Poetics

Sunday, December 27, 2020

St. John, Apostle & Evangelist

 

Aside from Christmas and Easter, being accorded the honour and privilege of preaching today is one of the greatest occasions of the Church year. For it is the feast of St. John the Evangelist, to whom it was given the distinction that the "highest" theology in the New Testament appears under his name. On this great day, in this great season, under the mercy of the great goodness of the living God, let us then consider some portion of that revelation which was given to him to understand.
    

At Morning Prayer today, the first lesson from Exodus 33 reads, in part, "And [Moses] said, I beseech thee, shew me thy glory. And [God] said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee; and I will be gracious, and will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy." (vv. 18-19) By the time we arrive at this point in the narrative, the Israelites have been delivered from their slavery in Egypt, arrived at Mt. Sinai, received the Law and the ceremonial instructions for the tabernacle liturgy, broken the Law and received it again at Moses' intercession. It has been said that Exodus "begins in gloom and ends in glory" (cf. Dr. J. Vernon McGee) And it is the same for us. The birth of Jesus is immediately preceded by the gloom of many long years of theological and moral darkness under the cloud of the Adamic transgression and the heavy weight of the Pharisaical exegesis of Moses. Afterward, that very graciousness has come among us in a mysterious and, to some, unlooked for way. Mercy has indeed been shown after the perfect manner of the Divine solicitude, now not just to historic Israel under the covenant granted to Moses, but that original blessing given to Abraham in Genesis 12:2-3 is now restored and given to Jew and Gentile alike, "And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed."
    

Then we come to Christmas Day itself, wherein the Gospel lesson proclaims, ""In the beginning was the Word, and the word was with God, and the Word was God....In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not." (Jn. 1:1, 4-5) The great poet John Milton, author of Paradise Lost, opens his work On the Morning of Christ's Nativity thusly:

This is the Month, and this the happy morn
 Wherein the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,
 Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,
 Our great redemption from above did bring;
 For so the holy sages once did sing,
That he our deadly forfeit should release,
 And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
 And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,
Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table,
 To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,
 He laid aside; and here with us to be,
Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day,
 And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay.
 

The Light of the world is indeed come, puts the darkness to flight, and sustains the world in being until the second and glorious coming wherein, according to 1 Cor. 15:28 "...all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may be all in all." And yet it remains for the time being that there are many things that remain mysterious, not yet "subdued" to our limited, rational minds. We believe and confess that the Divine nature is one in essence, subsisting in three persons. We profess that Jesus is "very God of very God...And was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, And was made man". We are taught that, in order to be truly alive, we must die to ourselves. "Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?" (Rom. 6:3)
   

Bishop Lancelot Andrewes, preaching the Nativity sermon before King James I in 1607, says:

    Of God, the prophet Esay saith, Vere Deus absconditus es tu; God is of Himself a mystery, and hidden; and that which is strange, hidden with light which will make any eyes past looking on Him. But a hidden God our nature did not endure. Will you hear them speak it plainly? Fac nobis deus, makes us visible gods who may go before us, and we see them. Mystical, invisible gods we cannot skill of. This we would have; God to be manifested. Why then, God is manifested....Were it not a proud desire and     full of presumption, to wish things so remote to come together? to wish that the Deity in the flesh may be made manifest? Yet we see wished it was, by one in a place in reasonable express terms, O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! That is, that He might be manifested in the flesh! O that He might be! and so He was. Not only manifest at all; that is great; but manifest in the flesh; that is greater. For if gold mixed though it be with silver is abased by it, what if it be mixed     with the rust of iron or dross of lead? This must needs be great in itself, but greater with us; with us especially that make such ado at any though never so little disparagement; and that if any, though not much our inferior, be ranked with us, take ourselves mightily wrong. We cannot choose but hold this mystery for great, and say with St. Augustine, [37/38] Deus; quid gloriosius? Caro; quid vilius? Deus in carne; quid mirabilius? God; what more glorious? flesh; what more base? Then, God in the flesh; what more marvellous?


"God in the flesh; what more marvellous?" Indeed it is so. And it has been anticipated down through the course of salvation history, has come to fruition in time in a small and insignificant corner of the Roman Empire, has born fruit, been misunderstood and corrupted in the hearts of many throughout the past two millenia, but nevertheless remains true and accessible to all who would be saved. As we heard in today's Epistle, "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life" (1 Jn. 1:1)
    

And so, during the progress of this Christmas season, whether in covenant and mystery, whether in the joys or sorrows of everyday life, whether in knowledge or ignorance, whether in holiness or in the struggles that beset us, let our prayer and remembrance always be: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people" (Lk. 1:68)

Saturday, October 31, 2020

All Saints/All Souls

 

The first of these is easy to account for. All Saints Day has had proper texts in the Prayer Book from the beginning in 1549 so, obviously, the Reformers had no objections to it. Secondly, there are countless numbers who have lived especially holy lives - so many that there isn’t room on the Church calendar to accommodate them all in any practical way. Besides, who knows how many saints there are whose virtue has escaped the public notice of the Church? So we have a day to collectively celebrate them all and to thank God for the action of His grace in our lives.
    

But, it is not simply "their" day. It is ours too. For we are numbered among the saints and, yes, I purposely use the present tense 'are numbered' with good reason, it is Biblical and factual. Romans 1:7 says, "To all that be in Rome, beloved of God, called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ." In Colossians 1:1-2 it is written: "Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timotheus our brother, To the saints and faithful brethren in Christ which are at Colosse: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ."
    

Rather than just being limited to a list of those formally enrolled (or "canonised") by the Church, all faithful Christian believers everywhere are, and are called to be, saints. To this great dignity, we can only respond with the Apostle John: "See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are." (1 John 3:1a)
    

Yet I know that sounds like a tall, nigh on insurmountable task. And it is, were we simply left to scratch around in the dust of our own devices. But...the God of all grace has and continues to supply the will to "all that believe in Him" to live into the saving faith He has given us and to show it forth in increasing knowledge and good works. Think of it this way, as it is directly akin to that other seemingly impossible directive in Matt. 5:48, "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." The Rev. William Barclay, in his 'Daily Study Bible', gives us some helpful advice for interpreting and receiving this piece of the Good News. "On the face of it that sounds like a commandment which cannot possibly have anything to do with us. There is none of us who would even faintly connect ourselves with perfection....This word [perfect]  is often used in Greek in a very special way. It has nothing to do with what we might call abstract, philosophical, metaphysical perfection....A man who has reached his full-grown stature is [perfect] in contradistinction to a half-grown lad. A student who has reached a mature knowledge of his subject is [perfect] as opposed to a learner who is just beginning, and who as yet has no grasp of things....It is the whole teaching of the Bible that we realise our manhood only by becoming godlike. The one thing which makes us like God is the love which never ceases to care for men, no matter what men do to it. We realise our manhood, we enter upon Christian perfection, when we learn to forgive as God forgives, and to love as God loves." (The Gospel of Matthew vol. 1, 177-178) That too, then, is how we live into our call to sainthood.
    

Here's where things start getting a little more interesting. The keeping of All Souls Day and some of the attendant customs, ceremonies, and theology surrounding it have been (and continue to be) subject to no little amount of controversy. At its heart, I believe the disputation rests on the question of the purpose of prayer and supplication for those already deceased. As a further subset to that, it seems to me that there is a generic misunderstanding of the nature of what prayer itself actually is. Let me boil this down as simply as I can. Whether you come from a traditional. liturgical church like our own, an Evangelical mega church, an underground fellowship officially persecuted by the local government in some foreign land, or what have you, we all pray. If someone is sick, we pray for them. When we are inspired by the grace of God, we thank Him in prayer. There is a cause and effect relationality to all of our thanks and praise. Need something next week? Ask for it today. Thankful for blessings received yesterday? Be sure to thank the One Who gave them tomorrow. Thus, our prayers are bound up with our existence in time. As this is the only mode of existence we have experienced, it works for us. But what about God’s perspective? In heaven there is no time. God is always present. He wasn’t kidding when He revealed His name to Moses as “I AM” (as opposed to “I WAS” or “I WILL BE”). That means that our next week is present in the mind of God right now and always will be. He sees the future because there is no future for Him. So when we petition Him, we are not seeking to change His mind or alter foreseen events because that is impossible. The gift of prayer, then, is for our benefit. It is ultimately an act expressive of faith, hope and charity. To keep on with the example of prayers of petition, when we ask for needs, we are proclaiming our belief in God. We are living out our grace-infused hope that what He has proposed for our faith is true. We are doing a work of charity by recognizing and responding to the needs of others. In short, we are keeping in communion with them. When we pray, we are acknowledging the Divine ordering of the universe [- no more, and yet no less than that].
    

Keeping all that in mind, consider this, from 2 Maccabees 12: "[The] noble Judas exhorted the people to keep themselves from sin, forsomuch as they saw before their eyes the things that came to pass for the sins of those that were slain. And when he had made a gathering throughout the company to the sum of two thousand drachms of silver, he sent it to Jerusalem to offer a sin offering, doing therein very well and honestly, in that he was mindful of the resurrection: For if he had not hoped that they that were slain should have risen again, it had been superfluous and vain to pray for the dead." (vs. 42b-44) The context here is that Judas Maccabeus and his men went to engage the governor of Idumea in battle and some of the Jews of Jerusalem were killed and later discovered to have things consecrated to the gods of the Jamnites on their persons. Verse 40 attributes this as the cause of their deaths. Much more significantly, Judas finances a sin offering for these dead, demonstrating his belief in the future bodily resurrection of the dead as well as the charity of praying for their repose. This is a not insignificant instance in the Scriptures and though it is from the Apocrypha - and thus out of bounds for establishing doctrine, per the 6th of the Articles of Religion - it provides a precedent for our very human instinct to remember the dead. Again, as the Articles put it, we can read it for “example of life and instruction of manners”. And thus it leads naturally and directly into our discussion of All Souls Day
    

Consider what St. Augustine has to say in his work "On the Care of the Dead" wherein he has been discussing what the deceased may or may not continue to be aware of that happens on earth: "Let us not think that anything reaches those deceased for whom we care except what we solemnly pray with our sacrifices – either at the altar, or by our prayers, or by our alms. Yet this does not benefit all for whom such things are done, but only those who prepared for such benefit while they were yet alive. But since we cannot determine who these people are, we ought to do them for all those who have been reborn, so that we do not overlook anyone whom these benefits can and should reach. For it is better to do these things uselessly for people whom they will neither help nor hinder, than to not do them for someone whom they could help." (www.fourthcentury.com/on-the-care-of-the-dead) So, employing here the logic of Pascal's Wager, St. Augustine says it is better to do something potentially superfluous than to neglect something beneficial. Praying for the dead, then, places us in good company with our forebears in faith.
   

 In conclusion, whether we are considering the saints here on earth gathered in the visible body of the Church, those who died and await the fulfilment of their hope in Christ, or those who have come to their reward in heaven, all have in common the possession of the wedding-garment in today's [Trinity XX] Gospel. What that garment might be is described by the Rev. John Boys, sometime Dean of Canterbury during the reign of James I & VI: "The wedding garment, as Origin thinks, is Christ: or as Eusebius, the new man: or as Jerome, observing of the commandments of Christ: or as a pure conversation: or as others, an upright heart, coming to the marriage rather out of duty, than for a dinner: or as others, charity: or as Gregory, grace: or as others, faith: or as others, regeneration: consist in faith and repentance All which upon the point are the very same: so that (as our divines observe) the question is idle whether faith or godly life be this garment, because good works always proceed from faith, and faith always showeth itself by good works." (The Works of John Boys, 758)
    

And that is the hallmark of which we are reminded by these past liturgical days and by which we are called to order our lives aright: in good works proceeding from faith and that faith showing itself in our God-enabled works.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

St. Luke's Day

 

"There is something peculiar in St. Luke's day, something calm and soothing connected with it; it occurs at a time when summer often revives a little before it finally goes, and sheds on us a parting smile; there is something in St. Luke's own character which speaks of healing to both body and mind, like the good Samaritan, into the wounds of both pouring oil and wine. We connect his Gospel especially with the Atonement, and the mercies of God to penitents;...To these we may add the personal history of St. Luke himself. In the service for the day he is brought before us as the faithful companion of St. Paul in the last view we obtain of the great Apostle....The recurrence therefore of this day is like the last gleaming of the year itself at this season, when a serene and bright interval precedes its close." (Isaac Williams, Sermon LXXXVIII)


Thus do we hear in a sermon by Isaac Williams, a 19th century English clergyman, student of John Keble (who is famous for his cycle of poems 'The Christian Year' about the themes of the Sundays and Red Letter Days as they occur in the Prayerbook) and member of the Oxford movement. Inasmuch as he mentions "atonement" as a central theme of Luke's Gospel, I think it is important that we spend a bit of time examining the Biblical concept of Atonement, particularly as it manifests in the observance of Yom Kippur, which began this year on the eve of September 27th. Leviticus chapter 16 gives us the necessary details of the observance of the Day of Atonement, beginning with a reminder of the deaths of the two sons of Aaron who were consumed by fire for making an unauthorised offering of incense. As a consequence of this (and it matters not whether they were literally consumed by "fire from the Lord"), Aaron is enjoined to observe the regulations of the law with care and exactitude and not to treat the divine ordinances with casual contempt. Among the offerings, he is to take two goats. One will supply blood to be sprinkled within the holy of holies while the other will serve as the 'scapegoat'. Per verses 21 and 22: "And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away by the hand of a fit man into the wilderness: And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited: and he shall let go the goat into the wilderness."


That the goat is sent bearing iniquity into an uninhabited land can be seen as an illustration of what later philosophers such as St. Augustine would call the non-being of evil. Bear with me here. He says: "All of nature, therefore, is good, since the Creator of all nature is supremely good. But nature is not supremely and immutably good as is the Creator of it. Thus the good in created things can be diminished and augmented. For good to be diminished is evil; still, however much it is diminished, something must remain of its original nature as long as it exists at all. For no matter what kind or however insignificant a thing may be, the good which is its 'nature' cannot be destroyed without the thing itself being destroyed....Whenever a thing is consumed by corruption, not even the corruption remains, for it is nothing in itself, having no subsistent being in which to exist. From this it follows that there is nothing to be called evil if there is nothing good." (Augustine, Enchiridion, chapter 4)


So the sins of the community are sent away into a place that is perfectly identified with their pure nature of non-being, or "uninhabited-ness" if you will, which is a good lesson to us all as to both the interior dispositions which our sins create both within the self and within others (for everything we do has an impact on those around us, no matter how imperceptible) and their ultimate consequences should there be no acceptance of the insurmountable mercy of the Cross and its perfect ability to convert destructive non-being into the very fountain of all life-giving grace.


Something else to take away from the Day of Atonement is this. As the first day of the seventh Hebrew month marks the beginning of the religious new year, the celebrations of Yom Kippur on the tenth day are designed to help make a new beginning by asking forgiveness amongst one's acquaintances, fasting, not bathing and participating in extra prayers at the synagogue. On the eve of the feast, the Torah scrolls are removed from the 'Ark' and the cantor sings (in Aramaic) the Kol Nidre which translates as: "All personal vows we are likely to make, all personal oaths and pledges we are likely to take between this Yom Kippur and the next Yom Kippur, we publicly renounce. Let them all be relinquished and abandoned, null and void, neither firm nor established. Let our personal vows, pledges and oaths be considered neither vows nor pledges nor oaths."


This can seem a little unsettling when taken out of context. But, from the Jewish Encyclopedia: "The tendency to make vows was so strong in ancient Israel that the Pentateuchal code found it necessary to protest against the excessive estimate of the religious value of such obligations (Deut. 23:23). Rash and frequent vows inevitably involved in difficulties many who had made them, and thus evoked an earnest desire for dispensation from such responsibilities....The "Kol Nidre' was thus evidently developed from the longing for a clear conscience on the part of those seeking reconciliation with God." This problem of rash and excessive oath taking is also recognised in the New Testament. From St. Matthew's Gospel: "But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King....Let what you say be simply 'Yes' or 'No'; anything more than this comes from the Evil One." (5: 34-35, 37) As indeed Jesus Christ here overcomes the need for swearing an oath and rather commands those who follow Him to simply tell the truth and to follow through on it, He also, being the perfect high priest surpasses the blood offerings in the Temple once for all and purifies all who believe in Him by the shedding of His own blood. There is no more need for a continuous purifying that is only symbolic. The sign-value of its usefulness is at an end. Calvary is thus both the last and the greatest Day of Atonement. The exclamation of the crowd gathered in Pilate's courtyard was even more true than they realised at the time: "His blood be on us, and on our children." And indeed that is the case for all who are in Christ.


There are some unique insights regarding this offering that are only to be found in St.Luke's narrative. At the institution of the Eucharist, this Gospel simply states: "This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you." The eschatological addition of "and for many", present in the other synoptic Gospels is absent here. Perhaps this is Luke the Physician emphasising the present, healing and reconciling quality of receiving communion for each individual in the moment as a personal reminder of both the Upper Room and Calvary, rather than choosing to emphasise the availablility of this self-same grace to generations of believers to come.


And, speaking of Luke as physician, the collect provided in the Church of England's Book of Common Prayer differs from the American version thusly: "Almighty God, who calledst Luke the physician, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist, and Physician of the soul; may it please thee, that by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed, through the merits of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."


So, from the perspective of providing "wholesome medicines", he gives us the (unique to him) accounts of the Good Samaritan - wherein a broken body is treated and given time to heal- and the Prodigal Son - wherein a broken relationship is restored both by sincere repentance and unconditional love always on the lookout for a first inkling of desire to receive it.* And so here is revealed something else of the qualities of the living God that were (perhaps) not as accessible or explicit in the purifying rites of the Old Covenant.

It is both consistent and reasonable that these things, together with all else that is presented to us in the Gospels and reflected upon in the Epistles and the Apocalypse (and as they are cognizant of and in harmony with the traditions of the Old Testament, to be seen there as well), are meant to give us as complete a picture as we can comprehend of the Atoning work of Jesus Christ in His person and in His sacrificial death and Resurrection.


And so there is a lot to come to terms with here on this feast of the Evangelist St. Luke. But there is really only one critical thing to remember when thinking about the Atonement:

"And he arose and came to his father. 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." (Lk. 15: 20) 

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*[The father (of the parable) himself, having inculcated the 'first cause' of this desire by his very nature (the example and care he gives his children as he raised them and into the 'present' day of the parable), models the great gift of God the Father in giving to us the even the desire to be saved and to receive his Son, thereby re-confirming the Church's opposition to the "diy" heresy of semi-Pelagianism wherein we would be able to be the source of our will to be saved. In saying this, it does not mean that our will to be saved is not free, rather that it is does not originate (is not capable of originating, cf. Original Sin) within our own will, but supplied (principally) through the perfect will of God the Father by the movement of God the Holy Ghost.]

Sunday, June 14, 2020

Trinity I


Whereas last Sunday we celebrated the glories and perfection of the Eternal Trinity, today we take a step back and look at the sins and inclinations of mortal man. It makes for quite a contrast. And I think that is a good and beneficial thing. Our post-lapsarian [i.e. our life after the commission (or fall or lapse, hence the expression) of Original Sin] existence is the key to understanding Christian anthropology. Without this common, received, understanding, the task of teaching and passing on the faith becomes exponentially more difficult. Thus the Lectionary has a noticeable evangelistic function as well as its practical uses in that it allows us to return to this essential theme and its consequences repeatedly in the principle context in which the Scriptures are to be encountered, proclaimed, and expounded – public, liturgical worship.


Bearing that in mind, within the bounds of the 1st Lesson for Morning Prayer and the Epistle and Gospel appointed for today, we encounter some teaching and exhortation on discernment and mindfulness in how we approach what we say, what we think, and what we do.

Firstly, consider this from Jeremiah 23:32, "Behold, I am against them that prophesy false dreams, saith the Lord, and do tell them, and cause my people to err by their lies, and by their lightness; yet I sent them not, nor commanded them: therefore they shall not profit this people at all, saith the Lord." Let's be honest, we like to lie. And there are many reasons why: to avoid blame and/or consequences, to deflect our own sense of shame, to gain social or economic advantage, because it is expected ('everyone else does it'), and I'm sure a myriad of other excuses can be proffered. It seems easy, and there is a certain thrill in 'getting away with it'. But it is problematic not simply because it is unethical and immoral, though that is certainly the case. In his novel "Love in the Ruins" (which is curiously apposite for our current situation), Walker Percy has his main character (Dr. Thom More) reflect on the nature of lying: "When I left the hospital, I resolved not to lie. Lying cuts one off. Lying to someone is like blindfolding him: you cannot see the other's eyes to see how he sees you and so you do not know how it stands with yourself." And in that cutting off of the self, we express (however subconsciously) a desire to remove ourselves from the communion of the Church, from the communion of the saints, and from our participation in the life to come. We take up the example of the tempter in Genesis rather than the Saviour in the Gospels. "But let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No, 'No.' For whatever is more than these is from the evil one." (Matt. 5:37, NKJV)

Secondly, "If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?" (1 Jn. 4:20) It's pretty rare that any of us would come right out and say "I hate you" to anyone. But it is awfully easy to accuse, to willfully misunderstand, to think that we have a complete perspective and have nothing further to learn. In other words, I may not say I hate you, but I sure think it. I, like most of us, have experienced all of these things. In the 14 years since I have been ordained, and in the 10 years in and out of formation programs before that, I have been accused of various heresies, yelled at by a parishioner about a matter of which she had insufficient knowledge, been told I needed to see a psychiatrist to sort out my "head/heart issues", told I was not open to the formation program, asked to place my trust in people who proved themselves (quite publicly and as a matter of record) to be untrustworthy, and the list can go on. Let me state quite clearly, I am not seeking pity or to exonerate myself. I am a weak and sinful man. I don't know everything. I have to live with mental health issues. It comes natural to me to remember and hold onto resentments. No, I don't tick off most of the boxes that have been placed on the list of the "perfect priest". And, maybe they were right who thought I shouldn't have been ordained. I am not a corporate man, I don't follow the crowd, I dislike coffee hour, I am aware of my difficulties. But when I stand at the altar and look at the cross, I am reminded that if we were not so deeply broken, there would have been no such need for a deeply radical atonement to be made for us. And yet the fact remains that precisely such an atonement has been made. And that is why I hope and keep struggling to the end.

Lately, I have been thinking much about the petition in the Lord's Prayer "as we forgive those who trespass against us". In Greek these 'trespassers' are opheiletēs (i.e. debtors, those who owe an obligation). It is deeply, and sadly, ironic that it comes so naturally to us to accuse others of not meeting their obligations and refuse to see that we ourselves are in the same boat. (cf. Matt. 18: 21-35) Perhaps now is a good season for practicing a deeper self-examination for us all and of seeking forgiveness where it needs to be sought and applied.

As to what we do, "And it came to pass, that [Lazarus] died and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, as was buried; And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom." (Luke 17: 22-23). Fr. Stephen Freeman, commenting on this parable, has said: "The point of the parable is found in its end: 'If they have not listened to Moses and the Prophets, neither would they listen to someone even if he came back from the dead.' It is not a parable about the topography of the after-life, but a comment about our present life and our unwillingness to hear the gospel....If you want to know the way to go – if you want to know how things work – then you have to know the heart of God. You have to know God himself. And this is all that we need to know for life here – and life hereafter. God Himself is our heaven – and in the teachings of the Fathers – God Himself is our hell – for hell is nothing other than our self-imposed refusal to accept the love of God. It is that refusal that brings its own torment. If we have the eyes to see – we are already traveling the roads of heaven and hell – already dwelling in the bosom of Abraham or in the torments of Hades. The geography of that journey is the geography of love and mercy, kindness and forgiveness – or contrary – hatred and judgment, violence, self-conceit, slander and calumny." (blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2 godforallthings/2011/10/19/the-geography-of-heaven-and-hell/)

Just to add a quick addendum to this analysis to bring it in contact with my main point, the trouble for the rich man is again a willed cutting off of common cause (i.e. communion) with Lazarus. His wealth and position, giving him a sense of security, allowed him to ignore that which cannot be set aside, the encounter with humanity itself.

As a side note, I would counsel you specifically that, with regard to the present social upheavals in our country, while the politics themselves are ontologically irrelevant, the people involved are not, even those you disagree with.

In conclusion, Trinity Sunday and that immediately following are two great pillars exemplifying a reliable, orthodox Christian anthropology. As it is demonstrated in the theology and worship of the Church, so must it specifically leave its mark in the lives of individual believers, and that as manifested in what we say, what we think, and what we do. "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." (1 Jn. 4:10-11)

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Mother's Day

Our Lady of Kazan
This past Sunday the civil calendar reminded us to consider motherhood. The church calendar also provides (at least) two occasions to do so in the Springtime – "Mothering Sunday" on the IV Sunday in Lent and also the Annunciation on March 25th. Having something to say about family life, then, will be my theme for today.
  
Not having been called to marry and sire children, it certainly isn't my place to expatiate on the virtues and duties of spouses and parents devoid of any practical experience. What I can speak to, however, is the experience of being raised in a family. I was fortunate as a child to have a stable home life. My parents seemed to strike a good balance between being either too strict or too lenient. Home was a safe place and, while I enjoyed staying over with friends, the experience was inevitably a "foreign" one where the rules, expectations, and scheduling were not what I was accustomed to and I was always glad to be back home among that which was familiar.
  
And, ideally, that is a function also of the Church, either in its larger geographical or local (parochial) manifestations. I think that is one of the major reasons why the ecclesial scandals and upheavals of the 20th and 21st centuries that we have and will continue to live through are so difficult to deal with. A place to belong that ought to be "safe" (i.e. dependable in terms of its theology, morality, and avoidance of criminal behaviour) has, in too many instances, betrayed the trust that was expected, nay required, of it. And this is something that transcends denominational lines and "political" labels (a conservative vs. liberal praxis of Christianity) and wounds the entire body of Christ.
  
Inasmuch as the familial has been betrayed by its own, it can also be properly healed only through its own. And I think that is true both of the 'meta-issues' that confront us as well as those lesser things we are called to deal with personally in our daily lives. In his "Dialogue with Trypho" [written sometime in the latter half of the 2nd Century A.D.], Justin Martyr says: "He became man by the Virgin, in order that the disobedience which proceeded from the serpent might receive its destruction in the same manner in which it derived its origin. For Eve, who was a virgin and undefiled, having conceived the word of the serpent, brought forth disobedience and death. But the Virgin Mary received faith and joy, when the angel Gabriel announced the good tidings to her that the Spirit of the Lord would come upon her, and the power of the Highest would overshadow her: wherefore also the Holy Thing begotten of her is the Son of God: and she replied, 'Be it unto me according to thy word.' And by her has He been born, to whom we have proved so many scriptures refer, and by whom God destroys both the serpent and those angels and men who are like him; but works deliverance from death to those who repent of their wickedness and believe upon Him." [en.m.wikisource.org/wiki/ Ante-Nicene_Christian_Library/Dialogue_with_Tryph]
  
So I think it is appropriate to also consider Mary on this Mother's Day. And while it was, and is, certainly a right consequence of the Reformation to put a halt to the excessive and frankly idolatrous practices that had arisen surrounding the cultus of the saints, I think there is an equal danger in underemphasising the significance of who she is and of what great dignity she was called to in the operation of the economy of redemption. The Scriptures both provide sufficient testimony to her as an exemplar of faith (thus refuting any need for further, "clarifying" doctrines as taught by the Church of Rome) and give us evidence of her participation, along with that of the other women disciples, in the life of both the pre and post-Resurrection fledgling Church (thus indicating that there are proper roles for both sexes, and that one ought not to impinge on the other).
  
As to the supposed "silence" of the canonical Scriptures, John Henry Newman in a sermon on the Annunciation preached at St. Mary's Oxford (Church of England), offers a two-fold response. The first is that the Scriptures are written to the glory of God, not to the honour of this or that saint, praiseworthy and notable though they may be. As to the second:

"But, further, the more we consider who St. Mary was, the more dangerous will such knowledge of her appear to be. Other saints are but influenced or inspired by Christ, and made partakers of Him mystically. But, as to St. Mary, Christ derived His manhood from her, and so had an especial unity of nature with her; and this wondrous relationship between God and man it is perhaps impossible for us to dwell much upon without some perversion of feeling. For, truly, she is raised above the condition of sinful beings, though by nature a sinner; she is brought near to God, yet is but a creature, and seems to lack her fitting place in our limited understandings, neither too high nor too low. We cannot combine, in our thought of her, all we should ascribe with all we should withhold. Hence, following the example of Scripture, we had better only think of her with and for her Son, never separating her from Him, but using her name as a memorial of His great condescension in stooping from heaven, and not 'abhorring the Virgin's womb.' And this is the rule of our own Church, which has set apart only such Festivals in honour of Blessed Mary, as may also be Festivals in honour of our Lord; the Purification commemorating His presentation in the Temple, and the Annunciation commemorating His Incarnation. And, with this caution, the thought of her may be made most profitable to our faith; for nothing is so calculated to impress on our minds that Christ is really partaker of our nature, and in all respects man, save sin only, as to associate Him with the thought of her, by whose ministration He became our brother." [Newman, Parochial and Plain Sermons: The Reverence Due to the Virgin Mary, Ignatius Press, p. 313]

Such 'silence' as this is also appropriate to us in our Christian profession. We had only better be thought of with and for God's Son – our Lord Jesus Christ. "And ye are Christ's; and Christ is God's." (1 Cor. 3:23)
  
And so, on this Mother's Day, I commend to you the example of Mary. I offer my blessing, encouragement, and gratitude to those who have undertaken the needful and honourable estate of parenthood. After the manner of Justin Martyr's “Dialogue” above, just as many social and personal problems can be germinated in a troubled family context, so can they be avoided and/or dealt with in a healthy family context. And finally, let us ever keep to the forefront of our remembrance and living that all may "know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness of God." (Eph. 3:19)

Saturday, April 18, 2020

It's a sabbath...like it or not


Gen. 2:2-3"And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made."


Here in April of the year 2020, a great portion of the planet is under some type of quarantine due to the outbreak of what has been called the coronavirus. While it is not as deadly as some other pestilences that have occurred throughout human history, it is certainly very contagious and, hence, some otherwise extreme precautions have been called for and, indeed, sensibly mandated.

Among the great hallmarks of contemporary economic theory and practice in the developed world is the two-fold principle of 'produce and consume at all costs'. Some of the progeny of this relentless system include targeted advertising to our personal communication devices that we keep powered on most of the time in order to keep up to date with information (God forbid that we 'miss out on something' - thus feeding into the narrative that we have an overriding imperative to consume, be it information or durable goods and investments), an increasing lack of well-defined boundaries between work and personal life, and few reliable social security structures to fall back on in case of illness, injury, or economic downturn that prevents being able to work. The system thus forces those, especially among the poor and not-well-connected, to continue to eek out a subsistence living while sick themselves and potentially contaminating a large swath of other people with whatever ailment they are carrying. Such a situation is not ultimately sustainable and, whether by virtue of concerted public action or uncontrollable compulsion, will be interrupted.

And now it has been. So it seems that we have, for a time, a situation that requires of us the impetus to stop and take stock of what it is we have been living like/for. And that is no bad thing. And it is not my purpose here to dive into economic or political theory. Rather, I am interested in how we as individuals and as Christian believers can respond to this circumstance that we find ourselves in, and that not by choice.

Our society, in many of its younger constituent members (and, yes, this is a generalisation, but anectodal evidence is strong in its favour) has become completely enthralled to the fast pace of technology and that has affected not only how they see themselves, but in the works and reactions they produce. In other words, our consumption has a profound impact on who we are, how we see ourselves, and how we relate to our fellows. Indeed, it has 'consumed' us. Movies and television shows have become much more 'intense' (and loud), there is a great impatience for the 'next big thing' to be developed and to discard that which it replaces, there is a serious increase in attention deficit disorders in young students and twenty somethings to the point that sitting still and being alone with one's thoughts is an almost unthinkable exercise. Our culture has become obnoxious, rude, loud, overstimulated, and ill-considered. The present virus has taken some of the teeth out of this monster that has been self-generating for some decades now. And that is a good thing.

For a significant minority among us have a hard time interacting with, let alone understanding or desiring to participate in, the frenetic pace that has arisen. We would prefer a nice cup of coffee or tea, a good book, a long walk, a meaningful conversation with a close friend, and/or some time to recover after having been to work/school/running errands that exhaust us. We may be used to feeling closed off from the great crush of humanity, able to fend for ourselves, not mind being alone with the thoughts that rumble through our own head-space, become resilient enough by the training of our nature/mental condition to not panic when something serious occurs that requires our adaptation to circumstance beyond our immediate control. That has been our whole life. It is a blessing, especially now, that may not have felt like one during the many long years of our trying to come to terms with ourselves.

It is now up to the majority to try and cope without some of the innate tools that we might possess. Thus, they will need patience and compassion as they struggle with the discomfort of being not-themselves. A sabbath is here, at the end of our man-made works, whether we like it or not.


Ex. 20:8-11 "Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it."


There are at least a couple of significant things to notice here in this passage from Exodus. The first is that we, who are made in the image and likeness of God, are called to imitate Him in the conclusion of His creative acts. After the six days of creation, He stops to bless what He has done. And we can do the same thing by being more mindful of what we do and how we do it. Whether it is our work, our prayer, our interactions with family/friends/strangers (especially on the internet!), a certain casual unawareness has crept into our social discourse that allows us to keep people at a distance, comment on (read "disapprove of") some aspect of theirs and feel justified in doing so. Rather are we called to bless and to be a blessing to others. And it can be done, even if we disagree, even if the other party is objectively "wrong", and in those times when the wisdom of the Spirit calls us to say nothing at all. Then will we be able to stop and and to see the blessing in what we have done or avoided, which becomes another barometer for reading the condition of our own hearts and to understand more clearly what sort of conversion we are being called to at this particular time.

The other thing, which ties into the first point, is that "the stranger that is within thy gates" is also specified as being included in this sabbath keeping. It is a call to be both kind and generous to those in our midst, especially if they are hard to be kind to. You may be the agent of change God has called to help them become whole through your example and prayer. It is a fearful thing to obstruct the good purpose of the good God and try to replace it with our own sins and failures. A sabbath is here, at the end of our man-made works, whether we like it or not.


Mark 2:27 "And he said unto them, The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath."


In like manner after the Scribes and Pharisees who have, up to this point in St. Mark's Gospel, accused Jesus of forgiving someone's sins, not fasting, and breaking the sabbath, so their modern analogues in the secular world seek to shame people into altering their behaviour by criticising those who leave their homes (without knowledge or consideration of the circumstances involved) and those who have no homes (for not being in one! and for which all sorts of things are blamed but one of the  principle causes, the vagaries of the unrestrained free market which capitalises & commodifies everything in its wake and leaves those behind who cannot afford to invest in its "liberties".) It seems that the "professionally irritated" are among us in force as they were in the 1st century. We can, however, be thankful that the modern day Reddit warrior has not, for the most part, set his sights on religious practice. Back then, someone was healed of a physical disability, a group of people - as likely as not alienated from the religious establishment of the day - have found someone who will accept them and lead them, hungry folks found a legitimate source of food. Today, people put themselves at risk to care for the needy. Are those really such bad things? Are they worthy of complaint?

It's a matter of priorities. If even the great David himself knows that the Torah is meant for his benefit, not to constrain him, how much ought we to be encouraged by his example and to take after it. "Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." (Matt. 5:17) In light of this, there is no good reason for the Scribes and Pharisees to be unsettled by Jesus or for us to be unsettled by the Coronavirus.

Jesus here shows us how to read and interpret the Scriptures properly. He, as the Incarnate Word, is the definitive reference point for all that has been written and that which is to come. The heart of the Gospels is the account of the passion, death and Resurrection of Jesus. Everything else about the narratives flows out from that. The same is true for the whole of the Biblical narrative. The Gospels themselves are the heart. The Epistles, Wisdom literature, Prophets, and Law are concentric circles surrounding the Gospels. The two outermost rings, Genesis and Revelation, the 'book ends' if you will, describe for us the relevant beginning and end of salvation history. And if these latter two seem confusing, filled with bizarre imagery and things that cannot be taken literally, well...think about what they are attempting to communicate: the life and creative power of the Omnipotent God and the response of His beloved creation to His own greatness. No small task, that.

And so, as we continue to live out our days and contemplate our existence and perhaps what sort of changes to our own lives we need to continue after the pandemic runs its course, it is critical that we keep in the forefront of our minds what our Christian profession entails. It is not the keeping of a specific liturgy, the right to assemble together in a public place, or reminding other people of their faults and shortcomings (chances are as likely as not they're already aware of those without your intervention). Rather it is believing in the Lord Jesus, holding the right faith according to the Creeds, allowing the Word of God to constantly take deeper root within our hearts, a consciousness that we are a communion of believers (even in the midst of separation) which both embraces and transcends the physical reality, and a living faith in the reality of the Resurrection, during busy seasons and during times of rest, whether chosen or enforced. A sabbath is here, at the end of our man-made works, whether we like it or not.