12 July 2019
Over the past few days I have been putting the finish touches to next Sunday’s sermon [14 July 2019, Trinity IV]. The Gospel reading is Luke 10: 25-37, and in my sermons in Castletown Church and Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, on Sunday morning I hope to take a second look at the Parable of the Good Samaritan and to explore how we can look at in another way.
I am sure that many of my colleagues are going to focus on this parable too. But it would be a pity to miss out on the first part of the Gospel reading (verses 25-28), in which a lawyer asks Jesus, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’
Christ turns the question on the lawyer, and instead of giving him an answer asks him two other questions instead, ‘What is written in the law?’ and ‘What do you read there?’
The lawyer answers, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’
This answer includes two citations from the Law, one from the Book Deuteronomy and a second from the Book Leviticus.
The first command is: ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might’ (Deuteronomy 6: 5). This verse follows immediately after the Shema, the basic, fundamental prayer of Judaism, recited constantly and twice daily. The response to hearing God’s word and believing in God is to love God.
The Jewish theologian, Professor Michael Fishbane of the University of Chicago, says this great exhortation is at the heart of the Hebrew Bible. In The Kiss of God (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1996), he adds: ‘These words are also at the heart of Judaism and constitute its religious ideal.’
In Jewish tradition, the word love stipulates loyalty and covenantal relationship. Each of these loves demands all: all my heart, all my soul and all my might. There is a progression here, moving from my heart or mind, to expanding to my soul or life force, and culminating in my might or locus of energy.
But the lawyer interpolates or enhances this verse, quoting it as: ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.’
The addition ‘with all your mind’ (ἐν ὅλῃ τῇ διανοίᾳ σου, en ole te dianoia sou) is significant. Michael Fishbane believes this is undoubtedly a lost midrashic reading of me’odekha (‘your might’) as mada‘akha (‘your mind’).
The mediaeval Jewish philosopher and theologian Maimonides describes a kenosis or self-emptying in prayer focused on the Shema that sets the mind on the course of loving God with all one’s heart (mind), soul and might. After this discipline is perfected, one is properly prepared to attend to things pertaining to the world.
So, it is consonant with Jewish tradition that the lawyer then moves to citing as the second command: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’ (Leviticus 19: 18).
Rabbi Avika, who lived at the end of the first and beginning of the second century CE, in the midrashic commentary or Sifre on Leviticus, refers to this command as ‘the greatest principle in the Law.’
Christ then echoes a verse in the Law when he tells the lawyer: ‘You have given the right answer; do this and you will live’ (verse 28). Compare this with: ‘You shall keep my statutes and my ordinances; by doing this one shall live: I am the Lord’ (Leviticus 18: 5).
The promise of life comes not through inheritance or deeds, but through love – love of God, and love of neighbour.
I was writing last week about the Greek poet Odyssesus Elytis (1911-1996), who was born in Iraklion in Crete, and his poem, ‘The Blood of Love’ (Της αγάπης αίματα).
I discussed how his great epic poem Το Άξιον Εστί (To Axion Esti, It is Worthy), published 60 years ago in 1959, was inspired by the Greek Orthodox liturgy and the 17th century epic poetry of Crete, including the Erotokritos (Ἐρωτόκριτος) by Vikentios Kornaros.
Later, I came across some photographs I had taken in Iraklion of the life-size sculpture in Kornarou Square in Iraklion by Giannis Parmakelis, showing Erotokritos as he says farewell Aretousa.
The sculpture is probably the most modern statue in Iraklion, showing the subjects in multiple poses at one and the same time. It shows Erotokritos with two heads and his horse with three heads and six legs. The multiple forms of the hero and his horse may be confusing, but they are the sculptor’s way of expressing the movement and drama of the moment, inviting us to watch them in motion.
The poet Vikentios Kornaros (1552-1613) was born in Sitia, but grew up in Iraklion, then known as Candia and a major city in the far-flung Venetian empire. He is one of the main representatives of the Cretan Renaissance. His Erotokritos is a narrative poem or verse romance written in the 17th century in the Cretan idiom, his mother-tongue.
Erotokritos and its contemporary, Erophile by Georgios Hortatzis, constitute classic examples of Greek Renaissance literature, considered the most important works of Cretan literature.
Erotokritos runs to 10,012 15-syllable, rhymed verses, the last 12 of which refer to the poet himself. Its central theme is the love of Erotokritos – referred to only as Rotokritos or Rokritos – and Aretousa. Around this theme revolve other themes such as honour, friendship, bravery and courage.
The poet narrates the trials and tribulations suffered by two young lovers, Erotokritos and Aretousa, daughter of Heracles, King of Athens.
The setting is ancient Athens, but the world displayed is a complex construct that does not correspond to any particular historical period. Alongside references to classical Greece there are anachronisms and many elements particular to Western Europe, such as jousting.
After several years of marriage, a daughter Aretousa is born to King Heracles of Athens and his wife. The son of the faithful adviser to the king, Erotokritos, falls in love with the princess. Because he cannot reveal his love, he sings under her window in the evenings. Gradually, she falls in love with the unknown singer. When Heracles learns about the singer, he organises an ambush to arrest him, but Erotokritos with his beloved friend kill the soldiers of the king.
Erotokritos realises his love cannot have a happy ending. He travels to Chalkida on the island of Euboea to forget. During his absence, his father falls ill and when Aretousa visits him, she finds in the room of Erotokritos a painting of hers and the lyrics he sang.
When Erotokritos returns, he realises Aretousa has found his drawing and songs. His identity has been exposed and he may be at risk. He stays at home, pretending he is ill, but Aretousa sends him a basket of apples.
Erotokritos wins a jousting competition organised by the king to entertain his daughter. The couple begin to meet secretly under her window and she pleads with Erotokritos to ask her father to allow them to marry. The king is angry with the audacity of the young man and has him exiled.
Meanwhile, a marriage proposal arrives from the king of Byzantium. Before he leaves, Arethusa is engaged secretly to Erotokritos. She refuses to consider any marriage proposals and is imprisoned. Three years pass and the Vlachs besiege Athens. Erotokritos returns in disguise, saves the king in battle and is wounded.
To thank the heroic but wounded stranger, the king offers his daughter in marriage. Aretousa declines, not knowing the stranger is Erotokritos in disguise. Erotokritos finally reveals his identity, the king accepts the marriage and is reconciled with Erotokritos and his father, and Erotokritos finally ascends the throne of Athens.
Its literary contemporary, Erofili (Ερωφίλη), is the most famous and often performed tragedy of the Cretan theatre, but is a very different love story. It was written around 1600 in Rethymnon, then a Venetian city, by Georgios Chortatzis and first published in 1637 in Venice, probably after Chortatzis had died.
Chortatzis started to write Erofili at the end of the 16th century. As was custom, Erofili was written in verse. It consists of 3,205 verses in Cretan Greek, rhymed in 15-syllables, aprt from the choral parts. It is organised in five acts, with four lyrical interludes.
Filogonos, king of Memphis in Egypt, murders his brother to gain his throne and marries his widow. Filogonos has a daughter, Erofili, and raises her with Panaretos, an orphan boy of royal descent. Panaretos becomes the general of the king’s army. Erofili falls in love with Panaretos and they marry secretly.
However, Filogonos planned to wed Erofili to the heir of a rival kingdom, and he asks Panaretos to negotiate. The secret marriage becomes known and the king is enraged. Filogonos has Panaretos executed and sends his head, heart and hands as a wedding gift to his daughter. When she receives the ghoulish gift, Erofili is appalled and stabs herself to death. The chorus of maids overthrows Filogonos and kills him.
Giannis Parmakelis (Γιάννης Παρμακέλης), the creator of the sculpture of Erotokritos and Aretoussa in Kornarou Square, was born in Iraklion 87 years ago on 27 June 1932 and one of Greece’s best-known sculptors.
Parmakelis was educated in Iraklion and at the Athens School of Fine Arts, and continued his studies in Paris. He has represented Greece at many international exhibitions and Biennales. His work is anthropocentric, characterised by elliptical figures that combine solid structure and expressive mobility.
His best-known work is the Amiras Memorial in Crete, a memorial of the worst massacre in Greece during the German occupation in World War II. One critic has called this work ‘anthropocentric, abstract, and expressionistic – all at the same time.’
His memorial to ‘Ellinismos in Asia Minor’ (2014) in Iraklion is made of bronze and aluminium and commemorates the expulsion of Greeks from Anatolia in the 1920s.
Erotokritos remains a timeless masterpiece of true love, honour, friendship, courage, faith, patriotism and bravery. Its place in Greek literature is comparable to that of Romeo and Juliet in western European literature.
Several musicians in Crete have added selected parts of the poem to their music, including Christodoulos Halaris, who has composed music for the poem, and Nikos Xylouris (1936-1980). It still lives in Cretan hearts; excerpts are often recited in public, and everyone in Crete knows at least a few verses by heart.