Your feet tingle as though they’ve been asleep. Those annoying pinpricks that tell you circulation is coming back. Then, every inch of skin on your whole body. For a moment you wish you could shed your skin.
The sensation ends almost as quickly as it started. You look down at your feet. At least you are standing. In the distance you see a mountain range.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b3/MountainIztaccihuatlMexico01.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="">
“Where are we?” you ask.
“An excellent question,” Caliban replies. “I only tell you this because often your questions are irrelevant to the situation. This time, however, your question is quite relevant. You might want to practice such questions in the future.”
“So, think you could answer it?”
“Of course.” If AIs could sniff, you’re sure Caliban would do that now. “We are in Puebla, Mexico, circa 1691. ‘Circa’ means around or about that time.”
“I know what circa means.”
“My, aren’t we getting snippy?”
“What are we doing here? What happened to John and Eldia? Why aren’t they here with us? Did the Chonosensor simply pick us up from Athens and drop us here for no reason? Or, is there a reason? Or is it on the blink?”
“Now,” Caliban replies, “None of those questions is excellent, primarily because none of them are answerable. I might surmise that you are engaging in a sort of Socratic Monologue as opposed to Dialogue, but you seem more confused than perplexed, so I do not think that it.”
“So, in other words, the answers to all of those questions is, ‘I don’t know.’”
Silence. Irritating silence.
“Well,” Caliban drags the word out to, “Weeeellll . . .” which makes you wonder how that was built into his audio software.
“Well?”
“I detect a Chronosensor in the immediate vicinity.”
“John or Eldia?”
“A different digital signature. I can tell you, however, that this one appears to be functioning according to specifications.”
You follow Caliban’s directions into a stand of mesquite. You look around for whoever has the Chronosensor and almost miss a worn kaki knapsack stuffed in some bushes. As you pull it out the flap flips open; books and papers, some printouts and some notebook pages with handwriting, spill out. At the bottom of the bag you find a Chronosensor.
“Who would have left a Chronosensor out here?” Then, before Caliban can reply. “That was strictly a rhetorical question. No answer or snide comments required.”
“Really?”
You turn on the Chronosensor. “Hello?” you ask it. Nothing. “No AI, I guess.”
“Or, one that does not wish to reply, at least to a stranger. That possibility is as probable.”
You take some time to thumb through the Chronosensor’s archive, hoping to figure out who it belongs to. There is a log, but it is password protected.
You turn your attention to the loose papers. Some are crumpled, others folded in half. Many look like they’ve been loose in the bottom of the knapsack for a while. Most are Institute documents: travel protocols, safety procedures, even a form for travel insurance. None gave any indication who owned the knapsack.
The notebook pages are worse. Most are written in an incipherable scrawl. You can’t even tell if it’s written in English or not. There among the notebook pages you find one printout with a faded photo of a man in what you think might be liturgical dress. His face is circled with a red marker, recently if the brightness of the ink is any indication. Under the photo are the words, “Manuel Fernandez de la Cruz.”
“Any idea who this is?” You ask Caliban.
“Hold the image up to my sensor? He doesn’t seem to be a figure of much importance. A church official. Almost no info on him. If I could have gotten an update on this period perhaps I’d know more.”
“Well, he is our only clue, though I’m not sure of what. We don’t know why we’re here. We don’t know why he’s important. But, perhaps if we find him we’ll find out both of those things.”
You slip everything into the knapsack, then start to put the Chronosensor in your pocket.
“Humph!” Caliban says.
“Yes?”
“Without their Chronosensor, how will they get back to their own time?”
“Point taken.” You put the Chronosensor back in the knapsack. You’re not sure if whoever owns this Chronosensor is friend or foe, but you know how you’d feel if you went to retrieve yours and it was no longer where you left it. You’d be left in the past forever, or at least for the rest of your life.
“So, where do we start looking for this de la Cruz guy?”
“Manuel Fernandez.”
“Whatever.”
“I have a reference to him at Zocalo, though it’s not clear what his connection is to the village.”
The road to [[Zocalo]].
You walk down a narrow track that reminds you of the trail you followed into Athens. It seemed like yesterday, even though by the calendar it was over a thousand years ago.
You meet few people, an occasional native in plain, white linen. No colonials. No one looks at you, and those who do give you a suspicious glare and then look down, and won’t meet your gaze.
“Not very hospitable,” you say, more to yourself than to Caliban.
“That may be why.”
You look around, not really sure why. But the tone of voice Caliban uses sounds just like what someone might say if they were pointing at something.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/ef/Cuexcomate_Detalle_2.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="">
Farther down the trail it widens out into a bare area in front of a grey monolith of pitted, weathered, grey stone. It rises out of the ground almost a hundred feet in the air, looking like some hunched animal.
“What is that?”
“According to what little information I have in my database, that is Cuexcomate geyser or volcano. The record isn’t clear. Supposedly you can climb down into it. In our time there is a staircase. In this time it is deemed to be a door into the underworld. Apparently at one time it was a place of human sacrifice, and more recently a location for suicides. The people who live close to it are often referred to as the Children of the Devil, and are suspect.”
“A sort of negative ethos by association.”
“I suppose one might carry a negative ethos for any number of reasons, accent, skin color, even geography. It makes little sense. But then, much of how you humans think and believe is devoid of logic.”
As you walk on the people you meet are wearing better clothes. You see brightly dyed shawls and occasionally elaborate headdresses. If anything, they look more suspicious. As one woman walks by she pauses long enough to turn and spit at your feet.
“Did she just say, ‘diablo’?”
You hear a soft hum from Taliban that you’re sure is supposed to be laughter.
In the distance you can see a town and what looks like a cathedral.
“San Francisco Pueblo,” a voice says from behind you. “It is beautiful, is it not?”
“Very,” you reply, turning to see who is speaking. “It’s beauty belies its tragedy, the blood of those who built it. Slaves all.”
You don’t know what to say, and Caliban is silent as well, though you know he can talk to you without anyone else hearing.
“Please, walk with me. They will stop thinking that you came from the devil, despite your strange dress if you walk with me, that is, unless we meet a priest.” The old man chuckles. “I am a bruja. The people, they like me. I send away the devils. The priests, not so much.”
You consider that for a moment. This man's ethos is different depending on who is considering him. To one of the natives, he is a healer; to a priest, he is a minion of the devil. Ethos is more complicated than you had thought.
You walk along in silence, and sure enough, the people you encounter are friendlier. They greet the old man and pretty much ignore you, but at least they’re not spitting anymore.
The old man greets everyone with a smile and a kind word. Most answer in kind. You wonder if he actually knows all these people or not. At one point he starts whistling, and doesn’t stop when he meets people, but nods and seems to whistle a greeting.
“Have you heard of a man named Manuel Fernandez de la Cruz?” You ask after a while.
The whistling stops.
“Ah, a bad one, that one. You do not have anything to do with him, surely?”
“Just wondering. I’ve heard about him. Nothing more.”
“Oh, he has stirred up much controversy with a nun of Zocalo, a pious and worthy woman.”
“What happened?” Caliban asked, and you realized he had asked aloud enough for the man to hear.
What was he thinking? The old man would surely think he was a devil with voices coming out of nowhere. But the old man didn’t seem to notice.
“The nun goes by the name Sor Juana. This man, he is a bishop, I believe, overheard her talking about a sermon a man he was jealous of—they are all constantly jealous of each other, by the way. So, he asked her to write a letter critiquing the sermon. Then, without her knowledge or permission, he published it as ‘A Letter Worthy of Athena.”
You weren’t really sure why that was a problem, but the old man went on.
“Of course, it caused such a scandal. A women, a nun, who should be cloistered, who should be obeying her betters, criticizing them instead. Some said it was as unseemly for a woman to even read. But to write. To study pagan manuscripts, manuscripts written by Aristotle and such instead of holy scripture. No, that was too much. Now, you see, the church is telling her she must stop. No more reading. No more writing. Only prayer and beads.”
The old man shakes his dead. “Such a shame.”
If this is the case, you think, this Manuel Fernandez de la Cruz is not the person to help you. What was his name on that piece of paper? Who was he, and why was he important? Still, he is your only clue.
“This is where I leave you, my friend,” the old man tells you.
“We’ve only known each other for a few hours.”
“For wanderers, everyone is a friend—at least until they prove otherwise, eh?” With a smile he is gone.
[[Sor Juana]]
As you travel more into Zocalo, the crowds get thicker. Even without the old man to accompany you, most people ignore you. There are just too many people for any one to stand out.
The crowd gets thicker, noisier, somehow claustrophobic and at the same time, too open, almost a living thing. It must be market day. That’s the only reason you can think of for such a crowd. The square reminds you so much of Athens. It is booming with activity. It is hard for you to distinguish individuals, faces and voices seem to blend together.
You see a side street that looks quiet, and slip away. As you congratulate yourself at having escaped the crowd, you feel the brute force of a blunt object on the back of your head. Everything goes dark.
You awaken to a dimly lit room, the face of a young woman only inches from yours. She turns to speak to someone out of sight.
“He wakes.”
“Excellent,” another woman’s voice answers. “I am going to assist with the rosary tonight, I will leave him to your care.”
For a while, all is quiet. You want to ask Caliban what happened, but you know the young woman must be close by. After your head clears a little, you look around. You seem to be in a small library. Books line every wall, at least the wall you can see. A small desk, what they used to call a secretary’s desk, is pushed into one corner. The young woman sits at the desk, reading a book. Looking at her habit, you realize for the first time that she is a nun.
<img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3d/Retrato_de_Sor_Juana_In%C3%A9s_de_la_Cruz_%28Miguel_Cabrera%29.jpg/200px-Retrato_de_Sor_Juana_In%C3%A9s_de_la_Cruz_%28Miguel_Cabrera%29.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt="">
This must be Sor Juana. It is just as well that you did not ask her about Manuel Fernandez.
“What are you reading?” you ask.
“Ah, you must be feeling better.” She brings you a cup of water and raises your head so you can drink.
“I am reading Augustine’s City of God. He is very open about his former life, the mistakes he made. He was the chair of rhetoric at Aleppo. In Confessions refers to that position as the ‘Chair of lies.’ He was so critical of himself. Then, later, he admits that rhetoric is useful for spreading the truth. He writes that we should not leave this tool to the pagans. I had not decided yet which Augustine I should believe.”
“You are not sure of his logic?”
She smiles at you. It is a winning smile and you can’t help but smile back. “Of his ethos, I think. That is what I am not sure of.”
Over her shoulder you see a portrait of her as a serious young girl. From the way she is dressed, you surmise that it must have been painted before she became a nun.
<img src="http://www.mexonline.com/culture/images/sorjuana-joven.jpg" width="200" height="250" alt="">
She follows your gaze and says, “Vanity of vanities. All is vanity. At least I was back then. Yet, even then I was more interested in books than I was in suitors. Now, married to Jesus, I have as much time for books as I wish.” She pauses. “At least for the time being.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I should not share my personal I difficulties with a complete stranger.”
“Sometimes a stranger is the best person to talk to. They don’t have any preconceptions.”
She laughs. “There is truth in what you say. Perhaps.”
She goes back over to her desk and stares at the open book, but doesn’t seem to be reading. “Perhaps,” you hear her mutter to herself. Finally, she starts talking, softly at first, but becoming more animated as she warms to her story.
“He heard me talking about a sermon by Antonio Vieira and asked me to write a letter criticizing the theological fallacies Vieira made. The bishop was a good friend that promoted my studies and search for knowledge, so I obliged. He then published the letter without my consent under the pen name, Sor Filotea de la Cruz. That letter has caused so much controversy. The worst part about this was that he wrote an introduction to the letter cautioning me about continuing my studies, of writing of any kind, and to abandon the masculine field of theology. He has shown me a great deficiency of ethos.”
“I admit, I am no friend of Manuel Fernandez.” You hesitate, unsure what it is sufficient to reveal. But, she has opened up to you. What more can you do but answer in kind. “I have been sent to investigate his activities, some of which have been deemed, well, suspicious.” You hope she doesn’t ask who sent you or what activities you’re investigating. You can’t tell her about time travel, and you’re not sure why you’re looking into this man yet. You push on. “Why do you think he did this?” The old man had told you that Manuel Fernandez had used Sor Juana as a tool to bait Vieira.
“This I do not know. Forgive me Heavenly Father, but it angers me so. Some praise me, but many condemn me because I am a woman who pursues knowledge. They doubt that I can learn; but how do we discover truth without study?”
You start to answer, “What is truth?” but stop yourself, realizing you’d be quoting Pontius Pilate. That wasn’t an allusion you wanted to bring into the conversation.
“So,” you reply, “What do you plan on doing?”
“I am writing a letter, even though this is what brought me to so much difficulty the first time. Still, I hope with this to reveal truth; and that truth is the truth of my intelligence and pursuit of knowledge, which I must defend. I am calling it my ‘Respuesta.’ I was placing the finishing touches on it when they brought you here. You seem to have a strong knowledge of rhetoric. I’ll tell you what, I will reveal my ‘Respuesta’ to you as a test of your good sense. We can make this a sort of game, a challenge if you will. You have evidenced a knowledge of rhetoric and particularly ethos. So we will test your knowledge. You are seeking information on Manuel Fernandez de la Cruz. Should you overcome, I will share what knowledge I have.
“I have to admit to a fondness for such challenges, even though I know they are vanity. When I was but a child, the Viceroy Marquis of Mancera organized a public demonstration of my learning in which I successfully responded to questions that were asked by several male scholars. Sometimes I think that day is why I am now a nun instead of a wife.” She laughs. “I frightened all the men away. Which is just as well. Who wants a wife whose nose is in a book and whose fingers are blackened with ink?
“So, think of this as a challenge of your knowledge. I will read you excerpts and ask for your reasoning as to they would help to augment the ethos of my argument.
“Now, I am actually writing this letter to Manuel Fernandez de Santa Cruz in response to his actions but I am addressing it to 'Sister Filotea de la Cruz' and will refer to myself as 'the poet'. Perhaps I am being overly clever. But, there is a purpose to this cleverness. What rhetorical device am I using here. Come, this is the simplest question I shall ask you. So, no time to consider. What device am I using?
[[The Device]]
STOP. YOU HAVE THREE CHOICES. IF YOU CHOOSE RIGHT THE FIRST TIME, GIVE YOURSELF FOUR EXPERIENCE POINTS. IF IT TAKES YOU A SECOND TIME, ONLY TWO EXPERIENCE POINTS. IF IT TAKES YOU ALL THREE CHOICES, NO EXPERIENCE POINTS.
[[“You’re using irony.”]]
[[“This is a syllogism.”]]
[[“It is an allusion.”]]
Sor Juana laughs. It is a delightful laugh that says you are right. “But of course. I am being ironic. But, why should I do that? What do I get out of being [[ironic]]?Sor Juana closes her eyes and wrinkles her nose. “You are not jesting are you? Remember, we are talking about ethos. A syllogism is always a matter of logic, of logos. For instance, I might write:
“Women can think as well as men.
Sor Juana is a woman.
Sor Juana can think as well as a man.
“That is a syllogism.”
“I’m beginning to think she can think better than a man,” you mutter.
She gives you a bow. “Please, try again.”
Back to [[The Device]] Sor Juana frowns. “Come now. An allusion? Have you forgotten your lessons? An allusion is a quotation or oblique reference to a work of literature without directly stating so. For example, when you looked at my portrait earlier, I said, “Vanity of vanities. All is vanity,” which is an allusion to the opening passage of Ecclesiastes. If you did not recognize it, that tells me you snoozed through your catechism. Then, allusions are so much more satisfying when no one recognizes them. But this was not an allusion. Try again.”
Back to [[The Device]]
STOP. BELOW, THERE IS ONE WRONG ANSWER (deduct 2 points), ONE PARTIALLY RIGHT ANSWER (add 2 points, only if you get this before you get the wrong answer), AND ONE VERY RIGHT ANSWER (add 6 points if you get this answer first, and 2 points if you get it after either of the other answers.
“It enhances your ethos because it illustrates your [[good character]].”
“It illustrates your ethos because with irony there is a [[hidden meaning]].”
“It sets up an ironic defense of your abilities and allows you to [[disagree]] without condemning.”
“I’m afraid, were I your teacher, I’d have to take a switch to you. Fortunately for you, I am not. No, irony does not illustrate good character. At best, it suggests the issue may be less important than others hold it. But, that is a precarious position to take. Yet, I am taking it. Go back again and see if you can decipher why.”
Back to [[ironic]]
“There is certainly hidden meaning. I am saying one thing and I mean another. That sounds like a liar, doesn’t it? Still, those hidden meanings aren’t really hidden. They are obvious, are they not? When I refer to him in the feminine, perhaps I’m simply being ironic, or perhaps I’m suggesting that he does not think in the masculine as much as he thinks he does. In other words, I am questioning his ethos. Then, I refer to myself as the poet. I am giving myself some leeway. I make no claims to be a theologian, which is his greatest objection. So, if I am honest with you, I’d have to admit that you are at least half right. Still, there is more. Why not go back and try again?”
Back to [[ironic]].
Sor Juan claps her hands. “Excellent! I am using it in a similar manner to Socrates “Apology” as reported by Plato. I am employing verbal irony to place my accuser in a bad light without accusing him of ulterior motives, which I have come to suspect. Socrates referred to himself as Athen’s ‘gadfly.’ With this he sought to explain why he was constantly troubling the Athenians without accusing them of being the immoral people they actually were. Ethos, he understood, can indicate how you present the audience to itself as much as how you present yourself to the audience. I follow this little bit of irony with greater irony, when I follow this and write, ‘And so I entrust the decision to your supreme skill and straightway submit to whatever sentence you may pass, posing no objection or reluctance, for this has been no more than a simple account of inclination to letters.’ You see, I am all too reluctant. But I cannot reveal that reluctance, nor can I bring myself to simply lie. Irony allows me to do both.
“But I follow this overly eloquent introduction with a simple statement. I write, ‘I learn because I must.’ How does this contribute to my [[ethos]]?”
STOP. ONE CORRECT ANSWER. (4 if you get it first. 2 points if you get it second. No deductions. (These are some sneaky ones.))
“It shows that you are [[credible]], that there are reasons you want to know more.”
“It illustrates that you have an [[inherent ]] need to learn that others should not deny.”
“It reveals the [[power]] of knowledge in one’s life to overcome negative situations.”
She shakes her head ruefully. “If there were credible reasons then I should list them. And, I do so later in the letter. But keep in mind, here I am stating my ethos, what is inside me, which is part of my character, my person, who I am. Whatever reasons I might marshal would be outside myself, and though important, not ethos. Surely you can come up with a better response.”
Back to [[ethos]].“Ah, there is power in knowledge. However, as Socrates himself illustrated when he drank the hemlock, that power does not always overcome the external world, which is what I think you mean by ‘situations.’ In fact, there are times that our knowledge actually makes it more difficult to cope with the external world. Again as Socrates illustrated, true knowledge all too often places us at odds with those who think they have knowledge, yet do not.”
Back to [[ethos]].“Your use of the word ‘inherent’ is apropos. To say ‘I learn because I must’ is to say that learning is an essential part of who I am. It is who I am. This is not something I can simply lay aside without laying who I am aside. That is true ethos, is it not, exposing the inner core of your being, this time without irony?
“My next step is to convey good will by advocating for the pursuit of knowledge and good character by illustrating that my intentions are to learn and not to harm the world by doing so.
“Which of these would help build [[well rounded ethos]] in my letter?”
“I have always been fond of memory games, have you?”
You haven’t. In fact, you’re not very good at them at all.
Still, you mutely nod your head.
“Excellent. I will read you several passages from my letter. Let us see if you can tell me what ethos derives from each. Here is the first passage, in which I give examples of virtuous women:
“’For there I see Deborah issuing laws, military as well as political, and governing the people among whom there were so many learned men. I see the exceedingly knowledgeable Queen of Sheba, so learned she dares to test the wisdom of the wisest of all wise men with riddles, without being rebuked for it…indeed, on this very account she is to become judge of the unbelievers. I see so many and such significant women: some adorned with the girt of prophecy, like an Abigail; others, of persuasion like Esther; others, of piety, like Rahab; others, of perseverance, like Anna [Hannah] the mother of Samuel; and others, infinitely more, with other kinds of qualities and virtues.'
“Here now, the second passage. More examples of virtuous women: ‘I see, too, such a woman as Zenobia, queen of the Palmyrians, as wise as she was courageous…An Aspasia Miletia, who taught philosophy and rhetoric and was the teacher of the philosopher Pericles. An Hypatia, who taught astrology and lectured for many years in Alexandria.’
“Can you keep them all straight? Here is another passage. Remember, each is designed to strengthen my ethos. Nest I write, ‘Our Queen Isabella, wife of Alfonso X, is known to have written on astrology – without mentioning others, whom I omit so as not merely to copy what other have said (which is a vice I have always detested): Well then , in our own day there thrive the great Christiana Alexandra, Queen of Sweden, as learned as she is brave and generous.’
“Listen to this passage carefully. I am inordinately proud of it—even though pride is a sin: ‘I am now going to cite the famous Dr. Arce as he questions whether it is permissible for a woman to apply themselves to study. Observe as Arce counters the words of Paul, ‘Let women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted them to speak.’
“Dr. Arce then presents differing verdicts, including this passage addressed to Tutus again spoken by the Apostle: “The aged women, in like manner, in holy attire […] teaching well”; and gives other interpretations from the Fathers of the Church Arce at last resolves, in his prudent way, that are not allowed to lecture publicly in the universities or to preach from the pulpits, but that studying, writing, and teaching privately is not only permitted but most beneficial and useful to them.
Clearly, of course he does not mean by this that all women should do so, but only those whom God may have seen fit to endow with special virtue and prudence, and who are very mature and erudite and possess the necessary talents and requirements for such a sacred occupation.’
“Almost done. Can you remember them all? Perhaps you will find it easier since I am citing the Apostle Paul again: ‘All this requires more study than is supposed by certain men who, as mere grammarians or, at most, armed with four terms from the principles of logic, wish to interpret the Scriptures and cling to the “Let women keep silence in the churches,” without knowing how to understand it rightly. So it is with another passage, “Let the woman learn in silence”; for this passage is more in favor of than against women, as it says that they should learn, and while they are learning, obviously, they must needs keep quiet.’
“One more, and this one is very short: ‘If my crime lies in the “Letter Worthy of Athena,” was that anything more than a simple report of my opinion with all the indulgences granted me by our Holy Mother Church? For if She, with her most holy authority, does not forbid my writing, why must other forbid it?”
“That is it. How many passages did I just read to you?”
“Six.”
“That many. My I have become wordy.” She gives you a Cheshire Cat smile, an allusion she would never get. “So, tell me, how do each of these examples contribute, or perhaps not, to my ethos? How well do you know your Aristotle? Do you remember the three categories he broke ethos down into? My, that man loved categories, didn’t he? Let me review for you:
Phronesis, practical wisdom, knowing oneself, moral character.
Arête, excellence, expertise, virtue, full potential, courage to act on phronesis,
Eunoia, good will, how we act toward others
Suddenly Caliban speaks in your ear, causing you to jump. You’d forgotten he was there. “You might want to review in the Chronosensor if you can get a peek at it without her noticing. Though, she doesn’t miss much.”
STOP. THIS CHALLENGE IS MIX AND MATCH. MATCH THE FOLLOWING ANSWERS TO THE SEVEN PASSAGES. KEEP IN MIND THAT THESE MAY OVERLAP. YOU CAN’T HAVE EUNOIA WITHOUT HAVING ARETE, AND YOU CAN’T HAVE ARETE WITHOUT HAVING PHRONESIS. WHICH IS EMPHASIZED IN EACH EXAMPLE? NOTE THAT I AM WILLING TO TAKE ALTERNATE INTERPRETATIONS—AS LONG AS YOU CAN GIVE ME GOOD REASONS FOR THOSE INTERPRETATIONS. ONE POINT FOR EACH CORRECT ANSWER.
MOST OF YOUR TEAM MEMBERS SHOULD REMAIN ON THIS PAGE WHILE ONE TEAM MEMBER READS THE QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ON THE NEXT PAGE.
Go to [[Sor Juana's Challenge]].
BEFORE CLICKING ON EACH NAME TO SEE SOR JUANA'S RESPONSE, DECIDE WHICH OF THESE WOMEN ILLUSTRATES WHICH FORM OF ETHOS, PHRONESIS, ARETE, EUNIOA. TWO POINTS FOR EVERY CORRECT RESPONSE.
“[[Deborah]] was a judge of the Israelites. She issued laws, led the army, governed the people.”
“The [[Queen of Sheba]] was learned and wise.”
“Notice that the rest of these [[examples from scripture]], Abigail, Esther, Rahab, Hannah, all did something for someone. Abigail prophesied, Esther went with her mother-in-law to a strange land, Rahab helped the Israelites, Hannah gave Samuel to the Lord to be a prophet.
What about [[Zenobia]]?
[[Aspasia]], according to Plato not only taught Pericles, she wrote his most famous speech, “The Funeral Oration.” Plato says she was his teacher as well.
[[Queen Isabella]] wrote on astrology . . .
“I know, I’m passing over some of my examples. But, I’m anxious to come to [[Dr. Arce]]. Such a difficult one, don’t you think? He argued with the Apostle Paul! Such impudence. He could only do so if he had—what?
“What were the [[aged women]] Dr. Arce write about doing? They were teaching, which means they had:
“What about my final example, the ‘[[Holy Mother Church]]?’ I’m arguing that if the church does not deny me learning, then what right does someone else?
She evidenced arête because she had the expertise required to judge and rule.
We know from scripture telling us that she was wise that she had phronesis, practical wisdom. Whether she acted on this wisdom other than to argue with others who were wise, we do not know. Each of these did something, acted in some way. All had eunoia. Those were all examples from scripture. Using them I borrowed the authority of scripture by using these examples to strengthen my own ethos. The other examples are from history. Wise and courageous would suggest both phronesis and arête; since one is built on the other, I think we should go with arête. Aspasia evidences eunoia, “good will.” This is the most important trait for a teacher. . . . in other words, she had excellence in a specific area of knowledge, or arête.“Certainly he would need arête, deep knowledge of scripture and theology. I have never been sure that he has ‘good will’ when he says that women should learn in silence. eunoia, good will towards others. Their actions were their ethos. After all, how are we to know the ethos of others except through their actions?"This may well be a trick question. After all, the Church Catholic should have all three. Yet, this example focuses on the Church’s phronesis rather than eunoia or arête. Why? Because eunoia and arête require action of some kind. Notice that I am identifying an omission. The Church does not forbid. But neither does it allow. The Church has not acted. One cannot have eunoia or arête without action.
[[The following day]]
You wake with a little bit of headache hanging on, though the day looks like a lovely day. There at the foot of your bed you find a single piece of parchment with a note written in a neat hand.
“My friend,
for we have talked enough of philosophy to call each other friends.
I am sorry I cannot greet you this morning. I am to be cloistered for a time, and am told I should not have visitors. I think it is so kind for them to word it in terms of a request rather than an order.
I leave two gifts with you. One is information. The man we spoke of the is a member of a sect, both within the church and the military, who refer to themselves as the Eleatics. I have no idea what that means, but suspect it does not bode well for those who oppose them.
My second is a book, though more precisely, a scroll. I have not been able to open it, because the parchment is very brittle, an indication that the scroll is old, perhaps older than any of us suspect. I was told, though I often think this but a rumor, that this scroll was part of the library of Aristotle himself. If so, you might find it instructive in your continued journey. I wish you God’s speed. Though I do not know what your quest is, I think that I have learned enough of your ethos to know that you are on the side of the righteous. If nothing else, your opposition to the man we spoke of is sufficient for me to help you.
In the love of our heavenly Lord,
Sor Juana de la Cruz