Animal

I am an animal. Yes, I am a human being, but humans are animals. I have physical needs. Some of those needs can and should be fulfilled publicly, socially. Others of them cannot or should not. They are needs in some manner private. Needs are not, however, wants. Wants can be fulfilled or denied, but needs cannot be denied. Physical needs are of the body. Most of them last as long as I am a body, but not all. Physical health depends on the fulfillment of physical needs and is broken when they are denied.

I am a mind. I am an animal that has a mind that has needs. I could say that I am a soul, or that I am a spirit, but then, I would be making declarations of a religious nature. Not everyone could agree with me. But if I say I am a mind, then others can dialog with me, because that is what minds do. That is one of the mental needs. The mind that I am depends on the fact that I am an animal, and so needs in reference to the mind follow physical needs. They cannot be denied without affecting mental health.

We live in society, even when we live alone. It’s impossible for all but a very few human beings to even imagine what living in absolute solitude means. We depend on human society more than on any other single thing to keep us alive. We are social animals. We can no more live solitary than a honeybee can, but every one of us needs to know ourselves and live as beings of greater meaning than that of a honeybee, as useful as it can be. We need to be more than useful to ourselves and to society.

It is being an animal, it is being a mind, it is being more than useful that is addressed in the idea of our right to ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.’ That right is an expression of our undeniable animal and mental needs. In fact to call something a right is no more than to declare it a need, and it must follow, that rights are inalienable, just as needs are undeniable. One cannot be deprived of one’s rights any more than one can deny one’s needs. Do one, you do both, and health and sanity are abandoned.

Human society, when given room by the absence of conflict and the fight for survival, pushes itself in the direction of the fulfillment of human needs and the establishment of human rights, universally. When not given room, fulfillment of needs and exercise of rights become the privilege of the humanly powerful, who distribute them to or withhold them from society at large. This is anti-progressive. Both progressive and repressive societies coexist in the human world, even in the same country or locale.

All that I am describing is the basis of the struggle for civil rights, that is, for human rights as expressed within society. My experience living in America on the cusp of two millennia is that the society I am a member of is progressive. It is a two hundred forty year old social experiment being conducted on an (almost) ‘tabula rasa’ continent. By ‘tabula rasa’ I mean that it has been built in an environment that began relatively free of the remains and effects of two thousand years of social conflict in the old world.

The expansion of civil rights has as its enemy not only the humanly powerful already mentioned but, in this place and time especially, a populace trained by its captors in the ways of ignorance, indolence, and self-indulgence, what in Roman times was called ‘bread and circuses.’ Nevertheless, in the past century and a half, civil rights have been advanced for non-whites, for women, and for homosexual people. It is unfortunate that the religious establishment opposed this advancement every step of the way.

I am an animal. I am a mind. I have needs that cannot be denied. I am also a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ, a member of the Church He founded without binding myself unequivocally to her precepts. ‘Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever’ (Hebrews 13:8), but the Church is human, she is animal, she too has needs. Like me, she must be progressive if she is to live, her changelessness is in her ability, her authority, to change, to keep moving, to keep running after Christ who always ‘goes before.’

Freedom is the goal of every struggle for civil rights. It is the state in which I as an animal can fulfill my needs, and in which every other ‘I’ can be fulfilled. It is, in fact, the end of the Holy Gospel, what salvation looks like in the human world, something not only to be anticipated in ‘the life of the age to come’ or in heaven. It is salvation now, even if it must be stripped of its religious meaning. ‘Therefore, if the Son sets you free, you really will be free’ (John 8:36). His words put our expectations to shame.

‘One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.’ Where do words like these come from? Surely from humanity, from people who know they are animals with minds, that is, with rational souls, who know that they and everyone have needs that cannot be denied, rights that cannot be withheld, personal worth that is more than useful, more than can be measured, weighed, and counted. Surely from animals that know they are creatures, that they are made by Someone, that they are loved.

Your eyes are going to look on a King in His beauty,
they will see an immense country;
your heart will look back on its fears:
where is he who counted,
where is he who weighed out,
where is he who counted the precious stones?
You will no longer see the overweening people,
the people of obscure, unintelligible speech,
of barbarous, senseless tongue.
Look on Zion, City of our feasts…

Isaiah 33:17-20a Jerusalem Bible

Oh so smart

It must be very humbling to have to admit that one of the guiding principles of one’s life came not from the Bible but from a mere movie. And not from a religious movie like The Greatest Story Ever Told or the Ten Commandments, but from a film that maybe few have heard of, and few would consider a ‘religious’ movie, if they had. Of course, that’s because it isn’t a religious movie.

I had never even heard of this film until more than a dozen years ago, when it was suggested to me by an old friend with whom I had worked on and off for twenty years or more. This friend was christened Episcopalian but he rejects that and all churches, and doesn’t even call himself a Christian, but the odd thing is, for the most part he acts like one.

When a childhood friend was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, this friend did not ‘let him slip away’ but instead, as his disease worsened, stepped up the content of his friendship. When the man’s wife, unable to cope with an ‘unusable husband’ abandoned him, got a divorce, and disappeared, this friend I am talking about, well, he did the unthinkable.

By night and day, and every day, he assisted his stricken, abandoned friend, turning his body over in his bed, bathing, feeding, and in general helping him through what would soon be over. Finally—and I don’t know the details, but assume this—the dying man went to a full care facility, because the care he now needed was too constant, and then, according to God’s mercy, he was taken.

Neither my friend, nor the other to whom he was the greatest friend, were or are ‘Christians’, nor sinless, nor perfect, and so ‘religion’ doesn’t know what to do with such people. If pressed to remark, the religious might say anything ranging from pious platitudes, to vague hopes, ‘God have mercy on them,’ all the way to ‘black and white’ pronouncements, ‘no, sorry—unsaved.’

Come Judgment Day, as C. S. Lewis observes, there will be surprises.

Back to the movie that my friend suggested, an old film starring Jimmy Stewart that I’d never seen or heard of before, and ‘black and white,’ but in a different sense, he presented me with a copy and I watched it—once only—and it was enough for me. In this film I encountered in a most unexpected way a truth that is usually missed in religious training, precisely because it’s not religious.

Aside from the plot of this film, these words stood out for me when I first heard them, and they have played out in my life ever since then, every day. ‘Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, “In this world, Elwood, you must be…” she always called me Elwood, “…In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.” Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.’

Now, if any of you are avid movie watchers, especially of the classics, you have probably already guessed that the movie I’m talking about is Harvey. In fact, you probably recognized it from the title of the post, and then of course, the still shot was a dead giveaway. Why do we call things like an obvious hint a ‘dead giveaway’? In this case, for me, this film was a live giveaway, the missing piece that finally explained to me what to do about Jesus.

Yes, believe in Him, of course. Yes, follow Him, if you dare. Yes, go to church, read your bible, pray (if you know how), give to charities, volunteer, make sure your honesty is evident to everyone. That’s how I interpreted Christ’s saying, ‘In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.’ (Matthew 5:16) But what about what He says just a little later? ‘Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.’ (Matthew 6:1) Jesus doesn’t joke around in the gospels. He must be telling us something, but what?

A missing piece, maybe the most important piece, given by surprise where I’d never thought of looking—in a secular movie. But is it secular? And does ‘secular’ only have the meaning we give it because we’ve decided to be religious? In the mind of Christ, which is accessible to us when we do what He tells us, ‘Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’ (Matthew 11:29) If we take upon us His yoke, what is secular? what profane?

The whole world and everyone in it is ‘what God looks like’ (Father Evely), and ‘salvation is with our brothers’ (the Desert Fathers), because ‘whatever you do to the least of these, you do unto Me’ (Jesus). All the religious training, knowledge, theological truths, bible verses, worst of all, all of our opinions about others and certainty of our own salvation, mean nothing if we work against God’s purposes.

What? Who’s working against God’s purposes? Christ says to us no less than to the Pharisees of His time, ‘You shut the kingdom of heaven in men's faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to.’ (Matthew 23:13) And who’s doing that? ‘Surely, not I?’ (Matthew 26:25) Yet, all that Paul says he regards as garbage (Philippians 3, NIV), what we might call his ‘smarts’, he considers trash. What does he consider worthy, then? What does he think is important?

‘…the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith.’
(Philippians 3:9)

It is with this kind of certainty, not the certainty of our own salvation, but the certainty of ‘the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith’ that He sends us out, every day, to find Him in the world. ‘Oh so smart or oh so pleasant’? How does that fit in? It’s hard to put into words, which is why I recommend to you, dear reader, to watch the film yourself, for the first time, or if again, then with new eyes.

Then, see what Elwood means by ‘I recommend pleasant’.

Oh, and look a little deeper,
and maybe you’ll see who ‘Harvey’ actually is.

House Church

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world…

The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

— William Butler Yeats, The Second Coming (1919)

These lines, written in the aftermath of the Great War (1914-1918) could very well have been written as the prologue to the new age in which we live, an age even closer to the Day than any that have passed before. This is probably when the ‘Church Age’ actually ended, though we didn’t notice it at the time. The Jehovah’s Witnesses, living as they always have on the edge of their seats waiting for the Second Coming, declared that it had come, only it was a ‘spiritual’ event in the heavens, whose manifestation would not yet be revealed for some time—so much for false prophecy!

The Church Age has ended?
Well, this is a statement that will have a multitude of meanings for people. What I mean by it is, the age when the Christian Church was at its pinnacle of earthly power and influence, had definitely come to an end. For sure, in many places, down to this very day, the Church Age has not come to an end, though these are local instances of it, some related to sectarian or ethnic bases. In general, however, the Church Age is over. That’s why we can no longer speak of England or America as ‘Christian nations.’ The underlying culture is ‘Christian,’ but what is now built on that foundation is anything but Christian.

Hence, we have churches struggling to find ways to perpetuate themselves as institutions, to regain relevance for their version of Christianity. Some have morphed into reflections of the world with only a thin overlay of selective ‘Christian’ ideology, by this hoping to claim their share of the demographic pie. Others, more at a grass roots level and intending fidelity to what the Bible actually teaches, have snubbed authority structures, denominational labels and history, and organized themselves as house churches. ‘After all, that’s what the early Christians did.’ They do well to fellowship and worship in an environment at once familiar and spiritual. This is, in fact, an appropriate format for the Christian koinonia for an age like ours, but wait—there is more!

The visible Church, “as we see her spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity, terrible as an army with banners” (C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters) is the aggregate result of the fundamental reality of the invisible Church, “an ordinary simple Christian kneels down to say his prayers” (C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity). What we see and experience when we ‘go to church’ is going to be the net result of what we, and everyone else, have invested of our ‘real’ lives, individually and in our families, in the following of Jesus, and in the worship of our heavenly Father ‘in spirit and in truth.’ The witness and ministry of the Church rests squarely on the foundation of the families and individuals that effectively constitute—the house church.

For that’s the real truth about the ‘house church’: it is the Christian family. Even in the first few generations of believers, though a larger group met together at someone’s house, the family that occupied that house was the house church. Larger and wealthier families had larger houses, and those would later evolve into the building for worship that early began to be called a ‘church.’

If today we see churches in disarray, worship services that are not reverent and focused not on God but on the people, should we be surprised? The Roman Catholics turned the altar away from ‘facing East’ toward the Deity, and towards the people, returning the altar to the dinner table it started out as. The concept isn’t wrong per se, but in so doing that community demonstrated that it too had fallen into confusion about what worship is, what fellowship is, and sacrificed the one for the other. This, however, is not the mind of Christ or of the Church. We meet the Lord in both places, at the altar, and in dining together. Each is distinct and proves that Christ is indeed among us, whenever and wherever we gather (it goes without saying) in His name.

Tampering with communal worship is one of the first signs that the house church isn’t really happening, though the need for it remains. The Christian family, as has been received by Orthodox Christians, is the house church, the basic building block of the temple of the living God. It is within the family that God’s Kingdom is taught and learned to be put first, the Word of God honored and given the highest place, the virtues of order and self-discipline practiced and handed over (with the rest of tradition) from the older to the younger generation, and brotherly love firmly planted in every soul.

If there are no house churches, then a non-liturgical Christian assembly tries to create one in its communal life, but it is out-scaled and the efforts result in useless rounds of novelty that satisfy no one and do not please God, who seeks only the salvation of our souls.
If there are no house churches, then a liturgical Christian community, the Orthodox for example, can devolve from an extended family of house churches that lives, prays, ministers, witnesses and worships in spirit and truth, into a mere mechanical performance of now meaningless and irrelevant rituals, and the need which the house church satisfies remains unfulfilled.

The family as house church thus divides all Christians into the haves and have-nots. “I tell you, to everyone who has will be given more; but from the man who has not, even what he has will be taken away” (Luke 19:26 Jerusalem Bible). It all comes down to ‘what are you doing at home?’

When my family first came to the Orthodox Church (we had been evangelical Episcopalians), we were presented a copy of the book Making God Real in the Orthodox Christian Home by Fr Anthony Coniaris. We didn’t have to buy a copy. The Church just gave it to us as part of our ‘welcome package,’ because the idea of house church had to be impressed on us, as on any new Orthodox, right from the beginning. It was a priority then. What our new brethren and priests didn’t know about us, was that we were already living that way, even as Episcopalians. Daily prayer and bible reading as a family, daily instruction, observing the fasts, including the children in every spiritual activity according to their age and capacity. The book they gave us merely reinforced what we already were doing—being a house church.

“Staying over at our house,” warned one of my sons to his friends, “is like sleeping in a church.”

Yet, being a house church is not living in a religious and sanctimonious environment. Discipline, due respect and proper ceremony have their places, but being a house church is not the same as the game we used to play when I was a child, or that I even used to play with my sons when they were very small—having processions, practicing liturgical gestures, etc. We always knew we were ‘just pretending,’ but that’s how becoming a real Christian usually starts out. Children play at what they want to be when they grow up, and so we, like children raising other children, played at being followers of Jesus, so that in the end that’s what we would be—all of us.

But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.
Matthew 6:33 New King James Version

The price of success

What the world considers, what it holds up to be, success, is almost never the real thing. When I say ‘the world’ I don’t mean only what Christians and others call ‘the world’ and consider an enemy to their values. No, because ‘the world’ can operate from any location, including inside the walls of the Church. It operates for sure inside the hearts and minds of many who call themselves Christians. But my object is not to call out and judge others. The great divide between ‘the world’ and the Kingdom of God cuts right through the middle of every man, woman and child. What I want to say is only, what is trumpeted as success is often a cover for unacknowledged failure.

In fact, failure is the price that must be paid for success, that is, in every worldly endeavor, and perhaps in a somewhat different sense, even in every spiritual endeavor. The Lord has not called us to be successful, but to be faithful. To be faithful means to be obedient as well as trusting in the Lord. What we often find when pursuing success is that when we achieve it, we have lost something incomparably more valuable. Ask any rich man who can no longer sit still, or even sleep, for bombardment of covetous thoughts. Christ teaches, but who listens? ‘For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’ (Mark 8:36).

Brother Giles of Assisi, a close companion of St Francis, tries to ward off spiritual materialism from us. ‘If you want to see well, pluck out your eyes and be blind. If you want to hear well, be deaf. If you want to walk well, cut off your feet. If you want to work well, cut off your hands. If you want to love well, hate yourself. If you want to live well, die to yourself. If you want to make a good profit, know how to lose.’ It’s obvious from his latter utterances that he is not speaking of literally cutting off one’s hands or feet. I think he is counseling us to make nothing of our own our goal, because in the end, it becomes our god. True success is not to be gauged by what we do, but by what God does for us.

An example from life. An inventor starts a small company to manufacture an innovative product. He is baffled by his first successes, because he is unconsciously humble, but they give him a deserved measure of confidence to continue, and he does. Cautiously he grows his company. He deals honestly, generously and caringly for all his little group of employees, treating them as if family. He treats his customers trustingly and does business on a handshake. Nothing goes wrong. He is successful, and for awhile he is just happy, not thinking of it so much as ‘success’ but as a reward for his efforts. He promises his employees, ‘This will remain a small company, making quality products.’

Not long after, he gets a bug in his ear. His employees notice a change. He seems to be following an unseen star, and with a passion that begins to poison his relationships. He pretends that nothing has changed. He begins shutting out the very people with whom he started this endeavor, and then a pattern of abuse and compensatory periodic generosity emerges. Forgetting his promise, he grows the company beyond all recognition, quality is sacrificed along with loyal employees whom he can no longer stand. He has realized that he wasn’t successful before, that he was too personal with his employees and too trusting with his customers. Success, he thinks, has eluded him. He wants to win.

Years pass. He’s finally a success in his own eyes. He’s banished all thought of failure. His company has survived several recessions, and a few lawsuits. His products are known, sold, and used all over the world. He feels his success deeply, though he no longer has anyone to thank for it, but himself. He has learned a whole new set of behaviors to which he once was almost a stranger. He doesn’t consider his duplicity a fault, his greed a disease, or his occasional bursts of largesse a camouflage. He is on top of the world. His original invention has gone to the sidelines, but he’s lured new recruits to work for him catching bigger fish to fry. He’s proven that failure is the price of success, without knowing it.

Returning to wisdom, the psalmist says it in even more gruesome terms, ‘Man in his prosperity forfeits intelligence. He is one with the cattle doomed to slaughter’ (Psalm 49:20), but there is no need for us to join that herd. Don’t try to be successful, rather ‘seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,’ says Jesus, ‘and all these other things will be added to you as well’ (Matthew 6:33), and Solomon adds, ‘for He provides for His beloved as they sleep’ (Psalm 127:2 Jerusalem Bible).

That old, beautiful road

Yes, it’s still that old road,
that old, beautiful road.

The bloom of spiritual youth,
when joy came readily
and spontaneously,
like the rain-downed blossoms
on my now bare magnolia tree,
only a memory to be trodden underfoot,
taunting now with temptation to failed faith,
is like a mirage
sighted only by looking back,
and a mirage at that,
for the world of the past,
as Christ Himself promises,
is gone,
and only the present moment,
dry as a potsherd,
is real.

Yes, promises,
for Christ does not grant us
what we think we need at the wrong time,
but waits more patiently than the universe
for the son of God in us
to be revealed,
as He walks with us,
yes, with each and every one of us,
prying open the ears of our hearts with His parables,
as He, resurrected, accompanies us
down that old road,
that old, beautiful road
first planted with His teachings
and paved with His tears.

Yes, beautiful,
and very, very old, that road
which leads from the disobediently disappled tree,
past the preventing angels,
passing through ambushes
of envious and vengeful devils whose lies
stretched taut and almost invisible
would trip us,
which proves itself the path of no turning back
and impels us forward
into whose galloping arms,
nailed as branches,
we realize only as we gasp our last,
is what He promised.

Yes, it’s still that old road,
that old, beautiful road.

Days and nights,
joys and sorrows,
exaltation and near despair,
casting their lights and shadows across that road,
they do not help or hinder,
do not speed or slow our progress
as we walk in tandem with our invisible Lord,
made visible in our pressing on,
in our tearful, even anguished endurance,
as we
saddled with silence
pursue His words promising us life.

‘Will you also abandon me?’
it seems we ask Him, though it is He who asks,
and coming to ourselves
after a night of sleepless struggle,
we rejoin Him
on that old road,
that old, beautiful road,
and relieve ourselves of all doubt
as we tell Him,
‘To whom would I go,
since You alone have the words of eternal life,’

And that is enough,
it has to be enough,
for that is all truth, all beauty, and saves all the world.

Yes, beloved brethren,
it’s still that old, beautiful road.

— Romanós

Worship

This is an important topic, even today, even for people who are not religious, who don't even believe in God. The word itself is related to another word that people use a little more often—worthy. Worship has been explained as the movement of the mind, heart and will, the whole person really, to acknowledge something or someone as worthy. Is it an accident that the Greek words for ‘worthy’ and ‘holy’ are so similar? Axios, worthy, and Agios, holy. Perhaps not.

What we regard as worthy, we worship. Well, maybe not exactly, but almost. I remember as a young man, I was being trained in the operation of some sophisticated woodworking machinery—I was a cabinetmaker by trade—which my company had purchased in Germany at a trade show. The German company shipped the machines to us, and also a couple of men, one to install the machines for us, and later, another older man to train us in the operation of them.

Neither of these men spoke English, but I spoke German fluently, so it was my job to assist them and meanwhile learn from them all I could about the machines, in order to operate and maintain them, and teach others how to use them. The older of the two men was a very wise and intelligent mentor on many levels. I would bring him home with me to have supper with us each night. Before he left, I thanked him, and tried my best to let him know how much I appreciated him as a mentor.

‘Ich verehre Sie,’ I told him, using what I thought was the word for respect and honor. ‘Nee, nee, nee! Nicht verehren! Nur ehren, vielleicht!’ he responded emphatically but with a smile. ‘No, no, no, not adore, but maybe honor!’ Since that time my command of the language has improved, I know that adding ver- to a verb intensifies its meaning. How silly I felt at the time. I made a mistake out of ignorance, but many, including myself sometimes, make a similar mistake. We worship or adore what may only be honored or appreciated.

Here’s some Greek now. Eis Agios, eis Kyrios, Yisus Christos eis dhoxan Theou Patros. ‘One [is] Holy, One [is] Lord, Jesus Christ in [the] glory of God [the] Father.’ This is sung at every Orthodox liturgy, as a reminder to the faithful who or what is alone, not only Holy, but also worthy. Here's that similarity between the two words I pointed out earlier. We can speak of only One Holy, that is, God, and as for the rest of us, by His grace, we become worthy. He adds the ‘s’ from Sotiría, ‘salvation,’ to the word Agios, ‘holy,’ and calls us that, Axios, ‘worthy.’

Now here’s some Hebrew. Something like that happened to Abram and Sarai in the book of Genesis. After meeting with them, and blessing them with the promise of a child, the Lord changed their names, by adding a letter from the Divine Name YHWH to each of their names. Adding an ‘h’ to Abram, the name Abraham was formed. Adding an ‘h’ to Sarai, we have Sarah. The meaning of their new names? ‘Father of multitudes’ and ‘Princess.’ The Divine Nature never lets you go without taking away far more than you came with. Hence, we never approach without an offering.

That is worship.

It's worth a try

Who, what, whether

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal… 
1 Corinthians 13:1

Who it is that we love, or what we love, or whether we love at all, this is what is revealed about us at the judgment. This is a scary thought. We may love one person in public, another in private. The same with belongings, with things, we may love one set openly, another set in secret. We can’t even be sure whether we love at all. Our vision is clouded by a self-ignorance that we think is knowing ourselves, but it is a veil covering our eyes. If we see at all, it is truly as through a glass darkly. Neither are we born loving. We must be taught how to love, but we cannot be taught if we reject the Teacher.

Life in the world can experience love and recognize it when it sees it, but it cannot accumulate it, cannot practice it, can only imitate it, unsuccessfully. To save face the failure or absence of love is still called love. Pious pretence replaces reality until a numbness sets in. Then real love is no longer recognized, or believed in, or wanted. This is the path of life in the world. Not all drugs are chemical in nature.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus… 
1 John 4:16-17

The direction of the Christian’s life is Godward. At first, we love little but speak love much. We defend ourselves from what we think is contrary to love. If we are going in the right direction, we love more and speak love less. We start out wanting to be loved, and end up wanting to love.

Our human nature changes. From being defensive, we move on to being defenseless. From proving and justifying ourselves, we move on to becoming the proof and justification of love. As we journey towards the judgment of our souls, we retreat from the judgment of others. Our love becomes transparent to others and invisible to ourselves. We are aware of only one thing, one being, the beloved. With the bride we exclaim,

Draw me in your footsteps. Let us run… 
Song of Songs 1:4

Yes, whom we have truly loved will be seen at the scrutiny of souls. The undiscovered, unfaithful spouse will be exposed, and also revealed will be the one accused, yet innocent. Time will be rolled back in a split second to show us what we have wasted, and what kept us divided, hating. It was next to nothing, but nothing can be very powerful when we feed it, while greed shrivels the soul.

As we move toward the beginning of the good news, brethren, let us love one another, and casting aside all thought of justice, cast ourselves defenseless into the sea of God’s mercy, so that all can be cleansed, healed, refreshed, and enlightened by the God who is love.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails… 
1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Crying out

Last Judgment, by James Janknegt

The Lord said, “When the Son of man comes in his glory and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’ And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

The Gospel of Matthew 25:31-46

Today is the Lord’s Day of the Last Judgment. We are getting very close now to the Forty Days (Sarakostí) of what we like to call the Great Fast, or ‘Great and Holy Lent,’ a time period when we are encouraged to fast, pray, and give alms. To the followers of Jesus, this ‘special’ season is hardly more than a speed bump on the street they’re already driving down towards their destination. To the devout churchables, this is the season we’ve all been waiting for, when we can quietly concentrate on self-purification through our austerities and acts of charity, and get ourselves ready to meet the Lord when He resurrects at Holy Pascha, or Easter, if you don’t mind calling it by its ordinary name.

Today, we eat our last hamburger or steak, and look forward to a week of cheese pizza, macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese sandwiches. Yes, eat up all that yogurt in the fridge, drink all that milk, butter your toast on both sides, and don’t forget to gobble up the rest of that ice cream in the freezer. Stomach, get ready for rice and beans, rice and lentils, rice and veggies. And, unless you’re already on a tofu diet like me (because I just like tofu), you may be getting very acquainted with that meat and milk substitute in many of its forms. Ah, how good a bowl of cheerios tastes with vanilla soy milk!

Today we hear a gospel message straight from Messiah’s mouth that, had he never said another word, would still put us all to shame, make us forget our doctrinal disputes and dogmatic wars, eschew our schisms for fear that we might separate ourselves ahead of time and find ourselves with the goats instead of the sheep—that is, if we really listened to it. We’ve certainly had enough chances to hear it, understand it, and change our beliefs and behaviors to conform to it. We give it the amount of attention we think it deserves, and then go off to do the really important stuff on our lists.

Proving myself humble rather than proud, I ask the prayers of the brethren, that my sinful soul may nevertheless be saved. I quote the Desert Fathers to bolster my self-image of pious, though ignorant Christian country bumpkin, ‘Who the sheep are, God knows, but the goats are such as I.’ Meanwhile, hidden like a nest of earwigs incubating under a damp rock, my little kingdom of self still serves me, not God, who gave me that rock to stand on, not hide under. I hear these gospel words of the only True Man that ever lived, and still lives, even in me if I would only abandon all and follow Him, crying out,

Stay with me awhile, Lord. Give me some time to repent. Teach me how to unclothe myself so I can wear Your skin. Gently steer me into the road not taken by the multitude and, most importantly, by me. Show me the secret of unhousing myself, so I may dwell in Your house, in that mansion You made for me in the House of Your Father. ‘Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. Speak but the word, and my servant shall be healed,’ yes, Lord, that my servant self should be free of its mortal wounds, and in Your immortal wounds, find peace and safety. Lord, have mercy, and save me.

Sunday of the Last Judgment

‘On the western wall of the Kiev Cathedral of St. Vladimir, remarkable for its murals, right over the entrance to the church is a wonderful representation of the Last Judgment. First of all, we are struck by the mass of people, their faces, eyes, and you have the vivid awareness that you are among them. Involuntarily, you try to find yourself, to determine your place according to your spiritual state. And within you occurs, as it were, a private judgment upon yourself. There are faces expressing terrible sorrow, a totally perished life trembles in them. There are others, full of malice, hatred, murmuring, envy, insatiable desires. Life passed on, but something is gnawing at them and will eternally gnaw at them.

‘But here, rays of light start to break their way through the enormous clouds, and they show us other faces: quiet, calm, joyful, happy. This is life! And the closer they are to the Throne, the more clear these faces are. And over the Throne shines the Cross. On the Throne is seated the Lord Savior of the world Himself, and around Him, John the Baptist, The Apostles, all the Saints are praying, triumphing. Here is harmonious rejoicing. Only one cry, one wail disturbs it. The Mother of God has fallen on the shoulder of Christ, and she alone is pleading for the salvation of sinners, for mercy for all those without hope…’

Receiving in an email from my dear sister in Christ, Presvytera Candace of Anchorage, Alaska, a meditation on the Last Judgment (by her cousin, Fr Demetrios Carellas), along with a remarkable image portraying it, I was encouraged to go online and look for a larger example of it.

In the process I found at least one other image that I also found remarkable. The original image I was seeking is above. The other one I found is at the end of this post.

What distinguishes the ikonography in the Ukrainian cathedral church of St Vladimir in Kiev (right) is that it is not Byzantine but naturalistic. The artist is Viktor Vasnetsov, of the revivalist school, a painter of historical paintings. The realism of his paintings in this cathedral is, to me, very startling.

In the second image, the Christ child looks more lively and ‘for real’ than I have ever seen Him anywhere, and not in a bad way. We can never get enough testimony regarding the manhood of Jesus Christ. The hero-worshiping spirit of the old man has to be constantly corrected by the matter-of-fact spirit of the new man in Christ:
God became man. Accept that fact. It will make it so much easier for you in the long run. You can't be more spiritual than God.

Here's the other image I found, a detail of the platytera in the cathedral at Kiev, the wall above the altar, always reserved for images of Christ in the arms of His mother. Who wouldn't want to receive the blessing of this Baby?

From darkness to Light

I live on a planet called ‘earth,’ but it might as well be called ‘judgment world.’ I am racking my brain to come up with spectacular sins to confess to my priest to fulfill the unwritten obligation to endure the mystery of repentance at least four times yearly during the great fasts. Why is it so hard to confess our own sins, when we can hardly refrain from confessing the sins of others by the minute?

So, a president is photographed being jolly and cell phone snapping a shot at a memorial service. Meanwhile, his wife stares straight ahead with what looks like an attitude of studied disapproval. Who took that photo, I wonder, instead of being solemn and respectful? It seems we are all citizens of ‘judgment world.’

While I was preparing to reenter the Church as an adult Christian, though still on the sidelines looking in, the first Orthodox priest I ever knew said to me, ‘Try not to pass judgment on others, because that’s not your job. That’s what Christ will do when He returns, so let’s not take His job away from Him.’ I knew Father Ihor wasn’t kidding, and I never forgot what he said. In trying to follow his advice, I have found it not very easy, especially when everyone around you is doing it—judging, I mean. Almost as a survival tactic, you start doing it too, just so you don’t fall behind. Then, in a moment of calmness and clarity—which will happen if you pause a moment to catch your breath—you realize with horror what you’ve been doing and cry, ‘Lord, have mercy!’ and, perhaps just a little later, you’re back to judging again, even if it’s only yourself.

We know the scriptures so well that we become inattentive, and in our mental looms sometimes false weavings are weft. We hear ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ and as soon as the commandment courses through our bodies with our lifeblood, it is contaminated by the ‘food’ we eat—what we see, hear and unthinkingly enact every day—it morphs into its very opposite, ‘judge your neighbor as yourself,’ and we find ourselves obeying a very different commandment.

Yes, we do judge ourselves, with mercy, and think we are being disciplined harshly. But if our neighbor ‘helps’ us, we rebuff his rebuke even if well-intentioned—are any really so?—feeling slighted, insulted, condemned, and so we judge him back. After all, ‘even steven.’ Yes, we’re all guilty, hands down.

This is life on planet earth, the ‘judgment world.’ If we had no other sin to confess, this one would be enough. That’s exactly why I lazily confess that ‘I am a sinner,’ and why I ask your prayers ‘for Romanós the sinner.’

What? Did I kill anyone? Did I steal? Did I lie? Did I commit adultery? Did I not honor my parents? Did I take the Lord’s name in vain, worship idols made by hand or, even worse, have different gods before Him? Well, answering the previous probes, I might have to say ‘yes, and no,’ and leave it to the questioner to guess which of the eight I have transgressed. Better yet, go ask my enemies, if I have any. Enemies always tell the truth—from their point of view. Really, though, my worst enemy—or my best—is myself, or he would be if he weren’t too shy to fess up to his—I mean, my—shenanigans.

At least I don’t work on Sunday, and I don’t covet. Those two of the Ten I accidentally left out. Was it a Freudian slip? Nobody works on the Sabbath unless they have to, and therefore, it isn’t their fault. Even the Church excuses us in this case, as long as we try our best to make it up during the week. We think that it’s enough just to make an appearance, maybe light a candle, kiss an ikon, and skip out. After all, we’re with Christ ‘twenty-four seven’ wherever we are, right? There’s no escape. As for coveting, like everyone I know I have everything I need already, so why should I want more? Besides, ‘there’s no pockets in a shroud’ and, speaking of ‘judgment world,’ we know that ‘whoever has the biggest part has the worst part.’ That’s what the saints say anyway, and I’m with them (I hope!).

Yes, we do indeed live on a planet called ‘earth,’ and whether we believe it or not, it really is a ‘judgment world.’ We’ve been sent here, deliberately, not to work off our bad karma or to attain enlightenment, but to learn to speak God’s language. Judgment is the language of this world that we pick up in infancy and speak for the rest of our lives unless, unless we are drawn to the learning of the language of God and of the age to come, and that language is silence. Learning His language we pass from judgment to mercy, and from mercy to glory, and finally and forever, from darkness to Light.

Inherent righteousness

Chafing at the fact that some people take payment for doing nearly nothing, while others work day and night for barely a pittance, I marvel at the mystery—not of pain or evil, but of patience. Some people ask, ‘If there is a God and if he is good, why is there so much pain and suffering in the world?’ But I ask, not if there is a God, but, ‘How can He be so patient with us? and how can we be so patient with Him?’

Preachers and prophets warn us and reveal our transgressions and sins against righteousness, but we don’t listen. We let their words tickle our ears and, if we apply them at all, we apply them to others, not to ourselves. We feel put out that anyone should have the nerve to tell us we’re not righteous, not good, not going the right way. We excuse ourselves a hundred times for each time we excuse the faults of others.

Though we don’t even know what righteousness is, we’re experts at tormenting others, and even ourselves. We call it ‘guilt tripping.’
(Usually former) Catholics often tell me that they’re very good at it. They tell me they learned how to do it at church. This could be true of anyone who had a fussy, scolding mother when they were growing up. Too bad ‘Holy Mother Church’ is often ‘wholly step-mother church’.

Yet, righteousness is inherent in reality. It’s nothing other than ‘how things work.’ It’s not a system of morality imposed from the outside, either by a god or by ourselves. When we go against our nature—because unlike irrational creatures, we can—we set into motion series of events that deviate from this inherent righteousness and lock us in, passengers comfortably seated on a train that soon or late plunges into an abyss. Why? Because there is no bridge, and we didn't know.

If there is a God, why did he make such a dangerous place and put us in it? So he could arrange a rescue and make himself look good? Is he just a boy playing with us, his toy soldiers? Why didn’t he make a level playing field with limitless possibilities, since he knew he’d be making creatures like us who’d want to try everything without restraint? If we can’t be righteous the way we are, neither can God!

There simply is no answer to this dilemma, so it seems. That’s just the nature of reality. The scientist can’t argue with physical constants when they won’t do what he wants them to, and he can’t negate them with impunity. Neither can the mathematician get around the multiplication table when it suits him: it’s absolute and inflexible. He’ll never come up with the correct product if he ignores it. Ours is a hard universe.

Whatever it is we are—call it human—this inherent righteousness is as necessary to us and as inseparable from us as our own bodies. It’s as indispensable as the time and space we inhabit. It’s an inalienable part of our nature. In alignment with it, that nature fulfills itself, is successful, and endures. In opposition to it, that nature is stifled, malfunctions, and freezes. This is exactly not the problem with God. It is the problem with us.

Where now are the accusers of a cruel and judgmental God? On the contrary, He does everything He can to help us recover our course when we get off track. When, not if. Inherent righteousness is not an issue of crime and punishment, but one of sickness and death. Sin is to turn against nature, to effect a lasting state of suicide of the soul. ‘I’ve come not for the righteous, but for sinners, not for the healthy, but for the sick.’

He builds a house, gives it to us, and tells us to maintain it. He gives us bodies, instructs us in the ways of cleanliness and health, and expects us to follow His instructions. For the world to exist at all, it must be what it is. Inherent righteousness is its nature. We can call it whatever we please—His law, His statutes, His decrees, if we are speaking theologically, natural law if we are speaking scientifically. It’s all one.

In the second year of Darius, in the eighth month, the word of Yahweh was addressed to the prophet Zechariah, son of Berechiah, son of Iddo, as follows, ‘Cry out to the remnant of this people and say to them, Yahweh Sabaoth says this: Return to Me, and I will return to you, says Yahweh Sabaoth.’

Zechariah 1:1-3 Jerusalem Bible

You cannot be too gentle

You cannot be too gentle, too kind.
Shun even to appear harsh in your treatment of each other.
Joy, radiant joy, streams from the face of him who gives and kindles joy in the heart of him who receives.
All condemnation is from the devil.
Never condemn each other…
Instead of condemning others, strive to reach inner peace.
Keep silent, refrain from judgment.
This will raise you above the deadly arrows of slander, insult, and outrage and will shield your glowing hearts against all evil.

— Seraphim of Sarov

We don’t have the truth

Something in man cries out to be heard, to be recognized, to be known and to be loved. What else can this be, if not the soul? What else can be the source of this longing? What else, this demand for meaning? Yes, ‘soul’ is too imprecise, has no shape, even asks itself constantly ‘What am I? Am I spirit, or life force, or blood? What am I?’ Perhaps ‘heart’ is better, because though the soul is shapeless, invisible, we can see the heart, or at least the organ that seems to be where it is tabernacled. Whatever else it is, this something in man wears the face of desire, but until the Desired reveals itself, it knows not why it is.

The Voice is heard first, but it is not seen. It calls incessantly. It commands obedience, while holding out promises. ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing…’ (Genesis 12:1-2). To obey brings not blessings but calamity, not ease but hardship, not safety but danger. Man hears the Voice and all at once the something in him that cries out to be heard, recognized, known and loved, senses that what it seeks is somehow enfolded in the Voice.
He obeys.

The Sign is seen first, and again the Voice is heard. The Voice and the Sign are one. There was the Bush blazing, but it was not being burned up. ‘I must go and look at this strange sight’ (Exodus 3:2-3). Something in man wears the face of desire and now begins to understand that ‘face desires to look upon Face.’ He asks, ‘Show me your glory, I beg you’ (Exodus 33:18). The Voice says, ‘not yet,’ but relents. ‘I will let all my splendor pass in front of you, and I will pronounce before you the name…’ and then, ‘You cannot see my face, for man cannot see me and live’ (Exodus 33:19-20).

The Voice again relents. Something in man cries out, and draws compassion to itself, and the Voice in yielding reveals more than it intended. ‘Here is a place beside me. You must stand on the rock, and when my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock and shield you with my hand as I pass by. Then I will take my hand away and you shall see the back of me; but my face is not to be seen’ (Exodus 33:21-23). The Sign is alive, not only does it not consume what it burns, but as it burns it feeds. ‘He laid no hand on these notables… They ate and they drank’ (Exodus 24:11).

The Voice and the Sign are heard and seen by many in diverse places and times, calling, commanding, promising, protecting, saving and delivering, but something in man is still not satisfied with hearing and seeing. The face of desire will not let itself be unfulfilled, for ‘face desires to look upon Face.’ Until that moment, something in man still fears, it all could be just a beautiful dream. It cries, ‘Oh, that you would tear the heavens open and come down—at your Presence the mountains would melt, as fire sets brushwood alight, as fire causes water to boil—to make known your name to your enemies, and make the nations tremble at your Presence, working unexpected miracles such as no one has ever heard of before. No ear has heard, no eye has seen, any god but you act like this…’ (Isaiah 64:1-3).

Now the Sign is seen alone. ‘It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Emmanuel’ (Isaiah 7:14). Then Voice and Sign and Son appear together. ‘No sooner had he come up out of the water than he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit, like a dove, descending on him. And a voice came from heaven, You are my Son, the Beloved, my favor rests on you’ (Mark 1:10-11). Something in man cries out to be heard, to be recognized, to be known and to be loved. Something in man wears the face of desire and finally knows that ‘Face desires to look upon face.’

That which is in us crying out, no longer to guess, no longer to doubt, no longer to only believe or hope, runs after the one it has long desired, ‘Rabbi, where do you live?’ and hears, ‘Come and see,’ already so sure. ‘We have found the Messiah’ (John 1:38-39, 41). To this something in man wearing the face of desire, the Desired reveals himself, knowing why he is. ‘To have seen me is to have seen the Father…’ (John 14:9), and ‘I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one can come to the Father except through me. If you know me, you know the Father too. From this moment you know him and have seen him’ (John 14:6-7).

We don’t need, we don’t want, mere theories, thoughts, formulas, dissertations, dry words which satisfy no thirsty soul, no hungry heart. ‘Whoever drinks this water will get thirsty again; but anyone who drinks the water that I shall give will never be thirsty again’ (John 4:13-14). ‘Your fathers ate the manna in the desert and they are dead; but this is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that a man might eat it and not die’ (John 6:49-50). We want the living One, now that He has arrived, in whom we were hidden when the splendor passed by. ‘Show us the light of your face, turned toward us!’ (Psalm 4:6)

Brothers, we are the most fortunate of men, for that which cries out in us has been answered, not by fellow creatures lulling us to a wishful peace, quieting our cry with soothing untruthful words. That which cries out in us has been met not by mere words, but by the Word Himself, appearing in human form, in whose Image we are made, who was enfolded in the Voice, who burning did not consume in the Sign, and who in the Son showed us the Face that longed to look upon our faces, who loved us before we loved Him, whose desire for us begat our desire for Him.

Brothers, we don’t have the truth. The Truth has us.

Let us be yours

The ‘prosperity gospel’ and ‘Christianity as a self-improvement regimen’ make their home in the minds of many Christians of all denominations, even the Orthodox Church. And how can they not? The Church, like the world, is full of humans, those inside just as fallen as those outside, and both sides polishing themselves to shiny splendor, even when sincerely serving the Lord, or serving Mammon. Well did the Lord’s brother, James, write to admonish us not to make distinctions between classes and types of people. ‘Don’t say to the rich man, “Here’s a nice seat next to me up front,” and to the poor man, “You can sit down there at my feet,”’ but perhaps he writes us in vain, for we have learned to observe the letter and escape the meaning. We rather pursue our own interest, even when we condescend to sit near or speak to our obvious social inferiors.

But the Church is forgiveness incarnate. We start by forgiving ourselves even while we are unashamed to parade our wealth, race, learning or good looks before others to impress, entice, humiliate or shame those whom we feel obligated to be ‘nice’ to because Christ said so. Then we forgive them who haven’t made it in life like we have, you know, the failures. I know how it is because I myself am a failed human. I tried my best to follow Christ and become what these others are, righteous, rich, learned, successful, happily married, brimming over with grandchildren, with degrees in the family from Princeton or Yale. It didn’t work for me, but I haven’t given up. I still try my best to follow Christ, only now I know, it isn’t so that I can be crowned on earth. Thankful am I to God for His great mercy in letting me know His Son and the Holy Church He has established. ‘Seek first the Kingdom of God…’

The blessing of God can be the blessings listed in the Bible, in Psalms and elsewhere. It can also be a secret blessing. ‘What kind of blessing is that,’ you ask, ‘if others don’t see it?’ What is the point of being blessed, or for Pete’s sake, even saved, if you can’t boast about it in one way or another? But that is not the kind of boasting that God wants. ‘What! Does He want us to boast? Great! Then let Him bless me more, and I will boast for all I’m worth!’ I don’t know, but the things that I’ve heard the apostle Paul say he boasts about, are not the kinds of things I mentioned above, that the ‘successful’ Christian thinks are his trump card. I knew there was a reason that Second Corinthians is my favorite Pauline epistle. ‘If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness’ (2 Corinthians 11:30). For me, that’s an easy task. Maybe not so for some of the others. It must be hard being so strong.

‘The poor you will have with you always. You won’t always have Me,’ says the Lord Jesus Christ, justifying the wasting of human resources on His person, or is there more to His intention? For He also says, ‘Whatsoever you do to the least of these, that you do unto Me,’ and, ‘Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.’ What a confusing Jesus! No wonder people get perplexed with His sayings, and move on to seek truth among gurus they can understand, teachers who don’t ask for much, but deliver plenty. So we have it, from the beginning of the Church’s life up till now. Humanity in the rough, unchangeable because we don’t really want to be changed, satisfied to continue as we are because ‘grace has been given, the price has been paid,’ so we can forget to repent, or better yet, repent of imaginary sin to satisfy custom, because we don’t really believe we sin at all.

I wonder if we ever think of what we look like to the world that actually sees us. Perhaps we think of that too much, as we try to keep up appearances with it, to fit in nicely while we still retain God’s favor by church attendance and other pious works. If we belong to a sect or fellowship, we make sure our witness to the world conforms to righteousness, because ‘a city set on a hill cannot be hid,’ and we don’t want to be the cause of the world’s damnation. We show just the right amount of disdain for the world and its filthy practices, so they can see the benefits of following Jesus from our ‘straight and narrow’ lifestyle. If we belong to ‘the Church’ it’s really quite enough to let others know this about us, and come a-running, in our direction, of course, since we have the true faith. We don’t even have to open our mouths, really. Our fasting, bowing, babushkas and beards tell it all.

Lord, help us! 
You descended into Hades to loose the bonds of those who were chained. 
You trampled down death by death. 
You emptied the tombs. 
Call us, Lord! 
Call us out, by name, as You called out Lazarus. 
Let us truly obey You, truly follow You. 
Save us, Lord! 
Let us be Yours.

Be perfect, therefore

Sometimes it takes a lifetime before an obvious truth that we have somehow not recognized before starts staring us unflinchingly in the face. Unnerving, to say the least, but it wasn’t at first. No, at first, when I finally noticed it, it seemed an interesting and very novel discovery, and I made capital of it in my thinking and writing. It seemed no one around me had noticed this truth either, but once you see it, you wonder how it could’ve eluded you so long. At least, that’s what you might think if you haven’t already filed it in a mental ‘to do’ list, I mean, buried it, since most of the items on my ‘to do’ list usually fade out on their own because of neglect.

What truth am I referring to? Well, in my own words it is this: For a human being, to be ‘perfect’ does not mean to be morally perfect, in other words, ‘he never does anything wrong.’ Instead, it means to look upon everyone, and probably everything, and to love everyone (I won’t say probably love everything) with an equal and impartial eye. Now, what’s so obvious about this truth? And what makes me think it is true in the first place? Well, I am a Christian, which means I believe in, and try to follow, Jesus of Nazareth, the Jewish rabbi who was proven to be more than a mere human being by his death on a cross and his resurrection from the dead.

There is a curious passage in the gospels where Christ, that is, Jesus of Nazareth, actually commands his followers to be perfect. He says, ‘Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.’ It seems, everyone remembers this verse, but very few remember or meditate on the preceding words, to which Christ draws our attention by his word ‘therefore.’ Being left alone with the ‘Be perfect’ command causes us to fall into some very unfortunate misconceptions, unless we think of Christ’s words as just a suggestion and not a command. In that case, they’re only an interesting proposition to be bantered about without really wanting to know what he means.

When we believe in Jesus Christ and ‘take the Bible at its word’ can we be blamed if we think that he means what he says, that he is asking us to do, and be, the impossible, and resign ourselves to confessing we’re just sinners, unworthy, incapable of living a gospel life, capping it all off with a commitment to go to church regularly and repeat ‘Lord, have mercy!’ endless times to make up for it? But this is, in fact, what most of us do, again, thinking this thought somewhere in the back of our minds, ‘I am a sinner. I can’t be perfect. Only God can be perfect. But I can at least believe. I can have faith that Christ will save me in spite of myself. Now I’m safe, right?’ Meanwhile… 

The obvious truth didn’t take long to discover, except that I never really paid attention to the first part of Christ’s words. ‘You have heard that it was said, “Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?’ Well, yes, I’ve read and heard this before…

‘Well, knucklehead,’ I berated myself one day, ‘why don’t you get it? Why are you still judging? Why are you still drawing distinctions between classes of people? It doesn’t matter if the people themselves help you by classifying themselves as this or that, so that you can respond by judging them more precisely, and sorting them into sheep and goats. And even if the classifications were true, that only gives you more reason to subvert them by practicing the unconditional love that is shown by God, you know, the One that Jesus calls his Father? Take another look at what Christ says about being perfect, and stop making excuses. Perfection is not about being good or bad.’

‘What? Perfection is not about being good or bad? You mean I’ve wasted all these years trying to be good, and it doesn’t really matter?’ That’s every man’s reaction to the good news. We can’t help it. It’s our nature. The only God there is appears and he isn’t what we expected. We want him to be just like us. From another angle, it’s just this: Jesus Christ comes to turn all our worlds up-side-down, but we keep turning them right-side-up again as soon as we think his back is turned. We think we can call people whom we approve of ‘good,’ but we’d never, or very rarely, risk calling anyone ‘perfect.’ ‘Nobody’s perfect,’ we like to say, usually in reference to ourselves.

And that’s not what Jesus does. In fact he doesn’t even call himself good, nor does he let others do so. When they try, he as much as says, ‘Don’t call me good. No one is good except God,’ throwing his religious hearers off their chosen roads. No one can be called ‘good’ but God, but if we take his command to be perfect seriously, we can be called ‘perfect.’ Even the apostle Paul refers to this when he says, ‘We who are called “perfect” must all think in this way.’ What way? Well, go back and read all of his epistles, starting with Philippians if you like, for that’s the one I’ve just quoted him from. The gospels point the way. The epistles of Paul put us on it, if we want to go.

So we can be ‘perfect’ but not ‘good.’ I should say that seems a fair bargain. We’ve been let off the hook, then, is that right? To be perfect doesn’t mean to be righteous, to be morally perfect? We just have to love everyone indiscriminately, without judging them? And treating them impartially? If we do that, we can get away with any fantasy we desire? Nothing is morally wrong, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone? Well, yes and no. Since Christ’s command to be ‘perfect’ isn’t addressed only to Christians (there weren’t any yet) but to all men, believers and unbelievers, it can be called universal. In fact, deep inside, everyone knows it’s true. ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

For those who believe in God and accept Jesus as the Christ (or Messiah), we can kick the universal command ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’ back a notch, to where it begins, even where it springs from, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your mind, all your soul, all your strength, and all your heart.’ Now we see why we’re commanded to love all humans (and maybe even all creatures). And if we want a word to confirm for us the religious importance of these two commands, we need look no further than, ‘On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ So, we’ve been tricked by God to be good by being perfect without knowing it! Very sly! 

To be perfect is nothing other than to love as God loves, and to love the other as much as we love our own. When we do this, not only do we visibly change, but everyone we encounter changes, for the better. We already knew full well what being imperfect means. We’ve spent most of our lives noticing imperfection in others, and more often than not tried to ‘correct’ it by everything from ‘constructive criticism’ to frontal assault, all in the name of love. We know what we’re doing, but worse (or better) yet, God also knows. You know, that ‘our Father who art in heaven’ fellow we’re always asking to do his will ‘on earth as it is in heaven.’ Fortunately, we can’t fool him.

All good deeds, all moral acts, all benevolence, all generosity, every good quality that we wish so hard we had been born with but are too lazy to acquire, yes, every good thing can be ours by following the command of Jesus Christ, ‘Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.’

False witness

Truth and falsehood. Telling the truth and telling a lie. ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.’ We may sidestep some of the other commandments of the Ten, explain them away, say they don’t apply anymore. But not this one. Everyone knows when they’re lying. ‘I was just fibbing,’ we say, or even excuse ourselves with class, calling it ‘a little white lie.’ Well, then, what’s a big black lie?

Long ago I noticed that, when lies are public, when they are perpetrated for ‘a greater cause,’ or for ‘national security,’ or even to ‘protect the innocent,’ the greater they are, the more believable they become. ‘It MUST be true! No one would lie about THAT!’ maybe because we know we couldn’t, or maybe the person making the statement in question is ‘above suspicion’ for social or political or religious status.

We know, if we look back at history, from recent times to ages past, that the biggest liars are the most successful. On that score, any deviant from an established religion is going to be considered a liar. Many ancient cults built on lies (this is distinctly different from myths, by the way) have disappeared. Their lies weren’t big enough, or perhaps bigger lies replaced them. Thus, the religious history of the world.

In Western civilization dominated by a persistent monotheism, the three big ones (religions, I’m not saying the three biggest lies, or maybe I am) seem to be as inside each other as a stack of nesting dolls. To the Jew, Christianity is a lie, because the apostles lied about the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. To the Christians, Muhammad lied, because he said that Jesus didn’t die on a cross, but only ascended.

There is a flip side to the success of the biggest lies. Truth also can be successful, but it takes far greater effort. It is almost never the work of just one man, but a composite of many lives. True, it sometimes takes an individual to start it, a catalyst so to speak. But then catalysts can also be liars. The world is full of almost nothing else. Lies catch fire more easily than truths. But only truths never go out.

As a Christian, I believe that Jesus of Nazareth was resurrected, along with all the other beliefs about Him that are stated in the Symbol of Nicæa. I respect the Jews, even if they think my fathers lied, and lied grandly. I find the Jews, by the way, to be the most truthful people on earth—when they’re being honest! As for Muslims, Mormons, Millennialists, and a host of other M and M’s, I have my reservations.

Not about the believers themselves, mind you. But I’m speaking about lies, big ones, and ones that are successful at finding believers. Even Christianity in many of its forms belongs in the ‘M’ group I just mentioned. Though ‘all who call on the name of the Lord will be saved,’ that’s no guarantee there won’t be repercussions in this world and the next, if you happen to be one of those who let loose a big one.

Another thing I have found out is, people can say a lot of true things without speaking the truth. This happens all the time. I know I even do it, though not until I have had more time for reflection. I know this kind of lie when I hear it from pulpit and pedestal, whether it comes out of black mouth or white, red neck or blue blood. For me as a Christian, it proves the words of Jesus, ‘My sheep know my voice.’

Looking back at secular history, almost every government (those that have succeeded) was built on just such a vague mixture of truths and lies as I describe above (they all sound like true things, of course, but they’re not really the truth). Am I going to except the majestic birth of my own republic, these United States? Um, uh-uh. We’ve been just too successful to be built entirely on truth. Let my stoning begin.

True things, yes, can be preached, taught, written, proclaimed, sung about, even forced on you with the ease and impunity of a hidden rape, but only the truth settles on us with secure, confident meekness, providential in action, needless of everything that goes against our free will and our human nature, and though it may take a lifetime to sink in, it proves to be the twin of what our conscience knows is right.

Truth is what we want, what I want, because we know that’s what we’re made of. Truth is being, however and by whomever it has arisen, and it can be recognized by its chief operation, Love. What is true really works. Lies, on the other hand, especially the big ones, don’t work. They have to cover up their failures with more of their kind. Seeming successful, the price for their success is, in fact, failure.

We hear from the preachers that our country (I mean, these United States) is on the brink of disaster because of our deep, unrepenting moral decay. They point to our crimes against humanity in allowing abortion, our outrageous perfidy in permitting ‘gay’ marriage. No, brothers. We are in far greater trouble than that. We’ve lied to the Holy Spirit worse than Annas and Sapphira. What will become of us?