The short paper offers a critical assessment of the historical method in the recent Liturgical Subjects by D. Krueger, and extends the discussion into wider reflections on methodology of the studies of Christian liturgy and how they reflect larger shifts in early Christian studies. It is argued that thinking in terms of ‘grand narratives’ and unchanging liturgical patterns is ultimately rooted in the academic agendas of the nineteenth century. It is also suggested that the quest for innovative approaches to liturgical research should account for both new methodologies introduced and the historical insights of traditional scholarship.
Big things sometimes reveal themselves conspicuously in small ones, and central shifts can be most apparent in peripheral ebbs and flows. What comes below are remarks and reflections on the methodology of liturgical studies that are sparked off by a book of which both the topic and perspective are largely marginal to them – a monograph on the cultural construction of subjectivity in Byzantine hymnography. Still, what emerges from reading Derek Krueger’s Liturgical Subjects (henceforth LS),1 quite surprisingly, can offer valuable insights into the wider issues of the state of liturgical research, its ultimate methodological assumptions, and how they relate – or not – to the ongoing developments in early Christian studies at large.
Monograph-size studies of Byzantine hymns and liturgy are a rare treat. The LS as one such book is simply destined to become a landmark in contemporary scholarship in the field of Byzantine hymnography and liturgy. The book has received exclusively glowing reviews,2 so the presentation that follows does not have to give a comprehensive overview of its structure and scope. Rather, I will offer a critical discussion of how, and whether, the central argument of the LS works, and expand on the broader implications for the field which my analysis suggests.
2 Questions the LS Asks: Historicizing the Liturgical Self in Byzantium
In the LS, Krueger self-consciously seeks to offer a discussion which would go beyond the traditional liturgical studies of the twentieth century in terms of methodology while building on the insights gained in them.3 He ventures into more theoretically aware avenues of research and addresses the questions of self as constructed in liturgical poetry4 and thereby instilled on the lay believer exposed to it in the context of church services.5 The LS purports to chart historical change in the frames of subjectivity in Byzantium as they are constructed in, and imparted through, liturgical texts, and the ideological agendas these processes.6 This is indeed a promising research prospect.
The narrative which the LS offers is, however, deliberately selective. In the Introduction, Krueger makes a point of narrowing down his scope to texts composed in Constantinople authors of liturgical poetry. This seems a wise choice to make, as Byzantine liturgical hymns (if only those composed in Constantinople) are too vast a subject for a single monograph. The reader is therefore left with the expectation of finding tightly focused case studies of specific historical contexts where particular authors are set, and of the patterns of liturgical subjectivities which these contexts engender.
As my expertise is not wide enough to engage with all the ground covered in the book, I will follow Krueger’ reasonable tackle of the range of the topics and offer a selective set of probes into the argument of the LS. I will focus on the earlier material (sixth century AD) and use my exposition as a springboard for a more general discussion of the internal logic of the LS and of how it relates to the wider trends in early Christian studies and the scholarship on Christian liturgy in particular.
3 Liturgical Subjectivities and the Great Lent: Finding the ‘Penitential Self’
Insights which the LS provides are interesting and thought-provoking. For instance, one cannot but find compelling (if one is fond of this kind of scholarship) the exposition of how the ‘penitential self’ is conjured up through the I-statements of the penitent ‘literary persona’ of the Great Canon by Andrew of Crete (Chapter 5). Equally engaging is the discussion of the penance-centred liturgical subjectivity instilled on believers through the Lent Triodion, a work of presumably monastic authors associated with the Stoudite monastery (Chapter 6). The contextualizing of both the Canon and the Triodion within the Great Lent usefully highlights the penitential frameы suggested in the texts.
If one was to begin reading the LS from Chapters 5 or 6 coming straight from the statement of the research agenda in the Introduction, one would eagerly proceed to the other chapters expecting equally rewarding case-studies of the developing and changing liturgical selves. This is, however, not what the book offers: the discussion of the Great Canon does not come till the in the second part of the monograph, and is preceded by an exposition of self in Justinianic epoch. As I will argue, the model of ‘penitential conscience’ made in the earlier chapters, as crucial as it is for Krueger’s theory of the longue durée of the Byzantine ‘penitential self’, hinges on a number of interpretative failures. These are also illustrative of the wider issues I have with the overall argument of the LS.
4 Romanos and the ‘Penitential Self’
In Chapter 2 the reader is offered a vision of Romanos the Melodists’ predominantly penitential liturgical subjectivity (based on eight hymns mainly), which, it is argued, runs across his hymns. Sung at urban vigils, the hymns had a wide popular appeal, and allegedly made for an effective medium of instilling the pattern of introspectively penitential conscience on lay audiences in the 6th century Constantinople.
It is a perfectly justifiable exercise to single out contexts where Romanos speaks of compunction and prays for redemption of sins. What is problematic is the way in which broad conclusions are drawn from the limited discussion of Romanos’ hymns in the LS, and particularly the manner of inscribing these in the wider narrative of Byzantine ‘penitential self’.
First, episodes and vocabulary of compunction, for all their uncontested presence in Romanos, do not come close in sheer number to other frames of feeling, which are equally liturgical and can therefore be ‘instilled’ on the lay believer. Without going into more subtle analysis of the ‘liturgical emotions’ evoked by Romanos’ hymns, I will take a brief look at the refrains of the extant genuine hymns by Romanos and offer a rough taxonomy of their basic emotive tenor. As Krueger himself admits, they were probably sung jointly by the whole congregation,7 and as such are an easy way to access the liturgical emotions shared by the congregants and intended by the poet.
Out of the 59 hymns traditionally seen as genuine, a stunningly small number of three have refrains expressly thematizing repentance or sinfulness.8 Refrains in the other hymns overwhelmingly share a general frame of spiritual joy, however we classify them further (which is indeed a matter of convention, as both the ‘tags’ and whether specific refrains should bear them remains sub judice). Thirteen may be tagged ‘exultant’, as they focus on an intense feeling of joy;9 another thirteen put a larger stress on glorifying God or saints, and may take the label of ‘reverent’.10 The dominant majority of refrains (twenty two) convey the idea of assurance in God’s help and salvation.11 All together, these positive emotive frames in the refrains account for 46 hymns. The bulk of Romanos’ liturgical output no doubt outweighs the four hymns where the refrains are arguably penitential (and the hymns suggested by Krueger as espousing penance as the core Christian emotion), even if we were to couple those with other non-positive emotional messages in refrains: ‘anxiety about salvation’ (four)12 and ‘assurance of imminent judgement’ (two).13 As this very basic outline clearly suggests (and it would be borne out by a close reading of the actual texts even more), Romanos is a poet of immense certainty in salvation given by God’s grace, and of exultation in this assurance; for him, concerns about sinfulness and the need for redemption are peripheral. Krueger’s selective approach here reaches the point where it simply does not do justice to the nature of his subject. In underscoring the penitential passages and analyzing their underlying patterns of subjectivity, he obliterates the prevailing emotional frames in Romanos, for which equally compelling analyses of ‘exultant selves’ could be easily offered.
It comes as a natural hypothesis that the label of ‘penitential’ forced on Romanos’ hymns en masse is introduced in the interests of the larger narrative of the Byzantine ‘penitential self’ construed in the LS. Extrapolation from limited evidence supporting his broader argument is, unfortunately, what we see in the book quite often, and can be see e.g. in another instance from Krueger’s exposition of the 6th century developments discussed in the next section.
5 Novella 137: enforcing the ‘penitential self’ under Justinian?
Chapter 4 on compunction in Eucharistic prayers includes a detailed discussion of Justinian’s Novella 137 passed in 565 AD. Following the lead of R. Taft, Krueger is right of course in putting a lot of emphasis on the rare occasion of legislation directly engaging with the liturgy. Unfortunately, Krueger’s understanding of the law as driven specifically by clerics’ concerns about imposing patterns on penitential subjectivity on laity is misconstrued, and the way he uses it to underpin his grand narrative of Byzantine ‘penitential selves’ is deeply flawed.
The novella is an extensive legal guide to consecrating clerics and bishops; its stipulations are many and concern doctrinal, devotional, and personal aspects of a potential nominee for such posts. Only at the very end of it comes the part which Krueger makes much of – the additional requirement that bishops and clerics say anaphoral prayers out loud rather than silently. Reading the novella as a joined effort by the state and clerics to promote penance through the text of anaphoral prayers, Krueger makes a broad point that in this piece of Justinian’s legislation, we have a full-blown Byzantine ‘theory of religion’ centred around the ideas of liturgical compunction.14
I would have difficulty finding a true statement in this interpretation. First, the text of the Novella is curtailed in the LS in such a way that the penitential character of the prayers is highlighted, while the other, more significant, emphasis is simply left out. In reality, reading anaphoral (and baptismal) prayers out loud is ordered so that “the souls of those hearing them would rise up to full compunction and glorification of our Lord God” (emphasis added).15 ‘Compunction’ is clearly only one of the two feelings to be instilled through the exposure to prayers, and is also subordinate to glorification of God and thankfulness to him for providing salvation. The Scriptural fragments following the stipulation support this aspect only, and leave the penitential streak unsubstantiated.16 Similarly to his interpretation of Romanos, Krueger’s peculiar selectivity here misrepresents the evidence, and therefore undermines his argument.
As for ‘clerics’ and ‘state’ imposing their spiritual agendas on lay believers through the law, this assertion is as suggestive as it is vague. Justinian’s personal agency behind his legislation remains a fundamentally unchallenged fact, for all the subtleties of the procedure like Tribonian’s contribution to the fine-tuning of their diction, or the possible input from the praetorian prefect John of Cappadocia.17 Suggesting a generic clerical agency behind the Novella, as Krueger does, is to ignore the legislative workings under Justinian in favour of an interpretation which is as far-fetched as it is handy for the LS’s overall narrative of liturgical theorizers imposing their frameworks of self on lay people.
To sum up: at least two crucial points about the 6th century liturgical subjectivities made in the LS do not hold, on closer examination. The narrative of the Byzantine liturgical ‘penitential self’, therefore, at best jumps the gun starting as it does in the 6th century. But can the narrative really work for later epochs?
6 Building the Grand Narrative: Shifting Epochs, Applying Labels
I will now focus on a few general problems with the methodology of putting together a coherent narrative of Byzantine liturgicality in the LS. As suggested earlier in the discussion of the 6th century as presented in the LS, they are: unwarranted extrapolation, misguided selectivity, and ultimately the preponderance for building essentially trans-historical grand narratives of unchanging gestalts.
As we have seen with Romanos’ hymns, there is a forcible transposition of the lens of ‘penitential self’, which is quite at home in the Great Canon but arguably out of place in Romanos. I suggest that similar transpositions are there in how other parts of the LS’ narrative are constructed. Tags, or labels, encapsulating the crucial interpretative concepts, which underpin the narrative of authors of liturgical texts (predominantly monastic) constructing the ubiquitous ‘penitential self’ and instilling it on (predominantly lay) audiences, are applied to a variety of textual evidence from different epochs, both where they are warranted and where they are not. This can be illustrated in the table below:
By suggesting in different ways18 that the discussed authors and their texts yield themselves to these conceptual tags, Krueger makes his broad point of ‘penitential self’ as the perennial Byzantine liturgical subjectivity invariably present from the sixth century on and predominantly imposed by monastic circles on lay believers. As even a brief look at the table shows (which brings together only basic facts mostly acknowledged in the LS), there are two bulks of liturgical texts which essentially comply with Krueger’s narrative: Andrew of Crete’s Great Canon and the Lent Triodion originating from the Stoudite monastery. As I pointed out opening my discussion of the LS, for these texts Krueger’s analysis is relevant and insightful, if somewhat trivial: they are hymnic compositions designed specifically for the Lent period, after all.19 For the other contexts, Krueger’s points are only selectively true: when they are not, the book’s narrative offers ingenious, at times quite elegant, re-framing of the textual evidence discussed, which superimposes the desired labels of ‘liturgical’ or ‘monastic’ on works and contexts which are not so.
The cardinal shortcoming of the LS as a historical narrative of the patterns of ‘liturgical self’ in Byzantium is therefore that the account offered is stunningly blind to the very essence of history – that of changes and the dynamics between innovation of continuity.20 By forcing the perspective of penance-centred subjectivity inalterably present in liturgical texts from the sixth century on, Krueger effectively21 omits to speak of the breaks, discontinuities, and fissures, misplacements and new beginnings in the patterns of subjectivities offered in them.
7 Back to the Future? The LS, Twentieth-Century Liturgical Studies, and Recent Developments in Research
Surprisingly also, Krueger’s grand narrative, heedful of ever-present patterns of self and insensitive to changes and diversity of local and historical minutiae, is uncannily reminiscent of the methodological frames of the mainstream liturgical studies of the 20th century. For all their attention to tiny details of e.g. anaphoral formulas and the interest in historical change (setting them quite apart from Krueger’s thinking), on a deeper level they tend to operate on the fundamental assumption (which usually go unreflected) of pure liturgical ‘types’ unfailingly recognizable over centuries (e.g. the major ‘liturgical families’ with further sprawling sub-groups), which evolve from solidly identifiable types, or sources. As has been suggested by a prominent theorist of early Christian culture, this framework of tackling the kaleidoscopic diversity of liturgical patterns of a given epoch by tracing them down to few Ur-sources is informed by the academic grand narrative of prototypes manifesting themselves in varying forms across epochs rather than by seeing the variety as signs of the ongoing tensions between contemporary communities, which were doctrinally and devotionally different and therefore chose to stick to varying liturgical rites.22
In this perspective, the overall perspective embraced in the LS, for all its thrust towards innovative methodology, is couched in the ideology and tacit assumptions of the traditional liturgical studies, which are also inextricably entangled in the 19th century academic thinking, inspired as they are by a Hegelian quest for perennial forms and their (trans)historical manifestations. Somewhat inexplicably, in his search for a newer approach to the Byzantine liturgical subjectivity Krueger chose not to make use of the academic insights into early Christian theologies of self (including monastic anthropologies, which would have come in particularly handy for a discussion of the penitential streak in it),23 the recent frameworks of looking at individuality in late antique religions,24 or the discussions of the connection between liturgy and doctrinal belief, both new and established.25 Instead, while relying on a Foucauldian framework of Christian ascetical self (whose immediate applicability to the eastern material may also raise questions), he effectively perpetuates the assumptions of the earlier mainstream scholarship by suggesting a self-conscious theory of a perennial Byzantine liturgical pattern in subjectivity construction.
This methodological mindset sets the LS apart, quite drastically, from the recent developments in early Christian studies, which have been about a dramatic shift away from narratives of normative uniformity (in doctrine and devotional practices) to discovering a bustling variety of belief and modes of devotion.26 An increasing number of studies of Christian liturgy is also turning to the perspective informed by a quest for sociologically informed ideas of complexity and diversity, and the tight links between liturgical and wider cultural developments of an epoch.27
The criticism offered in these reflections on the LS is in no way conceived as a destructive attack. On the contrary, the very harshness of my review arises out of a profound realization of how crucial it is to make a definitive step forward in the methodologies of liturgical studies, and of how significant every step in this direction is. For all its disappointments, the LS stands as a powerful reminder of the research paths out there to be taken, and the opportunities – but also dangers – awaiting those who venture to follow them.
1 D. Krueger, Liturgical Subjects: Christian Subjects, Biblical Narrative, and the Formation of the Self in Byzantium, Philadelphia, 2014.
2 See I. Biliarsky’s in Speculum, 91 (2016), pp. 224–226, T. Woodfin’s in JEH, 67 (2015), pp. 161–162, H. Wybres’s in CHR, 101 (2015), pp. 602–603 (DOI 10.1353/cat.2015.0145), G. Demacopoulos’ at the BMCR (http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2015/2015-03-55.html), R. Ricceri’s in Byzantion, 85 (2015), pp. 501–503, T. Arentzen’s in JECS, 23 (2015), pp. 636–638 (DOI 10.1353/earl.2015.0046), Y. Kim’s in the online Medieval Review (https://scholarworks.dlib.indiana.edu/journals/index.php/tmr/article/view/20178/26270).
3 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, p. 3: “In a 2006 book, liturgical historian Robert Taft explored how Byzantines saw the liturgy ‘through their own eyes’ … Liturgical Subjects shifts this investigation to consider how Byzantine Christians came to view themselves through the liturgy.”
4 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, p. 6: “Working at the intersection of Byzantine Christian religious culture and contemporary critical approaches to the history of subjectivity, this book explores Orthodox liturgy as a mechanism for the formation of interiority.” See also Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, pp. 7–8 for the Foucauldian framework of the ‘Christian self’ taken up in the book.
5 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, pp. 6–8, also passim.
6 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, p. 1: “Changes to the liturgy …come with rationales. Those rationales reveal indigenous theories of ritual”; programmatic is also the statement on p. 2, which flags an intention to trace shifts in ‘liturgical selves’ over epochs: “Eutychios’s innovation also reflects broader shifts in Christian self-understanding … in the course of the sixth century”; p. 3: “I trace continuities and developments across the so-called Dark Ages.”
7 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, pp. 30–31, 79.
8 Nos 10, 12, 17. Numeration of hymns follows the edition Sancti Romani Melodi Cantica: Cantica Genuina, ed. P. Maas, C. Trypanis, Oxford, 1963.
9 Nos 1, 3, 6, 9, 20, 24–26, 35, 47, 55, 57, 58.
10 Nos 2, 5, 7, 13, 19, 21, 30, 31, 33, 36, 37, 43, 49.
11 Nos 4, 8, 11,14, 16, 17, 18, 23, 27, 28, 29, 32, 39, 41, 42, 45, 46, 51, 53–54, 56, 59.
12 Nos 40, 48, 50, 59.
13 Nos 33, 34.
14 Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, p. 108.
15 Just. Nov. 137: πρὸς τὸ κἀντεῦθεν τὰς τῶν ἀκουόντων ψυχὰς εἰς πλείονα κατάνυξιν καὶ τὴν πρὸς τὸν δεσπότην θεὸν διανίστασθαι δοξολογίαν.
16 Just. Nov. 137: οὕτως γὰρ καὶ ὁ θεῖος ἀπόστολος διδάσκει, λέγων ἐν τῇ πρὸς Κορινθίους πρώτῃ ἐπιστολῇ· ἐπεὶ ἐὰν εὐλογήσῃς τῷ πνεύματι, ὁ ἀναπληρῶν τὸν τόπον τοῦ ἰδιώτου πῶς ἐρεῖ τὸ ἀμὴν τῷ θεῷ ἐπὶ τῇ σῇ εὐχαριστίᾳ; ἐπειδὴ τί λέγεις οὐκ οἵδε. σὺ μὲν γὰρ καλῶς εὐχαριστεῖς, ἀλλ’ ὁ ἕτερος οὐκ οἰκοδομεῖται. καὶ πάλιν ἐν τῇ πρὸς Ῥωμαίους οὕτως λέγει· καρδίᾳ μὲν γὰρ πιστεύεται εἰς δικαιοσύνην, στόματι δὲ ὁμολογεῖται εἰς σωτηρίαν.
17 On this see e.g. the classic T. Honoré, Tribonian, London, 1978. A good overview is M. Maas, “Roman History and Christian Ideology in Justinianic Reform Legislation,” DOP, 40 (1986), pp. 17–31.
18 E.g. by introducing ‘liturgy’ as a casual label for a peculiar penitential rite mildly suggested to novice monks as an optional private rite: Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, р.204 f.
19 The perceived novelty of Krueger’s argument also hinges to a degree on his failure to engage with the question of how much, and in what ways, the penitential patterns of subjectivities were in fact farther projections of the well-established thinking of penance in early Christianity outside of liturgical texts, most significantly in ascetical theorizing. A recent dedicated study of these questions by A. Torrance, Repentance in Late Antiquity: Eastern Asceticism and the Framing of the Christian Life c. 400–650 CE, Oxford, 2014, features disappointingly little in Krueger’s discussion. Among the many older studies of penance and liturgy see B. Godan, “Penance Rites of the West Syrian Liturgy: Some Liturgical and Theological Implications,” Irish Theological Quarterly, 42 (1975), pp. 182–196.
20 Illustrative are such declarations as e.g. “Byzantine Christians learned to apply the penitential Bible to themselves” (Krueger, Liturgical Subjects, p.218), “an introspective conscience emerged and flourished in Byzantium independent of Augustine … it was embedded in distinctively Byzantine ways of narrating and interpreting salvation history” (pp. 218–219); “The conception of the sinful self took shape in Byzantium … and was mediated in ritual practices by means of hymnography and prayer” (p. 219). These, and the like, assertions relying on the vision of a ‘Byzantine’ self as semper idem manifesting its fundamentally unchanging nature across epochs are at the core of Krueger’s thinking in the LS.
21 Although he does profess to have an eye open for changes in the Introduction, and stresses ‘historicizing’ in the Conclusion.
22 J. Elsner, “Piety and Passion: Contest and Consensus in the Audiences for Early Christian Pilgrimage,” in: Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman and Early Christian Antiquity: Seeing the Gods, ed. J. Elsner, J. Rutherforth, Oxford, 2005, p. 432 f. See also a critical discussion of the assumptions underlying M. Arranz’s perspective on anaphoral types in early monuments in D. Galadza, “«Les grandes étapes de la liturgie byzantine» de Miguel Arranz, quarante ans après”, in: 60 semaines liturgiques à Saint-Serge. Bilans et perspective nouvelles, ed. A. Lossky, G. Sekulovski, Münster, 2016, pp. 295–310.
23 Grounding the theoretical perspective in contemporary early Christian categories would be relevant in a work aiming for historicizing of frameworks of self – see e.g. the now classic G. Stroumsa, “‘Caro salutis cardo’: Shaping the Person in Early Christian Thought,” History of Religions, 30 (1990), pp. 25–50; R. F. Newbold, “Personality Structure and Response to Adversity in Early Christian Hagiography,” Numen, 31 (1984), pp. 199–215; W. Mayer, “Shaping the Sick Soul: Reshaping the Identity of John Chrysostom,” in: Christians Shaping Identity from the Roman Empire to Byzantium: Studies Inspired by Pauline Allen, ed. D. Geoffrey, W. Mayer, Boston, 2015, pp. 140–164 (incidentally, these last two say a lot about Christian guilt); Religious Dimensions of the Self in the Second Century CE, ed.J. Rüpke, G. Woolf, Tübingen, 2013.
24 Religious individuality is much discussed within the framework of ‘lived religion’ developed in reference to later imperial religions (including early Christianity) by J. Rüpke – see e.g. Reflections on Religious Individuality. Greco-Roman and Judaeo-Christian Texts and Practices, ed. J. Rüpke, W. Spickermann, Berlin, 2012; Group Identity and Religious Individuality in Late Antiquity, ed. É. Rebillard, J. Rüpke, Washington, 2015; other recent works include Individuality in Late Antiquity, ed. J. Zacchuber, A. Torrance, Farnham, 2014; Between Personal and Institutional Religion: Self, Doctrine, and Practice in Late Antique Eastern Christianity, ed. B. Bitton-Ashkelony, L. Perrone, Turnhout, 2015.
25 The all-time classics is of course M. Wiles, The Making of Christian Doctrine: a Study in the Principles of Early Doctrinal Development, London, 1976; see also R. Lyman, “Lex orandi: Heresy, Orthodoxy, and Popular Religion,” in: The Making and Remaking of Christian Doctrine: Essays in Honour of Maurice Wiles, ed. S. Coakley, D. Pailin, M. Wiles, Oxford, 1993, pp. 131–143. Newer approaches are explored in e.g. S. Coakley, “Beyond ‘Belief’: Liturgy and the Cognitive Apprehension of God,” in: Vocation of Theology Today: a Festschrift for David Ford, ed. T. Greggs, R. Muers, S. Zahl, Eugene, 2013, pp. 131–145
26 Only a tiny list of most emblematic publications highlighting diversity of Christian doctrines from the earliest epoch on would include W. Bauer, Rechtgläubigkeit und Ketzerei im ältesten Christentum, Tübingen, 1934; A. Le Boulluec, La notion d’hérésie dans la littérature grecque, IIe–IIIe siècles, Paris, 1985; J. Goehring, “Monastic Diversity and Ideological Boundaries in Fourth-Century Christian Egypt,” JECS,5 (1997), pp. 61–84, DOI 10.1353/earl.1997.0028; L. Ayres, Nicaea and its Legacy: an Approach to Fourth-Century Trinitarian Theology, Oxford, 2004; The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 2, Constantine to c. 600, ed. A. Casiday, F. Norris, Cambridge, 2007; E. Rebillard, Christians and Their Many Identities in Late Antiquity, North Africa, 200–450 CE, Ithaca, 2012; J. Rüpke, From Jupiter to Christ: on the History of Religion in the Roman Imperial Period, Oxford, 2014; H. Lundhaug, L. Jenott, The Monastic Origins of the Nag Hammadi Codices (Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum, 97), Tübingen, 2015.
27 See e.g. M. van Esbroeck, “L’implication eucharistique dans le milieu antichalcédonien”, in The Eucharist in Theology and Philosophy, ed. I. Perczel, F. Réka, G. György, Leuven, 2005, pp. 67–80; Ph. Booth, “Orthodox and Heretic in the Early Medieval Cult of saints,” in: An Age of Saints?: Power, Conflict, and Dissent in Early Medieval Christianity, ed. P. Sarris, M. Dal Santo, P. Booth, Leiden, 2011; D. Krausmüller, “Liturgical Innovation in Eleventh- and Twelfth-Century Constantinople: Hours and Inter-Hours in the Evergetis Typikon, its ‘Daughters’ and its ‘Grand-Daughters’,” RÉB, 71 (2013), pp. 149–172; Ph. Booth, Crisis of Empire: Doctrine and Dissent at the End of Late Antiquity, Berkeley, 2014.
See e.g. M. van Esbroeck“L’implication eucharistique dans le milieu antichalcédonien” in The Eucharist in Theology and Philosophyed. I. Perczel F. Réka G. György Leuven 2005 pp. 67–80; Ph. Booth “Orthodox and Heretic in the Early Medieval Cult of saints” in: An Age of Saints?: Power Conflict and Dissent in Early Medieval Christianity ed. P. Sarris M. Dal Santo P. Booth Leiden 2011; D. Krausmüller “Liturgical Innovation in Eleventh- and Twelfth-Century Constantinople: Hours and Inter-Hours in the Evergetis Typikon its ‘Daughters’ and its ‘Grand-Daughters’” RÉB 71 (2013) pp. 149–172; Ph. Booth Crisis of Empire: Doctrine and Dissent at the End of Late Antiquity Berkeley 2014.