It is Inevitable

Our "auxiliary" Bishop (don't ask me, I don't know exactly what the "auxiliary" stands for either) was in town this past weekend. Since I still have some sort of adolescent issue with authority, I'm never all that excited when bosses or hierarchs of any kind show up. But I must admit, we are fortunate to have such a down-to-earth man in Bishop Benjamin. Liturgically, it is wonderful to have the Bishop present during services - the "icon" of heavenly worship is complete, and every once in a while you get glimpses of what it's like in the kingdom of God. It brings the "summation of all things" just a little bit closer to the present moment. But with Bp. Benjamin, even when he stood up for an hour yesterday at Brunch for a Q&A session, it was a breath of fresh air. One thing he said really caught my attention, which is what I wanted to write about.

He was responding to a question about Orthodoxy and mission - someone had asked why folks have to literally stumble into services to discover Orthodoxy. He had a couple of things to say about that, and then remarked:

This country hasn't really noticed us yet. But when they do, they are going to have a big problem with us because the Orthodox way of life is the most serious threat to "this world's" culture there is.

I immediately thought of the martyrs in the first couple of centuries after Christ's resurrection from the dead. Rome hated Christians because they were such a pain in the cultural ass. They wouldn't "go along with the program" in order to keep the civil peace, and thousands of martyrs died at the hands of the government just like Jesus had forewarned them. These Christians were not "activists" (i.e. they weren't making public displays of protest, etc.) - they just had a stronger loyalty to God's kingdom than to Rome's kingdom.

That is the thing that Orthodoxy has preserved intact in its' liturgical life - this loyalty to true culture - the Kingdom of God. And when a people keeps that tradition alive liturgically, it inevitably spills over into all the other areas of their life and the way they interact with the "culture at large." In a sense, that is the whole purpose of ritual - to preserve, protect and proclaim a way of life. I believe Bp. Benjamin may be correct. When our self-serving, self-seeking, self-directed culture finally wakes up and notices Orthodoxy, all hell will break loose. It is inevitable.

God Started It

Evidently, there's a lot riding on forgiveness.

For if you forgive men their trespasses,
your heavenly Father also will forgive you;
but if you do not forgive men their trespasses,
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
-Mt. 6:14-15

Not only that, but forgiveness seems to be connected to some other relational "attitudes" as well...

Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For the measure you give will be the measure you get back.
-Lk. 6:37-38

Does the order of things seem strange to you? It did to me at first. That is, first I have to forgive, then I'm forgiven. First, I have to avoid being judgmental, then I won't be judged. First, I have to stop myself from condemning others, then I won't be condemned, etc. The reason this "order" of things bugged me is because for as long as I can remember, I've been taught as a Christian that I can only love because God first loved me. I think the Apostle John said that somewhere. So what gives? Why does Jesus seem to contradict John? Well, I took Fr. Thomas Hopko's advice when he says, "It helps to read the whole passage" and went back and did that. And it did help.

First, we are indebted to God. He brought us into existence because He loves us, but we do not reciprocate. Every time we grumble about our "circumstances" we are refusing to love God. Every time we act out of self-interest, we are refusing to love our neighbor. All of us have done both from our earliest years, and so our debts (failures to love) have piled up. When we eventually break down, for whatever reason, and cry out to God, "Forgive me!" - He does. Ritually, this is called baptism, and if you want to know the depths of this "transaction", you'll need to experience baptism. But after baptism, we still have constant failures of love, along with everyone else around us. So one of the main ways we practically express love to each other is through forgiveness.

It is in this context...that is, a post-"baptism" context...that Jesus tells the parable (Mt. 18) and gives his so-called "Sermon on the Mount" (Lk. 6). He does not teach these things to "the masses," but rather to His disciples and Peter in particular in the Mt. 18 passage. So, these disciples have already had their "accounts" settled (cf. the difference between "bathing" and "feet washing" in Jn. 13.) As in the parable of the unmerciful servant, the disciples had all gone to the king begging forgiveness and the king granted it. That is, Jesus had already forgiven them which is evidenced by their discipleship.

Jesus appears to be explaining how thing are in "the kingdom of God"; forgive...and be forgiven; condemn not...and be not condemned, etc. It's not that they (we) are being asked to love first, but rather they (we) are being warned that things can change in an instant between us and our Lord if we hold back forgivness, condemn, act like a judge, etc. Because in God's kingdom, we are expected to act like our King. Like I said in the beginning of this entry...a lot does depend on forgiveness. But not everything. God starts everthing.

Screwtape Revisited

Nice "extension" of C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters over at the National Review. Billy Bob says "Click it!"

Marriage

My friend and brother Juan wrote the following poem that seems to me to be the distillation of many books on the subject. I think it is beautiful and nourishing. I didn't ask his permission to post this because he may be too humble to allow it. So Juan, if you see this, I ask your forgiveness.

ONE FLESH

Sex is
An afterthought
In marriage
Good family
And good medicine
Are the trophies
Of the bedroom

by Juan Martinez

Metaphysical Suicide

I lost myself today. I condemned my neighbor. It was subtle. It seemed right and felt good. But the life drained from me like water down a sink. Then I read something and remembered who I am:

There is no such thing as an individual. He was created, probably, in a Western European university. We don't recognize our essential communion. I don't look at you and say, "You are my life." Modern interpretations of the commandment in the Torah (Old Testament Law) reflect this individualistic attitude. The first commandment is that you love God with all your mind, all your soul, and all your strength; and the second is that you love your neighbor as yourself. The only way you can prove you love God is by loving your neighbor, and the only way you can love your neighbor in this world is by endless forgiveness. So "love your neighbor as yourself."

However in certain modern editions of the Bible, I have seen this translated as, "You shall love your neighbor as you love yourself." But that's not what it says.

I recall a televised discussion program in which we were asked what was most important in Christianity. Part of what I said was that the only way we can find ourselves is to deny ourselves. That's Christ's teaching. If you cling to yourself, you lose yourself. The unwillingness to forgive is the ultimate act of not wanting to let yourself go. You want to defend yourself, assert yourself, protect yourself. There is a consistent line through the Gospel -- if you want to be the first you must will to be the last. The other fellow, who taught the psychology of religion at a Protestant seminary, said, "What you are saying is the source of the neuroses of Western society. What we need is healthy self-love and healthy self-esteem". Then he quoted that line, "You shall love your neighbor as you love yourself." He insisted that you must love yourself first and have a sense of dignity. If one has that, forgiveness is either out of the question or an act of condescension toward the poor sinner. It is no longer an identification with the other as a sinner, too.

As we were leaving, a venerable old rabbi with a shining face called us over. "That line, you know, comes from the Torah, from Leviticus," he said, "and it cannot possibly be translated 'love your neighbor as you love yourself.' It says, 'You shall love your neighbor as being your own self.' Your neighbor is your true self. You have no self in yourself.

After this I started reading the Church Fathers in this light, and that's what they all say -- "Your brother is your life." I have no self in myself except the one that is fulfilled by loving the other. The Trinitarian character of God is a metaphysical absolute here, so to speak. God's own self is another -- His Son. The same thing happens on the human level.

[Excerpt from "Forgiveness: Breaking the Chain of Evil", by Father Thomas Hopko, Published by Washington Orthodox Clergy Association, June 23, 2003]

Condemnation springs from a heart not interested in forgiveness, and "losing myself" is just a pleasant way of saying I committed metaphysical suicide...unassisted. Unlike assisted suicide...it hurt like hell.

The Two Natures of Light

One hundred years ago today, Einstein finished a paper in which he put forth his idea that light has a dual nature - wave and particle. It was met with great skepticism, but eventually the scientific community accepted it as true. They were talking about it on NPR this morning, and someone being interviewed remarked that Einstein had a certain "intellectual humility" which allowed him to have this insight. It struck me that it takes the exact same humility of mind to accept the dual nature of Christ, "The true light that gives light to every man..." (John 1:9). Christ also has two natures - God and man - and yet is one person (hypostasis). As I reflected on this, the opening Psalm of Vespers (103, LXX numbering) came to mind which blesses God for the many ways creation reveals the nature of its Creator. I love the fact that the internal structure and beauty (liturgically, poetically) of the Church Services are beginning to organize my cluttered mind. Now I have a place to "hang" information like this in its proper place.

Angel Dust

Ned (not his real name) is perhaps the dirtiest man I’ve ever encountered. He’s homeless, alcoholic, and ironically overweight. Rumor has it he used to have a good job at a high-tech firm. I’ve only heard that second-hand, so I don’t know if it is true or not. For some reason, he seems to blame former Portland Mayor, Vera Katz for ruining his life. A couple years ago he bragged to me about hanging out on Ms. Katz lawn, hurling invectives. If that's true, he probably hurled a few other things as well. Regardless, he’s somewhat articulate (when sober), well-read, and obviously intelligent…but very, very dirty, and seems cynical, full of bitterness, and anger boils just beneath the surface - just generally unpleasant. He’s a regular at Fr. Nicholas’ “Grilled Cheese Diner” (our front porch.) I never know what to say or do when I run into him. Every single time, I feel uneasy and a little repulsed…OK, VERY repulsed…and somewhat defensive, which is a sure giveaway that I feel a bit guilty for my lack of love towards Ned. I’ve often wondered if I could bring myself to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or even just clean him up if I found him gurgling in his own vomit. I won’t know for sure unless God decides to test me in that way - which is God's business, not mine. On the other hand, I’ve also sometimes wondered if Ned is an angel. That is, maybe I’m being tested already.

Graffiti and the Remembrance of Death

Our mind is so darkened by the fall that unless we force ourselves to remember death we can completely forget about it. When we forget about death, then we begin to live on earth as if we were immortal, and we sacrifice all our activity to the world without concerning ourselves in the least either about the fearful transition to eternity or about our fate in eternity...On the other hand, he who often remembers the death of the body rises from the dead in soul. He lives on earth like a stranger in an inn...No earthly beauty, no earthly pleasure draws his attention or his love. He condemns no one, for he remembers that at the judgment of God such judgment will be passed on him as he passed here on his neighbors.

The Arena, by Bishop Ignatius Brianchaninov

On my train ride in this morning, I watched as a freight train lumbered along beside us on parallel tracks, headed in the same direction. We were going a little faster, so the relative speed between us provided me with a slow and colorful display of graffiti splashed up on the sides of the freight train. Graffiti normally irritates me, but not this morning. I enjoyed it. It was like a portable museum dedicated to the merciful transience of life.

Watch

We read the following after stumbling through the first day of Lenten Matins this morning. Salve for the soul and weak knees.

Stand fast on spiritual watch, because you don't know when the Lord will call you to Himself. In your earthly life be ready at any moment to give Him an account. Beware that the enemy does not catch you in his nets, that he not deceive you causing you to fall into temptation. Daily examine your conscience; try the purity of your thoughts, your intentions.

There was a king who had a wicked son. Having no hope that he would change for the better, the father condemned the son to death. He gave him a month to prepare.

The month went by, and the father summoned the son. To his surprise he saw that the young man was noticeably changed: his face was thin and drawn, and his whole body looked as if it had suffered.

"How is it that such a transformation has come over you, my son?" the father asked.

"My father and my lord," replied the son, "how could I not change when each passing day brought me closer to death?"

"Good, my son," remarked the king. "Since you have evidently come to your senses, I shall pardon you. However, you must maintain this vigilant disposition of soul for the rest of your life."

"Father," replied the son, "that's impossible. How can I withstand the countless seductions and temptations?"

Then the king ordered that a vessel be brought, full of oil, and he told his son: "Take this vessel and carry it along all the streets of the city. Following you will be two soldiers with sharp swords. If you spill so much as a single drop they will cut off your head."

The son obeyed. With light, careful steps, he walked along all the streets, the soldiers accompanying him, and he did not spill a drop.

When he returned to the castle, the father asked, "My son, what did you see as you were walking through the city?"

"I saw nothing."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" said the king.

"Today is a holiday; you must have seen the booths with all kinds of trinkets, many carriages, people animals..."

"I didn't notice any of that," said the son. "All my attention was focussed on the oil in the vessel. I was afraid to spill a drop and thereby lose my life."

"Quite right, my son," said the king. "Keep this lesson in mind for the rest of you life. Be as vigilant over your soul as you were today over the oil in the vessel. Turn your thoughts away from what will soon pass away, and keep them focused on what is eternal. You will be followed not by armed soldiers but by death to which we are brought closer by every day. Be very careful to guard your soul from all ruinous temptations."

The son obeyed his father, and lived happily.

Watch, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. (ICor. 16:13).

The Apostle gives Christians this important counsel to bring their attention to the danger of this world, to summon them to frequent examination of their hearts, because without this one can easily bring to ruin the purity and ardor of one's faith and unnoticeably cross over to the side of evil and faithlessness.

Just as a basic concern is to be careful of anything that might be harmful to our physical health, so our spiritual concern should watch out for anything that might harm our spiritual life and the work of faith and salvation. Therefore, carefully and attentively assess your inner impulses: are they from God or from the spirit of evil? Beware of temptations from this world and from worldly people; beware of hidden inner temptations which come from the spirit of indifference and carelessness in prayer, from the waning of Christian love.

If we turn our attention to our mind, we notice a torrent of successive thoughts and ideas. This torrent is uninterrupted; it is racing everywhere and at all times: at home, in church, at work, when we read, when we converse. It is usually called thinking, writes Bishop Theophan the Recluse, but in fact it is a disturbance of the mind, a scattering, a lack of concentration and attention. The same happens with the heart. Have you ever observed the life of the heart? Try it even for a short time and see what you find. Something unpleasant happens, and you get irritated; some misfortune occurs, and you pity yourself; you see someone whom you dislike, and animosity wells up within you; you meet one of your equals who has now outdistanced you on the social scale, and you begin to envy him; you think of your talents and capabilities, and you begin to grow proud... All this is rottenness: vainglory, carnal desire, gluttony, laziness, malice-one on top of the other, they destroy the heart. And all of this can pass through the heart in a matter of minutes. For this reason one ascetic, who was extremely attentive to himself, was quite right in saying that "man's heart is filled with poisonous serpents. Only the hearts of saints are free from these serpents, the passions."

But such freedom is attained only through a long and difficult process of self-knowledge, working on oneself and being vigilant towards one's inner life, i.e., the soul.

Be careful. Watch out for your soul! Turn your thoughts away from what will soon pass away and turn them towards what is eternal. Here you will find the happiness that your soul seeks, that your heart thirsts for.

by St. John Maximovitch
(Translated from Pravoslavnaya Rus) and taken from
ORTHODOX AMERICA, Vol. XIV, No. 2-3, September-October, 1993

We Have to Start Somewhere

We all want to be loved. We all want to feel loved. Probably nothing else matters to us as much as that in one way or another. I want it for myself, and I want to provide it for those around me, especially the ones closest and dearest to me. But I usually don't succeed in any sort of consistent way. We enter the long struggle of fasting and increased prayers of Great Lent at Vespers this Sunday - the "Sunday of Forgiveness". During this service we ask and grant forgiveness of one another - personally. As I said - I don't even live up to my own poor standards of love, much less those of God's. So I need to ask forgiveness and have no right to deny anyone else forgiveness. But rather than attempt to soothe my conscience or feel pious Sunday night, I'm going to try and approach this service as a simple opportunity to express love in a practical way. I know I'm not unique. We all fail miserably in our relationships by neglecting, listening half-heartedly, holding on to hurts, mistrusting, misunderstanding, manipulating, betraying, bullying, judging, condemning, etc. So what is left for us but to forgive and be forgiven? Isn't letting each other off the hook the best way to show each other love? What can be more healing than to say from my heart, "Forgive me a sinner" and hear, "God forgives"? Of course healing is not an end in itself. We are healed for a reason - so that we can love. But we have to start somewhere.