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Dhammapada. Introduction.

From ancient times to the present, the Dhammapada has been regarded as the most succinct expression of the Buddha's teaching found in the Pali canon and the chief spiritual testament of early Buddhism. In the countries following Theravada Buddhism, such as Sri Lanka, Burma and Thailand, the influence of the Dhammapada is ubiquitous. It is an ever-fecund source of themes for sermons and discussions, a guidebook for resolving the countless problems of everyday life, a primer for the instruction of novices in the monasteries. Even the experienced contemplative, withdrawn to forest hermitage or mountainside cave for a life of meditation, can be expected to count a copy of the book among his few material possessions. Yet the admiration the Dhammapada has elicited has not been confined to avowed followers of Buddhism. Wherever it has become known its moral earnestness, realistic understanding of human life, aphoristic wisdom and stirring message of a way to freedom from suffering have won for it the devotion and veneration of those responsive to the good and the true.

The expounder of the verses that comprise the Dhammapada is the Indian sage called the Buddha, an honorific title meaning "the Enlightened One" or "the Awakened One." The story of this venerable personage has often been overlaid with literary embellishment and the admixture of legend, but the historical essentials of his life are simple and clear. He was born in the sixth century B.C., the son of a king ruling over a small state in the Himalayan foothills, in what is now Nepal. His given name was Siddhattha and his family name Gotama (Sanskrit: Siddhartha Gautama) . Raised in luxury, groomed by his father to be the heir to the throne, in his early manhood he went through a deeply disturbing encounter with the sufferings of life, as a result of which he lost all interest in the pleasures and privileges of rulership. One night, in his twenty-ninth year, he fled the royal city and entered the forest to live as an ascetic, resolved to find a way to deliverance from suffering. For six years he experimented with different systems of meditation and subjected himself to severe austerities, but found that these practices did not bring him any closer to his goal. Finally, in his thirty-fifth year, while sitting in deep meditation beneath a tree at Gaya, he attained Supreme Enlightenment and became, in the proper sense of the title, the Buddha, the Enlightened One. Thereafter, for forty-five years, he traveled throughout northern India, proclaiming the truths he had discovered and founding an order of monks and nuns to carry on his message. At the age of eighty, after a long and fruitful life, he passed away peacefully in the small town of Kusinara, surrounded by a large number of disciples.

To his followers, the Buddha is neither a god, a divine incarnation, or a prophet bearing a message of divine revelation, but a human being who by his own striving and intelligence has reached the highest spiritual attainment of which man is capable — perfect wisdom, full enlightenment, complete purification of mind. His function in relation to humanity is that of a teacher — a world teacher who, out of compassion, points out to others the way to Nibbana (Sanskrit: Nirvana), final release from suffering. His teaching, known as the Dhamma, offers a body of instructions explaining the true nature of existence and showing the path that leads to liberation. Free from all dogmas and inscrutable claims to authority, the Dhamma is founded solidly upon the bedrock of the Buddha's own clear comprehension of reality, and it leads the one who practices it to that same understanding — the knowledge which extricates the roots of suffering.

The title "Dhammapada" which the ancient compilers of the Buddhist scriptures attached to our anthology means portions, aspects, or sections of Dhamma. The work has been given this title because, in its twenty-six chapters, it spans the multiple aspects of the Buddha's teaching, offering a variety of standpoints from which to gain a glimpse into its heart. Whereas the longer discourses of the Buddha contained in the prose sections of the Canon usually proceed methodically, unfolding according to the sequential structure of the doctrine, the Dhammapada lacks such a systematic arrangement. The work is simply a collection of inspirational or pedagogical verses on the fundamentals of the Dhamma, to be used as a basis for personal edification and instruction. In any given chapter several successive verses may have been spoken by the Buddha on a single occasion, and thus among themselves will exhibit a meaningful development or a set of variations on a theme. But by and large, the logic behind the grouping together of verses into a chapter is merely the concern with a common topic. The twenty-six chapter headings thus function as a kind of rubric for classifying the diverse poetic utterances of the Master, and the reason behind the inclusion of any given verse in a particular chapter is its mention of the subject indicated in the chapter's heading . In some cases (Chapters 4 and 23) this may be a metaphorical symbol rather than a point of doctrine. There also seems to be no intentional design in the order of the chapters themselves, though at certain points a loose thread of development can be discerned.

The teachings of the Buddha, viewed in their completeness, all link together into a single perfectly coherent system of thought and practice which gains its unity from its final goal, the attainment of deliverance from suffering. But the teachings inevitably emerge from the human condition as their matrix and starting point, and thus must be expressed in such a way as to reach human beings standing at different levels of spiritual development, with their highly diverse problems, ends, and concerns and with their very different capacities for understanding. Thence, just as water, though one in essence, assumes different shapes due to the vessels into which it is poured, so the Dhamma of liberation takes on different forms in response to the needs of the beings to be taught. This diversity, evident enough already in the prose discourses, becomes even more conspicuous in the highly condensed, spontaneous and intuitively charged medium of verse used in the Dhammapada. The intensified power of delivery can result in apparent inconsistencies which may perplex the unwary. For example, in many verses the Buddha commends certain practices on the grounds that they lead to a heavenly birth, but in others he discourages disciples from aspiring for heaven and extols the one who takes no delight in celestial pleasures (187, 417) [Unless chapter numbers are indicated, all figures enclosed in parenthesis refer to verse numbers of the Dhammapada.]

Often he enjoins works of merit, yet elsewhere he praises the one who has gone beyond both merit and demerit (39, 412). Without a grasp of the underlying structure of the Dhamma, such statements viewed side by side will appear incompatible and may even elicit the judgment that the teaching is self-contradictory.

The key to resolving these apparent discrepancies is the recognition that the Dhamma assumes its formulation from the needs of the diverse persons to whom it is addressed, as well as from the diversity of needs that may co-exist even in a single individual. To make sense of the various utterances found in the Dhammapada, we will suggest a schematism of four levels to be used for ascertaining the intention behind any particular verse found in the work, and thus for understanding its proper place in the total systematic vision of the Dhamma. This fourfold schematism develops out of an ancient interpretive maxim which holds that the Buddha's teaching is designed to meet three primary aims: human welfare here and now, a favorable rebirth in the next life, and the attainment of the ultimate good. The four levels are arrived at by distinguishing the last aim into two stages: path and fruit.

(i) The first level is the concern with establishing well-being and happiness in the immediately visible sphere of concrete human relations. The aim at this level is to show man the way to live at peace with himself and his fellow men, to fulfill his family and social responsibilities, and to restrain the bitterness, conflict and violence which infect human relationships and bring such immense suffering to the individual, society, and the world as a whole. The guidelines appropriate to this level are largely identical with the basic ethical injunctions proposed by most of the great world religions, but in the Buddhist teaching they are freed from theistic moorings and grounded upon two directly verifiable foundations: concern for one's own integrity and long-range happiness and concern for the welfare of those whom one's actions may affect (129-132). The most general counsel the Dhammapada gives is to avoid all evil, to cultivate good and to cleanse one's mind (183). But to dispel any doubts the disciple might entertain as to what he should avoid and what he should cultivate, other verses provide more specific directives. One should avoid irritability in deed, word and thought and exercise self-control (231-234). One should adhere to the five precepts, the fundamental moral code of Buddhism, which teach abstinence from destroying life, from stealing, from committing adultery, from speaking lies and from taking intoxicants; one who violates these five training rules "digs up his own root even in this very world" (246-247). The disciple should treat all beings with kindness and compassion, live honestly and righteously, control his sensual desires, speak the truth and live a sober upright life, diligently fulfilling his duties, such as service to parents, to his immediate family and to those recluses and brahmans who depend on the laity for their maintenance (332-333).

A large number of verses pertaining to this first level are concerned with the resolution of conflict and hostility. Quarrels are to be avoided by patience and forgiveness, for responding to hatred by further hatred only maintains the cycle of vengeance and retaliation. The true conquest of hatred is achieved by non-hatred, by forbearance, by love (4-6). One should not respond to bitter speech but maintain silence (134). One should not yield to anger but control it as a driver controls a chariot (222). Instead of keeping watch for the faults of others, the disciple is admonished to examine his own faults, and to make a continual effort to remove his impurities just as a silversmith purifies silver (50, 239). Even if he has committed evil in the past, there is no need for dejection or despair; for a man's ways can be radically changed, and one who abandons the evil for the good illuminates this world like the moon freed from clouds (173).

The sterling qualities distinguishing the man of virtue are generosity, truthfulness, patience, and compassion (223). By developing and mastering these qualities within himself, a man lives at harmony with his own conscience and at peace with his fellow beings. The scent of virtue, the Buddha declares, is sweeter than the scent of all flowers and perfumes (55-56). The good man, like the Himalaya mountains, shines from afar, and wherever he goes he is loved and respected (303-304).

(ii) In its second level of teaching, the Dhammapada shows that morality does not exhaust its significance in its contribution to human felicity here and now, but exercises a far more critical influence in molding personal destiny. This level begins with the recognition that, to reflective thought, the human situation demands a more satisfactory context for ethics than mere appeals to altruism can provide. On the one hand our innate sense of moral justice requires that goodness be recompensed with happiness and evil with suffering; on the other our typical experience shows us virtuous people beset with hardships and afflictions and thoroughly bad people riding the waves of fortune (119-120). Moral intuition tells us that if there is any long-range value to righteousness, the imbalance must somehow be redressed. The visible order does not yield an evident solution, but the Buddha's teaching reveals the factor needed to vindicate our cry for moral justice in an impersonal universal law which reigns over all sentient existence. This is the law of kamma (Sanskrit: karma), of action and its fruit, which ensures that morally determinate action does not disappear into nothingness but eventually meets its due retribution, the good with happiness, the bad with suffering.

In the popular understanding kamma is sometimes identified with fate, but this is a total misconception utterly inapplicable to the Buddhist doctrine. Kamma means volitional action, action springing from intention, which may manifest itself outwardly as bodily deeds or speech, or remain internally as unexpressed thoughts, desires and emotions. The Buddha distinguishes kamma into two primary ethical types: unwholesome kamma, action rooted in mental states of greed, hatred and delusion; and wholesome kamma, action rooted in mental states of generosity or detachment, goodwill and understanding. The willed actions a person performs in the course of his life may fade from memory without a trace, but once performed they leave subtle imprints on the mind, seeds with the potential to come to fruition in the future when they meet conditions conducive to their ripening.

The objective field in which the seeds of kamma ripen is the process of rebirths called samsara. In the Buddha's teaching, life is not viewed as an isolated occurrence beginning spontaneously with birth and ending in utter annihilation at death. Each single life span is seen, rather, as part of an individualized series of lives having no discoverable beginning in time and continuing on as long as the desire for existence stands intact. Rebirth can take place in various realms. There are not only the familiar realms of human beings and animals, but ranged above we meet heavenly worlds of greater happiness, beauty and power, and ranged below infernal worlds of extreme suffering.

The cause for rebirth into these various realms the Buddha locates in kamma, our own willed actions. In its primary role, kamma determines the sphere into which rebirth takes place, wholesome actions bringing rebirth in higher forms, unwholesome actions rebirth in lower forms. After yielding rebirth, kamma continues to operate, governing the endowments and circumstances of the individual within his given form of existence. Thus, within the human world, previous stores of wholesome kamma will issue in long life, health, wealth, beauty and success; stores of unwholesome kamma in short life, illness, poverty, ugliness and failure.

Prescriptively, the second level of teaching found in the Dhammapada is the practical corollary to this recognition of the law of kamma, put forth to show human beings, who naturally desire happiness and freedom from sorrow, the effective means to achieve their objectives. The content of this teaching itself does not differ from that presented at the first level; it is the same set of ethical injunctions for abstaining from evil and for cultivating the good. The difference lies in the perspective from which the injunctions are issued and the aim for the sake of which they are to be taken up. The principles of morality are shown now in their broader cosmic connections, as tied to an invisible but all-embracing law which binds together all life and holds sway over the repeated rotations of the cycle of birth and death. The observance of morality is justified, despite its difficulties and apparent failures, by the fact that it is in harmony with that law, that through the efficacy of kamma, our willed actions become the chief determinant of our destiny both in this life and in future states of becoming. To follow the ethical law leads upwards — to inner development, to higher rebirths and to richer experiences of happiness and joy. To violate the law, to act in the grip of selfishness and hate, leads downwards — to inner deterioration, to suffering and to rebirth in the worlds of misery. This theme is announced already by the pair of verses which opens the Dhammapada, and reappears in diverse formulations throughout the work (see, e.g., 15-18, 117-122, 127, 132-133, Chapter 22).

(iii) The ethical counsel based on the desire for higher rebirths and happiness in future lives is not the final teaching of the Buddha, and thus cannot provide the decisive program of personal training commended by the Dhammapada. In its own sphere of application, it is perfectly valid as a preparatory or provisional teaching for those whose spiritual faculties are not yet ripe but still require further maturation over a succession of lives. A deeper, more searching examination, however, reveals that all states of existence in samsara, even the loftiest celestial abodes, are lacking in genuine worth; for they are all inherently impermanent, without any lasting substance, and thus, for those who cling to them, potential bases for suffering. The disciple of mature faculties, sufficiently prepared by previous experience for the Buddha's distinctive exposition of the Dhamma, does not long even for rebirth among the gods. Having understood the intrinsic inadequacy of all conditioned things, his focal aspiration is only for deliverance from the ever-repeating round of births. This is the ultimate goal to which the Buddha points, as the immediate aim for those of developed faculties and also as the long-term ideal for those in need of further development: Nibbana, the Deathless, the unconditioned state where there is no more birth, aging and death, and no more suffering.

The third level of teaching found in the Dhammapada sets forth the theoretical framework and practical discipline emerging out of the aspiration for final deliverance. The theoretical framework is provided by the teaching of the Four Noble Truths (190-192, 273), which the Buddha had proclaimed already in his first sermon and upon which he placed so much stress in his many discourses that all schools of Buddhism have appropriated them as their common foundation. The four truths all center around the fact of suffering (dukkha), understood not as mere experienced pain and sorrow, but as the pervasive unsatisfactoriness of everything conditioned (202-203). The first truth details the various forms of suffering — birth, old age, sickness and death, the misery of unpleasant encounters and painful separations, the suffering of not obtaining what one wants. It culminates in the declaration that all constituent phenomena of body and mind, "the aggregates of existence" (khandha), being impermanent and substanceless, are intrinsically unsatisfactory. The second truth points out that the cause of suffering is craving (tanha), the desire for pleasure and existence which drives us through the round of rebirths, bringing in its trail sorrow, anxiety, and despair (212-216, Chapter 24). The third truth declares that the destruction of craving issues in release from suffering, and the fourth prescribes the means to gain release, the Noble Eightfold Path: right understanding, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration (Chapter 20).

If, at this third level, the doctrinal emphasis shifts from the principles of kamma and rebirth to the Four Noble Truths, a corresponding shift in emphasis takes place in the practical sphere as well. The stress now no longer falls on the observation of basic morality and the cultivation of wholesome attitudes as a means to higher rebirths. Instead it falls on the integral development of the Noble Eightfold Path as the means to uproot the craving that nurtures the process of rebirth itself. For practical purposes the eight factors of the path are arranged into three major groups which reveal more clearly the developmental structure of the training: moral discipline (including right speech, right action and right livelihood), concentration (including right effort, right mindfulness and right concentration), and wisdom (including right understanding and right thought). By the training in morality, the coarsest forms of the mental defilements, those erupting as unwholesome deeds and words, are checked and kept under control. By the training in concentration the mind is made calm, pure and unified, purged of the currents of distractive thoughts. By the training in wisdom the concentrated beam of attention is focused upon the constituent factors of mind and body to investigate and contemplate their salient characteristics. This wisdom, gradually ripened, climaxes in the understanding that brings complete purification and deliverance of mind.

In principle, the practice of the path in all three stages is feasible for people in any walk of life. The Buddha taught it to laypeople as well as to monks, and many of his lay followers reached high stages of attainment. However, application to the development of the path becomes most fruitful for those who have relinquished all other concerns in order to devote themselves wholeheartedly to spiritual training, to living the "holy life" (brahmacariya). For conduct to be completely purified, for sustained contemplation and penetrating wisdom to unfold without impediments, adoption of a different style of life becomes imperative, one which minimizes distractions and stimulants to craving and orders all activities around the aim of liberation. Thus the Buddha established the Sangha, the order of monks and nuns, as the special field for those ready to dedicate their lives to the practice of his path, and in the Dhammapada the call to the monastic life resounds throughout.

The entry-way to the monastic life is an act of radical renunciation. The thoughtful, who have seen the transience and hidden misery of worldly life, break the ties of family and social bonds, abandon their homes and mundane pleasures, and enter upon the state of homelessness (83, 87-89, 91). Withdrawn to silent and secluded places, they seek out the company of wise instructors, and guided by the rules of the monastic training, devote their energies to a life of meditation. Content with the simplest material requisites, moderate in eating, restrained in their senses, they stir up their energy, abide in constant mindfulness and still the restless waves of thoughts (185, 375). With the mind made clear and steady, they learn to contemplate the arising and falling away of all formations, and experience thereby "a delight that transcends all human delights," a joy and happiness that anticipates the bliss of the Deathless (373-374). The life of meditative contemplation reaches its peak in the development of insight (vipassana), and the Dhammapada enunciates the principles to be discerned by insight-wisdom: that all conditioned things are impermanent, that they are all unsatisfactory, that there is no self or truly existent ego entity to be found in anything whatsoever (277-279). When these truths are penetrated by direct experience, the craving, ignorance and related mental fetters maintaining bondage break asunder, and the disciple rises through successive stages of realization to the full attainment of Nibbana.

(iv) The fourth level of teaching in the Dhammapada provides no new disclosure of doctrine or practice, but an acclamation and exaltation of those who have reached the goal. In the Pali canon the stages of definite attainment along the way to Nibbana are enumerated as four. At the first, called "stream-entry" (sotapatti), the disciple gains his first glimpse of "the Deathless" and enters irreversibly upon the path to liberation, bound to reach the goal in seven lives at most. This achievement alone, the Dhammapada declares, is greater than lordship over all the worlds (178). Following stream-entry come two further stages which weaken and eradicate still more defilements and bring the goal increasingly closer to view. One is called the stage of once-returner (sakadagami), when the disciple will return to the human world at most only one more time; the other the stage of non-returner (anagami), when he will never come back to human existence but will take rebirth in a celestial plane, bound to win final deliverance there. The fourth and final stage is that of the arahant, the Perfected One, the fully accomplished sage who has completed the development of the path, eradicated all defilements and freed himself from bondage to the cycle of rebirths. This is the ideal figure of early Buddhism and the supreme hero of the Dhammapada. Extolled in Chapter 7 under his own name and in Chapter 26 (385-388, 396-423) under the name brahmana, "holy man," the arahant serves as a living demonstration of the truth of the Dhamma. Bearing his last body, perfectly at peace, he is the inspiring model who shows in his own person that it is possible to free oneself from the stains of greed, hatred and delusion, to rise above suffering, to win Nibbana in this very life.

The arahant ideal reaches its optimal exemplification in the Buddha, the promulgator and master of the entire teaching. It was the Buddha who, without any aid or guidance, rediscovered the ancient path to deliverance and taught it to countless others. His arising in the world provides the precious opportunity to hear and practice the excellent Dhamma (182, 194). He is the giver and shower of refuge (190-192), the Supreme Teacher who depends on nothing but his own self-evolved wisdom (353). Born a man, the Buddha always remains essentially human, yet his attainment of Perfect Enlightenment elevates him to a level far surpassing that of common humanity. All our familiar concepts and modes of knowing fail to circumscribe his nature: he is trackless, of limitless range, free from all worldliness, the conqueror of all, the knower of all, untainted by the world (179, 180, 353).

Always shining in the splendor of his wisdom, the Buddha by his very being, confirms the Buddhist faith in human perfectibility and consummates the Dhammapada's picture of man perfected, the arahant.

The four levels of teaching just discussed give us the key for sorting out the Dhammapada's diverse utterances on Buddhist doctrine and for discerning the intention behind its words of practical counsel. Interlaced with the verses specific to these four main levels, there runs throughout the work a large number of verses not tied to any single level but applicable to all alike. Taken together, these delineate for us the basic world view of early Buddhism. The most arresting feature of this view is its stress on process rather than persistence as the defining mark of actuality. The universe is in flux, a boundless river of incessant becoming sweeping everything along; dust motes and mountains, gods and men and animals, world system after world system without number — all are engulfed by the irrepressible current. There is no creator of this process, no providential deity behind the scenes steering all things to some great and glorious end. The cosmos is beginningless, and in its movement from phase to phase it is governed only by the impersonal, implacable law of arising, change, and passing away.

However, the focus of the Dhammapada is not on the outer cosmos, but on the human world, upon man with his yearning and his suffering, his immense complexity, his striving and movement towards transcendence. The starting point is the human condition as given, and fundamental to the picture that emerges is the inescapable duality of human life, the dichotomies which taunt and challenge man at every turn. Seeking happiness, afraid of pain, loss and death, man walks the delicate balance between good and evil, purity and defilement, progress and decline. His actions are strung out between these moral antipodes, and because he cannot evade the necessity to choose, he must bear the full responsibility for his decisions. Man's moral freedom is a reason for both dread and jubilation, for by means of his choices he determines his own individual destiny, not only through one life, but through the numerous lives to be turned up by the rolling wheel of samsara. If he chooses wrongly he can sink to the lowest depths of degradation, if he chooses rightly he can make himself worthy even of the homage of the gods. The paths to all destinations branch out from the present, from the ineluctable immediate occasion of conscious choice and action.

The recognition of duality extends beyond the limits of conditioned existence to include the antithetical poles of the conditioned and the unconditioned, samsara and Nibbana, the "near shore" and the "far shore." The Buddha appears in the world as the Great Liberator who shows man the way to break free from the one and arrive at the other, where alone true safety is to be found. But all he can do is indicate the path; the work of treading it lies in the hands of the disciple. The Dhammapada again and again sounds this challenge to human freedom: man is the maker and master of himself, the protector or destroyer of himself, the savior of himself (160, 165, 380). In the end he must choose between the way that leads back into the world, to the round of becoming, and the way that leads out of the world, to Nibbana. And though this last course is extremely difficult and demanding, the voice of the Buddha speaks words of assurance confirming that it can be done, that it lies within man's power to overcome all barriers and to triumph even over death itself.

The pivotal role in achieving progress in all spheres, the Dhammapada declares, is played by the mind. In contrast to the Bible, which opens with an account of God's creation of the world, the Dhammapada begins with an unequivocal assertion that mind is the forerunner of all that we are, the maker of our character, the creator of our destiny. The entire discipline of the Buddha, from basic morality to the highest levels of meditation, hinges upon training the mind. A wrongly directed mind brings greater harm than any enemy, a rightly directed mind brings greater good than any other relative or friend (42, 43). The mind is unruly, fickle, difficult to subdue, but by effort, mindfulness and unflagging self-discipline, one can master its vagrant tendencies, escape the torrents of the passions and find "an island which no flood can overwhelm" (25). The one who conquers himself, the victor over his own mind, achieves a conquest which can never be undone, a victory greater than that of the mightiest warriors (103-105).

What is needed most urgently to train and subdue the mind is a quality called heedfulness (appamada). Heedfulness combines critical self awareness and unremitting energy in a process of keeping the mind under constant observation to detect and expel the defiling impulses whenever they seek an opportunity to surface. In a world where man has no savior but himself, and where the means to his deliverance lies in mental purification, heedfulness becomes the crucial factor for ensuring that the aspirant keeps to the straight path of training without deviating due to the seductive allurements of sense pleasures or the stagnating influences of laziness and complacency. Heedfulness, the Buddha declares, is the path to the Deathless; heedlessness, the path to death. The wise who understand this distinction abide in heedfulness and experience Nibbana, "the incomparable freedom from bondage" (21-23).

As a great religious classic and the chief spiritual testament of early Buddhism, the Dhammapada cannot be gauged in its true value by a single reading, even if that reading is done carefully and reverentially. It yields its riches only through repeated study, sustained reflection, and most importantly, through the application of its principles to daily life. Thence it might be suggested to the reader in search of spiritual guidance that the Dhammapada be used as a manual for contemplation. After his initial reading, he would do well to read several verses or even a whole chapter every day, slowly and carefully, relishing the words. He should reflect on the meaning of each verse deeply and thoroughly, investigate its relevance to his life, and apply it as a guide to conduct. If this is done repeatedly, with patience and perseverance, it is certain that the Dhammapada will confer upon his life a new meaning and sense of purpose. Infusing him with hope and inspiration, gradually it will lead him to discover a freedom and happiness far greater than anything the world can offer.

— Bhikkhu Bodhi

Source:

http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/dhp/dhp.intro.budd.html#intro

Notes

1.(v. 7) Mara: the Tempter in Buddhism, represented in the scriptures as an evil-minded deity who tries to lead people from the path to liberation. The commentaries explain Mara as the lord of evil forces, as mental defilements and as death.

2.(v. 8) The impurities (asubha): subjects of meditation which focus on the inherent repulsiveness of the body, recommended especially as powerful antidotes to lust.

3.(v. 21) The Deathless (amata): Nibbana, so called because those who attain it are free from the cycle of repeated birth and death.

4.(v. 22) The Noble Ones (ariya): those who have reached any of the four stages of supramundane attainment leading irreversibly to Nibbana.

5.(v. 30) Indra: the ruler of the gods in ancient Indian mythology.

6.(v. 39) The arahant is said to be beyond both merit and demerit because, as he has abandoned all defilements, he can no longer perform evil actions; and as he has no more attachment, his virtuous actions no longer bear kammic fruit.

7.(v. 45) The Striver-on-the-Path (sekha): one who has achieved any of the first three stages of supramundane attainment: a stream-enterer, once-returner, or non-returner.

8.(v. 49) The "sage in the village" is the Buddhist monk who receives his food by going silently from door to door with his alms bowls, accepting whatever is offered.

9.(v. 54) Tagara: a fragrant powder obtained from a particular kind of shrub.

10.(v. 89) This verse describes the arahant, dealt with more fully in the following chapter. The "cankers" (asava) are the four basic defilements of sensual desire, desire for continued existence, false views and ignorance.

11.(v. 97) In the Pali this verse presents a series of puns, and if the "underside" of each pun were to be translated, the verse would read thus: "The man who is faithless, ungrateful, a burglar, who destroys opportunities and eats vomit — he truly is the most excellent of men."

12.(v. 104) Brahma: a high divinity in ancient Indian religion.

13.(vv. 153-154) According to the commentary, these verses are the Buddha's "Song of Victory," his first utterance after his Enlightenment. The house is individualized existence in samsara, the house-builder craving, the rafters the passions and the ridge-pole ignorance.

14.(v. 164) Certain reeds of the bamboo family perish immediately after producing fruits.

15.(v. 178) Stream-entry (sotapatti): the first stage of supramundane attainment.

16.(vv. 190-191) The Order: both the monastic Order (bhikkhu sangha) and the Order of Noble Ones (ariya sangha) who have reached the four supramundane stages.

17.(v. 202) Aggregates (of existence) (khandha): the five groups of factors into which the Buddha analyzes the living being — material form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness.

18.(v. 218) One Bound Upstream: a non-returner (anagami).

19.(vv. 254-255) Recluse (samana): here used in the special sense of those who have reached the four supramundane stages.

20.(v. 283) The meaning of this injunction is: "Cut down the forest of lust, but do not mortify the body."

21.(v. 339) The thirty-six currents of craving: the three cravings — for sensual pleasure, for continued existence, and for annihilation — in relation to each of the twelve bases — the six sense organs, including mind, and their corresponding objects.

22.(v. 344) This verse, in the original, puns with the Pali word vana meaning both "desire" and "forest."

23.(v. 353) This was the Buddha's reply to a wandering ascetic who asked him about his teacher. The Buddha's answer shows that Supreme Enlightenment was his own unique attainment, which he had not learned from anyone else.

24.(v. 370) The five to be cut off are the five "lower fetters": self-illusion, doubt, belief in rites and rituals, lust and ill-will. The five to be abandoned are the five "higher fetters": craving for the divine realms with form, craving for the formless realms, conceit, restlessness, and ignorance. Stream-enterers and once-returners cut off the first three fetters, non-returners the next two and Arahants the last five. The five to be cultivated are the five spiritual faculties: faith, energy, mindfulness, concentration, and wisdom. The five bonds are: greed, hatred, delusion, false views, and conceit.

25.(v. 374) See note 17 (to v. 202).

26.(v. 383) "Holy man" is used as a makeshift rendering for brahmana, intended to reproduce the ambiguity of the Indian word. Originally men of spiritual stature, by the time of the Buddha the brahmans had turned into a privileged priesthood which defined itself by means of birth and lineage rather than by genuine inner sanctity. The Buddha attempted to restore to the word brahmana its original connotation by identifying the true "holy man" as the arahant, who merits the title through his own inward purity and holiness regardless of family lineage. The contrast between the two meanings is highlighted in verses 393 and 396. Those who led a contemplative life dedicated to gaining Arahantship could also be called brahmans, as in verses 383, 389, and 390.

27.(v. 385) This shore: the six sense organs; the other shore: their corresponding objects; both: I-ness and my-ness.

28.(v. 394) In the time of the Buddha, such ascetic practices as wearing matted hair and garments of hides were considered marks of holiness.

You may copy, reformat, reprint, republish, and redistribute this work in any medium whatsoever, provided that: (1) you only make such copies, etc. available free of charge and, in the case of reprinting, only in quantities of no more than 50 copies; (2) you clearly indicate that any derivatives of this work (including translations) are derived from this source document; and (3) you include the full text of this license in any copies or derivatives of this work. Otherwise, all rights reserved. Documents linked from this page may be subject to other restrictions. From The Dhammapada: The Buddha’s Path of Wisdom, translated from the Pali by Acharya Buddharakkhita, with an Introduction by Bhikkhu Bodhi (Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society, 1985). Transcribed from the print edition in 1996 by a volunteer under the auspices of the DharmaNet Transcription Project, with the kind permission of the BPS. Last revised for Access to Insight on 30 November 2013.

#Buddha #Buddhism #BuddhaSutras #Sutras #Sutra #Dhammapada

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nikosdejavu · 6 years ago

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Nikos Deja Vu - Ο Μέγας Βασίλειος (Basilius Magnus - Saint Basil of Caesarea - Vasileios The Great (The Greek Santa Claus)

Basil of Caesarea (Πατήστε ΕΔΩ για Ελληνικά) Βασίλειος ο Μέγας Αγιος Βασίλειος Vasileios The Great - Saint Basil (The Greek Santa Claus)

Saint Basil of Caesarea, also called Basil the Great (between 329 and 333 - January 1, 379) (Greek: Άγιος Βασίλειος ο Μέγας; Latin: Basilius), was the Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, and an influential 4th century Christian theologian. Theologically, Basil was a supporter of the Nicene faction of the church, in opposition to the Arians on one side and the Appollanarians on the other. His ability to balance his theological convictions with his political connections - especially with the Arian Emperor Valens - made Basil a powerful advocate for the Nicene position. In addition to his work as a theologian, Basil was known for his care of the poor and underpriveleged. He is considered a saint by the traditions of both Eastern and Western Christianity. Basil, Gregory Nazianzus, and Basil's brother Gregory of Nyssa are collectively referred to as the Cappadocian Fathers. The Eastern Orthodox Church and Eastern Catholic Churches have given him, together with Gregory Nazianzus and John Chrysostom, the title of the Three Great Hierarchs, while the Roman Catholic Church has named him a Doctor of the Church. He is also referred to as "the revealer of heavenly mysteries" (Ouranophantor). Basil established guidelines for monastic life which focus on community life, liturgical prayer and manual labor. Together with Saint Pachomius he is remembered as a father of communal monasticism in Eastern Christianity.

Life and education

Basil was born into the wealthy Greek family of Basil the Elder and Emelia around 330 in Caesarea Mazaca in Cappadocia (now known as Kayseri in Turkey). It was a large household, consisting of nine (or ten) children, the parents, and Basil's grandmother, Macrina the Elder. His parents were known for their piety, and his maternal grandfather was a Christian martyr, executed in the years prior to Constantine's conversion. Four of Basil's siblings are known by name, and considered to be saints by various Christian traditions. His older sister Macrina the Younger was a well-known nun. His older brother Peter served as bishop of Sebaste in Armenia, and wrote a few well-known tehological treatises. His brother Naucratius was an anchorite, and inspired much of Basil's theological work. Perhaps the most influential of Basil's siblings was his younger brother Gregory. Gregory was appointed by Basil to be the bishop of Nyssa, and he produced a number of writings defending Nicene theology and describing the life of early Christian monastics. Some church historians presumed Theosebia was also Basil's youngest sister, although this identification is not certain. Shortly after Basil's birth, the family moved to the estate of his grandmother Macrina, in the region of Pontus. There, Basil was educated in the home by his father and grandmother. He was greatly influenced by the elder Macrina, who herself was a student of Gregory Thaumaturgus. Following the death of his father during his teenage years, Basil returned to Caesarea in Cappadocia around 350-51 to begin his formal education. There he met Gregory of Nazianzus, who would become a lifetime friend. Together, Basil and Gregory went on to study in Constantinople, where they would have listened to the lectures of Libanius. Finally, the two spent almost six years in Athens starting around 349, where they met a fellow student who would become the unfortunate emperor Julian the Apostate. It was at Athens that he seriously began to think of religion, and resolved to seek out the most famous hermit saints in Syria and Arabia in order to learn from them how to attain enthusiastic piety and how to keep his body under submission by asceticism, what he called the "philosophical life." Prior to his decision to become a monk, he opened an oratory and practiced law in Ceasarea. He also taught rhetoric, which at the time was a very respectable place in university curricula.

Arnesi

After this, we find him as spiritual director of a convent near Arnesi in Pontus, in which his mother Emelia, then widowed, his sister Macrina and several other women, gave themselves to a pious life of prayer and charitable works. Eustathius of Sebaste had already labored in Pontus in behalf of the anchoretic life, and Basil revered him on that account, although they differed over dogmatic points, which gradually separated these two men. Basil himself gathered several disciples around him, including his own brother Peter, and these men gathered together to found the first monastery in Asia Minor. He remained there for only five years. It was here, however, that Basil wrote his works regarding monastic communal life, which are accounted as being pivotal in the development of the monastic tradition of the Eastern Church and have led to his being called the "father of Eastern communal monasticism". In 358, he left that monastery with Gregory and they became hermits, dividing their time between prayer, writing, and contemplation. It was at this time that he wrote his Philocalia, a collection of texts drawn from Origen. Siding from the beginning and at the Council of Constantinople in 360 with the Homoousians, Basil went especially with those who overcame the aversion to homoousios in common opposition to Arianism, thus drawing nearer to Athanasius of Alexandria. Like Athanasius, he was also opposed to the Macedonianism. He also became a stranger to his bishop, Dianius of Caesarea, who had subscribed only to the earlier Nicene form of agreement, and became reconciled to him only when the latter was about to die.

Caesarea

In 362 he was ordained a deacon by Bishop Meletius of Antioch. He was summoned by Eusebius of Caesarea to his city, and was ordained presbyter of the Church there in 365. His ordination was probably the result of the entreaties of his ecclesiastical superiors, who wished to use his talents against the Arians, who were numerous in that part of the country and were favoured by the Arian emperor, Valens, who then reigned in Constantinople. Basil and Gregory Nazianzus spent the next few years combating the Arian heresy, which threatened to divide the region of Cappadocia. The two friends then entered a period of close fraternal cooperation as they participated in a great rhetorical contest of the Caesarean church precipitated by the arrival of accomplished Arian theologians and rhetors. In the subsequent public debates, presided over by agents of Valens, Gregory and Basil emerged triumphant. This success confirmed for both Gregory and Basil that their futures lay in administration of the church. Basil next took on functional administration of the Diocese of Caesarea.Eusebius is reported as becoming jealous of the reputation and influence which Basil quickly developed, and allowed Basil to return to his earlier solitude. Later, however, Gregory persuaded Basil to return. Basil did so, and became the effective manager of the diocese for several years, while giving all the credit to Eusebius. In 370, Eusebius died, and Basil was chosen to succeed him. His new post as bishop of Caesarea also gave him the powers of exarch of Pontus and metropolitan of five suffragan bishops, many of whom had opposed him in the election for Eusebius's successor. It was then that his great powers were called into action. Hot-blooded and somewhat imperious, Basil was also generous and sympathetic. He personally organized a soup kitchen and distributed food to the poor during a famine following a drought. He gave away his personal family inheritance to benefit the poor of his diocese. His letters show that he actively worked to reform thieves and prostitutes. They also show him encouraging his clergy not to be tempted by wealth or the comparatively easy life of a priest, and that he personally took care in selecting worthy candidates for holy orders. He also had the courage to criticize public officials who failed in their duty of administering justice. At the same time, he preached every morning and evening in his own church to large congregations. In addition to all the above, he built a large complex just outside Caesarea, called the Basiliad, which included a poorhouse, hospice, and hospital, and was regarded at the time as one of the wonders of the world. His zeal for orthodoxy did not blind him to what was good in an opponent; and for the sake of peace and charity he was content to waive the use of orthodox terminology when it could be surrendered without a sacrifice of truth. The Emperor Valens, who was an adherent of the Arian philosophy, sent his prefect Modestus to at least agree to a compromise with the Arian faction. Basil's adamant response in the negative prompted Modestus to say that no one had ever spoken to him in that way before. Basil replied, "Perhaps you have never yet had to deal with a bishop." Modestus reported back to Valens that he believed nothing short of violence would avail against Basil. Valens was apparently unwilling to engage in violence. He did however issue orders banishing Basil repeatedly, none of which succeeded. Valens came himself to attend when Basil celebrated the Divine Liturgy on the Feast of the Theophany (Epiphany), and at that time was so impressed by Basil that he donated to him some land for the building of the Basiliad. This interaction helped to define the limits of governmental power over the church.

Basil then had to face the growing spread of Arianism. This belief system, which denied that Christ was consubstantial with the Father, was quickly gaining adherents and was seen by many, particularly those in Alexandria most familiar with it, as posing a threat to the unity of the church. Basil entered into connections with the West, and with the help of Athanasius, he tried to overcome its distrustful attitude toward the Homoiousians. The difficulties had been enhanced by bringing in the question as to the essence of the Holy Spirit. Although Basil advocated objectively the consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit with the Father and the Son, he belonged to those, who, faithful to Eastern tradition, would not allow the predicate homoousios to the former; for this he was reproached as early as 371 by the Orthodox zealots among the monks, and Athanasius defended him. He maintained a relationship with Eustathius despite dogmatic differences. On the other hand, Basil was grievously offended by the extreme adherents of Homoousianism, who seemed to him to be reviving the Sabellian heresy. Basil corresponded with Pope Damasus in the hope of having the Roman bishop condemn heresy wherever found, both East and West. The Pope's apparent indifference upset Basil's zeal and he turned around in distress and sadness. It is still a point of controversy over how much he believed the Roman See could do for the Churches in the East, as many Roman Catholic theologians claim the primacy of the Roman bishopric over the rest of the Churches, both in doctrine and in authoritative strength. He did not live to see the end of the unhappy factional disturbances and the complete success of his continued exertions in behalf of the Church. He suffered from liver illness and his excessive asceticism seems to have hastened him to an early death. A lasting monument of his episcopal care for the poor was the great institute before the gates of Caesarea, which was used as poorhouse, hospital, and hospice. The 5th century church historian Sozomen records a meeting between Basil and Ephraim the Syrian, though many modern scholars dismiss the account as legendary.

Writings

The principal theological writings of Basil are his On the Holy Spirit, a lucid and edifying appeal to Scripture and early Christian tradition (to prove the divinity of the Holy Spirit), and his Refutation of the Apology of the Impious Eunomius, written in 363 or 364, three books against Eunomius of Cyzicus, the chief exponent of Anomoian Arianism. The first three books of the Refutation are his work; the fourth and fifth books that are usually included do not belong to Basil, or to Apollinaris of Laodicea, but probably to Didymus "the Blind" of Alexandria. He was a famous preacher, and many of his homilies, including a series of Lenten lectures on the Hexaemeron (the Six Days of Creation), and an exposition of the psalter, have been preserved. Some, like that against usury and that on the famine in 368, are valuable for the history of morals; others illustrate the honor paid to martyrs and relics; the address to young men on the study of classical literature shows that Basil was lastingly influenced by his own education, which taught him to appreciate the propaedeutic importance of the classics. In his exegesis Basil tended to interpret Scripture literally—following more the Antiochian school—rather than allegorically as Origen and the Alexandrian school had done. Concerning this, he wrote: "I know the laws of allegory, though less by myself than from the works of others. There are those, truly, who do not admit the common sense of the Scriptures, for whom water is not water, but some other nature, who see in a plant, in a fish, what their fancy wishes, who change the nature of reptiles and of wild beasts to suit their allegories, like the interpreters of dreams who explain visions in sleep to make them serve their own end." His ascetic tendencies are exhibited in the Moralia and Asketika (sometimes mistranslated as Rules of St. Basil), ethical manuals for use in the world and the cloister, respectively. Of the two works known as the Greater Asketikon and the Lesser Asketikon, the shorter is the one most probably his work. It is in the ethical manuals and moral sermons that the practical aspects of his theoretical theology are illustrated. So, for example, it is in his Sermon to the Lazicans that we find St. Basil explaining how it is our common nature that obliges us to treat our neighbor's natural needs (e.g., hunger, thirst) as our own, even though he is a separate individual. Later theologians explicitly explain this as an example of how the saints become an image of the one common nature of the persons of the Trinity. His three hundred letters reveal a rich and observant nature, which, despite the troubles of ill-health and ecclesiastical unrest, remained optimistic, tender and even playful. His principal efforts as a reformer were directed towards the improvement of the liturgy, and the reformation of the monastic institutions of the East. Most of the liturgies bearing the name of Basil are not entirely his work in their present form, but they nevertheless preserve a recollection of Basil's activity in this field in formularizing liturgical prayers and promoting church-song. One liturgy that can be attributed to him is The Divine Liturgy of Saint Basil the Great, a liturgy that is somewhat longer than the more commonly used Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom. The difference between the two is primarily in the silent prayers said by the priest, and in the use of the hymn to the Theotokos, All of Creation, instead of the Axion Estin of Saint John Chrysostom's Liturgy. Chrysostom's Liturgy has come to replace Saint Basil's on most days in the Eastern Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic liturgical traditions. However, they still use Saint Basil's Liturgy on certain feast days: the first five Sundays of Great Lent; the Eves of Nativity and Theophany; and on Maundy Thursday and Holy Saturday; and the Feast of Saint Basil, January 1 (for those churches which follow the Julian Calendar, their January 1 falls on January 14 of the Gregorian Calendar). The Eastern Churches preserve numerous other prayers attributed to Saint Basil, including three Prayers of Exorcism, several Morning and Evening Prayers, the "Prayer of the Hours" which is read at each service of the Daily Office, and the long and moving "Kneeling Prayers" which are recited by the priest at Vespers on Pentecost in the Byzantine Rite. Most of his extant works, and a few spuriously attributed to him, are available in the Patrologia Graecae, which includes Latin translations of varying quality. Several of St. Basil's works have appeared in the late twentieth century in the Sources Chretiennes collection. No critical edition is yet available.

Legacy

Basil was given the title Doctor of the Church for his contributions to the debate initiated by the Arian controversy regarding the nature of the Trinity, and especially the question of the divinity of the Holy Spirit. Basil was responsible for defining the terms ousia (nature) and hypostasis (being or person), and for defining the classic formulation of three Persons in one Nature. His single greatest contribution was his insistence on the divinity and consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit with the Father and the Son. Basil of Caesarea holds a very important place in the history of Christian liturgy, coming as he did at the end of the age of persecution. At this time, liturgical prayers were transitioning from being extemporaneous or memorized into written formulas, and liturgy began to be influenced by court ritual. Basil's liturgical influence is well attested in early sources. Though it is difficult at this time to know exactly which parts of the Divine Liturgies which bear his name are actually his work, a vast corpus of prayers attributed to him has survived in the various Eastern Christian churches. Tradition also credits Basil with the elevation of the iconostasis to its present height. The Basilian Fathers, also known as The Congregation of St. Basil, an international order of Roman Catholic priests and students studying for the priesthood, is named after him. It is a common misconception that Saint Basil's Cathedral in Moscow is named after Basil the Great; however, it is in fact named after Saint Basil the Fool for Christ (Yurodivy). In Greek tradition, his name was given to Father Christmas and is supposed to visit children and give presents every January 1 (when Basil's memory is celebrated)—unlike other traditions where this person is Saint Nicholas and comes either on December 6 (St. Nicholas' Day) or on Christmas Eve. It is traditional on St. Basil's Day to serve Vasilopita, a rich bread baked with a coin inside, in commemoration of St. Basil's charity. It is customary on his feast day to visit the homes of friends and relatives, to sing carols, and to set an extra place at the table for Saint Basil.

Feast day

Basil died on January 1, and this continues to be the day on which his feast day is celebrated, in conjunction with with the Feast of the Circumcision, throughout Eastern Christianity (for those churches which follow the traditional Julian Calendar, January 1 falls on January 14 of the modern Gregorian Calendar). However, in the calendar of saints of the Roman Catholic Church Saint Basil is commemorated on January 2. Prior to the reforms of the Second Vatican Council, his feast day was celebrated on June 14 in the West. The Church of England celebrates him on January 2, while the Episcopal Church continues to commemorate him on June 14. The Lutheran calendar commemorates Basil the Great on January 10 and June 14, in both cases he is remembered together with Gregory Nazianzus and Gregory of Nyssa. An additional feast day is celebrated on January 30 (February 12) by the Eastern Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic churches on which Saint Basil is celebrated together with Gregory the Theologian and John Chrysostom, a feast which is known as the Synaxis of the Three Holy Hierarchs. The Coptic Orthodox Church of Alexandria celebrates the feast day of Saint Basil on the 6th of Tobi (6th of Terr on the Ethiopian calendar of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church). This corresponds with either January 15 or January 16 of the Gregorian Calendar, depending upon the year.

Relics

Although numerous relics of Saint Basil are found throughout the world, one of the most important is his head, which is preserved to this day at the monastery of the Great Lavra on Mount Athos in Greece.

An interesting Metamorphosis of Santa in Demre (Antalya - Turkey)

The metamorphosis of the humble Santa Claus (the Greek Saint Nicholas in reality) into the commercially more interesting "Santa Claus", which took several centuries in Europe and America, has recently been re-enacted in the Saint's home town, the city of Demre. This modern Turkish town is built near the ruins of ancient Myra. As St. Nicholas is a very popular Orthodox saint, the city attracts many Russian tourists. A solemn bronze statue of the Saint by the Russian sculptor Gregory Pototsky, donated by the Russian government in 2000, was given a prominent place on the square in front of the medieval church of St. Nicholas. In 2005, mayor Suleyman Topcu had the statue replaced by a red-suited plastic Santa Claus statue, because he wanted the central statue to be more recognizable to visitors from all over the world. Protests from the Russian government against this action were successful only to the extent that the Russian statue was returned, without its original high pedestal, to a corner near the church.

Nikos Deja Vu n1999k.blogspot.com

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free-mormons-blog · 8 years ago

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Jerusalem: In Early Christianty -- Mormonism and Early Christianity -- HUGH NIBLEY 1987

Jerusalem: In Early Christianty

Christian concern with Jerusalem involves the ancient concept of the city as a shrine of preeminent holiness, marking the physical and spiritual center of the cosmos, the spot at which history began and at which it shall reach its apocalyptic consummation.1 The idea of an umbilicus mundi, a scale-model as it were of the universe itself,2 at which a nation or tribe would gather periodically to renew its corporate life by the observance of the now familiar year-rites, was familiar to many ancient peoples,3 and the nations converted to Christianity had no difficulty accepting the supreme eschatological significance of Jerusalem and its Temple.4 The city’s unique status, however, raised certain questions which have never ceased to puzzle and divide Christian theologians, namely, (1) Just how literally are Jerusalem’s claims and promises to be taken? (2) How can the glory of Jerusalem be disassociated from the Jews and their persistent claims to be its legitimate heirs? (3) How can the prized continuity (back to Adam) of the city’s long history be maintained if Christianity is a completely new, spiritualized beginning? (4) How can Jerusalem be the Holy City par excellence without also being the headquarters of the church? (5) How can the city’s prestige be exploited in the interests of a particular church or nation?

These issues have all come to the fore in each of the main periods of Christian preoccupation with Jerusalem, namely, (1) the “Golden Age” of the 2nd and 3rd centuries, (2) the Imperial Age from Constantine to Justinian, (3) the Carolingian revival, (4) the Crusades, (5) the period of intrigues and grand designs, (6) the time of patronage by the Great Powers, and (7) the rise of Israel.

The question of literalism was paramount in the second and third centuries; the early Christians had been Jews of the apocalyptic-chiliastic persuasion with lively visions of a literal New Jerusalem, while an educated and growing minority (as also among the Jews) favored a more spiritual interpretation of the biblical promises and accused the old-school Christians of superstition and “Judaizing.”5 The banning of Jews from the city by Hadrian gave an advantage to the Gentile party,6 and the “Doctors of the Church” made the Hellenized or “spiritualized” image of Jerusalem the official one.7 Still, the millennialist teachings survived beneath the surface, occasionally bursting out in sectarian enthusiasm or becoming general in times of crisis, 8 while the doctors themselves repeatedly succumbed to the enticements of a real and earthly Holy City.9 Hence, the ambiguities of literalism versus allegory might have been minimized were it not that the continued presence and preachings of the Jews forced the Christians in self-defense to appeal to the doctrines of a purely spiritual Jerusalem.10

From Origen’s time to the present, churchmen of all sects have been one in insisting that the New Jerusalem is for Christians only, since the Jewish city can never rise again.11 In the absence of scriptural support for this claim various stock arguments are used, namely, Josephus’ description of the destruction of A.D. 70, with its atmosphere of gloom and finality;12 the argument of silence—the Bible says nothing about a restitution of the city after Vespasian;13 the ominously lengthening period of time since the expulsion of the Jews;14 various tortured allegorical and numerological demonstrations; 15 the appeal to history with the ringing rhetorical challenge: “Where is your city now?”16 A favorite argument (akin to a Jewish teaching about the Diaspora) was that Jerusalem had to be destroyed so that Jews and Christians alike might be scattered throughout the world as witnesses to the fulfillment of prophecy in the new religion.17 Against these were arguments which never ceased to annoy: Why did the city and temple continue to flourish for forty-two years after the final pronunciation of doom, and why during that time did the Christians show every mark of reverence and respect for both?18 Why did Jesus weep for the destruction if it was in every sense necessary and desirable?19 Why do the doctors insist that the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans was a great crime, and yet hail it as a blessed event, saluting its perpetrators as the builders of the New Jerusalem even though they were the chief persecutors of the Christians?20 If expulsion from Jerusalem is proof of divine rejection of the Jews, does the principle not also hold good for their Christian successors?21 How can the antichrist sit in the temple unless the city and temple are built again by the Jews?22 The standard argument, that only a total and final dissolution would be fit punishment for the supreme crime of deicide,23 was frustrated by the time schedule, which suggested to many that the city was destroyed to avenge the death not of Jesus but of James the Just.24

But if Jerusalem was to be permanently obliterated, how could the Christians inherit it? In a spiritual sense, of course. The church was the New Jerusalem in which all prophecy was fulfilled, the Millennium attained, and all things became new.25 But this raised a serious question of continuity: Has God chosen another people? Can one preserve the meaning of the eschatological drama while changing all the characters?26 Can a people (the Christians) be gathered that was never scattered?27 And what of the Heavenly Jerusalem? The approved school solution with its inevitable rhetorical antithesis was to depict the Heavenly and the Earthly Jerusalems as opposites in all things, the one spiritual, the other carnal;28 yet none of the fathers is able to rid himself of “corporeal” complications in the picture, and the two Jerusalems remain hopelessly confused, 29 for in the end the two are actually to meet and fuse into one.30 Palestine was the scene of busy theological controversy and these and related mysteries when the “Golden Age” of Christian Jerusalem came to an end with the persecutions of A.D. 250.31

After the storm had passed, Constantine the Great at Rome, Nicaea, Constantinople, and elsewhere celebrated his victories over the temporal and spiritual enemies of mankind with brilliant festivals and imposing monuments.32 But his greatest victory trophy was “the New Jerusalem,” a sacral complex of buildings presenting the old “hierocentric” concepts in the Imperial pagan form, with the Holy Sepulchre as the center and chief shrine of the world. 33 Jerusalem was treated as the legitimate spoils of Christian-Roman victory over the Jews, whose entire heritage accordingly-including the temple—passed intact into the hands of the Christians.34 Henceforth, there remained no objections to giving Jerusalem its full meed of honor.35 Continuity back to Adam was established with suspicious ease by the rapid and miraculous discovery of every relic and artifact mentioned in the Bible;36 and a flood of pilgrims came to rehearse, Bible in hand (the earliest pilgrims, Silvia [383 A.D.] and the Bordeaux Pilgrim [333 A.D.], are markedly partial to Old Testament remains), the events of each holy place and undertake weary walks and vigils in a cult strangely preoccupied with caves37 and rites of the dead.38 The Patriarch Macarius, who may have contrived the convenient discoveries of holy objects with an eye to restoring Jerusalem to its former preeminence,39 promoted a building boom which reached a peak of great activity in the sixth and seventh centuries.40 Financed at first by imperial bounty, the building program was later supported by wealthy individuals, and especially by a line of illustrious matrons whose concern for the Holy City goes back to Queen Helen of Adiabene, 41 and whose number includes Helen, the mother of Constantine; his mother-in-law, Eutropia; Eudocia, the wife of Theodosius II; Verina, the wife of Leo II; Sophia, the mother of St. Sabas; Paula, Flavia, Domitilla, and Melania, rich Roman ladies and friends of St. Jerome.42 By the end of the fourth century, Jerusalem had more than 300 religious foundations, sustained by generous infusions of outside capital, until the economic decline of the fifth century forced the government to take the initiative, culminating in Justinian’s ambitious but fruitless building program.43 The period was one of specious brilliance in which, A. J. Hubert notes, everything had to be splendens, rutilans, nitens, micans, radians, corsucans—i.e., brilliantly surfaced—while the actual remains of the buildings show slipshod and superficial workmanship. 44

Spared the barbarian depredations suffered by most of the world in the fifth and sixth centuries, Jerusalem was an island of security and easy money, where the population of all ranks was free to indulge in those factional feuds which were the blight of the Late Empire. Points of doctrine furnished stimulation and pretext for violent contests involving confused and shifting combinations, ambitious churchmen and their congregations, hordes of desert monks, government and military officials and their forces, local and national, the ever-meddling great ladies, members of the Imperial family and their followings, and the riotous and ubiquitous factions of the games.45 The Jews of Alexandria became associated with one of these factions of the Emperor Phocas, who ordered his general Bonossus to suppress the corresponding faction in Jerusalem by converting all Jews by force.46 While pitched battles raged in the streets, a Persian army appeared at the gates, sent by Chosroes, the pro-Christian monarch, seeking vengeance on the treacherous Phocas for the murder of his friend Mauritius. 47 The Jews regarded this as a timely deliverance by a nation that had succored them before and sided with the Persians—an act not of treachery (as Christian writers would have it) but of war, since Phocas had already called for their extermination as a people.48 The Christian world was stunned when Chosroes took the cross from Jerusalem in A.D. 614, and elated when the victorious Heraclius brought it back in 628. Under the vehement urging of the monk Modestus, whom he had made patriarch and who aspired to rebuild Jerusalem as a new Macarius, Heraclius, against his better judgment, took savage reprisals on the Jews. 49 But within ten years the city fell to Omar, who allowed the pilgrimages to continue while making Jerusalem a great Moslem shrine by the revival of the temple complex, which the Christians also, after long and studied neglect, now claimed as their own.50

Though Christians, originally as Jews and, later, on church business, had always made pilgrimages to Jerusalem,51 the great surge of popular interest beginning in the fourth century alarmed some churchmen, who denounced the pilgrimage as a waste of time and means, dangerous to life and morals, and a disruptive influence in the church.52 Along with monasticism, with which it was closely associated, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem was an attempt to get back to the first order of the church, to retrieve the lost world of visions, martyrs, prophets, and miracles;53 and this implied dissatisfaction with the present order.54 The writings of the fathers furnish abundant evidence for the basic motivation of the pilgrims, which was the desire to reassure oneself of the truth of Christianity by seeing and touching the very things the Bible told of55 and experiencing contact with the other world by some overt demonstration (healing was the most popular) of supernatural power. 56 Only at Jerusalem could one receive this historical and miraculous reassurance in its fullness; only there did one have a right to expect a miracle.57 The earliest holy place visited “was not, as might have been supposed,” the Holy Sepulchre, but the footprint of the Lord on the Mount of Olives, the spot where he was last seen of men as he passed to heaven, and would first be seen on his return.58 Contact was the basic idea, contact with the biblical past and contact with heaven itself, of which Jerusalem was believed to be a physical fragment.59 Tangible pieces of the Holy City, carried to distant parts of the world, gave rise to other holy centers, which in turn sent out their tangible relics like sparks from a central fire: Sparsa sunt ligna et accensus est mundus, says St. Augustine.60 The Christian world was soon covered by a net of holy shrines, built in imitation of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre or the temple, and often designated by the names of Jerusalem, the temple, or the sepulchre.61 Each became a pilgrim center in its own right, and there was a graded system of holiness measured on a scale of distance in time from the Lord and in place from Jerusalem,62 which remained “as far above all the other cities in the world in renown and holiness as the sun is above the stars.”63

After being fought over for two centuries by Moslem dynasties, Jerusalem in 800 was placed under the protection of Charlemagne, who was doing Hārūn al-Rashīd the service of annoying his Umayyad enemies in Spain.64 Though Rome had come under his protection five years earlier in the same way—by the presentation of holy keys and a banner by the bishop—it was the prestige of ruling Jerusalem that warranted the changing of Charlemagne’s title from king to emperor.65 Like Constantine, Charlemagne stimulated a revival of large-scale pilgrimages to Jerusalem,66 and a tradition of royal generosity, endowing a church, school, monastery, and library67—the Jerusalem hospitals for pilgrims were a tradition going back to pre-Christian times.68 From Darius to Augustus and the emperors of the West, great rulers had courted the favor of heaven by pious donatives to the Holy City,69 and this tradition of royal bounty was continued through the Middle Ages, when kings imposed Jerusalem taxes on their subjects and monks from Jerusalem made regular fund-gathering trips to Europe.70 During the years of the “quasi-Protectorate of the Western Emperors” over Jerusalem and the revived Byzantine control (made possible by Moslem disunity),71 Northern and Slavic Europe came to bathe in the Jordan, pray at the Holy Sepulchre, and endow pious foundations. 72 Stimulated by the end-of-the-world excitement of the year 1000, this stream “multiplied tenfold” in the 11th century,73 culminating in great mass pilgrimages of thousands led by eminent lords and churchmen.74 When the Seljuks, having defeated the Byzantine army in 1071 and occupied Jerusalem in 1075, became oppressive in their fees and controls of the holy places, Christian leadership felt obliged to “take up again the part of Charlemagne,” and the armed pilgrimage led by Robert le Frison, 1085—90, was hailed throughout Europe and viewed by the Pope and the Byzantine Emperor alike as advance reconnaissance for a crusade.75

The Crusades were the expression of a popular religious revival in which Jerusalem, restored to its full apocalyptic status (the Crusading literature has a strongly Old Testament flavor),76 offered a welcome door of escape to all classes from economic and social conditions which in Europe had become intolerable.77 The Crusades have also been described as the complete feudalization of Christianity78 by an ancient chivalric tradition with Christ as a liege lord whose injuries must be avenged and whose stronghold must be liberated. 79 We see it in the language of the Crusading literature,80 the significant exchange of embassies, and the close resemblance of Asiatic to European arms and accoutrements, suggesting an older common “epic milieu,”81 and the nature of the Crusades as a Völkerwanderung.82 Since the fourth century the western church had accepted, along with the Roman victory-cult,83 the concept of world polarity, dividing the human race into the Blessed (Jerusalem, Church, ager pacatus) and the Damned (Babylon, Unbelievers, ager hosticus), 84 reflected in the jihād concept of the Moslem countercrusade.85 Such a concept assumed papal leadership of all crusades, giving rise to baffling questions of imperial, papal, and royal prerogative.86 These came to a head in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, whose Assizes, though the most perfect expression of a model feudal society, remained but an ideal,87 “a lawyers’ paradise,” where royalty, exploiting the city’s propinquity to heaven, dramatized its own claims to divine authority, with pageantry of unsurpassed splendor.88 This motif was developed by the military religious orders of the Hospitalers (founded by the Amalfi merchants in 1048 and open only to the nobility), and the Templars, each claiming a monopoly of the unique traditional power and glory of Jerusalem and the temple, and hence displaying an independence of action which in the end was its undoing.89

The Crusades challenged the infidel to a formal trial-of-arms at Jerusalem, to prove which side was chosen of God.90 The great scandal of the Crusades is accordingly not the cynical self-interest, betrayal, and compromise with the enemy that blights them from the beginning,91 but simply their clear-cut and humiliating failure,92 which dealt a mortal blow to medieval ideas of feudal and ecclesiastical dominion.93 With the loss of all the East, “Operation Jerusalem” adopted a new strategy of indirection, approaching its goal variously and deviously by wars against European heretics,94 by preaching missions, through which the Franciscans held a permanent Roman bridgehead in Jerusalem,95 and by local crusades against Jews and Moslems as steps in grand designs of global strategy: the grandiose plans of Charles VIII, Alfonso of Castile, João II, Albuquerque, and Don Sebastian all had as their ultimate objective the liberation of the Holy Sepulchre,96 as indeed did all of Columbus’ projects.97A marked cabalistic influence has been detected in these plans, and indeed the ever-living hopes of the Jews, fired by new prophecies and new messiahs, were not without effect in Catholic and Protestant circles, 98 as appears in the career of the Humanist Guillaume Postel, who, acclaimed at the court of France for his philological researches in Jerusalem, urged the transfer of the Papacy to that city, and finally declared himself to be the Shekhinah.99

The great reformers, while mildly condemning pilgrimages,100 placed strong emphasis on the purely spiritual nature of the New Jerusalem and the utter impossibility of the Jews’ ever returning to build an earthly city.101 This was necessary to counteract the tendency to apocalyptic excitement and renewed deference to the Jews attendant upon the Reformation’s intensive preoccupation with the Bible,102 as various groups of enthusiasts took to building their own local New Jerusalems103 or preparing to migrate to Palestine for the task;104 such groups flourished down through the 19th century.105 Protestant pilgrims to Jerusalem from the 16th to the 20th centuries have consistently condemned the “mummery” of the older pilgrimages while indulging in their own brand of ecstatic dramatizations.106 While the Catholic practice has been to identify archaeological remains as the very objects mentioned in the Bible, the Protestants have been no less zealous in detecting proof for the scriptures in every type of object observed in the Holy Land.107 Chateaubriand’s much publicized visit to Jerusalem in 1806 combined religious, literary, and intellectual interest and established a romantic appeal of the Holy Land that lasted through the century.108 When Jerusalem was thrown open to the West in the 1830s by Mohammed Ali, European and American missionaries hastened to the spot with ambitious projects of converting the Jews with an eye to the fulfillment of prophecy in the ultimate restoration of the Holy City.109 Even the ill-starred Anglo-Lutheran Bishopric of 1841 had that in view,110 and Newman’s denunciation of the plan as a base concession to the Jews and Protestants111 indicated the stand of the Roman Church, which in 1847 appointed a resident patriarch for Jerusalem.112 In the mounting rivalry of missions and foundations that followed, France used her offices as protector of Roman Catholics and Holy Places in the East (under the Capitulations of Francis I, 1535, renewed in 1740) to advance her interests in the Orient, e.g., in the Damascus ritual-murder affair of 1840;113 and when Louis Napoleon was obliged by his Catholic constituents to reactivate French claims to holy places which France had long neglected and the Russians long cherished, “the foolish affair of the Holy Places” (as he called it) led to the Crimean War and its portentous chain of consequences.114

In the second half of the nineteenth century the major powers of churches were stimulated by mutual rivalry to seek commanding positions in Jerusalem through the founding of eleemosynary institutions over which they retained control.115 Beyond the hard facts of geography and economics, the religious significance of the city continued to exert steady pressure on the policies of all the great powers, as when the German kaiser gratified his Catholic subjects with the gift of the “Dormition,”116proclaimed Protestant unity by the dedication of the great Jerusalem and the patronage (thwarted by his advisers)117 of Palestinian Zionism.118 The taking of Jerusalem by Allenby in 1917 was hailed throughout the Christian world as the fulfillment of prophecy,119 and deplored by the Moslems as a typical Crusade against their holy city.120 World War II was followed by increasing interest in Jerusalem as a center of oecumenical Christianity,121 though old religious and national rivalries, of long standing and great variety, continued to flourish.122 The twentieth-century pilgrimages acquired a touristic air in keeping with the times, interest in Jerusalem having a more sophisticated and intellectual tone.123 Even the old and vexing problem of the priority of Jerusalem, “mother of Churches,” over other Christian bishoprics is now approached in a spirit of mutual concession and with respect for the autonomy of the various bishoprics of Jerusalem.124 This liberal attitude may be a response to what is regarded in some Christian circles as the Jewish challenge to the basic Christian thesis that only Christians can possess a New Jerusalem.125 While the great powers for over a century cautiously sought to exploit the energies of Zionism and its sympathizers,126 it is now openly conceded that the Jews might indeed rebuild their city—though only as potential Christians. 127 Though some Christians are even willing to waive that proviso,128 the fundamental thesis is so firmly rooted that the progress of Israel is commonly viewed not as a refutation of it but as a baffling and disturbing paradox. 129 The Roman position, reflecting a 2000-year battle of prestige between Rome and Jerusalem,130 is especially resistant to change.131

With the Israel military victories of 1948, 1956, and 1967, the Christian world was confronted by a new image of a heroic Israel. The picture was agreeable or disturbing to Christians depending on which of two main postions one chose to take, and the years of tension following the Six-Day War of June 1967 were marked by an increasing tendency among Christians everywhere to choose sides. On the one hand, the tradition of the Church Fathers and Reformers, emphasized anew by Arnold Toynbee, looked upon a Jewish Jerusalem as a hopeless anachronism, and deplored any inclination to identify ancient with modern Israel. This attitude rested on the theory, developed by generations of theologians, that only Christians could be rightful heirs to the true Covenant and the Holy City. Roman Catholics continued to hold the position, propounded by Pope Pius X to Herzl in 1904, that the return of the Jews to Jerusalem was a demonstration of messianic expectations which that church considered discredited and outmoded. Those suspicious of the progress of Israel naturally chose to minimize the moral and world-historical significance of Jerusalem, and to treat the problems of modern Israel as purely political. On the other hand were Bible-oriented Christians of all denominations in whom the successes of the Israelis inspired to a greater or lesser extent renewed hope and interest in the literal fulfillment of biblical prophecy. To such persons in varying degrees the Jewish military achievements appeared as steps toward the fulfillment of the eschatological promise to Abraham (Genesis 15:18) As interest in Jerusalem shifted from the antiquarian appeal of the 1950s to heightened eschatological allure, something of the old Christian vision of Jerusalem seemed to stir the Christian conscience.

If Jerusalem did not exist, the Christians would have to invent it—indeed they have invented it, choking with emotion at the sight of sixteenth-century walls and tracing the Lord’s footsteps through late medieval streets.132 It has always been an indispensable authentication for their faith and an abiding reminder of prophetic promises.

* This article first appeared under “Jerusalem: In Christianity” in the Encyclopedia Judaica, 16 vols. (Jerusalem: Macmillan, 1972) 9:1568—75. The footnotes are published here for the first time.

1. H. W. Hertzberg, “Der heilige Fels und das Alte Testament,” Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society 12 (1932): 32, 39—42.

2. Sibylle Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” Welt als Geschichte 22 (1962): 19.

3. For a recent coordination with emphasis on Hebrew rites, see Samuel H. Hooke, ed., Myth, Ritual, and Kingship (Oxford: Clarendon, 1958).

4. Jerusalem is to all Christians what Athens is to the Greeks and Rome to the Latins, Jerome, Epistolae (Letters) 46, in PL 22:489. The rites of the old shrines are now transferred to the Christian center, Theodoret, Graecarum Affectionum Curatio 11, in PG 83:1095.

5. The issue is clearly stated by Jerome, Commentarius in Isaiam Prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) XIV, 51, 7—13, in PL 24:487—88; XV, 54, 1—3, in PL 24:516; XVIII, 65, preface, in PL 24:627; Jerome, Commentarius in Jeremiam Prophetam (Commentary on Jeremiah) IV, 19, in PL 24:802, n.b; VI, 22, in PL 24:886, and in the note in Origen, Contra Celsum (Against Celsus) IV, 22, in PG 11:1058, n. 74.

6. “Dissertatio de Vita Sancti Cyrilli” (“Disquisition on the Life of Saint Cyril”) I, 6, 34, in PG 33:61.

7. It is only the ignorant rabble who “promise us a rebuilding of Jerusalem,” Theodoret, In Divini Ezechielis Prophetiam (On the Divine Prophecies of Ezekiel) 1045, in PG 81:1248; so Origen, Against Celsus IV, 80, in PG 11:1105—8; Origen, Peri Archon (On First Things) II, 4, 3, in PG 11:201—3; Jerome, Commentary on IsaiahXV, 54, 1—3, in PL 24:516; XVIII, 65, preface, in PL 24:627—29.

8. Friedrich Baethgen, Der Engelpapst (Halle: Niemeyer, 1933), 76—77; Ray C. Petry, in Church History, 10 vols. (New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1962—64), 9:55.

9. Justin Martyr, Dialogus cum Tryphone (Dialogue with Trypho) 80, in PG 6:665; Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos (Expositions on the Psalms) 30, 8—10, in PL36:253; Augustine, Contra Litteras Petiliani Donatistae (Against the Writings of Petilianus the Donatist) IV, 25—28, in PL 43:409—10; Jerome, Letters 46, in PL22:485, 489; Cassiodorus, Expositio in Psalterium (Commentary on the Psalms) 86, 7—end, in PL 70:474, 621; Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarius in Isaiam Prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) 292, in PG 70:468.

10. When Christians are accused of Judaizing, the specific charge is “Chiliasm,” which “is found wherever the Gospel is not yet Hellenized, and must be regarded as a main element of Christian preaching,” Adolf von Harnack, History of Dogma, 7 vols. (New York: Russell & Russell, 1958), 1:167, n. 1.

11. Arguments and references in Origen, Against Celsus IV, 22—23, in PG 11:1055—60. Protestant writers are just as emphatic, note 100 below.

12. Flavius Josephus, Jewish War VI, 403—22.

13. Origen, Against Celsus IV, 22, in PG 11:1057; George Cedrenus, Historiarum Compendium (Compendium of History) 1, 408—10, in PG 121:448—49; Theodoret, Interpretatio in Psalmos (Interpretation of Psalms) 73, 1—3, in PG 80:1453—56.

14. With each successive writer, this argument becomes more effective, e.g., Origen, Against Celsus IV, 22, in PG 11:1081; Hilary, Tractatus super Psalmos (Treatise on the Psalms) 58, 12, in PL 9:381; 124, 2—3, in PL 9:680; 126, 1—2, in PL 9:693; “Index Analyticus in Cyrillum,” in PG 33:1711; Cosmas, Topographia Christiana (Christian Topography) 111, in PG 88:168; Fulbert, Tractatus contra Judaeos (Treatise against the Jews) 2, in PL 141:312; 3, in PL 141:317—18; Andronicus Comnenus, Dialogus contra Judaeos (Dialogue against the Jews) 41, in PG 133:869; Ernest Wilhelm Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament, 4 vols., tr. James Martin (Edinburgh: Clark, 1858), 3:291—92.

15. Cedrenus, Compendium of History 1, 285—87, 423—24, in PG 121:321, 461—64; Michaeus Glycas, Annales (Annals) 238, in PG 158:449; Sulpicius Severus, Chronicon (Chronicle) 2, 33, in PL 20:147—48.

16. Using almost identical words, Ambrose, Historiae de Excidio Hierosolymitanae Urbis (History of the Destruction of Jerusalem) 19—20, in PL 15:2323; Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms 73, 1—4, in PL 36:929, but especially 931—32; Andronicus Comnenus, Dialogue against the Jews 54, in PG 133:893; Anonymus Saeculus, Tractatus adversus Judaeum (Tract against a Jew) 39, in PL 213:777; Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann, eds, Luther’s Works, 30 vols. (Philadelphia: Concordia, 1957), 2:361; or D. Martin Luthers Werke, 92 vols. (Weimar: Hermann Böhlau, 1883—1941; reprinted Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1966—83), 42:520.

17. Irenaeus, Contra Haereses (Against Heresies) IV, 3, 1, in PG 7:980; Justin, Apologia pro Christianis (Apology) 49, 5, in PL 6:336; Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms 30, 8—10, in PL 36:253; Cyril of Alexandria, Commentary on Isaiah 37, in PG 70:72. TB, Pesaḥim 87b—88a.

18. Jerome bridges the gap by transferring the angelic announcement of A.D. 70 —transeamus ex his sedibus—to the time of the crucifixion, Epistola Paulae et Eutochii ad Marcellam (Letter of Paula and Eutochius to Marcella), discussed by Robert Eisler, Iesous Basileus ou Basileusas, 2 vols. (Heidelberg: Winter, 1929), 1:130. Cf. Walafridus Strabus, De Subversione Jerusalem (On the Destruction of Jerusalem), in PL 114:967; Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 13.

19. Gregorius Magnus (Gregory the Great), Homiliae in Evangelia (Homilies on the Gospel) II, 39, in PL 76:1294—95; Strabus, On the Destruction of Jerusalem, in PL 114:971, 965; Origen, Homiliae in Jeremiam (Homlies on Jeremiah) 13, 1—3, in PG 13:400—01; Cyril of Alexandria, Commentary on Isaiah 407, in PG 70:648.

20. Hadrian is both the benefactor of the human race and the Abomination of Desolation: Eusebius, HE IV, 5—6, in PG 20:308—16; cf. Domitian, cited in ibid. III, 19, in PG 20:252; Hadrian’s Aelia was the New Jerusalem! Cedrenus, Compendium of History 1, 437—38, in PG 121:477. Titus’ attack on Jerusalem was directed especially against the Christians, Sulpicius Severus, Chronicon 2, 50, in PL 20:157—58; Vespasian feared the Christians as he did the Jews, René Basset, ed., “Le synaxaire arabe jacobite,” in PO 16:310.

21. The Christians find themselves in exactly the same position as the Jews and are given the identical comfort, Lactantius, Divinae Institutiones (Divine Institutes) V, 23, in PL 6:627—28; Origen, In Lucam Homiliae (Homily on Luke) 38, in PG 13:1897; Jerome, Commentarius in Ezechielem (Commentary on Ezekiel) 36, in PL25:340; Cassiodorus, Commentary on the Psalms 59, 7—9, in PL 70:422; Haymond of Halberstadt, Enarratio in Malachiam Prophetam (Exposition on Malachi) 14, in PL 117:276. The principle had been laid down that whoever holds the Holy Places is the true church, since God would never allow them to fall into the hands of unbelievers. Athanasius, Quaestiones ad Antiochum Ducem (Questions to Duke Antiochus) 43—45, in PG 28:625. Below, note 91. The fathers are pleased to be able to identify their people with the Jews through their parallel sufferings.

22. Irenaeus, Against Heresies V, 25, 1—2, in PG 7:1189; Hippolytus, Exegetica 21—22, in PG 10:656, 921, 928; Cyril of Jerusalem, Catecheses (Catechetical Lectures) 15, in PG 33:889; Clement of Alexandria, Stromatum I, 21, 57—62, in PG 8:856; Hilary, Commentarius in Matthaeum (Commentary on Matthew) 25, 1—7, in PL 9:1053—55; Theophylactus, Enarratio in Evangelium Marci (Exposition on the Gospel of Mark), in PG 123:630.

23. Origen, Against Celsus IV, 32, in PG 11:1077; Hippolytus, Demonstratio de Christo et Antichristo (On Christ and the Antichrist) 2, 7, in PG 10:792; Augustine, Expositions on the Psalms 62, 18—19, in PL 36:759; 64, 1—2, in PL 36:773; Jerome, Letters, in PL 22:485—86; Chrysostom, Contra Judaeos et Gentiles, quod Christus Sit Deus (Against the Jews and the Gentiles that Christ is God) 6, 2—3, in PG 48:907; Chrysostom, Commentarius in Sanctum Matthaeum Evangelistam (Commentary on Matthew) 76, in PG 58:695, etc.

24. Discussed by Eisler, Iesous Basileus ou Basileusas 1:147. Many fathers give other reasons. The time scale is the decisive factor, Christians and Jews each arranging it to suit themselves. The Trophies of Damascus IV, 2, 1—3 and 8, in PO 15:262—66.

25. The view is stated by Charles Malik: “The promises made to ancient Israel were all fulfilled in Jesus Christ,” so that any subsequent development “has nothing to do either with eschatology or Christian theology. . . . Any further political expectation for the Jews would mean that there is still something which has not been already completed and finally fulfilled in Jesus Christ,” cited by David Polish, The Eternal Dissent (The Hague: Mouton, 1960), 204, Justin, Clement of Alexandria, Cyprian, Jerome, Cyril of Jerusalem, Chrysostom, etc., all say the same.

26. “Here the Christian confronts a solemn, awful question,” P. Parker, Inherit the Promise (Connecticut: Seabury, 1957), 62. Renovatio has a special meaning in this case, for God really founds another city entirely, Augustine, Civitate Dei (The City of God) 18, 48, in PL 41:574—76; Eusebius, De Vita Constantini (On the Life of Constantine) 32, 16—18, in PG 24:321; Anonymous, Vita Sancti Pachomii (Life of Saint Pachomius) I, 30, in PL 73:250; Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 67, 30—32, in PL 9:465; Nicolas Faber, In Fragmenta Sancti Hilarrii (On the Fragments of Saint Hilary) 30—31, in PL 10:908, etc.

27. Many fathers treat the paradox: Jerusalem is “the sterile mother,” Gregory the Great, In Primum Librum Regum (Commentary on the First Book of Kings) II, 15, in PL 79:84, “black but comely,” Gregory the Great, Super Cantica Canticorum Expositio (Commentary on the Song of Songs) 1, 21, in PL 79:487; 6, 3, in PL 79:526. Hippolytus, De Consummatione Mundi (On the Consummation of the World) 3, in PG 10:908; Jerome, Commentarius in Zachariam (Commentary on Zechariah) I, 1, in PL 25:1426; Prosper, Expositio Psalmorum (Commentary on the Psalms) 131, 5—10, in PL 51:379; Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 124, 2—4, in PL 9:680—81; Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 83, 3, in PG 6:672—73; Epiphanius, Adversus Haereses (Against Heresies) I, 2, 3—4, in PG 41:392—96, etc.

28. Clement of Alexandria, Stromata IV, 26, in PG 8:1381, even compares the Christian Jerusalem with the ideal cities of mythology and philosophy.

29. Augustine, De Catechizandnis Rudibus (On the Catechising of the Uninstructed) 21, 37, in PL 40:336—37; he denies the title of Christian to those who would altogether reject a physical city, Contra Donatistas (Against the Donatists) IV, 10—11, in PL 43:409—10, and Jerome reluctantly warns against separating the two cities—the earthly Jerusalem is also holy, Letters 46, 7—10, in PL 22:488—89.

30. H. Rusche, “Himmlisches Jerusalem,” in Michael Buchberger, ed., Lexikon für Theologie und Kirche, 9 vols. (Freiburg: Herder, 1960), 5:367; W. Schmauch, “Jerusalem: Theologie,” in Heinz Brunotte and Otto Weber, Evangelisches Kirchenlexikon, 4 vols. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1958), 2:260. Wolberus, Commentaria in Canticum Canticorum (Commentary on the Song of Solomon) 208, in PL 195:1209, even suggests a third Jerusalem acting as a physical link between them.

31. Michel Join-Lambert, Jerusalem (New York: Putnam, 1958), 106. During the period the great teachers “felt that their knowledge would not be complete, nor could they achieve the highest merit [virtutem]” unless they visited Jerusalem, Jerome, Letters 46, 206, in PL 22:489.

32. Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine III, 12—15; III, 33, in PG 24:600—601; Hugh W. Nibley, “The Loyalty Problem: Our Western Heritage,” Western Political Quarterly 6 (1953): 641—46.

33. W. Telfer, “Constantine’s Holy Land Plan,” Texte und Untersuchungen 63 (1957): 696—700. Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine III, 12—15; III, 33, in PG 20:600. Jerome says Palestine again became the religious capital of the world, Letters 46, 8—10, in PL 22:489; “Disquisition on the Life of Saint Cyril,” I, 6, 34, in PG 33:61. Constantine could only express these ideas “in the pagan idiom,” Andrew Alföldi, The Conversion of Constantine and Pagan Rome, tr. Harold Mattingly (Oxford: Clarendon, 1948), 112.

34. Eutychius, Annales (Annals) 464—68, in PG 111:1012, compares Constantine’s conquest of the Jewish capital with Hadrian’s. Cf. Georgios Harmatolos, Chronicon (Chronicle) IV, 181, in PG 110:612, and Augustine’s victory chant, Expositions on the Psalms 63, in PL 36:759. The church stands forever on the foundation of the destroyed temple, Leo, Sermo (Discourse) 3, 1—2, in PL 54:145, literally occupying “non urbem sed locum,” Jerome, Commentarius in Jeremiam Prophetam (Commentary on Jeremiah) IV, 29, 5—10, in PL24:802. “Jerusalem was converted to the Christian faith in the time of Constantine,” Radulfi de Diceto, “Opera Historica,” in William Stubbs, ed., The Historical Works of Master Ralph de Diceto, 2 vols. (London: Longman, 1876), 2:76.

35. Suddenly “Aelia remembered that it had once been at Jerusalem . . . the basilicas of Constantine and of Helena . . . were reviving and exalting its venerable traditions,” Louis Duchesne, Early History of the Christian Church, 3 vols. (London: Murray, 1931), 2:486.

36. Jacob de Haas, History of Palestine (New York: Macmillan, 1934), 80—81; Georgios Hermatolos, Chronicle 410—11, in PG 110:620—21; Edward Robinson, Biblical Researches in Palestine, Mount Sinai and Arabia Petraea, 3 vols. (London: Murray, 1841), 2:80.

37. Silvia visited two caves of Moses and Elijah, Job’s cave, the caves where Christ taught, was resurrected, born, ascended to heaven and (in spite of the scriptures) held the Last Supper, John W. Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine (London: Oxford University Press, 1941), 31. The footprint of Christ in a grotto under the Temple Rock “where the dead met to worship God,” Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 170, was matched by the Holy of Holies, in a cave under the same rock, C. Raymond Beazley, The Dawn of Modern Geography, 2 vols. (London: Murray, 1901), 2:150.

38. Constantine’s prime monument, the Anastasis, was “a round building on the plan of the imperial mausoleum . . . the grotto-tomb stood in the middle,” Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine, 20. There “you cannot imagine what a wailing and howling was carried on by all the people . . . day and night,” to commemorate not the death, but the resurrection of Christ! (This is the author’s translation from the original text.) Compare with John H. Bernard, tr. & ed., The Pilgrimage of S. Silvia of Aquitania to the Holy Places (London: Palestine Pilgrims’ Text Society, 1891), 68, p. 65 (cf. p. 126); 57, p. 48 (cf. p. 112). Jerome explains this with the quotation: “Where the body is, thither will the eagles be gathered together,” cited in E. S. Duckett, Wandering Saints of the Early Middle Ages (New York: Norton, 1959), 296.

39. Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 108—11.

40. Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine, 160; nine-tenths of Palestine’s churches were built then.

41. For the economic history, Avi-Yonah, “The Economics of Byzantine Palestine,” Israel Exploration Journal 8 (1958): 38—51. Queen Helen, see Josephus, Antiquities XX, 2, 4; Eusebius, HE II, 12, in PG 20:165, was later claimed by the Christians, Flavius Lucius Dexter, Chronicon (Chronicle), in PL 31:201; Jacob Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals (New York: Philosophical Library, 1953), 262.

42. Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 129, 134—40; Duchesne, Early History of the Christian Church 3:132—34, 140—43. The Lady Silvia found distinguished dames of her acquaintance inhabiting cells in Palestine, Bernard, The Pilgrimage of S. Silvia of Aquitania to the Holy Places 40, p. 23—24 (cf. 90—91); 54—55, p. 42—45 (cf. 107—9).

43. Avi-Yonah, “The Economics of Byzantine Palestine,” 41, 47—51. “A countless host of priests and monks” came hither, “partly because of the sanctity of the two places, partly because of the fame of Jerome, and partly to enjoy the charity of rich and noble matrons,” Marius Mercatius, Fides Rufini Aquileiensis (The Faith of Rufinus of Aquileia) preface, in PL 48:239. Anonymous, De Locis Sanctis (On the Holy Places) 11, in PG 133:985, puts the number of religious establishments in Jerusalem at 365.

44. Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine, 7—8; Sozomen, HE II, 26, in PG 67:26; Avi-Yonah, “The Economics of Byzantine Palestine,” 41—42, 49.

45. The grand scale rioting began at the dedication of Constantine’s church, Cambridge Medieval History, 8 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1926), 1:128, and culminated in the massacre at the Holy Sepulchre in 451 A.A. For a description, Marius Mercatius, The Faith of Rufinus of Aquileia 12, in PL 48:240; “Disquisition on the Life of Saint Cyril,” I, in PG 33:63—64.

46. Cambridge Medieval History 2:285, 290; De Haas, History of Palestine, 116.

47. William of Tyre, Historia Rerum in Partibus Transmarinis Gestarum (History of Overseas Territories) I, 2, in PL 201:214—15.

48. Lawrence Edward Browne, Eclipse of Christianity in Asia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1933), 25; de Haas, History of Palestine, 117. Adrian Fortescue, “Jerusalem,” in Charles G. Herberman, ed., The Catholic Encyclopedia, 16 vols. (New York: Appleton, 1910), 8:359—60, charges treason.

49. Georgios Harmatolos, Chronicle 4, 22, in PG 110:833, treats the breaking of this oath to the Jews as a crime, formally recognized as such by the Coptic Church. Cf. de Haas, History of Palestine, 120.

50. Omar, “after a lapse of six centuries,” revived the essential Jewish tradition of Jerusalem, Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 169. On Sophronius and the Christian claims, Charles Diehl and Georges Margais, Le monde orientale de 395 à 1081, in Louis Lévéque, ed., Histoire du moyen age, 2 vols. (Paris: Les Presses Universitaire de France, 1936), 1:154—55.

51. Jerome, Letters 46, 8—10, in PL 22:489; Eusebius, HE VI, 2, in PG 20:541—44; Sulpicius Severus, Chronicle 2, 31, in PL 20:147; Basset, “Le Synaxaire arabe jacobite,” in PO 16:303—5.

52. F. Dölger, in Relazioni 3:92. Among those discouraging pilgrimages are Origen, Athanasius, Hilary, Gregory of Nyssa, Jerome, Cedrenus, Sulpicius Severus, Bede, Theodoret, William of Malmesbury, Geoffrey of Vendome, Gilles of Paris, the Russian Daniel, Rupert, and Thomas a Kempis. Note 54 below.

53. Dölger, in Relazioni 3:88—93. They were looking for “une sorte de paradis perdu,” R. Roussel, Les pélerinages (Paris: Payot, 1954), 13. Pilgrimage and monastic life “met l’homme en communication directe avec Dieu,” Diehl, Le monde orientale 3:101. They would kiss the holy objects “like thirsty people,” Jerome, Letters 46 and 47, in PL 22:484—93.

54. “In the whole of patristic literature there is not one homily or other exhortation . . . to undertake pilgrimages,” B. Koetting, Peregrinatio Religiosa (Münster: Regensberg, 1950), 42. It was a popular vote of no-confidence in the church, Adolf von Harnack, Das Mönchtum (Giessen: Kicker, 1895). “If you really believed, you would not have to visit these places to reassure yourselves,” says Gregorius Nyssenus (Gregory of Nyssa), Epistolae (Letters) 2, in PG 46:1013.

55. Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 14—15; Roussel, Les pélerinages, 48—50. The will to locate and materialize everything is paramount: “This is the tomb of Moses, in spite of the fact that the Scriptures say that no man knows his tomb,” Bernard, The Pilgrimage of S. Silvia of Aquitania to the Holy Places, 42, p. 27 (cf. 94). Ricoldus put a live baby into the Holy Crib so he and other pilgrims could worship it, Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 16.

56. It was believed that Jerusalem was actually a bit of heaven, Harnack, History of Dogma 6:8; Bernardi, Itinerarium in Loca Sancta (Journey to the Holy Places) 10—16, in PL 121:572—73; Bede, Historia Ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) III, 16—17, in PL 95:258. At Jerusalem the most important “letters from heaven” descended, Mathew Paris, Chronica Majora, 7 vols. (London: Longman, 1872), 2:462—64; Maximilian Bittner, Der vom Himmel gefallene Brief Christi in seinen morgenländischen Versionen und Rezensionen, in Denkschriften der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien, Philosophisch-historische Klasse, 51 (1906): 71.

57. Bernardi, Itinerarium in Local Sancta (Journey to the Holy Places) 10—16, in PL 121:572—73; Georgios Harmatolos, Chronicle 139—40, in PG 110:664; Cassiodorus, Commentary on the Psalms 67, 35—38, in PL 70:474; Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 17.

58. Stewart Perowne, “The Site of the Holy Sepulchre,” Listener 68 (1962): 351—53; F. M. Abel, “Jérusalem,” in DACL, 7:2311. It was the spot of the “ultima Domini vestigia,” Bede, Ecclesiastical History III, 16—17, in PL 95:257.

59. A very moving description in Bede, Ecclesiastical History III, 17—18, in PL 95:258. The great central shrine was roofless in order to maintain contact with heaven, Bernardi, Journey to the Holy Places 10—12, in PL 121:572.

60. Augustine, Sermones (Sermons) 117, 6—7, in PL 38:660. Cf. Gregory of Tours, Miraculorum de Liber Gloria Martyrum I, 5, in PL 71:709.

61. M. Daniel-Rops, L’église de la cathedrale et de la croisade, 542. The four columns of the Holy of Holies were claimed by Mecca, Paris, Chronica Majora 6:349, Venice; John Evelyn, Diary and Correspondence of John Evelyn, 4 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), 2:438; and Rome, ibid., 246, where they stood on the very soil of Jerusalem, sent to Rome by St. Helen herself, ibid., 272—73, n. 1. Cf. John the Deacon, Liber de Ecclesia Lateranensi (On the Lateran Church) 1—4, in PL 194:1547—48. In the eighth century Syncellus identifies Constantinople with Jerusalem in the most literal sense, Paul Alexander, “The Strength of Empire and Capital as Seen through Byzantine Eyes,” Speculum 37 (1962): 346—47; the chief church of Spain was called simply “Jerusalem,” Petrus Braida, Dissertatio in Sanctum Nicetam (Disquisition on Saint Nicetas) 5, in PL 52:952. The Jerusalem in Rome, William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum 1, 202; 3, 172, like the Jerusalem Chamber in Westminster, Phillip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 vols. (London: Harper, 1905), 1:748—49, were mystically identified with Jerusalem. The Temple in London was a reproduction of Solomon’s Temple, “built round in imitation of this,” Samuel Purchas, His Pilgrimes 8:193; Walter Besant, Mediaeval London, 2 vols. (London: Black, 1906), 2:276—77. The same idea was followed in London’s St. Sepulchre, J. C. Dickinson, Monastic Life in Medieval England (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1962), 82.

62. Walsingham, “The Nazareth of England,” gave the pilgrim “the same spiritual privileges as would the journey to Palestine,” Roussel, Les Pélerinages, 94. On the rule of distance, Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 16; Titus Tobler, Dr. Titus Toblers zwei Bücher Topographie von Jerusalem und seinen Umgebungen, 2 vols. (Berlin: Reimer, 1853—54), 1:540.

63. Giselbert, Historia Hierosolymitana (History of Jerusalem) IV, 35—38, in PL 166:555. It is “quasi alterum coelum,” Peter of Blois, De Hierosolymitana Peregrinatione (On the Pilgrimage to Jerusalem), in PL 207:1070, “a star in some other heaven,” Cassiodorus, Commentary on the Psalms 86—87, in PL 70:622, an “alter paradisus delicarum,” says Urban in Robert Manachus, Historia Hierosolymitana (History of Jerusalem) I, 1, in PL 155:672.

64. On the political issues, Aziz Atiya, Crusade, Commerce, and Culture (Mass.: Smith, 1969), 36; Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine, 162—63.

65. Sangallensis Monachus, De Gestis Beati Carolil Magni II, 11, in PL 98:1396—98; Anonymous, Annales Veteres Francorum, in PL 98:1427—28. Paris, Chronica Majora 1:368; Louis Halphen, Charlemagne and the Carolingian Empire, tr. Giselle de Nie (New York: North-Holland, 1977), 93—94; Cambridge Medieval History2:620—21, 704—5.

66. Roussel, Les pélerinages, 14; Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 176.

67. Benedict Stolz, “The Benedictines in the Holy Land,” Christian News from Israel 11 (1960): 12.

68. A. Philipsborn, “Les premiers hôpitaux au moyen age (orient et occident),” Nouvelle Clio 6 (1955): 144—46. In the history of hospitals in general “le role de Jerusalem est capital,” ibid., 160.

69. Paul Heinisch, History of the Old Testament (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1952), 418. Vespasian continued the temple tax for the pagan temple, and Theodosius diverted it into the imperial treasury, as did the German Emperors, Cambridge Medieval History 7:646—47.

70. In 883 and 887 King Alfred sent the monks back to Jerusalem loaded with gifts, Simeon of Durham, Historia Regum, in Thomas Arnold, ed., Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, 2 vols. (London: Longman, 1882), 2:62; and in 889 following the example of Charlemagne imposed a regular Jerusalem tax, collected by the clergy, Richard of Cirencester, Speculum Historiale de Gestis Regum Angliae (London: Longman, Roberts & Green, 1863—69), 2:41. Circa A.D. 900 “monks used to come annually to Rouen to collect alms” for Jerusalem. Stolz, “The Benedictines in the Holy Land,” 12, citing Ralph Glaber. The Jerusalem (later Saladin) tax became the foundation of Papal and national taxing policy in the Middle Ages, Ibsen’s review of A. Gottlob, Die päpstlische Kreuzzugsstreuen des 13. Jahrhunderts (Heiligenstadt: Cordier, 1892), Historische Zeitschrift 72 (1894): 315. This too has an old Jewish background, Cicero, Pro Flacco 28 (66—69).

71. Charles Beazley, The Dawn of Modern Geography, 3 vols. (London: Frowde, 1905), 2:120—23; René Grousset, Histoire des croisades et du Royaume Franc de Jerusalem, 3 vols. (Paris: Librarie Plan, 1934), 1:lviii.

72. Beazley, Modern Geography 2:126, 148—49, 107; Charles Homer Haskins, Norman Institutions (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1918), 266—67; Richard of Cirencester (New York: Ungar, 1960), 2:178—79, 252, 283; Giraldus, Chronicon 3:397—98 (St. David of Wales); Kristnisaga 13:2; 17:5; Are, Islendinga-boc 10:14; Orvar-Odds Saga 33:8; 34:1.

73. Beazley, Modern Geography 2:155—61, 165, 167, 125, 215, 405.

74. Beazley, Modern Geography 2:125; Ralph Glaber, Chronicon 4, 6, in PL 142:680—82; Purchas, His Pilgrimes 8:18; on mass pilgrimages, Beazley, Modern Geography 2:129—30.

75. Quote is from Beazley, Modern Geography 2:127. Gregory VII and the Emperor Michael VII were already thinking of a Crusade in 1073, G. Ostrogorsky, “The Byzantine Emperor and the Hierarchical World Order,” Slavonic and East European Review 35 (1956): 14. On Robert le Frison, L. Henri Pirenne, Bibliographie de l’histoire de Belgique (Bruxelles: Lamertin, 1931) 1:96—100.

76. The Crusaders are God’s elect, true Israel, the Chosen People, Fulcher, Historia Hierosolymitana (History of Jerusalem) 39, 4, in PL 155:891; Godfrey was the new Moses, his advent announced (literally) on Sinai, Alberic, Historia Hierosolymitana (History of Jerusalem) VI, 33—35, in PL 166:554; his successor is designated in his epitaph as “Rex Baldwinus Judas alter Machabeus,” Purchas, His Pilgrimes 8:187; the first Crusaders are “the Princes of Judah bringing comfort to Jerusalem,” Guibert, Gesta Dei per Francos (Acts of God through the Franks) VIII, 4, in PL 156:806—8, defending her “in the midst of the Gentiles,” ibid., in PL 156:810. “You are now the Children of Israel,” cries Urban II, “fight better than the ancient Israelites for Your Jerusalem,” Oswald J. Reichel, The See of Rome in the Middle Ages(London: Longmans, Green, 1870), 320.

77. “Through the Crusades . . . the primitive Christian institutions were restored; the sacred places . . . led it to the Christ of the Gospels,” Harnack, History of Dogma6:9. Rodulfus Glaber, Historia (History) 3, 4, in PL 142:651: “Rejecta vestustate, passim candidam ecclesiarum vestem indueret.” Against the will of the leaders, the masses insisted on marching straight to Jerusalem, William of Tyre, History of Overseas Territories VII, 2, in PL 201:378—79. “Sehnsucht nach Freiheit” was the motive, Martin Grabmann, Die Geschichte der scholastischen Methode, 2 vols. (Graz: Akademische Druck und Verlagsanstalt, 1957), 1:258; and Urban’s speech lays strong emphasis on the escape motif, Fulcher, History of Jerusalem 1, 2, in PL 155:830—32.

78. Adolf Waas, “Der heilige Krieg,” Welt als Geschichte 19 (1959): 215—16.

79. Thus Geoffrey, though anxious to avoid bloodshed, was “bound to avenge the insult [injuriam] to his Lord,” Godefridus Rex, Concio ad Milites Christianos (Call to Christian Soldiers), in PL 155:391, and so, seeking “neither Tower, nor Gold, nor Spoile, but revenge . . . clave human bodies from the head to the raines,” Purchas, His Pilgrimes 7:449—50. Pope and Sultan exchange formal challenges and insults in the best epic and chivalric manner, John of Whethamstede, Registra Quorundam Abbatum Monasterius St. Albanus (London: Longman, 1872—73) 11:270—71.

80. The Crusaders adopted the epic literary idiom, and dramatized themselves as the Knights of the Round Table, Grousset, Histoire des croisades 3:731. Later ages saw the Crusades in an epic setting, as Torqvato Tasso, Gerusalemme Liberata 1:1, 12, 21, 23; 4:7; 6, 9, etc.

81. Franz Altheim, Gesicht vom Abend und Morgen (Frankfurt: Fischer Bücherei, 1955), 148—50. The close ties with central Asia are significant, Éduard Perrov, Le moyen age, in Maurice Crouzet, ed., Histoire genérale de civilisations, 7 vols. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1957), 3:341; Grousset, Histoire des croisades 3:746.

82. “Earlier crusades were armed migrations, not military invasions,” Brooks Adams, The Law of Civilization and Decay (New York: Macmillan, 1896, 1910), 124.

83. C. Dawson, Dynamics of World History, 137; T. B. L. Webster, From Mycenae to Homer (London: Methuen, 1958), 59—61, 106. Jerome describes the fall of Rome both in terms of Jerusalem and of Troy, Grant Showerman, Eternal Rome (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1925), 337—38.

84. Laetitia Boehm, “‘Gesta Dei per Francos’ oder ‘Gesta Francorum?'” Saeculum 8 (1957): 44—45; Hugh W. Nibley, “The Hierocentric State,” Western Political Quarterly 4 (1951): 226—53, and “The Unsolved Loyalty Problem: Our Western Heritage,” Western Political Quarterly 6 (1953): 641—46. Christianity borrowed from paganism its mystique of victory, Oswald J. Reichel, The See of Rome in the Middle Ages (London: Longmans, Green, 1870), 344—45.

85. Waas, “Der heilige Krieg,” 212—15, demonstrates at length that the Moslems took over the idea from the Christians, and not the other way around. Cf. Atiya, Crusade, Commerce, and Culture, 130—37.

86. William of Tyre, History of Overseas Territories IX, 16, in PL 201:448; XI, 11—13, in PL 201:497—99; Alberic, History of Jerusalem VII, 63—67, in PL 166:602—3; W. Ohnsorge, “Byzanz und das Abendland im 9. u. 10. Jahrhundert. Eine Zusammenfassung,” Nouvelle Clio 5 (1954): 447—49; Boehm, “Gesta Dei,” 44—46; D. M. Nicol, “Byzantium and the Papacy in the Eleventh Century,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History 13 (1962): 18; Charles Brand, “The Byzantines and Saladin, 1185—1192; Opponents of the Third Crusade,” Speculum 37 (1962): 179. On the very day of Charlemagne’s coronation the monks of St. Sabas (who had brought him the keys and banner of Jerusalem) fought a pitched battle with the Benedictines of Bethlehem whose patron was Leo III, Stolz, “The Benedictines in the Holy Land,” 12—13.

87. Cambridge Medieval History 5:303; Steven Runciman, “The Crown of Jerusalem,” Palestine Exploration Quarterly 92 (1960): 15; Angelo S. Rappoport, History of Palestine (London: Allen & Unwin, 1931), 282—85.

88. Eugéne de Roziere, ed., Cartulaire du Saint Sépulcre 1, in PL 155:1106. Most royalty in time claimed the crown of Jerusalem, Runciman, “The Crown of Jerusalem,” 8—9. When the patriarch of Jerusalem, the two grand masters, the pope, and the emperor met at Verona to discuss Jerusalem, an envoy of Saladin (who “claimed Jerusalem as his by hereditary right from Sara”) Ishmael was present with a letter to “his most victorious brother,” the Pope, Horace Mann, The Lives of the Popes in the Middle Ages, 18 vols. (London: Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1925), 10:255—56.

89. The claims of the Hospitalers, back to the Maccabees, are presented by an anonymous writer, De Primordiis et Inventione Sacrae Religionis Ierosolymorum, in PL 155:1097—1104; the claims of the Templars on Solomon’s Temple are apparent from St. Bernard’s PL 182:927—28; the rapacity and independence of the orders from John of Salisbury, Epistolae (Letters), 1, 140, in PL 199.

90. So Baldric, Historia Hierosolymitana IV, in PL 166:1152. This is brought out in the exchange of letters between the pope and the Sultan in 1457, John of Whethamstede, Registra Quorundam Abbatum Monasterius St. Albanus 1:270.

91. Grousset, Histoire des croisades 2:319, 608, 693, 745—48; 3:29, 359, 393, 650; cf. Philippe de Méziére’s verdict, cited in Atiya, Crusade, Commerce and Culture, 110—11; D. M. Bell, Le songe du vieil pélerin, 2 vols. (London: Cambridge University Press, 1955), 180—90: he calls for peace with the Moslem world.

92. Waas, “Der heilige Kreig,” 217—18. Defeat made the Christians vulnerable to their own stock argument against the Jews, Raisin, Gentile Reactions, 505; Paris, Chronica Majora 4:345—46, says the catastrophe of 1244 was the literal fulfillment of Mark 13:2.

93. G. Hegel, Philosophy of History (New York & London: Cooperative Publication Society, 1900), 393, 395; Grousset, Histoire des croisades 1:163—64; Boehm, “Gesta Dei,” 45, 47; Waas, “Der heilige Kreig,” 218, 224.

94. Paetow, The Crusades, 209—20; F. Mourret, Précis d’histoire de l’église 2:9. The crusade against the Albigensians was viewed as a mystic crusade to Jerusalem, Pierre des Vaux-de Cernay, Histoire albigéoise (Paris: Vrin, 1951), 42.

95. Though St. Francis is credited with the gentler new method of preaching instead of fighting, Waas, “Der heilige Krieg,” 221, the legend is that he challenged Saladin’s religious entourage to a formal ordeal by fire in the best feudal manner, Ernest Raymond, In the Steps of St. Francis (New York: Kinsey, 1939), 225—26. And certainly the Franciscans were tough and aggressive, as appears in many reports in Purchas, His Pilgrimes 8:181—82, 300, 302—3; 9:466, 478—80. Indeed they considered their order to be the New Jerusalem, M. R. James, Apocalypse in Art, 67.

96. Charles VIII, Ranke, History of the Latin and Teutonic Nations (London: Bell, 1909), 27, 82; Alfonso and Joan I, Elaine Sanceau, The Perfect Prince, 107, 243, 412; Albuquerque and Sebastian, K. G. Jayne, Vasco da Gama, 101, 279. Such schemes are already apparent in the 4th crusade and the career of St. Louis, and still earlier in Nicephorus Phocas fantastic letter of 964 to the court of Baghdad. Grousset, Histoire des croisades 1:12.

97. Salvador de Madariaga, Christopher Columbus (New York: Macmillan, 1940), 18, 106, 165, 359—61, 404; Samuel Elliot Morison, Admiral of the Ocean Sea(Boston: Little, Brown, 1942), 5, 45—46, 97, 304, 668.

98. Purchas, His Pilgrimes 9:497; Albert Nathaniel Williams, The Holy City (New York: Deull, Slon & Pierce, 1954), 353—59; Jayne, Vasco da Gama, 284. The Reformation itself was hailed “as the first indication of the advent of the Messianic age,” L. I. Newman, Jewish Influence on Christian Reform Movements (New York: Columbia University Press, 1925) 1:628, the early catharist preoccupation with Jerusalem being of Cabbalistic origin, 1:175.

99. J. Bowsma, Concordia Mundi, 16—17, 178. On Humanist interest in Jerusalem, Boehm, “Gesta Dei,” 51—53, 59.

100. Though “d’acharnes adversaires des pélerinages,” they still imitated them in their old Hebrew aspect, Roussel, Les pélerinages, 107. Luther can conceive of “honest” pilgrimages of the old type, Works 31:199; Werke 1:598; and is impressed by the unique holiness of Jerusalem, Works 2:344, 378; Werke 42:507, 533. Calvin objects primarily to the physical impossibility of gathering the saints at Jerusalem, John Calvin, Commentaries on the Twelve Minor Prophets, tr. John Owen, 5 vols. (Grand Rapids: Eerdman, 1950), 5:228.

101. Luther, Works 2:99—100, 342, 360—61; 3:77; 13:34—35, 269, 339; 14:20, 326—27; 21:104; 23:120—21, 369; 32:162—64; 35:291—92, 303—5, 329—30; Werke 42:333, 506—7, 519—20; 42:603; 8:32, 33; 41:127—28, 221—22; 5:57—58; 32:386; 33:186, 598—99; 8:60—61; John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of Psalms, tr. James Anderson, 5 vols. (Grand Rapids: Eerdman, 1949), 2:226.

102. As is apparent from Luther, Works 14:6, 9, 19; 24:169—71, 237, 262; 31:198; Werke 1:31, 225—26, 228—29, 238; 45:615—17, 678, 701; 1:597—98; Calvin, Minor Prophets 5:228.

103. Luther, Works 2:361—62; Werke 42:520; C. Henry Smith, Smith’s Story of the Mennonites (Kansas: Mennonite Publication Office, 1950), 282; G. H. Williams, Spiritual and Anabaptist Writers (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1957), 23, 29, 150, 255—60.

104. John Evelyn, Diary 5:177—78; George Fox, The Journal of George Fox, ed. Norman Penney, 2 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1911), 2:90, 130—32, 170—72, 338, 383, 481.

105. Such were Jung-Stilling’s movement, Ernst Benz, “Ost und West in der christlicher Geschichtsanschauung,” Welt als Geschichte 1 (1955): 503—13, and the followers of Christian Offmann and Johann Lange, the Jerusalem Friends or Templers, Smith, Smith’s Story of the Mennonites, 282. Sir Henry Finch’s book, for which James I imprisoned him, calling for the Jews to return to Jerusalem and take “complete temporal dominion over the whole world,” had considerable influence for over 300 years, Christopher Sykes, Two Studies in Virtue (New York: Knopf, 1953), 149—50.

106. Though the Quakers insisted that “wee . . . cannot owne noe other neither outwarde Jerusalem,” Fox, The Journal of George Fox 2:131, yet they risked life and limb to reach the physical Jerusalem, 2:338, 383, 481; W. C. Braithwaite, The Beginnings of Quakerism (London: Macmillan, 1912), 418—19. Purchas asserts that “to ascribe sanctitie to the place is Jewish,” His Pilgrimes 8:19, yet he was a pilgrim; and others who poured contempt on the holy places and rites were transported by the sight of the former, 10:444, 487; Braithwaite, The Beginnings of Quakerism, 424. So Robinson declared it un-Christian to heed “particular times and places,” Edward Robinson, Biblical Researches in Palestine 2:72, yet was overwhelmed by the “coincidence of time, place and number” when twelve American missionaries met in a “large upper room” in Jerusalem, 1:335; and Schaff, who abhorred the superstitious “mummery” of the pilgrimage, immersed himself ten times in the Jordan and “almost imagined I was miraculously delivered from rheumatism,” David Schley Schaff, Life of Phillip Schaff (New York: Scribner, 1897), 311.

107. Both attitudes are seen in William Thomson, The Land and the Book (New York: Harper, 1882), 625—26.

108. F. Bassan, Chateaubriand et la terre saints (1959) 209, 247. All the French travelers to Jerusalem between 1800 and 1850 “represent un oriente de fantaise,” according to Bassan, who lists 67 of them, ibid., 35.

109. Williams, The Holy City, 365. “In 1835 the Church Missions to the Jews” set up in Jerusalem, Ruth Rouse and Stephen Charles Neill, eds., Histoire of the Ecumenical Movement (Philadelphia: Westminister, 1954), 289. E. Krüger, “L’effort missionaire américain dans le proche orient,” Revue d’histoire et de philosophie religieuses 40 (1960): 278—84. Robinson, Palestine 1:327—28, 332—35; Arnold Toynbee, A Study of History 9:101—3; K. S. Latourette, Nineteenth Century Outside Europe, 398.

110. This is consistently overlooked by historians, but clearly stated by Gladstone, Correspondence of Church and Religion of William Edwart Gladstone, 2 vols. (New York: Macmillan, 1910), 1:243, and Bunsen.

111. John Henry Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua (London: Longman, Green, 1908), 128—38, 201.

112. Fortescue, “Jerusalem,” 368—70. F. Mourret, Précis d’histoire de l’église 3:269: these moves “counterbalance as much as possible the influence of the Russian schismatics and the German Protestants.”

113. Paul Goodman, Moses Montefiore (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1925), 62, 64—67.

114. T. A. B. Corley, Democratic Despot (London: Barris & Rockliff, 1961), 148—49. G. Marchal, Guerre de Crimée, 2—5, showing that the war was actually fought about the Holy Places.

115. Eugénie’s idealist plan for uniting the crowned heads of Europe in a common undertaking to rebuild the Holy Sepulchre found no takers, Corley, Democratic Despot, 267. “The French government saw in the pilgrimages a force to be utilized in the penetration of the Orient,” and even the anti-clerical parties supported them accordingly, Mourret, Précis d’histoire de l’église 3:379. It was to meet the growing power of France and Russia (which established a Jerusalem Bishopric in 1858) that the Protestants of England and Germany were appealed to for support “in the name of national interest and prestige,” De Haas, History of Palestine, 414, 416; cf. Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 311—13.

116. Wilhelm II, My Memoirs (London: Cassell, 1922), 210.

117. Ibid., 208.

118. In his childhood a favorite toy was “a wooden model of Jerusalem called ‘Heavenly Jerusalem,’ with removable domes,” Wilhelm II, My Early Life (New York: Doran, 1926), 40. Herzl hailed him in 1898 as “an emperor of peace . . . making a great entry into this eternal city,” Theodor Herzl, The Complete Diaries of Theodor Herzl, ed. Raphael Patai, tr. Harry Zohn, 5 vols. (New York: Yoseloff, 1960), 2:741, a white charger and his spiritual entourage dreamed of converting the Jews, 2:759; the arrogance of his staff thwarted his Zionist intentions, Israel Cohen, Theodor Herzl (New York: Yoseloff, 1959), 195—96, 199, 201.

119. Rappoport, History of Palestine, 324—25.

120. M. Crouzet, L’époque contemporaine, 7 vols. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1959), 7:605; T. Canaan, “Two Documents on the Surrender of Jerusalem,” Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society 10 (1930): 29, 31; the Turks surrendered Jerusalem “for the sole purpose of protecting the holy places.”

121. Francis John McConnell, By the Way: An Autobiography (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1952), 193—95. The Jerusalem meeting of 1928 “recall[ed] not inaptly the period of the great Oecumenical Councils,” J. Wand, in Edward Eyre, ed., European Civilization, 7 vols. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1934—39), 6:1561, and gave “the impetus for the creation of the international Committee on the Christian Approach to the Jews,” Rouse & Neil, Histoire of the Ecumenical Movement, 369. Such gatherings as the YMCA International Prayer Week at Jerusalem in 1951, ibid., 633, the Grand Mufti’s tea in 1955, Charles Smyth, Cyril Forster Garbett(London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1959), 489—90 and the World Conference of Pentecostal Organizations in 1960, Christian News from Israel 11 (1960):12—14, are expressive of the idea.

122. The astonishing variety, set forth by John of Wurzburg, Descriptio Terrae Sanctae (Description of the Holy Land) 12—13, in PL 155:1088, still survives, Join-Lambert, Jerusalem, 137. “American Jesuits from Baghdad, Presbyterian missionaries grouped around the American University of Beirut, multiplied schools and attracted students by the assurance of employment in Yankee enterprise,” says a resentful French observer, Crouzet, L’époque contemporaine 7:619. Today the Benedictine Order “seeks recruits in all countries . . . particularly in the United States,” for the work in Jerusalem, Stolz, “The Benedictines in the Holy Land,” 21.

123. In 1948 the Vatican appealed for “the growth of Jerusalem as a universal Christian religious, cultural and educational center,” James McDonald, My Mission in Israel (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1951), 210—11. The mixture of cultural with religious interest is apparent in the pilgrimages of the Holy Year 1950, the Baptist pilgrimage of 2,500 members in 1955 and “the arrival of . . . ever increasing number[s] of interdenominational, . . . [and] studygroups,” Father Jean-Roger, “Christian Travel in Israel,” Christian News from Israel 10 (1960): 21—22. The scholarly emphasis is seen in the founding of the auxiliary residence of the Pontifical Biblical Institute at Jerusalem in 1925, and amusingly demonstrated by the impeccable good taste of Cyril Forster Garbett, Bishop of York, Smyth, Cyril Forster Garbett, 493—94, 497, 501. Waas, “Der heilige Krieg,” 211, 224, notes that World Wars I and II both began as Crusades but quickly dropped the allusion.

124. Wilhelm de Vries, “Die Entstehung der Patriarchate des Ostens und ihr Verhältnis zur päpstlichen Vellgewalt,” Scholastik 37 (1962): 368—69.

125. Polish, Eternal Dissent, 203—12. By the “dramatic entry of Israel . . . the Christian tradition in the Holy Land has been violently disrupted,” says Bishop E. M. E. Blyth, who takes comfort in the thought that Israel is “fulfilling Scripture in many ways, even unconsciously,” E. M. E. Blyth, “The Patriarchate of Jerusalem,” Modern Churchman, n.s. 5 (1961—62): 231. Marcel Simon, Versus Israel (Paris: De Boccard, 1948), 118—20, is genuinely alarmed; Eyre, European Civilization, 6:854, and Williams, The Holy City, 348, are nonplussed.

126. In 1838 Shaftesbury got Palmerston to appoint a British viceconsul in Jerusalem charged with “protection of the Jews generally,” and in 1840 they sought cooperation with Russian Decabrist, Polish Liberationists, and French statesmen as part of a widespread liberation movement, Christopher Sykes, Two Studies in Virtue (New York: Knopf, 1953), 151. Metternich also joined, Goodman, Moses Montefiore, 65. The Anglo-Lutheran Bishopric of the following year was denounced by Newman as an implicit concession to the Jews in Palestine, which it was, Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua, 128, 130, 132, 135, 138, 201. When the Grand Duke Frederick of Baden, who “evinced a deep interest in Zionism,” arranged for Herzl’s audience with the Kaiser, Zionism became “a question with which European politics must reckon,” Max Margolis and Alexander Marx, History of the Jewish People (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1927), 708. Even the Russian government was sympathetic, Herzl, Diaries 1:373.

127. Joseph Sittler, “The Abiding Concern of the Church for the Jewish People,” Ecumenical Review 7 (1955): 221—23; cf. Herzl, Diaries 4:1593—94, 1603.

128. So William F. Albright, “Israel—Prophetic Vision and Historical Fulfillment,” in Moshe Davis, ed., Israel: Its Role in Civilization (New York: Harper, 1956), 37. Chateaubriand found the Jewish community in Jerusalem to be the one wholly admirable and miraculous phenomenon in the city, Bassan, Chateaubriand et la terre saints, 161; Journal, 177—78.

129. Polish, Eternal Dissent, 203—12, quoting Charles Malik, 205, and the World Council of Churches, 1948: “The continued existence of a Jewish people which does not acknowledge Christ, is a divine mystery.” It is “a mystery and a wonderful phenomenon,” says Berdyaev, Meaning of History (London: Centenary, 1936), 50, refuting “the materialistic and positivistic criterion” of history, as it does Mr. Toynbee’s theory of history, to his annoyance, Poish, Eternal Dissent, 209. See note 125 above.

130. The rivalry is expressed in many of the fathers, and in the determined attempts of the papacy to stop the pilgrimages to Jerusalem, Mähl, “Jerusalem in mittelalterlicher Sicht,” 151; James Wallace, Fundamentals of Christian Statesmanship (New York: Revell, 1939), 333—35; Cambridge Medieval History 1:174—75; Luc Compain, Étude sur Geoffroi de Vendôme (Paris: Bouillon, 1891), 67.

131. “I [consider] only Rome an opponent [because] . . . only Roman Catholicism is as oecumenical as Judaism,” Herzl, Diaries 3:889, cf. 1:345, 353; 4:1603. On the Roman position, Joseph Samuel Bloch, My Reminiscences (Vienna: Löwit, 1923), 161—62; James G. McDonald, My Mission in Israel: 1948—51 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1951), 35, 205—7; Esco Foundation for Palestine, Palestine (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1947) 1:277. During the U.N. debate of 1949 religious considerations were foremost, Survey of International Affairs 5 (1939—46): 307; Williams, The Holy City, 403.

132. How easy it is to create holy places is seen in the designation by the Husseini family late in the 19th century of “the traditional site of Moses’ tomb” in Jerusalem, “Miscellany: This Year in Jersualem,” Palestine Review 52 (1938): 875.

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