Unhappy New Year, O friends! Here passes the glorious season of Light into the season of Darkness. I hope that we are all paying the proper homage to Cromm Cruaich by sacrificing a third of our local, healthy children. Failing to do so, as we are all aware, will lead to a very harsh winter for ourselves and for our cattle. For it was on this day that the Fomorian King Morc delivered a monumental slaughter upon the people of Nemed, purging them from the land of Eire forever. The valiant struggle of the people of Nemed is not to be forgotten, though, as they defied the oppression of the Fomors in refusing to sacrifice two-thirds of their children, instead facing the doomed battle that resulted in their wholesale slaughter. Thus won the Fomors, the gods of Darkness. With the coming of Beltaine, however, the Tuatha de Dannan would arrive, ushering in a new age of Light, and this is to be remembered throughout the wintertime. Though on this day the gods of Darnkess wax strong over the gods of Light, the gods of Light shall see victory again, and we shall feast on their plentiful bounty with the coming of the sun.
Alas, tonight the faeries and the pixies are out, not least among them the Samhanach, and these demand immediate appeasement. Thus one must consult the local Bard or Druid to find out what rites and libations are demanded by the local bogeys. Surely you know where to find the Boreadae, and heed their lamenting songs, accompanied on the Irish harp or the crwth* or the pipes. They shall have the bonfires lit, and their wicker and bone cages shall hold their own, grand sacrifices of man and cattle alike. With the combined efforts of each individual and of the Boreadae, after the bloodbath we can surely awake in the morning unafraid of the faeries and assured of the well-being of the cattle for the duration of the season of Darkness.
------------
*That is actually how it is spelled. Apparently the earliest violin-type instruments are Welsh. I found it when looking for interesting musical terms in my music dictionary today.
31 October 2008
29 October 2008
The Development of Byzantine Orthodoxy through Ecumenical Councils
Preface: I just want to say that I wrote this in five and one half hours today, from 11:00 am to 4:30 pm. This is a record-shattering event. Someone should erect a monument. I should also note that it is due at 6:30 pm today, this same day.
------------
In the first decades of the fourth century, the Emperor Constantine would alter history forever. Not only did he found the “New Rome” of Constantinople, soon to be the heart of the Byzantine Empire, but he also was the first Christian emperor of Rome. Christianity and Byzantium, then, were linked from the very origins of Byzantine prominence, and it is certainly a fruitful venture to observe the concurrent development of Christian orthodoxy after its acquisition of state support and the devleompent of this new city, founded for a Christian empire. Chronologically, this search for orthodoxy can first be seen in the circumstances surrounding the Council of Nicaea in 325. The developments of the fourth century, however, led to the Council of Constantinople in 381. The First Council of Ephesus in 431 came next, and the Second “Robber” Council of Ephesus took place in 449. At last, the monumental Council of Chalcedon would leave its long-standing mark on orthodoxy in 451. It is through the ecumenical councils that the development of orthodoxy can be most definitively seen.
Before the Council of Nicaea, Constantine saw it fit to find a settlement between his theologically discordant subjects. This meant dealing with the Donatists and the Arians. First of all, the Donatists were products of the Great Persecution of Diocletian. Donatus was a Carthaginian priest who would not tolerate the reinstatement of those who lapsed under persecution, and so he and his followers responded to the latter practice when it arose under Archbishop Caecilian of Carthage, by declaring Donatus archbishop (Gregory 53). This left Carthage with a schism between two archbishops, so when Constantine tried in 313 to restore the property of the Church in North Africa, each was a claimant. Initially Constantine encouraged the parties to come to a peaceful solution between themselves, but when this failed he was persuaded against the Donatists by the councils he called for guidance on the matter, and he used the army to persecute them, which itself was an utter failure (53). It was the case, then, that though the North African church remained split, the beginnings of a state-linked orthodoxy had appeared with Constantine’s councils, and this orthodoxy was opposed to Donatism. So much for Constantine’s first attempt at unifying the Christians of his domain.
A decade later in 325, Arianism was highly controversial in Alexandria, which had fallen into Constantine’s hands with the defeat of Licinius, a victory that had unified the empire once again. Arianism can be simply defined by the belief that Christ, as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, was created by the Father, and that He is less fully God than God the Father (Gregory 54). In fact, it was the furor of this controversy that compelled Licinius to resume persecution of the Church in 320, which was itself the impetus for Constantine’s conquest of the Eastern Empire. Still desiring unity among his Christian subjects, Constantine reacted to this issue much the same way as he did to the Donatists: he implored the parties to get along. Failing to see this realized, Constantine decided it would be best to seek unity with an ecumenical council, calling bishops from across the empire (54).
The Council of Nicaea met at the aforesaid location in 324 in order to deal with the Arian controversy. Though it had been Constantine’s intention in calling the council to find unity in the universal church of his empire, the bishops themselves immediately set about excluding their Arian colleagues from the orthodoxy they were to establish (Frend 140). Constantine, however, was not to be stopped by this resolve, seeking then to find as inclusive a doctrine as he could. Thus Constantine proposed the use of the term homoousios, denoting that the Father and the Son are “of the same substance,” and this was accepted (140). The Nicene Creed was formulated on this basis, and Arianism was condemned as a heresy, but this did not stop Constantine from showing plenty of favor to the Arians, eventually allowing for the reinstatement of Arius (who suddenly and mysteriously died immediately beforehand) and being clinically baptized by the Arian bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia (Treadgold 23-24). The conflict between imperial designs of unity and ecclesiastical politics is plainly evident even from the beginnings of the Christian empire, which might be emphasized by the fact that the questioning of homoousios was largely delayed until Constantine’s passing (Frend 140).
Almost sixty years would pass before the next great council, that at Constantinople in 381, would be called. In that time, the empire would see its final pagan emperor, Julian “the Apostate,” who ruled from 361 until 363. It was he who undid many of the policies set down by Constantine, severing the link betwixt church and state which, for better or for worse, would not return with the strength it had heretofore known. His successor, the Christian Jovian, would merely eliminate Julian’s anti-Christian legislation (Gregory 76). This indeed turned out to be the last hurrah of Roman paganism, for as the remainder of the fourth century progressed, Christianity would unquestionably become the prevailing view of the empire (90). Now in the West, Nicene Christianity was generally stable, but in the East, the Arians still opposed the pronouncements at Nicaea, and Theodosius I, a Spaniard by birth, was very much a Westerner when he was proclaimed emperor in 379 (Frend 175). Coming to Constantinople, then, the Arian controversy was seen as something that needed attention, hence an edict that delivered its “death blow” in early 381, successfully demanding and enforcing Nicene Christianity, except among the Germans, where the missionary bishop Ulfilas was converting Goths in droves to Arian Christianity (175-76). Just a few months later, Theodosius saw the need to call an ecumenical council at Constantinople, which would denounce Arianism among other heresies.
The Council of Constantinople was called in 381 mostly to deal with Arianism, but it highlights above all else the growing conflict between Eastern and Western Christianity, an unfortunate side effect of Christianity’s rise to prominence in the empire. Whether the opposed attitudes of East and West are attributed to administrative divide, linguistic divide, or some other set of causes, there is no denying this friction after 381. The conflict at Constantinople pertained largely to the respective authorities of the bishops of Rome, Constantinople, and Alexandria. In the end, though, it was the Alexandrians who were disaffected, thanks to two canons in particular, one preventing meddling in other ecclesiastical provinces, the other granting the Bishop of Constantinople “primacy of honor after the Bishop of Rome” (Frend 176). Such became the relationship among the cities for decades to come. Of course, this no to neglect the denunciation of heresies like Arianism, which was definitively achieved with the backing of the emperor (Treadgold 29), something Constantine had not provided at Nicaea. The Council of Constantinople enjoyed widespread acceptance for its specific pronouncements, in a sense confirming the Council of Nicaea as being orthodox, and this was its success, but it provided no permanent peace for the church, especially not with the Alexandrians left as they were.
How appropriate, then, that Bishop Cyril of Alexandria would be the instigator of the next round of councils, from the two at Ephesus to their resolution at Chalcedon in 451. Arianism, having been effectively purged from the empire, was no longer the arch-heresy, but the questions of Christology were far from resolved. Monophysitism was on the rise in the east, thanks to its opposite extreme, Nestorianism. Because the first Council of Ephesus in 431 was rooted in the Nestorian controversy, a summary of Nestorianism is warranted. Nestorius was appointed Bishop of Constantinople by Theodosius II in 428, and it did not take him long to raise the ire of Cyril of Alexandria. The controversy arose when Nestorius objected to the use of the term Theotokos, or “God-bearer,” to refer to the Virgin Mary. Instead, he argued for the use of Christotokos, or “Christ-bearer,” on the grounds that Mary could only have borne Christ the man, not God Himself (Gregory 103). At least, this is the description we have from mostly hostile sources. Now, being that Nestorius had been selected for his position by the Emperor Theodosius II, he had the emperor’s support, but that was not enough to stop Cyril from getting a council at Ephesus in 431. With papal backing, Cyril was able to seize control of the council (Frend 217) so that Nestorius was condemned as a heretic and exiled, being accused of presenting a Christology of two persons, which was unacceptable. Cyril had his way, but the emperor was disappointed (Treadgold 34). More importantly, though, the stage was set for the controversy to continue.
The 431 Council of Ephesus precipitated an entirely new Christological debate, raising the question of whether or not Christ had two natures, and if so, is the human nature fully human, for to deny full divinity is to reverse the orthodoxy established at Nicaea (Treadgold 34). Some, like the Theodosius’ Grand Chamberlain Chrysaphius, adopted the Monophysite position to which Theodosius tended as he grew older (34). Monophysitism is the belief that Christ possesses only the divine nature at the expense of his humanity, and it gained prominence in the 440’s under the monk Eutyches in fear of a revival of Nestorianism (Gregory 104). The new Bishop of Alexandria, Dioskoros, favored this view, but Flavian, the Bishop of Constantinople, was opposed to it (104). Flavian, investigating Eutyches, found cause to excommunicate him, but Theodosius, being friendly to the views of Eutyches and the Alexandrians, sought a council to tend to the matter (Frend 228). As the first Council of Ephesus had to contend with an extreme separation of the natures of Christ, the second had to contend with the diminishment of the human nature.
In 449 the Second Council of Ephesus, the “Robber Council,” was called by Theodosius II to deal (favorably) with Eutyches and the issues he raised. Dioskoros of Alexandria presided, and he did so in such a way as to ensure the victory of Eutyches, his “Alexandrian fathers,” and Monophysite Christology (Frend 229). To further the matter, Theodosius II was firmly allied to the Alexandrian and Monophysite cause, and as such was able to condone and encourage the dishonest proceedings carried out by Dioskoros. Indeed, the pronouncements of the Imperial court received attention first as it was decided that Eutyches should be reinstated, Flavian deposed, and Monophysitism considered the most compatible position given Nicaea (Frend 230). It was Flavian of Constantinople and Pope Leo I against the Imperial court of Constantinople and the Alexandrians, and the latter two were in control. Leo had even composed his famous Tome, which advanced a Diophysite Christology without sinking into Nestorianism, the orthodox position in the West, and as far as Leo was concerned, what was intended by Nicaea (Frend 231). The Tome was not read at Ephesus. It was Leo, then, who denounced this council as the “Robber Council,” and when Theodosius II died in a hunting accident in 450, he and his fellow Diophysites saw their chance to reverse the shenanigans of 449.
The Council of Chalcedon, the largest ecumenical council to date, was called by Pulcheria (the sister of Theodosius) and Marcian, the Byzantine rulers after Theodosius, in 451, and it would be the single most influential doctrinal pronouncement for the proceeding centuries of Byzantine history. Under the direction of the emperor and the empress, Flavian’s condemnation of Eutyches was declared orthodox, and Eutyches was once again condemned. Only Dioskoros and several others refused to go with the council on this matter, and they themselves were excommunicated (Frend 231). The Tome of Leo was also given attention at last, and it was reviewed for orthodoxy. Minor issues arose relating to latent Monophysite tendencies in some of the bishops, but at last the Chalcedonian Christology of Christ in two natures, both fully human and fully divine, was established (231). Interestingly, Nestorians and perhaps even Nestorius himself (who was still alive) felt a touch of absolution by this compromise of Christ being “a single person in two natures” (Frend 233). All the same, though, Chalcedon did effectively isolate the Egyptian Church, where the Monophysitism of Dioskoros was dominant, and by no means did it establish unity of belief in the empire, hearkening back to the dreams of Constantine. Chalcedon may have clarified the orthodoxy on Christology, but Monophysitism did not go away, remaining a significant influence even during the reign of Justinian and Theodora, the latter being a Monophysite herself. If anything, the establishment of this orthodoxy merely defined the terms for the long lasting conflict between the orthodox Chalcedonians and the unorthodox Monophysites for the centuries to come.
What, then, did orthodoxy mean in the Byzantine world? In the West, under such popes as Leo I, Chalcedon might rightly be considered the common belief, but in the East, such conflicts as that between the Antiochene and Alexandrian schools of exegesis and theology made for a much more complex situation. Indeed, this made vague compromises a frequent necessity in any statements on orthodoxy, lest trouble ensue. It certainly did not help that the more theologically consistent West frequently preferred greater specificity of belief from Constantinople, so, at the risk of tautology, variety is not conducive to unity. That said, the Byzantine Empire was still a unit, and unity was necessary, and even from Constantine, it seems that the establishment of orthodoxy was always an attempt to find a unified stance for the Christian world. The trouble was that the Christian world would not be unified for the convenience of the emperor, or scarcely even for its own good.
Bibliography
Frend, W.H.C. The Early Church. Fortress Press, Minneapolis: 1982.
Gregory, Timothy. A History of Byzantium. Blackwell, Malden, MA: 2005.
Treadgold, Warren. A Concise History of Byzantium. Palgrave, New York: 2001.
------------
In the first decades of the fourth century, the Emperor Constantine would alter history forever. Not only did he found the “New Rome” of Constantinople, soon to be the heart of the Byzantine Empire, but he also was the first Christian emperor of Rome. Christianity and Byzantium, then, were linked from the very origins of Byzantine prominence, and it is certainly a fruitful venture to observe the concurrent development of Christian orthodoxy after its acquisition of state support and the devleompent of this new city, founded for a Christian empire. Chronologically, this search for orthodoxy can first be seen in the circumstances surrounding the Council of Nicaea in 325. The developments of the fourth century, however, led to the Council of Constantinople in 381. The First Council of Ephesus in 431 came next, and the Second “Robber” Council of Ephesus took place in 449. At last, the monumental Council of Chalcedon would leave its long-standing mark on orthodoxy in 451. It is through the ecumenical councils that the development of orthodoxy can be most definitively seen.
Before the Council of Nicaea, Constantine saw it fit to find a settlement between his theologically discordant subjects. This meant dealing with the Donatists and the Arians. First of all, the Donatists were products of the Great Persecution of Diocletian. Donatus was a Carthaginian priest who would not tolerate the reinstatement of those who lapsed under persecution, and so he and his followers responded to the latter practice when it arose under Archbishop Caecilian of Carthage, by declaring Donatus archbishop (Gregory 53). This left Carthage with a schism between two archbishops, so when Constantine tried in 313 to restore the property of the Church in North Africa, each was a claimant. Initially Constantine encouraged the parties to come to a peaceful solution between themselves, but when this failed he was persuaded against the Donatists by the councils he called for guidance on the matter, and he used the army to persecute them, which itself was an utter failure (53). It was the case, then, that though the North African church remained split, the beginnings of a state-linked orthodoxy had appeared with Constantine’s councils, and this orthodoxy was opposed to Donatism. So much for Constantine’s first attempt at unifying the Christians of his domain.
A decade later in 325, Arianism was highly controversial in Alexandria, which had fallen into Constantine’s hands with the defeat of Licinius, a victory that had unified the empire once again. Arianism can be simply defined by the belief that Christ, as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, was created by the Father, and that He is less fully God than God the Father (Gregory 54). In fact, it was the furor of this controversy that compelled Licinius to resume persecution of the Church in 320, which was itself the impetus for Constantine’s conquest of the Eastern Empire. Still desiring unity among his Christian subjects, Constantine reacted to this issue much the same way as he did to the Donatists: he implored the parties to get along. Failing to see this realized, Constantine decided it would be best to seek unity with an ecumenical council, calling bishops from across the empire (54).
The Council of Nicaea met at the aforesaid location in 324 in order to deal with the Arian controversy. Though it had been Constantine’s intention in calling the council to find unity in the universal church of his empire, the bishops themselves immediately set about excluding their Arian colleagues from the orthodoxy they were to establish (Frend 140). Constantine, however, was not to be stopped by this resolve, seeking then to find as inclusive a doctrine as he could. Thus Constantine proposed the use of the term homoousios, denoting that the Father and the Son are “of the same substance,” and this was accepted (140). The Nicene Creed was formulated on this basis, and Arianism was condemned as a heresy, but this did not stop Constantine from showing plenty of favor to the Arians, eventually allowing for the reinstatement of Arius (who suddenly and mysteriously died immediately beforehand) and being clinically baptized by the Arian bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia (Treadgold 23-24). The conflict between imperial designs of unity and ecclesiastical politics is plainly evident even from the beginnings of the Christian empire, which might be emphasized by the fact that the questioning of homoousios was largely delayed until Constantine’s passing (Frend 140).
Almost sixty years would pass before the next great council, that at Constantinople in 381, would be called. In that time, the empire would see its final pagan emperor, Julian “the Apostate,” who ruled from 361 until 363. It was he who undid many of the policies set down by Constantine, severing the link betwixt church and state which, for better or for worse, would not return with the strength it had heretofore known. His successor, the Christian Jovian, would merely eliminate Julian’s anti-Christian legislation (Gregory 76). This indeed turned out to be the last hurrah of Roman paganism, for as the remainder of the fourth century progressed, Christianity would unquestionably become the prevailing view of the empire (90). Now in the West, Nicene Christianity was generally stable, but in the East, the Arians still opposed the pronouncements at Nicaea, and Theodosius I, a Spaniard by birth, was very much a Westerner when he was proclaimed emperor in 379 (Frend 175). Coming to Constantinople, then, the Arian controversy was seen as something that needed attention, hence an edict that delivered its “death blow” in early 381, successfully demanding and enforcing Nicene Christianity, except among the Germans, where the missionary bishop Ulfilas was converting Goths in droves to Arian Christianity (175-76). Just a few months later, Theodosius saw the need to call an ecumenical council at Constantinople, which would denounce Arianism among other heresies.
The Council of Constantinople was called in 381 mostly to deal with Arianism, but it highlights above all else the growing conflict between Eastern and Western Christianity, an unfortunate side effect of Christianity’s rise to prominence in the empire. Whether the opposed attitudes of East and West are attributed to administrative divide, linguistic divide, or some other set of causes, there is no denying this friction after 381. The conflict at Constantinople pertained largely to the respective authorities of the bishops of Rome, Constantinople, and Alexandria. In the end, though, it was the Alexandrians who were disaffected, thanks to two canons in particular, one preventing meddling in other ecclesiastical provinces, the other granting the Bishop of Constantinople “primacy of honor after the Bishop of Rome” (Frend 176). Such became the relationship among the cities for decades to come. Of course, this no to neglect the denunciation of heresies like Arianism, which was definitively achieved with the backing of the emperor (Treadgold 29), something Constantine had not provided at Nicaea. The Council of Constantinople enjoyed widespread acceptance for its specific pronouncements, in a sense confirming the Council of Nicaea as being orthodox, and this was its success, but it provided no permanent peace for the church, especially not with the Alexandrians left as they were.
How appropriate, then, that Bishop Cyril of Alexandria would be the instigator of the next round of councils, from the two at Ephesus to their resolution at Chalcedon in 451. Arianism, having been effectively purged from the empire, was no longer the arch-heresy, but the questions of Christology were far from resolved. Monophysitism was on the rise in the east, thanks to its opposite extreme, Nestorianism. Because the first Council of Ephesus in 431 was rooted in the Nestorian controversy, a summary of Nestorianism is warranted. Nestorius was appointed Bishop of Constantinople by Theodosius II in 428, and it did not take him long to raise the ire of Cyril of Alexandria. The controversy arose when Nestorius objected to the use of the term Theotokos, or “God-bearer,” to refer to the Virgin Mary. Instead, he argued for the use of Christotokos, or “Christ-bearer,” on the grounds that Mary could only have borne Christ the man, not God Himself (Gregory 103). At least, this is the description we have from mostly hostile sources. Now, being that Nestorius had been selected for his position by the Emperor Theodosius II, he had the emperor’s support, but that was not enough to stop Cyril from getting a council at Ephesus in 431. With papal backing, Cyril was able to seize control of the council (Frend 217) so that Nestorius was condemned as a heretic and exiled, being accused of presenting a Christology of two persons, which was unacceptable. Cyril had his way, but the emperor was disappointed (Treadgold 34). More importantly, though, the stage was set for the controversy to continue.
The 431 Council of Ephesus precipitated an entirely new Christological debate, raising the question of whether or not Christ had two natures, and if so, is the human nature fully human, for to deny full divinity is to reverse the orthodoxy established at Nicaea (Treadgold 34). Some, like the Theodosius’ Grand Chamberlain Chrysaphius, adopted the Monophysite position to which Theodosius tended as he grew older (34). Monophysitism is the belief that Christ possesses only the divine nature at the expense of his humanity, and it gained prominence in the 440’s under the monk Eutyches in fear of a revival of Nestorianism (Gregory 104). The new Bishop of Alexandria, Dioskoros, favored this view, but Flavian, the Bishop of Constantinople, was opposed to it (104). Flavian, investigating Eutyches, found cause to excommunicate him, but Theodosius, being friendly to the views of Eutyches and the Alexandrians, sought a council to tend to the matter (Frend 228). As the first Council of Ephesus had to contend with an extreme separation of the natures of Christ, the second had to contend with the diminishment of the human nature.
In 449 the Second Council of Ephesus, the “Robber Council,” was called by Theodosius II to deal (favorably) with Eutyches and the issues he raised. Dioskoros of Alexandria presided, and he did so in such a way as to ensure the victory of Eutyches, his “Alexandrian fathers,” and Monophysite Christology (Frend 229). To further the matter, Theodosius II was firmly allied to the Alexandrian and Monophysite cause, and as such was able to condone and encourage the dishonest proceedings carried out by Dioskoros. Indeed, the pronouncements of the Imperial court received attention first as it was decided that Eutyches should be reinstated, Flavian deposed, and Monophysitism considered the most compatible position given Nicaea (Frend 230). It was Flavian of Constantinople and Pope Leo I against the Imperial court of Constantinople and the Alexandrians, and the latter two were in control. Leo had even composed his famous Tome, which advanced a Diophysite Christology without sinking into Nestorianism, the orthodox position in the West, and as far as Leo was concerned, what was intended by Nicaea (Frend 231). The Tome was not read at Ephesus. It was Leo, then, who denounced this council as the “Robber Council,” and when Theodosius II died in a hunting accident in 450, he and his fellow Diophysites saw their chance to reverse the shenanigans of 449.
The Council of Chalcedon, the largest ecumenical council to date, was called by Pulcheria (the sister of Theodosius) and Marcian, the Byzantine rulers after Theodosius, in 451, and it would be the single most influential doctrinal pronouncement for the proceeding centuries of Byzantine history. Under the direction of the emperor and the empress, Flavian’s condemnation of Eutyches was declared orthodox, and Eutyches was once again condemned. Only Dioskoros and several others refused to go with the council on this matter, and they themselves were excommunicated (Frend 231). The Tome of Leo was also given attention at last, and it was reviewed for orthodoxy. Minor issues arose relating to latent Monophysite tendencies in some of the bishops, but at last the Chalcedonian Christology of Christ in two natures, both fully human and fully divine, was established (231). Interestingly, Nestorians and perhaps even Nestorius himself (who was still alive) felt a touch of absolution by this compromise of Christ being “a single person in two natures” (Frend 233). All the same, though, Chalcedon did effectively isolate the Egyptian Church, where the Monophysitism of Dioskoros was dominant, and by no means did it establish unity of belief in the empire, hearkening back to the dreams of Constantine. Chalcedon may have clarified the orthodoxy on Christology, but Monophysitism did not go away, remaining a significant influence even during the reign of Justinian and Theodora, the latter being a Monophysite herself. If anything, the establishment of this orthodoxy merely defined the terms for the long lasting conflict between the orthodox Chalcedonians and the unorthodox Monophysites for the centuries to come.
What, then, did orthodoxy mean in the Byzantine world? In the West, under such popes as Leo I, Chalcedon might rightly be considered the common belief, but in the East, such conflicts as that between the Antiochene and Alexandrian schools of exegesis and theology made for a much more complex situation. Indeed, this made vague compromises a frequent necessity in any statements on orthodoxy, lest trouble ensue. It certainly did not help that the more theologically consistent West frequently preferred greater specificity of belief from Constantinople, so, at the risk of tautology, variety is not conducive to unity. That said, the Byzantine Empire was still a unit, and unity was necessary, and even from Constantine, it seems that the establishment of orthodoxy was always an attempt to find a unified stance for the Christian world. The trouble was that the Christian world would not be unified for the convenience of the emperor, or scarcely even for its own good.
Bibliography
Frend, W.H.C. The Early Church. Fortress Press, Minneapolis: 1982.
Gregory, Timothy. A History of Byzantium. Blackwell, Malden, MA: 2005.
Treadgold, Warren. A Concise History of Byzantium. Palgrave, New York: 2001.
28 October 2008
Pheidippotamus
Hither! thunder hither
thence, thou grandest of all steeds.
Prance with all thy graces
from out the river-reeds.
See we have been summoned
by the princess to the ball!
Dance with all thy splendor
into the royal hall!
Thither! thunder thither
hence, and gallop all the way.
Thy patter on the plains
must fall without delay!
for agog awaiting
stays the princess for a glance
at thy flowing frolic
and thy grey countenance.
thence, thou grandest of all steeds.
Prance with all thy graces
from out the river-reeds.
See we have been summoned
by the princess to the ball!
Dance with all thy splendor
into the royal hall!
Thither! thunder thither
hence, and gallop all the way.
Thy patter on the plains
must fall without delay!
for agog awaiting
stays the princess for a glance
at thy flowing frolic
and thy grey countenance.
27 October 2008
Better Living through Behaviorism
Let's jive.
Stimulus: Good evening.
Response: It is a good evening, isn't it?
Now it is plain that this Response is, in fact, reciprocating a stimulus right back. I hereby illustrate this, color coding each speaker.
Stimulus: Indeed, and how good do you suppose it was?
Response: Well, it exhibited cool and pleasant temperatures, and a grey, overcast sky.
Stimulus: So what does this indicate about its goodness?
Response: Nothing but that the day was stimulated to behave as it did.
Stimulus: Then why do you say the day was good?
Response: You stimulated me to say it.
Stimulus: I think I understand.
Response: I do not see that you "understand."
Stimulus: How would you see that I understand?
Response: You would behave accordingly.
Stimulus: How would I, understanding behave?
Response: Do not "trouble" me with absurd questions about inner states.
Stimulus: I do not understand.
Response: Exactly.
------------
Now behave.
Stimulus: Good evening.
Response: It is a good evening, isn't it?
Now it is plain that this Response is, in fact, reciprocating a stimulus right back. I hereby illustrate this, color coding each speaker.
Stimulus: It is a good evening, isn't it?
Response: Yes, it is a good evening, and it was a beautiful day, also.
Response: Yes, it is a good evening, and it was a beautiful day, also.
Stimulus: Yes, it is a good evening, and it was a beautiful day, also.
Response: It was a good day, wasn't it?Stimulus: It was a good day, wasn't it?
Response: Indeed, and how good do you suppose it was?
Response: Indeed, and how good do you suppose it was?
Stimulus: Indeed, and how good do you suppose it was?
Response: Well, it exhibited cool and pleasant temperatures, and a grey, overcast sky.
Stimulus: Well, it exhibited cool and pleasant temperatures, and a grey, overcast sky.
Response: So what does this indicate about its goodness?
Response: So what does this indicate about its goodness?
Stimulus: So what does this indicate about its goodness?
Response: Nothing but that the day was stimulated to behave as it did.
Stimulus: Nothing but that the day was stimulated to behave as it did.
Response: Then why do you say the day was good?
Stimulus: Then why do you say the day was good?
Response: You stimulated me to say it.
Stimulus: You stimulated me to say it.
Response: I think I understand.
Stimulus: I think I understand.
Response: I do not see that you "understand."
Stimulus: I do not see that you "understand."
Response: How would you see that I understand?
Stimulus: How would you see that I understand?
Response: You would behave accordingly.
Stimulus: You would behave accordingly.
Response: How would I, understanding, behave?
Response: How would I, understanding, behave?
Stimulus: How would I, understanding behave?
Response: Do not "trouble" me with absurd questions about inner states.
Stimulus: Do not "trouble" me with absurd questions about inner states.
Response: I do not understand.
Response: I do not understand.
Stimulus: I do not understand.
Response: Exactly.
------------
Now behave.
12 October 2008
Breathe the Free Air Again
Dear [Your Representative or Senator]:
Let me begin by introducing myself. I am a Citizen of your constituency, concerned for the continued Prosperity of our Republic and the subsequent Prosperity of my fellow Citizens. As such, I argue that we can no longer stand idly by as blind and irresponsible toleration of misdeeds allows certain villains among us to continually act unjustly toward not only fellow Citizens, but to the world at large, also. For is it not unjust to knowingly engage in behavior that has proved to be both self-destructive and destructive to others, and not only some others, but to all others? Already, to be sure, the necessity of action against this injustice should be perfectly evident, but allow the most beautiful argument to persuade all the skeptical ones and perhaps even some among these unjust villains. Furthermore, I ask that you heed the conclusion of the most beautiful argument, which is the course that our Republic must take in defeating this injustice once and for all.
Before beginning the argument proper, the villainy at hand must be known, already having irrefutably established its gravity, and this villainy is the smoking of various poisons with divers instruments of cruelty, whose offense is bounded only by its diffusion into imperceptibility. It is this imperceptibility, however, that is a particular danger of the injustice, for its pollution, both environmental and ethical, is detectable only briefly and then forgotten. The damage then proceeds unseen and unheeded without intentional attention. Truly, this is a behavior exhibited only by villains in darkness, but the villain is here and now exposed. As a Patriotic Citizen of our Republic, I at least cannot stand for the idle allowance of malicious, traitorous, and seditious acts to manifest without inhibition, filling the air with both the substance and spirit of Death. You, being a Patriotic Citizen of our Republic also, must not stand for this either.
Let us now consider one of the greatest Citizens our Republic has ever known, our twenty-sixth president and a noted asthmatic, Theodore Roosevelt. This is one who devoted much to the Conservation of Life and the defiance of death, and as such can prove a strong historical ally to our cause, a cause of all truly Patriotic Citizens of our Republic. This was a man who, after being shot in the chest, proceeded to deliver the two hour or so long speech through whose text the assassin's bullet was brought to a stop. Before that even, this Patriot was willing to personally lead the Rough Riders in a cavalry charge against the Spanish, which nation had offended our Republic sufficiently cause war. Thus the lesser point of Roosevelt's defiance of death is established. Now we turn to the greater point of Roosevelt's Conservation of Life.
Significantly, it was Roosevelt who made Conservation an interest and an establishment of our Republic. Without him, the natural splendor of our country might be but the dream of a shadow of what it is. It is the assurance that such would not be the case, as it is not, that comes from Roosevelt's intense involvement in setting forth authorities, such as the United States Forest Service, to protect Life and its fine and beautiful nature, ensuring simultaneously thereby that our natural resources are put to efficient use, rather than pillaged with wanton disregard for the complexity of nature whence they are extracted. This was a balanced and rational policy, that of a brilliant and erudite individual, the likes of which are rarely seen in the course of our or any history. It is on similar grounds, following the lead of the great Nobel laureate and President Roosevelt, whose face graces Mt. Rushmore, that we might trust that our policy on this matter is a just one. For Roosevelt would never, knowing what we do about the matter, allow our Citizens do harm to themselves, to their fellows, and to all the world around.
Now we may recall the diplomatic adage of Theodore Roosevelt, "Speak softly, and carry a big stick." This is precisely how we just Citizens must treat the unjust traitors, who ought not be considered Citizens at all. It is my proposal that we Citizens be allowed to deal with offenders with both a soft voice and a big stick. Encountering an act of villainy, with the lead of a soft voice, cessation must be requested according to the most beautiful argument. Failure to cease this offense should warrant a single blow to the head with a big stick. This reverts the degree of harm maximally inward and cuts short the outward damage, and the bulk of the harm, at least in the short term, is not unjustly self-inflicted, but inflicted by another for the sake of justice. A better plan could hardly be conceived, and if one exists, it cannot be far from this one.
In conclusion, I realize that in our Republic, we hold to majority rule with minority rights, and surely the majority is not continually guilty of the villainy at hand. In this rule, however, majority rights cannot be neglected in favor of minority rights, for when minority rights encroach upon those of the majority, majority rule must be employed to grant the majority right over that of the minority. This is exactly the case in this matter. The minority has no right to inhale the substance of death, puffing outward into Nature that same deathly substance, depriving the majority of its right to breathe freely. If the very air is not free, how can we call our Republic free? For the preservation of Just Citizenship, I implore you to pursue the just according to the most beautiful argument. For if some are allowed to harm more without retribution, how far are we from greater manifestations of wanton and thoughtless cruelty?
Sincerely,
[Your Name Here]
Let me begin by introducing myself. I am a Citizen of your constituency, concerned for the continued Prosperity of our Republic and the subsequent Prosperity of my fellow Citizens. As such, I argue that we can no longer stand idly by as blind and irresponsible toleration of misdeeds allows certain villains among us to continually act unjustly toward not only fellow Citizens, but to the world at large, also. For is it not unjust to knowingly engage in behavior that has proved to be both self-destructive and destructive to others, and not only some others, but to all others? Already, to be sure, the necessity of action against this injustice should be perfectly evident, but allow the most beautiful argument to persuade all the skeptical ones and perhaps even some among these unjust villains. Furthermore, I ask that you heed the conclusion of the most beautiful argument, which is the course that our Republic must take in defeating this injustice once and for all.
Before beginning the argument proper, the villainy at hand must be known, already having irrefutably established its gravity, and this villainy is the smoking of various poisons with divers instruments of cruelty, whose offense is bounded only by its diffusion into imperceptibility. It is this imperceptibility, however, that is a particular danger of the injustice, for its pollution, both environmental and ethical, is detectable only briefly and then forgotten. The damage then proceeds unseen and unheeded without intentional attention. Truly, this is a behavior exhibited only by villains in darkness, but the villain is here and now exposed. As a Patriotic Citizen of our Republic, I at least cannot stand for the idle allowance of malicious, traitorous, and seditious acts to manifest without inhibition, filling the air with both the substance and spirit of Death. You, being a Patriotic Citizen of our Republic also, must not stand for this either.
Let us now consider one of the greatest Citizens our Republic has ever known, our twenty-sixth president and a noted asthmatic, Theodore Roosevelt. This is one who devoted much to the Conservation of Life and the defiance of death, and as such can prove a strong historical ally to our cause, a cause of all truly Patriotic Citizens of our Republic. This was a man who, after being shot in the chest, proceeded to deliver the two hour or so long speech through whose text the assassin's bullet was brought to a stop. Before that even, this Patriot was willing to personally lead the Rough Riders in a cavalry charge against the Spanish, which nation had offended our Republic sufficiently cause war. Thus the lesser point of Roosevelt's defiance of death is established. Now we turn to the greater point of Roosevelt's Conservation of Life.
Significantly, it was Roosevelt who made Conservation an interest and an establishment of our Republic. Without him, the natural splendor of our country might be but the dream of a shadow of what it is. It is the assurance that such would not be the case, as it is not, that comes from Roosevelt's intense involvement in setting forth authorities, such as the United States Forest Service, to protect Life and its fine and beautiful nature, ensuring simultaneously thereby that our natural resources are put to efficient use, rather than pillaged with wanton disregard for the complexity of nature whence they are extracted. This was a balanced and rational policy, that of a brilliant and erudite individual, the likes of which are rarely seen in the course of our or any history. It is on similar grounds, following the lead of the great Nobel laureate and President Roosevelt, whose face graces Mt. Rushmore, that we might trust that our policy on this matter is a just one. For Roosevelt would never, knowing what we do about the matter, allow our Citizens do harm to themselves, to their fellows, and to all the world around.
Now we may recall the diplomatic adage of Theodore Roosevelt, "Speak softly, and carry a big stick." This is precisely how we just Citizens must treat the unjust traitors, who ought not be considered Citizens at all. It is my proposal that we Citizens be allowed to deal with offenders with both a soft voice and a big stick. Encountering an act of villainy, with the lead of a soft voice, cessation must be requested according to the most beautiful argument. Failure to cease this offense should warrant a single blow to the head with a big stick. This reverts the degree of harm maximally inward and cuts short the outward damage, and the bulk of the harm, at least in the short term, is not unjustly self-inflicted, but inflicted by another for the sake of justice. A better plan could hardly be conceived, and if one exists, it cannot be far from this one.
In conclusion, I realize that in our Republic, we hold to majority rule with minority rights, and surely the majority is not continually guilty of the villainy at hand. In this rule, however, majority rights cannot be neglected in favor of minority rights, for when minority rights encroach upon those of the majority, majority rule must be employed to grant the majority right over that of the minority. This is exactly the case in this matter. The minority has no right to inhale the substance of death, puffing outward into Nature that same deathly substance, depriving the majority of its right to breathe freely. If the very air is not free, how can we call our Republic free? For the preservation of Just Citizenship, I implore you to pursue the just according to the most beautiful argument. For if some are allowed to harm more without retribution, how far are we from greater manifestations of wanton and thoughtless cruelty?
Sincerely,
[Your Name Here]
01 October 2008
Sunshiny Days
Ich kenne den Wert eines Königreichs nicht aber ich weiß, daß ich ein Glück erlangt habe,
das ich nicht verdiene und das ich mit nichts in der Welt vertauschen möchte.
My first Summertime plan was to have my hairs cut, and this I achieved with great success, having them cut not once, but thrice: once on 12 May, once on 18 July, and once on 12 September. The hairs-cut on 12 May was an enormous success, the one on 18 July was a monumental failure, and the one on 12 September was another enormous success.
My second Summertime plan involved the completion of an orchestral work about a mysterious subject that somehow relates to the Three Seasons (as I have now revealed). That is not the subject, but it is an integral part of it. I have some progress, but not much. On the whole, this plan was not followed very much at all.
My third Summertime plan involved the composition of music for the pianoforte. I finished nothing of this nature, but I started things that may or may not be finished one day.
My fourth Summertime plan was CIY/Move 2008, which was a joyous adventure without fail.
My fifth Summertime plan was to achieve mastery over the inane pianistic technical excercises that I absolutely do not improve in playing no matter how much I play them. As such, I failed miserably, but that does not matter any more, now that I no longer play the piano for the Academy. Freedom! Seriously, I have hardly been able to play the piano freely since the summer of 2007! Freedom!
My sixth Summertime plan was mastery of theory 101, which I achieved in full and beyond. In fact, I attended one meeting of Theory 201 at the Conservatory before transferring out, and I found that I would not be hearing anything I had not already studied until the year 2009 had significantly progressed. Of course, by that time, I had already begun the motions to leave, but it was certainly encouraging that I was doing better thing by leaving. One of the primary pitfalls of the Conservatory (and of any music department) is its domination by performers, so that those who given't a whit for performance are tormented by excessive demands thereabout and by inadequacy on the intellectual matters that are actually interesting to them (or rather us). I imagine that you, dearest of friends, are growing weary of my incessant criticism of the Conservatory and of Musical Education, and for that I say that I no longer have a source for such criticism, so these are merely the dregs if my frustration.
My seventh Summertime plan I sincerely hope turns out as well as our visions declare. We dove in blind! We could not have done this if we knew what we were doing! It is still probably the most fun I have ever enjoyed. I just hope that which remains is delightful and not an interference or irritation.
My eighth Summertime plan, to study the New Testament in Greek, I did not do at all. It is not easy to summon the will to drudge through a text, no matter what it is, in a language with which one knows only the simplest vocabulary and an understanding of the grammatical structures (which may or may not be remembered). I say, reading is what English is for, and speaking too. Seriously, though, I still would quite like to pick up this discipline. Perhaps my more monastic life at school will make it easier.
My ninth Summertime plan to read wonderful and interesting things went just fine, though it was often obscured and prevented by Summertime plan the seventh. If I choose to detail this, I shall do so in an independent posting.
My tenth Summertime plan was GenCon. That is all.
My eleventh Summertime plan to practice sport was not quite as successful as it ought to have been. I did engage in sport from time to time, but by no means regularly or frequently. I did spend a good deal of time outdoors, though, and that was half the purpose. At least I am still full of youth and vigor, hence many manful strengths.
My twelfth summertime plan involved the acquisition of bagpipes and the mastery of their performance. Needless to say, this was never more than a good dream.
At last, I come to my final point, and that is that this Summer was truly a time of extraordinary happiness, in whose origin I can take scarcely any responsibility, excepting my embrace of the discipline of happiness, though the ease with which happiness came can hardly allow me to count it as such. Indeed, this came of a dual origin: the Joy of Christ that is beyond circumstance and sensation, and circumstance itself; for indeed just as I did not give myself the former Joy, these peculiar circumstances originated without my meddling, as the greatest and most peculiar of circumstances tend to do. Perhaps I am a strutting and prancing fool, but I still pronounce my thankfulness here to my friends and to the Almighty God, without whom I likely would not have any friends. Happiness is a happy thing, but Joy is greater, and surely Joy is greater that we yet in mind perceive, and that too is happy.
Now, having said something of a perfectly sincere tone, I grow uncomfortable. I ought to get over that. Good night, dearest of friends.
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