| Orthodox Dating Ordeals I once told a friend of mine that being between relationships is a little bit like treading water: it’s so tempting to grab onto whoever comes along next, even though it might mean you both drown. This alone time could also be what I often refer to as “An Orthodox Dating Desert Wasteland.” It may be lonely, but it serves as a good time to reflect and grow; after all, how many saints have fled to the desert to seek God? I had my entire life planned out. I was going to grind my way through an accelerated master’s program for the year, then move out to the Midwest to be closer to my long-term boyfriend (let’s call him Sam). We’d get engaged shortly thereafter, be married the following year, and somehow start a family while Sam was doing his residency for medical school. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was a plan, and I was determined to follow it. And then, of course, it all came crumbling down. Sam, a Roman Catholic, was refusing to even think about Orthodoxy as a way of life. After two years, he was forcing me to choose: stay with him and hope on very slim chances that, somewhere very far down the line, he would become Orthodox, or leave him and venture into the unknown, alone and without a plan. I cried for a long time. I cried because someone I loved didn’t love me back (how could he if he didn’t love Orthodoxy?). I cried because I no longer had a plan. I cried because I had to say goodbye. I cried because I was worried. I was worried because the older I get, the smaller my dating pool gets: many of my peers are getting married and even more are giving up on waiting until marriage to become one in flesh. But how can I worry when I know that God loves me and values me more than the birds of the field that He feeds and the lilies of the field that He clothes? (Matt 6:25-26) Well, it doesn’t help that society (especially including the likes of the infamous Carrie Bradshaw and the ranks of elderly women in my church) makes it very clear that “single” is not synonymous with “fabulous.” I think I cried the hardest, however, not because of my own pain or fear, but because of the painful divide between our churches that makes my heart ache so deeply. |
| After all of this, it seems to me that the long-term benefits of waiting to be with someone who is Orthodox outweigh the short term benefits of being with someone who is not. I once told a friend of mine that being between relationships is a little bit like treading water: it’s so tempting to grab onto whoever comes along next, even though it might mean you both drown. This alone time could also be what I often refer to as “An Orthodox Dating Desert Wasteland.” It may be lonely, but it serves as a good time to reflect and grow; after all, how many saints have fled to the desert to seek God? However, God (or the devil, I’m not quite sure which yet) also throws out some occasional mirages of men masquerading as the type of man I want to spend my life with. I’m hoping that spending more time in my “desert” will allow me, like the ascetic saints, to improve my discernment, that I may learn to keep my “heart in all watchfulness” (Proverbs 4:22). I could pick up almost any magazine and learn “ten tricks to meet the man of my dreams” or “how to be the one guys want.” So then how do I reconcile society’s enduring fear of being alone with Christ’s instructions to “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God” (Matt 7:33) in order to be a worthy recipient of His gifts? It’s easy to say that “patience is a virtue” for things like waiting in line at the grocery store or the ticket counter, but not so easy when you’re eager to grow closer to God through a relationship with another. My parish priest introduced me to the works of St. Isaac when I was struggling with my fresh wounds. One passage I hold particularly dear reads, “If God is slow to grant your request and you do not receive what you ask for promptly, do not be grieved, for you are not wiser that God. When this happens to you…it may be because you inner state is too childish by comparison with the magnitude of the thing you have asked for.” Perhaps St. Isaac is right and I am still too spiritually immature to be entirely capable of truly appreciating the fullness of a relationship with another person that would bring me closer to God. So until God deems me ready, I’ll be walking through the desert, trying to avoid those mirages, and trying to remember that I am never alone, because I will always have God. |
| While having children isn’t the sole purpose of marriage in the eyes of the Orthodox Church, it is something that I, God-willing, hope to do someday. I realized that if we had followed through on our plan, Sam would be a trophy husband next to me at Liturgy, but going alone to Catholic Mass. I could’ve raised our children in the Orthodox Church by myself, but how confusing would it be for them to see their parents taking Communion at different places, celebrating Pascha twice, or going to multiple services for Christmas? How hard would it be for me to teach them the love and compassion so prevalent in our Church that seems, for me, to be so often lacking in that of Rome while their father stood idly by? It can’t be that bad–people do it all the time! I mean, my parents are still doing it, and I turned out just fine! But here’s the problem: I know firsthand that splitting a family down the middle with faith creates an ever expanding plethora of problems. Don’t get me wrong: it was cool to get two Easter baskets as a kid, or to open a few presents between the two Christmas Eve services, but the older I get, the more confusing it becomes. It’s incredibly heartbreaking to know that every bit more I love Orthodoxy pains my mom, who is Episcopalian. She very quickly took my breakup with Sam over our faith differences as a personal attack on her: was I saying that she didn’t really love my dad or me because she’s not Orthodox? Did it mess up my life that she didn’t convert? Did it make me love her any less? What did I mean when I said that it broke my heart that someone wouldn’t want to become Orthodox? Clearly, the problems existed beyond my own relationship with Sam. All of my mom’s questions left me asking my own: does inter-faith marriage serve to heal some of the fissions within the Church by demonstrating that love indeed “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (I Corinthians 13:7)? Or does it act instead like water that freezes and further splits the cracks by creating divisions within families? And how does all of this relate to people who aren’t so invested in their faiths? |
| My heart no longer aches so much from losing Sam, recognizing now, in my 20/20 hindsight, that a life with him would have been less than fulfilling. My heart still aches, however, at the fact that I had to make that decision; at the fact that the divides among our churches can run so deep. Was it worth it to give up someone with a faith so theologically similar, who was still waiting for marriage (unlike most people I know), and who wanted the same things in life as I did? Well, I guess that depends. The whole purpose of marriage is to bring each other closer to God, right? Did Sam bring me closer to God? I mean, we could say the Lord’s Prayer together, but as far as growing closer to God together goes? I’m not sure. When the great religious debates first started between us, I began to read more about our faiths, to ask questions that I had never thought of before, and to pray (albeit selfishly) harder than I probably ever had. When it all fell apart, I found solace in the knowledge that God loves me and has a plan for me, even if I can’t see it just yet. Ever since then, I’ve learned so much more about my faith than I possibly could have while we were together, dancing on eggshells around the subject. Now I’m free to join as many church groups as I’d like, to spend my time meeting new Orthodox people and to participate in church events instead of planning long-distance visits or scheduling phone-calls. My theological discussions no longer morph into bitter, circular arguments, and I am near to the overwhelming support of my parish family. So Sam certainly brought me closer to God, just not in the way that I was anticipating. Has he grown any closer to God as a result of our split? I don’t know. We talk from time to time, but bringing up faith is like pushing on a scar that hasn’t quite healed yet: still too painful to touch. As ironic as it would be, I still hope that Sam (as well as everyone else, of course) someday discovers the Truth and Beauty of Orthodoxy. |
| Craig S. Keener 4. Social Contexts THE TENUOUSNESS OF PAST HISTORICAL reconstructions of the Johannine community, along with the difficulties in inferring the author " s intention from a document, warn us against an overly detailed reconstruction of the situations the author originally sought to address. Indeed, the life-setting of a Gospel is not as central or as easy to reconstruct as the life-setting of one of Paul " s letters. As implied in our discussion of genre and in the work " s claims to the Paracletés inspiration, the Gospels are «foundation documents for religious communities … more analogous [in that sense] to a systematic theology, albeit in narrative form,» than to an occasional letter. It thus may reflect potential as well as current situations. 1118 As with most other biographies, its author may have hoped for a wider circulation, hence requiring of implied readers less locally specific information than presupposed in epistles. 1119 At the same time, we can make some statements about the general milieu (such as the tradition " s Jewishness or the usefulness of broader elements of the ancient Mediterranean milieu) to a very high degree of probability, and some other statements about the sort of situation the Gospel addresses (namely, conflict with a synagogue community) to a large degree of probability. 1120 Before we begin examining the milieu in general, we must consider matters of the Fourth Gospel " s date and provenance which can affect our reconstruction of the most relevant social contexts for interpretation. Date For the most part, Luke Timothy Johnson is correct that scholarly consensus concerning the dating of the Gospels depends on inferences about literary dependence. 1121 Nevertheless, John " s literary freedom has probably made his own Sitz im Leben more transparent than that of the other gospels. While I frankly admit that my dating of the other canonical gospels remains conjectural, I think the evidence is somewhat stronger for dating John. With most scholars, I favor a date in the mid-nineties, during Domitians reign. |
| Thus, there was in this sense only one Synodal condemnation and thereby no necessity of mentioning more than one Synod in c. 148. We can suggest, then, that the historical reference in this chapter does not preclude a dating of the Capita 150 after the year 1347 . Meyendorff also argued that Gregory " s counsel to flee the κοινωνα of the heretics applies to the situation prior to the Council of 1347. After that, he would have called for unity with the Church. 154 Although the opposition was dealt a near mortal blow in 1347, there were survivors: principally, Neophytos of Philippes, Joseph of Ganos, Matthew of Ephesus, Theodore Dexios and Nikephoros Gregoras. 155 The latter had begun to write against Palamite theology as early as the winter of 1346/47. It would still then be possible to speak of a κοινωνα of the heretics even after 1347. Unless some further evidence should come to light, the way now seems clear enough to permit the dating of the Capita 150 to the years 1349–1350. C. Conclusion From 1341 to 1347, during the second phase of the Palamite controversy, Gregory Akindynos was the dominant figure among the anti-Palamites. 156 Without his intervention the controversy would almost certainly have died out after Barlaam’s return to Italy. The Calabrian monk had presented a most dangerous challenge to orthodox theology. His acquaintance with philosophy and theology was considerable and his skill in logical argumentation surpassed the abilities of most of the Byzantine literati. Although thoroughly Greek, his South Italian origins made him something of a foreigner to the strictures of Byzantine traditionalism. Perhaps for this reason his thinking shows certain un-Byzantine qualities of originality and innovation. But in the sphere of theology innovation is just another word for heresy. In comparison with the wily Calabrian, Gregory Akindynos was clearly the lesser intellect. He is a good example of the formalistic theological traditionalism of most Byzantine intellectuals. |
| Lpz., 1867; Ryssel C. V. De Elohistae Pentateuchici sermone. Lipsiae, 1878; Stade B. Lehrbuch der hebräischen Grammatik. Lpz., 1879. Tl. 1: Schriftlehre, Lautlehre, Formenlehre; König E. Historisch-kritisches Lehrgebäude der hebräischen Sprache mit steter Beziehung auf Qimchi und die anderen Autoritäten. Lpz., 1881–1897, 1979r. 3 Bde; Driver S. R. Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament. Edinb., 1891; Siegfried C., Stade B. Hebräisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testaments. Lpz., 1893; Nöldeke T. Die Semitischen Sprachen. Lpz., 18992; Brown F., Driver S. R., Briggs C. A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament with an Appendix Containing Biblical Aramaic. Boston, 1906; Krautlein J. Die sprachlichen Verschiedenheiten in den Hexateuchquellen. Lpz., 1908; Kropat A. Die Syntax des Autors der Chronik. Giessen, 1909; Brockelmann C. Grundriss der vergleichenden Grammatik der semitischen Sprachen. B., 1908–1913. 2 Bde; Bauer L., Leander P. Historische Grammatik der hebräischen Sprache des Alten Testamentes. Halle, 1922, 1962r; Joüon P. Grammaire de l’hébreu biblique. R., 1923; idem. A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew/Transl. and rev. by T. Muraoka. R., 1991. 2 vol.; Bergstrasser G. Einführung in die semitischen Sprachen. Münch., 1928; idem. Hebräische Grammatik. Lpz., 1918–19292, 1995r. 3 Bde; Albright W. F. The Old Testament and the Canaanite Language and Literature//CBQ. 1945. Vol. 7. P. 5–31; Koehler L., Baumgartner W. Lexicon in Veteris Testamenti libros. Leiden, 1953, 19582, 1967– 1995 3; Sperber A. A Grammar of Masoretic Hebrew: A Gen. Introd. to the pre-Masoretic Bible. Copenhagen, 1959; Dahood M. J. Psalms 1–3. Garden City, 1966–1970. 3 vol.; Ben-David A. The Biblical Language and the Rabbinic Language. Tel Aviv, 1967 (на иврите); Theologisches Handwörterbuch zum Alten Testament/Hrsg. E. Jenni, C. Westermann. Münch., 1971–1976. 2 Bde; Robertson D. Linguistic Evidence in Dating Early Hebrew Poetry. Missoula, 1972; Hurvitz A. Biblical Hebrew in Transition: A Study in Post-Exilic Hebrew and its Implications for the Dating of Psalms. |
| Interestingly, however, all four synchronisms are in perfect harmony with the dates arrived at from the other lines of evidences that have been discussed. These synchronisms to the Egyptian chronology, therefore, add yet another line of evidence to thêothers, which point consistently to 587 B.C.E. as the definitive date for the destruction of Jerusalem. Summary and conclusion Seven lines of evidence have been presented above against any possible dating of the destruction of Jerusalem to the year 607 B.C.E., all of which lines of evidence agree in dating that event twenty years later. At least four of these lines of evidence are clearly independent of each other. Consider first the three which give evidence of interdependence: (1) Early historians, the NeoBabylonian chronicles, and the Uruk kinglist We first saw that in the third century B.C.E., Babylonian priest Berossus wrote a history of Babylonia, quoted from by later historians, both in the B.C.E. and early C.E. periods. The validity of the dates presented by Berossus in his history is evidenced by their accurate reflection of historical material now available on ancient cuneiform tablets unearthed in Babylon, particularly the NeoBabylonian Chronicles (a series of historical vignettes setting out certain episodes relating to the Babylonian empire, notably records of kingly succesion and of military campaigns waged), and also the Babylonian kinglists (particularly the one known as the Uruk kinglist) which list the Babylonian rulers by name along with the years of their reign. Likewise with the source known as the Royal Canon, a list of Babylonian rulers, which, though only fully extant in manuscripts of Ptolemy’s Handy Tables dated to the eighth century C.E. and in later manuscripts, seems clearly to have been the common source relied upon by astronomer Claudius Ptolemy (70161 C.E.) and by earlier scholars, such as Hipparchus of the second century B.C.E., when these dealt with and dated events of the NeoBabylonian period. Though the Royal Canon evidently drew upon sources common to those employed by Berossus – that is, the ancient Neo Babylonian chronicles and kinglists – the order and forms of the names of kings found in it differ from his presentation sufficiently to indicate that it is a record developed mdependendy of his writings. |
| The original church, which was made of wood and may have suffered during the battle, later had a side-chapel dedicated to St. Nicholas dating from 1636. By 1657 the church is indicated as being made of stone with an additional side-chapel dedicated to St. Theodore Stratelates (known since 1625 and later dismantled). In 1696 the church underwent a renewal and a new antimins (a rectangular cloth upon which the Divine Liturgy is served and showing an image of Christ in the burial tomb and with relics of saints sewn into it) was presented to the church. The eighteenth century saw the parish church of St. Catherine's undergo major changes and reconstruction. The style was no longer that of the medieval onion domes and elaborate Oriental low slung gables. The order of the day in architecture, inherited from the Westernization that Tsar Peter the Great had subjected his vast empire to, was European baroque and rococo, pavilion gardens and aristocratic elegance. This tradition was continued by the Empress Catherine II the Great, who, though German by nationality, had married into the Russian dynasty, adopted the Orthodox faith and inherited the throne in 1762 after a palace intrigue. Catherine never held Moscow in high esteem, condemning it as 'the seat of sloth... full of symbols of fanaticism, churches, miraculous icons, priests and convents, side by side with thieves and brigands'. She visited this (in her view) semi-Asiatic city only a handful of times during her lifetime, preferring the vibrant court life of the northern capital St. Petersburg. Nevertheless, her reign left its mark on the city, not least of all through the new church dedicated to her patron saint Catherine of Sinai and executed by her favourite architect Karl Blank. At present the parish of St. Catherine's consists of two churches, the older summer ('cold', because it does not have heating) church in honour of the saint herself, and the winter ('warm', because it has heating) church, dating from the mid-nineteenth century. |
| In their attempts at defending the Watch Tower Society’s chronology, some Witnesses, both in the United States and Norway, have exploited not only such copying, reading, and scribal errors in cuneiform texts, but also the dates on some documents that seem to create overlaps of a few weeks or months between the reigns of some of the NeoBabylonian rulers. For this reason it seems necessary to take a closer look at these problems. Modern copying and reading errors As Mr. C. B. F. Walker at the British Museum points out, “modern readers frequently incorrectly read numbers and month names on Babylonian tablets.” 515 sometimes misread by modern scholars. Since dating within the Babylonian period is based on regnal years (rather than an era dating) the name of the king involved is obviously crucial. Thus on one published text the translation referred to Babylonian ruler “LabashiMarduk’s 4 th year.’ 516 that the text actually referred to Assyrian king Shamashshumurkin. 517 (There is a wide difference in our alphabetical spelling of the two names, but one must remember these were written in cuneiform signs which, in this case, were much more easily mistakable.) A similar error in reading another tablet resulted in reference to the 21st year of Sinsharishkun, the next to the last Assyrian king. 518 this damaged section led to the conclusion the reference was more probably to Babylonian king Nabuaplausur (Nabopolassar). 519 Scribal errors Not all the odd dates are modern errors, however. It is well established that the Persian king Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, ruled for eight years (529/28522/21 B.C.E.). Yet one text from his reign (BM 30650) seemed to be dated to Cambyses’ “11 th year”. At first the text caused much discussion among scholars, but it was finally concluded that it refers to Cambyses’ first year. The number “1” had been written over an original “10,” which the scribe had not been able to completely erase, resulting in a number that easily could be misread as “11”. 520 |
|
|
