#frankly if there is one thing this book is missing its embarrassment equality

[laurents-secret-diary]

mocking Damen with "all you do is moan 'oh laurenttt you feel sooo gooood laurenttt'. embarrassing" after the great "reveal" was iconic but Damen should have gotten more mileage out of "you fuck like a virgin". There is no um actually-ing it out of that one

[hobidreams]

october 1865.

you never thought you would smile like this again, but here you are. and here he is, by your side.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluffy fluff words: 5k 😳 contains: historical au, chuseok date!, eunuch kim!, so much cuteness, guest appearances hehe

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 13. start from the beginning?

“How do I look, mom?”

Standing before the mirror, you nervously smooth the delicate sash of the pink hanbok for the hundredth time, careful not to lean down too much and dislocate the floral ornament carefully pinned in your hair. There have been doves fluttering in your stomach the entire afternoon; you don’t know if you tied this correctly or if your hair is braided right, and you can’t ask any of your nearby neighbours for fear of discovery that your plans are different than theirs tonight. Mother would know exactly what to do and what to say to make you feel at ease. But want you want most is for her to see you all grown up like this. Finally able to properly wear the outfit you coveted for so long, and hold your head high in it too. You think she’d be proud.

You manage a smile as you run your fingertips along the edge of the ornament, a gift from mother on your twelfth birthday. It’s almost been a year since her passing, and you still miss her more than anything. But you also know now that the best way to honor her is to be happy, and to carry on her work, her legacy. So far, you’ve begrudgingly won a few scraps of respect from the male physicians, and it’s a start.

“I hope you’re doing well up there,” you say, letting your gaze drift out the window to the beaming Chuseok moon, hoping the wind might take your words and your love all the way to her.

“Hey. Are you ready?”

You are grateful that the door is closed because the way you snap to attention is frankly embarrassing.

"Yes, just a moment, seja-jeonha!" you say in a nervous half-whisper, half-exclamation as you allow yourself one last glimpse at the mirror. This is going to be fine. You're going to be relaxed and have a good time, even if you are sneaking out of the palace with arguably the second most important person in the country.

Putting on a smile that hopefully looks effortless, you pull open the door and practically gasp out loud at the sight of him.

It's perhaps the first time you've seen the prince out of the traditional royal robes. It's an excellent disguise -- the clothes of a young yangban lord, done in a deep-dyed scarlet that contrasts his usual navy. A cinched belt fastens the coat deftly, juxtaposed against the dragging, silky sleeves beside it, making him seem somehow more elegant in the way he holds himself. Completing the look is the gat that sits atop his head, its wide-brim tilted low so it covers enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized, at least not to anyone who spared him a passing glance (not that they would know his face to begin with). The gat strap hangs low in front of his chest, the intricate beading betraying just how truly expensive this hat is. He is, in short, unfairly, unfathomably handsome.

You are forever grateful that you chose to dress up; if nothing else, at least you will look suitable standing next to him, at least for a night.

If Yoongi thinks anything of your outfit, he covers it with a slight cough, his cheeks faintly reddened from the cold. “Good. Come on. We have to be quick.”

You nod, following him out into the night air.

With swift steps and strategic maneuvering, it doesn't take you long to reach one side of the imposing wall that separates palace from town. There, you find a familiar face waiting for you.

"Good evening," Eunuch Kim says with a bow. He’s wearing a different, muted set of green robes and donned a gat as well. “As you instructed, the select guards have been informed to keep quiet, and all else has been taken care of. Let us go."

He likely insisted on coming, as one of the caveats for your illicit excursion. You don't mind, since this isn't the first time he's had to do such a thing, always so worried about his rebellious, stubborn charge. You watch as he lets Yoongi go past first, then gestures for you.

“You look lovely tonight, uinyeo-nim,” Eunuch Kim says, and you share a small, furtive smile that feels like he’s cheering you on. Then you step past the official gates, feeling so acutely the pattering of your pulse because this is truly happening.

For the first handful of minutes, you remain both terrified and anticipatory that you'll be snatched back by the royal guard and accused of kidnapping the prince or something equally ridiculous as being on an actual outing with him. Beside you, Yoongi doesn't seem to have these worries as he walks by your side (though still a respectful, proper distance apart), letting his arms slightly swing while he kicks up dust with his slippers.

Just as you're wondering if you're being an awful companion and not making conversation, he says, "haven't been outside the palace in ages."

“Me too. It's… a little strange, having all this freedom to roam and do what I want. Even if it’s just for a night.”

“I'll say.” Yoongi makes an exasperated noise. “There are too many rules in that place. Can't do anything without being watched.” He gives a minor tilt of his head towards your chaperone, though it's more a tease rather than actually spiteful. Eunuch Kim, for his own sake, pretends not to see or hear the jab.

You smile. “It's for your safety, seja-jeonha.”

“So they say. But they'll regret it when I die of boredom first.”

He rolls his eyes and you laugh, and the palpitations in your stomach ease just like that.

As you draw ever closer to the town, the harmony of string and wind instruments crescendo and build with the jubilant chatter of the townspeople. It's getting to you in the best of ways; you're becoming so elated at the prospect of the festivities that you start to speed up, soon practically rushing towards the town square at a pace that forces Yoongi and Eunuch Kim to run to follow.

"…Wow!"

At the base of the square, your entire face brightens with the wondrous sight unfolding before you. There are people everywhere. Some down celebratory alcohol, others munch on sweet treats, and more still singing along to the traditional folk tunes with robust vibrato, regardless of whether they’re on key or not. You can’t find a single frown amidst all this mirth, and that’s just the way you like it. It’s overwhelming: the sights, the sounds, and the mouthwatering smell of something delicious and fried.

Yoongi eventually jogs up to you, forced to inhale a few quick breaths to refill his lungs. “Are you that hungry?” He asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

Oh god, you just made the prince run.

"No...! Not at all! I’m deeply sorry, seja-jeonha. I got too excited, didn’t I?”

“Not at all. Shall we get something to eat first then?”

You avert your eyes, though you really haven’t had dinner tonight. “No, please. Let us do what you would like.”

Yoongi grins as if it is of no consequence. “What I want? Well, then, I want to go this way.”

As is his habit, he begins to walk in the direction he chooses without notice, though this time he has to weave through the people that crowd the area. His disguise is working well; he is largely ignored as he passes, leading your little group all the way to an open alleyway where stalls line each side, lit up with lamps and vividly colored banners.

A twinge of sadness squeezes your heart as you look at the spread. You faintly remember a decade ago that there used to be a full row of assorted delicacies and sweets for purchase; now it’s mostly merchants with tables of books and hairpins, food becoming too scarce for most to sell with the grain shortage, even if they need the funds. Still, everyone seems to be doing their best with what they’ve got.

Sudden shouts ring out right beside you, nearly blowing your ears out with how loud they are.

“Jeon! Freshly fried shrimp and fish jeon for sale!”

“Hot, hot, hot nokdujeon over here!”

“Gaah!” you exclaim, eyes wide. You wouldn’t be surprised if the monks up the mountain heard about this jeon! When you turn to see who the hell is making all this commotion, you’re met with the scowling faces of two men, glaring furiously at each other in-between tending to their sizzling pans in adjacent stalls. The bearded one looks about seconds away from giving the other younger man a good smack with the fishing rod leaning on the wall behind him.

Said younger man gives a snicker. “No wonder my sales are beating yours. Why would anyone want your shrimp when they could have my delicious mung beans?”

“Say that again, if you dare.”

“Why would anyone want your gross shrimp when—”

“Yah, you can take your beans and shove them right up your nasty sokgot—”

“Excuse me,” Yoongi cuts in between them with a smirk. “I’ll take two orders of each. Preferably not ones shoved anywhere.” He drops coins on both counters, more than enough to cover the food.

“Ahem.” They levy two very similar glares at each other before beginning to package the orders for consumption, switching to polite honorifics in the process. “Yes, sir!”

“Right away, sir!”

They work deftly, obviously very practiced in the art. Neither of them drop so much as a crumb, even though they seem to be racing.

"My lord, here is your order," Fish Jeon says, only to be roughly shoved aside by Mung Bean in a rush to hand over the goods first.

"Please enjoy, sir!"

Yoongi takes the round and crispy nokdujeon, all wrapped in parchment paper. His amused chuckling makes you feel a little warmer, a bit fonder than you should. Especially when he then promptly passes the package to you.

"Seja--" You cut yourself off before you make the mistake. "Um. My lord, this is for me?" You ask, even though you're practically drooling at the scent.

"Did I give it to someone else? Eat."

He turns, hands off one of the assorted jeon plates to Eunuch Kim behind him, who accepts gratefully with a bow.

You, and your stomach, don’t need to be told twice. After blowing on the golden batter, you take a generous bite, accidentally smearing a bit of it on your cheek in the process but god, it tastes incredible. Mung Bean may be loud, but he clearly doesn’t tell lies. You have to hold yourself back from inhaling the pancake whole, instead savoring each nibble on your tongue.

“Come on. Keep going before the crowd grows,” Yoongi says, urging you forward with a jerk of his chin before biting into his own pancake. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this much before, and it’s with slight regret that you tear your eyes away to look where you’re going.

From behind you as you start to walk, you hear, "Jungkook, you brat, shouldn't you be more respectful to your elders?!"

"Whatever, hyungnim. Nokdujeon! Better-than-his-fish nokdujeon!"

There is a very distinctive thwap as you move into the merchant area.

The first booth you come to belongs to a woman that you recognize, selling the latest romance novel by a rising author, Taehyun. She recognizes you too, waving you over with enthusiasm. “Oh, hello! We just received this last week. A tale of forbidden love between a yangban lady and a fisherman! Full of tension and…” she lowers her voice conspiratorially, “more than a few kisses!”

“Do people actually read things like this?” Yoongi mutters, staring at the covers.

“Huh? No! Well, hah, I certainly don’t!” You hope your face looks plausibly innocent. “But thank you,” you turn to say to the woman before hurriedly walking on before she can expose your ruse. The prince doesn’t need to know about the precious books you keep in a secret stash in your room. A lady can’t only study all day, right?

(You make a mental note to come back to town and pick up a copy later.)

Down the row you go, reluctantly finishing off the pancake on the way. Yoongi hands you the entire second plate of jeon not long after. “I don’t want it,” he says, watching you brighten at the prospect of more food. He does end up stealing a piece of shrimp from within your grasp later, throwing it casually into his mouth before you can even react.

The next display to really catch your attention is one laden with delicately handcrafted ornaments, pins, bracelets, and perfumes. “Wow!” You gush, leaning over the table as you try to calculate how much money you brought with you because you want it all, even though you rarely have the occasion to dress up. Still, you want at least something as a keepsake, to hold your memories of this precious day. Yoongi stops and waits for you; you forget it should be the other way around.

“Oh my, Eun-a-ssi? Is that you?”

What? You look up, breath hitched.

“Oh, my apologies.” The woman behind the booth is elderly, her hair grey, eyes wrinkling warmly as she smiles. “My mistake. My eyesight isn’t what it was. You… look a lot like a woman I know. I haven’t seen her in a long time now.”

“Eun-a… Eun-a was my mother,” you murmur. “She passed away last year.”

The woman’s eyes widen as she clutches her hands to her chest. “She did? Oh… Oh no… I’m so sorry, child. Then you must be—” She thinks for a moment, then says your name. You nod, and a small smile slips back on her lips, though now tinged with sadness. You know the feeling. “My name is Hong Sook-ja. I used to live right here in town with Eun-a-ssi, until all those years ago when she moved into the palace and I moved to the countryside. Your mother used to bring you into town for Chuseok and we got to know each other then. These days, I just come back every once in a while to see my granddaughter and great-grandson, so I must have missed the news.”

“It’s alright, Sook-ja-ssi. Mom lived well,” you say, ignoring the twinge in your chest. Any glimpse into mother’s life before she had you fills you with a certain homesickness, alongside the joy. “She was happy. And I’m sure she’d be happy to know that you are living well too.”

“Good. Good. She deserved happiness.” Sook-ja sighs, letting the information sink in. Only after one last kind smile does she finally seem to notice Yoongi standing beside you, trying his best not to intrude. “Now, is this handsome lord your companion? Perhaps your betrothed?”

“N-No!” You immediately cry, not wanting Yoongi to misunderstand, to think that his rank could be dragged so low as to match yours. Sook-ja should know that these class lines, even between yangban and cheonmin, are not so easily crossed. But the mischief in her gaze seems to suggest she doesn’t care much about that. “No, we’re just out. Together.”

“Yes. Out. Together,” Yoongi echoes, just as the door behind Sook-ja starts to open with a noisy creak.

A young woman dressed in a pretty hanbok steps out of the house with a smile. “Grandma, are you interrogating the customers again… Oh, hey! Kim-nim!”

All three of you turn your heads to look at Eunuch Kim, who couldn’t look more surprised at the woman’s appearance if Yoongi started growing a tail. He flusters, stepping back as if that could protect him. “Ahh, Chun-ja-ssi…! You’re, um, here! And you look, wow—” He almost drops the last piece of jeon altogether. “I was not expecting you to be here— I mean, not that I was thinking of you being elsewhere— Uh, not that I think about you that often—”

“This is my granddaughter,” Sook-ja explains, saving the poor man. “Chun-ja. She and her son, Han-jae, are the best parts of my life. She’s so clever, she can even read and write, you know!”

Chun-ja flushes under the praise. “My grandmother likes to exaggerate. But it’s very nice to meet you both,” she says, bowing in greeting as Sook-ja excuses herself, exiting through the same door.

Yoongi is once again smirking. “So, how do you know Kim-nim?”

“Mm, it was about two years ago? I was helping one of the merchants bring grain into the palace. Kim-nim saw me struggling with a particularly heavy pot, and so he helped me carry it. Since then, we chat for a bit every time he’s in town on an errand, and exchange the occasional letter! When he remembers to write me back, that is. Though his letters are often so lovely that I don’t mind the wait.” Chun-ja offers Eunuch Kim a grin that he can’t quite return with ease.

Yoongi has to work hard to keep his face relatively straight as he says, “hmm. So that is why he’s always disappearing from the palace with those weak excuses? And using all that ink? He always said it was for something important.”

“Seja— My lord! Please!” Spare me, Eunuch Kim’s wilted expression pleads. You have to hide your amusement behind a hand, lest you burst out with inappropriate laughter.

Once again, Sook-ja comes to the rescue as she shuffles out of the house, holding two familiar objects that make your eyes light up. “You’re both in luck. I knew we had a few extra this year, even after that rascal great-grandson of mine ruined a few with his roughhousing. He’d still be causing trouble if he weren’t off with his friends right now.” Sook-ja sighs. “I wish my grandson were still around to scold him. But anyway, I’d be happy if you’d take them!”

“Wish lanterns!” You exclaim, taking the lightly orange cloth contraption with glee. “Oh, I haven’t seen these up close in years.” The palace celebrations don’t usually include them, leaving you to try and catch the sight of the tiny, almost imperceptible lights floating into the sky from so far away. You’ve always loved the thought of the lamps surging towards that boundless sky, endlessly drifting, free to follow the wind.

“Do you know how to start it?” Chun-ja asks. You shake your head. “Let me show you.”

As Chun-ja explains the mechanisms behind the lantern to you, Yoongi reaches for his coin pouch. “We must give you something in exchange.” Yoongi produces several mun coins that are at least five times the lanterns’ actual worth, and tries to give them to her.

Sook-ja pushes his hand away. “No, no, it’s a present!”

“I insist.” Yoongi tries again, only to be rejected, again. He wonders if she would be so obstinate if she knew who he really was. (Probably yes.) “Alright… What if I take another item from the table to make it a fair trade?”

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Sook-ja bursts into laughter, her belly shaking beneath her skirt. “Fine. Take your pick!”

Yoongi barely scans the accessories; he snatches up the bracelet you were looking at before and tucks it into his jeogori with a secret smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sook-ja says warmly, before her smile dips down conspiratorially. “It’ll look good on her. Anyway, have fun! Enjoy the night.”

“I’m sure we will.” Yoongi shifts his attention to you. “All done? Then let’s keep going.”

“Yes, my lord,” you say, happily clutching the lanterns. “Thank you so much, Sook-ja-ssi. Chun-ja-ssi.”

Chun-ja beams. “Our pleasure. I hope we see each other in town again soon. And Kim-nim, don’t forget your letters!”

“Yes, of course, I will. I mean, I won’t. Forget, that is. Uh, I’ll write. G-Goodbye.” Eunuch Kim bows twice in quick succession before hurrying after you two, trying his best not to look back for one last glimpse of what he’s left behind.

You continue your wandering through the rest of the festival, marveling at the sheer strength of the wrestlers and then the elegance of the dancers. Absently, you wish this atmosphere could stay in place forever, and that everything else could just vanish into the smoke and ash of the burning campfires, but you know too well that life is a balance. And right now, with the prince’s silky sleeve pressed almost right against yours as you walk past a chorus of singers, the scales have temporarily tipped in your favor.

Eventually, all your wandering takes you to almost the outskirts of town, to an area you visited before with your mother. It takes some squinting but you eventually recognize the obscure path among the bushes, and immediately gesture towards it. The prince has shown you so much tonight; you want to return the favor, especially since his steps are beginning to slow. “This way! Please come with me.”

“Are you sure this is safe?” Eunuch Kim calls. “We cannot let anything happen to our lord!”

You start down the road. “Completely!”

It’s been so long since you last took these steps, but it all comes back to you effortlessly as you take the lead. It takes a few minutes, just a few, to reach the clearing you seek. And it is exactly as you remember it — the nature growing with a wild, greedy virility, the oddly shaped rocks studded in the dirt, and the reflecting pond, its water rippling from the drag of the autumn wind across its surface. There is no one here, which is exactly how you expected it to be.

“Here it is, seja-jeonha.”

“It’s quiet,” he marvels, and steps further in. He stops at the edge of the pond, staring not down but out, at the reflection of the full moon in its depths.

“I thought that you could use a change of environment. You look a little tired.” At this point, you know him well enough to tell that the neutrality of his expression shows subtle signs of weariness.

“The noise. It can be overwhelming at times. I’m not used to so much of it, usually. But I like the songs.”

You nod. “I understand perfectly! That’s why mom took me here in the first place. It used to be her secret spot when she was growing up.”

His arms shift, sleeves brushing the sides of his jacket. “She was a kind woman.”

“Very much so.”

You feel the breeze swiftly pick up, weaving through the strands of hair that have come loose from your up-do. The curling leaves around you rustle with welcome relief, bathing in the atmosphere, the rare tranquility of such a beautiful evening.

“Shall we float the lanterns?” You suggest after a spell.

“Sure.” Yoongi indicates for Eunuch Kim to bring the lanterns over. “Matches?”

Eunuch Kim fumbles in his robes for a few seconds before he realizes with a start that they’re just not there. “My apologies!” He bows. “I must have left the matches back at the booth!”

Yoongi sighs. “Too distracted by Chun-ja-ssi, hm?” Eunuch Kim flushes. “Go get them then.”

“But to leave you alone—”

“I’m not alone.”

Eunuch Kim looks between the prince and you a few times in rapid succession, his thoughts evidently as wavering as his eyes. He finally lands back on the prince.

“…Understood. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You both watch him go, the quick pace of his steps no doubt brought on by anticipation.

“I can’t believe he’s been involved with a woman without any of us knowing,” Yoongi says, his tone betraying his real fondness.

“It’s sweet.” You smile, wondering if Eunuch Kim will ever manage to stop the stuttering long enough to actually tell Chun-ja how much he appears to like her. He is a mature man with most aspects, but apparently you’ve happened upon his one sole weakness. “But… He’ll probably be gone for a while. We won’t be able to light the lanterns.”

“I thought as much when I told him to go.”

“Well, it’s nice to take a break.” You don’t mention that you’d probably go anywhere and do anything, even if it’s just sitting around waiting, if it was with him. Instead, you look down at the pond, the water stilling enough for there to be a slightly blurry reflection of yourself awaiting below. “Hm. The water’s gotten a bit murkier these years. It used to be clear enough to see perfectly in. But it’s not so bad! Come look!”

Yoongi does. His pale face, all dark eyes and that rough, obvious scar, appears beside yours.

You fully intended on saying something else but that thought falls clear out of your mind when you realize just how undone your hair has become in all the bustle of the celebrations. I look like a mess, you think in a panic, hurriedly feeling for the strands to tuck them back. You’ve only managed to get one side fixed when a rock comes flying out of nowhere, plunging into the water with a noisy thunk! It disturbs both your reflections and wrecks the temporary mirror as cold droplets splash back.

“Hey!” You cry, leaping back from the pond to Yoongi’s grin. “What was that for?”

He has the audacity to look innocent. “Nothing. Haven’t you ever skipped rocks?”

“That was more a throw than a skip,” you grumble, checking your skirt as you hope it didn’t take too much damage. Thankfully, only a few drops actually landed on the precious fabric. “But yes, I love skipping rocks. Properly.”

“Here then.” You open your palm at Yoongi’s behest and he drops a stone into it. “Show me how to do it properly.”

You accept the challenge and plant one foot behind you, staring down a point in the middle of the pond, angling your arm as you position the stone in your hand. You most definitely look the part of an expert as you let the thing go. It shoots towards the water at a rapid speed, whooshing right through the air like a tiny bullet as it hits the surface at the angle and then proceeds to instantly sink to the bottom like, well, a rock.

Yoongi’s raucous laugh is no less than a roar, his entire body wracked with the exertion as he practically doubles over. He only gets louder when he sees the embarrassment on your face, the absolute mortification.

“I never said I was good at it…” You mutter, deciding to try a second time. This rock plummets right down to the watery floor too, refusing to save you even a little bit of face.

Yoongi’s settled into an infuriatingly smug look. “So, you can’t actually skip a stone. But you still love doing it?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” He effortlessly makes a single skip before his pebble capsizes.

“I have a theory.” His curiosity piques at that; a turn of his head. “That it’s not up to us if the rock skips or not. Even if we have all the technique in the world,” you pick up another stone, “if the wind just happens to blow a bit harder, or if a fish from beneath disturbs the rhythm, or even if the tides themselves decide to surge up… It’ll fail. Or only skip the once. But—” You clutch the rock tightly in your hand and feel the weight, the cold, steady shape. “But if we wish hard enough. If we just keep trying every time we have the opportunity again and again…” This time, your rock is truly flying as it smacks the rippling water and skips a miraculous four times before finally dropping into the deep. “The universe might just make it happen.”

“…Or you need more practice.”

You shrug. “I’d rather believe that there are some things in the world simply out of our control. But that we can still hope for those things to shift, to change for the better if we never give up.”

Yoongi falls silent, staring at the ground through his downcast, delicate eyelashes. Maybe you said too much, you think. You didn’t mean to ramble. It’s just something you’ve thought about often. For these past months, it’s been the only thing keeping you going on the hardest, loneliest days. But you’ve made it. You’re still here. And by some miracle, he’s right here with you.

(You think maybe this is happiness.)

“I like that.” His eyes flick up to meet yours with an intensity that says he’s listening. He’s contemplating your thoughts and taking you seriously. He rubs the back of his neck, scratching at an invisible mark. “It’s a good theory. I… I understand it.”

There’s a weight to those words that you feel in the pit of your heart. A pull that draws you to him like the reckless tides towards his moon – a gravitational longing to know what truth vibrates beneath. You wonder if he feels it too.

“Seja-jeonha, I’ve returned!”

Eunuch Kim comes rushing back into the clearing, wielding the packet of matches. You both turn to him, letting the moment be whisked away with the wind whipping past the emerald robes, though you keep it safe in your memories. The eunuch has brought ink and brushes too, for you to write your wishes on the fabric itself. Increases the chance of their coming true, or so the legend goes.

After a few swishes of the brush, it doesn’t take long to light the fires. Your darkly inked characters are lit up by the flame, flickering staunchly beneath the opening as you each clutch a lantern in your hands and look at each other.

“What are you wishing for?” Yoongi asks.

“For more jeon,” is your reply, followed by an easy laugh that he echoes.

Then you let the lantern go as he does — two firebirds soaring side by side into the twinkling night.

a/n: *cue Can You Feel the Love Tonight playing softly in the background even though it hasn’t been invented yet*. hope you’re all enjoying sweet Yoon 🥺

[petri808]

Pranks Are So Revealing Sometimes…

@itafushiweek One bed prompt

After everything had finally settled and damages were assessed to Tokyo jujutsu high following the Kamo incident, the faculty decided it was time for a full renovation. They would fix the damaged areas but also update other undamaged parts. Including the dorms according to their teacher. The students were given a schedule of when each of their rooms would be worked on and given boxes to pack their belongings for temporary storage.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo grinned. “Shouldn’t take more than a day or two per room.”

“Yeah, okay,” Megumi stared back up at his teacher after reading the information. “But where are we supposed to sleep if our room is being renovated?”

“Oh, well since the unoccupied rooms will also be renovated during this process…” the man tapped his chin. “Got it! You bunk with Yuuji, then switch when it’s his rooms turn.”

“Cool! A sleepover!” Yuuji pumped his fists in the air. “We can hang out and watch movies and eat junk food and just crash from a food coma.”

Megumi swallowed thickly with a groan. “I’d rather you give me your credit card,” directing his comment to Gojo, “so I can get a hotel room.”

“No, can do buddy. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

Yuuji threw an arm over Megumi’s. “It’ll be fine,” his brilliant smile causing the man’s cheeks to redden. “Movies and food, we’ll have fun.”

Megumi looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ugh! Fine!”

“Good.” Gojo patted his student on the shoulder. “Now that’s settled, get packing young Megumi. Tomorrow we’ll be starting with your room.”

With Yuuji’s help, it didn’t take long for Megumi to pack up his belongings. There really wasn’t much, fitting everything into 3 medium sized boxes. Mostly clothes, some books, and minor items. He packed a bag with just enough to be displaced a couple of days, and if the renovations took longer, he could probably just borrow clothes from Yuuji. They were roughly the same size anyway. The boxes were then taken to Yuuji’s room and stacked in a corner out of the way.

But the full toll of the situation didn’t really hit Megumi until the morning of the renovations. He was awoken around 7 am by Gojo, letting him know the construction workers would be there in 15 minutes. Great. So, he dragged himself out of bed and walked into Yuuji’s room planning to get a couple more hours of sleep. It should be fine considering Yuuji rarely got up early on a day off.

The problem was— ‘Only one bed…’ Megumi groaned internally as he swiped his hand down his face. Duh! How could he have missed this detail?! And there was no way to fit a second bed in the room since they were only designed for single occupancy.

“Ugh…” Megumi shuffled back out of the room in irritation. Guess he’ll just go get breakfast and figure out what to do next!

Look, he didn’t have a problem sharing a bed with another person. It’s just sleeping on a bed instead of the hardwood floor, what’s the issue with that? If it was anyone else, Nobara, Toge, Maki, Yuta, whatever— no problem. The PROBLEM is it’s Yuuji. Maybe one of them will let him stay with them? Megumi put his head down on the kitchen table with his arms over his head in frustration. No… that would be weird to ask. Gojo already made all the arrangements between everyone, so if he suddenly had an issue with it, they might find that suspicious and he really didn’t need them asking questions, or worse teasing him about it.

He could hear it all too. What’s wrong with Yuuji? You worried something might happen? Too afraid to confront your feelings. Wink, wink. Aww that’s so cute you’re embarrassed. But Yuuji’s a good catch. Yada, Yada. Maki’s monotone, “just man up” tone was not something Megumi wanted to hear. ‘It’s just a night or two… no big deal. He’ll sleep on one side; I’ll sleep on the other. What could go wrong?’

“Morning!”

Megumi’s body immediately went stiff at the sound of Yuuji voice. Damn guy was like a cat this morning, he never heard him come in! Or did he just miss it because he was too wrapped up in his mind?

“Yeah… morning,” Megumi responded as he sat up in his chair and pretended everything was fine. “Sorry, I didn’t make coffee or anything yet.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can make breakfast. Want some?” Yuuji responded in his chipper way.

“Sure, since you’re offering.”

“I see they started working on your room. That’s what woke me up.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, That’s why I’m up too. Gojo kicked me out at 7.”

“Oh, if you were tired, you could’ve just gone back to sleep in my room.”

“Nah. I’m fine.”

“You still look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Yuuji placed a plate of food in front of his friend, then sat down across from him with his own. “So, got any plans for today?”

“Not really.”

“I was thinking of grabbing some snacks from the store for tonight.”

“Something happening tonight?”

“Movie night! Remember?”

“You were serious about that?!”

“Of course! We rarely have time to relax, so this is a perfect opportunity.”

“Well, since I’m stuck in your room… what movie are you picking?”

“You can choose. I don’t really care. How about I’m in charge of snacks and you grab the movies.”

“Fine. I’ll dig something up.”

The pair part ways for the rest of the day. Megumi felt it best to keep himself occupied so he wouldn’t think about that night. So, after breakfast he got some training in with Yuta and Maki who between the two really kept him on his toes. The construction work on his room sounded a lot more extensive than Gojo had relayed based on all the noise coming from within. Someone had placed a “do not enter” sign on the door, and so when Megumi walked past it, he didn’t bother peeking. By the time he returned from shopping around 5pm, it was silent. ‘Guess they’re done for the day.’ But since the sign was still up, it wasn’t finished. ‘Ugh, it better be done by tomorrow night.’

“Hey, Megumi!”

Megumi froze in place. Damn it with Yuuji sneaking up on him! He turned around. “Yeah?”

“I got food!” Yuuji held up two plastic bags stuffed full. “Dinner, snacks, drinks. Did you grab the movies?”

Megumi pulled three DVD cases out of his shopping bag and showed it to his friend. Three movies would kill about six hours, which meant sleeping right after they were finished, equaled less dead time to worry about.

“Sweet! Let’s get started!”

The moment of dread was upon Megumi the instant he walked into Yuuji’s room and laid eyes on that single bed. And as the dorm mate puttered around oblivious to his nervousness, he just watched quietly as the man plopped the bags onto the bed and grabbed a laptop from the desk. This was it, no turning back now.

“Why are you just standing there?” Yuuji questioned with laughter in his tone and patted the bed. “Come on, before the food gets cold.”

Megumi rolled his eyes as if nothing was wrong, but his heartbeat picked up the pace with each step towards the bed. He should be happy that Yuuji was so oblivious to emotions, and yet a part of him was annoyed… maybe disappointed… Megumi quickly shut those thoughts down as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So, just to get it out of the way. How is this gonna work? Like which side do I sleep on?” Megumi questioned.

Yuuji stopped fusing with a food container and looked over. “Oh, hmm, doesn’t matter to me. I can sleep on either side.”

Well since he was already on one side. “I’ll just take this side I’m on then.”

Yuuji gave him a thumbs up. “Pass me the first movie.”

The first movie… all the movies he’d chosen were just action types. Megumi wanted something with as little romance as possible and knew Yuuji didn’t mind action or horror. Frankly, he thought it was funny his friend still loved horror after becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. Don’t they see enough of it in real life? Between the movies and the eating, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Yuuji became so engrossed in what was on the screen, it helped his anxieties stay lowered.

Megumi had taken up a position with his back against the wall sitting upright, and legs stretched out in front of him, while Yuuji was next to him with about a foot of space between them. Mid-way through the third movie, Megumi was genuinely paying attention since he’d never seen it before, when he felt a pressure against his shoulder. His eyes flared, cheeks heated up, and adrenaline spiked his heart rate. Yuuji had fallen asleep against his shoulder. No kidding this guy could fall asleep anywhere! Versus him who was too wide awake now to even think about it.

The last thing he wanted to do was awaken the sleeping man and make things even more awkward. So, Megumi tried to gently push his friend away to simply rest against the wall. His first several tries failed, but on the fourth, success… briefly.

“Mmm,” Yuuji stirred without waking and shifted on his own to curl up in Megumi’s lap instead!

‘Fuck, my life!’ Megumi screamed in his head. Things just went from bad to a disaster!

Again, Megumi tried to shift the man away, but every time he tried Yuuji would whine.

“Stop moving…” Yuuji mumbled and wrapped his arms around Megumi’s waist, snuggling his face deeper into the man’s leg.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Megumi gritted out in a muffled anger. By now, his whole body felt like it’d been stuck in a furnace and was being roasted alive. Ugh! Yuuji had turned into a damn octopus clinging to its meal! And yet… Megumi had to admit the man was cute as he slept. Geez, he even smiled in his sleep!

Not much he could really do, Megumi exhaled in defeat. So, he did his best to turn off the laptop screen using his foot and shift it close enough to reach. He then grabbed it and placed it onto the nightstand next to the bed, leaving them in a darkened room with only the gentle breathing of Yuuji as any sound. Okay, fine! Megumi counseled himself. Just ignore the fact there’s someone attached to you and try to get some sleep. The faster he went to sleep, the faster the nightmare would end. So, he shifted his body to lie down, then turned over onto his side hoping Yuuji would also readjust.

And the man did, just not in a way Megumi wanted. Yuuji simply snuggled up to his back and weaved an arm around his torso like he was one of those giant stuffed animals you win at a fair! He pushed the arm away, but it sprang back into place.

Megumi screamed in his head. He was so tired… ‘just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it…’

The sound of birds chirping caused Megumi to rouse the next morning. Perfect, his torture was over, it was time to get up— ‘Why was the pillow so hard—’ his eyes opened in a panic as his hand felt the unmistakable sensation of muscle beneath clothing. Without moving an inch only his eyes shifted over and saw the outline of Yuuji’s body lying on his back and he was curled up against his side! ‘Oh, fuck!’

Fight or flight kicked into overdrive as Megumi sprang from the bed like a cat and bolted out of the room. Every nerve ending along his skin was on fire and his mind freaking out, praying Yuuji had slept through it all. ‘This is gonna be so awkward if— What the?!’

As soon as he made it out of the room, Megumi almost ran right smack into Gojo. The man had one hand on Megumi’s bedroom door and the other carried a cursed doll, like the one Yuuji had trained with to practice energy control. “What is that for?”

Realizing he was busted, Gojo slipped the doll behind his back. “Nothing. I was just gonna check on the progress.”

“Uh-huh…” Megumi’s eyebrow raised, instantly suspicious. “Well, let’s just check,” he opened the door himself and walked in. “What’s going on?!” He whipped around. “Are they finished?” Because his room looked exactly like he’d left it the morning before. And he meant exactly!

“Really?!” Gojo pretended to be surprised. “That was quick! Looks like you can move back in. Well, see you at breakfast.”

Gojo turned to leave but Megumi grabbed his shoulder.

“Oi! What the hell?! There was no construction was there you prick?!”

“Nonsense! They must’ve finished yesterday.”

Megumi narrowed a menacing glare at the teacher. “That damn doll was the one making all the noise, wasn’t it?”

“Um… no…”

“And you were about to plant it for a second day!”

“Of course, not! I’m just carrying it around…”

“You’re such a shit liar!”

“Careful Megumi, might wanna keep your voice down lest wake up Yuuji.”

“What do I care if he wakes up now?”

“He’ll find you missing and the bed empty and be sad.” Gojo grinned defiantly then took off in a sprint, cackling like a mad man down the hall.

Bastard pranked him! Megumi screamed as he took off after the man. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

[psychosistr]

Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 7

Summary: Dominic and Steelbeak need to talk through their issues after their rather tense mission. Fortunately, Steelbeak knows just the right way to start the conversation and has a trick or two up his sleeve to help smooth things over with his partner.

Notes: Alright, final chapter- time for that emotional reconciliation! xD This has been a fun piece to write and I hope you’ve all enjoyed it as much as I have :3

-First Chapter-

*knock* *knock* *knock* *knock*

Red eyes glanced up from the printed pages of the book they’d been focused on for a good hour or so. If it weren’t for the fact that the knock he heard was so familiar to him now, Dominic may have simply chosen to ignore it until he’d finished his page (though, honestly, he was tempted to do so anyway). With a reluctant sigh, the loon placed a bookmark safely within the confines of his latest novel and got up from the chair in his personal study to go answer his front door.

After getting a barely-coherent Steelbeak settled in his own apartment the previous evening, the two hadn’t seen or spoken to each other regarding their mission. Or, more specifically, Dominic had holed himself up in his apartment in an attempt to sort out his own feelings and insecurities before facing his partner again. Now, however, it seemed the other man was ready to talk, so the least the loon could do was have the courtesy to open the door and let him in.

…At least, that was Dominic’s plan until he opened the door to an empty hallway. Looking around in confusion, red eyes spotted something that could match them in color on the floor outside of his door- a pathway made of vibrant red rose petals connecting his doorway to the opened one next door.

Despite himself, a small smile found its way onto the fowl’s dark beak. He followed the path that had been so meticulously laid out for him and soon found himself in the other man’s home. The dimmable lights had been turned down as low as possible without impeding the loon’s vision, creating a rather ambient setting as the trail led him to the dining room he’d become quite familiar with after many meals shared in it with his partner. At the moment, however, it was a bit less familiar with the table and chairs missing and the only notable feature in the room being the rose petals that lined the edges of the floor.

Just as he was about to call out the other man’s name to see what he had planned, music started playing from the stereo in the living room with the volume turned up just loud enough to be properly audible from the dining room. Right on cue with the upbeat and sultry tango music that filled the air, the apartment’s prime occupant made his presence known.

Stepping in time to the beat of the music, Steelbeak entered from the dining room and winked at the other fowl. “Fancy runnin’ int’ YOU here~” The taller man was dressed in one of his usual button-up red shirts, bowtie, and black slacks, but was missing his white jacket and, instead, had donned a pair of white silk gloves- one of which held a red rose that he presented to the loon with a flourish. “Whattaya say t’ makin’ some sweet music with me, gorgeous?”

The small smile on the loon’s dark beak grew as he took the offered flower with a quiet chuckle. “What exactly are you up to, Steelbeak?”

With his hand now empty, the metal-mouthed fowl held the appendage out in a clear invitation. “Askin’ the prettiest bird here t’ dance with me, that’s what.” The invitation was accompanied by that ridiculous little eyebrow-wiggle the taller man did when he was being jokingly flirtatious.

Darn it, he knew it was hard for Dominic to stay mad when he did that. “I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.” Carefully tucking the (thankfully dethorned) rose into his hair, one black feathered hand found its way into the white gloved one presented to him while the other rested on a broad shoulder. The thin silken barrier of the gloves was an interesting feeling in his hand and his side when the other found its mark, but he appreciated the other man’s apparent consideration for his comfort.

One dance soon turned into two. Then three. Then into so many more that it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. It all became one dizzying but pleasant rush of movement as the duo danced their way from a tango into a waltz and a litany of other dances to accompany the ever changing music.

Dancing with Steelbeak, Dominic found, was a different experience than he expected- though not an unpleasant one, by any means: Given his likely all-female list of previous dance partners, the smaller bird would have expected Steelbeak to instinctively take the lead and have his partner follow along. Instead, there was a sense of give-and-take to his movements- if Dominic let him lead, then he would lead, but if the loon moved to take charge, then the rooster would instantly follow without question. The position of their hands rarely changed- aside from when necessary for a spin or dip, of course- but it still felt obvious when they changed who was leading and who was following. It was a dance in which both parties felt equally in control and respected as the leader- a balance that wouldn’t work for all dance-partners, but was absolutely perfect for the two of them.

Several dances later, the pair found themselves swaying together calmly to the soothing melody of a piano piece. Dominic had relaxed considerably since the start of their dancing and was now far more comfortable with his partner’s hand on his waist while the thumb of the other caressed the back of his own hand in a subtle display of affection. “I wish you’d asked me to dance ages ago,” The loon admitted with a soft smile. “You’re quite good.”

The corner of the metal-mouthed fowl’s namesake quirked up in a half-smile at the compliment. “You ain’t half bad yourself, stripes.” As they swayed and slow-stepped together, Steelbeak’s smile fell slightly, turning into something a bit more serious. “Y’know, I’m pretty much a master at every dance out there.” Though he tried to make his words come off as a boast, the undertone of melancholy in his voice made it abundantly clear that was not his intention. “But, there’s still a few I don’t know…couple I’m still learnin’ the steps for..and…it’s weird for me- not knowin’ what I’m supposed t’ do..”

The metaphor was not lost on the darker bird, the other’s words causing him to give an understanding smile while squeezing the gloved hand he was holding. “Well then, you’re lucky that I’m a fairly skilled dancer as well. I’m sure I could help you learn the more complicated steps and take the lead when necessary.”

Dark grey eyes gazed down into the red ones gratefully as the soft squeeze was reciprocated. “That’d be great.” With a quiet sigh and a shake of his head, Steelbeak decided to drop the metaphors and just speak frankly with his partner. “Truth is, I’m just not used t’ this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing..”

“I know.” That made sense, Dominic figured. After all, it’s not like Steelbeak had ever dated another m-

“I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before, y’know?” Huh…well…that wasn’t what the loon was expecting to hear, but he didn’t interrupt the rooster’s explanation. “I mean, sure, I bet there’s loads of chicks out there- and I mean LOADS of ‘em- that thought I was, but I never saw myself like that. It was dinner, drinks, a dance or two, back t’ my place, then a callback a few months later if I bothered t’ get their number t’ do it all again…not really what you’d consider a ‘boyfriend’ sorta situation..” A white-gloved thumb gently brushed over the black feathers of the hand within his grasp as he avoided eye contact with the shorter man. “This is probably the first time I’ve ever been serious ‘bout someone I dated…first time I’ve stuck around..so…I don’t know how all this ‘boyfriend’ stuff works- honestly, I just figure half of it out watchin’ you an’ followin’ your lead. If I make a mistake or do somethin’ wrong, I’m probably not gonna realize it ‘til ya TELL ME, and I know you’re embarrassed bein’ seen with me, but-”

“Stop.” Though his tone was firm, it was mostly so Dominic could make sure he had a moment to recover from the proverbial record-scratch he heard in his head accompanying his partner’s last words. Once that moment had passed, the dark hand that had previously rested on the taller man’s shoulder reached up to his face and tilted that deadly beak downward to make sure he had the rooster’s full attention. “You think I’m embarrassed to be seen with you? Why on earth would you think that?”

That thought was absolutely ludicrous. Sure, Steelbeak wasn’t perfect (who was?)- he had a destructive temper that could rival Dominic’s when things went wrong and he was pushed too far, his manipulative ways with women were aggravating (though, admittedly, he’d been getting marginally better since the loon’s discussion with him about how he treated Ammonia Pine), he was rude and bossy (with others, mostly- he now knew better than to try that with his partner), and had a sense of vanity and pride that could rival Narcissus himself- but not ONCE since the two had started dating did the thought of being embarrassed to be seen with his partner ever cross his mind. If, somehow, he’d given off that impression, then he needed to know exactly how he’d managed to do so and make sure he never repeated that behavior again.

Steelbeak seemed genuinely surprised by the sharp shooter’s questions and genuinely concerned tone, blinking down at him before recovering and explaining himself further. “Well..it’s just…ya never act like we’re dating in public, y’know?” When all he received was a questioning look prompting him for more, dark grey eyes looked around as if searching for the right words or examples to use. “How t’ put this……when it’s just the two of us, you’re okay with flirtin’, or holdin’ hands, or leanin’ on me, or-or even just sayin’ that we’re together.” The corner of his mouth tipped downwards ever so slightly. “But, if there’s anyone else around, then you avoid that sorta thing like it’s gonna get ya shot. Every dame I’ve been with was practically chompin’ at the bit t’ tell everyone I was her boyfriend after just one date, but you always make it sound like I’m your work-partner and that’s it. I’ve seen ya flirt with guys left an’ right and not have any trouble showin’ you were into ‘em; meanwhile, I’m stuck here wonderin’ if you’re not supposed t’ do that when you’re actually datin’ a guy? Is it somethin’ you’re just supposed t’ keep secret?” He shook his head before meeting the other’s gaze once more. “I’m not askin’ you t’ go throwin’ yourself at me when we’re out- think I’d be more freaked out by that than excited- but I don’t know what I’m supposed t’ do an’ it’s drivin’ me crazy.”

“That’s not…you didn’t- I never..” For a moment, Dominic was lost for words.

From the time he’d gotten his first boyfriend in high school, the loon had never been in a relationship that was anything even remotely close to public. Most of the guys the loon dated had been adamant about keeping the whole thing secret to avoid damaging either of their reputations; after many years of the same secretive charade, he’d simply gotten used to it being the status quo. Even with his fiancé, who was so very clearly proud of his relationship with his partner, Dominic had asked that they not tell anyone so that they could keep each other safe if anything happened- a request that the other man didn’t fully understand, but accepted anyway and made sure to make up for the lack of public affection the first chance he got as soon as they were alone. The idea of having a partner- of having a boyfriend- who actually wanted to be public about his relationship with the aquatic avian was new territory that was as exhilarating to explore as it was bone-chillingly terrifying.

Taking the darker fowl’s silence as hesitance, Steelbeak took a breath and sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna tell no one, then that’s fine by me. I’ll follow your lead on this one. But- ” The hand that had been holding the loon’s so carefully until now finally let go, causing a pang of panic to jolt through the shorter man’s chest as he worried he’d upset his partner with his lack of a proper response. Before he could apologize, however, Steelbeak brought the gloved appendage to his beak and used the tip to carefully bite down on one of the fingers so he could easily pull the fabric away and free his hand. “-whatever ya want me t’ be in public, whether it’s your boyfriend or just your partner-” The glove fell carelessly to the floor as he spoke, giving him a chance to now use his beak to tug down the cuff of his sleeve just enough to fully expose his wrist. “-I’m yours. Whatever ya want that t’ mean, I’ll be fine with it, long as you still want me t’ be yours.”

Until that moment, Dominic had assumed the gloves were for his own benefit- a way to help him feel more comfortable with his partner’s hands on him while they danced. In reality, however, it seemed their purpose was to hide the still glistening dye on the lighter bird’s feathers.

On the inner side of Steelbeak’s left wrist, once blank off-white feathers had been skillfully painted and dyed with black and white ink to form a tilted image of a domino with two dots on one side and six on the other. Then, as if the iconic symbol from his hat wasn’t enough of a clue as to whom the painted feathers were referencing, the image was coupled with beautiful calligraphy on both the top and bottom in a mirrored style with the side closest to Steelbeak’s hand saying “Dominic” and the other saying “Domino”, both words accompanied by an elegantly curved underline to help them stand out as well as form a border around the domino.

To say Dominic was shocked would be an understatement, but to simply say he was touched by the gesture would be an even BIGGER one. The image was in a much harder to hide place than the rooster’s back- anyone could catch a glimpse of the loon’s name if Steelbeak’s usual long-sleeves happened to slip high enough and would be on full display anytime he wore  anything even a fraction shorter. He was making it clear that he was not ashamed of his relationship with his partner- with his boyfriend- and didn’t care who happened to see the ink or question its meaning. As if that wasn’t proof enough, there was also the length of time the markings would last: Once a bird’s feathers were painted, the ink would last for at least a year barring any significant damage to the area that resulted in losing all of the feathers at once (something Steelbeak would likely go to great lengths to avoid due to his own vanity). This was a clear sign of commitment from the nearly gamophobic man; proof that he was committed to making this relationship work and planned to stick with Dominic for at least a year.

With wide eyes and slightly trembling fingers, the loon reached out and gently traced the lines of the image. It felt dry, but the sheen to it suggested that it had only just recently reached that point. Steelbeak must have gotten it done that afternoon in order for it to set properly and give him time to get everything ready. The thought brought a soft smile to the darker bird’s face- this man really, truly cared about him more than any of his previous “dates” (calling them girlfriends would be far too generous) and wanted to make sure Dominic knew it.

Looking up into the other’s dark grey eyes, Dominic’s smile grew a little more. “While this is a lovely gesture, I’m not getting your beak painted on me. Sorry.” The statement earned a laugh from the taller man, as the sharpshooter predicted, and he seized the opportunity to hook a finger under the rooster’s tie, giving him the leverage he needed to bring the metal-mouthed fowl’s namesake close enough for a kiss.

“!!!” Steelbeak made a startled sound in the back of his throat clearly not expecting the sudden contact. Still, despite the clear surprise visible in his wide-eyed stare, he made no move to pull away or put an end to the intimate connection. By the time his tie was released and the shorter bird had pulled away just enough to give him a smirk that left him red in the face, his short-circuited brain had recovered enough to form a response. “So, uh….that’s on the table now..?”

“As long as it’s not while I’m angry at you or I’ve made it clear that I need some space, then yes, that is very much ‘on the table’.” Dominic couldn’t help but laugh at the flustered expression on his boyfriend’s face. That look was a precious sight and it was for his eyes only. “What? Did you really go into this expecting that we’d never kiss?”

A softer version of the lighter fowl’s usually grating laughter was accompanied by a shake of his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into that more genuine smile that the loon adored. “T’ be honest with ya, Deedee, I had NO friggin’ idea what t’ expect goin’ int’ this….but-” An ungloved hand reached towards the darker one nearby, waiting for an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement before carefully entwining their contrasting-colored digits together. “-I knew I wanted it, whatever that meant.”

Dominic’s own smile softened a bit at the warm feeling of his boyfriend’s fingers entwined with his and the subtle thump of a pulse that wasn’t his own felt through their touching palms. Whatever this would turn into one day, he knew one thing for sure-

“I want it, too. Whatever it means.”

<--Previous Chapter

End Notes: And so we come to the end and my favorite part of any emotionally turbulent story- the communication and resolution. I always enjoy seeing characters in a loving and committed relationship, but (to me, at least) part of what makes a relationship strong is being able to fight about something and work through it so that all parties involved feel heard and understood, so I try working that into my stories whenever possible. I hope you guys enjoyed this installment of the series and I can’t wait until I have the time/energy to add to it again x3

[svnthxsense]

Genre/Rating: Fluff/smut ; M

Warnings: Fem reader, cursing, light choking, slight corruption (?), slight praise, oral, tiny bit of slow burn

Word Count: 9.8k i’m sorry

Author’s Note: I got very carried away... Anyways, Happy Mark Day! This oneshot is a standalone in my Neo Tech High School series and is loosely based off of the first verse & chorus of Shot Clock by Ella Mai. Please send in any feedback! Also, my apologies if the Keep Reading function doesn’t work on mobile but I can’t do much about it T-T

It was mid-March when news broke in your school that a tier-1 athlete had transferred in. Everyone was swarming with curiosity all for a certain Mark Lee. Most of the gossip came from the guys, who bantered about his stats as a starting point-guard and argued about whether or not he’d make a good addition to the school’s beloved team. The girls, of course, were looking forward to a fresh face on campus. You couldn’t help but be curious, too.

After a week of anticipation, people were stunned to see the actual image of the mysterious basketball player. He was attractive at the absolute least. Then there was something that neither you nor your peers expected: he was the shyest, most awkward boy you had met in a while. How was it that the star basketball player who was always in the spotlight happened to be socially awkward?

You were surprised to discover that you two had a lot of classes together, and you’d be lying if you said you never stared. It didn’t help that he always came into math class with basketball shorts and a tank top on, his skin lightly glistening with sweat even after his brief post-gym shower. His hair was tousled, yet he managed to make it work like no other. It was a sight that made your mouth water and your mind fill with less-than decent thoughts.

It was only halfway through his first week of school when Mark had gotten called into the principal's office in the middle of third period. And then you were called in- not even five minutes after.

“Good morning, Principal Yoon,” You greeted her politely, taking the only other seat left in the room right next to Mark. You felt his eyes on you but decided against looking back at the nerve-wracked boy. Every time you saw him, you seemed to have a new fantasy about things you’d love to do to him. Was it wrong to fantasize about what his hands could do other than dribble a basketball?

“Good morning, Y/N.” She sat down in her leather office chair, scooting along until she found a comfortable position. Her tone was firm yet extremely polite. Most principals were intimidating and loathed by students, while Principal Yoon was approachable and kind. The students of Neo Tech adored her and her methods of running the school.

“Good morning, Mark. I’m sure you’re both wondering why I called you in, and I can assure you that it’s nothing of concern.” She held a manila colored folder in one hand before opening it and examining the paper in front of her. The both of you sat a bit uneasily, wondering what could’ve possibly landed you in this predicament. 

“Mr. Lee, your basketball skills are outstanding.” Immediately, Mark began rambling about his appreciation for her comment until her voice interrupted him. “Yes, well, the reason I called you both in has to do with that actually… You see, Mark, your last school was a bit behind in comparison to our curriculum here, and without the proper grades you won’t be able to be an active team member.”

Mark could’ve sworn he heard his heart drop. The whole reason he transferred to your school was that his tier-1 team was becoming mediocre at best. In order to stay on track with his plan of obtaining an athletic scholarship, he needed to choose the best of the best. And that’s what led him to your school, which currently holds the number one spot in the nation amongst all the tier-1 teams.

“That’s why I’ve brought Y/N in as well. It was brought to my attention that you two share more than half your classes together, and I’m well aware of how advanced she is in all subjects. So, to put it frankly, I’m going to suggest that you two become acquaintances. Of course, the final decision would be up to Y/N, but I’m hoping that both of you might benefit from this opportunity.”

Mark couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed about how Principal Yoon pressed the issue. It was bad enough that his old school had a less advanced curriculum; and to make matters worse, his tutor just had to be the prettiest girl he’s seen. The way you dressed, especially, drove him crazy. Your sheer black tights underneath your plaid skirt, with your skin-tight, off-the-shoulder top that exposed your collarbones. He gulped at the very thought of what was underneath those clothes. How was he supposed to focus when he wanted to study his tutor more than the material?

“I would be happy to help,” You answered, mindlessly sneaking a glance at the boy next to you. His gaze seemed to be set on the ground, looking at anything but you. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to add ‘tutor’ to my resume.”

Principal Yoon smiled in response, setting the folder down on her desk before gently lifting her glasses off her face. She was pretty young to be a principal, couldn’t be a day over thirty. It was one of the things that made her so approachable, she seemed to sympathize with the lives of students because she was in their place not too long ago.

“Well, then it’s settled.”

You strained yourself trying to hide the smirk forming on your face, finally allowing yourself to steal a look at the golden boy once again. He seemed flustered, as per usual, and still didn’t dare to look you in the eye. He seemed so innocent, yet so ready to be corrupted. The excitement bubbled deep within your stomach at the thought of how much time you’d really need to spend with him in order to get him caught up. And boy did you hope you had extra time for other activities.

Without a word, you rose from your seat to offer a ‘goodbye’ to your principal and sauntered out of her office. Mark fumbled to get up, hurriedly saying goodbye to Principal Yoon before he rushed after you. At the sound of his footsteps, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. This will be fun.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You hummed in response, then turned on your heel to face him. He was breathing a little raggedly, but you knew it was from nerves because there was no way someone as athletic as him would be out-of-breath from a short jog. 

“I- I was wondering when you’d be available…” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying his hardest to sound anything but stupid. You waited for him to go on as he stared back at you but quickly caught himself. “Y’know, for the tutoring.”

Your smile almost made his breath hitch but he ignored the pounding on his chest and found the courage to keep eye contact with you. He regretted it as soon as it happened because he damn-near whimpered at the beauty in front of him. Your lips, a faint rose color, were glossy and plump. He imagined how they’d feel pressed against his, and against other body parts alike.

“How about we do an evaluation of sorts at the library this afternoon? This way I can see how behind you are and how much time I’d need to get you in shape. I wouldn’t want you missing the opening game.” You winked, and Mark found himself gulping down nothing in another attempt to calm himself.

“Y-Yeah, that sounds good,” He replied and waited for you two walk away first because he couldn’t quite will his feet to move.

The end of the day seemed to have come much too quickly for Mark’s liking. Of course, he was itching at the chance to get to know you, but even he knew his nervous habits. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in the midst of his first impression.

Mark made his way to the library like you had told him to, and he easily found you at one of the tables towards the back of the room. You had books laid out in front of you, with worksheets accompanying them.

“Hey, so I was thinking we could start by evaluating your trig skills and then get into some science. Does that sound good?” It felt like an eternity before you finally looked up to find him sitting directly across from you at the table. He nodded softly as you pushed over the first worksheet. While he diligently started scribbling across the paper, you had nothing to do other than watch him. You picked up on a few things in a short amount of time: math seemed to frustrate him. When faced with a particularly difficult problem, he would huff in annoyance. Nonetheless, he would complete it before moving onto the next one with a scrunched-up nose. It was incredibly cute and you couldn’t help the smile that found its way to your lips.

“Okay, I think I’m done.” He pushed the paper back to you before bringing his hands down into his lap, nervously toying with his fingers. He then brought his bottom lip in between his teeth, chewing delicately. You tried not to react, instead turning your attention to analyze his answers. Did he know what he was doing to you? After looking through all the questions, you tsked.

“Your trig teacher must’ve sucked.” You adjusted your sitting position so that the paper would be visible to the both of you. “For number four, you need to use the quadratic formula- which is X equals negative B plus or minus the square root of B squared minus 4 times A times C. Then you divide the whole thing by 2 times A.”

Mark tried to keep up with you as you explained, but his mind was way too focused on how good you looked while concentrating. On top of that, math was never his strong suit. He had always struggled since the moment variables were introduced into his lessons. Memorizing the quadratic formula was all too difficult when the explanation was coming from that pretty mouth of yours, he thought.

“B…? Wait where is the X comin-”

“Mark.” You interrupted, trying to the best of your ability to keep the smile creeping up on you at bay. The way his name rolled off your tongue so naturally enticed him. “I can already tell that you’re about two months behind with the trig curriculum. That alone will take me at least two weeks to catch you up on, and that’s if we meet practically every day.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Mark answers weakly, his eyes retreating down to the desk below him. Immediately, your demeanor softens at his vulnerability. “I know this probably isn’t how you’d like to spend your free time. I’ll find another way to catch up, I’m sure-”

“Hey. I said it would be a lot of work, I didn’t say I don’t want to tutor you. Luckily for you, I’m pretty much free this semester anyway. Now, the issue is if you are willing to put in the work.”

Oh, was he willing.

[two days later]

“So, after school at the cafe?” You ask, grabbing your books from your locker and securing them in one arm. The tutoring sessions would have to be extremely consistent to make any noticeable progress before the school’s opening games. They were a big deal within Neo Tech’s school community, and the pressure was on to see how the new point guard would compare to all the hype.

“Yeah, if that’s fine with you,” He murmurs before eyeing the small stack of books and papers cradled in your arm. Naturally, he feels the need to take that burden off your hands. After all, you would be the reason he even gets to play this season. Without you, it’s unlikely he would’ve caught up in time to make a good impression on Neo Tech and other schools alike. “Let me carry your books for you.”

“You don’t have to,” You insist, moving slightly so the books are a bit more out of reach. Mark pouts in response, leaning forward again in another attempt to grab the materials. He succeeds this time, his hand slipping around the stack and drawing them away from you. “Persistent, huh?”

“Guess you could say that.” He chuckles, wrapping the books in his arm just as you had done. This is the only plan he thought of to spend time with you outside of a studying environment, but he hopes you don’t notice these intentions. “We have class together anyway.”

“And where are your books?” You raise on eyebrow questioningly, beginning to walk with him beside you. History was never your favorite class, but you stayed on top of the work anyway. It was easier, you realized very early on, to get the work out of the way so you’d have more time for studying and other extracurricular activities.

“I leave them in my desk.” He shrugs, looking over to see you smiling widely. The baby pink color that takes over the apples of his cheeks is extremely obvious, but you don’t comment on it. Seeing Mark flustered is cute, you determined as soon as you had met him.

As the two of you walk through the large doorway of your history classroom, bubbly conversation fills the air. Your teacher, Miss Han, sits perched on her desk patiently. She was a nice lady, but it didn’t change the universal distaste for history among your class.

“Well, uh- I guess I’ll see you at the cafe.” Mark sets your books down on your usual desk quickly, scurrying to find his seat among some of the other basketball players that had this period with him. You recognize one of them as Hendery, a friendly acquaintance due to all the classes you two shared last year.

“I see you, Mark.” Hendery’s eyebrows raise in a teasing matter, shoulder bumping the boy next to him. Mark stares back at him, confused as to what he meant. “You carrying Y/N’s books.”

The explanation causes Mark’s blush to reappear, the heat becoming warmer and warmer upon his flesh. Hendery is one of the only guys on the team that he’s fairly close with, yet he still didn’t feel ready to tell him about his little crush.

“It was nothing, really. She’s tutoring me and I thought- why not?” He tries desperately to make his response seem nonchalant, but the act he puts on is no match for his flushed cheeks. Hendery, with one brow raised, eyes Mark’s cheeks. “Okay, maybe I think she’s kinda cute.”

“Bullshit! You like her!” He accuses in a whisper-shout type of voice. Mark groans in response, softly hitting his shoulder with a closed fist. A cackle leaves Hendery’s lips, his hand coming up to muffle the sound. “Dude, just ask her out! You’d be a very lucky guy.”

“I can’t just ask her out!” It comes out as a high-pitched shriek. “It’s not that simple. I mean, it is that simple. But what if she says no? Then I’ll have to deal with rejection and seeing her every day for our study sessions and-”

“Mark, you’re way too worried. Do you want me to talk to her? Find out some dirt? We had a few classes together last year-”

“N-No! That’s too obvious!” His voice sounds so exasperated by now, Hendery is afraid he’ll pass out. Talking with his hands is a nervous habit that happens when he’s rambling, and right now is no exception. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, dude.”

“Better hurry before someone else beats you to it.” At this, Mark’s head snaps in Hendery’s direction. Before he can even formulate a proper response, Miss Han clears her throat and silence falls upon the whole classroom. Throughout the lesson, though, Hendery’s words echo in Mark’s head. What did he mean by that?

“One iced americano and one green tea please.” Mark pulls out his wallet before you have time to protest, and by the time your mouth opens to say something, his receipt is already printed. You didn’t expect him to order for you when he asked what you liked from this shop. Oblivious, he turns to you and stops in his tracks when he sees your surprised expression. “Huh?”

“You didn’t have to pay for me.” Your voice is firm but you’re grinning over at him, ignoring the way your whole body feels warm because of his display of generosity. Buying drinks shouldn’t be such a big deal, you remind yourself. “I owe you a lot now- carrying my books and now coffee.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugs, before examining the shop to find the best seats. He decides on the small table in the corner, shuffling towards the spot silently. Your brows furrow at his response, hoping for something a bit more engaging in terms of conversation but realizing that Mark wasn’t quite good at conversing in general. At least, around you, he didn’t seem to be.

The cafe became a regular stop before your tutoring sessions, the two of you eventually decide that the library was a better spot for studying. So, almost every day after school, you two would rush over there to pick up your usual orders before racing back to the library. Most of the private rooms filled up after dismissal, so you two always made it a point to manage your time efficiently. Coffee runs and then studying- that was your routine.

You had hoped to test the waters with some flirting, but your efforts seemed to go unnoticed. And when they didn’t, Mark would be a nervous wreck in response. You wondered if you should try your luck outside of your study sessions, but you didn’t have many opportunities since he sat nowhere near you during your shared classes. Study sessions and coffee runs seemed to be your only options.

On numerous occasion, Mark would slip his wallet out and pay for your coffee without a second thought. These events would result in a whole lot of whining on your part, always arguing that you should treat him once in a while too. He liked the idea of spoiling you, he wanted to say, though the invisible filter that was stuck in his throat never allowed him such a luxury.

Plus, the look on your face was equally as cute as your whines. Although you tried to be angry, the lopsided grin that always appeared made Mark’s stomach do flips. How was it possible to be that effortlessly pretty? It would take the nation’s top philosopher, Mark thought, to figure that one out.

“Mark!” You call, jogging over to his locker where he stands, putting his books away. He focuses on not being a clumsy mess then looks over at you, spending extra time admiring your all-black outfit: leggings and a v-neck. He forces his eyes not to travel south of your face, instead putting on a small smile. “I was wondering where you think we should study? The library is gonna be closed for a staff meeting today.”

Without thinking anything through, Mark immediately answers with, “Actually, my parents are out of town this week. We can study at mine if you want.”

Fuck. His eyes widen at his own words as soon as they come out. You can’t help but be surprised too, but your shock quickly turns into something much less decent. At this point, you’re dying to get your hands on him. You know that if you two have your study-session today, you’ll jump his bones the minute his hand so much as grazes yours.

“Oh, okay. Cool. So I’ll meet you after 8th,” You conclude with your voice sounding like pure honey to Mark. As you turn and walk away, Mark is unsurprisingly staring at your figure in those damn leggings. He wonders how much thought you put into your outfit, if you’re wearing it on purpose to torture him. He shakes the thoughts out of his head when he feels excitement course through his veins and towards the southern region of his body. No way is he going to get a boner now. Demanding his attention elsewhere, he rips his eyes away from you and tries to think of anything but how good your ass looks.

P.E. was always Mark’s favorite class. For most of his life, his Phys. Ed teachers had consistently been carefree and maybe a bit lazy. Their go-to lesson plan comprised of a few laps around the gym and then free-choice sports. Most of the girls opted for volleyball and badminton while almost every single boy could be found on the basketball court in the midst of a friendly scrimmage. Today is no different from the rest of those times.

Mark enjoys the friendly competition but easily leads his team to a win. He has gym with some of the other guys on Neo Tech’s basketball team, and it was easy to see how well he’d fit in with the pace of the other guys. At his old school, it always felt like he was being held back. He had to slow down his plays and examine the court thoroughly before he was able to make a proper judgment of his next move. With the Neo boys, everything seemed to come naturally.

He was able to gauge each player’s strengths and weaknesses fairly quickly too. For example, Hendery was a great shooter under pressure. When he gets boxed in by other defenders, that’s when his shooting is the most precise. So with that in mind, Mark always looks for Hendery when he notices that the opposing team’s defense is particularly aggressive that day. His judgments haven’t failed him thus far, with today’s scrimmage resulting in another win that should go down in the books.

Basketball was something that came easily to Mark his whole life. Talking to girls though? Not as much. He excelled on the court, took the lead and kept a risky attitude with unexpected plays and passes. He fits in well with Neo Tech’s strategy and game style. Plus, the guys on the Neo Tech basketball team were quick to befriend him and make him feel right at home. That is, of course, until he overhears one of his teammates, Lucas, talking to another teammate in the locker room as he begins to pack up his stuff after their particularly long scrimmage.

“Bro, are you really gonna shoot your shot with Y/N?” The other one- Xiaojun, he thinks- asks the taller boy. Lucas shrugs a little, folding his gym clothes neatly before placing the pile back in his locker. He’s not wearing a shirt, and Mark can’t hide the feeling of insecurity that seeps into his veins. Mark’s never been as built as that, but he never thought much of it until now.

“I mean, probably. She usually comes to our games, right?” He looks back at Xiaojun, eyebrows raised. The boy nods back slowly, a look of uncertainty on his face. “She’s so hot, especially in that one skirt she always wears.”

Mark’s jaw tenses and his whole body becomes rigid before he can calm himself down. He knows, in his mind, that he doesn’t technically have a right to feel possessive. He hasn’t made a move, so who was he to stop Lucas’s plans? This thought doesn’t stop him, however, from feeling the sudden urge to punch Lucas in his pretty face. It annoys him that all Lucas has to say about you is ‘She’s hot.’ To Mark, you were so much more. 

He loves the way you insist on helping him and accept nothing less than 100% effort on work. He loves how you smile proudly at him when he finishes his worksheets with no errors, how you blush every time he pays for your coffee before a study session, how you always find a way to get something done if you commit to it, how you genuinely care about how his day went when no one else seems to ask. You’re more to him than a nice body in a short skirt. Much, much more.

Hendery notices his tense shoulders and pensive facial expression, quickly grabbing the shirt that was draped over his shoulder and sending a soft wack to Mark’s back. This seems to do the trick, his face softening when he realizes it was Hendery who hit him.

“Ignore them,” Hendery orders, folding the shirt in his hands and placing it back in his locker. He’s friends with both Lucas and Mark, but he can tell how much Mark likes you. Lucas’s crush would pass with time, it was a never-ending cycle with that one. “Lucas isn’t her type, trust me. And if you’re so worried, make your move.”

This time, Mark realizes that Hendery is all too right. He needs to do something-anything, before it’s too late.

Yet again, the end of the day comes too quickly for Mark to process. He blankly shuffles out of the lab room and is taken by surprise when he sees you leaning against the wall opposite the doorway. You push yourself off the wall when you spot him, and take into account how good he looks when he’s out of it. It makes you wonder how he’ll look when he’s all fucked out and-

“Ready?” Mark interrupts your thoughts. Instead of saying anything, because you don’t trust your voice at this point, you simply nod and begin pacing your walk so you’ll be shoulder-to-shoulder. Your shoulder brushes against his occasionally, but neither of you shows any sign of being bothered by it.

The car ride is full of thick tension and utter silence aside from the soft hum of the radio. Mark’s grip on the wheel is tighter than he’s used to but he can’t help it. He can feel your eyes on him, his skin beginning to warm underneath his usual basketball shorts and a loose tee. You study him shamelessly: the veins of his arms that bulge occasionally when he shifts the wheel one way and the other, his habit of biting his lower lip when the car in front of him drives too slow, and the simple things like the contour of his jawline.

He pulls into a driveway and you aren’t surprised by how lavish his house is. His mother and father are both high-ups in some big company, as Mark had put it. They take business trips often but still find time for their beloved son, while his older brother is away at the number one university in the country. One might ask why Mark needs an athletic scholarship if his parents have so much money. He thinks of it more as a pride thing. His father, before becoming a businessman, was also on an athletic scholarship for soccer. His older brother has one for baseball while he studies Marketing and International Finance. Sports scholarships were almost like a family heirloom for the Lee’s, along with a business degree.

He jumps out of his seat, closing the door behind him before rushing to the passenger side to open the door for you. Under normal circumstances, you might’ve blushed. But with Mark, you know you have to be the confident one between the both of you. No matter how flustered his smiles make you and how weak in the knees his deep voice makes you, you force yourself to put on a bold front.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Mark snorts as he leads you through the foyer to the carpet-clad staircase. Humble was one way to put it. The whole interior has a simple, all-white color scheme. Upholstered leather loveseats were positioned neatly down the halls, with minimalistic tables to match. You let yourself take in your surroundings as both of you walk through the maze of his house towards what you presume will be his bedroom. Your guess is right; he stops in front of a white-painted wooden door and opens it just a bit to peek inside and make sure nothing was out of place. He breathes a sigh of relief that he decided to move anything remotely embarrassing to his walk-in closet as soon as he started his new school. Opening the door wider so that you could enter, you step in hesitantly and watch a little too intently at Mark closing the door firmly behind him.

His room is somehow exactly how you pictured it; a light blue color paints the walls. His full-sized bed leans against one wall, with posters of his favorite movies hovering above the headboard.

“Shit, I just realized that my desk-” You glance behind you, seeing his computer which took up most of the space that the desk had to offer and the somewhat large gaming chair that was tucked comfortably underneath said desk. Almost thanking fate for throwing this curveball in your favor, you just smile reassuringly at him.

“It’s fine, Mark. We can study on your bed.” Mark’s eyes widen suddenly and you realize that you probably gave him too much to process at once. “Or the floor, that’s fine too.”

“N-No! I mean- whatever’s more comfortable,” He manages to stutter out. Mentally, Mark would have said something spicy just to see you blush. However, in reality, Mark just couldn’t muster up the courage to openly flirt like that. His lack of confidence had posed many obstacles for him over the years. It seemed the one place he was truly confident was on the court.

“Well, it’s your room so I’ll sit wherever you sit.”

He nods once before setting his backpack at the foot of the bed and jumping back onto the soft mattress. Scooting up towards the headboard, he waits for you to do the same. You ignore the excitement that bubbles knowing his eyes are on you, and take a seat next to him with your bag still in hand.

“So uh- what are we gonna start with today?” Mark tries so hard not to seem phased by having a girl like you in his bed, but his patience is wearing thin and he can only blame himself. Maybe if he just made a move…

“We always start with trig.” You furrow your brows in confusion because it’s become a set routine already. Trig was always first because that was the subject he was most behind in. English was obviously not a problem for him and in terms of science, he was just behind with lab work that he could complete in school. “Then, we brush up on some science. I don’t really think you need it, though. You’re almost caught up with your lab work.”

“Oh, yeah. Right, of course.” He has to physically focus on not rambling or he’d be a mess all over. Of course, you know this by now. And while his shy and awkward demeanor is definitely adorable, it also makes you hesitate to try anything with him. After all, what are the chances of the shy boy in front of you gripping you up only to have his way with you?

Mark begins working on the sheets you give him almost as soon as you hand them over, eager to complete the work and somehow finesse his way into spending more time with you. He was being dumb, Hendery would continuously tell him. He should just go for it, because with a tutor ‘as hot as Y/N,’ why wouldn’t he? His lack of confidence makes him want to pull his hair from the roots, but he resists the urge and silently completes the worksheets. He double-checks all of his work carefully so that no time will be wasted in going over stupid mistakes. With a sigh of relief, Mark hands the papers over to you and looks up at you nervously. You always look so stoic when analyzing his answers, it intimidates him yet also lights a spark of excitement at the same time.

“Well done. There were no errors, just make sure you remember to show your work because the question requires-”

“Y/N?” Your name slips out of his mouth before he realizes it. You fall silent, eyes lifting to meet his dark brown ones. “Um… Can we maybe t-take the day off? I think I’d rather be doing almost anything other than trig right now.”

You don’t expect this question, because he’s never asked for a break. It was always about him being up to date with the curriculum so he’d be able to be part of the starting five. What you also don’t expect is for his eyes to flicker, very briefly, to the exposed skin of your upper body. There’s only a bit of cleavage showing, and a peek of your collarbones visible from certain angles. Suddenly, you realize that the time for making a move is now. And you can’t pass up the opportunity.

“What did you have in mind?” Your voice dripping like honey in the air. Slowly, you push the papers and books away from you and they hit the carpeted floor with a light thud. Mark gulps, finding his mouth dry when his mind goes blank with what to say next. Come on, Mark. Keep it together.

Instead of saying anything that might ruin the moment, he simply mimics you and pushes the books off his lap and onto the floor. When he turns back to face you, he’s met with your challenging gaze and he can’t help himself as he leans towards you without any doubt in his mind.

Your noses brush against each other, his face so close that you could feel every minty breath he lets out. You know what’s about to happen, and you no longer have the patience to delay it any further. Mark’s hesitant ways, while sweet and gentlemanly, drive you to the brink of insanity. And so, with a deep breath, your hand lifts to pull his face to yours. Your lips softly press to his, letting him process the fact that you’re actually kissing him before you grow impatient. Feverishly, you move your mouth against his. Mark swears he’s in heaven when he slowly opens his mouth a bit wider and your tongue automatically swipes against his. He’s been waiting for this moment- to feel your lips against his, to taste you in more ways than one. He needs it all, right now.

“Y/N,” He separates from you to breathe out your name. You practically bite back a moan, humming in response while his hands grab your waist. You expect him to say something, but he just kisses you again with more confidence than before. As he slowly leans back against the headboard, you follow him absentmindedly, simply chasing the heat of his lips against yours. You’re straddling him now, his hands moving to grip your ass cheeks with greed. The force makes you roll your hips in response, grinding down onto him unintentionally which makes Mark’s breath hitch.

You experiment, repeating the movement and pulling away from him only to see his reaction. His eyes are focused on the movements of your hips above his, concentration straining his face. After flipping your hair to one side, you continue your slow torture and lean down to kiss the spot below his ear. With his hands firmly clasping around your hips, you suck at his supple skin and lick over the spot when you’re done. By now, his breathing is a little heavy and uneven as his erection pressed against your clothed core. You feel him against you, his basketball shorts doing little to conceal his excitement.

“You’re driving me crazy,” He whispers as he drops his head to the crook of your neck, his breath tickling you slightly. You relish in knowing that the feeling is mutual. With every huffed-out breath, every soft kiss on your skin, you only become more reassured that you want this- and it makes it all the more worth it knowing that he wants this too.

You break the kiss to rid yourself of your t-shirt, the material on your warm body frustrating you a bit more than you’d like to admit. As you meet his eyes again- they’re filled with a hunger that causes your stomach to clench and arousal to pool within the confines of your panties- you can’t help the absolute urgency you feel to make him putty in your hands. So instead of kissing him again, you play with the hem of his loose tee, letting your hands graze over the skin of his abdomen. He hesitates, remembering the locker room fiasco with Lucas and suddenly he feels that insecurity itching at his skin again. He isn’t extremely built, his athletic body on the more slender side, but you don’t mind at all. 

From his demeanor, you can already deduce what’s bothering him. You press a sweet kiss to his lips, almost silently telling him that you liked him just as he is. A kilowatt smile lights up his face, and your cool hands against his heated skin make him grab at the material to discard it himself. He stares up at you, waiting for your next move because quite frankly, he likes you in control.

“These too,” You order, pointing at his basketball shorts. Mark is quick to shimmy them off of his body, leaving only his boxers to conceal the length of his cock from your eyesight, though the bulge is very much prominent. You debate whether or not to fuck him then and there, but decide that having him writhing from your mouth alone would satisfy you more.

With a quick motion, you bring your lips down to the skin above the waistband of his boxers. He twitches slightly at the contact, and then feels your nails gently rake against his sides. He’s much too sensitive to your touch, and it almost scares him. How could you have so much power over him? Maybe it’s the way your plump lips push against his skin so confidently, how your eyes find his without a second thought. He envies your confidence, but he also finds it unbelievably addicting to have such control taken away from him.

Mark isn’t a virgin. But he also isn’t very experienced. His past sexual encounters were vanilla, with him hesitantly taking control because his girlfriends always expected such. His first time was awkward at best, his hips didn’t quite know how to fluidly move nor did his tongue know how to expertly flick against hers. He did get a bit better as time went on, or so he likes to think. But he feels so foreign to sex with you.

It might be because you seem so opposite of him- in terms of how easily everything comes to you. However, he doesn’t find it in him to assume anything about your sex life, because he doesn’t particularly care. He ignores any thoughts of how many guys you’ve been with or if they’d be better than him, because as your hands slowly pull his boxers down, he’s content with knowing all you’re thinking about is him, at this moment.

You hum pleasantly at the sight of his length free from its confines, a small bead of precum ready to drip from the head. Much to your surprise, your mouth salivates on its own at the sight. You stroke him twice in your small hand, before your spit comes down on the side of his dick. He watches you in awe as you slide him into your mouth without hesitation, your tongue running along the underside of his length. A guttural groan emits from the awestruck boy before he can stop himself, much to his dismay. It would make you grin if your mouth wasn’t preoccupied.

You begin to slowly, tentatively bob your head up and down on him as your hand twists up to meet your mouth. You look at him expectantly for his response, and it doesn’t disappoint. His hands fly to your head, fingertips smoothing over your scalp while he sucks in a harsh breath. His mouth drops open soon after, the warm and slick tunnel of your mouth proving to be quite the pleaser. 

He feels nervous under your stare once again, but he certainly can’t look away from the sight before him. With your plump, infamously glossy lips wrapped around the tip of his dick and your tongue sliding obscenely over the slit. He wants to memorize every detail of the picture painted for him, so he stares at you and forces himself not to look away. He sees everything: the way you blink slowly as you take him further into your mouth, the way you search his face for reassurance that you’re making him feel good, the way you twist your wrist in an almost tortuous way that feels so, so good.

“Fuck, I need to feel you.” He gently, regretfully pulls your head away from his crotch. Your mouth detaches from his cock with a quiet popping sound, a string of spit connecting his dick to your bottom lip. Your mouth is tinted red and a little swollen, a bit of spit still left on the side of your mouth. Even so, Mark still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. 

He decides that, eventually, he’ll ask you out. The turn of events today is unexpected and definitely not what he had in mind, but he’s in too deep to put a stop to it now. He wonders if he fucked up his chances by going along with this, if you’d reject him because of the irony of him asking you out after he’s had his way with you. He swallows the nervous feeling that is rooted deep in his chest and stems out to the entirety of his body, pushes it aside to deal with later.

You undress quicker than Mark can process his thoughts, and for the first time since you’ve met him, your confidence wavers. Confidence was always something that came and went for you- the brave front you had put on didn’t quite prepare you for feeling Mark’s hungry eyes all over every inch of your body.

“Y/N- you’re so beautiful.” He motions you to get on top of him again, and you comply shyly. He kisses your lips once, then your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder. All until you’re smiling so wide that you feel a pinch of pain in your cheeks. Mark Lee definitely owns your heart, no point in denial any more.

“W-Would you want to uh- ride me?” He stutters out clumsily, his hands finding purchase at his sides. This is why he likes that you take control. For one, it’s sexy as hell. For another, it gives him less room to be the nervous mess that he usually is. 

At his question, your demeanor changes from a slightly nervous girl feeling so bare underneath his gaze to something even you didn’t know you had in you. You can feel your arousal as you slowly move closer to him, your thighs on either side of his. His boxers are still hanging just below his knees and he hurriedly kicks them off all the way.

“Condom?” You ask, eyes searching around his bedside but to no avail. Mark fumbles a bit, keeping one hand around your waist securely while the other rummages through the bottom drawer of his nightstand. After finally locating the box of condoms his mom insisted on giving him during freshman year, he pulls the foil packaging into sight. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his hands make work to slide it securely over his length, but his desire is clouding his judgment more than he expected.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His voice is a bit breathless as he carefully tucks some of your hair behind your ear. The action makes your face warm and quite possibly your heart. But you don’t admit that. Instead, you nod curtly before pressing a reassuring kiss to his lips. Without skipping a beat, you take hold of his cock and align it at your entrance. You run the head back and forth between your folds, but realize you’re only putting yourself through further cruelty with every second that passes with no relief to the throbbing of your core.

So without warning, you sink down on him at a painfully slow pace. Your slick folds welcome the stretch of his girth, the very feeling of him making you shiver with sensitivity. Mark looks down to where his dick is being swallowed by your core, finding it harder and harder to hold on to his sanity as you sink further down on him. You let out a soft, delicate moan when you feel him fill you up completely, and Mark swears he could cum just from hearing those angelic sounds. He then decides, if you two do this again, he’ll fuck you into his mattress until you’re crumbling at the seams because of him.

“Shit,” He mutters under his breath when you start bouncing on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin proves to be quite the soundtrack as you desperately grip his shoulders. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle the screams of pleasure just aching to come out. Your moans come out in whimpers when Mark uses his thumb to draw figure 8’s on your clit. He’s biting his bottom lip, his facial muscles strained between a fucked-out state and a concentrated one.

“Such a good boy,” You muse lightly without even thinking. Your voice mumbling such praise causes Mark to gulp, and he’s strangely even more turned on. Then again, you’d been awakening emotions and sensations that Mark hasn’t quite felt before, didn’t even know were possible. On your side, you’ve never tried much dirty talk during sex, but for Mark, you were willing to try. You can tell he likes it by the way his grip on your hips tightens and his breathing becomes heavier. And so, as he pants and groans softly next to your ear, your pace turns merciless. You bounce on him with an unrelenting pace and he knows you won’t stop until he cums, hard.

“Oh fuck. Oh shit.” Profanities spill from his mouth, his eyes screwing shut intently at how good the friction between your folds was. He forces himself to continue rubbing circles into your clit, albeit a bit sloppy, but circles nonetheless. You’re only more motivated by his lewd sounds, feeling your walls clench even tighter around his throbbing cock. The sensation causes an idea to form in your head, and you decide that his reaction will be the most satisfying part.

“Feels so good. Are you close?” Innocence laces your voice as you grab his hand and guide it to one of your breasts. Watching as he instinctively grabs it greedily in his palm, you notice how hot his fingers look wrapped around your flesh which only fuels your idea. Mark nods eagerly at your question, his breathy pants coming out shorter, more frequent, and sinful enough to make your head spin.

Abruptly, you begin rolling your hips against him rather than bouncing, causing him to look up at you. Then, you grab his hand again and bring it to your throat, making him wrap his fingers around the width of your neck slowly. Mark’s mouth drops open a second time this afternoon, feeling his hand tenderly squeeze around your neck. Your breathing becomes a bit restricted, but not enough to cause any discomfort. The force only makes your eyes roll back, while Mark turns to putty underneath you. After a few seconds, he releases his hold and brings his hand down to knead your ass, whispering something about how good you feel. Despite his seeming increase of confidence, all that Mark is thinking about is the power trip he got from choking you. Holy fuck, did that really happen?

“Gonna cum now, baby?” You force the question out when you feel him begin to pulse inside of you, leaning down to suck on the skin where his shoulder and neck meet and then licking your way up to just below his ear. Gently and carefully, you take his earlobe between your teeth and pull away slowly. Mark, by now, is a writhing mess underneath you. He can no longer contain his sounds nor his desperation to climax, bucking his hips up to meet yours. The combination of his thumb running over your clit repeatedly and his dick hitting just the right spot has a white-hot pleasure burning through your entire body. “Mmph- Mark!”

“Fuck! I’m g- gonna cum,” He yelps when he hears you moan his name, his thumb’s movement over your clit becoming rougher, sloppier by the second. He gives up on trying to thrust up into you, instead letting you ride him with an almost animalistic nature. His face scrunches up, a choked groan falling from his open mouth as he feels his climax course through his entire body. His seed fills up the condom, the sensation of release so utterly euphoric that Mark isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this good. Your pace on his dick slows before coming to a complete stop, breathing heavily and feeling so out of it even without an orgasm.

“Lay down, beautiful,” He rasps out, moving from his position and running his hand along your thigh delicately. His half-lidded eyes meet yours before you obey his command, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed with your head resting comfortably on one of the pillows. Mark hovers over you, pressing affectionate kisses all over your upper body before traveling lower. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Mark admits shyly, sucking on the skin of your inner thigh before repeating the action to the other one. As he licks a stripe up from your dripping core to your clit, you feel a shiver run all the way up your body. Noticing your reaction, he sucks your clit into his mouth and rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud. Your drawn out moan tells him he’s doing something right, so he continues to flick his tongue over the bundle of nerves while he looks up to see your face.

“Shit! More, p- please.” Your pleads leave his ears red and his mouth watering, his tongue moving to slide between your folds with a soft moan. The vibration combined with his tongue darting in and out of you languidly makes you see stars at this point. “Oh my god- are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

He chuckles lightly, seeing your brows furrow in concentration as he forces his tongue to fuck your core faster and faster. One of his hands comes down to rub over your clit, your juices creating a squelching noise every time his tongue moved inside of you. Mark swears he’s never felt more proud when your hand comes down to grip at his hair, pushing his face further into you just as your thighs clench around his head.

“You’re so wet,” Mark praises before going back to thrusting his tongue between your folds. The taste makes him hum, vibration spreading through your lower region and making you whimper in satisfaction. Mark’s a quick learner, you see, when he continues to hum and groan into your pussy as his finger circles your clit consistently. “Cum, baby.”

You give in to his command, letting yourself fall apart at the seams underneath his mouth. Your pussy throbs around his tongue as you ride out your orgasm, a moan caught in your throat as your mouth hangs open in an ‘O.’ Mark happily laps up your juices, diligently downing every last drop before collapsing on the mattress next to you.

“Wow,” He remarks in awe, peering at you through the corner of his eyes. You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you laugh lightheartedly anyway as you turn your body to face him. A few pieces of hair cling to your forehead, and he delicately pushes them away from your face before caressing the curve of your jaw.

“The game’s coming up,” You comment, your hand toying with the one that wasn’t touching your face. The game was so important to him, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather talk about in this moment. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, yeah of course. A little anxious, but I think that’s normal before a big game.” Basketball might be the one thing he could talk about without a nervous bone in his body. No stuttering, no confusion, just speaking his mind. “Do you like basketball?”

You nod in response, giggling at the face he makes that’s somewhere between surprised and overjoyed. Basketball was something you enjoyed watching and analyzing, especially since it was such a big thing for the students of Neo Tech. Most schools prided themselves on their football team, but not Neo. Basketball had always been like gold.

“What do you think of our starting five? Maybe you can tell me something I haven’t picked up on.”

“Hmm,” You start, fully prepared for the rant that’s about to happen. “Xiaojun is a pretty amazing shooting guard, he almost always knocks down shots whether he’s open or not. Ten can’t be matched when it comes to being a small forward. He’s quick as hell, and I see him use that to his advantage a lot when he’s trying to get open. Hendery- where do I even start? He’s so versatile when it comes to shooting, perimeter shots and jump shots- it doesn’t matter, he can make them all. And his defense skills are crazy, he’s fearless even up against bigger guys. I mean, I guess that’s normal among power forwards but-”

Mark zones out a bit as he prepares for you to talk about Lucas. What were you going to say? Would your eyes light up when talking about him? Would you gush about how good he was? He hopes not, especially not after what just happened.

“Lucas is a good choice for center. He’s tall, so it makes sense that he’s the best at rebounds. His shooting ability is fairly decent, but he needs work on his passing in my opinion.” He’s surprised to see that you keep your comments completely analytical, not even blinking an eye as you continue your commentary. If Mark liked you a lot before, hearing you talk about basketball has him on the verge of calling out for cupid.

“And you-” Mark’s ears twitch, his attention completely and utterly focused on you. Had you seen videos of him playing at his old school? He dreads the thought, knowing that he wasn’t playing to his full potential back then. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see this Friday.”

“Is it too early to say ‘marry me?’“ He jokes, and both of you laugh. Secretly, though, you wish he had been more direct from the beginning. Seeing him with his newfound confidence is even more attractive than seeing him flustered. You wonder what today will bring of your relationship, but decide to wait and bring it up after his big game. He needs a clear head, and so do you if you want to see him perform to the best of his abilities on game night.

[game night]

You aren’t disappointed in the least bit, savoring every minute of the game and concentrating on how good Mark is. His position was always point guard, and now you understand why. He has a certain talent, it’s not technical. Sure, he’s a great shooter and he’s ruthless with defense. But more importantly, he facilitates the team in a way that makes all of the players better. He plays using their strengths, knowing exactly who to look for in any given situation rather than making himself the star.

He leads the team flawlessly, and you’re sure everyone feels it too. The momentum the five boys build up in the first half is too strong for the other team to compete with. By the time half-time is up, it’s clear that Neo Tech will come out on top. There’s a certain feeling lingering in the air as the coach switches out Ten and Hendery for Yangyang and Jungwoo. No matter what the coach does, who switches out, the outcome is secured.

Despite how certain victory is, it doesn’t stop everyone holding their breath as the shot clock winds down to its final seconds and Mark steps back to launch the ball into the air. Everyone is still as the ball seems to move in slow motion, a loud swoosh sound echoing throughout the gym seconds before the final buzzer blares, indicating the end of the game. The crowd is immediately on their feet and cheering, high-fiving and fist-bumping all around.

You’re sitting in the first few rows, so it’s easy to run out onto the court. The school’s sports reporters, Chenle and Jisung, are already holding the microphone towards Mark to record a post-game interview for tomorrow’s newsreel. They only get to ask a few questions, though, before Mark’s eyes are on you.

A bright, proud smile graces your face and Mark is sure he wants to see that same smile every day of his life. You’re standing a few feet away, facing him and the rest of the boys on the team. This reminds him of Lucas’s conversation in the locker room, and he knows that now is no time to be shy.

So, he answers one final question before brushing off the two boys and turning towards you. His walk is confident now, as if he’s done this millions of times before. Now, he stands with you toe-to-toe and he lets his arms wrap around your waist slowly.

If it’s even humanly possible, you push your body closer to his and drape your forearm over his shoulder. His eyes stare directly into yours, the shy boy long gone and replaced with the same courageous Mark that was on the court tonight.

“How’d I do?” He whispers as he leans his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your nose. Everyone on the team is watching, but it doesn’t bother either of you. Instead of answering, you grasp his jaw and press your lips against his. It doesn’t take long for him to respond, his mouth moving against yours slowly and affectionately. You pull away after a few moments, still beaming up at him.

“I guess you finally got together, huh?” Hendery smirks from his spot on the bench beside the two of you, and Mark laughs quietly. Though, Hendery’s statement reminds him that he never did ask you out. His brow quirks upwards when he meets your eyes, the silent question spelled out right in front of you.

“Yeah, we did.” Your answer is what he’s been dying to hear since the moment you walked into Principal Yoon’s office, and it feels even better knowing that he isn’t daydreaming this time. This is real, you returning his feelings- it’s all real. And Mark couldn’t be happier.

“I told you she liked Mark!” Xiaojun throws a victorious, high pitched scream at Lucas as they walk towards the locker room.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Wishing On Stars

So, fun story! Remember that quick one shot I made [Idle Threats] that was not quick at all and featured Deceit punching a guy in the face? Guess who made a sequel!

Word Count: 4958

Pairings: Brotherly Thomas and Deceit

Summary: Dee’s world is shifting and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @felicianoromano @jemthebookworm @holliberries @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @treasureofpriam

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Dante Ethan Ekans has never thought of himself as dumb. It’s simply not something he’s ever allowed himself to consider the possibility of. So what if his grades sucked and he couldn’t even buy a candy bar at the market with his unweighted GPA? So what if he wasn’t in any honors clubs or wearing nerd glasses or correcting his teachers in class? So what if he had never found a grammar error in his textbooks or maxed out his library card (can those be maxed out?)?

Dante Ethan Ekans—ugh just call him Dee—was not, is not, and never will be “dumb”.  He’s fought for his grades and lost, he doesn’t have time to waste on honor clubs, and its not like he needs to give his teachers anymore reasons to hate him. Since when has anyone actually read the textbooks? And he’s never really found a good book that keeps his attention past the third chapter.

But that’s never meant that he was dumb.

And fuck Dr. Logan Ackroyd for making him question that about himself.

Dee leans forward on the rickety structure, pressing his head into his arms into the cool metal bars as he does. He wants to stare up at the stars, wants to bury his head in his arms and sleep, he wants to tear the the packet of papers in his right hand to shreds and then feed it to Dr. Ackroyd with a sneer.

The stars over head twinkle, because that’s all the stars do. Dee had learned at the lovely age of six, no amount of wishing on the stars was going to change how reality had panned out. Stars were just lights in the sky with no ability to bring his dad back or obscure the burn marks on his face. 

The papers crinkle in his hand, like a campfire, like a car crash that once again ruined his life. Or is ruining. Or, perhaps, is in the process of ruining? It feels like it, like everything good and great that Dr. Ackroyd had promised was collapsing on him and suffocating him all over again.

“I know you can do it,” The teacher had said.

And Dee really hates him for it. Really hates Mr. Walker for that car accident he was in and for not coming back, hates Dr. Ackroyd for showing up with his gaze of steel and his stupid ties and his “equality under the law” reign that’s dragged Dee from the cave everyone had exiled him too and let him enjoy a bit of light. 

Sure, Dee can do it. He can also throw himself from the top of this old playground set and fracture his arm or something so he doesn’t have to go back to that stupid room and see that stupid teacher ever again.

The stars blink down at him, and maybe they take pity on the boy who aced Dr. Logan Ackroyd’s midterm test last week, because Dee thinks they look a little less distant than before.

He knows he’s not dumb. He knows that the formal red pen on the test, the long line, the circle and the next long line mean something great and amazing is on the brink of happening. He knows that Dr. Logan Ackroyd is to blame for it, because the man has no time for jokes and no time for nonsense and no time to waste leading Dee astray.

He knows the man means well.

He knows that he hates him for it.

Since when did anyone look at Dee and “mean well”? Since when did any teacher look at him and see something worth believing in? Since when had Dee wanted them to?

Dee knows when: since at exactly nine hours and nineteen minutes ago when Dr. Ackroyd had called him to "please, wait a moment, Mr. Ekans! Its imperative I talk with you." And Dee like a fool (which is completely different from being dumb, thank you very much. Dee very much was a fool), had paused just short of fleeing the classroom.

(Kyle Phillips had shoulder checked his way by him, the healing purples of his black eye just visible under the layer of concealer his mother had applied that morning and he had worn away through the day.)

Dr. Ackroyd had taught up to the bell, or at least he had talked up to the bell. Dee and the rest of the class had stopped paying attention after 2:15. For a terrifying second Dee had felt a cold hand clench his heart and the voices in his head whispered that this was it, the end, Dr. Ackroyd was finished pretending to be nice to him.

"I hope you don't mind if we walk while we talk," Dr. Ackroyd had said (and it most certainly was "Doctor" because the man had snarled something about several PHDs the last time a student had mistakenly called him Mister Ackroyd. To be honest it had been a little hard to make out while the man was foaming at the mouth). Dr. Ackroyd had gathered all of his teaching notes, several stacks of worksheets that needed grading, and his laptop into a bag and pulled it over his shoulder. 

"You have a younger sibling to pick up at Mind Elementary, correct?" The teacher had asked, "I happen to have a colleague I am meeting there as well. To prioritize our time, it would be efficient to talk while we walk.” 

And Dee hadn’t had a reason not to agree so instead he nodded and let the teacher lead the way.

On their way out of the building, they had run into Mr. Hart who had wished them “a wonderful rest of the day, and oh, Logan, text me when you’re both at the restaurant!” Dr. Ackroyd had waved him off with a soft smile and two seperate promises. Dee hadn’t seen any sign of Resource Officer Roman Prince anywhere, and he was silently grateful he didn’t have to watch the adult man sulk because Mr. Hart showered Dr. Ackroyd in love the second he entered any room. Dee had made sure to avoid that growing drama like the plague. It was a soap opera in the making.

They had carefully trekked out of the school building and down the walking path that lead to the student parking lot and then branched off to the sports fields and to the Elementary school. Dee normally tried to procrastinate the walk for a good fifteen minutes to avoid the drivers that like to play chicken with the kid walking on the sidewalk while they waited for the traffic to ease up. But no one would dare try to run him over with the new substitute teacher by his side.

(The rumor was that Dr. Logan Ackroyd could stop a truck moving at 100 miles per hour with just a look, and Dee wasn't immune to propaganda.)

Dee had focused on how nice of a day it had been outside, how the sun was shining so it wasn’t too cold, how the grass peaking out of the cracks in the sidewalk were rather resilient and how many breaths he was taking and was that too many? Was he annoying Dr. Ackroyd? Should he take less? Could he? How important was it for him to breathe?

"Mr. Ekans," the teacher had said, "I'm not exactly one for beating around the bush with these types of things. Patton often tells me I am too blunt, while Roman criticizes my delivery. However, I believe the best way to approach any subject is straight on to avoid deluding you with false pretenses."

Dee had wanted to state the hypocrisy: the teacher rambling on about how he should just say something instead of talking around it. But his heart rate had increased with every word which in turn caused his mouth to dry and his tongue to stick to the roof of his mouth. 

“I finished grading the midterm you took,” Dr. Ackroyd had said.

It had been so much worse than any of the thoughts had been swimming through his mind. His chest tightened, his breath silently disappearing and his lungs refusing to work the way they were supposed to. He had wanted to apologize, had wanted to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk right then and there and safe himself from the embarrassment. He had wanted to avoid the part where Dr. Ackroyd tells him so plainly that he never should have risked his reputation for someone as worthless as Dante Ethan Ekans.

But Dee was only human, only a child, only normal. He stared hard down at the sidewalk at the patches of squashed gum that students had spit out in the past while waiting in traffic, at the tuffs of grass peeking up through the grass, at the loose rocks that his scuffed yellowed shoes tapped against.

“Speaking quite frankly,” the teacher had continued, “I was impressed--”

And Dee had really stopped breathing. His chest had heaved, the gasping word billowed past his lips before he could think to keep it back. “What?”

Dr. Ackroyd had reached up and tentatively adjusted his glasses. “I was relating how impressed I was with your test. As I predicted you are far ahead of your class-- far enough that I put in the request to have you moved up to my higher level class.”

“Wait what--” 

“Additionally, your performance exceeded my expectations. You exemplify more dedication to learning than any other student I have seen in a good three years, Mr. Ekans. I entered your missing work last night and you far exceed the requirement for the Science Honor Society. I took the liberty of reaching out to Mrs. Hydrus on your account--”

“Stop!” Dee had blurted out. His mouth tasted like ash, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his head was still ringing from being completely blindsided by the information he had just been given.

Dr. Ackroyd had paused, taking span of three steps to adjust his glassed once again and peer down at Dee. “Pardon? Is there something the matter?”

It was horribly pretentious when he said it like that. In retrospect, Dee groans into his arms and wishes he could invent time travel solely to go back and stop the two of them from ever meeting, from ever having that conversation, from ever existing. Logically, what the teacher had been saying was amazing news, the news of a lifetime: he had gone out of his way to do things for Dee that no other teacher had done and it honestly hadn’t ever occurred to the doctor that he hadn’t needed to do it at all.

“I can’t,” Dee had told him kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He didn’t elaborate, because it hurt so much to get two words out, he couldn’t imagine getting anymore out. He had wondered absently when he had allowed the rose bush to grow around his own neck, allowed to prickly, pesky thorns to embed themselves in his throat, when those blood red petals that had matched the flushed color of his face.

Dr. Ackroyd had let him walk another ten paces in silence-- as silent as it could get with pop music blasting from the cars stuck in the afterschool traffic and the game of honking that was going on distantly from the parking lot (that Dee was pretty sure Kyle was a part of).

“You can’t,” The teacher repeated, but he hadn’t sounded angry or offended. It had taken a moment for Dee to place the tone: somewhere between confused and curious. “I’m afraid I do not understand. As your teacher, I have assessed your ability and professed that you are certainly capable of keeping up in my honors class, and Vice Principal Joan has already confirmed that your school schedule can be amended around the new class with very little impact on your current learning courses. Additionally, the honors club for science has very few requirements: no more than three unexcused absences-- which you have none of--, at least an eighty-five average in the class-- which you now have a ninety seven--, and--”

“--and a grade point average of 3.0.” Dee had finished for him.

Because it wasn’t like at one point Dee hadn’t been looking into honors clubs. He knew collages looked into club activities, and that most honor clubs had scholarships that came with admittance to said honor clubs. 

“Also, Kyle Phillips,” Dee had said lowly, “is president. He gets the power to veto any applications he doesn’t like.”

It had gone without saying that Kyle and him weren’t on the best of terms. The black eye incident hadn’t even blown over yet and it had been a whole week. When Kyle had found out that Dee hadn’t really been punished for punching him, he had whined to his mom, who in turn showed up at the school and demanded that Dee be expelled.

VP Joan had refused on some grounds or other, and it ended with her threatening to sue the entire school system. VP Joan had calmly told her that she was welcome to take them to court, just let them know the date. She had stormed out of the school.

And so far it looked like she wasn’t really going to push it, but VP Joan had pulled Dee into their office and asked him to lay low for a little bit. 

Dee had dragged a hand through his unruly hair, “I guess it doesn’t help that Mrs. Hydrus doesn’t like me much either.” 

It had gone without saying, again, that it wasn’t just Mrs. Hydrus. All the teachers didn’t like Dee much. The “why” was still something Dee was trying to figure out.

He had offered Dr. Ackroyd a parody of a smile. “Sorry that you wasted your time.” 

And that should have been the end of it. That was usually the end of it. One of Dee’s apologies, a short tense silence, a backhanded comment that always, always, felt like a slap in the face and Dee left standing alone once again. When had Dee stopped expecting something better from people?

And why did Dr. Ackroyd keep upsetting these expectations of his?

The teacher had hummed to himself, staring at the distant elementary school. The brick building had a faded look to it: something that had stood for a thousand years and would stand for a thousand more, something that had seen hundreds of kids grow up and move on, something that should have been remembered fondly.

All Dee remembered was the fact his scars matched the pattern of the brick by the southern entrance from the number of times his cheek was grounded into it, and the way a deflated kickball felt slamming into his face repeatedly. He remembered the look on the nurses face when she told him to stop crying over the blood on his face, the annoyed expression from one teacher or other when he came in late covered in bandages. He remembered the librarian who always brought up the car accident when he saw her, always saying what a shame it had been, always ripping the scab off the wound before it could heal over and ten year old Dee trying not to scream at her for it.

“Mr. Ekans,” Dr. Ackroyd had said suddenly. “I have never once wasted my time on anything. I do not plan to start now.” He had picked at the packet of papers in his hand before hands before handing over it to Dee. Dee had taken it without really knowing what was happening.

“What?”

“I’m going to get you into the Science Honor Society Club.” The teacher had told him as if it were really just that easy.

Who knows. Maybe he really thought it was.

“I’m going to do all I can, Mr. Ekans, so I expect you to do as much as well. Bring your grades up.”

“What?!” Dee had stopped in his walk, blinked, and then repeated, “What?!”

“Surely you heard me the first time--”

“I did!” Dee had said hotly, “What do you think I’ve been trying to do this whole time! Bringing my grades up is not-- it’s not that--” He had spit the word between his teeth, “--easy!”

And Dr. Ackroyd had raised an eyebrow at him, in that way of his, “I know you can do it.”

Dee squeezed the test packet in his hand leaning forward on the old playground structure again. There it was. That voice, that absolute conviction in the teacher’s tone. At the moment it had filled Dee with a horrible fiery anger that send him storming away from the teacher and leaving him behind on that sidewalk. 

He had picked up his brother. He had gotten home and did the dishes and made dinner and done everything that wasn’t open his backpack and look at his homework. Then when he had finally caved and pulled the four pages worth of good marks from his bag, he had immediately thrown that stupid test in the trash, taken it back out, flipped through it, ripped several of the pages, crumpled them into a ball, thrown it out again--

And at half past the Little Dipper, Dee was in his backyard on a playset that should have succumbed to the natural selection a decade ago, with the test in his hand and his ears ringing from a teacher who had such absolute faith in Dee’s ability he had managed to make Dee doubt the very law of his life.

(Like Newton’s law of Gravitation, or Murphy’s law of Perversity: Dee’s law of Loneliness.)

((It has a ring to it, didn’t it?)

Dee had been alone for all of his life, alone in his corner of the boxing ring there to be beaten again and again as others used him as a stepping stone to something greater. There had never been anyone cheering for him in the stands, any coach hollering advice at him, any water boy reminding him to drink in between rounds of the fight. It had been him and him alone.

All at once Dee becomes aware of the noise behind him, the dramatic shift in the balance of the playset he had been sitting on that causes the rusted metal screws to whine and the floor to shake. Dee yanks his feet up onto the platform and hugs the metal bar he had been leaning on and tries to remind himself that a four foot fall was not going to kill him.

Then the shaking stops and Dee chances a look behind him to see exactly what idiot chose to come outside and play on the goddamn kids play castle that Dee had already claimed brooding rights on for the night--

“Thomas?”

The eleven-year-old totters on the platform, less than a foot away, on his hands and knees and in socks that have several chucks of the playground mulch stuck to them. The kid looks at him with those wide eyes, a sheepish smile, and he unapologetically shifts so he’s sitting across from Dee. 

“Hi, Dee!”

“What are you doing out here?” Dee asks, “Do you know what time it is? What about mom--”

Thomas picks a piece of mulch off his socks, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Dee had known Thomas since he was eight and Thomas was just a year old. He knows all the kids ticks, the way he picks at his fingers when he’s nervous and lying, and how he hates the cowlick in the back of his hair and how he hates when Dee leaves him alone with their mother, but never says anything because he feels guilty. 

He knows that when Thomas says he can’t sleep its a lie, and he still can’t bring himself to be even a little upset.

“Go back inside, Tom,” Dee tells him.

“Why aren’t you coming in?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Go to sleep.”

“Fine!”

And because Thomas has known Dee since he was one and Dee was eight, he leans forward until his head hits Dee’s shoulder.

There’s a pause between the two of them, where Dee goes as still as he can, feeling the pressure of his little brother’s head right there on his shoulder, feeling the weight of the absolute trust, feeling the frustration fade right out of his bones. 

“What…” Dee says, impossibly soft, “are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” Thomas answers equally soft.

The test papers in his hand crumple again, when he squeezes his fingers into his fist to wake himself from the dream he’s been living for the past week since Dr. Logan Ackroyd walked into his life. The reality doesn’t shatter around him; its distressing, worrying, and stupid, because Dee doesn’t think he’s known what to do in this upside down world.

If he accepts it, he’s going to lose it. If he fights it, it will destroy him. In the boxing ring of his life, Dee’s alone, lonely, abandoned and losing. The past week has just been setting him up to knock him back out of the fight and is it wrong for Dee just want to want the final blow to land, already?

“Whats that?” Thomas says.

And because Dee doesn’t lie to his brother, he flattens the front page out and spreads it for the moon to read. “My test.”

“Did you do good?”

“I did.”

“Then why are you sad?”

Dee doesn’t lie to his brother.

He’s not like his mom when she says “it won’t happen again” or like Thomas’s dad who says he’ll “be back in a little bit” and just to “tough it out” until he shows up like he isn’t gonna leave again in a week, a day, a few hours. He isn’t like Thomas’s friends who say they’re not scared of his brother, and he’s not like his own teachers who tell him that they “don’t give out grades, kids earn them”.

So instead he drives his chin into his chest and tries to speak around the lump in his throat. “I’m not sad.”

“Why are you angry then?”

“I’m NOT ANGRY!” Dee snarls, maybe a little more angry than he means, and he doesn’t regret it for a good one, two nanoseconds.

Three nanoseconds and Thomas flinches. “I’m sorry!” 

And then Dee recoils, because fuck, he raised his voice, and this was Thomas and He raised his voice at Thomas. 

The playset shifts dramatically underneath the two of them, wobbling like Thomas’s last loose tooth seconds before it fell out. Dee’s hand flings to the metal bar, and Thomas grabs the wall opposite of him. There’s a squeak of fear from them both, something shrill enough that Dee’s sure a light at the house across the street flicks on and off and a call to the police is probably being debated (and ultimately discarded, because no one called the cops for Dee’s broken arm three years ago or someone took a metal bat to their mailbox or the rock to the window, or, or, or.)

The playset wobbles, and they both cling to their respective parts, and they both stare at each other. Dee and Thomas.

At some point it stops shaking.

At some point, both their breathing evens out again.

At some point, Thomas says, “oh,” and they’re both quiet. 

Dee can hear the crickets sing, the too-early morning breeze dancing through the wind chimes on someone’s porch, the soft even breaths of his little brother. The test scatters on the ground a few feet below them, picked up by the little wind and tossed across the little yard. Somehow it makes the whole world feel confined to this little bubble where it was him and Thomas and this stupid space that Dee had forced between them.

“I’m sorry,” Dee says and its different from the times he’s said it before, all the times his teachers dragged it out of him and all the times the other kids had claimed one as a person victory. This time he means it, because it’s Thomas.

“It’s stupid,” Dee says because he doesn’t lie to his brother, “It stupid and I hate it.”

Thomas, sweet, wide-eyed, little Thomas, waits for him so say more.

“It’s stupid that I’ve made it this far and I can’t go any farther. I hate it. They said that everyone had a chance and then they drew the line right in front of me, like “oh not you”. I hate that everyone has always ignored who I am and what I can do, what I’ve done-- and Thomas? It sucks. I’m so tired of it. I’ve tried so… so very hard to do the right thing every single time. They tell me to apologize, and I do. They tell me to try harder and I do. They tell me that I’m not going anywhere--”

Dee savors a breath, and forces it out just as quickly, possibly a little hysterically, “I don’t wanna be here for the rest of my life, Thomas. I can’t be here forever. It will kill me.”

Thomas at eleven years old is too wise for his age. Because he doesn’t tell Dee that he’s not going to die, he doesn’t tell Dee that its going to be alright, he doesn’t say anything at all.

Dee feverishly wipes at his eyes, because heaven forbid the stars see him cry. 

(They’ve seen him do that enough already.)

“Dr. Ackroyd made it seem so easy,” He says barely more than a whisper in the silence of the night. “I’m really scared it might be.”

The metal feels warm to his touch, burning hot and he clings to it like a lifeline that will light his entire body on fire and turn the rest of his skin to match his face and shoulder and arm and, and, and.

“I’m really scared that it’s gonna be that easy after all, and that I’m going to make it out of here and that I’m going to get to college and that it will be the same exact thing all over again.”

“It won’t.” Thomas says, loud enough that Dee has no choice but too focus back in on him. The moonlight is playing with his pale skin and making his eyes shine. Or maybe those are tears. Is he crying? Or is Dee?

Thomas, wise beyond his years, too wise for his eleven years. Thomas says it won’t be like this out there. Thomas says he’s going to have a chance. Thomas agrees with Dr. Ackroyd.

“It won’t be like that, Dee, I promise.” Thomas says. “You won’t let it be.”

Unwavering faith.

“I know you can do it.” 

He brings a hand to his face again rubbing those tricky, telling tears off his face. He sniffs, his ears prick, and his throat stings just a bit. How ridiculous is it, crying at half past too-late, and with his little brother watching him. He thinks of how Dr. Ackroyd must be somewhere probably asleep because that’s what normal fucking people were supposed to be doing--

And stupidly Dee thinks of that boxing ring of his life and thinks of Thomas standing in his corner smiling at him like he is right now, watching him take hit after hit and watching him get back up each time. And he thinks of that Science Teacher watching him with those calculating eyes, pen in hand and analyzing his opponent’s every move and crafting the plan of retaliation---

Just asking Dee to make it to the next round, to the break where he can get to the moment where he remembers why he’s fighting in the first place.

Thomas lets go of the wall, and carefully leans forward again. The playset squeaks slightly. Thomas stops just an inch away from Dee. When he calms down he reaches the last bit forward and hugs him. Dee can feel him shaking, can feel them both shaking.

And then the playset comes toppling down.

They both let loose twin yells of panic-- Dee blindly grabs to his side and pulls Thomas forward, covering him with his arms. The metal screeches, something wooden cracks and Dee feels absolutely, terrifyingly weightless for a full second. 

They hit the ground heavily: Dee, landing on the platform base at an odd angle and Thomas landing on him at an odder angle. Dee loses his grip on his brother he rolls to the side. The air, what little bit of it was left ejected from Dee’s chest, and several part of his back and his arms and his legs are left whimpering with promised bruises.

And they’re left lying there, trying to catch their breaths in the wooden and metal wreckage, staring up at the stars.

And they’re left there, alive even after everything around them had come down around them.

“You okay?” Dee asks the second he’s sure he’s not dead.

“Yeah,” Thomas says equally out of breath. Dee watches him raise his head, slightly, a stupid shiny grin on his face and flushed cheek in the moonlight, “You?”

It’s not that easy, bringing his grades up. It’s not like flicking a switch, or knocking over a domino, or starting a car engine, or, or or. But he’s got a couple people (Dr. Ackroyd, Thomas)  in his corner, and something that he wants (Science Honor Society).

And the stars twinkle overhead the same way they’ve always done

“It’s so... fucking late.” Dee chokes out a sopping wet laugh. It tastes like salt and despair and something completely awful that he absolutely hates: hope. 

Dante Ethan Ekans has never thought of himself as dumb. 

He’s not.

[jjba-arni-reblog]

Connection

Alright! This is a bit different. This is a special gift from me to @rasasvavda - an incredible artist who I commissioned an amazing piece. This is my part, my appreciation for the author and her work. The story follows DIO and her OC Akali. The artist provided me with quite some information to work with. This small fic reflects on key moments in their relationship as the two of them slowly realize one’s feelings. There are also soulmate themes established at the start of the work.

@rasasvavda there ya go!~~~ I HOPE you’ll like it! It was a pleasure and a challenge to write for such interesting character! I appreciate your work and support and I wish you only the best!

Words: 3K (damn, I got invested)

A world where not only stand users are connected, but also lovers. Soulmates. While the regular people could feel each other’s soulmate’s emotions, for stand users it was quite different. Being connected by the stands, the soulmate connection wasn’t as prominent and could be easily missed. No wonder they are so little stories of two soulmates finding each other. Their emotions affect their soulmate’s stand, changing their attack power, speed and sometimes even appearance. One could only hope to find the connection between a person and one’s stand changing. So, it was rare, yet not impossible. And those who succeed to find one’s soulmate, found the connection between one another even stronger than stand users might feel. All it takes is to realize one’s feelings and show the stand.

~ ~ ~

“Introduce yourself to me, DIO” the man on the throne commanded.

“My name is Akali, in Punjabi it means The follower of the Immortal One“ the woman explained to the man before her.

“That’s quite ironic knowing who is standing before you” he noted.

“Certainly” Akali answered, trying her hardest to not roll her eyes at the ego of the blonde.

“What do you search for? What does one crave?” DIO asked eyeing the woman, trying to find any sight of fear or reluctancy. None were present, which made the lord smirk.

“For now, these is no pain or revenge in my heart, I am a simple follower, searching for the luxuries of life. By serving you one might obtain such privileges” Akali explained, still no fear present in her eyes.

“Then join me, you could be a great addition to my followers. I can give you wealth, power, anything your soul desires” the blonde confidently proclaimed.

“But don’t expect me to kiss your ass, lord DIO” Akali replied, hoping to establish herself early in this working relationship.

“Ho?~ What a sharp tongue you have. One does not refer to me, DIO, in such way, but I’ll let it pass this time as I could see that your sharpness comes from the passion and strength within you. This once, I will ignore such comment. I can’t wait to witness your power and dedication, Akali.”

“Likewise” the woman smirked. It is going to be an interest work.

~ ~ ~

“Tell me about your culture, Akali. I have noticed that you take great pride in it” the man suddenly spoke out one evening.

It seems like the Lord Dio has heard of Kali’s encounter with some of his fewer notable servants, that deemed themselves appropriate enough to try and discourage you from longing for culture. Unfortunately for them, they were quickly shut down by woman’s sharp remarks as she wasn’t too keen on letting some scumbags put stereotypes on her.

“I respect your strong desire for the connection with your culture, in contrast with simple-minded peasants that can only retort to seemingly pointless arguments and even less intelligent opinions” DIO pointed out, unusual praising words leaving his mouth.

“Why such interest, Lord Dio?” Kali raised her eyebrow, not trusting the man before her. After all he was also known for his cruel and sharp words, not mentioning punishments.

“It is a simple interest of mine to educate myself. Learn about other talented individuals as well as simply acquiring knowledge of other cultures” he answered while approaching the cupboard to find a bottle of wine together with two glasses.

“So, the lord Dio thinks of me this highly?” her teasing tone didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde as the man let out a deep chuckle, finding himself in a rather interesting situation.

“Perhaps, who knows?” lord DIO answered, not bothering to elaborate further.

The two of them didn’t need to worry about getting drunk as both had high alcohol tolerance, instead drinking to relax and continue with intellectual conversations. As Akali told DIO about her culture, sometimes even switching to German when needed, the time went on quickly, the pair surprisingly maintained the conversation on equal terms, being respectful and even understanding of each other opinions, even if they didn’t always match.

After some time, the conversation switched to makeup products, in this case – lipsticks.

“May I ask you, lord DIO, about your taste in lip products, since I have witnessed your unique appearance and tastes” Kali asked a bit unsure if the man before her will even consider her question. Yet she had to try her luck.

“You may. I am a man of diverse interests and lip products are one of those things, I have couple of products in my collection, you may have seen me wearing a particular green one around the mansion. Such colour is one of those that I, DIO, tend to prefer” he explained then continuing “But I have also noticed that you seem to share interest in lip products as well, as your usual appearance is complimented by a dark lilac purple lipstick. Frankly saying, such colour choice has also sparked my interest as it is not the usual tone one might wear daily, however…it does suit you” lord DIO has surprised Kali, earning a look of confusion from her as she couldn’t believe his positive words.

“It is the highest praise to hear such words from the Lord DIO” she commented, taking a sip of her wine to cover her smirk. The man mirrored her movements, letting out a chuckle.

“Of course”

~ ~ ~

“Dio……” she almost whispered, shaking at the movements of the bug that has now started crawling towards her, making the woman panic slightly, praying that the bug would change direction. The said man was reading a book while sipping some wine, clearly not present mentally in the situation occurring next to him.

“Mhm?” he simply mumbled, not noticing Kali’s state, not looking up from his book still.

“Fucking kill it!” the woman screamed, jumping on the table to escape the crawling monster.

Being startled by her sudden move, Dio was quick to find the source of Kali’s panic. Spider was slowly but surely crawling to the stand user, making Dio smirk at such bizarre behaviour.

DIO took the small knife situated on the table (for whatever reason it was there) and in the matter of seconds, threw it, instantly killing the bug. Turning to Kali, DIO raised an eyebrow trying his hardest not to chuckle at the woman. Noticing this, she quickly jumped down.

“DON’T” she simply stated, knowing fully that once the man had started, there will be no stopping him from his teasing commentaries.

“What an interesting sight to witness…Perhaps I, DIO, have a luck on my side today, allowing me to see another side of my precious servant” the blonde said, noticing the annoyed yet a bit flustered expression of Kali. He took in her form, hoping to remember every single detail about her embarrassed yet sharp features. This side of her was new to him and DIO was more than happy to discover more.

~ ~ ~

“What is going on?” was the first thing DIO said when finding Kali cuddling with her stand, cigarette in her lips. She was sitting on the couch with the balcony door open, not wanting to smoke indoors but still wanting to enjoy the softness of the couch. A cup of expensive coffee was situated on the cupboard next to the couch, making it easier for the stand user to reach without necessary breaking the hug. However, the bottle of stronger liquor was placed right next to the cup, implying that the last mission might not have been a complete success.

“Nothing really, lord DIO” the voice tried to reassure the man…rather unsuccessfully as DIO could feel that the tone was false, fake. The tone that tried its hardest to lie about being okay, about not needing help, about current situation.

“If I may note, this coping behaviour is unhealthy for one to have, especially in the presence of me, DIO, himself” his words came out strong, perhaps too strong as he could see the woman letting out a deep sight, making her stand disappear and quickly finishing the cigarette.

“I apologize, lord DIO, this won’t happen again” Akali reassured him with an unemotional tone. No snarky remarks, no comebacks. Nothing. As she was about to stand and leave the room, DIO motioned her to stop, instead getting himself a glass of wine then returning to the couch.

“Speak”

“What about?”

“Whatever bothers you. Or anything. Just speak. It is better than drinking your problems away. I do not wish to see my servants in such state, especially one as strong and useful as you, Kali”

“I…” she thought for a minute, trying to come up with any excuse not to reveal her anxieties. Yet the presence of her lord brought her comfort rather than fear. So maybe this once…maybe she’ll allow herself to be honest.

“Alright”

It was the first time DIO called her Kali, yet it wasn’t the last…

~ ~ ~

“Lord DIO, may I request something?” Kali approach the man as he was reading a book, quickly turning his attention to the visitor.

“What is it?” DIO asked, however there wasn’t a sharp edge in his tone. Not when she was around.

“May I request someone to train with me? Someone from your other servants perhaps. My stand requires attention to offence so having a partner to help with improving my attacks would be beneficial to my work” the woman stated, waiting for the answer of her lord.

“That is very thoughtful of you, Kali” the nickname resonated with her soul, making her feel flustered hearing how her name sounded coming from her lord’s mouth. Pleasant and almost hypnotizing.

“Sadly, I recall that no stand users are present today in this mansion, seemingly trying to find more information for me, DIO” The blonde explained then pausing for a moment “However, I, DIO, am willing to help you with the training. After all, I should be aware of any progress or weak sides my servant may have.”

“I….thank you, lord DIO I don-“ Akali excitedly answered before being interrupted by the lord.

“But I won’t reveal my stand. No matter how much I trust you, I furthermost need to take precautions. Practically no one knows about my stand’s ability and I’d rather leave it that way” DIO explained, crossing his arms after finishing.

“I understand. I am thankful for your offer to train with me. Thank you, DIO” she finished, quickly realizing her mistake “I mean LORD DIO, I apologize I-“

“DIO is fine, after all, you are one of the closest servants of mine and I could say that I trust you enough to allow such change” the blonde smirked at the panicked expression “however, one shall refer to me, DIO, only in private as to not let the speculations appear” he finished.

“Of course, DIO. Shall we start?” Kali asked. The man nodded.

Maybe having her use his name isn’t such a bad idea…

~ ~ ~

A pleasant smell could be noticed as DIO walked past the kitchen. Getting curiosity overwhelm him, DIO opened the door, noticing as familiar figure softly singing as they gathered ingredients.

Kal’s hair was now put into a high ponytail, making her appearance even more noticeable to DIO. He continued to stare at her back, not quite knowing what to do in such bizarre situation yet also not wanting to interrupt the singing.

“Is there anything you need, lord DIO?” the voice cut through the song, surprising DIO as he was known for his stealth and quiet, almost silent steps. The woman turned towards him, motioning him to enter the kitchen.

“What is the reason behind this?” straight-forward as usual the lord was.

“I simply decided to cook, to relax and enjoy good food” Akali answered as the matter of fact, not pausing to explain further to DIO, instead getting out other ingredients for the dish, carefully unpacking them. Then she spoke again “Also, since I know that you are not too keen on eating, I got you wine and blood” she motioned to the countertop where the two bottles were situated.

Hearing the reasoning DIO felt something within him clench. Homemade dishes, it was a while since he had them…it was too long ago, memories hidden somewhere within the lord as he never thought to have felt such atmosphere again. Not here, not now.

Yet a small part of him wasn’t complaining as the blonde eyed the figure concentrating on the task before her, not noticing the sharp gaze of her lord. DIO could see the small smile grace her strong feature. It was a rare sign, to see Kali this relaxed, this content with her situation, this…happy.

This familiar feeling…this long forgotten comfort and warmth

~ ~ ~

Not everyone was loyal to the lord DIO and at some point, the traitors reveal themselves. However, one could expect them to team up, trying to overtake the mansion to find all the gold and treasures hidden within it. Trying, that is.

However, the teaming up surely worked in they favor, as they succeeded in surprising the lord and his servant. Akali was quick to get ready into position, fully prepared to protect the man from the attackers. However, as the feeling of annoyance came (due to realizing that another useless group of wannabe killers is needed to be taken care of), the stand wasn’t

“Stop this, immediately” DIO ordered, however the woman didn’t seem to hear anything or didn’t want to.

“You can’t me tell what to do, let me handle it” she responded growling at the attackers.

“It seems like I can” the blonde then said, his voice sounding confused at a sight before him. Her stand, it has changed. Slightly but nonetheless it changed. Der Maister attacked carefully as if not to drain its stand user too much, trying to figure out who to attack first in order to not hurt its user. Der Maister seemed to be slightly anxious despite Akali looking confident, meaning that such emotion had a different source. DIO. This small amount of worry for the woman manifested itself in her stand, using precise movements that DIO was known for. As if reflecting the man need to make sure that his servant is alright, the stand changes its approach accordingly.

Noticing the change and realizing what is happening, DIO couldn’t help but to look at the scene in bewilderment. So that does exist? And the universe was kind enough to allow DIO himself to find his soulmate? As a slight worry came, Kali’s stand started to drain her energy more, prompting DIO to make a crucial decision.

“Kali” the voice called from behind, surprising the woman with the note of happiness that could be heard.

“What-“ she turned around, stopping in her tracks as she saw a new figure next to DIO. His stand. For the first time he let his stand out, in front of others, in front of her. The stand radiated the same powerful energy that the lord had. It suited him. However, something was off. There wasn’t a need to let the stand out, she had the situation under control as her stand quickly took care of the traitors. Yet here it was, standing next to lord DIO, eyeing the woman before him.

“There’s no need, DIO. I could handle this” Akali said, still not believing that she has the luxury to finally witness the strongest stand there is.

“I let it out to observe. Say, Kali, what are your feelings about me, DIO?” came the question.

“What’s this question out of the sudden?” the woman asked confused at the change of topic.

“Just answer me, Kali”

“I am devoted to you, DIO. As a servant and…as a friend, if you’ll allow me to call you such. I look up to you, hoping to protect you from any useless attacks of your enemies. I feel….content being by your side, in one way than another. That’s the truth” Akali said, feeling the slight worry overtake her. Maybe she said too much, revealed too much even though she tried her hardest to act reasonably, to not let personal feelings get a hold of her.

Feeling his stand to get stronger, DIO couldn’t help but to smirk. This has fully confirmed his theory. They have found each other. Letting his stand approach the remaining attackers, DIO continued.

“It seems like the universe has different plans for us, Kali” he let his stand take out the attackers, making sure that the woman’s stand didn’t use too much of its energy.

“My feelings are mutual, Kali. And it seems that our stands’ reactions reveal another interesting aspect…” DIO continued before Akali interrupted him.

“Soulmates…We are soulmates” the realization hit her as she reflected on her stand’s changes as well as DIO’s words “I…” she didn’t know what to say, how to react towards the new acquired information.

“As I said, the feelings are mutual” DIO said now approaching the woman. The attackers were defeated as expected, making the two of them withdraw their stands. Feeling the lord DIO put his hand on her neck, she couldn’t help but to feel slightly nervous yet excited. DIO shared her feelings…

“Kali, do you wish to stay by my side, not as a servant…” he chuckled tracing soft patterns on her neck, waiting for her response.

“I do, if you’ll allow me” she answered with a small smile on her exotic features. Such small beautiful moment wasn’t unnoticed by DIO, who now started to lower his head towards the woman. Even with her wearing high heels, the difference in the height was still present. Kali could feel her cheeks redden slightly, meeting DIO’s strong gaze as she could feel new feelings overtake her. Those feelings that had built with time, with each interaction, small remark and comfortable silence. Those feelings that one could finally reveal not being afraid of rejection.

In the world of soulmates and stand users, the universe isn’t too kind on letting the both aspects meet. Yet there is always a small chance, a small glint of hope in one’s soul longing to find its soulmate. And today, two more were allowed such luxury. Two souls, connected at last.

[johobi]

Breathe

Word count: 2.5k

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: None. This is about as wholesome as it gets on my blog.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359445

Next: Interval || Dig Deep Masterlist

The night before your wedding to a man you couldn’t find any more repugnant, you seek out the mercantile aid of an unscrupulous space pirate.

A coolness perfuses the soles of your unshod feet. Everything about your alien environment exudes this curious chilliness. And though it should perhaps be the foreign engineering, the meandering layout, or the noiselessness of the vessel that flummoxes you most, it is rather the temperature that beguiles you. 

Iluoli reside in a state of refrigeration. The notion is equal amounts amusing and fascinating. That much is reflected - quite literally, in the ship’s many lustrous surfaces - by your confused arrangement of features. And it is while wearing this unflattering facial setting that a door before you whooshes - everything on their ship whooshes - open. Right onto the long, limber figure of who you now know to be its captain. Before vacant, Namjoon’s eyes and mouth fly wider than you would consider possible. Then again, he is an alien. “Oh!” The exclamation is pulled from him softly. As quickly as he’d breathed it, he affixes a less terror-stricken expression. “Miss ____. I apologise if I startled you—“ by the way he white-knuckles the doorway, it should be you apologizing—“I wasn’t expecting to see you on the bridge. Or anywhere,” Namjoon remarks aside, bending enough to evaluate you from the toes up. “I wasn’t expecting to see you on your feet for a few days. Dr. Jung informed me that the soreness of your genitals would render you bedbound.” An inferno builds in your cheeks. And what may as well have been vapour, for the insubstantiality that leaves your flapping mouth. “U-Uh—“ “Ah, are you not feeling yourself still?” Namjoon incorrectly diagnoses, interpreting your incoherency as malady. “Come in and take a seat. The chairs are tolerable soft here. Designed for long stints of occupation.” “Th-Thanks,” you stumble, because if it weren’t your tongue flailing uselessly it’d be your legs, quaking in embarrassment. You’ve not long been aboard their ship, but it’s taken half that amount of time to realise that the Iluoli speak openly and frankly about such matters. And for one such as you, having been raised amidst the pomp and propriety of human nobility, their unfiltered stance on sexual activity is baffling. Refreshing, but baffling. “I’m doing well, though, thank you,” you sincerely do thank him, because his concern is genuine. “Yoongi suggested I take a wander of the ship to familiarise myself.” A lie; the bitter truth being he was standoffish and unreceptive to all attempted conversation. Even after your sordid clinch! The alien had muttered some transparent excuse about work and left you lonesome in his quarters.   “I didn’t know I was heading to the bridge. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” “Not at all.” Namjoon rebuffs your fears of intrusion with a wave. “I was about to retire but you’re most welcome to see it. It isn’t terribly impressive.” He thumbs blindly to the chamber behind him, and his assertion couldn’’t be any further from the truth.

Meek as a mouse, you poke a toe over the threshold until awe robs you of your self-consciousness. The room carries the same, sleek architecture that is signature of the crew’s species, but what astounds you is the height of its concave reaches. A reinforced, glass dome houses you from the void twinkling beyond, granting you an unparalleled panorama of near space. Illuminants line the chamber’s walls, enhancing its majesty; strips of gentle violet that thrum with the engine’s core, pulsing like veins. Presumably the ship is either on standby or auto-pilot, as the light seems more ambient than practical. Consoles and stations around you blink with all manner of their own, indecipherable lights. And if you listen closely, there is a pleasant, undercurrent drone resonating from the technology surrounding; a hum as harmless and soporific as a mother’s bedtime lullaby.

A lullaby, if your eyes aren’t deceiving you, that one of the crew seems to have succumbed to. Open-mouthed and throat-exposed, a young man you’ve yet to make the acquaintance of dozes to the fore of the room, at its cockpit. In the lowlight it’s difficult to examine the features of his face, but by the silhouette of his strong profile he’s extremely handsome.

Is everyone on this ship sinfully good-looking?

The slumbering boy’s hair flutters on the breath of an apnoeic snort. One so loud and sudden it punctures the peace like a gunshot. Startled, you clutch the nearest thing to you, wild-eyed and abuzz with anxiety.

The nearest thing being Namjoon.

It only registers that you’re far from home, far from kin, and far out of your depth when you clock the squidgy, cloaked appendages you’re so rudely grappling are the captain’s tentacles. You know, the thing that modesty dictates they keep covered.

And you’re practically flattening them.

Namjoon makes a peculiar noise. Something betwixt a gasp and an exhalation, all at once. You think to unhand him, but your knuckles are only operating one-way. “Oh, goodness, I’m so, so sorry!”

“That’s quite alright,” the captain attempts to reassure you, though the hiccup in pitch gives away his agitation. Before you can extricate yourself from your tangle, Namjoon’s familiarly greasy appendages are encircling your wrists and returning them to your sides. Freed, his tentacles slither swiftly behind their shroud. “I apologise if Taehyung frightened you. He sleeps in here more than he does his own bunk.”

You follow the rhythmic rise and fall of the extraterrestrial’s chest. "Why does he do that?"

What you can only intuit as a fond smile erupts across the captain's face. "He's rather vehement in his pursuit of knowledge. It's a challenge to have him even eat, sometimes."

Illustrating Namjoon's words lay piles of vintage reading materials, the kind hardbound by leather and paper. Books, they used to call them. Taehyung doesn't appear the type to shun modern technology either, though. Scattered haphazardly amidst the tomes are your more familiar holopads, glowing idly with text and casting a sunset across his untroubled features.

"He's our navigator," Namjoon answers the question next on your tongue. "You would struggle to find someone who is as space-savvy as he is." His line of sight directs you to the controlled chaos stacked around the boy. "So we accommodate his eccentricities as best we can."

Where Yoongi is brusque and unfeeling, Namjoon is patient and warm. Your focus leaves the exotic chamber to land on him. "And I thank you again for accommodating me. I know it was extremely sudden. In all honesty, I'm essentially at sea. I had no plan beyond escape. And it wasn't with you, either."

Namjoon, too, is drawn back to the conversation. Spun-gold hair sweeps over an eye when he tilts his head. "You weren't planning to ask for our aid?"

"No," your cheeks feel the burn of shame before you can comprehend why. And then you do. "I approached your crew with the very specific aim o-of--" Namjoon's arcane eyes don't waver. Thraeus, they're purple. "Well, you know what."

"Engaging in interspecies intercourse?"

Namjoon's unequivocal suggestion triggers a snort from you, an improvement on head-to-toe mortification. "Yes, well. Yes." Your knuckles twist white around your skirt. "Before I was bound to marriage, I wanted that which I was always denied in pursuing. Forgive me if you think me vulgar."

A wonky smile suggests otherwise. "We really have no notion of such a thing. It was a curious display, if anything." A thumb and index finger pull suddenly, inexplicably at your cheek and bafflement leaves your mouth hanging. "Is this the colour of human embarrassment?" Namjoon hums, consumed by intrigue. "Your temperature has changed, also. We have no such reaction to that emotion. Though, we do feel it." Pincered in his scholarly musings, you can't so much see but hear the light ripple of his tentacles behind him. "Much of our emotion and reaction revolves around our Raeli."

As you speak, your cheek finds freedom from his gentle pinching. "Raeli?"

"I hear your kind term them tentacles, but that is not their true name. Raeli are, in etymology, quite literally our gifts from God." The so-called gifts squirm enthusiastically beneath Namjoon's cloak, as though sentient and hearing. "They are a measure of strength, virility, capability. They form the basis of much of our etiquette and ceremony. Their language can easily be misinterpreted by those unknown to us and thus it is prudent to keep them covered to strangers and the outside world."

Hearing him speak of alien custom in so free a way unearths a familiar, nagging resentment for your restricted upbringing. All you'd craved in your eye-rollingly homogenous curriculum was a taste of the other. To understand the beings that co-habit your universe. What you might one day run away to...

"Oh, so it's not for modesty's sake?"

Namjoon’s features scrunch toward the centre of his face. Again, you appear to have amused him. "No. We don't clothe ourselves for the reasons you do." Fingers trace the delicate embroidery of his cloak. "Well, some of them, anyway. To maintain our temperature, as you do, yes, but we feel no shame in revealing our naked form."

You mull these unfamiliar perspectives over. The more you contemplated your species' unnerving obsession for concealing all that was natural, the easier it was to consider that humans were the abnormal ones. "That's really interesting. Refreshing," you add with speed, eager to ensure your drowsy monotone isn't interpreted as sarcasm. If that's even a concept they're familiar with. They seem an extremely literal peoples.

"What's interesting?" A soft question, caught in a yawn, originates from the far end of the bridge. Taehyung is mysterious in the star-and-low-lit room, his eyes heavy with sleep and propped open by intrigue. "What are you talking about?" He repeats huskily, quicker this time, interest eschewing his lethargy.

It takes you more than a moment to respond. Largely, in part, because it's difficult to process how this fresh-, cherubic-faced man can produce sounds so sonorous. Hearing him speak is akin to submersion in your very favourite, warm milk baths. "I--well," your nerve renders itself elusive again when faced with a touted erudite. "Namjoon was just telling me some things about your species that I didn't know. I love hearing about you."

Taehyung's bottom lip catches the light as he juts it. "Oh. Is that it? We're boring. Now, what would be interesting is if you tell me everything about your species." He's on two legs, now, stretching each and every of the limbs attached to his torso toward the sky. Naturally your eyes are drawn to his uncloaked appendages as they flex away the effects of their inertia. Teal, and long - oh, so long - when extended in this manner, they tremble at the limit of their reach, much like the tail of your beloved, coddled cat, King Cud. "Where are you from? Where do you originate? What do you eat? The flora and fauna on your planet?" Taehyung stops a mere foot away, no longer lit by space but fluorescence from the corridor. There are stars, nevertheless, in his eyes, now open wide and seeking something of fascination. His tentacles undulate restlessly in the air behind him, six hands on a timepiece that originates from his back. You haven't seen them bared so boldly since--

"It's late, Taehyung. ____ is likely tired. You can ask her these things another time." Namjoon must sense some change in your demeanour. For the life of you, though, it's not something you can pinpoint yourself. Awe, maybe. He interprets discomfort. "And sheathe yourself. You may look threatening to a human."

Your head whips to him and back. Back to the imposing beauty overlooking you. "Oh, no! Not at all. I'm not afraid. I'm just--" how best to depict yourself as something other than a brazen xenophile? "--I've never mixed with people outside my own species. Other than the servant staff, I mean." The reproval you anticipate doesn't come from either of your hosts at your divulging your appallingly pampered lifestyle. The chagrin licks hot at your cheeks anyway. "What I'm trying to say is that I hold much admiration for your species. I want to learn more of you, and others, and--everything. I've led a very sheltered life until now."

As Taehyung's hands land on his hips, so, too, do two of his tentacles, ringing his wrists in mimicry. An exuberant grin pulls his lips into a charming, rectangular show of teeth. "I have so much to tell you, Madam ____!" The title is unexpected but you receive it with a smile of your own. "You don't know anything? That's so exciting!" He turns to Namjoon, tentacles tangling in his thrill. "Captain, this is amazing! I've never met someone so unintelligent! The things I can teach her!"

If your face wasn't an inferno of mortification before, it is now. "U-Unintelligent?"

Taehyung communicates a vague, self-conscious panic at Namjoon. His index fingers come together at his front for a show of agitated poking. If that wasn't winsome enough for your forgiveness, his top two tendrils emulate the gesture over his mop of hair. "D-Did I say it wrong? I meant," his top teeth sink into his fleshy bottom lip, fixed on Namjoon. His Captain, however, looks bereft of answers. "Stupid."

Whether it's a sound or a snort that ejects itself from one of your facial orifices, you're not sure. It's muffled in nano-time, however, by the palms of both your hands slapping your airways shut.

Namjoon, ever your well-meaning - if inaccurate - interpreter, sends a sigh in Taehyung's direction. His eyebrows hover low and remonstrative. "You're distressing our guest, Taehyung. With one of your words," he tacks on, sagely, though the ambiguity is transparent.

Actually, you'd laughed. Coarsely. You hadn't belly-laughed since, well, you'd been instructed by your nannies to hide it. The belly and the laughter. And all things in between. It was plebeian and unattractive to suitors, they'd said. That propriety dictated a gentlewoman keep such uncouth behaviour stifled. Slamming a hand to your mouth had become an unfailing reflex.

"Which one?"

"S-Stupid?"

Your reverie is struck aside by Namjoon's flustered speculation. Back in reality, you find yourself engaged by two extremely bewildered Iluoli. That’s very unlike reality.

The captain, then, relaxes in understanding. "Ah, yes. Don't say the word stupid, Taehyung. It's probably offensive to humans. Perhaps the term unlearned is less harsh."

There's no keeping it in. A noise, as foreign as your surroundings and situation, ousts itself like a geyser, vibrant and untapped. Thraeus, it’s funny. Everything is so funny. You guffaw into the open air, clawing at your stomach as it tremors."S-Stupid--u-unlearned--"

Once as deep as the earth's core, Taehyung's voice shoots up, shrill. "You made it worse!"

Namjoon's is just as high. "I--I didn't know humans were so fragile!"

It's only halfway to Hoseok's office, bound gently aloft by tentacles and amidst frenzied cries of Her face is watering again! that you're able to regain a measure of your composure and reassure them that you aren't, in fact, seizing.  Merely, you were laughing out your amusement. And you thank them for it.

That does nothing to clear up their confusion.

[mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker]

Amazing Spider-Man: Renew Your Vows #13-15 Thoughts

Previous thoughts here.

Yes I know I couldn’t be later to this party but I started this series so I’m going to finish giving my thoughts on it.

I tried very hard to finish Houser’s run on RYV in time to read Spider-Girls but it just didn’t happen, I only made it up until just before the penultimate arc and I didn’t write up a proper post of my thoughts back then. So I re-read her first arc today with ambitions of re-reading the next 2 stories before finally experiencing the final arc and then Spider-Girls as part of reading over most of Spider-Geddon. What you will read below are a mixture of some initial thoughts I jotted down during my first read through and my thoughts upon revisiting the story, mostly the latter.

Oh SPOILERS I guess

So let me immediately get some obvious business about Renew Your Vows’ direction from here on in. The book, sans its covers, desperately misses Stegman. It also misses Conway but that is not a condemnation of Houser at all.

Houser in this arc does a good job with the situation presented by the new direction. Whether that new direction was her idea or editorials is unknown, though likely the latter.

And really that is the absolute worst thing about this story, the new direction itself.

It isn’t so much that it is bad unto itself but it is reductive that after 12 issues building a certain status quo, the one also built by the RYV Secret Wars mini-series and was promoted by Marvel prior and during the book’s initial release that we are abruptly changing course in a big way.

The book is still unique, at least the Spider-Books on the stands (even now). But it is less unique for various reasons.

Firstly we simply have way more teen heroes than pre-teen ones. Secondly a book that pays much attention to Spider-Man’s super powered teen daughter is going to either tread upon familiar ground that Spider-Girl stood on or else it will evoke Spider-Girl in the memories of the readers. Annie unto herself innately did this anyway, but that was offset when she was much younger than Mayday.

It also throws away the world building and set up Conway enacted in his initial arc, not to mention it just fast forwards a lot of Annie’s potential character development.

Does this render Annie uninteresting or the premise less likable? No because Houser has a strong handle on both the characters and more specifically what RYV as a book is.

Perhaps this is nowhere more apparent in how she structures her opening arc. Each issue shifts the POV to one of the Parker family, starting with Peter, then handing off to MJ and concluding with Annie, exactly like Conway’s first three issues did. This is a pretty clever way of conveying to readers Houser ‘gets’ the book and reassure readers who might not be thrilled about the time skip that these are the same characters just at different points in their lives, and not even that different, sans Annie.

This is rather realistic because Peter and MJ being the adults are comparatively less likely to change all that much even within 8 years whereas Annie inevitably will drastically change going from a pre-teen to an out-and-out teenager. Fittingly Houser compensates for this by showcasing Annie’s new state of being throughout the issues that are about Peter and MJ.

On the one hand this does somewhat undermine the idea that this book is about the family collectively as opposed being about Annie or placing Annie as the ‘first among equals’ in the team dynamic of the book.

On the other hand since the book is about the Parker family it adds up that so much of Peter and MJ’s characterization will stem from their relation to Annie; your child is after all the most important thing in your life.

So we get Annie’s somewhat more salty and disconnected relationship with a Peter who is very much starting to feel his age. Which is GOOD, the obnoxious proliferation of teen Spider-Man renders almost any older portrayal interesting by default. With MJ though, Annie seems to have a much more conciliatory relationship, its more that she exhausts her mother and seems more comfortable going to her about stuff. Also as a nice way of distinguishing her from Mayday, Annie seems to share her mother’s passion for fashion which Mayday actively didn’t.

Speaking of fashion lets talk about Annie’s new costume. I’ll level you all..it looks better than her prior costume, but also less unique but neither is...all that great. I guess when you have Mayday Parker and Spider-Gwen and all the Spider-Women running around, coming up with something thing that fits the general Spider-Man motif, looks unique and also is really dynamic can be difficult. I can see where the designer was going though. Peter, MJ and Annie share the same outlines for where the chest areas of their suits turn into another colour. Peter’s is red and blue, MJ’s red and white and Annie’s is blue to black. So the ‘shape’ of the suit lends to the ‘unified family’ idea. The colours also make her stand out but maybe too much. If her parents had red chests and then she has blue it’s kinda weird. If the idea was she was trying to strike out on her own sure but I don’t get that impression at all. It is kinda cool she has MJ’s mask design but I preferred her old mask which was a compromise between her parents’ masks.

As for the main plot, I think Houser could’ve milked it much more than she did, we could’ve done with much more of the slice of life stuff and the Lizard was underutilized. There is a strong element of family defining the Lizard’s character because of his wife and child. In a book about family I presumed that was where we were going when he showed up. But...no he was just used as a monster amidst monsters.

I’m not saying Houser got the Lizard wrong just that there was an obvious and more compelling angle to exploited in the story.

The two big reveals surrounding the plot, that there is a zoo full of near-human people, and that it’s being run by Mister Sinister was also...underwhelming.

Spider-Man has the best supporting cast and rogue’s gallery within Marvel comics. Not only does this mean we don’t really need to see non-Spider-Man characters (like the X-Men) pop up, it’s frankly less interesting when we do because they have little-no history with Spider-Man or his family.

It was also just kind of a reveal that didn’t land for me, I could not care at all.

Mister Sinister was a little different because, I like Sinister as a bad guy I really do...but not in Spider-Man. I get including and referencing the X-Men in this arc because for some reason they were practically supporting cast members in Conway’s run, so paying that off makes sense. But why double down upon it with a major X-villain? Like the Jackal, even Doc Ock, either of them would be more fitting villains in this type of story or where the series implies it will be leading onto later.

It didn’t help that when we met Sinister initially in disguise there was just very little gravitas to him because he obviously looked like a no-name 18th century circus reject.

The ending let this arc down is what I guess I’m getting at. Issue #13 and #14 had pretty nice hooks for the next issues.

What was a letdown throughout though was the action sequences. They were pretty pedestrian along with the art overall. Like it wasn’t BAD per se (except Peter’s eyebrows...wtf?), it just was a major step down from Stegman and even Stockman, the latter of whom I think the artwork was chosen to be more like. It had this softer undefined element to it, and not in a Romita Senior way.

Returning to the character though, I do commend Houser for having a good grip on everyone and efficiently finding a way to distinguish them from one another across the three issues.

Peter dealing with being older and now decidedly less cool and engaging to his teen daughter is delightful..even if at points it feels like the narrative is kind of undermining him, especially in the Wolverine scene at the start of the story...still Dad Joke Spider-Man is awesome. Even more awesome is how together he over all is. This isn’t an angst ridden Peter Parker or one who is introspectively questioning himself. Throughout the story he gives off this air of relaxed experience, like he knows what he’s doing and can tell the situation allows for a few jokes and a bit of fun. Refrshingly he doesn’t angst about not pursuing the bad guy at all.

Moving on, Houser probably dissing MJ’s place in the Iron books at the time with her reprimanding and smack down of Tony was awesome (although I don’t get why she was so miffed at him). Her playing Spider-Mom, and more poignantly dejectedly owning it, was hilarious. Her sense of exhaustion is relatable whether you’ve been a parent or just been around them. It very much taps into Conway’s characterization of MJ as a juggler

Houser’s Annie also shines. She is believably an older version of the kid Annie we once knew but also stands firmly as her own person. She’s somewhat embarrassed by her Dad and wants greater independence. She loves being a superhero, but is (also in contrast to Mayday) a more of a punch first think later kind of gal with a dash of overconfidence.

She is untrustworthy of the Lizard and more gung ho, whilst MJ and especially Peter (to my delight) are both more reigned in and trusting.

This is nicely explored in the family’s single page descent underground where Houser gives Peter a really great speech about what it means for Annie to accept the great responsibility of the mask, that it might mean trusting those who are not trustworthy for the sake of others. This serves to nicely develop Annie as its her Dad treating her as more of an adult for the first time. the fact that it’s her Dad, the iconic hero Spider-Man conveying this wisedom onto her is very fitting and helps further legitimize Annie as a Spider-Hero to the readers of RYV and legitimize the new teen version to those jumping aboard at this point.

Not to be outdone, MJ an issue earlier got a wonderful piece of dialogue about how in spite of how their lives might be messed up by being heroes she and her family will still endeavour to make plans and live normal lives. Which is both a wonderfully inspiring heroic statement but also so very true to who she and Peter are as people.

Some other small points:

I saw Carrion amidst Sinister’s menagerie

The underground nature of the story’s conclusion nicely evokes the first arc by Conway

Overall Houser sells/sold you on the new dynamic with this arc as much as I preferred the older one and wish they hadn’t changed.

B+

[daegunotes]

i like me better (when i'm with you) || {one}

What: BTS Fic Genre: Fluff Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Words: 3k

A chance meeting with you in a library and then again in a cafe has Namjoon intrigued, he says fate. You say coincidence.

Suggested Listening: I Like Me Better - lauv

A/N: This is for a very special friend to whom I sent random scenarios late one night and this is the final product.

5ft. you walked with a purpose, nose deep into your favourite book; as usual not watching where you were going. With a loud oomph you crashed into someone’s chest, a someone who seemed a foot taller than you since you nose was smack in the middle of his chest. The tall stranger’s hands grabbed at your arms to steady you. Flustered, embarrassed and red faced, you managed to trip on all your words of apology as he bent his head closer to check on you. The sudden closeness caused you to flinch and take a few steps back which ended up in you banging your head on an inconveniently placed bookshelf. You muttered a soft aah as the bump began to sting. The tall stranger was still standing there, smiling at your clumsiness. Somehow your klutz behavior hadn’t sent him running in the other direction; for his hands reached up to rub the back of your head in efforts ease the sting while his other hand held your face in place.

"Hey, you're a little jumpy. Are you ok? I’m sorry if I startled you." he finally said in his quiet hoarse library voice. "Oh no I’m sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." you replied hastily, it wasn’t his fault that your brain was preoccupied. "It's all good, I'm guilty of the same when I'm engrossed in a book, whatcha got there? Is it really good?" he rambled on without missing a beat. "Uh...actually it's just Emma by Jane Austen....I've read it a million times but i just moved and all my books are buried somewhere. Needed this to calm down." you had supplied more information than was necessary, why was this happening? "Aah I see, well you’re in luck, if you want access to books, I’m pretty sure I have a the most sought after selection in this city. You are more than welcome to raid it. I'm Namjoon and you are?"

"I'm Y/N, and I usually don't talk to strangers in the library..." again with the unnecessary information what was up with her today?? "What was that? You mumbled the last part. Wow Y/N, that's a wonderful name." his face split into a smile and his cheeks deepened with dimples as he finished his quip. "My parents liked this name so..."  you replied right back, the flirty insinuation of the sentence going right above your head. "Haha I see. Well if you're still looking to get your hands on some books, my library is actually quite exhaustive" Namjoon continued, not willing to let the tiny hindrance that was your obliviousness discourage him. "Oh.. then what are you doing here? In a public library?" you questioned right back.

"Can't get anything past you huh? Fine I will fess up. My apartment is undergoing major renovations so I trying to while away my time. No access to a library means an unhappy Namjoon. So I came here. Seems like fate was really on my side." he said, you were definitely going to take the hint now right? "Oh. Well I hope you find what you're looking for soon, nice to meet you." you said with a benign smile. You walked around him and were barely a few paces ahead when you heard him jog a little to stop beside her. "Umm actually I can't go back until they're done with my apartment and that won't be until a few hours. If you're so inclined and have a free afternoon, would you...."  "I'm sorry if this is rude but frankly I don't know you and I have somewhere to be. Nice meeting you. Hope you can be home soon." you said as you began to walk away leaving him rooted on the spot.

He smiled to himself softly, this was an unusual occurence, women didn't turn him down. Usually all he had to do was flash his brilliant dimpled smile at them.

You however weren't affected by him, and heaven help him he was going to find out why.

Up until the age of 15, Kim Namjoon had had a cushy life, which came with being the only son of the eldest child of the expansive Kim Holdings LLC. He had everything he could have wanted, at his disposal. Expensive schooling, the finest tutors, he was being groomed for great things. All of this came to a standstill when his father passed away a few days shy of Namjoon’s 16th birthday. After the tragedy, his mother withdrew into a shell for 3 months and when she emerged she was the same rebellious hippie she had been before she got married to Kim Young-jae.

It was an epic love affair and an even greater scandal in its day, the scion of one of the most powerful families in the country had rejected every “suitable” girl from every notable household to go and wed a penniless artist. He had eventually been coaxed to come back into the family fold along with his eccentric wife and 2 year old son. Namjoon’s mother was a force to reckon with, so she was not pleased at the thought of having to live the woefully restricted life of a chaebol-heir’s wife and mother, so it took a lot of convincing from Namjoon’s father to convince his wife to move into the family home (home being a modest term for the 11 bedroom, Kim Mansion located in a district where the real estate prices weren’t spoken out loud, just passed along in secret). The only point that convinced her was the opportunities the move would provide their son. So she packed her bags and moved her home - and life into her husband’s world.

There were a few bumps in the beginning but her husband’s love and support and the luxury her child was in had calmed her nerves and she swallowed the bitter pill that was this strange environment. Her in-laws family treated her cordially, they could not afford to lose their eldest son again and now that they had all fallen head over heels over the toddler Namjoon, they couldn’t possibly risk losing him as well.

It all came crashing down on that fateful night Namjoon’s father passed away. It was a day Namjoon could never erase from his memory. His mother’s eyes were hollow and she had not spoken or eaten anything for hours, still in the same clothes and the same position she was when she first got the news. She couldn’t believe it, the love of her life, her soulmate had left her, all alone in his world.

 Something changed in the usually feisty woman that night. After the funeral rites were completed, she withdrew into her own world, barely communicating with anyone, not even her son. Namjoon felt as if he had lost both his parents, one to a terminal disease, and the other to grief. He would have gone down a terrible spiral if it hadn’t been for his uncle’s family. Him and his cousin Seokjin were extremely close and Seokjin (who went by Jin) treated him like a friend and an equal even though he was the older one. His stability gave Namjoon strength and a shoulder to lean on in those terrible times.

After 3 months, with his mother distant as ever Namjoon was slowly getting his life back in order when it was, once again, ripped apart. His mother emerged from her shell, as if she had been biding her time and vowed that she should cut off all contact with the Kim family and take Namjoon with her.

The family tried their best to dissuade her but she was a woman with tunnel vision, she wanted out and wouldn’t stop at any cost until she was clear of the family and everyone in it. The family could not do much as they would lose face if they went against a grieving widow, so with a heavy heart Namjoon left his happy childhood home to set up base at his mother’s old studio.

In a matter of days Namjoon went from a prince to a pauper. The mother and son duo had precious little to their name and his mother’s pride did not allow her to take handouts from her in-laws.

From the age of 16 onwards Namjoon had to grow up very fast. Losing out on all his luxuries, he struggled in the initial months of the move. Slowly he started coming into his own, money or not, Namjoon was an intelligent child who could turn any unfortunate situation around. 

He started with something he knew best - books. The only things his mother allowed him to keep from his previous life was his book collection. He had been an amateur collector but he was blessed with the ability to purchase rare texts and limited first editions.

He sold a few books off his prime collection to pay for part of his college tuition, the rest he made by bussing tables, being a weekend valet parking attendant and in a hilarious turn of events, even a mascot for a dating site. Namjoon worked hard both in and out of school to be able to provide for him and his mother, his young shoulders suffering burdens that were far beyond his years.

During one of his many odd jobs, he wound up as a server at a party hosted by his cousin Seokjin. The sight of a thinned down, lines on his forehead Namjoon made Jin extremely unhappy and he took out all of his credit cards to hand it over to his exhausted cousin. Namjoon had smiled at Jin’s attempt to help him but denied it all the same, there was a certain rush he got when he worked for his money (not that Jin and his family didn’t work hard) and he also felt like he would be betraying his mother if he took any help from his extended family. With a heavy heart, Jin parted from Namjoon but not before making note of his address. Over the next 2 years, anonymous deliveries full of groceries and clothes and other necessities would mysteriously find their way over to the Kim’s humble abode.

Namjoon’s hard work paid off, he finished school with magna cum laude in Creative Writing and was immediately hired by a publishing house as a junior editor (he was suspicious at first since the publishing house was a affiliate of his family’s conglomerate but he brushed it aside). Slowly and painfully Namjoon made it to editor status and started making connections and friends. When he was 29, he had enough pull to quit and start his own publishing company.

It had been 5 years to this date. His company had flourished tremendously and people jokingly called him Midas because he had the golden touch to turn any rookie writer into a bestseller. What they didn’t know was that Namjoon had worked extremely hard, wasting away in his office for those 5 years, so his company could succeed. He had made something of himself. He had done it, despite, not because of his last name.

He sat in the corner booth of his new favourite cafe (cafe was a loose term, it was more of a hole in the wall) drinking an americano made just to his liking, when a familiar voice piqued his interest.

“I’ll uh… I’ll take the….uh...I’m sorry, I’m a little scatterbrained today. I’ll take a latte please and thank you.” you said to the barista, your cheeks reddening a little because of your awkwardness. The barista however was more interested in whatever was behind you as she kept throwing coy glances in that direction. You were about to turn to see what the fascinating thing was when you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” his deep voice said right by your ear and made you jump. You turned around quickly and stumbled and once again Kim Namjoon had to steady you by grabbing onto your arms. “You fall a lot in my presence, is that foreshadowing?” he said cheekily, hands still on your arms. “Uh no. Like last time you startled me, what are you even doing here, are you stalking me?” you quizzed with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “Excuse me? I’ve been here for the past half an hour, you’re the one who just walked in. Who’s stalking whom?” Namjoon huffed back.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the barista who clearly was not happy with the fact that you were talking to the tall handsome stranger she had been planning to marry for the last half hour. You ignored her expression and were about to pay when Namjoon grabbed your hand to stop you, “Please let me, I’ve caused you much annoyance today. Let me repay you.” he said taking out his wallet. “No...no that’s fine, it’s just coffee...thank you.” you said confused, he was a strange man. “I insist. No caveats, I just bought you coffee that’s it. You’re free to go your own way.” he added softly, remembering the last conversation the two of you had. “Well if you insist. Thank you that’s really kind of you.” you sheepishly said, who were you to turn down free drinks? Namjoon finished paying and smiled his brilliant smile at you again as you prepared to leave. “It was nice to see you twice in one day. I would have said it was fate but you would probably not agree.” he said as a farewell and starting walking back to his booth to while away some more time.

You looked at his retreating back and chewed on your bottom lip in deep thought. “Hey, wait...Mr. I have a huge library…” you jogged a little and arrived at his table, and he looked up at you in surprise. “That’s an innovative nickname… did you forget my name already?” he asked feigning hurt. “Oh please as if you remember mine.” “Y/N. Miss Y/N.” Namjoon replied in a deadpan tone. “Oh uhh yeah, that’s right… wait Namjoon! That’s it! Sorry Namjoon. Today is not the best day for my brain cells.” you said, secretly relieved that you had remembered. The mention of his name from your lips instantly perked him up and he got up to draw out the chair opposite him, for you. “Please, join me. I would love to have the pleasure of your company.” he said, while smiling wide, dimples on full display.

You took the offered seat and began to slowly open to the tall handsome stranger who fate had thrust into your day.

2 hours later:

“So you’re telling me, that the first time you read A Brave New World, you thought it was a survivor’s account and a world like that existed?” you said barely able to control your laughter. “Hey to be fair, I was nine and I thought Lord of the Rings was real and that every man with a beard was Gandalf.” he replied amused at you trying to hold in your laughter. “Wait who lets a nine year old read Aldous Huxley?” you said, a little alarmed at the contents of the book. “My parents were hippies.” Namjoon put it simply. “Aaaah, say no more.” you said, giving him a knowing smile.

This was easy. It was so easy to talk to talk to him, he had such fascinating stories and opinions and the way he spun them around you, you felt a certain pull towards him...you weren’t going to lie to yourself and say he wasn’t attractive because oh boy that tall drink of water was quite the eye candy but the most attractive thing about him was, his brain. And the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he cared about deeply. And the way he covered his mouth with his hand when he laughed. And his dimples. 

You needed to break this spell, so you quickly looked up and asked him a general question, “So what do you do? Aside from sitting broodingly in corner cafe booths and stalking the halls of a library.” “I uh sell books.” Namjoon hesitated in providing full details in case it coloured your opinion of him. “Oh so you own a bookstore?” you inquired further. “You could say that….” he answered tentatively.

You were about to ask him more when a loud bang, which sounded like the cafe door being thrown open, was followed by a shrill voice, “JOONNIIIEE, THERE YOU AREE.” said the voice, your head whipped around to find an intimidatingly beautiful amazon-esque female strutting towards the two of you. Reaching your table, she promptly proceeded to plunk her impressive behind onto Namjoon’s lap. “Joonie babe, where were you all day?? Your phone is off and Jae-hyun won’t tell me where you are either, are you mad at me?” the lady said with a pouty face that you assumed was supposed to be cute.

“I uh… I’ll see you around Mr. Namjoon, it was great talking to you. Thank you again for the coffee.” you said as you scrambled to gather your things. “No Y/N wait, I can explain….” Namjoon said, his voice constricted with what you could place as anger. “Oh no… it’s fine, I was leaving anyway.” you said as you hurried to get up and out of this damned cafe before you could embarass yourself any further.

You hurried out of the cafe and ran down the street to the nearest bus stop. You just wanted to be home. Putting a hand over your heart, your whispered to yourself, “Phew that was a close one, hey?”

[vfdarkness]

A Voice From Darkness - EP3 - The Ghost Library | The Black Door part II

What follows is a transcript to the third episode of our podcast, A Voice From Darkness. You can listen to it wherever you normally get your podcasts or listen here as well.

INTRO

Dark ambient drone.

RYDER

Your car has broken down. You're stranded on the side of a road you've never traveled. The night sky is absent the moon and stars. Monstrous screeches barrel down from that same pitch black sky.

A beat.

RYDER

You need my help.

DARK AMBIENT DRONE CHANGES TO:

INTRO MUSIC

RYDER

This is A Voice From Darkness.

Intro music continues, but gradually fades out.

ACT I

RYDER

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist. I'm being told we have a call on the line - a freshman student from my alma mater - good old Ravenswood University. Hello, caller. How are things out on Mackinac Island?

All of Diane's dialogue has the SFX of being through a phone.

We hear Diane slowly walking.

From her phone there's an otherworldly drone.

Also from her phone: ghostly whispers reciting Latin in the distance. Though, it slowly gets closer to Diane over the course of the call.

DIANE

Hello, Dr. Ryder? I'm Diane, and I'm - I'm lost.

RYDER

Are you somewhere on the campus, Diane? Somewhere on Ravenswood grounds?

DIANE

I'm in the school library. At least, I was. But now. Now I'm less sure. I don't know what happened.

RYDER

Let me lay out a scenario for you, Diane - Tell me if this sounds right - you were in the library - roaming the shelves. You found yourself deep in a thicket of dense tomes. One of them called out to you - likely an ancient leather bound book with Latin words scrawled across its spine. You picked this text up. You felt compelled to open to a random page - hoping to gain some insight into what knowledge lay within.

A beat.

RYDER

But instead when you opened the book - it crumbled to ash in your hands, you looked upward. Around you the shelves had changed. They were no longer six rows high, but climbed to the dark heavens above you. And the wood - once a stained oak - they're now charred black.

A beat.

RYDER

Diane, does that describe the library you find yourself in?

DIANE

Yes, that's where I am. Where am I? What happened to me?

RYDER

In 1912, Ravenswood's library burned to the ground. Terrible fire. And so much knowledge lost.

Witness testimonies of paranormal encounters, transcripts for countless seances, ancient works of black magic. All gone to the ages. The librarian at the time - a Latin scholar named William Milner - rushed in - grabbed an armful of books - and came back out. He repeated this heroic effort several times - foolishly attempting to save the library. Finally, during one of his trips into the flames, he did not return. The roof collapsed and the building, the books, and the librarian were no more.

DIANE

What does that have to do with where I am now?

RYDER

You are wandering the stacks of the ghost library. That building, those books, the librarian - their spirits haunt Ravenswood. As do many others.

DIANE

Am I... Am I trapped here?

RYDER

Diane, what happened to you happens to a few students every semester. Frankly I'm surprised they didn't warn you at your orientation. They should have told you how to escape should you find yourself in the very place you're now in.

A beat.

DIANE

(embarrassed)

I skipped orientation... it sounded boring.

RYDER

(incredulous)

Skipped orientation? You're at the best school of supernatural scholarship in the country. That necessitates there being the supernatural at the school.

It's an incredible place to learn, but it's also quite dangerous.

A beat.

RYDER

Now, I'll help you out of the ghost library. But in return, I'd like you to go to my sister's office - Professor Amelia Ryder's office. Let her know you missed orientation. She'll make sure you don't end up in an equally awful situation elsewhere on campus - forever climbing the infinite tower or beheaded by the joyful executioner...

The voice whispering Latin is nearly as loud Diane's now.

DIANE

(afraid)

I promise. I promise I'll go. Please help me though. I think... I think the ghost of William Milner is in front of me. What do I do?

RYDER

Scream.

DIANE

What? No, he's a librarian, won't that just anger him?

RYDER

Of course that will. He'll become enraged and expel you from his library. Diane, I don't mean to beat a dead horse, but HAD you gone to orientation, you'd know that.

DIANE

All right. All right.

A beat.

Diane screams.

MILNER

Expulso Inde bibliothecam.

There's a sound to indicate the transition from the ghostly world to the mundane.

The otherworldly drone disappears.

DIANE

(shocked)

That worked. I'm back. Back in the normal library.

RYDER

Glad to be of help. Remember to go see my sister - Professor Amelia Ryder- first chance you get.

DIANE

I promise I will.

Call ends.

RYDER

All right, why don't we cut to Today in Odd America, and after that we should have time for another call.

TODAY IN ODD AMERICA

TIOA music plays.

RYDER

Today in Odd America we find ourselves in four states - Minnesota, Missouri, Illinois, and Louisiana. Across those states - four men abducted children... and slit their throats over the banks of the Mississippi River. On this day in 1988 the Mississippi Murders took place.

A beat.

RYDER

Federal investigators were called in to find the link between the four men and their identical abductions and murders. None of these men had any prior history of violence or criminal behavior. At the time, there were worries they belonged to a cult and repeated killings would echo across other communities along the river. But no link between the men could be established.

They'd never met or corresponded with one another. However... they all gave identical accounts of being haunted by the Mississippi River.

A beat.

RYDER

Each man told local and federal authorities stories of how they could hear the river. Hear it whisper to them. And what the river said - terrified them.

A beat.

RYDER

The Mississippi River told these men it was no river at all. But a snake. A dragon. A leviathan. A massive creature that only took the form of water while it slumbered. But the river was hungry. The river whispered that if it was not fed blood of the innocent it would be forced to awaken. Forced once again to take its true form. And in the form, it required far more blood for sustenance. More blood than all the men, women, and children across the world could provide.

A beat.

RYDER

And so these four men made a blood sacrifice to the Mississippi River.

A beat.

RYDER

When their identical tales of the river being a slumbering leviathan leaked to the press, police stations in every state bordering the Mississippi received anonymous phone calls, letters... Confessions. Dozens of men and women who lived near the river reported they too heard the same message from the river.

They too were told to feed the river blood or risk the reawakening of the leviathan.

A beat.

RYDER

But all these confessors had ignored the river. Terrified to harm the innocent. These dozens of confessors also reported the river fell silent after this day in 1988. After the river was fed the blood of four innocent children.

A beat.

RYDER

Two of the four men remain in prison. The other two - executed by their states. And the Mississippi River remains silent save for the sound of water moving down its muddy banks.

A beat.

RYDER

This has been Today In Odd America. Now back to our main show.

Today In Odd America music fades out.

ACT II

RYDER

And we're back. I have a return caller on the line. You might remember Amanda from a few weeks ago. Amanda came across a mysterious black door at an art museum. The door caused a time lapse when she first encountered it, and then after that evening the black door began following her. Occasionally others see it and then tell her to: "Open the door." Is that an accurate enough summary of where we left off, Amanda?

AMANDA

There's something more. Something I didn't tell you the first time we spoke. Something I forgot.

RYDER

What did you forget, Amanda?

AMANDA

At the art museum. I spoke to a man. You talked about him in the last episode of your show - I listened to the last episode - and when you spoke about him - I remembered I'd met him - at the museum.

RYDER

(concerned)

Who did you meet at the art museum?

AMANDA

In the Today In Odd America segment - you said there's a man - he's handsome, but not like a Hollywood star, he wears a grey suit, but nothing fancy.

RYDER

And he's missing his left ring finger. Amanda, no. You couldn't have seen The Traveling Salesman. He disappeared a decade ago.

AMANDA

I saw him. That night - the night I first came across the black door. My date - the bad date that I was on. When he ran up to go eat all the hors d'oeuvres, this man - him - The Traveling Salesman - he came up behind me. Said, "You can do better. You know that, right?" I thought he was being a creep - hitting on me. It's like he read my mind. He said, "I'm not flirting - just stating a fact."

RYDER

What else did he say? He never makes small talk. Any person he speaks to - he wants something from. What else did he say to you?

AMANDA

I told him I wished I hadn't brought the guy I was with. He told me. He told me - he'd been in the Post-Modern Sculpture wing moments before. That it was empty. Probably would be all night - "Who even likes that sort of art?" He said, I should go hide there for awhile. My date would take the hint and leave. Then I could enjoy the rest of the night alone. The other week - when we first talked - I thought those were all my own thoughts. My ideas. But they weren't. They were his.

RYDER

Yes, that sort of influence is one of his many talents. And so - he led you right to the black door. Amanda, I'm afraid this is far worse than I initially thought. There must be some dark purpose he set you on course for.

AMANDA

Do you know what the door is? Have you learned anything since we last spoke?

A beat.

RYDER

No, I'm sorry to say I haven't. The situation you're dealing with... There's not a lot... well, it's an outlier.-

AMANDA

(interrupts, impatient)

I thought most things you dealt with were outliers? When I first called into the show, that's what you said.

RYDER

That's true, yes. But that doesn't mean there aren't gradients to the outliers.

AMANDA

I think... I think maybe I should just open the door. More people see it now.

That means more people tell me to open it. More people try to hurt me - to get me to open the door. And it's staying closer - for longer now. Before - it might appear down the hall from me. But now - now it's almost always within arm's reach. It'd be so easy just to open it.

RYDER

Amanda, you said you listened to the last episode. Do you remember what happened to the people of Delton? Their town is no more. Their people - no more. All that remains is black sand. If you open that door - you will meet the same fate. Anyone who's struck a deal with The Traveling Salesman - if they were still alive - would tell you the same thing.

A beat.

AMANDA

Sometimes I see him in my dreams. Always in the distance - The Traveling Salesman. I think he's watching me. Waiting for me to open the door. Is that really him? The man I see in my dreams?

A beat.

RYDER

Yes... Yes, if you're dreaming of him, then it's truly him. Just as he has the ability to influence your thoughts, and to evade your memory - he has that ability as well - to enter your dreams. Amanda, he's danger-

AMANDA

(interrupts)

Good. I want to talk to him.

She hangs up.

A beat.

Ryder sighs.

RYDER

Amanda, if you're still listening - I implore you - do not approach The Traveling Salesman in your dreams, in reality. Anywhere.

A beat.

RYDER

And Amelia, I know you're listening. Please be prepared to help Diane when she comes to you. And...

A beat.

RYDER

Please warn the others on the island: The Traveling Salesman has returned.

A beat.

RYDER

That's all for tonight. Until next time, this has been A Voice From Darkness.

Outro music.

[free-mormons-blog]

Christian Envy of the Temple -- When the Lights Went Out Three Studies on the Ancient Apostasy  -- HUGH NIBLEY 2001

Christian Envy of the Temple

The Question

In his justly celebrated work on the fall of Jerusalem, S. G. F. Brandon comments on the “truly amazing” indifference of Christian writers to the importance of that event in the history of the church.1 But if the fall of the city meant for the Christians much what it meant for the Jews, that is, “the sudden removal of the original source of authority,”2 the loss of the temple, which was the central episode of the catastrophe, could hardly have been of less significance; yet Brandon himself, though by comparison with other scholars a positive enthusiast for the temple, minimizes its importance for the Christians as consistently as he accuses others of playing down the importance of Jerusalem.3

Why is this? Long ago Adam of St. Victor observed with wonder that the Christian fathers had always gone out of their way to avoid any discussion of the tabernacle of God, in spite of its great popular interest and its importance in the divine economy.4 The reason for this strange attitude is, as Adam and his fellow Richard explain, that the very thing which makes the temple so attractive to many Christians, that is, the exciting possibility of a literal and tangible bond between heaven and earth, is precisely the thing that most alarms and embarrasses the churchmen.5 Again, why so? Can it be that the destruction of the temple left a gaping void in the life of the church, a vacuum that the historians and theologians have studiously ignored, exactly as they have ignored such other appalling reverses to the church as the fall of Jerusalem and the cessation of the spiritual gifts?6 If the loss of the temple was really a crippling blow to the church, the fact can no longer be overlooked in the interpretation of church history.

But was it such a blow? The purpose of this paper is to consider three facts that strongly support an affirmative reply, namely: (1) that many Christian writers have expressed the conviction that the church possesses no adequate substitute for the temple and have yearned for its return; (2) that determined attempts have been made from time to time to revive in the church practices peculiar to the temple; and (3) that the official Christian position, that church and temple cannot coexist and hence the latter has been abolished forever, has always been weakened by a persistent fear that the temple might be restored. These three propositions reflect in the Christian mind a sense respectively of loss, inadequacy, and misgiving. What they all share in common is envy of the temple. But before the significance of that becomes apparent, we must consider the three points in order.

Good Riddance or Tragic Loss?

Whatever the conflicting views of the earliest Christians may have been,7 the perennial controversy regarding the temple in later times is well-illustrated by the Battle of the Books that began in the third century when Bishop Nepos attacked the “allegorists” with a book in defense of a literal and earthly millennium; in reply to this “unhealthy” teaching, Dionysius, the sophisticated Bishop of Alexandria, wrote what Jerome calls “an elegant book, deriding the old fable about the thousand years and the earthly Jerusalem with its gold and jewels, the restoration of the Temple,” etc.8 This in turn brought forth a two-volume counterblast in Jerome’s day by one Apollinarius, who “not only speaks for his own following but for the greater part of the people here as well, so that I can already see,” says Jerome, “what a storm of opposition is in store for me!”9 Jerome frankly admits that the opposition represents the old Christian tradition, his own liberal “spiritualizing” interpretation running counter to the beliefs of such eminent earlier authorities as Tertullian, Victorinus, Lactantius, and Irenaeus. This puts him in a dilemma: “If we accept [the Apocalypse of John] literally we are judaizers, if spiritually, as they were written, we seem to be contradicting the opinions of many of the ancients.”10 From personal experience, furthermore, Jerome can tell us how the old-fashioned Christians in Jerusalem insist on pointing out the very plot of ground on the Mount of Olives “where they say the sanctuary of the Lord, that is, the Temple, is to be built, and where it will stand forever,” that is, “when, as they say, the Lord comes with the heavenly Jerusalem at the end of the world.”11

Professor Henry Cadbury, in a study in which he suggests that the earliest Christians may well have believed “that this site [the Mount of Olives] is to be the site of the parousia,” concludes that “if other Christians, ancient and modern, have found the primitive emphasis on such a literal future event embarrassing, Luke gives no real countenance to any of their ways of avoiding it,”12 which means that Jerome’s dilemma remains unresolved to this day. Through the years the doctors have continued to dismiss a literal temple as an old wives’ tale only to find all their arguments against it offset by arguments at least as potent in its favor.

First and foremost was the philosophical plea against a physical temple (supported by endless repetitions of Isaiah 66:1), that God is not to be contained in any crass material structure.13 The fact that the invisible incorporeal God needs no visible corporeal temple was grasped “by no man at any time, either Barbarian or Greek, except by our Savior alone,” writes Eusebius, forgetting in his tendentious zeal that this had been a stock theme of the schools for centuries, and that Christian Clement, speaking with the pagan voice of Alexandria, had given it his eloquent best with supporting quotations from Plato, Zeno, and Euripides.14 The main objection to this view, however, was not its heathen coloring but the idea, pointed out later by Aquinas, that the temple was not built for God but for man, who needs a tangible image of celestial things and “special times, tabernacles, vessels, and ministers” to inculcate understanding and reverence.15 “It cannot be too often emphasized,” writes Canon Phythian-Adams, “that the belief in the Presence is not to be described as ‘unspiritual’ simply because Its ‘tabernacle’ was material.” And the same scholar, who represents a surprising but unmistakable tendency to view the temple with a new sympathy and understanding, rebukes the hitherto common practice in Christian theology “of confusing a belief or doctrine with low and materialistic interpretations of it.”16 Certainly the Jews themselves were well aware of the limitations of physical buildings and needed no Greek schoolmen, levied as spokesmen for a new religion, to tell them what Solomon had said long before: “The heaven of heavens cannot contain thee, how much less this house which I have built!”17

Apart from its gross and earthly substance, the temple has always been criticized by the churchmen as symbolic of a narrow, selfish, tribal worldview, incompatible with the grandiose concept of a universal church.18 Again the answer was clear: What could proclaim the oneness of God’s rule and the universality of true religion more eloquently than the temple itself, “a house of prayer for all peoples,” “the spiritual metropolis of all lands”?19 Some scholars protested that the authority of the temple had been virtually abolished by the exile and the Diaspora,20 but others pointed out with equal assurance that those misfortunes actually had the opposite effect: “Dispersion . . . increased the significance and the fascination of the Temple,” while the exile “only strengthened the universal love for it.”21 Actually, the limiting of the great central rites and ordinances to one spot was the very thing that recommended the temple so strongly to the Christian schoolmen, enthralled as they were by “the withering pressure of an omnipresent and monotonous idea”—the passion for oneness.22 Nothing on earth represented the oneness of God, his worship, and his people more perfectly than the temple had, and the church sorely missed just such a centralizing force.23 Thus Peter Cantor in the twelfth century deplores the multiplication of Christian shrines and invites the church to “note that in all Israel there was but one Temple, one Tabernacle, one Altar,” and to follow that example as “the only remedy” for “this morbum multiplicem.”24

How was such simplification to be effected? Peter and his fellows know nothing of the later device by which in theory there is only one central mass in the church “in which all the Church was thought to participate.”25 Instead he suggests a compromise that had been recommended long before: “Following the example of the one Temple, there should be in every city but one church, or, if it is a very large city, but a few, and those duly subordinated to the one principal church.”26 The objection to this, of course, is that the few fall as far short of the perfection of the Monad as do the many. Christian apologists had never tired of pointing out to the heathen the absurdity of their many gods and temples; how, then, were they to answer heathen and Christian criticism of the endless multiplication of Christian temples of which they first boasted27 and which they then tried to explain away?28

The standard explanation was that since the church was mystically the temple, and, being universal, was one, it followed that the temple was still one.29 Because Christians do all things in common, it was argued, they may be considered as one single temple.30 But this was putting the cart before the horse, for, as Thomas Aquinas observes, the temple was introduced in the first place to achieve that unity—it is not the mystical result of it. But having praised the temple as the perfect expression of God’s unity and of the unitas et simplicitas of the worship he requires, Thomas lamely adds: “But since the cult of the New Law with its spiritual sacrifice is acceptable to God, a multiplication of altars and temples is accordingly acceptable.”31 Here the word spiritual is expected to answer all questions and silence all objections, but Thomas’s own insistence on the unique significance of the temple as a locus electus, a tangible center of worship for the benefit of mortal man, makes demands that abstract terminology cannot satisfy.32 What is everywhere is nowhere, and for the very reason that God and his church are everywhere, there must be some special point of contact, Stephen VI is reported to have argued, around which the church might, like Israel, center its activities.33

Still, the idea of a spiritual temple was made to order for the schoolmen, who from the first took to it like ducks to water. The supplanting of a stone temple by “a spiritual edifice” is for August Neander nothing less than “the mightiest achievement in the history of humanity.”34 It is a simple, eloquent formula: “The Messiah’s kingdom would supplant the outworn system of the past. He would raise up a new temple of the spirit.”35 “Lugeat carnalis Judaeus, sed spiritualis gaudeat Christianus!”36 Again the argument falls flat, for the spiritual and carnal are not neatly divided between Jews and Christians, but “were to be found in both religions, and are still to be found in them.”37 If the Christian doctors knew how to spiritualize the temple, the rabbis had done a good job of de-eschatologizing long before them, and even the old-fashioned literalists knew the danger of “putting their trust in a building rather than in the God who created them.”38 In the end it was not a question of temple versus no temple but, as Irenaeus pointed out, one of proper values and emphasis.39

An inevitable corollary of the spiritual temple was the purely intellectual temple: Templum Dei naturaliter est anima rationalis, the human breast wherein “the rational and intellectual and impolluted and external unutterable nature of Divinity resides,” that higher, purer temple built of abstract virtues, etc.40 But aside from the fact that such ideas bore the trademark of the schools and were far over the heads of the general public,41 there was no reason why an “intellectual” temple should not coexist with a real one: while the Lord referred to the temple as his body, the church, Israel, and even the dry bones of Ezekiel, Origen observes, the real temple was still standing.42 Why not? The early fathers found “nothing absurd in saying that God’s dwelling is in heaven and at the same time in the earthly Zion,”43 and scholastic philosophers have no difficulty in viewing the temple under various mystic, moral, and material aspects without the least sense of contradiction.44

Along with their philosophical and moral condemnation of the temple, the doctors never tired of laboring the historical argument—the cold fact that the temple had actually been destroyed, that God had allowed its destruction and the prophets foretold it.45 But that had happened before, following a well-established eschatological pattern which saw in the destruction itself an earnest of restoration;46 and while in the divine plan the temple was to have its ups and downs (the Jews themselves anticipating the worst),47 there was no doubt in the minds of Jewish and Christian “fundamentalists” that the story would end on a note of eternal triumph for the temple, whose glory was eternal, preexistent, and indestructible.48 And if the Jews looked forward to a dark interim between the fall of the temple and the “Return and Restoration [which were an integral part of] the divine plan,”49 so no less did the first Christians: “For the scripture says,” writes one of them, “showing how the City and the Temple and the People of Israel were to be taken away, ‘It shall come to pass in the last days, that the Lord will give over the sheep of his pasture, and their sheepfold and their tower to destruction.'”50 The fathers of the fourth century were uncomfortably aware of this tradition, and Hilary states his own conviction that because of the wickedness of the times “there has for a long time been no Mountain of the Lord’s House upon the earth.”51 Later churchmen are haunted by a suspicion that the church is not really the equivalent of the temple at all, but rather of the tabernacle wandering in the wilderness, while the stable and enduring temple is still to come.52

A favorite symbol of the transition from crass Jewish materialism to the Christian temple of the Spirit has always been the New Testament episode of the driving out of the money changers.53 Yet how much this “obvious transfer” (as St. Leo calls it)54 left to be desired is apparent from many a bitter comment that the church itself was as much “a den of thieves” as ever the temple was, with the obvious difference, already voiced by Origen, that “today Jesus comes no more to drive out the money-changers and save the rest!”55 Furthermore, it has often been pointed out that the purging of the temple, far from being its death sentence, was rather a demonstration by the Lord “that he would not tolerate the slightest disrespect” for his Father’s house.56

In the same way, the other classic scriptural arguments against the temple have either backfired or proven highly equivocal. The famous prophecy that not one stone should remain upon another, hailed by the churchmen as a guarantee of eternal dissolution,57 contains nothing to confirm or deny a future restoration, and may well have been spoken “with the sorrow of a patriot rather than the wrath of an iconoclast.”58 If the rending of the veil has been treated as a symbol of irreversible eradication,59 it has suggested with equal force a broadening and expanding of revelation.60 Jesus’ invitation to “destroy this temple” and his conditioned promise to rebuild the same are often taken—but only by a liberal revamping of the text—to mean the opposite, namely, that he will destroy the temple himself, and instead of rebuilding it bring something totally different in its place: “‘Finish then,’ he might have implied, ‘this work of dissolution: in three days will I . . . restore . . . not a material Temple, but a living Church.'” Dean Farrar’s interpretation is typical, resting as it does not on what Jesus said but on what “he might have implied.”61

. . . Tamen usque recurret

The temple was driven out with a fork by Jerome and his intellectual friends. On one thing all the spiritual children of Alexandria—Greek, Jewish, Christian, and Muslim—have always seen eye to eye, and that is the conviction that the old eschatology with its naive literalism and its millennial temple was unworthy of thinking men, “repugnant to every principle of faith as well as reason.”62 Of these intellectuals none have been more dedicated to the party line than the Christian schoolmen, whose opinions inevitably became the official doctrine of a church which drew its leaders almost exclusively from their ranks. Yet they were not the only force to be reckoned with, and by the time “St. Augustine’s City of God had come to replace millenarianism as the official doctrine of the church,”63 the more tangible and sensuous aspects of the temple, enhanced by time and legend, were exercising their powerful attraction on two highly susceptible and influential bodies—a spectacle-hungry public and a power-hungry government.

As to the first of these, it is apparent from Jerome’s experience that a large part of the Christian society did not lose sight of the temple after its destruction but spoke longingly of its return. Students today are more inclined than they have been in the past to concede to the temple a high place in the estimation of Jesus,64 of the prophets before him,65 and of the apostles and the church after him.66 “The ethical monotheism of the Wellhausen era,” that made short work of the temple and its ritualism, now yields to recognition of the importance of the ritual drama of the temple not only as “a basic component of Israel’s religion,” but of early Christianity as well.67 For both, the way to heaven led through the temple, and if that was but an intermediate step in the salvation of the race, it was none-the-less an indispensable one.68 It was all very well for the orators of the fourth century to declaim that in the church “the goal of all old Testament hopes had now come,” that “the religion of promise and pilgrimage” had given way to “one of achievement and fulfilment”—the simpler Christians knew better: “Christians have not yet attained their goal; they too must run their course (Hebrews 12:1).”69 The Christian still needed the temple and always remained a pilgrim to Jerusalem in a very literal sense. Even the learned doctors of the second and third centuries “were unable to resist the fascination of the holy places” and came with the rest to see the spot where the Lord had left the earth and where he would return to his temple.70 In vain did the great fathers of the following centuries protest against the silly custom, clearly pointing out that it was in direct conflict with the official doctrine of the spiritual temple: the pilgrimage went right on.71

The Emperor Constantine’s plan “to legislate the millennium in a generation” called for the uniting of the human race in the bonds of a single religion, under a single holy ruler, administered from a single holy center.72 It was the old “hierocentric” concept of the sacral state, represented among others by the Roma aeterna of which Christian Rome claimed to be the revival,73 but also typified from time immemorial in the temples of the East, each a scale model of the cosmos, which was thought literally to revolve around it.74 Constantine’s architectural projects proclaim his familiarity with the idea of a templum mundi as a physical center of the universe,75 just as clearly as his panegyrists hail him in the role of Solomon the temple builder.76 “It is our most peaceful Solomon who built this Temple,” cries the orator at the dedication of one of Constantine’s vast “cosmic” rotundas, “and the latter glory of this House is greater than the former.” Just as Christ transferred “from sordid flesh to a glorified body,” so the church now has a much more glorified body than before.77 Let no one mistake this for the incorporeal temple of the doctors, who protested briefly and ineffectively against all this materialism;78 this really fulfills the prophecy (Haggai 2:9), no longer in words only but in deeds.79 The same rhetorical license that had vaporized the temple of Jerusalem by its appeal to higher things was not employed to justify its very solid successors, and before a rapt audience the great Christian orator could convert a monster pile, window by window and stone by stone, “into a spiritual temple structure” by the bewitching power of allegory.80

Immediately after his return from the Council of Nicea, Bishop Macarius of Jerusalem, by authorization of the emperor, demolished the temple of Jupiter that the Romans had “built on the very spot where formerly the Temple of God had stood,” and in the process discovered the crypts of the Cross and the Holy Sepulchre, “and,” Eusebius significantly adds, “the Holy of Holies crypt,” which was identical in form with the latter.81 Over the holy spot the emperor or his mother had built the wonderful structure which they called “the New Jerusalem, having erected it in the place of the ancient one that had been abandoned,” the Holy Sepulchre serving as the pivot and center of the whole sacred complex.82 The temple complex was supplanted by Christian buildings. Theodoret pointedly compares the Churches of the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension with the ruined temple and asks how the Jews in the face of that can have the effrontery even to remain in the city: “The Babylonians never came to worship at their Temple,” he argues, “while all the world flocks to our churches,” thus proving that the true house of God that draws all nations to Jerusalem is not their temple but our church.83 Chrysostom draws a like conclusion as he ecstatically views those vast panegyrises, those gorgeous year-assemblies at the shrine of the martyrs that represent the brilliant wedding of Christianity with the ever-popular pagan cults with their feasts and markets at holy tombs: “What does this all mean?” he asks, and the answer is clear: “It means that the Temple has been abolished.”84 We don’t need to go to Jerusalem anymore, John assures his people, just as his friend Gregory of Nyssa can announce that the church can “supplant the faded antique glory of our cities by our own Christian glory.”85

Of the many duplicates of Constantine’s New Jerusalem the most ambitious was Justinian’s “mighty glorious Temple, the Temple of my Lord, a heaven here below which I ween amazes even the reverencing Seraphim. If God should ever condescend to abide in a house made with hands,” the panegyrist continues, “this surely is the House!”86 As a crowning gesture, the emperor had fetched from Carthage the very vessels that the Roman soldiers had plundered from the temple of Jerusalem long before. But then in an even more significant gesture, the haughty Justinian for the only time in his life heeded the advice of the hated Jews and in superstitious dread ordered the vessels returned “in haste to Jerusalem, where he had them deposited in a church.”87 It was all very well to set up a new and holier Rome on the Bosphorus, but when it came to a showdown not even a Justinian dared to arrogate the authority of the house of God at Jerusalem.88

The man who dared most was Pope Leo. Behind him he had the tradition of the empire, now Christian, with Rome “holy among cities” as the center of the world.89But how could the church have two centers? The churchmen displayed considerable ingenuity in their arguments to show how a large number of churches could carry on the tradition of a single temple,90 but by the time of Constantine it was recognized that if there was ever to be peace in the church what was needed was not a vague universality and equality, but a highly centralized authority.91 Leo, who did more than any other man to transform the old universal devotio Romana into a new devotio Christiana,92 clearly saw in the temple at Jerusalem his most serious opponent.93 His sermons bristle with barbed and invidious remarks that betray his touchiness on the subject. In Leo’s Rome, as Michael Seidlmayer puts it, “die christliche Kirche steht auf dem Fundament des heidnischen Tempels.”94 Leo explains this away by appealing to the well-established Roman doctrine of renovatio with a new twist: Rome has died pagan and been resurrected Christian.95 The tomb of Peter now performs the function that once belonged to the templum of Hadrian, the great round tomb by the Tiber that was designed to draw all the world to it, while Hadrian’s image now stands in the temple of Jerusalem—the roles of the two cities have been neatly reversed.96

Leo freely admits the debt of Christian Rome to pagan Rome97 and sees in the great Easter and Christmas congregations of his people both the old Roman national assembly and the gathering of Israel at the temple: “Here you see the heavenly Jerusalem, built of all nations,” he cries, addressing such assemblies, “purged of all impurity on this day, it has become as the Temple of God!”98 “Now a new and indestructible Temple has been erected,” with Leo himself presiding in it, ordained in honor of Christ, the prophet “after the order of Melchizedek, . . . not after the order of Aaron whose priesthood . . . ceased with the Law of the Old Testament.”99Rome has not abolished the rites of the temple, however, but simply taken them over, every particle of the ancient ordinances and imagery having been absorbed in the Christian sacraments: “Ours today is the circumcision, the anointing of priests, etc. . . . Ours is the honor of the Temple!”100 Thanks to the ministrations of Peter and Paul, the people of Rome are now “a holy generation, a chosen people, a priestly and royal city.” In a word, Rome was now Jerusalem.101

But Leo protests too much. His Easter sermons, like Hilary’s Tract on the Psalms, Ambrose’s De Sacramentis, Jerome’s letters from Bethlehem, and Chrysostom’s great work on the priesthood, breathe less of pious conviction than of envy. The first of these displays a positive phobia of a literal temple, against which it wages truceless war.102 “We admire the mysteries of the Jews, given to our fathers, first for their antiquity, and then for their sanctity,” says Ambrose, reassuring his followers, “But I can promise you that the Christian sacraments are both holier and older.” For the former rites go back only to Moses, while Melchizedek is the author of the latter. Quis est Melchisedek? Who but the Justice, Peace, and Wisdom of God—is there anything more timeless or holy than a pure abstraction?103 Jerome, explaining to a friend that the temple was always exclusively reserved to the Christians, concedes that the holy of holies was a wondrous thing, and promptly adds: “But doesn’t the Sepulchre of the Lord appear more worshipful to you? As often as we enter it we see the Lord lying there . . . and the Angel sitting at his feet.”104Chrysostom, constantly approached by disillusioned Christians wanting to know what has happened to the ancient glories of Israel, is able to reply with stirring rhetoric: In ancient times only Moses could approach God, but now we all see him face to face. Moses feared God—but no one fears him today. Israel heard the thunder and trembled—we hear God’s actual voice and are not afraid.105 We have angels all around us in the church today—you can see them if only you will open your mental eyes.106 The priest ministering at our altar is a more awesome object than the high priest in the temple, since “he casts aside all carnal thought and like a disembodied spirit views celestial things by pure mind alone.”107 The Jewish temple was a mere shadow, the churchmen repeat: we have the real thing. “They had the Tabernacle, we see Truth face to face!”108 Do we? Yes, indeed, “but in a higher and hidden sense.”109

Leo’s imagery manifests an awareness that in snubbing the temple the church would be missing a good thing. Actually the fathers of the preceding generation had fumbled the ball badly when they threw out the temple. But before the church could recover, a new and formidable player, Islam, had snatched it up and run the whole length of the field.

When Omar conquered and entered Jerusalem in AD 638 he asked first of all to be shown “the glorious Temple that Solomon had built,” only to discover that the Christians had converted the place into a garbage dump.110 The treasure that the churchmen had so foolishly thrown away the Muslims were quick to exploit, promptly rebuilding the temple and restoring it to its prestige as a center of world pilgrimage.111 They had already harnessed its unique powers by “transferring to Mecca cosmological ideas in vogue among Jews and Christians concerning the sanctuary of Jerusalem,”112 and though the legends of the Kaaba, of its founding and refounding by Adam and Abraham as an earthly replica of the eternal preexistent heavenly prototype, etc., were borrowed freely from Jerusalem, there is no long history of bitter rivalry between the two.113 For Islam, Jerusalem remained par excellence the City of the Holy House, and as late as the eleventh century anyone who could not make the hajj to Mecca was instructed to go to the great feast at Jerusalem instead.114 The Muslim intellectuals, exactly as the Jewish and Christian doctors before them, protested against the glorification of a mere building, and campaigned vigorously against the pilgrimages,115 but the temple had a powerful advocate in Christian jealousy. Like children fighting for a toy, each faction came to prize the temple more highly when it saw how much the other wanted it.

This jealous rivalry became apparent on the very day Omar entered Jerusalem and visited the temple ruins “in all humility and simplicity.” The Christians, who saw in his unassuming manner “only a Satanic hypocrisy,” were piously horrified at the sight, and the Patriarch Sophronius cried out: “This, surely, is the Abomination of Desolation in the Temple, of which David [sic] prophesied.”116 For the Christians it was their temple now, though they had turned it into a dung heap.117 Such horror the Jews of old had expressed at the sight of profane feet in the temple, and presently the Muslims took up the refrain, banishing Christians and Jews on pain of death from the sacred precincts “where the Saracens believe, according to their law, that their prayers are more readily answered than anywhere else.”118 The only genuine religious clashes between Christians and Muslims, Friedrich Müller informs us of the Crusades, were the two fights for the temple, when the Christians took it in 1099 and the Muslims got it back in 1187—”und damit war die Geschichte des Glaubenskrieges als solches ziemlich aus.”119 Solomon’s temple was in each case, as it had been in Jewish times, the last redoubt; there alone neither side gave or asked for quarter; it was the ultimate all-out objective, and each conqueror in turn entered the holy place with songs of apocalyptic joy.120

Actually the possession of the temple complex was more than a mere matter of prestige. In the endless rivalries of the Christian sects there was just one claim to supreme authority that could neither be duplicated nor matched: “Those who cannot be reached by scriptural and doctrinal arguments,” says a writing attributed to Athanasius, are bound to credit the claims of that church which holds the holy places, including “Zion, where the salvation of the world was worked out. . . . And if the opposition say that we hold those places by the brute force of imperial arms, let them know that . . . Christ has never allowed His Places to fall into the hands of heretics.” It was a strong argument until Islam took over.121

From the fourth century on, Christians were taught to view the Holy Sepulchre rather than the temple as the religious center of the universe. But in supplanting the temple its Christian counterpart could never escape the claims and traditions of its predecessors—in Jerusalem the pilgrim was never out of the shadow of the temple, as is strikingly illustrated in the Lady Aetheria’s (Silvia’s) full description of the Easter celebration at Jerusalem at the end of the fourth century.

According to Aetheria, the great culmination of the pilgrimage was the dies enceniarum commemorating the dedication of the great Churches of the Cross and the Holy Sepulchre and of the Temple of Solomon. The supreme consummation and fulfillment of all the pilgrim’s toil and yearning, as the lady describes it, was that moment when he was permitted to come forward and kiss the true Cross on Golgotha, “at the same time kissing the ring of Solomon and the horn with which the kings of Israel were anointed.”122 Again, the great annual sermon attended by all the clergy and the pilgrims, the only universal compulsory assembly, had to be delivered “always in that place . . . to which on the 40th day Joseph and Mary brought the Lord in the Temple.”123 Silvia’s pilgrim is never allowed to forget that he is a pilgrim to the temple.124 Indeed, whatever was holy about the Holy City was made such by contact with the temple, which, as Photius observes, “has the power to sanctify other things . . . a sort of divine grace to make holy.”125 Thus “the temple consecrated the city” and progressively sanctified the holy mountain, the Holy City, the Holy Land, and ultimately the whole earth;126 “the Eternal Presence renders the new Jerusalem one vast naos,” where John saw no temple, not because there was none, but because it was all temple.127

In the reports of both Eastern and Western travelers the various holy places of the temple complex are constantly confused and identified with each other.128Especially common is the locating of the Holy Sepulchre, the holy of holies, and the Cross of Golgotha (directly over the skull of Adam) at one and the same spot.129In old maps and drawings the temple and the Holy Sepulchre are depicted alike, as a circular structure marking the exact center of the earth, with its four shrines marking the points of the compass. The two are virtually identical.130

Upon taking Jerusalem in 1099 the Crusaders moved straight to the object of their desire, the Holy Sepulchre, and then proceeded directly to Solomon’s temple: ad dominicum sepulcrum, dehinc etiam ad Templum.131 As they marched they sang apocalyptic hymns of joy hailing the millennial day and the New Jerusalem.132 The Crusades are a reminder that Christianity was never able to settle for a spiritual temple or forget the old one: “It is foolish and unmeet,” writes an indignant churchman, “for Fulcher to distort utterances applying to the spiritual reign and to spiritual things in such a way as to make them apply to buildings or earthly localities, which mean nothing at all to God.” But Fulcher knew what he was doing: “at the time,” our critic confesses, “everybody was sunk in the error of that kind of gross darkness, clergy and laity, learned and military alike.”133 To explain away the disturbing veneration of the Crusaders for the temple, scholars have argued that they were really confusing it with the Holy Sepulchre;134 but they could hardly have confused the most sacred object on earth with anything but another very sacred object, and it is absurd to suppose that when they spoke of the Temple of Solomon they had no idea of what they were talking about.135 Typical of modern prejudice is the naive insistence that the Knights Templars took their singular title from their street address, their headquarters being by the merest coincidence near the site of Solomon’s temple. But if the title Pauperes commilitione Christi templique Salomoniaci means anything, it means that these gentlemen fought for Christ and the Temple of Solomon, and were perfectly aware that the institution of the pilgrimage, which it was their special office to render secure, went back to the days of the temple.136

Though freely admitting the liturgical indebtedness of the church to the synagogue, students of ritual and liturgy have displayed singular reluctance to concede anything at all to the temple.137 Yet if the church of the fourth and fifth centuries, while embracing popular heathen cult practices everywhere, also aped the synagogue with a zeal that was almost comical,138 we must not forget that “the worship of the early Synagogue was based on the Temple liturgy.”139 Nay, the fathers, early and late, derive Christian worship directly from the temple, though like Hilary they may make a hair-splitting distinction between Jewish worship in templo and Christian worship ad templum.140 They boast that the church possesses all the physical properties of the temple—the oil, the myrrh, the altar, and incense, hymns, priestly robes, etc., everything, in fact, but the temple itself, for “in the place of the tangible Temple we behold the spiritual.”141 Strange, that the solid walls should vanish and all the rest remain! Even the unleavened bread was retained in the West as an acknowledged heritage of the temple, in spite of the much more appropriate spiritual symbolism of the leavened bread preferred by the Eastern churches, “for we do not reject all the practices of the Old Law,” says Rupert in explaining this, “We still offer incense . . . daily, the holy oil of anointing is among us, we have bells in the place of ancient trumpets, and many suchlike things.”142 So we find “veils of the Temple” in Christian churches,143 inner shrines called tabernacles, awesome holies of holies entered only by prince and patriarch for the year-rite,144 buildings and altars oriented like synagogues—which imitated the temple in that respect,145 dedication rites faithfully reproducing those of Solomon’s temple,146 and a body of hymns “so obviously sung in the Temple that there is no need for any words to prove this.”147 In ritual texts priests are regularly referred to as Levites, and the bishop, though his office and title derive from the synagogue and not the temple, is equated with Aaron the high priest. Rabanus Maurus leaves us in no doubt of what his people were thinking when they hailed their fine church with templum Domini, templum Domini, templum Domini est!148

The Dread and Envy of Them All

Though it did not need to be pointed out to them, the Jews were ever reminded by Christian theologians that without their temple they were helpless.149 On the other hand, the churchmen recognized with a shudder that if they ever got their temple back again the same Jews would be very dangerous indeed. “If the Jews had [their ancient institutions],” Athanasius observes, “then they could deny that Christ had come . . . ; but now all prophecy is sealed, and their gift of prophecy, their holy city, and their Temple are taken away—forever.”150

That ringing “forever” is the key to the whole problem. The joy of the clergy, some of whom take genuine pleasure in reporting every fresh disaster and indignity to the temple, would be cold comfort indeed were this Banquo ever to rise and push them from their stools. The most disturbing aspect of the temple was the apocalyptic assurance of its restoration, and every device of rhetoric and logic (in the absence of a single verse of scripture to support the thesis and a great many to refute it) was employed to convince the world that the prophetic “forever” applied not to the restoration of the temple, but to its destruction.151 The strongest argument was the historical one, the case stated by Hippolytus, that since the temple has never been restored it should be plain to all “by now” that it never will be. The greatest comfort Origen can muster for the future is the fact that in his day the temple cult had been interrupted for a longer period than ever before. True, the suspended rites have always been resumed in the past, but in this case enough time has passed to warrant one in being so bold as to express an opinion that they will never be restored.152 Later theologians built the feeble argument into their chief bulwark against the temple, Chrysostom reinforcing it with the observation that while Josephus describes the destruction of the temple, he has nothing to say of its restoration, which proves “that he did not dare predict that it would be restored again,” which in turn proves that it never can be!153 Actually “the remorseless logic of history,” far from “confuting” early Christian hopes for the temple,154 has seriously confuted the opposition, whose program has always called for a complete transfer of the ancient heritage to the new church, a transfer which “the continued existence of the Jewish nation and cult” has rendered desperately overdue.155

How touchy an issue the temple has always been is shown clearly enough by the extreme reluctance of the churchmen to talk about it. Anything that even reminds them of it seems to rub them on a raw place. The mere sight of its ruins, instead of providing the eyes of the monks of Palestine with a gratifying spectacle and an edifying object lesson as the pagan ruins did, drove them wild with fury—”a detestable thing that causes appallment to the worshippers of Christ.”156 The Jews had to pay a heavy tariff for the luxury of mourning at those ruins, for their mourning was not only a reminder of what the temple had been, but also of what it would be.157No wonder the exasperated fathers ask the Jews why they insist on hanging around Jerusalem after their temple has been destroyed, and bid them take the hint and be gone: “Everything you treasured in Jerusalem now lies in ruins, and your world-renowned temple is now the city dump of a town called Aelia.”158 On the other hand, Theophylactus reports that people even in his day tried to prove from the presence of ruins on the holy mount “that Christ was a liar.”159

This last point, and the fundamental insecurity which underlay it, is illustrated by one of the most dramatic Christian legends, in which the mere report of the Emperor Julian’s intention to assist in rebuilding the temple was magnified into the greatest crime, and its failure into the greatest miracle, of postapostolic history.160 The story begins with the Jews announcing to the monarch that they are paralyzed without their temple: “We cannot worship without it.”161 The wily emperor sees that the Christians will be equally paralyzed by its restoration, and plans in the rebuilding of the temple to deliver the coup de grâce to Christianity by demonstrating once and for all that Jesus was a false prophet.162 For the Christians the whole issue of the truth and survival of their religion hinges on the rebuilding of the temple. To make this clear to all, the bishop of Jerusalem, we are told, had gone about preaching that in Daniel and the Gospels the Lord had predicted that the Jews would never, to the end of time, be able to place one stone of the temple upon another.163 Since the bishop (whose extensive writings make no mention of our story) preached no such thing,164 since no such prophecy exists in the scriptures, and since the restoration of the temple would not confute a single recorded utterance of Jesus, it is plain that the churchmen themselves have chosen to make an issue of the temple and thereby rendered coexistence of church and temple impossible.165 In this case only one solution was possible: a succession of stunning and theatrical miracles in the best fourth-century tradition (but also of a type of miracle story that had been growing up around the temple for many centuries)166 frustrated the evil project at every step. Day after day the stubborn Jews persisted, and day after day great balls of fire chased them all over the temple rock, consuming them like flies, while the earth shook and the heavens gave forth with a succession of superspectacular displays. Among all the conflicting accounts, Michael Adler had no difficulty finding the most probable source of the legends, which grow like a snowball;167 yet to this day Christian scholars cite the fantastic and contradictory stories not only as actual fact, but also as positive proof that Jerusalem and the temple can never be restored.168

When Athanasius assures us that no crime can be more monstrous than that of converting a church into a synagogue, he makes it clear that that is not because one poor synagogue more or less makes so much difference, but because such a gesture “prepares the way” for the sitting of the antichrist in the temple.169 The antichrist-in-the-temple prophecy has always cast a dark shadow over the pages of the fathers, and though most of them prefer an allegorical interpretation, a large and influential number of them insist on taking the thing literally, however terrible the prospect. It is definitive templum Dei, whether we like it or not, they assure us, and before the adversary can usurp his place in the temple, that temple must be rebuilt.170

Church writers have done their best to brighten the gloomy picture. They have reassured us that the only really literal aspect of the temple was its destruction;171 they have told comforting stories of frustrated attempts to rebuild it;172 they report with a great sigh of relief the collapse of the Montanist project for rebuilding the New Jerusalem;173 and, as we have seen, they taxed the resources of exegesis to discover a ray of hope in the scriptures. Yet all this but betrays rather than allays their misgivings: towards the Jews and their temple, their words and deeds remain those of men haunted by a sense of insecurity.174 Why otherwise would they forbid the Jews even to imitate the architecture of the temple in their synagogues?175 The intellectuals who liquidated the temple once and for all in the economy of the church fondly supposed that their own eloquence could more than take its place: while the emperors have taken upon themselves the expense and responsibility of erecting the physical edifice, Jerome assures us, it is eloquentia that warrants the tabernacling of the Spirit therein.176 If the temple of the Spirit was built without hands, human tongues worked overtime on the project, and the finished structure remains a typically unconvincing production of the Age of Rhetoric.177

The Reformation as a reaction against ritualism could hardly be expected to capitalize on the Christian need for the temple or its equivalent, and indeed leading Protestant scholars confess that vagueness and uncertainty in ritual matters was perhaps the most serious defect in the work of the Reformers.178 Yet the Protestant experience seems simply to be repeating the cycle, for we have seen how the doctors of ancient times condemned the temple and its rites with overhasty zeal, and how their successors, seeking like Esau to mend the damage and “inherit the blessing” when it was all too late, introduced into the vacuum a botched and hybrid ritual. It was the pagan element in that ritual which the Reformers found so objectionable and exposed so skillfully.179 Neither group has grounds for complacency, and it would be hard to determine which of the two condemns the temple with greater vigor.

By loosely and inaccurately equating the temple with the synagogue, it has been possible for Christian scholars in the past to claim victory for the church without the painful necessity of mentioning the temple too much or even at all, the assumption being that the church’s triumph over the synagogue answereth all things.180 But with the current emphasis on eschatology and ritual, the temple can no longer be kept in the background. Eschatologie hat über uns keine Macht mehr! has been the common creed of the clergy,181 but eschatology now returns like an unwelcome ghost, and with it comes the temple. So while some Christian scholars still denounce the temple with surprising vehemence,182 others are markedly hesitant,183 and still others have reached the point of unabashedly accepting “the literalness of the future temple and its sacrificial system.”184 All three of these attitudes bespeak a sense of insecurity and inadequacy.

The moral of our tale is that the Christian world has been perennially haunted by the ghost of the temple—a ghost in which it does not believe. If the least be said for it, the temple has never lost its power to stir men’s imaginations and excite their emotions, and the emotion which it has most often inspired in Christian breasts has certainly been that of envy, a passion the more dangerous for being suppressed. The temple has cast a shadow over the claims and the confidence of the Christian church from early times, a shadow which is by no means diminishing in our own day. If we seem to have labored the obvious in pointing this out, it is only because the obvious has been so long and so resolutely denied or ignored in high places.

Notes

“Christian Envy of the Temple” first appeared in the Jewish Quarterly Review 50 (1959—60): 97—123, 229—40. The article was reprinted with the same title in When the Lights Went Out (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1970), 55—88, and in Mormonism and Early Christianity (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1987), 391—434.

1.  Samuel G. F. Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church (London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1951), 10—11. 2.  Ibid., 250. 3.  While opposing the usual tendency to minimize the temple in the economy of the early church, for example, ibid., 29, 39, 164—65, 263, Brandon bestows upon the city of Jerusalem the laurels that rightfully belong to the temple, for example, 19—21. 4.  “Mirum est quod quase hunc locum ita praetergressi sint.” Adam Praemonstratensis (Adam of St. Victor), De tripartito tabernaculo (On the Tripartite Tabernacle) 2 (PL 198:625). Richard of St. Victor writes on the same subject by popular demand—”rogatus ab amicis,” in De tabernaculo (On the Tabernacle) 1 (PL 196:211—12). 5.  Adam of St. Victor, On the Tripartite Tabernacle 2 (PL 198:625); Richard of St. Victor, On the Tabernacle 1 (PL 196:211—12), and 2 (PL 196:223—42; cf. PL 196:306). 6.  Of the latter calamity Bishop John Kaye writes: “The silence of ecclesiastical history respecting the cessation . . . is to be ascribed . . . to the combined operation of prejudice and policy—of prejudice which made them reluctant to believe, of policy which made them anxious to conceal the truth.” John Kaye, Ecclesiastical History of the Second and Third Centuries, Illustrated from the Writings of Tertullian (London: Griffith Farran, 1894), 50. 7.  Discussed by Brandon, Fall of Jerusalem, 39, 127, 262—64. See note 66 below. 8.  Eusebius, Historica ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) 7.24.1—9 (PG 20:692—96), quoting Dionysius at length. Jerome, Commentarius in Isaiam prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) 18 (PL 24:627). 9.  “Quem non solum suae sectae homines, sed et nostrorum in hac parte dumtaxat plurima sequitur multitudo, ut praesaga mente jam cernam quantorum in me rabies concitanda sit.” Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 18 (PL 24:627).

10. Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 18 (PL 24:627). The case for the literalists is stated by Cyril of Jerusalem, who insists that Jesus meant the real temple when he spoke of his Father’s house: “Toi Christoi peisthesometha toi legonti peri tou hierou [i.e., Luke 2:49; John 2:16] . . . di’ hon saphestata ton en Hierosolymois proteron naon oikon einai tou heautou Patros homologei.” Catechesis VII. de Patre (Catechetical Lecture on the Father) 6 (PG 33:612).

11. Jerome, Commentary on Jeremiah 31.38 (PL 24:920): “Judaei videlicet et nostri Judaizantes, conantur ostendere . . . ibi dicunt sanctuarium Domini, id est templum esse condendum, mansurumque in perpetuum,” etc.; cf. Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 15.54 (PL 24:516). 12.  Henry J. Cadbury, “Acts and Eschatology,” in The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology, ed. William D. Davies and David Daube (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 309, 316.

13. Therefore even Solomon’s temple was “neque legitimum neque devotum,” according to Zeno, Tractatus (Tractate) 1.14 (PL 11:355), since God “reprobat . . . tam immensum, tam insigne, tam opulens templum,” etc., ibid. (PL 11:356—58). The same argument is used by Hilary, Tractatus super Psalmos (Treatise on the Psalms) 126 (PL 9:694—99); Lactantius, Divinae institutiones (Divine Institutes) 6.25 (PL 6:728—32); Isidore, Epistolae (Letters) 4.70 (PG 78:1132—33); cf. 1.20 (PG 78:196), and 1.196 (PG 78:356); Procopius, Commentarius in Isaiam (Commentary on Isaiah) 6.5 (PG 87:1937).

14. Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica (Preparation for the Gospel) 3.13—17 (PG 21:220—28); Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 5.11 (PG 9:112—16); 7.5 (PG 9:436—40). Theodoret, Graecarum affectionum curatio sermo (Sermon on the Treatment of Greek Illnesses) 3 (PG 83:885), quotes Zeno and Plato in this connection.

15.  Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4; Dominican ed., 29:152—77. 16.  William J. Phythian-Adams, The People and the Presence (London: Oxford University Press, 1942), 60.

17. 2 Chronicles 6:18.

18. So Irenaeus, Contra haereses (Against Heresies) 4.34.4 (PG 7:1085—86); Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 118.4 (PL 9:643); Lactantius, Divine Institutes 4.14 (PL 6:1021—22); Chrysostom, De sancta Pentecoste homilia (Homily on the Holy Pentecost) 1.1 (PG 50:453), etc. This was a favorite theme with the moderns who feel that the liquidation of the temple was indispensable to “the absolution of God’s worship from all bonds of time and nationality.” Bernhard Weiss, The Life of Christ, trans. John W. Hope (Edinburgh: Clark, 1883—84), 3:261.

19. Jacob S. Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals (New York: Philosophical Library, 1953), 225; cf. 15—16, 34, 94. 20.  So Ernest Renan, Antichrist (Boston: Roberts, 1897), 187—88; Arthur S. Peake, ed., The People and the Book (Oxford: Clarendon, 1925), 281.

21. Quotations are, respectively, from Andrew M. Fairbairn, Philosophy of the Christian Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1902), 487, and Albert T. Olmstead, Jesus in the Light of History (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1942), 69—70; cf. Stanley A. Cook, The Old Testament (New York: Macmillan, 1936), 130. 22.  Quotation from John B. Bury. From early times Christians debated the cosmic significance of the oneness of the temple: Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 5.9 (PG 9:112): “Palin ho Mouses . . . hena d’oun neon hidrysamenos tou Theou monogene te kosmon . . . kai ton hena, hos ouk eti toi Basileidei dokei, katengele Theon.” 23.  “The purpose [ratio] of the unity of the temple or tabernacle . . . was to fix in men’s minds the unity of the divine faith, God desiring that sacrifice be made to him in one place only.” Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4; Dominican ed., 29:161. On the lack of a centralizing force, see Louis M. O. Duchesne, Early History of the Christian Church (London: Murray, 1931), 2:521—26. Cf. note 2 above.

24. Peter Cantor, Verbum abbreviatum (The Abridged Word) 29 (PL 205:104, 106—7). The historian Socrates, Historica ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) 5.22 (PG 67:625—45), made the same observation in the fifth century.

25. This is the “messe publique,” the oldest exemplar of which Louis M. O. Duchesne calls “un cérémonial fort postérieur à 1’âge antique.” Origines du culte chrétien, 2nd ed. (Paris: Thorin, 1898), 154; 5th ed. (1920), 172.

26. Cantor, The Abridged Word 29 (PL 205:104, 106—7); so also Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14.3 (PL 9:301).

27. Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14.3 (PL 9:301); Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel 5.1 (PG 21:312); Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 13.47 (PL 24:471—72); Leo Magnus, Sermo (Discourse) 59.8 (PL 54:341); Chrysostom, Contra Judaeos et Gentiles, quod Christus sit Deus (Against the Jews and the Gentiles, That Christ Is God) 12 (PG 48:829—30); cf. Chrysostom, De cruce et latrone (On the Cross and the Thief) 2.1 (PG 49:409); Chrysostom, De capto Eutropio et de divitiarum vanitate (On the Capture of Eutropius and the Vanity of Wealth) 15 (PG 52:410).

28. See the discussion by A. le Nourry in PG 9:900—902. A writing attributed to Athanasius admits that the multiplication of shrines presents “a strange and paradoxical problem”—xenon kai paradoxon to eperotema—to which the author gives an even stranger solution. See Quaestiones ad Antiochum Ducem (Questions to Duke Antiochus) 26 (PG 28:613). 29.  The temple represents the world—ho naos de hos oikos Theou holon ton kosmon typoi, and since there is but “one world, above and below . . . analogous to the order of the Church,” the church itself is one temple which ho archiereus monos syn tois hieromenois eiserchetai; Symeon Thessalonicensis, De sacro templo (On the Holy Temple) 131 (PG 155:337—40). Cf. Leo, Discourse 54.8 (PL 54: 341); Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 121 (PL 9:662—63); and Theodoret, Treatment of Greek Illnesses 6 (PG 83:989).

30. Fulgentius, Contra Fabianum (Against Fabian) 34 (PL 65:811—12); Photius, Epistolae (Letters) 1.8.31 (PG 102:665); Wolbero, Commentaria in Canticum Canticorum (Commentary on the Song of Solomon) 3.5.15 (PL 195:1203).

31. Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4; Dominican ed., 29:161: “Et ideo, ut firmaretur in animis hominum fides unitatis divinae, voluit Deus ut in uno loco tantum sibi sacrificium offerretur. . . . Sed cultus novae legis . . . Deo acceptus,” etc. 32.  Ibid., articuli iv and v. Thomas himself at the beginning of articulus iv refutes the common doctrine of a purely spiritual temple.

33. Anastasius Bibliothecarius, Historia de vitis romanorum pontificum (History of the Lives of the Roman Pontiffs) 112, about Stephen VI (PL 128:1399).

34. August Neander, The Life of Jesus Christ, 4th ed. (New York: Harper, 1858), 180—81.

35. Charles M. Laymon, Life and Teachings of Jesus (New York: Abingdon, 1955), 280.

36. Leo, Discourse 3 (PL 54:145). 37.  Frederick C. Grant, An Introduction to New Testament Thought (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1950), 14.

38. Barnabas, Epistola catholica (Catholic Epistle) 16 (PG 2:771—76). Cf. TB Yebamot 6b: “lo’ mim-miqdas ‘attah mityare’ ‘elle’ mimmi se-hizhir ‘al ham-miqdas.” While the temple was still standing, the principle had been established that the efficacy of every species of expiation was morally conditioned. Moore, quoted in William D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1948), 257.

39. “Neque enim domum incusabat [Jesus] . . . sed eos, qui non bene utebantur domo.” Irenaeus, Against Heresies 4.2.6 (PG 7:978). Even Stephen’s sermon (Acts 7), usually viewed as an attack on the temple, is rather an appeal for a proper sense of values. See William Manson, The Epistle to the Hebrews (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1951), 28, 30, 34. 40.  Quotations from Origen, Commentaria in Evangelium secundum Matthaeum (Commentary on Matthew) 14.22—23 (PG 13:1452— 53), and Commentaria in Evangelium Joannis (Commentary on John) 10.16 (PG 14:349). The temple is built of simplicity, intellect, veritas, pudicitia, continentia, etc. Zeno, Tractate 1.14 (PL 11:361—62). The theme is extremely popular with theologians.

41. Jewish and Christian doctors alike “spun out abstract doctrines far beyond the ken of the common folk, and insisted that these are the truths of religion and morality. Nor are we closing the gap today.” Max Kadushin, The Rabbinic Mind (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1952), 87—88. “The fathers,” says Edward Gibbon, “deem themselves secure and invulnerable behind the ample veil of allegory, which they carefully spread over every tender part of the Mosaic dispensation.” Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (New York: Modern Library, 1932), 1:393 n. 31. 42.  Origen, Commentary on John 10.20 (PG 14:369—70). Amphotera mentoige, to te hieron kai to soma tou Iesou—it is quite possible for it to be two or more things at once.

43. Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarius in Michaeam prophetam (Commentary on Micah) 4.1.2 (PG 71:644). Cf. Symeon, On the Holy Temple 128 (PG 155:336); Photius, Contra Manichaeos (Against the Manichaeans) 2 (PG 102:108). 44.  Thus Rupert, Liber Regum (Commentary on Kings) 3.6—29 (PL 167:1147—75); Hugh of St. Victor, Allegoriae in Vetus Testamentum (Allegories on the Old Testament) 3.9 (PL 175:661—63); Hugh of St. Victor, De claustro animae (On the Fortress of the Soul) 3.17 (PL 176:1118—20); Alan of Lille, Sententiae, no. 16, 22 (PL 210:236—37, 240); Garnerus, “De Templo” (“On the Temple”), in Gregorianum 13.8 (PL 193:398—400); Adam of St. Victor, Sermones (Sermons) 40 (PL 198:363—71).

45. See notes 152—57 below. 46.  Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 126 (PL 9:694—95). Cf. Olmstead, Jesus in the Light of History, 69.

47. “From the beginning the destruction of the Temple and the eventual cessation of the sacrifices had been anticipated.” Grant, Introduction to New Testament Thought, 14. As early as 587 BC “the old dogma that it was blasphemy even to speak of the destructibility of the temple was shattered.” Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 82.

48. In the Odes of Solomon the temple is “préexistant au monde et, de plus, il subsiste hors du monde.” Pierre Batiffol, “Les odes de Salomon,” Revue biblique 20 n.s. 8 (1911): 40. “Est ergo altare in coelis, et templum.” Irenaeus, Against Heresies 4.18 (PG 7:1024—29). Cf. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 162 n. 2.

49. L. J. Liebereich, “Compilation of the Book of Isaiah,” Jewish Quarterly Review 46 (1956): 272. See Testament of Levi 14—18, Testament of Benjamin 9, and Testament of Naphtali 4.

50. Barnabas, Catholic Epistle 16 (PG 2:771—76). That paradosei here means “remove,” “take out of circulation,” is clear from parallel passages in Matthew 24:9 and Didache 16.4; cf. Robert H. Charles, The Book of Enoch (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1912), 198—204.

51. Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14 (PL 9:301—2): “Sed mons Domini nullus in terra est: omnis enim terra jam pridem per vitia hominum maledictis obnoxia est.”

52. Athanasius, Quaestiones in Pauli epistolas (Questions on the Epistles of Paul) 127 (PG 28:769); Peter Damian, Dialogus inter Judaeum et Christianum (Dialogue between a Jew and a Christian) 9 (PL 145:59); Rupert, Liber in Numeros (Commentary on Numbers) 2.21 (PL 167:901); Richard of St. Victor, On the Tabernacle 1 (PL 196:212); Richard of St. Victor, Adnotationes mysticae in Psalmos (Mystic Comments on Psalms) 28 (PL 196:306); Richard of St. Victor, In Apocalypsim Joannis (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) 7.2 (PL 196:860); Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4, conclusion; Andrew of Caesarea, Commentarius in Apocalypsin (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) 21.3—4 (PG 106:425); Wolbero, Commentary on the Song of Solomon 4 (PL 195:1275). 53.  For Tertullian the glory of the temple was extinguished by the mere declaration of the Lord that it was a den of thieves. De pudicitia (On Modesty) 1 (PL 2:1033—34). It was not the money changers as such, but really the Jews, that Christ was expelling forever, according to Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarius in Amos prophetam (Commentary on Amos) 19 (PG 71:443—44); Leo, Sermones attributi (Attributed Discourses) 14 (PL 54:507); Rupert, Commentarius in Zachariam prophetam (Commentary on Zechariah) 2.5 (PL 168:735—36), and Commentary on Amos 2.3—4 (PL 168:301). For Ernst W. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament, 2nd ed. (Edinburgh: Clark, 1856—58), 4:248, the “den of thieves” verdict “rendered the continuance of the former [temple] absolutely impossible.”

54. “Evidens . . . translatio.” Leo, Discourse 68.3 (PL 54:374). 55.  “Nun de . . . eisi hoi polountes kai agorazontes en toi hieroi . . . kai oudamou Iesous epiphainetai hina ekbalon sosei tous loipous.” Origen, Commentary on Matthew 16.21 (PG 13:1444—45, 1417, 1448): “All’ eithe eiselthon eis to hieron tou Patros . . . kataballoi Iesous tas . . . trapezas.” Cf. Origen, Homiliae in Jeremiam (Homilies on Jeremiah) 9 (PG 13:348). Cf. Gregorius Magnus (Gregory the Great), Epistolae (Letters) 11.46 (PL 77:1166); Theophylactus, Enarratio in Marcum (Commentary on the Gospel of Mark) 11.15—18 (PG 123:616); Photius, Against the Manichaeans 4.23 (PG 102:229); Alcuin, Commentaria in Sancti Joannis Evangelium (Commentary on John) 2.4.14—15 (PL 100:773).

56. Photius, Against the Manichaeans 4.23 (PG 102:229); so Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lecture on the Father 7 (PG 33:612).

57. Thus Hippolytus, Demonstratio adversus Judaeos (Against the Jews) 7 (PG 10:792); Juvencus, Evangelica historia (Gospel History) 4.75—80 (PL 19:286—87). This prophecy was “the final ‘Let us depart hence’ of retiring Deity,” according to Frederic W. Farrar, The Life of Christ (New York: Cassell, 1903), 2:255, who notes that thirty-five years later Deity finally departed! “Those few words completed the prophecy of Israel’s desolation.” Isidore O’Brien, The Life of Christ (Paterson, N.J.: St. Anthony Guild, 1937), 418; 4th ed., 472.

58. Vincent Taylor, Jesus and His Sacrifice (London: Macmillan, 1937), 71. 59.  So Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 15.52 (PL 24:513—24). Leo, Discourse 68 (PL 54:374); Theophanes, Homilia (Homily) 27 (PG 132:600). A. Feuillet, “Le sens du mot parousie dans 1’évangile de Matthieu,” in Davies and Daube, Background of the New Testament, 268.

60. Cassiodorus, Expositio in Psalterium (Commentary on the Psalms) 21 (PL 70:158); Rupert, Commentarius in Apocalypsim Joannis (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) 9.15 (PL 169:1111); Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 14.52 (PL 24:498); Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4; Clarence T. Craig, The Beginning of Christianity (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1943), 183. For a more recent treatment, see Dennis Sylva, “The Temple Curtain and Jesus’ Death in the Gospel of Luke,” Journal of Biblical Literature 105 (1986): 239—50. 61.  Farrar, Life of Christ, 1:194—95. Some scholars find the passage too hot to handle and declare it to be “not in the original utterance of Jesus,” but “the travesty of the false witness.” Benjamin W. Robinson, Jesus in Action (New York: Macmillan, 1942), 77.

62. Gibbon, Decline and Fall, 1:393 n. 31; cf. Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 31.

63.  Quotation from Gordon Leff, “In Search of the Millennium,” Past and Present 13 (April 1958): 92.

64. Many writers present Jesus as a would-be restorer of temple worship, with the temple as his headquarters. Thus Arthur C. Headlam, Jesus Christ in History and Faith (London: Murray, 1925), 137—39; Rudolf K. Bultmann, Theologie des Neuen Testaments, 4th ed. (Tübingen: Mohr, 1961), 1:17; cf. English translation, Theology of the New Testament, trans. Kendrick Grobel (New York: Scribner, 1951); Benjamin W. Bacon, Studies in Matthew (New York: Holt, 1930), 242—43.

65. “Recent research has shown that prophets had a regular part in the temple cultus.” Millar Burrows, Outline of Biblical Theology (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1946), 255. 66.  For a comprehensive statement, see James Strahan, “Temple,” in Dictionary of the Apostolic Church, ed. James Hastings (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1916—22), 2:556—57; and Brandon, Fall of Jerusalem, 21, 29, 39, 127, 263, even vindicating Stephen’s position, 89, 127—29, 263. 67.  Nils A. Dahl, “Christ, Creation, and the Church,” in Davies and Daube, Background of the New Testament, 430—31, 424. Quotation is from Krister Stendahl, “Implications of Form Criticism and Tradition-Criticism for Biblical Interpretation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 77 (1958): 36—37. 68.  For closely paralleled Jewish, Christian, and classical concepts, see Bernhard Kötting, Peregrinatio Religiosa (Münster: Regensberg, 1950), 57—69, 287—88. The familiar temple imagery in Christian liturgy was disseminated directly by pilgrims coming from Jerusalem. Anton Baumstark, Abendländische Palästinapilger (Cologne: Bachen, 1906), 31, 80—83. 69.  Charles K. Barrett, “The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Davies and Daube, Background of the New Testament, 382.

70. F.-M. Abel, “Jérusalem,” in Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie, ed. Fernand Cabrol and Henri Leclerq (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1907), 7:2311; cf. Sulpicius Severus, Historia sacra (Sacred History) 2.48 (PL 20:156—57), and note 10 above. 71.  Gregorius Nyssenus, Epistolae (Letters) 2.3 (PG 46:1012—13, 1016); Basil the Great, Moralia, Regula 67 (PG 31:808; cf. PG 31:805); Chrysostom, Ad populum Antiochenum (To the People of Antioch) 17 (PG 49:177—80); and Chrysostom, Homily on the Holy Pentecost 1 (PG 50:453—64).

72. Quotation is from Charles N. Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1940), 211; for the concept, see Eusebius, De laudibus Constantini (In Praise of Constantine) 4—6 and 10 (PG 20:1332—52, 1372—76).

73.  For a discussion, see Michael S. Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” Saeculum 7 (1956): 395—412. 74.  See Hugh W. Nibley, “The Hierocentric State,” in The Ancient State (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book and FARMS, 1991), 99—147. W. F. Albright sees in Solomon’s temple “a rich cosmic symbolism which was largely lost in later Israelite and Jewish tradition.” William F. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1942), 154—55; cf. 88—89, 167. 75.  Eusebius, In Praise of Constantine 4—6 and 10 (PG 20:1332—52, 1372—76); and De Vita Constantini (On the Life of Constantine) 3.33—39 (PG 20:1093—1100); 4.60 (PG 20:1209—12).

76. Contemporaries hail him as “the new Bezeliel or Zerubabel, who builds . . . blessed temples of . . . Christ.” Antiochus Monachus, Prologus (PG 89:1428).

77. Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 10.4.45—46 (PG 20:876—77).

78. So Zeno, Tractate 1.14 (PL 11:354—62); Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1.2.9 (PL 24:49); 17 (PL 24:593); and Jerome, Epistolae (Letters) 52.10 (PL 22:535); 130.14 (PL 22:1119); 46—47 (PL 22:492).

79. Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 10.4.45—46 (PG 20:876—77): “hos meketi logon, all’ ergon gegonenai ten ano lechtheisan propheteian [Haggai 2:9], gegonen gar kai nun hos alethos estin.”

80. See the editor’s enthusiastic comment on the oratory of Paulinus, Appendix operum Sancti Paulini (Appendix to the Works of Saint Paulinus) (PL 61:929). 81.  Abel, “Jérusalem,” 2312, for the timing. It is Zonaras, Annales (Annals) 11.23 (PG 134:996), who locates the Roman temple, following Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.17 (PG 67:117—21). According to Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 3.28 (PG 20:1088—89), as the digging proceeded, “to semnon kai panagion tes soteriou anastaseos martyrion par’ elpida pasan anephaineto, kai to te hagion ton hagion antron ten homoian tes tou Soteros anabioseos apelambanen eikona.” That this is not a mere parallelism is indicated by the kai . . . te and homoian.

82. Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 3.33 (PG 20:1093): kai de tou pantos hosper tina kephalen, proton hapanton to hieron antron, etc., noting that this was the very New Jerusalem that had been foretold by the prophets—an eschatological structure. Cf. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.17 (PG 67:117—21).

83. Theodoret, Explanatio in Ezechielem (Explanation of Ezekiel) 48.35 (PG 81:1253). 84.  Chrysostom, Sermo post reditum ab exsilio (Discourse following the Return from Exile) 2 (PG 52:440); “Ubi aedificabo? Absolutum est templum.” He is rejoicing that the growth of the church has burst all old traditional bounds such as the limitations of the temple. Cf. Chrysostom, Interpretatio in Isaiam prophetam (On Isaiah) 2.3 (PG 56:30, 97); Chrysostom, Homilia in Sanctum Ignatium Martyrem (Homily on St. Ignatius the Martyr) 5 (PG 50:595—96); Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae (Detailed Rules) 40 (PG 31:1020); Theodoret, Epistolae (Letters) 66—68 (PG 83:1236—37); Zeno, Liber (Commentary) 2, Tractate 46 (PL 11:520—21). Significantly, the most brilliant of these gatherings is for the feast of the Maccabees, that is, to commemorate the rededication of the temple. Chrysostom, Homilia in sanctos Maccabeos (Homily on the Holy Maccabees) 1 (PG 50:617—24).

85. Chrysostom, To the People of Antioch 17 (PG 49:177—78); Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles 9 (PG 48:825—26); Gregorius Nyssenus, Letters 17 (PG 46:1064).

86.  Constantine Manassis, Compendium Chronicum (A Compendium of Chronicles) 3267—83 (PG 127:342—43). It was a conscious imitation of Constantine’s “New Jerusalem.” Procopius, Buildings 1, discussed in the footnotes to Eusebius, The Life of Constantine (PG 20:1098—99 nn. 13—14).

87. The story is told in Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 361.

88. On Constantinople as the New House of God, see Andras Alföldi, The Conversion of Constantine and Pagan Rome (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1948), 110.

89. Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke,” 400—403. Cf. Pliny, Letter to Maximus 8.24.3.

90. See notes 26—28 above. For some amusing arguments, see also Rupert, De victoria verbi Dei (On the Victory of the Word of God) 10.10 (PL 169:1430); Peter Damian, Dialogue between a Jew and a Christian 10 (PL 145:60—61).

91. Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 4.24 (PG 20:1172); 4.42 (PG 20:1189—90).

92. So Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke,” 402—3.

93. Thus in Attributed Discourses 14.4—5 (PL 54:507), Leo says that the cathedra occupied by Moses has been torn down mystice and become a pestilentiae Cathedram, the change occurring at the moment Jesus drove the money changers from the temple.

94. Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke,” 402.

95. Ibid., 409. See Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture, chap. 5. 96.  Leo, Attributed Discourses 16; 17.1—2 (PL 54:511—13); Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1.2.9 (PL 24:49): “Ubi quondam erat templum et religio Dei, ibi Adriani statua et Jovis idolum collocatum,” which many Christians regard as literal fulfillment of Mark 13:14.

97. “Partim ignorantiae vitio, partim paganitatis spiritu.” Leo, Discourse 27.4 (PL 54:218—19); cf. 89.4 (PL 54:446).

98. Ibid., 40.5 (PL 54:271); 48.1 (PL 54:298); 49.1 (PL 54:301); 60.3 (PL 54:344); 21.3 and 22.1—2 (PL 54:192—95); 23.5 (PL 54:203); 88.4—5 and 89.1—2 (PL 54:442—46).

99. Ibid., 3.1—3 (PL 54:145—56); 5.3 (PL 54:154).

100.  “Nihil legalium institutionum, nihil propheticarum resedit figurarum, quod non totum in Christi sacramenta transierit. Nobiscum est signaculum circumcisionis . . . nobiscum puritas sacrificii, baptismi veritas, honor templi.” Ibid., 66 (PL 54:365—66); cf. 30.3 (PL 54:229). It was all too good for the Jews.

101.  Ibid., 4.1—2 (PL 54:149). Erich Caspar, Geschichte des Papsttums von den Anfängen bis zur Höhe der Weltherrschaft (Tübingen: Mohr, 1930) 1:403; Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke,” 403. 102.  The Hauptthema of this long writing is that the house of God is “non terrena et caduca.” Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 121.2 (PL 9:661—62); in fact, if one accepts the temple passages literally, then “inanis est psalmus, et mendax Propheta!” Ibid., 124.2 (PL 9:680). 103.  Ambrose (dubia), De sacramentis (On the Sacraments) 1.4 (PL 16:420); 4.3 (PL 16:438; cf. PL 16:421). Chapter 4 is intensely invidious.

104.  Jerome, Letters 46 (PL 22:486).

105.  Chrysostom, In Epistolam ad Hebraeos (On the Epistle to the Hebrews) 12.32 (PG 63:221).

106.  Chrysostom, De sanctis martyribus (On the Holy Martyrs) 1 (PG 50:645—56; cf. PG 50:582). This is a favorite theme with Chrysostom.

107.  Chrysostom, De sacerdotio (On the Priesthood) 3.4 (PG 48:642). Carl Seltmann in his edition (Münster: Schöningh, 1887), 83—84, raises the knotty question of just how literal all this is supposed to be.

108.  Methodius, Convivium decem virginum (Banquet of the Ten Virgins) 7 (PG 18:109).

109.  “Ibi enim stamus mentis oculos figimus . . . humana mens . . . superiora illa atque coelestia utcunque in aenigmate conspicit.” Garner, On the Temple 8.8.7 (PL 193:397; cf. PL 193:936); Zeno, Tractate 2.63 (PL 11:518—19); Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 10.4, passim (PG 20:848—80).

110.  Friedrich A. Müller, Der Islam im Morgen und Abendland (Berlin: Grote, 1885—87), 1:285; Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 370.

111.  Eutychius, Annales (Annals) 287—92 (PG 111:1100).

112.  Gustav E. von Grunebaum, Muhammadan Festivals (New York: Schuman, 1951), 20.

113. “If Islam substituted the Kibla of Mecca for that of Jerusalem, on the other hand it renders the greatest honor to the site of the temple . . . and pure monotheism rebuilt its fortress on Mt. Moriah,” wrote Renan, quoted in Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 389.

114.  Adam Mez, Renaissance des Islams (Heidelberg: Winter, 1903), 302. Cf. English translation by Salahuddin Bukhish (London: Luzac, 1937).

115.  Mez, Renaissance des Islams, 302—3.

116.  Müller, Der Islam im Morgen und Abendland, 1:285.

117.  Just as the Christians turned the temple site into a sterquilinium (note 161 below), so the Muslims just as childishly called the Church of the Holy Sepulchre not al-qiyama, but al-qumama, that is, sterquilinium! Ernst Rosenmüller, ed., Idrisi’s Syria (Leipzig: Sumtibus Io Ambros Barthii, 1828), 10 n. 36. Though at the end of the tenth century Christians still execrated the temple site, Eutychius, Annals 287—92 (PG 111:1100), in the thirteenth century a friend of the sultan was rudely barred from the place, being told: “such things are not revealed to such as you. Do not insult our Law!” “Mithla hadhihi al-‘umuri la takhfa ‘ala ‘amthalika. La tabtul namusana!” etc. Al-Qazwini, Kosmographie, ed. Ferdinand Wüstenfeld (Göttingen: Dieterich, 1848), 2:109.

118.  Fulcher, Historia Hierosolymitana 1.26.9, with editorial discussion by Heinrich Hagenmeyer in his edition, Fulcheri Carnotensis historia Hiersolymitana (Heidelberg: Winter, 1913), 290—91.

119.  Müller, Der Islam im Morgen und Abendland, 2:135. 120.  Guibert, Gesta Dei per Francos (Acts of God through the Franks) 7.10 (PL 156:795); Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana 1.27.12—13. See note 133 below. For the Muslim reaction, see Müller, Der Islam im Morgen- und Abendland, 2:157.

121.  Athanasius, Questions to Duke Antiochus 44 (PG 28:625).

122.  Aetheria (Silvia), Peregrinatio ad loca sancta (Pilgrimage to Holy Places), 4th ed. (Heidelberg: Heraeus, 1939), 37:3; 48:1—2; 49:1.

123.  Ibid., 26.

124.  She compares the pilgrims to those who anciently came to Jerusalem to hear the law (ibid., 27:1, 6) and notes that fasting was forbidden on the Temple Mount and there only (ibid., 44:1) rather than at New Testament shrines. An even earlier pilgrim, Melito of Sardis, describes a strictly Old Testament pilgrimage to the East, Fragmentum (Fragment) (PG 5:1216).

125.  Photius, Against the Manichaeans 2.11 (PG 102:109); cf. Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 31.

126.  Edwyn C. Hoskyns, The Fourth Gospel, ed. Francis N. Davey (London: Faber and Faber, 1940), 1:202—3; Phythian-Adams, The People and the Presence, 74.

127.  H. B. Swete, quoted by Barrett, “Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 383. Revelation 21:21—27.

128.  Titus Tobler, Dr. Titus Toblers zwei Bücher Topographie von Jerusalem (Berlin: Reimer, 1853—54), 1:540ff. Origen, Commentary on John 10.22 (PG 14:377—78), comments on the “inconsistency and confusion” of the records. Cf. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.17 (PG 67:117—21); Sozomen, Historica ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) 1.1 (PG 67:929—33); Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 3.28 (PG 20:1088—89). Even the holy sites of Galilee had been transported to Jerusalem at an early time. Brandon, Fall of Jerusalem, 197—98.

129.  “The place where the dream of Jacob occurred is the place where Adam was created, namely, the place of the future Temple and the center of the earth.” Andreas Altmann, “The Gnostic Background of the Rabbinic Adam Legends,” Jewish Quarterly Review 35 (1945): 390—91. But “the Midrash also teaches . . . that Adam dwelt on Mt. Moriah and there ‘returned to the earth from which he was taken.'” Robert Eisler, Iesous basileus ou basileusas (Heidelberg: Winter, 1930), 1:523. Yet the place where Adam sleeps is Golgotha, the foot of the cross resting on his skull. Epiphanius, Adversus haereses (Against Heresies) 2.1.4—5 (PG 41:844), and many others. Christian and Muslim traditions place the holy of holies on the rock on which Abraham offered Isaac. Rupert, Liber Genesis (Commentary on Genesis) 6.28—29 (PL 167:427—28), making it the logical spot for the supreme culminating sacrifice of the cross. Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologica 1a2æ, 102.4.2: “Et tunc primo aedificatum fuit templum, in loco quem designaverat Abraham . . . ad immolandum,” etc. Both Fulcher and Saewulf report as eyewitnesses that the original ark of the covenant reposed directly in the center of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre; cited by Hagenmeyer in Fulcheri Carnotensis, 287—88. The Arabic writers are equally confusing: al-Qazwini, Kosmographie, 2:107—9; Ibn Ajjas, “Geography,” in Chrestomathia Arabica, ed. Fried-rich Arnold (Halle: Pfeffer, 1853), 1:64—66; Rosenmüller, Idrisi’s Syria, 9—12; Ibn Batuta, Muhadhdhib rihlat Ibn Batutah (Cairo: -al–Matba’ah al-Amiriyah, 1938), 1:33—34. 130.  See William Simpson, “The Middle of the World, in the Holy Sepulchre,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1888): 260—63; C. M. Watson, “The Traditional Sites on Sion,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1910): 209; C. M. Watson, trans., “Commemoratorium de casis dei vel monasteriis,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1913): pl. iii, opp. p. 28. The seal of King Baldwin of Jerusalem shows the two buildings as almost identical domes, side by side within a single walled enclosure.

131.  Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana 1.30.4.

132. “It was another, a new creation!” cries Raimundus de Angiles, Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Hierusalem (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1968), 330—31; cited by Hagenmeyer in Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana 1.30.4.

133.  J. Casper Barth (1720), quoted by Hagenmeyer in Fulcheri Carnotensis, 287. 134.  The materials are given and discussed in ibid., 285—87, 304—6.

135.  The treaty of 1229 allowed the Christians possession of the sepulchre, while the Muslims retained the Templum Domini, that is, the distinction was clearly preserved. Charles Diehl, Le Monde oriental de 395 à 1081 (Paris: Presses universitaire de France, 1944), 462.

136.  See the long article in the Enciclopedia Universal Ilustrada (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1928), 60:727—41. The rules of the order closely resemble those of some Jewish sectaries; cf. Henri Daniel-Rops, L’église de la cathédrale et de la croisade (Paris: Fayard, 1952), 145, 718, 720, 730; cf. English translation by John Warrington, Cathedral and Crusade (New York: Dutton, 1957). It is not surprising that the order was accused of heresy since it “urged the emigration of converts to Palestine to help prophecy to become fulfilled.” E. Kautzsch, cited by Emil Kraeling, The Old Testament since the Reformation (New York: Harper, 1955), 133.

137.  See, for instance, Duchesne, Origines du culte chrétien, 45; 5th ed., 47. Cf. John Ward, “The Fall of the Templars,” Journal of Religious History 13 (1984): 92—113, for an overview of contemporary research.

138.  S. Krauss, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” Jewish Quarterly Review 6 (1893—94): 238, who paraphrases Rufinus, Invectio (Attack) 1.5 and 2.589: “If a few Jews were to institute new rites, the Church would have to follow suit and immediately adopt them.”

139.  William Oesterly and Theodore Robinson, An Introduction to the Books of the Old Testament (New York: Macmillan, 1934), 194; cf. Louis Finkelstein, “The Origin of the Synagogue,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 3 (1930): 49—59.

140.  Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 137 (PL 9:787). Symeon, Expositio de divino templo (Exposition on the Holy Temple) 2 (PG 155:701), describes the mass in terms of the temple. See Malachi 1:11, the chief scriptural support for the mass. Gustav Oehler, Theology of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1883), 519—20, deals only with the temple. Daniel-Rops, L’église de la cathédrale, 542—43, points out that the round churches of Europe, revived at the time of the Crusades, were direct imitations of the temple at Jerusalem.

141.  Chrysostom, In Epistolam II ad Corinthios homilia (Homily on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians) 2.2 (PG 61:476); Epiphanius, Against Heresies 61.8 (PG 41:1049).

142. Rupert, “De Azymo” (“On Unleavened Bread”), in De divinis officiis (On Divine Duties) 2.22 (PL 170:48—51); cf. Epiphanius, Against Heresies 30.16 (PG 41:432). Cf. Leo, Discourse 92 (PL 54:453).

143.  Caspar Sagittarius, in Thesaurus antiquitatum Romanarum, ed. Johannes G. Graevius (Traject. ad Rhenum: Franciscus Halman, 1697) 6:465, 492—93, noting that the Christian veils “procul dubio imitati sunt morem in templo Salomonis.”

144. The place of the altar is a terribilis locus, Rupert, Commentary on Genesis 7.23—24 (PL 167:468—69); “inaccessible and terrible,” Symeon, Dialogus contra haereses (Dialogue against Heresies) 21 (PG 155:108), and Exposition on the Holy Temple 2 (PG 155:701), citing the case of Ambrose in the West, who barred even the emperor “both from the naos and the altar.” Cf. Gregorius Nazianzenus, Carminum liber I, theologica sectio II, poemata moralia (Moral Poems) 34.220—65 (PG 37:961); Pachymeros, De Andronico Palaelogo (On Andronicus Palaelogus) 1.5 (PG 144:25). In the East only the emperor could enter the tabernacle and only at Easter and his coronation. Codinus, De officiis Constantinopolitanis (On the Offices at Constantinople) 17 (PG 157:109—10); cf. Cantacusenus, Historia 1.41 (PG 153:280—81); Ivo, Sermo (Discourse) 4 (PL 162:532—33). At Constantinople and the Vatican there was even a mark on the pavement, as there had been in the temple court of Jerusalem, to show the point beyond which the vulgar might not pass. Constantine Porphyrogenitus, De caeremoniis aulae Byzantinae (On the Ritual of the Byzantine Court) 1.10 (PG 112:161); see especially the editor’s note on this.

145.  Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 7.7 (PG 9:461), with long note by le Nourry (PG 9:462—63); Hippolytus, Fragmenta in Jeremiam (On Jeremiah) (PG 10:632). Other and later sources given by Gronovius, in Graevius, Thesaurus antiquitatum Romanarum, 7:160.

146.  Ivo, Discourse 4 (PL 162:527—35).

147.  William K. L. Clarke, Liturgy and Worship (New York: Macmillan, 1932), 55—59.

148.  Rabanus Maurus, Expositio super Jeremiam (Exposition on Jeremiah) 4.7 (PL 111:858).

149.  Origen, Commentaria in Epistolam Pauli ad Romanos (Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans) 6.7 (PG 14:1073); Zeno, Tractate 2.66 (PL 11:520—21); Methodius, Banquet of the Ten Virgins 5.9.1 (PG 18:177); Paulinus of Nola, Poema (Poem) 34.337—48 (PL 61:683). With the fall of the temple “a stupor seems to have settled upon the Jews.” Brandon, Fall of Jerusalem, 165.

150.  Athanasius, Oratio de incarnatione verbi Dei (Oration on the Incarnation of the Word) 40 (PG 25:165).

151.  For Eusebius the mere statement that Jerusalem will be trodden under foot “shows that the temple shall never rise again”; he admits that the text adds “until the time of the Gentiles be fulfilled,” but when is that? Eusebius has the answer: It means never! Theophania (Theophany) 8 (PG 24:649—50). Athanasius is even more naive: We know (he argues) that Christ was a true Prophet because Jerusalem will never rise again. And how do we know that? Because since all has been fulfilled in the coming of the true Prophet, it cannot rise again! Athanasius, Oration on the Incarnation of the Word 39 (PG 25:164—65). Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1.5 (PL 24:29—30), insists that the words “Non est in eo sanitas” (Isaiah 1:6) refer to the time of Titus and absolutely prove that the temple can never be restored. Even more far-fetched is Eusebius’s demonstration from the thirty pieces of silver, in Demonstratio evangelica (Proof for the Gospel) 10 (PG 22:745). 152.  Origen, Contra Celsum (Against Celsus) 4.22 (PG 11:1056—57): “Tharrountes d’ eroumen, hoti oud’ apokatastathesontai.” The same argument is employed by Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1.1 (PL 24:20—22); and Hippolytus, Fragmenta in Danielem (On Daniel) 8—22 (PG 10:648—55).

153.  Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles 5 (PG 48:884, 889, 896); cf. Origen, Against Celsus 4.22 (PG 11:1057, with a long discussion in PG 11:1056—60), telling how Grotius developed the argument. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament, 3:291—92, makes this the official Protestant party line; cf. Farrar, Life of Christ, 2:255—56: “Neither Hadrian nor Julian, nor any other, were able to build upon its site,” etc.

154.  So Strahan, “Temple,” 557.

155. Marcel Simon, Verus Israel (Paris: De Boccard, 1964), 118—20, noting, p. 120, that in spite of all efforts to explain it away the danger remains real; cf. trans. H. McKeating (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), 91—93.

156.  Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 370. On the usefulness of pagan ruins as object lessons, see Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.16 (PG 67:116—17).

157.  Kraus, “Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” 227.

158.  Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 17.64 (PL 24:650), citing Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 6.12, to prove that the temple will never return. Theodoret, Explanation of Ezekiel 48 (PG 81:1252—53 and 1760); and Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles 5 (PG 48:884, 889, 896), express the same impatience. See Kraus, “Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” 90—91, 240—45, for others.

159.  Theophylactus, Commentary on the Gospel of Mark 13.1—4 (PG 123:633): “hoste peirontai deixai pseude ton Christon.”

160.  The story is fully treated by Michael Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” Jewish Quarterly Review, orig. ser., 5 (1893): 615—51.

161.  Rufinus, Historica ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) 1.37 (PL 21:505); Theodoret, Historica ecclesiastica (Ecclesiastical History) 3.15 (PG 82:1112).

162. So Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 3.15 (PG 82:1112); Philostorgius, Ecclesiasticae historiae (Ecclesiastical History) 7.14 (PG 65:552).

163. Rufinus, Ecclesiastical History 1.37 (PL 21:505); Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 3.20 (PG 67:428—32).

164. Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” 649. On the temple as a test case, Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles 5.3 (PG 48:888); 6.4 (PG 48:909).

165.  A blunt statement is that of David M. Stanley, “Kingdom to Church,” Theological Studies 16 (1955): 26: “The definitive coming of the Church . . . terminates the existence of the Temple.”

166.  Johannes Hempel, Die althebräische Literatur und ihr hellenistisch-jüdisches Nachleben (Potsdam: Athenaion, 1930), 92. A significant point overlooked by commentators.

167.  Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” 637—51. 168.  Ferdinand Prat, Jesus Christ (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1950), 2:230, hails the fireball story as conclusive proof that Jesus’ prophecy of “not one stone upon another . . . has been fulfilled to the letter.” The learned le Nourry argues that while the destruction of Jewish and pagan temples by fire, especially lightning, is a sure sign of divine wrath, a like fate suffered by Christian buildings is without significance, since Christians do not believe that God dwells in houses made with hands (note in PG 9:899—901).

169. Athanasius, Historia Arianorum ad monachos (Arian History) 71 (PG 25:777): “a persecution, a prelude and a preparation (prooimion de kai paraskeue) for the Antichrist.” Cf. ibid., 74 (PG 25:781); 79 (PG 25:789).

170.  Quotation from Irenaeus, Against Heresies 5.25 (PG 7:1189). Cyril of Jerusalem says it is a dreadful thing to think of but cannot for that reason be denied. Catechesis XV. de secundo Christi adventu (Catechetical Lectures on the Second Coming of Christ) 15 (PG 33:889—92).

171.  Basil, Commentarius in Isaiam prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) 3.110 (PG 30:296), who for the rest is very partial to a spiritual and intellectual temple (PG 30:289, 233).

172.  See notes 165—70 above. In one attempt the workers unearthed a stone bearing the inscription: In the beginning was the Word. “This was proof positive that it is vain ever to try to rebuild [Jerusalem]—evidence of a divine and irrevocable decree that the Temple has vanished forever!” Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History 7.14 (PG 65:552—53).

173.  Even Eusebius had his doubts and wondered if the Montanists might be right. Walter Völker, “Von welchen Tendenzen liess sich Eusebius bei Abfassung seiner ‘Kirchengeschichte’ leiten?” Vigiliae christianae 4 (1950): 170.

174.  Well expressed in Simon, Verus Israel, 118—24.

175.  See Helen Rosenau, “The Synagogue and the Diaspora,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1937): 200.

176.  Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 17.40 (PL 24:593—94).

177.  See Hugh W. Nibley, “The Unsolved Loyalty Problem: Our Western Heritage,” in The Ancient State, 218—22; and “Victoriosa Loquacitas,” in The Ancient State, 260—69.

178.  Heinrich Bornkamm, Grundriss zum Studium der Kirchengeschichte (Gütersloh: Bertelsmann, 1949), 113—14. 179.  While Fernand Cabrol, Les origines liturgiques (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1906), 48—56, strenuously denies that “toute cette splendeur dont le culte fut entouré” was of any but the purest Hebraic origin, such eminent Catholic authorities as Joseph Lechner and Ludwig Eisenhofer, Liturgik des römischen Ritus (Freiburg: Herder, 1953), 5—6, think otherwise.

180.  Thomas Livius, St. Peter Bishop of Rome (London: Burns and Oates, 1888), 521, while boasting that his church alone in Christendom possesses the Holy City, just like the Jews and the Muslims, never mentions the temple but always puts the synagogue in its place. For example, “The divinely appointed Aaronical high-priesthood . . . was in the Synagogue the fountainhead of all other priesthood” (p. 523), and “The once-favored Synagogue . . . had become a widow . . . without altar or sacrifice” (p. 527). Only once does he let slip the ugly little word, and that in a footnote (p. 527), but it is enough to show that he knows better and is deliberately avoiding the embarrassing word, as Christian scholars consistently do.

181.  So Gustaf Wingren, “Weg, Wanderung und verwandte Begriffe,” Studia Theologica 3 (1951): 111—12.

182.  “Le Temple est mort à jamais” is the cry of Marcel Simon, “Retour du Christ et reconstruction du temple dans la pensée chrétienne primitive,” in Aux sources de la tradition chrétienne: Mélanges offerts à M. Maurice Goguel (Neuchâtel: Delachaux and Niestlé, 1950), 252; cf. 253, 257. An interesting development is the admission that the original Christians were devoted to the temple, coupled with a rebuke for their foolishness; so Bultmann, Theologie des Neuen Testaments, 1:54, 57, cf. English translation, 53, 57; O’Brien, Life of Christ, 418. Cf. Charles Briggs, Messianic Prophecy (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1891), 289.

183.  Charles H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953), 300—301; Barrett, “Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 374—76; Burrows, Outline of Biblical Theology, 276. Even Farrar, Life of Christ, 1:192—93, was very cautious in condemning the temple. Phythian-Adams’s whole book, The People and the Presence, belongs in this hesitant and compromising group.

184.  J. F. Walvoord, “The Doctrine of the Millennium,” Biblioteca sacra 115 (1958): 106—8. “The entire sacrificial system of the Old Testament, while perhaps incongruous with western civilization aesthetics, was nevertheless commanded by God himself. . . . If a literal view of the temple and sacrifices be allowed, it provides a more intimate view of worship in the millennium than might otherwise be afforded.” Ibid., 107—8.

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Christian Envy of the Temple -- Mormonism and Early Christianity -- HUGH NIBLEY 1987

Christian Envy of the Temple

The Question

In his justly celebrated work on the fall of Jerusalem, S.G.F. Brandon comments on the “truly amazing” indifference of Christian writers to the importance of that event in the history of the church.1 But if the fall of the city meant for the Christians much what it meant for the Jews, i.e., “the sudden removal of the original source of authority,”2 the loss of the temple, which was the central episode of the catastrophe, could hardly have been of less significance; yet Brandon himself, though by comparison with other scholars a positive enthusiast for the temple, minimizes its importance for the Christians as consistently as he accuses others of playing down the importance of Jerusalem.3

Why is this? Long ago Adam of St. Victor observed with wonder that the Christian fathers had always gone out of their way to avoid any discussion of the tabernacle of God, in spite of its great popular interest and its importance in the divine economy.4 The reason for this strange attitude is, as Adam and his fellow Richard explain, that the very thing which makes the temple so attractive to many Christians, i.e. the exciting possibility of a literal and tangible bond between heaven and earth, is precisely the thing that most alarms and embarrasses the churchmen.5 Again, why so? Can it be that the destruction of the temple left a gaping void in the life of the church, a vacuum that the historians and theologians have studiously ignored, exactly as they have ignored such other appalling reverses to the church as the fall of Jerusalem and the cessation of the spiritual gifts?6 If the loss of the temple was really a crippling blow to the church, the fact can no longer be overlooked in the interpretation of church history.

But was it such a blow? The purpose of this paper is to consider three facts that strongly support an affirmative reply, namely: (1) that many Christian writers have expressed the conviction that the church possesses no adequate substitute for the temple, and have yearned for its return; (2) that determined attempts have been made from time to time to revive in the church practices peculiar to the temple; and (3) that the official Christian position, that church and temple cannot coexist and hence the latter has been abolished forever, has always been weakened by a persistent fear that the temple might be restored. These three propositions reflect in the Christian mind a sense respectively of loss, inadequacy, and misgiving. What they all share in common is envy of the temple. But before the significance of that becomes apparent, we must consider the three points in order.

Good Riddance or Tragic Loss?

Whatever the conflicting views of the earliest Christians may have been, 7 the perennial controversy regarding the temple in later times is well-illustrated by the Battle of the Books that began in the third century when Bishop Nepos attacked the “allegorists” with a book in defense of a literal and earthly millennium; in reply to this “unhealthy” teaching, Dionysius, the sophisticated Bishop of Alexandria, wrote what Jerome calls “an elegant book, deriding the old fable about the thousand years and the earthly Jerusalem with its gold and jewels, the restoration of the Temple,” etc.8 This in turn brought forth a two-volume counterblast in Jerome’s day by one Apollinarius, who “not only speaks for his own following but for the greater part of the people here as well, so that I can already see,” says Jerome, “what a storm of opposition is in store for me!”9 Jerome frankly admits that the opposition represents the old Christian tradition, his own liberal “spiritualizing” interpretation running counter to the beliefs of such eminent earlier authorities as Tertullian, Victorinus, Lactantius, and Irenaeus. This puts him in a dilemma: “If we accept [the Apocalypse of John] literally we are judaizers, if spiritually, as they were written, we seem to be contradicting the opinions of many of the ancients.”10 From personal experience, furthermore, Jerome can tell us how the old-fashioned Christians in Jerusalem insist on pointing out the very plot of ground on the Mount of Olives “where they say the sanctuary of the Lord, that is, the Temple, is to be built, and where it will stand forever,” that is, “when, as they say, the Lord comes with the heavenly Jerusalem at the end of the world.”11

Professor Cadbury, in a study in which he suggests that the earliest Christians may well have believed “that this site [the Mount of Olives] is to be the site of the parousia,” concludes that “if other Christians, ancient and modern, have found the primitive emphasis on such a literal future event embarrassing, Luke gives no real countenance to any of their ways of avoiding it,”12 which means that Jerome’s dilemma remains unresolved to this day. Through the years the doctors have continued to dismiss a literal temple as an old wives’ tale only to find all their arguments against it offset by arguments at least as potent in its favor.

First and foremost was the philosophical plea against a physical temple (supported by endless repetitions of Isaiah 66:1), that God is not to be contained in any crass material structure.13 The fact that the invisible incorporeal God needs no visible corporeal temple was grasped “by no man at any time, either Barbarian or Greek, except by our Savior alone,” writes Eusebius, forgetting in his tendentious zeal that this had been a stock theme of the schools for centuries, and that Christian Clement, speaking with the pagan voice of Alexandria, had given it his eloquent best with supporting quotations from Plato, Zeno, and Euripides.14 The main objection to this view, however, was not its heathen coloring but the idea, pointed out later by Aquinas, that the temple was not built for God but for man, who needs a tangible image of celestial things and “special times, tabernacles, vessels, and ministers” to inculcate understanding and reverence.15 “It cannot be too often emphasized,” writes Canon Phythian-Adams, “that the belief in the Presence is not to be described as ‘unspiritual’ simply because Its ‘tabernacle’ was material.” And the same scholar, who represents a surprising but unmistakable tendency of recent years to view the temple with a new sympathy and understanding, rebukes the hitherto common practice in Christian theology “of confusing a belief or doctrine with low and materialistic interpretations of it.”16 Certainly the Jews themselves were well aware of the limitations of physical buildings, and needed no Greek schoolmen, levied as spokesmen for a new religion, to tell them what Solomon had said long before: “The heaven of heavens cannot contain thee, how much less this house which I have built!”17

Apart from its gross and earthly substance, the temple has always been criticized by the churchmen as symbolic of a narrow, selfish, tribal world view, incompatible with the grandiose concept of a universal church.18 Again the answer was clear: What could proclaim the oneness of God’s rule and the universality of true religion more eloquently than the temple itself, “a house of prayer for all peoples,” “the spiritual metropolis of all lands?” 19 Some scholars protested that the authority of the temple had been virtually abolished by the Exile and the diaspora,20 but others pointed out with equal assurance that those misfortunes actually had the opposite effect: “Dispersion . . . increased the significance and the fascination of the Temple,” while the Exile “only strengthened the universal love for it.”21 Actually the limiting of the great central rites and ordinances to one spot was the very thing that recommended the temple so strongly to the Christian schoolmen, enthralled as they were by “the withering pressure of an omnipresent and monotonous idea”—the passion for oneness.22 Nothing on earth represented the oneness of God, his worship, and his people more perfectly than the temple had, and the church sorely missed just such a centralizing force.23 Thus Peter Cantor in the twelfth century deplores the multiplication of Christian shrines and invites the church to “note that in all Israel there was but one Temple, one Tabernacle, one Altar,” and to follow that example as “the only remedy” for “this morbum multiplicem.” 24

How was such simplification to be effected? Peter and his fellows know nothing of the later device by which in theory there is only one central mass in the church “in which all the Church was thought to participate.”25 Instead he suggests a compromise that had been recommended long before: “Following the example of the oneTemple, there should be in every city but one church, or, if it is a very large city, but a few, and those duly subordinated to the one principal church.”26 The objection to this, of course, is that the few fall as far short of the perfection of the Monad as do the many. Christian apologists had never tired of pointing out to the heathen the absurdity of their many gods and temples; how, then, were they to answer heathen and Christian criticism of the endless multiplication of Christian temples of which they first boasted27 and which they then tried to explain away?28

The standard explanation was that since the church was mystically the temple, and, being universal, was one, it followed that the temple was still one. 29 Because Christians do all things in common, it was argued, they may be considered as one single temple.30 But this was putting the cart before the horse, for, as Thomas Aquinas observes, the temple was introduced in the first place to achieve that unity—it is not the mystical result of it. But having praised the temple as the perfect expression of God’s unity and of the unitas et simplicitas of the worship he requires, Thomas lamely adds: “But since the cult of the New Law with its spiritual sacrifice is acceptable to God, a multiplication of altars and temples is accordingly acceptable.” 31 Here the word “spiritual” is expected to answer all questions and silence all objections, but Thomas’s own insistence on the unique significance of the temple as a locus electus, a tangible center of worship for the benefit of mortal man, makes demands that abstract terminology cannot satisfy.32 What is everywhere is nowhere, and for the very reason that God and his church are everywhere, there must be some special point of contact, Stephen VI is reported to have argued, around which the church might, like Israel, center its activities.33

Still, the idea of a spiritual temple was made to order for the schoolmen, who from the first took to it like ducks to water. The supplanting of a stone temple by “a spiritual edifice” is for Neander nothing less than “the mightiest achievement in the history of humanity.”34 It is a simple, eloquent formula: “The Messiah’s kingdom would supplant the outworn system of the past. He would raise up a new temple of the spirit.” 35 Lugeat carnalis Judaeus, sed spiritualis gaudeat Christianus!36 Again the argument falls flat, for the spiritual and carnal are not neatly divided between Jews and Christians, but “were to be found in both religions, and are still to be found in them.”37 If the Christian doctors knew how to spiritualize the temple, the rabbis had done a good job of de-eschatologizing long before them, and even the old-fashioned literalists knew the danger of “putting their trust in a building rather than in the God who created them.”38 In the end it was not a question of temple versus no temple but, as Irenaeus pointed out, one of proper values and emphasis.39

An inevitable corollary of the spiritual temple was the purely intellectual temple: Templum Dei naturaliter est anima rationalis, the human breast wherein “the rational and intellectual and impolluted and external unutterable nature of Divinity resides,” that higher, purer temple built of abstract virtues, etc.40 But aside from the fact that such ideas bore the trademark of the schools and were far over the heads of the general public,41 there was no reason why an “intellectual” temple should not coexist with a real one: while the Lord referred to the temple as his body, the church, Israel, and even the dry bones of Ezekiel, Origen observes, the real temple was still standing.42 Why not? The early fathers found “nothing absurd in saying that God’s dwelling is in heaven and at the same time in the earthly Zion,”43 and scholastic philosophers have no difficulty in viewing the temple under various mystic, moral, and material aspects without the least sense of contradiction.44

Along with their philosophical and moral condemnation of the temple, the doctors never tired of laboring the historical argument—the cold fact that the temple had actually been destroyed, that God had allowed its destruction and the prophets foretold it.45 But that had happened before, following a well-established eschatological pattern which saw in the destruction itself an earnest of restoration;46 and while in the divine plan the temple was to have its ups and downs (the Jews themselves anticipating the worst),47 there was no doubt in the minds of Jewish and Christian “fundamentalists” that the story would end on a note of eternal triumph for the temple, whose glory was eternal, preexistent, and indestructible.48 And if the Jews looked forward to a dark interim between the fall of the temple and the “Return and Restoration [which were an integral part of] the divine plan,”49 so no less did the first Christians: “For the scripture says,” writes one of them, “showing how the City and the Temple and the People of Israel were to be taken away, ‘It shall come to pass in the last days, that the Lord will give over the sheep of his pasture, and their sheepfold and their tower to destruction.'”50 The fathers of the fourth century were uncomfortably aware of this tradition, and Hilary states his own conviction that because of the wickedness of the times “there has for a long time been no Mountain of the Lord’s House upon the earth.”51 Later churchmen are haunted by a suspicion that the church is not really the equivalent of the temple at all, but rather of the tabernacle wandering in the wilderness, while the stable and enduring temple is still to come.52

A favorite symbol of the transition from crass Jewish materialism to the Christian Temple of the Spirit has always been the New Testament episode of the driving out of the money-changers.53 Yet how much this “obvious transfer” (as St. Leo calls it)54 left to be desired is apparent from many a bitter comment that the church itself was as much “a den of thieves” as ever the temple was, with the obvious difference, already voiced by Origen, that “today Jesus comes no more to drive out the money-changers and save the rest!”55 Furthermore, it has often been pointed out that the purging of the temple, far from being its death sentence, was rather a demonstration by the Lord “that he would not tolerate the slightest disrespect” for his Father’s House.56

In the same way the other classic scriptural arguments against the temple have either backfired or proven highly equivocal. The famous prophecy that not one stone should remain upon another, hailed by the churchmen as a guarantee of eternal dissolution,57 contains nothing to confirm or deny a future restoration, and may well have been spoken “with the sorrow of a patriot rather than the wrath of an iconoclast.”58 If the rending of the veil has been treated as a symbol of irreversible eradication,59 it has suggested with equal force a broadening and expanding of revelation.60 Jesus’ invitation to “destroy this temple” and his conditioned promise to rebuild the same are often taken—but only by a liberal revamping of the text—to mean the opposite, namely, that he will destroy the temple himself, and instead of rebuilding it bring something totally different in its place: “‘Finish then,’ he might have implied, ‘this work of dissolution: in three days will I . . . restore . . . not a material Temple, but a living Church.'” Dean Farrar’s interpretation is typical, resting as it does not on what Jesus said but on what “he might have implied.”61

. . . Tamen Usque Recurret

The temple was driven out with a fork by Jerome and his intellectual friends. On one thing all the spiritual children of Alexandria—Greek, Jewish, Christian, and Moslem—have always seen eye to eye, and that is the conviction that the old eschatology with its naive literalism and its millennial temple was unworthy of thinking men, “repugnant to every principle of faith as well as reason.”62 Of these intellectuals none have been more dedicated to the party line than the Christian schoolmen, whose opinions inevitably became the official doctrine of a church which drew its leaders almost exclusively from their ranks. Yet they were not the only force to be reckoned with, and by the time “St. Augustine’s City of God had come to replace millenarianism as the official doctrine of the church,”63 the more tangible and sensuous aspects of the temple, enhanced by time and legend, were exercising their powerful attraction on two highly susceptible and influential bodies—a spectacle-hungry public and a power-hungry government.

As to the first of these, it is apparent from Jerome’s experience that a large part of the Christian society did not lose sight of the temple after its destruction but spoke longingly of its return. Students today are more inclined than they have been in the past to concede to the temple a high place in the estimation of Jesus,64 of the prophets before him,65 and of the apostles and the church after him.66 “The ethical monotheism of the Wellhausen era,” that made short work of the temple and its ritualism, now yields to recognition of the importance of the ritual drama of the temple not only as “a basic component of Israel’s religion,” but of early Christianity as well.67 For both, the way to heaven led through the temple, and if that was but an intermediate step in the salvation of the race, it was nonetheless an indispensable one.68 It was all very well for the orators of the fourth century to declaim that in the church “the goal of all old Testament hopes had now come,” that “the religion of promise and pilgrimage” had given way to “one of achievement and fulfilment”—the simpler Christians knew better: “Christians have not yet attained their goal; they too must run their course (Hebrews 12:1).”69 The Christian still needed the temple, and always remained a pilgrim to Jerusalem in a very literal sense. Even the learned doctors of the second and third centuries “were unable to resist the fascination of the holy places,” and came with the rest to see the spot where the Lord had left the earth and where he would return to his temple.70 In vain did the great fathers of the following centuries protest against the silly custom, clearly pointing out that it was in direct conflict with the official doctrine of the spiritual temple: the pilgrimage went right on.71

The Emperor Constantine’s plan “to legislate the millennium in a generation” called for the uniting of the human race in the bonds of a single religion, under a single holy ruler, administered from a single holy center.72 It was the old “hierocentric” concept of the sacral state, represented among others by the Roma aeterna of which Christian Rome claimed to be the revival,73 but also typified from time immemorial in the temples of the East, each a scale-model of the cosmos, which was thought literally to revolve around it.74 Constantine’s architectural projects proclaim his familiarity with the idea of a templum mundi as a physical center of the universe,75 just as clearly as his panegyrists hail him in the role of Solomon the temple-builder. 76 “It is our most peaceful Solomon who built this Temple,” cries the orator at the dedication of one of Constantine’s vast “cosmic” rotundas, “and the latter glory of this House is greater than the former.” Just as Christ transferred “from sordid flesh to a glorified body,” so the church now has a much more glorified body than before.77 Let no one mistake this for the incorporeal temple of the doctors, who protested briefly and ineffectively against all this materialism;78 this really fulfils the prophecy (Haggai 2:9), no longer in words only but in deeds.79 The same rhetorical license that had vaporized the temple of Jerusalem by its appeal to higher things was not employed to justify its very solid successors, and before a rapt audience the great Christian orator could convert a monster pile, window by window and stone by stone, “into a spiritual temple structure” by the bewitching power of allegory.80

Immediately after his return from the Council of Nicea, Bishop Macarius of Jerusalem, by authorization of the Emperor, demolished the temple of Jupiter that the Romans had “built on the very spot where formerly the Temple of God had stood,” and in the process discovered the crypts of the Cross and the Holy Sepulchre, “and,” Eusebius significantly adds, “the Holy of Holies crypt,” which was identical in form with the latter.81 Over the holy spot the emperor and/or his mother had built the wonderful structure which they called “the New Jerusalem, having erected it in the place of the ancient one that had been abandoned,” the Holy Sepulchre serving as the pivot and center of the whole sacred complex.82 The temple complex was supplanted by Christian buildings. Theodoret pointedly compares the Churches of the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension with the ruined temple, and asks how the Jews in the face of that can have the effrontery even to remain in the city: “The Babylonians never came to worship at their Temple,” he argues, “while all the world flocks to our churches,” thus proving that the true House of God that draws all nations to Jerusalem is not their temple but our church.83 Chrysostom draws a like conclusion as he ecstatically views those vast panegyrises, those gorgeous year-assemblies at the shrine of the martyrs that represent the brilliant wedding of Christianity with the ever-popular pagan cults with their feasts and markets at holy tombs: “What does this all mean?” he asks, and the answer is clear: “It means that the Temple has been abolished.”84 We don’t need to go to Jerusalem anymore, John assures his people, just as his friend Gregory of Nyssa can announce that the church can “supplant the faded antique glory of our cities by our own Christian glory.”85

Of the many duplicates of Constantine’s New Jerusalem the most ambitious was Justinian’s “mighty glorious Temple, the Temple of my Lord, a heaven here below which I ween amazes even the reverencing Seraphim. If God should ever condescend to abide in a house made with hands,” the panegyrist continues, “this surely is the House!”86 As a crowning gesture, the emperor had fetched from Carthage the very vessels that the Roman soldiers had plundered from the temple of Jerusalem long before. But then in an even more significant gesture, the haughty Justinian for the only time in his life heeded the advice of the hated Jews and in superstitious dread ordered the vessels returned “in haste to Jerusalem, where he had them deposited in a church.”87 It was all very well to set up a new and holier Rome on the Bosphorus, but when it came to a showdown not even a Justinian dared to arrogate the authority of the House of God at Jerusalem.88

The man who dared most was Pope Leo. Behind him he had the tradition of the empire, now Christian, with Rome “holy among cities” as the center of the world.89 But how could the church have two centers? The churchmen displayed considerable ingenuity in their arguments to show how a large number of churches could carry on the tradition of a single temple,90 but by the time of Constantine it was recognized that if there was ever to be peace in the church what was needed was not a vague universality and equality, but a highly centralized authority.91 Leo, who did more than any other man to transform the old universal devotio Romana into a new devotio Christiana, 92 clearly saw in the temple at Jerusalem his most serious opponent.93 His sermons bristle with barbed and invidious remarks that betray his touchiness on the subject. In Leo’s Rome, as Seidlmayer puts it, “die christliche Kirche steht auf dem Fundament des heidnischen Tempels.”94 Leo explains this away by appealing to the well-established Roman doctrine of renovatio with a new twist: Rome has died pagan and been resurrected Christian.95 The tomb of Peter now performs the function that once belonged to the templum of Hadrian, the great round tomb by the Tiber that was designed to draw all the world to it, while Hadrian’s image now stands in the temple of Jerusalem—the roles of the two cities have been neatly reversed.96

Leo freely admits the debt of Christian Rome to pagan Rome,97 and sees in the great Easter and Christmas congregations of his people both the old Roman national assembly and the gathering of Israel at the temple: “Here you see the heavenly Jerusalem, built of all nations,” he cries, addressing such assemblies, “purged of all impurity on this day, it has become as the Temple of God!”98 “Now a new and indestructible Temple has been erected,” with Leo himself presiding in it, ordained in honor of Christ, the prophet “after the order of Melchizedek, . . . not after the order of Aaron whose priesthood . . . ceased with the Law of the Old Testament.”99 Rome has not abolished the rites of the temple, however, but simply taken them over, every particle of the ancient ordinances and imagery having been absorbed in the Christian sacraments: “Ours today is the circumcision, the anointing of priests, etc. . . . Ours is the honor of the Temple!”100 Thanks to the ministrations of Peter and Paul, the people of Rome are now “a holy generation, a chosen people, a priestly and royal city.” In a word, Rome was now Jerusalem. 101

But Leo protests too much. His Easter sermons, like Hilary’s Tract on the Psalms, Ambrose’s De Sacramentis, Jerome’s letters from Bethlehem, and Chrysostom’s great work on the Priesthood, breathe less of pious conviction than of envy. The first of these displays a positive phobia of a literal temple, against which it wages truceless war.102 “We admire the mysteries of the Jews, given to our fathers, first for their antiquity, and then for their sanctity,” says Ambrose, reassuring his followers, “But I can promise you that the Christian sacraments are both holier and older.” For the former rites go back only to Moses, while Melchizedek is the author of the latter. Quis est Melchisedek? Who but the Justice, Peace, and Wisdom of God—is there anything more timeless or holy than a pure abstraction?103 Jerome, explaining to a friend that the temple was always exclusively reserved to the Christians, concedes that the Holy of Holies was a wondrous thing, and promptly adds: “But doesn’t the Sepulchre of the Lord appear more worshipful to you? As often as we enter it we see the Lord lying there . . . and the Angel sitting at his feet.”104 Chrysostom, constantly approached by disillusioned Christians wanting to know what has happened to the ancient glories of Israel, is able to reply with stirring rhetoric: In ancient times only Moses could approach God, but now we all see Him face to face. Moses feared God—but no one fears Him today. Israel heard the thunder and trembled—we hear God’s actual voice and are not afraid.105 We have angels all around us in the church today—you can see them if only you will open your mental eyes.106 The priest ministering at our altar is a more awesome object than the high priest in the temple, since “he casts aside all carnal thought and like a disembodied spirit views celestial things by pure mind alone.”107 The Jewish temple was a mere shadow, the churchmen repeat: we have the real thing. “They had the Tabernacle, we see Truth face to face!”108 Do we? Yes, indeed, “but in a higher and hidden sense.”109

Leo’s imagery manifests an awareness that in snubbing the temple the church would be missing a good thing. Actually the fathers of the preceding generation had fumbled the ball badly when they threw out the temple. But before the church could recover, a new and formidable player, Islam, had snatched it up and run the whole length of the field.

When Omar conquered and entered Jerusalem in 638 he asked first of all to be shown “the glorious Temple that Solomon had built,” only to discover that the Christians had converted the place into a garbage dump.110 The treasure that the churchmen had so foolishly thrown away the Moslems were quick to exploit, promptly rebuilding the temple and restoring it to its prestige as a center of world pilgrimage.111 They had already harnessed its unique powers by “transferring to Mecca cosmological ideas in vogue among Jews and Christians concerning the sanctuary of Jerusalem,”112 and though the legends of the Kaaba, of its founding and refounding by Adam and Abraham as an earthly replica of the eternal preexistent heavenly prototype, etc., were borrowed freely from Jerusalem, there is no long history of bitter rivalry between the two.113 For Islam, Jerusalem remained par excellence the City of the Holy House, and as late as the eleventh century anyone who could not make the Hajj to Mecca was instructed to go to the great feast at Jerusalem instead.114 The Moslem intellectuals, exactly as the Jewish and Christian doctors before them, protested against the glorification of a mere building, and campaigned vigorously against the pilgrimages,115 but the temple had a powerful advocate in Christian jealousy. Like children fighting for a toy, each faction came to prize the temple more highly when it saw how much the other wanted it.

This jealous rivalry became apparent on the very day Omar entered Jerusalem and visited the temple ruins “in all humility and simplicity.” The Christians, who saw in his unassuming manner “only a Satanic hypocrisy,” were piously horrified at the sight, and the Patriarch Sophronius cried out: “This, surely, is the Abomination of Desolation in the Temple, of which David [sic] prophesied.”116 For the Christians it was their temple now, though they had turned it into a dungheap.117 Such horror the Jews of old had expressed at the sight of profane feet in the temple, and presently the Moslems took up the refrain, banishing Christians and Jews on pain of death from the sacred precincts “where the Saracens believe, according to their law, that their prayers are more readily answered than anywhere else.” 118 The only genuine religious clashes between Christians and Moslems, Muller informs us of the Crusades, were the two fights for the temple, when the Christians took it in 1099 and the Moslems got it back in 1187—”und damit war die Geschichte des Glaubenskrieges als solches ziemlich aus.”119 Solomon’s Temple was in each case, as it had been in Jewish times, the last redoubt; there alone neither side gave or asked for quarter; it was the ultimate all-out objective, and each conqueror in turn entered the holy place with songs of apocalyptic joy.120

Actually the possession of the temple complex was more than a mere matter of prestige. In the endless rivalries of the Christian sects there was just one claim to supreme authority that could neither be duplicated nor matched: “Those who cannot be reached by scriptural and doctrinal arguments,” says a writing attributed to Athanasius, are bound to credit the claims of that church which holds the holy places, including “Zion, where the salvation of the world was worked out. . . . And if the opposition say that we hold those places by the brute force of imperial arms, let them know that . . . Christ has never allowed His Places to fall into the hands of heretics.” It was a strong argument until Islam took over.121

From the fourth century on, Christians were taught to view the Holy Sepulchre rather than the temple as the religious center of the universe. But in supplanting the temple its Christian counterpart could never escape the claims and traditions of its predecessors—in Jerusalem the pilgrim was never out of the shadow of the temple, as is strikingly illustrated in the lady Aetheria’s (Silvia’s) full description of the Easter celebration at Jerusalem at the end of the fourth century.

According to Aetheria, the great culmination of the pilgrimage was the dies enceniarum commemorating the dedication of the great Churches of the Cross and the Holy Sepulchre and of the Temple of Solomon. The supreme consummation and fulfilment of all the pilgrim’s toil and yearning, as the lady describes it, was that moment when he was permitted to come forward and kiss the true Cross on Golgotha, “at the same time kissing the ring of Solomon and the horn with which the kings of Israel were anointed.”122 Again, the great annual sermon attended by all the clergy and the pilgrims, the only universal compulsory assembly, had to be delivered “always in that place . . . to which on the 40th day Joseph and Mary brought the Lord in the Temple.”123 Silvia’s pilgrim is never allowed to forget that he is a pilgrim to the temple.124 Indeed, whatever was holy about the Holy City was made such by contact with the temple, which, as Photius observes, “has the power to sanctify other things . . . a sort of divine grace to make holy.”125 Thus “the temple consecrated the city,” and progressively sanctified the holy mountain, the Holy City, the Holy Land, and ultimately the whole earth;126 “the Eternal Presence renders the new Jerusalem one vast naos,” where John saw no temple, not because there was none, but because it was all temple.127

In the reports of both Eastern and Western travellers the various holy places of the temple complex are constantly confused and identified with each other. 128Especially common is the locating of the Holy Sepulchre, the Holy of Holies, and the Cross of Golgotha (directly over the skull of Adam) at one and the same spot.129 In old maps and drawings the temple and the Holy Sepulchre are depicted alike, as a circular structure marking the exact center of the earth, with its four shrines marking the points of the compass. The two are virtually identical.130

Upon taking Jerusalem in 1099 the Crusaders moved straight to the object of their desire, the Holy Sepulchre, and then proceeded directly to Solomon’s Temple: ad dominicum sepulcrum, dehinc etiam ad Templum.131 As they marched they sang apocalyptic hymns of joy hailing the millennial day and the New Jerusalem.132 The Crusades are a reminder that Christianity was never able to settle for a spiritual temple or forget the old one: “It is foolish and unmeet,” writes an indignant churchman, “for Fulcher to distort utterances applying to the spiritual reign and to spiritual things in such a way as to make them apply to buildings or earthly localities, which mean nothing at all to God.” But Fulcher knew what he was doing: “at the time,” our critic confesses, “everybody was sunk in the error of that kind of gross darkness, clergy and laity, learned and military alike.” 133 To explain away the disturbing veneration of the Crusaders for the temple, scholars have argued that they were really confusing it with the Holy Sepulchre; 134 but they could hardly have confused the most sacred object on earth with anything but another very sacred object, and it is absurd to suppose that when they spoke of the Temple of Solomon they had no idea of what they were talking about.135 Typical of modern prejudice is the naive insistence that the Knights Templars took their singular title from their street address, their headquarters being by the merest coincidence near the site of Solomon’s Temple. But if the title Pauperes commilitione Christi templique Salomoniaci means anything, it means that these gentlemen fought for Christ and the Temple of Solomon, and were perfectly aware that the institution of the pilgrimage, which it was their special office to render secure, went back to the days of the temple.136

Though freely admitting the liturgical indebtedness of the church to the synagogue, students of ritual and liturgy have displayed singular reluctance to concede anything at all to the temple.137 Yet if the church of the fourth and fifth centuries, while embracing popular heathen cult practices everywhere, also aped the synagogue with a zeal that was almost comical,138 we must not forget that “the worship of the early Synagogue was based on the Temple liturgy.”139 Nay, the fathers, early and late, derive Christian worship directly from the temple, though like Hilary they may make a hair-splitting distinction between Jewish worship in templo and Christian worship ad templum. 140 They boast that the church possesses all the physical properties of the temple—the oil, the myrrh, the altar, and incense, hymns, priestly robes, etc., everything, in fact, but the temple itself, for “in the place of the tangible Temple we behold the spiritual.”141 Strange, that the solid walls should vanish and all the rest remain! Even the unleavened bread was retained in the West as an acknowledged heritage of the temple, in spite of the much more appropriate spiritual symbolism of the leavened bread preferred by the Eastern churches, “for we do not reject all the practices of the Old Law,” says Rupert in explaining this, “We still offer incense . . . daily, the holy oil of anointing is among us, we have bells in the place of ancient trumpets, and many suchlike things.”142 So we find “veils of the Temple” in Christian churches,143 inner shrines called tabernacles, awesome Holies of Holies entered only by prince and patriarch for the Year-rite,144 buildings and altars oriented like synagogues—which imitated the temple in that respect,145 dedication rites faithfully reproducing those of Solomon’s Temple,146 and a body of hymns “so obviously sung in the Temple that there is no need for any words to prove this.”147 In ritual texts priests are regularly referred to as Levites, and the bishop, though his office and title derive from the synagogue and not the temple, is equated with Aaron the high priest. Rabanus Maurus leaves us in no doubt of what his people were thinking when they hailed their fine church with templum Domini, templum Domini, templum Domini est!148

The Dread and Envy of Them All

Though it did not need to be pointed out to them, the Jews were ever reminded by Christian theologians that without their temple they were helpless.149 On the other hand, the churchmen recognized with a shudder that if they ever got their temple back again the same Jews would be very dangerous indeed. “If the Jews had [their ancient institutions],” Athanasius observes, “then they could deny that Christ had come . . . ; but now all prophecy is sealed, and their gift of prophecy, their holy city, and their Temple are taken away—forever.”150

That ringing “forever” is the key to the whole problem. The joy of the clergy, some of whom take genuine pleasure in reporting every fresh disaster and indignity to the temple, would be cold comfort indeed were this Banquo ever to rise and push them from their stools. The most disturbing aspect of the temple was the apocalyptic assurance of its restoration, and every device of rhetoric and logic (in the absence of a single verse of scripture to support the thesis and a great many to refute it) was employed to convince the world that the prophetic “forever” applied not to the restoration of the temple, but to its destruction.151 The strongest argument was the historical one, the case stated by Hippolytus, that since the Temple has never been restored it should be plain to all “by now” that it never will be. The greatest comfort Origen can muster for the future is the fact that in his day the temple cult had been interrupted for a longer period than ever before. True, the suspended rites have always been resumed in the past, but in this case enough time has passed to warrant one in being so bold as to express an opinion that they will never be restored.152Later theologians built the feeble argument into their chief bulwark against the temple, Chrysostom reinforcing it with the observation that while Josephus describes the destruction of the temple, he has nothing to say of its restoration, which proves “that he did not dare predict that it would be restored again,” which in turn proves that it never can be!153 Actually “the remorseless logic of history,” far from “confuting” early Christian hopes for the temple,154 has seriously confuted the opposition, whose program has always called for a complete transfer of the ancient heritage to the new church, a transfer which “the continued existence of the Jewish nation and cult” has rendered desperately overdue.155

How touchy an issue the temple has always been is shown clearly enough by the extreme reluctance of the churchmen to talk about it. Anything that even reminds them of it seems to rub them on a raw place. The mere sight of its ruins, instead of providing the eyes of the monks of Palestine with a gratifying spectacle and an edifying object lesson as the pagan ruins did, drove them wild with fury—”a detestable thing that causes appallment to the worshippers of Christ.”156 The Jews had to pay a heavy tariff for the luxury of mourning at those ruins, for their mourning was not only a reminder of what the temple had been, but also of what it would be.157 No wonder the exasperated fathers ask the Jews why they insist on hanging around Jerusalem after their temple has been destroyed, and bid them take the hint and be gone: “Everything you treasured in Jerusalem now lies in ruins, and your world-renowned temple is now the city dump of a town called Aelia.”158 On the other hand, Theophylactus reports that people even in his day tried to prove from the presence of ruins on the holy mount “that Christ was a liar.” 159

This last point, and the fundamental insecurity which underlay it, is illustrated by one of the most dramatic Christian legends, in which the mere report of the Emperor Julian’s intention to assist in rebuilding the temple was magnified into the greatest crime, and its failure into the greatest miracle, of post-Apostolic history.160 The story begins with the Jews announcing to the monarch that they are paralyzed without their temple: “We cannot worship without it.” 161 The wily Emperor sees that the Christians will be equally paralyzed by its restoration, and plans in the rebuilding of the temple to deliver the coup de grâce to Christianity by demonstrating once for all that Jesus was a false prophet.162 For the Christians the whole issue of the truth and survival of their religion hinges on the rebuilding of the temple. To make this clear to all, the Bishop of Jerusalem, we are told, had gone about preaching that in Daniel and the Gospels the Lord had predicted that the Jews would never, to the end of time be able to place one stone of the temple upon another. 163 Since the bishop (whose extensive writings make no mention of our story) preached no such thing,164since no such prophecy exists in the scriptures, and since the restoration of the temple would not confute a single recorded utterance of Jesus, it is plain that the churchmen themselves have chosen to make an issue of the temple, and thereby rendered coexistence of church and temple impossible.165 In this case only one solution was possible: a succession of stunning and theatrical miracles in the best fourth-century tradition (but also of a type of miracle story that had been growing up around the temple for many centuries)166 frustrated the evil project at every step. Day after day the stubborn Jews persisted, and day after day great balls of fire chased them all over the temple rock, consuming them like flies, while the earth shook and the heavens gave forth with a succession of super-spectacular displays. Among all the conflicting accounts, Adler had no difficulty finding the most probable source of the legends, which grow like a snowball;167 yet to this day Christian scholars cite the fantastic and contradictory stories not only as actual fact, but also as positive proof that Jerusalem and the temple can never be restored.168

When Athanasius assures us that no crime can be more monstrous than that of converting a church into a synagogue, he makes it clear that that is not because one poor synagogue more or less makes so much difference, but because such a gesture “prepares the way” for the sitting of the antichrist in the temple.169 The antichrist-in-the-temple prophecy has always cast a dark shadow over the pages of the fathers, and though most of them prefer an allegorical interpretation, a large and influential number of them insist on taking the thing literally, however terrible the prospect. It is definitive templum Dei, whether we like it or not, they assure us, and before the adversary can usurp his place in the temple, that temple must be rebuilt.170

Church writers have done their best to brighten the gloomy picture. They have reassured us that the only really literal aspect of the temple was its destruction;171 they have told comforting stories of frustrated attempts to rebuild it;172 they report with a great sigh of relief the collapse of the Montanist project for rebuilding the New Jerusalem;173 and, as we have seen, they taxed the resources of exegesis to discover a ray of hope in the scriptures. Yet all this but betrays rather than allays their misgivings: towards the Jews and their temple, their words and deeds remain those of men haunted by a sense of insecurity.174 Why otherwise would they forbid the Jews even to imitate the architecture of the temple in their synagogues?175 The intellectuals who liquidated the temple once and for all in the economy of the church fondly supposed that their own eloquence could more than take its place: while the emperors have taken upon themselves the expense and responsibility of erecting the physical edifice, Jerome assures us, it is eloquentia that warrants the tabernacling of the Spirit therein.176 If the temple of the Spirit was built without hands, human tongues worked overtime on the project, and the finished structure remains a typically unconvincing production of the Age of Rhetoric.177

The Reformation as a reaction against ritualism could hardly be expected to capitalize on the Christian need for the temple or its equivalent, and indeed leading Protestant scholars confess that vagueness and uncertainty in ritual matters was perhaps the most serious defect in the work of the Reformers. 178 Yet the Protestant experience seems simply to be repeating the cycle, for we have seen how the doctors of ancient times condemned the temple and its rites with overhasty zeal, and how their successors, seeking like Esau to mend the damage and “inherit the blessing” when it was all too late, introduced into the vacuum a botched and hybrid ritual. It was the pagan element in that ritual which the Reformers found so objectionable and exposed so skillfully.179 Neither group has grounds for complacency, and it would be hard to determine which of the two condemns the temple with greater vigor.

By loosely and inaccurately equating the temple with the synagogue, it has been possible for Christian scholars in the past to claim victory for the church without the painful necessity of mentioning the temple too much or even at all, the assumption being that the church’s triumph over the synagogue answereth all things.180 But with the current emphasis on eschatology and ritual, the temple can no longer be kept in the background. Eschatologie hat über uns keine Macht mehr! has been the common creed of the clergy,181 but eschatology now returns like an unwelcome ghost, and with it comes the temple. So while some Christian scholars still denounce the temple with surprising vehemence,182 others are markedly hesitant,183 and still others have reached the point of unabashedly accepting “the literalness of the future temple and its sacrificial system.”184 All three of these attitudes bespeak a sense of insecurity and inadequacy.

The moral of our tale is that the Christian world has been perennially haunted by the ghost of the temple—a ghost in which it does not believe. If the least be said for it, the temple has never lost its power to stir men’s imaginations and excite their emotions, and the emotion which it has most often inspired in Christian breasts has certainly been that of envy, a passion the more dangerous for being suppressed. The temple has cast a shadow over the claims and the confidence of the Christian church from early times, a shadow which is by no means diminishing in our own day. If we seem to have labored the obvious in pointing this out, it is only because the obvious has been so long and so resolutely denied or ignored in high places.

*   “Christian Envy of the Temple” first appeared in the Jewish Quarterly Review 50 (1959—60): 97—123, 229—240. The article was reprinted with the same title in When the Lights Went Out (Salt Lake City: Deseret, 1970), 55—88.

1.   Samuel G. F. Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church (London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1951), 10—11.

2.   Ibid., 250.

3.   While opposing the usual tendency to minimize the temple in the economy of the early church, e.g., ibid., 29, 39, 164—65, 263, Brandon bestows upon the city of Jerusalem the laurels that rightfully belong to the temple, e.g., 19—21.

4.   “Mirum est quod quase hunc locum ita praetergressi sint,” Adam Praemonstratensis (Adam of St. Victor), De Tripartito Tabernaculo (On the Tripartite Tabernacle) II, in PL 198:625. Richard of St. Victor writes on the same subject by popular demand—”rogatus ab amicis,” in De Tabernaculo (On the Tabernacle) I, in PL 196:211—12.

5.   Adam of St. Victor, On the Tripartite Tabernacle II, in PL 198:625; Richard of St. Victor, On the Tabernacle I, in PL 196:211—12, and On the Tabernacle II, in PL196:223—42; cf. PL 196:306.

6.   Of the latter calamity Bishop John Kaye writes: “The silence of ecclesiastical history respecting the cessation . . . is to be ascribed . . . to the combined operation of prejudice and policy—of prejudice which made them reluctant to believe, of policy which made them anxious to conceal the truth,” John Kaye, Ecclesiastical History of the Second and Third Centuries, Illustrated from the Writings of Tertullian (London: Griffith Farran, 1894), 50.

7.   Discussed by Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church, 39, 127, 262—64. See note 66 below.

8.   Eusebius, HE VII, 24, 1—9, in PG 20:692—96, quoting Dionysius at length. Jerome, Commentarius in Isaiam Prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) 18, in PL 24:627.

9.   “Quem non solum suae sectae homines, sed et nostrorum in hac parte dumtaxat plurima sequitur multitudo, ut praesaga mente jam cernam quantorum in me rabies concitanda sit,” Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 18, in PL 24:627.

10.   Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 18, in PL 24:627. The case for the literalists is stated by Cyril of Jerusalem, who insists that Jesus meant the real temple when he spoke of his Father’s House: tōi Christōi peisthēsometha tōi legonti peri tou hierou [i.e., Luke 2:49, John 2:16] . . . di’ hōn saphestata ton en Hierosolymois proteron naon oikon einai tou heautou Patros hōmologei. Catechesis VII. de Patre (Catechetical Lecture on the Father) 6, in PG 33:612.

11.   Jerome, Commentary on Jeremiah 31, 38, in PL 24:920, “Judaei videlicet et nostri Judaizantes, conantur ostendere . . . ibi dicunt sanctuarium Domini, id est templum esse condendum, mansurumque in perpetuum,” etc.; cf. Jerome, Commentarium in Isaiam Prophetam XV, 54, in PL 24:516.

12.   H. J. Cadbury, “Acts and Eschatology,” in William D. Davies and D. Daube, eds., The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 309, 316.

13.   Therefore even Solomon’s Temple was “neque legitimum neque devotum,” according to Zeno, Tractatus (Tractate) I, 14, in PL 11:355, since God “reprobat . . . tam immensum, tam insigne, tam opulens templum,” etc., ibid., in PL 11:356—58. The same argument is used by Hilary, Tractatus super Psalmos (Treatise on the Psalms)126, in PL 9:694—99; Lactantius, Divinae Institutiones (Divine Institutes) VI, 25, in PL 6:728—32; Isidore, Epistolae (Letters) IV, 70, in PG 78:1132—33; cf. I, 20, in PG78:196, and ibid., I, 196, in PG 78:356; Procopius, Commentarius in Isaiam (Commentary on Isaiah) 6, 5, in PG 87:1937.

14.   Eusebius, Praeparatio Evangelica (Preparation for the Gospel) 3, 13—17, in PG 21:220—28; Clement of Alexandria, Stromata V, 11, in PG 9:112—16; VII, 5, in PG 9:436—40; Theodoret, Graecarum Affectionum Curatio Sermo 3, in PG 83:885, quotes Zeno and Plato in this connection.

15.   Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, 1a2ae, Quaestio cii, Articulus iv; Dominican ed., 29:152—77.

16.   William J. Phythian-Adams, The People and the Presence (London/New York: Oxford University Press, 1942), 60.

17.   2 Chronicles 6:18.

18.   So Irenaeus, Contra Haereses (Against Heresies) IV, 34, 4, in PG 7:1085—86; Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 118, 4, in PL 9:643; Lactantius, Divine Institutes IV, 14, in PL 6:1021—22; John Chrysostom, De Sancta Pentecoste Homilia (Homily on the Holy Pentecost) 1, 1, in PG 50:453, etc. A favorite theme with the moderns who feel that the liquidation of the Temple was indispensable to “the absolution of God’s worship from all bonds of time and nationality,” Bernhard Weiss, The Life of Christ, tr. John W. Hope, 3 vols. (Edinburgh: Clark, 1883—84), 3:261.

19.   Jacob S. Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals (New York: Philosophical Library, 1953), 225; cf. 15—16, 34, 94.

20.   So Ernest Renan, Antichrist (Boston: Roberts, 1897), 187—88; Arthur S. Peake, ed., The People and the Book (Oxford: Clarendon, 1925), 281.

21.   Quotes are, respectively, from Andrew M. Fairbairn, Philosophy of the Christian Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1902), 487, and Albert T. Olmstead, Jesus in the Light of History (New York: Scribner, 1942), 69—70; cf. S. A. Cook, The Old Testament (New York: Macmillan, 1936), 130.

22.   Quote from J. B. Bury. From early times Christians debated the cosmic significance of the oneness of the temple: Clement of Alexandria, Stromata V, 9, in PG9:112: Palin ho Mōusēs . . . hena d’oun neōn hidrysamenos tou Theou monogenē te kosmon . . . kai ton hena, hōs ouk eti tōi Basileidēi dokei, katēngele Theon. . . .

23.   “The purpose [ratio] of the unity of the temple or tabernacle . . . was to fix in men’s minds the unity of the divine faith, God desiring that sacrifice be made to him in one place only.” Aquinas, Summa Theologica 1a2ae, Quaestio cii, Articulus iv; Dominican ed., 29:161 On the lack of a centralizing force, Louis Duchesne, Early History of the Christian Church, 3 vols. (London: Murray, 1931), 2:521—26. Cf. note 2 above.

24.   Peter Cantor, Verbum Abbreviatum (The Abridged Word) 29, in PL 205:104, 106—7. The historian Socrates, Ecclesiastical History (HE) V, 22, in PG 67:625—45, made the same observation in the 5th century.

25.   This is the “messe publique,” the oldest exemplar of which Louis M. O. Duchesne calls “un cérémonial fort postérieur à l’age antique,” Origines du culte chrétien2nd. ed (Paris: Thorin, 1898), 154 (=5th ed. [1920], 172).

26.   Cantor, The Abridged Word 29, in PL 205:104, 106—7; so also Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14, 3, in PL 9:301.

27.   Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14, 3, in PL 9:301; Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel 5, 1, in PG 21:312; Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 13, 47, in PL 24:471—72; Leo Magnus, Sermo (Discourse) 59, 8, in PL 54:341; Chrysostom, Contra Judaeos et Gentiles, quod Christus Sit Deus (Against the Jews and the Gentiles, that Christ is God) 12, in PG 48:829—30; cf. De Cruce et Latrone (On the Cross and the Thief) 2, 1, in PG 49:409; De Capto Eutropio et de Divitiarum Vanitate (On the Capture of Eutropius and the Vanity of Wealth) 15, in PG 52:410.

28.   See the discussion by A. le Nourry in PG 9:900—2. A writing attributed to Athanasius admits that the multiplication of shrines presents “a strange and paradoxical problem”—xenon kai paradoxon to eperōtema—to which the author gives an even stranger solution. See Quaestiones ad Antiochum Ducem (Questions to Duke Antiochus) 26, in PG 28:613.

29.   The temple represents the world—ho naos de hōs oikos Theou holon ton kosmon typoi, and since there is but “one world, above and below . . . analogous to the order of the Church,” the church itself is one temple which ho archiereus monos syn tois hierōmenois eiserchetai; Symeon Thessalonicensis, De Sacro Templo (On the Holy Temple) 131, in PG 155:337—40. Cf. Leo, Discourse 54, 8, in PL 54:341; Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 121, in PL 9:662—63; and Theodoret, Graecarum Affectionum Curatio 6, in PG 83:989.

30.   Fulgentius, Contra Fabianum (Against Fabian) 34, in PL 65:811—12; Photius, Epistolae (Letters) I, 8, 31, in PG 102:665; Wolbero, Commentaria in Canticum Canticorum (Commentary on the Song of Solomon) III, 5, 15, in PL 195:1203.

31.   Aquinas, Summa Theologica, 1a2ae Quaestio cii, Articulus iv; Dominican ed., 29:161: “Et ideo, ut firmaretur in animis hominum fides unitatis divinae, voluit Deus ut in uno loco tantum sibi sacrificium offerretur. . . . Sed cultus novae legis . . . Deo acceptus,” etc.

32.   Ibid., Articuli iv and v. Thomas himself at the beginning of Articulus iv refutes the common doctrine of a purely spiritual temple.

33.   Anastasius Bibliothecarius, Historia de Vitis Romanorum Pontificum (History of the Lives of the Roman Pontiffs) 112, Stephen VI, in PL 128:1399.

34.   August Neander, The Life of Jesus Christ, 4th ed. (New York: Harper, 1858), 180—81.

35.   Charles M. Laymon, Life and Teachings of Jesus (New York: Abingdon, 1955), 280.

36.   Leo, Discourse 3, in PL 54:145.

37.   Frederick C. Grant, An Introduction to New Testament Thought (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1950), 14.

38.   Barnabas, Epistola Catholica (Catholic Epistle) 16, in PG 2:771—76. cf. TB Yebamoth 6b: lō’ mĭmmĭqdŏš ‘ātêh mĭtyayrē’ ĕlâ’ mĭmmê šĕhĭzhīr ‘āl hammĭqdŏs“While the Temple was still standing the principle had been established that the efficacy of every species of expiation was morally conditioned,” Moore quoted in William D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1948), 257.

39.   “Neque enim domum incusabat [Jesus] . . . sed eos, qui non bene utebantur domo,” Irenaeus, Against Heresies IV, 2, 6, in PG 7:978. Even Stephen’s sermon (Acts 7), usually viewed as an attack on the Temple, is rather an appeal for a proper sense of values. See William Manson, The Epistle to the Hebrews (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1951), 28, 30, 34.

40.   Quotes from Origen, Commentaria in Evangelium Secundum Matthaeum (Commentary on Matthew) 14, 22—23, in PG 13:1452—53, and Commentaria in Evangelium Joannis (Commentary on John) 10, 16, in PG 14:349. The Temple is built of simplicity, intellect, veritas, pudicitia, continentia, etc., Zeno, Tractate I, 14, in PL 11:361—62. The theme is extremely popular with theologians.

41.   Jewish and Christian doctors alike “spun out abstract doctrines far beyond the ken of the common folk, and insisted that these are the truths of religion and morality. Nor are we closing the gap today,” Max Kadushin, The Rabbinic Mind (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1952), 87—88. “The fathers,” says Edward Gibbon, “deem themselves secure and invulnerable behind the ample veil of allegory, which they carefully spread over every tender part of the Mosaic dispensation,” Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 3 vols. (New York: The Modern Library, 1932), ch. 15, n. 31; 1:393.

42.   Origen, Commentary on John 10, 20, in PG 14:369—70. Amphotera mentoige, to te hieron kai to sōma tou Iēsou—it is quite possible for it to be two or more things at once.

43.   Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarius in Michaeam Prophetam (Commentary on Micah) IV, 1, 2, in PG 71:644. Cf. Symeon, On the Holy Temple 128, in PG 155:336; Photius, Contra Manichaeos (Against the Manichaeans) 2, in PG 102:108.

44.   Thus Rupert, Liber Regum (Commentary on Kings) 3, 6—29, in PL 167:1147—75; Hugh of St. Victor, Allegoriae in Vetus Testamentum (Allegories on the Old Testament) 3, 9, in PL 175:661—63; and De Claustro Animae (On the Fortress of the Soul) 3, 17, in PL 176:1118—20; Alan of Lille, Sententiae, no. 16, 22, in PL210:236—37, 240; Garnerus, Gregorianum, “De Templo” (On the Temple) XIII, 8, in PL 193:398—400; Adam of St. Victor, Sermones (Sermons) 40, in PL 198:363—71.

45.   See notes 152—57 below.

46.   Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 126, in PL 9:694—95. Cf. Olmstead, Jesus in the Light of History, 69.

47.   “From the beginning the destruction of the Temple and the eventual cessation of the sacrifices had been anticipated,” Grant, An Introduction to New Testament Thought, 14. As early as 587 B.C. “the old dogma that it was blasphemy even to speak of the destructibility of the temple was shattered,” Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 82.

48.   In the Odes of Solomon the Temple is “préexistant au monde et, de plus, il subsiste hors du monde,” Pierre Batiffol, “Les odes de Salomon,” Revue Biblique 20 n.s., 8 (1911): 40. “Est ergo altare in coelis, et templum,” Irenaeus, Against Heresies IV, 18, in PG 7:1024—29. Cf. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 162, n. 2.

49.   L. J. Liebereich, “Compilation of the Book of Isaiah,” Jewish Quarterly Review 46 (1956): 272. See the Testament of Levi 14—18, the Testament of Benjamin 9, and the Testament of Naphtali 4.

50.   Barnabas, Catholic Epistle 16, in PG 2:771—76. That paradōsei here means “remove,” “take out of circulation,” is clear from parallel passages in Matthew 24:9, and Didache 16:4; cf. Robert Henry Charles, The Book of Enoch (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1912), 198—204.

51.   Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 14, in PL 9:301—2: “Sed mons Domini nullus in terra est: omnis enim terra jam pridem per vitia hominum maledictis obnoxia est.”

52.   Athanasius, Quaestiones in Pauli Epistolas (Questions on the Epistles of Paul) 127, in PG 28:769; Peter Damian, Dialogus inter Judaeum et Christianum (Dialogue between a Jew and a Christian) 9, in PL 145:59; Rupert, Liber in Numeros (Commentary on Numbers) II, 21, in PL 167:901; Richard of St. Victor, On the Tabernacle 1, in PL 196:212; also, Adnotationes Mysticae in Psalmos (Mystic Comments on Psalms) 28, in PL 196:306; In Apocalypsin Joannis (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) VII, 2, in PL 196:860; Aquinas, Summa Theologica, 1a2ae Quaestio cii, Articulus iv, conclusion; Andrew of Caesarea, Commentarius in Apocalypsin (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) 21, 3—4, in PG 106:425; Wolbero, Commentary on the Song of Solomon 4, in PL 195:1275.

53.   For Tertullian the glory of the temple was extinguished by the mere declaration of the Lord that it was a den of thieves, De Pudicitia (On Modesty) 1, in PL 2:1033—34. It was not the money-changers as such, but really the Jews, that Christ was expelling forever, according to Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarius in Amos Prophetam (Commentary on Amos) 19, in PG 71:443—44; Leo, Sermones Attributi (Attributed Discourses) 14, in PL 54:507; Rupert, Commentarius in Zachariam Prophetam (Commentary on Zechariah) II, 5, in PL 168:735—36; and Commentary on Amos II, 3—4, in PL 168:301. For Ernst W. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament, 2nd ed., 4 vols. (Edinburgh: Clark, 1856—58), 4:248, the “den of thieves” verdict “rendered the continuance of the former [Temple] absolutely impossible.”

54.   “Evidens . . . translatio” Leo, Discourse 68, 3, in PL 54:374.

55.   Nun de . . . eisi hoi pōlountes kai agorazontes en tōi hierōi . . . kai oudamou lōsous epiphainetai hina ekbalōn sōsēi tous loipous, Origen, Commentary on Matthew XVI, 21, in PG 13:1444—45, 1417, 1448: All’ eithe eiselthōn eis to hieron tou Patros . . . kataballoi lēsous tas . . . trapezas, cf. Homiliae in Jeremiam (Homilies on Jeremiah) 9, in PG 13:348. Cf. Gregorius Magnus (Gregory the Great), Epistolae (Letters) XI, 46, in PL 77:1166; Theophylactus, Enarratio in Marcum (Commentary on the Gospel of Mark) 11, 15—18, in PG 123:616; Photius, Against the Manichaeans IV, 23, in PG 102:229; Alcuin, Commentaria in Sancti Joannis Evangelium (Commentary on John) II, 4, 14—15, in PL 100:773.

56.   Photius, Against the Manichaeans IV, 23, in PG 102:229; so Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lecture on the Father 7, in PG 33:612.

57.   Thus Hippolytus, Demonstratio adversus Judaeos (Against the Jews) 7, in PG 10:792; Juvencus, Evangelica Historia (Gospel History) IV, 75—80, in PL 19:286—87. This prophecy was “the final ‘Let us depart hence’ of retiring Deity,” according to Frederic W. Farrar, The Life of Christ, 2 vols. (New York: Cassell, 1903) 2:255, who notes that 35 years later Deity finally departed! “Those few words completed the prophecy of Israel’s desolation,” Isodore O’Brien, The Life of Christ (Paterson, N.J.: St. Anthony Guild Press, 1937), 418 (=4th ed, 472).

58.   Vincent Taylor, Jesus and His Sacrifice (London: Macmillan, 1937), 71.

59.   So Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 15, 52, in PL 24:513—24. Leo, Discourse 68, in PL 54:374; Theophanes, Homilia (Homily) 27, in PG 132:600. A. Feuillet, “Le sens du mot Parousie dans l’Evangile de Matthieu,” in Davies & Daube, The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology, 268.

60.   Cassiodorus, Expositio in Psalterium (Commentary on the Psalms) 21, in PL 70:158; Rupert, Commentarius in Apocalypsin Joannis (Commentary on the Apocalypse of John) IX, 15, in PL 169:1111; Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah XIV, 52, in PL 24:498; Aquinas, Summa Theologica, 1a2ae, Quaestio cii, Articulus iv; Clarence T. Craig, The Beginning of Christianity (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1943), 183. For a recent treatment, see Dennis Sylva, “The Temple Curtain and Jesus’ Death in the Gospel of Luke,” Journal of Biblical Literature 105 (1986): 239—50.

61.   Farrar, The Life of Christ 1:194—95. Some scholars find the passage too hot to handle and declare it to be “not in the original utterance of Jesus,” but “the travesty of the false witness,” B. W. Robinson, Jesus in Action, 77.

62.   Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. 15, n. 31, 1:393; cf. Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 31.

63.   Quote from Gordon Leff, “In Search of the Millenium,” Past and Present 13 (April 1958): 92.

64.   Many writers present Jesus as a would-be restorer of temple worship, with the temple as his headquarters. Thus Arthur C. Headlam, Jesus Christ in History and Faith, 137—39; R. Bultmann, Theologie des Neuen Testaments, 4th ed. (Tubingen: Mohr, 1961), 1:17; cf. English translation, Theology of the New Testament, tr. K. Grobel (New York: Scribner, 1951); Benjamin W. Bacon, Studies in Matthew (New York: Holt, 1930), 242—43.

65.   “Recent research has shown that prophets had a regular part in the temple cultus,” Millar Burrows, Outline of Biblical Theology, 255.

66.   For a comprehensive statement, see James Strahan, “Temple,” in James Hastings, ed., Dictionary of the Apostolic Church (New York: Scribner, 1916—22) 2:556—57; and Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church, 21, 29, 39, 127, 263, even vindicating Stephen’s position, 89, 127—29, 263.

67.   See N. A. Dahl, “Christ, Creation, and the Church,” in Davies and Daube, The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology, 430—31, 424. Quote is from K. Stendahl, “Implications of Form Criticism and Tradition-Criticism for Biblical Interpretation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 77 (1958): 36—37.

68.   For closely paralleled Jewish, Christian, and classical concepts see B. Kötting, Peregrinatio Religiosa (Münster: Regensberg, 1950), 57—69, 287—88. The familiar temple imagery in Christian liturgy was disseminated directly by pilgrims coming from Jerusalem, Anton Baumstark, Abendländische Palästinapilger (Köln: Bachen, 1906), 31, 80—83.

69.   So C. K. Barrett, “The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Davies & Daube, The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology, 382.

70.   F.-M. Abel, “Jérusalem,” in DACL 7:2311; cf. Sulpicius Severus, Historia Sacra (Sacred History) II, 48, in PL 20:156—57, and note 10 above.

71.   Gregorius Nyssenus, Epistolae (Letters) 2, 3, in PG 46:1012—13, 1016; Basil the Great, Moralia, Regula 67, in PG 31:808; cf. 805; John Chrysostom, Ad Populum Antiochenum (To the People of Antioch) 17, in PG 49:177—80, Homily on the Holy Pentecost 1, in PG 50:453—64.

72.   Quote is from C. N. Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1940), 211; for the concept, Eusebius, De Laudibus Constantini (In Praise of Constantine) 4—6, 10, in PG 20:1332—52, 1372—76.

73.   For a recent discussion, Michael S. Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” Saeculum 7 (1956): 395—412.

74.   See our article, Hugh W. Nibley, “The Hierocentric State,” Western Political Quarterly 4 (1951): 226—53. Professor W. F. Albright sees in Solomon’s Temple “a rich cosmic symbolism which was largely lost in later Israelite and Jewish tradition,” William F. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1942), 154—55; cf. 88—89, 167.

75.   Eusebius, In Praise of Constantine 4—6, 10, in PG 20:1332—52, 1372—76; and De Vita Constantini (On the Life of Constantine) III, 33—39, in PG 20:1093—1100; IV, 60, in PG 20:1209—12.

76.   Contemporaries hail him as “the new Bezeliel or Zerubabel, who builds . . . blessed temples of . . . Christ,” Antiochus Monachus, Prologus, in PG 89:1428.

77.   Eusebius, HE X, 4, 45—46, in PG 20:876—77.

78.   So Zeno, Tractate 1, 14, in PL 11:354—62; Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1, 2, 9, in PL 24:49; 17, in PL 24:593, and Epistolae (Letters) 52, 10, in PL 22:535; 130, 14, in PL 22:1119; 46—47, in PL 22:492.

79.   Eusebius, HE X, 4, 45—46, in PG 20:876—77: hōs mēketi logon, all’ ergon gegonenai tēn anō lechtheisan prophēteian [Haggai 2:9], gegonen gar kai nun hōs alēthōs estin.

80.   See the editor’s enthusiastic comment on the oratory of Paulinus, Appendix Operum Sancti Paulini (Appendix to the Works of Saint Paulinus), in PL 61:929.

81.   Abel, “Jérusalem,” 2312, for the timing. It is Zonaras, Annales (Annals) 11, 23, in PG 134:996, who locates the Roman temple, following Socrates, HE I, 17, in PG67:117—21. According to Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 3, 28, in PG 20:1088—89, as the digging proceeded, to semnon kai panagion tēs sōtēriou anastaseōs martyrion par’ elpida pasan anephaineto, kai to te hagion tōn hagiōn antron tēn homoian tes tou Sōtēros anabiōseōs apelambanen eikona. That this is not a mere parallelism is indicated by the kai . . . te and homoian.

82.   Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 3, 33, in PG 20:1093: kai dē tou pantos hōsper tina kephalēn, prōtōn hapantōn to hieron antron, etc., noting that this was the very New Jerusalem that had been foretold by the prophets—an eschatological structure. Cf. Socrates, HE I, 17, in PG 67:117—21.

83.   Theodoret, Explanatio in Ezechielem (Explanation of Ezekiel) 48, 35, in PG 81:1253.

84.   John Chrysostom, Sermo post Reditum ab Exsilio (Discourse Following the Return from Exile) 2, in PG 52:440; “Ubi aedificabo? Absolutum est templum.” He is rejoicing that the growth of the church has burst all old traditional bounds such as the limitations of the temple. Cf. Chrysostom, Interpretatio in Isaiam Prophetam (On Isaiah) 2, 3, in PG 56:30, 97; Homilia in Sanctum Ignatium Martyrem (Homily on St. Ignatius the Martyr) 5, in PG 50:595—96; Basil, Regulae Fusius Tractatae (Detailed Rules) 40, in PG 31:1020; Theodoret, Epistolae (Letters) 66, 67 and 68, in PG 83:1236—37; Zeno, Liber (Commentary) 2, Tractate 46, in PL 11:520—21. Significantly, the most brilliant of these gatherings is for the feast of the Maccabees, i.e., to commemorate the rededication of the temple, Chrysostom, Homilia in Sanctos Maccabeos (Homily on the Holy Maccabees) 1, in PG 50:617—24.

85.   Chrysostom, To the People of Antioch 17, in PG 49:177—78; and Against the Jews and the Gentiles that Christ is God 9, in PG 48:825—26; Gregorius Nyssenus, Letters 17, in PG 46:1064.

86.   Constantine Manassis, Compendium Chronicum 3267—83, in PG 127:342—43. It was a conscious imitation of Constantine’s “New Jerusalem,” Procopius, Buildings 1, discussed in the footnotes to Eusebius, The Life of Constantine, in PG 20:1098—99, n. 13—14.

87.   The story is told in Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 361.

88.   On Constantinople as the New House of God, Andras Alföldi, The Conversion of Constantine and Pagan Rome (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1948), 110.

89.   Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” 400—03. cf. Pliny, Letter to Maximus VIII, 24, 3.

90.   See notes 26—28 above. For some amusing arguments, Rupert, De Victoria Verbi Dei (On the Victory of the Word of God) 10, 10, in PL 169:1430; Peter Damian, Dialogue between a Jew and a Christian 10, in PL 145:60—61.

91.   Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine 4, 24, in PG 20:1172; 4, 42, in PG 20:1189—90.

92.   So Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” 402—3.

93.   Thus in Attributed Discourses 14, 4—5, in PL 54:507, Leo says that the cathedra occupied by Moses has been torn down mystice and become a pestilentiae Cathedram, the change occurring at the moment Jesus drove the money-changers from the temple.

94.   Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” 402.

95.   Ibid., 409. See Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture, ch. 5.

96.   Leo, Attributed Discourses 16; 17, 1—2, in PL 54:511—13; Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah I, 2, 9, in PL 24:49: “Ubi quondam erat templum et religio Dei, ibi Adriani statua et Jovis idolum collocatum,” which many Christians regard as literal fulfillment of Mark 13:14.

97.   “Partim ignorantiae vitio, partim paganitatis spiritu,” Leo, Discourse 27, 4, in PL 54:218—19; cf. 89, 4, in PL 54:446.

98.   Ibid., 40, 5, in PL 54:271; 48, 1, in PL 54:298; 49, 1, in PL 54:301; 60, 3, in PL 54:344; 21, 3 and 22, 1—2, in PL 54:192—95; 23, 5, in PL 54:203; 88, 4—5; and 89, 1—2, in PL 54:442—46.

99.   Ibid., 3, 1—3, in PL 54:145—56; 5, 3, in PL 54:154.

100.   “Nihil legalium institutionum, nihil propheticarum resedit figurarum, quod non totum in Christi sacramenta transierit. Nobiscum est signaculum circumcisionis . . . nobiscum puritas sacrificii, baptismi veritas, honor templi,” ibid., 66, in PL 54:365—66; cf. 30, 3, in PL 54:229. It was all too good for the Jews.

101.   Ibid., 4, 1—2, in PL 54:149. E. Caspar, Geschichte des Papsttums von den Anfangen bis zur Höhe der Weltherrschaft (Tübingen: Mohr, 1930) 1:403; Seidlmayer, “Rom und Romgedanke im Mittelalter,” 403.

102.   The Hauptthema of this long writing is that the House of God is “non terrena et caduca,” Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 121, 2, in PL 9:661—62; in fact, if one accepts the temple passages literally, then “inanis est psalmus, et mendax Propheta!,” Treatise on the Psalms 124, 2, in PL 9:680.

103.   Ambrose (dubia), De Sacramentis (On the Sacraments) 1, 4, in PL 16:420; 4, 3, in PL 16:438, cf. PL 16:421. Ch. 4 is intensely invidious.

104.   Jerome, Letters 46, in PL 22:486.

105.   Chrysostom, In Epistolam ad Hebraeos (On the Epistle to the Hebrews) 12, 32, in PG 63:221.

106.   Chrysostom, De Sanctis Martyribus (On the Holy Martyrs) 1, in PG 50:645—56; cf. 582. A favorite theme with Chrysostom.

107.   Chrysostom, De Sacerdotio (On the Priesthood) 3, 4, in PG 48:642. C. Seltmann in his edition (Münster, 1887), 83—84, raises the knotty question of just how literal all this is supposed to be.

108.   Methodius, Convivium Decem Virginum (Banquet of the Ten Virgins) 7, in PG 18:109.

109.   “Ibi enim stamus mentis oculos figimus . . . humana mens . . . superiora illa atque coelestia utcunque in aenigmate conspicit,” Garner, On the Temple VIII, 8, 7, in PL 193:397; cf. PL 193:936; Zeno, Tractate II, 63, in PL 11:518—19; Eusebius, HE X, 4, passim, in PG 20:848—80.

110.   Friedrich August Müller, Der Islam im Morgen- und Abendland, 2 vols. (Berlin: Grote, 1885—87), 1:285; Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 370.

111.   Eutychius, Annales (Annals) 287—92, in PG 111:1100.

112.   Gustav E. von Grunebaum, Muhammadan Festivals (New York: Schuman, 1951), 20.

113.   “If Islam substituted the Kibla of Mecca for that of Jerusalem, on the other hand it renders the greatest honor to the site of the temple . . . and pure monotheism rebuilt its fortress on Mt. Moriah,” wrote Renan, quoted in Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 389.

114.   Adam Mez, Renaissance des Islams (Heidelberg: Winter, 1903), 302. Cf. English translation by S. Bukhish (London: Luzac, 1937).

115.   Mez, Renaissance des Islams, 302—3.

116.   Müller, Der Islam im Morgen- und Abendland 1:285.

117.   Just as the Christians turned the temple site into a sterquilinium (note 161 below), so the Moslems just as childishly called the Holy Sepulchre church not al-qiyāmatu, but al-qumāmatu, i.e., sterquilinium! E. Rosenmüller, ed., Idrīsī’s Syria (Leipzig: Sumtibus Io Ambros Barthii, 1828), 10, n. 36. Though at the end of the 10th century Christians still execrated the temple site, Eutychius, Annals 287—92, in PG 111:1100, in the 13th a friend of the sultan was rudely barred from the place, being told: “such things are not revealed to such as you. Do not insult our Law!” mithla hādhahu-l-‘umūra la takhfaya ʿalā ‘amthālika. Lā tabṭ nāmūsanā! etc., Qazwīnī, Cosmography, ed. Ferdinand Wüstenfeld, 2 vols. (Göttingen: Dieterich, 1848), 2:109.

118.   Fulcher, Historia Hierosolymitana I, 26, 9, with editorial discussion by Heinrich Hagenmeyer in his ed. (Heidelberg: Winter, 1913), 290—91.

119.   Müller, Der Islam im Morgen- und Abendland 2:135.

120.   Guibert, Gesta Dei per Francos (Acts of God through the Franks) 7, 10, in PL 156:795; Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana I, 27, 12—13. See note 133 below. For the Moslem reaction, Müller, Der Islam im Morgen- und Abendland 2:157.

121.   Athanasius, Questions to Duke Antiochus 44, in PG 28:625.

122.   Aetheria (Silvia), Peregrinatio ad Loca Sancta (Pilgrimage to Holy Places), 4th ed. (Heidelberg: Heraeus, 1939), 48:1—2; 49:1; 37:3.

123.   Ibid., 26.

124.   She compares the pilgrims to those who anciently came to Jerusalem to hear the law, ibid., 27:1, 6, and notes that fasting was forbidden on the temple mount and there only, ibid., 44:1, rather than at New Testament shrines. An even earlier pilgrim, Melito of Sardis, describes a strictly Old Testament pilgrimage to the East, Fragmentum (Fragment), in PG 5:1216.

125.   Photius, Against the Manichaeans 2, 11, in PG 102:109; cf. aisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 31.

126.   Edwyn Hoskyn and F. Davey, The Fourth Gospel 1:202—3; Phythian-Adams, The People and the Presence, 74.

127.   H. B. Swete, quoted by Barrett, “The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 383. Revelation 21:21—27.

128.   Titus Tobler, Dr. Titus Toblers zwei Bücher Topographie von Jerusalem, 2 vols. (Berlin: Reimer, 1853—54), 1:540ff. Origen, Commentary on John 10, 22, in PG14:377—78, comments on the “inconsistency and confusion” of the records. Cf. Socrates, HE I, 17, in PG 67:117—21; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History (HE) II, 1, in PG 67:929—33; Eusebius, On the Life of Constantine III, 28, in PG 20:1088—89. Even the holy sites of Galilee had been transported to Jerusalem at an early time, Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church, 197—98.

129.   “The place where the dream of Jacob occurred is the place where Adam was created, namely, the place of the future Temple and the center of the earth,” A. Altmann, “The Gnostic Background of the Rabbinic Adam Legends,” Jewish Quarterly Review 35 (1945): 390—91. But “the Midrash also teaches . . . that Adam dwelt on Mt. Moriah and there ‘returned to the earth from which he was taken,'” Robert Eisler, Iesous Basileus ou Basileusas, 2 vols. (Heidelberg: Winter, 1930), 1:523. Yet the place where Adam sleeps is Golgotha, the foot of the cross resting on his skull, Epiphanius, Adversus Haereses (Against Heresies) II, 1, 4—5, in PG 41:844, and many others. Christian and Moslem traditions place the Holy of Holies on the rock on which Abraham offered Isaac, Rupert, Liber Genesis (Commentary on Genesis)6, 28—29, in PL 167:427—28, making it the logical spot for the supreme culminating sacrifice of the cross. Cf. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Quaestio cii, Articulus iv. 2: “Et tunc primo aedificatum fuit templum, in loco quem designaverat Abraham . . . ad immolandum,” etc. Both Fulcher and Saewulf report as eyewitnesses that the original Ark of the Covenant reposed directly in the center of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre; cited by Hagenmeyer, in Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana, 287—88. The Arabic writers are equally confusing: Qazwīnī, Cosmography 2:107—9; Ibn Ajjās, Geography, in F. Arnold, Chrestomathia Arabica, 2 vols. (Halle: Pfeffer, 1853), 1:64—66; Idrisi, Syria 9—12; Ibn Baṭuṭa, Riḥla (Cario, 1938) 1:33—34.

130.   See William Simpson, “The Middle of the World, in the Holy Sepulchre,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1888), 260—63; C. M. Watson, “The Traditional Sites on Sion,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1910), 209; C. M. Watson, tr., “Commemoratorium de casis dei vel monasteriis,” in Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1913), pl. iii, opp. p. 28. The seal of King Baldwin of Jerusalem shows the two buildings as almost identical domes, side by side within a single walled enclosure.

131.   Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana I, 30, 4.

132.   “It was another, a new creation!” cries Raimundus de Angiles, Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Hierusalem (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1968), 330—31; cited by Hagenmeyer, in Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana I, 30, 4.

133.   J. Casper Barth (1720), quoted by Hagenmeyer, in Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana, 287.

134.   The materials are given and discussed in Hagenmeyer’s edition of Fulcher, History Hierosolymitana, 285—87, 304—6.

135.   The treaty of 1229 allowed the Christians possession of the sepulchre, while the Moslems retained the Templum Domini, i.e., the distinction was clearly preserved, Charles Diehl, Le Monde oriental de 395 à 1081, vol. 3 of Histoire du Moyen Age (Paris: Presses Universitaire de France 1944), 2:462.

136.   See the long article in the Enciclopedia Universal Ilustrada (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1928) 60:727—41. The rules of the order closely resemble those of some Jewish sectaries; cf. Henry Daniel-Rops, L’eglise de la cathédrale et de la croisade (Paris: Fayard, 1952), 145, 718, 720, 730; cf. English translation by John Warrington, Cathedral and Crusade (New York: Dutton, 1957). It is not surprising that the order was accused of heresy, since it “urged the emigration of converts to Palestine to help prophecy to become fulfilled,” E. Kautzsch, cited by E. Kraeling, The Old Testament Since the Reformation (New York: Harper, 1955), 133.

137.   See, for instance, Duchesne, Origines du culte chrétien, 45 (=5th ed., 47). Cf. John Ward, “The Fall of the Templars,” Journal of Religious History 13 (1984): 92—113, for an overview of recent research.

138.   S. Kraus, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” Jewish Quarterly Review 6 (1893—94): 238, who paraphrases Rufinus, Invectio (Attack) 1, 5 and 2, 589: “If a few Jews were to institute new rites, the Church would have to follow suit and immediately adopt them.”

139.   W. Oesterly and T. Robinson, An Introduction to the Books of the Old Testament (New York: Macmillan, 1934), 194; cf. Louis Finkelstein, “The Origin of the Synagogue,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 3 (1930): 49—59.

140.   Hilary, Treatise on the Psalms 137, in PL 9:787. Symeon, Expositio de Divino Templo (Exposition on the Holy Temple) 2, in PG 155:701, describes the mass in terms of the temple. Malachi 1:11, the chief scriptural support for the mass, Gustav Oehler, Theology of the Old Testament, 519—20, deals only with the temple. Daniel-Rops, L’eglise de la cathédrale et de la croisade, 542—43, points out that the round churches of Europe, revived at the time of the Crusades, were direct imitations of the temple at Jerusalem.

141.   Chrysostom, In Epistolam II ad Corinthios Homilia (Homily on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians) 2, 2, in PG 61:476; Epiphanius, Against Heresies 61, 8, in PG 41:1049.

142.   Rupert, “De Azymo” (“On Unleavened Bread”), in De Divinis Officiis (On Divine Duties) II, 22, in PL 170:48—51; cf. Epiphanius, Against Heresies 30, 16, in PG41:432. Cf. Leo, Discourse 92, in PL 54:453.

143.   Caspar Sagittarius, in Johannes G. Graevius, ed., Thesaurus Antiquitatum Romanarum (Traject. ad Rhenum: Franciscus Halman, 1697) 6:465, 492—93, noting that the Christian veils “procul dubio imitati sunt morem in templo Salomonis.”

144.   The place of the altar is a terribilis locus, Rupert, Commentary on Genesis 7, 23—24, in PL 167:468—69, “inaccessible and terrible,” Symeon, Dialogus contra Haereses (Dialogue against Heresies) 21, in PG 155:108; and Exposition on the Holy Temple 2, in PG 155:701, citing the case of Ambrose in the West, who barred even the emperor “both from the naos and the altar.” Cf. Gregorius Nazianzenus, Carminum Liber I, Theologica Sectio II, Poemata Moralia (Moral Poems) 34, 220—65, in PG 37:961; Pachymeros, De Andronico Palaelogo (On Andronicus Palaelogus) 1, 5, in PG 144:25. In the East only the emperor could enter the tabernacle and only at Easter and his coronation, Codinus, De Officiis Constantinopolitanis (On the Offices at Constantinople) 17, in PG 157:109—10; cf. Cantacusenus, Historia (History) 1, 41, in PG 153:280—81; Ivo, Sermo (Discourse) 4, in PL 162:532—33. At Constantinople and the Vatican there was even a mark on the pavement, as there had been in the temple court of Jerusalem, to show the point beyond which the vulgar might not pass, Constantine Porphyrogenitus, De Caeremoniis Aulae Byzantinae (On the Ritual of the Byzantine Court) 1, 10, in PG 112:161, see especially the editor’s note on this.

145.   Clement of Alexandria, Stromata VII, 7, in PG 9:461, with long note by le Nourry, in PG 9:462—63; Hippolytus, Fragmenta in Jeremiam (On Jeremiah), in PG10:632. Other and later sources given by Gronovius, in Graevius, Thesaurus Antiquitatum Romanarum 7:160.

146.   Ivo, Discourse 4, in PL 162:527—35.

147.   William K. L. Clarke, Liturgy and Worship (New York: Macmillan, 1932), 55—59.

148.   Rabanus Maurus, Expositio super Jeremiam (Exposition on Jeremiah) 4, 7, in PL 111:858.

149.   Origen, Commentaria in Epistolam Pauli ad Romanos (Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans) 6, 7, in PG 14:1073; Zeno, Tractate II, 66, in PL 11:520—21; Methodius, Banquet of the Ten Virgins 5, 9, 1, in PG 18:177; Paulinus of Nola, Poema (Poem) 34, 337—48, in PL 61:683. With the fall of the temple “a stupor seems to have settled upon the Jews,” Brandon, The Fall of Jerusalem and the Christian Church, 165.

150.   Athanasius, Oratio de Incarnatione Verbi Dei (Oration on the Incarnation of the Word) 40, in PG 25:165.

151.   For Eusebius the mere statement that Jerusalem will be trodden under foot “shows that the temple shall never rise again”; he admits that the text adds “until the time of the Gentiles be fulfilled,” but when is that? Eusebius has the answer: It means never! Theophania (Theophany) 8, in PG 24:649—50. Athanasius is even more naive: We know [he argues] that Christ was a true Prophet, because Jerusalem will never rise again. And how do we know that? Because since all has been fulfilled in the coming of the true Prophet, it cannot rise again! Athanasius, Oration on the Incarnation of the Word 39, in PG 25:164—65. Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1, 5, in PL 24:29—30, insists that the words “Non est in eo sanitas” (Isaiah 1:6) refer to the time of Titus and absolutely prove that the temple can never be restored. Even more far-fetched is Eusebius’s demonstration from the 30 pieces of silver, Demonstratio Evangelica (Proof for the Gospel) 10, in PG 22:745.

152.   Origen, Contra Celsum (Against Celsus) IV, 22, in PG 11:1056—57: Tharrountes d’ eroumen, hoti oud’ apokatastathēsontai. The same argument is employed by Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 1, 1, in PL 24:20—22; and Hippolytus, Fragmenta in Danielem (On Daniel) 8—22, in PG 10:648—55.

153.   Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles that Christ is God 5, in PG 48:884, 889, 896; cf. Origen, Against Celsus IV, 22, in PG 11:1057, with a long discussion in PG 11:1056—60, telling how Grotius developed the argument. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament 3:291—92, makes this the official Protestant party line; cf. Farrar, The Life of Christ 2:255—56: “Neither Hadrian nor Julian, nor any other, were able to build upon its site,” etc.

154.   So Strahan, “Temple,” 557.

155.   Marcel Simon, Versus Israel (Paris: De Boccard, 1964), 118—20, noting, p. 120, that in spite of all efforts to explain it away the danger remains real; cf. tr. McKeating (Oxford, 1986), 91ff.

156.   Raisin, Gentile Reactions to Jewish Ideals, 370. On the usefulness of pagan ruins as object lessons, Socrates, HE I, 16, in PG 67:116—17.

157.   Kraus, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” 227.

158.   Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 17, 64, in PL 24:650, citing Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews VI, 12, to prove that the temple will never return. Theodoret, Explanation of Ezekiel 48, in PG 81:1252—53 and 1760; and Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles that Christ is God 5, in PG 48:884, 889, 896, express the same impatience. See Kraus, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” 90—91, 240—45, for others.

159.   Theophylactus, Commentary on the Gospel of Mark 13, 1—4, in PG 123:633: hōste peirōntai deixai pseudē ton Christon.

160.   The story is fully treated by M. Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” Jewish Quarterly Review, orig. ser., 5 (1893): 615—51.

161.   Rufinus, HE 1, 37, in PL 21:505; Theodoret, HE 3, 15, in PG 82:1112.

162.   So Theodoret, HE 3, 15, in PG 82:1112; Philostorgius, HE VII, 14, in PG 65:552.

163.   Rufinus, HE 1, 37, in PL 21:505; Socrates, HE III, 20, in PG 67:428—32.

164.   Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” 649. On the temple as a test case, Chrysostom, Against the Jews and the Gentiles that Christ is God 5, 3, in PG48:888; 6, 4, in PG 48:909.

165.   A blunt and recent statement is that of David M. Stanley, “Kingdom to Church,” Theological Studies 16 (1955): 26: “the definitive coming of the Church . . . terminates the existence of the Temple.”

166.   Johannes Hempel, Die althebräische Literatur und ihr hellenistisch-jüdisches Nachleben (Potsdam: Athenaion, 1930), 92. A significant point overlooked by commentators.

167.   Adler, “The Emperor Julian and the Jews,” 637—51.

168.   Ferdinand Prat, Jesus Christ, 2 vols. (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1950), 2:230, hails the fire-ball story as conclusive proof that Jesus’ prophecy of “not one stone upon another . . . has been fulfilled to the letter.” The learned le Nourry argues that while the destruction of Jewish and pagan temples by fire, especially lightning, is a sure sign of divine wrath, a like fate suffered by Christian buildings is without significance, since Christians do not believe that God dwells in houses made with hands: Note in PG 9:899—901.

169.   Athanasius, Historia Arianorum ad Monachos (Arian History) 71, in PG 25:777: “a persecution, a prelude and a preparation (prooimion de kai paraskeuē) for the Antichrist.” Cf. ibid., 74, in PG 25:781; 79, in PG 25:789.

170.   Quote from Irenaeus, Against Heresies V, 25, in PG 7:1189. Cyril of Jerusalem says it is a dreadful thing to think of, but cannot for that reason be denied, Catechesis XV. de Secundo Christ Adventu (Catechetical Lectures on the Second Coming of Christ) 15, in PG 33:889—92.

171.   Basil, Commentarius in Isaiam Prophetam (Commentary on Isaiah) 3, 110, in PG 30:296, who for the rest is very partial to a spiritual and intellectual temple, PG30:289, 233.

172.   See notes 165—70 above. In one attempt the workers unearthed a stone bearing the inscription: In the beginning was the Word. “This was proof positive that it is vain ever to try to rebuild [Jerusalem]—evidence of a divine and irrevocable decree that the Temple has vanished forever!” Philostorgius, Ecclesiastica Historia (Ecclesiastical History) 7, 14, in PG 65:552—53.

173.   Even Eusebius had his doubts and wondered if the Montanists might be right, W. Völker, “Von welchen Tendenzen liess sich Eusebius bei Abfassung seiner ‘Kirchengeschichte’ leiten?” Vigiliae Christianae 4 (1950): 170.

174.   Well expressed in Simon, Verus Israel, 118—24.

175.   See Helen Rosenau, “The Synagogue and the Diaspora,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly (1937), 200.

176.   Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah 17, 40, in PL 24:593—94.

177.   See our discussions, Hugh W. Nibley, “The Unsolved Loyalty Problem: Our Western Heritage,” Western Political Quarterly 6 (1953): 652—55; and “Victoriosa Loquacitas,” Western Speech 20 (1956): 68—72.

178.   Heinrich Bornkamm, Grundriss zum Studium der Kirchengeschichte (Gütersloh: Bertelsmann, 1949), 113—14.

179.   While Fernand Cabrol, Les origines liturgiques (Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1906), 48—56, strenuously denies that “toute cette splendeur dont le culte fut entouré” was of any but the purest Hebraic origin, such eminent Catholic authorities as Joseph Lechner and Ludwig Eisenhofer, Liturgik des römischen Ritus (Freiburg: Herder, 1953), 5—6, think otherwise.

180.   Thomas Livius, St. Peter Bishop of Rome (London: Burns & Oates, 1888), while boasting (521) that his church alone in Christendom possesses the Holy City, just like the Jews and the Moslems, never mentions the temple, but always puts the synagogue in its place, e.g., “The divinely appointed Aaronical high-priesthood . . . was in the Synagogue the fountainhead of all other priesthood” (523), “The once-favored Synagogue . . . had become a widow . . . without altar or sacrifice” (527). Only once does he let slip the ugly little word, and that in a footnote (527), but it is enough to show that he knows better and is deliberately avoiding the embarrassing word, as Christian scholars consistently do.

181.   So Gustaf Wingren, “Weg, Wanderung und verwandte Begriffe,” Studia Theologica 3 (1951): 111—12.

182.   “Le Temple est mort à jamais” is the cry of M. Simon, “Retour du Christ et reconstruction du temple dans la pensée chrétienne primitive,” in Aux sources de la tradition chrétienne: Mélanges offerts à M. Maurice Goguel (Neuchatel: Delachaux et Niestlé, 1950), 252; cf. 253, 257. An interesting development is the admission that the original Christians were devoted to the temple, coupled with a rebuke for their foolishness; so Bultmann, Theologie des Neuen Testaments 1:54, 57, cf. Eng. tr., 53, 57; O’Brien, The Life of Christ, 418. Cf. Charles Briggs, Messianic Prophecy (New York: Scribner, 1891), 289.

183.   Charles H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953), 300—1; Barrett, “The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 374—76; Burrows, Outline of Biblical Theology, 276. Even Farrar was very cautious in condemning the temple, The Life of Christ 1:192—93. W. J. Phythian-Adams’s whole book, The People and the Presence, belongs in this hesitant and compromising group.

184.   J. F. Walvoord, “The Doctrine of the Millennium,” Biblioteca Sacra 115 (1958): 106—8. “The entire sacrificial system of the Old Testament, while perhaps incongruous with western civilization aesthetics, was nevertheless commanded by God himself. . . . If a literal view of the temple and sacrifices be allowed, it provides a more intimate view of worship in the millennium than might otherwise be afforded,” ibid., 107—8.