Gospel Account Research Articles

A Brief Analysis of The Historicity of Jesus’ Resurrection

The resurrection of Jesus has been a debatable subject since the beginning of the 1st century AD; in as much as it is simple and easy to believe in the resurrection of Christ for Christians, it is not quite so in the world today, where skepticism and agnosticism dominate the culture. In the last two centuries, with various revolutions emerging, due to the prevalence of naturalistic view in the literature world, and theology, in particular, several leading scholars started a quest to re-study the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection and subsequently considered the four accounts of the four gospels to be merely a myth. This article attempts to briefly analyze the quest and, most importantly, provide legitimate evidence for the death and resurrection of Jesus. In this article, the gospels’ account is considered ancient literature since our main priority is to know whether it is historical. Therefore, the historicity of the gospel account is analyzed through the methodology employed by both the secular and religious scholars, which in turn makes the study not biased. The analysis concludes and reclaims that the account of the gospel is historical.

Transformativna hermenevtika: spremenjenje v patristični perspektivi

This article argues for the so-called transformative hermeneutics based on the Patristic interpretation Christ’s transfiguration (Mt 17:1-8; Mr 9:2-8; Lc 9:28-36). In the first part, it discusses the theoretical conceptualization to evoke a transformative meaning in biblical exegesis. In the second part, the author presents a corresponding doctrine of Origen of Alexandria who in his many works interpreted this Gospel account and elucidated some genuine transformative hermeneutical aspects.

The Relevance of John 1:1-18 for contemporary Christians

Often times, a written piece unfolds with a presentation which is somewhat introductory in nature. In this sphere, the preamble of the subject matter is unveiled and this tends to form the framework of the whole literature; in fact, a clear picture of the foreword helps the reader, audience or interpreter unravel the message of the piece because the prologue serves as a key to unlock several other parts of the book. This understanding seems inherent in the Gospel of John, one of the books that present the account of Jesus’ ministry on earth. Although, the book of John has been widely controversial, its prologue (1:1-18) is an integral portion in the account and it has received a great deal of attention because of its wholeness and its importance to the book in its entirety. This study critically engages the prologue of the Johannine Gospel with the view of ascertaining its significance and importance to the Gospel account as a whole.

The Moon Embracing the Sun: An Understanding of the Dogma of the Theotokos in relation to Mark 6:3.

The Sacred Scriptures narrated the marvelous deeds of God. It is divided into the Old Testament, which narrates God's preparation for humankind's salvation, and the New Testament, which fulfills His promise. The Gospels serve explicitly as a witness to the divine realities as it records the life and mission of Jesus Christ that He truly exists for humanity's sake. The other epistle writings found in the New Testament foretold the beginning and growth of the Church in following Christ. This paper seeks to look at the relation between the Dogma of the Theotokosand Mark 6:3 on Jesus as the Son of Mary. In presenting the said theme, the following parts are discussed: first, A Short History of the Dogma of the Theotokos by looking into the context which leads to the promulgation of the teaching; second, the Inseparability of Mary with Jesus by tackling the connection between the Mother and Son; and third, the Dogma of the Theotokos and Mark 6:3 by relating the teaching on Mark's Gospel account which is an affirmation of Catholic theology regarding the person of Jesus.

Metamorphōsis Between Ovid, The Theōsis Of Andrew Of Crete And The Byzantine Humanism Of Leo Vi

The paper addresses the Greek term μεταμόρφωσις, which links Ovid’s famous Metamorphoses with Christ’s transfiguration on the mountain (Mt 17:1–8; Mk 9:2–8; Lk 9:28–36). In addition to early Jewish mystical and apocalyptic traditions, it is Greco-Roman pagan literature that may be identified as a source for this gospel account. The latter went on to elicit a rich patristic and Byzantine response (Andrew of Crete, In transfigurationem 1 [Or. 7]; Leo VI the Wise, Hom. 10.11.39), which is the focus of the present study. The comparison of literary genres, philological and semantic analysis of the term μεταμόρφωσις, and confrontation of the different influences reveals the crucial difference between the two general contexts (pagan and Christian), at the same time enhancing our understanding of both. While Ovid’s numerous apotheoses are recognised as an important contribution, they differ from the patristic term θέωσις in their lack of inner, spiritual transformation.

The Conflicting Traditions of Portraying the Jewish People in the Chester Mystery Cycle

The article seeks to analyze the portrayal of the Jews in two plays from the Chester mystery cycle: “Trial and Flagellation” and “The Passion.” The analysis acknowledges that the cycle is a mixture of, and a dialogue between, the universal standpoint emerging from the presentation of the biblical story of humankind and a contemporary perspective, pertaining to the reality of the viewers. Therefore, while pointing to the unique formal and structural uniformity of the cycle, which strengthens the idea of continuity between the Old and the New Covenant and the role of the Israelites in the history of salvation, it also recognizes the potential of the plays to engage in the current stereotypes. The article examines how the Gospel account of Christ’s trial and death is modified through presenting the Jews as torturers, whitewashing the non-Jewish characters, and placing special emphasis on the question of Jewish ignorance. It is demonstrated how different theological and popular stances concerning the Jewish people are merged and reconciled in the Chester representation of the passion of Christ and it is argued that the plays in question retell the biblical story in such a way that the justification for the expulsion of the Jews from England could be derived from it.

Entering Into Suffering: Becoming a Transformed and Transforming Healer.

Learning how to respond to suffering is a significant challenge for healthcare providers. This interdisciplinary paper relays a Pedagogy of Suffering Model, based on research following a suffering interview project with undergraduate nursing students. The model is compared to the Gospel account of an encounter between Jesus and a Syrophoenician woman (Mark 7:24-30), supporting biblical and theological soundness of the model's transformative tasks for learning how to respond to suffering. The model can guide development of learning experiences that deepen understanding of compassionate interventions for those who suffer.

Against Patriarchy

Against Patriarchy

The Origins and Development of the Virgin Mary's Book at the Annunciation

After the Crucifixion, the Annunciation may be the most frequently portrayed scene in premodern art of the West. In nearly every representation the Virgin Mary is shown with a book as she greets the angel Gabriel. No matter where the artist has situated her—on a blank background, on a throne, in a bedroom, in a living room, in a chapel, in a church, on a portico—Mary's book is nearby. It rests in her lap or on a lectern, held open by her hand or closed with the page marked by a finger; it is a solitary volume, or drawn from an impressive library in the background. The detail of the book, like so many iconographical elements we now take for granted in biblical scenes, certainly did not come from the sole Gospel account of the Annunciation, Luke 1.26–38. Luke's stark description narrates the conversation between girl and angel when she is revealed as the Mother of God. Where, then, did the motif of Mary's book originate? What is she reading? How did the “Reading Annunciate” develop over time? What did Mary'...

Jesus and Menachem by Siegfried van Praag (review)

Reviewed by: Jesus and Menachem by Siegfried van Praag Michael Shapiro Jesus and Menachem Siegfried van Praag . Translated by Lewis C. Kaplan. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2013. 183 pp. Subtitled "A Historical Novel in the Time of the Second Temple," Jesus and Menachem was first published in Dutch in 1951. Its author, Siegfried van Praag (1899-2002), was born and raised in Amsterdam, where he attended the university and became a teacher of French. He moved to Brussells in 1936 and then to London in 1940, where he worked for the Belgian and Dutch sections of the BBC. He returned to Holland after the war, resumed teaching, and joined a circle of Jewish writers. He published a memoir, many essays, and over forty novels. Jesus and Menachem, set in first-century Palestine during the Roman occupation, reflects the plight of Jews under [End Page 129] Nazi control. It attracted the attention of Lewis C. Kaplan, a gifted student of languages, who died in 1958 before finishing the translation, recently completed by Peter Uys and Lewis Kaplan's son, Kalman J. Kaplan. Menachem appears in no Gospel account of the life of Jesus, but van Praag has invented this character, the son of a wealthy Jewish merchant, in order to write the novel from his point of view, that of a not unsympathetic, somewhat skeptical but deeply Jewish perspective. Their friendship begins with their first encounter in adolescence, when Jesus saves Menachem from stoning by hostile youths. Although Menachem finds Jesus aloof and detached, he admires his friend's courage, abhorrence of violence, and capacity for compassion. Menachem and Jesus enter adulthood in a fragmented, politicized Jewish world. The main factions are Sadducees (Hellenized Jews willing to collaborate with Rome); Pharisees (rigid adherents to the letter of the Torah); and Zealots (seeking to overthrow Roman rule by violence). Into this seething mix comes a new faction—the growing number Jesus' followers, who are loathed by the others and who return the sentiment. Van Praag has Menachem report many of Jesus' deeds recorded in the Gospels: driving the money changers out of the temple, his baptism by John, turning water into wine at Cana, the Sermon on the Mount, his defiance of Satan's temptations, betrayals by Peter and Judas, and finally his crucifixion and death. As someone who also yearns to rescue his people from their appalling condition, Menachem admires Jesus' integrity but feels that his friend's vision is both too narrow and too broad: he questions Jesus' focus on a personal salvation possible only through faith in him, as well as the availability of such salvation not only to the Jews but also to "the nations" (which historically seems to have been Paul's idea rather than Jesus'). Menachem is also troubled by Jesus' convictions that he is somehow the actual son of God and that universal salvation will only come through his own death. Menachem fears that Jesus is playing into the hands of the other Jewish factions and of the Romans, who would all welcome his death, and he accompanies his friend on the trek to Golgotha in order to protect him from his enemies and to try, unsuccessfully, to dissuade him from martyrdom. Never accepted as a disciple, he hears Jesus' last words and comforts Mary, but he is not a witness to the Resurrection and never becomes a member of the cult. In opposing the claims of competing Jewish factions in first-century Palestine, Menachem struggles to assert the unity of the Jewish people, whose salvation will come, he believes, when they accept the oneness of their [End Page 130] peoplehood despite doctrinal or political differences, treat each other with respect and compassion, and find the collective strength to offer spiritual resistance to their temporal overseers. For him, and presumably for van Praag, the Jewish people were chosen as both central agents and chief subjects of a historical process, a role they must sustain no matter what suffering it entails or what sectarian notions divide them. Through Menachem's eyes, van Praag has also produced a portrait of Jesus as charismatic if self-delusional, a portrait worthy of comparison with such other imaginative depictions...

The son that does not shine in Raphael's Transfiguration

Christ appears! That would seem to be the astounding gift that Raphael's Transfiguration, a work nearing completion at the time of the artist's premature death in 1520, delivered to its viewers (figure I). The highly accomplished artist appears to have applied all the tricks of the trade, all the sophisticated representational techniques perfected during the Italian Renaissance, to the task of rendering Christ present, in radiant glory.1 While all scholars agree that Raphael is solely responsible for the composition of the work, a number have argued that students executed significant sections of the panel, presumably after Raphael's death. Countering Jacob Burckhardt, who considered Raphael the author of the top half while pupils painted the lower half, Sydney Freedberg maintained that Raphael completed only the apostles at the lower left, while Giulio Romano finished the figures at lower right and Penni was responsible for the upper half. I am persuaded by Fabrizio Mancinelli, Curator for Medieval and Modern Art at the Vatican Museums, who concluded, following a thorough cleaning and examination of the panel, that Raphael was its nearly exclusive author. Roger Jones and Nicholas Penny endorse Mancinelli's conclusions, while Konrad Oberhuber, by not discussing pupils and referring to Raphael throughout his account as the artist of the Transfiguration, implicitly concurs. In the end, however, this connoisseurial debate holds little weight in my argument; we can treat ‘Raphael’ as a convenient name for the creator of this work, however individuated or cooperate that entity might have been. Jacob Burckhardt, The Cicerone: An Art Guide to Painting in Italy, trans. A. H. Glough (London: T. Werner Laurie, [1918; Ger. edn 1855]), p. 145; S[ydney]. J. Freedberg, Painting if the High Renaissance in Rome and Florence, 2 vols (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1961), vol. I, p.357; Fabrizio Mancinelli, A Masterpiece Close-up: the Transfiguration by Raphael, trans. Ilaria Caputi, Iain Gilmour, Antonio Giua, Linda Graham and Allan Verch (Vatican City: Vatican Museums and Galleries, [1979J), p. 48; Roger Jones and Nicholas Penny, Raphael (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1983), pp. 235-8; Konrad Oberhuber, Raphael: The Paintings (Munich: Prestel Verlag, 1999), pp. 223-9. Backed by a cloud of bluish white and robed in bleached garments, the highlighted figure of Jesus rises. He rises three times, in fact. First, thematically: the artist embellishes the event described midway through each of the synoptic gospels, where Jesus only glows, by having Christ physically float above the mountain top to which he has led his three favored apostles and where for the first time he makes visually manifest his transcendent nature. Second, compositionally: by placing the portrayal of the Transfiguration above a depiction of the episode in which the apostles left behind fail to cure a demonically possessed boy — the telling of which immediately follows the Transfiguration in each gospel account — Raphael has Christ ascend above the earthbound crowd below. And third, in relation to the viewers: because the painting itself stands at over four meters, this Jesus at life scale soars far over the heads of anyone who approaches the base of the picture.

Implicating Herodias and Her Daughter in the Death of John the Baptizer: A (Christian) Theological Strategy?

(ProQuest Information and Learning: ... denotes non-USASCII text omitted.) (ProQuest Information and Learning: ... denotes formulae omitted.) Our earliest ancient narratives of the death of John the Baptizer are found in Mark 6:14-29; Matt 14:1-12; and Josephus, Ant. 18.116-19. Interestingly, the Gospel according to John contains no account of the Baptizer s death, nor does the Gospel according to Luke, which does note, more or less in passing, that Herod acknowledged having beheaded John (9:9). Q appears to lack an account of John's death, which is also, if unsurprisingly, absent from the Gospel of Thomas and from the extant portions of the Gospel of Peter. While both the Gospel narratives and Josephus's account appear relatively straightforward, there are serious, long-noted discrepancies between Josephus, on the one hand, and the Gospels, on the other, as well as striking if subtle differences between Mark and Matthew. Further, and less well noted, aspects of Josephus's narrative are egregiously and perhaps irresolvably at odds with claims he makes elsewhere about Herod Antipas and his wife, Herodias. Unsurprisingly, then, there is an extensive secondary literature on the death of John, so much so that one might wonder what else remains to be said on the subject.1 Understanding that the nature of the evidence does not allow us to know with absolute certainty that this is the case, I argue in this article that the extant accounts in Josephus and the Gospels are best regarded as separate narratives that both cannot and should not be amalgamated, with the conclusion that the assignment of blame to a young dancer, commonly taken to be Salome, and her mother, Herodias, is historically suspect and highly unlikely. While my argument to segregate Josephus and the Gospels is unusual, numerous scholars concur that the banquet story, and thus the role of the daughter, at least is likely to be fictitious, but they rarely then go on to pursue in any detail the origins, motivations, and functions of the Gospel accounts. I, however, argue that the implication of women in the death of John the Baptist is a Christian fabrication and that, in assigning women the primary responsibility not just for the death of John but for the particular means of his execution, namely, decapitation, the Gospel narratives have their function, and probably also their beginning. They are, in my view, a response to early Christian concerns about the vexing relationship between John and Jesus, most particularly the unnerving possibility that Jesus might have been John raised from the dead. The basis for my argument is in part the significant discrepancies between Josephus and the Gospels, not merely on the details of John's death but also on the likelihood that Herodias (or even, in some manuscript traditions, Herod) had a daughter who could have been the ... described as the dancer. These discrepancies, which I will lay out in some detail, are helpful to my argument, and they are what led me to it; but they are not, ironically, the logical crux of my argument. By themselves, these discrepancies do not necessarily demonstrate that the Gospels are wrong: hypothetically Josephus might have it wrong: Mark, at least, might have it right. Furthermore, while Josephus's report happens, in this case, to alert us to difficulties in the Markan and Matthean narratives, the absence of such conflicting accounts would not warrant our assuming the truthfulness of the Gospel account. A fabricated narrative might not necessarily contain the evidence of its own fabrication. As I shall demonstrate, however, in actual fact, Mark's story is made less probable by Josephuss contrary account, by these other, less immediately apparent conflicts between the Markan account and Josephuss accounts of the Herodian period, as well as by the fact that Josephus appears to have less motivation to fabricate in this case (or even to have erroneous information). …

Designs for the Church in the Gospel Accounts of Jesus' Death

This paper focuses on the didactic function of the interpretation of Jesus' death in each of the Gospels as it is conveyed through the narrative's implicit commentary. It suggests that the evangelists tied the developing self-understanding of the emerging Christian communities to the death of Jesus. Mark interprets the church as a new ‘temple not made with hands’. Matthew relates the death of Jesus to the signs of the end-time and the hope of resurrection. Luke provides ethical instruction for the church, interpreting Jesus' martyrdom as a noble death, and John develops a rich portrait by which the church could define itself through the themes, images, and allusions of the Johannine passion narrative.

The Search for Idols and Saints in Colonial Peru: Linking Extirpation and Beatification

The Search for Idols and Saints in Colonial Peru: Linking Extirpation and Beatification

EYES WIDE SHUT: A RESPONSE TO JEAN‐LUC MARION's ACCOUNT OF THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS

AbstractIn “ ‘They Recognised Him; and He Became Invisible to Them’ ” (Modern Theology, Vol. 18 no. 2 April 2002, pp. 145–152), Marion uses the gospel account of the journey to Emmaus to argue that faith provides a conceptual interpretation of revelation after it has occurred. This response to Marion argues that what he describes is only a derivative sense of faith. In its primary sense, faith is hermeneutic; faith is an existential commitment that makes it possible for revelation to be made manifest. Contra Marion, revelation does not simply impose itself on us; rather, it must be actively received and recognised in the meaning‐filled world of a recipient's faith.

Sustaining a Sacramental Commons

AbstractAugustine described sacraments as visible signs of invisible grace, indications of the presence of the Creator in creation. Although the Christian churches later limited “sacrament” to mean only seven or two religious rituals, usually administered by a member of the clergy, U.S. Catholic bishops in 1991 described a “sacramental universe,” recalling Augustine's understanding. The “sacramental universe” is localized as the “sacramental commons”; people are called to care for it responsibly. The gospel account of Jesus' encounter with the Rich Young Man provides insights about human responsibility to share the goods of the commons as common goods, thereby sustaining the well‐being of the sacramental commons.

The Art of Memory and the Passion

The classical technique known as the ars memorativa—a system for reinforcing the memory by generating mental images within architectural spaces—has been much discussed by art historians concerned with its implications for the visual arts in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Here a passage on “striking” images from the Rhetorica ad Herennium (first century b.c.e.) is juxtaposed with a Gospel account of Christ's Passion as a way of reconfiguring our usual assumptions about the iconography and style of late medieval devotional images, specifically the Crowning of Thorns and the Portrait of Christ.

The Art of Memory and the Passion

The classical technique known as the ars memorativa—a system for reinforcing the memory by generating mental images within architectural spaces—has been much discussed by art historians concerned with its implications for the visual arts in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Here a passage on “striking” images from the Rhetorica ad Herennium (first century b.c.e.) is juxtaposed with a Gospel account of Christ's Passion as a way of reconfiguring our usual assumptions about the iconography and style of late medieval devotional images, specifically the Crowning of Thorns and the Portrait of Christ.

Étalage complaisant?: The Torments of Christ in French Passion Plays

Etalage complaisant! The Torments of Christ in French Passion Plays Véronique Plesch The study of the mystère de la Passion in France is in fact the study of the extraordinary expansion of the dramatic material , from the earliest plays of the fourteenth century to the cyclical monuments of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries which were performed over several days. This paper aims at showing how the development of sequences of the torments of Christ contributed to the general expansion of French Passion plays—its amplification to use a term from the poetic arts.1 It will also show how these violent and bloody scenes, so often misunderstood by the modern reader, are in fact far from being an "étalage complaisant des supplices du Christ, avec une fatigante multiplication de détails atroces" ("the pandering display of Christ's torture, with a tiresome multiplication of atrocious details"), as Alfred Jeanroy called them.2 These scenes are certainly not the product of the authors' sadism or even, as has been traditionally considered , aimed at satisfying the vilest and lowest instincts of the rabble.' We will see that the ways in which these scenes are expanded follow specific guidelines that in turn reveal their meaning . In other words, these scenes are expanded because they are meaningful: the modalities of their expansion are rooted in their meaning. In order to show this, I will first survey the dramatic and textual means used to amplify the scenes, then 1 will demonstrate that many of their sources can be traced back to exegetical readings and finally conclude by determining the kind of response sought by the texts likewise expanded. I base my analysis on four of the most important French Passion plays of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries: two fourteenth -century plays, the Palatine Passion4 and the Passion Sainte-Geneviève;'' and two fifteenth-century plays, the Passion a"Arras? and the Passion by Arnoul Greban.7 The scenes of 458 Véronique Plesch459 torture that will be considered take place in the Passion narrative between Christ's arrest and the departure for the way to Calvary, during the different moments of the trial of Christ.8 The question of the modalities used for the expansion of the material in French mystères has been previously addressed. For example, in her 1959 doctoral dissertation Mary Faith McKean identified five "techniques of dramatic presentation" that allowed the fatiste (the playwright) to develop the Gospel account: expansion , conversational realism, explicitation, reiteration, and objectivation of subjective notions.' These categories are still valid and can be applied to sequences of torments. "' But scenes of torments in plays are perhaps more than anything else primarily visual sequences. To state the obvious, gesture is fundamental to physical violence. To limit the staging of these scenes to a purely visual evocation—that is, to leave them mute—would give them a status secondary to scenes with words. As a result, the means of the expansion of these particular scenes are of a different order than that which McKean described. Also, gesture needs to be somehow fixed in the text, and, for this, stage directions are not sufficient. The sequences devoted to Christ's Passion before the way to Calvary are developed through an increase in the number of scenes, in the number of actors intervening and of actions performed , and through dramatic dialogue. The four Gospels provide the narrative skeleton of the story and fix the different types of torments: the mocking of Christ, the crowning with thorns, the flagellation. Over time, the Gospel accounts were complemented by scenes that, while not specifically mentioned by the Evangelists , were products of exegetical elaborations. For example, the motif of the ductio Christi" the leading of Christ from one place to the other, is an occasion for more torture. The Evangelists use the verbs duxerunt or adduxeruntr~ but do not mention the brutalities that are found in mystères such as the Passion SainteGenevi ève, the Passion d'Arras, and the Passion of Greban.'' Likewise, exegetical elaborations account for tortures occurring during the night following Christ's arrest which do not appear in the Gospels. In the Gospel of John. Christ is simply led...

The Perfect Age of Man’s Life by Mary Dove

STUDIES IN THE AGE OF CHAUCER expanded. Such a work might serve, but a fully satisfactory dictionary of Chaucer's names will require not only a more thorough and accurate presentation of what scholars have already discovered but much original research. No scholarorpress should let theexistence of this book discourage efforts to produce a better one. It gives me no pleasure to have to document in such detail the many failings of what should be one of the most valuable books on Chaucer to appear in our time. Professor de Weever has taken on a most difficult task, and she hasobviously worked hard to produce thisbook. It is heartbreaking thatthefinished product is so seriously flawedthat no user dare assumethat any entry in it is reliable. EMERSON BROWN, JR. Vanderbilt University MARY DOVE. The PerfectAge ofMansLife. Cambridge, London, and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1986. Pp. xiii, 175. $34.50. To represent the ways in which man grows up, changes, and grows old, medieval writers used a variety of numerical age divisions-the aetates hominum, or ages of man-sometimes numbered as four, sometimes as six, three, five, and seven; the numbers changed as the systems of thought changed. These phases often depended on correspondences between the microcosm and the macrocosm in relation to the natural growth cycle they shared. Thus, in the earliest theory, with Pythagorean and Hippocratic roots, the four ages, beginning withpueritia, paralleled the four seasons, starting with spring. The four ages (and seasons) also related to the four humors, sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic, making up in their balance of blood, choler, melancholy, and phlegm within the indi­ vidual a normal human being; the humors were also related to the cosmic regions dominated by the elements of fire, air, water, earth. Christian medieval views identified six ages-infantia,pueritia, adolescentia,juven­ tus, gravitas, senectus-to mirror the Augustinian schema of the days of creation and the ages of the world. The six-age system wasoften associated with biblical glosses, for example, those on the Gospel account of the six vessels at Cana. Another medieval view recognized a three-age systemyouth , middle age, old age-bolstered by the figures of the three Magi, 208 REVIEWS and a five-age system bolstered by the five hours named in the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. In contrast, the late-medieval Arabic septen­ ary view envisioned the stages of life, both thoseofman's aging and those of the embryo's growth, as corresponding to the seven planets in a system that eventually, largely as a result of Shakespeare's influence, came to supersede the other views of the ages of man. In 1986 three books on the medieval concept of the ages of man appeared- in addition to Mary Dove's book, Elizabeth Sears's The Ages of Man: Medieva/InterpretationsoftheLife Cycle (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press); and]. A. Burrow's The AgesofMan: A Study in Medieval Writing and Thought (Oxford: Clarendon Press). Each, despite overlap­ ping material, offers a slightly different approach and perspective: Sears focuses on the numbers tradition in antiquity and the Middle Ages and their popular, homiletic, and iconographic dissemination in a variety of relatedimages.Burrow, in a studylimitedtoBritishintellectual life and the history of the philosophy of nature, after an outline of the numerical concepts in the first half offers a view of the idea of naturalness mostly in medieval English writings from Bede to the end of the fifteenth century. Even more specific in her focus on philosophy and literature, Dove divides her material into three, to zero in on the middle age of man's life, that period betweenyouth and age (part 1), and, within that middle, what was known as the perfect age, theperfecta aetas, or prime (part 2), as expressed in various Ricardian poems (part 3). Dove argues that the concept of the ages of man posited a response to the threat of death and mutability either through the classical idea of media aetas as an age buffering youth from old age or as the Christian and medieval idea of "perfect age." That is, middle age was understood as a time of maturity and strength, a "perfect age" known asjuventus...