Changes ahead

"Everything changes and nothing stands still." A saying of Heraclitus of Ephesus who also, incidentally, has given us the philosophical grounding of "logos" so integral to the theology of the Johannine Gospel and Epistles. 

I mention this for two reasons: 1. It's just interesting (knowledge for its own sake and all that) and 2. I will be moving in a few weeks' time to take up a teaching job at a new classical school in Florida. There is a link on the sidebar if you want to check it out. An opportunity presented itself that was too good to pass up, particularly the chance to be academically "useful" again and to once more have a meaningful ministry.

Thus the blog will resort to its typical lack of new posts for some time as I get settled in. Thanks for reading. Stay tuned...

Low Sunday

On this Sunday I am privileged to be the guest preacher at St. Paul Anglican parish in Melbourne, Florida. Here's what I have to say: 

In the Book of Common Prayer, 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. And they also encapsulate Christ's perfect, all sufficient work of redemption on the Cross and in the Resurrection. If we try to conceal them, we deny reality and we are not being true to ourselves. (We do the work of the 'father of lies', per Jesus' admonition in John 8:44). 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 injunction 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.

Thomas Merton & Chuang Tzu (2)

 "Personalism and individualism must not be confused. Personalism gives priority to the person and not the individual self. To give priority to the person means respecting the unique and inalienable value of the other person, as well as one's own, for a respect that is centered only on one's individual self to the exclusion of others proves itself to be fraudulent." (The Way..., p. 17)

I hope, in my life and work, to cultivate a culture of personalism with those I am given to know. It is a big ask, work for a lifetime (and then some!), and strongly counter to the prevailing forces of our time, magnified as they are by (anti-)social media.

1. Fearful conformism

If it really comes down to “me vs. everyone else”, then the two prevailing options that have manifested themselves so robustly really are the fruit of this tree - individualism. The first, selfishness, is the driving force of our [By “our” I refer to contemporary America. Yes, it is a gross generalisation. But it is also plainly present and “infects” a wide swath of our society.] politics, our economics, our religious practice, our foreign policy, our cult of “celebrity”, our willingness to embrace all kinds of contrary-to-fact ideas because they appeal to the self as singular and unique, worthy of indulgence and adoration.

The second, fearful conformism, is a particular problem among the young. Seeking a stable identity, they latch onto what their peers have collectively come to proclaim is the “good of the day” with as much fundamentalism as they ascribe to and denounce in their elders.

It is ironic, then, that at the heart of this individualism lies such a corrosive collectivity. We are angry and resentful because we have been influenced or told to be so by the angry and resentful social environment we immerse ourselves in.

The culture mirrors the politics which mirrors the culture. It is so very ugly, poisonous, and dehumanising. And then we think that pursuing artificial intelligence and genetic manipulation to create “better” (And no one is thinking this through, either. Where are the social philosophers and ethicists to think deeply and debate the nature of this “improvement”?) versions of ourselves either biologically or virtually is going to solve anything. It is indeed fraudulent.

A part of the cure doubtless involves a (re-)embrace of personalism. A few year ago, I read a book by Susanne Antonetta titled “A Mind Apart: Travels in a Neurodiverse World”. She has bipolar disorder and is friendly with a group of folks who have various mental health issues. She worries, as do I, that something unique and valuable will be lost to the world if medical science and treatments are eventually able to eradicate any such phenomena before they have a chance to appear in people.

    “Anyway, I have bipolar disorder and have to tolerate lots of odd, unruly things happening in my head....But with the challenges come the gifts. And the sense, often raised by my correspondents, that the word cure is the wrong word, and that we must begin to respect the mental processes of the individual, think in terms of helping to get the gifts to emerge while the challenges become as manageable as they can. We need to develop new terms of value and of tolerance, especially as medical work in the alteration of the gene makes possible the eradication of our kind.” (Antonetta, A Mind Apart, pp. 3, 9)

In like manner, there are over 6000 extant languages spoken on earth today. A statistic posted on NationalGeographic.com says that one language “dies” every 14 days. And with it, something of the culture, the history, the way of perceiving things, dies with it. That is a great tragedy.

I was going to continue on with two other subheadings: “the tyranny of the immediate” and “the abjuration of responsibility” both of which are symptoms of the above discussion and are exacerbated by our uncritical embrace of social “networking”, but I think I'll stop here with a simple clarion call to embrace a life of personalism, to reject the “vanilla-isation” (though I don't accept the pejorative of “vanilla” as a synonym for plain, basic, or uninteresting as I think it has a marvelous aroma and flavour...but I digress) of discourse, of humanity and to embrace the authenticity of those who don't fit in. Please don't try to advise or, God forbid(!), “fix” us. Just be okay with our existence and know that we are doing our best with what we have to work with and we would wish the same for you.

Thomas Merton & Chuang Tzu (1)

By way of preface to my ongoing remarks in this series, this is in no way any sort of “formal” engagement with Merton's text. Rather is it my engagement with some of the “nuggets” found in the text itself in a way that may only tangentially relate to the wider context in which they are given. This is, rather, some of the operative “background noise” present when I read the text.

[Sidenote: As has become apparent, I will owe a significant debt to the writing of Fr. Stephen Freeman here. His work, both on his blog “Glory to God for all things” and in his book “Everwhere Present”, has had a significant impact on my thinking and helped to clarify certain theological “issues” in a way that is both intellectually cogent and emotionally satisfactory.]

And so we begin...

"The fashion of Zen in certain western circles fits into the rather confused pattern of spiritual revolution and renewal. It represents a certain understandable dissatisfaction with conventional spiritual patterns and with ethical and religious formalism. It is a symptom of western man's desperate need to recover spontaneity and depth in a world which his technological skill has made rigid, artificial, and spiritually void. But in its association with the need to recover authentic sense experience, western Zen has become identified with a spirit of improvisation and experimentation-with a sort of moral anarchy that forgets how much tough discipline and what severe traditional mores are presupposed by the Zen of China and Japan." (The Way..., p. 16)

1. Dissatisfaction

I live with this daily. Some of it comes from within myself, much of it from outside. But it will not do to simply rehash a set of grievances after the manner of social media. Rather does it become a question of discerning what I can change or manage (very few things and in a very limited manner) and what I cannot (most things and all people). That is the reality of being human, of being finite, necessarily limited. Look, after all, at the destruction that is wrought by our limited power. Imagine if we had more, and that that "more" was not just a product of our delusion but a fact. Thank God for our limitedness.

"If I have to boast, I will boast of what pertains to my weakness." (2 Cor. 11:30 _ NASB)

Fr. Stephen Freeman, a veritable gold mine of quotable material, says this in an article titled The Power in Thought – It's Not What You Think: "The simple fact is that we do not know how to manage the world. We do not know what constitutes a good outcome. We do not have the knowledge to see the future, to understand and comprehend the collateral damage of our management. The only guarantee of the outcome of history (and our lives) is the goodwill of God....In the words of St. Maximus the Confessor: He who understands the mystery of the Cross and the Tomb knows the meaning of all things." (blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2godforallthings/ 2018/04/16/the-power-in-thought-its-not-what-you-think/)

2. The Technological void

The advent of computer technology and digitisation has made information more widely and readily available than ever. If I need something for academic research or teaching purposes, I no longer have to trek to the library, sort through the card catalogue, speak with the reference desk, and search through a book or periodical for what I need. It is all available through my computer and/or "smart" phone in the comfort of my home. In fact, such a routine as I describe, well within my own living memory and experience (and I'm not that old!) seems almost unthinkably quaint and inefficient.

And perhaps it is inefficient. But at what cost have we traded inefficiency for perpetual availability? The student has a myriad of distractions constantly at his or her fingertips. The office worker is always just a text message away. There is no longer a sense of the "end" of the workday. And there has been a "flattening" of the discernment of what is true, what is genuinely contributive to knowledge and experience, and what is merely a load of tosh generated by the emotive "wisdom" of the collective. Do we really now need Youtube and discussion fora to tell us what to think and how to react to our lived experience? Can we not even use the bathroom or walk down the sidewalk to the grocery store without the crutch of the smartphone?

There is currently no sign of stopping such "progress" either. Our humanity will continue to be degraded (it is an ontological crisis, which requires an ontological solution), we will attempt to incorporate ourselves further and further into our virtual "idols" and to anesthetise the institutional chaos, which we have created, with money, prescription drugs, wars, greed, useless politicking. 

God save us from ourselves!

Again, from Fr. Stephen: "Christ is far more than a good man who set an example, and more than a victim of social wrong-doing. The Christian story is far richer. The nature of sin is death, not mere social oppression. Death reigns over us and holds us in bondage to its movement away from God. It certainly manifests itself in various forms of evil-doing. But it also has a cosmic sway in the movement of all things towards death, destruction, and decay. Our problem is not our morality: it is ontological, rooted in our alienation from being, truth, and beauty – from God Himself. Broken communion leads to death. Immorality, in all its forms, is but a symptom." (blogs.ancientfaith.com/ glory2godforallthings/2020/11/15/the-gospel-of-progress-and-the-new-jerusalem/)

3. Authentic sense experience and self-discipline

Yes, I realise the great irony (in light of the foregoing) that I have conceived and posted these words with an electronic device on a digital medium. But these are simply convenient tools for me. When I have finished I will sip my tea, pick up a good book, and later take a walk in a park. Technology can be useful, but it can also be destructive and manipulative (which is what its creators are counting on – how else can they get you to believe that you need a new phone every year and that you should gladly pay $1000 for it!).

So I am advocating here for a renewal of sensory experience, a greater appreciation of the real world (there is nothing like the smell of fresh flowers, the feeling of the sun's warmth, the sights and sounds of the beach, a nice glass of wine and a good conversation with a friend about meaningful things), and a re-engagement with our humanity. This will take some conscientious practice. And then, when the virtual world collapses in on itself, you won't be so caught off guard and realise that life goes on without your ipad! To that end, I also recommend “Culture Care” by Makoto Fujimura.

Still alive...

Due to the press of business, posting here has been rather sparse for a while. In fact, traffic to this blog has always been minimal. I suppose that is the result when it isn't widely known, the topics are/have been rather esoteric, and the author is himself rather eccentric(?). But I find that processing through writing and editing helps to clarify my thoughts so if this is only helpful for me, so be it. 

By way of renewal then, I have begun reading Thomas Merton's (another eccentric, not always understood or valued by the ecclesiastical establishment - I have always been drawn to such people, they are after my own heart) The Way of Chuang Tzu and shall offer commentary on both Merton's introduction as well as the poetry in the book (that he has translated from other translations). I offer here Merton's own justification for my interest in his work: "I simply like Chuang Tzu because he is what he is and I feel no need to justify this liking to myself or to anyone else. He is far too great to need any apologies from me. If St. Augustine could read Plotinus, if St. Thomas could read Aristotle and Averroes (both of them certainly a long way further from Christianity than Chuang Tzu ever was!), and if Teilhard de Chardin could make copious use of Marx and Engels in his synthesis, I think I may be pardoned for consorting with a Chinese recluse who shares the climate and peace of my own kind of solitude, and who is my own kind of person." (The Way..., pp. 10-11) 

My next post will begin the dive into the Introduction. Stay tuned...

Trinity Sunday

 

"And thou shalt make the breastplate of judgment with cunning work; after the work of the ephod thou shalt make it...And thou shalt set in it settings of stones, even four rows of stones: the first row shall be a sardius, a topaz, and a carbuncle: this shall be the first row....And the fourth row a beryl, and an onyx, and a jasper: they shall be set in gold in their inclosings." (Ex. 28:15a,17,20)

It is interesting to note that the order of the stones given for the priestly breastplate here in Exodus is reversed in the book of Revelation. The sardius, or sardine – a deep, brownish red reminiscent of blood – exchanges its first place with the jasper – which can appear opaquely white. How appropriate that in the literary and theological transition from the Old to the New Testament, the first has become last and the last, first. Just so then, the first Adam, by his disobedience, is stained with blood and death. The second Adam, Christ the sinless and unstained one, assumes his place and becomes "the first begotten of the dead" (Rev. 1:5). So the positioning of the stones in these two instances acts as a mirror image of our redemption. Life was exchanged for death, which became life again. As we read in I Corinthians 15:22: "For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
    

Consider this as well. Dr. Oliver Greene, in an article posted on Philologos.org, says: "In the Old Testament the saints looked forward to the day when the Lamb would come, they looked forward to the cross [cf. Isaiah 53], and therefore saw the Sardius...the blood-red stone...first. They looked beyond that and saw the Jasper, the clear white stone representing His power and His rule at His second coming." (philologos.org/bpr/files/j001.htm) The Lamb having now been offered once for all and the vision of the heavenly liturgy being opened out before him, the Evangelist St. John quite naturally sees things from the other side as it were where the victory of the Resurrection appears to have priority amongst the allegorical imagery. "And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone." (Rev. 4:3a)
    

There are certainly plenty of other things to consider in today's Epistle. I will, however, limit myself to just two. The Rev. Isaac Williams, in a sermon for Trinity Sunday, had this to say: "The seasons of our sacred year have carried us through the great events of our Redemption, our Lord’s Birth and Temptation, His Passion, His Resurrection and Ascension, and the coming of the Holy Ghost; and now...the mystery of the Blessed Trinity is revealed; and for one half of the year from this time we commemorate by lessons of obedience this doctrine of the Three Persons in One God." (Williams, Sermon 47)
    

It is clear from this that the doctrine of the Holy Trinity is not just something that we hold casually and incidentally. When the Rev. Williams speaks of our commemorating this doctrine "by lessons of obedience", that can be seen in at least two instances. First of all, in the liturgical praxis of the Book of Common Prayer and several of the pre-Reformation western rites, every Sunday from now until Advent will be celebrated or commemorated as some ordinal number after Trinity. Thus the life of the Trinity becomes for us the referent in all of our public worship.
    

Secondly, our Lord Jesus Christ, in His divine nature, is the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. In those very lessons from the Gospels that we hear, when He tells a parable, that is the eternal Godhead telling a parable. And here we must pause to bear in mind as well that speech is impossible without both words and the breath that impels them. Thus we are hearkened back to the beginning of creation in Genesis where God speaks His Word Who is moved by the Spirit. "And the Spirit of God [which word in Hebrew, ruach (roó-akh), is synonymous with "breath", "wind" or "spirit"] moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light." (Gen. 1:2b-3) So in every instance where Jesus speaks, there before us is another manifestation of the creative power of the Triune God. Thus it becomes trebly poignant when Jesus preaches, for that is God preaching.When He heals, that is God healing.  And when we read in John 11:35 "Jesus wept", in a particular sense that is God weeping. For as the Athanasian creed proclaims, "Who although he be God and Man, yet he is not two, but one Christ." So it seems pretty clear to me that we are indeed, and greatly privileged that it should be so, "commemorat[ing] by lessons of obedience this doctrine of the Three Persons in One God."
    

I shall return to Isaac Williams' commentary in a moment, but first a brief aside about the Athanasian Creed. It is a curious thing to me that, while it has been included in every edition of the English Book of Common Prayer from the getgo in 1549, it took until 1979 for it to make an appearance in an American Prayer Book. A variety of theories have been proposed as to why this is the case from it simply being a matter of length to our rather (in some quarters) robust embrace of principles stemming from the Enlightenment which tend to shy away from strong doctrinal statements such as: "Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the Catholic Faith. Which faith except everyone do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly." Seemingly, yes, that is a strong doctrinal statement. But it is no more so than what we read in John 14:6, "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." Two things about this whole issue. First, some of the squeamishness can be laid directly at the feet of our generically Nominalistic approach to things as a default position. The Nominalist says: I see words such as "catholic" or "perish everlastingly" and I feel that I ought not to like them, therefore they are categorically unlikeable for me. I have named them as such, and that is my truth.
    

Secondly, this visceral objection to such things as the aforementioned portions of the Athanasian Creed and the Gospel need not have the 'teeth' that we think it does. Philosophically, I am something of a Neoplatonist and that colours my outlook on a lot of things. I tend to think in terms of archetypes and images. Thus, I can quite sincerely both recite the Athanasian creed and mean every word of it, while at the same time not assuming that everyone who has left the practice of Christianity for a variety of reasons is simply destined for hell. It is simply not our place to judge and condemn as we do not know the circumstances. And it's no wonder so many people have been frightened away. Frankly, religion in our day has reached a low ebb. We have become so confused that we now simply apply a "Jesus veneer" to our pet neuroses and anxieties and call it a day. All I'm saying is that things don't have to be what we think they are at first blush.
    

Back to the business at hand, again from today's Epistle. "[T]he first voice which I heard was as it were of a trumpet talking with me; which said, Come up hither, and I will shew thee things, which must be hereafter." (Rev. 4:1) Isaac Williams continues on: "It was a voice speaking, and yet it was as of a trumpet.  This combines together the two great events of Pentecost—the awful trumpet of Mount Sinai on the giving out of the Law, and the living tongues on the descent of the Spirit; the one expressive of fear, the other of love; the fear and love with which we are henceforth to live in the great mystery of Godliness, as revealed to us in the Old and New Testament."   (Williams, ibid)
    

This transition from holy fear alone to that converted and inflamed by the Holy Ghost in the fire of His love is aptly illustrated for us in (appropriately enough) three instances in today's Gospel. Firstly, Nicodemus comes to Jesus under cover of darkness and gives for his opening volley what has, no doubt, become the default "party line" of affirming Jesus' good intentions. And yet, I don't think Nicodemus is being anything but sincere here. In light of the risk to his socio-religious position he is taking in associating with Jesus, certainly an understandable fear, he is being a cautious man. Straightway does Jesus begin to help him see by looking beyond the established way of seeing things. This new birth will take away all that has been holding him back. Jesus not only recognises the position that Nicodemus finds himself in, he offers the way out of it. Such is the goodness of the love of God overcoming the fear that has been engendered via the keeping of the Law and its accretions in the context of living under the watchful eye of the Roman state.
    

Secondly, Nicodemus takes Jesus too literally, thinking that he is being asked to go back in time, stuff himself back into the womb and do a second take. He is afraid that what he is being told, appealing as it is to him, is impossible. The bit about the wind blowing "where it listeth" is a good follow-on to the rector's sermon on the Sunday after the Ascension when he told us that it doesn't so much matter "how" the Ascension happened as "that" it did. Jesus is comforting Nicodemus out of what must have become an ingrained eye for fine points and details that his experience of interpreting and living the Law must have provided him. The "how" of the operation of grace in being born again of water and the Spirit is not so important as the "that" of being born of water and the Spirit, which administration thereof has been entrusted to the life of the Church. 
    

Finally, poor exasperated Nicodemus just can't take it anymore. "How can these things be?" he asks. And Jesus gives him a brief glimpse of both the necessity of the Incarnation as well as the promise of the Resurrection in terms that Nicodemus could understand via Moses' use of the bronze serpent to heal the people of Israel, who had complained themselves into dire straits once again. Most certainly was this complaining done out of uncertainty and fear, just as the human motives of the Sanhedrin and the secular power under Pontius Pilate for crucifying Jesus were also impelled by uncertainty and fear and just as the commission of Original Sin was also motivated by uncertainty and fear. Yet, thanks be to God, such things no longer need have place among us for, as Isaac Williams says: "[The Spirit] makes present on earth the things of eternity; He reveals to the heart the mysteries of Heaven. "
    

In conclusion, in all the things we have considered today, the old and new Adams enshrined and foreshadowed on the breastplate of the high priest, the life of the triune God obediently considered in all the Sunday Eucharistic propers in the Prayerbook and the conversion of the stupefying fear of the Old Covenant into the reverential and loving fear of the New by the descent of the Holy Ghost, the Holy Trinity is on display in full force.
    

It has been said that the longer one preaches on Trinity Sunday, the greater the likelihood of falling into heresy becomes. Thus, in the face of all that is presented to us for consideration on this day, let us then fall silent and take to heart the words of Psalm 95: "O come, let us worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker. For he is the Lord our God; and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand."

Sunday within the Octave of the Ascension

 "The end of all things is at hand; be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer." 

(1 Peter 4:7)

 A couple of things come to mind when I read or hear this  verse, both having to do with our contemporary cultural situation. But first, an important caveat. Passages like this in the Scriptures may indeed speak to our circumstances, but rarely (if at all) do they speak of our circumstances in more than a generalised way. What I mean by that is that, no, the Bible does not predict or describe political or social events in 21st century America, 16th century Europe, or any other socio-political phenomenon outside of the eschatology of the Christian  faith proclaimed in the New Testament during the 1st century A.D. To think otherwise is, quite frankly, to reduce the Scriptures to the status of pagan superstition and to embrace idolatry. There are many idols, just as there are many "antichrists". The current ones are neither special nor unique. "Little children, it is the last time: and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time." (1 John 2:18)
    

To resume, then, we who live in the "last times" (which began at the moment of Jesus' Resurrection by the way, and have persisted until our own day) are indeed both called to be "sober" and to witness to its lack among our fellows. In the Greek, the word translated as "sober" is sōphronéō [Strongs G4993], which can mean: to be of sound mind, to exercise self control, to curb one's passions.
    

Surely the embrace and dissemination of conspiracy theories is a key indicator of the lack of soberness present in our culture. Consider this, from Lifeway Research, a ministry associated with the Southern Baptist Convention: 

 [C]onspiracy theories have become a growing concern for many pastors and church   leaders across the country. In a recent Lifeway Research study, 49% of U.S. Protestant pastors say they frequently hear church members repeating conspiracy   theories. While spreading harmful information has no religious or ideological limits,   such dangerous explanations have a long, unfortunate history among Christians.Church historians, Christian apologists, and those who have personally suffered as a result of conspiracy theories say followers of Christ must be concerned with seeking and following truth. Mary Jo Sharp, author of Living in Truth: Confident  Conversations in a Conflicted Culture, says there are two main reasons people are  drawn to conspiracy theories—ease of understanding and escape from the  ordinary....Sharp says conspiracy theories often ignore the myriad of complex beliefs, desires, and motivations humans bring to an issue. Without those complicating matters, the conspiracy theorist can more easily comprehend the issue and move on with other things. 'Belief in a conspiracy theory may be born out of a good desire to understand a situation but devolves into finding quickly digestible answers,' she  says, 'like fast food for the mind.' [click here for the whole article]

 

In other words, it is an ego-maniacal exercise in conveniently shoring up the fears and suspicions of the individual. Conspiracy theories offer an easy to comprehend explanation, a sense of fellowship with one's fellow believers, the thrill of having "inside information", and the addictive power of the passions in angrily justifying oneself to one's perceived enemies by means of the available anonymity of social media. Such things have no place among Christian people, as we read in Ephesians 4:22-24, "That ye put off concerning the former conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts; And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; And that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness." 

"Be ye therefore sober."    

Something else to consider with regard to "soberness" has to do with 'being in one's right mind'. And, yes, it's easy to laugh and joke about that. But it is a very serious concern. As many of you know, I struggle with mental health issues including depression and anxiety, which have been greatly exacerbated over the course of the past year where seemingly everything is in flux and we are surrounded by chaos and despair. And the Christian Church has not been spared these things even within her own ranks. But that should not be a surprise, for we are not called to be of the world, but we still do live in the world and bear its burdens.
    

I can tell you that I like to know what's happening, I like to make plans ahead of time. And that is just not possible right now. And, yes, we can talk about how that is a grace and wallow in pious imaginings, but it is also a hard thing to endure. There are days when my anxiety is literally debilitating to the point I can't summon the will to go outside. I wake up in the morning fearing the worst and spend the rest of the day talking myself down from those heights. It is a destructive pathology that cannot be overcome solely by the strength of my will. I am getting help to manage these things, but I also admit that I may have to carry them around for a while, perhaps for balance of my life. Perhaps this is my "thorn in the flesh" that St. Paul talked about (cf. 2 Cor. 12:7). That is my lack of soberness.
    

And I tell you this for two reasons. One is simply to offer encouragement to you. We all, without exception, have things to struggle with. And it is so easy to convince ourselves that it's just us, everyone else is fine. In reality, that is mostly a façade. Much of our strength of character comes from how we choose to acknowledge this on the spectrum from outright denial to acceptance to living into our challenges under God's grace.
    

The other reason I tell you this is to counteract the nonsense that is spread abroad among, particularly nefariously, some Christians who see this as a sign of deficiency (of faith, religious practice, or what have you) or of demonic influence. Don't get me wrong, the dark powers have free reign to influence persons and things to destruction, but Satan didn't give you bi-polar disorder or cause your marriage to break down. There are much more prosaic causes at the root of such things.
    

So, no, things are not well right now. But we have no justification to expect perfection in this life. Indeed as we read just beyond the text of today's Epistle, "Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator." (1 Peter 4:19) Yes, as unpleasant as it it, there is suffering in this life as a matter of course. But there is also faithfulness. There is good and bad, there is truth and there are lies, there is darkness and there is the light that shines in the darkness and which shall not be overcome by it.
    

In conclusion, I would offer you this as encouragement. Every time we gather here at St. Michael's we are gathering as the Church and we are making an offering, and it is not just bread and wine, prayer intentions or money, we are making an offering to God of our whole selves. And while we rightly desire to bring all the good and beautiful things as a thank offering, it is true that we will also bring those things that are not so nice to behold: worries, impatience, fear, anger, mistrust, grievances, brokenness, the list can go on. But that's okay too. Indeed that is the whole point. God does not ask for a part of  us, but the whole of us, good and bad. As I have said on Easter Sunday before, the veil of uncertainty, anguish and despair is now permanently torn away. For, you see, our God has the uncanny ability to turn that which is hideous and filled with death into something perfectly beautiful and life giving. And just as our Lord Jesus Christ passed through the Cross into the Resurrection, so are we, of our very nature as Christian people, called to do likewise. In the words of St. Gregory Nazianzen: "Let a man give all things to him who gave himself for us as the price of redemption and as the substitute of our guilt. Nothing so great, however, can be given in return, as the offering of ourselves, if we rightly understand this mystery, and if we, for his sake, become all things, whatsoever he for our sakes became."
    

Consider this as well, from John's Gospel: "In the world, ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." (16:33) And so, my friends, if we wish to heed His call and ascend with Him, this is the mind of Christ that we must have at all times, Who has indeed overcome the world.

some thoughts

 

In no particular order...

It's been a year and we are still dealing with the effects of the Covid-19 pandemic. I have personally received the first dose of one of the vaccines with no ill effects. This has been a hard year for us all, not helped by the ongoing economic perils and the political events surrounding the last general election. But that is all so much wind hot air that blows where it will and is then gone. Stop trying to grasp it with a desperation that is close to idolatry. Enough with conspiracy theories, sound bites, and the twin passions of shame and anger inflamed by social media. "Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful." (Luke 6:36) After all, He gives food, water, shelter, and life to those you hate. You can, likewise, at least stop trying to bludgeon your enemies with your own inflated sense of right(and righteous)ness.

Everything is changing, and it's scary. But so were the World Wars of the last century. So were the Napoleonic Wars. So were the upheavals of the Reformation, the Black Plague, the Mongol invasions. Heck, our ancestors were probably freaked out by fire the first time someone struck a flame too. If we have learned nothing else from modern physics, macroscopic appearances to the contrary, everything is in flux and relative to everything else. It's nothing new. We just have to adapt, more or less successfully, and believe that our stability lies not finally in this life but in the life to come. If you're like me, that is a huge ask. But, "(e)very good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." (James 1:17)

Come back to church. If you think virtual attendance is good enough, you're wrong. If you think this, having come from a sacramental/liturgical tradition, you're even more wrong. It's time to face up to the hidden shame, the narcissism, the delusion, the lack of seriousness that dwells within you. Way too many have had poor motives for attending church and refused to learn the faith and (even the content of!) the scriptures. Being satisfied with a primary school level of catechesis and a plate full of emotional responses, they have not grown in understanding. Do you approach your job in such a half-assed way? Your marriage and/or family life? If so, more's the shame.

Too many people in the Anglican continuum have held on simply because we are (or are perceived to be) "traditional" or "conservative". And they stop with that, making an idol out of their perceptions. Knowing neither the tradition nor what it is we are attempting to conserve, our churches are dying and our people are trapped in the morass of self-satisfaction.

We simply must do better. We have to reach those who have not been reached by the Gospel. We must not expend more wasted energy on the apathetic. We are not anti-science. We are not homophobic or misogynistic. We are not the Republican party at prayer. We cannot afford to define ourselves solely by what we are against. We need an educated clergy, an informed laity, a firm commitment to and understanding of a life of prayer and perpetual conversion. And we need to cease and desist from bowing down before and worshiping things that are not God.

Then, and only then, do we stand a chance of survival and growth into the 21st century and beyond.

Does anyone else actually care?

Sexagesima

 

I can readily admit that, in these dark days, I am full of anxiety and despair. Our culture continues its accelerated decline under the burdens of a pandemic, economic distress, a lack of seriousness in higher education, slogans and sound bites in the place of considered analysis, and the fact that so many will have been permanently seduced away from the Christian Church through the convenient appeal of virtual attendance even after it has been judged safe for all to return. But, on the other hand, this isn't really surprising given the widespread addictive power of the online world. People are constantly on their phones, as their creators intended.

My concern for each of you as well as for myself is to continually respond to the saving faith of Jesus Christ, to live a life of continual conversion and intellectual assent to the truth of the Scriptures, the Creeds, and the sacramental life of the Church that is able to speak to and resist the worst impulses of modern life. And I often feel like I am just screaming into the wind or banging my head against a brick wall. And what makes me feel that way more than all else are my own faults and failings. It is so very tempting to just give up.

In the face of that, I would ask you to consider this, from Chapter 4 of the Fellowship of the Ring: "'We still have our journey and our errand before us', answered Gandalf. 'We have no choice but to go on, or to return to Rivendell.' 'I wish I was back there', [Frodo] said. 'But how can I return without shame – unless there is indeed no other way, and we are already defeated?' 'You are right, Frodo,' said Gandalf: 'to go back is to admit defeat, and face worse defeat to come.'

In like manner do we read in John 6:68, "Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life." So we continue on, under grace, as best we are able. And thus today I would like to consider with you Ecclesiastes 11:1-6 which is one of the Old Testament lessons appointed for Evening Prayer today in the Lectionary Tables and which concerns itself with some details surrounding belief and charitable works.  

Having famously declared that all is vanity, the sacred author examines the failures of purely human wisdom and philosophy, the pursuit of pleasures and material goods for their own sake, and the false practice of religion. In his introductory remarks to this book for BlueLetterBible.org, the 20th century American Presbyterian Dr. J. Vernon Mcgee notes that:
 

Solomon pursued in this book every avenue, experience, and interest of man in this life to find satisfaction and fulfillment. Solomon as king had full freedom to carry on this experiment, and he was not hindered by financial or power limitations. He could go the limit in every direction. The result is “vanity” — emptiness. Frustration and dissatisfaction met him in every experiment. The conclusions are human, apart from the divine, made by the man under the sun. This is the ultimate end of man’s efforts     apart from God. (www.blueletterbible.org/Comm/mcgee_j_vernon/notes-outlines/ecclesiastes/ecclesiastes-outline.cfm)

Verse 2 of Chapter 11, which is one of the more difficult, reads: "Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth." St. Jerome's commentary on this verse tells us:
 

And in Ezekiel there are found seven or eight steps leading up to the temple. And after the 'ethical' Psalm, that is one hundred and eighteen, all the psalms are of fifteen steps by which we are first taught the law, and when the seventh is finished, we then climb to the Gospel through the 'eight steps. Therefore it is taught that we should believe with equal respect in each, the same for the old as for the new.  The Jews dedicated their seventh part, believing in the Sabbath, but did not dedicate that eighth, denying the resurrection on the day of the Lord.  On the other hand, heretics, Marcion and Manichaeus and all who rip up the ancient law with their savage mouths, dedicate their eighth part, taking up the Gospel.  But they do not save as holy the seventh, spurning the old law.  For we are not able to understand the worthy crucifixions, the worthy punishments already in mind, which are reserved for those who are moved to wickedness on earth, that is for the Jews and the heretics, and for those denying the other of the two....The Hebrews understand this passage in this way: keep both the Sabbath and the rite of circumcision, for if you do not adhere to these wickedness will come over you unexpectedly. (sites.google.com/site/aquinasstudybible/home/ecclesiastes/jerome-commentary-on-ecclesiastes)

This, obviously, needs some further unpacking. The "ethical psalm" that he refers to here is 119 in the Prayerbook which uses the Hebrew rather than the Greek numbering. The difference being due to whether you consider Psalm 10 as a part of Psalm 9 or standing on its own as a separate literary unit. Each portion of Psalm 119 (a meditation on the Law) is 8 verses long. And indeed the two subsequent Psalms, 120 and 121 in our numbering, consist of 7 and 8 verses respectively as St. Jerome says.

And then he talks more specifically about maintaining the balance of both Testaments. The one is useless without the other for Christian people. Of the two heretics he mentions, Marcionites reject the Old Testament and what they see as its separate "god". Practically speaking, consider this, we Anglicans are blessed with a robust Daily Office system that includes both the Psalms and the Old Testament as integral parts of our daily liturgical prayer. Yet, many (most?) people don't make use of them and many parishes can't (or won't) offer weekday worship. Clergy all too frequently do not preach on the Old Testament. At all. Frankly, you're lucky if the priest or deacon pays attention to the Epistle during his sermon. So there is some danger of a soft Marcionism creeping into our identity. Awareness, however, is a good first step to counteract this. Don't know where to begin? Well, as a cheap advertisement, when it is safe to do so we can resume our planned Bible Study reading Dr. John Walton's treatment of Genesis Chapter 1. Stay tuned!

The other important thing St. Jerome mentions is the devotion of the Jew to Sabbath and circumcision. Just so, the Christian must devote himself to the Lord's Day and baptismal identity. (N.B. Sunday is not the Christian Sabbath, it is the Eighth Day, the day of Resurrection and completion/ fulfillment, the Lord's Day, in Russian it is Воскресенье, literally "resurrection day" – our liturgical use of the Decalogue which mentions keeping holy the Sabbath is strictly allegorical on this point.)

What does all this have to do with my opening remarks? Well simply that we are being encouraged by Ecclesiastes to carry on with our God-inspired work, whether the fruits of reward are evident or not in this lifetime. We are further instructed by St. Jerome not to "stop short" in our belief, to stall out on the Seventh Day but to carry on to the Eighth Day, for as Psalm 118 declares: "This is the day which the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."(vs. 24)

And so I bid you good cheer and encouragement. These are dark days. People, already long troubled by the rootlessness and vacuity of modern life (whether aware of it or not), are struggling. A good dose of kindness and compassion, particularly to those who are seemingly unlovable and undeserving, will not go amiss. As Lent will be upon us soon, it is an opportunity once again to regroup, re-evaluate, take ownership of our besetting sins and bad habits, and trust in the Lord's mercy and the great hope that the Resurrection is real.

St. Paul the Apostle

Christianity as a general principle is on the receiving end of a lot of criticism, much of it self-inflicted. From our sad, millennium old theological disagreements which confuse and repulse, to the embrace of the excessive rationalism of the Enlightenment which sterilised the wondrous mystery of the faith into an overly moralistic, strictly regulated behavioural programme that turns Matt. 11:28-30 into a lie (“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”), to the contemporary substitution of the death bearing idols of politics and finance for the living Word of God.
    

One of the more recent victims of this long decline is the person and reputation of Paul the Apostle, whose conversion we celebrate tomorrow. He stands accused of everything from misogyny, homophobia, and antisemitism (deeply ironic, that) to helping prop up the institution of slavery. Now, I am in no way attempting to excuse any flaws and failings that he may or may not have possessed in this life. However, three things about such critiques: 1. It is surely impossible to have an accurate read of the state of anyone else's soul, particularly those who lived 2000 years ago. 2. Being acknowledged in the liturgy as belonging to the company of those whose sanctity is particularly noteworthy and fruitful for emulation does not guarantee that those who are lived a perfect, sinless life. People who would otherwise give no credence to any sort of "immaculate conception" seem to demand it of those they wish to take issue with. 3. There is little or nothing I can do by taking up the banner of condemnation against anyone anyway. If there is any change I have any reasonable hope of effecting, under grace, it is in my own heart. Do you want to change the world? Then the counsel of the abbot to his monks I read about two weeks ago holds: "Pay attention to yourself." It is neither your place nor within your power to deal out perfect justice tempered with perfect mercy. That is merely a delusion generated by the words of the serpent in the garden: "For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." (Gen. 3:5)
    

'John J. Kilgallen, professor of New Testament at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome, begins his America magazine essay, “A Complicated Apostle,” by admitting that “when one reads or hears what Paul wrote, one often meets a personality that can seem unpleasant or even antagonizing … appearing pompous, cantankerous, superior, harsh.” Experts agree: Paul can be a difficult fellow. He exhorts love for enemies, yet is not above wishing aloud that his enemies would castrate themselves (Galatians 5:12). He calls his addressees stupid (Galatians 3:1)....Even Paul’s biggest booster, the author of Acts, introduces Paul to the reader as an accessory to a lynching (Acts 7:60). So we may well ask: why should we take seriously, let alone read reverently, this vituperative, hallucinating, conflict-ridden polemicist who was at the same time both a passionate disciple of a man he never followed and a passionate enemy, by his own admission, of those who did? Why hasn’t the world written him off as a fulminating, apocalyptic crackpot? And why has a worldwide Christian communion been celebrating his birthday?' (https://www.pbs.org/wnet/ religionandethics/2009/08/05/august-5-2009-the-real-paul/3839/)
    

Certainly this article is guilty of taking certain things out of context, operating under a lens of heightened suspicion that leaves no room for genuine conversion, and not acting on the three principles I enumerated above (not that there would be any expectation of that happening anyway). But I think the question at the end remains a sound one, one that can be asked of any theologian, indeed any believer. Why should we attend to what you think?
    

Fr. Kenneth Baker, a Jesuit priest writing in Homiletic and Pastoral Review, tells us why in a summary of the essence of St. Paul's theology: "Christ is the key to St. Paul.  His theology is Christocentric.  The Gospel according to St. Paul is that the Son of God became man in Jesus Christ, in order to reconcile all mankind to God the Father, by his life, passion, death and resurrection.  For Paul, Christ is the glorified Christ, now reigning gloriously in heaven, and seated at the right hand of the Father. Here are some of the main points in the theology of St. Paul: 1) Because of the sin of Adam, and each one’s personal sins, all men are sinners and in need of redemption (Rom. 3:23; 5:12-21).  2) In order to save mankind, God sent his Son into the world, born of a woman (Rom. 4:4), to make a fitting satisfaction for sin.  3) That Son is Jesus Christ, who communicates his grace, and justifies all who believe in him, and are baptized.  4) The grace of Christ includes the sending of the Holy Spirit, which constitutes the believer as an adopted child of God, a member of the body of Christ, and an heir of eternal life.  5) Christ Jesus is the fulfillment of all the prophecies of the Old Testament, and has established a New Covenant to replace that of Moses; therefore, Christians are not bound by the ceremonial and dietary laws, and circumcision, contained in the Law of Moses.  This means that one does not have to become a Jew in order to be a Christian.  This insight of Paul made Christianity into a religion open to all peoples (see 1 Tim. 2:4)." (https://www.hprweb.com/2012/09/ the-theology-of-st-paul/)
    

If you demand a priori perfection of everyone you will live a very lonely life. It is a fact that the perfect Word of God is entrusted to imperfect persons in an imperfect church which both has and will continue to sully it in various ways by its imperfect witness. The 6th cent. A.D. Chinese Buddhist Sang T'san wrote:
    

    One thing, all things:
    move among and intermingle
    without distraction.
    To live in this realisation
    is to be without anxiety
    about non-perfection.

In our present context there are two things that can speak to us as Christian people from this insight. One is that God was incarnate in time and space, "And was made man" as we confess in the Nicene Creed'; the "one thing" (perfect divinity) among "all things" (our scattered humanity). And that very act, given our own imperfection and labour under the auspices of Original Sin, means that things, even post-Easter are going to be messy, marked by failures as well as successes because the resurrection has not displaced free will. True love is not to say, "let me do everything for you". Rather, true love is "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." (Jn. 3:16) Keeping this always at the forefront, and having confidence in the two primary truths of the faith that are always true, regardless of what anyone says: Christ is Risen and the Kingdom of God is come among us, will help to banish the "two-storey" thinking identified by Fr. Stephen Freeman and which pervades so much of modern thought and gives rise to so much religious anxiety, living with and in the midst of imperfection. Strive, then, to be without anxiety. For the Kingdom of God is come, in the manner that it has, whether we like it or not.
    

Finally, hoping that I have shed some light on how we can realistically approach and be in company with St. Paul, let me close with some thoughts by Bishop Tom Wright, formerly of Durham and one of the proponents of the "New Perspectives on Paul" school of theology (which, as an aside, is worth looking into, even if you find yourself disagreeing with some of their particulars):

[T]he claim [of Jesus' Messiahship] only makes sense as the validation of everything that first-century Jews like Paul had held dear (the ancient purposes and promises, the long covenantal narrative). The symbols of Jewish identity themselves – circumcision, Sabbath, food laws – were set aside, not because they were irrelevant or ‘legalistic’ but because they were forward-looking signposts to the reality which had now been unveiled. To cling to the signposts is to imply that you have not yet     arrived at the reality; but the point of Paul’s gospel was that the reality had dawned in the events concerning Jesus. In him, the promises to Abraham had been fulfilled; Adam and Eve had been rescued, and with that new creation had been launched; Israel’s exile was over and ‘Israel’ itself had been transformed, as so many scriptures had promised, into a new worldwide family. This story, with this fulfilment, is the necessary substructure for Paul’s mission; and, I would submit, for ours as well. Fresh teaching in all these areas is urgently needed if we are to understand our shared mission as both the announcement of Jesus as the crucified and risen Lord, demanding the personal response of obedient faith, and the inauguration of new creation, with signs of healing and hope pointing forward to the eventual renewal of the whole cosmos. (ntwrightpage.com/2017/09/27/learning-from-paul-together).
 

And that, that, is why we should listen to what St. Paul has to say. It's not about him. It's not about you or I as 'rugged individuals' anxiously hoping to save ourselves by 'fixing' that which surrounds us. It's about the proclamation of the glory of God, the promise of things to come. It's because of this that we value these Epistles, this 'paperwork', amongst all the other documents we acquire in our lives as so clearly illustrated last week.

Glory to God for all things. Amen.