Now you can make that apophatic getaway you’ve always dreamed of. According to the International Herald Tribune, the Turkish region of Cappadocia — once home to Basil and the Gregorys — “is now going upscale and drawing a younger more sophisticated crowd.” But it’s drawing them into the very cells of the Fathers, now equipped with glass-walled showers and wifi.

I’m not making this up.

In April the area welcomed its first true designer hotel, the Serinn House, which has been built around and carved into the area’s soft rock like the subterranean chapels created centuries earlier…

As early as the third century, those chimneys became a hiding place for early Christians who fled persecution from the Romans, and then later from raiding Muslims. They dug deep into the rock, carving out underground cities that went eight stories below ground, as well as thousands of cave chapels and monastery cells.

Read on.

This week we’ll mark the 1,600th anniversary of the death of St. John Chrysostom. Isn’t it time, then, for a historical reconsideration of one of his archnemeses?

Indeed it is! Bryn Mawr Classical Review sizes up Norman Russell’s new study of Theophilus of Alexandria in Routledge’s Early Church Fathers series. Theophilus was, by all accounts, the man who presided at the travesty of justice called the Synod of the Oak.

Theophilus of Alexandria by Norman Russell (hereafter R.) is a valuable addition to The Early Church Fathers series published by Routledge. Each volume in this series focuses on a specific church father, combining a biographical sketch with a sampling of representative texts in translation, and R.’s book offers a useful introduction to an important but neglected figure in patristic studies. Bishop Theophilus is perhaps best known for his association with the destruction of the Serapeum in Alexandria, his involvement in the Origenist Controversy of the late fourth century, and his role in the deposition of John Chrysostom at the Synod of the Oak in 403. In general, the primary sources have not been kind to him, and they have created a lasting impression, even to this day, of a manipulative, temperamental, and ruthless man. R. challenges this characterization, and from the onset he aspires ‘to be fairer to Theophilus’ (3). While overcoming centuries of negative press might ultimately prove impossible, R. does succeed at least in presenting the more revered side of Theophilus, particularly through his translations of letters and sermons (some of which were previously unavailable in English).

Following the general structure of the series, the book has two main parts. The first is a detailed reconstruction of Theophilus’ biography through a critical reassessment of the sources (pp. 3-41), and the second is a collection of translations divided into four sections, each preceded by a brief introduction (pp. 45-174). The book is by no means long, but it demonstrates excellent scholarship and style.

At the end of this month, I’ll be celebrating Theophilus’s success in speeding St. John on his way to heaven. My dear friends in the Society of St. John Chrysostom will mark the day with two speakers, Rev. Hiermonk Dr. Calinic (Berger) and Yours Truly. God willing, I’ll speak on St. John’s “Mystagogy of Marriage.” The celebration begins with Vespers on Saturday, September 29, 6 p.m. at Holy Trinity Romanian Orthodox Church, Wick Ave in Youngstown, Ohio. I’m told that advance tickets are required. Hope to see you there. (Last one there is a scheming Alexandrian.)

Carson Weber, who used to work with us at the St. Paul Center, is now director of evangelization for the Diocese of Sacramento, California. Even more significantly, he has been podcasting a parish-based Bible study based on my friend Scott Hahn’s outstanding book Understanding The Scriptures: A Complete Course On Bible Study. It’s a lavishly illustrated textbook, often used for both college and high-school courses. The reading is easy, but it goes deep, very deep.

From the Turkish press: the biblical city of Laodicea, renowned for its lukewarmness (see Rev 3:14-22), is making a comeback. Its streets, now excavated, will be once again “open to the public with a ceremony some 1,300 years after being all but completely abandoned.”

Let your imagination go wild. What kind of ceremony would you plan?

(This blog has visited Laodicea before.)

It’s your mother’s birthday.

Here’s the Zenit translation of Pope Benedict’s second round on Gregory of Nyssa.

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

I offer you some aspects of St. Gregory of Nyssa’s teaching, which we already talked about last Wednesday.

First of all, Gregory of Nyssa shows a highly elevated sense of man’s dignity. Man’s aim, says the bishop-saint, is to make himself like God, and he reaches this end above all through love, knowledge and the practice of the virtues, “luminous rays that come down from the divine nature” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44,1272C), in a perpetual and dynamic adherence to good, like a runner stretching forward.

Gregory uses, to this end, an effective image, already present in the Letter of Paul to the Philippians: “épekteinómenos” (3:13), which means “stretching oneself out” toward that which is greater, toward the truth and love.

This representative expression indicates a profound reality: The perfection we seek is not something that is conquered once and for all; perfection is a permanent journey, a constant commitment to progress, because complete likeness to God can never be achieved; we are always on the path (cf. “Homilia in Canticum” 12: PG 44,1025d).

The story of each soul is that of a love which is totally fulfilled, and at the same time open to new horizons, because God continually expands the possibilities of the soul, so as to make it capable of ever greater good. God himself, who placed the seeds of good within us, and from whom comes every initiative of holiness, “forms the block of clay … polishing and cleaning our spirit, forming Christ in us” (“In Psalmos” 2:11: PG 44,544B).

Gregory is careful to clarify: “It is not the result of our efforts, neither is it the result of human strength to become like the Deity, but rather it is the result of God’s generosity, who even from his origin offered to our nature the grace of likeness with him” (“De virginitate” 12:2: SC 119,408-410).

For the soul, therefore, “it is not a matter of knowing something about God, but in having God within us” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44, 1269c). As Gregory notes, “divinity is purity, it is freedom from the passions and removal from all evil: If all these things are in you, God is truly in you” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44,1272C).

When we have God within us, when man loves God, through that reciprocity that is part of the law of love, he wants what God himself wants (cf. “Homilia in Canticum” 9: PG 44,956ac), and therefore cooperates in forming the divine image within himself, so that “our spiritual birth is the result of a free choice, and we are parents of ourselves in some way, creating ourselves as we want to be, and forming ourselves through our will according to the model we choose” (“Vita Moysis” 2:3: SC 1bis,108).

To ascend to God, man must be purified: “The path, that leads human nature to heaven, is nothing more than separation from the evils of this world. … Becoming like God means becoming just, holy and good. … If therefore, according to Ecclesiastes (5:1), ‘God is in heaven’ and if, according to the prophet (Psalm 72:28) you ‘belong to God,’ it necessarily follows that you must be there where God is, from the moment that you are united to him. Because he has commanded that, when you pray, you call God Father, he tells you to become like your heavenly Father, with a life worthy of God, as the Lord commands us more explicitly in other passages, saying: ‘Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect!’ (Matthew 5:48)” (“De oratione dominica” 2: PG 44,1145ac).

In this journey of spiritual ascent, Christ is the model and the master, who shows us the beautiful image of God (cf. “De perfectione Christiana”: PG 46,272a). Looking at him, each one of us discovers ourselves to be “the painter of our own life,” in which our will undertakes the work and our virtues are the colors at our disposal (ibid.: PG 46,272b).

Therefore, if man is considered worthy of Christ’s name, how must he act?

Gregory responds in this way: “[He must] always examine his inner thoughts, his words and actions, to see if they are focused on Christ or if they are far from him” (ibid.: PG 46,284c).

Gregory, as we mentioned earlier, speaks of ascent: ascent to God in prayer through purity of heart; but ascent to God also through love of neighbor. Love is the ladder that leads us to God. Therefore, he heartily encourages each one his listeners: “Be generous with these brothers, victims of the plight. Give to the hungry that which you deny your own stomach” (ibid.: PG 46,457c).

With great clarity Gregory reminds us that we are all dependent on God, and therefore he exclaims: “Do not think that everything is yours! There must also be something for the poor, the friends of God. The truth, in fact, is that everything comes from God, the universal Father, and that we are brothers, and we belong to the same progeny” (ibid PG 46,465b).

And so the Christian must examine himself, Gregory insists: “What does it profit you to fast and abstain from meat, if with your wickedness you bite your brother? What do you gain from it, in God’s eyes, from not eating what is yours, if you unjustly strip from the hands of a poor man what is his?” (ibid.: PG 46,456a).

We conclude our catecheses on the three great Cappadocian Fathers by recalling the important aspect of the spiritual doctrine of Gregory of Nyssa, which is prayer.

To make progress on the journey toward perfection and to welcome God within ourselves, to carry within us the Spirit of God, the love of God, man must turn to him in prayer with faith: “Through prayer we are able to be with God. He who is with God is far from the enemy. Prayer is the support and defense of chastity, the restraint of anger, the quieting and control of pride. Prayer is the guardian of virginity, protection of fidelity in marriage, hope for those who keep vigil, abundance of fruit for farmers, security for the traveler” (“De oratione dominica” 1: PG 44,1124A-B).

The Christian prays, inspired by the Lord’s prayer: “If we want to pray for God’s Kingdom to descend upon us, we ask this with the power of the Word: That I be removed from corruption, freed from death, released from the chains of error; that death will never reign over me, that the tyranny of evil will never have power over us, that the enemy never rule over me or make me a prisoner through sin, but may your kingdom come, so that the passions that rule me may be removed from me or, better yet, be obliterated” (ibid., 3: PG 44,1156d-1157a).

At the end of his earthly life, the Christian can approach God in serenity. In speaking about this, St. Gregory refers to the death of his sister Macrina and writes that at the moment of her death she prayed: “You who have the power on earth to remit sins forgive me, so that I can have the Risen One” (Psalm 38:14), and that I can be found spotless in your eyes, in the moment in which I am stripped of my body (cf. Collosians 2:11), so that my spirit, holy and immaculate (cf. Ephesians 5:27) will be welcomed into your hands, “like incense before you” (Psalm 140:2)” (“Vita Macrinae” 24: SC 178,224).

This teaching of Gregory’s remains valid: not only speaking about God, but bringing God within us. We do this through prayer and by living in the spirit of love for all of our brothers.

And here’s the report from Vatican Information Service…

And from Catholic World News…

Wow! The Curt Jester himself has reviewed the new edition of my book The Mass of the Early Christians. I’m so proud I’d better head to confession.

Pope Benedict spoke again on Gregory of Nyssa. All I see online so far is the Vatican’s summary:

Dear Brothers and Sisters,
In our catechesis on the teachers of the early Church, we once again consider Saint Gregory of Nyssa, one of the great Cappadocian Fathers of the fourth century. At the heart of Saint Gregory’s teaching is the innate dignity of every man and woman, made in the image of God and called to grow more fully into his likeness. Human fulfilment is found in a dynamic process of growth towards that perfection which has its fullness in God; daily we “press forward” (cf. Phil 3:13) towards union with God through love, knowledge and the cultivation of the virtues. This ascent to God calls for a process of purification which, by his grace, perfects our human nature and produces fruits of justice, holiness and goodness. In all of this, Jesus Christ, the perfect image of the Father, is our model and teacher. Gregory insists on Christ’s presence in the poor, who challenge us to acknowledge our own dependence on God and to imitate his mercy. Finally, Gregory points to the importance of prayer modelled on the Lord’s own prayer for the triumph of God’s Kingdom. May his teaching inspire us to seek that holiness and purity of heart which will one day enable us to see God face to face!

Want to read more Gregory of Nyssa?

Jeff Ziegler‘s links for the memorial of St. Gregory the Great…

— Today is the memorial of St. Gregory the Great (d. 604), pope, doctor of the Church (traditionally reckoned among the four greatest Fathers of the Church in the West), patron saint of music.
— St. Gregory’s Moralia in Job (selections, Library of the Fathers translation).
— Moralia in Job (selections, O’Donnell translation).
— For the historical significance of St. Gregory’s “Moralia in Job,” see Jean Leclerq’s fascinating The Love of Learning and The Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture
— St. Gregory the Great’s Dialogues.
— St. Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Rule and Letters.
— Pope St. Pius X, Encyclical on St. Gregory the Great (Iucunda Sane, 1904).
— Pope John Paul II, Chirograph on sacred music (2003).
— Church documents on liturgical music (1903-74).
— The Church Music Association of America.
— Frequently asked questions on sacred music (CMAA).
— Today’s readings at Mass: 1 Thes. 4:13-18; Ps. 96:1, 3-5, 11-13; Lk. 4:16-30.
— Where the memorial is kept with special devotion, 2 Cor. 4:1-2, 5-7 and Lk. 22:24-30 may instead be read.
— Carlo Saraceni, “St. Gregory the Great” (1610).

Last week, I received some wondering emails when a couple of gentle commenters discussed the office of “deaconess” in the early Church.

As far as I know, the magisterium has not made any definitive statement about the possibility of ordaining women to the diaconate. In fact, the 1976 CDF document deliberately passed over the issue, saying “it is a question which must be taken up fully by direct study of the texts, without preconceived ideas.” Since then, the Vatican commissioned a group of theologians to study the question, and the theologians recommended against any change in current practice. One commenter, Father Gabriel, acknowledged most of this in his comment. Father Gabriel is most concerned about how we understand the office of deaconess in the ancient Church — and it is a problem, since the office of deaconess has continued in some (separated) eastern churches since ancient times, and was recently restored by the Greek Orthodox Church. The question remains: what is the character of the office? Were deaconesses really performing the same role as the male deacons who were counted among the clergy? I tend to think not, but the ancient sources themselves are unclear.

Those who’d like to learn more about the discussion should read Father A.G. Martimort’s book Deaconesses: An Historical Study, which is published by Ignatius Press. It’s the most thorough treatment of the subject. There are two sober and balanced critiques of the “pro-ordination” position here and here.

Archeologists are excavating the agora of the ancient city of Smyrna (now Izmir, Turkey). The Church of Smyrna plays a leading role in the biblical Book of Revelation; and, of course, it was the see of St. Polycarp, disciple of St. John and master of St. Irenaeus.

Author Carl Sommer spent time in Smyrna while researching his book We Look for a Kingdom: The Everyday Lives of the Early Christians. I asked him what these new digs might mean for patristics nerds. He said…

I’ve been to Smyrna (modern day Izmir), and it is a fascinating place. It’s almost certain that Polycarp spent time in the very agora mentioned in the article, and may even have preached and taught there. The agora was one of the great cultural institutions of the Greco-Roman world. Typically, it would be a rectangular market, with an open area in the middle. The outer perimeter would be lined with a double row of columns, with a roof on top. The area between the columns, under the roof, was called the stoa, or porch. There were two types of agoras, commercial or political (in some cities, like Ephesus, there were two separate agoras, in others, one agora would fill both functions). In the commercial agora, one would find small shops, where you could buy anything from fruits and vegetables, spices, clothing, etc. Sort of like a modern day mall. In the political agora, one would find the public business of the city being conducted. In this type of agora, one would be more likely to encounter philosophers teaching their students in the stoas. St. Paul utilized the agoras to great effect in his public ministry, because everyone visited them, and everyone expected a free flow of ideas to occur there. (See Acts 17:17-18.)

Polycarp was not as free as Paul, since in his day Christianity was proscribed by the Empire, but it seems likely that he at least spent some time in the agora, and, during those periods when the authorities were not particularly interested in persecuting Christians, he may have done some discreet evangelizing there.

Carl’s book is chock-full of that kind of stuff. Highly recommended.

The pope’s audience yesterday focused on Gregory of Nyssa, the younger brother of St. Basil the Great and the greater theologian of the two. Catholic World News, CNS, and Zenit. What follows is the Zenit translation:

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

In the last few catecheses I spoke about two great doctors of the Church of the fourth century, Basil and Gregory Nazianzen, bishop of Cappadocia, in present-day Turkey. Today we add a third, Basil’s brother, St. Gregory of Nyssa, who showed himself to be a man of meditative character, with a great capacity for reflection, and a vivacious intellect, open to the culture of his time. He showed himself in this way to be an original and deep thinker in Christian history.

Born in 335, his Christian formation was carried out largely by his brother Basil — whom he defined as “father and teacher” (Ep 13,4: SC 363, 198) — and by his sister Macrina. He completed his studies, with a particular appreciation for philosophy and rhetoric. At the beginning, he dedicated himself to teaching and got married. Then he too, like his brother and sister, dedicated himself entirely to the aesthetic life. Later he was elected bishop of Nyssa, and showed himself to be a zealous pastor, earning the esteem of the community. Accused of economic embezzlements by heretical adversaries, he had to abandon his episcopal see for a brief time, but then made a triumphant return (cf. Ep. 6: SC 363, 164-170), and continued to commit himself to the defense of the true faith.

Especially after Basil’s death, almost garnering his spiritual legacy, Gregory cooperated in the triumph of orthodoxy. He participated in various synods; he tried to settle divisions between the Churches; he took an active part in the Church’s reorganization; and, as “a pillar of orthodoxy,” he was a protagonist at the Council of Constantinople in 381, which defined the divinity of the Holy Spirit. He received various official appointments from Emperor Theodosius, he gave important homilies and eulogies, and dedicated himself to writing various theological works. In 394, he participated yet again in a synod held in Constantinople. The date of his death is unknown.

Gregory expresses with clarity the scope of his studies, the supreme goal for which he aims in his theological work: to not engage one’s life in vane pursuits, but to find the light that enables one to discern that which is truly useful (cf. “In Ecclesiasten Hom” 1: SC 416, 106-146).

He found this supreme good in Christianity, thanks to which “imitation of the divine nature” is possible (“De Professione Christiana”: PG 46, 244C). With his acute intelligence and his vast knowledge of philosophy and theology, he defended the Christian faith against heretics, who negated the divinity of the Son and the Holy Spirit (like Eunomios and the Macedonians), or negated Christ’s perfect humanity (like Apollinaris).

He commented on sacred Scripture, concentrating on the creation of man. For him the essential theme was creation. He saw the reflection of the Creator in the creature and therein found the path to God. But he also wrote an important book on the life of Moses, which shows him as a man on the path toward God. This hill leading to Mt. Sinai becomes for him an image of our own hill in human life toward true life, toward the meeting with God. He also interpreted the Lord’s prayer, the Our Father, and the beatitudes. In his “Great Catechetical Discourse” (“Oratio Catechetica Magna”) he laid out the fundamental points of theology, not for an academic theology closed in on itself, but to offer catechists a system of reference to keep in mind in their teaching, a sort of framework within which a pedagogic interpretation of the faith could move.

Gregory is also outstanding because of his spiritual doctrine. His theology was not an academic reflection, but an expression of a spiritual life, of a lived life of faith. His reputation as a “father of mysticism” can be seen in various treatises — like “De Professione Christiana” and “De Perfectione Christiana” — the path that Christians must take to reach true life, perfection. He exalted consecrated virginity (“De Virginitate”), and likewise offered his sister Macrina as an outstanding model of life, who remained a guide for him always, an example (cf. “Vita Macrinae”).

He gave various discourses and homilies, and wrote numerous letters. In commenting on the creation of man, Gregory highlights the fact that God, “the best artist, forges our nature so as to make it suitable for the exercise of royalty. Through the superiority given by the soul, and through the very make-up of the body, he arranges things in such a way that man is truly fit for regal power” (“De Hominis Opificio” 4: PG 44, 136B).

But we see how man, in the web of sins, often abusive of creation, does not act in a regal fashion. For this reason, in fact, in order to obtain true responsibility toward creatures, he must be penetrated by God and live in his light. Man is a reflection of that original beauty which is God: “Everything created by God was very good,” writes the holy bishop.

And he adds: “The story of creation witnesses to it (cf. Genesis 1:31). Man was also listed among those very good things, adorned with a beauty far superior to all of the good things. In fact, what else could be good, on par with one who was similar to pure and incorruptible beauty? … Reflection and image of eternal life, he was truly good, no he was very good, with the shining sign of life on his face” (“Homilia in Canticum” 12: PG 44, 1020C).

Man was honored by God and placed above every other creature: “The sky was not made in God’s image, not the moon, not the sun, not the beauty of the stars, no other things that appear in creation. Only you (human soul) were made to be the image of nature that surpasses every intellect, likeness of incorruptible beauty, mark of true divinity, vessel of blessed life, image of the true light, that when you look upon it you become that which he his, because through the reflected ray coming from your purity you imitate he who shines within you. Nothing that exists can measure up to your greatness” (“Homilia in Canticum” 2: PG 44,805D).

Let us meditate on this praise of man. We see how man has been debased by sin. And let us try to return to that original greatness: Only if God is present will man arrive at this his true greatness.

Man, therefore, recognized within him the reflection of the divine light. Purifying his heart, he returns to being, as he was in the beginning, a clear image of God, beauty itself (cf. “Oratio Catechetica” 6: SC 453, 174). In this way man, purifying himself, can see God, as do the pure in heart (cf. Matthew 5:8): “If, with a diligent and attentive standard of living, you will wash away the bad things that have deposited upon your heart, the divine beauty will shine in you. … Contemplating yourself, you will see within you he who is the desire of your heart, and you will be blessed” (“De Beatitudinibus,” 6: PG 44,1272AB). Therefore, one must wash away the bad things that have deposited upon our heart and find again God’s light within us.

Man has as his end the contemplation of God. Only in him can he find his fulfillment. To somehow anticipate this objective already in this life, he must work incessantly toward a spiritual life, a life in dialogue with God. In other words — and this is the most important lesson that St. Gregory of Nyssa gives us — man’s total fulfillment consists in holiness, in a life lived with God, that, in this way, becomes luminous for others and for the world.

I’m the big winner at the Dr. Platypus blogiversary/St. Augustine raffle!