Who goes there

In a dark world,
Standing guard against a foe,
‘Who goes there?’

Enemies bound by blood,
Converge before a stone,
They say it heals them.

Many mothers ago,
Carried in one’s arms,
That Child heals.

His power resides
Not in feldspar or crystal
And yet they bow.

Neither confess an image
Carved by human hand,
And yet they pray.

In different tongues
But hearts of faith
Their sorrows cry.

‘Who goes there?’
Sentries invisible watch
The beaten path.

A door propped open
Into the abyss of life,
Beckons a rocky hand.

Clay pigeons came alive
In legends told
But here, Life flows.

War, cease from struggle
Before the throne,
Receive His peace.

In a dark world,
A Light enlightens him
Who goes there.

— Romanós

Κρισις και ελεος

People seldom judge you for your real faults. Instead, they judge you for their own faults which they apply to their image of you, or they judge you for not living up to their expectations, or because they think you are not following the rules—not their rules, of course, but the Rules.

Your real faults—and here you may or may not know them—usually go unnoticed, uncriticised. It takes too much time and trouble to look at people as they really are. It’s easier to imagine them. It’s easier to worship, or to demonise them, but to take them ‘as is’, we haven’t time.

Ever afraid to come home? If the answer is ‘yes’ then it is a question of having a home at all, because home is all about welcome, acceptance, affirmation, interest in one another, love. ‘Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere…’

He wasn’t talking only about a comfortable spot to rest. In all the world, no such place was found for Him, or offered, until a rich man offered His newly excavated tomb, and there, He was finally able ‘to lay His head’. Is this the only home we have to offer those we say we love?

Brethren, let us love one another, as the holy apostle says, quoting His Divine Master who also says it to us. He never said, ‘Judge one another as I have judged you,’ but rather, ‘Love one another as I have loved you. Then you will be My disciples. Greater love has no man than this…’

Judgment is the law of this present age.
Mercy is the law of the age to come.
‘How blessed are the merciful,
for they shall have mercy shown them.’

Version française

Till we leave our tombs

Whenever I look back—and I try not to, but sometimes it happens—whenever I look back at my life, my mind automatically starts up analyzing, measuring and weighing my acts, those of others, judging my mistakes, pushing me to lamenting, but not to guilt—I don't know why, but I've never been able to feel guilty about anything since I met the Lord at age 24. But I remember a talk I had with the Lord in the garden arbor on the evening of Yom Kippur a few years ago, which was a sort of turning point in my life in middle age.

Yes, the past can be looked at as wasted, or as preparation, but the testimony of the Scriptures leans toward the second view, that of preparation.

That we have wasted the opportunities God keeps sending us, that seem inherent in time itself as His gift, is without doubt. That we have been taught by our mistakes and strengthened by withstanding oppressions, that we have patiently endured under trials, even under the trial of our own helplessness and sin, is also without doubt.

God is good, and as the holy apostle says, ‘He turns everything into good for those who seek Him.’

To know that my earthly life will end soon fills me with joy.

Soon? Am I prophesying my own death?
No, but I already find myself at that moment which will be my last on earth, I am experiencing that rapid flipping through the pages of the book of my life that happens as we are judged, watching what I did with Christ walking along beside me, and knowing that His love is unconditional and His mercy infinite. ‘Whoever believes in Me…’

Joy? Am I happy that my earthly life will end?
Yes, because it could not continue, I cannot continue, for ever, as I now am. I know that. It isn't as though we will be magically transformed, ‘dying and going to heaven’ to be angels as some have imagined. No, dying in Christ is to happily be ended as what we think of as ‘human,’ what I think of as ‘myself,’ and to vanish without a trace, to emerge ‘on the other side’ as a being I could never imagine here and now, so different from what I now am, that it would be easier for a baby to remember its life in the womb than it would be for that new creature I will have become to imagine my life on earth.

This is true joy, to be happy to die, knowing real life doesn't begin
till we leave our tombs.

Right there! That’s our life.

The following post is from Again and Again,

the weblog of Fr Milovan Katanic…

I suppose that it can be said of the lives of the Saints that we can’t really relate to them. Fully, that is; the sufferings of St. George, the kindness of St. Nicholas, the charity of the unmercenaries and so forth. Looking at the life of St. Mary of Egypt we see just how true that is. We consider her life before the desert and we think to ourselves that we too are sinners but we’re not that bad. We consider her life of in the desert and we think to ourselves that we too repent of our sins but we don’t go that far. It seems as though her life goes from one extreme to another.

There is, however, that one moment in her life when she is before the icon of the Most Holy Theotokos in that church in Jerusalem. An invisible force is preventing her from going in. She weeps before the icon. She wants to change. Right there! That’s our life. We’re not out committing the sins she committed, then again we’re not pushing ourselves to the fullest in our dedication to God to the measure she did. But we weep, metaphorically at least, in our prayers. We want to change and we will; some day; there is time yet.

This, it seems, is our place in the lives of the Saints. We belong neither to those 17 years of debauchery nor in the 47 years of repentance. How long did she stand before the icon before entering the church? A few minutes perhaps? There is, it would seem, in those few moments,the essence of our spiritual life.

That is how we can compare to the Saints. Alas, no comparison at all.

Nothing is mightier

For he who is praying as he ought, and fasting, has not many wants, and he who has not many wants is not covetous.

He who fasts is light, and winged, and prays with wakefulness, and quenches his wicked lusts, and propitiates God, and humbles his soul when lifted up.

Nothing is mightier than the man who prays sincerely.

— John Chrysostom

One

As I was reading the beginning of the letter of James the brother of God, I was touched by the tender care and intimate way of speaking that the apostle employs in writing his letter, and to people whom he didn’t even know face to face—to the twelve tribes of the diaspora—and even to us.

And I thought of how this letter along with the others is called the Word of God, is made to be the very words of God to us, even though in its language it is just the words of men. Yet we call the epistles, the writings of the apostles, the Word of God, scripture no less than the Gospels or the Tanakh.

It seems to me that even the holy and divine Scriptures demonstrate the One God who in Holy Triad loves as three, though He is One. The Tanakh, that is, the Old Testament, seems to be the message of the Heavenly Father, who speaks to us Himself, as His holy prophets fade into nothing as they speak.

The Gospels seem to be the message of the Only-Begotten Son who is also the Word of God, which He brought into our midst not by any writing of His own, but by His being: Now the Father whom no man has seen or can ever see becomes visible in the Son, no longer hidden in clouds, but revealing His face.

The Acts of the holy apostles and their Letters, these seem to be the message of the Holy and Life-Creating Spirit, who though invisible Himself, maintains the visible presence of Christ in our midst, as the brother who walks beside us. Invisible God becomes visible Christ becomes tangible brother man.

Like the water-gushing rock that followed Israel as they moved through the wilderness shielded from the heat of the sun by the cloud by day, illumined and warmed and protected in the dark nights by the pillar of flame, our God the Holy Triad has encircled us by the words of His holy and divine Scriptures.

Not satisfied to rule us with laws, He came among us to free us to righteousness by love, and now lives among us, in us, with us, upon us, even as us: we have the Message in its fullness, of the Father in unapproachable Light, in the Light of the Face of His Son, and by the Light of Tabor in the virgins’ lamps.

Where is the God of gods who summons the earth to His people’s trial, who alone does wonders, of whom we sing, ‘Who is so great a god as our God?’ Does He dwell in the misty mountain tops and thunder in the storm clouds? The glory of the Triad has made His home among us then, now, and ever.

Holy apostles, lovingly plant in us the seed that the Master planted in you, that you write to us who live at the end of time, that the Spirit, Lord and Giver of Life causes to sprout and grow in us, that we too may enter into the mystery of life in the Holy Triad with you, one mind, one will, one heart, one love.

Not even a beginning

Lord, have mercy.

Here we are, on the Sunday of Mary of Egypt, starting the sixth and final week of the Forty Days! At sundown next Friday, Lent is finished, and we enter the twilight, the pre-dawn of the new heavens and the new earth on the Sabbath of Lazaros, where he sleeps in the tomb for four days, in premonition of the Lord’s rest in His life-giving tomb on the following Sabbath. Our trek to the gates of the new paradise, to those gates now open to welcome us in repentance, is almost over, but have we in fact been shriven of our sins and confessed? Have we made our peace?
The gates are open now: they will not be for ever.
Jesus says,

‘Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still together on the way, or your adversary may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny.’
Matthew 5:25-26

Lord, have mercy.

I recall this saying of the Desert Fathers,

They said of the abbot Pambo, that in the hour of his departing from this life, he said to the holy men that stood about him, ‘From the time that I came into this place of solitude and built my cell, and dwelt in it, I do not call to mind that I have eaten bread save what my hands have toiled for, nor repented of any word that I spoke until this hour. And so I go to the Lord, as one that hath not yet made a beginning of serving God.’
The Sayings of the Fathers, Book I, xvi.

I remembered this saying as I was praying upon my bed, thanking the Lord for everything He has given, all that He has provided.
I meditated.

Where can you look, my soul,
where you will not see the signs of His love for you?
Everywhere you turn, outside yourself or within,
are the signs of His love.
The very comforter you lie on to rest, He provided.
Your holy ikons and books,
all your holy things given out of love,
out of solicitude for your needs,
all the gifts of His friendship.

And within, the secret things He has divulged to your soul,
and the love with which He taught you
the languages of His Holy Scripture.
And through all your lonelinesses and trials,
He has stood beside you,
comforting and defending you, never judging you,
because He knows the Word planted in you
will purify you and raise you after any possible fall.
Such was and is His great love for you, my soul,
such was and is His respect for you.

Yet, like a stranger you turn away from Him,
as if He were an enemy to be despised.
You judge Him, as if He were a criminal to be punished.
Worse than His people who accused Him,
when He fed them with manna and quails and gave them drink
from a rock that followed them.
And worse even than them whom He healed and fed,
and who nevertheless gave Him up to be crucified.

What madness is this?
What ingratitude hidden amidst the foliage of piety?
Is this the kind of Jew you are, my soul,
continuing the work of your fathers who slew the prophets?

Lord, have mercy.

I go to You, Lord,
as one who has not yet made a beginning of serving You,
yet the time is close.

Repent for me, Spirit of God,
press me harder through the sieve of repentance.
Hold back my coarse and useless dust,
let through only the flour refined by Your grace.
Moisten me, then, with real tears and knead me,
yeastless, into a level loaf.
Pierce me all over,
that in the earthen oven of tribulation
my body may bear the stripes darkened by the fire,
to guide the fingers that must break me in pieces
for the brethren.

Yes, Lord, I go to You as one
who has made not even a beginning of serving you.

Lord, have mercy.

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 about seven or eight 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.

Nothing but Jesus

The image inset left is a calligraphic ikon of the Lord's Prayer in Arabic. The islamic prohibition of ikons resulted in a culture just as permeated with calligraphy ikons as the Christian East is permeated with graphic ikons, such as the Pantokrator above. To bridge the gap—and infuriate islamic clerics—Arab converts to modern Christian churches produce calligraphy ikons of bible verses like this one. It even mimics the general layout of the Orthodox ikon. But that's not my topic.

I started watching a music video of an Arab female vocalist singing Psalm 51 in Arabic, but I couldn't get past the instrumental introduction and her singing of the first few verses. Just as I do not attend concerts of Byzantine chant or other music associated with Orthodox worship, I don't attend or watch concerts of any kind of worship music, not even Christmas carols. However, this is just me.

Worship is worship, and music as the expression of worship belongs only in the home and in the temple of God, nowhere else. If you carry the temple with you into the world, when you are evangelizing, reading the scriptures and singing the prayers publicly, that is still the temple. When you are teaching the chants and preparing people for worship, that is the home. Really, there is only one place where worship belongs, and it is in the home; the temple is the macro and the family ikon corner the micro, and everything else is in between.

So people were rejoicing that Arab people are finally turning from Islam and finding Jesus, and are now able to worship the true God and sing all those wonderful new pop Christian songs in Arabic, even Psalm 51 can be sung in Arabic by a beautiful female vocalist.

Psalm 51, and any other psalm, is meant for prayer and meditation. Yes, of course, they can be sung, but still, only for worship. The Christian pop worship style and the presentation of music for religious entertainment are both fundamentally opposed to Orthodoxy, which is just biblical Christianity. It's great that Arab people are becoming Christians, but are they exchanging one religion for another, or are they entering into the freedom of the gospel?

Modern pop Christianity, especially pentecostal, makes huge claims for bringing the world to Christ, but the work of evangelism is done by Christ in us, as we witness for Him one day and one person at a time, with attention, care and commitment.

Arab Orthodox Christianity exists in both Greek and Coptic forms, and I have heard Psalm 51 chanted in Arabic by priests and cantors in the Church. Yes, it's beautiful when chanted in the traditional style, but more than beautiful, it calls the heart to prayer, to pray the words as they are heard being chanted.

This is all there waiting for the Arab peoples to rediscover, but many will have to go through the pasteurization process of pop Christianity, and when they're ready, by the mercy of God may they find out who and what the Church of Christ really is. Until then, they're still on a shaky foundation, trusting in human beings and exulting in the flesh while saying they are in the Spirit, and not realizing how they have been misled.

The greatest lies come in the flashiest wrappers and are bought by the most self-centered customers. The choice is always still out there, though, waiting to be made, no matter how we start out in our belief in Christ. You can't be Christ's and the world's friend at the same time. You can't serve two masters. The stronger desire always wins.

Desire nothing but Jesus.

Kαιρός - Kairós

Βλέπετε οὖν ἀκριβῶς πῶς περιπατεῖτε, μὴ ὡς ἄσοφοι ἀλλ’ ὡς σοφοί,
έξαγοραζόμενοι τὸν καιρόν, ὅτι αἱ ἡμέραι πονηραί εἰσιν.
ΠΡΟΣ ΕΦΕΣΙΟΥΣ 5:15-16

έξαγοραζόμενοι > exagorazómeni > buying up
τὸν καιρόν > ton kairón > kairós time

Jesus once told a parable.
When an owner came seeking fruit and found none, he said to the gardener, “Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?” The gardener replied, “Let it alone, sir, this year also, till I dig about it and fertilize it. Perhaps it will bear fruit next year.”

Give it more time!
Give it another year!
God keeps giving us another year, and each year that passes brings us closer to that day when we shall appear before Him face to face. Each year brings us closer to the Kingdom, closer to eternity when the patient gardener, the Righteous Judge and Lord of the Universe, will come looking for fruit on our tree. But then there will not be another chance. It will be too late. The end will have come. There will not be another year, another opportunity in which to repent and bear fruit for God. Now is the opportune kairós, or time, for repentance and salvation.

We read in St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians, “Look carefully how you walk, not as unwise men, but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16). The key word in this statement by St. Paul is the word “time”. New Testament writers use two Greek words for “time”: chrónos and kairós.

Chrónos time is chronological time, calendar time, time that moves along moment by moment, day by day, year by year. Most people prepare for death by living the chrónos time. They simply try to stay alive as long as possible, adding as many days as they can by proper dieting, staying in shape, taking vitamins, and letting their doctors stretch out their lives with wonder drugs, and intravenous feedings when they get old and sick. Then they die, and that's all there is to it. Death comes when their chrónos, their chronological calendar time, runs out. All they have to show for living is an accumulation of calendar years. “My, he lived to be 100, isn't that wonderful?” we say. It is not wonderful. Not if all one has to show for all those years is calendar time.

But Kairós time is another kind of time, a special kind of time; time which is crucial; time which determines history; time which must be seized by any person who wants life and death to make a difference for time and eternity. Jesus lived a life of kairós time. He never ignored a single moment or opportunity for doing good, for serving, for healing. He used time to the fullest: teaching, comforting, loving, preaching. Even when He was alone, He spent His time in prayer, communicating with God as to how best to use the time that was left in His life.

Thus, when the time came for Jesus to die, He was ready. Even though He was only 33 years old, each precious moment of His life on earth had been used as God had intended for Him to use it. He had used His time as kairós time, time with a purpose, time for serving God and man, time for preparing for eternity.

The Lord gave us chrónos time, calendar time, that we may turn it into kairós time, salvation time, time filled with opportunities for us to respond to God's gracious invitation to the Kingdom; time for bearing in our lives the fruit of faith, hope and love.

The primary meaning of kairós in the New Testament is: the right time, the ripe time, the proper time, the opportune time for salvation. It is in this sense that St. Paul uses the word kairós in 2 Corinthians 6:2: “Behold, now is the acceptable time [ἰδοὺ νῦν καιρὸς εὐπρόσδεκτος]; behold, now is the day of salvation.”

— Fr Anthony Coniaris, Basic Orthodoxy, pp. 1-3

The passage quoted above from one of Fr Coniaris' many books is an example of the kind of Orthodoxy that I encountered when I first joined myself and my family to the Church. It was a living faith lacking worldly credentials and hiding itself from the pomp and glory of this world. Surely it was just as resplendant with its ancient beauty then as always, but there was an unearthly Source to that beauty, it was a beauty not-made-with-hands.

There are many kinds of Orthodoxy in the world today; this is nothing new. There have always been people vying for recognition, promoting the Church, or even the Gospel itself, out of ambition and self-interest.

The true Orthodoxy, my friends and brethren, is not to be found there, but do not let that kind of Orthodoxy prevent you from entering the Holy of Holies, following behind Jesus, our great and everlasting High Priest. That is where true Orthodoxy is to be found.

True Orthodoxy is as the bible teaches; it is only this.

What you have come to is nothing known to the senses: it is not a blazing fire, or a gloom turning to total darkness, or a storm; or trumpeting thunder or the great voice speaking which made everyone that heard it beg that no more should be said to them. They were appalled at the order that was given: If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned. The whole scene was so terrible that Moses said: I am afraid, and was trembling with fright.

But what you have come to is Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem where the millions of angels have gathered for the festival, with the whole Church in which everyone is a ‘first-born son’ and citizen of heaven. You have come to God Himself, the supreme Judge, and been placed with the spirits of the saints who have been made perfect; and to Jesus, the Mediator who brings a New Covenant and a Blood for purification which pleads more insistently than Abel's.

Make sure that you never refuse to listen when He speaks.

Hebrews 12:18-25a Jerusalem Bible

True Orthodoxy is true Life. It is always an invitation.
It's that place where you not only are, but always feel, welcome.
There's no place like home.

Only three know

The expression ‘common knowledge’ refers to things that are known by nearly everyone. A large part of what we know on a daily basis falls into this category. At the other end of the spectrum, there are things that are known by relatively few people, specialized knowledge perhaps. At the opposite extreme from common knowledge there is a zero point for shared knowledge in every individual human being. These are things that only three know. Who are these three? They are yourself, your confessor, and Christ.

We take great care to hide our sins from ourselves and from other people. We’re aware that God knows everything about us, yet we sometimes try to hide our sins even from Him. We are no different from Adam and Eve who covered themselves with fig leaves and hid among the trees of the Garden. Yet the fact is that we sin, and we don’t want to admit it, either from shame or because it would spoil our good reputations. But there is a remedy to our dilemma, to let only three know, and see what happens.

The one to whom we choose to divulge our great secret, that we sin, who can it be? Is it the parish priest, who is always there but not always available? Perhaps if we told him ‘about that’ he would look at us differently, he’d know too much about us and, even though we know he wouldn’t tell anyone, could we stand to look him in the eye after telling him ‘about that’? Maybe it’s a priest in another parish whom we don’t have to see on a weekly basis. That way it could be somewhat anonymous.

I can’t tell you who should be your confessor, the one to whom you confess your sins, but I can tell you this: It should be someone whom you trust, someone who will still love you no matter what you tell him, and that person can be anyone.

It should be someone whom you know will love you and respect you even more after you have confessed your sin than he did before you confessed. It should be someone who loves you enough to wait with you until your heart is ready, and whose gentle coaxing, ‘Tell me,’ loosens the words in your throat. He will not shame you, he will rejoice with you. He will not punish you, he will reward you. He will not bind you, he will free you. He will not let you remain blind, he will give you sight. He will not let you remain sick, he will heal you. He will stand aside and let Christ receive you to Himself. He will let Christ clothe you in the wedding garment of His righteousness and put His betrothal ring on your finger. And he will forget your sin just as Christ does, and invite you to sup with him, and with Him, at the wedding feast of the Lamb.

This is what happens, when you let only three know.


If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.

My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.

1 John 1:7-2:2



A blessed Forty Days to all!

This moment

This is a photo essay composed of twenty-six still shots from the film Andrei Rublev (1966). Though a great film with many interesting details, one scene appeals to me as the heart of the movie and, indeed, the heart of all life. Andrei approaches his spiritual elder brother Danila, both of them monastic ikon painters, after a quarrel they had between them over Andrei’s acceptance of an offer to leave the monastery and write ikons for a cathedral in Moscow. Andrei assumed Danila would come with, as they always did everything together. Danila was put off by not having been consulted, and stubbornly refused to go, and treated Andrei with pretended, but cruel, indifference.

Why do I think this scene is the heart of the film and, yes, of all life? Because the bad work of a moment was reversed by the good grace of this moment. When we come together in self-defenseless repentance, abandoning all blame and fault finding in the other, that state of our soul, that repentance, is not just before our fellow man, but the state of our soul before God. No matter what we believe or don’t believe about the existence, goodness and love of God, about the redemption of the Christ, about life and death, judgment, and heaven or hell, when by grace we are so humbled before a brother, we are approaching God Himself with our hearts in our hands, the only way we can approach Him at all.

And He receives us, and everything we have ever lost through sin is restored. In that fellowship alone ‘we live, and move, and have our being.’ Yes, and that is the heart of all life.

Real trouble

The view ‘that humans are intrinsically good and that under the right social conditions, their good nature will emerge’ is of course not the invention of the Age of Enlightenment, but a reconnexion to the classical world, to the ancient Greeks and, incidentally though not directly, to the East Asians. Thinking of this utopian attitude, I recall a scene from the film The Last Emperor. The governor of the prison in which former emperor Aisingioro Pu Yi was incarcerated, says, ‘We believe that men are born good, we believe…’ and ends with ‘How could this have happened? What made you do these things…?’ and ‘Your salvation lies entirely with you…’ indicating that by self-criticism and going through re-education, even these war criminals could become good men again, as they were created. Yes, with an attitude like that, the Red Chinese had ‘a justification for trying to make them perfect… no matter what it takes.’

Unlike Christianity in the West, the Orthodox East does not accept original sin and total depravity either, nor do the Jews, whose scripture the West refers to in evolving its moral stance. My basic day to day attitude wavers between hope based on the attitude that ‘men are born good’ and the sometimes very distressing experience that if they were ever good, it must’ve been a very long time ago. I lean to the former despite the latter. Most of what we practically believe comes from very unreliable sources: movies, books, songs, or from untypically brutal invasions of our personal lives, rather than from the Bible, which should in every instance be our starting point. But how can we understand its message if we don’t compare it to living in the human world? I am currently captivated by an old Russian film that I have finally gotten a copy of, watched and re-watched in parts for the last few days: Andrei Rublev.

That film, made in 1966 under the repressive Soviet regime, is remarkable for its honest content and historically reliable depiction of life in Russia at the beginning of the 15th century. One of the most beautiful and mysterious scenes is when the monk Andrei Rublev encounters a pagan Russian ‘sabbath’ in the forest, naked men and women running with torches, indiscriminate mating and feasting, playing in the river and launching a ‘sacred image’ in a dugout canoe. The musical accompaniment is what makes it more real than life. I feel like I am there in the Slavic pagan past when I watch it. I mention this only because it is an example of what our own racial past was, at least for those of us who are European, whether Western or Eastern. The savagery of the human condition, very different from the concept of the ‘noble savage’ erroneously attributed to Rousseau, is quite plain throughout this film, both in the pagans, and in the primitive Orthodox believers.

All were more savage and brutal, let alone un-Christian, than we want to admit. This, of course, adds weight to the original sin and total depravity concept. Even in the face of this, I still waver between the East and West, leaning East. Man is basically good, basically wants what is right. What I see ‘original sin’ as, is this: a built-in ‘law of failure’ (I first read about this concept in The Adversary, by Mark Bubeck) that afflicts us, and I am reminded of Paul’s words in his epistle (Romans 7:14-25), ending with ‘Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.’ It seems to me, with all the evidence submitted, we are all still very far from certainty about what is going on here, as to the theories. What we do know, no matter how we cut this cake, is— ‘we’re in real trouble!’

Godless

Last Christmas, the company had an ‘end of year’ party seasonably called a ‘Winter Solstice’ celebration at an expensive restaurant on the Columbia River front. This was a sign, for us employees, that we would soon be out of the economic danger zone. We hadn’t had such a party for a couple of years, and in fact we had been on 4 day work weeks for nearly as long. Coming January, we would be returning to full 5 day employment. Slowly, slowly.

Winter Solstice party? Well, if that isn’t trying to be politically correct, I don’t know what is. Bring the separation of Church and State home this year for Christmas! I’ve worked for the same family for thirty years, and we’d always had Christmas parties, no matter who was invited. This year the middle management—the task of setting up company social functions falls on them—was in a quandary about what to do: A new employee whose religion forbids holidays.

Well, Christian holidays, anyway, and birthdays, and with a poker-faced resistance. So, the culturally unaware decided to do what they thought best, and voilà, we were going to have a Winter Solstice party. After all, that’s not a religious holiday, but simply an astronomical event that conveniently occurs near the end of the calendar year. It could’ve been a lunar eclipse party, or maybe a get-together to celebrate first snowfall, but neither was the case last year.

As it turned out, that employee didn’t sign up for the party, and we thought to ourselves, ‘he’s not coming after all, so why all the fuss?’ but then, at the last minute, he showed up with his family, and we all had a pleasant time. They may not like to observe birthdays and Christian holdays, but this brother, at least, liked to have a good time; he knows how to socialize, even with us ‘unsaved’ folks. So, the party was a success and fun for all.

One of the reasons why the choice of restaurant on the water front was, at night a flotilla of small boats courses up and down in front of the restaurants and hotels, festooned with holiday lights and images for the enjoyment of the parties in progress. We waited and waited and finally, here they came! A strange group of floating light shows and billboards, with every kind of theme, from overtly Christian to merely ‘seasons greetings.’

One of the managers, a young dad with wife and a couple of kids in tow, was exuberating about the floats, mostly, I think, to drum up enthusiasm in others. Ordinarily, he’s not the kind of guy to be exuberant about anything much, except statistics and making money, and he has a hard time finding a sense of humor even more than I do. But here he was, getting bowled over by a bunch of silly floats. ‘Did you see that one? Wow, it even has a crucifix on it!’

A crucifix? Well, not exactly. One of the floats had a cross-shape outline in lights as a back drop to, I think, a nativity scene. I was surprised at his exclamation. He is as thoroughly godless an individual as I have ever met, and his knowledge of Christianity is, at best, garnished from pop culture and films. This is not a judgment on him, but an observation of what effect a full generation of state-sponsored godlessness has on a nation.

Godless, not so much an adjective of contempt as that of sorrow. A whole generation has been brought up in the world’s most ‘Christian’ country, not knowing the difference between a cross and a crucifix. This is more serious than not knowing what a phonograph is. Just writing this word sounds strange to me, and even I looked it up just now to check my memory—it’s really just another name for a record player, isn’t it?

So we hear in church, not every Lord’s Day, but certainly on a few, that we should ‘bring a friend or family member to church,’ but very few do. ‘Everyone who wants to be is already there,’ we think to ourselves, and shrug off the suggestion. Some of us, including me, would be embarrassed by some of the things we see in or at church on a given Sunday, but why don’t we just ‘bring someone along’? Good question. And I wonder, just who is ‘Godless.’

One of us must go

The characters and the scenery may change, but the plot and the story line is always the same: this world is too small for man and God to both be here.

Adam and Eve are still just as alive as they ever were, and so is the serpent.

The Bible is, if it were nothing else, the greatest and longest dramatic masterpiece of all time: man writing his own judgment and sentence on himself, or is it God?

It seems too complete and too honest to have been written just by man. No man or men could bring such a body of evidence, or write such an invincible judgment, or be so generous and merciful in the sentence, to have written this Book. Is that why some of us think it is inspired?

Though we can’t stand the sight of Him, and wish He would go away, He is written all over our flesh and spirit, and we know that He is the Truth about us.

This is the mystery of our very existence, and we know it. We are drawn to the light as the moth is to the flame, attracted to Him, unable to go back to the darkness, yet we know somehow that what we now are will suddenly end, with no turning back, once He draws us to Himself. Yes, for is it not Him drawing us that we experience as this attraction?

Yes, this world is too small for man and God to both be here.

One of us must go, and we know who that one is.

His merciful face

We cannot do wrong, I think, when we judge with the scale weighted in favor of mercy, because God does not judge without mercy those who judge with it.

On the other hand, we can do wrong when we judge with severity, and that also puts us personally in very grave danger, for what can we appeal to in our defense, when we are judged by God?

Christ says, ‘How blessed are the merciful, for they shall have mercy shown them.’
He never says, ‘How blessed are those who judge justly…’ and well could He have quoted reams of laws out of the Torah, or even verses from the psalms, about judging justly if He had so desired. But no, He knew we didn’t need any help there.

As He Himself says, He came not to condemn the world, but in order that the world would be saved through Him. Since all that the world had seen of God up till then was His face of judgment—because that’s all they wanted to see—He had to come in person to show His merciful face.

From now on, no one can ever again put a man-made mask on the face of God, whether too severe or too lax: God Himself has shown up, and shown us ‘the light of His face’ and that is, above all, mercy.

What do you mean? ‘Show us the Father!’
I’ve been with you all this time!
Don’t you know that to see Me is to see the Father?

Remembering Ise 伊勢

When I was at 伊勢神宮, the great shrine at Ise, Japan I had an experience at one of the smaller shrines off the beaten path. It was exactly like all other Shinto shrines, a building with a wide and deep porch all inside an enclosure. Across the front of the building were tied bundles of branches to either side of the gate. In my mind's eye, I suddenly saw the whole enclosed area filled with worshippers standing in the Orthodox fashion, and the bunches of branches were now interspersed with the icons typical of an Orthodox temple, and the central doors were now the Royal Doors. Everything amidst the peaceful forest. No more bowing and clapping hands, no more hanging up paper streamers to the kami. The presence of 大神, Okami, the living One, was there, gathering up His people like babies in a large silk blanket. It was a sudden and piercing insight with other facets I cannot even describe. This is not a vision, just what happens to the heart that is seeking the will of God, when the mind is in the heart.

It is almost three years since that day in April, and my memories of Ise haven't left me yet. God grant mercy to the whole Japanese people in their current adversity, and may He reveal His gracious hand to them as He heals their land.

Please, remember Japan.

日本を忘れないでください.

Nippon o wasurenaide kudasai.