29 January 2012

Homily on the Canaanite Woman

Which of us here wouldn’t welcome a deeper, more abiding faith? With all the problems in our broader world, and the troubles in our own hearts and lives, a strong and vibrant faith could help us cope with life’s twists and turns.
All of us want it. The question is, how do we get it? We need not buy lots of books. We don’t have to travel on distant pilgrimages. We don’t have to change our address, or our job, or even our parish.
No; for each and every one of us, the answer’s much closer to home. Take a look at the woman in today’s Gospel. She had a daughter, every mother’s dream…but her dream had become a nightmare. Her daughter was demon possessed.
When she heard that Jesus had come to her neighborhood, she went to ask his help. “Lord, have mercy; my daughter is demon possessed.” And how did he respond?
First he gave her silence. But she wouldn’t quit.
Then he told her he was sent only to Israel. But still she begged.
Finally he said, “It isn’t right to give the children’s bread to the dogs.”
She took him at his word and said, “Yes, Lord—yet even dogs get the crumbs.”

To us, it may seem as if the Lord is being cruel. We get so caught up in the coldness of his words, that we miss the warmth of his heart. And that’s because, I’m convinced, our experience of him is so different from hers.
We want to have deeper faith, but we don’t realize that the troubles, and problems, and sins we face in ourselves and in those we love are all the means God uses to strengthen our faith. We’re like a man who goes to the gym, and sees all the equipment, and says, “How will I ever get fit?”
Think about that problem you’ve been struggling with. Perhaps you told it to the priest in confession. Perhaps you’ve kept it bottled up inside. Then late at night, it all comes rushing in…a sinful habit you struggle to break…a relationship all in tatters… the loneliness of someone who’s single but doesn’t want to be…or the heartbreak of those who want to be parents, but can’t quite seem to conceive.
What’s the problem? What is it you carry around inside? Beloved, that’s the thing God means to strengthen your faith. For the woman, it was her daughter. For you—well, only you can say.
We must learn to tie the Gospel together with the pains and struggles we face—not only the little ones, but also the big ones, the ones we’ve gotten used to, the ones we think nothing can help.
“But I’ve tried to do that,” you say, “and it didn’t make a difference.”
When I taught at seminary, I met a most remarkable man. Cliff Lloyd was a Welshman who served in World War II. After the war, he helped in training troops. When he emigrated to Canada, he earned a PhD and was founding president of a university. But then he got a very bad stroke. It affected his speech and his mobility. He retired.
One day he phoned me. He was 76 year old, and wanted to get a theological degree. At first I tried to discourage him. But he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. The last time I saw Cliff—and he got his degree, by the way—he told me, “I have something for you.” Then he gave me a paper with a drawing on it. A large bird has just swallowed a frog. But the frog’s two arms are coming out of the bird’s mouth and grabbing the bird by the throat. Below the picture, the caption reads, “Never give up.”
Take a look this morning at your deepest hurts and heartaches—the things you just can’t wrap your mind around. Don’t just learn to live with them. See them for what they are—the parts and places of your life where God is working, calling you To call on him…
To exercise your faith…
To learn to persevere, like this Canaanite woman…
To say, with Jacob of old, “I will not let you go until you bless me.”
Our greatest problems are really our greatest opportunities, to learn with this woman to pursue God: to ask, and seek, and knock, and not be turned away until we have touched his very heart.
For his heart towards us is good, just as it was towards her. “Oh woman,” he said, “your faith is great. Let it be done as you ask.” And her daughter was healed instantly. The Lord is not cruel; how could he be? He died for us. The Lord is not apathetic; he came from heaven to seek and save us. The Lord is not powerless; he who made everything from nothing can give you what you need. He who raises the dead can surely bring new life to your heart and home. He who forgives sinners can cleanse you, and make you white as wool.
So keep on asking…keep on seeking…keep on knocking. He promises that everyone who asks, receives; everyone who seeks, finds; and to everyone who keeps knocking, the door will be opened. Let us try his words and prove that he is faithful!

22 January 2012

Homily on Zacchaeus

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but curiosity brought Zacchaeus life. He was curious about Christ, and when he heard that the Lord was coming to his town, he did a very cat-like thing: he climbed a tree.
Why the tree? For one thing, he was short. But that wasn’t all. For him to get in the midst of a crowd could be dangerous. After all, he wasn’t the favorite man in town. He was a chief tax collector, and he was very good at his work.
He must have thought things through, too—like a cat planning to catch its prey. Jericho was a big, busy city with lots of streets and lanes. Which street would Christ come down? Which tree on that street would be best to climb?
So there he was, perched in his tree like a cat. But when the Lord passed by, the game of cat-and-mouse was reversed. Christ stopped in his tracks, looked up, and caught Zacchaeus where he was…he caught him with love.
He called Zacchaeus by name. “Zaccchaeus,” he said, “come down. I must stay today at your house!” When we hear it, we might miss the word “must.” “I must stay today at your house.” It wasn’t an option. It was part of his plan, all along.
Quickly Zacchaeus scooted down the tree. He didn’t worry what others thought. He didn’t think about what other plans he might have had for the day. He was completely captured by Christ’s love.
The crowd complained…they always do, don’t they? So Zacchaeus said to Christ, “Look, Lord! I give half my goods to the poor; and if I’ve taken anything from anyone by false accusation, I restore it four-fold!” Think what this meant: Zacchaeus was sold out for Christ. He was choosing to go from riches to rags. He was choosing poverty; or rather, he was making friends by means of mammon.
Today, in the midst of winter, the smell of Spring is in the air—the Lenten Spring, that is…the light of repentance. It’s only a few short weeks till we begin our journey to Christ’s cross and tomb—and then, the joy of Pascha.
For on that day when Christ called Zacchaeus down from the tree, he was very near the time when his journey took him to another tree—the cross. There he hung between heaven and earth as the noblest fruit. By being raised on that tree, he overcame the fall that resulted from another tree. He put death to death by death, and brought our life to light.
Today the Lord Jesus passes by again. He calls us by name. He bids us come down from the trees we’ve put ourselves in…to come to him for salvation—healing and wholeness.
So let us loose our grip on the things that hold us back: our pleasures and possessions, our sin and selfishness. Let us, like Zacchaeus, find our pleasure in giving away possessions. Let us who receive Christ’s very life in the Eucharist, learn to share that life. He who gave himself into death for us, will provide the things we need to live with him, and bring us at last to his heavenly Kingdom, of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

21 January 2012

A homily by Bishop Nikolai Velimirovich

About God's omniscience and providence

"Even all the hairs of your headare counted" (St. Matthew 10:30).

Brethren, "the hairs of your head are counted" much less the days of your life! Do not be afraid, therefore, that you will die before your appointed time nor yet hope that you will somehow be able to extend your life for one day against the will of Him Who counts and measures. Let this knowledge teach you meekness and fear of God.

"The hairs of your head are counted" much less your sufferings on earth! Do not be afraid, therefore, that you will suffer more beyond measure. Fear even less that your sufferings will remain forgotten and unaccounted for by Him Who sees all. This knowledge will teach you patience and confidence toward your Creator and Provider.

"The hairs of your head are counted" much less your friends and enemies on earth! Do not be afraid, therefore, that you will have either too many friends or too many enemies. Neither be afraid that your enemies will overcome you nor be assured that your friends will defend you. Concern yourself only that you have God for a friend and do not be afraid of anything. Behold, He is your only friend Who loves you without change.

O Good Lord, Wise Provider Who knows the number, measure and time of all, banish from us every fear, except the fear of You. That through fear of You, we may arrive to the pure and holy love toward You, our Creator and Benefactor.

To You be glory and thanks always. Amen.

01 January 2012

An insight from MacIntyre

"...the adherents of a tradition which is now in this state of fundamental and radical crisis [in context, a 'a state of epistemological crisis'] may at this point encounter in a new way the claims of some particular rival tradition, perhaps one with which they have for some time coexisted, perhaps one which they are now encountering for the first time. They now come or had already come to understand the beliefs and way of life of this other alien tradition, and to do so they have or have had to learn...the language of the alien tradition as a new and second first language.

When they have understood the beliefs of the alien tradition, they may find themselves compelled to recognize that within this other tradition it is possible to construct from the concepts and theories peculiar to it what they were unable to provide from their own conceptual and theoretical resources, a cogent and illuminating explanation--cogent and illuminating, that is, by their own standards--of why their own intellectual tradition had been unable to solve its problems or restore its coherence...

In this kind of situation the rationality of tradition requires an acknowledgement by those who have hitherto inhabited and given their allegiance to the tradition in crisis that the alien tradition is superior in rationality and in respect of its claims to truth to their own."


Alasdair MacIntyre, "Whose Justice? Which Rationality?" pp. 364f

MacIntyre succinctly captures my journey from Lutheranism to the Orthodox Church.

From a hot summer day in 1984 when layfolk participated in an ordination, to the 2004 convention of the LCMS when, for the first time, the non-ecclesial nature of the Synod was clearly visible to me...from the Good Friday afternoon in 1987 to the afternoon of July 23, 2005 when I was chrismated--I gradually came to see that things in Lutheranism which initially annoyed were, rather, signs of systemic brokenness and decay; and that things in the Church which initially struck me as fragments of truth and beauty were, in fact, part of a consistent and complete whole which could no longer be denied.

All this I write, not to offend Lutheran friends, but to serve as a monument for my own memory.

17 December 2011

You never know what you'll find...

...when you look through computer files. In a search for something else, I came across a letter I penned to the Lutheran Witness in 2001, after an article there claimed that the harrowing of hell was a "false doctrine."

Here's the letter:

Thank you for the recent article and Bible study on Christ’s descent into hell. It’s a topic full of comfort and worth considering. In two places, however, the doctrine that Christ’s descent into hell was also for the purpose of freeing Old Testament believers was labeled as a “false teaching.” We wish to dispute that claim.
First, neither Scripture nor our Confessions nor Dr. Luther explicitly or implictly reject this historic Christian teaching. The passages cited in the Bible study do not show its falsity either. Acts 2:21 says that those who call on the Lord’s name will be saved; no one is disputing that fact. Hebrews 11:13-16 speaks of the Old Testament saints having died in faith—without receiving the promises! Indeed, Hebrews 11:39-40 says that they, “having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised, because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us they should not be made perfect.” Furthermore, in his Two Natures in Christ, the great Lutheran theologian Martin Chemnitz refers twice to this teaching without condemning it.
Second, there are several passages of Scripture which suggest that such a freeing was a part of Jesus’ descent into hell. For example, Matthew mentions that at Jesus’ death, many bodies of the saints were raised, and that after His resurrection they entered the holy city. And what of Paul’s saying that in Jesus’ ascension, “he led captive a host of captives”—in the same context that he speaks of Jesus’ having “descended into the lower parts of the earth”? Christ’s descent into hell is reason for all believers to rejoice. The strong man has been bound, his power broken, and his possessions plundered.
As heirs of those who took pains to say that “among us nothing in doctrine or ceremonies has been accepted that would contradict either Holy Scripture or the universal Christian church” (Augsburg Confession, conclusion), we must reject any attempt to label this historic Christian doctrine as “false teaching.”

What's interesting about the letter is something I won't post--the names of the other ten LC-MS clergy at the time who co-signed it with me. The then-editor of the Witness, David Mahsman, took the unusual step of having a letter to the editor sent to doctrinal review. The letter failed. Naturally.

I'm posting it now because it marks a stage in my journey to the Church.

29 November 2011

The problem...

...with Protestantism is not so much in the predicates--its words or works--as it is in the subject doing the predicates. To use an analogy: speaking the words or doing the works of a husband does not make one a husband. One must be husband first, truly to say husbandly words or do husbandly things.

If a Protestant were able to offer quotations from hundreds of their writers on every conceivable topic, and if (impossible as it is) all of them were found to be completely Orthodox...if Protestants were able even to demonstrate Orthodox worship (whether of the Western or Eastern rite, it matters not)...none of those things would fix the root problem.

What's lacking is ecclesiality.

Whatever it is--a school of thought, a religious assembly of like-minded people--it isn't Church.

That is the tragedy of Protestantism.

20 November 2011

Homily on the Entrance of the Theotokos

Today we mark the feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple, to the Holy of Holies. There are some who would say that the Scriptures are silent about this Feast; but that is because they read the Scriptures in the way of the Sadducees, who read the book of Exodus again and again and never saw, in the story of the burning bush, a proof of the resurrection.
The Theotokos is the ark of God, foreshadowed by the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant. Just as the Ark contained the tables of the Law of God, so she held within her womb the God who gave the Law. Just as the Ark was most holy, so also she is most holy.
In last evening’s Vespers service we heard three Old Testament readings. The first marked the setting up of the tabernacle, the tent of meeting. When Moses put the ark of the covenant into the tabernacle, the Lord’s glory filled the place and Moses himself could not enter. The second reading marked the completion of Solomon’s temple. We read, “And the priests brought in the ark of the covenant of the Lord unto his place…and when the priests had come out of the holy place, the cloud filled the house, and the priests were not able to minister.” The final reading is Ezekiel’s prophecy of the Theotokos as the new and final Temple. But in Ezekiel, no ark is mentioned! Why? Because in the New Covenant, the Theotokos is both the Temple and the ark of God. She contains God within her womb.
What more natural place for the Ark of the New Covenant, then, but the Holy of Holies of the Old Covenant’s Temple? There, we are taught, the Mother of Light was led by the lights of the temple virgins up the steps of the Temple. She entered the Most Holy Place, as was fitting; and there she lived until the time she was given to Joseph.
And so in this feast, we mark the beginning of the end of the Old Covenant, and the beginning of the beginning of the New Covenant. The Old Testament types find their fulfillment in her: The Tabernacle of the Word enters the tabernacle; the Ark of the Word enters the most holy place. The Book of Life, who would receive the imprint of the living Word, comes to the place where the tables of the Law had been kept. And so we sing:
Today the Virgin is the foreshadowing of the pleasure of God,
and the beginning of the preaching of the salvation of mankind.
Thou hast appeared in the Temple of God openly and hast gone before,
preaching Christ to all.
Let us shout with one thrilling voice, saying:
Rejoice, O thou who art the fulfillment of the Creator’s dispensation.
What does this mean for us, then, beloved? For you young people, who ask yourselves, “Why am I here? What is the purpose of my life?”—follow the Theotokos and learn to seek your fulfillment, not in the distractions and deceitfulness of the world, but in the holy place of God. You will not find God’s will for you in amusement and distraction, but by sitting quietly in his holy place. “Blessed are those who hear the Word of God and keep it,” just as did Mary.
And for us who are older, let us beware of wandering too far from the Temple. Let us occupy our minds and hearts with the Word of God and with prayer. Let us prepare a place within ourselves, that He whose first coming we remember in this season may find a fitting home when he returns in the glory of his Father with all the holy angels. Amen.