust who really inspired me to pick up a copy after her post on it. She was fortunate enough to attend a presentation on the book by the editor. The book is The Churches of Egypt: From the Journey of the Holy Family to the Present Day, by Gawdat Gabra and Gertrud J. M. van Loon with Darlene L. Brooks Hedstrom, edited by Carolyn Ludwig (whose presentation Gina heard), and photographs by Sherif Sonbol. It’s a Ludwig Publishing Edition, of The American University of Cairo Press, 2007. In 328 pages, a vast number of ancient and modern churches in Egypt are described and, most strikingly, beautifully illustrated in full color by Mr Sonbol’s beautiful photography. The volume is actually heavier on the photography than on the text, but, believe me, that is no problem at all. There are some stunningly beautiful churches in Egypt, from the ancient mudbrick chapels of an ancient monastery to great Patriarchal cathedrals with towering columns. Amazon is currently offering this book at a substantial discount.

The second book is one that I hunted down after having devoured the first one. Be Thou There: The Holy Family’s Journey in Egypt is edited by Gawdat Gabra, with chapters written by William Lyster, Cornelis Hulsman, and Stephen J. Davis. The photography in this volume, also stunning, is by Norbert Schiller. This is a 164 page description of various sites associated with the journey of the the Holy Family into Egypt. (Also availabe at a discount at Amazon.) For centuries there were was only a general itinerary, mentioning a few places, but as time went on, villages and towns and cities along these routes would claim to have been passed through by the Holy Family, often with miraculous wells or trees associated with the various stops. Many of these appear in the book, without its trying to establish a precise itinerary. A more precise “official” itinerary was established by the Coptic Orthodox Church for the year 2000 celebrations. This book includes descriptions of the route and the traditionally associated pilgrim sites. There’s a very interesting appendix describing the development of the itinerary through the ages, and its development and validation not just through oral tradition, but through visions, whether ancient (like that recorded in the Vision of Theophilus, attributed to the Patriarch of Alexandria of the late third and early fourth century) or more recent (visions of the Holy Virgin Mary at Assiut in 2000).

What I found very interesting about the official itinerary is that it appears to actually follow some ancient roads, and that many of the various towns or cities passed through were certainly around in the very late first century B.C. For this, one may refer to the beautiful maps of The Barrington Atlas of the Greek and Roman World (see also here). It would be good to post more on this in the future, particularly in order to provide the ancient names for the various sites in the itinerary, which are not always obvious when they differ greatly from their modern names. It’s a fun project, one I’d like to incorporate much of the traditional material into. We’ll see how that turns out.

Anyhow, I wanted to bring attention to these two beautiful and edifying books. You may justify the expense in that they are less expensive than a tour of Egypt! Give your eyes a rest from reading words, and enjoy the beautiful photography of these books. And meditate on the travels of the Holy Family, and on the faith of the Copts, who treasure the tradition of the sanctification of their entire ancient homeland by the visit of the Holy Family up and down the Nile.

International Septuagint Day

Tyler Williams [in a defunct blog post] reminds us all that 8 February is International Septuagint Day. The day was established by the International Organization for Septuagint and Cognate Studies in order to bring attention to the Septuagint. The IOSCS website hosts a wealth of information regarding the Septuagint and related subjects, including lists of recommended critical editions, of modern translations, of internet resources, and links to the journal Septuagint and Cognate Studies, and various other things.

The IOSCS is also responsible for one of the most useful tools for a student seeking to learn about the Septuagint: A New English Translation of the Septuagint, published in late 2007, which I’ve mentioned favorably here before. Tyler also recommends (as do I!) two further volumes for the introductory student:

Invitation to the Septuagint by Karen Jobes and Moisés Silva (Baker Academic, 2000), and

Septuaginta: editio altera, edited by Alfred Rahlfs; revised and corrected by Robert Hanhart (Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2006).

For those who are interested in how the Septuagint compares to the Hebrew Masoretic Text, a truly amazing tool is available from the IOSCS: a parallel presentation in transliteration of the Greek and (where available) Hebrew texts. That’s some awesome primary data, prepared and maintained (along with other presentations, like a morphologically tagged LXX text, and a presentation of LXX variants) by IOSCS members. There is also the very interesting work done by Emanuel Tov. He covers the interrelation between the MT and LXX in his Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (Augsburg Fortress, 2001). Much more depth in Emanuel Tov, The Text-Critical Use of the Septuagint in Biblical Research. Completely Revised and Expanded Third Edition (Eisenbrauns, 2015). [I originally mentioned here the second edition, which is available on Amazon and elsewhere). A good online source, aside from the IOSCS, is Joel Kalvesmaki’s The Septuagint Online.

As these various sources noted above will explain in more detail, the Septuagint is an umbrella term for the first widespread Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible and related books. In more technical usage, the term Septuagint applies only to the Pentateuch, the Books of Moses, which were traditionally translated in Alexandria at the behest of Ptolemy II Philadephus by a group of seventy or seventy-two Jewish translators. Thus the septuaginta, Latin for “seventy”, or its numeric representation LXX, or as in Greek, εβδομηκοντα, or its numeric representation Ο’. The other texts are referred to as the Old Greek versions. But “Septuagint” is commonly understood to include the Septuagint proper and the Old Greek texts. The vast majority of Old Testament citations in the New Testament are fromThe Septuagint is also the Old Testament of the Early Church, and is still the Old Testament for Greek Orthodox Christians, and all other Orthodox Christians, whose versions were translated from it or edited to conform to it. And while St Jerome, in his work translating the Hebrew Bible into Latin, was adamant about the value of the Hebrew text, he also repeatedly and explicitly stated that he had no intention of displacing the Latin translation of the Septuagint in common use, as it was universally recognized as the Old Testament of the Church. This comes up often in the Prologues to his various translations, which prologues or prefaces I’ve translated and made available here. Of course, St Jerome’s protests, we know in hindsight, were in vain. The Latin Vulgate Old Testament became the Old Testament of the West by the end of the first millennium, and remained so until the Reformation. Even so, the Septuagint has always had its admirers, and continues to garner more of them.

Lestovka

Today, a lestovka arrived in the mail! “What is a lestovka?,” many people will be thinking. It is essentially a loop of braided leather that is used for counting prayers, similar to the more well-known Eastern Orthodox prayer rope (Greek komvoschini, or Russian vervitsa), and more distantly similar to the Roman Catholic rosary. The lestovka is most often associated with the Old Believer Russian Orthodox community, though it is also sometimes used by Russian Orthodox in general, though not as commonly as the vervitsa. They were much more common among Russians more than a century ago, I understand.

A more detailed description is in order. There is a fine description, with several pictures of beautiful, older lestovki, here. The lestovka is composed of several strips of leather which are intricately looped through slits, the loops also enclosing small cylindrical pieces of wood or other material, such that the loops all create “steps” or “rungs” (babochki) which traditionally reflect the heavenly laddder seen by the Patriarch Jacob, as well as the Ladder of Divine Ascent of St John Climacus. Here is a picture of the “rungs” (on the left) and the back (on the right) of the lestovka, showing the interleaved layers of leather. It’s along the rungs, of course, that one counts prayers. I have to say, the lestovka is both a lovely piece of folk art, and a fascinating piece of tradition, with its various rungs/ridges being useful for keeping count of repetitions of prayers in various liturgical services. Having something to keep track of which “Lord, have mercy” out of forty one is on at the moment is certainly helpful.

babochki
(click for a larger image)

At the end of the loop are four triangular pieces of leather, called lapostki, which create the immediately recognizable, traditional form of the lestovka, though some other shapes have been known to be used here. The lapostki are generally decorated in some manner, sometimes even including patches from worn vestments, altar cloths, and such. They are often embroidered, and are usually sewn together, though (as in the case with my own) are sometimes glued.

lapostki
(click for a larger image)

The traditional symbolism of the various elements of the lestovka is elaborate. The four lapostki represent the Four Evangelists. The stitching around them represents the teaching of the Gospel. Bound inside the lapostki, up near the attachment to the rest of the lestovka, are seven small “movable pieces” which represent the seven Mysteries of the Church. There are then three large rungs at either end of the lestovka, just above the lapostki, which, counting the other three large rungs, represent the nine Orders of Angels described by St Dionysius the Areopagite in The Celestial Hierarchy. Returning to the beginning of the rungs, immediately after the initial three large rungs there is a space (representing the earth) and then twelve small rungs, representing the Twelve Apostles. There is then a large rung. Then follow 38 small rungs, representing the 36 weeks and two days in which Jesus gestated in the womb of Mary, followed by another large rung. Then there are 33 small rungs, representing the number of years that Jesus lived on earth, followed by another large rung. Then come 17 small rungs, indicating the seventeen prophets who prophesied the coming of Jesus. Then comes another space, representing heaven, and one comes to the ending three large rungs, and thence to the lapostki again. There are a total of 100 small rungs. As noted above, however, the way the 100 rungs are divided is particularly useful in a liturgical context for counting the repetition of prayers, and likely the origin of the divisions, with the above traditional explanations being secondary.

The prayer most often used with the lestovka, as with the prayer rope, is The Jesus Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner. Any prayer may be used, of course. There are different traditions regarding which prayers to use at which points along the lestovka (similar to Roman Catholic rosary usage), for the large rungs at the beginning and end, and for the three large rungs in the midst of the small rungs.

I purchased the lestovka pictured above from The Church of the Nativity, an Old Rite parish in Erie, Pennsylvania, from this page. They are a bit expensive (I got a leather one), but they are beautifully made, all by hand. The only change I would ask for is that the lapostki be sewn together rather than glued, but this is minor. The rungs themselves are very nicely done, and very comfortable in the hand. The lestovka is not as compact as a 100 knot prayer rope, which is quite easily stuffed in a pocket, but it’s still quite compactible, as well.

The lestovka is a part of Eastern Orthodox Christianity’s history of pious practice among the laity. In this case, like the prayer ropes, the practice is one shared with monastics, with the number of rungs on the lestovka being designed for use in those services originating with monasteries. Traditional and practical!

Something clicked at last

I forget where I read it today, but someone quoted Hebrews 2.14-15:

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same nature, that through death he might destroy him who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong bondage.

Suddenly, I understood that italic section above, verse 15. I don’t know why I didn’t grasp it before, as it seems so obvious (and probably is to everyone else!). It really was something of a revelation to me. Here’s what came to mind.

We often live our lives doing all kinds of strange things, sinful things most of them, because we are afraid of death, trying to get in as much “life” as possible. These sinful practices are a kind of bondage in themselves, which is something repeatedly emphasized throughout the writings of the Church Fathers. Ironically, this grasping at life so-called is really only grasping at death, which is the wages of sin, as we’re told elsewhere. Not only does the poor person, inspired in these things by the evil one, think he’s avoiding a kind of death through non-indulgence of some compulsion or other while actually piling on more and more death, but also all this, without the intervention of repentance, keeps that person from the necessary preparation for an eternity of life in joy in the presence of God.

The author of Hebrews, whoever that was, had a deep understanding of what we now call psychology. The therapy anonymously prescribed is redemption and sanctification, resulting in the transfer of the prisoner from the dank, reeking dungeons of the evil one to the wards, peaceful and sunlit, of the hospital where all patients are healed: the Church, the Body of Christ.

Sebastian the Serendipitous

I recommend to my readers (particularly those who are of a mind with me regarding the thoughts in my post on wonder in encountering the Bible) the purchase and attentive reading of Sebastian Brock’s The Luminous Eye: The Spiritual World Vision of Saint Ephrem the Syrian (revised edition, Cistercian Publications, 1992). In it, Professor Brock introduces the reader to (as the title says) the spiritual world vision of Ephrem the Syrian, providing numerous translated excerpts from Ephrem’s hymns as illustration. The result is either a new or a better appreciation of brilliance of Ephrem the Syrian as thinker, theologian, and author. What is so fascinating about this little book is that it reads as though Brock and Ephrem wrote it together, the text flows so well. An example regarding three forms of theology follows:

Theology, like any other intellectual pursuit, can take on three different forms, depending on the attitude of mind present in the person setting out on the path of enquiry.

(The first form:)

[T]he mind may seek to dominate and subjugate the object of its enquiry. Such an attitude has characterized much scientific and other enquiry from the time of Francis Bacon onwards.

(The second form:)

[T]he mind sets out to study the object of its enquiry in as dispassionate and “scientific” a way as possible.

Turn me back to Your teaching:
       I wanted to stand back,
but I saw that I became the poorer.
       For the soul does not get any benefit
except through converse with You.
(Hymns on Faith 32:1)

(The third form:)

The third approach, which is Ephrem’s, is that of engagement, an engagement above all of love and wonder. Whereas the second approach involves only a one-way movement, from the mind to the object of enquiry, this third approach is a two-way affair, involving a continual interaction. Only by means of such an interaction of love can human knowledge of divine truth grow. Ephrem continues in the same hymn:

Whenever I have meditated upon You
      I have acquired a veritable treasure from You;
Whatever aspect of You I have contemplated,
      a stream has flowed from You.
There is no way in which I can contain it:

Your fountain, Lord, is hidden
      from the person who does not thirst for You;
Your treasury seems empty
      to the person who rejects You.
Love is the treasurer
      of Your heavenly treasure trove.
(Hymns of Faith 32:2-3) (Brock, 43-44)

It’s fascinating to realize here that, while the subject here is theology, the issue Ephrem describes is that of epistemology and engagement. Ephrem describes an overarching appreciation (expressed later in the above-quoted hymn as love and wonder) for not only the author of the work he is studying—whether it be Scriptures, the world, or the various aspects of salvific theology proper—but also for the work itself. It is love of the subject matter which opens up understanding of it to Ephrem, which leads to greater love for the subject itself, and for its author. Who cannot recognize themselves in that?

As an example, let’s consider the relationship of an expert scholar and a reader. The reader has always learned from the works of this scholar, so the reader has come to appreciate not only the work, but also the person of the scholar. The reader comes to spend more time with the works of the scholar than works of other scholars, and the reader is repaid for these efforts. The reader’s engagement leads to a richer learning experience. Other readers who, for whatever reason, don’t engage with the scholar’s work end up the poorer. Or, as Ephrem says above:

Your fountain, Lord, is hidden
      from the person who does not thirst for You;
Your treasury seems empty
      to the person who rejects You.
Love is the treasurer
      of Your heavenly treasure trove.

Well. In any case, this is a thought-provoking and fascinating book. Highly recommended!

Wonder

The result of my studies annoys me. Sometimes, anyway. Reading the Bible is hardly the enjoyment of literature that it should be anymore, but becomes instead a critique of the translation, a mental retroversion to the Hebrew and/or Greek involved, mental notes on historical illumination and literary parallels, and all manner of distractions. The wonder is often gone. I hate that.

Just the other day, I read the Book of Jonah. It’s such a short book amongst the Twelve Prophets, it takes only a few minutes to read through. But what a powerful book! It’s a story that has struck people through the ages, and was a popular artistic subject in early Christianity (Jonah either going into or coming out of a sea monster; or Jonah resting under his vine). And it’s the taking of that story at face value that gives it such power, as a real tale of something that happened to a real prophet of a real Israel, having dealt with a real sea and real giant fish, and a real city of Nineveh. Where does my mind go? Oh, to thinking about its setting in a period of Assyrian weakness just before the Neo-Assyrian empire expanded its border at the expense of any number of smaller nations; to thinking about the city Nineveh at that time, how it was not the magnificent place that Sennacherib would begin to make it, and how the description and the book’s writing really must therefore date to the seventh century if not later; to thinking this book’s popularity may partly be due to its having the smallest vocabulary of all the LXX books, yet still being a cracking good tale; to thinking of “gourd” versus “vine” and Augustine and Jerome. There is too much noise. This is not reading, but something else, and it is certainly not joyful or enlightening. I have to force myself to step back and turn off that running commentary, that mental footnoting, imposing silence. The silence is necessary.

Then the story unfolds, and wonderment with it. The darkening skies and the heaving sea. Threatening waves and a flimsy boat. Kindly sailors who don’t want to throw Jonah in. Sinking, sinking, “Full fathom five Thy prophet lies….” Seaweed wraps a drowning head. Then a salvific gulp. And this wayward prophet’s last act before dying is prayer in the belly of a huge fish. And that, his death, is important to recall. He did not, as did Gepetto in Disney’s Pinocchio, live inside the fish. He died. He was dead for three days. And then he was alive again. This was “the sign of Jonah” recalled in the Gospels: three days dead, then alive again. Jonah lives again, still in the belly of the fish, and prays again, and then [barf] he’s freed from the fish. His last act and first act were both prayer: a lesson. And oh, oh, oh, look at Jonah’s “righteous” anger, and what lesson do we gain from that, the tale of an anger that thinks it knows better than does God? And what a strange, but entirely merciful ending: “And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?” Confused or ignorant people deserve care, not anger, and certainly not destruction, though that would attend Nineveh in time, which is something that seems to be inexplicably hanging in the air throughout the book.

It’s time to take back the wonder.