Meditations from the Classics

Answers to Prayer
Virgil, Aeneid 6:42-76 (29 B.C.)
Luke 11:1-13

Entrance to the Cave of the Sibyl (photo by Alexander Van Loon)

The Sibyl, that woman of prediction and prophecy, lived in a huge cave hollowed out from the flank of Cumae’s hill in southern Italy. The Sibyl was a woman with connections. She could see into the future. The voice of the gods spoke through her.

 The cave where her divine utterances could be heard had a hundred wide approaches:
         “a hundred mouths from which there issue a hundred voices, the Sibyl’s answers.”1

Many people would approach the cave hoping to get guidance or answers to their prayers as Aeneas did seeking guidance for his voyage to Italy.  But the doors were closed.  Answers could not be had unless the Sibyl was particularly moved by the gods.  If a seeker happened to be slow, for example, to pay certain vows or offer sacrifices, the doors would stay closed.

Occasionally, however, the spirits would fall upon the Sibyl.  She would turn wild as she struggled with the god. The deity would often shake her and ride her until she fell exhausted to the cave floor.

Or as Virgil phrases it, the god would torment her until he “mastered her wild heart, breaking her in with a firm hand.”

And then, when the god had broken the wild woman, the answer would come.  The hundred immense doors of the place would fly open of their own accord and her inspired responses would shriek forth from the manifold mouths of the sacred cave.

The prayer process is so different for the believer:

We face no cave with a hundred shut doors.
We don’t plead before a wild-eyed Sibyl.
We don’t toss coins or offer sacrifices on bloodied altars.

No, we just come simply and humbly to the one door of our heavenly Father.  We knock with quiet confidence.  And with kind assurances, He opens the door, greets us with love and answers our prayers.

“And I say to you, ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you” (Luke 11:9).

David R. Denny Ph.D.
1 Translation by C. Day Lewis.  Original Latin text: “quo lati ducunt aditus centum, ostia centum” (www.perseus.tufts.edu).

Meditations from the Classics

Apostate
Xenophon, Anabasis (370 B.C.)  Book 1:4
1 John 2:18

The mark of an apostate was flight.  John warned his church against those who would not sustain fellowship with the saints.  Their untimely exodus was proof of their apostasy, he said:

“They went out from us, but they were not really of us; for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us; but they went out, in order that it might be shown that they are not of us” (1 John 2:19).

Those who scorn the communal meal, the Christian kiss, the hand of fellowship, the joy of worship are none other than last day anti-Christs, according to John. They left, said the apostle because they never were one of us.

Xenophon told a similar tale of desertion in his history of the Persian Expedition:

“Cyrus had gathered a large army and was marching to take the Persian throne.  When his troops arrived at Myriandus, a city on the sea near Damascus, he camped for seven days.  During the night two of his captains, Xenias and Pasion, fled.  They got on board a ship, stowed away their most valuable property and sailed off.”

The soldiers wondered what Cyrus would do.  Rumors were spreading. Cyrus called his troops together and told them that he was well aware of the betrayal, but he saw no profit in pursuing them.

“No, let them go, with the knowledge that they have betrayed worse to us than we have to them”

And so in both cases, the camp of Cyrus and John’s church, those with no kindred heart left the family. And so it is today. AWOL captains on midnight schooners to safety are too abundant. John’s advice is succinct and practical. Remain in the fellowship. Be faithful disciples. Apostasy doesn’t pay.

David R. Denny Ph.D.

Meditations from the Classics

Girded
Plautus, Captives 4:1 (200 B.C.)
Ephesians 6:14

Roman fashion

 Bible readers often hear the phrase “girding the loins.”  An example of this is found in Ephesians 6:14 where saints are urged to stand firm in faith:

“Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth (περιζωσάμενοι  τὴν  ὀσφὺν  ὑμῶν  ἐν  ἀληθείᾳ), and having put on the breastplate of righteousness.”

The Romans practiced this custom of gathering up the pallium (the Roman cloak they wore).  We see this in one of Plautus’ plays entitled Captives.  Although known for his comedies, in the instance the play has some somber moments.  The father in the story, Hegio, longs to reunite with his son Philipolemus, who has been captured in Elis. He decides he can stand it no longer and so he initiates a swap.  He sends one of his slaves to find Philipolemus hoping the captors will send him home.

Then not long after, an incredible thing happens.  A local slave saw Philipolemus getting off a boat in the harbor.  It must have worked!  The slave who saw this marvels that he is the one blessed with news and decides to rush to Hegio’s house to inform the old man.  It’s at this point that we see the custom.  The slave girds himself and races on his way.

“Now will I wend my way to this old gentleman Hegio, to whom I am carrying blessings as great as he himself prays for from the Gods, and even greater. Now, this is my determination, in the same fashion that the slaves of Comedy³ are wont, so will I throw my cloak around my neck, that from me, the first of all, he may learn this matter.”1

A girded servant usually meant that person was on an urgent mission.  Hegio, for example, when he saw the slave hustling toward him, noticed this:

“Surely he has got his cloak gathered up.  What, I wonder, is he going to do?”

So now we understand the practice a little better.  A girded Christian then is one visibly doing a task, visibly running an errand for the Master.  Are you girded?

David R. Denny  Ph.D.

1. Latin text: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.02.0096%3Aact%3D4%3Ascene%3D1
2.  Roman fashion: http://www.fashion-era.com/ancient_costume/roman-costume-history-toga.htm

Meditations from the Classics

Chariot Duo
Homer: Iliad 5:839 (762 B.C.)
Matthew 28:20

A chariot in the Iliad.

In a tense scene outside the battle-scarred walls of old Troy, Diomedes (a young Greek commander), was chastised by Athene, the goddess with the flashing eyes.

“Why aren’t you fighting?” she asked the idle soldier wounded from an arrow.

Diomedes replied, “it’s because Ares the War-god is fighting against us and you told me not to fight against the gods.”

“My dearest Diomedes,” cried Athene, “I understand; but with me at your back, you need have no fear, either of Ares or any other god. Quick now and get at him! Drive up, and do not stop to think ‘this is the redoubtable War-god’, but let him have it at short range.”

As she spoke, she reached out, dragged Sthenelus ( a captain in the army) back, and hustled him out of the chariot. “The eager goddess took her place in the car beside the noble Diomedes, and the beech-wood axle groaned aloud at the weight it had to carry, a formidable goddess and a mighty man of arms.”

It’s that last line that gets me. ” … a formidable goddess and a mighty man of arms.” δεινὴν γὰρ ἄγεν θεὸν ἄνδρά τ᾽ ἄριστον.⌉

What a team! A god and a man. An unbeatable combination.

I see this duo often in the Bible:
There’s little David running down the valley toward the giant with nothing but a sling and a stone-oh, and God.
There’s Daniel standing in the furnace, the flames hot and menacing. Oh, and God was with him.
There’s Jonah in the belly of a voracious whale all alone except, well except for God.

God and a man. Now that’s an unbeatable combination. It’s a duo you can count on if you are a disciple. It was the last thing Jesus promised before his ascension:

 “And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).

So remember.
It’s you and God in the chariot together.
There’s nothing you two can’t handle.

David R. Denny  Ph.D.

⌉The Greek text: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0133%3Abook%3D5%3Acard%3D835

Chariot artwork: http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2014/12/homer…

Meditations from the Classics

Haughty
Horace, Odes–Book 1, Poem 6 (23 BC)

https://12thehardway.wordpress.com/2013/03/06/is-it-haughty-in-here-or-is-it-just-me/

Horace was asked once by Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa (/əˈɡrɪpə/; 64/62 BC – 12 BC) to write an epic poem in celebration of his military successes and those of Octavian (Augustus, Rome’s first emperor).  Though the world knows now that there was no greater poet than Horace, the humble writer turned down the job.

“…Agrippa, I don’t try to speak of such things,…
I’m too slight for grandeur, since shame and the Muse,
who’s the power of the peaceful lyre, forbids me
to lessen the praise of great Caesar and you,
by my defective artistry.”

Imagine that.  The incomparable Horace claiming incompetence.  He goes on to say that his ability limits him to compositions of silly things.

“I sing of banquets, of girls fierce in battle
with closely-trimmed nails, attacking young men…”

Surely this is a commendable frame of mind.  Every saint could profit by emulating the humility of the talented Horace.  All of us are too quick to sing our accomplishments and position ourselves for promotions.  In truth, the Christian’s goal is genuine spiritual humility, an awareness that our lives are meant to be hidden in Christ.

John the Baptist had it right when he said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

Paul would have admired this trait in Horace who lived just a generation before him.  Paul had a similar outlook on life, one with the same mood and timbre as the poet that preceded him:

“Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly.  Do not be wise in your won estimation” (Rom. 12:16).

David R. Denny  Ph.D.
Meditations from the Classics

Translation by: http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/HoraceOdesBkI.htm#anchor_Toc39402018

Meditations from the Classics

Memory
Julius Caesar
Gallic War, Book VI (50 BC)

Druids often commune with nature.

When Caesar conquered the Gauls, he observed the customs of the Druids.  These priests of the people had a habit of memorizing all their sacred traditions.  This could take as long as twenty years!  They never wrote these mysteries down.  They trusted their memories more than ink and paper.  The fear of forgetting drove them to master their minds.

But wait.  The Lord has a better system for remembering:

“Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.  Behold, I have engraved thee upon the palms of my hands” (Isa. 49:16).

Better than mere memory.
Better than ink and paper.

We’re engraved on the palms of the Lord!  With His every activity, every movement, every motion, we pass before His eyes.

When He salutes the angels on a morning march, He sees you on His raised hands.
When He reaches down to feed a faltering sparrow, He sees  you in the creases of His fingers.
When He distributes your daily bread, He sees your face in the hollow of His palms.
When He celebrates a new birth, He claps and thinks of you.

Forgotten?  Never.  As long as God has hands you will be cherished and remembered by Him.

Hallejujah!

David R. Denny  Ph.D.

Artwork:http://www.avalon-rpg.com/guilds/druids

Meditations from the Classics

Pulpit
Apuleius (124-170 AD)
Golden Ass 11

The custom of going into a temple or house of worship, standing at the pulpit and speaking sacred words, was an established practice in Biblical times.  Paul often took the podium in synagogues where he traveled.

Ancient Jewish synagogue

Jesus stood in the bema (a raised platform with a lectern), at the synagogue of Nazareth.  He read from the Scriptures and then delivered his message.  The people listened attentively but grew restless and eventually angry at His words.  Then,

“… they rose up and cast Him out of the city, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their city had been built, in order to throw Him down the cliff” (Luke 4:29).

A similar custom was practiced in temples of the ancient world.  Apuleius gave us this description of a day at a temple in Corinth:

“On arrival at the temple, the high priest, those who bore the divine figures, and those who had been admitted into the inner light of the cult, collected in the sanctuary of the goddess.  First, they put back the breathing images into their right places: then a man (whom all entitled the scribe) took his stand in a high pulpit before the doors, and the Society of the Pastophori (such is the name of the sacred college) was convoked.  The scribe thereupon read out of a book a set of patriotic prayers for the great Prince, the Senate, the Equestrian Order, the Roman people, and all sailors and ships which come under the jurisdiction of Rome.  After that, he pronounced in the Greek tongue and manner the ‘Laois aphesis’.  The people were then dismissed” (Golden Ass, 11).

Temple of Apollo in ancient Corinth

I can’t help but notice the way the people left their service in contrast to the Lukan dismissal.  When Jesus finished, the people escorted Him out to a cliff to dispose of Him.  In other words, angry to excess.

But in the pagan temple service it was quite different:

   “The shout that followed showed the popular approval of the day’s proceedings a; and the congregation began to file out, beaming with joy, carrying boughs of olives and other votive wreaths, and garlanded with flowers.  As they left the precincts, they one and all stopped to kiss the feet of a silver image of the goddess that stood on the steps.”

Two speakers.
Two readings from different pulpits.
Two reactions.

Jesus preached the truth, and the congregation lynched Him.  The other priest preached patriotism and the listeners responded with frenzied applause.

 David R. Denny  Ph.D.
1.  Ancient synagogue:  http://dsbiblecentre.org/index.py?lang=en&page=Showbible&index=00176
2.  Temple in ancient Corinth:  http://www.pics-about-space.com/temple-of-apollo?p=3#