Monday, June 2, 2025
The folly of strong drink
Tuesday, January 12, 2021
"Pure liberal" who refuses to vote is not a man but rather Aristotle's god or beast, either way an anti-social being not part of the human community
Michael Malice, here, because when it comes down to it in the end, he simply wants to be alone:
"I simply pray to be left alone."
Aristotle, Politics 1, 1253:
A man that is by nature and not merely by fortune citiless is either low in the scale of humanity or above it inasmuch as he is solitary ... the clanless, lawless, hearthless man reviled by Homer, for one by nature unsocial is also a lover of war. ...
The city-state is prior in nature to the household and to each of us individually. ...
When the whole body is destroyed, foot or hand will not exist except in an equivocal sense. ...
If each individual when separate is not self-sufficient, he must be related to the whole state as other parts are to their whole, while a man who is incapable of entering into partnership, or who is so self-sufficing that he has no need to do so, is no part of a state, so that he must be either a lower animal or a god. ...
Saturday, August 8, 2020
The Gospel of Luke's unique use of "pestilences" (loimoi) turns Jewish apocalyptic into Greek
The parallel use of loimoi in Matthew 24:7, found in the KJV and NKJV (footnoted), is weakly attested in the manuscripts and is therefore omitted by the NIV, ESV, RSV, ASV, NET and NASB.
Luke alone in the New Testament uses the otherwise relatively rare "loimos" (see in Bruzzone, below, p. 890), and in but one other place, Acts 24:5. There Luke puts the word in the mouth of a trained orator employed by the Jews to accuse St. Paul of being a "pest", which is quite funny actually (cf. Demosthenes 25.80). It must have been the mention of "famines", "limoi", in the tradition received by Luke which probably triggered his addition of "pestilences".
As an obviously educated writer, Luke probably had learned the topos as a boy.
The only translation I know of which even attempts to capture this, at least in the first half of the sentence, surprisingly, is that of J. N. Darby:
there shall be both great earthquakes in different places, and famines and pestilences; and there shall be fearful sights and great signs from heaven.
There shall be both great signs in place after place, as well as famines and pestilences, and signs from heaven both fearsome and great.
These "te...kai" and topos niceties are wholly lacking in Matthew 24:7 and Mark 13:8, which are artless and probably closer to the original form of the saying, omitting "pestilences" and "both...and". Hence the confusion in the manuscripts with the word order in Luke 21:11 itself, producing many variant readings, because the introduction of the terminology by Luke fought with the received elements.
But if one can keep from getting bogged down in all that for one moment, it points to the effort made by Luke to make the apocalyptic teaching of the Christians intelligible to Greek minds. He's trying to make it sound even more familiar to them than it already was. And this begs the question of the origin of Christian apocalyptic in the first place. Just how Hellenized was all this to begin with? It looks more plausible to me after reading Bruzzone, who, by the way, says narry a word about it. The success of the Christian movement is at least partly explained by the resonance of its message with the actual hopes and the fears shared by its hosts.
Bruzzone makes a good case that the Greek tradition is immemorially rich with suspicions of divine involvement in human ills of civil strife, war, natural calamities, such as earthquakes and tsunamis, as well as wonders and portents in the skies, and on the earth below famine, plague, and mass death (loigos). All of these things are associated, if not always in every detail, with the gospels' memory of Jesus' apocalyptic teaching . . . and with Thucydides.
Oh my God, not Thucydides.
This unique case in Luke's Gospel involving pestilence might lead some quickly to say and too quickly to say, "See, Luke was a physician, preoccupied with 'medical' terminology. That's all this is." Well, that hardly makes Luke a physician than it makes one of Thucydides.
But maybe it makes Luke an historian, and a very Greek one at that, at least in his own imagination.