Brother Paphnutius - an ongoing parable (Part V)

"Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit....But all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will." (1 Cor. 12: 4, 11)

"And he took bread, and gave thanks, and break it, and gave unto them, saying: This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me." (Luke 22: 19)

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Remembrance

May, 367 A.D. - the Egyptian desert

It's been quite an eventful year thus far for one who has committed himself to a life of solitude and stability. The literal resurrection from the dead that had taken place in the community some months ago was still the talk of the nearby towns. Another trip to the Sfeerspons Skete had provided plenty of coffee to help enliven the early morning Vigils as well as a glimpse into their newly re-organised life. No longer saddled with an expensive property that they couldn't really afford, the monks of Sfeerspons (it was purchased by a developer and turned into trendy condos that cost twice as much as they ought to due in no small part to clever advertising that convinced people that marble and aluminum fixtures, as opposed to some elbow room and a yard, in a cramped space is what they really wanted) opened a coffee shop, some of them got married, all live on their own but support each other financially, and everyone is now a lot happier.

Walking back to his cave, Paphnutius was thinking about all these things and pondered the greatness of God's generosity, to wit:


Gifts have been, are continuing to be, and will be given to us. Even the most depressive and neurotic, though they may have to dig down deep, can see that (however subconscious) as an anchor and grasp it on the way to recovery.

On the other hand, it wouldn't be a gift if you couldn't say no.

"The thief cometh not, but for to steal and destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." (John 10: 10)

Thus in Genesis the thief has come, has stolen and maimed that which was (being as participated in by creation) by making it look at, consider, taste, and ingest something of its counterpart (non-being). But even this is not enough to blot out the memory, the anamnesis, of: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness". (Gen. 1: 26)

Thus, the full force of the Incarnation: "The mainstay, which we steadily keep, remains the anamnesis of Christ's redemptive work which permeates our existence and continuously transforms it. The anamnesis is not a simple intellectual function; it is an action. It has an incomparably wider spectrum, which includes the element of thought and makes it an existential, personal event. As members of the eucharistic community we recall again to consciousness the economy of God in Christ through the Holy Spirit, the incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection of Christ, his ascension, and Pentecost. We live them. We share in them. We do this not through our own human abilities but through the grace of the Holy Spirit, through the uncreated energy of God which accomplishes the sacraments.

"Do this in remembrance of me" (Luke 22:20; 1 Cor.11:24), the Lord ordered "on the night when he was betrayed" (1 Cor. 11:23). The continuously proceeding divine energy culminates in the sacrament of the eucharist which has for twenty centuries formed the pivot of a Christian's worship. In liturgical language, the term "anamnesis" defines the core of the eucharistic anaphora, the consecrated offering." - by Anastasios, Archbishop of Tirana, Durres and All Albania (http://www.oikoumene.org/en/resources/documents/assembly/1998-harare/together-on-the-way-official-report-of-the-eighth-assembly/together-on-the-way-2-the-theme-turn-to-god-rejoice-in-hope/22-anamnesis)

This (John 10:10), more than a pious thought or a nice wish to have the material benefits of a mortal existence that we are told we should aspire to, is serious business (O man, look beyond thyself, step outside of time and schedule! There is no second storey!) and our life now is a life of both participation via membership in the body of the Church and her anamnetic practice and consequence via the final judgment which is the state where the last act of the human will takes place, i.e. we will clearly see who we really are and where we stand in the light of Christ, thus accepting our place either on His right or on His left.


Looking up, Paphnutius realised he had covered 10 kilometers without even noticing it. Almost home, yet place isn't really all that important. No matter where you are at, how you live and what you bear in remembrance in each moment - that is what makes all the difference. For we remember not ourselves, but He Who Is the way, and the truth and the life. Each day is a gift, that's why it is called 'the present'.

To be continued...

Trinity XIV

Micah 6: 1-8     Luke 17: 11-19

 

"Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" (Micah 6: 7)
 

This, from the first Lesson today, is indeed the rhetorical question of the Samaritans, shorn of their Temple some 120 years before the birth of Jesus. And so, it seems to me, that there likely must be a home-grown, built-in religious angst present among these estranged Jews, possibly manifested in the form of: "Just what are we supposed to do with ourselves?" And that question is answered in three ways by virtue of the Samaritans present in the Gospel. The woman at the well in John 4 acts as an evangelist on account of her startling encounter with honesty. The Good Samaritan of last Sunday is not afraid to bear the costly burdens of others, even those who may only return hatred for his good will. And then there is the man in receipt of healing that we hear of this morning.
 

We are indeed fortunate to receive examples of the two kinds of disease that can afflict us, not only physical but moral/spiritual as well. St. Paul, in his usual no-nonsense style, lists many of those things that will rot the soul as surely as leprosy decays the flesh: "adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkeness, revellings, and such like...they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God." (cf. Gal. 5: 19-21) The worst thing about this list is that each of these things is subject to indifference and apathy in the heart of man long accustomed to them dwelling within himself. And it is this spirit of indifference which feeds all the other sins listed and wastes the soul. “They which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God”, even to this very day. Thus are these lepers in the Gospel able to be seen as prototype (showing that the working of miracles, outside the common natural order, is indeed possible) and archetype (of the rot induced by a life of sin, consuming the intellect, the will and the senses). From St. Augustine of Hippo: “[T]hose ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off, outside the village, lifted up their voices and said: Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. That they styled him Master, doth sufficiently shew that leprosy signifieth false doctrine, whereof the Good Master doth cleanse us.”
 

“And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger. And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way: thy faith hath made the whole." (Lk. 17: 17-19) I often wondered while pondering this Gospel, what did become of the other nine? Did they indeed go to the Temple to be examined by the priests and have sacrifices offered for themselves? Did they just quietly slip back home hoping that their families would be so overjoyed to have them back that they would forget to ask whether their long departed husband and father had even bothered to seek ritual purification? I wonder if there were some among them who were so absorbed in their own misery that they didn't really believe that Jesus could heal them with a word, and they just proceeded back to their solitary existence away from society, unaware that they were indeed free from contagion, only to be re-infected.
 

Now, in this instance as well as last week's, what Jesus wants to drive home to us is not in fact the inherent moral superiority of the religiously disenfranchised, though these encounters do illustrate well the great contrast emphasised by our Lord Jesus Christ between the mere 'practice of religion' and a true, lively faith that does indeed bring about what it signifies. Rather, He wishes that the true nature of God and a right belief be revealed in terms that we can all understand. Thus, it seems to me that there is a direct connexion between these stories in St. Luke and the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well in the Gospel of St. John, where we read in chapter 4: “But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him." (vs. 23

Jesus certainly gives the woman He meets at the well a run for her money. I bet she went home at least a little freaked out by what He knew about her past. But, sure enough, what she did was exactly the same thing that the Good Samaritan did, indeed exactly the same thing that the Samaritan man healed of his leprosy does. They all worshiped God, each according to his or her particular circumstance, in Spirit and in truth. And the fruits of this worship are recognisable in each of their interior dispositions and the benefit that it brought to those around them. As St. Paul tells us this morning: “[T]he fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law." (Gal. 5: 22-23) The woman at the well gives the gift of a true and sincere faith to those she knew. The Good Samaritan brings health and comfort to a complete stranger, who is in fact “one of the least of these” mentioned by Jesus in chapter 25 of St. Matthew, where He is speaking of the final judgment. And the former leper in St. Luke is able to see beyond his own condition to offer genuine thanks to God. Good counsel, acts of charity and prayers of thankfulness are all forms of worship that connect us as members of the body of Christ, which is the Church. These three people we encounter in the Gospels prefigure the virtues that are a foundation of living a true Christian life and we would do well to take after their examples. Indeed, we dare not do otherwise.
 

Not only that, our Lord also tells us that the Father is seeking such to worship Him. Not that we have to find Him, but that God the Father is seeking us out Himself. How wonderful a revelation that is. For before, the Jews and Samaritans had engaged in a centuries long dispute over where the proper place was to situate the sanctuary of God Most High and to offer the prescribed sacrifices of the Torah. They disagreed over where they should look to seek God. Now, however, that becomes a frivolous argument. God has Himself reached out to us through the person of His Only-Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, “full of grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14). And, lest we forget, we also learn about this from Jesus in Luke 15: "But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him." (vs. 20) There is no more need for disputation, neurosis enducing religious paranoia or anything else of that sort. For, as the Samaritans of the Gospel loudly proclaim: the kingdom of God is at hand.
 

To return to the present narrative, it is significant that Jesus tells the men to see the priests. Notice that He doesn't say specifically that they ought to go to the Temple, because the Jews would have one to go to, while the Samaritans would not. Both groups, however, do accept the authority of the prescriptions in Leviticus chapter 14 regarding the purification from leprosy and both maintained a priesthood.  I think this underscores the point that Jesus Christ is for everyone and all need to be free to approach Him.
 

Speaking of acceptance and rejection, at the beginning of the sermon I mentioned three possible reactions on the part of the newly healed lepers. Some, I'd like to hope, did exactly like they were told. They, at least, had the advantage of religious obedience to legitimate authority. Others, perhaps in a moment of selfishness, were really only concerned about 'getting better.' Once a result was achieved, they just forgot about the gift itself. Then there were those who just sort of followed along because the rest of the group was going, not expecting much of anything beyond a temporary distraction from their misery. With respect to Jesus, they probably asked themselves the same question posed by Nathaniel in St. John's Gospel: “Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?” (1:46b)
 

These days, we seem particularly obsessed with our own misfortunes and those of others. A brief glance at the tabloids, daytime talk shows, the 24-hour 'news cycle' and the superabundance of self-help remedies will tell you all you need to know about contemporary pathology. I think we run the same risk as the hypothetical third group of lepers. We spend so much time obsessing about the bad, that we can fail to notice the good things in life. When I was a monk of Mt. Angel Abbey, I was told the story of one of the deceased Abbots who when diagnosed with inoperable cancer said of his situation: “It's hopeless, but it's not serious.” As well, the wise cousel of Gandalf the Grey tells us: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world...besides the will of evil."
 

Now, I do not wish to downplay the reality that everyone has something to struggle with, no one is not in need of healing. But we can always have confidence, after the manner of the virtuous Samaritans we encounter in the Gospel, that our God and Father is anxiously seeking us out. He will not leave us alone. And, as William Barclay put it: “The best thanks we can give him is to try to deserve his goodness and his mercy a little better” (Barclay, The Gospel of Luke, 218-219)
 

“And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole. And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Lk. 17:19-21) Are you ready to receive this kingdom and all it entails? Then let us put aside the idolatry of selfishness, casting away the uncleanness and instead acting as leavening to a culture hell-bent on surrendering itself to dehumanising violence in a myriad of forms, and rejecting the wrath and sedition of being religiously "against" whoever or whatever it is we are told to be against, but rather living in and for the Lord Jesus. For we "that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.” (cf. Gal. 5: 24)
 

Be, then, Christ's beloved, modeled in the Samaritans of the Gospel and described so well by St. Basil the Great: "They who have removed themselves from the cares of this world should watch over their own heart with all carefulness, so that they may not at any time deprive it of the thought of God, or defile the remembrance of His wonders with the images of earthly vanities. Rather, let the hallowed thought of God, impressed like a seal upon the soul, through the pure and continuous remembrance of Him, be ever borne about with us. For it is in this way that the love of God will come to us, urging us on to the daily task of keeping the Lord’s commandments, and preserved in turn by them from failing or going astray." [Translated by M.F. Toale, D.D. (PG 32, Sermon III, col. 1147.)]

I believe

Herein are some reflexions that served as my "sermon" for the 6th Sunday after Trinity. I consider these essential, but not exhaustive, first principles in making an approach to Christianity.

 

Romans 6: 3-11   Matt. 5: 20-26

 

 

I believe in God...

 

...though He is not an impersonal and uninterested creator, neither is He the demander of submission and obedience, nor the wrathful Omnipotent just waiting to secure His pound of flesh against that which He loathes. Neither is He a petty tyrant with a list of unreasonable demands, nor an unpredictable tester of persons desirous to see how easily we fall from our precarious perch at the edge of the cliff.

 

Rather do I believe in the Father of the prodigal son. I am not that son, though I am like him in every meaningful way. The important thing is not my condition, but rather the response to my return.

 

I believe in God.

 

I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.

 

Though it is a nice, usually public ceremony initiating and acknowledging membership in Christ's Church, that is not the end of the matter.

 

Rather do I believe that in addition, the Epistle to the Romans means what it says when we read: "Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life." In accordance with this, I believe the teaching of the Articles of Religion that "[t]he baptism of young Children is in any wise to be retained in the Church, as most agreeable with the institution of Christ."

 

I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.

 

I believe that the injunction to be reconciled begins within myself...

 

...though it is easy to blame and criticise, to shake one's head and angrily declare what is wrong with the world and those who live in it. It takes not a second thought to tear down and demand change of those whose theology, lifestyles, choices, manners, or culture differs from our own.

 

Rather do I believe that the true measure of orthodoxy is calculated in the heart, not by the intellect. I believe that the source of what we hold against our brother is deeply rooted in that which we know that we hold against ourselves first.

 

I believe that the injunction to be reconciled begins within myself.

 

In spite of everything, I believe in hope...

 

...though many have been driven to despair and atheism by the image of God as a brutal tyrant by those who insist that the Old Testament directives to the Israelites commanding the extermination of whole peoples be taken historically and literally. There are some portions of contemporary American religious practice that are all too eager to declare what God is "for" or "against", thus making of Him nothing more than a useful tool exploitable for our own fears and suspicions.  

 

Rather, do we hear from Isaiah that which will be true in the next life, if not in this one: "He that putteth his trust in me shall possess the land, and shall inherit my holy mountain...For I will not contend forever, neither will I always be wroth: for the spirit should fail before me, and the souls which I have made.... I have seen his ways, and will heal him: I will lead him also, and restore comforts unto him and to his mourners." (Is. 57: 13, 16, 18)

 

In spite of everything, I believe in hope. 

"Sacred Reading", excerpt from Chapter 7

He answered and said unto them, Well hath Esaias prophesied of you hypocrites, as it is written, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men. For laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and cups: and many other such like things ye do. And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. For Moses said, Honour thy father and thy mother; and, Whoso curseth father or mother, let him die the death: But ye say, If a man shall say to his father or mother, It is Corban, that is to say, a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by; he shall be free. And ye suffer him no more to do ought for his father or his mother; Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye. (vs. 6-13)

Wow. Here is Jesus speaking in no uncertain terms. You can imagine that His frustration level with those who really ought to know better is quite high. (I also think of another, similar instance of Him turning out the money changers in the Temple in ch. 11 which we will deal with in due course.) I see at least two reasons why this is the case. 1. Their prevailing attitude presented to us in the Gospels is intrinsically destructive of those who are perceived to stand in its way (cf., again, the man born blind in John 9) and 2. ultimately, however, it will only destroy those who hold onto it with a final refusal of the knowledge that there is a better way that does not in fact deny the truth, but reveals it in a manner that gives life and wholeness. "Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish." (Matt. 18:14)

Some very unkind accusations have been leveled over the years against those churches which maintain a fixed liturgical tradition. The standard assumption is something like the following: I read that Jesus condemns the traditions of men in the Bible. I see these churches following traditions. They must be identical to that which is being condemned, therefore they are being willfully disobedient to Christ and the "plain sense" of the Bible.

I'll deal with this straightaway, but first a word on assumptions and condemnations. In many ways the advent of the internet and online communication has been a tremendous advance and something eminently useful. It allows us to find and keep in touch with those who are a prohibitive distance away or those whom we have lost track of, and allows the transmission of news and ideas to propagate much faster than at any time in human history. But (and it's a big one!), it can also be a relatively anonymous sword with which to dispatch our (perceived) enemies and assault those who dare disagree with us. The worst sort of motives are assumed and the unkindest things are said, things most people would never summon the courage to say in real life. And all because of the relative safety and distance that is provided by the computer screen. A degree of humanity is removed from our intercourse and so we feel free to degrade and condemn because it seems somehow less real. That is a terrible tragedy.

And yet some of the same is present in real life, particularly with regard to highly personal and emotionally charged subjects like religion, politics, sexuality, etc. Occasionally the excuse is offered that one is simply "...speaking the truth in love..." (Eph. 4:15). Really?

There is indeed a time for 'speaking the truth' and there is a time for actually doing it 'in love'. There is also a time to remember that you are conversing with a fellow human being who is entitled to as much dignity and respect as you yourself are, no matter how much you may disagree. Do you know what that time is? Each and every time you open your mouth or put pen to page or pixel to screen. Period. This is a rule that can admit of no exception.

To my "Bible Christian" friends, all I'm saying is: think twice before you move to accuse us of infelicity with regard to the use of liturgy. Be sure of your ground before you move to strike. So... let's take a deep breath, sit back, relax, consider the context in which these traditions of men are being condemned and see where we end up.

Classically, there are four senses of Scripture (the "plain sense" - which can mean just about anything you want it to mean, and so is not really useful at all - not being numbered among them). These senses are: the literal, allegorical, moral and anagogical (this last sense comes from the Greek for "climb" or "ascent" and would have us consider how Scripture tells us about life after death). Each of these senses is complementary of the others and helps to provide a well-rounded view of the Biblical narrative. Let's take each of these in order. Though, let me say that I don't think there is a necessity for each sense to apply equally (or at all) to every last part of the Bible.

Literally, Jesus is here condemning (directly, in person, and without fear) the attitude of the religious establishment that has cemented in place that the rules, regulations and practices of the Law are sufficient in and of themselves. What's even worse is that they have been abused as leverage to countermand the moral teaching of the Pentateuch, in this case the command to "[honour] thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." (Exodus 20: 12)

An allegorical sense could mean seeing the scribes and Pharisees as stand-ins for all the times we as readers and hearers of the Gospel have treated our inheritance (both the Old and New Testaments in continuity and congruity and all that they tell us about Christian belief and practice) in the same way.

Morally, we see how destructive this approach to tradition is to other people and to ourselves, in strict violation of the commandment we will receive in chapter 12 to "love thy neighbor as thyself" (12:31).

Anagogically, well...what do you think about that one? How does it apply here?

For better or worse (dependant on your perspective) then, vs. 8 is not the outright and haphazard condemnation of any and all Church tradition, nor is it actually speaking directly to Christian worship at all, but rather the interior dispositions that ought to inform the Christian who encounters the Gospel (and really, all along, ought to inform the devout Jew as well). We are not encountering a binary, black and white situation here. It is not a "Bible or nothing" scenario at all. Like the reference to Sodom and Gomorrah in ch. 6* , this disputed point can be easily resolved by considering what is actually written on the page in its context and not "ripped out" from there to be used as a stand-alone moral, ethical or liturgical dictum to be applied to any situation at random that "I the reader" wish to on account of my own suspicions and prejudices. This, frankly, is one of the worst ways to approach any text, let alone that which we as Christians regard as revelation of God's plan in Christ when the fullness of time had come. Thus my caution and reading of the text here is an effort to avoid the charge of 'making the word of God of none effect', a very risky thing which we need to constantly guard against.


*When thinking about Sodom and Gomorrah, aside from fire and brimstone, what's the other first thing that comes to mind? Homosexuality. But really, Genesis 19:5 ("And they called unto Lot, and said unto him, Where are the men which came in to thee this night? Bring them out unto us, that we may know them.") is not about "gay issues" but rather about indolence, the poison of a herd mentality, lust and rape. The point is made in the prophecy of Ezekiel: "Behold, this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom, pride, fulness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her and in her daughters, neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy." (Ezek. 16: 49)

Let me re-iterate that it seems very important to me that when we engage the Biblical texts, it is a serious error to make either too much or too little out of what they actually say.

The Fourth Sunday after Easter

Job 19: 21-27a * James 1: 17-21 * John 16: 5-14

 

"Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me! Why do ye persecute me as God, and are not satisfied with my flesh?" (Job 19:21-22) These words of Job clearly show us a man who is less than impressed with the advice of his three friends who have gathered around him in the season of his calamities. Thus while he is no doubt comforted by their presence, their words can only serve as a cautionary counterexample to Job's lived antecedence of the passion of Christ Jesus. And just as Jesus "humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross" so that "God also hath highly exalted him" (Phil. 2:8,9), so Job knows "that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth...whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another." (Job 19: 25, 27)

 

And we, like Job, know these things to be true, even if we cannot (like Job's friends) yet perceive their end and final consummation with our senses. And that, faith in its essence, requires patience. Of this virtue, St. Cyprian (the third century bishop of Carthage and martyr) says: "It is patience which both commends, and preserves us to God. It is this that restrains anger, bridles the tongue, governs the mind, guards peace...binds down the violence of pride, quenches the flame of hatred...makes men humble in prosperity, brave in adversity, mild toward injuries and contempts....It is this that firmly fortifies the foundations of our faith. (from "On the Benefit of Patience")

 

Beautiful! But even that is not generous enough for our loving Father. For He is also glad to send us the Holy Spirit. As we hear in the Gospel today: "It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart I will send him unto you. And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment." (John 16: 7,8)

 

The Greek word rendered here as reprove really has a dual meaning: both ‘to convict’ and ‘to convince’. Just as at trial it is the prosecutor’s role to convict the defendant by convincing the jury, so is it the Spirit’s role to convict us of our need for repentance before God by convincing us of the truth of revelation shown forth in the person and ministry of Christ.

Of these two ideas, I'd like to spend some time thinking about convincing. Separating it into its component Latin roots, we arrive at “con” and “vincere”. Literally these mean "to conquer with". Indeed, Webster’s gives as one definition of convince: “to overpower or to overcome.”

Aside from providing gifts and graces from the life of the Trinity to us, the Holy Spirit also has a decidedly forensic role to play. I was a big fan of the show "Crime Scene Investigation", known as "C.S.I." Every Thursday at 9:00 pm, the team would come across varying circumstances that pointed to a violent crime having been committed. Just a quick glance around the scene is enough to tell you that somebody died in rather unfortunate circumstances.  In the same way, a bit of honest self reflexion and examination is enough to tell us that we ourselves are far from perfect; and, in fact, are victims in our own right of the violence done to our souls and our relationships on account of our sins, our selfish tendencies and our egos. It doesn’t take any special theological knowledge or a gigantic mental leap to see this. Whether or not we acknowledge it, we are aware of our own faults.

The tricky part comes in trying to uncover and prove the events surrounding the scene. The C.S.I. team examines evidence, interviews witnesses and relies on past experience to reconstruct a timeline of events, track down potential suspects and determine the extent of innocence or guilt. The Spirit does much the same for us. He is our moral forensic team. He inspires us to learn and know the teaching of Christ (the “evidence”), the moral law and the deposit of holy tradition entrusted to the Church and the lives of the saints (the “witnesses”) and the extent of the injury we cause ourselves and others when we sin (an objective standard of guilt). All of these things fall under the category of ‘convincing.’

 

But I think as well that when we are told that the world will receive the reproof of the Spirit with regard to our sins, it is not to be understood as a catalogue of faults that He uncovers with the aim of inflicting some sort of judicial punishment or retribution. In fact, I think that is a terribly false construction that is highly detrimental both theologically and spiritually. Rather is it a means of exposing our wounds and brokenness so that they might be accessible to treatment and uncovering to bring about healing. Indeed, the Spirit of God is the very means by which our healing, our regeneration and the process of our redemption is brought about.

 

We are ‘convinced,’ we are ‘overpowered,’ we are ‘overcome’ by God’s Spirit not by any great show of force but by the gentle prodding of our conscience and our intellect. He is that inner fire that refines and purifies, but does not consume. Though they seem to be ever in high demand, now is not the time for great signs and wonders for we have already received the greatest sign of all in the death and Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ which we continue to celebrate especially during these fifty days.

One of the most universally acclaimed verses of Scripture illustrating this is John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” How true that is. What can be forgotten is that it is a conditional statement, not an absolute guarantee regardless of the circumstances. To believe involves active and living faith, not passive receptivity via osmosis. Further on in the Epistle of St. James than we hear today, we read: "But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves." (James 1:22) The Spirit Who enlightens our faith is Himself active and not passive.

In summary, then. To believe is to die and rise in Christ. It is a whole new mode of life. To do this is impossible without receiving the ‘convincing’ of the Spirit of God. Once more, in the words of St. James: “Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth that we should be a kind of first fruits of his creatures….Therefore put away all filthiness and rank growth of wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.” (James 1: 18, 21). Who is it that has done this planting? It is the Spirit of God Himself. By this means He inspires, He convinces,  and in the midst of the temporalities of suffering, death and false assurances He gives us the hopeful vision of Job. And finally, in the words of Garrison Keillor, He gives us “the strength to get up and do what needs to be done.”



Depression

I've always had a hard time finding an adequate expression of how it feels to be depressed. A month or so ago I was re-reading Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and I came across the following. I thought to myself: "Yes! This! This is how it makes me feel."

Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose
upon no sadder sight than the man of
good abilities and good emotions,
incapable of their directed exercise,
incapable of his own help and his own
happiness, sensible of the blight on him,
and resigning himself to let it eat him away.

 

 

Thank God for medication. 

Low Sunday

Isaiah 43: 1-12 *  I John 5: 4-12  * John 20: 19-23

 

In the Book of Common Prayer (1928 American edition) there are four selections from the Gospels given for the Octave of Easter. On Sunday, we hear about the empty tomb from St. John. On Monday, St. Luke tells of the disciples walking to Emmaus and speaking about Jesus. Only after they have shared a meal with the stranger they meet on the road do they realize it is the risen Christ in their presence. Tuesdays’ Gospel and this mornings’ are accounts of Jesus appearing to the Apostles as they are gathered in the upper room, where I am sure the very air is filled with an admixture of fear, confusion and hope. It is interesting to me that one of His first acts is to show them His wounds from the Crucifixion as proof that He lives. I’ll just bet that our first reaction upon meeting someone unexpectedly would not be to hoist a pant leg and show off that knee replacement. In fact, we spend considerable time and effort trying to conceal our wounds and imperfections from each other and ourselves. Just look at all the ads for Botox, effortless weight loss and prescriptions for various dysfunctions mental and physical that surround us in print and electronic media.  Just so, there are many these days, consciously or not, who wish to conceal the wounds of Christ as well; who think that, in light of the Resurrection, His suffering and death and the torments that He received as predicted especially by Isaiah are nothing but temporary inconveniences now thankfully passed into the dustbin of history and non-being. Why? They make us uncomfortable, for they are icons of our sinfulness. The problem with trying to eliminate them is that we are not just baptized into Jesus' Resurrection, but also into His death. As soon as we have spiritually probed His hands and feet and accepted this as reality, then we inherit the obligation to follow Him all the way through the tomb. It is not always a pleasant journey: it's dark, cramped and it stinks. It is a journey that will cause us to encounter all kinds of things about ourselves that we would just as soon forget.

From a homily of St. Gregory the Great: “For whatever can be touched, must needs be subject to corruption; and whatever is not subject to corruption cannot be touched. But, in a way altogether wonderful and incomprehensible, our Redeemer after his Resurrection revealed himself in a body at once palpable and incorruptible. Yea, he revealed himself in an incorruptible body, that we might learn to seek a like glorification; and in a palpable body, for the strengthening of our faith.”

One of the fundamental principles of Christian spirituality, summed up in the Collect for today, takes up this theme of duality, of life in death, of palpability and incorruptibility, by recalling that we cannot have joy without suffering any more than we can know suffering apart from joy. Our Lord’s passion and death tell us as much. Easter is as impossible without Good Friday as Good Friday is impossible without Easter. Why, then, try to deny the undeniable? Jesus shows the Apostles His hands and feet, saying: ‘Yes, I am alive and here’s the proof of what I did for you.’ Those marks are the marks of our sins; past, present and future. Even after Easter they are apparent. And that’s okay. They show us how desperately we were in need of redemption. If we try to conceal them, we are not being true to ourselves. They are our last refuge against the forthrightness of God’s justice, but also the greatest proof of His mercy. In them, He says to us: 'a perfectly effectual sacrifice was required of you, I have offered that sacrifice for you.'

The Epistle this morning contains some rather evocative imagery: water, blood and the Spirit. In a literary sense, the entirety of the history of our salvation is presented here: from the flood waters of Genesis, to the passage through the Red Sea, down to the ministry of John the Baptist; from the blood shed at the institution of the Covenant with Abraham by means of circumcision to the blood offerings in the Temple to the perfect Lamb Who was slain once for all on the Cross; from the motive power of the Holy Ghost over the formless wasteland to the inspiration of the words of the Prophets, to Jesus breathing on the Apostles and giving them the gift of the Holy Ghost.

These three elements mentioned in St. John also make an appearance sacramentally in each of our lives as well. Water flows at our baptism, the Holy Spirit is invoked at our confirmation by the bishop, and the blood of Christ is made present in the elements on the altar each time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist. In a sense, during the course of these sacramental acts all of those things I just mentioned (from the Flood waters to the breathing forth of the Holy Ghost) are recalled and in that remembering are made present in order that we as believers might perpetually bear in heart, mind and body all that has come to pass. In Greek, this is known as anamnésis, and also forms one of the key elements in our Prayer of Consecration over the Eucharistic elements, to wit: "having in remembrance his blessed passion and precious death, his mighty resurrection and glorious ascension; rendering unto thee most hearty thanks for the innumerable benefits procured unto us by the same." In both the life of Jesus and our lives in Him, these three things point to the truth of God, as St. John tells us in the Epistle as well. That truth is intrinsically connected to both Calvary and the empty tomb.

Water, blood and the Spirit. These are not somehow mystical talismans any more than are the physical pages of the Bible or the words themselves printed thereon - able to be summoned on demand to confirm our self-assumed righteousness or to confound our perceived enemies. These things have no power to conceal our sins or to hide our true character. Neither do they have any power to erase the wounds Christ received on the Cross. And thank God for that! That is why He appears as He does to the Apostles. What they are able to do, however, is far more significant. They bring us into the fellowship that is the Church. It is at that point that our personal contribution to living the Christian life begins, where we "fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ, in [our] flesh, for his body, which is the church" (Col. 1:24). Then we must learn, in the words of the Collect, to: “put away the leaven of malice and wickedness, that we may always serve [God] in pureness of living and truth; through the merits of…Jesus Christ our Lord.” That is how we deal with our woundedness.

I would also like to spend some time considering the idea of leavening as mentioned in the collect, for it is an oft-invoked image of both the Old and New Testaments. One of the definitions of the verb to leaven given in Webster’s is: “to mingle, or permeate with a transforming element.” And I thought, how like the Cross and Resurrection that is. The triple aspect of Spirit, water and blood that we hear about this morning does indeed permeate our lives as Christians, allowing our entire being to be transformed into an image of Jesus Christ himself. Indeed, we have no other purpose than this: to continuously engage and be engaged by this process until it becomes indistinguishable from our very selves.

But then I thought, how like sin is this leavening also. For every sin begins on the surface, as an impulse of the intellect, having its cause from either internal or external stimuli. If it is allowed room to develop in the mind, then it finds its way to the will where it works to gain control of our motive power. After that, it is just a matter of time before we are doing or saying today what we only gave ashamed thought to yesterday. The further this process is allowed to develop, the more difficult it becomes to extricate it from our lives. Thoughts become desires, become actions, become habits, become a part of the “just who we are” that is so incorrectly affirmed by some contemporary thinking. Is it any wonder that so many people simply have no ‘moral compass’ at all these days? They are not asking for blame, but for help, in the manner proved by the Good Samaritan.

But the converse is also true. The more virtue is allowed to expand in the mind, the more it will affect our motive powers as well. Think of it this way. We live in a physical universe where everything takes up a finite amount of space. If I have a jar full of water and I drop some stones into it, what happens? Some of the water is pushed out to make room for the stones. It is the same way in the spiritual life. Virtue and vice both compete for the same amount of "space" that is our soul. Adding more of one will necessarily force out some of the other. What we struggle with then, is not just to remove as much of the bad as possible but also fill its place with the good. And in this process, just as some water from the jar is bound to spill over onto the floor, surely some of our own woundedness will be exposed to view, our own or that of others, just as the wounds of Christ were visible in His post-Resurrection appearances. And that is a good thing. It puts us in touch with reality (God is not deceived, no matter how hard we try). And...it is an opportunity for greater humility in our dealings with each other and ourselves. There is an oft-quoted adage that the road to recovery begins with admitting we have a problem. In the same way, our road to eternal life begins in the pierced hands, feet and side of Jesus Christ, from which flow water and blood and the Spirit of God is outpoured.

In conclusion, consider this, from the Old Testament Lesson at Morning Prayer today: "But now thus saith the Lord that created thee, O Jacob, and he that formed thee, O Israel, Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee" (Is. 43:1-2).

We who are baptised have indeed passed safely through the waters. Though their depths are dark, we have great confidence in the One Who passed this way before us. He has taken up and perfected the journey of the Israelites through the Red Sea, thus making sign and symbol come to fruition in reality. On account of this, we can now boldly accept the injuction given to the Romans: "Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?" (6:3). And, in the words of the Psalmist: "Therefore will not we fear...Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof." (Ps. 46: 2-3a)

We who have received the fire of the Holy Ghost have received the gift of Him Who burns within but does not consume, the Divine reality of the type presented in Exodus. Rather do these fires serve the purpose described by the Prophet Malachi: "But who may abide the day of his coming? And who shall stand when he appeareth? For he is like a refiner's fire, and like fuller's soap: And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness" (Mal. 3:2-3).

And so, whenever our Lord comes to you, in whatever guise or circumstance of life it may be, He greets you with His peace and shows you His wounds. Do not be afraid to do likewise. In light of the events that have come to pass liturgically these past two weeks, we have been given everything we need to come to terms with them. 

Oh Fudge!

"Though they curse, yet bless thou" (Ps. 109:27)

We are surrounded with profanity. I learned how to cuss at Catholic school! Using my faculty of speech in a way that always honours God and builds up other people is something that I struggle with. It is easy to swear when frustrated and upset, when feeling depressed or wounded (physically or emotionally), or just to add some emphasis or shock value to a conversation.

Even though they are not given physical, vocalised existence through the mouth, these words are formed and can linger and poison us perfectly well in the mind. If I lack confidence and courage to tell someone how I really think or feel or that I don't like what they have said or done to me, I can spend time reliving the scene mentally, this time demolishing them with my quick wit and thoughtful sarcasm. People I dislike are repeatedly shot through in my mind with all the things that I want to tell them, each dart being further and further inflamed by my unseen and uncontrolled desire.

And yet, for all the effort that goes into suchlike things, none of them are of God. Though we are surrounded by the bad example of others, we are not called to imitate it.

"Though they curse, yet bless thou"