Stephanos helped them with their luggage as they checked into Athens’s most famous hotel, frequented by the crowns of Europe and greats of the past and present.
“I hope you have good rest after your flight,” he said. “And I pick you up in the morning at ten o’clock. Will that be all right? Our appointment with the archbishop is at ten thirty.”
“Excellent, Father Stephanos,” Jon said. “You’ve been most kind. Ef charisto! ”
“Parakalo.”
Next morning at the appointed hour, they arrived at the headquarters of Hey Ekklesia Hellenike -known more commonly as the Greek Orthodox Church. A smiling Christodoulos II received them, the holy archbishop of Athens and all of Greece. He was a tall, imposing figure, attired, like Stephanos, in solid black. His salt-and-pepper beard provided a modest contrast, reflecting a man of sixty-seven maturing years. In many ways, because of a very lofty forehead, Jon thought he looked like Pericles himself, though without the helmet.
“Welcome, Professor and Mrs. Weber,” he opened in excellent English.
“Ine megali timi Makariotate, na’houme afton ton hrono mazi sas,” Jon returned in Greek, which he hoped would pass for “It’s a great honor, Your Beatitude, to have this time with you.”
“Your Greek is excellent, Dr. Weber,” the archbishop replied, “but please to use English. I love the English language and don’t have chance enough to use it.”
“I’m grateful for that, Your Beatitude,” Shannon said. While his wife’s New Testament Greek was as good as any scholar’s, Jon knew she was not familiar with modern, conversational Greek, which was markedly different.
“I am glad,” the archbishop continued, “that the fierce Muslim debate over that translation matter in your book seems to have ceased. When the news first reached Athens, I looked up that passage in the Greek edition of your book-and I saw that it was rendered correctly.”
Jon expressed his thanks, then came to the point of their meeting: the biblical manuscript project, which he explained in full detail. Would the archbishop be kind enough to look over a preliminary list Jon and Shannon had compiled of libraries and archives in Greece known for their ancient manuscripts, and provide any corrections or addenda? He easily agreed.
Jon’s next request, he worried, was more daunting. Might the archbishop be generous enough to provide them a letter of introduction that would be useful in establishing their credibility when they or their teams arrived at a given archive and desired permission to photograph the biblical manuscripts in their collection? Jon had prepared a list of safeguards, which he handed to the archbishop: 1. The librarian or archivist on location may always exercise his veto, with or without explanation. 2. All photography will be undertaken with utmost care so as not to inflict damage in any way on the precious materials involved. No flash photography will be employed in the process so as not to cause any fading of the texts. (Digital photography obviates any such need, provided that normal light sources are available.) 3. Full credit lines will be added to all photo collections and in all publications thereof. 4. A complete set of the resulting photographs will be deposited at all libraries and archives kind enough to permit such photography. 5. All commentary accompanying the collections involved will first be checked with the authorities at each location prior to publication.
Archbishop Christodoulos II studied the list and then excused himself to show it to the general secretary of the archdiocese in another office.
Jon smiled nervously at Shannon as they waited for what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes. What if they couldn’t pass even first base on their venture? Should they have done more preliminary correspondence first? Yes, they whispered to one another, they probably should have. Would have, in fact, had the translation crisis not commandeered all of their time.
Christodoulos reappeared with another document in his hand. “Please to forgive me, honored friends, for making you wait,” he explained. “Our general secretary called in several other advisers, and a debate followed. And wouldn’t you expect that of Eastern Orthodox theologians?”
“Of course,” Jon chuckled, relieved to learn what had caused the delay. He was well aware that even in the ancient church, it was the eastern half of it-the Greek-speaking East-that always loved to split theological hairs in debates that could rage on for decades, even centuries, compared to the more practical Latin church in the West that quickly came up with reasonable solutions.
Now the archbishop’s smile faded into a frown. “Unfortunately, we cannot approve your list as it now stands.”
Jon shot a glance at Shannon that said, Well, our worst fears are nicely confirmed.
“But there will be no problem,” the archbishop added, a twinkle in his eye, “if you will add a sixth condition, which we have written out. It is similar to provision five, but stronger.” He handed Jon and Shannon the second document. 6. Except in the case of heretical writings, if upon reading the ancient texts in the photographs, a word, phrase, or paragraph appears that seems in any way to contradict, threaten, or imperil the holy, ecumenical beliefs of Eastern Orthodoxy, the text or translation editor(s) must report this immediately to the offices of the archbishop of Athens rather than making that text public. Nor shall they in any way publicize this text but instead promise to keep this information absolutely confidential until it is released by the archbishop.
When Jon frowned a bit while reading, Christodoulos commented, “Please understand, dear friends, that this is not intended as censorship, but rather as a measure that will alert us to give a proper answer for such an item, should it arise.”
Jon brightened. “In that sense, we can certainly sympathize with your concerns, Your Beatitude, since worthless reinterpretations of Jesus and the church that he founded are all the rage in the print and electronic media today. Our sensationalist novelists and theologians would just love to twist some obscure line in an ancient source to discredit Christianity. We’ll gladly accept stipulation six.”
“Fine, then. We shall be happy to write your letter of introduction with the stipulations listed and send it by courier to… Where are you staying?”
“At the Grande Bretagne.”
“Excellent. It will be done.”
As they were standing to leave, Jon, in a carefully rehearsed afterthought, asked, “By the way, Your Beatitude, among the many fine textual scholars in the Church of Greece, who, in your estimation, is the foremost authority on early Greek orthography?”
“Classical Greek or koine?”
“ Koine. I should have specified that.”
“Ah, the language of the New Testament and the early church fathers. Well, this question is very easy to answer. Our outstanding authority here is Father Miltiades Papandriou at Oros Agiou.”
Jon concurred with a smile. “Had you replied with any other name, I would have asked you, ‘Why not Papandriou at Mount Athos?’”
“So then, you were only ‘testing me,’ as it were?” he asked. If Christodoulos had been frowning, it would have been a sure sign that Jon had stepped over the line. But the genial archbishop had a broad smile.
“No, it was just a case of reconfirmation. Father Miltiades is famed the world over for his ability to scan Greek lettering and slot it accurately into the nearest half century.”
“Probably the nearest quarter century or even decade!” the archbishop chuckled. “Do you plan to consult with Father Miltiades?”
Shannon quickly replied, “We’d be delighted to do that, Your Beatitude, if that were possible.”
Christodoulos shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, Madame Weber, that is not possible. Not possible… for you,” he emphasized, then smiled. “But I can easily arrange it for your husband.”
“Oh, that’s right; do pardon my error!” she replied. “No female can enter the monastery enclave on Mount Athos!”
“Quite right, Madame Weber. Perhaps someday that will change, but that someday has not yet arrived. Shall I prepare a letter of introduction also for Father Miltiades, Professor Weber?”
“I would then be doubly grateful to you, Your Beatitude. We would also like his evaluation of a Greek text my wife found at Pella in Jordan some months ago.” The words were out before Jon quite realized what he was saying. What if the archbishop wanted to know more about that text? At least, thank God, he had not used the term manuscript.
“Kalos,” Christodoulos replied. “I shall do so and send the letter along with the other material.”
Jon breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “Do you think Father Miltiades will be amenable to my visit?”
