God’s speech is a prominent theme in the book of Hebrews. A fascinating phenomenon regarding God’s speech, and one that has in my opinion not been adequately explored, is that the writer possibly implies that God created by his word (Heb 11:3), preserves creation by his word (Heb 1:3) and will consummate creation by his word (Heb 12:26). This article examines whether the writer indeed had the conviction that God did, does and will do this by his word. This (...) is done by doing grammatico-historical exegesis of Hebrews 11:3, 1:3 and 12:26 and integrating the findings. In so doing, this article contributes to the study of Hebrews’ theology of God’s word. (shrink)

In this article, the background of the phrase ‘and live’ in Hebrews 12:9 is investigated. Although most scholars are silent on the matter, the majority of those who venture to propose a possible background vaguely refer to Proverbs 6:23b. Only a handful of scholars propose other backgrounds. This article aims to fill this lacuna. The first part of the article gives an overview of the argument of Hebrews 12:9 in its context to determine a baseline for the interpretation (...) of the phrase ‘and live’. This is followed by investigating eight possible backgrounds of the phrase and weighing arguments for and against each proposal. Next, the article integrates the findings and concludes that, of all the proposed backgrounds, Deuteronomy 8:1–5 fits the best. If this is correct, the writer uses the phrase ‘and live’ in Hebrews 12:9 to positively exhort his hearers to live life as their heavenly Father intended it, now up to eternity, by wholeheartedly obeying his revelation in his Son. (shrink)

In this article, the background of the phrase 'and live' in Hebrews 12:9 is investigated. Although most scholars are silent on the matter, the majority of those who venture to propose a possible background vaguely refer to Proverbs 6:23b. Only a handful of scholars propose other backgrounds. This article aims to fill this lacuna. The first part of the article gives an overview of the argument of Hebrews 12:9 in its context to determine a baseline for the interpretation (...) of the phrase 'and live'. This is followed by investigating eight possible backgrounds of the phrase and weighing arguments for and against each proposal. Next, the article integrates the findings and concludes that, of all the proposed backgrounds, Deuteronomy 8:1-5 fits the best. If this is correct, the writer uses the phrase 'and live' in Hebrews 12:9 to positively exhort his hearers to live life as their heavenly Father intended it, now up to eternity, by wholeheartedly obeying his revelation in his Son. (shrink)

Our task will be to demonstrate that there are instructive parallels between Hebrew and Buddhist concepts of self. There are at least five main constituents (skandhas in Sanskrit) of the Hebrew self: (1) nepe as living being; (2) rah as indwelling spirit; (3) lb as heart-mind; (4) bāār as flesh; and (5) dām as blood. We will compare these with the five Buddhist skandhas: disposition (samskāra), consciousness (vijñāna), feeling (vedanā), perception (samjñā), and body (rpa). Generally, what we will discover is (...) that both Buddhists and Hebrews have a 'bundle' theory of the self; both see the body as an essential part of personal identity; both overcome the modernist distinction of the inner and the outer; and both avoid language about the will as a distinct faculty. In sum, both present us with a fully somatic and nondualistic view of being human. (shrink)

Upon reading the Hebrew version of Lamentations in comparison to its Greek counterpart, one is immediately struck by the peculiarities, alternatives and variants when reference is made to a Hebrew deity. The Hebrew version alternates between יהוה and אדני, whilst the Greek version sticks to the term κύριος. The Hebrew version does, however, transition into an almost exclusive use of the term והיה from Lamentations 3:55 onwards. The immediate question that comes to mind is why certain terms were used at (...) certain intervals of the text to refer to a Hebrew deity. This study aims at coming to a deeper understanding of whether the idiosyncrasies in relation to the terms were brought about by the nature and character of lamenting, their underlying theologies or whether it is a matter of a different Vorlage. This study will therefore offer a close reading of the Hebrew text in relation to the terms used to reference a Hebrew deity, whilst the focus will fall on the textual variants when it comes to the Greek version of Lamentations.Contribution: This study contributes on three essential levels: (1) working towards a theology of the Septuagint in general and here specific the Greek version of Lamentations, (2) by focusing on the terms used to refer to a Hebrew deity in Lamentations, the study does contribute to a different perspective of reading the Lamentations text and (3) this study contributes towards a more nuanced understanding of a Hebrew deity in general and in the Septuagint in particular. (shrink)

Introduction: beyond reason and revelation -- Pt. I. Reading Hebrew scripture -- Ch. 1. The structure of the Hebrew Bible -- Ch. 2. What is the purpose of the Hebrew Bible? -- Ch. 3. How does the Bible make arguments of a general nature? -- The philosophy of Hebrew scripture: five studies -- Ch. 4. The ethics of a shepherd -- Ch. 5. The history of Israel, Genesis-kings: a political philosophy -- Ch. 6. Jeremiah and the problem of knowing -- (...) Ch. 7. Truth and being in Hebrew scripture -- Ch. 8. Jerusalem and carthage -- Pt. III. Conclusion -- Ch. 9. God's speech after reason and revelation -- Appendix: what is "reason"? some preliminary remarks. (shrink)

The study considers development and use of verb/predicate chaining constructions by Hebrew speakers from early childhood to adolescence, based on analysis of authentic conversational and narrative corpora. Three types of such constructions are considered, ordered hierarchically by stage of acquisition: (1) monoclausal extended predicates consisting of a verb (modal, aspectual, or evaluative) marked for tense or mood and followed by one or more complements in the infinitive – e.g., yaxol la-asot ‘can, is able to-do’; (2) coreferential interclausal predicate chaining; and (...) (3) mature discursively-motivated topic-chaining. Relevant typological features of Modern Hebrew are reviewed to explain the lack of canonic clause-chaining construction in the language (e.g. the paucity of non-finite constructions in everyday usage, lack of an uninflected basic form of verbs, lack of auxiliary verbs expressing categories of aspect and voice, and monolexemic verb-internal complexity). Monoclausal verb-chaining emerges early in the speech of toddlers in interaction with their caretakers, whereas predicate chaining by coordination across clauses occurs only later, and chunking of such constructions at the service of discourse connectivity is a late-developing device. Nonfinite subordination is an advanced form of clause-combining, in contrast to straightforward subordination with the multifunctional subordinator še’that’. The conclusion is that, unlike the obligatorily fused monoclausal “extended predicates”, bi- and multi-clausal predicate chaining represents an optional rhetorical choice on the part of a given speaker-writer in a particular communicative context. (shrink)

This paper compares the associative system of early-learned verbs and body parts in Hebrew with previously published data on American English (Maouene, Josita, Shohei Hidaka & Linda B. Smith. 2008. Body parts and early-learned verbs. Cognitive Science 32(7). 1200–1216). Following the methodology of the former study, 51 Hebrew-speaking college students gave the first body part that came to mind for each of 103 early-learned Hebrew verbs, 81 of which were translational equivalents. Rate of convergence and divergence and underlying patterns were (...) used to make inferences about the constraints at work. Overall convergence (92.3% of the Hebrew data and 93.7% of the English data) reveal similar entropy levels, comparable semantic field shapes of verbs organized by body parts and similar general cluster patterns of verbs by body parts. Most divergence lies in the infrequent responses (offered fewer than 1% of the time) which arise around body parts that are internal, very detailed, very general categorically, used in figurative language, uniquely provided and tend to be subject to cultural taboos. This is a new contribution, as previous work has not quantified the relative proportion of convergent to divergent associations. We discuss how these findings support neural and developmental continuity and stability in the verbal system with respect to the categorization of verbs by body parts cross-culturally. (shrink)

Current controversies about the ordination of women have shown the need for a re‐examination of what the Christian Church means by priesthood. This article looks at the Epistle to the Hebrews’ contribution to our understanding. To that end it focuses on the institution of priesthood in its first‐century Jewish context and shows the use made of it by the author of Hebrews in his presentation of Christian faith.Section 1 emphasizes some all‐important differences between the NT’s use of the (...) language of priesthood and ours. Not least, it nowhere uses “priest” to designate Christian ministers. All the more striking, therefore, is Hebrews’ depiction of Jesus as “high priest”.Section 2 discusses Judaism’ Day of Atonement ceremonies – Hebrews’ dominant cultic model. In the comparison drawn between Christ’s death and exaltation with these rites, he becomes not only the high priest but also the expiatory victim.As far as Judaism’ cultic institutions are concerned, however, Jesus was not and never could be a priest, since he was of the tribe of Judah rather than Levi. Hence Hebrews appeals to Melchizedek. How this non‐Israelite model is used by Hebrews to subvert the whole notion of priesthood as caste is discussed in section 3.Finally, in section 4 Isaacs concludes that for Hebrews there is no longer a role for an ongoing priesthood, since Jesus has definitively achieved access to God, which was its raison d’être. Melchizedekian high priesthood is unique to Christ; neither inherited nor transmitted. Hence, unlike other NT authors, for Hebrews even the church as a corporate body is not a priesthood. As its closing chapters show, in this Epistle the cultic model gives way to the more inclusive one of pilgrimage. (shrink)

The temple schematics in the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), that is, New Jerusalem and Temple Scroll, has often been comparatively examined with the sanctuary structures in the Hebrew Bible (HB) (Ezk 40–48 and Num 2). Typically, in scholarship, the irreconcilable differences between all accounts (regarding the size, shape, name-gate ordering, etc.) is underscored, thus rendering a literary conundrum. This article argues that New Jerusalem and Temple Scroll drew from both Ezekiel 40–48 and Numbers 2 in different ways, purporting the sect(s)’s (...) theologies and ideologies which accords, further, with the life setting of the Qumran communities; the influence of Numbers in the DSS is underscored. These aspects include (1) the eastern orientation of sacred structures and the compound at Khirbet Qumran, (2) the precise locale of the communities at the Dead Sea vis-à-vis Ezekiel 47 and (3) the desert encampment configuration together with its militaristic overtones in Numbers, which corresponds to the DSS sect(s)’s apocalyptic expectations as indicated in the War Scroll. Consequently, the Qumran sect(s) truly saw itself as an alternative priesthood of the forthcoming restored temple of God, even as in the interim they functioned as an alternative sanctuary (4QFlor; 4QMMT; 1QS). The import of Numbers upon the DSS sect(s)’s temple ideologies and priestly theologies is, therefore, equivalent to that of Ezekiel. Contribution: This article traces theological themes of temple and priestly ideologies between and among the Qumran literature and Hebrew Scriptures; both the respective library or canon and methodological approach are core to the historical thought’s aim and scope of HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies. (shrink)

In the introductory part of his first letter to Paulinus (epist. 53), Jerome recurs to a famous literary model: Plinius the Younger. While using his letters 2, 3 and 7, 9 as eminent examples of pagan epistolography and, at the same time, transforming them for Christian purposes, Jerome combines the reception of Plinius with intertextual allusions to other classical authors, i. e. Quintilian and Seneca, and, not the least, to the biblical text, namely Paul’s „Letter to Galatians“ and the „Epistle (...) to the Hebrews“. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"ALL EXISTING IS THE ACTION OF GOD": THE PHILOSOPHICAL THEOLOGY OF DAVID BRAINE DAVID BRADSHAW University ofTexas at Austin Austin, Texas Thou lovest all the things that are, and abhorrest nothing which thou hast made: for never wouldest thou have made any thing, if thou hadst hated il And how could any thing have endured, if it had not been thy will? or been preserved, if not called by (...) thee? But thou sparest all: for they are thine, 0 Lord, thou lover of souls. Wisdom 11:24-26 He is not far from every one of us; for in Him we live, and move, and have our being. Acts 17:27-28 I T HAS long been traditional to regard God as upholding all things in existence. This belief is known as the doctrine of continuous creation; it is a doctrine widely shared by Jews, Christians, and Moslems, and was first clearly articulated by St. Augustine.1 The phrase "continuous creation" can be misleading, for there is more to the doctrine than simply the extension of God's creative act through time. If that were all that is at stake, we would not need to revise our ordinary notion of the creator as craftsman or artist; we might think of God as like a painter who 1 Augustine, De Genesi ad Litteram iv.12. The history of the development of this doctrine has yet to be written, but important sources include Timaeus 4lab; Philo of Alexandria, De Providentia i.7; Colossians 1:17, Hebrews 1:3; John of Damascus, De Fide Orthodoxa i.3; Aquinas, Summa theologiae I, q. 104, a. 1. See also David Winston, Philo of Alexandria (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), 14-17; G. L. Prestige, God in Patristic Thought (London: S.P.C.K., 1964), 31-36; Richard Sorabji, Time, Creation,-and the Continuum (Ithaca: Cornell, 1983), 303-304. 379 380 DAVID BRADSHAW never stops adding new scenes, or a writer continually elaborating his story. That picture will not do. Ifthe painter were to cease painting, what he has made up to that point would remain in existence, whereas it is precisely the ability to stand on its own that the doctrine of continuous creation seeks to deny of what is made. Nor does anything in the relation of artisan to artifact properly convey the special intimacy and presence that the act of continuous creation is supposed to establish between God and creatures. A painting or a story does not "live and move and have its being" in the one who fashions it-nor would even a living and thinking creature, if the manner of its making were solely that of an artisan. These shortcomings raise the question of whether we should seek to replace the image of artisan and artifact with one that is more dynamic. We might think of God as like a singer and of what is made as His song, or of God as like a dancer and of what is made as His dance. By envisioning the act of creation as a "doing" rather than a "making," analogies of this type more adequately indicate the continuing ontological dependence ofcreation on Creator. They also draw our attention to a mode of presence radically different from that of one body to another, the presence of an agent "within" his own actions. They may thus bring us closer to what St. Paul presumably has in mind in the passage quoted from Acts. On the other hand, they have faults of their own, for they are hard to reconcile with creaturely freedom and the reality of secondary causation. How could any kind of "doing" act contrary to the will of its doer? Indeed, how could it act at all? Actions are not causal agents; a song does not act in its own right, but is at best an instrument of the one who sings it. So it would seem that, taken to their logical conclusion, analogies such as that of the singer and his song lead to the denial of both creatures' freedom and their causal efficacy. There have been thinkers in each of the religious traditions mentioned who have been willing to accept these... (shrink)

The ongoing debate surrounding human origins and the Bible is based on interpretations of various sections of the Bible, particularly Genesis 1–3, which are believed by some to contradict some of the tenets of the modern scientific consensus . This paper suggests that an interpretation of Genesis 2–3 in light of a close reading of the Hebrew text and the recognition of its ancient Near Eastern context demonstrates that the scientific consensus need not be in conflict with sound biblical interpretation.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:New Light from Arabic Sources on Galen and the Fourth Figure of the Syllogism NICHOLAS RESCHER The Problem of the Origin of the Fourth Figure FLYING IN THE FACE of the long-standing tradition--going back in Europe to Renaissance times--which credits Galen of Pergamon with the origination of the fourth syllogistic figure, recent authorities have almost to a man evinced doubt about Galen's claim to this innovation. Heinrieh Scholz speaks (...) of "the Galenian syllogistic figure which has been attributed to him, probably wrongly." i j. W. Stakelum concludes his careful discussion of the matter with the categorical assertion that "Galen did not teach the fourth figure." ~ I. M. Bochenski--following Lukasiewicz (see below)--says that the fourth figure "was only ascribed to Galen by a misunderstanding." : William Kneale (also following Lukasiewicz) writes that "it is easy to see how misunderstanding.., by some Arabian philosopher... could have given rise to the tradition that Galen added a fourth figure to Aristotle's syllogistic theory." 4 The currently received account of the matter is that of Jan Lukasiewicz who, in his book on Aristotle's Syllogistic (1951; 2d ed., 1957), presents the known reports about Galen and the fourth figure as follows (I list them in the order in which they came to light) : 1) Several passages in Averroes' (d. 1198) Middle Commentary on Prior Analytics credit Galen with introducing a fourth figure (ad Anal. Pr. I, 5; I, 8; I, 23). These passages, known in Europe through a Renaissance Latin translation of a Hebrew version, provided the basis upon which Zabarella in his work, De Quarta Syllogismorum Figura (in his Opera [Leiden: 1587], pp. 41-53), popularized the "Galenian figure" in European logic. 2) In 1844 Minoides Mynas published in the Preface to his edition of Galen's EisagSg~ dialektik~ an anonymous Greek fragment (late, perhaps 6th century) which states that certain "later scholars" transformed the indirect moods of the first figure added by Theophrastus and Eudeffms into a new fourth figure, citing Galen as the originator of this doctrine.~ 1Abriss der Geschichte der Logik (Miinster: 1931), trans, into English by K. F. Leidecker, ConciseHistory of Logic (NewYork: 1961);p. 38ofthe Englishversion. "Why 'Galenian' Figure?" The New Scholasticism, XVI (1942),289-296. s Formale Logik (Miinchen-Freiburg:1956; 2nd. ed., 1962), trans, into English by Ivo Thomas, A History of Formal Logic (Notre Dame: 1961);p. 142of the Englishversion. Williamand Martha Kneale, The Developmentof Logic (Oxford: 1962),p. 184. Alsoprinted in Karl Kalbfieisch, ~ber Galen s Einleitung in die Logik, 2~. Supplementband der Jahrbi~cherfi~r klassische Philologie (Leipzig:1897), p. 707. This datum casts some 28 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY 3) A Greek fragment was found around 1858 by Karl Prantl in a logical work of the Byzantine scholar Ioannes Italus (llth century) which says that Galen taught the existence of a fourth figure, adding sarcastically that he (Galen) thought thus to appear cleverer than the older logical commentators (presumably Theophrastus and Eudemus are intended), but fell far short.6 4) In 1899 Maximilian Wallies published7 an anonymous Greek scholium (of perhaps the 6th or the 7th century) on Ammonins' commentary on Prior Analytics which states that Galen "says in his Apodictic that there are four figures, because he looks at the compound syllogisms consisting of four terms (i.e., with three premisses )" rather than the simple (three-term, two-premiss) syllogisms of Aristotle. (The scholiast goes on to explain at some length how such compound syllogisms can be sorted into four groups.) It is readily seen that, given these data, two possibilities stand before us: a) Galen did actually invent the traditional fourth figure. Reports (1)-(3) are correct, and the anonymous scholiast of (4) was put on the wrong track by the fact that Galen also said that compound syllogisms of four terms can be classed into four groups. b) Galen did not invent the traditional fourth figure. Only after his time when once the indirect moods of the first figure had--somehow--become systematized into a separate "figure," was this credited to Galen by a mistake along the lines described by the anonymous scholiast. Thus (4) alone is right, and (1)-(3) are mistaken. Which of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:1 & 2 Thessalonians by Douglas FarrowAnna Silvas1 & 2 Thessalonians by Douglas Farrow (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos, 2020), xx + 336 pp.1 and 2 Thessalonians are probably the very first written testimonies of early Christianity. When Paul wrote 1 Thessalonians in AD 50, Our Lord Jesus Christ had "accomplished his exodus in Jerusalem" (see Luke 9:31) not twenty years before. Here we find the paradosis of the (...) Mystery of Christ among the Gentiles, the first articulations of Trinitarian faith (see 1 Thess 1:2-5), expressions of longing for the coming Parousia of Christ, warnings of a strange lawlessness already at work ripening towards a great apostasy and the coming of the "man of lawlessness."Douglas Farrow has pondered 1 and 2 Thessalonians for many years, attested by his numerous expositions and essays over three decades. He brings to his task a ready command of Greek, Hebrew, and Latin, and a vast reading of historical commentary and controversy, an intense personal and ecclesial faith, and a sense of historical, prophetic, and pastoral urgency.Throughout the book are excurses on themes opened up by the words and phrases of St Paul's text: Satan (82-86); the sexual body and virtue in sex, divorce, and remarriage (95-114); the remedial pains of purgatory (beginning in this life); the reality of final retribution, the finality of hell; the untenability of so-called "universalism" (131-41,178-84,192-96); the imminency and the delay of the Parousia (199-204); the apostasy / man of lawlessness / Antichrist; the temple in which the Antichrist seats himself (205-42); the mystery of lawlessness at work, especially in undermining the Church (245-61).In studying Paul's eschatological themes, Farrow necessarily ponders other scriptural texts leading in the same direction: Dani 7-12; Jesus's Olivet Discourse in its most extensive form at Matt 24:1-25:46 (though it really begins at 23:23); 2 Pet 2:1-5, 3:3-15; much of the Rev 6:1 through 19:21; [End Page 398] Deut 32:1-43 (Farrow says the Song of Moses encapsulates the whole of human history); Psalms 97 (LXX 96); 110 (LXX 109); Wis 4-5, 10-19; Sirach 50; Joel; Zech 8-14; Mai 3-4; 2 Mace 5-9; Isa 66:5,14-16; and so on. Farrow holds that Paul worked from knowledge of Jesus's apocalyptic teachings in aversion closest to Matthew's (138,142,184, 189, 205).Farrow takes companions in his exegesis: Irenaeus, Hippolytus, Cyril of Jerusalem, John Chrysostom, Augustine, Haimo, Anselm, Aquinas, and others. He knows Luther's hermeneutics and Calvinist disputes about supra- and infra-sessionism and double predestinationism. He consults more recent prophets, quoting at length from Newman's amazingly prescient 1838 discourses on the last times, Solovyovin 1899, and Fulton Sheen in 1948 and 1958. Another exegete is an artist: Luca Signorelli, whose Disputation of the Antichrist in Orvieto Cathedral Farrow refers to several times.Farrow shows his affinity with Irenaeus. That means cleaving to the visible and invisible truths of the Incarnation of God the Word, respecting concrete and embodied realities, keeping in view the transcendent goal ("The glory of God is a living man—and the life of man is in the vision of God"), instinctively flinching at gnosticizing tendencies—sophisticated re-interpretations of Scripture that elide the rule of faith and dissolve truth. It means a ruling sense of the Kingdom of God as an intervention from heaven rather than generating from man or from the earth. It means a spirit of obedience to the commandments, to the paradosis that descends to us from above in Christ, effected by the Spirit in the ecclesia, the company of brethren destined to "gather to Christ" at his coming (1 Thess 2:1), who practice that final gathering to Christ by participating in the Eucharist on the "Eighth Day," the Lord's Day.Farrow deplores the patchy reading of 1 and 2 Thessalonians in the lectionaries: "While 1 Thessalonians fares a little better, barely half of 2 Thessalonians is read in the Churches" (11). Missing is the eschatologically pivotal 2 Thess 2:3-15, where Paul, distinguishing... (shrink)

The doctrine of the sleeping soul is a doctrine developed to accommodate local wisdom in Indonesia. This doctrine describes the metaphysical part of man after death. A local pearl of wisdom discussed is the Javanese death slametan tradition. The purpose of this article is to develop the doctrine of the sleeping soul according to the narrative of Jesus’ words in Mark 5:35–42 and the Prophet Daniel in Daniel 12:1–3 in representing the metaphysical anthropological view of the Javanese death slametan tradition (...) in terms of the theory of collective memory. The descriptions of the sleeping soul doctrine in the Javanese death slametan tradition are as follows: Firstly, there is a collective memory in giving appreciation to the metaphysical side of humans after death. Secondly, the sleeping soul doctrine is developed from the collective memory of the Javanese death slametan tradition and the Hebrew view. Thirdly, the sleeping soul doctrine is a contextualisation doctrine of the Javanese death slametan tradition. Contribution: The implications of this research give birth to the doctrine of the sleeping soul in the framework of the preservation of Javanese culture, especially in the Javanese culture of death [ slametan ]. This study proves that Christianity has contributed to caring for culture rather than alienating it. (shrink)

About the Republic is the only commentary left by Averroes, the Commentator, so called on behalf of his commentaries on Aristotle’s work. Although the original in Arabic is lost, there is a medieval version in Hebrew and two later translations in Latin from the Hebrew version. Averroes’ Commentary on the ‘Republic’ – divided in three Books – can be considered an original work as only 1/3 of it corresponds to the platonic treatise. Averroes presents in it aristotelic concepts drawn from (...) the Nicomachean Ethics and also several notions from Alfarabi’s political works. He also presents his own thoughts and offers criticisms of his own society. KEY WORDS – Plato’s Republic; a commentary or an original work? Ethics. Politics. Cardinal virtues. Ideal city. Education. (shrink)

How do people create coherence? Is it this creation of coherence which makes life understandable? Is not also faith, the belief in God, grounded on such a belief that the universe is understandable, although not to us? Our coherence building is not merely an individual activity, but thoroughly influenced by our education, religion, culture, and the society we live in. These provide us with conventions of thinking and knowledge, they are the building blocks of our construction of coherence. However, sometimes (...) they have become the fossilized ideas never to be questioned. The main question of this article is if linearity in the western tradition of causal thinking is not such a fossilized idea. Starting point is the story of the beginning in Gen. 1, because it is one of the fundamental proteins in the DNA string of the Jewish and Christian linear thinking. The aim of the article is to show how a non-linear approach to our conventions of coherence building may offer a more comprehensive view on causality, and how tales of vision in the Hebrew Bible, and especially in Genesis 1-3, support and broaden this view. (shrink)

Long ago, God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of (...) the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs. (shrink)

In the introduction to his sermon, the writer of Hebrews suggests that God’s revelation unfolded from his so-called ‘Old Testament’ revelation to his ‘New Testament’ revelation in his Son (Heb. 1:1–2a). By doing a thorough exegesis of Hebrews 1:1–2a, the author’s view of such an unfolding revelation is confirmed. From this conclusion, certain hermeneutical implications of the unfolding of God’s revelation are drawn for believers and scholars today. Among others, it is determined that God’s revelation is progressive, that (...) his revelation in his Son is superior, climactic and final, and that God’s final revelation in his Son can only be understood within the context of his Old Testament revelation, and vice versa.Keywords: Hebrews; Hebrews 1:1-2a; unfolding; revelation; hermeneutics. (shrink)

Greek versions of the Hebrew Scriptures were available to those who wanted to interpret them in light of the Jesus movement, and in relation to first century Judaism. These interpreters had a reasonable amount of freedom to use any of the exegetical methods at their disposal and to approach it from an array of hermeneutical possibilities. This was most certainly the case for the authors of Luke-Acts and Hebrews. The interest with this study is in the discrepancies, peculiarities and (...) inconsistencies of the comparative propositions offered by the oration in Acts 2 and Hebrews 1, and whether they produce independent, alternative theologies. Contribution: To this end, the study aims to determine to what extent the Greek Old Testament (LXX) contributes to the theologies produced in these two passages. (shrink)

This article examines the phrase, tosoutō kreittōn genomenos tōn angelōn (Heb 1:4a) (having become as much superior to the angels) in the exordium of the epistle to the Hebrews in the light of Ewe angelology. The article employs both comparative and mother tongue hermeneutical approaches as its methodologies. An exegetical analysis of the cosmic superiority of Christ over angels in Hebrews 1:4a was carried out to situate the text in its historical and literary contexts. This was followed by (...) an excursus on angels to explore the angelic world of the text, and a comparative discussion with angelology motif in Ewe cosmology. Finally, the article assesses the cosmic supremacy of Christ over the angelic world of the Ewe against the backdrop of the continuous quest for spiritual protection in Ewe-Ghanaian spirituality today. The quest for spiritual protection in popular Ewe-Ghanaian Christianity today stems from the perception that Christ’s cosmic superiority over the cosmos he created and owns including angelic beings alone is not enough and that one would need to resort to other mediums to enhance access to God for quicker solutions to one’s predicaments. This has resulted in the introduction of syncretic elements in spirituality. To cure the syncretic elements in Ewe Christian spirituality, this article makes the following proposals: Firstly, the preaching (kerygma) and teaching (didache) of the gospel message must be given priority in the pulpit. Secondly, Christian educators must constantly emphasise Christ’s superiority and his exclusive mediatory function over Ewe cosmic beings to ensure that old and new converts to Christianity view him alone as sufficient for their spiritual development.Contribution: The article contributes to the academic knowledge of the priestly Christology in Hebrews situating it within the context of mother tongue biblical hermeneutics. (shrink)

ḥeleḳ 1-3. Toldot Bet Hilel -- ḥeleḳ 4. [without special title].

Although the Hebrew source text term אֶרֶז [cedar] is translated in the majority of cases as κέδρος [cedar] or its adjective κέδρινος in the Septuagint, there are cases where the following translations and strategies are used: (1) κυπάρισσος [cypress] or the related adjective κυπαρίσσινος, (2) ξύλον [wood, tree] and (3) non-translation and deletion of the source text item. This article focuses on these range of translations. Using a complexity theoretical approach in the context of editorial theory (the new science of (...) exploring texts in their manuscript contexts), this article seeks to provide explanations for the various translation choices (other than κέδρος and κέδρινος). It further aims to determine which cultural values of the translators have influenced those choices and how they shape the metaphorical and symbolic meaning of plants as determined by Biblical Plant Hermeneutics, which has placed the taxonomy of flora on a strong ethnological and ethnobotanical basis. (shrink)

Across cultures people construct spatial representations of time. However, the particular spatial layouts created to represent time may differ across cultures. This paper examines whether people automatically access and use culturally specific spatial representations when reasoning about time. In Experiment 1, we asked Hebrew and English speakers to arrange pictures depicting temporal sequences of natural events, and to point to the hypothesized location of events relative to a reference point. In both tasks, English speakers (who read left to right) arranged (...) temporal sequences to progress from left to right, whereas Hebrew speakers (who read right to left) arranged them from right to left, replicating previous work. In Experiments 2 and 3, we asked the participants to make rapid temporal order judgments about pairs of pictures presented one after the other (i.e., to decide whether the second picture showed a conceptually earlier or later time-point of an event than the first picture). Participants made responses using two adjacent keyboard keys. English speakers were faster to make “earlier” judgments when the “earlier” response needed to be made with the left response key than with the right response key. Hebrew speakers showed exactly the reverse pattern. Asking participants to use a space-time mapping inconsistent with the one suggested by writing direction in their language created interference, suggesting that participants were automatically creating writing-direction consistent spatial representations in the course of their normal temporal reasoning. It appears that people automatically access culturally specific spatial representations when making temporal judgments even in nonlinguistic tasks. (shrink)

Typical hermeneutical approaches to the Deuteronomic Code, and to scriptural legal codes more generally, attend to genre either for the sake of historical-critical concerns as an end in themselves, or as a gateway to abstracted content. This article argues, conversely, that the genre of the code is not disconnected from its content, and that its form—imaginative, pragmatic propositions based on communal hope—can and should be imitated in the practice of theological ethics. As best seen in Deuteronomy 15, the communicative genius (...) of the code is that it (1) imagines a specific, viable future, (2) empowers moral agency, (3) forges communal identity, and (4) addresses unique historical situations. Appropriating the genre, rather than the content, thus has unique potential to give traction to modern ethical scholarship through conscious, kerygmatic contingency. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Adam Smith and the History of the Invisible HandPeter HarrisonFew phrases in the history of ideas have attracted as much attention as Smith’s “invisible hand,” and there is a large body of secondary literature devoted to it. In spite of this there is no consensus on what Smith might have intended when he used this expression, or on what role it played in Smith’s thought. Estimates of its significance (...) range from the laudatory—“one of the great ideas of history,” to the dismissive—“an ironic joke.”1 Commentators are also divided on whether Smith’s “invisible hand” has teleological or providential connotations, or whether it is simply a rhetorical device. John Kenneth Galbraith declared that we do a grave disservice to Smith if we insist on understanding his invisible hand as a kind of “spiritual force.”2 Spenser J. Pack maintained that the invisible hand was “a rhetorical device which Smith made up, and knew he made up” and certainly “not [End Page 29] a theological underpinning for Smith’s social and/or economic theory.”3 Others have adopted the opposite view. Jacob Viner contended that Smith’s economic theory becomes unintelligible if “the invisible hand” is evacuated of its theological significance.4 For David A. Martin, Smith’s use of the phrase pointed to the foundational role played by divine wisdom in Smith’s thought, while for Andy Denis, “the invisible hand concept in Smith was entirely and unambiguously theological.”5Surprisingly, given this situation, a systematic study of the uses of the expression before Smith has yet to be made.6 Indeed, it is not unusual to find claims that Smith invented the expression himself, or that it was primarily owing to his influence that the phrase first became widespread.7 Those who have made perfunctory efforts at a history of the phrase generally point to a few scattered literary references with a view either to judging them irrelevant to Smith’s oeuvre, or to suggesting that Smith’s (admittedly meagre) uses of the phrase are empty metaphors. This paper seeks to remedy this deficiency, offering a history of “the invisible hand” with a particular focus on the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. What clearly emerges from this survey is that the concept was relatively common by the time Smith came to use it. Moreover, while “invisible hand” was used in a variety of contexts, by far the most common involved reference to God’s [End Page 30] oversight of human history and to his control of the operations of nature. Almost certainly, then, when readers encountered the phrase in Smith, they would have understood it as referring to God’s unseen agency in political economy. Whether Smith was himself committed to such a view is more difficult to determine, but the history of the expression and the contexts in which it appears in Smith’s writings offer some support for providentialist readings.Hidden and Invisible HandsThe expression “invisible hand” was not commonly used before the seventeenth century. It does not occur in classical literature (although some have suggested that the phrase may be found in Ovid).8 Neither does it appear in the Hebrew Bible or the New Testament.9 The earliest reference that I have found occurs in a Greek liturgy which invokes God’s “invisible right hand which is full of blessing.”10 The liturgy was used by the Alexandrian Church and its origins date back (probably) to the second century. However, [End Page 31] the expression is relatively rare in subsequent patristic and medieval writings. In one of his Old Testament commentaries, Alexandrian Church father Origen (185–254 ce) attributed the Israelites’ defeat of the Amalekites, recorded in Exodus 17, to the agency of God’s hidden hand.11 Some later sources made reference to the work of a “hidden” or “invisible” hand of God in restoring individuals to health. Augustine of Hippo (354–430 ce) thus spoke of the hidden hand of God which heals and makes whole.12 A medieval source refers similarly to a wound being healed by the touch of an invisible hand.13 French Benedictine Petrus Cellensis (1115–83 ce) alluded to the action... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 38.1 (2000) 27-40 [Access article in PDF] Sensible Qualities: The Case of Sound Robert Pasnau University of Colorado 1. Background The Aristotelian tradition distinguishes the familiar five external senses from the less familiar internal senses. Aristotle himself did not in fact use this terminology of 'external' and 'internal,' but the division became common in the work of Arab and Hebrew philosophers, and in (...) the Latin West the distinction is taken for granted.1 I am going to put to one side the obscurities involved in the various internal senses of phantasia, imagination, memory, etc.; I will instead focus on the external senses. These five external senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch—have their familiar counterparts in the external world: color, sound, odor, flavor, and the various tangible qualities. (The tangible qualities, unfortunately, resist being reduced to a single genus, and are typically listed as hot and cold, wet and dry, etc., where this etc. stands in for the complete list that one might or might not be able to give.2 ) These sensibilia (I will simply speak of sensibles) were known as the proper or special objects of the external senses.In addition to these proper objects, the senses were taken to have five common objects—size, shape, number, motion, rest—and also an unlimited variety of incidental objects, the per accidens sensibles—Coriscus, one's enemy, a horse race, etc. These per accidens sensibles are in a way the most interesting and important sense objects of all. They are interesting, first, inasmuch as one of the hardest and most interesting problems about perception is the problem of seeing as, which seems to be precisely the phenomenon at issue [End Page 27] here. They are important, also, inasmuch as genuine perception, as we now think of it, almost always involves the perception of something sensible per accidens. Our everyday sensory experiences revolve around the experience of seeing objects of certain kinds. We can of course step back and decide that what we are really seeing is colors and shapes. But that is not how we ordinarily see things.Despite their interest and importance, I want to put aside these per accidens sensibles, and focus instead on the common and proper sensibles, both of which Aristotle described as sensible per se (kath' hauta). In his classic statement on the objects of sensation, at De anima II 6, 418a7-25, Aristotle suggests that the grounds for distinguishing the per se from the per accidens are that the former sensibles are capable in their own right of making an impression on the senses. Color itself affects the external senses, and so does size. Coriscus, however, considered as Coriscus, does no such thing. He affects the senses only inasmuch as he is colored, perfumed, etc.3 To focus on the per se sensibles, then, is to focus on those things in the world that are suited to make impressions on the external senses.Why are some such sensibles proper, whereas others are common? The well-known rule of thumb here, reflected in how we refer to these sensibles, is that each proper sensible can be perceived by only one of the external senses. The common sensibles are those per se sensibles that fail this test. (Note that, of the common sensibles, only number, movement and rest are truly common to all five of the senses; shape and size are perceptible only by touch and sight.4 ) It is not clear, however, that this is the appropriate criterion for distinguishing the proper from the common sensibles. Albert the Great, for instance, argues that a proper sensible must meet three tests: (1) It is sensed by only one sense; (2) this sense is not capable of error with respect to it; and (3) the organ of this sense is naturally suited to be affected by it alone.5 The last of these tests is problematic, however, for at least two reasons. First, it is problematic for touch, given that the tangible qualities resist being reduced to a single genus. Second, more seriously... (shrink)

The book reconstructs the history of Western ethics. The approach chosen focuses the endless dialectic of moral codes, or different kinds of ethos, moral doctrines that are preached in order to bring about a reform of existing ethos, and ethical theories that have taken shape in the context of controversies about the ethos and moral doctrines as means of justifying or reforming moral doctrines. Such dialectic is what is meant here by the phrase ‘moral traditions’, taken as a name for (...) threads of moral discourse, made in turn of other interwoven threads, including transmission of shared codes, appeals to reform of prevailing custom, rational argument about the justification of some precept on the basis of some shared general teaching or principle, and rational argument about the ultimate basis for principles and justification of authoritative teaching. That is, the approach adopted to the reading of ethical texts depends on a firm belief in the fact that philosophers hardly created any ethical doctrine out of nothing. The main point this book tries to highlight is how different philosophical theories emerged and followed each other as a result of attempts at accounting for what was going on in the world of moral traditions. Changes were propelled by controversies between different schools, and highly abstract arguments were the unintended effects of moves made by controversialists forced to transform (and occasionally to turn upside down) their own doctrines in order to face the challenge posed by other arguments. This is the reason why the book examines not only texts that already enjoy pride of place in the history of philosophy (Aristotle, Kant, Hegel), but also other texts usually treated in the histories of religions (the Bible, the Talmud, the Quran), and others considered to be much less philosophical (Plutarchus, Pufendorf). -/- 1. Plato and a response to ethical scepticism. Two different traditions of morality in VI-V century Greece are described. The birth of philosophical questioning of traditional morality and temporal and spatial variation of custom is described within the context of the v century crisis, the demise of traditional aristocratic and tyrannical rule and the birth of democracy. Two conflicting answers to the challenge are reconstructed, namely conventionalist or immoralist theories formulated by the Sophists and the eudemonist and intellectualist Socratic theory. Plato’s own reformulation of Socrates answer to the Sophists is reconstructed. His psychological views, his classification of the four cardinal virtues and his political theory are described as parts of a unitary system, culminating in an extremely realist moral ontology identifying the idea of the good with the essence of the (moral and extra-moral) world itself. -/- 2. Aristotle and the invention of practical philosophy. Aristotle’s invention of practical philosophy as a field separated from first philosophy is shown to be an implication of his break with Plato moral ultra-realism. Aristotle’s agenda in his moral works is arguably dependent on a polemical intention, namely dismantling Socratic intellectualism. The semi-inductive or virtuously circular method of practical philosophy is illustrated, starting with the received opinions of the better and wiser individuals and trying dialectically to sift what is left of mistake and inconsistence in such opinions, finally trying to correct mistakes and make the overall practical science more consistent. The chapter illustrates then the relationship of individual ethics, or ‘monastics’, with the art and the science of the pater familias, or ‘economics’, and the science of the ruler and citizen, or politics. The nature of virtues, or better, excellences of character, is discussed, highlighting the basic role of hexis, or ‘disposition’. Prudence, or better practical wisdom, is the focus of the chapter. Its relationship with bouleusis or deliberation is examined, and its autonomous status vis-à-vis theoretical knowledge is stressed. -/- 3. Diogenes and philosophy as a way of life. The chapter provides an overview of Hellenistic ethics, which almost amounts to Hellenistic schools of philosophy, in so far as ‘philosophy’ became in these centuries primarily the name for a way of life. The typical character of the Cynical movement is highlighted, that of a school of life, not a school aimed at providing any kind of intellectual training was to be provided. -/- 4. Epicurus and ethics as self-care. The peculiar character of the Epicurean school is described, a combination of a science of well-being aiming, more than at pleasure as in the popular view, at reduction of useless suffering, of unnecessary needs, and at a balanced selection of pleasures of the best and most durable kind. -/- 5. Epictetus and ethics as therapy of the passions. The various phases of Stoicism are described, and the shifting place given to ethics in the Stoic system of idea, culminating in the paradoxical view of ethics, its impossibility in principle notwithstanding, as the only truly significant and necessary part of philosophy. Cicero is treated, showing how his own synthesis of various Hellenistic trends is as a truly philosophical enterprise, deserving serious consideration after one or two centuries when he was confined to the role of literate. Epictetus is chosen as the best example of what the Stoic tradition could yield, an art of living based on sophisticated introspection, in turn aimed at making a kind of cognitive therapy possible, dismantling obnoxious passions at their root by systematically correcting false representations. -/- 6. Philo and the reconciliation of Torah and Platonism. A reconstruction of basic ideas from a few books of the Hebrew Bible is provided, starting with the Prophetic tradition and the focus on God’s mercy as the source of motivation and standard for human behaviour. Then a comparative analysis is undertaken of a parallel tradition, namely the three codifications of the Torā (Law or, better, Instruction), highlighting how a core of moral ideas may be recognized as a basis and preamble of codification of civil law, cultural practice, and regulation of ritual purity. The importance of Leviticus is stressed as the turning point when emphasis mercy, typical of the Prophetic tradition, is combined with the legal tradition, yielding the change in sensibility of the Second Temple time. Philo of Alexandria is described as one of the three leading figures – together with Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Yeshua – at the apex the emergence of the mentioned new sensibility, gradually including mercy as an essential part of justice and establishing the starting point of both the Rabbinic and the Christian tradition. This consists precisely in the precept of one’s neighbour’s love or of the golden rule, two eventually identical precepts whose meaning is arguably more sober and sensible than the long-lasting Christian tradition deriving from John and Augustine has made us believe and no novelty vis-à-vis so-called Ancient-Testament teachings. -/- 7. Augustine and Christianity as Neo-Platonism. The first section examines the moral doctrines of so-called 'ethical Treaties' from the Talmud, a group of treaties, among which the best known is Pirqé Avot, that were left out of the six "orders" of the canon as they did not fit in any of the six groups of issues ritual or legal on which the division was based. According to Maimonides, their peculiar theme is provided by the Deòt, 'opinions', i.e., mental dispositions, that is, the translation of the Greek term hexeis and Arab akhlak (in turn providing in this language the name for ethics as such). The three topics I reconstruct are: i) the notion of Torah: The Torah is understood as the world order itself, or as the ‘Wisdom’ that existed even before creation and was ‘the tool by which the world was built’; however, the Torah is an earthly and human entity, as it was "received" by humans, and from that very moment belongs to them; ii) the relationship between love of God and love of neighbour; the treaties require us to study and practice the Torah ‘for its own sake’, that is, require us to act out of love, not out of fear or hope of reward; iii) the idea of sanctification of daily life: having disappeared with the destruction of the Temple the possibility of any conflict between liturgical service and everyday life, the latter is assumed to be in itself divine service: to give food to the poor has the same value as sacrifices in the Temple, and as an implication, the insistence become recurrent on the goodness of created things in themselves along with a polemic against ascetic currents. The conclusions drawn are: i) the moral teachings of the Talmud and those of Yeshua are, rather than similar, virtually identical; one may safely say that the precept of love and the golden rule are central ones for all Talmudic rabbis, that mercy plays an indispensable role alongside with justice, and the latter is not a different thing from one’s neighbour’s love; ii) a peculiarity of Talmud rabbis facing Yeshua is the idea of study as worship, and knowledge as a source of justice; but this is an idea of Judaism after the Temple's destruction that cannot be attributed to the Pharisees of Yeshua’s time; iii) the relation of study and practice in the Talmud parallels that between faith and deeds in Paul's epistles, that is, respectively faith or learning are a necessary and sufficient condition to be recognized as righteous , but deeds are the inevitable effect of either faith or learning. The sayings ascribed to Yeshua are examined first, yielding the conclusion that a close equivalent may be found for every saying in Talmudic literature and yet the whole is ascribed to one rabbi, with rather consistent stress on God’s mercy and unconditional forgiving as the mark of true imitation of God. Thus, Yeshua’s teaching is pure Judaism. The third section describes briefly the galaxy of Gnostic currents and Manichaeism, trying to sketch the profile of moral teachings resulting from an encounter of Asian spiritual traditions, Hellenistic lore and sparks of teachings from apocalyptic Jewish currents. The last section summarizes the turbulent history of several encounters between Christian currents and Hellenistic philosophical schools. The first one was with late Cynicism. Recent, rather controversial, literature discovered the jargon and a few topics from the Stoic-Cynical popular philosophy in a few books from the New Testament itself. This, far from proving that Rabbi Yeshua had been influenced by cynic preachers, is a proof of the necessity felt by Christian preachers to translate the original ‘Christian’ teaching into a Greek lexicon deeply impregnated with cynic terminology. The second was with Platonism, yielding the mild and temperate moral teaching of Clemens of Alexandria, teaching the sanctity of nature and the human body, the joy of moderate fruition of ‘natural’ kinds of pleasures, and the beauty of the marital life – in short, the opposite of the standard picture of Medieval Christianity. Ambrose of Milan brings about a different kind of synthesis, namely with Middle Platonism, where Stoic themes prevail. The most shocking case is Augustine, where an early Manichean education is overcome in a former phase by a synthesis of Plotinian Neo-Platonism and Christian preaching, yielding a sustained polemic with the Manicheans and rather optimistic views on life and Creation, the body and sexuality, and Hebrew-Judaic tradition not far from Clemens of Alexandria. In a later phase, occasioned by controversy on the opposite front, with such Christian currents as the Pelagians and Donatists, Augustine comes back to heavily anti-Judaic and world-denying ascetic attitudes where is earlier Manichean upbringing seems to emerge again. The tragedy of medieval Christianity will be the later Augustine’s overwhelming influence. A final section is dedicated to the monastic tradition where a curious mixture of world-denying asceticism with an astonishingly penetrating ‘science’ of introspection emerges. -/- 8. Al Farabi and the reconciliation of Islam and Platonism. The Qurān and the qadit, that is, collections of sayings ascribed to the prophet Muhammad contain a wealth of precepts and catalogues of virtues mirroring moral contents from the Jewish and the Christian traditions, among them the basic notion of imitation of the Deity, where mercy is assumed to be its basic trait. An important tradition within Islam, namely Sufism, stressed to the utmost degree the role of mercy, turning Islam into a mystic doctrine centred on retreat from the world, abandonment to God’s will, and a peaceful and fraternal attitude to our fellow-beings. A secular literary tradition originating in the Sassanid Empire, the literature of advice to the Prince had for a time a widespread influence in the newly constituted Arabic-Islamic commonwealth. In a later phase, the legacy of Hellenic philosophy made its way into the intellectual elite of the Islamic world. The first important legacy was Platonic, and the Republic became the main text for Islamic Platonism. Al-Farabi wrote an enjoyable remake of the Platonic Republic, arguing that the citizen’s virtues were the basis on which the political building needs to rest. The secular lawgiver is enlightened by the light of reason in his everyday practice of governance, but room is made for the Prophet as the voice of revealed truth that confirms and completes the rational truth that philosophy may afford. In a second phase also Aristotelian and Stoic influence were assimilated. Miskawayh’s treatise was the masterwork at the time Arabic philosophy reached its Zenith. It is a treatment of the soul’s diseases and their remedies, combining the Aristotelian doctrine of the golden mean with the Stoic doctrine of the passions and elements of Galenic medicine. Towards the eleventh-twelve centuries a war raged among theologians and philosophers, finally won by the former with disappearance of philosophy as such. The newly established mainstream, yet, was no kind of intolerant fanaticism. It drew from the work of mystic theologian Al-Ghazālī, the best heir of Sufism, teaching a tolerant and peaceful attitude to our fellow-beings and a passive attitude to destiny as an expression of the Divine will. -/- 9. Moshe ben Maimon and the reconciliation of Torah and Aristotelian ethics. The encounter between the Talmudic tradition and Hellenic philosophy had taken place a first time in Alexandria at the time of Philo but the two traditions had parted way again. In fact, the kind of Platonic Judaism founded by Philo survived only within Christianity, in the fourth Gospel and then in writings by Clemens of Alexandria. The Talmudic literature had absorbed just less striking traits from the Hellenic Philosophy, namely an idea of ethics as care of the self and a role for the education of character as propaedeutic to theoretical knowledge. In the Arabic-Islamic world, a second round started when Jewish authors writing in Arabic undertook the task to prove the full compatibility of the tradition deriving from Torah and Platonic philosophy. The culmination of this attempt is provided by Moshe ben Maimon who tried to use Aristotelian ethics as a language into which the teaching from the Pirké Avot could be translated. -/- 10. Thomas Aquinas and the reconciliation of Christian morality and Aristotelian ethics. In the first section the fresh start is described of philosophical ethics in Latin Europe at the turn of the Millennium. In a first phase, Anselm and Peter Abelard built on a Platonic and Augustinian legacy. In this phase. remarkable innovations are introduced, including Abelard’s claim of the obliging character of erring consciousness. In a second phase, the rediscovery of Nicomachean Ethics thanks to Latin translation of Arabic versions gives birth to a new wave of ethical studies, recovering the very idea of Aristotelian practical philosophy, with the potential implication of full legitimization of natural morality, i.e. ethics without Revelation. Aquinas’s ethics is a theological ethics out of which it would be vain to try to extract a self-contained philosophical ethics. His treatment of topics in philosophical ethics, yet, does not boil down to repetition of Aristotelian arguments but is rather a creative reshaping of such arguments. For example, he introduces also in the practical philosophy a first principle parallel to the principle of non-contradiction; and he also carries out a synthesis of Aristotelianism, Stoicism, and neo-Platonism. Even though it is essentially moral theology, Aquinas’s doctrine - unlike Augustine – grants full citizenship to "natural" morality, firstly by rejecting the claim that the corruption of human nature due to the original sin is so radical as to leave "pure nature" incapable of moral goodness. The doctrine is presented in a more sophisticated formulation in a few of the Quaestiones, such as De Malo and De Veritate, in the Summa contra Gentes and in the commentaries to Aristotle than in the famous Summa Theologica, but the latter work includes the only or the largest exposition of some decisive part of the theory. Thus, the Summa Theologica should be read for what it is more than criticized for not being what it was not meant to be. It was not meant to be the brilliant synthesis of all that Reason he had been able to produce with what Revelation had added about which the Neo-Thomists used to dream, but rather a manual for the training of preachers and confessors, where theoretical claims are not too demanding and a few serious tensions are left. Besides a jump between the Prima Secundae and the Secunda Secundae, being the former an essay in virtue theory and the latter a handbook for confessors, the most serious tension is perhaps the one between the ethics of right reason presented in most of Ia-IIae and the eudemonistic ethics developed in quaestiones 1-5 of the same part; the alternative ethical theory which also may be found in Augustine, the Stoic view of a cosmic reason eventually coincident with the moral law, was believed by Anselm (followed by John Duns Scotus and William of Ockham) to be incompatible with eudemonism. It is questionable whether Thomas could reduce the tension proving that it is just an apparent tension, in so far as the right reason and bliss derived from knowledge of God tend to coincide, but this is just a conjecture. Thomas’s ethics is a virtue ethic, not a law-based one, and moral judgment focuses on the virtues, particularly charity, not on the commandments and even less on absolute prohibitions; Thomas, however, would not have considered a drastic alternative between law and the virtues such as the one which has been advanced in late twentieth-century philosophy to be justified. Nonetheless, when it discusses ‘special’ virtues, it ceases to be an ethics of virtue and becomes a disappointing and often contradictory discussion of legal and illegal acts. Such a discussion takes most of the time ‘reasonable’ middle positions on controversial issues but not the alternative approach that Aristotelianism would have made possible; even when some occasional Aristotelian claim shows up, such as money’s barrenness as a reason against usury, this seems to be made by an author who apparently ignores the Aristotelian Thomas of the Prima Secundae. It is an ethic of human autonomy which recognizes the binding character of the individual conscience and, potentially, even a duty to disobey unjust laws. It is true that what Thomas writes in his discussion of death penalty and persecution of heretics is simply disgusting, and yet we should blame Thomas the man, not Thomist ethical theory. Finally, Thomas’s ethics is not ethical ‘absolutism’, as both traditionalist Catholic theologians and secularist enemies of dogmatic morality tend to believe. It is instead an ethic of prudential judgment. Exceptions to this approach – or better results of logical fallacies – are such claims as the absolute character of negative precepts and of the existence of "intrinsically evil acts", claims that simply cease to make sense in the light of Thomas’s own distinction between human act and natural act, carrying consequences Thomas did not live long enough to draw or was not consistent enough to dare to draw. -/- 11. Francisco de Vitoria and casuistry. The first topic illustrated is the discussion about the notion of pura natura, namely the human condition after the original sin and before divine revelation. The core notion was already there in Aquinas but was later developed by Caietanus (Thomas de Vio) with a number of interesting implications: firstly a view of human nature as such much more positive than Augustine’s and his followers’ view, including both Calvinists and Jansenists; secondly, the implication that the philosopher’s morality, as opposed to the Christian’s morality, is a quite respectable kind of morality; thirdly, that theocracy and prosecution of the unfaithful lacked justification, with more far-fetching consequences than Aquinas himself had dared to draw. The second topic is casuistry, a new name for a comparatively older way of thinking, which was already there in late Stoicism and Cicero as well as in the Talmudic literature. This is an approach aimed at yielding probable enough solutions for doubtful cases even in absence of completely safe staring points. The genre developed from medieval reference books for confessors and became by the sixteenth-century a sophisticated tool-box for dealing with various fields of applied ethics. Francisco Vitoria, the main authority of Baroque Scholasticism, was a controversial figure, among the proponents of the new discipline of casuistry and a consistent proponent of more separation between the religious and the civil authority, stricter limits to the legitimacy of war, innate rights of non-Christian nations in the New World based on the notion of pura natura, providing a standard of ‘natural’ goodness, previous to revelation, on which the Indian nations were judged to live in a naturally good condition, provided with the institutions of family, justice, and religion had accordingly a right to full respect by Christian sovereigns. Bartolomé de Las Casas, arguing along similar lines, was the leader of a historical battle in defence of the rights of the Indios. -/- 12. Michel de Montaigne and the art of living. A short description of one of the Renaissance Phyrronism, one of the classical philosophies revived in the fifteenth and sixteenth century. Montaigne combines the sceptical epistemology with an understanding of ethics – indeed of philosophy as a whole – in terms of an art of living inspired by two basic ideas, sagesse, that is, practical wisdom as the only kind of rationality available after theology, science, and tradition have declared bankrupt, and an aesthetic ideal of self-transformation through the art of writing and introspection. -/- 13. Pierre Nicole and neo-Augustinianism. The chapter illustrates first the vicissitudes of Augustinianism newly born after the late medieval triumph of Thomist Aristotelianism in the alternative Protestant and Catholic versions processed by the Calvinists and the Jansenists. Then it illustrates the doctrines of Pierre Nicole, Blaise Pascal’s best disciple, on the impossibility of introspection, on the ubiquity of self-deception, on the incurably evil character of the passion of love, and on the two moralities, the one of the man of the world, the morality of honesty which is indispensable for granting peace and order but devoid of any true value for eternal salvation, since the same external behaviour may be prompted by opposite motivations, and the morality of charity, the only true one but also useless to society. The third topic is Pierre Malebranche’s view of self-deception as a ubiquitous phenomenon accounting for human action and responsibility and his reformulated theory of self-love, no less ubiquitous than for Nicole and yet not as incurably evil, given the distinction between morally indifferent and even necessary amour de soi and vicious amour proper, a distinction on which the whole of Rousseau’s moral and political theory rests. -/- 14. Samuel von Pufendorf and the new science of morality. The chapter is dedicated to the discovery of the idea of a ‘new moral science’. Hugo Grotius is discussed first highlighting the real character of his project, much closer to the Thomist idea of a natural law accessible to non-corrupted human reason when human beings are living in a state of pura natura. Then Hobbes’s combination of scepticism, voluntarism, and conventionalism is described and both the continuity with Grotius’s new science, in the search for non-revealed rational morality, and the break with him, in the adoption of voluntarism and refusal of an intellectualist view of natural law, are illustrated. Pufendorf’s work is illustrated as a synthesis of the two previous attempts and the – up to Schneewind underestimated – paradigmatic example of the new science of morality. -/- 15. Richard Cumberland and consequentialist voluntarism. The chapter gives an overview of eighteenth-century Anglican ethics, noticing how the Cambridge tradition gave special weight to natural theology as opposed to positive or revealed theology – and how two Cambridge fellows, John Gay and Thomas Brown, elaborated on Cumberland’s (and Malebranche’s, as well as Leibniz’s) strategy for finding a third way between intellectualist view and voluntarist view of the laws of nature. The result of their elaboration was a kind of a rational-choice account of the origins of natural laws, where a law-giver God chooses among a number possible sets of laws on a maximizing criterion, and God’s maximandum is happiness for his creatures. The chapter notices also how such a solution aimed at solving at once the problem of evil and that of the foundation of moral obligation by proving how God’s choice was justified as far as it was the one minimising the amount of suffering in the world. 16. Richard Price and intuitionism. The chapter describes first the doctrines of the Cambridge Platonists, an example of hyper-rationalist reaction to Calvinism. Secondly it describes the sophisticated and universally ignored – from Sidgwick to Anscombe –version of what was later labelled ‘ethical intuitionism’ – showing how it escapes familiar objections and misrepresentations of intuitionism – from Mill to Rawls – in grounding its argument on transcendental arguments while carefully avoiding recourse to introspection and psychological evidence, which has been taken as a too easy target by critics of intuitionism. Thirdly, the chapter discusses Whewell’s ‘philosophy of morality’, as opposed to ‘systematic morality’, not unlike Kant’s distinction between a pure and an empirical moral philosophy. Whewell worked out a systematization of traditional normative ethics as a first step before its rational justification; he believed that the point in the philosophy of morality is justifying a few rational truths about the structure of morality such as to rule hedonism, eudemonism, and consequentialism; yet a system of positive morality cannot be derived solely from such rational truths but requires consideration of the ongoing dialectics between idea and fact in historically given moralities. Whewell’s intuitionism turns out closer to Kantian ethics than commentators have made us believe until now, and quite different from what Sidgwick meant by intuitionism. -/- 17. Adam Smith and the morality of role-switch. The chapter describes first, Hutcheson’s attempt at basing the ‘new science’ of natural law on different bedrock than Pufendorf and the English Platonists, namely a moral sense, a faculty whose existence is assumed to be proved on an empirical basis. The second step is a reconstruction of Hume’s rejoinder in terms of a new science of man including morality on an ‘experimental’ basis, that is, a ‘Newtonian’ hypothetical-deductive approach, distinguished from Hutcheson’s allegedly uncritical descriptive approach to human nature. The third step is a reconstruction of Adam Smith theory of morality understood as emerging from a spontaneous interplay of exchanges of situations (the most basic meaning of the word ‘sympathy’ as construed by this author). -/- 18. Jeremy Bentham and utilitarianism. The bulk of the chapter is dedicated to the doctrines of Jeremy Bentham. The Enlightenment spirit that suggested the idea of a new morality, free from religion, is illustrated. The notion of utility is illustrated as well as the subsequent formulations of the principle of utility. The idea of felicific calculus is discussed, showing how its inner difficulties prompted several reformulations of the principle of utility in order to avoid undesirable implications of proposed formulations. The role of the thesis of spontaneous convergence between interest and duty is discussed, showing how it left numberless questions open, and the distinction between the virtues of prudence, justice and beneficence is described as a way out of the deadlocks of classical utilitarianism. After Bentham, Mill’s reformed utilitarianism is reconstructed, showing how it is a kind of mixed system – as closer to common sense as it gives up Bentham’s claims to consistency and simplicity – resulting as unintended consequences from the controversies in which Mill was too keen to engage. The hidden agenda of the controversy between Utilitarianism and Intuitionism, going beyond the image of the battle between Prejudice and Reason, is described, showing how both competing philosophical outlooks turn out to be more research programs than self-contained doctrinal bodies, and such programs appear to be implemented, and indeed radically transformed while in progress thanks to their enemies no less than to their supporters. -/- 19. Immanuel Kant, practical reason and judgment. The chapter argues that Kant took from Moses Mendelssohn the idea of a distinction between geometry of morals and a practical ethic. He was drastically misunderstood by his followers precisely on this point. He had learned from the sceptics and the Jansenists the lesson that men are prompted to act by deceptive ends, and he was aware that human actions are also empirical phenomena, where laws like the laws of Nature may be detected. His practical ethics made room for judgment as a holistic procedure for assessing the saliency of relevant moral qualities in one given situation; this procedure yields the same results as the geometry of morals does for abstract cases but does so immediately and without balancing conflicting duties with each other, since what makes for the salient quality of a situation is perceived from the very beginning. Kant's practical philosophy is richer than the received image, making room for an ‘empirical moral philosophy’ or moral anthropology including treatment of commerce, needs, value and price, happiness and well-being; the overall social theory and philosophy of history is less different from Adam Smith's than the received image makes believe; the paradox of happiness is central to Kant's philosophy; a distinction between happiness and well-being is clearly drawn; the distinction plays a basic role in establishing a link between the economic and the moral life. -/- 20. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and the critique of abstract universalism. The chapter describes first the Romantic movement and the implications some of its concerns, rescuing passions, community, tradition, the individual as the bearer of a unique destiny, and the longing for organic unity between the individual, mankind and nature. Hegel’s contribution is discussed then, highlighting how, on the one hand, he shared a number of these concerns and on the other he had more rationalist leanings. The notion of morality is the pivotal point of the reconstruction, highlighting how Hegel construes this notion as a key to his own diagnosis of the malaise of modernity – the separation of individual and Gemeinschaft – and how his attack on Kant turns around this very idea. -/- 21. Friedrich Nietzsche against Christianity and the Enlightenment. The chapter illustrates first the idea of deconstruction of the back-world of values. Nietzsche claims to be legitimate heir of the French moralists, Leibniz, Kant and Hegel, in so far as he allegedly carries out to its deepest implications their discovery of what lies behind traditional naïve belief in the existence of an objective realm of values just waiting for description by the philosopher. The two exemplars form which genealogy draws inspiration are the classical philologist’s historical reconstructions of lost meanings and the chemist’s decomposition of elements. Then the genealogy of the notions of good and evil carried out in the first dissertation of Genealogy of morals is illustrated with its paradoxical conclusion that will to power is in fact the only ‘genuine’ kind of goodness. The third point illustrated is the dialectic of ascetism and self-realization with its ambiguous outcome. The suggested interpretation of such outcome is that Nietzsche’s normative ethics is a kind of virtue ethics taking an aesthetic ideal as a normative standard -/- 22. George Edward Moore and ideal utilitarianism. The chapter discusses the ideas of common sense and common-sense morality in Sidgwick. I argue that, far from aiming at overcoming common-sense morality, Sidgwick aimed purposely at grounding a consist code of morality by methods allegedly taken from the natural sciences to reach, also in ethics, the same kind of “mature” knowledge as in the natural sciences. His whole polemics with intuitionism was vitiated by the a priori assumption that the widespread ethos of the educated part of humankind, not the theories of the intuitionist philosophers, was what was worth considering as the expression of intuitionist ethics. In spite of a naïve positivist starting-point, Sidgwick was encouraged by his own approach in exploring the fruitfulness of coherentist methods for normative ethics. Thus, Sidgwick left an ambivalent legacy to twentieth-century ethics: the dogmatic idea of a “new” morality of a consequentialist kind, and the fruitful idea that we can argue rationally in normative ethics albeit without shared foundations. Then it reconstructs the background of ideas, concerns and intentions out of which Moore’s early essays, the preliminary version, and then the final version of Principia Ethica originated. I stress the role of religious concerns, as well as that of the Idealist legacy. I argue that PE is more a patchwork of rather diverging contributions than a unitary work, not to say the paradigm of a new school in Ethics. I add a comparison with Rashdall’s almost contemporary ethical work, suggesting that the latter defends the same general claims in a different way, one that manages to pave decisive objections in a more plausible way. I end by suggesting that the emergence of Analytic Ethics was a more ambiguous phenomenon than the received view would make us believe, and that the wheat (or some other gluten-free grain) of this tradition, that is, what logic can do for philosophy, should be separated from the chaff, that is, the confused and mutually incompatible legacies of Utilitarianism and Idealism. -/- 23. Edmund Husserl and the a-priori of action. The chapter illustrates first the idea of phenomenology and the Husserl’s project of a phenomenological ethic as illustrated in his 1908-1914 lectures. The key idea is dismissing psychology and trying to ground a new science of the a priori of action, within which a more restricted field of inquiry will be the science of right actions. Then the chapter illustrates the criticism of modern moral philosophy carried out in the 1920 lectures, where the main target is naturalism, understood in the Kantian meaning of primacy of common sense. The third point illustrate is Adolph Reinach’s theory of social acts as a key the grounding of norms, a view that basically sketches the very ideas ‘discovered’ later by Clarence I. Lewis, John Searle, Karl-Otto Apel and Jürgen Habermas. A final section is dedicated to Nicolai Hartman, who always refused to define himself a phenomenologist and yet developed a more articulated and detailed theory of ‘values’ – with surprising affinities with George E. Moore - than philosophers such as Max Scheler who claimed to Husserl’s legitimate heirs. -/- 24. Bertrand Russell and non-cognitivism. The chapter reconstructs first the discussion after Moore. The naturalistic-fallacy argument was widely accepted but twisted to prove instead that the intuitive character of the definition of ‘good’, its non-cognitive meaning, in a first phase identified with ‘emotive’ meaning. Alfred Julius Ayer is indicated as a typical proponent of such non-cognitivist meta-ethics. More detailed discussion is dedicated to Bertrand Russell’s ethics, a more nuanced and sophisticated doctrine, arguing that non-cognitivism does not condemn morality to arbitrariness and that the project of a rational normative ethics is still possible, heading finally to the justification of a kind of non-hedonist utilitarianism. Stevenson’s theory, another moderate version of emotivism is discussed at some length, showing how the author comes close to the discovery of the role of a pragmatic dimension of language as a basis for ethical argument. Last of all, the discussion from the Forties about Hume’s law is described, mentioning Karl Popper’s argument and Richard Hare’s early non-cognitivist but non-emotivist doctrine named prescriptivism. -/- 25. Elizabeth Anscombe and the revival of virtue ethics. The chapter discusses the three theses defended by Anscombe in 'Modern Moral Philosophy'. I argue that: a) her answer to the question "why should I be moral?" requires a solution of the problem of theodicy, and ignores any attempts to save the moral point of view without recourse to divine retribution; b) her notion of divine law is an odd one more neo-Augustinian than Biblical or Scholastic; c) her image of Kantian ethics and intuitionism is the impoverished image manufactured by consequentialist opponents for polemical purposes and that she seems strangely accept it; d) the difficulty of identifying the "relevant descriptions" of acts is not an argument in favour of an ethics of virtue and against consequentialism or Kantian ethics, and indeed the role of judgment in the latter is a response to the difficulties raised by the case of judgment concerning future action. A short look at further developments in the neo-naturalist current is given trough a reconstruction of Philippa Foot’s and Peter Geach’s critiques to the naturalist-fallacy argument and Alasdair MacIntyre’s grand reconstruction of the origins and allegedly unavoidable failure of the Enlightenment project of an autonomous ethic. -/- 26. Richard Hare and neo-Utilitarianism. The chapter addresses the issue of the complex process of self-transformation Utilitarianism underwent after Sidgwick’s and Moore’s fatal criticism and the unexpected Phoenix-like process of rebirth of a doctrine definitely refuted. A glimpse at this uproarious process is given through two examples. The first is Roy Harrod Wittgensteinian transformation of Utilitarianism in pure normative ethics depurated from hedonism as well as from whatsoever theory of the good. This results in preference utilitarianism combined with a ‘Kantian’ version of rule utilitarianism. The second is Richard Hare’s two-level preference utilitarianism where act utilitarianism plays the function of eventual rational justification of moral judgments and rule-utilitarianism that of action-guiding practical device. -/- 27. Hans-Georg Gadamer and rehabilitation of practical philosophy. The post-war rediscovery of ethics by many German thinkers and its culmination in the Sixties in the movement named ‘Rehabilitation of practical philosophy’ is described. Among the actors of such rehabilitation there were a few of Heidegger’s most brilliant disciples, and Hans-Georg Gadamer is chosen as a paradigmatic example. His reading of Aristotle’s lesson I reconstructed, starting with Heidegger’s lesson but then subtly subverting its outcome thanks to the recovery of the central role of the notion of phronesis. -/- 28. Karl-Otto Apel and the revival of Kantian ethics. Parallel to the neo-Aristotelian trend, there was in the Rehabilitation of practical philosophy a Kantian current. This started, instead than the rehabilitation of prudence, with the discovery of the pragmatic dimension of language carried out by Charles Peirce and the Oxford linguistic philosophy. On this basis, Karl-Otto Apel singled out as the decisive proponent of the linguistic and Kantian turn in German-speaking ethics, worked out the performative-contradiction argument while claiming that this was able to provide a new rational and universal basis for normative ethics. An examination of his argument is some detail is offered, followed by a more cursory reconstruction of Jürgen Habermas’s elaboration on Apel’s theory. -/- 29. John Rawls and public ethics as applied ethics. Rawls’s distinction between a “political” and a “metaphysical” approach to one central part of ethical theory, namely the theory of justice, is interpreted as a formulation of the same basic idea at the root of both the principles approach and neo-casuistry, both discussed in the following chapter, namely that it is possible to reach an agreement concerning positive moral judgments even though the discussion is still open – and in Rawls’ view never will be close – on the basic criteria for judgment. -/- 30. Beauchamp and Childress and bioethics as applied ethics. The chapter presents the revolution of applied ethics while stressing its methodological novelty, exemplified primarily by Beauchamp and Childress principles approach and then by Jonsen and Toulmin’s new casuistry. -/- . (shrink)

In 2015, the Israeli Knesset passed the force-feeding act that permits the director of the Israeli prison authority to appeal to the district court with a request to force-feed a prisoner against his expressed will. A recent position paper by top Israeli clinicians and bioethicists, published in Hebrew, advocates for force-feeding by medical professionals and presents several arguments that this would be appropriate. Here, we first posit three interrelated questions: 1. Do prisoners have a right to hunger-strike? 2. Should governing (...) institutions force-feed prisoners and/or is it ethical to force-feed prisoners? 3. Should healthcare professionals force-feed prisoners? We then focus on the first and third questions. We first briefly provide several arguments to support the right of prisoners to refuse treatment. Next, we critically review the arguments presented in the Israeli position paper, demonstrating that they are all misguided at best. Lastly, we briefly present arguments against force-feeding by medical professionals. We conclude that healthcare providers should not participate in the force-feeding of prisoners. (shrink)

Hebrew and Arabic in Asymmetric Contact in Israel Israeli Hebrew and Palestinian Arabic 1 have existed side by side for well over a century in extremely close contact, accompanied by social and ideological tension, often conflict, between two communities: PA speakers, who turned from a majority to a minority following the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, and IH speakers, the contemporary majority, representing the dominant culture. The Hebrew-speaking Jewish group is heterogeneous in terms of lands of origin (...) and includes a large community of Judeo-Arabic speakers. In this paper I discuss the ‘when,’ ‘where,’ how,' and especially ‘why’ of mutual borrowing2 between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel since the 1880s.I stress that the contact is asymmetric. The majority of Hebrew speakers today do not speak Arabic. They do, however, have access to borrowed lexicon in the domain of slang and vernacular speech that both enriches these registers and provides the speakers with a feeling of being ‘indigenous’ and ‘belonging’ to the social and cultural milieu of the larger environment. In contrast, most young adult PA-speakers are bilingual. For this minority, borrowing fulfills fundamental sociolinguistic and pragmatic needs. IH lexical items have permeated all areas of professional, educational, administrative, and social activities in everyday life discourse in all styles and registers of the spoken language and, to a lesser extent, written language. They fill lexical gaps and lacunae representing modern and western concepts that did not exist in PA. They also symbolize modernism, education, and social mobility. In other words, borrowing serves as a means of ‘stepping in’ for the Jewish majority and conversely as a means for ‘stepping out and up’ for the Arab minority. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Editors’ Introduction“Between the Bible and the Philosophers”: ShakespearePeter Atterton (bio) and Sean Lawrence (bio)It is not clear when Levinas first read Shakespeare, but we do have some clues. The first complete translation of Shakespeare’s works into Russian, Levinas’s mother tongue, appeared between 1865 and 1868. These volumes doubtless graced the shelves of his family’s bookstore in Kovno (now Kaunas), in Lithuania, then part of the Russian empire. Kovno served (...) as capital of one of three губернии gubernias (provinces), but also as the de facto center of Lithuanian intellectual life. The family bookstore catered to the highbrow tastes of government officials and served the needs of teachers and students at the local lycée. One also imagines that it fired the literary imagination of the young Levinas, who taught himself to read Russian at a young age. However, it would have been highly unusual for one so young, even for one as precocious as Levinas, to have read Shakespeare recreationally and self-educationally during this period (1906–1915). It probably was not until he entered the lycée in Kharkov, in Tsarist Ukraine, where his family emigrated at the beginning the Great War, or after his family’s return in 1920 to Lithuania, where Levinas attended the Hebrew lycée in Kovno, that Levinas read Shakespeare for the first time. We know that Russian gymnasiums and technical schools assigned Shakespeare.1 His gymnasium education, between the ages of eleven and seventeen, is therefore the latest point by which Levinas could have read Shakespeare for the first time, though we do not know what or how much.He certainly acknowledged Shakespeare’s influence on his early thought. In an interview broadcast on Radio France Culture in February 1981, Philippe Nemo asked Levinas what were “the first great books” he encountered, “the Bible or the philosophers?” Levinas answered by saying that he read the Bible while very young but only began to read philosophy with any seriousness at university. He proceeded, however, to volunteer a third category of great books, [End Page 1]between the Bible and the philosophers, the Russian classics—Pushkin, Lermontov, Gogol, Turgenev, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, and also the great writers of Western Europe, notably Shakespeare, much admired in Hamlet, Macbeth and King Lear.2If we treat this as a chronology, then Levinas would have first read Shakespeare at some time “between” the age of six, when he began reading the Bible and other Hebrew texts with a private tutor, and the age of seventeen, when he enrolled at the University of Strasbourg.A polyglot, Levinas could have read Shakespeare in English as well as in Russian translation, but also in French, German, or Hebrew translation. For that matter, he could have read it in Lithuanian translation.3 We don’t know which French edition he read first or drew upon most closely.4 In Time and the Other, he follows the translation of Émile Montégut for Macbeth but for Romeo and Juliet, as noted in Sean Lawrence’s article, he does not repeat verbatim any of the major translations. When he quotes Shakespeare in English, he follows an original spelling edition. In the notebooks that he kept during imprisonment, and part of which we have translated here, Levinas appears to quote Shakespeare in English from memory, but incorrectly.This error notwithstanding, the Carnets de captivité show the imprisoned Levinas reading widely in English. Perhaps he expected a victory by the anglo-phone powers, or perhaps he practiced a sort of defiance in reading the language of his captors’ enemies, or perhaps he sought to strengthen his understanding of one of the European languages he had neglected in the precocity of his youth. Besides Shakespeare, we find him reading D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Charles Morgan’s Sparkenbroke within our selection. Elsewhere in the notebooks, he refers to Arthur Conan Doyle, Charles Dickens, L. Ryder Haggard, Maurice Baring, Millen Brand, Pearl Buck, and Edgar Allan Poe.5 His references range from the cursory—in the case of Brand’s The Outward Room, it consists only of its title and author—to the surprisingly detailed and suggestive. After reading... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Xenophilia STEVEN SHANKMAN We often hear about xenophobia in today’s troubled Western world, about fear of the stranger, fear of the demonized other. But we rarely, if ever, encounter the term, or the inspiring idea of, xenophilia, love of the stranger, hospitality. Rarely, that is, unless we regularly consult the Bible and the two great Homeric epics. What do these foundational works of Western culture teach us about the (...) relation between xenophilia—the gesture of welcoming the potentially dangerous stranger—and what it means to be truly human? Let us begin with an explicit reference to the word xenophilia that appears in an essay by the great and radical 20th -century philosopher on the nature of ethical obligation, Emmanuel Levinas, written in 1959. Here Levinas remarks: “Monotheism [by which Levinas says he means Judaism, Christianity, and Islam] is not an arithmetic of the divine.... It is a school of xenophilia and anti-racism [Il est une école de xénophilie et d’antiracisme].”1 The relationship between monotheism, in the Abrahamic religious tradition, and xenophilia is suggested at the beginning of the eighteenth chapter of Genesis, when three strangers appear to Abraham, who runs towards them to offer them food and drink. Who are these three strangers? One of them, it turns out, is God, and the other two are angels, but their identity does not concern Abraham. What he sees are three men and he wants merely to be hospitable towards them, to serve them. At the conclusion of the previous chapter, Abraham, at the age of ninety-nine, was arion 28.2 fall 2020 74 xenophilia circumcised. He is, as you can imagine, now in great pain. The rabbis say that God, knowing that Abraham is such a hospitable person, purposely made the day very hot so as to discourage wayfarers from braving the heat and thus tempting Abraham to exert himself during his early recovery from the trauma of his belated and recent circumcision. I have indicated, in brackets, the verses in which Abraham addresses the stranger(s) in the singular and in the plural, which cannot be discerned in the translation into English: God [the ineffable Tetragrammaton ‫יהוה‬— most often pronounced Adonai today] appeared to him [Abraham] in the plains of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance of the tent in the heat of day. He lifted his eyes and saw: And behold! Three men were standing over him. He saw them and ran toward them from the entrance of the tent, and bowed toward the ground. And he said, “Adonai [meaning ‘My Lord’ or ‘My Lords’], if I find favor in Your [singular form in the Hebrew] eyes now, please pass not away [singular form of the verb] from Your [singular] servant. Let some water be brought and wash your [plural] feet, and recline [plural form of the verb] beneath the tree. I will fetch a morsel of bread that you [plural] may sustain yourselves, then go on [plural form of the verb]—inasmuch as you [plural] have passed your [plural form of the adjective] servant’s way.”2 “God appeared to him [Abraham] in the plains of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance of the tent in the heat of the day. He lifted his eyes and saw: And behold! Three men were standing over him.” Where, exactly, is God in this passage? The rabbis of the Talmud suggest that God did indeed visit Abraham, but that when the three strangers arrived, Abraham asked God to wait (can you believe such audacity?) while he, Abraham, could first meet the needs of the three wayfarers. First things first! From this the Talmud concludes that “Hospitality to wayfarers is greater than receiving the Divine Presence.”3 A beautiful thought! But the verses from Genesis are even more radical than that. We wonder whether the alternation, Steven Shankman 75 in Abraham’s address to the strangers, between his addressing them first in the plural then in the singular and then back to the plural again, does not suggest a response to our question of where God appears in this passage. Could this alternation be suggesting that the way God appears in these verses... (shrink)

The aim of this dissertation is an analysis of agreement in relation to genitival constructions. It proposes that the Apulian non-prepositional enitives of San Marco in Lamis can be described as regulated by a definiteness agreement mechanism manifesting itself in the necessity of articled heads (excluding vocatives) and genitival nouns, coupled with an adjacency requirement which limits the realization of post-nominal modifiers of the head in a post-genitival position, where they might only refer to the genitive noun. This work thus (...) proposes that such agreement for definiteness is the same holding in Romanian non-al genitives which result in the linker construction when agreement is disrupted. In chapter 1 we thus introduce Kartvelian genitives by Suffixaufnahme which notoriously represent a genitive-head noun morphological agreement phenomenon. Plank (1995) also shows that in a series of genitives, Suffixaufnahme shows up only on the last one, demonstrating that when it comes to agreement in genitives, local dynamics of sorts are often at stake (as it happens with the Costruct State). In 2 we move to linkers; linkers have been connected to agreement in Suffixaufnahme genitives at least since Plank (1995) and later works such as Larson and Yamakido (2006), Manzini et al (2016), and Manzini (2018), according to which linkers can be assimilated to agreement. In fact, in synthetic systems such as Romanian and Aromanian, Albanian and Arbëresh, and Kurdish varieties, linkers agree for φ with either the head or the genitive noun. Giurgea and Dobrovie-Sorin (2013: 126) further show that in Romanian non-linker constructions possessives agree for case with the head noun. In linker constructions, agreement for case is not present: it’s the linker itself which agrees with the head noun, this time for φ. Chapter 3 deals with genitival modification in Hebrew and a number of Arabic varieties. It proposes that the pseudoprepositions found in Arabic varieties are nouns in the Construct State. This was previously proposed for Palestinian Arabic in Mohammad (1999), which also shows that such elements agree for φ with the modified noun. 3.2 takes into account the Semitic preposition l-, dealing with the question of whether this lement can be characterized as possessive and locative as it happens for Romance a. 4 analyzes Apulian non-prepositional genitives and proposes as anticipated that the necessity of articled nouns in the construction is to be linked to an agreement relation taking place via D. Lastly, 5 subsumes the conclusions of this work. (shrink)

ḥ. 1. Beʼurim ʻal ha-ketuvim u-maʼamre Razal -- ḥ. 2. Derushim u-musarim le-Shabatot ha-shanah -- ḥ. 3. Ḥi. Mas. Berakhot.

Leadership is at the core of Christianity; it operates from the paradigm of God’s revelation to humanity through creation. The creation of the world and the creation of Imago Dei are markers of the service that God has maintained from creation to the fulfilment of soteriology (Gn 1:26, 3 and I Cor 15:42). The early church’s worship of Christ, at least in the Didache, stemmed from the fact that this Hebrew prophet was a servant of God and was YHWH in (...) the flesh. The early teachings of the church were service to the world. This article contends that Christianity faces a crisis because of neglect of the nuclei of Christian theology and faith oriented around the real or physical person of Christ and service to others. The emphasis of this article focuses on kenosis as a prerogative of true Christian faith and leadership. A kenotic model of leadership is service to humanity and the world. The article seeks reflection on the theological importance of kenosis, which interacts with creation and creature. This approach will highlight underlying theology for leadership as it relates to the person of Christ. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Patchwork of Non-Integrated OthersMichael Elias (bio)It has been a long time since I first presented a paper at a Colloquium on Violence & Religion (COV&R) conference, in 1994 in Wiesbaden, entitled "Neck Riddles in Mimetic Theory." It discusses riddle stories in which a man sentenced to death saves his life by propounding to the judge a riddle that he cannot possibly solve, because it is based on bizarre (...) experiences, unique to the condemned person. This was somewhat similar to what I did in my lecture, because I hid the fact that my research, which I would later base my doctorate on, was inspired by the eccentric experiences from psychoses that overtook me between 1979 and 1983 and landed me in a psychiatric hospital. Moreover, the motif of a condemned person saving his life is related for me to the experiences of my father, who spent weeks on death row at Buchenwald concentration camp during World War II—and miraculously escaped death. As the eldest in the family, I was definitely "the boy who had to make everything right."I am convinced that a lot of research is related to a researcher's own experiences. Our maître à penser, René Girard, tells his interviewer Michel Treguer, in answer to a question about the last chapter of Mensonge romantique, "You're [End Page 121] right, of course, about there being a personal experience behind what I say. I ended up understanding that I was going through an experience of the kind that I was describing."1 In his overview of Girard's work, Wolfgang Palaver wrote, "He began to turn away from his own pride and to see himself as a puppet of his own mimetic desire."2 But Girard adds a caveat in 1994: There is the danger of narcissism.3I also experience that when I do not stick to the theory, but try to clarify parts of my life story from the moment I started reading Girard's Des choses cachées depuis la fondation du monde, which offered me a new opening to my Christian background. It stimulated me to start learning Hebrew to investigate the roots of Christianity.My learning still continues, in a study group: what Jews do in a beth hamidrash. The Torah is too great to be owned by any of us, so the mimetic rivalry that is always there becomes a fruitful mimesis: Lernen leads to freedom. The last ten years we have been studying the book of Exodus, with midrashim from the long rabbinic tradition. It's a book of liberation that finally gave me the courage to write about that profound period in the psychiatric hospital.From the third part of Des choses cachées, I learned a lot about interdividuality, and also from J.-M. Oughourlian's The Mimetic Brain, in which he distinguishes between the rational, emotional, and mimetic brain. And from Henri Grivois, who published on incipient psychosis. Initially I steered toward a kind of psycho-philosophical self-analysis using insights from mimetic theory. However, in the end I decided: What I learned will not be put in a scientific treatise, but a novel. For several reasons:1. I learned from Mensonge romantique that real knowledge can be conveyed very well through a novel.2. Hungarian writer and Nobel Prize winner Imre Kertész, explaining why he was unable to describe his real-life concentration camp experiences, gave me the freedom to paradoxically tell my "real story" in fiction.3. I could by no means always remember exactly what had happened, and therefore had to resort to fiction, even though I had preserved material from those years.4. I wanted to make people in my immediate surroundings unrecognizable by literary means. The American writer David Vann once said (according to a Dutch writer), "You must sacrifice your family on the altar of fiction." I didn't want that, especially with regard to my mother. [End Page 122]5. Finally, I was inspired by a Jewish sage from the eighteenth century in Lithuania (the maggid of Doubno). He explains why the truth of the Torah is not presented as a philosophy or code of law... (shrink)

When reading the Hebrew Bible, it is clear that the goddess Asherah is given a negative image. There are some fascinating probable misreadings, including one showing that she once might have had a more exalted role: in Deuteronomy 33:2 at the Lord’s right hand there was a ‘fiery law’, or was it ‘Asherah’? However, it appears that the Greek Septuagint preserves some additional references to Asherah which are surprisingly positive. In some of the places examined Asherah can confidently be assumed (...) to be underneath the Greek word for ‘grove’. Additionally, there are places where Asherah does not occur but the Greek translation gives us evidence that the word Asherah was there originally. Finally, two ‘goddess passages’ are shown to have significantly different emphases regarding Asherah when read in the Greek or other ancient translations.1. (shrink)

Abstract:This essay is composed of three parts, corresponding to three theses: (1) dualism is at once universal and particular (cultural); (2) the opposition between God the Father and Dao the Mother is the most apt rendering of the differences between Western and Chinese dualisms; (3) History may be understood as an ongoing patriarchal rationalization whose contours are determined by the particular "bent" of a given culture. By contrast with the temporal preconceptions of Western thought (Plato's Ideas and the Hebrew God (...) are both "eternal"), China's spatial bias—and both "bents" are at least partly determined by the respective writing systems—led it to conceive the body/soul duality as soul in the body, and so to give religious priority to "body technology" (as opposed to the salvation of souls), to ritual (as opposed to discourse), and to the feminine. Because of Platonic negativity with regard to the body and the feminine, in contrast with male/female complementarity in Judaism, our attempt to understand Chinese culture in terms that are familiar to us must begin with Biblical, and not Platonic, categories—whence comes the necessity of comparing God the Father and Dao the Mother. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Paul in the Summa Theologiae by Matthew LeveringAaron CantyPaul in the Summa Theologiae. By Matthew Levering. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2014. Pp. 336. $61.00 (cloth). ISBN: 978-0-8132-2597-5.It is not apparent to all readers of Thomas Aquinas that the Bible plays an indispensable role in his theology. That seems to be an unstated thesis of Matthew Levering in his book, Paul in the Summa Theologiae. (...) After decades of relative neglect in the first half of the twentieth century and into the second half, Aquinas’s scriptural commentaries began to receive scholarly attention. Less attention, however, has been paid to the role of Scripture in Aquinas’s synthetic works, including the Summa theologiae. Using as a reference point Wilhelmus G. B. M. Valkenberg’s magisterial study Words of the Living God: Place and Function of Holy Scripture in the Theology of St. Thomas Aquinas, which evaluates scriptural citations in the Summa theologiae, Levering proposes a more circumscribed study, namely, to discover the particular contribution of Pauline texts to the Summa theologiae. Taking the Pauline corpus for what Aquinas understood it to be, namely, the fourteen letters of the New Testament from Romans to Hebrews, Levering undertakes a detailed study of Paul’s influence on Aquinas.Levering’s book is divided into three sections. The first section examines how Aquinas applies Pauline texts in his exposition of three theological topics: the Trinity, Christ’s passion, and baptism. In his treatment of each of these three topics, Levering follows the order of the Summa theologiae, locating each Pauline text and commenting on where and how Aquinas uses it, whether in an objection, the sed contra, the respondeo, or the reply to an objection. With respect to the Trinity, Aquinas uses Paul especially in the questions of the Prima pars on human knowledge of God (q. 12), God’s knowledge (q. 14), God’s will (q. 19), predestination (q. 23), God the Father (q. 33), and the missions of the Son and Holy Spirit (q. 43). Levering finds that Paul’s emphasis on human salvation is what links these theological topics. God, who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, wills to save humanity through Christ’s atoning death and resurrection, and the sending forth of the Holy Spirit allows humanity to respond in faith and love to the Father’s revelation in Christ.Regarding Christ’s passion, which Aquinas treats in questions 46 to 49 of the Tertia pars, Levering draws three main conclusions about Aquinas’s engagement with Paul. First, Aquinas emphasizes the importance of Christ’s love and obedience while enduring his suffering and death. Paul testifies to Christ’s love in Ephesians 5:2 and Galatians 2:20, and he underscores the role of Christ’s obedience to the Father in Philippians 2:8 and Romans 5:29. Second, Aquinas draws from the Pauline writings various soteriological elements of Christ’s death. These elements include the meriting of exaltation for himself and for those who believe in him (Phil 2:9), the sacrificial and redemptive dimensions of his death (Eph 5:2; Gal 3:13), and the exemplary [End Page 152] and revelatory functions by which God manifests his power and glory through human weakness (1 Cor 1:18 and 1:25; 2 Cor 12:4). Third, Aquinas describes how Christ’s passion changes the lives of believers. God elicits through Christ a free response in faith and love (Rom 3:25 and 5:8), reconciles humanity to himself (Rom 5:10), and liberates humanity from the power of the devil (2 Thess 2:9).Aquinas discusses the sacrament of baptism a little later in the Tertia pars (qq. 66-69). Levering finds that Pauline texts in the first three questions, which pertain to the nature of baptism, the minister, and the recipients respectively, play a smaller role than they do in question 69, which contains 26 of the 89 Pauline quotations Aquinas appropriates in the questions on baptism. Most of these quotations derive from Romans, in which Paul discusses baptism at some length. Romans 6:11 claims that Christians have been baptized into Christ... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Introduction VIOLENCE AND INSTITUTION IN CHRISTIANITY Robert J. Daly, SJ. Boston College We need both to define our terms and to indicate whether we are using them in a normative or descriptive sense. Thus the question: "Is Christianity"—or, if you will—"Are the institutions of Christianity violent or nonviolent?" can be answered with either a Yes, or a No, or with anything in between, depending on the meaning we attach (...) to theterms "violence," "institution," and "Christianity" (Daly 1997, 321-43). When we speak normatively, or take Christianity and its institutions accordingto its best ideals, Christianity isessentially nonviolent. But when we speak descriptively, i.e., take Christianity according to what the institutions ofChristianity have actually done, and according to how those who call themselves Christian have actually acted, we can make the argument that Christianity is violent, ffanalogous distinctions can be made from within the other four traditions, this might offer a good starting point for discussion. Adapting to my purpose standard dictionary definitions, I understand violence to include in a broad way the justified or unjustified human exertion of internal or external power or force in order to achieve an injurious or abusive end, i.e., an end that is against the will, the good, or the interests of those who suffer it. (This includes all war and avoids, at least at the outset, arguments about whether a war is or can be a "just war.") I understand institution in its ordinary meaning of: any significant or established practice, relationship, structure, system, or organization in a society or culture. I understand Christianity also in its ordinary sense: the Roberti. Daly, SJ.5 religion which, derived from Jesus Christ, and based on the Bible, is professed by Eastern, Roman Catholic, and Protestant bodies. Now, to help set the background for our discussion, I will try to list and briefly describe, relative to this theme, some of the major aspects or "moments" of Christianity (or Christian History), and do this in an approximately diachronic or chronological order. Much of this will be descriptive, but I will not go out of my way to dissociate the descriptions from the effects of all normative claims. I.Violence and Institution in the History of Christianity [1] The biblical foundation of Christianity in the Hebrew Scriptures. [2]The pervasiveness of violence in the Bible. [3]The Christian Scriptures present themselves as a gospel of peace. [4]Jesus and nonviolence. [5]Early Christians and nonviolence. [6]The early Christians and the military. [7]The "Constantinian turn." [8]Caesaro-papism. [9]The relegation ofChristian pacifism to religious and monastic life. [10]The just war theory. [11]The medieval Christian taken-for-grantedness of violence. [12]The Crusades. [13]Medieval Christian peace movements [14]Christians and heretics. The Inquisition. See [11] above. [1 5]Christianity and the witches. See [U] above. [16]The Reformation. [17]The Radical Reformation and the Peace Churches. [18]St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre (August 1572). [19]The religious wars. [20]Absolutism. [21]Modernity. [22]The Quakers—Religious Society of Friends. [23]The Enlightenment and Modernity. [24]Christianity and world mission; Christianity and colonialism. [25]Slavery. [26]Christianity and the "war" against native cultures. [27]Christianity and the First World War. [28]The Second World War. [29]The Holocaust. 6 Violence and Institution in Christianity [30]Christianity and the modern peace movement. [31]Christians and the "seamless ethic of life." [32]Christianity and International Communism. [33]Liberation theology. [34]The liberation of women. [35]Christianity and the resurgence of tribal and nationalist violence. [36]Christianity and human rights. [1] The biblical foundation of Christianity in the Hebrew Scriptures. Christians and Jews have the same family origins. Since believing Christians no less than believing Jews accept and revere the Hebrew Scriptures as the inspired word of God, Christians and Jews are indeed, to paraphrase Pope John XXIII, siblings. There is, beyond this, fromJudaism to Christianity, a significant parent-child relationship. In recent years (but not early enough to have prevented the Holocaust), the main line churches ofChristianity have rejected the supersessionism (the doctrine that the Old Testament has been abrogated by the New Testament) that used to characterize Christian attitudes towards the Jews and that... (shrink)

Tzachi Zamir is Professor of English and General & Comparative Literature at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, where he directs the Amirim Interdisciplinary Honors Programme in the Humanities. Just Literature: Philosophical Criticism and Justice is his fifth book, continuing the exploration of the relationship between philosophy and literature begun in Double Vision: Moral Philosophy and Shakespearean Drama (2007) and developed in Ascent: Philosophy and Paradise Lost (2017). Aside from his complex and innovative work in this field, he is best-known for (...) establishing the first systematic philosophical aesthetics of the art form of acting in Acts: Theater, Philosophy, and the Performing Self (2014). Just Literature is part of Routledge’s New Literary Theory series, published in the Routledge Focus format. Routledge Focus, like Palgrave Pivot and Emerald Points, is a fairly recent development in academic publishing, featuring short monographs whose publication is expedited in order to be able to provide commentary on or analysis of current events or topical issues. I am not sure about the value of the expedition for academic work, but I am in favour of the format, which is about half the length of a standard monograph and encourages clear, concise, and focused writing. Zamir introduces his unique approach to the overlap of literary studies and philosophy as being a response to the codependence of the aesthetic and epistemic values of literature, expressed in the following three claims: (1) exemplary literature enables insights by means of experiential pathways; (2) aesthetic value and epistemic or cognitive value are often interlinked; and (3) criticism becomes philosophical when it bridges the gap between emotion and insight. The purpose of Just Literature is twofold, to introduce philosophical criticism and to employ philosophical criticism to achieve a better understanding of the concept of justice. The monograph consists of an introduction, five chapters divided into two parts, a coda, and an appendix. The parts are divided by theory and practice, with the first sketching philosophical criticism in more detail than the introduction (Chapter 1) and introducing justice as a concept (Chapter 2). Part II applies this theory to practice, extrapolating the relationships between justice on the one hand and attachment (Chapter 3), pity (Chapter 4), and mercy (Chapter 5) on the other. The coda presents a pithy and memorable conclusion by means of a personal anecdote, recalling the author’s use of the same device in his second monograph, Ethics and the Beast: A Speciesist Argument for Animal Liberation (2007). (shrink)