Expression

If one pharaoh embodies the power and pride of the New Kingdom, it is Ramesses II, 'the Great,' who reigned for an astonishing 66 years (c. 1279-1213 BC) and lived into his nineties — extraordinary for the ancient world. He fought the Hittite empire to a standstill at the famous Battle of Kadesh, then signed what may be the world's first surviving peace treaty between two great powers. But Ramesses is remembered most for building: he erected more colossal statues, temples, and monuments than any other pharaoh, including the breathtaking rock-cut temples at Abu Simbel, guarded by four 65-foot seated statues of himself, and the great hall of Karnak. He plastered his name across Egypt — sometimes carving it over the monuments of earlier kings — which is part of how he made himself 'the Great': he was history's master of self-promotion as well as a genuinely capable ruler. Many scholars associate his era with the period of the biblical Exodus, though the Bible names no pharaoh, so the connection is traditional rather than certain. Studying Ramesses is a lesson in reading sources prudently: a ruler who controls all the monuments controls much of how he is remembered, so the historian must ask what the boasts leave out.

Music filled ancient Egypt, and because Egyptians painted their tombs with scenes of life they hoped to continue forever, we can actually SEE their musicians at work. Tomb paintings show ensembles of harpists, lutes, double pipes (a reed instrument), and singers, often women, performing at banquets, harvests, and funerals. The harp was especially prized — large floor harps and smaller shoulder harps appear again and again. The most distinctly Egyptian instrument was the sistrum, a sacred rattle of metal disks on a frame, shaken by priestesses in temple worship, especially of the goddess Hathor, patron of music and joy. Music was not mere entertainment; it was woven into religion, believed to please the gods and to help the soul in the afterlife. Singers used 'cheironomy' — hand signals — to indicate pitch, an early way of directing music before written notation existed. Because no Egyptian musical notation survives (unlike the Mesopotamian Hurrian Hymn we heard last week), we know what their instruments looked like and where music belonged in their lives, but we can only reconstruct, not truly recover, how it sounded. Listening to modern recreations on replica harps and sistrums, we glimpse a world where, just as in every culture we will study, music and worship rose together.

Last week you practiced strong single sentences; now you join sentences into a paragraph — the basic unit of real writing. A well-built paragraph is like a small sandwich. The top slice is the topic sentence: it states the one main idea the whole paragraph is about. The filling is the supporting sentences: specific details, examples, and descriptions that develop that idea. The bottom slice is the concluding sentence: it wraps up or restates the idea so the paragraph feels finished. A good paragraph has unity — every sentence serves the topic sentence; no stray ideas wander in. This week's assignment, introduced now, is a DESCRIPTIVE paragraph: describe a single day in the life of one ordinary ancient Egyptian — a farmer along the Nile, a scribe in a temple, or a servant in a great house. Start with a topic sentence ('A scribe's day in the temple of Karnak began before the sun.'), give at least four specific sensory details (the smell of the river, the scratch of a reed pen, the heat of the desert wind), and end with a concluding sentence. Aim for vivid and specific, not vague. Begin your draft now; finish as carry-over work using the rubric.

We close with St. Joseph, the just man who once led the Christ child into Egypt. This week we saw a civilization that built pyramids and wrote a Book of the Dead because it longed for life beyond death — a longing the faith says is true and is answered in the Resurrection of the very Child Joseph protected. Where Egypt embalmed bodies hoping to preserve them, Christ promises to raise them. Joseph's silent, faithful justice — giving God and his family their due — is the everyday virtue that makes a holy life. Ask his prayers as you finish your work.