Epiphany V

The tradition of the Rule of St. Benedict*, almost 1500 years old now, is known for both its practical wisdom as well as the detail which it provides for the arrangement of the Daily Offices. Speaking of how the Psalms ought to be employed, the Rule says:"Above all else we urge that if anyone finds this distribution of the psalms unsatisfactory, he should arrange whatever he judges better, provided that the full complement of one hundred and fifty psalms is by all means carefully maintained every week...We read, after all, that our holy Fathers, energetic as they were, did all this in a single day. Let us hope that we, lukewarm as we are, can achieve it in a whole week." (from Ch. 18, RB80, p. 215)

Quite analogously, Thomas Cranmer applied the same methodology to the 30 day Psalm cycle in the Book of Common Prayer. If the monks of old could accomplish such in the course of a week, let us hope that we, preoccupied as we are, can manage the same in a whole month. And now, on account of 20^th century liturgical tinkering, a majority of the Psalms can be read at Morning and Evening Prayer over a period of 6 or 7 weeks. As the saying goes, 'not that there's anything wrong with that' per se, but it does indicate a tendency in both our prayer and preaching habits to somewhat marginalise the Old Testament generally and the Psalms in particular. So I rejoice on these Sundays when Morning Prayer is our service order because not only can the Psalms be preached on from the pulpit (as at any other time), but also proclaimed in the context of public worship, the very function for which they were composed originally.

So we read this morning in Psalm 112:2 "His seed shall be mighty upon earth; the generation of the faithful shall be blessed." From St. Augustine's "Exposition on the Psalms": "The Apostle witnesses, that the works of mercy are the seed of the future harvest, when he says, 'Let us not be weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap;' [Galatians 6:9] and again, 'But this I say, He which sows sparingly, shall reap also sparingly.' [2 Corinthians 9:6] But what, brethren, is more mighty than that not only Zacchaeus should buy the kingdom of Heaven by the half of his goods, [Luke 19:8] but even the widow for two mites, [Mark 12:42] and that each should possess an equal share there? What is more mighty, than that the same kingdom should be worth treasures to the rich man, and a cup of cold water to the poor? (newadvent.org/fathers/1801111.htm) And so here we have two significant things going on. The first is a preview of the theme in the Epistle about working mercy and that in the Gospel lesson about the nature of the harvest.

The second is the noting of both Zacchaeus and the widow giving away that which was dearest to them. For Zacchaeus it was the money he had stolen by means of legally acceptable fraud; for the widow it was all that she had to provide for herself in this life. In some ways, they couldn't be more different, but here St. Augustine is considering them as two sides of the same coin, so to speak. Though he uses the phrase “buy the kingdom of heaven”, it should be understood as a rhetorical examination, What is it worth to you? Once again, the same question is being put to us that I brought up last time only in different words: What is it worth to you? - Who do you say that I am? In response, are we willing, like these two people given as examples, to surrender everything? And not just money, but all those other things most dear to us: comfort and security, ego, pretense, anger, resentment, fear, anxiety, suspicion, etc. It's all got to go. And if that sounds impossible? Well, just look carefully at the Cross where literally everything has already been surrendered.

The Epistle today is somewhat unusual as it is not an exact quote from the Authorised Version of the Bible. Likewise on Trinity 15, the Gospel lesson on that date is taken from the American Standard Version, which is a late 19^th, cent. update of the good old King James. Whereas we heard about “a heart of compassion”, if you flip to Colossians 3:12 in the KJV you will read “bowels of mercies”. The late Fr. Lou Tarsitano, preaching on this day at St. Andrew's Church in Savannah, GA. back in 2000, had this to say: "[W]hile 'a heart of compassion' is an effort to provide an example of what that strange expression means, it hides more than it reveals....Thus, St. Paul approaches the mystery of human life, body and soul, on this earth, when he says, 'Put on bowels of mercies.' He means more even than 'love' and more even than 'a heart of compassion.' He expects us to call up every kind of mercy, even for those that we do not approve of or for those who have made themselves our enemies, from our 'guts' – from everything that is in us, from everything that makes us who we are. He expects us to become the living examples of mercy, and not merely to think about it, and especially when some other person doesn't deserve mercy in our ordinary human calculations." (lectionarycentral.com/epiphany/Tarsitano.html) And if that sounds impossible? Well, just look carefully at the Cross where literally everything has already been accomplished.

Speaking of mercy, we now move from our own receipt of instruction by St. Paul to God's own example in the Gospel lesson. It seems that the unidentified “enemy” was not content merely to destroy all or a portion of the future harvest, but wanted rather to plant so much confusion that the sower wouldn't be able to tell what he was even looking at. I think that describes us in our post-Edenic, lapsarian state quite well, don't you?

And just as Newtonian mechanics are quite sufficient to describe the functionality of matter and energy in the universe on a macroscopic scale but cannot accurately guide us down to a quantum level of understanding what it is that really structures that which we observe, just so in moral theology the “Newtonian world” (so to speak) of the Covenants given to Noah and Abraham, the Commandments given to Moses that followed and the Natural Law before them becomes insufficient to describe the person redeemed by and justified in Christ. The Resurrection literally changes everything and reveals the foundational structure of what we have been observing throughout the course of recorded salvation history, including the fact that the harvest is not ours to accomplish, but only to partake of.

Consider what Fr. Robert Hart says about the Gospel lesson: "The plants that are called tares are very much like wheat in appearance, but they lack the nutritional properties of wheat. You can’t eat from these weeds. However, it is very difficult to distinguish with the eye between the tares and true wheat....No, the Lord does not uproot the wheat in order to destroy the tares. Consider what it would mean if He did. Look at Saint Paul. If ever there was a tare that deserved uprooting, it was the persecutor of the Church, Saul of Tarsus. He had been confident in his own righteousness as a Hebrew of Hebrews, a Pharisee who was, as touching the Law of Moses, blameless. And, the crowning virtue of his righteousness was his zeal that he demonstrated by persecuting the Church. When the Lord Jesus appeared to him, as he approached the Damascus Gate, and was knocked to the ground, Saul learned that his crowning achievement of righteousness was actually the great sin of persecuting none other than Messiah Himself by persecuting His people. What had been in Saul's mind the seal and mark of his righteousness, was in reality a filthy rag, a grievous sin. And, at the same moment that he was being made aware of the enormity of his guilt, he was being shown mercy, called from the darkness of ignorance and sin into the light of Christ, and to the righteousness that comes by faith in Him. It is no wonder that this whole theme would dominate the message of what, today, we call Pauline theology. And so it is, this one-time enemy of the Church became Saint Paul the Apostle.” (http://anglicancontinuum.blogspot.com/2014/02/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany.html)

Here is the lesson for us. Rather than getting all worked up over the future condition of one person or another (tares or wheat, how can we even discern?!? Yet it remains sorely tempting to try), simply pray for the conversion and salvation of all, especially those who seem particularly unlovable and undesirable or just plain wicked after the example of Ananias in Acts 9. Remember too, that it is quite likely that there are those who think the same about you or I (i.e. unlovable, undesirable, just plain wicked). Please God, they will pray for our own conversion of heart as well. We are called to love all and to forgive all, even as Christ has forgiven us. And if that sounds impossible? Well, just look carefully at the Cross where literally everything has already been forgiven. And that unfathomable harvest of Divine mercy, that locus of compassion, leads us right back into the Psalms where they are blessed who fear the Lord and take great delight in his commands.


*Speaking of which, if you haven't read it yet, I heartily endorse Rod Dreher's "The Benedict Option". My only real disagreement with Dreher is his assumption that the post-Constantinian Church-State-cultural cooperative (in all its various forms) was ever a good thing that we should strive to someday be able to return to. (See my previous post and feel free to disagree with it. That is simply my opinion.)

Trinity XXV

Daniel 3:8-30       Matthew 24:23-31

 

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Now that we are approaching the end of the Ecclesiastical as well as the secular year, the Scripture lessons in the lectionary focus, appropriately enough, on eschatological themes. Today we are being warned to redouble our faithfulness in the face of both a coercive civil power as well as the idolatry of false religion that has at its base not Christ, but the ego.

If you would once again follow me back in time, the original 1928 Daily Office lectionary indicates most of the third chapter of Daniel as the first lesson for Morning Prayer on this day, wherein is recounted the casting of the three Hebrew men into Nebuchadnezzer's furnace for refusing to bow down before an image he had set up, to wit:

"Then Nebuchadnezzer in his rage and fury commanded to bring Shadrach, Meshach, and Abéd-nego. Then they brought these men before the king. Nebuchadnezzer spake and said unto them, Is it true, O Shadrach, Meshach, and Abéd-nego, do not ye serve my gods, nor worship the golden image which I have set up?...[I]f ye worship not, ye shall be cast the same hour into the midst of a burning fiery furnace; and who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?" (Dan. 3:13-14, 15b)

 

And I'm sure you know the rest of the story. The furnace was so hot that those charged with casting the king's victims into it and standing watch were themselves consumed by the flames, yet the three young men were unharmed. Nebuchadnezzer was so impressed that he released them and, in a great act of completely missing the point, now commanded the death and destruction of any who spoke ill of the God they worship.
 

And therein lies our own word of warning. For the first three hundred years of its existence, Christianity was an illegal movement persecuted by the civil authorities. Not only did it survive under such circumstances, it flourished after the pattern of Christ Himself who tells us in John 12:24, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." My friends, that is the 'natural' state of Christ's Church here on earth. I would suggest that what we have become so accustomed to seeing from a now centuries-long perspective, Church and State living peaceably side by side if not outright assuming each other's duties and obligations, is not the proper environment in which the Gospel can grow and prosper unaltered. What is in fact 'upside down' we have accepted as 'right-side up' because that is what we have been told (with varying degrees of insistence) and is the draught we have imbibed. It is far too early to tell, but perhaps things are now changing and Christianity will no longer effectively be an arm of the state. Many people are afraid of this. Well, let me be the positive contrarian and tell you that what can be a source of anxiety and panic is actually cause for rejoicing and greater hope. At this juncture in western history, Christendom (that symphonic and symbiotic relationship of Church and empire) has played itself out. And frankly, if I may say so, not a moment too soon! As we read in Psalm 146:3 "Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help." For they, like Nebuchadnezzer, will turn on you in a moment's notice and all the transitory money, power and influence that they can offer will still not be able to save you. "Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God." (vs. 4)
 

"[I]f any man shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ, or there; believe it not." (Matt. 24:23) Joel Osteen would tell me that Christ is found in positive thinking and prosperity. I don't believe him. Dr. Creflo Dollar would tell me that Christ is found in possessing a great fortune. I don't believe that either. Arianism and Islam would tell me that Christ is simply a great creature (and, thus, incapable of making Atonement without a greater-than-he, external assistance). If the Church's teaching of the Scriptures is true, that simply cannot be the case. The former Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church would tell me that Christ is found in the Millennium Development Goals of the U.N. They, of their very nature, lack the ability proclaim that Christ is risen. The great Christian empires, democracies and other secular governments have desired to tell me that Christ is present in absolute agreement with politics and constitutions, bureaucracy and legal compulsion, campaigns and backroom deal making. If a tree is known by its fruits, I don't believe that either. For what all of these contrivances give freely with one hand, they will eventually take away with the other after the fashion of Nebuchadnezzer himself. This is the fatal logic of the zero-sum game, of fear incarnate through threat of scarcity, of covetousness and the passion of desire that has marred our theological history from the beginning with the murder of Abel by his own brother Cain – a great sorrow that did not have to be so. In the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks in his book "Not in God's Name: Confronting Religious Violence", "God may choose, but God does not reject. The logic of scarcity- of alpha males and chosen sons – has no place in a world made by a God whose 'tender mercies are on all his works' (Ps. 145:9)."
 

One of my all-time favourite quotes from Fr. Stephen Freeman has to be: "The Kingdom of God has come whether we like it or not." And, if we're being honest, a lot of us don't like it because we cannot control its parameters and force it into the blindness of a singular lens, try as we might! The Kingdom of God is not synonymous with politics, economics, the 'successful' life of quiet desperation that so many people 'achieve' in the modern world, nor even with the heaven imagined by those who still dwell in the two-storey universe where we do our thing 'down here' and God is watching 'up there' where we will eventually get to after the terms of our contract expire, sufficient effort has been expended, or our anxiety has propelled us. That is all wretched, meaningless nonsense. And here, in the words of Dostoevsky's 'underground man' is where it can all go: "Because I only talk a good game, I only dream in my head, but do you know what I want in reality? That [it] all go to hell, that's what! I want peace. I'd sell the whole world for a kopeck this minute, just not to be bothered. Shall the world go to hell, or shall I not have my tea? I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea." (from "Notes from Underground") But, unlike the 'underground man' whose intent was to write off his fellow persons among whom he was not able to find his place, we are called by our Lord in similarly strong words to that single-mindedness of which He is both Author and Exemplar: "And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead." (Matt. 8:21-22) This is not a rejection, but a fulfilling in which all are invited to partake.
 

If it is found neither in empires nor in bureaucracies, neither in the practice and belief of much that is contemporary calling itself 'religion', do you wish to see the Kingdom of God as it actually is? Then you will find it right here during these numinous moments in the midst of the liturgy, you will find it in the persons of the poor and disadvantaged who still gladly give what they can and pray with thanksgiving, you will find it in your own heart when you freely love those who are become your enemy through their fault or yours. Mostly, though, you will find it not in the life of competition for position and anxiety over having 'enough' (of whatever it is you have been told to pursue), in the shame of comparing ourselves to others and bargaining for the merest scraps of information and recognition (looking at you social media!) That is the offspring of this modern society (and many others throughout history). But rather that Kingdom is to be found in the life of grace freely given through our baptism and continuous conversion to the Lord Jesus, in Whom alone is salvation and eternal life.
 

So, there is good news here. There is occasion and opportunity that has never existed here in the two centuries since the creation of this country.  Following the Lord Jesus will no longer automatically gain you advantage and preferment. But that's okay, for the two great principles are always true and present: Christ is risen and the Kingdom of God is come among us. Nothing else really matters. So it is quite right to pay the circumstances of our existence in the world no mind whatsoever. As we are instructed in 1 Cor. 2:6, "Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect; yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought." And, we can also take courage that Jesus counsels us in John 21 against needless worry, comparison, and false choices (as if there were a scarcity of Divine love to go around) and shows us instead what we ought to be about: "Then Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; which also leaned on his breast at supper, and said, Lord, which is he that betrayeth thee? Peter seeing him saith to Jesus, Lord, and what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me." (vs. 20-22)

Transfiguration

"For he received from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."

(2 Peter 1:17)

The Christian manifestation of God's glory begins its full fruition at Christ's baptism. As the Holy Ghost descends upon Him, we hear the voice of the Father declare: “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." (Mk. 1:11) The three occurrences, or theophanies if you will, of this utterance all come at the most significant moments in Jesus’ ministry on earth and thus are not just "wow moments" chosen at random. They point to the three traditional roles ascribed to Him of prophet, king and priest. He is a prophet because He comes to tell us of the things of God through His preaching and healing ministry begun at the river Jordan. He is king because He is thesecond Person of the Blessed Trinity reigning forever in Heaven, manifested so dramatically on Mt. Tabor. He is a priest because He offers the one liturgical oblation, to which all the blood offerings of the Old Testament rites pointed, of Himself on the Cross.  Seeing their connexion, let us now consider each of these happenings in some more detail.

John's baptism, particularly of Jesus, has a significance both historical and analogical, and not simply because these are things that we have assigned to it. We are to see that Jesus' coming is going to completely transform and fulfill all that has come before by His participation in the lived Covenant given to Moses and developed by Israelite tradition. Now, it can appear problematic that Jesus here presents himself for a baptism of repentance. We who profess the orthodox faith say of Him in the Nicene Creed: "God of God, Light of Light, Very God of veryGod". Consider that in the grand scheme of Christianity (particularly with regard to the Cross and Resurrection, without which everything else becomes meaningless), a fallible god in need of conversion and repentance is entirely laughable and useless. Thanks be to God, that is not the case. Thus we are not in any meaningful way similar to the present day devotees ofa self-inflicted Mt. Olympus and the errant, fickle deities that have been enthroned there by pathological fiat. Rather does Jesus come to confirm His own humanity and to reaffirm the message of John. What John had been preaching to those gathered about him was in fact perfectly consistent with both the Old Testament prophets and the newly inaugurated  ministry of Jesus, to Whom all that had come before did indeed point and in Whom all would find perfect fulfillment. Herein is the glory of this first facet of the triple theophany recounted in the Gospels.

In the second instance, the Transfiguration, there is no seeming paradox to contend with. The Divinity of Christ is displayed before the eyes of the chosen Apostles, who are absolutely dumbfounded. As the perfect humanity of Christ is established and confirmed in His baptism, so does the Father confirm for us on Mt. Tabor that Heis pleased to throw the full weight of the Godhead in our direction, for our benefit. If ever there were any doubts in the minds of Peter, James and John, it has certainly been illustrated for them beyond the shadow of a doubt that “the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us and we beheld his glory.” The Gospels are showing us that yes, the two natures in the one person of Jesus Christ is in fact an authentic revelation, doctrine commended to the faithful as worthy of beliefand entrusted to the care of the Church to preserve for all ages.

The other thing to note about the Transfiguration is the topic of conversation amongst Jesus, Moses and Elijah. In a sermon about this subject the Rev. John Mason Neale, the great 19th cent. Anglican priest and hymnographer, said: "And what did they talk of? If wehad not been told, how different a conversation we should have imagined! We should perhaps have thought that they would speak of that kingdom which the LORD had come on earth to establish; that kingdom which shall never be destroyed, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail; that kingdom which shall be from sea to sea, and from the flood unto the world's end. Nothing less. 'They appeared in glory, and spake of His decease.' To talk of death in the height of this glory! To talk of a shameful death,-a death of agony,- amidst such brightness as the world had never before seen! Yes: but the text does not end so. They 'spake of His decease which He should accomplish.' What a wonderful word! When do we speak thus? We say that a man accomplishes deliverance from death, but to accomplish death itself,who would thus talk? It tells us how freely, how earnestly, our LORD set about His Passion, according to that saying of His: 'I have a Baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished.'... And that indeed was a glorious subject for a season of glory. This was a brighter and better vision than Moses had, when he gat him to the top of Pisgah, and beheld all the land which GOD had promised to His people. This was a nobler prospect than Elijah had, when the chariot was bearing him up above the clouds, and his mantle fell from off him." (John Mason Neale, Sermon XV, "The Three Tabernacles")

There are many facets of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ to fix our attention on. But no matter which you choose, they all lead to the passion, death and Resurrection. There is no getting around that, and that is a good thing. And so these instances of kerygmatic parallelism that we have noted in the Gospels are now brought to completion on Calvary by the centurion’s statement: “Truly this was the son of God.” (Mt. 27:54)  The Evangelists have collated pregnant instances of both the perfect humanity and the perfect Divinity of Christ and now show us that the redemptive work of the Cross is as efficacious as itneeded to be. The humanity of the Jesus who humbly submitted to St. John’s baptism is offered on the Crossin a perfect sacrificial act of love. The Divinity of Christ exhibited on Mt. Tabor is able to offer the perfect sacrifice and to have it accepted on our behalf. This is both something that only humanity could do and that only God could do. Take away one of these two elements and the whole scheme of redemption loses its potency, the remainder becomes nothing more than an empty ritual, a cosmic farce performed not out of love and mercy, but merely out of disinterested condescension or, what's even worse, a sort of sanitised blood-lust and wrath. In the words of Fr. Stephen Freeman: "For various reasons, some people are determined to make the economy of salvation to be linked with the Wrath of God. If you do not repent, then God will do thus and such... I have always considered this representation of the gospel to be coercive and contrary to the love of God. I have heard convoluted ways in which this wrath is interpreted to be 'the loving thing to do' but I do not buy it....But it is essential in our witness to the God Who Is, to always relate the fact that He is a loving God, not willing that any should perish. He is not against us but for us. This is utterly essential to the correct proclamation of the Gospel." (from "Glory 2 God for all things", God's Wrath, Jan. 15, 2009)

There is one more thing to note. On this day some 73 years ago, the world was forever changed when, in the context of a state of war, a nuclear bomb was detonated over Hiroshima. And whatever side of the debate you find yourself on as to whether this was a justified, proportional response or no, the fact remains that such action could only be taken within a grievously broken world wherein remain unconverted men who, above all else, desire power.  What, then, do we do with this? From an article two years ago in the magazine of the Orthodox Peace Fellowship, In Communion: "The Transfiguration is a promise to a broken world. A promise that all scars will be healed, all divisions overcome, all wars ended, and all souls restored. The Earth will no longer be a crucible of destruction, but the realm of the Kingdom. Atomic radiation will not shine forth from broken bodies, but the uncreated light from transfigured ones. Men will no longer aspire to harness the power of God, but will kneel before their king. There will no longer be cause to be afraid." (Nicholas Sooy, In Communion, Aug. 2016)

And so, as Jesus calls us each and every day to follow Him, we too can and must assume a portion of His threefold role as prophet by striving faithfully to live an authentic Christian life that will preach to others by our deeds and disposition, as priest by making offerings united to His of both praise and repentance, and as king by longing for the coming of His Kingdom which is indeed here among us as we are told by St. Mark: "...The time is fulfulled, and the kingdom of God is at hand..." (Mk. 1:15). And we know what our dignity both is and will be in His Kingdom: "Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might bepartakers of the divine nature." (2 Pet. 1:4) And then, when we come at last to our own particular death and judgment, our Father in heaven will be able to say of us, always on account of the work of His Son accomplished perfectly for us as we could never accomplish for ourselves: This is my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.

Trinity IX

"[The] holy Apostle Saint James, leaving his father and all that he had, was obedient unto the calling of...Jesus Christ"

"A certain man had two sons: And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living." (Lk. 15:11-13)

As the Church celebrated St. James this past week on July 25th, three quick things of note occurred to me:

1. Whereas the Apostle James, who may or may not have caught wind of John the Baptist's preaching about Jesus, nevertheless surrendered his livelihood at a moment's notice to follow Him, someone he had no first hand knowledge of with no prior, contractual assurances about what the future would hold; the younger son, who had literally known his father and family his entire life and was bound to them by ties of blood and filial affection, was able (in effect) to wish his father's death to his face by asking for his stake of the inheritance and then remove himself far away from them to lead a life of self-indulgence along with, I am sure, many other carefully crafted plans for his own future enjoyment.

2. Whereas St. James was witness to the preaching and healing ministry of Jesus, the showing forth of the Divinity of Christ in the Transfiguration and the wonderful miracles of the feeding of the thousands and the raising of Lazarus from the dead; the younger son was forced into the worst of circumstances when the money he depended on ran out, had to take on undesirable work and, ultimately, had to come face to face with his shame and steel himself to beg forgiveness from those he had mindlessly cast aside as utterly worthless and literally dead to him.

3. But...here's the really good part. These things happened, and continue to do so today. And we can, I think, take great courage and comfort in the examples of both these men. Whether early in the day or late, whether before or after any of us have sinned, there is always room for repentance, forgiveness and the embrace of the Lord Jesus. As we learn in Matt. 20:14-15, "Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own?" And with what great generosity is the gift given? It is almost shocking to our sensibilities, particularly our great regard for the 'fairness' of debt, vengeance and retaliation. "But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry." (Lk. 15:22-24)


"He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches" (Rev. 2:29) “and let all the people say Amen.” (Ps. 106:46b)

Easter II

II Samuel 1:19-end   I Peter 2:19-end   John 10:11-16

As has become my custom since last summer, I have been using the original daily office lectionary appended to the 1928 Book of Common Prayer. The first lesson given for this morning is the last portion of the 1st chapter of II Samuel. This is a marvelously providential choice as it allows us to do some hermeneutical heavy lifting with respect both to the overall Biblical narrative and to the Eucharistic propers for today more specifically.

From II Samuel 1:19-21: "The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places: how are the mighty fallen! Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain, upon you, nor fields of offerings: for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil."

Firstly, consider these words at their 'face value' in the context of the narrative. This is a portion of David's lament after learning of the death of King Saul. Notice both his righteous indignation against the death of the anointed king as well as the depth of filial affection directed toward the man who had, earlier, persued David and those loyal to him in order to kill him. We'll come back to that in a while as we examine the Epistle.

In an effort to dig down a bit deeper from the surface of the literal meaning, the curious onlooker is as likely as the formal student to encounter the historical-critical method which seeks, as its name implies, to understand the biblical texts in their cultural and temporal contexts with as much scientific objectivity as possible and as little conjecture as necessary. Some who adhere to this approach as a principle vehicle of interpretation have, however, stretched the meaning of 'necessity' well beyond the breaking point.

Pope Benedict XVI, in the Foreward of the first volume of his work "Jesus of Nazareth" talks about both the usefulness as well as the limits of this methodology. "The historical-critical method – let me repeat – is an indispensable tool, given the structure of Christian faith. But we need to add two points. This method is a fundamental dimension of exegesis, but it does not exhaust the interpretive task for someone who sees the biblical writings as a single corpus of Holy Scripture inspired by God....On painstaking reflection, it can intuit something of the 'deeper value' the word contains. It can in some sense catch the sounds of a higher dimension through the human word, and so open up the method to self-transcendance. But its specific object is the human word as human." (Jesus of Nazareth; vol. 1, xvii)

So it seems clear from these remarks that there is yet something still needful when we approach the Scriptures. Going even further 'under the surface' from historical criticism, we arrive at the typological method of reading the Scriptures, itself quite prominent among the Fathers of the first Christian centuries. To be sure this methodology did not originate with them, but is found in the text of the inspired writers themselves. Consider Romans 5:14: "Nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, who is the figure of him that was to come." What the Authorised Version renders as 'figure' is 'typos' (tóo-pahs) in Greek. According to Strong's Concordance, 'typos' (G5179) can mean (among other things): a stamp or die; a style or resemblance; a figure, form, manner, pattern, or print. In the specific context of this verse from Romans, then, Adam is the type whereas Christ is the anti-type.

In order to clarify the nature and function of typological interpretation further, consider this from OxfordBiblicalStudies.com: "Some of what happened in the OT is seen to be anticipations of events recorded in the NT, and some of the narratives in the gospels seem to be reflected in the Acts. The anticipations are called ‘types’ and the fulfilments are the ‘antitypes’. Thus the story of the Exodus is repeated in the synoptic gospels; the Israelites cross the Red Sea, yield to temptations of doubt and disillusionment for forty years in the wilderness, and then Moses on Mount Sinai presents the people with the Law. In the gospels Jesus is baptized in the water by John, is tempted for forty days in the wilderness, and then gives the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7). The difference is that where Israel failed, by repeatedly grumbling and doubting God's determination, Jesus succeeded. The gospels are, as it were, retelling the story of Israel, but giving the events of Jesus as its climax and rationale.... The principle behind such exegesis is that God had the same purpose in the NT as he always had (cf. Heb. 13:8). He is consistent. Though his plan failed because of Israel's weakness, he did not change his plan but brought it to completion through Jesus."

Now, all of this has been by way of preparation to consider the Old Testament lesson that I started out with. I would suggest that king Saul is, in this case, a type foreshadowing Christ on the Cross. He is, as indeed is the Lord Jesus, God's anointed, killed on the heights of Gilboa as Christ was on Golgotha. "The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places" by one who was unaware of the ultimate gravity of his actions. Saul's attendant tells David in II Sam. 1:10: "So I stood upon him, and slew him, because I was sure that he could not live after that he was fallen: and I took the crown that was upon his head, and the bracelet that was on his arm, and have brought them hither unto my lord....And David said unto him, Thy blood be upon thy head; for thy mouth hath testified against thee, saying, I have slain the Lord's anointed." Surely there is an echo and prefiguring of St. Luke 23: 33-34: "And when they were come to the place, which is called Calvary, there they crucified him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand, and the other on the left. Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

And while it is an easy thing to contrast David's order to kill Saul's attendant with Christ's call to the Father for forgiveness toward those who have crucified Him, in reality both are simply being faithful to the Covenant in place at the time, to wit: David has exacted an "eye for an eye" whereas Christ perfectly exemplifies the Summary of the Law we were reminded of at the beginning of today's Liturgy.

The other thing to note in this text from II Samuel becomes David's lament over the man who had persued him unto death. And that is a remarkable thing in and of itself. Who among us is possessed of sufficient virtue to genuinely lament the death of those who hate us and wish us harm, grevious or otherwise, justified or not? David's response is also noteworthy in that it preceeds the theology of the Epistle. "For this is thankworthy, if a man for conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wrongfully....For even hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps." (I Peter 2:19, 21) Here, then, in David's lament, is yet another example of type preceeding antitype. "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

The conclusion of the Epistle is a natural segue into the Gospel lesson. Jesus said, "I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." (Jn. 10:11) In his sermon for this Sunday, the Rev. Isaac Williams noted: "As the Lamb was slain from before the foundation of the world, so is He ever the good Shepherd that gives His life for the sheep; it is His own inseparable attribute. I am the good Shepherd: the good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep.  He that died for us, and gave us that proof of His love, has not gone away, and departed, and left us in the wilderness, but is even now with us as the good Shepherd.  He is not indifferent about us, of our ways and doings, but as a man careth for his own, which he hath bought at an exceeding high price, so He, as the good Shepherd, careth for us."

Once again, this returns us to a consideration of David. His original occupation was also tending his father's flocks from which he was called to defend the Israelites against the Philistine army and their champion Goliath who had inspired fear in all the men of Saul's army. Later on, he put his own life at risk once again defending himself against Saul himself in order to bring peaceful rule to Israel. And if David, as type, out of his sin with Bathsheba begat Solomon who would reign as the wisest of the Kings, so Christ as antitype would, out of the death wrought by Adam's sin, beget mankind again as adopted children of the Father who once again have access to eternal life. "I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep."

Now that we have gone hither and yon to consider some of the prefigurements of the Old Testament effective in and of themselves as signs and symbols of the glory to come yet never able to bring about what they pointed to until the Incarnation itself brought reality out of their  shadows and into His own glorious light, there is one more thing to consider about Christ our Good Shepherd. The two verses which follow immediately upon today's Gospel lesson read: "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it up again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again." [Jn. 10:17,18] We too have a share in this power of laying down and taking up again. Just as I have noted before that we share in the creative power of God's Word by use of our own words to build up or destroy, to bless or to curse with our tongue, so we too have an active and participatory share in the power to lay down our burdens and sins. Should it be your lot to be (over)burdened with anger, resentment, impatience, pride, envy, hatred or anything else listed in Galatians 5, as by your own will you had taken them up originally, so under God's grace now is the time to lay them down. As we read in Romans 6:19: "[A]s ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness" by the grace won for you by Christ our Good Shepherd.

In conclusion, Martin Luther, in his sermon for today, tells us: "Comforting, indeed, it is to be the happy lambs who have a welcome refuge in the Shepherd and find in him joy and comfort in every time of need, assured that his perfect faithfulness cares for and protects us from the devil and the gates of hell. Relative to this subject, the entire Twenty-third Psalm is a beautiful and joyous song, of which the refrain is, 'The Lord is my Shepherd'."

Brother Paphnutius - an ongoing parable (Part VII)

"And as they did eat, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said, Take, eat: this is my body." (Mk. 14:22)

 

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Uncertainty

366 A.D. - the Egyptian desert (early winter)

Br. Paphnutius loves the Book of Common Prayer and quantum physics (the whimsical irony of neither one of these having been conceived in his lifetime being completely beside the point!). In its American edition of 1928 there is a prayer that includes (on pg. 37 for those following along at home): "Give us grace seriously to lay to heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions." If in his own day, the Gnostics and the Arians were the loudest of the divisive, just imagine what he would think if he could see the state of Christianity in the 21st century!

At the least(!), these divisions are at their heart a disagreement over what particular texts mean as we read them in the Bible. And that got Paphnutius thinking, 'what happens when someone reads something from the Bible? Do they bring their own biases and individual ways of thinking?' (Yes.) 'Will any one person ever have enough information to be able to read it in isolation?' (Not likely.) 'Are the decrees of the Council of Nicaea an accurate representation of what appears in the pages of the Scriptures?' [Paphnutius is banking on it, with good reason (cf. the rhetorical point immediately preceeding this one).]

So, when reading the Bible, is it simple or complex? Neither? Both?

How's about this? Let's say, for argument's sake, that it is "ontologically simple" yet "theologically and literarily complex".

Let's see how Paphnutius breaks this down using the text quoted at the head of this article. It is indeed ontologically simple. Jesus, acting prior to the surety of His Crucifixion and Resurrection (which is, by the way, the WHOLE POINT of the entirety of Scripture) begins His fulfillment to the Passover act by means of the chabûrah meal [in order that it might be subsequently repeated regularly (see Gregory Dix) - that whole bit about fulfilling, not abolishing, the Law being entirely germane here].

Thus the "take, eat" of the Last Supper is ontologically simple.

But there is all sorts of other stuff going on here. This account was written down (and has been translated through) multiple languages and textual recensions of (generically slight) different readings so that words such as "take", "eat", "do this", "remembrance" "my body" cannot simply be taken at face value but must be looked into through cultural anthropology, literary analysis (including etymological development), their relation to the rest of the narrative in context, the teaching of the Fathers of the first centuries A.D. (remember that bit about not being able to work in isolation?!), and other means.

Consider this as well. The "communions of antiquity" (Rome, Orthodoxy, Miaphysite), the Reformed bodies (Lutheranism, Presbyterianism, Anglicanism, etc.), and the modern movements (non-denominational, revivalist, prosperity, etc.) cannot agree on what this verse means.

Thus the "take, eat" of the Last Supper is, at the same time, theologically/literarily complex.

The point (yes, there is one) is that this is a pretty important specific subject (as it is mentioned not only by all 4 Gospels, but also in Acts and the Pauline Epistle to the Corinthians) so we (at bare minimum) need to keep our thinking clear (even if, as seems likely, there will never be entire agreement).

In our thinking, perhaps Heisenberg can help clear away some of the mental jetsam that is such an obstruction:

"As an example, he considered the measurement of the position of an electron by a  microscope. The accuracy of such a measurement is limited by the wave length of the light  illuminating the electron. Thus, it is possible, in principle, to make such a position  measurement as accurate as one wishes, by using light of a very short wave length. But...the  Compton effect cannot be ignored: the interaction of the electron and the illuminating light  should then be considered as a collision of at least one photon with the electron. In such a  collision, the electron suffers a recoil which disturbs its momentum. Moreover, the shorter  the wave length, the larger is this change in momentum. Thus, at the moment when the  position of the particle is accurately known, Heisenberg argued, its momentum cannot be  accurately known." (see https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/qt-uncertainty/)

Phew! What?!?

Simply this. Delving too deeply into the complexity, we can (and have) gotten quite lost and shifted the point (which is indeed to "take, eat" not "look, dispute"). Exclusively relying on the simplicity (particularly when such is conceived in modern terms such as plain, unadorned, easy to understand and not in a philosophico-theological construction of non-compartmentalisation and evident teleology) moves us to where some are at today [i.e. drowning in a sea of Nominalism (of their own making!)].

[Now, if you will excuse him, Br. Paphnutius is off to attend Sunday Liturgy so that he might "take" and "eat".

To be continued...

Lancelot Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester

Today is the date of death [Well, sort of. England at the time was still on the Julian Calendar] of the venerable Lancelot Andrewes, sometime bishop of Winchester and translator of a portion of the Authorised ("King James") Bible.

Some of his works can be found at this link.

Here is the collect we used at our parish's morning prayer yesterday:

O God, who hast put in Thine own power
the times and the seasons; as Thou didst endue
Thy bishop Lancelot Andrewes with the grace
of the Apostolic ministry and the virtue of godly learning,
so give us the like grace that in all fitting and acceptable times
we may pray unto thee and come at last into the fulness
of Thy great glory. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This is my own composition. The italicized portions are taken and adapted from the "Horology" appearing in a translation of Andrewes' "Preces Privatae".

"Western troparia" to the Holy Ghost

O God the Holy Spirit, light and life,
living fountain of all spiritual reality,
the essence of wisdom and the Spirit of knowledge,
refining fire proceeding from refining fire;
as we recall the great mystery of your descent at Pentecost
come again among your own who desire to be blessed and hallowed
by your life giving power that we may be a blessing
and a hallowing to all mankind.

O Great Promise of the Word made flesh,
as we look forward to His coming again with power and great glory,
assist us to redeem the time as the days are evil.

Therefore we offer and present unto You O Lord, O Holy Spirit,
ourselves and our souls and bodies in the company and fellowship
of those who have shed their blood and won the palm of martyrdom
in our day. May we all be a reasonable, holy, and sweet-smelling sacrifice
unto You, likewise to the Eternal Father and to the Risen Son,
living and reigning ever one God, throughout all ages
world without end. Amen.

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This is an original composition by me with influences from the Scots '29, S. African '54 and American '28 Eucharistic canons as well as prayers at the Lamplighting Psalms from the Byzantine Catholic rite. - D.E.S. 

Br. Paphnutius - an ongong parable (Part VII)

"In the beginning..." (Genesis 1:1)

 

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Atonement

 

366 A.D. - the Egyptian desert (sometime in the Autumn)

What a lovely Fall afternoon! The papyrus harvest, more plentiful than usual, is drying in the sheds. There will be plenty of work to do over the Winter in making paper and copying manuscripts for use of the brethren. The monastic choir has been sounding more harmonious lately when they gather in the church to sing Vespers before the daily meal. There have been no wars, or rumours of wars, for over a year now. In short, life is good for the Egyptian monks.

As philosophy is the luxury of the fed and housed, Br. Paphnutius has been entertaining some guests today who asked him about the particulars of the Fall of Mankind recounted in Genesis and the Atonement wrought on the Cross and in the Resurrection. Basically, their questions [loaded with preconceptions such as a literal 6 day creation and the making of Adam and Eve as the first two people exactly as described in the Hebrew text] boiled down to this one: "Father, what does it all mean?"

"Well", said Paphnutius. "Let's start at the beginning. 'In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth.' As far as I have always been concerned, the rest of the story up until the serpent's appearance is just a commentary on that first sentence. Did any of it actually happen as described? It may or may not have. Remember when we discussed the four senses [Editorial note: For those of you reading along at home, those are the literal, the allegorical, the moral, and the anagogical.] in which our Scriptures can be read and how it is not only possible, but likely that these senses blend together in the various parts in greater or lesser degree depending on context and circumstance? Well, I think that very thing is at play right here at the beginning of the story. If you can find a good balance of the senses and get past needing 'Adam' and 'Eve' to be historical prototypes and see them rather as archetypes in the midst of the unfolding of creation, then I think you can stand on pretty solid ground intellectually and spiritually. Nowhere in this text do the creation stories demand to be taken literally. But that doesn't mean that what they are telling us isn't true, it just isn't true in the easiest possible way to read it. Somewhat related to this, when we look out into the night sky and observe the heavens, I imagine that we will someday be able to see further out and discover more about the operation of the sky. If it isn't exactly as described here, well that's not really a problem. If you think 'the heaven and the earth' is the most important piece of the sentence I quoted from Genesis, you have entirely missed the point."

"Okay, you have our attention." said one of Paphnutius' interlocutors. "What is the point?"

"The point", my dear fellow, "is 'God created'. That is the essence of the opening line of Genesis. Everything else follows on from that. If you just keep your wits and 'senses' about you, you can read the text without getting bogged down by things that have no primary bearing on what is being communicated. Consider this. Today, when I woke up, after keeping Vigil, I walked out of my cave and turned right to collect some water. That is an historical event that was witnessed by some of the brethren and so they and I can be assured that I actually did this thing. It is 'true'. Conversely, it is 'false' to say that I turned left when walking out of my cave. I could have, but I chose not to. In this instance, I could have made at least four different decisions: turning to the right, turning to the left, going straight ahead, or remaining in the cave. It is only because we live in a linear time cycle that there are such things as the past and the future, events that happened and events that didn't happen. It is like floating down a river which has such a strong current that we can neither swim against it nor get close enough to the shore to see what lies beyond. [Editorial note: If our perspective is that of the one in the river, then God's perspective is, at the very least, of the one standing on the shore who is free to travel to all points up and down the watercourse...and beyond.] Perhaps we can extend this metaphor further."

By now, the heads of his guests were beginning to spin. "What do you mean, Father? This is a bit much to digest before dinner."

"Bear with me, please" replied Paphnutius. "I have given some consideration to these matters and it does me good to speak them out loud in order that they might breathe the free air of discussion, consideration and challenge."

"We'll do our best" said the guests in unison.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes. What if, from the time I made my first decision, my life, like a river, branched off into each of the possibilities. Therefore, my choice caused me to 'float' down one of the branches rather than the others. Since I am floating at water level in this metaphorical river, I cannot see beyond its banks. And this brings us back around to the text in Genesis. Could there not also be other 'channels' or 'tributaries' wherein other persons are also experiencing the consequences of their decisions independently, yet we are all moving in the same direction? If 'Adam' and 'Eve' are indeed the archetypes I claim them to be, then the subsequent revelation of the Prophets, the Wisdom literature, the Gospels and Epistles all proclaim a common telos as the Greeks would put it. In other words, though we can't/don't see them in the Genesis narrative, all other tributaries are flowing into the main channel eventually and, thus, all moving in the same direction."

"Yikes" said the guests, again in unison, much like a Greek chorus. "But there's only one universe, and God created it. What is this business about rivers, and multiple choices. It's too complicated."

[Editorial note: Please don't get bogged down by the side issue of whether or not all possibilities are necessitated into being. This is not, after all, a script from Dr. Who. The prime purpose of this mental exercise, as Paphnutius will get to straight away, is to bring some perspective to our perspective (i.e. We see what we are able to and/or need to; that doesn't exclude the presence of other 'peripherals').]

"Yes, it is complicated" replied Paphnutius. "But what I'm getting at is that perhaps only the course of one of the 'river-tributaries' is being described in Genesis. Remember that what is written there must logically have been committed to paper long after what is being described and retold by oral tradition. It is hard, nay impossible, for those floating in the river to describe what is beyond its banks, let alone what is at the head of the watercourse which, for them lies many leagues behind and around multiple twists and turns."

"I think we are in agreement about that. It does strain the imagination, but makes sense. Where are you going with this, Father?"

"It gets us back to the nature of truth. I started out by telling you that it was a 'truth' that I walked out of my cave this morning and turned to the right. We instinctively assume, then, that my turning left was a falsehood as I didn't do that. But...as it was a possibility that I do so, perhaps the 'left branch' of that part of the river still exists as a route untaken. Therefore, the possibility exists that that is also 'true', we just won't ever see it since we cannot 'swim backwards'. That is our perspective. And if that is the case about small things of no lasting consequence such as the direction I travel in order to obtain water, might it not also be the case that we are only seeing a singular perspective 'from the river' being recounted in Genesis? Thus it is possible that other people are involved in the story of the Fall over a longer period of what we experience as time that we just don't [need] to hear about. Thus we arrive back at my proposition that 'Adam' and 'Eve' are presented to us as literary and theological archetypes of the disobedience that we live under as human beings. Was there a talking snake and a couple of bites out of a piece of fruit? Maybe, maybe not. The devil, in this case, is in the generality, not the particulars."

"Does the bishop know you teach like this?" they said, somewhat incredulously.

"I have no secrets from him, but he hasn't asked. Let me ask you a question, and thus give you another example to chew on of what I am talking about. What is the most important part of this verse? 'And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.' (Genesis 1:31)

The youngest of the guests, somewhat timidly, offered: "God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good"?

"Yes" said Paphnutius, almost exultantly (at least as exultantly as one who has dedicated his life to silence and contemplation can get). "That is exactly the point. Now, tell me this. Is God all powerful?"

"Of course" she replied.

"Can we destroy what He has made?"

She had to think for a while and consult with the others, knowing now that simple, "face-value" answers were not the order of the day with this monk. "I would say, in part, but we cannot undo the universe, if that is what you are asking."

"That is a good insight" replied Paphnutius. "Consider this, then we can break for dinner. You asked me originally about the nature of the Fall in Genesis. We have considered what it means for something to be 'true' in the light of decisions to be taken, realising that what is copied on a page may not be the whole of the story, just the part that we need to see to understand the point of its being recounted, and that, like good literary, visual or musical arts, something need not be literal in order to be true. I will admit that I like to read Homer and Plato for leisure. Does it matter whether Helen of Troy or Socrates were real people, modeled on various personages or completely fictional? No. They 'exist' on the page and in minds and souls of the readers and the author. And they have something to teach us about the quest for beauty and goodness. So, yes, I can confidently say they are 'true' even if they are not literal. But enough about that for now. Whoever, and for whatever duration of time, precipitated the commission of Original Sin, we seem to have teased out that it is not possible for us to completely undo the good work of our heavenly Father. Thus I take severe umbrage at some Christians whose views do much damage to our faith and those who are sincerely trying to follow Christ by insisting on there being strictly a literal, historical, singular meaning to the text [Editorial note: The position given here could thusly be summarised as 'That's all there is and we are seeing it'. Paphnutius' proposition here is that there may indeed be more and we are only seeing a (needful) portion of it.] and who assign terribly tragic consequences to it. I am told they refer to it as 'total depravity' wherein our hearts are described as completely dead and that we  became unable even to will the will to do good in the small, everyday circumstances of our life. Thus do they read this portion of Genesis concluding with 'Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.' (Genesis 3:23) Your instinct, young lady, seems a good one to me. While we can bend and irreparably [for us] maim the pieces, we cannot undo the universe and its occupants whose existence, we are told, is 'very good'.
"Dear Father, that's all well and good, but we're hungry. After the meal, may we know your thoughts on the sacrificial lamb?"

"Of course"

Just then the bell was rung for the common meal that was shared with any guests and, in particular, the poor who presented themselves at table.

"If I were hungry, I would not tell thee: for the world is mine, and the fulness thereof. Will I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?" (Psalm 50: 12,13)

After a fine and satisfying, if not overly opulant meal, Br. Paphnutius and his guests returned to their Socratic dialogue [which, by this time had morphed into more of a monologue, but...]. "We have now arrived at a good place" continued Paphnutius, "to consider how God is."

"But we know that already", said one visitor who had remained silent up until now. "We have the Scriptures and the statement of faith of the Fathers of Nicea."

"We do indeed, and they serve their purpose well. Let's dive on in."

With a raised eyebrow, his latest inquirer asked, "What? Not another river story I hope."

"Not 'what', but 'how' " said Paphnutius with the indication of a smile. "We have been told to call God 'Abba/Father' and that should remind you of the man who raised you. When you disobeyed, did  he ever cut you off completely from the family and its interests?"

"No, of course not."

"In light of that, then, consider this." Paphnutius arose, took a scroll from its place in the clay jar, unrolled it, and read: "If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?...If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." (Lk. 11: 11a,13)

"But the instance in Genesis seems more severe," they retorted.

"Does it indeed? Then consider this." And he unrolled a bit further and continued to read: "A certain man had two sons: And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living." (Lk. 15: 11-12) Paphnutius laid down the scroll and looked about the room. "In his asking for this, does this son not thereby effectively wish his father dead in claiming prematurely what is reserved for him at that time?"

"That seems to be the case."

"Is this a 'severe' enough instance to consider, then?"

They all agreed that it was.

"Then, in light of what he did, consider what becomes of this son." And Paphnutius continued to read: "And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine." (ibid., vs. 14-15)

"Now", said Paphnutius. "Place yourselves in such a position that you are the father who has been dishonoured in such a way. And then imagine that you can see the straightened circumstances into which your child has gotten himself. Is now the time to demand substitutionary sacrifices in order to placate a sense of wrath? Will you then beat your other son senseless in order to 'make up for' what the first has done?"

"Of course not", they all vehemently agreed.

"Think upon, if you will, the 'scapegoat' in Leviticus and the animal sacrifices in the Temple that were an intrinsic part of Judaic worship. What is the purpose in their sacrifice? Do they take our place? Are they being punished? Or does the rite confer a 'sweet-smelling savor' that is consumed in the liturgical offering? If the latter is the case, then that, I contend, is also what the Lamb of God on the Cross is – a liturgical offering, not a penal substitution. The Lord Jesus is consumed in the fires of suffering on the altar of the Cross in the same manner as the first fruits, flesh meat and incense were consumed by the literal fires of the altars in the Temple. The covenant and rites of the Old Testament are now completed for all time, and through His death our archetypal preference for death is now converted back into the 'sweet-smelling savor' of our innocent creation. We are now made new and prepared for life again."

All sat in silence for some time; some pondered, others prayed. Finally, breaking the quiet of the room: "Consider this my friends." And Paphnutius continued to read from the scroll: "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." (ibid., vs. 20)

And he said: "That, my dear fellows, is us. God Himself is so good that He has willed and inspired our turning, our 'arisal' from all eternity. There are many needless things that have been theorised about what it means that we have been atoned for. It is nothing more complicated than this. We have wished for death instead of life. That wish was granted, though that was not what we are made for. The Lord Jesus has Himself arisen from the dead so that we might be able to follow him and do likewise."

The moral of (this part) of the story: Br. Paphnutius hasn't talked this much since we first encountered him. This visit with his guests was more like a Socratic monologue! But hey, they asked! They did, however, pray together both before and after and no one left angry or upset that what they assumed to be right was not necessarily the way that everyone else saw things and that the notion of God's wrath, source of so much anxiety for those on either side of the fence (and everyone in between) perhaps is not the overriding issue that it has come to be in some circles, along with its connexion to an attractiveness of its fulfilling the notion of a "comeuppance" against those who we feel have wronged us or those close to us or those who disagree with our deeply personalised religious notions (whether they bear a semblance to what is good, true and beautiful or not). The beauty of the practice of religion is that it should be taken so personally. The trouble with the practice of religion is that it can be taken so personally. Wisdom lies in seeing the difference.

To be continued...

Easter IV

Job 19: 21-27a     James 1: 17-21     John 16: 5-15

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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