Poetics

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Something new

In the spirit of a new year, I have decided to try something new as well. In the same manner and spirit as these blog posts and other things I have produced, I am working on a book-length commentary on the Gospel of St. Mark. What follows is a part of what will become chapter 1. It is by no means a scholarly effort, but rather a way to look behind the text and flesh out some ideas. Let me know what you think.

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The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God; As it is written in the prophets, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. They voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. John did baptize in the wilderrness, and preach the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. (vs. 1-4)

The English word "Gospel" is derived from the Greek "εύαγγέλιου" meaning "good news". Thus we have here the beginning of the fulfillment of the Old Testament in Jesus Christ. The great disobedience perpetrated in the Garden of Eden and the subsequent expulsion of mankind from paradise is now to be undone in the ultimate act of obedience and generosity that is the Incarnation.

Referencing both past and present, a call has gone out to all those who will listen and who have their eyes and ears and hearts attuned to what the Lord God is saying. The time of preparation is about to be fulfilled.

Two references from the Old Testament here are Isaiah 40:3 ("The voice of him that crieth in the wildeness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.") and the idea of God appearing "before thy face". Think of Moses on Mt. Sinai, but especially here of Elijah, particularly I Kings 19:1-17. No doubt, as seen previously, challenging things are in store for the one who has been called. At the very least when reading these verses, we ought to bear in mind Moses leading the people through the wilderness. Unlike us, however, he was only allowed to look upon the Promised Land before he died. So the Good News for us is that we are indeed allowed to cross over into all that the Christian life has to offer.

Having incurred the wrath of Jezebel (I Kings 19:2), Elijah flees into the wilderness and begs the Lord to take his life. Acknowledging that things have been and indeed will be difficult, the angel of the Lord brings him nourishment. Right here is a shadow of the sacramental system to be inaugurated in the New Testament for the use of the Church. As Elijah was twice nourished by the gift of God, so we both at the very beginning of our Christian lives are refreshed by Baptism and at regular intervals are provided with Holy Communion for "the strengthening and refreshing of our souls by the Body and Blood of Christ"(1928 American BCP Catechism, p. 582).

As we will see in chapter 6, the fate of the voice in the wilderness is as likely as not to be martyrdom. For in the desert, which is a place hostile to all but the hardiest life, nothing superfluous can survive. That is why the early monastics fled to the deserts, in order to burn away their selfishness and pretence, to be purified in an arid place where only what is essential will survive. Thus it is a highly symbolic place that can effect what it signifies.

So already in these opening verses we are told that there is Good News here, that what was long fortold will come to pass. In Moses, Elijah and John the Baptist the Christian life is referenced in both its sacramental and sacrificial aspects. We know where we are going, but cannot get there without passing through death to eternal life. It will be a difficult go, but we are given very real helps to sustain us. It will cost us something dear in terms of our own identity, our relationships with other people or institutions and it may even cost us our lives. This is the Good News we have now been introduced to.


Friday, December 26, 2014

Friday, November 28, 2014

Brother Paphnutius - an ongoing parable (Part I)


"Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." (John 14: 1-3)


Wandering around and needless worry

365 A.D. - somewhere in the Egyptian desert

Brother Paphnutius has been a monk for over 40 years now. People assumed that he had it all together, knew what he was talking about (at least on those few occasions he actually spoke, which accounts for why this narrative is mostly third person) and felt settled in to his way of life. Perhaps not...

At the age of twenty, after he had finished his education and renouncing a promising career in government service, he decided to become a monk. So he found a community willing to take him in and teach him, packed up his possessions (just the bare essentials: a psalter, some clothing, french press and coffee grinder – after all, we're talking about some early morning prayer and the religious life is designed to be difficult, not impossible!) and off he went.

Everything seemed fine, just what he had expected. But for some reason, the abbot grew quite displeased at Br. Paphnutius. He would not say why, just some general platitudes about not engaging the way of life as it was lead there. At this time the still inexperienced novice monk was unaware that not everyone is a square peg and that not every situation is a square hole and, most importantly, that this is actually a good thing. The abbot of that particular community just couldn't get past trying to squeeze everyone into exactly the same shape. So Paphnutius, blaming himself, decided to leave.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, and, unfortunately, didn't bother to seek counsel from anyone but himself. (Editorial note: here is a dangerous situation, one where it becomes tempting to fall into the trap of always asking 'what if...' What if I go here instead? What if my situation improves somewhere else? Living with other people? Doing a different job? I seem to remember hearing something about greener grass and the other side, but I digress...)

"For God is not a God of confusion but of peace." (1 Cor. 14:33)

Some years had passed after that experience and Brother Paphnutius had run the gamet of human experience, even finding himself on the cusp of getting married. And through these experiences, he was gradually weaned off of asking himself the wrong questions: where ought I to be (as if there were only one answer) and what ought I to be doing (as if it were only one thing)? Rather, he learned to be like the Prophet Isaiah, saying instead: "Here am I! Send me."

"Not all those who wander are lost" (J.R.R. Tolkien)


The moral of (this part of) the story: We worry so much about being in the right place, knowing the right people, doing the right things, having everything planned out to the last perfected detail. There is an almost pathological fear that can pervade our whole existence, as if we were walking on the narrowest tightrope and one false move will bring instant destruction.

Br. Paphnutius came to see clearly (well, he will eventually) that it was okay that what he had originally planned didn't work out the way that he expected it to. He needed to experience this and then go elsewhere to see it as such, a lesson he might never have uncovered had he not trusted enough to deviate from his original course.

So many great things can come when we least expect them. Certainly it is right to make plans, follow through on things and use our God-given intellect to the best of our ability. But...life is not always (nor do I believe it was ever intended to be) quite so cut and dry. We have to adapt, be flexible, not get so attached to what we think we want...in a word, we have to accept our humanity and live it out as it is.

In the opening quote from St. John, Jesus tells us that we can trust Him and He indeed has prepared a place for us. And that is a comforting thought, dispelling all confusion and allowing us to live our lives in a trustful manner.

To be continued...

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Revelation 21: 5a

"And he who sat upon the throne said, 'Behold, I make all things new'."

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How often nowadays are we told of the virtues of something being new, fresh or contemporary in contrast with former things as old, traditional or stale? This is not to say that newness is bad, unless perhaps it is the only quality considered worthy of (serious) discussion.

And yet, newness is not really something that is naturally attractive. The earthly ministry of Jesus was something very new in a lot of ways. And yet, because of the all-encompassing demand of Jesus that those who believe in Him are to take up their cross and follow Him (remembering all the places He has been), it took time, patience, miracles and grace to cement the twelve apostles into their new post-Pentecost identity as Christians.

Change is hard. Habits that are formed quickly can take a long time to be broken. Today while I was speaking with my spiritual father during the course of my regular confession, I mentioned something that is an habitual struggle for me (being too self-absorbed, not always being present enough to those around me). As part of his counsel, he advised me to consider the separation of the sheep and the goats from St. Matthew's Gospel (ch. 25: 31-46), paying particular attention (unlike the condemned in this narrative) to 'the least of these'. He then challenged me to think of where they show up in my own life and to reflect on that in the context of the Lord's Prayer, particularly "Thy will be done".

That is a petition that Christian people are wont to make on a regular basis. But do we really mean it? Do we see the full import of what we are asking for? It is indeed a petition for newness, for the sloughing off of the old man and the putting on of the new. (cf. Colossians 3:9-10)

Like so much else in this post-modern life of ours, there is the danger of seeing this as a one-time, binary process (going from being switched off to switched on) that isn't repeated. But that is not the case.

Life is a continual conversion, and it does not simply take place in the head or the heart (a contemporary form of gnosticism), but involves the whole of the human person. And it happens every day. It is axiomatic of the spiritual life that we are either progressing or regressing, there is no standing still. It is this forward movement that the desert fathers and those who follow in their tradition are seeking through their spiritual practices.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning". (Lam. 3: 22-23a)

There they are, just waiting for you to receive. But no one is forcing your hand, that is the way of love. And they are new, which can be both a great relief (I'm not too late, I didn't miss out on anything) and a bit frightening (I need to be honest with myself that in the past I have fallen short and am in great need). But there they are nonetheless.

Peace.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Mark 11: 12-21

"And seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, [Jesus] went to see if he could find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. And he said to it, 'May no one ever eat fruit from you again.' And his disciples heard it....And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons;...As they passed by in the morning, [the disciples] saw the fig tree withered away to its roots." (Mark 11:13-14,15b, 20)

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"There can be no doubt that this, without exception, is the most difficult story in the gospel narrative. To take it as literal history presents difficulties which are well-nigh insuperable." (Barclay, The Gospel of Mark, New Daily Study Bible p. 314)

Not the most encouraging start to what is, indeed, a difficult passage to understand. In his above commentary, Wm. Barclay treats as a unit the two separate parts (the cause and effect if you will) of the incident with the fig tree and then moves on to the cleansing of the Temple. While this seems a good and desirable way to treat this narrative, the fact that it is presented in context in two parts with Jesus' cleansing of the Temple interposed is not insignificant and I believe the arrangement of the text this way helps to unravel something of its mystery.

Firstly, this story takes place in the midst of the Passover season, so it would be around mid-April. Figs don't generally bear fruit until May or June, so no one would have expected there to be any on the tree. While there is no fruit, it is in leaf, so there are obvious signs of life and continuity.

Is this in fact an allegory for the practices of the Temple in Jesus' time? The leaves are there: the prayers and sacrifices continue, the letter of the Law is being fulfilled, as it had been since Moses commanded what he had received from the Lord. The fruit, however, is missing: the offering of sacrifices has been overrun with commercialisation and people coming to worship are being victimised by extortioners.

Just as no one would expect to see figs on the tree, did anyone really think the current practice of the Temple could/should be reformed?

Sometimes the only way to effect a cure is to completely cut off the disease. Thus, Jesus' dramatic action in overturning the tables of the money-changers is symbolically represented in the withered tree. The fig tree is then both 1. what the Temple had become through corruption and 2. a sign of its coming supercession thanks to Christ's self-offering on Calvary.

When the disciples notice the withered tree, likely still in shock over what had happened the previous day, it becomes yet another sign for them of who Jesus is and what He has come to do. I imagine Him asking them: Do you see now how serious your situation is? This tree and the Temple are in exactly the same state of being.'

One thing is clear, things could not continue on as they had. A radical change/fulfillment was necessary both in the externals of worship and in the hearts of all men.

Here is an interesting story:

"Flavius Josephus reports strange happenings in the final years before the outbreak of the Jewish War, all of which, in different and unsettling ways, heralded the end of the Temple....In A.D. 66 '[A]t the Feast of Pentecost, when the priests had gone into the inner court of the Temple at night to perform the usual ceremonies, they declared that they were aware, first of a violent movement and a loud crash, then of a concerted cry: Let us go hence.' Whatever exactly may have happened, one thing is clear: in the final years before the dramatic events of the year 70, the Temple was enveloped in a mysterious premonition that its end was approaching." (Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, vol. 2, pp. 25-26)

Peace

Friday, October 17, 2014

Luke 5: 33-39

"And Jesus said to them, 'Can you make wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them? The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days'....But new wine must be put into fresh wineskins." (vv. 34, 38 – Revised Standard Version, 2nd Catholic Edition)

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How is the question of fasting resolved in the parable of the wineskins?

I have always taken the parable of the new/old wineskins to be an illustration of the problem that the scribes and Pharisees have in trying to shoe-horn Jesus into their religious framework: strict obedience to the Law (as they see it). Isn't it so easy to do that? We quite naturally develop a framework into which we can neatly compact our thoughts, words and actions and how we relate to other people and also how we "need" and expect them to relate to us. When they don't, what happens? No wonder there is so much offense taken and received, especially over an anonymous and comfortable medium such as the internet. So, the question is, how can we reasonably expect people to engage us on our own terms if we have not taken the time to explain what those terms are and expose them to the light of day to see how they stand up to our faith, our relationships, or other peoples' ideas and conceptions? Doing so is only scary if we reject out of hand the categorical imperative of all reasonable discourse: 'what if I might be wrong'. I think this gets to the root of the criticisms of the scribes and Pharisees.

The prescriptions of the Mosaic Law are not bad things in and of themselves. Fasting was, and is, a great good for those called to exercise it. [But, not everyone is called to exercise every discipline in the same way. If you are hypoglycemic, then fasting in any (and I hate to use the word because it can be taken the wrong way as an open invitation to comparison where none is needed or justified, but...) significant way is probably not an option]. These prescriptions as stated served their intended purpose until the coming of the Messiah. In Jesus, the former signs and types of the heavenly reality have given way to the real thing. Whatever came before has now to give way to that which it pointed to, but could never fully be. The new reality simply cannot be contained within anyone's previous conception because our human insights are necessarily limited by our finite condition. (Think: Doctrine of the Trinity)

So now, we no longer fast because of the letter of the Law, but because of our love and devotion to the One who fulfills the Law and calls us to a life of perfect holiness in imitation of His own.

It could also be thought of this way. We can think about and conceptualize "love" in the abstract. It is a concept that can fit neatly into our categories of thought and be contemplated without any serious mental gymnastics. But, once love becomes actualized in a relationship of two people, then the theory must give way to the reality which is tangentially related to our mental conceptions but oh so much more. It both fulfills and surpasses our mental expectations and is so wonderfully more complex in reality (Poof! There go those old wine skins!) than when it exists as nothing more than a platonic 'form' in the mind of the individual.

Peace

Finding our way

After the Roman persecution died down in the early centuries of Christianity, in the intensity of the Egyptian desert men and women sought the Lord. They came there to pray always, purify their hearts, slay their demons and give wisdom to those who sought them out. If you wished to become a follower of their tradition, you could ask your spiritual father for a "word" to meditate on, or digest if you will, in order to bring forth aspects of its meaning. This word could be just a single word or phrase from the Bible, something wise or edifying said by one of the saints of the desert, or the Jesus Prayer itself. (More on that later). So, in that spirit, here are some simple reflections on texts from Scripture. May they prove useful for you on your journey.

Peace.