There are too many unqualified spokesmen of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahdo Church (EOTC) online. In contradistinction to them, here lies a modicum of the prolific work of Dr. Mehari Z. Worku, the most qualified spokesman of the EOTC. His credentials are uniquely in the traditional milieu of the EOTC and in academia. In the EOTC, he is a married deacon and a father, in good standing, who regularly chants the eucharistic liturgy and the liturgy of hours in the esteemed debre abay style, having had the foundation laid for him by his father who is a choirmaster in the capital city of Ethiopia, Addis Abeba. He is also regularly invited to teach and preach throughout his archdiocese, and others, fluently in Amharic and in English.

With Dr. Wendy L. Belcher, a professor of African literature at Princeton University, Dr. Jeremy R. Brown, a Curator of Eastern Christian Manuscripts at the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library, and Dr. Ralph Lee, the Research Director of the Oxford Research Institute for Mission and Innovation (ORIMI) and Research Tutor for Orthodox Mission at the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies (OCMS), he published a fresh translation of The Hatata Inquiries: Two Texts of Seventeenth-Century African Philosophy from Ethiopia about Reason, the Creator, and Our Ethical Responsibilities by Zara Yaqob and Walda Heywat Berlin. Walter de Gruyter. (2023). Again with Dr. Belcher, and others, he is the supermajority contributor to The Princeton Ethiopian, Eritrean, and Egyptian Miracles of Mary Project. On his own, he defended his dissertation with the Catholic University of America Department of Semitic and Egyptian Languages and Literatures regarding the 15th-century Ethiopian Orthodox Ecclesiology in Giyorgis of Sägla’s Mäṣhafä Mǝsṭir (2024). And has published Mary in the Poetic Theological Works of the Syriac Tradition: A study on Ephrem the Syrian, Jacob of Serugh and Narsai of Nisibis, in The Alexandria School Journal of Agora University Press (2021). With Dr. David B. Spielman, an assistant professor and historian of the Horn of Africa at NYU Gallatin, he has a forthcoming hagiography translation. And with me, he has a forthcoming hitherto unseen liturgy of hours and diatessaron.

The unqualified spokesmen of the EOTC have a habit of being faith fabulists, in general, but the intensity is ratcheted up with dervish fervor when it comes to: pork, circumcision, and the sabbath. Their brain breaks. They breathe out threats and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord. And yet, here lies before us a primary source of the 16th Century that settled this public matter with a decree (debar; logos) that comes down from the tall mountain as a senior admonishing juniors. Please do not listen to those who use vain repetitions thinking that they shall be heard for their much speaking. If you are curious about what the EOTC teaches on this matter, the matter of Judaizing false brethren in our midst, hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. And the horse is the 16th Century Emperor Claudius, king of kings of Ethiopia, and bane of Aḥmad Grāñ, “the leader of a Muslim movement that all but subjugated Ethiopia” (Encyclopaedia Brittanica) in a war of conquest for eleven years. Both Abune Gorgoryos (Gregory), the beloved 20th Century Archbishop of Shewa, and his universally recognized favorite student, whom the unqualified love to hate, Abune Barnabas, the current Archbishop of Southern California and Alaska point toward this primary source of Claudius in their spoken teachings and writings.

H.E. Negash, editor and foreworder.

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My second most-engaged ARB article was on the Lord’s Prayer in Ge’ez. In it, I link to Professor Mike Wingert’s, a friend of the show, audio-video Syriac vs. Ge’ez comparison and contrast. Here, I present it again, along with written notes from him. I love the fruits of collaboration, and hope you do too.

By: Dr. Michael Wingert, the Dean of Holy Transfiguration College & Associate Professor of Old Testament and Syriac Studies

Since publishing my video comparing Syriac and Ge’ez through the Lord’s Prayer, the topic has gained notoriety and some degree of virality online. We are even finding people stealing the footage and presenting it on their own channels (YouTube, TikTok, etc.) as their own. This testifies to an important demand by a number of communities who do not often cross paths these days: heritage communities from the Syriac and Tewahdo traditions, Semiticists and learners of Semitic languages, and those interested in the two living legacies of Semitic Christianity found in the East. If you are new to either the Syriac or Ge’ez languages and traditions, you will be amazed at the insight embedded in these local Semitic expressions of the Lord’s Prayer.

Syriac and Geʿez are two of the most fascinating ancient Semitic languages many people have never encountered. Both are theological languages that shaped Christian liturgy and thought for centuries. Syriac is the classical literary dialect of Aramaic centered on Edessa (modern Urfa). Geʿez, often called Classical Ethiopic in academic circles, was the language of the ancient Ethiopian court and remains the liturgical language of the Ethiopian and Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Churches and related traditions.

I have long thought of Geʿez as a kind of African Aramaic. I find it very familiar, yet there is a distinct African character to it. Moreover, even as a ferenji (foreigner), I feel very at home in the Qidase (the Ge’ez language Orthodox liturgy) and among Orthodox Ethiopian and Eritrean culture. Sure, many of the exterior qualities between the Syriac and peoples of the Tewahedo tradition may be different, but the interior vibe is not at all foreign to me. It is a Semitic cousin.

Background on the Languages

Syriac is not a separate language from the broader Aramaic continuum; it is a standardized regional variant that became the written norm for much of late-antique Aramaic-speaking Christianity. Think of it like the difference between standardized London English used in official writing and a rural dialect such as Appalachian English. The Aramaic Jesus spoke (often associated with Galilean varieties) would have been related but not identical to classical Syriac.

Geʿez is categorized as a South Semitic language, but still related to the Northwest Semitic languages like Hebrew, Aramaic, Arabic, and Akkadian. Its writing system is uniquely African, derived from Old South Arabian but developed into a syllabary (abugida) rather than a pure alphabet. This makes it visually and structurally different from the alphabetic Syriac script. Ethiopia has sometimes been called “Africa’s Tibet” because of its dense network of monasteries and ascetic traditions; Geʿez is the language of that worship.

Both languages frame reality in theological terms. Understanding either one opens windows onto how early Christian communities conceptualized God, prayer, debt/sin, testing, and deliverance.

The Lord’s Prayer Side by Side

In the original video I invited my friend Dcn. Alemesilasé to recite the prayer in Geʿez, followed by my own recitation in classical Syriac using the Western pronunciation (the Eastern reading exists as well and can be explored separately). Laying the texts side by side immediately reveals strong structural parallels, especially at the beginning, with divergences growing more interesting toward the middle and end.

We then walk through the prayer line by line, noting shared morphology, phonological shifts, cognate roots, and connections to Hebrew, Arabic, Akkadian, and modern descendants such as Amharic or Tigrinya.

Our Father who is in heaven
The openings are nearly identical. Shared elements include the first-person common plural suffix (“our”), relative markers, and the word for heaven/sky (Syriac šmayā / related forms; Geʿez samāyāt). Minor differences appear in prepositions and exact relative constructions (d- versus za- type markers, b- prepositions).

May your name be holy / hallowed
Possessive suffixes for “your” (2ms) align closely. The key shift is šmā (Syriac/Aramaic/Hebrew “name,” with š) versus Geʿez səm (with s). This š → s pattern is common between Aramaic/Hebrew on one side and Arabic/Ethiopic on the other. Note also the Syriac imperfect 3ms prefix n- (instead of the more widespread Semitic y-), a feature shared with certain other Aramaic dialects; older Aramaic and most other Semitic languages prefer y-.

May your kingdom come
Again the 2ms possessive is shared. The Syriac verb timṭē (or related forms from a root connected to arriving/finding) has parallels in Hebrew māṣāʾ (“find”) and Akkadian usages meaning “be able.” Geʿez leans toward a root closer to Hebrew yāṣāʾ / Akkadian waṣû (“go out / bring out”), giving a slightly different nuance of motion or emergence. For “kingdom,” Geʿez productively uses forms related to nəguś (king; also carrying connotations of ruler or even taskmaster in some Semitic contexts), though malkut also exists.

May your will be done
Syriac employs nehwē (“be”) + ṣebyānā / peqādā-type terms for will, desire, or command. Geʿez emphasizes the command/will aspect similarly. The comparative “as in heaven, so on earth” uses parallel structures and particles.

Give us this day our daily bread
The root for “give” is widely shared (hab / related forms from a common Semitic base also seen in Hebrew yāhab). “Daily” or “necessary for existence” involves distributive or sustenance ideas; in wheat-growing regions this is bread, while broader Semitic usage can point to daily provision more generally. Geʿez has forms that highlight the “for the day” or “necessary” sense.

Forgive us our debts / sins… as we forgive…
Syriac often uses ḥawbē or ḥṭāhē for debts/offenses, with semantic ties to concepts of uncleanness or binding in some interpretive traditions. Geʿez includes parallel or expanded phrasing that may reflect the blending of Matthean and Lukan versions (a phenomenon also visible in Syriac liturgical tradition). Shared coordinating particles (w- “and”) appear throughout.

Do not lead us into temptation / testing… but deliver us from evil
Syriac uses a prohibitive with lā + forms related to entering testing (nesyōnā). (Note: in the original video a brief typo appeared around the 26–27 minute mark regarding the spelling/root of this word; the correct root is nsy “to test/try,” linking neatly to Geʿez mənśut / related forms for temptation or trial. The pinned correction clarifies this.) Geʿez sometimes adds an address to the Lord and uses cognate testing vocabulary. “Deliver/rescue” employs shared prepositions and roots for saving or extricating (paṣṣē / ʾadn type forms). “Evil” can be abstract (bišā “evil/unclean”) or more personified depending on the tradition.

For yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.
The doxology (present in many liturgical versions though text-critically secondary in the earliest Greek manuscripts) again shows shared possessives and roots for glory/praise (šbḥ and cognates). The closing “forever and ever” and Amen are characteristically Semitic liturgical seals.

Insights We Observe from the Comparison

The overall architecture of the prayer is remarkably stable across these two languages. Shared morphology (especially suffixes and many particles), cognate roots for core theological vocabulary (give, forgive, test, deliver, kingdom, name, heaven), and parallel syntactic patterns demonstrate their common Semitic inheritance. Differences arise from regular sound shifts (š/s), dialectal innovations (Syriac n- imperfect), writing-system divergence (alphabetic vs. syllabic), and occasional lexical preferences or liturgical expansions.

These are not isolated phenomena. The same patterns appear when we bring Hebrew, Arabic, or Akkadian into the conversation. For speakers of modern Ethiopian languages (Amharic, Tigrinya) or Neo-Aramaic varieties, many forms will feel immediately recognizable.

Geʿez continues as a living liturgical language in Ethiopian and Eritrean churches and monasteries. Syriac remains central to several Eastern Christian traditions and is studied by anyone serious about the Aramaic background of early Christianity and the literature of the Church of the East, Syriac Orthodox, and related communities.

If you know Hebrew, Arabic, modern Aramaic dialects, Amharic, Tigrinya, or Geʿez itself, your observations and corrections are always welcome. Languages like these reward collaborative attention.

This written version expands the original video discussion. For the recitations, the visual side-by-side texts, and the spoken analysis (including the note on the brief typo), watch the full video.

Further exploration of Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa can be found via related discussions on the Philosophy of Art and Science podcast (Example 1, Example 2, Example 3). I encourage all readers to take up studying both Syriac and Geʿez, not only for their historical importance, but for the distinctive theological lenses they offer.

These are my microsteps in religion.

My parents had me baptized Orthodox, but it seemed to be more by the will of my paternal grandmother and maternal great aunt, both of whom spent 1-2 years helping my mom with me as a baby before returning to Ethiopia, than by their own will. My parents took me to Christmas and Epiphany/Theophany and Pascha (Easter). But there was no regular prayer in our home, nor regular Sunday service attendance. Prayer was relegated to Thanksgiving and Christmas, again where the will of their elders reigned supreme. Two of my paternal aunts were at various times presidents of the parish council, and took me to church about once a month, at my behest, till I was about thirteen years old. From fourteen to twenty, I did not step foot inside an Orthodox church, but explored Protestant and Catholic ones, especially in college. Since age twenty-one, I returned and never looked back.

I went to an evangelical-run though not explicitly evangelical Montessori School from Pre-K through 1st Grade. I went to a Lutheran Middle School with weekly chapel and a bible study class every year. The best year was seventh grade, in which our teacher who lived in a trailer park had us write 100 words on scripture daily. I went to a deist (nature’s god, type shit) high school, reminiscent of New England transcendentalism. I completed my undergraduate studies in Political Science and Western Philosophy at a Church of Christ university that required three semesters of religious study and weekly chapel attendance. I studied the Hebrew Bible (the Old Testament), the New Testament, and the Philosophy of Religion there.

I learned directly from his beatitude Archbishop Barnabas’, of Southern California and Alaska, sermons and indirectly from him by spending a ton of time with him. One day, Godwilling, I will translate his book Sima Tewahdo (Tewahdo Testimony). Likewise with Chief amongst the Elect Fr. Dr. Melaku Baweqe Terefe, the spiritual and biological father of Dcn. Mihret Melaku, a friend of the show. Both Archbishop Barnabas and Fr. Melaku taught frequently at my home parish, Virgin Mary’s EOTC in South Central Los Angeles.

I listened to nearly every episode of Search the Scriptures, by Presvytera and Dr. Jeannie Constantinou. And have read her translation of St. Andrew of Caesarea’s commentary on Revelation, a guide to a blessed end. I spent six months reading aloud the Hebrew Bible in Biblical Hebrew (stressing the consonantal text above all else) under the auspices of The Very Rev. Fr. Dr. Paul Nadim Tarazi, “a professor at St. Vladimir’s Seminary for more than forty years before his retirement in 2014. He taught courses in Old and New Testament, Biblical Hebrew and Greek, and Academic Arabic.” He is the mastermind behind the Orthodox Center for the Advancement of Biblical Studies (OCABS) and The Ephesus School Network (of which my broadcast Tewahido Bible Study is a small part). He graciously taught me for free, with only the expectation that I teach and preach and write books. And by the sponsorship of Finote Wongel, I took one Summer Introduction to the Old Testament course at the aforementioned St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary under Dr. Michael Legaspi, a contributor, with his essay Wisdom is the Preservation of Life, to Festschrift in Honor of Professor Paul Nadim Tarazi- Volume 1: Studies in the Old Testament (Bible in the Christian Orthodox Tradition).

Continuing this trend, I religiously follow the work of Agora University’s Holy Transfiguration College (online but based in Washington D.C.) and the Sts. Athanasius and Cyril (of Alexandria) Theological School (ACTS; online but based in Southern California). If I had unlimited time and money, I would begin with certificates in scripture from both, and consider a Phd. in the Hebrew Bible. Today, I saw this from ACTS’ Instagram, and was inspired to exegete for you all:

Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you (Luke 1:28)

They do not cite the version here, but it looks like the Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (and just a tense off from the Douay-Rheims, thee vs. you). I am a beginner of Hebrew, in Greek I know nothing other than occasional words I have memorized over time. But two resources I use to look at the words in their original tongue, a concept I picked up from Fr. Paul Tarazi, are the Mounce Reverse Interlinear New Testament on biblegateway.com and biblehub.com’s Greek tab. Let us use both.

εὐθέως (eutheos; immediately; at once), a word I read aloud over forty times in studying the Gospel According to Mark, Mounce tells me the verse reads: chairo charitoo ho kyrios meta sy. And biblehub says, chaire kecharitomene ho kyrios meta sou. I do not understand what the philosophies behind the difference in presentation of these two transliterations of the Biblical Greek are, but the latter seems to my lay eyes more clear. However, in both, I can clearly see that the two words rendered into English as hail and full of grace share the same root word.

There are two general philosophies of translation, the literal (word-for-word) and the dynamic (thought-for-thought). A literal translation may be, “Grace to you, graceful one, the Lord is with you.” And “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you,” is dynamic. The Ge’ez (Classical Ethiopic) reads,

ተፈሥሒ ፍሥሕት ፡ ኦ ምልዕተ ጸጋ ፤ እግዚአብሔር ምስሌኪ

tefesihee fisihit o milite tsega igzeeabhér mslékee

Why split the disputed baby of the two whores (1 Kings 3:16-end)? The Ge’ez chooses instead to father two babies: literal and dynamic.

“Rejoice, joyful one, o full of grace, the Lord is with you.”

The Ge’ez recognizes the cheer and joy in the Greek root charis, from whence we also get the English word charisma. It also recognizes the intentional figura etymologica, a multiword figure of speech in which two different words share a root, by the Greek author and/or editor (famously in Genesis 2:17 מות תמות mot tamut dying you will die, instead of the dynamic you shall surely die). It follows this figura etymologica literally with “rejoice, joyful one” and adds the dynamic “o full of grace”.

The American language would find this synonymic parallelism redundant and exhausting. But in the semitic heart, the throne of thoughts, this extraness and superfluity is used as a teaching tool to emphasize parts of a text which are to be read aloud to a predominately illiterate community, easing memorization over time as it reappears again-and-again when we submit our ears that hear to the lectionary.

I learned from Bishop Robert Barron, the Roman Catholic bishop of the Diocese of Winona-Rochester, Minnesota, an author, a speaker, and a theologian, to always engage the culture. Spider-Man is the culture. So, here are two words: on functionality and on love.

This will be spoiler-filled, so if you are amongst the few who have not seen the film yet, bookmark this for later. Unless, you do not mind spoilers. In that case, keep reading, dear reader.

The Department of Damage Control (DODC), a shadowy government organization that does research and development on mutants and on those with superpowers in general, practices biblical functionality. Plato, the 4th Century B.C. Greek philosopher, taught the opposite of functionality which is essentialism. Essentialism says that there is an unchanging ideal form of everything under the sun which exists in an abstract world and is instantiated imperfectly in our world. Under such a paradigm, you might see heroes and villains as essentially one or the other.

This is not how DODC works nor how the bible works. DODC rehabilitates the Hand, an organization of villainous ninjas that appeared in Daredevil, Ironfist, and The Defenders (adding Luke Cage and Jessica Jones), and various confiscated technologies of captured villains. This is functional. Likewise the bible does not have an essential view of: a lion, a snake, or lucifer, the morning star. The Devil is a lion (1 Peter 5:8), and Jesus is a lion (Revelation 5:5). The Devil is a snake (Genesis 3), and Jesus is a snake (John 3:14; Numbers 21:5-9). The Devil is lucifer (Isaiah 14:12), and Jesus is lucifer (2 Peter 1:19).

What is love? Frank, the Punisher, learns what love is from Spider-Man. The Punisher and Spider-Man have two different modus operandi. The former is an anti-hero, and the latter is a hero. The former is a killer, and the latter is your friendly neighbor who will ensnare you in some webs if you are a bad boy.

Jean Gray is the central villain, for awhile, before the twist that DODC is up to some questionable human experimentation that may have led to the death of Jean’s older sister Sarah. Spider-Man finds himself to be an unwilling participant in this government plot, and so whereas he initially helped capture Jean, he then feels remorse and comes to save her. Only, she does not need saving as the trauma of finding out what happened to her sister unlocks an accelerated evolution of her powers of telepathy, mind-control, and telekinesis.

As an aside, before her character was revealed I was sure the villain was about to be Kilgrave from Jessica Jones since the mind-control was so grotesque. It even reminded me of Sylar from Heroes. I was wrong. So, kudos to the writer and the director for keeping me on my toes.

MJ, Spider-Man’s love-interest who lost her memories, pushes The Punisher to go help Spider-Man. The Punisher finds a building roof outside of the new 1 km range, formerly 33 ft, of Jean’s powers, and readies his sniper rifle. He has the shot on Jean, and he takes the shot. Spider-Man’s heightened (from removing his inhibitor and going almost full arachnid) spidey senses go-off, and he saves Jean by taking the bullet for her.

This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. You are My friends if you do whatever I command you. (John 15:12-14 NKJV).

Thanks to Jean’s telekinetic help, and Spider-Man’s own superpowers, Spider-Man, though greatly wounded, lives. He has a heartwarming scene of gentle laughter with The Punisher where he chides his über-manly friend for crying. And as The Punisher denies crying, he tells Spider-Man that what he did was the bravest and most courageous thing he has ever seen. And he has seen a lot of bravery and courage in myriad deployments as a special operations veteran.

There is no greater love.

In common parlance, there is a positive connotation to saying, “so-and-so is a pillar of the community. A pillar of the community is “One who is a particularly active, respected, and influential member of one’s local social sphere. My grandfather was a pillar of the community because of how many people his businesses employed. She was long considered a pillar of the community, so she won the mayoral election with ease” (Farlex Dictionary of Idioms. © 2024 Farlex, Inc, all rights reserved.).

But, it is written, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9 NKJV). The Lord is not pleased with human building and construction. And pillars are the example par excellence of human building and construction.

We present, in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahdo Church, our dogmas as five pillars of mystery. I do not know how long we have presented them this way, but it is supposed to symbolize strength and fortitude and resistance against winds (spirits; false teachers) that blow this way and that way. We also have baptismal names like amde-brhan (pillar of light) and amde-tsyon (pillar of Zion) and amde-haymanot (pillar of faith) and amde-werq (pillar of gold) et cetera, et cetera. And yet from Genesis to Galatians, a different picture is painted about pillars.

Then the men said to Lot, “Have you anyone else here? Son-in-law, your sons, your daughters, and whomever you have in the city—take them out of this place! For we will destroy this place, because the outcry against them has grown great before the face of the Lord, and the Lord has sent us to destroy it.”

So Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who had married his daughters, and said, “Get up, get out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city!” But to his sons-in-law he seemed to be joking.

When the morning dawned, the angels urged Lot to hurry, saying, “Arise, take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be consumed in the punishment of the city.” And while he lingered, the men took hold of his hand, his wife’s hand, and the hands of his two daughters, the Lord being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city. So it came to pass, when they had brought them outside, that he said, “Escape for your life! Do not look behind you nor stay anywhere in the plain. Escape to the mountains, lest you be destroyed.”

Then Lot said to them, “Please, no, my lords! Indeed now, your servant has found favor in your sight, and you have increased your mercy which you have shown me by saving my life; but I cannot escape to the mountains, lest some evil overtake me and I die. See now, this city is near enough to flee to, and it is a little one; please let me escape there (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live.”

And he said to him, “See, I have favored you concerning this thing also, in that I will not overthrow this city for which you have spoken. Hurry, escape there. For I cannot do anything until you arrive there.”

Therefore the name of the city was called Zoar.

The sun had risen upon the earth when Lot entered Zoar. Then the Lord rained brimstone and fire on Sodom and Gomorrah, from the Lord out of the heavens. So He overthrew those cities, all the plain, all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground.

But his wife looked back behind him,

and she became a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:12-26 NKJV).

Just as the black character in a horror film is fated to die first, woe to the nameless characters in scripture! See Lot’s wife. See the rich man clothed in purple and fine linen living in luxury everyday (Luke 16:19-end). “IGBBMN.”

The sin of Lot’s wife was looking back to what the Lord had already decided to destroy. We are not more holy and more perfect than the Lord. We do not decide who to save and who to destroy. Only he does. The Zeitgeist, the ghost of this age, is particularly interested in trying to save all. There is a part of this intention which is good, but there is also a part which is evil. It is good to want all people to be saved. It is evil to want this so badly as to overturn the decision of the Lord.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, in his nineteenth catechetical lecture and first on the mysteries, says, “Have you not heard the old history which tells us of Lot and his daughters? Was not he himself saved with his daughters, when he had gained the mountain, while his wife became a pillar of salt, set up as a monument for ever, in remembrance of her depraved will and her turning back. Take heed therefore to yourself, and turn not again to what is behind , having put your hand to the plough, and then turning back to the salt savour of this life’s doings; but escape to the mountain, to Jesus Christ, that stone hewn without hands (Daniel 2:35,45), which has filled the world” (New Advent).

Then after fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem with Barnabas, and also took Titus with me. And I went up by revelation, and communicated to them that gospel which I preach among the Gentiles, but privately to those who were of reputation, lest by any means I might run, or had run, in vain. Yet not even Titus who was with me, being a Greek, was compelled to be circumcised. And this occurred because of false brethren secretly brought in (who came in by stealth to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage), to whom we did not yield submission even for an hour, that the truth of the gospel might continue with you.

But from those who seemed to be something—whatever they were, it makes no difference to me; God shows personal favoritism to no man—for those who seemed to be something added nothing to me. But on the contrary, when they saw that the gospel for the uncircumcised had been committed to me, as the gospel for the circumcised was to Peter (for He who worked effectively in Peter for the apostleship to the circumcised also worked effectively in me toward the Gentiles), and when Jacob, Cephas, and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that had been given to me, they gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship, that we should go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised (Galatians 2:1-9 NKJV).

Paul seamlessly shifts between calling the former chief of the apostles Peter and Cephas. Peter is the Indoeuropean way of saying The Rock, whereas Cephas is the Afroasiatic way. When he switches to Aramaic, the Afroasiatic way, it is a dig against Cephas. Jacob, Cephas, and John were the chiefs amongst the apostles of The Way, but here they were found to be tergiversating. Paul, the last and the least of all the apostles, became the first and greatest by steadfastly and doggedly holding onto that family heirloom which is the apostolic teaching—no matter who you are, or what your kind is, you must sit together with sundry folks at the one table (trapeza) of the Lord (kyrie) Jesus Christ.

Do not be a pillar. Do not craft an abomination of desolation.

Let the reader understand.

I read the Robert Fagles translation, a verse translation, of The Odyssey (Nov. 29, 1999. Penguin Classics. 541 pgs.) in the 2004/2005 school year as a high school freshman. That is enough time to appreciate Nolan’s film without glaring too hard at it. And now I hear the siren song of E.V. Rieu’s translation (1946 then Mar. 10, 2010, updated by his son D.C.H. Rieu. The first of the Penguin Classics. 416 pgs.), a prose translation, which has been sitting on my shelf patiently, till I watch the film.

And watch the film, by Chris Nolan, I did. Two words. First, because of the length of time since I read the book and the situation (high school) of my initial reading, these are terse reflections on the film itself and not the book. I will have to address the book at a later date. Second, I am predisposed to loving Chris Nolan for: Memento (2000), The Prestige, The Batman trilogy (aughts and teens), Inception (2010), and Oppenheimer (2023). The Prestige and Inception are in my top five all time, and all of these films place a high value on trickery and deception.

The Odyssey (2026. 2 hrs 53 mins.)

Let us quickly look at five things: Zeus’ law, Hades, the drinking of animals’ blood, blind sages, and vengeance.

Xenia, the law of hospitality enforced by Zeus the skygod and father of all gods and goddesses in the Greek pantheon, with obvious parallels across all the Indo-European folk religions, is ripe for comparison and contrast with hospitality in the Hebrew Bible (Genesis 18:1-15), the Old Testament, and later the one, holy, universal, and apostolic church which gathered at Nicaea and Constantinople.

God appeared to him by the oak of Mambre, while he was seated before his tent at noon. Observe here the virtue of the righteous one. He was sitting in front of his tent. He practiced so much hospitality that he left none of his inferiors to take in strangers. This old man, who had three hundred and eighteen servants, who was overwhelmed by age, since he had reached a hundred years, was seated at his door to wait for guests. He put all his attention into it, without finding any obstacle in his old age or in the care of his repose; he did not lie inside, but sat at the door. Many others, far from having such care, seek instead to escape the sight and approach of strangers, for fear of being forced to receive them in spite of themselves. Such was not the righteous man who sat at his door at noon. For his hospitality and his virtue are all the more admirable as he stood at noon. That was right; he knew, in fact, that those who are forced to travel have, especially at this hour, need of assistance; so he chose this moment of the day and watched passers-by, putting his rest to relieve the fatigue of the travelers. He sought to shelter in his tent those burned by the heat, without examining the passers-by and not asking if they were known or unknown. For hospitality does not admit of such a search, it demands with all a benevolent tolerance, and, as he had displayed the net of hospitality, he deserved to receive the Almighty with his angels. So St. Paul said: Let us not neglect hospitality; it is by practicing it that some have received as angels hosts without knowing it (Heb. 13:2); it is clear that this is an allusion to the patriarch. So Christ said, “He who receives one of the least in my name, receives me.” (Mt. 18:5)

-St. John Goldenmouth

Although Abraham ran from the tent toward them as if toward strangers, he ran to receive those strangers with love. His love for strangers was thus proved by the haste with which he ran to meet those strangers. Therefore the Lord, who had just appeared to him at the door of the tent, now appeared to Abraham clearly in one of the three. Abraham then fell down and worshiped him, seeking from him in whom majesty dwells that he condescend to enter his house and bless his dwelling. “If I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant.” God did not oppose him, for he said, “Do as you have said.” Then Abraham ran to Sarah [telling her] to make three measures of wheat, and then he ran to the herd to get a fatted calf.

-Lord Ephrem the Syrian

For comparison and contrast, we can ask Greek folk religion and Judeo-Christianity the following questions: What are the due measures and bounds of hosting guests and strangers and enemies? How does the duty of the host differ from the duty of the guest? And like Undercover Boss (2009), how would you act if the guest you are entertaining happens to be a god?

A principle of Rugby Football, as practiced at American universities, is hospitality toward your perceived enemies. No matter how much one side dominates another on the pitch, no matter what words are exchanged prior to the final whistle, after the game, both teams gather at a location the host team selects and on the dime of the host eat pizza and drink beer to their heart’s desire. In four years of collegiate Rugby, the bad blood of only one game we played led to no peace meal afterward.

The law must be honored.

Traduttore, traditore, a modern era Italian near homophone pair meaning translator, traitor, and the grandson of Jesus ben Sira, a translator, in the Old Greek of the Old Greek Hebrew Bible witnesses to the level of skepticism we should have of any translator. Trust me, I am a professional translator ;)

Many great teachings have been given to us through the Law and the Prophets and the others that followed them, and for these we should praise Israel for instruction and wisdom. Now those who read them must not only themselves understand them but must also as lovers of learning be able through both speaking and writing to help the outsiders. So my grandfather Jesus, who had devoted himself especially to the reading of the Law and the Prophets and the other books of our ancestors and had acquired considerable proficiency in them, was himself also led to write something pertaining to instruction and wisdom, so that by becoming familiar also with his book those who love learning might make even greater progress in living according to the law.You are invited, therefore, to read it with goodwill and attention and to be indulgent in cases where we may seem to have rendered some phrases imperfectly, despite our diligent labor in translating. For what was originally expressed in Hebrew does not have exactly the same effect when translated into another language. Not only this book, but even the Law itself, the Prophets, and the rest of the books differ not a little when read in the original.

(Sirach 1:1-25 New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition)

Hades in The Odyssey is a physical place reachable by boat, but also a metaphysical and supernatural place of the dead. Hades in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament should not be interpreted in light of Greek folk religion. Instead, it should be seen as a translation of Sheol, the place of the dead in the Hebrew of the Hebrew Bible. Nevertheless, the way in which in the film it is an actual physical place grounded in reality from which the spiritual place of torment can be explained works well.

The ritual drinking of the blood of animals in order to speak in Hades gives us some of the greatest contrast between paganism and Christianity. Over the past year I have taught extensively on the Acts of the Apostles, Galatians, and Romans in my Sunday School and Summer Camp programs in the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. The crux of a dispute between Judean Christians and Gentile Christians, which in at least one case led to the dastardly neglect of widows (Acts 6:1), had to do with defining the necessary and sufficient conditions of being a Christian and keeping the five books of Moses. Twice in the first ever synodal meeting (Acts 15:19, 29) the Gentile Christians are commanded by their lords the Apostles, the Judean Christian leaders hand-selected and hand-picked by the Lord Jesus, to at least “abstain from things polluted by idols, from fornication, from things strangled, and from blood.” There is life in blood. And we should at minimum avoid drinking it and eating it.

In the film, we have the motif of blind sages in Teiresias, the prophet in Hades, and Eumaeus (played by John Leguizamo) the blind but loyal swine herder in Ithaca. The Ethiopian Orthodox Church has a history of making space for and highly valuing blind sages, as Odysseus (played by Matt Damon) does but the suitors fail to do. The Ethiopian Orthodox Church teaches that though their vision on the outside, the veranda, may be out, their inner lights shine bright, sometimes even brighter than normal. She places a high value on those who acquire wisdom through hardship. And even though it is easier today with all of the technology available, it is still not an easy task to do. And so their wisdom puts to shame all of us able-bodied believers, and should inspire us to greatness and excellence in seeking the Lord and pursuing him.

Spoiler Alert:

The film ends with the iconic plucking of the string of Odysseus’ bow, an instant classic cinematic meme (my favorite comparisons are to millennial dads being challenged by their children to play console shooting games and thus they pluck their controller, the sticks). This is a task only a great man like him could complete, and thus it verifies his identity to the mangy suitors and to his patient wife Penelope (played by Anne Hathaway). “To the one… the aroma of death leading to death, and to the other the aroma of life leading to life” (2 Corinthians 2:16 NKJV). Odysseus makes quick work of his enemies with his bow, with functionally no help from his son. It is a bloodbath. They never had a chance.

But “Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord” (Romans 12:19 NKJV). And “When He opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the testimony which they held. And they cried with a loud voice, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, until You judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” Then a white robe was given to each of them; and it was said to them that they should rest a little while longer, until both the number of their fellow servants and their brethren, who would be killed as they were, was completed” (Revelation 6:9-11 NKJV).

“This is a hard saying; who can understand it?” (John 6:60 NKJV)

In the days of old, there were blog rolls. We do not really have that, but if we did, I would send you regularly to Jonathan Pageau, a friend of the show and the master of interpreting the symbolic world.

Deacon Nahom Solomon Mulugeta of Dallas and Houston and Adees Abeba has written a review of a book by one of my favorite pivotal players in Ethiopian history, the ambassador and the Lord of the Royal Court Pages Hiruy Welde-Silasé (1878-1938). If the monarchy in Ethiopia were restored, I could be a Right-Commander (like my great-grandfather) or an ambassador (like my grandfather), but I might rather fancy being the Lord of the Pages, like Hiruy.

As soon as I showed interest in Ethiopian history, as a late teenager, my baba (father) introduced me to Hiruy’s oeuvre. Hiruy faithfully served the Ethiopian Empire and tried to wed members of its Solomonid Dynasty with members of the Japanese Imperial Family… ruined by the Japanese signing of the Anti-Comintern Pact with Fascist Italy, and Nazi Germany, who had invaded Ethiopia for a second time in 1935. O what could have been! Hiruy is most known as the prolific author of no less than 28 books in Amharic, the tongue of the king. God grant me a fourth of his prolificity! And may this review be dedicated to his late granddaughter Mrs. Zizi, an active parishioner of my home parish, and the home parish of Dcn. Mihret Melaku, the Virgin Mary’s EOTC in South Central Los Angeles, CA.

by: Dcn. Nahom Solomon Mulugeta

Before I begin writing a review of this short book, let me explain why I was drawn to it in the first place.

For a long time, I noticed a discrepancy within Christian church services. A preacher shares a passage from Scripture, elaborates on its moral meaning, and explains how the congregation ought to live. Yet, more often than not, people walk away having learned very little.

Or worse, they spend the entire sermon counting down the minutes until it is over.

When I first witnessed this, it scandalized me. Granted, we cannot expect people to undergo dramatic transformation in a matter of minutes or hours. That is simply not how behavioral change works (barring exceptional cases).

Rather, transformation comes through the consistent, lifelong practice of redirecting oneself toward the good, one small step at a time.

King Solomon said it best:

Train children in the right way, and when old, they will not stray. (Proverbs 22:6)

Training is the operative word. Anyone who has trained seriously knows that one session is never enough to shape a person.

I thank God that I was born Ethiopian because that “right way” was made visible to me through the lives of my parents and the small community around me.

Not that Ethiopia is some utopia where nothing ever goes wrong, but rather that things going wrong were never considered a reason to abandon one’s responsibility or cease doing one’s part well. As a consequence, there remained pockets of Ethiopian society that did not completely unravel under whatever chaotic narrative happened to be popular at the time.

I can say this because I both lived in and visited these communities of cultural stability.

We enter this book to catch a glimpse of that deep, beautiful, and lived culture.

Who is the author?

Melake Brhan (Angel of Light) Admasu Jenbere, a well-known scholar of the Ethiopian Church in the twentieth century, wrote in his book ኰክሐ ሃይማኖት (kwekiha haymanot; the Rock of Faith) about the importance of a preface and introduction. A book, he argues, should not be read simply because it exists or is readily available. Before taking an author’s words seriously, one ought to examine the author’s character and test it against reality.

In keeping with that principle, here is part of Emperor Haile Selassie I’s address upon the passing of the author:

“This man (Hiruy) is one who grew up with good upbringing and is numbered among the highest scholars of Ethiopia… I stand before you wondering how I can briefly speak of the heights of his virtue. He spent all of his time striving to do good, seeking to help the desolate before considering himself. I remember his devotion to truth, his reverence for justice, and how his heart burned with love for his country and for his fellow man.”

A Brief History of Hiruy

Gebre Mesqel (Thrall of the Cross) was born on May 2, 1877 (Ethiopian Calendar). Little is publicly available about his parents, although it is known that his father died when Hiruy was only thirteen years old.

During his childhood, he became known for both his diligence in study and his exemplary character. His teacher, Welde Giorgis (Son of George), renamed him “Hiruy,” a Ge’ez word meaning “chosen,” as a testimony to his exceptional character.

Hiruy passed away while living in exile in England in 1938.

(For those interested in learning more about his life, please see the bibliography.)

Preface

The book opens with a greeting addressed to the author’s son, Feqade Selassie (the Will of the Trinity).

Originally, this work was written as a personal letter to his son before eventually becoming a book cherished by all who have read it.

Hiruy begins by lamenting the death of his father. He expresses his gratitude for everything his father had done for him and his deep desire to have cared for him longer.

Although he is overwhelmed with grief, he finds comfort in a thought that stopped me in my tracks.

He writes:

“But since the thoughts of God and the thoughts of man are as separate as the heavens and the earth, I know that the Lord will grant that we reunite in the next life.”

This immediately reminded me of Isaiah 55:8–9 NKJV.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.

His use of Scripture as a natural idiom—something he does repeatedly throughout the book—reveals just how deeply the Scriptures had become woven into his thinking.

My Favorite Proverbs from the Book

1. Do not worry too much.

If there is one theme repeated throughout this book, it is that one ought not to worry excessively about how life unfolds.

This principle appears in many contexts: worrying about recognition, status, the state of the world, or why human relationships are the way they are.

Hiruy is convinced that nothing happens apart from the will of God and that every plan his son makes will unfold differently than expected. He therefore encourages his son to accept life’s redirections for what they are instead of living in constant anxiety.

2. How to Handle Gossip

As someone who has occasionally had to deal with rumors, I found this chapter especially helpful.

Hiruy recommends two approaches to handling gossip.

The first is patience. Simply let it be. Accept that people will always talk and refuse to let their words disturb your peace.

This is probably the advice most people will find hardest to follow. There is something deeply disorienting about watching your character be dragged through the mud. Yet those who have endured it know that there truly is life beyond the rumor. Eventually, the weight of it fades into little more than an annoyance. Looking back, you may even be surprised by how much time and emotional energy you invested in something that no longer matters.

If patience is not possible because you are in the thick of the situation, Hiruy recommends addressing it directly. Be completely honest with those who have received false information about you. Doing so accomplishes two things: the person spreading the rumor loses credibility, and you regain control of the narrative.

However, this approach comes with its own cost. It inevitably involves more people in your personal affairs, and if there is one thing experience teaches, it is that inviting others into your private dealings is rarely free.

Conclusion

In closing, I found myself struck by the tension Hiruy consistently maintains throughout the book. His outlook reminds me of a saying often attributed to Saint Augustine:

“Pray as though everything depends on God. Work as though everything depends on you.”

The final lines of the book beautifully capture this same spirit:

“My son, I have written to the best of my ability according to my experience and understanding. But nothing happens without the will of God. Therefore, I pray that His perfect will be fulfilled in your life. Amen.”

That sentence, more than any other, encapsulates the wisdom that runs throughout the entire book.

Subdeacon Moses aka Charles Barjon II was the most recent guest on my almost defunct broadcast the Philosophy of Art and Science (POAAS 152). They say the average broadcast lasts only seven episodes, so, I would say we have had a good run.

One of the fundamental questions in the philosophy of art is whether or not you can separate art from the artist. Today, nobody makes people think critically about this more than Kanye West. In the late aughts, Michael Jackson was the example par excellence. Around that time, Dave Chappelle had a comedy sketch in which a character he plays, in response to being asked in court by a lawyer whether or not he thinks Michael Jackson is guilty says, “No, man. He made thriller.” This is a caricature of the argument which still contains a kernel of truth. The publishing of this film review is not meant to adjudicate the accusations made against him, nor the millions of dollars in settlements thereof. Instead, it is a reflection on his greatness.

Written by: Charles Barjon II

“A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life.”

― Michael Jackson, Dancing the Dream: Poems and Reflections

In 1958, the world received the most dynamic performer, entertainer, and activist ever to grace the planet. Michael Joseph Jackson was a human being who could only be described as a force of nature. With melodies that soothe the soul and dances that boggle the mind, Michael embodied hard work, dedication, and perseverance. The 2026 film Michael highlighted the life of a man that we all know. The story of a poor black kid from Gary, Indiana, who, through his discipline, raised the status not only of his family but also of an entire generation of black artists and musicians. One could say that there has never been a more famous human being! The 130-minute film focuses on the genesis of the megastar that would soon be crowned the “King of Pop”.

Starting with his humble roots in Gary, Indiana, alongside his brothers, the famous “Jackson 5” who would later rebrand as “The Jacksons,” we see a young Michael Jackson learn the ins-and-outs of stage presence, professionalism, and most of all, the commitment it takes to be great. Juliano Valdi, who played the child Michael, did a superb job in portraying the softness that we all know and love Michael for. Valdi perfected Michael’s mannerisms and early dance moves, truly teleporting us all back to the soulful days of the 1970s. Perhaps the highlight of Validi’s performance was his ability to remind the world that Michael Jackson had to work tirelessly, as a child, to make it to the big leagues. Valdi was remarkable in his ability to show not only the budding giant but also the innocent child seeking affection and tenderness.

Bearing this in mind, the film’s editors removed hours of footage to respect legal agreements made during Michael’s lifetime and to keep the film in the 2-hour ballpark. By doing so, we miss key moments that contextualize Michael’s desire for greater ownership of his craft. The audience does not fully grasp the impact of Jackson 5 mania, nor do we see an accurate depiction of the road that led to their Motown Recording contract. We do not see their time on Steel Town Records, nor do we see his brother, Tito Jackson, famously breaking his father Joseph’s guitar string, which set in motion the ripple effect of their careers. With that being said, it is important to remember the film is Michael, not “The Jacksons”, and we must remember this if we are to appreciate what was delivered to audiences.

The best transition in the film is when we first see Jafaar Jackson, who portrays the adult version of his uncle Michael, set in the late 1970s. The camera pans from an energetic, nostalgic Jackson 5 performance to Jafaar standing at a high-rise window, looking out. Truly, we see with our eyes, Michael Jackson, but think with our brains, “No, that is Jaafar”! Then we hear him softly say, with a smile, “pure escapism, Quincy,” in a tone that almost waters the eyes. For his first acting role, Jaafar incredibly brings his late uncle back to life. Vocally sounding identical, capturing Michael’s midwestern accent, and physically capturing the whimsical childlike essence that seemed never to leave. It is important to remember, though, that in real life, Michael Jackson was a very successful, mature, intelligent businessman.

The movie, at times, overdoes Michael’s childlikeness, seemingly to avoid the very serious, mature adult who was responsible for record deals and his early adult solo success. Perhaps the movie aimed to humanize him in light of how brutal the public has been, and by focusing on his childlikeness, the movie invites the viewer to develop the empathy necessary to understand the plight that may be portrayed in a sequel. In the same vein, we must further criticize the storytelling. In addition to overdoing childlikeness, we also see missed opportunities to correct the narrative surrounding his appearance. The movie recklessly shows Michael admiring Peter Pan’s facial features and then touching his own nose with a look of disappointment, and eventually, cutting to a scene with Michael preparing to undergo plastic surgery. When in reality, the first time Michael went under the knife was due to breaking his nose while performing. Are we denying that he had self-esteem issues due to childhood bullying? No. But we are saying that context matters, and this was the worst part of the movie. Michael Jackson is regularly mocked for his surgeries, and this would have been a great opportunity to correct the narrative. By not mentioning his nose breaking or even that he had discoid lupus, which affects healing, some audiences may continue to buy into the false narrative of “he did not want to be black.” Additionally, more scenes directly showing his early struggle with vitiligo would have contributed greatly.

As we get into his adulthood, it becomes increasingly evident that the filmmakers are hyper-focused on showcasing Michael’s struggle to stand up to his father, Joseph. Joseph Jackson, a controversial figure, pushed his sons and corporally disciplined them greatly. As Michael grew, so did his desires and goals. Joseph, in addition to being a mentally triggering figure for Michael, also became a roadblock to Michael’s dreams. At times, you think, “Maybe they should have named the film Joe. In the film, we see a pattern arise, Michael achieves something great, and soon after Joseph interrupts the euphoria with a plan contrary to Michael’s ambitions. Similar to the first part of the movie, the adult years lack much-needed context. Hollywood acts, such as Diana Ross, Janet Jackson, Randy Jackson, and Brooke Shields, allegedly denied permission for their likenesses to be portrayed in the film. In doing so, many key events are missing from the film. For example, Michael’s role as the scarecrow in the classic film The Wiz, where he starred alongside Diana Ross, who played Dorothy, would have been a great addition to the film’s storytelling. The set of The Wiz was where Michael developed a bond with Quincy Jones, who would go on to produce three of Michael’s adult solo albums.

The film climaxes at the halfway point of Michael’s life on earth. Ironically, the infamous Pepsi-Cola commercial that tragically caused second and third-degree burns to Michael’s scalp was exactly the halfway point of his life. I declare this the highlight because this is when we see Michael undergo an epiphany. He realized, after surviving such a tragedy, that “Jehovah” had given him a platform to help others. Ultimately, leading him to agree to tour one last time with his brothers and go on to be one of the greatest philanthropic figures in world history. Speaking of “Jehovah”, although there were a few scenes of Michael speaking of God. Had the editors chosen to keep the scenes portraying Michael as a devout Jehovah’s Witness alongside his mother, Katherine, perhaps it would have grounded his character and shown the source of his innocence. Not to mention, Katherine Jackson’s character rarely got screen time. But I digress; it is in these hospital scenes that Jafaar looks most like his Uncle. No trace of the actor can be seen, and you begin to marvel at the art you are beholding.

The movie, now nearing its end, concludes with breathtaking performances by the Jackson brothers at Dodger Stadium, and Michael, to the surprise of everyone except his close friend and security guard, Bill Bray, announcing that this is the Jacksons’ final tour. Quickly transitioning to a performance of the song “Bad” by Michael Jackson years later, for his Bad World Tour, we finally see a Michael independent of family doing what Michael does best: being a force of nature.

All in all, Michael is a heart-touching biopic that details the genesis of the greatest ever to do it! Although the film suffers from a lack of context, the storytelling allows the audience to connect with the everyday, mundane side of an icon who has been a mystery for over half a century. From hard-to-watch moments from his childhood to the blissful achievements of his early adulthood, Michael transports the audience through time and reminds the world of the man who personified the so-called “American Dream”. With many already looking forward to a sequel, it is safe to say the film was a success, and the star power of Michael Jackson, that little black kid from Gary, never faded.

“I’m going to search for my star until I find it. It’s hidden in the drawer of innocence, wrapped in a scarf of wonder.”

― Michael Jackson, Dancing the Dream: Poems and Reflections

I was delighted to seem my fellow deacon began writing here on Substack, and so I have invited him to review a book on a pivotal player in Ethiopian History. The place of Ras (duke; head) Alula Ingida, Abba Nega (his horse’s name), in Ethiopian History has been contested by some members of the chattering class grasping at straws as the days of race communism in Ethiopia come to an end. Is he a prophet only with honor in his hometown? Or is he the national pride of all Ethiopian ethnic groups?

Written By: Dcn. Hailu Abreha, a historian and archivist specializing in Ethiopian and Afro-diasporic manuscript traditions, with a focus on memory, continuity, and the historical transmission of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahdo tradition. His work engages archival materials, translation, and liturgical texts, particularly those not yet widely accessible in digital or scholarly formats.

Ras Alula and the Limits of Power: Continuity, Crisis, and Historical Memory

This is a book review of Ras Alula and the Scramble for Africa: A Political Biography by Haggai Erlich (Dec. 31, 1996. 223 pgs.)

There are figures in history who are remembered, and others who are continually reinterpreted. Ras Alula belongs to the latter.

In Ras Alula and the Scramble for Africa, Haggai Erlich approaches Alula not as a fixed national symbol, but as a historical actor whose life must be reconstructed within the uncertainties of his time. The result is a study marked by discipline and restraint—one that resists both mythmaking and dismissal and instead situates Alula within the shifting political realities of a transforming Ethiopian Empire.

From the outset, the book makes clear that its subject cannot be understood in isolation. Alula’s career unfolds within a world defined by competition, instability, and constraint, where authority was not simply inherited but continually negotiated. It is within this environment that Erlich’s central concept—the “natural leader”—takes shape, offering a framework through which Alula’s rise and limitations can be understood.

Alula emerges as a figure of remarkable military ability, political instinct, and personal tenacity. Yet this portrayal avoids romanticization. His achievements are neither exaggerated nor detached from consequence. Instead, they are situated within a competitive and often volatile political environment in which leadership was forged through struggle—military, regional, and interpersonal—rather than guaranteed by lineage.

One of the book’s central contributions is its depiction of nineteenth-century Ethiopia as a dynamic political field rather than a static empire. Authority was contested, alliances were fluid, and power was constantly renegotiated. In this context, Alula’s rise as the son of a peasant was not an anomaly, but a reflection of a broader system in which mobility and ambition played decisive roles.

At the same time, Erlich’s analysis underscores the limits of such a system. Following the death of Emperor Yohannes IV, the fragile balance sustaining Tigrayan, a historic kingdom in northeast Ethiopia, political dominance began to fracture. Internal rivalries, economic strain, and mounting external pressures—from Mahdist forces, Egyptians, and Italians—rendered the preservation of that dominance increasingly untenable. Alula’s efforts, though formidable, were ultimately constrained by these wider transformations.

Importantly, the narrative avoids reducing these developments to personal failure. Decisions such as the confrontation at Dogali are treated with careful balance: as demonstrations of tactical brilliance, but also as part of a broader escalation that reshaped Italian involvement in the region. In this, Erlich maintains a consistent historiographical posture—one that seeks to explain rather than judge.

A Subtle Undercurrent

At times, however, the narrative gestures toward something deeper than its analytical framework fully develops.

In describing earlier Tigrayan political traditions, Erlich notes how elites understood themselves in relation to the legacy of Aksum and to a broader Christian Ethiopian past. Likewise, his observations from Asmera—where older generations continued to identify with Ethiopianism—hint at a shared historical consciousness that persisted even amid political fragmentation.

These elements are not foregrounded, nor are they developed into a central thesis. Yet their presence is significant. They suggest that alongside rivalry and regional competition, there existed a wider sense of continuity—one that shaped how historical actors understood legitimacy, identity, and their place within a longer civilizational arc.

The book’s conclusion reflects this same balance. Alula is remembered as a courageous and formidable leader, yet also as a figure whose uncompromising approach may have limited alternative political possibilities. This is not framed as moral failure, but as the product of a particular historical moment—one in which the decline of Tigrayan hegemony and the rise of Shewan, a historic kingdom in central Ethiopia, power under Emperor Menelik II were driven by structural shifts rather than individual shortcomings alone.

What ultimately distinguishes Erlich’s work is its commitment to historical restraint. As an Israeli scholar not of Ethiopian descent, he maintains a critical distance without losing sensitivity to the significance of his subject. His account neither reproduces nationalist narratives nor dismisses them outright; instead, it reconstructs a past in which competing interpretations coexist.

Ras Alula thus emerges not simply as a defender of a fading order, but as a figure shaped by a world in transition—where continuity and fragmentation, memory and rivalry, operated simultaneously.

But if the book succeeds in restoring Alula to historical complexity, it also leaves open a larger question. As Erlich himself has noted, history is never only about the past; it is continually reinterpreted through the needs of the present. The debates surrounding Ras Alula—whether in Ethiopia, Eritrea, or beyond—are not merely about who he was, but about what his legacy is made to represent.

In that sense, the significance of Ras Alula extends beyond his lifetime. He stands not only as a historical figure, but as a reminder that the past is never neutral terrain. It is contested, reassembled, and, at times, quietly reshaped—often less by what happened than by how it is remembered.

Praytell they edify.

I have been following the work of Dr. Jeannie Constantinou, a Greek Orthodox biblical scholar, attorney, and presbytera (presbyter’s wife), since 2013. She is exceedingly prolific. Her most popular work is probably her Search the Scriptures podcast (and as of the time of publication her most recent episode is on Ethiopia), but her phd dissertation turned book was the English language’s first translation of St. Andrew of Caesarea’s commentary on the Apocalypse (revelation; uncovering) of St. John the evangelist; which itself was the first of its kind. She has also written books on “Orthodox thinking” and on “the Sublime Mystery of the Passion”.

Having subscribed to her newsletter, upon her recommendation after I narrowly missing her in SoCal, I was blessed to see her in the flesh and in the Spirit here in Seattle at St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Church’s Lenten Retreat. This parish is over 100 years old, and sprang from a Greek community previously attending a pre-existing Russian Orthodox parish from the late 19th Century (1895). May God grant us a parish that lasts at least this long in every major city of the U.S.

Terse Notes on Orthodoxy and Modern Life: Continuity, Conformity, or Compromise?:

The day began with her setting the scene of the rugged, tan, old, bald, and short Saul of Tarsus who was also called Paulos sharing a great story with common folk on the way to Thessalonica. He was building an ecclesia (assembly). And establishing an unwritten Apostolic Tradition that would be preserved everywhere from Greece to Ethiopia. For example, the Didache-verified practice of fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays. Separated by 1600 years without communion both the Greek Orthodox and the Ethiopian Orthodox maintain this practice without documentation (The Didache was rediscovered in the 1800s). Secular scholars, Latins, and Germanics would not get this.

She emphasized the agreement of the teachings of the apostles Peter, John, and Paul, contrary to the utter nonsense of those heretics who would pit them against each other in their teachings. Jesus taught them all one phronema (mind, mentality, way of thinking). And we find this phronema in the Bible and in the writings of The Fathers (St. Irenaeus, St. Justin Martyr etc.).

As a widely known woman speaker she clarified that there were no Early Church practices justifying women priests. In fact, the only groups that had women priests were the heretics and the pagans. Her husband Fr. Costas Constantinou had to depart for the day, and so he interjected at this point that these pagan women priests were not functioning as priests as we understand them but rather as prostitutes. He also lauded his wife profusely with humor (saying that paying for her many degrees was his only contribution to Orthodoxy) that shows biblical wisdom. She has a J.D. (from my alma mater Pepperdine University School of Law) and a Phd. in biblical studies from Université Laval (after two M.A.s from Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology and Harvard Divinity School).

She is extremely funny too. Whilst deprecating various kinds of sinners, and ridding us of the notion of loving the sinner but hating the sin (since we are sinners that should invite fellow sinners to our hospital to heal), she was also several times self-deprecating with regard to her gluttony and lack of physical exercise. It is an 8-mile-esque move to rid your haters, in advance, of anything bad they can mention about you.

The Orthodox Church grew in its early days not by accommodating the overwhelmingly pagan society around it, but by demonstrating a way of life and conviction and willingness to die in the Colosseum. This true philosophy (wisdomlove) impressed the Hellenized masses. And contrary to the hyperfixation on documentation that Latins and Germanics have, the Greeks sat down, listened, and memorized. Who taught you? was a common lineage check question that could override the authority of the written word. There was a chain of custody of teachers.

And not everyone was a teacher sharing the treasured mysteries (i.e. the energies of God, the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father) of The Church in online debates for the world to trample upon them! Zip your lip, and shutup! There are certain matters people are not capable or worthy of understanding. The Lord Jesus himself responded to some questioners with questions of his own. We need be prudent.

People in the audience were polled to see which significant events they remembered vividly, rather than the mundane meals they may have had the day before. The average age was high, and so I fell off after 9/11 and Clinton’s impeachment, but others remembered: JFK’s assassination, the Moon Landing, and even Pearl Harbor. The crucifixion of Jesus Christ would have been greater in the minds of the apostles and their disciples.

The communal integration of the Orthodox Church sets it apart from Catholics and Protestants today. The people fast and feast together with regularity. The original critiques of the Protestant Reformation against the Catholics were correct but accepted the frame of using human reason rather than the bible and patristic witness. Ironically, it was St. Augustine that introduced this to them due to his week knowledge of Greek patristics. And the Greek, Syriac, and Ge’ez realms were simply not influenced by him, even though he lived at a time when the church was still united.

She gave a few examples like Robert Schuller, a megachurch pastor whose planted community went away after he died, in contradistinction to the churches planted by the apostles in Constantinople and Thessalonica etc. Even the longlasting Catholics have basically 1,000 phronemas through their sundry religious orders, and these are allowed to develop (according to papal encyclicals). Whereas the Orthodox phronema is one, fidelity to apostolic tradition.

This does not mean change never happens. Only that it happens slowly. The mass migration of Greeks to the New World prompted the canonical adoption of the New Calendar (celebrating Christmas on December 25th instead of January 7th) by a few but not all jurisdictions of Orthodox in America. There are now talks of adjusting the date of Easter to align East and West. God knows what will happen and when it will happen.

We love living in the West. But symbolically the West is darkness. See the rubric for the baptism rite. Your back faces the West as you renounce Satan and his angels and his works. Whereas Rome was alone as a jurisdiction on the fringe of civilization when the capital had moved East to Constantinople, Constantinople was the center of civilization and was adjacent to other jurisdictions in Jerusalem and Antioch and Alexandria. Rather than aggrandizing the role of St. Peter, these other members of the so-called pentarchy saw Peter and Paul and Andrew as being on the same page.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus, the archbishop of Constantinople, eschewed “Athenian spiderwebs” in favor of “the philosophy of the fishermen”. This means choosing the simple wisdom of the apostles over human reasoning and scholastic theology (represented by the caricature of counting how many angels could dance on the head of a pin). Graduate school Franciscans that Dr. Jeannie taught were shocked to learn, and initially did not believe her that this was the case, that their tradition held that in confession sins are forgiven but the punishment thereof still remains in the afterlife. God forbid! This is not so in Orthodoxy. Absolution grants the remission of sins done both wittingly and unwittingly, beknownst to you and unbeknownst to you.

This human reasoning leads to a sort of legalism, the application of rules and guidelines, that you cannot help but laugh at or abandon outright. Before the 1950s, Latins fasted from midnight the night before through the reception of communion at mass on Sunday morning. Then, the communion fast was changed to 3 hours. Then, to 1 hour. And even then there are people arguing that chewing gum on the way to church does not break the fast but swallowing the juices thereof does…

Let us attend!

P.S.

Ethiopia mentioned (YT version):

Graham Hancock is a British writer (this is in fact how he self-identifies when prompted on Piers Morgan Uncensored). A journo. His first connection to Ethiopia was as the East Africa correspondent for The Economist during the Derg, a Marxist-Leninist junta that ran the country from 1974-1991. He co-authored a photographic introduction to Ethiopia called Under Ethiopian Skies with well-known Ethiopianist British historian Richard Pankhurst. And on his own, Hancock wrote Ethiopia: The Challenge of Hunger, a chronicle of the 1980s’ famine (of We are the World fame) the communists managed worse than the one under the Ethiopian monarchy a decade earlier; which had justified their seizure of power, with a spliced agitprop edit whose original footage came from British journo Jonathan Dimbleby.

Hancock is neither an ‘istorian nor an archeologist nor an orthodox theologian. And he has taken a lot of drugs: LSD, copious amounts of cannabis, and shaman-led ayahuasca. The Old Anglo adage goes, “take it with a grain of salt.” Cliches, of which calling out cliches is one, are real. People hate them because they are effective and functional well. They are full of Lindy wisdom. Read Hancock, but take him with a grain of salt. Add as much as needed. But do not overdo the salt like Piers Morgan did.

In the Sign and The Seal, Hancock does “the weave” with magic and science, with French writer Chrétien de Troyes’ and German writer Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Holy Grail and fictional American Indiana Jones’ and the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahdo Church’s Ark of the Covenant. Von Eschenbach’s ending is the director’s cut, finishing the story de Troyes left on a cliffhanger; like some scribes who added verses 9-20 to the Gospel According to Mark Chapter 16.

Some stories are better left on a cliffhanger…

Written by: Derek Cummins, a convert to the Coptic Orthodox Church

Between Mystery and Tradition: An Orthodox Reading of The Sign and The Seal: The Quest for the Lost Ark of the Covenant by Graham Hancock

(1992. 600 pgs. $31.20 Hardcover; $13 Paperback and Kindle)

Hancock’s The Sign and The Seal is one of those books that refuses to fade away. First published in the early 1990s, it continues to capture the imagination of readers decades later—Christians, skeptics, podcasters, and spiritual seekers alike. It is recommended in casual parish conversations, appears in online debates about Ethiopia and the Ark of the Covenant, and has even found new life through long-form interviews and modern mythmaking (especially on Joe Rogan Experience, Earth’s mightiest broadcast).

I approached the book cautiously, but with genuine interest. It had been recommended to me by Ethiopian Orthodox Christians, friends in my parish, and people whose judgment I trust. That alone was enough to take it seriously. At the same time, learning that Hancock’s work is often categorized under “New Age,” and that his broader worldview includes heavy speculation, altered states of consciousness, and a fascination with hidden knowledge, raised some immediate red flags.

Still, as the old saying goes: chew the meat, spit out the bones.

This is not so much a traditional book review as it is a theological and pastoral reflection on The Sign and The Seal—what it gets right, where it drifts into speculation, and why it continues to matter, especially for Christians interested in Ethiopia and the deep continuity of the biblical story.

A Story That Pulls You In

At its best, The Sign and The Seal is a compelling narrative. Hancock writes like a detective, not an academic. The book moves from Ethiopia to France, from Jerusalem to Egypt, from medieval Europe to Lake Tana, weaving together travelogue, history, legend, and personal investigation. It reads less like a dry historical study and more like a mystery unfolding in real time.

That storytelling strength is also part of the danger. Hancock is excellent at creating momentum, at drawing connections, and at suggesting patterns. Sometimes those connections are supported by solid research. Other times, they rest on linguistic coincidences, speculative leaps, or phrases like “surely it must be possible” and “wouldn’t it make sense if…”

Roughly half the book feels well-grounded and carefully sourced. The other half feels like conjecture stretched just far enough to keep the story moving.

Ethiopia, the Ark, and Living Memory

Where the book shines most clearly is in its treatment of Ethiopia itself. Whenever Hancock is on Ethiopian soil—listening to priests, attending festivals, observing worship, or recounting the story of the Kbre Negest (the Glory of Kings, the central local text justifying the reign of the Solomonid Dynasty)—the book comes alive.

Hancock ultimately argues that the Ark of the Covenant rests in Ethiopia, traditionally guarded at the Church of St. Mary of Zion in Aksum. By the time he makes this case, I found myself already convinced—not necessarily because of every argument he offers, but because of the sheer weight of continuity, tradition, and living memory within the Ethiopian Church.

After all, this is a civilization whose identity, worship, and self-understanding are inseparable from the story they tell about God’s dwelling among them.

For an Orthodox Christian, this raises an important theological question: What role does the Ark of the Covenant play in the New Covenant?

The Church has always taught that the Ark finds its fulfillment in Christ, and preeminently in the Theotokos, who bore the Word of God Himself. The parallels are explicit and ancient: the tablets of the Law and the Word made flesh, David dancing before the Ark and John the Baptist leaping in Elizabeth’s womb, the dwelling place of God among His people.

And yet, fulfillment does not mean erasure. The Old Covenant is not discarded, but transfigured. In this sense, the Ethiopian Church’s reverence—its fear of God—its careful guarding of holy things, its refusal to trivialize the presence of God feels profoundly biblical rather than archaic.

Reading Hancock’s descriptions of Ethiopian worship, especially during Timqet (Epiphany/Theophany), one cannot escape the sense that something ancient and serious has been preserved. Not waxy, museum-style preservation, but living continuity.

Where the Book Loses Its Way

Unfortunately, The Sign and The Seal does not remain grounded in this world of living tradition. As the book progresses, Hancock increasingly drifts into what can only be described as gnostic speculation.

The Ark becomes not a holy object, but a piece of ancient technology. Moses is recast as a sorcerer trained in Egyptian magic. Biblical faith is reframed as borrowed wisdom from Atlantis. Pagan rituals and Christian worship are treated as parallel expressions of the same underlying truth, rather than judged and fulfilled by the revelation of Christ.

This is where Hancock’s lack of a theological framework becomes most apparent. Writing from a postmodern, relativistic perspective, he seems unable—or unwilling—to say what is actually true. Everything is symbol, everything is myth, everything is possibility. In the end, nothing is allowed to stand firmly as revelation.

Ironically, this speculative turn undermines his earlier arguments. By fictionalizing the foundations, he weakens the historical and spiritual force of the Ethiopian claim he has spent hundreds of pages building.

From an Orthodox perspective, this is where discernment is essential. Christianity does not deny that pagan cultures contain echoes of truth. The Church Fathers knew this well. What Christianity insists upon is that Christ judges the gods, baptizes what can be baptized, and casts out what cannot remain. Similarity does not imply equality.

Without that lens, speculation quickly becomes confusion.

Why the Book Still Matters

Despite its flaws—and there are many—The Sign and The Seal is worth reading.

It is worth reading because it points people toward Ethiopia. It is worth reading because it forces modern Christians to grapple with the seriousness of holiness, the fear of God, and the weight of continuity. It is worth reading because it reminds us that Scripture is not a collection of abstract stories, but a history rooted in real places, real peoples, and real worship.

Perhaps most importantly, it reveals a hunger. A hunger for ancient roots, for tangible faith, for a God who is not merely spoken about but dwells among His people.

Read carefully. Read critically. Read with the Church.

Directionally, Hancock may be closer to the truth than he realizes. But without the anchor of faith, mystery easily becomes myth.

And the true mystery—the one the Church guards—is far greater than any hidden artifact.

Watch the video version here.

-In addition to JRE #142, Hancock has appeared on JRE #360; #417; #551; #725; #872; #961; #1284; #1543; #1897; #2051; #2136; #2215 (these seem to be Spotify exclusives)

-Richard Wagner, the German composer, crafted the eponymous opera Parsifal (1882) to continue the mystery of the story of the Holy Grail in a new medium

The film features a fictional Greek Orthodox funeral which is shotup in Chicago, America’s third largest city. When I moved to the much smaller Seattle in mid-2024 a real Ethiopian Orthodox funeral was shot up for similar reasons of payback that are in the film. At the end of January 2026, just down the street from the high school I teach at in Seattle’s Rainier Beach neighborhood, two high school students (TS and TH) were shot dead at a bus stop on Rainier Avenue South and South Henderson Street, that I drive by daily and walk by sometimes. We live in a simulation. But it is run by God. Evil exists because God wills us to be free to choose.

When the real funeral in 2024 was shotup, our archdiocese’s archbishop, his beatitude Aba Mark, filled with grief and the Holy Ghost, told me to take care of the children of his archdiocese as if they were my own. And so his saying would pierce my heart, he first referenced my only-begotten son whom he plays with regularly. I take his words seriously. And have been teaching scripture for going on two years in Seattle’s Central District. And have connected this ministry to OCPM (Orthodox Christian Prison Ministry), upon the recommendation of my friend Matthew Namee who runs OSI (Orthodox Studies Institute) which recently employed my other friend Dcn. Seraphim aka Richard Rohlin.

Moses the Black is a film in this vein which can take care of the children. Though I critique the visions of the desert from the city, the best line comes from a conversation between the protagonist Malik and St. Moses the Black.

Malik: What’s your secret?

Aba Moses: Go sit in your cell. And your cell will teach you everything.

There is an unmissable parallel between Malik’s prison cell and Aba Moses’ monastic cell. What is your cell? Your cell is your locale. Change starts with you and will flow into your locale.

Moses the Black (2026; not to be mistaken for The Black Moses (2012); a fever nightmare for linguists and philologers), a film about the eponymous Northeast African saint, fuses together American street culture epitomized by Chicago and the desert of The Desert Fathers. My college roommate of two non-consecutive years (shoutout to Alex) guided me, in college, through legendary Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa’s three Shakespeare adaptations: Throne of Blood (1957), based on Macbeth (1606); The Bad Sleep Well (1960), based on Hamlet (1601); and Ran (1985), based on King Lear (1605). These adaptations from one setting to another still stand superlatively in the eye of my heart. Other reviewers of Moses the Black have referenced the glaring twinning of this film and Spike Lee’s Chi-raq (2015), “a modern day adaptation of the ancient Greek play Lysistrata by Aristophanes.” They are literally set in the same city, and focus on the same ADOS/FBA (African Descendant of Slaves, Foundational Black American) demographic. Moses the Black’s failure is in not committing to a total adaptation. Instead, we had a disjointing back-and-forth between Chicago and Ethiopia (Kush, Nubia, Meroe, Upper Egypt, The Sudan etc.). The thespianry of the main white dirty cop was also over-the-top. Everything else is a success.

Or so I say. Whereas Rotten Tomatoes critics gave Chi-raq an 82% and the vox populi said 53%, the critics there gave Moses the Black a 23% and the vox populi said 78%. The New York Times was not favorable to Moses the Black either in their review. This phenomenon reminds me of the mixed critical reception of Ms. Lauryn Hill’s (my fellowlaborer) MTV Unplugged No. 2, a low-church prophetic and personal scriptural album which directly succeeded her RIAA Diamond-certified The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Touré, writing in Rolling Stone, shares an anecdote about a music industry executive thinking aloud about self-defenestration in response to the album.

“So the devils besought him, saying, if thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine. And he said unto them, go. And when they were come out, they went into the herd of swine: and, behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters” (Matthew 8:31-32)

“Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (Jacob 4:7).

“I ain’t here to argue about His facial features,

Or here to convert atheists into believers,

I’m just tryna say the way school need teachers,

The way Kathie Lee needed Regis, that’s the way I need Jesus,

So here go my single, dawg, radio needs this,

They say you can rap about anything except for Jesus,

That means guns, sex, lies, videotape,

But if I talk about God, my record won’t get played, huh?

Well, if this take away from my spins,

Which’ll probably take away from my ends,

Then I hope it take away from my sins”

-pre-Donda West passing Old Kanye

My contention is that the subject matter of Moses the Black bothers people who do not want to think about God. To watch this film is to be compelled to think critically, as I did in college (at my low-church Christian liberal arts alma mater in SoCal) for the first time, about your life, your sins, and whether or not you should seek μετάνοια (metanoia; tactfully only rendered in dynamic translation as change of the heart in the film) and pursue it. 50 Cent (who has been on a generational run: Moses the Black, Sean Combs: The Reckoning the Diddy Documentary, DoorDash The Big Beef Super Bowl LX Campaign, ROI on an AI investment, multi-million dollar investment in Shreveport, Louisiana, and the forthcoming Street Fighter film), the executive producer of the film, explicitly removed the just and right title of St. as a prefix to Moses so that the moral of the story does not feel like a bludgeon to the head of the viewers. Yelena Popovic (no known relation to “winningest coach with a single franchise in NBA history” (AP) Gregg Popovic, even though he was born in Chicago), the director and writer, kept the script under wraps for eons so that evil eyes would not try to reduce the rawness and ruggedness of the story, thus diminishing its power to change hearts. One of her only confidants was Serbian Orthodox priest Fr. Turbo Qualls, an ADOS/FBA tattooist turned iconographer and actor (as himself) in this film. Fr. Turbo made the cut as confidant and actor because he shared Yelena’s love of Orthodoxy and love of good storytelling. This is a point my friend Jonathan Pageau has made many times. Curtis Yarvin has made this point about right-wing film as well. And before them, this point separated J.R.R. Tolkien from his friend C.S. Lewis. The primary goal of an artist should be to make the highest quality art. The moral of the story should come secondarily and organically with as much subtlety as Solomonid Dynasty Era Ethiopian palace intrigue.

Moses the Black features: blood-for-blood lickbacks (on par with Romeo and Juliet, Hatfields and McCoys, and Amhara dem-melash culture), scenes of the sweet science with the Bronze Bomber Deontay Wilder 44-4-1 (43 KOs) and rapper Wiz Khalifa (who trains Thai Boxing and Gracie Jujitsu in real life), dirty cops, underclass anti-gay rhetoric (differentiated from Christian “hate the sin, love the sinner” rhetoric which is categorized as homophobia by left-wing activists), the hesychasts’ Jesus prayer, different kinds of Pharisaism, icons of Mar Isaac of Nineveh and St. Macrina the Younger (who has a fantastic bakery named after her in Seattle) of the Cappadocian family, cinema-worthy Omar Epps facial expressions, Greek Orthodox chant, and the Lukean prayer of the criminal on the cross on the right side of Jesus (Luke 23:42).

All things considered, I loved it, and Lordwilling, you will too.

P.S.

-Joakim Noah has recently further demonstrated the connections betwixt and between Black Americans and Serbians by traveling to Serbia and becoming a public philologer in his own right by popularizing their word “inat” (ee-nat), borrowed from Ottoman Era Turkish rule, which means stubbornness, defiance, obstinance, spite, specifically doing something (or refusing to do something) against logic or institutions. Noah says this Serbian cultural pride and grit verifies and makes explicit the former ties he felt implicitly with Serbians as a Black American (even though he is ethnically Cameroonian-French-Swede, not ADOS/FBA).

-I prefer only-fathered to only-begotten and I prefer one-of-a-kind to both as a translation of the Greek μονογενής (monogenes) found in the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed (tselote haymanot; the prayer of faith). I went with only-begotten in my editorial note because of its resonance with the faithful and laity who have memorized the prayer of faith (though there are still many forms) in English.

Unlike most people, I first heard of Mihret Melaku when he was about nine years old. Four years before he published his first book, an out-of-print exhortation on repentance, and he was already a prodigy then. At nine or ten I heard him recite, by heart, the Prayer of Faith (Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed) in Ge’ez, Amharic, and English. Evangelos Nikitopoulos, a Greek Orthodox publisher of patristics, writes a review of Dcn. Mihret’s second book Defending the Ancient Faith: an Orthodox Response to the Knechtle Debate below.

The Greek Orthodox and the Syriac Orthodox, though of different communions, are on the same New Calendar, and have thus already celebrated the twelve days of Christmas including Theophany (The Baptism of the Lord Jesus). Slavs, who commune with Greeks, and afroasiatics (habesha and copts), who commune with Syriac, are aligned on the Old Calendar, having celebrated Christmas eve on January 6th (an auspicious occasion), Christmas on January 7th, and preparing to celebrate Theophany on January 19th (Dr. MLK Jr. Day in America). Blessed feasts! Since we cannot commune together, yet, I am of the mind that online collaborations like these please the Lord of Spirits.

Keep me in your prayers to complete the audiobook.

By: Evangelos Nikitopoulos

Like most people, I first heard of Deacon Mihret Melaku in April of 2025, when a viral video of him confronting the Protestant influencers Cliffe and Stuart Knechtle at Harvard University circulated on the internet. Such was its reach at the time that even my bishop, a usually reserved and ascetic personality, the last person you would expect to be aware of online trends, referred to it in one of his sermons. My immediate impression was that Mihret made a very strong case for the traditional Christian understanding of the Eucharist and salvation, but more than that, his calm demeanor exemplified what true Christian apologetics should look like: he was not overly aggressive or polemical, nor did he seek to shame or “own” his opponents, as often happens in such forums; he simply stated the truth of the Church and let Scripture speak for itself. Beyond the logical arguments he provided, it was his peaceful manner that seemed to disarm his interlocutors the most, and it was evident from their uneasy and flippant responses that they had never interacted with someone coming from his particular Christian tradition.

It is said that our times are witnessing a religious revival. The years of the Covid pandemic, with its continual lockdowns and uncertainty, did much to destabilize society and existing institutions and relationships, but it also ignited—at least in some—a yearning to seek after abiding and unchanging truths. The fact that this particular clip gained so much traction is an indication that Mihret struck an authentic chord within our current zeitgeist. As such, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Knechtle debate had served as a catalyst for him to produce a full-length book addressing in greater detail the differences between Protestantism and Orthodox Christianity.

The volume is not a quick read, spanning a total of 382 pages. The reader will have many occasions to pause and ponder its contents, look up cross-references in the Bible, and take notes. There are twelve chapters covering (1) the origin of the Christian scriptural canon, (2) the relation between Scripture and liturgy, (3) the Church as a normative interpretative authority, (4) the intercession of the saints, (5) the veneration of the saints, (6) the veneration of icons, (7) Mariology, (8) atonement, (9) salvation, (10) baptism, (11) the Eucharist, and (12) Apostolic succession. The themes are judiciously chosen, and there is a logic to the progression of the chapters (although it might have made more sense to have had Chapter 12 follow immediately upon Chapter 3).

Each chapter adheres more or less to the same format: the author begins by outlining the Protestant theological position on the topic at hand before explaining why it is erroneous, drawing on the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, the New Testament, the Apostolic Fathers, and even archaeology when relevant. Mihret’s arguments are, for the most part, not novel in themselves, but he often gives them an original spin. Typology forms the cornerstone of his apologetic, and the book of Revelation constitutes one of his favorite proof texts.

For instance, it was the first time I saw someone connect the 24 elders in Saint John’s apocalyptic vision (Rev 4:10; 5:8; 11:16) with the notion that the saints make up for the fallen “third” of the “number of the angels of God” (mentioned in Deuteronomy 32:8), which was traditionally interpreted as being 72 (72/3 = 24). Due to this correspondence, Mihret argues that Christian saints currently hold the same standing in relation to God as the fallen angels did before they trespassed, that is, a position of relative honor, reflecting the divine majesty as “gods” in their own right (Psalm 81/82:1). It is therefore entirely appropriate to ask for their intercession and show them respect. The fact that some of the bystanders at the Crucifixion who heard Christ crying out “Eli, Eli” immediately assumed that He was calling out to the Prophet Elijah (Matt 27:47; Mark 15:35-36) corroborates that Second Temple Jews believed that the saintly dead could be invoked and actively engage with the world of the living (cf. 2 Macc 15:13-16).

Mihret’s strength undoubtedly lies in exegeting Scripture (albeit some of his interpretations, particularly those of Leviticus 16:8 and Romans 3:22, are a bit too speculative for my taste). My favorite parts of the book were his explications of the “seat of Moses” (Matt 23:2) in Chapter 3—in which he convincingly demonstrates that Christ vested the interpretative authority of the Scriptures in His Apostles, in continuity with the authority of the Mosaic priesthood—and the theology of baptism in Chapter 10, in which he establishes on the basis of Old and New Testament passages (e.g. Ezekiel 47:8-12 and Matt 4:19) that early Christians believed baptism to be not merely symbolic, but generative of a real ontological change within the believer.

In my opinion, the book is worth reading for Chapter 7 alone, which covers the Virgin Mary. Basing himself on Scripture and in particular on Saint Jerome’s Against Helvidius, Mihret systematically dismantles the blasphemous belief that is sadly widespread among modern Evangelicals which holds that the Virgin Mary bore other children after Christ (something neither Luther, Calvin, or Zwingli believed). He also explains why it is entirely in keeping with the Bible—and actually necessary for any “Bible-believing Christian”—to honor her highly.

The author does not shy away even from citing early Jewish traditions recorded in the Talmud when it serves his argument, e.g. when it comes to proving the celibacy of the Prophet Moses. In the chapter on the Eucharist, he quotes several ancient anaphoras preserved in Ethiopic to highlight Old Testament antecedents to the blessed sacrament. The chapter on iconodulia is well-constructed. Nevertheless, in my humble experience debating this question, I do not think that pointing out Scriptural typologies and the existence of frescoes in the Roman catacombs is enough to convince a hardened iconoclast. The latter will always fall back upon saying that the early Christians had images, but they did not pray to them. Proving this is possible, but it requires a much more nuanced argumentation that goes beyond the scope of Mihret’s book. For a more specialized study on the topic, I would direct the interested reader to Michael Garten’s recent publication Early Icons: Christian Image Veneration Before 325 AD, which I think establishes a whole new paradigm for the field.

It was refreshing to see that the bibliography of Defending the Ancient Faith is a cut above what one usually gets in common works of apologetics. The numerous references to academic journals show that the author has availed himself of the full resources of Harvard’s library. Mihret also does a good job at avoiding straw-manning the Reformers, frequently quoting Luther or Calvin in their own words alongside contemporary Protestant theologians like R.C. Sproul. His short discussion on pages 326 and 327 regarding how the more radical Reformers denied the communicatio idiomatum (the sharing of properties between Christ’s divine and human natures), exposing a quasi-Nestorian bent, is excellent, and reflects the current scholarly understanding (see e.g., K.J. Drake’s 2021 monograph The Flesh of the Word: The extra Calvinisticum from Zwingli to Early Orthodoxy). This strikes, I believe, at the very heart of the problem with Protestant theology, which is its radical denial that matter can be sanctified.

If there is one aspect of the book that I found lacking, it would be the topic of the atonement. Mihret writes on page 100: “To ‘put on Christ’…in the Orthodox tradition…is not reduced to a legal or external substitution, as though Christ were righteous so that we could remain unrighteous. Christ became what we are not to replace us, but to transfigure us.” While it is true that Orthodoxy does not reduce the atonement to a mere legal transaction, this does not take away from the fact that Christ truly died in our place on the Cross. It is precisely for this reason that Christ cries out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me!” (Matt 27:56; Mark 15:34). In saying these words, Christ was expressing the profound alienation which He experienced from God in His humanity, the alienation which is the lot of all sinners. By assuming this in our stead, He frees us from God’s just condemnation and makes our sanctification possible. Just like faith needs to be expressed by works, so can sanctification not occur without the atonement: both are indispensable and inseparable parts of God’s divine economy.

A similar one-sidedness can be detected in the author’s treatment of original sin. He writes on page 245: “The Orthodox understanding of original sin is based not on a transmission of guilt, but on the effects of sin on the cosmos.” Once again, the truth is that Orthodoxy believes in both. Sin most certainly does distort the cosmos, but the mystery of our faith teaches us that it is also transmitted genetically from our parents. This is why we baptize infants “for the remission of sins” as it says in the Creed (and not “for the remission of corruption”). What sins has an infant committed at its age? And while we do not believe that we are responsible for the personal sin of Adam (on this question, see Saint Augustine in Against Julian III.23), the Fathers frequently speak of how all of humanity was condemned “in Adam.”

For example, Saint Ambrose says: “In Adam I fell, in Adam I was cast out of Paradise, in Adam I died. How should God restore me, unless He find Adam in me, so that just as I am subject to guilt (culpae obnoxium) and destined to death in him, so am I justified in Christ?” (On the Death of his Brother Satyrus, II.6). According to Saint Cyril, “the whole nature of man was condemned (ܡܬܚܝܒ) in the person of him who was first formed; but now it is wholly justified again in Christ” (Sermon 42 on Luke, preserved fully in a Syriac translation). On page 248, Mihret goes so far as to cite Theodore of Mopsuestia to argue that Orthodoxy rejects the notion of original sin. I concede here that his reading of Theodore is correct, but that is only because Theodore was a Pelagian, and not an Orthodox Father!

There is much in Chapters 8 and 9 that is otherwise sound; I bring up these specific points only as a friendly correction offered in the spirit of charity. I personally believe that the best way to win over people to the truth is not by emphasizing only one half of a rich theological tradition, but by presenting Orthodox doctrine in its fulness.

While we are on this subject, I should also mention that the author will often use the term “Orthodox” without qualification to refer to individuals of both Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian persuasion. To the uninitiated reader, this might create the impression that all the “Orthodox” authors that are cited as such in the book are part of one and the same Church, but the reality is that the Ethiopian church of which Deacon Mihret is a member is not in communion with the Orthodox churches with which Westerners are most typically familiar (Greek, Russian, etc.). This should be clarified for the readership, as it accounts for the author’s use of certain peculiar theological expressions, such as “theanthropic nature” (p. 97) and “one composite nature of Emmanuel” (p. 281), which we would reject as theologically problematic (for the same reason, incidentally, that Deacon Mihret rejects the Protestant notion of “one energy” operating in man’s salvation: if there is but “one nature” in Christ, our human nature cannot be deified; it will either be replaced or absorbed by the divinity. Consequently, Christ must possess two natures and two natural wills in perfect harmony).

These failings notwithstanding, I would like to congratulate the Deacon on his accomplishment and I heartily encourage all Christians to buy this book. As far as I am aware, besides Fr. Josiah Trenham’s now-classic Rock and Sand, which has a slightly different focus, there are no other full-length books in English explaining the differences between Orthodox Christianity and Protestantism in the comprehensive way that Mihret does. Thus, Defending the Ancient Faith will both appeal to neophytes seeking instruction in their faith and will present more advanced readers with fertile material for reflection. As we are still in the Nativity season, let me conclude by saying: Christ is Born, let us glorify Him!

h/t OTYG Seattle.

Daniel Hanna is a middle school English teacher, poet, and author of the sci-fi novel Neo-Kemet, which explores Coptic Orthodox Christian identity in light of technological development and forgetfulness of one’s own history and personal identity. Here, he reviews the Life of Antony (not Anthony; neither a jot nor a tittle of the th sound in the original Ἀντώνιος), by St. Athanasius of Alexandria, aka contra mundum (against the world), the pope who gave Aksum its bishopry in the 4th Century A.D.

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Christ in the Desert: The Life of Antony

By: Daniel Hanna

Christ in the Desert: Antirrhetikos (anti-rhetoric; clap back)

After the Baptism of Christ in the Jordan River, near the site where Elijah the Prophet had ascended into Heaven, and at which St. John the Baptist came preaching and baptizing, Christ was led into the desert west of the Jordan. In that desert, He spent 40 days fasting while being tempted by Satan.

In the desert, Christ answered each of the recorded temptations with verses from the Scriptures. The first recorded temptation dealt with hunger, which becomes one of the primary temptations facing those who fast like this. The devil said, “If You are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread” (Luke 4:3). Christ responded to this thought with a verse, “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God’” (Luke 4:4, citing Deuteronomy 8:3). Then the devil tempted Him with power, but this time “showed Him” a vision of “all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time” (Luke 4:5). So in addition to the thought, now there was something visible as sensory perceptions make things more present and immediate to us, but with this Satan gave Him a condition, “If You will worship before me, all will be Yours” (Luke 4:6). Yet our Lord responded to this thought and vision with, “Get behind Me, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the LORD your God, and Him only you shall serve’” (Luke 4:8, citing Deuteronomy 6:13). Then in the third recorded temptation, he brought our Lord Jesus Christ to Jerusalem, to the pinnacle of the temple, and tempted Him with His relationship with God the Father, “Throw Yourself down from here,” (Luke 4:9) and dared to cite the Scriptures as our Lord had been using in His response to the devil to try to deceive Him, but He did not know that He was indeed the Son of God. He cited the Psalms,

“He shall give His angels charge over you,

To keep you,” (Luke 4:10, citing Psalm 91:11) and

“In their hands they shall bear you up,

Lest you dash your foot against a stone” (Luke 4:11, citing Psalm 91:12).

Yet Christ, sure of His relationship with God the Father and knowing the depth of the Scriptures, responded to this thought and concrete vision with “It has been said, ‘You shall not tempt the LORD your God’” (Luke 4:12, citing Deuteronomy 6:16).

Now moving from the desert of Judea to the deserts of Egypt, we come to The Life of Antony, which was written by St. Athanasius the Apostolic, to show us the life of the first anchorite monk. In his life, we see our Lord Jesus Christ living in Him. Several times in The Life of Antony, he responds to temptations in like fashion as our Lord Jesus Christ did in the desert.

In the first attack on St. Antony, it says that the devil kicked up “a dustcloud of logismoi.” The word logismoi was used in the early Church, and especially among the monks, to indicate a type of reasoning or thinking that led into sin if left alone to develop. Among these, in the first attack on St. Antony, it says: memories of possessions, guardianship of his sister (whom he had left with a community of virgins, or proto-nuns), loneliness, love of money, love of honor, pleasure of eating various kinds of food, the thought of the suffering that comes with trying to live a virtuous life, the body’s weakness, the long life ahead of him, and the form of a woman. After these various and overwhelming thoughts, the devil appeared to him and told him that he was the friend of fornication and it traps young people. St. Antony responded with a verse from the Psalms:

“The Lord is my helper,

and I shall look upon my enemies” (Psalm 118:7).

After this, Satan varied his temptations because he saw St. Antony increase his asceticism and adopt new ascetic practices: all night vigils, breaking the fast at evening, eating every third or fourth day, and eating only bread, salt, and water, sleeping on a mat or floor, and not anointing himself.

St. Antony then responds to the new temptations, which had discouraged him from these practices, with another verse: “When I am weak, then I am strong” (1 Corinthians 12:10).

Next, when tempted with the past again, and the long future of an ascetic life ahead, he responds, “We are forgetting what lies behind and straining forward for what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:31).

St. Antony, paying attention to the tricks of the devil, noticed the changes in strategy of temptations, and he adopted yet again new practices, which included living in tombs, but this time Satan and the demons appeared to him and beat him to the point that a friend of his who used to bring him food found him unconscious. His friend picked him up and brought him back to the church in the town, at which St. Antony regained consciousness at midnight. When he came to, he asked his friend to take him back to the tombs and he responded to the demons,

“Even if you do worse things to me, ‘nothing will separate me from the love of Christ’ [Romans 8:35] Jesus my Lord. For it is written in the psalms: ‘Though war should rise up against me, my heart will not be afraid’” (Psalm 27:3). (Vivian, The Coptic Life of Antony, pg. 80).

So the devil, just as he tempted Christ with hunger, the pursuit of power, worship of someone other than God, and with His very relationship with God, also tempted St. Antony with longing for the past, fear of the future, lust, and finally beatings, yet he responded to them the very way Christ responded to the temptations.

This practice, which is rooted in Christ’s example, and expanded as Christ lived in His saints in the early Church, became known as antirrhetikos, which means “talking back”. It is a magnificent tool in the toolkit of spiritual warfare to answer specific temptations with specific verses from the Scriptures, whose words are holy because they are inspired by the Holy Spirit. It sharpens our minds and arms us with powerful weapons, but it not only helps us counter temptations, but also attunes our minds to the love of God by specifying and reminding us of the words of Scripture. As we live in an age where forgetfulness is easy because we walk around with prosthetic memories (a term used by Abouna Theodore Labib), remembrance no longer lives in us, and a life that does not have memories populating it, is a life that cannot grow into a satisfying and meaningful one.

The Spirituality of Memory and Attention

I have written before on the Spirituality of Memory, and there I have written, “Memory. It is not something we think of often, but whenever we think at all we are using our memories. We access knowledge we have learned or experiences we have gone through in order to make sense of whatever we are currently dealing with at the moment… What you have experienced literally changes the way you are moving forward through life”.

What we remember forms us. How scary! What is it that is filling our memories? Among the early monks like St. Antony, it was the Scriptures and their experiences with God, the experiences of others with God, and their experiences and conversations with other holy men and women. St. Athanasius, in his opening paragraphs, says, “For me, too, it is very good and beneficial just to remember Antony, the man of God” (Vivian translation, Preface, The Coptic Life of Antony, pg. 52). This is so because a life such as St. Antony’s shows us that it is possible for Christ to live in us, and for us to pursue the path of holiness successfully. That life can be imitated by our remembrance of it.

But what is it that fills our memories? Is it memes, shorts, and other ultra-processed content on the internet and in our group chats? These do not form us, but cause sugar crashes just as ultra-processed food does the same. Some foods are fat-free, others are sodium-free, but ultra-processed food is nutrient-free, and after we have a bag or two or three of the same ultra-processed food, we are still hungry. The same holds true for the low-quality content we are exposed to these days; after 4-8 hours of doom scrolling daily, there has not been anything worthwhile that will stay with us and walk with us and live in us as the years of our lives go by. A cheap laugh every ten videos, and a semi-inspirational quote every twenty, but nothing to transform us as the life of a saint, or the words of a poem of Mor Ephrem the Syrian or Mor Jacob of Serugh, or the sitting on a bench at sunset and being in complete silence and wonder at the sublime.

This theme of the spirituality of memory appears very early on in The Life of Antony where as he is walking to church when he is 18 years old, he is already reflecting on the Scriptures and contemplating questions such as his parents’ wishes; the apostles giving up everything and following the Savior; in The Acts of the Apostles where all sold their possessions and gave to those in need; and what kind of hope was laid up for them in Heaven. But quite interestingly, he did not get the answers from the Scriptures by reading, but by listening and remembering, which St. Athanasius emphasizes several times early in the book. As he walks into church thinking about these things, he hears the verse, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me” (Matthew 19:21). It answered all his thoughts, and because he was attentive, and not letting his mind wander, he heard our Lord Jesus speaking to him through the reading at the church. This is one of the things meant by “Let us attend,” which we hear so often in the liturgy.

The things we commit to memory live in us and they shape the way we see the world and how we respond to it. One time I was speaking with a priest, and he noted that when a person memorizes the Psalms, sometimes they begin praying themselves in the person who has committed them to memory. I asked this priest to pray for me, and immediately he began, and I noticed that most of the words he was using in his prayer were chained together from different psalms in the Bible. The psalms lived in him, and walked with him, and kept him just like they did with our Lord Jesus, with St. Antony, and with the multitude of saints whose words dripped with the Scriptures.

Let us read, and listen to, and remember the things that will form us: the Scriptures, the lives of the saints, their words, and deep and meaningful literature which will transform us from the inside out and will allow us to radiate the kingdom of Christ to the world.

The Kingdom of God

That brings us to another theme. Throughout The Life of Antony, there is an idea that reoccurs, which is that the devil feared the desert becoming a city of monks. In ancient Egypt, where St. Antony lived, the desert was the dwelling place of evil spirits, a place that humans could not survive in, and one that was the domain of the dead in contrast to the land near the Nile where cities developed and flourished. Yet throughout The Life of Antony, the desert becomes filled with monks (a new type of civilization) not only in the eastern desert where St. Antony lived, but also in the western deserts, where Scetis and Kellia became the most famous of all the monastic dwellings. That which formerly belonged to the demons and to the dead, was conquered by the kingdom of God living in the early monks, so that the place of death became the place of life, and the demons’ domain became cities of the kingdom of God.

That causes us to reflect that the glory of a kingdom comes from its citizens just as is true in any country. Every country has an atmosphere: kind or rough, wealthy or impoverished, luxurious or unpleasant, slow and community-oriented, or fast-paced and isolating. It all is due to its citizens and the pattern of life they radiate.

What about the kingdom of God? St. Athanasius ends his telling of The Life of St. Antony with a reflection that God glorifies those who are His even when they run away from being known, so that He could show His mighty work on the earth. We often complain about how badly the world is going (and that is often a fair assessment of the matter), but every age has seen its bad days, and perhaps that is the beginning of the realization that we belong to another kingdom, one that can be found in pockets spread out across the world, where holy men and women give us a preview of the kingdom of God in our own ages, and which inspire us to strive to pray, and fast, and not look back at bygone days, but look forward ahead to the coming of the Kingdom of Christ, and slowly on this earth, that kingdom begins to take form, and through these holy men and women, it becomes ready to accept Christ when He returns and rightfully claims His creation that He intended to live in love, glory, and communion.

Remember me in your holy prayers!

“Now great multitudes went with Him. And He turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it— lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’? Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? Or else, while the other is still a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks conditions of peace. So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple. “Salt is good; but if the salt has lost its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is neither fit for the land nor for the dunghill, but men throw it out. He who has ears to hear, let him hear!””

(Luke 14:25-35 NKJV)