A dissertation; Confucius and pots; and Jorie Graham

I learned yesterday that Tim Gray’s doctoral dissertation has finally seen the light of publication! I’m not sure exactly when Mohr-Siebeck published it but it appears to have been sometime in 2008. When I left Denver last May Tim was finishing up some last-minute edits to the manuscript. Here it is: The Temple in the Gospel of Mark: A Study in its Narrative Role. (Google Books features selections from this book.) I’ve read the whole thing twice in its dissertation form and can happily vouch for its excellence.

I can honestly say that few people have had more influence on me than Tim. He’s been a teacher, a mentor and above all a friend along the Way who’s lent me his ear, his money, his pick-up truck and countless books on Scripture and theology. Everywhere in my Bible there are notes and markings from my classes with him, whether on the Pentateuch or the Prophets, on Paul or Markan eschatology. I’ve jokingly told him a few times that I can always hear his voice inside my head whenever I open up my Bible. (I still do.) I don’t think many people have the privilege of being formed and mentored by a great teacher and I’m thankful that I’m one of the few. The playground of biblical studies is more like a mine field most of the time, and my faith not only survived but was strengthened because of Tim. Congratulations, Dr. Gray!

While I’m on the subject of teachers, here is one of my favorite sayings from that old Chinese sage:

The Master said: “A gentleman is not a pot.” (Analects 2.12 [Leys])

Quite cryptic, yes? Leys explains in his note on this:

a pot: one might also translate “a utensil” or “a tool”—the idea is the same: the capacity of a gentleman is not limited as is that of a container; his abilities are not circumscribed to one narrow and specific function, like a tool which is designed for only one particular purpose. The universal aim of Confucian humanism should have particular relevance for us today, as our modern universities seem increasingly concerned with the mere training of “specialized brutes”.

The civil service which was to run China with great efficiency for two thousand years embodied the Confucian ideal: officials were selected through an examination system that essentially tested their knowledge of the Classics and their literary talent. With such an intellectual equipment, a local prefect was expected to dispatch single-handedly all the affairs of a large territory with a vast population, performing simultaneously the functions of administrator, judge, engineer, economist, police officer, agronomist, architect, military commander, etc. (not to mention that, in his leisure time, he was also supposed to be a competent calligrapher, poet, writer, painter, musician, and aesthete).

I grew up thinking that the Confucian ideal was the nerd. Not so, not so.

To close off with a little literary refinement for today, a poem featuring minnows by one of my favorite poets, the Pullitzer-crowned Jorie Graham.

“One may truly say he is fond of learning”

The Master said:
“A gentleman eats without stuffing his belly;
chooses a dwelling without demanding comfort;
is diligent in his office and prudent in his speech;
seeks the company of the virtuous in order to straighten his own ways.
Of such a man, one may truly say he is fond of learning.”

The Analects of Confucius, 1.16 (Leys; versification added)

Two teachers

The West Syriac calendar commemorates on the 2nd Saturday of the Great Fast two very important saints in our tradition, St. Ephrem and St. Isaac. (Two of the hymns for this feast in our Church’s canonical hours can be found here.) They also happen to be two teachers to whom I owe much and feel a special kinship.

I was struck that the Penqitho (the West Syriac book of offices for Sundays and feasts) remembers St. Ephrem and St. Isaac as “Teachers of Prayer”. Their greatest legacy lies not their theological smarts but in the hymns and writings by which they have taught—and continue to teach—the Church to pray. “Teacher of prayer”—isn’t that a great definition of “theologian”?

Since the Byzantine calendar recently commemorated these men on January 28th, Kevin and Jonathan already wrote beautiful and informative posts about them, so I’ll just supply the links:

• Kevin Edgecomb (Biblicalia): “Two Syrian Pearls“
• Jonathan Allen (Thicket and Thorp): “An Ineffable Transformation“

Oh, and since I’ve been thinking Confucius, here is a saying attributed to one of his disciples which I think sheds some light on the importance of honoring the saints:

Master Zeng said: “When the dead are honored and the memory of remote ancestors is kept alive, a people’s virtue is at its fullest.” (The Analects 1.9)

A great weekend to all!

“Grant me to see my own transgressions…”

The Master said: “When you see a worthy man, seek to emulate him. When you see an unworthy man, examine yourself.”

The Analects of Confucius, 4.17 (Leys)

If you think about it, he’s sort of a Chinese St. Ephrem, really. He would’ve like the Desert Fathers too.

Confucius on learning, friendship, and the gentleman

About this time last year, I began working my way through Simon Leys’ translation of The Analects of Confucius. My reading of it was put on hold, as was so much else, by my hurried move back to the country last May. Now that the Great Fast is here, however, I’ve picked it up again.

I own two translations of The Analects, the other being D. C. Lau’s. I’ve stuck to Leys, though, not only because his translation reads more smoothly, but also because I find his footnotes virtually indispensable. Since I have to say to my own shame that I don’t read Chinese (something I hope to remedy after I brush up on my koine), I can’t gauge the fidelity of Leys’ work, but his notes do a fantastic job of explaining ambiguities in the original language as well as other possible readings of the text. He is at once clear about his stance on things and fair in his presentation of alternative viewpoints–a virtue I appreciate tremendously.

Here is the opening of The Analects:

The Master said: “To learn something and then to put it into practice at the right time: is this not a joy? To have friends coming from afar: is this not a delight? Not to be upset when one’s merits are ignored: is this not the mark of a gentleman? (1.1)

On the term “gentleman”, Confucius’ ideal human being, I found Leys’ note very enlightening:

…[B]efore Confucius, the word junzi (gentleman) merely indicated social status. A major originality of Confucian thought is to have progressively divested this notion of its social definition and to have endowed it with a new, purely ethical content. This transformation had huge and radical implications, as it was eventually to call into question the fundamental structure of the aristocratic-feudal order. For the old concept of an hereditary elite it substituted the notion of an elite based not upon birth or wealth, but purely determined by virtue, culture, talent, competence and merit. Naturally such a transformation did not take place all at once; throughout the Analects, one can identify various stages of the concept: in a very few places, junzi is still used in its original, narrowly social meaning; more often, it is found in an ambiguous sense which confuses social rank and moral equality. The originality of the Confucian view is fully displayed in the  many occurrences where it is the moral dimension of junzi which is exclusively developed: on ethical grounds, a commoner can achieve the quality of “gentleman,” whereas an aristocrat can lose his qualification for such a title. (Note on 1.1, pp. 105-106)