Greek - the language, not the food

So I survived my first class in New Testament Greek this morning. Having taken a smattering of Homeric Greek in the past, I was surprised with all the differences. By the time the New Testament was written the language appears to have been streamlined; things I had to learn in ancient Greek serve no purpose now. I can blissfully ignore a lot of the jots and tittles that slowed me down before, though some changes grate on my ears.

Getting to Denton (where the classes are held) was, as always, a straight line North followed by a single turn off the highway (actually the church is a whopping mile from where my previous two children were born). St. Maximus is a converted house with a narthex on the other side of the front door and the nave to your immediate right. The grounds are large and filled with blooming plants, and the plans I saw for a future stand-alone church looked very stately.

There's a small bookstore with some books I had in the queue to order (note to self: buy Jordanville Prayer Book next time I'm there).

Being the only Byzantine Catholic there I had a few interesting questions posed to me, but nothing malicious. Very friendly people all told and I shall certainly be back next Saturday. I promise not to post ad nauseum about verb declension or accent placement. Though, if the Septuagint proffers some interesting reading I won't be able to help myself.