In recent years much scholarly work has explored the topic of John Chrysostom as an ancient “psychagogue”. In these recent studies, however, relatively little attention has been devoted to Chrysostom’s approach to almsgiving in relation to the cure of the soul. This article looks closely at Chrysostom’s view of almsgiving and soul therapy within the context of ancient philosophical therapy. Analyzing Chrysostom’s Homilies on Matthew, it demonstrates that for Chrysostom almsgiving is a crucial remedy for healing the (...) sick soul. (shrink)

This article is a sequel to an earlier exploration of the possibility of a shift in the Book of Tobit from the Deuteronomistic theological perspective in the beginning to a more nuanced concept of theodicy in the end. The Semitic versions of Tobit found at Qumran are regarded as the earliest witnesses to the story of Tobit, dating from ca. 100 BCE to the early part of the 1st century CE. They are very fragmentary, but the theme of almsgiving (...) recurs at regular intervals in the narrative. In the beginning the Deuteronomistic theological perspective is expressed in terms of Tobit’s belief that God will reward with prosperity those who give alms to their own kinsmen, but towards the end the ideology appears to shift from the rather self-centred ‘prosperity cult’ orientation to a different motivation for almsgiving. The aim of this article is to test the possibility that the almsgiving references are rhetorical hinges that mark the movement of the narrative into a different ideological viewpoint. The complexity of the manuscript transmission of the story of Tobit in the larger matrix of diachronic cultural and religious trends in the ancient Near East is kept in mind when text-critical problems are encountered. (shrink)

Though the early church practiced almsgiving as a normative act of piety its role as a formative spiritual discipline has been largely ignored in contemporary evangelical works on the disciplines. In this article, I argue that intentional and real care for the poor, though rarely mentioned today as a formative practice in evangelical circles, ought to be included in normative discussions of the spiritual disciplines.

Before the Semitic fragments of 4QTobit were found at Qumran, the 4th-century Greek GI version of Tobit was thought to be original and was regarded as ‘a lesson on almsgiving and its redeeming powers’. In his presentation of the 4Q196–4Q199 (Aramaic) and 4Q200 (Hebrew) fragments of Tobit, Fitzmyer, in 1995, reconstructed and rendered the Semitic lexeme צדקה (literally, ‘righteousness’) as ‘almsgiving’, as in Mishnaic Hebrew. He referred mainly to the 4th-century Common Era Greek and Old Latin versions. The (...) hypothesis of this article is that the Aramaic lexeme צדק may not yet have had the meaning of ‘almsgiving’ in the original composition; thus, the original authorial intention may be masked in Fitzmyer’s presentation. Therefore, the emphasis on almsgiving for ultimate personal gain found in the later copies of Tobit may be a secondary, reductionist application by subsequent scribes of the lexeme צדקה. To test this hypothesis, the relevant reconstructions and English translations as ‘almsgiving’ of the Semitic copies of Tobit found at Qumran are examined and reconsidered. In the beginning of the narrative, in 4Q196 (and in GI and GII) the rather self-righteous Tobit is ‘accidentally’ blinded while performing an act of charity to his own kin, which he believed was the way to gain righteousness and thus be rewarded by God. In the end, when he has recovered his sight, Tobit redefines the way to achieve true righteousness: to bless God and extol his majesty to all nations with truthfulness in heart and soul.Contribution: The comparison of the Semitic fragments from Qumran with the Septuagint versions suggests that the first reconstructions and translations of 4QTobit may have been overly influenced by the long-standing Greek versions. Whereas the Greek versions tend to emphasise almsgiving as a means to gain righteousness, the older Aramaic versions tend to highlight righteousness and truthfulness as the primary value. (shrink)

The purpose of this article was to compare Jerome’s and Augustine’s sermons on the fifth book of the Psalms with regard to their views on the rich and the poor. After a brief consideration of the different audiences of Jerome and Augustine, we focused on their attitudes to wealth and poverty, and almsgiving and its relationship to eschatology. In both Jerome’s and Augustine’s commentaries we were confronted with problems regarding the nature of the collections, the composition of the audiences, (...) and a lack of overlap between the two works, but it was possible to discern congruences and differences in their exegesis. In their preaching on poverty and riches, both homilists associated Judas with the devil and wealth. With regard to the identification of Christ and the poor, Jerome offers a somewhat uneasy exegesis in explaining that Christ stands at the right hand of the pauper, although the Lord himself is rich. Augustine mentioned the identification of Christ and the poor a few times in Enarrationes in Psalmos and framed the poverty of Christ within the body of the church, emphasising the common humanity of his congregation. In his sermons, mainly delivered to monks, Jerome advocated total renunciation. Augustine made more allowances for human frailty, advocating partial and gradual dispossession. The Songs of Ascent provided both our authors with the opportunity to consider the place of almsgiving in an eschatological context. Contribution: We investigate the views of two prominent Latin fathers on wealth and poverty in their sermons on Psalms 109–150. The focus on wealth and poverty is evident. Judas is identified with the rich and Christ with the poor, placing Christ and riches against each other in an either/or position. (shrink)

At the beginning of the 20th century, the shorter Greek version of the book of Tobit, GI, which is included in the Catholic Bible, was thought to be the oldest version. It was defined as ‘a lesson on almsgiving and its redeeming powers’. As the discoveries of the Semitic copies of Tobit at Qumran, GI is recognised to be a reworking of the longer version GII, most probably originally written in Aramaic, between 225 and 175 BCE. In all versions (...) of Tobit, the theme of almsgiving is introduced as specifically directed to Jewish kinsmen, but towards the end, is to be directed to all poor, suggesting that it may have been written by a Hellenistic Jew. Although the surface context of the narrative of Tobit is the Jewish tradition of proper observation of mitzvot and sacrifice and eventual reward, the various versions contain varying degrees of ancient Near Eastern wisdom, and an ironic, subversive reflection of hypocritical righteousness. This article questioned why the endings differ markedly in different versions. To try to find answers, a semantic comparison was made between GI and the most complete Aramaic version 4Q196. Contribution: This article considered the implications of source criticism in the reception of the various versions of Tobit. The possibility was examined that the pre-Christian, Aramaic version 4Q196Tobit does not confirm the excessive focus on almsgiving as righteousness apparent in the GI version of LXX Tobit. (shrink)

The article presents the preliminary results of the author’s study of the unedited homily De transfiguratione et eleemosyna, ascribed to John Chrysostom. The question of the manuscript tradition is first discussed. The article shows that Maurice Sachot is right when he indicates only the manuscript Romanus Angelicus gr. 125 as a manuscript witness of this homily and that the other two witnesses indicated by Pinakes are erroneous. Then, the descriptions of the folios that preserve the homily are analysed in the (...) light of a new examination of them. This re-examination shows that hitherto several sources that inspired the compiler have gone unnoticed. This is followed by a brief summary of the contents of the homily and an analysis of the passages in which almsgiving is mentioned.Contribution: The article offers a re-examination of the folios 353v–361 from the manuscript Romanus Angelicus gr. 125, the first presentation of the content of the homily De transfiguratione et eleemosyna, and tries to shed light on the association of the theme of the Transfiguration with almsgiving. (shrink)

Human actions can be identified by species, such as murder, theft, or almsgiving. But how does one determine to which kind an action belongs? Joseph Pilsner explores Thomas Aquinas's answer to this philosophical question.

In Islamic theological writings, under the heading of sustenance, the focus is generally on issues such as who is the provider of sustenance, whether haram is considered sustenance, and whether Allah’s consent exists for haram sustenance. Another issue that can be found between the lines of the subject of sustenance is whether it is haram for a person to work for sustenance or not. In fact, the pursuit of means of livelihood in order to sustain one’s life is, according to (...) the general and predominant acceptance of Muslim scholars, permissible and, in cases of necessity, wajib. According to a record in Uṣūl al-niḥal, during the formative period of itizālī thought, there were Mu‘tazilite sufis (ṣūfiyyat al-Muʿtazila) such as Bishr b. al-Mu‘tamir’s disciple Abū Imrān Mūsā b. al-Raqqāshī, al-Naẓẓām’s apostate disciple Fadl al-Hadathī, and Husayn al-Kūfī, about whom no information is available. These names, who seem to have earned their livelihood through almsgiving, defended the forbiddenness (taḥrīm al-makāsib) of all kinds of endeavour for sustenance, contrary to the acceptance of Muslim thinkers. However, it should be noted that for them, the forbiddenness in making an effort for sustenance does not cover the definition of sustenance, which is ‘all the benefits’, but only the effort in obtaining sustenance through means such as trade and agriculture. It is interesting to find such an extreme tendency among the Mu‘tazilites, who came to the fore with their rationalist discourses. “How could a Mu‘tazilite defend tahrīm al-makāsib?”, the issue of abandonment of striving for sustenance (tark al-makāsib), from which the idea of tahrīm al-makāsib is thought to have evolved, is mentioned, and then the Mu‘tazilite sufis views on tahrīm al-makāsib are tried to be based mainly on Mu‘tazilite sources and the criticisms of Mu‘tazilite authors against them are included. It has been determined that Mu‘tazilite sufis justifications for defending tahrīm al-makāsib concentrate on three points: (i) the absence of a just order due to the absence of a just imam and the possibility of supporting the oppressors (rulers) intentionally or unintentionally, and as a result of this, some of them describe the land of Islam as dār al-kufr, (ii) again in relation to the issue of imamate, in an environment where there is no justice, i.e. legal/moral order, the halāl and harām are so intertwined that they cannot be separated from each other, and in order to protect oneself from harām, the things that are subject to sustenance can only be purified through charity and become halāl, and (iii) the fact that trust in Allah is obligatory and any effort to pursue sustenance is contrary to tawakkul. The Mu‘tazilite authors criticised the proponents of tahrīm al-makāsib on the grounds that it is permissible to trade while maintaining a rational and ethical attitude, that one’s intention and interest in trade are important, and that tawakkul cannot be built on the right ground. As a result, the proponents of tahrīm al-makāsib disappeared because they could not gain a foothold in the Mu‘tazilite intellectual climate due to their erroneous reasoning. (shrink)

“Give to everyone who begs from you,” Jesus advised his followers. Most of us do not and rush on by, concerned for our safety, for what the beggar will buy with our gift of alms, for who will benefit from our gift. Fewer stop and give something: if not cash, then a snack or beverage, and their precious time. A century since Marcel Mauss published his famous essay, we all feel quite well informed about “the gift.” In this richly detailed (...) study, Caner's achievement is to show how different gift-giving was in the late antique Roman Empire, “the first truly affluent, complex Christian society.” Philanthropy was no longer the ancient “love of humanity,” the imperative to be generous to people, when you thought, or even knew, that they did not deserve it. Yet philanthropy was moreover not, or not only, a series of precisely calibrated acts of reciprocal giving.Caner's focus is on the religious gift. He identifies five distinct categories of religious gift-giving, which others have too easily conflated. The newest of these was the blessing (eulogia), which emerged only in the sixth century, in the thousands of sermons, saintly lives, and letters that Caner consulted. It has been identified similarly in other ascetic cultures, for example in Hinduism and Jainism, as the pure or free gift whose existence Mauss denied. The blessing is a gift of divine benevolence, grace delivered through a human mediator. It is not synonymous with the gift of alms (eleēmosynē), a very human act of mercy from one individual to another. These are in turn distinct from charity (agapē), “self-sacrificial gifts derived from essential resources”; two forms of offering—liturgical offerings (prosphorai), such as the communion bread, on the one hand, and fruit-bearing offerings (karpophoriai), along with agricultural and other gifts to support religious professionals. “Each category,” which has an equivalent in contemporary Syriac and Coptic writings, “was associated with a distinct set of goals, responsibilities, relationships, and material resources.”The late antique city was as busy with organized gangs of professional beggars as any modern downtown, but early Christians could not simply turn away. They were hectored into caring by golden-mouthed preachers like John, bishop of New Rome. Chrysostom insisted that almsgiving should be direct and personal, a source of discomfort for those who offered comfort. The rich might also, as ever, engage in ostentatious acts of giving, the exchange of worldly goods to redeem them from their sins, including the pride associated with ostentatious giving. Transactional gift-giving could end up with everyone insulted: generosity could be refused, donors repudiated, gifts returned. That much seems familiar at a time when museums and universities have felt compelled to remove the names of disgraced donors from their buildings and galleries. Caner's rich analysis, because it is so firmly rooted in early Byzantium, offers reasons, and some new tools, to think again and hard about the complexities of philanthropy. (shrink)

Islam as both religion and socioeconomic system is based on five main pillars, that is – five basic acts considered mandatory by Muslims, summarized in the hadith of Gabriel. One of them is zakāt (almsgiving), i.e. giving 2.5% of one’s wealth to the poor and needy. In contrary to Christian religion, where question of charity is rather of a voluntary matter, the role of zakāt in Islam is much more rigidly described. Almsgiving is considered as a duty of (...) a pious Muslim towards the poor. Thus in Islamic economy, strongly based on Islam principles given by Allah to Muhammad, zakāt is imposed by law and is not considered a charity but duty rather. The notion of zakāt is mentioned in Qur-an over a 100 times, solely or in conjunction with other commandments. On a basis that zakāt is to be paid as a part of total wealth exceeding given minimum wealth (nisab) it is then justifiable to say that zakāt is principally a tax. A role of this essay is to shed some light on a utilisation and role of zakāt in Islamic economies in socioeconomic context, with an example of Islamic Republic of Pakistan, where in 1980 the Zakāt Ordinance was imposed. The concept of zakāt is present in many Islamic countries, but its nature varies, being dependent from the interpretation of religious law in a given country. Everywhere though, its social role as an important tool maintaining social justice is strongly expressed. Of course zakāt system also has its drawbacks and is subjected to much criticism. The article aims to present both advantages and negative aspects of zakāt. (shrink)

This article examines the early Christian reception of the apocryphal book Tobit, focusing on Greek and Latin Christian interpretations from the 2nd to the 5th century CE. The study asks: how did early Christians read Tobit and for what purposes? The article provides an overview of how and why Tobit ended up in the Christian Bible, whether canonical or apocryphal. It then examines how the figures of Tobit and his son, Tobias, function as a moral exemplum in early Christianity, especially (...) related to almsgiving and financial management, burials and the care of the dead, marriage and parenthood, prayer, the suffering and endurance of Tobit, and the role of Tobit in the Christian understanding of angels. The article demonstrates that Tobit had a rich and diverse reception in early Christian biblical interpretation, especially in the Latin church of the West. Contribution: This article investigates the historical reception of the apocryphal Book of Tobit in early Christian thought. The focus is especially on the varieties of thought regarding Tobit. The article provides an overview of how and why Tobit ended up in the Christian Bible, whether canonical or apocryphal. It then examines how the figures of Tobit and his son, Tobias, function as moral exempla. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 22 (2002) 105-112 [Access article in PDF] A Response to Reflections on Buddhist and Christian Religious Practices Ursula King University of Bristol I appreciate the opportunity to respond to these essays of personal reflections, comparing Buddhist religious practices with some Christian examples. The different essays are rich in detail, engaging and challenging; they explore new vistas but also point to larger horizons that remain to be explored. (...) Each contribution is so different; each can be read in multiple ways, and further questions can be asked about all of them. Although each contributor has chosen a specific focus, a particular way of interpreting Buddhist religious experience and practice, for me a common thread connects them all. The overarching question, implicitly present even when not explicitly formulated, seems to concern what religious and spiritual practices are really all about.What is the nature and content, and even more, what is the purpose of religious practice? Can very different practices be compared across different religious traditions? Is it legitimate to compare Buddhist and Christian religious practices, even when they occur in very different contexts and are undergirded by different histories and systems of thought? Is the purpose of all religious practice always spiritual growth and transformation, or is the ultimate goal (if there is such a goal) utterly different and distinct from all such strivings?There can be no doubt that both external and internal religious practices can be compared at some level, that certain common patterns, shared meanings, and significance, can be discerned in a wide variety of religions. It is these commonalities that phenomenological approaches to the study of religions have extensively explored and classified, but theological, philosophical, and spiritual comparisons are more difficult to delineate. Yet they do exist and have been investigated by many Eastern and Western thinkers. The religious practitioner, who may or may not be a scholar, more often than not remains unaware of the myriad of subtle scholarly distinctions that inhabit a long-trained rational mind. For such a practitioner the strength of spiritual commitment and the practical help in the business of daily living seems to count most when assessing the benefits or otherwise of religious practice. Somehow I find it impossible to capture the ultimate significance of religious practices, whether Buddhist [End Page 105] or Christian, within the limits of ordinary language. We always seem to deal with preliminaries, with passing realities rather than abiding truth and ultimate wisdom. Yet we all know of the paradox that there is no other way to the Ultimate than through the Ordinary. It is through the manifold religious practices, however routine and repetitive, that spiritual experience patiently plots its path and weaves its pattern in order to arrive at some eventual destination or be engraced by the gratuitous joy of sudden transformation.These essays by academic colleagues and friends appealed to my spiritual imagination, and some passages moved me deeply. Their Buddhist insights are enriching and thought-provoking, their references to numerous Christian parallels—whether perceived in meditation, prayer, confession, almsgiving, asceticism, vows, gestures, use of religious texts, or reference to the need for community—sometimes drew my attention to links not seen before, comparisons not encountered earlier. From a Christian perspective I also recognized that some comparisons are only made in passing, so that several comments on Christian religious practices are not as developed as one might expect from an insider's point of view.All religious traditions, not just Buddhism and Christianity, involve movement, process, and transformation. Each faith tradition, grown over so many centuries and practiced in different societies and cultures by so many different individuals, possesses an ocean of riches that none of us can receive fully. There are major directions and patterns, there are mainstream and marginal practices, but no one would be able to follow them all, nor even want to practice them all, and some may even need to be discarded as obsolete or spiritually unhelpful.There exists always an excess of spiritual and ritual resources, an abundance of means whereby to find spiritual advance and fulfillment, just as there... (shrink)

Cyprian’s appropriation of Scripture and his theological emphases are closely connected with the circumstances of his congregation. As a case study in Cyprian’s biblical interpretation, this article considers all his quotations of and allusions to Philippians through the lens of his pastoral concerns: the unity of the Church; care for the poor and captive; discipline and repentance; and divine truth and eternal glory. The reading strategies Cyprian uses can be categorized as contextual exegesis, model, image, direct application, and prophetic fulfilment. (...) The study provides a fresh perspective on patronage and almsgiving in Cyprian, deepens our understanding of the reception of Paul, and elucidates the interplay of text, context and theology in an important exponent of early Latin exegesis. (shrink)

_A groundbreaking examination of a crucial concept in Islamic thought and tradition from an author noted for her work on interfaith and intercultural dialogue_ Considering its prominent role in many faith traditions, surprisingly little has been written about hospitality within the context of religion, particularly Islam. In her new book, Mona Siddiqui, a well-known media commentator, makes the first major contribution to the understanding of hospitality both within Islam and beyond. She explores and compares teachings within the various Muslim traditions (...) over the centuries, while also drawing on materials as diverse as Islamic belles lettres, Christian reflections on almsgiving and charity, and Islamic and Western feminist writings on gender issues. Applying a more theological approach to the idea of mercy as a fundamental basis for human relationships, this book will appeal to a wide audience, particularly readers interested in Islam, ethics, and religious studies. (shrink)

This article examines the early Christian reception of the apocryphal book Tobit, focusing on Greek and Latin Christian interpretations from the 2nd to the 5th century CE. The study asks: how did early Christians read Tobit and for what purposes? The article provides an overview of how and why Tobit ended up in the Christian Bible, whether canonical or apocryphal. It then examines how the figures of Tobit and his son, Tobias, function as a moral exemplum in early Christianity, especially (...) related to almsgiving and financial management, burials and the care of the dead, marriage and parenthood, prayer, the suffering and endurance of Tobit, and the role of Tobit in the Christian understanding of angels. The article demonstrates that Tobit had a rich and diverse reception in early Christian biblical interpretation, especially in the Latin church of the West. CONTRIBUTION: This article investigates the historical reception of the apocryphal Book of Tobit in early Christian thought. The focus is especially on the varieties of thought regarding Tobit. The article provides an overview of how and why Tobit ended up in the Christian Bible, whether canonical or apocryphal. It then examines how the figures of Tobit and his son, Tobias, function as moral exempla. (shrink)

The changes in the short version of Leontios of Neapolis’ Life of John the Almsgiver are analyzed in order to evaluate their cause and to expose their literary character. It is shown that the saint’s oaths are suppressed due to a misunderstanding of a passage in the Prologue, and by respect of the Evangelical commandment. The short version also eliminates pagan concepts of fortune, emphasises the social hierarchy, the accordance between words and thoughts, the action of God as a cause (...) of miracles, and avoids to name God as a reason. The short version raises the stylistical level of the text using the methods of the Metaphrast which is common in the 10th century. The textual tradition also allows to date it into this century. The long version is surely the original text, and the changes made to it show a cultural change between the 7th and 10th centuries. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 37-41 [Access article in PDF] What I Know and Don't Know: A Christian Reflects on Buddhist Practice Mary Frohlich Catholic Theological Union To reflect and write on spiritual practice for publication in an academic journal requires a delicate balancing act. It is not appropriate simply to recount one's experience; nor is it appropriate merely to theorize. I am assisted in this balancing act by a (...) set of categories proposed some years ago by Walter Principe and generally accepted as standard now within the academic field of spirituality. Principe observed that spirituality operates on three interrelated yet distinct levels and that it is crucial for the academician to be clear about which level or levels are being presented. The three are: (1) experience; (2) articulation within wisdom traditions; (3) academic interpretation. 1 My understanding of what is desired in the present context is some of all three but with a primary emphasis on the second. What does Buddhist practice look like from my stance within my Christian "wisdom traditions"? Thus, this is the horizon within which I will present both experience and academic insights.First a bit of autobiographical context. I became a Christian as a young adult, after having been raised in a secular humanist household. My first attempts at a form of meditation as a teenager came from reading Taoist books; in college I experimented with drugs (at that time this was often seen as "spiritual practice") and spent a couple of years very seriously practicing transcendental meditation. Only after all this did I seek baptism and church membership. Since then, my certainty that my call is to be a Christian has not wavered. I spent several years in a Carmelite contemplative monastery, and I now belong to another Roman Catholic religious order.Yet I have repeatedly been drawn to periods of engagement with various practices having Hindu and Buddhist roots.This context is important to describe because I am aware that for me (and for many spiritual seekers today) there can never be a "pure" insertion in a single tradition. I reflected on that recently in an airplane at twenty-five thousand feet, looking down and seeing how totally human constructive activity has reshaped the contours of the land, the rivers, and everything that depends on them. I realized then that the same must be said of the inner contours of my soul. Nearing fifty, I bear the marks [End Page 37] of everything that I have ever done or touched or suffered or known. As I approach this task of reflecting on Buddhist practice from the point of view of a Christian, I cannot do it as a pure outsider. My spiritual practice is Christian in its core, but it has been inextricably shaped by so many other influences--including varieties of Buddhist practice.It is also important to acknowledge the limits of my knowledge about Buddhism and Buddhist practices. My academic exposure to Buddhism is about equivalent to an introductory undergraduate course. As for Buddhist practice, I have participated in a total of five weekend retreats, three one-week retreats, and one three-week retreat. These were all from either Vipassana (Insight Meditation) or Zen (Kwan Um or Diamond Sangha) traditions. Occasionally, I have also had even briefer exposure to other Buddhist traditions. I am very aware that there is much I do not know, or that perhaps I just plain misunderstand, about Buddhism.Yet dialogue requires that I honestly state my views, in their present form, with the hope that in the dialogical process what is misinformed or insensitive can eventually be corrected.Spiritual practice (for Buddhists as well as Christians) involves many different kinds of practices. Practices of charity, such as hospitality or almsgiving, perhaps present the fewest obstacles to mutual understanding, because the practices may be generally similar in both traditions. The ritual practices of a religious tradition, on the other hand, can feel extremely alien to those who do not belong to that religious culture. Paul Hanvey has noted that our reaction to... (shrink)

This book examines the origins of communal and institutional almsgiving in rabbinic Judaism. It undertakes a close reading of foundational rabbinic texts and places their discourses on organized giving in their second to third century CE contexts. Gregg E. Gardner finds that Tannaim promoted giving through the soup kitchen and charity fund, which enabled anonymous and collective support for the poor. This protected the dignity of the poor and provided an alternative to begging, which benefited the community as a (...) whole - poor and non-poor alike. By contrast, later Jewish and Christian writings would see organized charity as a means to promote their own religious authority. This book contributes to the study of Jews and Judaism, history of religions, biblical studies, and ethics. (shrink)

Jean Porter, a noted moral theologian, has argued that Karl Rahner’s influential theory of the fundamental option is of little practical use in actually attempting to live a holy and virtuous life. Thomas Aquinas’ account of the infused virtue of charity, she claims, offers a richer account of the Christian moral life and so is of greater practical use. This essay challenges this assertion by placing Rahner’s notion of fundamental option into dialogue with Thomistic caritas. It argues that the actions (...) that Porter takes to be characteristic of charity—itself a controversial proposition—are themselves in need of greater specification and so not as “concrete” as Porter would have one believe. Beneficence, almsgiving, and fraternal correction must be interpreted in light of diverse historical and cultural circumstances. Rahner recognizes this problem and so is legitimately hesitant to over-specify the demands of neighbor love. Further the Thomistic account of virtues with its commitment to the unity of the virtues is not able to resolve the problem of the “flawed saint” or the virtuous non-believer’s prospects for salvation in the way Rahner’s account can. Thus the Thomistic program is far less detailed than Porter suggests and it involves considerable theological and pastoral costs. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Three Probes into St. Francis of Assisi's Second Letter to the Faithful1Robert J. Karris, OFMFrancis' Second Letter to the Faithful2 is so rich that it would take a lengthy book to probe most of its treasures. My goal is to make three probes: 1) from a literary analysis of this letter of exhortation, 2) from the results of a more thorough search for the biblical sources behind its eighty-eight (...) lines, and 3) from the insights achieved through literary and theological parallels to its contents.3 I accomplish my goals by going systematically through this letter, which I contend has introduction, positive exhortations, conclusion to positive exhortations and bridge to second part of the letter, negative exhortations, aka polemic, the example story of the unrepentant rich man, and ending.4 At the very beginning, I remind myself and my readers of something that we might take for granted: The dominant figure of this letter is "our Lord Jesus Christ," an expression and reality that pulses through its eighty-eight lines. Take, as [End Page 79] an example, n. 49–50, which are staggering in scope: "And they (who persevere in penance) will be children of the heavenly Father, whose works they are doing. And they are spouses, brothers, and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ."Methodology: Search for Literary and Theological ParallelsEarly on in my doctoral studies, I learned the importance and value of investigating New Testament texts by means of their literary parallels.5 For example, there were significant interpretive payoffs to be gained by comparing St. Paul's use of polemic in the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy and Titus) to that employed by the Stoics.6 Paul probably never met a Stoic philosopher in his life, but their means of no-holds-barred polemic was "in the air" he breathed. Daniel J. Harrington expresses well this common methodology in New Testament Studies: "In literature a parallel involves some point or points of similarity between two texts where literary dependence is unlikely or not proved. Parallels to New Testament texts can be taken from any body of literature and from any period of history…"7So what parallels do I suggest as background for the interpretation of Francis' 2LtF? There may be many, since Francis' letter is dealing with fundamental human and Christian realities: sin and virtue. I have selected what I call The Big Three:In his De Virtutibus et Vitiis Liber,8 Alcuin of York (d. 800) wrote a letter to Count Guy, who is engaged in martial activities. Alcuin has followed Guy's request for paternal admonition and prays that his writing may help Guy to perpetual salvation (n. 6). Alcuin writes briefly about 35 topics: wisdom, faith, charity, hope, zeal of reading, peace, mercy, remission, patience, humility, compunction of the heart, confession, repentance, not delaying conversion to God, fear of God, fasting, almsgiving, chastity, avoiding fraud, judges, false witnesses, envy, pride, proneness to anger, not seeking human praise, perseverance in good works, eight principal vices, greed, fornication, avarice, anger, [End Page 80] weariness (acedia), sorrow, cenodoxia (vainglory), and the four virtues.9 It is abundantly clear that Francis does not engage in 35 topics, but his exhortations do overlap with a number of Alcuin's, e.g., almsgiving, judges, perseverance in good works.In his Liber exhortationis,10 Archbishop St. Paulinus of Aquileia (d. 802) wrote to Count or Duke Henry of Fruilli. His treatise has 66 chapters and covers virtually all spiritual and moral topics. Of singular interest is Chapter 8, "On Friendship with God and Keeping God's Commandments." His final chapter is a long prayer to resist the wiles of the devil and to persevere in virtue. Saints Paulinus of Aquileia and Francis of Assisi's 2LtF have numerous points in common.11Archbishop Hincmar of Reims (d. 882) wrote a very polished and regarded letter, De cavendis vitiis et virtutibus exercendis to King Charles the Bald.12 It has ten chapters. The first seven deal chiefly with vices such as avarice, pride, voluptuousness, gluttony, envy, anger, and jealousy. They also encourage virtuous deeds such as almsgiving, works of mercy, fidelity, and prayer. Chapters 8... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The 2003 Meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian StudiesFrances S. AdeneyThe 2003 meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies was held in Atlanta, Georgia, 21-22 November 2003. This year's theme was "Overcoming Greed: Christians and Buddhists in a Consumeristic Culture." During the first session panelists Paula Cooey, Valerie Karras, and John Cobb, whose paper was read by Jay McDaniel, presented Christian views and Stephanie Kaza gave a Buddhist response. (...) The second session mirrored the first with panelists Kenneth Kraft, David Barnhill, and Judith Simmer-Brown presenting Buddhist views on the theme and Paul Knitter responded with a Christian analysis.Cooey began the discussion by outlining her thesis that overcoming greed depends on overcoming fear. She asserted that people buy out of fear thus perpetuating a system of greed. The consequences of fear support the cultural myth of upward mobility—there is no way to go but up. The exploitation of fear then produces goods benefiting those at the top of the economic system. This system also produces consequences for human rights as cultural fear leads to laws that thwart due process, for example, the Patriot Act.An alternative Christian view understands desire to be culturally produced—sin upsets the natural order; God redeems. Christian transformation requires dissent against the underlying greed that supports the cultural system.Christianity arose as a movement of dissent, a countercultural movement. That trajectory of dissent has continued through the centuries. Although early Calvinists were noted for linking personal wealth with election, the Mennonites and Anabaptists created better models for practicing dissent. Those communities are based in an economy of grace, supported by an underlying ethic of the ability to give as a gift of grace. This economy, for Christians, is mediated by Jesus of Nazareth and allows for transformation toward becoming greedy for God.Valerie Karras illumined the differences in Christian traditions by her analysis of the difference in anthropology between Eastern and Western Christian theologies. The community model of Eastern Christianity is hostile to the individualism of Western consumerism. Instead, in this model, greed is recognized as a fallen passion, the consequence of separation from God. The two aspects of greed in this view are [End Page 231] acquisitive lust: the desire for control, and desire for the physical acquisition of things.Karras used Clement of Alexandria and John Chrysostom as examples of theologians that criticized the rich and encouraged Christians to use their wealth for the poor. In this view, overcoming greed involves a spiritual process. Virtue can be cultivated by a proper use of wealth, which in itself has no moral content. It is the misuse of wealth that indicates deeper spiritual problems. Some of those spiritual problems can be alleviated by asceticism: celibacy, almsgiving, fasting, and prayer. Such exercises can provide a means to master the vices—greed, in this case, being the vice at hand.John Cobb's paper argued that a theology of consumerism is deeply embedded in our culture. That theology runs counter to traditional Western Christian teaching that consuming more deprives others. The question one must ask is, Does consumption enhance or detract from the common good? Traditional arguments that too much consumption deprives others were rendered obsolete by the industrial revolution. The new problem is how can demand keep up with production. The argument here is that increased consumption benefits others by preventing downturns in the economy.Unfortunately, Cobb argues, the spiritual costs to this pattern of consumption are tremendous. A class of exploited peasants now produces more goods, but has a better society been created? Increasing poverty in two-thirds of the world, global warming, dehumanizing advertising, and the unsustainability of keeping production at current levels press the issue. Human survival depends on changing consumption patterns. The elite must be forced to give up control and we must recover and emphasize the traditional Christian interpretation of greed as a cardinal sin.To accomplish this, Cobb recommends rejecting consumerism in our personal lives, developing local sustainability projects, and demonstrating another world possibility—another way to live that leads to human flourishing. Buddhist and Christian emphases on overcoming consumerism are complimentary and together can make possible the deep changes that are... (shrink)

Imāmiyya holds that the theory of imāmate must rely on scriptural evidence and designation and that the Imām, the successor to Muḥammad, is in charge of all political and religious issues. The authority of the Imām includes some religious and social duties such as executing the legal punishments, collecting almsgiving, sustaining social order and declaring holy war. The fulfillment of these duties requires actual leadership of the Imām or his deputy. With the beginning of the great occultation in 329/941, (...) there was an uncertainty among the Imāmiyya followers about who would uphold these responsibilities. In this period, Shīʿī ʿulamā began to undertake the duties of the Imām in order to overcome this uncertainty and to avoid the possible schism. In the beginning, this delegation of authority was limited to the religious sphere; but, later, its scope gradually became wider. This process of delegation of power, which covers a long process, needs to be examined in its various periods. In this study, this subject will be considered with special reference to the scholars of the fifth century of hijra (hijrī). An effort is made in this article to reveal how the issues of the Imām’s powers are discussed in the context of the problem of expanding or narrowing the authority of the scholars who played significant roles in systemization of Uṣūlī (rationalist) thought in the period after Shaykh al-Mufīd.Summary: In the issues of Imām/Caliphate which led to political division among Muslims after the Prophet Muḥammad, Imāmī Shīʿa opines that the Imāmate theory relies on scriptural evidence and designation. According to this theory, apart from scriptural evidence and designation, personal qualities such as immaculacy, knowledge, bravery, and vantage are found in Ali, Ḥasan, Ḥusayn and nine people from the lineage of Ḥusayn. The Imām as a successor to the Prophet Muḥammad is a person who has both religious and political power which includes implementation of punishments, collecting alms, ensuring justice, declaring holy war. For the Imāmī Shīʿa, there is a need for imām or his deputy who has absolute power to fulfill these duties.Imāmī Shīʿa, who held that the disappeared twelfth Imām would return back to restore justice in the world, had to confront various problems in finding solutions to some issues related to the existence of Imām himself, as well as theological issues during the period of great occultation. Particularly, the period of great occultation (329/941), in which the link with the Imām was severed completely, the Shīʿī community were uncertain on how to fulfill the responsibilities of the Imām probably due to the lack of religious sources. Shaykh al-Mufīd draws attention to the issue of khums (a one-fifth share of the spoils of war and of other specified forms of income). In this period of uncertainty, the Shiite scholars came into prominence in order to fill the gap and to prevent the social disorder. Referring to a tawqī‘ (rescript) from the Twelfth Imām, they claimed that they would take responsibility for the Twelfth Imām on his behalf. In the beginning, the delegation of the power was limited to the religious sphere. It was gradually extended to other spheres by the contribution of some scholars. It reached the largest dimension with the implementation of “wilāyat al-faqīh” theory.From that period until our times, the era when Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples lived can be considered as the beginning of this period. In the fifth century when Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples lived the delegation of power was limited to the religious sphere. In this article, how the scholars who played a role in the systematization of Uṣūlī thought dealt with the issue of the limits of the authority of Imām and how they defined the role of the Imāmī jurists (faqīh) will be examined.Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples were sometimes cautious on the issue of the delegation of the power of Imām. They, however, pointed out the role of the faqīh in the occultation period in order to overcome the uncertainty. As a matter of fact, Shaykh al-Ṭūsī and al-Qādī Ibn al-Barrāj made significant contributions to the issues of collection and distribution of khums. However, Sallār al-Daylamī’s contribution to the subject is more crucial. He considered khums as the grace of God and believed that it can be allocated by taking into account the share of the Imām. They put forward the views that explained in details the role of the faqīh in the collection and distribution of alms. Even Ibn al-Barrāj opined that in the absence of Imām and his deputy alms are to be allocated to the Faqihs on the ground that they know better how to distribute it. Therefore, in the absence of Imām and his deputy, by suggesting that faqīh must be in charge of collecting and distributing alms, they proposed a remedy in an early period.On the issue of leading the Friday prayer (ṣalāt al-jum‘a), which is one of the social duties of Imām, Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples considered the presence of the Imām or his deputy as a condition for a valid Friday prayer. In addition to this condition, Al-Ḥalabī, also added that a person who meets the necessary conditions can be also considered in leading Friday prayer. This addition by Ḥalabī was an important contribution to the solution of the problems encountered during the period of great occultation on both Friday prayer and delegation of Imām religious and political authorities to faqīh. On the other hand, Sallār, another disciple of Sharīf al-Murtaḍā, opposed the idea of the faqīh leading the Friday prayer in the absence of the Imām even when the necessary conditions are met. It can be said that this approach of Sallār led to the opinion of some Imāmis which considered Friday prayer unlawful in the absence of Imām. In the occultation period, Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples showed a cautious attitude about the implementation of the punishments. They argued that only Imām could implement the punishments. However, the major step was taken by Shaykh Ṭūsī on the issue of who implements the punishments in the occultation period. He argued that the Imām’s designated the faqihs to implement the punishments. In addition to this subject, Shiite scholars discussed the issue of whether a Shiite officer under the reigning rule in the occultation period implemented the punishments. On this issue, Sharīf al-Murtaḍā compiled a treaty untitled Mas’ala fi’l-‘amal ma‘a’al-sulṭan. For him, the main criteria are whether such person has necessary responsibilities and qualifications. Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples also continued their master’s conciliatory attitude. In the final analysis, the contribution of Sharīf al-Murtaḍā and his disciples on the issue of who will undertake the duties and responsibilities of the Imām is crucial in the systematization of the idea of transferal of the power of the Imām to faqīh including political one. In fact, Sharīf al-Murtaḍā’s advice to take part in the existing administrations has been considered a way out for the scholars who want to establish relations with the authorities in the later periods. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Overcoming Greed:An Eastern Christian Perspective1Valerie A. KarrasAs an Eastern Orthodox Christian, I have chosen to approach the topic of "overcoming greed" from an Eastern Christian perspective, relying particularly on the writings of some of the early theologians of the Greek East. It is not coincidental either that laissez-faire capitalism arose in the Western Christian world, or that the first strongholds of communism developed in Eastern European, traditionally Orthodox, countries. (...) Both phenomena speak to an intrinsic difference in the way in which human beings are conceived as relating to the world and to each other, both personally and communally.The traditional Eastern Christian model of the human person as not simply caretaker of creation, but fundamentally as a mediator uniting all aspects of creation in humanity's own nature,2 has led historically to a general lack of interest in exploiting creation (in fact, the worst environmental problems in the Orthodox world occurred in countries after they came under totalitarian communist domination). Similarly, the Eastern Orthodox emphasis on the relational, and even communal, nature of salvation created an environment hostile to the individualist, exploitative model upon which modern Western economics has been founded (this has been rapidly changing in post-communist Eastern European countries and Russia, however).The Eastern Church identifies this phenomenon of exploitative and abusive relationships toward nature and other persons as a consequence of the fallen condition of humanity, that is, humanity as it currently exists, in a state where our natural communion with God has been ruptured. In this context, Christianity in general and Eastern Christianity in particular recognize greed as one of the passions (equivalent to what Buddhism describes as "cravings") that are part of our fallen human nature, a consequence of our separation from God. Some of the passions are primarily physical in nature, others emotional or psychic, but in fact virtually all passions are a combination of the two.Greed, a passion of both soul and body that is endemic to our current existence, is typical of this understanding. There are two aspects to the vice of greed: (1) the emotional or spiritual dimension, that is, the acquisitive lust that usually betokens either a deep-seated insecurity or, worse, a desire for power and control; and (2) the [End Page 47] external, physical manifestations of greed in the actual acquisition of things, often to the detriment or exploitation of others. Eastern Christian writings attempt to work on both dimensions of the passion of greed, especially the spiritual, while often distinguishing between greed (a moral vice) and wealth (an amoral condition).This article will focus on two early church theologians, Clement of Alexandria and John Chrysostom. In particular, it will focus on their biblical exegeses of two pertinent New Testament passages: Jesus' conversation with a young righteous scholar of the Mosaic Law and the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, respectively. Finally, I will suggest that, for Orthodox Christians, an important key to overcoming greed is disciplined asceticism, to be practiced by all persons and not simply by monks and nuns. Asceticism—the exercise of control over the passions through fasting, prayer, chastity (understood differently for married and unmarried persons), and almsgiving—is the vehicle by which to cultivate an attitude of apatheia or passionlessness, the Christian equivalent of the Buddhist ideal of detachment.Clement was a philosopher-theologian who headed the great Christian catechetical school in Alexandria in the late second century C.E. In his treatise Who IstheRich ManWhoWill Be Saved? 3 Clement mused on the spiritual and soteriological dimensions of greed by reflecting on Jesus' encounter with the wealthy young "lawyer," that is, scholar of the Mosaic Law, who questioned Jesus on how to acquire eternal life. In his response, the young man showed himself righteous in his adherence to the demands of the law, but ultimately unwilling to commit all of himself by giving away his property, even though Jesus said that it was the price to inherit eternal life.Clement pondered whether it were therefore possible for anyone wealthy to be saved, given Jesus' declaration that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man... (shrink)

The rapid development of complex income taxation and welfare systems in the 20th century may give the impression that progressive wealth redistribution systems are uniquely modern. However, religious systems provided similar mechanisms for addressing economic injustice and poverty alleviation centuries earlier. Zakat is the obligation of almsgiving and is the third pillar of Islam--a requirement for all believers. In the early development of the Islamic community, zakat was collected as a tax by the state and the funds were distributed (...) to a defined set of needy groups. As a theoretical matter, there are three insights that make zakat an especially relevant subject for modern legal scholars. First, zakat is an example of a modest wealth tax combined with an income tax that may be illustrative in the discourse regarding wealth taxes. Second, the jurisprudence of zakat supports the ethical conclusions of scholars who contend that property rights are attached to post rather than pre-tax income. Third, to the extent that zakat is considered a principal source of revenue for public programs, it might imply a limited role for government, focusing on equitable distribution of goods. This paper begins with a thorough evaluation and synthesis of the traditional Islamic jurisprudence related to zakat. The next section identifies three broad approaches to zakat adopted by modern Muslim states, with particular emphasis on ways that zakat is institutionalized legally. This is followed by an empirical analysis of the correlation of the approaches to zakat with individual income and wealth stratification. The article concludes with observations and policy recommendations related to zakat and broader legal theory based on the earlier qualitative analysis and empirical findings. (shrink)

Augustine’s interpretation of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus from Lk 16 shows how much the parables of Jesus are open to a variety of interpretations and applications depending upon which part of the parable is emphasised. In Augustine’s writings the second part of the parable only is commented upon (the exception being ep. 157) to illustrate points about the afterlife and the fate of the soul. However, in his homilies we find him engaging with both sections of (...) the parable (this life and the afterlife). We can note the dexterity with which Augustine handled diverse themes in the parable by selectively emphasising either the fate of the rich man in this life or the next or the fate of Lazarus in this life or the next. From these different perspectives Augustine could deal with questions of wealth and poverty either materially or spiritually. This research supports the notion that whatever Augustine had to say about almsgiving is to be understood within a soteriological context to urge his congregation to be rich in humility and poor in pride. (shrink)

The encounter between Jesus and the rich young man in Mt. 19,16-30 (with parallels in Mc. 10,17-31 and Lc. 18,18-30) provides the setting for the teachingon the attaining of perfection, which is presented as a three-step process: the selling of one’s possessions, the distribution of the proceeds to the poor, andthe following of Christ (Mt. 19,21; Mc. 10,21; Lc. 18,22; and the unique Lukan saying in 12,33). It was a passage to which Jerome appealed frequently in hiswritings and which Finn, (...) in his recent monograph, believes demonstrates Jerome’s extreme views. In this paper I shall examine Jerome’s references to this biblical passage in his letters and treatises to evaluate whether the first two steps in the process (self-dispossession and almsgiving) were consideredequally virtuous by Jerome. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Thomas Aquinas on the Metaphysics of the Human Act by Can Laurens LöweThomas M. Osborne Jr.Can Laurens Löwe. Thomas Aquinas on the Metaphysics of the Human Act. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021. Pp. 225. Hardback, $99.99.This book is about the way in which Thomas Aquinas understands the human act to be composed of form and matter. It provides a fresh reading of many central texts from Thomas and (...) addresses philosophical concerns that are relevant to the contemporary literature. Although Löwe is not clear about this point, Thomas does not use in this context the terms 'formal' and 'material' in the strictest sense, as when he describes the soul as the form of the body, but in different extended senses, as when he says that charity is the form of the other virtues because it gives them a new character (Summa Theologiae, II–II, q. 23, art. 8).Löwe focuses on choice, which he considers to be antecedent to the human act, and the commanded or exterior act, which he considers to be the entire human act. This focus simplifies his account, since in one and only one text—the Prima Secundae of the Summa Theologiae—does Thomas appear to give as many as twelve acts that are stages or phases of a complete human act. Thomas devotes special attention to three acts of the will concerning the end, namely simple willing, intention, and enjoyment; and three acts of the will concerning the means, namely consent, choice, and use; and two intellectual acts, namely deliberation and command. Four other possible phases or stages are mentioned in passing, such as the judgment of choice. According to the standard interpretation, a human [End Page 152] act such as almsgiving might consist of intending to help an indigent person, deliberating about whether to give food or money, making a judgment of choice about the best means of helping (such as giving money), choosing to give the money, and then commanding the will's use of certain other powers, such as the movement of the hands and feet. In his other writings, Thomas mentions only some of these stages, and he often mentions only simple willing, deliberation, and choice. Scholars disagree over the number and importance of the acts or parts of acts discussed in the Prima Secundae and how to integrate them with what Thomas says in other texts. Löwe argues that the human act is what Thomas describes as the act's execution; he claims that this act has the intellect's command for its extrinsic form, the will's use for its intrinsic form, and the commanded act for its matter.This book has three parts. Part 1 provides a general account of the author's view that choice explains the act's freedom even if it is not part of the resulting act. In part 2, Löwe gives a novel account of Thomas's claim that the judgment of the intellect gives form to the act of choice. He draws on the distinction that Thomists make (although Thomas is less clear) between the composition of terms, or the enunciative proposition, and the judgement, or judicative proposition. For instance, the statement 'carrots are orange' as an enunciative proposition might be entertained as doubtful or likely, or placed in a conditional statement. However, someone might assent to this same composition by judging that it is true. Löwe's account is confusing on this point, as he describes as "judgment" what his Thomists describe as the enunciative proposition, which is the composition of terms (38–41). Terminological difficulties aside, Löwe draws on what he sees as the related distinction between the content of a judgment and the attitude toward the judgment, using this distinction to describe the freedom of the judgment that precedes choice. The intellect composes different precepts and then assents to one of them. According to Löwe, Thomas thinks that the agent's ability to choose between different goods is reduced to the intellect's ability to assent to the content of one precept and not the content of another according to a kind of second-order... (shrink)

Contemporary philosophers often construe mercy as a supererogatory notion or a matter of punitive leniency. Yet it is false that no merciful actions are obligatory. Further, it is questionable whether mercy is really about punitive leniency, either exclusively or primarily. As an alternative to these accounts, I consider the view offered by St. Thomas Aquinas. He rejects the claim that we are never obligated to be merciful. Also, his view of mercy is not restricted to legal contexts. For him, mercy's (...) scope is considerably broader, as it concerns a wide range of needs and hardships to which human beings are vulnerable. Such a view, I submit, affords a kind of normative depth lacking in many contemporary accounts. Unlike those views that construe mercy as either a supererogatory or legal concept, Aquinas's account illuminates mercy's obligatory nature and encourages us to make mercy a more salient fixture of our moral lives. (shrink)