Trophy-bearers of the holy fire

Then Jesus cried out, “Whoever believes in me does not believe in me only, but in the one who sent me. The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me. I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness. If anyone hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge that person. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world. There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words; the very words I have spoken will condemn them at the last day. For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken. 
I know that his command leads to eternal life. So whatever I say is just what the Father has told me to say.”
John 12:44-50 NIV

No matter how you cut it up, the fourth gospel is loaded with meaning, with truth, in each and every utterance of Christ which the evangelist records. We call him John the theologian because we can sense the presence of man’s struggle with God in every line, man wanting and not wanting to be what God has created him to be, and God firmly insisting that there’s no other option. Eternal life is open and free, but only to those who really want to live.

People call church teachings and philosophy ‘theology’ and they say that they go to school and ‘read theology’ eventually becoming ‘masters.’ Nothing could be further from the truth, but there is some value in learning the signs this way, so that when real theology happens to us, we will recognize it for what it is, and not shrug it off as ‘just what happens.’ Theology is struggle, and Christ came to persuade us to take it on and to show us its purpose.

The same words of Jesus can ignite the fires of theology and of hell. ‘I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already’ (Luke 12:49 JB). This is no mythological Prometheus who will steal fire from the heaven of the gods and then be eternally tortured for it, though even in the myth the fire-thieving Titan is said to have created man from clay and then sacrificed himself for their benefit, for the divine fire is the agent of transformation both in myth and in reality.

Curious that the makers of religion can slip through the inferno that Christ provides, and erect towers of their own wisdom to raise them above the flames. All the while, far below them, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, those fire-sifters, the true theologians tread the flames with the Son of God, who cools the fires of their flesh and blows upon the fire of their spirits, transforming them into images of Himself and, like Him, trophy-bearers of the holy fire.

‘The Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken. I know that his command leads to eternal life,’ says Jesus, who not only tells us exactly what is in the Father’s mind, but shows us even what the Father looks like. And, far from using threats or force, far from exalting himself over us as our judge—though as the Son of God He has every right—He tells us that not He, but the words He has spoken, will judge us on the last day, making us write our own sentences.

In the gospel, not just according to John but in all four gospels, we have been told and shown everything we need to know about ourselves, where we come from, where we are going. We are even released from religious bondage and fear, not as the atheist imagines himself free by denying Reason and its Source, but by acknowledging Reason in a form we can recognize, a man just like us, who came not once but comes forever, to bestow upon His race the power of words.

Small blasphemies

Athens, April 8, 2015

The Holy Synod of the Church of Greece has made a statement in connection with the fact that shoes with a depiction of the Holy Cross on the soles has entered the market in Greece, reports the Romfea portal. The footgear with the Cross on its soles must disappear from the market – this demand has been put forward in the statement of the Holy Synod of the Church of Greece.

The Synod has stated that such use of an image of the Holy Cross ‘is a sheer blasphemy, outrage upon and violation of the sanctity of the Expiatory Symbol of our Orthodox faith.’ The Synod has also expressed its ‘discontent, protest and loathing in connection with this blasphemous action committed, furthermore, on the great days of the Holy Week, and the Synod is requiring removal of the above-mentioned footwear from sale.’

It should be noted that the Synod has issued this statement and expressed its protest following the publication on the internet of photographs advertising these shoes with the Cross pictured on them.

I don’t pretend to understand why people should be so childish and proffer such petty blasphemies to the Lord, who is not moved to anything but pity for them, while our churchly leaders expose themselves to greater ridicule by challenging them.

You are not to be childish in your outlook. You can be babies as far as wickedness is concerned, but mentally you must be adult.

1 Corinthians 14:20

Now, for some history…

When Francis of Assisi was ushered into the presence of the Sultan of Egypt and was told he must walk across a carpet that was covered with images of the cross, he did not hesitate, much to the surprise of the Muslim onlookers. After he crossed the carpet, walking naturally and not trying to avoid treading on the crosses, he said, ‘I have walked on these crosses because they are the cross of the bad thief, which you may keep. I will, on the other hand, keep the cross of my Lord Jesus Christ.’ This unexpected outcome so impressed the Sultan that he admitted Francis into his intimate company, and allowed him to evangelize. Though it may be only a legend, there is a tradition that the Sultan told Francis, ‘I know that yours is the true faith, and that Jesus is the Lord, but if I openly confess Him here and now, we shall both be put to the sword. Living for Him in secret will allow me to work for Him openly.’ And before his repose, the Sultan sent for two Franciscan brothers to attend him at death, and they baptised him into life eternal.

Our love must be as mighty and fearless as Christ's, and then every blasphemy, every attack, every unfounded hatred and mockery shall be under the soles of our feet, just as the cross of the bad thief was under the feet of Francis of Assisi on that day.

The sumptuous banquet of the Word

He entered Jericho and was going through the town when a man whose name was Zacchaeus made his appearance; he was one of the senior tax collectors and a wealthy man. He was anxious to see what kind of man Jesus was, but he was too short and could not see Him for the crowd; so he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to catch a glimpse of Jesus who was to pass that way.

When Jesus reached the spot he looked up and spoke to him,
‘Zacchaeus, come down! Hurry, because I must stay at your house today!’

And he hurried down and welcomed Him joyfully. They all complained when they saw what was happening. ‘He has gone to stay at a sinner’s house,’ they said. But Zacchaeus stood his ground and said to the Lord, ‘Look, Sir, I am going to give half my property to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody I will pay him back four times the amount.’

And Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because this man too is a son of Abraham; for the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost.’

Luke 19:1-10 Jerusalem Bible

How can anyone who hears this true story not feel his spirit leap within him? Another chance to make good on everything that I have ruined, another chance to welcome back joy into my shattered life. Though I have filled my house with every good thing, it has been through pillaging what was not mine. Though I have exploited the poor, defrauded widows and orphans, He has seen hidden inside me the man that He created, and He is giving me another chance. He is letting me serve Him, letting me dine with Him, in my own house which He now has made His. “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man too is a son of Abraham; for the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost.”

And so the Word of God comes to our personal Jericho, and we, having heard of Him, maybe knowing more about Him than we care to admit, run ahead to find a comfortable spot from which to view this parade of His followers, and actually lay our eyes on Him. All we wanted to do was just that—take a look. But what happens to us proves beyond all shadow of a doubt, that His love bestows on us more than we bargained for. Though we thought, ‘I am one of so many, I can hide among the leafy branches above this crowd, and see Him without being noticed,’ He sees us.

The crowd doesn’t see us, no matter what we do, good or bad, whether we try to be visible or invisible. No one ever sees us as we really are. We don’t even see ourselves. Yet we cannot hide from the One who made us, and who is all Eye. Though Jesus had never seen him in this world, He looked up and saw Zacchaeus and called him out by name, just as He calls each of us by name. ‘How do you know me?’ asks another man whom Jesus called by name. For that man, as for Zacchaeus, there was no gradual development into a follower of Christ; it happened in an instant, in a moment of kairós time (cf. John 1:48).

It always must be this way. Jesus doesn’t wait. He calls us, and we either respond, or not. What must it feel like to be someone who has heard the voice of Jesus, and still turned away?

So Zacchaeus welcomed Jesus Christ into his home, prepared a feast, and dined with the Lord. No one had to tell him what to say or do. “Blessed are you... because flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but My Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 16:17 NASB), he just said it, and did it. “I am going to give half my property to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody I will pay him back four times the amount.” Zacchaeus returned to his senses, drawn back to reason by the Son of Man, remembered the covenant, came back to the commandments. Why? Because he heard the voice of Jesus say, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man too is a son of Abraham.”

We too are the sons and daughters, not only of Abraham, but of God our heavenly Father, through Christ our heavenly Brother, Friend, Master and Lord, who says to us, “I shall not call you servants any more, because a servant does not know his master’s business; I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father” (John 15:15 JB) and “You are My friends, if you do what I command you” (John 15:14).

What an opportunity! Jesus calls us by name—even if we don’t know Him, He knows us—to the sumptuous banquet of the Word! With Zacchaeus, let’s return everything that doesn’t belong to us—sin itself—so that we can travel light, as we run the way of His commandments, because He has set us free.

You too can be Christ

Ferdinand Hodler, The Good Samaritan

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Matthew 28:19

Who is Christ talking to? Surely, not to me, I’m just an ordinary Christian layman. I can’t baptize anyone. He must be talking to the apostles and their successors, the bishops and priests of the Church.
I wouldn’t know how to make disciples. I hardly know how to be one myself. He can’t possibly be talking to me. This is the Church’s responsibility.

Well, then, who or what is the Church?

Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.
Matthew 7:24-27

Does it really matter, then, to ask who or what is the Church when we have words like these from the Son of God Himself? Can anyone put Christ’s words into practice for us? Can anyone be blamed if we ourselves do not put them into practice? We may not all be called to be apostles, that is, bishops, priests, deacons, evangelists and other professors of the Word. What is there left for us to do? Have all the important works been taken away and given to these men who are so much closer to Christ?

Jesus said: A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?

The expert in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’

Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
Luke 10:30-37

So, we are not bishops, priests and deacons. They’ve been given the all important work of going out and making disciples of all nations, and baptizing them. That’s not our call. We can’t be expected to go out of our way and do such extraordinary things. But what about the people that we don’t go out to, but who come to us, or who are placed in our path?

The Church fathers take the parable of the Good Samaritan, quoted above, and they tell us some of its meanings. They don’t tell us who the priest and the Levite are, but they do tell us the identities of the Samaritan, the traveler, the innkeeper, and the inn.

The Samaritan, they say, is Christ. The traveler beaten and robbed and left on the road to die is every man in need of salvation. The inn is the Church, and the innkeeper is the ministers of the Church.

Christ is he who does not pass by on the other side, avoiding the inconvenience of helping the wounded man placed in his path. We may not be innkeepers—clergy—that is true. But anyone of us can minister to the one God has placed in our path.

You may not be a priest or Levite either.

But you too can be Christ.

Revealed to be Paradise

Orthodox Christianity is the last preserve of the ancient Christian faith in the world today, a snapshot of the Church from late Roman times, modified locally over the centuries but maintaining with a flexible conservatism the ethos, or environment, of early Christianity. Unlike sects that have tried to revive the apostolic faith on the basis of their reading of scripture, which has produced dozens (maybe hundreds) of variations over the past five centuries, Orthodoxy is remarkably uniform, even when liturgically seeming quite diverse. What unites the joyous yet solemn worship of the Ethiopians and the solemn yet joyous worship of the Russians is the quality of merciful love, a childlike trust, not only in God but in each other, and a subtle retreat from divisiveness. These people want to stay together so badly that they—I should say we—will put up with almost anything to fulfill the high-priestly prayer of Christ to the Father ‘that they all will be one, even as you and I are one.’ Though one encounters pockets, even strongholds, of intensely fundamentalist mentality, as well as spiritual scuffles and even battles from time to time and in various places, the mainstream of Orthodox Christianity flows smoothly, quietly, reflectively, and, best of all, dependably, from age to age.

These characteristics have been called both the strength and the weakness of Orthodoxy. In reality, what the Holy Church is cannot be weighed in the scales of human judgment any more than what Christ is. She is the Bride, and He the Bridegroom.

For the first three evenings of Holy Week, we celebrate Christ the Bridegroom, as we have done for centuries, in the wedding pavilion of the Lamb which Holy Church has erected and into which she invites us. There we behold the holy prophet Joseph the all-comely who, by his blameless life and senseless betrayal and sale into slavery by his own brothers, foreshadows Jesus the Messiah. And the wise and foolish virgins too are there, and we are shown the choices we make to be momentous. They matter, and we matter, but the Son of God cannot do for us what only we can do for ourselves, that is, make sure we have plenty of oil for our lamps, so that they will continue to shine brightly to the end. Our faith is not magic, nor is it like a machine that can be set to run on automatic. Like the material universe in which we find ourselves, everything erodes and must be maintained, on purpose, or else not. This is our part in the synergic relationship each one of us shares with the Creator. Not just the first Adam, but even the Second, even us, He places in the Garden, to tend it. Though the Garden may have been overrun with weeds, if we are diligent, and if we follow the Gardener and do what we see Him doing, it is revealed to be Paradise.

Ten virgins

Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. Watch therefore; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.
Matthew 25:1-13

The parable about the ten virgins has been clearly and convincingly explained by Seraphim of Sarov in his conversation with Motovilov.

Some say that the shortage of oil of the foolish virgins signifies their shortage of good works in their lives. Such understanding is not exactly correct. How can they be short of good works if they, though foolish, are still called virgins? Chastity is a supreme virtue, the state of being equal to angels, and could itself serve as a substitute for all other virtues.

I humbly think that they were actually short of the grace of God's All-Holy Spirit.

These virgins did good, and out of their spiritual foolishness supposed that doing good was exactly the point of Christianity. They did good works and by this obeyed God, but they did not care in the least beforehand whether they had received or reached the grace of God's Spirit…

This very gaining of the Holy Spirit is that oil which the foolish virgins lacked. They were called foolish because they forgot about the necessary fruit of virtue, the grace of the Holy Spirit, without which no one is saved and no one can be saved, for: ‘it is by the Holy Spirit that any soul is vitalized and exalted in chastity, and any soul is lit by the Trinitarian unity in holy mysteries.’

The Holy Spirit moves into our souls, and this installation of the All-Mighty into our souls, and co-existence of His Trinitarian Unity with our spirit is given only through the gaining by all means, the Holy Spirit, which prepares in our soul and body the throne for God’s creative co-existence with our spirit in strict accordance with the word of God: ‘I will dwell among them and will be their God, and they will be my people.’

This is the oil in the lamps of wise virgins, oil that burnt bright and long, so that the virgins with the burning lamps could wait until the Bridegroom who came at midnight, and enter with Him into the house of joy. But the foolish virgins, seeing that their lamps were going out, went to the marketplace to buy oil but would not come back in time, for the doors were already shut.

The marketplace is our life; the door of the house of marriage (that was shut and did not lead to the Bridegroom) is our human death; wise and foolish virgins are Christian souls; the oil is not works but the grace of the All-Holy Spirit of God which is received through these works, and which converts things perishable into things imperishable, transforms spiritual death into spiritual life, darkness into light, the manger of our being, with passions tied like cattle and beasts, into the Divine Temple, into the glorious palace of never-ending rejoicing in Christ Jesus.

Ikon not made by hands

Yes, there seems to be, and it seems that there has always been, a kind of subtle war between the male and female sexes. We have the saying, ‘It's a man's world,’ and in a strange sort of way it's true. In most places, through most of human history, the male sex dominates society, at least outwardly. In recent times, the women's movement throughout the world has won for the female sex ‘rights’ that previously only men possessed. Actually, going beyond the equalization of ‘rights’ this movement has in many places declared war on the male sex in a barely hidden push to gain ascendancy, and even to collect ‘reparations’ from the offending sex. This post will not be a diatribe against feminism, but simply reviews the state of affairs between the sexes as we find them. What God creates is a humanity that is His image and likeness in two complementary forms. What sin results in is a humanity that is fragmented and distorted and at war with itself.

The Son of God comes into the world—yes, as a male human, a man, according to the Divine economy—to integrate the two natures, human and Divine, in a single person, and in so doing, He also integrates the two sexes, female and male, in a single humanity. He proves true in eternity what was true in time. ‘God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them’ (Genesis 1:27). He also provides the antidote to the sin of gender supremacy by His death on the Cross, His burial in the Tomb, His descent into Hades and His triumph over it, and by His bodily Resurrection and Ascension to the right hand of Divine Majesty. He does so by becoming the Divine Bridegroom, the Second Adam, and by revealing hidden in His side the Divine Bride, the Second Eve. Yes, His virgin Mother is the Second Eve, but not the only one. She is the Mother of all who follow, all who like her become ‘God-bearers.’

The Marriage of earth and heaven makes the earth heavenly and heaven earthly. The divine Bridegroom makes the human Bride divine, just as the unwedded Bride, the human mother of Jesus Christ, makes the divine Bridegroom human. Heaven comes down to earth, so that earth can ascend to heaven. And we, following Jesus, follow her, His mother, and like her also make the divine human. Brotherly love now becomes theological, because to love our brother and sister whom we can see proves that we love God whom we cannot see. In truth, our love for our neighbor, even for all of creation, makes the invisible God visible.

But how does Christ by His Divine economy, His plan of salvation, provide the antidote to the sin of gender supremacy, how does He bring reconciliation and peace between the male and the female? Does He make them equal, as modern social theory attempts to do? Does He remove precedence, privilege, and patriarchy? We still see a male God in heaven, the Father, and a male Son, Jesus Christ. Some see a female God in the Holy Spirit, but all this is just trying to fit the unknowable within the limits of human understanding. We are still thinking in pictures that we have made, but it is the Ikon not made by hands that reveals the Truth.

The Bridegroom and the Bride. This is where we find ourselves when we seek to know the truth of all things. And in the Bridegroom's wounds we are revealed to be His Bride. All of us, male and female, in a single new humanity, one with each other as the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are One in the Holy Triad, who was, who is, and who is to come.

Only from Him

‘Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.’ To many this saying of Jesus seems hard. But how much harder will it be to hear that word of doom, ‘Depart from Me, your cursed, into everlasting fire.’ For those who now cheerfully hear and obey the word of the Cross will not tremble to hear the sentence of eternal damnation. The sign of the Cross will appear in the heavens, when Our Lord comes as Judge. Then will all the servants of the Cross, who in their lives conformed themselves to the Crucified, stand with confidence before Christ their Judge.

Why, then, do you fear to take up the Cross, which is the road to the Kingdom? In the Cross is salvation; in the Cross is life; in the Cross is protection against our enemies; in the Cross is infusion of heavenly sweetness; in the Cross is strength of mind; in the Cross is joy of spirit; in the Cross is excellence of virtue; in the Cross is perfection of holiness. There is no salvation of soul, nor hope of eternal life, save in the Cross. Take up the Cross, therefore, and follow Jesus. Christ has gone before you, bearing His Cross; He died for you on the Cross, that you also may bear your cross, and desire to die on the cross with Him. For if you die with Him, you will also live with Him. And if you share His sufferings, you will also share His glory.

See how in the Cross all things consist, and in dying on it all things depend. There is no other way to life and to true inner peace, than the way of the Cross, and of daily self-denial. Go where you will, seek what you will; you will find no higher way above nor safer way below than the road of the Holy Cross. Arrange and order all things to your own ideas and wishes, yet you will still find suffering to endure, whether you will or not; so you will always find the Cross. For you will either endure bodily pain, or suffer anguish of mind and spirit.

At times, God will withdraw from you; at times you will be troubled by your neighbor, and, what is more, you will often be a burden to yourself. Neither can any remedy or comfort bring you relief, but you must bear it as long as God wills. For God desires that you learn to bear trials without comfort, that you may yield yourself wholly to Him, and grow more humble through tribulation. No man feels so deeply in his heart the Passion of Christ as he who has to suffer in like manner. The Cross always stands ready, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, wherever you flee; for wherever you go, you bear yourself, and always find yourself. Look up or down, without you or within, and everywhere you will find the Cross. And everywhere you must have patience, if you wish to attain inner peace, and win an eternal crown…

… Had there been a better way, more profitable to the salvation of mankind than suffering, then Christ would have revealed it in His word and life. But He clearly urges both His own disciples and all who wish to follow Him to carry the cross, saying, ‘If any will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.’ Therefore, when we have read and studied all things, let his be our final resolve: ‘that through much tribulation we must enter the Kingdom of God.’

— Thomas à Kempis,
The Imitation of Christ, Book 2, Chapter 12

Today is Good Friday, though not for me. I am a Greek Orthodox Christian. The Greeks and all other Eastern Christians follow the ‘Old Calendar’ (Julian) for that part of the year which leads into Easter and follows it. This year, our Pascha (Orthodox Easter) is one week behind everyone else’s. It has something to do with our rule that Pascha must follow the Jewish Pesach (Passover), so whenever the Jews celebrate that movable feast (following a lunar calendar), our Pascha must follow it chronologically. Somehow the Western Church (Roman Catholic, Protestant), using the ‘New Calendar’ (Gregorian, which is astronomically more accurate) has decided to cut the link to Judaism. Those years where Orthodox Pascha is five weeks later than Western Easter, you will find the Jews celebrating Passover after Easter. For us, a big ‘no-no.’

Today is Good Friday. I wish I could read out loud for you the entire twelfth chapter of Book 2 of The Imitation of Christ, and it’s too long to quote it here. The opening paragraphs, and the last, are enough. Roman Catholics and some Protestants should need no recommendation from me about this book, which used to be the most widely read Christian book outside the Bible, but many Orthodox will either never have heard of it or else have dismissed it out of hand because it is a ‘Western’ Christian book. Still, I recommend it, because it has also been endorsed by a recently reposed Orthodox saint, Mother Gavrilía (1897-1992). Yes, I know she is not an ‘official’ saint and may never be ‘glorified’ as one, but anyone who knows her life and sayings cannot doubt that’s what she is—a saint. And in her list of books to be read, The Imitation of Christ is one she highly regarded (The Ascetic of Love, p. 178).

Today is Good Friday. As I drove home this evening after visiting with a friend, looking around me at the world passing by, I was struck by the complete indifference to, maybe just ignorance of, the great Event that a small minority was commemorating today. This is one of the few days in the year, maybe the only day, that many churches leave themselves unlocked and open to anyone passing by, to enter and contemplate the mystery of the Cross, through which salvation has come to the whole world.

Yes, I know, it’s through Jesus that salvation has come, but please, let’s remember it didn’t happen by magic. It took courage, effort, perseverance, faith, and especially love, and it cost everything, not just pain and suffering, but life itself had to be surrendered. All of this, whether we like it or not, whether we believe it true or not, is still the pattern of our own human existence. Though the world around me, as I drove home, seemed oblivious to the Cross, it is the Cross which is the key to all of its suffering.

I saw a man wearing a black robe, shouldering a life-sized wooden cross made from two pine trunks fastened together. The wood had not been hewn square at all. It looked a bit odd, but it was definitely a cross and it was obvious he was ‘witnessing’ publicly. Following him were three or four others, men in black robes, and a woman in a black dress, all very young. He did not drag the cross, but carried it aloft. I followed the little group in my rear view mirror till they vanished into the distance.

Back to the Cross. My mother used to tell me of her Catholic childhood. Good Friday she went on her knees into the church like everyone else to venerate the Holy Cross set up in the middle of the nave. She said she had sore, scraped knees, and torn stockings by the time it was over. As a young adult Christian in a High Church Episcopal parish, I did something similar for about a dozen years. Episcopalians aren’t as hard on the knees. We left the pews, single-filed and genuflected thrice on the way to the Cross.

Back to the world. I couldn’t stop thinking, as I drove home tonight, how the Cross is both the questioning and the answering of the human dilemma, how tragic yet typical it is that both are hidden in plain sight before us, yet most, almost all, do not make the connexion. It is either ignored, or else seen as ‘religion’ and rejected. How many Christians, ceremonially approaching a wooden image of a hand- and foot-nailed naked man make the connexion that it is their suffering and death they come to kiss?

As we are warned in The Imitation of Christ, ‘At times, God will withdraw from you; at times you will be troubled by your neighbor, and, what is more, you will often be a burden to yourself,’ and ‘The Cross always stands ready, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, wherever you flee; for wherever you go, you bear yourself, and always find yourself. Look up or down, without you or within, and everywhere you will find the Cross.’ Every pain, every sorrow, every disappointment, every loss, everything, everything—the Cross.

Perhaps it’s too close for us to see on our own. Perhaps it’s so much a part of us, ours and the world’s suffering, that we could never see it, even if we wanted to, just as no one can see his own face, except in a mirror. And here, before us, on this Good Friday (or on Orthodox ‘Great and Holy Friday,’ a second opportunity one week from today) that mirror is providentially supplied. We can crawl, walk, or even run forward to that irrefutable mirror, the Cross of Christ, and taking hold of it, kissing the image of His sacred wounds, find a comfort that comes from no one else, only from Him, who takes our place every day, in every trial, until the end of time.

Λαζαρε δευρο εξω!

Lazarus, come forth!

Don't you just hate it when someone who doesn’t even have a college diploma challenges trained seminary graduates ‘who has letters after their names’ (as Spyros ‘Amerikano’ Chalkiopoulos tried to explain to Mrs. Durrell in the film My Family and Other Animals) on points biblical or theological? I know I do, because it really shouldn’t be necessary. Why don’t the seminaries teach them these things?

There is no Catholic way of salvation, there is no Protestant way. There are only explanations and interpretations, and these are undoubtedly human. These are not what is meant by the concept of παράδοσις, parádhosis, ‘the handing over’ of the truth of the Gospel.

The παράδοσις is what was handed over verbally and practically by Christ and His holy apostles to the believers. Most of what is meant by this term has ended up in the New Testament. In fact, if you believe in the divine economy, all of what was handed over by the apostles is in the New Testament. The problem seems to be all about interpretation. It is this human failing, the desire to ‘be right,’ that has tried to rip asunder the seamless robe that clothes the Body of Christ.

Staying in the Word, reading, hearing and living it as it is, we will have returned to that place where we again put on that seamless robe. There is one faith, one Lord, one baptism, as we know. It is mankind in its argumentative and speculative vanity that has tried to tear the robe to shreds, while all think that they have gambled for the entire robe, and won it. The seamless robe is intact, but only for those who really want to wear it, and who want to share it with Christ's holy and pure Body.

Like Lazarus, we are still tangled in our strips of mortuary linen like dead men. Jesus still calls out to us, ‘Come forth!’ We don't have to remain dead, unless we want to. Like Lazarus, once you know for sure that it is the voice of Jesus calling you out, who would want to stay in that tomb?

Wake up from your sleep,
rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.
Ephesians 5:14 Jerusalem Bible

There is only one way of salvation, and it is simply but amply testified throughout the scriptures. We need to really believe that the Word of God, not our interpretations of it, is what constitutes the Truth. That is the παράδοσις. That is what the apostles handed over to us. That is what makes our faith, if we believe their testimony, apostolic.

I am for tearing off the costumes we wear in front of each other as we go into battle. Why? Because our battle is not with each other, but against the powers of wickedness in the heavens. If we really want to fight each other, let’s strip ourselves, and see—we're all the same! Then, let’s put on the only garment worth having, because He gives it to all who believe in Him, His own skin! All who have been baptized have put on Christ, as the scriptures say. And what baptism is that? Being buried with Christ in His death, so as to rise with Him in His glorious resurrection.

I’m trying to move beyond thinking about God, to just living in Him. I’m trying to cut through the knots of tangled lore that have kept us encamped on the devil’s playground so long, fighting each other.

What would happen, if suddenly the various Christian missions and denominations in a majority Muslim country like Indonesia or Malaysia (which still allow the existence of Christianity) suddenly were seen to absolutely and without reserve support each other in everything, even without coalescing into one uniform institution? Everything that they disagree about, they would agree to just pray and ask the Lord to intercede for each other’s folly, and then, with that out of the way, just ‘go, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them.’

Hey! What if we can’t agree on how and whom to baptize, and when? Well, that’s just some more folly that we have to ask the Lord to forgive and correct. Meanwhile, let’s all just go in to the harvest field, and work, because night is coming when no one can work, and because ‘the time is close.’

But what about groups like the Mormons, who say they are Christians, but really aren’t?

I’ve thought about groups like the Mormons, and of course, there are others besides them who straddle a ‘gray area.’ I think the fearful divide is the question whether one accepts the Holy Bible as the only divinely revealed scripture on earth. If the answer is ‘yes,’ then we start from there, if we must, to peel people ‘off the salvation list’ by testing them on other things.

But do you see what that makes us? Judges, and corrupt judges at that, because we can only see as through a glass darkly and have no view at all of what is happening in a person's soul, where they meet God face to face.

We have to learn to trust more in God and in the Word of God, Jesus Christ, and simply follow His directions and instructions without adding to them. Look where we have ended up by adding to the παράδοσις: ‘The world’ drives past mega-churches and through intersections where there’s a different church on each of the four corners. Shameful, and blasphemous, that we who say we believe in Jesus Christ trash His words and His prayer so boldly, thinking it will not bite us in the end.

One more time—what would happen if we all supported each other (barring those groups, I suppose, who deny the Word of God is the sole divine scripture on earth) and defended each other against every attack from ‘the outside’?

Overnight, the non-Christian world would be astonished and possibly fall like a house of cards, because at last, they have seen what Jesus said, ‘They will know you are Mine because you love one another.’

This is not a plug for the ‘ecumenical movement’ which I do not believe in. This is a plea for obedience to the word of Jesus.

Blind faith

Blind faith, good or bad? Even faith unqualified puts a person at risk. You must accept that something is, or will be, on trust. Reasoned faith seems to me to be no faith at all, because faith doesn’t wait, it simply obeys, and moves, following the Lord’s command. Reasoned faith is just another name for reason, riskless, not reckless, and follows one’s own views as to what is, or will be.

I don’t think that Christ expects what most people think of as blind faith, but He’s the only one who can ever really be trusted blindly. That is, of course, if you believe, or know, that He is God. Impossible for the natural man, no fault of his, that’s just how we are. To know that another human being, now or in ages past, is somehow God, is not possible for human nature. We know too much.

Still, the Christ calls us into regions of action, thought, and perception (what else can I call the movement of the spirit?) that are completely uncharted, unexpected, out of sync with everything we take for granted as a part of ordinary daily life. He calls us out, and we must follow, and that blindly, and immediately, or not at all, because when He commands, Christ doesn’t wait.

When we accept the claims of Jesus Christ, we place ourselves immediately at risk, though most of us think we are now in a safe place and bound for glory. Well, yes, glory it is, but not what we naively imagine. The strange thing is, there is no compulsion with Christ. He simply states the facts, and then He acts, and expects us to follow Him, now or, in some cases, never. Choose Christ or comfort.

The disciples thin out now as they did when He told them they had to eat His flesh and drink His blood. Today we clamor to eat His flesh and drink His blood, and we surge forward in a mob to commune, mindlessly as well as blindly, and call this ‘faith.’ I wonder what the disciples who left Him were thinking, and where did they go after they abandoned Him. Did they sink back into the safety of tradition?

When Christ went to Bethany to raise His beloved friend Lazaros from the dead and declared to Martha, ‘I am the resurrection and the life, do you believe this?’ was He expecting her to accept this on blind faith? I don’t think so. Martha, along with the other disciples knew Jesus personally, followed Him, heard His teaching, and witnessed His miracles. He wanted to test and deepen her faith.

As He told the unbelieving Jews, ‘If you don’t believe in me, at least believe in the works that I do.’ That is a strange thing for Him to say if He were expecting blind faith. There is a danger in blind faith that even the Son of God wanted to avert and save His disciples from. Blind faith yields in turn to blind obedience, and the only authority to whom man owes such faith and obedience is God.

Though the Church is the Body of Christ as well as His mystical Bride, and though He has given it, given us, the power to forgive and remit sins in His name, the evil one has planted in this divine field seed of a different kind, which has sprouted and sought to command and exact undeserved obedience through all the ages. Yet we know when it is the Master’s voice speaking in the Church, and when not.

Yes, the disciples thin out, and considerably, as we follow more closely behind Jesus, moving as He moves, when, where, and how. Yet the Church remains full, the recipients of His mercy. For though He calls and commands us, and does not wait for us to follow, He nevertheless doesn’t cease to call, and that grace stretches out time, giving everyone, fast or slow, the chance to be saved.

For salvation is not the fruit of blind faith, but of love, and love that obeys, that keeps close watch on the Master’s every move, that does not sleep but watches, to miss nothing and no one that is sent, that is placed in its path. That is what kept the disciples close to the Lord when the others took their leave, and what brought the disciples back after they had abandoned Him and fled.

I am the resurrection and the life, do you believe this?

In everyone I meet

The morning, sun rising invisibly behind my house in the southeast, making a beautiful start to this spring day, which I know may very well go through many changes, dark clouds may still pile up later, full of rain or maybe hail, and winds may blow these down on my little house. Yesterday, the opposite. The morning began with thick gray clouds hiding the sun, the earth moistened by tiny mist-like raindrops, which gladly yielded to sunny skies later, letting me spend some time weeding the soft soil in my garden, only to be forced indoors by a sudden cloudburst, which took its time, many hours, in dissipating. This is life, inevitable, unpredictable, irresistible, inconstant, reliable in only one aspect, it changes forever.

I awoke with vestiges of my last dream in mind. Guests peopled my sky house, nameless and faceless, with whom I had been conversing, we talked about the cross of Christ, how we must bear it in this earthly life, and I heard myself say, ‘But in the world to come, thank God, we have no more crosses to bear,’ and I was surprised to see my beloved Dad slowly pass by, hunched over a little as he was in his last years, on the other side of the kitchen bar. ‘No, Norm, that isn’t quite right,’ he said with his characteristic, knowing smile and slight twinkle in his eyes, looking as he used to, when he had to correct me. ‘We still have crosses to bear, even on this side, for all we did and all we didn’t do.’

I felt flooded with contrary emotions, as came to mind ‘Among the spirits of the righteous perfected in faith, give rest, O Savior, to the soul of your servant. Bestow upon it the blessed life which is from You, O loving Lord…’ and my heart rose in defense of my sentiment, of my expectation, as continued the words of the mnimósynon, ‘Within Your peace, O Lord, where all Your Saints repose, give rest also to the soul of Your servant, for You alone are Immortal.’ And I remembered, and quoted, imperfectly from memory, to those standing near the saying of Sergei Fudel, that as we approach the end of our lives, we feel drawn to our departed family members, and our love for them opens doors to their presence.

The world of dreams is built out of the materials of our everyday, working life. Guests, not family members as usual, were in my house yesterday. That bright morning rearranged the start of my day, as I took the opportunity to weed the garden, after my morning coffee. While I worked at the edge of the road, I sang in French, ‘Marima Kabalingué, ma petite amie d'Afrique, a épousé le Seigneur et rayonne de Bonheur…’ and noticed, coming up behind me, an elderly couple. As they drew near I switched to English, ‘Good morning!’ and after their returned greeting, small talk ensued. I noticed a familiar accent in the woman’s voice. ‘Where are you from?’ I asked. ‘We are from Lebanon,’ she replied.

Though I had never met them before, nor knew their names till that morning, we instantly became friends, joined by our common faith and shared community. Souad’s cousin is married to the sister of a dear friend of mine at church. Faris, the husband of Souad, who conforms to his name (which means ‘knight’), can no longer drive, and the couple sold their car. Now they have no way to come to church. As we were making arrangements for them to accompany me on Palm Sunday, out of nowhere rain began to fall, first lightly, then torrentially, and we scrambled into my house. There we sat down around the dining table while we exchanged phone numbers. Briefly I had guests. Then, I took them home.

They must have been the unseen guests in my dream. Their presence in my life, through a quick encounter, still reoriented my inner house. Eastward, always east, must face our hearts, for the sake of the Daystar. I remembered waking during the night at about three and wanting to take a little breakfast, but stopped, thinking it was Sunday, so I could not break my fast before Communion. I had to sober up a little more before I realized it was only Wednesday morning. Relieved, I was about to eat something when I remembered, ‘Oh no, it’s recycling day, and I haven’t taken the bins out to the curb for pickup!’ Relief doesn’t last long. Correction always comes, because we are, no, I am, so stubbornly about myself.

Hence, no doubt, Dad’s gentle correction, ‘We still have crosses to bear, even on this side, for all we did and all we didn’t do.’ And I continue to ponder here and now, as I remember his words, the crosses that await us there on the other side, yet without fear. Love fills not only the earth, but the universe, more reliably than the flow of time, more abundantly than the harvest of moments, all of them loaded with joy, if only we are ready for whatever and whoever comes. As I start this new day, not only is the Lord with me, but so are the saints of heaven and earth, I am literally surrounded by that great cloud of witnesses, and whether awake or asleep, He comes to me in everyone I meet, if only I come out.

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.

Was, is, and ever shall be

I once heard someone say, ‘Jesus cannot be the Son of God. How could God have a wife?’

It’s incredible to me how vain the human intellect is—anyone’s, mine as well—to challenge others when one’s only armor is ignorance. In my youth I have done the same. Perhaps I still do, even now, without knowing it. Nonetheless, it still astounds me how we humans take on as adversaries immense truths while we are armed with only unbridled ignorance. Perhaps deep down we feel we’re David sent forth to lay Goliath low. Too bad metaphors can’t be cheaply applied, nor indiscriminately. We do this too, cheapening not only the quest for truth, but—if it were possible—even the Truth itself.

Well, how to respond to such a challenge, ‘Jesus cannot be the Son of God. How could God have a wife?’

Words like misaimed arrows elude their mark or, too shallowly shot never reach the target at all. What meaning can be found when, casting questions that cannot be asked, we seek answers that cannot be grasped by the human mind?

A man asks, ‘Why do ants move so quickly?’ An ant responds, ‘Why do shadows move so slowly?’ The ant doesn’t know that men exist. It sees only the gaping shadow and then, perhaps, nothing at all as it is crushed beneath the shadow’s weight. A man can’t see the world of the ant as it moves with reasonable rhythm and speed, not (as he imagines) in ‘fast forward.’

We are all caught in the grip of congenital blindness, made worse by voluntary deafness. In our natural state we are worse than dumb beasts, because at least their lack of language enables them to praise God without argument, whereas we, blind and deaf except for the Light of Christ and the Word of God, seek to slay each other spiritually and even physically as our ‘praise.’

And to what or to whom is our praise offered? 
To God, or to ourselves?

If the Jew could only know and accept who Jesus of Nazareth was, there would be no need for Christianity. If the Christian could only know and accept who Jesus Christ is, there would be no need for Islam. If the Muslim could only know and accept who Jesus Son of Mary ever shall be, there would be the threshold of the Parousía.

Yet we luxuriate indolently asking such questions as, ‘How could God have a wife?’ so that, not listening for an answer even if there were one, we can ready ourselves for our next attack. Since God has tired of blasting the Babel Tower and scattering the nations, we prove ourselves by our wanton, ruthless monotheism to be His partisans, defending what it is we think of Him not who He is, self-blindfolded and numb to His touch.

He sees, hears, and knows all of this, all we do, all we do not do. He knows why we are here, who we are, and how He has entered His creation as one of us. Though He speaks His Reason—that is, His Word—to us in every moment and place, we will not hear it. Though His Light shines on the eyes of every man that enters the world, we blindfold ourselves. I say this to myself as well as to those who pose unaskable questions: Unblindfold your eyes, and see. Jesus was, is, and ever shall be, not only Son and Word of God, but Pantokrator, Lord of all.

Shine, shine, O new Jerusalem…

‘As we entrust our Diocese and its mission over the coming years to Our Lady, may her example of obedience and perseverance in faith help this Local Church of East Anglia, in communion with the Universal Church, to deepen our faith and to be strong witnesses for Jesus Christ. Through our faith and witness, may the world be given a glimpse of the possibility of a different way of living, a world transformed by faith, hope and love – the world of the one true God – who shares in our human so that we might one day share in his eternal life.’

— Alan Hopes, (Roman Catholic) Bishop of East Anglia (UK),

from a sermon preached in July, 2013

This drew the following comment from a reader of the online Catholic Herald (UK),

‘ ... the possibility of a different way of living, a world transformed by faith, hope and love – the world of the one true God – who shares in our human life so that we might one day share in his eternal life.’ If this is what the Church has to offer the world, one cannot but wonder how much of religion do people need to live that different way or whether religion has become a distraction from doing so—a self-perpetuating, self-obsessed enclosed system of doctrines, rituals and morality—so that the best service the Church could do mankind is to attain the point where there is no more need for religion. Just asking! But if that did happen at least we would be spared the endless bickering about who is the true Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Muslim etc. that seems to be what most preoccupies religious people.

Although this Socrates—the reader’s online identity—seems to be rather cynical about Christianity, I have asked myself these very same questions, and I am still ‘just asking!’ As an ‘insider’ in the Church that Socrates is querying, I’ve already heard many of the possible answers to his question, and they don’t satisfy me either. I am a little taken aback by his suggestion, reminiscent of lyrics in John Lennon’s song ‘Imagine’, that the Church should do us all a favor, and just die. Well, his British reserve helps him say something that sounds like he might mean this, but even if he does, ‘the point where there is no more need for religion’ doesn’t have to mean the end of the Church. Quite the contrary!

The Marxist-Leninist regime of the Soviet Union tried its best to deal Orthodox Christianity, as well as every other religious faith within its domain, a death blow. We already know what happened. All that persecution, though it cost untold misery and countless lives, simply strengthened the Church. Incredible that even the Church’s sworn enemies never seem to learn either from history, or from watching the survival instinct at work in the natural world. Someone told me once—I don’t know if it’s true—that cockroaches have no other weapon to fight back extermination but irrepressible reproduction. I’ve always thought of the Church as surviving every challenge the same way.

No, I don’t mean physical reproduction. Anyone can breed, and yes, at worst the Church expands and fights back annihilation even that way, but ‘the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.’ At least that’s how it’s been so far. History, though, has shown a mixture of this kind of Church growth and another kind, that of domination by worldly wealth and power. There’s no guarantee, despite our official ‘belief’ in the indefectability—or even the infallibility (a scary thought!)—of the Church, that it won’t turn on us—and on the ‘unsaved’ world—and even at the cost of becoming hirelings instead of true shepherds—to force us into a version of the life of salvation that is theirs, not Christ’s.

Theirs? Well, yes, for the life of salvation in the Church is actually ours—the whole people of Christ’s—but there are always ‘those others’ who, depending on our laxity and our easy regress into being mere laity, will take every chance they get to talk us down, ‘dumbing us down’ is the current expression, so they can turn the Church of God into a multi-level religious marketplace, souls and sometimes even bodies sold to the highest, or most prestigious, bidder. Humanity doesn’t change. I mean, human nature is still subject to the built-in law of failure—in plain English, ‘sin’—and being ‘in the Church’ visibly doesn’t cure us of it if we don’t want to cured, people satisfied to be sick, as long as they can rule.

No, brethren, this is not a diatribe against the Church and its human heads. The Church is still, above all else, the Bride of Christ, and He is still her one and only Head, so there need be no reformation by malcontents. Christ is here with us. He is in our midst. He is and always shall be. Till the end of time. Do we ever ask ourselves what that means? Do we ever ask ourselves if it’s religion or our risen Lord, our divine Master, our Savior Christ, who is the true life, both ‘on earth as in heaven,’ of us, His people? If there is religion, it can’t be anything other than living in, walking in the presence of the God-man. This is what I believe the bishop of East Anglia is talking about, and maybe even what Socrates yearns for.

Yes, I know it is, even though they appear to be looking for it from opposite directions. ‘ ... the possibility of a different way of living, a world transformed by faith, hope and love – the world of the one true God – who shares in our human life so that we might one day share in his eternal life.’ How is it that we cannot grasp that the Church is a pan-human reality? that all human beings—‘all’ means ‘everyone’ irrespective of any other ‘fact’ about them—is automatically a member, redeemed by Christ through His self-sacrifice and reconciled to the Father, even when they don’t know it, even when they don’t care about it because they are not instructed? How long must He wait for us to be members of one another?

Members of everyone we despise, because we are better than them? because they don’t believe what we believe, think like we do, because they’re irreligious and unrighteous by our standards? All of these gripes and prejudices of ours are our real religion, that which drives those outside either to contempt or to despair, so we can’t really be expected to include everyone, can we? Lord, have mercy! In a moment of clarity, we who are ‘of sinners the chief,’ could pray to God, ‘Religion is our protection, against You,’ and at last unbend our wills and let His straighten us. Yes, not our wills, but His. Yes, not my will, but Yours, O Lord. Make me an instrument of Your peace, for night is coming, when no one can work.

Yes, the world’s last night will soon be upon us, the night that sees the world’s Creator and Recreator betrayed by the kiss of one He loves, the night that sees His captors slain in the spirit at His admission to their question, ‘I am He!’ the night that sees His followers scatter in fear, on the morrow to separate into twin camps, those who hide themselves from His glory as He is lifted up, and those who in His face ask for His execution, their ‘Crucify Him!’ unknowingly acclaiming Him the King of all. On that night all the religions of the earth are put to shame as their Hades-bound adherents are set free once and for all, and death the deceiver’s lying mouth is forever shut, its teeth shattered, and its captives freed.

Soon, we shall hear, ‘Shine, shine, O new Jerusalem…’

Dignity of the thrones

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.” “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said. “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” “We can,” they answered. Jesus said to them, “You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.”
Mark 10:35-40

Christians, like James and John, have a request to make of their Lord. They want to be near Him, but they think that this means to be enthroned at His right and left. After all, they know the scripture which says they have been given an unshakable kingdom, and that Christ has gone to prepare a place for them in His Father’s house, a mansion in fact. That is the glory and reward of following Jesus, they believe: to reign with Him. They never think past the dignity of the thrones, their ideas of what that really means. It becomes a picture for them of what their devotion to Christ deserves, their heavenly reward.

James and John had faith in Jesus. They knew who He was, that He was the Anointed One, the true King of Israel, and the Holy One. They could have no other idea of His role but what they had been brought up believing about Mashiach. They were excited beyond measure, they were willing to risk everything, because they knew for sure that He was the One sent by God to redeem Israel, and they had been chosen by Him as companions. They were special. Being confident of this, of their closeness to the Redeemer, they felt emboldened to ask Him for a favor.

Surely, the Christ can grant whatever He wants to anyone He likes. After all, He has said, ‘As the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so the Son gives life to anyone He chooses’ (John 5:21). If He can give life, surely there is nothing He cannot give. Why not ask Him this, to sit enthroned at His right and at His left? Why wouldn’t He do that for us? He loves us more than anyone, and He can do anything. Forgetting that the Son is not the Father, we ask Him for what it is not His to give. Is it our faith that prompts us, or something else?

But it is not Christ’s to say ‘yes and no’: for with Christ it is always ‘yes’ (2 Corinthians 1:19), and so He prefaces His ‘yes’ with a simple warning, ‘You don’t know what you are asking,’ and then asks them a simple question, ‘Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?’ This is the same question He asks us when we go forward to meet Him in baptism. We think it over quickly and rush to respond, ‘Yes, Lord, whatever is necessary, I will do it’ and we mumble a proviso, ‘if I can.’ Like James and John, we know who it is we’ve believed in, and what He can grant us. We are already counting on it.

Real life breaks in on our dreaming of heaven, and the crowns and thrones we imagine in our spiritual infancy grow stranger as they begin to materialize before our lives. Do we really want to be at His right and left? What if that means we will be seen and treated as criminals? What if that means we will be accused, judged and condemned? And for things we may not even have done? What if that means desertion by a husband or wife? Or betrayal by our closest friend? What if it means being cast out of the family, being shunned, despised, left for dead?

‘You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.’ Now, we realize that His ‘yes’ means more than we ever thought possible. Now we grasp what He meant when He asked us if we could down the cup and endure the baptism that He did, and we wonder how we could not have noticed where all this was leading us. Discipleship to Jesus, following the greater commandment to love God and neighbor, leads to this?

It is true, my brothers. Don’t be surprised if it happens to you. Don’t be astonished if Christ really answers your prayer and grants your request. It may not look like what you were expecting. It doesn’t have to conform to your reading of scripture, or to what your pastor told you yesterday. The promises of God are not man’s promises, but something better: God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, yet we are held, we are lifted up in His thoughts to a place on high with Him, to share in the high priesthood of His Son, whose kingdom is the Cross, by which joy has come to the whole universe.

Written on the palms

Mary of Egypt, yes, tomorrow is her ‘Sunday,’ and her feast-day is just around the corner, on April 1st. I always thought it was appropriate that her feast was the same as our ‘feast of fools’ or April Fools Day, though her life story puts almost every other fool on the planet to shame. She gave up a life of self-indulgence and entered what to most of us would be a life of hell on earth. No clothes, no house, no food, no friends, no entertainment, not even church!

As a Sunday School teacher, it was always a challenge for me, how to explain her story to my group of sixth grade students, most of whom were from faithfully correct and affluent families. One or two of the boys were working class and probably had different experiences than the others of what ‘real life’ is like. But most of my students were both young and inexperienced, well, so I thought. It was still the early 90’s and all the girls, anyway, were still virgins.

Since the Church has made the story of Mary of Egypt as visible as possible, giving her not one but two commemorations, and one of them a Sunday during Lent, she has become an important if misunderstood symbol of personal self-denial, an historical example of one woman living out the precious words of Christ, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me’ (Matthew 16:24).

And could anyone’s life be more extreme? The excitement of the story, both when it first appeared centuries ago in her very generation, and now, seems to stem from the theme of ‘filthy prostitute becomes holy saint,’ it centers on the subject of sex, first its abject misuse, then its complete disuse. There is simply no in-between. Mary’s conscience could not find a way to cleanse herself of her past except by becoming an altogether new creature.

And what a creature! After hearing the story year after year, my memory sees nothing much but the bright white naked female ascetic lying dead face down in the sand, waiting for burial. Of course, I know the whole story more or less by heart. I always wondered, when she entered the life of a prostitute, how it wasn’t noticed that she was probably forced into it, or even sold into it, by poverty. Or how it went without remark that she was a Christian, even if in name only.

Or does sexual immorality in a Christian make one a non-Christian? I don’t know, but if it does, then a large part of the high profile ‘Christian’ world is probably not what they say they are. I also asked myself, who were these men taking ship to go on pilgrimage to Jerusalem who would offer a berth to an obvious harlot, so that she could see the Holy City too? The story implies they didn’t just give her clean passage, but made use of her along the way, yet they, not she, were able to enter the church.

There, she was stopped from entering by an invisible force, while her generous clients went in. That always baffled me. Perhaps they didn’t belong to Christ and the Theotokos, so they could go in and venerate the Holy Cross, as religious tourists, but not as Christians, surely? But Mary, because of her unblameless life, was stopped and denied entry, until she should be made blameless. How is it that she, a prostitute of Egypt, must be purified before kissing the Cross, when her clients went right in?

For me this story is not about sexual sin being cleansed by lifelong self-denial, but about how God works, how He selects those who are His, befriends and leads them, even before they are worthy, sometimes even before they recognize who it is that has chosen them. Nobody knows what happened to those pilgrim men who had their way with Mary on the ship. They probably venerated the relics and attended the services and returned home to their wives and families, unchanged.

But we do know what happened to Mary. At least we know a very little part of what happened to her, all that she was able to tell us. The most important and edifying part is her testimony of what is possible with God. What she tells us seems miraculous to us. Before leaving for the desert beyond the Jordan she bought a couple of loaves of bread. That’s what sustained her, along with wild plants, for fifty years. This reminds us of Christ’s words that ‘man does not live by bread alone…’

She wandered, yes, for ‘all who wander are not lost’ as the saying goes, in the wilderness in places where there was nobody to see her, and naked, for the clothing she left with had worn out and fallen off her frame. This reminds us of the apostle’s words that ‘all who have been baptized have been clothed in Christ…’ and also reflects upon Mary’s reality: Like Adam and Eve before the fall, Paradise had been opened to her, to whom clothing was wholly unnecessary.

Yes, her story is another glimpse into the reality of the earthly Paradise, which we know, or at least believe, has not disappeared from the earth, but which is invisible to us because of our transgressions and our willfulness to sin. Mary is the real Psyche whose palace and kingdom we cannot see, just as the mythical Psyche’s sisters could not see her sky palace on the holy mountain.

But her life has also, like Paradise, not disappeared from the earth. She is still with us, yes, still here with us. What to us would be unendurable ascetic suffering is to her walking in the Light of the Lord. Though her body now rests in an unmarked grave, her soul was not abandoned to Hades, but with the saints continues to sojourn in the heavenly Paradise of which our earthly one, even while invisible to most of us, is the dim reflection despite its glory. How can we join her?

For now, she is no longer a prostitute nor, in the regeneration of Christ, has she ever been, for He that makes all things new has already trampled death by death, and she who once had a beginning and now is without end, partakes also of the Divine Nature, and has neither beginning nor end. So it is with us, who following Christ, allowing Him to do in us what He did in her, and forever, will find ourselves hidden in the cleft of the Rock, and our names written on the palms of the Lord of Life.