Gotowa bibliografia na temat „Nea Monē (Monastery)”

<p>Nikos Oikonomides</p><p> The Judicial Privilege of Nea Moni on Chios</p><p>Emperor Constantine IX Monomachos granted (1045) to the monastery of Nea Moni on Chios a judicial privilege: any action against the monastery should be brought to court in front of the imperial tribunal only (<em>JGR</em> I, 629-631).</p><p>In the present article it is argued that this privilege has nothing to do with the western <em>immunitas</em>, because the privilege does not give the monastery any right to judge other people. The privilege is compared to the similar ones granted to the monasteries of Lavra (963-964) and Iviron (1079). And it is interpreted as an effort to protect the founders of Nea Moni, who were seemingly spiritual mysticists, from the monastic establishment of Constantinople, especially the cenobitic Stoudiou movement.</p><p>In fact, as we learn from Psellos, the founders of Nea Moni were eventually accused and condemned of heresy by the imperial tribunal under empress Theodora (1055-56), but were later re-instated thanks to the support of Patriarch Michael Keroularios.</p><p> </p>

In this article, which is based on unpublished materials from the Russian archives and Romanian sources which are practically unknown in Russia, the activities of Russian Lieutenant-Colonel Nazar Aleksandrovich Karazin are described. Karazin was a secret emissary of Empress Catherine II in the Principality of Wallachia at the beginning of the Russian-Turkish War of 1768–74, and later the commander of an independent partisan detachment with a special assignment in the Danube theatre of war, acting separately from the main forces of the Russian army. Based on the new material, this article clarifies the geography and chronology of Karazin’s walking trip (in the guise of a pilgrim monk) to Bucharest in the spring of 1769. Moving through Galich on the Dniester and via the Great Skete Monastery (Manyavsky Holy Cross Monastery) in the region of Pokutie, Karazin arrived in the town of Suceava on 4 April, from where he travelled to Wallachia through Austrian Transylvania, crossing the Carpathian Mountains twice. On 7 May, 1769, he arrived in Bucharest, and then, having established contact with the leadership of the pro-Russian party of Wallachia, on 19 May moved back and arrived at the camp of the main forces of the Russian 1st Army near Derazhnya on 2 June, 1769. After that, Karazin, in accordance with his instructions, remained at the headquarters of the 1st Army commander, Prince A. M. Golitsyn, during the summer campaign. On 10 September, 1769, after the capture of the Khotin fortress by the Russian army and the retreat of the Turks from Moldova, Karazin, on behalf of Golitsyn, again set off at the head of a detachment of Arnauts (mercenaries of Balkan origin who had switched to the Russian side) to the town of Fokshany on the border between Moldavia and Wallachia, with a mission to raise an anti-Turkish uprising. His detachment played an important role in organizing the insurrectionary movement in the northeastern part of Wallachia and the expulsion of the Turks from Bucharest in early November 1769, and then in the defense of the capital of Wallachia during the counter-offensives of the Ottoman forces in December 1769 and January 1770. The content of the article refutes the family narratives about N.A. Karazin and his adventures during the war years, which contain factuallyinaccurate information.

The paper deals with foundation and further fortunes of the Florentine abbey of San Miniato, founded by bishop Ildebrando (1018), and discusses the grounds of the strong hostility that Vallombrosan monks demonstrated toward florentine bishops like the same Ildebrando or Pietro Mezzabarba (who 1067 founded the nunnery of San Pier Maggiore). The so-called Vita anonima of John Gualberto, discovered and published by Robert Davidsohn, is particularly hard on these bishops, but it was written around 1120 by a monk of San Salvatore di Settimo (near Florence), in order to discredit the present bishop Goffredo Alberti, brother of count Tancredi Nontigiova. The paper considers also the cases of Pistoia and Pisa, where around the end of 11th century local bishops founded the abbeys of San Michele in Forcole and San Rossore.

The voluminous letter collection of Barsanuphius and John of Gaza contains 850 letters written by the two sixth-century anchorites who lived in cells near the monastery of Abbot Seridos in Tawatha a village a few miles southwest of Gaza. Barsanuphius and John, referred to as the Old Men of Gaza, were ascetic colleagues who wrote letters of spiritual direction to a wide group of disciples. The earliest manuscripts containing this correspondence date to the eleventh century; however, the collection was originally compiled by a member of Barsanuphius and John’s own monastic community (perhaps Dorotheos of Gaza) shortly after the death of John and the complete seclusion of Barsanuphius. The monk who compiled the collection followed a traditional practice among ancient editors, grouping the letters according to addressees, rather than chronologically. The collection begins with letters to individually named monks and continues with letters addressed to unidentified monks or the brothers of community collectively. The collection contains a series of letters to Aelianos, a layman newly elected as abbot of the monastery, and a large group of letters to lay Christians who sought spiritual guidance from the anchorites. The collection concludes with letters concerning episcopal elections in Gaza and Jerusalem and correspondence to civic officials and bishops in the region.

Abstract The data on mortality in late medieval England have been characterized as ‘sparse and intractable’, ‘hard to win and treacherous to interpret’, and who will disagree? Recognizing that every piece of evidence counts, I shall begin with the death, in 1467, of a single monk, Br. Thomas Lambyrherst, of Christ Church, Canterbury. Thomas Lambyrherst had been a member of the community at Christ Church for twenty years and now held the office of shrine-keeper. In the monastery possessing the most popular shrine in England, that of St Thomas Becket, this was an extremely important office, and it placed its holder in an exposed position, for the shrine-keeper had a great deal to do with pilgrims. He died, we are told, on Good Friday (27 March) at about 7 o’clock in the evening. A death on a solemn day was always awkward for a community of monks, since the requiem Mass could not be allowed to encroach on the liturgy of the day. Yet not all the peculiar arrangements in the present case can be explained in this way. Br. Thomas died, not in the infirmary or in any part of the main claustral area, but in a chamber near one of the gates of the court, the open area separating the main monastic buildings from the edge of the precinct. The very fact that the place of death was noted suggests that it was unusual: it suggests, in fact, that when Br. Thomas became ill it had been considered appropriate to isolate him on the perimeter of the site.

Once upon a time there lived a little girl in Erfurt, a beautiful town in central Germany—a town that boasted a number of Gothic cathedrals and was a center of horticulture. The great medieval mystic Meister Eckhart had preached there; Luther had taken his vow to become a monk there and spent years in the Augustine monastery in its walls; and Goethe had met Napoleon in Erfurt, for the town’s distance from the centers of classical German literature, Weimar and Jena, was only a few hours by horseback or coach. The little girl loved reading and drawing but hated outdoor activities. As she was the only child, born rather late in her parents’ lives, they surrounded her with measureless love and care. Her father, hailing from central Germany, not far from the Erzgebirge, was an employee in the post and telegraph service; her mother, however, had grown up in the north not far from the Dutch border, daughter of a family with a centuries-long tradition of seafaring. The father was mild and gentle, and his love of mystical literature from all religions complemented the religious bent of the mother, grown up in the rigid tradition of northern German protestantism, but also endowed with strong psychic faculties as is not rare in people living close to the unpredictable ocean. To spend the summer vacations in grandmother’s village was wonderful: the stories of relatives who had performed dangerous voyages around Cape Horn or to India, of grandfather losing his frail clipper near Rio Grande del Sul after more than a hundred days of sailing with precious goods—all these stories were in the air. Mother’s younger sister was later to weave them into a novel and to capture the life in the coastal area in numerous radio plays. Both parents loved poetry, and the father used to read aloud German and, later, French classical literature to us on Sunday afternoons.