The article continues to study the topic of the uprising of the image of the Kyiv philosophical school as a prominent leading Ukrainian participant in the world philosophical process of the Cold War period in the scientific and socio-political thought of the Western block, especially in the USA, Canada and Western Germany, in the second half of the twentieth century. The history of the formation of this image by scholars of the democratic world, mainly from the Ukrainian diaspora, (...) can be conditionally divided into the following stages: 1. Scientific international interaction between the USSR and the Western bloc during the transition of the USSR from Khrushchew's "thaw" to neo-Stalinist "stagnation" (early 1960s – early 1970s); 2. Intensification of the ideological confrontation between the USSR and the Western bloc countries during transition of the USSR from said "stagnation" to Gorbachev's "perestroika" (early1970s – second half of the 1980s). In contrast to the first separate critical assessments by diaspora philosophers P. Fedenko, D. Soloviy and their colleagues of philosophy in the Ukrainian SSR in the 1950s and early 1960s, primarily articles of T. Shevcenko by the director of the Institute of Philosophy of the Academy of Sciences of the Ukrainian SSR D. Ostryanin (1952 – 1962), the image of the Kyiv philosophical school in the 1970s and 1980s was significantly emphasized abroad. The political aspect of this image, dominant in which became, primarily due to its popularization by the Canadian philosopher T. Zakydalsky, the figure of a prisoner of conscience V. Lisovyi, was supplemented in the same and subsequent decades by the scientific aspect. In the memoirs of the Soviet prisoner of conscience and political immigrant L. Plyushch and in the publications of scientists from the US M. H. Teeter and B. Vitvitsky the image of the said school was generally drawn on the basis of their study of the history of the mentioned institute and the directions of its work in the 1940s – 1970s. At the same time, philosophers of the Ukrainian diaspora K. Mytrovych, W. Oleksiuk, W. Shayan and some their colleagues critically assessed the Ukrainian historical and philosophical achievements of this institute in the 1950s and 1980s. (shrink)

Based upon the Ukrainian hierarchs’ epistolary legacy, the article analyzes characteristic features of Kyiv-Mohyla Academy intellectual space, which was created by Academy alumni of different generations and various hierarchy levels. The author establishes that the closest relations were between correspondents belonging to the same or almost same hierarchy level and who were bonded together by the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy educational system and school comradeship, eventually obtained high positions in the hierarchy. Communication within the boundaries of individual centers (the (...) Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, collegiums in Chernihiv, Kharkiv, and Pereiaslav, seats of Ukrainian bishops in Russia, etc.) depended on specificity of the environment. Predominant themes encountered in the letters of the Ukrainian bishops included needs of the alma mater, the Kyiv Academy, and the collegiums. The correspondence addressed issues of their legal status, academic staff, financial support, as well as the literary work and publishing activities of the hierarchs. (shrink)

The article analyzes the main preconditions for the formation of pro-Ukrainian views among students of the Kyiv Theological Academy and determines their percentages among the graduates from the 1890s to 1907. When in the late 1850s and the early 1860s the Ukrainian intelligentsia carried out semi-legal cultural and educational work within Ukrainophile communities, few students of the Academy took part in their activities, with only 4 participants being active members in the Kyiv Hromada. Later, when students from the (...) 1890s to 1907 at the Kyiv Theological Academy joined the national movement, pro-Ukrainian activities became more popular with the clergy. According to statistical and biographical data gathered by the author, the percentage of nationally-minded graduates among Ukrainian-born students at the Academy varied from 5 to 38% depending on the year of graduation. They engaged in educational work in schools, popularized Ukrainian-language literature, collected ethnographic materials, studied the history of their native land, and translated religious literature. Moreover, 11 students left their mark in the history of the hromada movement. Such well-known public figures as Oleksandr Lototskyi, Volodymyr Durdukivskyi, Serhii Lypkivskyi, and Volodymyr Chekhivskyi, who all played a significant role in the events of the national revolution and the struggle for the independence of Ukraine, deserve special mention. Active participation of Academy graduates in Ukrainian public life challenges the general view of the Kyiv Theological Academy as a highly reactionary educational institution that trained cadres who served only the interests of the Russian Empire. (shrink)

The Kirillov Monastery at White Lake in the far north of the Muscovite state was home to the greatest library, and perhaps the only secondary school, in all of medieval Russia. This volume reconstructs the educational activities of the spiritual fathers and heretofore unknown teachers of that monastery. Drawing on extensive archival research, published records, and scholarship from a range of fields, Robert Romanchuk demonstrates how different habits of reading and interpretation at the monastery answered to (...) different social priorities. He argues that 'spiritual' and 'worldly' studies were bound to the monastery's two main forms of social organization, semi-hermitic and communal. Further, Romanchuk contextualizes such innovative phenomena as the editing work of the monk Efrosin and the monastery's strikingly sophisticated library catalogue against the development of learning at Kirillov itself in the fifteenth century, moving the discussion of medieval Russian book culture in a new direction. The first micro-historical 'ethnology of reading' in the Early Slavic field, Byzantine Hermeneutics and Pedagogy in the Russian North will prove fascinating to western medievalists, Byzantinists, Slavists, and book historians. (shrink)

A contribution to the sixth installment of the Common Knowledge symposium “Apology for Quietism,” this article addresses a) the extent to which the familiar term “Buddhist quietism” is legitimate, b) the use of the term by Jesuit missionaries in Asia at the time that Catholic quietism was briefly flourishing in Europe, and c) the use of the term in the European philosophical controversy over Spinozism. Faure argues that, in most cases, the European critique of Buddhism was aimed at European enemies. (...) Chan Buddhism in China and Zen in Japan came to be associated with nihilism as well as quietism, and the association proved resilient down into the twentieth century, but the Jesuit critique has a peculiar provenance. The Jesuits in China borrowed arguments against Buddhism from neo-Confucianist allies, yet the Confucian critique of Buddhism was itself indebted to arguments that had been directed by Buddhist schools against one another. Certain Chan schools had accused other Chan schools of quietism and nihilism, and Western scholars even in the later twentieth century have taken sides in these disputes as well. However, Faure argues, the “no-thought” of Chan is not the “blank slate” of Christian quietism, on which God engraves his will and blessings. Nor does Buddhist quietism lead to the extasis of mystical union. Moreover, Buddhism was perceived by East Asian rulers mainly as an ideological weapon and only secondarily as a soteriological doctrine. Indeed “warrior monks” in Japan formed bands that attacked all who threatened their interests, and the country could not be unified under Tokugawa rule until this activist Buddhism was quelled. The article concludes with an expression of admiration for quietism and a wish that there might be more of it in Buddhism now. (shrink)

Longchen Rabjampa (1308–64), scholar of the Tibetan Buddhist Nyingma tradition, presents a novel doxographical taxonomy of the so-called Svātantrika branch of Madhyamaka Buddhist philosophy, designating the Indian Mādhyamika Śrīgupta (c. 7th/8th century) as the exemplar of a Svātantrika sub-school which maintains that appearance and emptiness are metaphysically distinct. This paper compares Longchenpa’s characterization of this “distinct-appearance-and-emptiness” view with Śrīgupta’s own account of the two truths. I expose a significant disconnect between Longchenpa’s Śrīgupta and Śrīgupta himself and argue that the (...) impetus for Longchenpa’s doxographical innovation originates not in Buddhist India, but within his own Tibetan intellectual milieu, tracing back to his twelfth-century Sangpu Monastery predecessors, Gyamarwa and Chapa. (shrink)

B a c k g r o u n d. The current research focuses on Ukraine's academic philosophical culture in the second half of the 20th century during the Soviet era, emphasising the historical and methodological bases of truth interpretation by its representatives. Using descriptive methodology and comparative analysis, it was found that the Ukrainian academic philosophy of this period, represented here by the legacy of recognised figures often referred to in the philosophical literature as the Kyiv School (...) of Philosophy, is a revival of philosophy in Ukraine based on so-called "authentic" Marxism-Leninism. M e t h o d s. In particular, to analyse the concept of truth, representatives of the Ukrainian academic philosophical culture of the studied period employed the dialectical method, which is interpreted in dialectical materialism through the concept of the "development" of the material universe. Specifically, within this dialectics of nature, dialectical negation is considered a stage of object development in which the achievements of the earlier stages are not eliminated but rather "removed" – contained within it. R e s u l t s. The interpretation of logic as a theoretical reflection of historical patterns in theoretical form enabled them to define truth as correspondence to reality and analyse it through the lens of the dialectical inter-transformation of the categories of subjective and objective, relative and absolute. The application of the dialectical method to the concepts of "relative" and "absolute" resulted in the identification of "relatively absolute," "absolutely relative" truth, and the opposition of the "relatively absolute truth" to the "absolutely absolute truth." They regard the latter – absolutely absolute truth – as an unreachable ideal that serves as a regulative principle, the pursuit of which promotes cognitive progress through the accumulation of partial, relative truths. C o n c l u s i o n s. Thus, in the second half of the 20th century, during the Soviet era, representatives of Ukraine's academic philosophical culture employed dialectical materialism methodology to define the concept of truth, allowing them to justify the process of cognition as complex and endless. At the same time, as representatives of that era's academic philosophy have emphasised, on the path to achieving relative truths, in addition to objective dialectical contradictions, there are also subjective formal-logical errors and mistakes that can only be distinguished from objective contradictions through practical verification. (shrink)

Kyiv - “Jerusalem of the land of Rus” with its shrines, miraculous icons, churches, monasteries has always attracted thousands of pilgrims. For a long time, one of the most popular saints of Kiev was the martyr Barbarian.

Academic integrity in education and science is understood as an ability that translates from possible into actual justice in the relations of students, teachers and scientists, their respect for their own dignity and the dignity of colleagues, as well as a focus on sincere creativity and co-creation. Academic integrity is the ability to maintain and develop the reputation of a conscientious, tolerant and creative professional who does not envy the talent of colleagues and does not appropriate their achievements. In the (...) article, academic integrity appears not only as a demand and a challenge, but also as a will. In the coordinates of the methodology of meta-anthropology, it is proven that at the level of the will to self-preservation and procreation, as well as at the level of the will to power, any virtue, including academic and conditional, moreover, its deformations and distortions are possible. Only under the influence of the will to knowledge and creativity of the finite being of a person, which is supplemented by the will to co-creation in the meta-boundary being, academic integrity acquires an unconditional character and naturalness. It has been proven that true academic integrity is impossible without true academic dialogue, without it it turns into a simulacrum. The heuristic meaning of the concept “will to academic integrity” is substantiated. The will to academic integrity is an important component of the will to scientific novelty and actualizes academic writing that has heuristic achievements, is free from plagiarism, does not amount to compilation and is not a fabrication. As an example of the action of such a will in the academic community, the Kyiv anthropological school is presented in its development in the directions of existential anthropology and metaanthropology. The role of academic integrity in conditions of war and peace is shown. (shrink)

The article considers the history of implementation and evolution of Accusatory theology in the Kyiv Theological Academy. The author shows the place where the controversy with other religions and other Christian denominations took place in the curriculum of the Kyiv Theological Academy after the introduction of the Statute of the religious schools of 1808–1814 in Kyiv. The article deals with the content of the lecture courses of Archbishop Smaragd, Archimandrite Antonin, Bishop Sylvester, Philip Ternovsky, and Bishop Augustine. (...) The author shows that the Accusatory theology was not an independent academic discipline at first, but it was part of the general course of theology. For the first time, lectures on accusatory theology were given in Kyiv in 1823. On the recommendation of the Commission of theological schools, teachers of this discipline were to use the book of the German Lutheran theologian Johann Ernst Schubert «Institutionum Theologiae polemicae» during the preparation of lectures. Comparison of this book with the lectures of hieromonk Smaragd shows that the work of the German theologian was used by the Kyiv teacher quite selectively. Next, the article shows how in the following decades the content of the course of accusatory theology varied, depending on the general situation in theological education in the Russian Empire. In particular, the changes that took place in the curriculum of the Kyiv Theological Academy in the 1840’s were characterized on the initiative of the Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, Mykola Protasov. The author drew attention to the personal preferences of professors who found a reflection in their curriculum in Accusatory theology. In particular, Bishop Sylvester in his course substantially expanded the controversy with the latest philosophical currents that opposed Christianity. Instead, Philip Ternovsky and Bishop Augustine actively used the historical method, resulting in their courses representing the history of the controversy of the Orthodox Church with its various opponents. In the 1860’s, when a large-scale reform of theological education was being prepared in the Russian Empire, the idea of a radical revision of the accusatory theology teaching concept was heard at the Kyiv Theological Academy. At the same time, some professors even advocated the abolition of accusatory theology as an independent discipline and for joining it to the course of church history. Special attention is paid to the fact that the courses of accusatory theology in the Kyiv Theological Academy in the nineteenth century were based on typical contemporary ecclesiology and soteriology of that time. The purpose of the course was seen not in the equal dialogue with opponents, but in revealing their mistakes and attempts to convert them to the Orthodox Church. Article received 03.07.2019. (shrink)

This article is the first to bring into scientific discussion and to provide a historico-philosophical analysis of a manuscript “Neoplatonic Philosophy from the archive of Pamfil Danylovych Yurkevych. The reviewed manuscript belongs to P. D. Yurkevych’s handwritten nachlass stored in the funds of the Institute of Manuscript of V. I. Vernadsky National Library of Ukraine in the city of Kyiv. Additional archival materials are involved to answer several research questions. The author of this article provides arguments in favor of (...) proving that the manuscript is to be attributed to P. D. Yurkevych’s own handwriting, to be dated circa 1856, and that the purposing of its content is to be qualified as didactic. As it is established in the article, textual content of the manuscript in question is an original concise description and analysis of neoplatonic philosophy, which belongs to the set of materials created by P. D. Yurkevych in preparation for teaching the course on Ancient Philosophy in Kyiv Theological Academy during Kyivan period of his work. Turning to the inner critique of the manuscript, author of this article emphasizes an analysis that P. D. Yurkevych conducts concerning Plotinus’s ideas of the process of emanation of the world from the One and the role that philosophy has in true cognition. While comparing the manuscript “Neoplatonic Philosophy” with one of P. D. Yurkevych’s substantial philosophical works “Idea”, additional light is shed upon the prosess of genesis and development of Christian-Platonic worldview of the thinker. Furthermore, it is established that the manuscript in question played a major role in P. D. Yurkevych’s own schooling, particulary concerning his view on the philosophy of Plotinus, and his general reception of the Platonic tradition. (shrink)

In twelfth-century Europe schools flourished in many centres. There were schools in monasteries and cathedrals, primarily for the education of monks and priests but often open also to laymen. In Italian towns, especially, there were lay schools teaching law and commercial skills to fee-paying students. In France, especially, also in England and other countries, there were schools for feepaying students of the liberal arts. The traditional list of the liberal arts included seven: grammar, logic and rhetoric (the "trivium"), and arithmetic, (...) geometry, astronomy and music (the "quadrivium"): most of the schools we're talking about taught the trivium, grammar, logic and rhetoric. These three disciplines in one way or other taught language skills; they were sometimes called the artes sermocinales. Students who had completed these "trivial" studies sometimes moved on to theology, or sometimes set up as teachers themselves of grammar, logic and rhetoric. Some students travelled from country to country looking for a good school, and sometimes made their living for a while by teaching before becoming students again. (shrink)

Throughout the Middle Ages, documents commemorating the names of dignitaries and benefactors in monasteries and churches were characterized as liber vitae, just as the heavenly book mentioned in the Bible. Those whose names were inscribed in such a list were promised eternal life through commemoration. The paper discusses material and medial aspects of the mediation of salvation within such documents as well as the shifts between different sorts of bookkeeping arising between the 9th and the 15th century by focusing on (...) writing strategies, document organization, and layout in Carolingian confraternity books, monastic necrologies, and late medieval obituaries or anniversary books from collegiate and parish churches. Their differing structures show how concepts and places of liturgical commemoration changed over the centuries. (shrink)

In Tibetan monasteries depictions of eight Indian Buddhist philosophers collectively referred to as the “six ornaments and two supreme ones” are often found. These “six ornaments” are Nāgārjuna, Āryadeva, Asaṅga, Vasubandhu, Dignāga, and Dharmakīrti. These paintings are usually grouped around a central representation of Buddha Śākyamuni. This iconographic set gives a straightforward way of dividing Indian Buddhist philosophical thought into four intellectual streams: Abhidharma, Madhyamaka, Yogācāra and what is often referred to as the epistemological‐logical school of Dignāga and Dharmakīrti. (...) Each of these four schools constitutes a philosophical system of considerable complexity dealing with questions in metaphysics, epistemology, the philosophy of logic and language, ethics, and so forth. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Merton and Buddhism: Wisdom, Emptiness and Everyday MindKristin Johnston LargenMerton and Buddhism: Wisdom, Emptiness and Everyday Mind. Edited by Bonnie Bowman Thurston. Louisville, KY: Fons Vitae, 2007. 271 pp.This particular book—Merton and Buddhism—is the fourth in a series that seeks to study world religions “through the lens of Thomas Merton’s life and writing” (p. viii). The first three volumes in the series are Merton and Sufism, Merton and (...) Hesychasm, and Merton and Judaism. This book continues in the same format and includes essays from a variety of scholars addressing various aspects of Merton’s engagement with different schools of Buddhism. It is divided into four main parts, with a fifth part that contains a helpful bibliography as well as notes on the different contributors. Additionally the text is peppered with a variety of illustrations, including a center section with many pictures of images of the Buddha from different cultural contexts. The assortment of black-and-white illustrations include pictures of people Thomas Merton (1915–1968) met on his travels, pictures he took while on his “Asian Journey,” and pictures of Merton himself and Our Lady of Gethsemani Monastery.The volume begins with two helpful essays that orient a novice reader to the volume. The first essay, by the late Roger Corless (1938–2007), is a simple, straight-forward [End Page 218] introduction to Buddhism. This is useful for readers who are drawn to this book by the desire to learn more about Merton but have no background in Buddhism itself. The second essay is by Bonnie Thurston, who describes her piece as “Merton and Buddhism 101” (p. 15). Her essay describes primarily the “when” and the “why” of Merton’s interest in Buddhism, noting that Merton was not interested in becoming a Buddhist himself, but rather believed that his own (and others’) practice of Christianity could be positively informed by Buddhism, particularly in its attention to meditation and dismantling what Merton called the “false self.”The second main part of the book is devoted to essays that each focus on Merton’s engagement with a specific Buddhist tradition. While it is clear that Merton was particularly influenced by and drawn to Zen Buddhism (Ruben Habito supplies the essay on Merton’s experience with Zen in this section), he did not limit himself to Zen, but sought out connections and experience with individuals from diverse Buddhist backgrounds. Thus, the first essay in this section details his meetings with monks from the Theravada tradition and emphasizes the central role Merton’s own monastic identity played in his understanding and evaluation of Buddhism as a whole.The second essay is of particular importance, as it discusses Merton’s engagement with Tibetan Buddhism, which many believe would have developed into a much deeper connection had his exposure to Tibetan Buddhism not come at the very end of Merton’s life. The author of this essay, Judith Simmer-Brown, notes that “Previously, Merton’s interests had been in Zen Buddhism, but after meeting Tibetans in India he felt an immediate rapport” (p. 53). The Tibetans also shared this experience. The Dalai Lama (from whom Merton received meditation instruction), Trungpa Rinpoche, and Chadral Rinpoche, among others, all recognized his spiritual depth and honesty. At the end of her essay, Simmer-Brown reflects on the strong impression the mountain Kanchenjunga made on him (this is the “seventh mountain” of Merton’s personal geography—see The Seven Mountains of Thomas Merton, by Michael Mott) and speculates as to how Merton might have continued to explore Tibetan Buddhism, had he lived beyond the year.The final essay in this section is of a different nature, but serves a very important purpose. John Keenan’s essay, “The Limits of Thomas Merton’s Understanding of Buddhism,” makes clear that Merton’s understanding of Buddhism reflects the general ignorance of Buddhism by Western Christians at that time, and thus, while Merton’s engagement with Buddhism was “welcome and mind-stretching” to his audience in the 1960s, it is “quite insufficient today for any dialogue with Buddhism, or with Zen” (p. 121). Keenan notes that a large part of the problem stems from Merton’s... (shrink)

Saichō 最澄, one of the most prominent of Japanese Buddhist innovators, is the renowned ninth-century founder of the Tendai School, the first Japanese Buddhist sect with its own system of temples and monasteries, ordinations, practices and philosophy. It was in the goal of founding and maintaining an authentic Buddhist monastic institution that, for better or worse, influenced his thinking, and structured his philosophy. Although Saichō’s identity as founder is beyond dispute, this accomplishment was initially made possible through what we (...) might call modes of self-displacement, essentially establishing his legitimacy as founder by tracing the origins of Tendai beyond himself to founders even more prominent in the minds of his contemporaries. It is through our participation in this initial displacement of Saichō that the meaning of his contributions to Japanese Buddhism will begin to unfold. (shrink)

Don't tell terrible stories—everyone here has enough of their own. Everyone here has a whole bloody sack of terrible stories, and at the bottom of the sack is a hammer the narrator uses to pound you on the skull the instant you dare not believe your ears. Or to pound you when you do believe. Not long ago I saw a tomboyish girl on Khreshchatyk Street demand money of an elderly woman, threatening to bite her and infect her with syphilis. (...) Don't stroll through Volodymyr Hill Park, don't stroll around the botanical garden, and especially don't stroll on Kontraktova Square. Don't stroll anywhere. Don't go to the pavilion with the Golgotha panorama near St. Alexander's Church. Not even the twelve-meter-tall crucified Christ will save you. Don't go outside when it's dark and people turn into shadows a shade darker than dark. Also don't go where you can be seen from far away. Not to imply that people used to be like a bunch of lilies, but now they stink like a cellar of cabbage.The city, which earlier might have had some fun, is now going crazy. It's like a fish in warm water: it doesn't react to anything, swims slowly like it doesn't care if it swallows a hook or not. The excitement and exaltation pass into oppression, just as our necks have sunk into our shoulders, our shoulders into our lumbars, our lumbars into our nether regions. The holiday turns into a funeral, the parades into explosions, depression into mania. Winter passes into summer, people turn into beasts, the hours into ages, and the ages into hours. It's worth simply walking around the city to see a soldier from an unknown army taking a piss near the opera. Farther on is a row of identical old widows selling ball gowns and candelabra. Then there are the aristocrats and manufacturers who throw so much at the prostitutes that they'll soon be richer than their wives.I returned late through the Kyryliv Wood, not heeding all the warnings that I myself have given here. It really is dangerous—the place is famous for it. There's a madhouse nearby, caves where criminals and the sick can hide out. Also, once upon a time, as they say in fairy tales, the great dragon Zmei Gorynich lived here beside the Puchai River. The stench in these places drives away the most committed misanthropes and even one type of philanthrope—that is, perverts. It sounds dumb, but the stench is cleansing. I don't know where it comes from. After the operating theaters and the rooms with amputees, the stench no longer repelled or attracted me; it just was. And this was a great place to think. As I walked, I considered an incident with our patient.The patient, a respectable individual whose name carries too much weight for me to state it directly, one day began to assault people. He nearly strangled a merchant who he believed asked too much for a beaver coat. He likewise wanted to kill his business partner when he didn't say hello loudly enough. But the worst was, he lost all shame of his own nakedness. At first it was the police who took care of it. When our future patient slipped off his pants and undergarments, he was taken to Kyrylivska, which has had means for dealing with such cases dating back to the day when unhinged Cossacks and composers from Kyiv Mohyla Academy were taken there.During the examination we determined that the patient was experiencing a severe breakdown. His wife added that lately, more than once, he had allowed himself strong words in front of the children and often suffered from ennui. Furthermore, she said, the patient had been undergoing treatment for “the French disease” for some years—which was, obviously, where we needed to start.“Syphilis!” Skorsky spat out the matchstick he was chewing on. He was a specialist on the psychological aspects of diseases related to the venereal. “Tertiary syphilis! When poorly treated, over time ‘the French disease’ can destroy the central nervous system. Hence the patient's chicanery. Such theater!”Skorsky and I had not spoken since the incident at Bilinsky's. Meanwhile, something significant had happened to him. The most boring person on earth, Skorsky had simply caught fire. He said hello and kibitzed. I even heard the doctor got drunk alone in his office, then wandered through the forest. Could he be using narcotic substances?“Cocaine!” was the doctor's second proclamation. It was his favorite treatment for the psychological complications of syphilis. Skorsky himself never took what he called “the universal drug”—good for alcoholism and toothaches, neuroses and morphine dependency—though he had read in an article by a respectable Viennese physician, who used cocaine as a panacea, that it was not addictive. That doctor subsequently recanted, but Skorsky paid no attention. He believed the retraction was made under pressure from pharmacologists who had no incentive to cease production of the medications that cocaine might supplant. Their representatives either paid or threatened the Viennese to repent.As the patient was escorted to his room, he assaulted the orderly, Alevtyna. They tried pulling him off her, but, though he released his fingers from her neck, he buried his teeth in her leg. The poor orderly, who had not until then been attacked by a psychotic, nearly died of fear. Later, panic set in over Skorsky's diagnosis. He told her about the consequences of syphilis: grotesque patterns on one's face due to infection of the skin, mucous membranes, cartilage, and bones. He went on about the devastation to the central nervous system, which they had just observed in real life: “The face starts to look like lace some mangy dogs fought over before rolling in the mud.”Alevtyna, who had not yet regained her faculty of speech, straightened up. Ignoring the slavering male orderlies, she bared her leg to get a better look at the wound. She then ran down the hall and out into the garden, where she fell on the ground to rip up grass and small bunches of daisies. Alevtyna ate them along with the soil in their roots.“Minor hysteria. She needs fifteen milligrams of cocaine.”Skorsky took a snuff box out of his pocket and scooped up some white powder with a toothpick made from a goose feather. He gave the order to close Alevtyna's mouth and one of her nostrils, forcing her to snort the medication.We fretted over her so long that evening fell. I decided to walk down, along the ravine, behind the church.It was unlikely there were any large beasts there, but something was rustling. The pits and mounds, ravines, paths, graves of witches whose living sisters flew in the treetops from time to time, the whispers of the forest spirits, the spirits of the nutcases who died in the hospital, the spirits of the monks from the St. Cyril Monastery, Zmei Gorynich and the bogatyrs who wanted to defeat him. The city would be calmer without this forest. I saw the gaps between the trees and went off in the direction of the tram tracks.As I was coming out of the forest, there was a patch of Amanita muscaria that had been trampled into porridge. A bit farther on, the body of Professor Bilinsky lay killed in the blackberry bushes. The way he was lying it looked as though he had not struggled before death. I quickly examined his body but saw nothing out of the ordinary. There were no wounds, no dirt under the fingernails. Animals had not yet smelled the carrion, but swarms of various insects covered him. Oh, why did I have to find the putrid body?The best thing would be to take the tram to his house to inform his relatives. The doors closed, and I noticed my own calm. This death had not evoked any emotions in me other than a feeling of responsibility, the need to tell the family. But also—some alarm at the thought of who the murderer could be. I knew that it was murder.“Your nose is bleeding.” A woman as round as an onion, carrying two baskets full of strawberries, offered me an ironed and starched handkerchief.“Have I dirtied my shirt?”“No, it's as neat as a pin. It's just your nose that's dirty. Wipe it now before you spray blood on my strawberries.”“No one will see the red on red.”“Ah, but it's salty!”“You know why it's not sweet? We'd drink it like syrup.”“Those with Christ in their heart do not talk that way.”“Are your strawberries expensive?”“Why? What?”“I'm checking to see if you have God in your heart.”“Child, if you knew how I have to work for this berry! I have to weed it a hundred times. In a week, the quitch grass grows as high as a horse. And I water it with water I carry from the stream, it kills my arms... ”“How much are the berries?”“They're not for sale. Anyway, soon money won't mean a thing. Soon all money, all these papers made from the skins of sinners on their satanic presses will be annulled. What matters is how we treat each other.”“So if I try your strawberries for free, my ‘thank you’ will be enough?”“Hands off!” she said and thwacked my fingers.I heard loud laughter behind me—same laughter as from the café near the Continental. There was no one sitting near Alina. (This is what fate looks like, remember.) Without asking, I sat next to her, away from the old lady.“Excuse me, but the night before last didn't you, yes, didn't you intrude on my privacy?” She started right away.“I saw it a little differently. Who was that young man with the mustache who paid me for you?”“Are you checking to see if you can flirt?”The tram stopped. People got on and off.“Are you coming back from the hospital?” she asked. “Don't be shocked. My uncle works there. He's told me all about you.”“An uncle by the name of Skorsky?”(Remember: this is what fate looks like.)“Yes. Skorsky's been strange recently—says things that make me wonder if he hasn't lost his mind. Have you noticed anything?”“I don't know.”“You know perfectly well.”“Where are you going?” I tried to change the subject.“I have to send something to my theater friends in Odesa. By the way, they'll be putting on Oedipus Rex soon in Kyiv—in Ukrainian.”“Greek tragedy in Ukrainian! That's a first.”“Exactly. The troupe is rehearsing now in Odesa. The theater where they will perform this fall is being remodeled.”“Wait. Now I remember where I've seen you before—it was at a performance! Vynnychenko's Black Panther and White Bear, at the Bergonier on Fundukleivska.“The same director is doing the Oedipus. He's my friend.”“He's your friend in what sense?”“Again with that tired subject. By the way, I've been thinking about you.”“And I about you.”“That's good. I was thinking not about you, to be precise, but about that elevator you invited me on.”“Who was that man with you?”“Like a broken record! Even if he had been my fiancé, I'm not bought or inherited. I'm not a brooch or a hundred acres of land, and I'm not a house in Kaniv!... Who was with you when you saw Black Panther?“Ah, so.”“Answer!”“That was my mother. She looks very young. She is coming to Kyiv the day after tomorrow. I can introduce you.”“Oh, this is my stop.”I looked out the window and realized that I had long since passed the stop for Bilinsky's.“Can we see each other again?”“We can. But you have only one chance.”Alina the anarchist wrote something on a scrap of paper and handed it to me.Morning, not morning but a thick porridge (I hate porridge). Dew, thick spit, crushed fruits, urine, all on the sparkling cobblestones. The sun, just barely having made its appearance, is already scorching. The human masses scurry and grumble like poorly digested food inside a stomach.I walked diagonally across St. Sofia's Square, then along the perimeter, then one edge, then again diagonally across. I went underground. The basement café of the Continental Hotel was practically empty. I again asked the server to bring the cloth with the embroidered portrait, but I couldn't remember the musician's last name, only that it ended with -sky. The server said that -sky was currently in the southern cities of Yalta and Odesa. I added that Kurbas, the director, Alina's friend, was also in Odesa, rehearsing Oedipus Rex, and that he'd previously put on Black Panther.I was bored, so I walked along Khreshchatyk and then headed down, calling to mind all the Kyiv churches of Podil: there's Birth of Christ, St. Nicholas on the Shore, Intercession, Pyrohoshcha, Holy Presentation, St. Dymytrii Rostovsky, St. Illia's. And also the Epiphany Brotherhood Monastery, Ascension Convent, and St. Katherine's, all these whipped-cream churches on the waffles of our streets. A few of them reminded me of themselves by appearing suddenly out of nowhere.The smells on Kontraktova Plaza where commerce buzzed were like multicolored light bulbs turning on one after another. Here you could catch the aroma of Balabukha jam, which blended with the next smell, English shoe polish at the Raiskys’ shop. Then the crunchy-smelling cabbage from old women standing in a row like herons and spitting out the shells of sunflower seeds. Farther on, the stench of a good-sized rat that crawled under Mrs. Shevchuk's shop where she sells broadcloth. Oh, she can't scream: no, she'll quietly dig that rat out herself so as to not scare off her clients.I bought a paper and two pairs of underwear. I asked two laughing young chambermaids who were secretly puffing in a grape-filled yard for a smoke. I wandered around Podil until evening when I came across a sawmill near the Dnipro that surprisingly smelled pleasantly of mazut fuel oil. The weather was dry, yet in the middle of the road was an enormous puddle, a deep dark black. A forty-year-old woman in a pale pink dress stood near it. The theatricality of it all provoked me to pose her a question,“Ma'am, what should I do?”But she paid me no attention. I shouted,“What should I do?”“What to do, what to do?” she said in Polish. “Jump in the water and swim so far away that you cannot return.”I quickly crossed a section of the forest. The wind brought a mixture of unpleasant air, like a stinky handkerchief held under one's nose. Passing the trees, I saw light in the spaces between them and exited at the hospital.Outside the windows, two orderlies lay in chairs with their heads thrown back. Two others—fools—ran around the yard in different directions, peering out at... something. The lights on the first floor of the hospital were on, and the staff milled about.“You're just in time!” said Ivan, a tall, young orderly.“For what?”“Your patient ran away! We went into his room and he wasn't there.”“What patient?”“The one who bit Alevtyna,” said Danylo, the other orderly, short and middle-aged.“That's Skorsky's patient, not mine.”I had no intention of helping them. This was all history—like my family, Kyiv, and my previous life. I had no intention of thinking about it. I wanted to go to my office, pack up my field surgery kit, and get out. So what? Their psychotic syphilitic ran away—it happened.Of course, that patient could have something to do with Bilinsky's murder. But that was no longer my problem.“What a strange coincidence!” the doctor on duty said. “Comrade doctor, the other one responsible for this patient was just here.”“And where is he now?”“He took off toward the church to look for the patient.”“Didn't the patient escape earlier?”“Don't know.”“How do you not know? You had better call the police, moron, before he kills someone. And get those sleeping orderlies to look for him.”“They can't... ”“Why not? Should I go wake them?”“They're on morphine.”“And you, I can see, have lost your mind. Go, catch your psycho! If it turns out that he killed Bilinsky—and on your watch—you can't imagine what's in store for you.”I adjusted my homburg and set off in the direction of St. Cyril's, that unwelcoming monolithic cube. I glanced around—what if our escaped syphilitic were to jump out of the bushes and bite or strangle me. I looked around because I wasn't sure of my actions, wasn't sure of my choices. Tripping over a clump of clover, I reached the open doors of the church. I couldn't stop myself from going in.The walls and ceiling were covered with frescoes. There was what used to be an angel rolling up the sky on the southern column of the narthex. But also graffiti: people scratched their names on it so as not to be forgotten—their idea of eternity. Prince Volodymyr the Great compared this activity to the desecration of graves. The vandals paid a fine and were beaten with canes. During the raids of Batu Khan, the church was deserted and cracks appeared all over it. Wild martens and feral dogs sought shelter here; insects swarmed under the ceiling with its red mosaics. Birches grew in its midst. Water seeped in the cracks, the water became ice, the ice widened the cracks, more water seeped in the cracks, becoming more ice that further widened the cracks, the wall split and nearly fell over, and then the wall fell over. Yet the angel is still rolling up the sky... When I reached the exit, I heard a rustling behind me. I turned after I stepped outside: in the depths of the church, like a stick in a pot of tar, stood a man with a large bag thrown over his shoulder and a revolver pointed right at me.“Is that you, Doctor?“Don't move!”“What's... Skorsky, what's with you?”“Don't move, I say!”“What are you doing here?”And finally I understood... Skorsky was himself the psycho! (Really, I had known for a while.)“You are the murderer! I knew it! But—why?”“Shut up.”“It was you. You! The stolen cigarettes, the strange behavior, Bilinsky. If I shout, everybody will come running. They've already called the police!”There was heavy breathing behind me. And then a gun rang out.The city is overgrown with new buildings. They encircle everything that was once on the periphery. Kyiv has become an old lady that can no longer restrain herself in the face of pastries. The city climbs farther. It steps over the swamps, turns the old rivers into a series of lakes; the other bodies of water it drives into canals. The grain that falls from the wild wheat is black. When the sun heats it, the grain melts and trickles into the earth. St. Cyril's stands indestructible. No one spackles the small cracks in its walls with either expensive putty or glues, nor with cheap cement and whitewash. One day a small fox appears in the doorway. It runs inside and along the floor of simple gray tiles. The gods watch from the walls, watch and fall into ruin. The fox runs to the iconostasis. Before it is a time-darkened Virgin Mother and Child in oil on sheets of zinc. The fox runs the metal steps that wind up to the second floor. The fox runs past all the vaults, naves, all the frescoes. A buckthorn seed flies in through a broken window. It will be the first. Soon the buckthorn will grow everywhere. A dumb hare will make its nest in the buckthorn bushes and nightingales will settle in the upper branches to sing until the end of the world. The fox runs between the thick rays that penetrate the windows. It catches one of the rays, squints its eyes, and warms itself in the sun.The shot rang out, but I did not fall. I looked around—and on the church threshold was our syphilis patient bearing a rod. His head lay on the rocks by the doorway.“If only he'd been at the stage of nose deformity! Just imagine: a hole instead of a nose plus a hole from the bullet—like an extra pair of eyes!” Skorsky laughed at the corpse.“We need to call the orderlies.”“They heard the shot. They'll run here on their own. You see, Professor Bilinsky believed it would take two or three years to wrap up this patient's case,” Skorsky told me. “But I took care of it much faster!”“Excuse me, but I'm going crazy in this city. I thought that you were Bilinsky's murderer.”“Just so. Why not? I am Bilinsky's murderer.”“Don't tease. You've changed a lot recently, so... ”“Yes, I've started killing people. You might term such a change significant.”“You have the right to irony.”“I am not being ironic.”“Let's call it sarcasm.”“It's the honest-to-God truth.”“And yes, you have the right to mock me.”“Well then, let's be done. To the horses!”“What horses?”“Alina's waiting!”Alina, her uncle Skorsky, a few others I didn't know, and I rode like the wind that ripped off my homburg and carried it back to Kyiv.“There's a fresco in the choir loft at St. Cyril's where Vrubel painted himself and patients from the hospital as the apostles. When I came across it by accident, I really believed they were saints,” Alina said.“I've never been up there. I've only seen the church from below.”“Remember the way back so you can see it sometime.”“The Puchai River used to flow here. You shouldn't trust the landscape,” Skorsky said, reaching for something, perhaps his bag, just when we left the darkness of the trees and saw the endless steppe ahead of us.We rode all night without stopping. Though no one was chasing us. Though we had nowhere to be. We rode like beasts released from a cage. The promises of the horizon turned what we'd left behind into a cage fit for those from whom freedom had been severed, like an anomaly, at birth.The pre-morning sky looked at first like a sack of turnips—filled with something heavy. But with each verst, the sky became lighter. When it was finally light enough to see clearly, we arrived at a knoll at the foot of a stone wall that from a distance had appeared to be a gigantic piece of halva. The exterior ruins of the castle gave no hint of how it was when all was fine here, when people defended themselves successfully from the nomads’ raids. From far off, the wreckage looked like a natural agglomeration of stones—a rocky elevation, no more: a cluster of cliffs. It would rain a few hundred more times, a few hundred more winds from a few hundred directions would blow on this heap, and it would collapse as though nothing had ever been here.A few stalks of wheat grew from one of the rocks. Someone had probably cast a handful of grain here for some birds that forgot to eat it.“Who could this castle belong to?” I asked Skorsky.“I reckon the Swan Princess,” the doctor rejoined, hoping to sound knowledgeable.From behind one of the piles of gray sandstone emerged a young man in a black reptilian coat and a white papakha as lush, bright, and out of place as a dahlia. His name was Artem. The heat was melting our brains, but he was dressed like that, in rooster fashion, which was popular among the otamans. Artem helped Alina dismount her horse and tried to kiss her on the lips, but she offered him a cheek instead.Had she been racing to see this clown?We entered the yard—the ruins had fashioned an internal space that was more or less protected, at least from strangers’ eyes. It turned out that there were even places where it was possible to hide from the rain, and from there the ruins didn't look half bad.In the center of the court was a table, and on it a wooden bucket with pink gladiolas. How romantic! It all looked like it came from outer space. Where on earth, in the middle of the steppe, far from any village or town, did this table, this simple table, come from? And the gladiolas? The steppe hadn't been plowed in so long that any cultivars would have gone wild, degenerated, dried up completely.A campfire crackled nearby—a little preview of what we would soon do to the houses, villages, and cities. Artem the otaman brought over a cezve from the fire and poured the first portion into a small, copper cup for Alina. He also got out a porcelain cup with images of rosy cherubim—but how...?“Who else would like coffee?”Only Skorsky and I responded. The question excited me, even distracted me from the thought of the kiss I had recently witnessed and the Kyiv I had recently left.“It's obvious who the professors here are; cultured people drink coffee. Are you both doctors?”“Uh-huh.”“For wolves of the steppe, like us, doctors are gold, even more precious than gold. Actually, a Hippocrates like you should eat more, because those in your profession will soon be worth your weight in gold. Work on your figures, both of you.”“Who will take pity on the horses that have to carry us?”“We'll find the horses. And very large doctors can be transported on machine-gun carts. We'll need to seat the otamans near you. Only a fool would shoot at a doctor.”“I think we'll find quite enough fools here.”“With your beard, Doctor, you look like Tsar Nicholas II. But even so you won't be shot. You might even be canonized!”“We've only just arrived and you're going on about executions,” Skorsky grumbled and checked to make sure that he still had his bag.“Apologies, apologies, pardonnez-moi. But you are not merely a doctor. A venereologist! Skorsky, you're a specialist! A venereologist is the most important person in wartime. The most valuable! You are the botanists of war. You can't imagine what varieties of flowers grow here, and these beds have long awaited a proper gardener. Or even just a man with a scythe!”“Bite your tongue,” Alina said. “I don't need to listen to this.”“Yes, yes, of course. Excuse me, my r—. ” He almost said “rose.”We rested all day. We went down to a surprisingly close river overgrown with lilies. We rowed the boats left by fishermen. I talked to Skorsky. He took his bag everywhere, refusing even to swim so he wouldn't have to part with it. I asked him what he had in it, but he said it wasn't my damned business.Alina rowed with the otaman to the middle of the river. They were having a loud discussion. She was waving her hands. The current carried their boat downstream slowly and smoothly. What a nuisance, that current!I tried to meet with Alina one-on-one, but she was avoiding me. In the morning I was confused, by lunch I was sad, and after lunch I got angry.In the evening, I lay on the hot grass and drank another cup (I have no idea where they got such good coffee), which had no effect at all on my sleep. I watched the Perseids. Every year, the Earth passes through the tail of Comet Swift-Tuttle. People can see the meteor shower and make a wish. I wished. I counted forty-seven falling stars. All forty-seven of my wishes were for the same thing.Around the campfire, they were sitting, talking. I saw how he tickled her face with a piece of grass and she brushed him off in annoyance. Then they were screaming at each other. Later they again spoke kindly, after which they again quarreled. My joy grew after each tiny mistake that Artem made. I wanted him to show the worst he was capable of.They were screaming at each other, but all I could hear was beautiful opera singing. The stars fell to the sound of their screaming. The stars blessed my joy.Then this happened: Alina kicked the fire, scattered burnt kindling, and burned some of the grass. Artem grabbed her by the arm, but she broke away from him and ran off to the horses.“Go then! I guarantee you'll get to Katerynoslav and return with your tail between your legs.”“I'm going to Huliai-Pole! To Father Makhno!”I jumped up and ran after her.“Where do you think you're going?” Artem shouted.Really—where was I going? I was going after her: to Huliai-Pole, to Katerynoslav, to Rome, to Washington, to Istanbul, to Montevideo... “Go to sleep,” he said. “Come morning, this coquette will be here, right as rain. We've already been through this show. Tomorrow she'll be right here next to my boot!”... No, she won't.In some sort of shape we entered some town. There were some buildings that were some colors, some trees, some streets, some roads, and some signs. Posts, flustered birds’ nests, echoes, colors, shapes—each of some kind. A wedding procession was coming toward us. If you want to make orange, you need to add yellow to red, and then bam—it's black. If you want to salt the soup, shake in a little, and then bam—two handfuls. You want to say a kind word, and then bam—a punch in the face. I was rocked around like a watermelon on a boat and threw up my breakfast straight into the horse's fluffy mane. Sanko found this hilarious, but I said I'd pulverize him. So Sanko sped ahead.No one knew anything about Alina. The daytime sky was like a poorly washed bowl. The sun was a squashed, rotten apricot. The night sky looked like the sole of a boot to me. The moon was a dirty cheap copper coin that had gotten stuck to the sole. Everything seemed spoiled to me, irrelevant, unnecessary. Without her, this journey was a waste of time.“You'd better stay away from everyone,” Artem said. “You'll infect us with your pining, and pining is worse than the clap.”The wedding procession was before us. The young couple, still utter children, walked so calmly it was as if they didn't see us. As if we were made of a light breeze—our bodies, clothes, our horses and their iron shoes—of the lightest gasses. As if we were visible only to ourselves and the coal-black dog that barked, panting and gasping.The wedding was headed straight for us. We were in the middle of the road, and so were they. We approached each other slowly, a wave going toward a wave. Some ten meters before their indifferent faces, I noticed the color of the bride's eyes. And the coral-colored tulips that fell on the road before her. Round goose eggs on meaty stems, the flowers were falling and falling before her. The bride's eyes were almond shaped.“Hey there,” Artem shouted at me. “Wake up!”I came to and saw the whole village, everyone there, not realizing my group had turned left onto a side street away from the procession. The tulips disappeared—where'd they get tulips in the fall? I was sitting alone on my horse in the middle of the road, and the entire wedding procession came to a stop. I moved to the side, and the throng marched on, cutting off our escape route. We rode a few more meters and came across the synagogue.“You know what, you're right,” said the otaman.“Who is?”“Oleksii is the only one here who's right.”“About what?”Artem turned his horse and raced back. Everyone stood still while he ran his horse into the crowd and began firing his revolver. People scattered in all directions. Artem trotted, cackling like an imbecile. The horse kicked an old guy in the mouth. The man fell, spitting out his gold teeth. We rode up to the commotion and formed ranks, but none of us wanted to join the otaman.The bride stopped in the middle of the street. On both sides were buildings and trees, as well as dust, sky, and sun. She stood still, beautiful, as if nothing had happened. Then she adjusted her garland and walked calmly on.“Well, should we get some sugar now?” Artem laughed, looking at the bride, and off he went toward the sugar factory.It was then I noticed that all of the houses had shutters—fuchsia, blue, ocher—and that all the shutters were closed.We flew toward the dirty building, whistling and shouting. If there had been aesthetes among the otamans, they would certainly have razed the abomination in this field after seizing it. They would have spread soil on top and sown buckwheat. Long live buckwheat!, that wonderful crop. Like hunting dogs hot on the trail, we raced to our defenseless victim, with the baying of hundreds of hounds behind us. The field shook beneath us. We became an artist's canvas, evolving from Realism to Romanticism, Romanticism to Expressionism, Expressionism to Suprematism. If we had been painted in black and white, we would have been splotches (until the ink ran, annihilating all remaining patches of white).Two men stood near the gate—unarmed and undressed, in nothing but their undershirts and boots. Our fervor, our kinship with the elements, our entirety, were all for naught.“Jesus Christ! What bores!” Artem exclaimed. “How boring you are!”“Maybe boring for us, but fireworks for them,” Sanko said, dismounting his horse.“The fear of death engenders creativity,” our otaman—a distinguished philosopher of the early twentieth century, that demonic breed—prophesied.He went on, “Excuse me, but with all due respect, we are not going to search you. Just show us right away where the money is. Why are there so few of you? Don't say there's not much money. I want piles and piles of money! If you don't show it to us, we'll print our own on your skin. Believe me, we will.”We entered the factory grounds. There were no workers, only an enormous mountain of sugar beets that looked like a pile of coal from a distance and a pile of dead rats from up close.“So, did you have a good year?” Artem asked a man in an undershirt.“Not really—too dry.”“Nah, that's fine. You wouldn't have been able to gather most of the harvest this year anyway. There's a fire burning across all of Ukraine, all of Russia. The whole world!”While Artem tossed thoughts like well-chewed sunflower seeds into the crowd, the two men quietly stepped aside and then ran fast ahead to the factory's main hall. The gigantic door slammed shut. The gate was locked behind us! The windows were smashed! The factory roared from inside like a cumbersome machine starting up. Bullets whirred through every window.“Bastards! It's a trap! Quick, after me!”Still on horseback, Artem bounded over to a vast window, low to the ground, and smashed it mercilessly. He broke the frame and jumped inside on his horse. I and a few others followed. We broke into their lair, threw open the doors, and let the other warriors inside.Iron vats of hot sugar were steaming, pipes were clattering; machinery groaned.“Parasites!” Artem gritted his teeth. “I'll get you. I'll get you red sons of bitches. Painted whores!”At the word “painted,” his horse fell to the ground. Lying prone, Artem continued fighting, but the red soldiers wouldn't let him stand. Fighting nearby, I rode over to assist but did not know where to aim. Artem got up, ran forward, and brought his sword down on the head of the closest soldier, all the way to the middle of his skull, to the bridge of his nose. It was like butchering a pig. Artem thrust the sword into the buttock of another who was fleeing and cut off his leg at the bend in the knee.“I'll cut off every last one of your asses! Cut off your asses!” Artem bellowed.A half hour later, the dead were lying, the captured sitting, and the victors doing anything they pleased.“Skorsky, are there a lot of casualties?” I asked the doctor, whose hour it was. I hoped not, because I was too tired to help him.“Just a few. The dead are already dead, and the wounded are not ours.”Though Skorsky rarely asked my help, and though I'd become an ordinary soldier, the doctor in me was still present in the most unpleasant attribute—knowledge. Others saw an eviscerated man, pieces of dusty flesh smeared with clay, soil, sand, and straw. I saw a perfectly formed kidney hanging perfectly from the rest of its body like a child's mitten from its coat. You could try this death on for size. Wear it like a sanbenito of the Inquisition.Artem counted the money and then lay on the floor alongside the gigantic sugar mountain in the middle of the room. From time to time, the crystals rustled as they fell.“I didn't think you'd be such a fighter!” the otaman said without turning toward me. “I thought you'd be healing us. You'd keep to the rear and we'd hide you like a girl. But here you are, in the vanguard, like a lion!”“I got excited,” I told him, choosing not to react to the “girl” part.“’Cause Alina said there was no sense counting on you to fight.”“Really?”“Does that sting?”“Why would it? I'm a doctor—not everyone is. It requires a brain. Unlike waving a sword.”“Yeah, yeah. I gave her gladiolas. We were lying in the boat near that castle, doing all manner of things, and she told me all about you. How you met.”“You were lying in that boat talking about me?”“It was the day before you left Kyiv. You agreed to go with the anarchists so quickly!”“Were you surprised? Doctors make fast decisions.”“But you probably had great prospects. Your parents are rich, right?”“And who are your parents?”“Probably all your relatives fled abroad—bourgeois. Why did you stay?”“What the hell's your point?”“Alina, by the way, died a while ago. Probably.”“Don't jinx her.”“Listen here,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “And listen good. If you have designs on her—dead or alive—it's best you castrate yourself now.”“After you.”“If I want to kill somebody, you know, I just do it.”At last he looked at me. I was lying on the floor nearby and looking in his direction, sweaty and relaxed, my appearance complemented by my disdain for his opinion, his authority, his stupid hat. His everything.Artem raised his arm above his head, stuck a finger in the sugar mountain, and licked it. We both got up. Had I anticipated this turn of events, I would have readied a gift for him. Artem held his revolver. Under my hand I found a knife the workers used for gathering beets: it was a deliberately sharpened arc they sank into the swollen brassicas. I jumped up and quickly stepped around the sugar mountain.Artem's bullet hit a pane and broke the glass.“Not man enough for hand-to-hand?”The otaman shot again.“You should've challenged me to a duel, you romantic!”Encrusted with white crystals, I charged Artem from the sugar mountain. We fell in, and the sugar stuck in our hair, mustaches, nostrils, armpits.The gang ran in to get us apart, then backed off because it had nothing to do with them. By now the sugar mountain had burst its banks. Of the once perfect pyramid, a deformed mound remained.Wounded, Artem fell on the sugar mound, turning the white red.I stood before the gang sugar-coated and holding a bloody hook. The old otaman was drawing his last breath. Blood trickled from the corner of Artem's mouth and streamed from the left side of his breast.“What's the commotion?” Old Roman had just come in.“Be quiet,” the boys told him. And a good thing they did.“You killed him? You killed the otaman!”“Shut your mouth,” the boys told him.“You... ”I slugged Roman's stinky herring mouth. How did that son of a bitch find pickled herring in a sugar factory? My fist was now bigger and stronger than ever before, a steel anvil that could split nails and shatter memorial plaques. The unfortunate man's jaw twisted like an upper millstone that had gone off track from the lower.“Let's get out of here and go to Makhno's camp,” I gave my first order.We galloped so fast the grass burned beneath us. The birds and bugs had no time to fly out of the way; hooves trampled the burrows of rodents who didn't dare crawl out of their holes for a long time after. We raced like no one had ever raced before.The steppe, that sly fox, pretended to be an innocent fool. The steppe said, “I'm like Adam: I don't even know my own name.” But its grass harbored the tracks of thousands of armies and the heels of Herodotus, the crunch of Trypillia vessels, and the smell of Scythian hemp, Roman coins, clay figures of wolf people, the chevrons of Denikin's army, glass from the Chekists’ ruby stars, traces of uranium from flying saucers. I threatened it: “Steppe, show me your layers, or I will burn you, plow you under, flood you.” But it just replied: “I'm like Adam: I don't yet know my name.”I lost geography as if it were a silver coin. It fell out of my pocket and rolled through the feather grass that blanketed the steppe in white foam. The open space ahead was so endless that the whole world might as well have been steppe. If people ended up here from somewhere else, they would conclude they were on another planet. The coin fell and became an argentum, became one with the ring on the hand of the princess who had one green eye and one blue, with the twisted candlestick at the monastery on the other side of the steppe, with melted ingots. It broke down into simpler elements, simpler and simpler yet. The horse carried me spreading the seeds of northern plants to the south, just as southern riders had once brought flowers and weeds to the north. And then I turned back. Just as I had no geography, I had no time. Every night I fell asleep with the thought that the next day I would again race. Through all spacelessness, all timelessness. I exchanged one horse for another, got on a train, on a boat, traversed forty versts on foot—in rain that brought the river up to the road, in heat that overturned cattle. The earth I walked on became mine. Mine was the water in the lakes and springs, clean water, dirty water, enlightened water, contaminated with oil, stinking of algae, of fish that died in wells, stinking of the memory of atrocities, water as clean as broken bread. The water did not become Alina.I was doing this for her: I got the basturma out from under my saddle, sodden with the horse's sweat, sliced the throat of a rich man whose daughter I had danced with at a ball, climbed into a vat of beet juice and took a sugar bath, carried out the expropriation of the savings banks, wiped the sweat from my face with my shirt—and the cloth turned red; I didn't know from what. If it was someone else's blood, I didn't care; if it was my own, even less.We mostly came across Reds. We scraped them up like old red paint on a door in order to repaint the boards black. Black looked better. Red is tasteless, but black has style. Healthy men died before us of myocardial rupture like bunnies found in the nest. The ones whose hearts were sewn of steel wire envied the deceased. Seizing estates, banks, distilleries, and prisons reminded us of gathering in the harvest. If you're too lazy to pick an apple, you can shake the tree; some of the fruit gets bruised when it falls. We seized buildings like we were shaking apple trees. No one picked the fruits, we just shook: shook under the beds, under the tables, behind the curtains. No, there was no picking. We just shook until the red juice spurted from the apples.Near the Khorol River with Father Makhno and me in charge, we captured sixteen machine guns and four cannons, as well as five hundred prisoners who immediately came over to our side. The villagers voluntarily gave us bread and cheese, chickens and kvas. People joined us. The front of the machine-gun cart said “You can't run,” and “You won't catch us” at the back. We took factory after factory. Millions of karbovantsi, thousands of poods of sugar, weapons. We smashed the telephone exchanges and captured the telegraphs. We made alliances with some and then with others. Lenin, Wrangel, Frunze, the Germans, Chinese, Australians, Kaiser Wilhelm II, Cleopatra, Maria Theresa Walburga Amalia Christina. We ran the steppe. There were a hundred thousand of us. There were three hundred thousand of them. There were three hundred thousand of us. There were a million of them. There were two million of them. We were all of humanity. We were so many that we were none.The nobles’ estates were long ago forsaken. In the people's deepest trunks lay silks and guipure laces that were once perhaps used only to cover a table. Five steps from the barn in the direction of the pear tree, some silver candlesticks are buried; there's a plaster figure of an angel in the chicken coop, covered with shit and feathers.I was reluctant to be going to my home, but I didn't see any way out. Fate intended me to be a different being from the one I was before.Here my grandfathers and great-grandfathers were born. Here the ones who caused my grandfathers and great-grandfathers to flee had stopped. When we were still far off I noticed that someone was in the house. It was our men—Skorsky had brought them here, about twenty in all. I asked Sanko, whom I had walked with side by side more than once, where the doctor was now. All the men answered that he was around somewhere, but I didn't see him that evening.In 1918, the spirit of my great-grandfather Stepan, along with my mother and uncle, had gotten into a britzka and scrambled off to Paris, to Napoleon, against whom my great-grandfather had fought with the Cossacks, to whom the Russians promised to return self-rule. Following him in the cart went the soul of Grandpa Oleh, who lost a finger when he cut down the old linden near the house; his second finger was blown off by a cannonball near Balaklava, and later his entire hand was cut off by some Turk. Next went the spirit of my father, also Stepan, who did not take part in any war but died of measles at the age of forty. They all got the hell out of here. First, they went to Kyiv, led by my mother, Tamara Makarivna, in order to collect Uncle's family and me, their son. And their son, it turns out, has now come back to rob his own home (I didn't drive my war buddies away, did I?). It's a shame that I didn't know where the bathtub was, or whatever they bathed me in when I was small. It would have been good to walk through the ranks of anarchists with that basin and tell them all to spit into it.Remembering every room, I carried Alina upstairs to my mother's bedchamber. There was no longer furniture or pictures, only bare walls. The bed and mattress remained, but that was enough. Mother hated noise, so she set up her room far away from the running in the halls and the creaks on the stairs. I adjusted the mattress; in a gap, looking like a stalk of wheat, there lay a gold bracelet that she lost in the haste and that the thieves could not find in the mayhem. I tucked it into my pocket.The place could still be saved. It was strong, built under the leadership of my grandfather, who knew how to do it right. He built a sawmill, a gristmill, a dress factory (today it's probably been ransacked, maybe even by our own men).Alina had a complete, displaced break in her right fibula. We needed water first. I went downstairs—the guys were dragging out the piano like an old cow to the slaughter.“What are you doing with that?”“Taking it out.”“Why?”“What's it to you? We want to have fun.”“Can you play?”“We're not your bourgeois lily-handed bitches.”They couldn't play, but they were famous at destruction. “Noise is the music of the new time,” one of the smarter among them might have said. “But noise is the opposite of music. Just as a rose is the opposite of your ugly mugs,” I'd have responded if there was anyone to say it to. I could also have said that this was a Bosendorfer grand piano, that it was very valuable—but do the guys not deserve such a luxury?“Why are you so boring? We're relaxing.”“Then let me play a little first.”“Go ahead, but fast. One-two.”So I played. As before. My fingers ran up and down the black and white keys, which weren't simply keys of these, the simplest, colors. These were the keys that remembered my fingers specifically—achieved by that slovenly German Katerina, our governess. She knew a bundle of languages, could play the piano, and was interested in the latest scientific discoveries. But she had not an ounce of sympathy for anyone who couldn't master anything on the first try. More than once she hit my pinkie against the black key that remembered every one of its four thousand touches. She would pound it on the key and shout, “Si bémol! Si bémol,” and later bang my fingers and translate, “B flach! B flach!”I played. I could not expose myself, so the only thing I could do was believe in miracles. What if these coarse men saw value in this bit of furniture so unintelligible to them? And what if they didn't destroy it, this emblem of my childhood, my land, my air, which I could protect in no other way? My air. My water.“Shchedryk, shchedryk, shchedrivochka,” one of them who recognized the tune began to sing along.“Look at you.” They did not expect music from me, who had until recently been drinking blood like water.They said, “Again, again!”A group of curious men gathered around me. They were ordinary farmers, thieves, and recidivists, peasants and workers, everyone except for Skorsky. They needed this music as they needed baths. The music cleansed them from the inside, perhaps. They had not heard anything besides the whistle of a bullet, the neighing of a horse, or the knocking of a chisel and the whirring of a saw, amputating limbs, for a long time.But it could not go on long. I did not close the piano lid, just stood and went to fetch water for Alina, leaving the unfinished song for later. The well was to the north—that is, at the “Head.” My father once promised to give me a compass if I could learn to identify the ends of the earth by means of the sun. And to make it easier to remember, I gave each one of them a name: the east where the day begins was “Right” (my right hand), the west “Left,” the north “Head,” and the south “Feet.” Back when I could still do whatever I wanted all day long, I would wake in the morning and say: I'm going to the Feet. The mound was at the Feet, Left had the river, Right had the forest. It was only to the Head that I rarely went, because a village was located there. When the villagers saw me, they would speak in whispers and avoid the master's son.... I wiped her brow and her burning, sunken cheeks. I lay down next to her to feel the heat of her skin.When the fire in Alina calmed slightly, I went out into our orchard. My father had once been given a gift from Japan—a tulip tree that blossomed with yellow-green flowers. It had to have grown in the time that I was away. It would have been fatal had it been cut down. I again took the stairs down into the drawing room and came across nobody—they had all disappeared in search of food or were hidden away in their burrows. In the middle of the hall, like an opened rib cage, was the piano, irreparably shattered.B Flach! B Flach!Translation © Ali Kinsella 2022. (shrink)

In 796 the Abbey of St. Martin at Tours acquired a new abbot. The brethren soon began to complain about his habit of attracting unwelcome English tourists. They were said to have cried, “O God, deliver this monastery from these Britishers who come swarming round this countryman of theirs like bees returning to a mother bee.” The abbot was Alcuin: scholar, teacher, and moving spirit behind the Carolingian Renaissance. The words of the brethren are a fitting reminder that Alcuin (...) belonged to two worlds: the world of the Carolingian court and the world from which he had come, the school of York. Alcuin had left York in his mid forties in 781, but York had not left him. He sent correspondence to Northumbria and to other areas of Anglo-Saxon England and returned to England twice, in 786 with the legatine mission and in 790-93. Alcuin's intellectual standing was high and owed much to his influence at the Carolingian court. He was thus a figure to whom the Anglo-Saxon clergy looked for inspiration and example. Although never advancing beyond deacon's orders, he formulated ideals about the role, function, and spiritual authority of bishops in the land he had left. These ideals are found in his poem praising the see of York and its school and in his correspondence. It is the purpose of this article to investigate these ideals. (shrink)

The article deals with the analysis of Kyiv-Mohyla conceptions of intellectual cognition in the context of the European scholastic tradition. There were analysed Traktat o duszy [The Treatise on Mind] by Kasian Sakovych, and handwritten philosophical courses by Inokentiy Gizel, Theophan Prokopvych and Georgiy Konyskyi.The article shows that Sakovych, Gizel and Prokopovych supported a typical scholastic di-vision of intellectual powers into the active and passive intellect, although Prokopovych expressed doubts about the necessity of this division. Unlike them, Konysky in (...) 1749-51 totally denied the division of the intellect. The article argues that Prokopovych’s and Konyskyi’s change in the interpretation of intellectual powers was influenced by modern philosophy, mainly by Cartesianism. In general, the views of Mohylian authors on the problem of intellectual cognition are marked by some eclecticism, combining elements of different scho-lastic schools. They followed Francisco Suarez and Scotists defining creative power of the possible intellect and the formal difference between two kinds of intellectual powers. However, they, especially Inokenitiy Gizel, went by Thomistic interpretation of verbum mentis. At the same time, the professors of Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, like other scholastic philosophers, recog-nised the necessary connection between cognitive powers of different levels. In their view, cognitive powers belong to the human being as a complex substantial system. The article proves that Kyiv-Mohyla concepts of intellectual cognition express a range of clearly modern ideas; nevertheless, they are also oriented to the ideas that modern philosophy denied. (shrink)

On the tenets of the four main schools of Tibetan Buddhism on based on two texts: "Lta baʼi gsung mgur zab mo" by Lcang-skya II Rol-paʼi-rdo-rje, 1717-1786, and "Lta khrid dran pa bzhi ldan" by Dalai lama VII; teachings delivered by the Dalai Lama on December 19-21, 2006 at Varanasi and at Ser-bye monastery on January 9-10, 2007 respectively.

The bare bones of the story of Bodhidharma, that strange, bearded, wide-eyed fellow who brought the meditation school of Buddhism that we know as Zen to China, are well known. He sailed from India to Canton and then proceeded to the court of Emperor Wu of the Liang Dynasty, who asked the Patriarch how much merit he had accumulated from sponsoring the building of temples, the copying of Buddhist scriptures, and the ordination of monks. When Bodhidharma replied, "None," the (...) emperor didn't understand, so Bodhidharma went north, crossed the Yangtse River on a reed, and spent nine years gazing at a wall at Shao-lin Monastery. (shrink)

The only indicators of religious life that are currently fixed by state authorities are existing religious organizations. The official statistics of the religious network, submitted by the State Committee on Nationalities and Religions in early 2008, recorded the presence of 33841 religious organizations in Ukraine in more than one hundred different religious movements, churches and communities. This figure includes 32,493 religious communities, 421 monasteries, 192 religious schools with 18,375 students, 333 missions, and 74 fraternities. The confessions print 383 newspapers and (...) magazines. Considering that the law does not define the obligation to register religious organizations and some of them use it without deliberately going for registration, and that some are officially due to some motives of non-fixed religious movements, and therefore their organizations, then official statistics of the public authority are clearly incomplete. However, even the existing evidence of a kind of religious renaissance in the country. For comparison, in the communist years in Ukraine there were officially recognized only 9 religious movements, which had about 4,5 thousand religious organizations. There were 14 monasteries, one Orthodox seminary in Odessa, and the Orthodox Herald magazine. (shrink)

Ukraine is a multi-confessional state, where, as of January 1, 2000, 23 543 religious community organizations, monasteries, missions, fraternities, educational establishments belonging to 90 denominations, branches, churches are officially registered.. In their property or use, there are over 16 637 religious buildings. Confessions have opened 250 convents, 184 missions, 49 brotherhoods, 121 religious schools, 7,165 Sunday schools and catechesis offices, and 194 periodicals. Religious needs of believers are satisfied by 21 281 priests, of whom 650 are foreigners.

In 1998, Ukraine continued to characterize complex processes in the field of religious life, interdenominational and inter-church relations. On January 1, 1999, there were 21,018 registered religious organizations, 825 communities declared their existence. Among these community organizations - 2,934, monasteries - 232 with 4609 monks, religious schools - 94 with 13078 listeners, missions - 144, fraternities - 35. Religious organizations had 19312 servicemen, 6,400 Sunday schools, 173 periodicals. The official list includes 76 religious movements. If we consider the presence of (...) four Muslim associations and three Jews, we can talk about the activities of 81 organized religious organizations. (shrink)

In November of 1997, a letter from my professor AM came to my name. Hoodies from Ternopil Medical Academy named after. V.Ya. Gorbachevsky The letter mentioned that Arsen Richinsky was born in Kremenets'kyi, therefore the Department of Religious Studies at the Institute of Philosophy named after GS Pots of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine want to hold a scientific conference, whose participants should be taken immediately. [Mazur P., The immortalism of Arsen Rychinsky's memory on his native land // (...) Arsen Rychinsky - prominent Ukrainian public figure and scholar and religious scholar. Science collection. - Kyiv-Kremenets, 2007. - P. 27-32]. Motivating that the conference should be carefully prepared, we agreed with scientists of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine to hold the first Rychinsky readings on the basis of the school in the spring of 1998. (shrink)

The paper deals with the tales on the origins of Japanese Buddhism from the 11th scroll of the Konjaku monogatari shū. Particular attention is paid to the stories about Saichō and Kūkai, the founders of the Tendai and Shingon schools, thinkers, whose writings have built two versions of the doctrine of the Buddhist ritual aimed at “state protection” and “benefits in this world.” From the elements familiar to the Western reader – “lives, opinions and sayings,” according to Laertius, – in (...) these stories the first one dominates. Brief information about the doctrines of the famous teachers in Konjaku is embedded in the narrative about their practical activities. The objectives of this activity are, firstly, to adopt in China and root in Japan the Chinese traditions of Buddhist practice, which go back to the Indian models; secondly, to arrange monasteries and monastic orders best suited to serve the country and its inhabitants. The legends about Saichō and Kūkai in Konjaku are placed in context of the narratives about the builders of temples and about the monks who visited the mainland in search of Buddha’s Teaching. This context helps to understand the principle of selecting biographical details for each of the sages in Konjaku. The themes of a wonderful birth and early learning successes are common in these stories; the theme of appeasement of kami deities or the treaty with them also sounds in many of these stories. In the legends about Kukai and Saichō, the themes of the arts in its Buddhist meaning and the separation of the school within the Buddhist community are also important: according to the plan of their founders, the “secret” schools, preaching enlightenment for all, follow their own special path of practice. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Adolph Meyer’s Psychobiology in Historical Context, and Its Relationship to George Engel’s Biopsychosocial ModelEdwin R. Wallace IV (bio)Keywordspsychobiology, integrative models of psychiatry, biopsychosocial modelBefore addressing the importance of Adolf Meyer and the question of his impact on the biopsychosocial model of the psychoanalytical internist George Engel, let us tersely sketch the history of functionalism in medicine/psychiatry, and of the nineteenth/early twentieth century’s progressive abandonment of it in favor of (...) basic science reductive models of “disease,” not illness.FunctionalismWhereas Hippocratic physicians diagnosed diatheses in terms of humoral excesses or deficiencies, their primary emphasis was on the ill person. They began with careful histories of the patient’s complaints and his or her daily life course, customary activities, typical foods and beverages imbibed, and the exacerbation or relief of symptoms associated with any or all of these. They also asked questions about his physical and social environment. They carefully looked for any clinically pertinent signs, and might physically examine the patient or his excretions. When they arrived at a diagnosis (say, an excess of yellow or black bile, or of blood or phlegm), they would educate the patient about it and discuss possible approaches. Although leeching, emetics, or purgatives might be prescribed, “dietetics” was the core of the treatment. Much more than recommendations about dietary intake, this involved conversations about “lifestyle” management in general: exercise, fresh air, habit changes, and perhaps bathing in mineral waters or spas. If the patient were “melancholic” (which then included what we would now consider a variety of psychiatric disorders), he or she might be prescribed daily swimming and other forms of vigorous exercise, conversations with a philosopher, [End Page 347] attendance at theatrical comedies, or even referral to an Asklepian temple for “incubation sleep” and priestly dream interpretation. Often doctors worked closely with physical trainers, to whom they sent their patients. In short, their orientation was holistic (“mind”/”body” integration), directed first and foremost toward an individual ill person.In the second century, C.E. Galen, despite his humoral and anatomical pathologies, was similarly holistic or functionalist. He resorted to a variety of physical examinational methods while also attending to the patient’s mental/emotional status. He described one case where he was attending a woman for syncopal episodes. His examinations of her included his customary attention to the pulse. During one evening session, a servant entered and happened to mention that he had just seen the handsome Pylades dancing. Suddenly her pulse became irregular and she fainted straight away. This led Galen to consider love sickness, and perhaps not humoral or organ pathology. He tested his hypothesis during subsequent visits. Whenever another dancer or actor was mentioned, her pulse remained regular and her sensorium alert, but when Pylades was mentioned the irregular pulse and fainting recurred. Because she was married, Galen realized her insoluble conflict, and treated her accordingly.From the fall of Rome until the rise of University Medicine in the later Middle Ages, medical lore and doctoring was in monastic hands—each monastery had its clerical medic, who might also attend outsiders. They were attuned to the traditional triad of major mental disorders—mania, melancholia, and phrenitis—which they explained somatically. However, they also encountered lesser mental/emotional disorders for which they developed their own nosology. “Scrupulosity,” for example, characterized a committed monk with an unrealistic sense of sinfulness and guilt—which often drove him to self-mortification such as flagellation, hair shirts with chains underneath, and so forth, for which the remedy was kindly pastoral counseling. “Accedia” was akin to our “dysthymia,” whose sufferer was affected by sadness, lassitude, and impaired capacity to carry out the monastic routine. This was viewed as straddling the boundary between sickness and sin. Routine physical labor (“occupational therapy”) and prayers, confession, penance, and “pep talks” were prescribed.When universities with medical schools arose in the latter Middle Ages, students’ educations were mostly bookish and theoretical. Hippocratic and Galenic somatic orientations were still preeminent. (Vesalius would not publish his illustrated anatomical text until 1543.) Dietetics and purgatives, bloodletting, and so on were still favored treatments. Nevertheless, doctors gave considerable time and attention to their patients as ill... (shrink)

In the thirteenth century, the University of Paris emerged as a complex community with a distinctive role in society. This book explores the relationship between contexts of learning and the ways of knowing developed within them, focusing on twelfth-century schools and monasteries, as well as the university. By investigating their views on money, marriage and sex, Ian Wei reveals the complexity of what theologians had to say about the world around them. He analyses the theologians' sense of responsibility to the (...) rest of society and the means by which they tried to communicate and assert their authority. In the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, however, their claims to authority were challenged by learned and intellectually sophisticated women and men who were active outside as well as inside the university and who used the vernacular - an important phenomenon in the development of the intellectual culture of medieval Europe. (shrink)

The opposition of science and religion is a recent phenomenon; in the middle ages, and indeed until the middle of the nineteenth century, there was almost no conflict. In the Middle Ages the objective study of nature - the activity we now call science - was largely the province of religious men. This book looks at the origins of western science and the central role played by the Dominican and Franciscan friars. It explains why these two groups devoted so much (...) intellectual effort to the study of physical and biological phenomena, and distinguishes ’Natural Philosophy’ from ’science’ as presently understood. Though the friars were recognisably ’scientific’ in their approach their motives were religious - they wished to understand the mind of God and the beauty of God’s nature. Even so, as this study makes clear, the roots of western science lie in the monasteries and refuges of the medieval friars - the direct forebears of the anti-scientific Popes of the age of Copernicus and Galileo. Contents: Introduction 1. Philosophy and true philosophy 2. Town air 3. Sapienta and scientia: the cloister and the school 4. nature and the twelfth century 5. Heresy and Dominic 6. The evil and good world 7. Conquest and re-education 8. Dominican re-education 9. Fiat lux! Let there be light! 10. Et facta est lux! And there was light 11. Epilogue. (shrink)

In the ancient chronicles we find interesting testimonies of the Cyril Monastery and the activities of prominent figures related to the history of this monastery. But notorious for Kyiv in 1240, this story ends in three long, hard ages. Among the experts do not abandon discussions on the most fundamental problems of this section of Ukrainian history. He seems to have fallen out of public memory: in the minds of our contemporaries, between Batu's invasion and Khmelnychchina, as (...) a rule, there is a clear emptiness, although events occurring in this period lacked neither drama, nor historical greatness. (shrink)

In 1996, the number of religious communities, united in about 70 denominations and religious areas, continued to grow and at the beginning of 1997 reached 18482. Their property or There are 11897 religious buildings. There are currently 172 monasteries in obedience to 3892 monks and nuns, 26 brotherhoods, 104 missions, 68 religious schools, 5032 Sunday schools and catechesis centers, 122 spiritual p periodicals, many of which, unfortunately, for one reason or another, only come out a few numbers a year. The (...) religious needs of believers are satisfied with 16,429 priests, of whom 507 are foreigners, and we will consider these data in a confessional way. (shrink)

Koreans originally received Buddhism from their Chinese predecessors in a scripturally oriented context, and the Buddhism of the latter part of the Three Kingdoms period up through the Unified Silla 1 was wholly contained within scholarly sects. Not only were the scholarly schools the sole articulators of Buddhist soterics and philosophy—they administered all of the monasteries, and became deeply involved on an institutional level with the Silla government. These doctrinal schools functioned in this capacity for several centuries, without so much (...) as a hint of a question of their religious or political authority. (shrink)

This chapter explores the kind of community founded by Pythagoras. It considers those types of association which actually existed in Greece in the Archaic and Classical periods. If the Pythagorean community was really a religious association, it should conform to the type of religious association of its time, and not to that of the Qumran community or a Christian monastery. To describe the nature of the society founded by Pythagoras, we may choose from a very small number of variants (...) available for that period: a philosophical school, like those which appeared in the fourth century; a cultic community ; and a sociopolitical association. The chapter shows, first, that none of the features of a religious community is confirmed by reliable evidence. Second, that to apply to the Pythagoreans the term ‘sect’, as developed in the sociology of religion, is methodologically unsound. Third, that the tradition on Pythagorean ‘symbols’, reflected in Anaximander the Younger and Aristotle, mostly bears no relation to the realities of the Pythagorean way of life, while the picture which arose on the basis of that tradition, of acusmatici and mathematici dates from the Imperial period. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Ch'an/Zen-Catholic Dialogue Spreads a "Welcome Table" at the 2009 Annual MeetingFrancis V. TisoA retreat program designed by the participants in the ongoing Ch'an/Zen-Catholic Dialogue explored the dialogue of religious experience and the dialogue of life, set amid the redwoods of Guerneville, California. The 28–31 January 2009 meeting was cochaired by the Rev. Heng Sure of the Berkeley Buddhist Monastery and the Institute for World Religions, Berkeley, California, and (...) by Most Rev. John C. Wester, Bishop of Salt Lake City, Utah.Sr. Mary Ann Donovan of the Jesuit School of Theology, Berkeley, led an experience of lectio divina based on John 15:1–17, Jesus's simile of the vine and the branches. Rev. Victoria Austin of the San Francisco Zen Center gave an "encouragement talk," which would typically be delivered to Zen retreatants. She referred to the Gospel passage, noting: "We don't prune the vine because it is dead, but because it has the capacity to be fruitful. We don't purify the mind to get rid of dirt, but to return to the mind's original purity, which is the source of our conscience and is the true life within us." Rev. Jan Chosen Bays of Great Vow Zen Monastery in Oregon observed that "Vows make our life energy more focused, keeping us from losing purpose and meaning. Vows prune away unnecessary things. When we ask for help with the challenge of being faithful to our vows, we call up and encounter unexpected sources of support and 'grace.' "The Ch'an Buddhist presentation focused on meditation experience, which was described as "recovering the natural state of the mind." Prof. Martin Verhoeven of the Pacific School of Religion pointed out that in meditation "we are returning to the origin, not moving forward to 'gain something.'" Linking ethical engagement with contemplation, he said, "When the mind of a meditator is motivated to act out of genuine compassion, its action is accurate and correct. Action is neither driven nor obstructed by ego or sentiment." These comments resonated with Rev. Heng Sure's presentation on the statement on the environment from the recent Gethsemane III conference "Simple and Sufficient," in which Buddhist and Christian monastics embraced an ecologically valid way of life. Urging the group to notice the connections between contemplation and ethical action, Bishop John C. Wester commented: "This [End Page 145] work embodies mercy by lifting people up; it embodies justice as it arises out of our common humanity."Because of the financial challenges that all three sponsoring institutions are facing, it was decided to conclude formal sponsorship of the Ch'an/Zen-Catholic Dialogue with this meeting. However, participants agreed to work together to reconstitute the dialogue regionally. A steering committee was designated to undertake new logistical arrangements and to draft a narrative of the previous seven years of dialogue for posting on our respective websites. Bishop Wester summarized the convictions of participants, both Buddhist and Catholic, by observing: "It is impossible not to be affected by this experience. Dialogue in this atmosphere has had an impact on my own way of ministering to others. I feel that my faith, sensitivity, compassion, and reverence have been enhanced by participating in these meetings."Participants in the 2009 dialogue meeting included Rev. Heng Sure, Berkeley Buddhist Monastery; Bishop John C. Wester, Salt Lake City; Dr. Snjezana Akpinar, Dharma Realm Buddhist University; Rev. Gigen Victoria Austin, San Francisco Zen Center; Rev. Jan Chozen Bays, Great Vow Zen Monastery; Sr. Phyllis D'Anna, SND, Zen Center, Palo Alto; Sr. Mary Ann Donovan, SC, Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; Dr. Ron Epstein, Dharma Realm Buddhist Association; Mrs. Lorraine Moriarty, Society of St. Vincent De Paul; Bhikshuni Heng Jiao, City of 10,000 Buddhas; Bhikshuni Heng Liang, City of 10,000 Buddhas; Rev. Canon Francis Tiso, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops; Rev. James Massa, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops; Rev. Thomas W. Devereaux, Diocese of Santa Rosa ecumenical and interreligious officer; Dr. Martin Verhoeven, Pacific School of Religion; and Ron Brown, observer (Cloverdale, California). [End Page 146]Francis V. TisoUnited States Conference of Catholic BishopsCopyright © 2009 University of Hawai'i Press... (shrink)

In 1654 Zen Master Yinyuan traveled from China to Japan. Seven years later his monastery, Manpukuji, was built and he had founded his own tradition called Obaku. The sequel to Jiang Wu's 2008 book Enlightenment in Dispute: The Reinvention of Chan Buddhism in Seventeenth-Century China, Leaving for the Rising Sun tells the story of the tremendous obstacles Yinyuan faced, drawing parallels between his experiences and the broader political and cultural context in which he lived. Yinyuan claimed to have inherited (...) the "Authentic Transmission of the Linji Sect" and, after arriving in Japan, was able to persuade the Shogun to build a new Ming-style monastery for the establishment of his Obaku school. His arrival in Japan coincided with a series of historical developments including the Ming-Qing transition, the consolidation of early Tokugawa power, the growth of Nagasaki trade, and rising Japanese interest in Chinese learning and artistic pursuits. While Yinyuan's travel has been noted, the significance of his journey within East Asian history has not yet been fully explored. Jiang Wu's thorough study of Yinyuan provides a unique opportunity to reexamine the crisis in the continent and responses from other parts of East Asia. Using Yinyuan's story to bridge China and Japan, Wu demonstrates that the monk's significance is far greater than the temporary success of a religious sect. Rather, Yinyuan imported to Japan a new discourse of authenticity that gave rise to indigenous movements that challenged a China-centered world order. Such indigenous movements, however, although appearing independent from Chinese influence, in fact largely relied on redefining the traditional Chinese discourse of authenticity. Chinese monks such as Yinyuan, though situated at the edge of the political and social arenas, actively participated in the formation of a new discourse on authenticity, which eventually led to the breakup of a China-centered world order. (shrink)

Considering the period of the fund's activities, namely the end of the 18th and the beginning of the 20th century, one should pay attention to the state of education of Bukovina before the foundation, in particular, in the pre-Austrian period. The situation with education here was not the best, but on the contrary - she was in an abandoned state. At that time the church was engaged in school, and therefore the focus was on religious education. The first schools (...) in the country were founded at the Putna monastery and in the region of Suceava and Radovtsy. If the boyars wanted to give their sons a higher education, they were forced to send them to Ukrainian schools in Lviv or Kiev, and whether in the capital of Western European countries - Vienna or Paris. It follows that the majority of the population, which remained outside the spiritual state or origin not from the boyars, remained illiterate, but in decades and was completely ignorant. This situation with education in the region was until the annexation of Bukovina by the Austrian Empire in 1774. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Sound of Two Hands Clapping: The Education of a Tibetan Buddhist MonkChristian P. B. HaskettThe Sound of Two Hands Clapping: The Education of a Tibetan Buddhist Monk. By Georges B. J. Dreyfus. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003. 445 + xv pp.Georges Dreyfus is a uniquely valuable contributor to the academic study of Tibetan Buddhism. He is the first Westerner to have received the Geshe degree, signifying (...) a thorough mastery of the curriculum of the Geluk (dge lugs) school, and in his latest work, The Sound of Two Hands Clapping, he not only displays the critical acumen produced by that education, but also candidly reveals the personal details of life as a monk in a Buddhist monastic university. This alone should commend this project to the attention of readers seriously interested in Buddhism; however, Dreyfus also gives us a work of scholarship of religion that is exemplary in its capacity to use a single topic as a starting point to explain vast swathes of religion and culture. A brief overview of the chapters precedes my assessment of the book's successes and its importance for Buddhist-Christian studies.The first chapter gives a brief historical overview of Tibetan Buddhism. Those with a passing acquaintance with Tibetan history will find little new information here, but Dreyfus does manage to succinctly and accurately present 1300 years of religious history in a mere fifteen pages. Chapter 2, "Tibetan Monasticism," takes up the context in which most Buddhist scholastic activity occurs, "describing...some of its characteristics and discussing its strengths without hiding its drawbacks" (p.33). Dreyfus moves from a depiction of the Indian precedents and textual foundations of monasticism in general to a discussion of the mass monastic movement in Tibet. His assessment is unsparing but nonjudgmental as he describes monks as tax collectors, ritual actors, priests, and even "punk-monks." In the third chapter "Becoming a Monk," the personal and autobiographical nature of Two Hands Clapping begins to emerge as Dreyfus relates his own personal experience of entering [End Page 192] monastic life interwoven with accounts of both the normative Tibetan standards and the present-day situation of Tibetan monastics. These vivid reports detail the sleep deprivation, poor diet, and rigorous lives of exiled monks, and the genuine affection that those who endure these circumstances feel for one another. This chapter also examines the differing roles of teachers as housemasters, scholastic preceptors, and gurus, and begins introducing several teachers with whom Dreyfus studied. These three chapters comprise the first section, "The Context."Despite the title and cover picture of a debating monk, this book is a study of the full range of scholastic monastic practices. Dreyfus begins his far-ranging comparisons to other religious educational traditions such as yeshivas and medieval European monasticism in the second section, "Tibetan Scholastic Practices." Chapter 4 looks at reading and memorization, considering literacy and education in Tibet first. His discussion of memorization comprises details of memorization practices and a good but not overwhelming discussion of modern psychological theory on memorization and mind. Chapter 5 presents the curriculum followed by Tibetan monks and identifies a key element of scholasticism: commentary. The section on comparative perspective is particularly good, comparing Shi'ite, Christian, and Tibetan models and citing theorists including Foucault and Halbertal to elucidate how commentary is used to create sectarian positions out of shared canonical texts. While the sixth chapter begins by comparing curricula and practices followed by both Ge-luk and non-Ge-luk monasteries, it concludes with a detailed section on the role of scholasticism in the production of authority and orthodox, accounting for the emergence of sectarian divisions within Tibetan Buddhism within a sociopolitical context. This return to the history provided in chapter 1 explains the history of sectarian divisions in Tibet and demonstrates both the centrality and scope of the impact of scholasticism in Tibetan religion. In chapter 7, "Scholasticism and Orality," Dreyfus gives the sort of detailed and nuanced testimony that only a long and careful observer of and participant in Buddhism could. He carefully dissects the role of orality in memorization and recitation on the one hand, and of oral commentary in pedagogy on the... (shrink)

This paper traces back the sources of our present legal system and of market economy to Medieval Europe which itself benefited from Hellenistic and Roman legal culture and commercial practices. Roman provinces placed Rome in the wider Greek cultural and commercial world. If Aristotle was already transcending the narrow polis-based conceptions of his predecessors, after him Hellenistic Civilization saw the emergence of a new school of philosophy: Stoicism. The legal thought in the Latin West will hence be characterized by (...) Cicero’s writings and its Stoic sources. The Roman legal system was similar to the later northern European customary law and the English common law; Roman law was evolutionary and customary. The rise of Western individualism, whether it dates back to St. Augustine in the fifth century, or to the two Papal Revolutions of Gregory I (establishing the nuclear family as the core of individualism) and of Gregory VII, also played a crucial role in shaping the western legal tradition. The paper describes the main forces that led to this second (Gregorian) revolution. Monasticism is one of them. Benedictine monasticism plaid a leading role in the Peace of God Movement. Hence collective oath-taking by groups in the name of peace was essential in the founding of cities and in the formation of guilds. Europe’s economic resurgence in the Eleventh Century was on the basis of the creation of the rule of law by the Peace of God movement. This movement also allowed for Europe’s agricultural economy to progress. Indeed, the European Middle Ages is one of the major periods of technological innovation in the history of the world. The Gregorian Revolution itself was supported and financed by the Commercial Revolution: Italian bankers sustained Papal reformers against the Emperors. The independence of the Italian cities and provinces reveals one of the most important consequences of the Gregorian Revolution: the polycentricism of Western Europe. This Revolution also witnessed the first large number of political pamphlets in European history; the Gregorian clergy emphasizing a compact theory of government. Soon after, the order of Cistercians was founded (1098) and underwent spectacular growth during the next two centuries. The Cistercians accepted no rents or labor services from feudal donors but would take only full possession of land to do with it as they wished.These monasteries were the most economically effective units that had ever existed in Europe, and perhaps in the world, before that time. Finally, the Magna Carta (1215) that will be so influential on modern political thought can be seen as a direct consequence of the Gregorian Revolution. (shrink)

English description: Red mda' ba gZhon nu blo gros (1348-1412) played a pivotal role in the history of Tibetan Buddhists' engagement with Indian Madhyamaka, especially with regard to Candrakirti's interpretation of Nagarjuna. The lasting impact of this historical figure on the shape of Buddhist philosophy in Tibet - and particularly that of Madhyamaka - has been highly underestimated to date. Red mda' ba was an important teacher of scholastic Buddhist philosophy to the three main founders of Tibetan dGe lugs tradition. (...) On the basis of this biography, Red mda' ba's contribution to the spiritual culture of Buddhism at his time can now be analyzed. It elucidates his influence in upgrading philosophical studies and dialectics, and expanding scholastic education in the monasteries, as well as his contribution to Tsong kha pa's foundation of the dGe lugs pa school, the lineage to which the Dalai Lamas belong. This work therefore aims to present the first detailed exposition of this crucial figure of Tibetan culture. The thesis presents a critical edition and English translation of the biography of Red mda' ba. German description: Red mda' ba gZhon nu blo gros (1348-1412) spielte eine entscheidende Rolle in der Geschichte der Beschaftigung tibetischer Buddhisten mit der indischen Madhyamaka Philosophie, insbesondere hinsichtlich Candrakirtis Auslegung von Nagarjuna. Der nachhaltige Einfluss dieser historischen Figur auf die Form der buddhistischen Philosophie in Tibet - vor allem die des Madhyamaka - wurde bislang wesentlich unterschatzt. Red mda' ba war ein wichtiger Lehrer fur scholastische Buddhismus-Philosophie der drei Grundergestalten der tibetischen dGe lugs-Tradition. Auf der Grundlage dieser Biografie kann nun Red mda' bas Beitrag zur geistigen Kultur des Buddhismus seiner Zeit untersucht werden. Sie zeigt beispielsweise, wie Red mda' ba den Ausbau der philosophischen Studien und der Dialektik beeinflusste, die scholastische Ausbildung in den Klostern erweiterte und massgeblich an Tsong kha pas Grundung der dGe lugs pa-Schule mitwirkte, einer Richtung, der auch die Dalai Lamas angehoren. Daher ist es Ziel dieser Arbeit, eine erste umfassende Darstellung des Lebenswerkes und Vermachtnisses dieser Schlusselfigur tibetischer Kultur und Geistesgeschichte zu geben. Sie umfasst die kritische Edition und die englische Ubersetzung der Biografie von Red mda' ba. (shrink)

Theology was one of the original faculties of the medieval university, which grew out of the earlier monastic and cathedral schools, where theology was central. The purpose of theology in monastic education was to provide not simply information about theological topics, but to prepare one to contemplate God, contemplation being the true knowledge of God. Contemplation as the goal of intellectual development, however, goes behind the Christian education of monastery and university to the intellectual and cultural ideals of classical (...) civilisation, as seen in Plato and Aristotle. A contrast is drawn between contemplation, for which the object of knowledge is an end in itself, and the way in which knowledge has come to be seen as essentially instrumental, ultimately as an object of consumption, so that the one who knows becomes consumer rather than contemplator. Some of the consequences of this shift in understanding, which undermines the traditional ideals of culture, are explored. (shrink)

Book reviewed in this article: The Philosophical Assessment of Theology: Essays in Honour of Frederick C. Copleston. Edited by Gerard J. Hughes. Language, Meaning and God: Essays in Honour of Herbert McCabe OP. Edited by Brian Davies. God Matters. By Herbert McCabe. Philosophies of History: A Critical Essay. By Rolf Gruner. The ‘Phaedo’: A Platonic Labyrinth. By Ronna Burger. Lessing's ‘Ugly Ditch’: A Study of Theology and History. By Gordon E. Michalson, Jr. Peirce. By Christopher Hookway. Frege: Tradition and Influence. (...) Edited by Crispin Wright. The Private World. Selections from the Diario Íntimo and Selected Letters 1890–1936. By Miguel de Unamuno, translated by Anthony Kerrigan, Allen Lacy, Martin Nozick. A Third Collection: Papers by Bernard J.F. Lonergan, S.J. Edited by Frederick E. Crowe. Philosophical Papers. By Charles Taylor. 2 vols. Principles of Language and the Mind. By T.P. Waldron. The Principle of Double Effect: A Critical Appraisal of its Traditional Understanding and its Modern Reinterpretation. By L.I. Ugorji. Human Rights: Fact or Fancy By Henry B. Veatch. Enlightenment and Alienation: An Essay towards a Trinitarian Theology. By Colin Gunton. Only Human. By Don Cupitt. The Roots of the Modern Christian Tradition. Edited by E. Rpzanne Elder. ‘Africanische Theologie’: Darstellung und Dialog.. By Heribert Rücker. African Religions in Western Conceptual Schemes. By Emefie Ikenga Metuh. The Destiny of Man: Dagaare Beliefs in Dialogue with Christian Eschatology. By Edward Kuukure. The World in Between: Christian Healing and the Struggle for Spiritual Survival. By E. Milingo. Theology in Africa. By Kwesi A. Dickson. The Future of Anglican Theology. Edited by M. Darrol Bryant. Reconciling. By John Coventry. The Genesis of Faith: The Depth Theology of Abraham Joshua Heschel. By John C. Merkle. Anthropology in Theological Perspective. By Wolfhart Pannenberg. Contemporary Approaches to the Study of Religion. Volume II: The Social Sciences. Edited by Frank Whaling. American Sociology: Worldly Rejections of Religion and Their Directions. By Arthur J. Vidich and Stanford M. Lyman. A Critical Theory of Religion: The Frankfurt School. By Rudolf J. Siebert. The Anthropology of Evil. Edited by David Parkin. The Wealth of Christians. By Redmond Mullin. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. By Michael Fishbane. Reading the Old Testament: An Introduction. By Lawrence Boadt. Old Testament Theology: Its History and Development. By John H. Hayes and Frederick C. Prussner. God's Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea: Echoes of a Canaanite Myth in the Old Testament. By John Day. Law and Wisdom from Ben Sira to Paul. By Eckhard J. Schnabel. The Order of the Synoptics: Why Three Synoptic Gospels? By Bernard Orchard and Harold Riley. The Making of Mark. By J. Duncan M. Derrett. Argumentation bei Paulus. By Folker Siegert. Christians and the Military: The Early Experience. Edited by Robert J. Daly. Origienes' Eucharistielehre im Streit der Konfessionen; Die Auslegungsgeschichte seit der Reformation. By Lothar Lies. L'église de Cappadoce au IVe siècle d'après la correspondance de Basile de Césarée. By Benpit Gain Cave Monasteries of Byzantine Cappadocia. By Lyn Rodley. Augustine of Hippo, Selected Writings. Translated with an Introduction by Mary T. Clark. Wisdom from St Augustine. By Vernon J. Bourke. A History of Religious Ideas, Vol. 3: From Muhammad to the Age of Reforms. By Mircea Eliade. Les Lectionnaires Copies Annuels: Basse‐Egypte. By Ugo Zanetti. Humanism and Scholasticism in Late Medieval Germany. By James H. Overfield. Wyclif. By Anthony Kenny. The Lady and the Virgin: Image, Attitude and Experience in Twelfth Century France. By Penny Shine Gold. Unquiet Souls: Fourteenth‐Century Saints and Their Religious Milieu. By Richard Kieckhefer. Luther: Theologian for Catholics and Protestants. Edited by George Yule. La Réforme Catholique: Le Combat de Maldonat. By Paul Schmitt. Roman Catholicism in England: From the Elizabethan Settlement to the Second Vatican Council. By Edward Norman. The Life of David Brainerd. Edited by Norman Pettit. Nineteenth Century Religious Thought in the West. Edited by Ninian Smart, John Clayton, Patrick Sherry and Steven T. Katz The Significance of Jesus Christ in Asia. By Hans Staffner. Is the Virgin Mary Appearing at Medjugorje? By René Laurentin and Ljudevit Rupčić. Mary Queen of Peace: Is the Mother of God Appearing in Medjugorje? By Lucy Rooney and Robert Fancy. (shrink)

All specialists who question the diverse components of the medieval universe stress that the ecclesiastical institution occupied a choice place within the sociocultural structure of that world. This is true because of the solidity of its implantation in the century and particularly because of the efficacity of its doctrinal function. In the cultural domain, the production and transmission of knowledge (in addition to the practice of indoctrination that it supposes), the Church was completely sovereign. The ecclesiastical institutions (from simple parish (...) churches to cathedrals and episcopal sees, as well as convents and monasteries) were responsible for the foundation and rise of medieval schools, universities, the centers where books were produced—or more precisely, manuscripts—and the organization of libraries. (shrink)

Theology as generated in the Chapter Schools and the Universities was characterized by the increasing use of grammar and logic. As a reaction, the monastic world, which sought to place more emphasis on the expression of personal experience and emotion, came to develop a theology all of its own. This process was to continue far into the 13th century. Scholastics, during the period of their formation in the monastery, came to be acquainted with this form of monastic theology. The (...) attempts by the Austin Friar Giles of Rome , to integrate both scholastic reasoning and monastic inspiration within his own theology, appear then all the more surprising. (shrink)

This article examines one highly localized set of developments to the Buddhist doctrine of word meaning that was made by twelfth and thirteenth century Tibetan Buddhist epistemologists primarily schooled at gSaṅ phu Monastery in central Tibet. I will show how these thinkers developed the notion of a concept (don spyi) in order to explain how it is that words are capable of applying to real objects, and how concepts can be used to capture elements of word meaning extending beyond (...) reference to real objects. (shrink)

In this research, the key elements of lectio divina, which is a Western spiritual practice, were tried to be mentioned. Many new practices emerged in the transition from desert monasticism, where early Christian monasticism emerged, to the settled monastic order, which attached little importance to reading other than the Bible. The habit of reading has also become one of the indispensable elements of the monastery after the transition to the settled monasteries. The entry of this term into monastic literature (...) dates back to St. Benedict (480-547), who included it in the daily monastic calendar as a kind of monastic discipline. The lectio practice applied in monasteries brought along some questions such as what the content of this reading activity is, how long it lasts and how it should be practiced. In this regard, the contributions of Cassiodorus (490-583), who was also a contemporary of St. Benedict, to the monastic literature and the ideal of the monastic school, are important. In addition, in this study, information is given about the monastery copying activities, which have an important place to be directly related to the lectio and ensuring the preservation of knowledge and transferring it to the next generations. From this point of view, it has been tried to examine the comments made by the monastic leaders from the early period to the 12th century on the pagan literature, which is not included in the Bible and religious works read in the monastic libraries. Lectio divina gained popularity among monasteries affiliated with the Roman Catholic Church, and by the 12th century it had developed into the four-stage reading process known today by Guigo II. The details of this four-stage process were tried to be given in the last section and the study was concluded after the evaluations made in the conclusion section. (shrink)

The Methodological seminar was conducted by the scientific journal “Philosophy of Education”. The participants of the seminar were Prof. Panos Eliopoulos, Lyudmyla Gorbunova, Mykhailo Boychenko, Olga Gomilko, Mariia Kultaieva, Volodymyr Kovtunets, Sergiy Kurbatov, Anna Laktionova, Tetiana Matusevych, Natalia Radionova, Iryna Stepanenko, Maya Trynyak and Viktor Zinchenko. On March 30, 2016, a methodological seminar was conducted at the Institute of Higher Education NAES of Ukraine. This seminar was devoted to the discussion of educational problems in the area of mass culture, and (...) relative opportunities for the development of individuality. The report «Mass culture, education and the perspective of individuality» was made by Panos Eliopulos, professor of Peloponnese University, a member of journal’s «Філософія освіти. Philosophy of Education” editorial board. The scientists from the Institute of Higher Education, Institute of Philosophy of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv, Skovoroda National Pedagogical University of Kharkiv participated in this event. Designated issues were observed primarily from the point of view of the Frankfurt School representatives, as well as representatives of modern critical philosophy of education and critical pedagogy. It was emphasized that T.Adorno’s ideas and ideas of other Frankfurt School members, which were developed in the middle of the last century, continue to be relevant in current socio-cultural contexts. The technical rationalism which became the rationalism of dominance in the context of technological civilization, could not provide the way toward the liberation of man and the development of his or her individuality. Market society with its instrumental rationality leads to homogenization and standardization of mass culture and as a result, we have a semi-education, leading to destruction of personality and social pathologies. The panelists agreed that semi-education reflects the crisis of ideals of education and training as far as a suspension of human emancipation process. Due to suspension of the creative process of a person formation, replacing it by the processes of stereotyping based on mimetic rationality, culture itself loses creative potential. The process of degradation of education and culture in the semi-education eventually leads to its destruction at theoretical level and the elaboration of the practice of anti-education. Only through returning of the individual and maintaining his or her social importance due to the tools of holistic education it is possible to overcome such stereotyping. For Frankfurt School members, and those who share their ideals, true education in its meta-theoretical sense becomes the important factor, contributing to the emancipation of society and individual. This idea is particularly important in the context of contemporary challenges and threats from instrumentalization of approaches to the process of transformation of the Ukrainian culture and education. (shrink)

The article reveals the nature and manifestations of Ukrainian religious pluralism. Despite the constant interest in the topic - the plurality of religious life in Ukraine, science has not yet clarified the causes and roots of this phenomenon. The author analyzes the historical, psychological, socio-political factors that caused the religious diversity of Ukraine. The presence of many religious traditions within one ethnic and state territory promotes tolerant relations between bearers of different religious beliefs. Ukraine's religious plurality distinguishes Ukrainians from other (...) nations. This gives grounds to consider Ukraine a unique religious phenomenon of the European level. Religious plurality is a condition for the establishment of the principles of freedom of religion, freedom of choice. The author derives worldview plurality and polydenominationalism in Ukraine from the history of the Ukrainian people, looking for their origins in the pre-Christian and later early Christian era. The presence of heresy in Ukraine as a generalized form of coexistence of different worldviews explains the current richness of religious traditions, their syncretization. The article makes an intermediate conclusion that the history itself, living conditions, national character of the people formed Ukraine denominationally plural. Based on such a historical foundation, since gaining state independence in 1991, Ukraine has been self-determined in its priorities regarding the country's spiritual / religious development. The Law “On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organizations” adopted by the Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine created a legal basis for the equal existence and development of different religions in Ukraine. The plurality of Ukrainian society is enshrined in law. The basic principles of the plurality of religious life are confirmed by specific digital data that illustrate the richness of religious traditions in Ukraine quantitatively and qualitatively. The author provides statistics on all religions and denominations that exist in Ukraine, giving the number of communities, monasteries, schools, priests, publications and more. Detailed information seeks to form a holistic picture of the religious life of Ukraine. The analyzed data give grounds to single out the factors that determine the religious plurality of Ukraine. According to the author, at the beginning of the XXI century the denominational network of Ukraine has largely already formed. The mass emergence of new religious movements is unlikely. Nevertheless, Ukraine has not yet exhausted all the possibilities of religious pluralism. It can grow not only due to the emergence of some exotic, technological, syncretic religions, but also because of intra-confessional division or unity of communities. In Ukraine, there are structures that cultivate interreligious tolerance, which will ensure a high level of religious freedom. However, religious pluralism in Ukraine is periodically threatened by various circumstances - internal and external, general and local, collective and personal. In conclusion, religious pluralism is determined as a guarantor of religious freedom, the right of everyone to profess his chosen system of spiritual values. (shrink)

Terence was studied, though not so much as Virgil, in monastery-schools. Their magistri bestirred themselves to get aid for pupils. Some famous magister— we know not who—had written, between the lines or in the margins, interpretations of difficult words in at least the three opening plays of the MS. which he used—Andr., Ad., Eun.—if not in all. These interpretations were collected from his MS. and found their way into many monastery-libraries. Goetz has published these glossae collectae of Terence (...) from a tenth century MS. in Vol. V. of his Corpus Glossariorum Latinorum, pp. 529–539; Mr. Austin has added more from a Leyden MS. , written apparently in Belgium or Holland, c. 800–815 A.D. . Probably Dr. Theander will add a further batch from a Paris MS. (shrink)

Fergus Kelly: Thinking in Threes: The Triad in Early Irish Literature Brian Pullan: Charity and Usury: Jewish and Christian Lending in Renaissance and Early Modern Italy Noel Malcolm: The Crescent and the City of the Sun: Islam and the Renaissance Utopia of Tommaso Campanella H. R. Woudhuysen: The Foundations of Shakespeare's Text J. G. A. Pocock: The Re-Description of Enlightenment Andrew Hadfield: Michael Drayton and the Burden of History Eric Foner: Abraham Lincoln: The Great Emancipator? Gillian Beer: Revenants and Migrants: (...) Hardy, Butler, Woolf and Sebald Stephen Banfield: Scholarship and the Musical: Reclaiming Jerome Kern Brian Simpson: The Rule of Law in International Affairs Christopher Bayly: 'The Nation Within': British India at War 1939-47 John Vickers: Economics for Consumer Policy Gillian Feeley-Harnik: The Geography of Descent Susan Gathercole: Working Memory and Learning During the School Years Lothar Ledderose: Carving Stone Sutras before the World Ends: The Inscription of 1118 CE at Cloud Dwelling Monastery near Beijing. (shrink)

This wise, stirring book argues that the search for meaning can immeasurably deepen our lives and is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness. There is a myth in our culture that the search for meaning is some esoteric pursuit--that you have to travel to a distant monastery or page through dusty volumes to figure out life's great secret. The truth is, there are untapped sources of meaning all around us--right here, right now. Drawing on the latest (...) research in positive psychology; on insights from George Eliot, Viktor Frankl, Aristotle, the Buddha, and other great minds; and on interviews with seekers of meaning, Emily Esfahani Smith lays out the four pillars upon which meaning rests. Belonging: We all need to find our tribe and forge relationships in which we feel understood, recognized, and valued--to know we matter to others. Purpose: We all need a far-reaching goal that motivates us, serves as the organizing principle of our lives, and drives us to make a contribution to the world. Storytelling: We are all storytellers, taking our disparate experiences and assembling them into a coherent narrative that allows us to make sense of ourselves and the world. Transcendence: During a transcendent or mystical experience, we feel we have risen above the everyday world and are connected to something vast and meaningful. To bring those concepts to life, Smith visits a tight-knit fishing village on the Chesapeake Bay, stargazes in West Texas, attends a dinner where young people gather to share their experiences of untimely loss, and more. And she explores how we might begin to build a culture of meaning in our schools, our workplaces, and our communities. Inspiring and story-driven, The Power of Meaning will strike a profound chord in anyone seeking a richer, more satisfying life. (shrink)