That some honor Christ as the Way,
but object to honoring his Mother as the One who shows the Way...
how easily they get lost.
That some honor Christ as the Truth,
but object to the Church as Pillar and Ground of the Truth...
how easily they slip into falsehood.
That some honor Christ as the Life,
but object to the prayers and intercessions of the saints, as those alive in Christ...
how easily they insert the world's death into their worship.
23 September 2008
22 September 2008
Walking on water--more thoughts, on my 52nd birthday
Our parish is looking at buying land for a permanent temple. God has blessed us with a wonderful building; but we sit on less than an acre and that's not enough room to do the things we need to do (e.g. have a cemetery).
Land costs money. Some can be tempted to shrink from the challenge--especially in this time of financial crisis. But I keep reminding the people, "God made the land. If he wants us to have it, he will provide the green paper to buy it. Just seek his will." (I'm not really talking to them. I'm talking to myself.)
Our generation has feared poverty; we have built all sorts of levees to protect ourselves from it. But the sea of our passions and greed has overtopped the levees, and only God knows whether we are about to face a Katrina-like deluge of trouble.
It takes no faith to walk on water when it's turned to ice.
That is why I ask your prayers, all you (?both of you) who read these scribblings. I am Orthodox in name. I wish to be Orthodox in truth--to abandon my thoughts, my will, my dreams, and follow after Jesus Christ. Please, in God's name, pray for my conversion.
Land costs money. Some can be tempted to shrink from the challenge--especially in this time of financial crisis. But I keep reminding the people, "God made the land. If he wants us to have it, he will provide the green paper to buy it. Just seek his will." (I'm not really talking to them. I'm talking to myself.)
Our generation has feared poverty; we have built all sorts of levees to protect ourselves from it. But the sea of our passions and greed has overtopped the levees, and only God knows whether we are about to face a Katrina-like deluge of trouble.
Those who contemplate coming to the Church must face squarely the issue of how we value money and security--and anything else--over against truth and the will of God. Last evening the wife of another priest told me of a family that was contemplating the Church. She said they told her they were subjected to horrific demonic attack. They pondered pulling away, returning to the place they were coming from. But they kept praying, "Lord, have mercy. Help us." And it was made clear to them, "Don't worry; you are not alone."
A dear bishop once told some Lutherans, "You must not impoverish your family to become Orthodox." It is true that the Orthodox Church has, for those who come, much in the way of good will, but little in the way of resources. But I would make bold to amend that bishop's words.
When it is not clear to a man that the Orthodox Church is the truth, he is not yet ready to come. He would be foolish to put family at risk in such a case.
But when it is clear, when the questions have been answered to such a degree that his heart says, "Yes, this is the Church"--then truth tips the scales. He may wait for a time, to try to help spouse and children come to the same conclusion. But once it is clear, he must obey the truth. "Even though knowledge is true, it is still not firmly established if unaccompanied by works. For everything is established by being put into practice." (St. Mark the Ascetic) This is the true theology of the cross--not the theoretical, but the practical denying of oneself and taking up suffering freely and willingly for Christ's sake. Surrender to Truth is made without terms and conditions. "I will follow you, but first..." someone said, and Truth replied, "Let the dead bury their dead..."
It takes no faith to walk on water when it's turned to ice.
That is why I ask your prayers, all you (?both of you) who read these scribblings. I am Orthodox in name. I wish to be Orthodox in truth--to abandon my thoughts, my will, my dreams, and follow after Jesus Christ. Please, in God's name, pray for my conversion.
Curmudgeonly musings on friendship
One of my sons once came back from a trip and announced to me, "I made a lot of new friends on this trip." "No, you didn't," I responded. When he objected, I explained.
Friendship requires that you share a common life. The joys and sorrows, the trials and triumphs of friends are one and the same. Friends share a common mind: the Lord told his disciples, "I do not call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you." A friend gives his life for his friends, "Greater love hath no man than this--that he lay down his life for his friends."
Friendships are revealed in the tough times of life. No roof leaks on a sunny day; it takes a downpour to reveal which ones truly protect and which ones only seem to.
We become like the people we befriend. It's inevitable that since persons exist in relations, those who share a common mind, a common life, and the same trials will resemble each other more and more--even when time and space separates them. I saw that clearly when I went to one of my father's Sixth Armored Division reunions. Their bodies were old and bent, but their eyes shone with pride and with tears as they remembered their common bond.
The word "friend" still means something to me--something dear and precious.
That is why I cannot use it to describe relationships with former companions who took the other fork in the road when the time of crisis came. It is not disdain, but love of truth to recognize that without a common life there is no true friendship. Affection? Yes. Sadness? Of course. But friendship? That cannot be the case, where there is no common mind. "Let us love one another, that with one mind we may confess..."
That, too, is why I am going to re-examine my "Facebook" friendships. Facebook tells me that I have 93 friends.
> Some of them are former students;
> Some of them are my family members;
> Some of them are friends of my family members;
> Some of them are truly friends--people with whom we've shared life for more than 20 years.
> And some are newfound, priests and people with whom I have the prospect of sharing one life, one mind.
But as time goes on, the bond with some former students grows dimmer. I need to release them, because as important as they are, I cannot attend to the changes in the lives of those I truly continue to live with.
And now some people I've never met, people with whom I have no common life or even realistic chance of a common life, want to befriend me on "Facebook." I bear them no ill will. I have simply decided not to add them as friends, because I want to focus, in the time I have remaining, on those with whom I have some real connection.
The relation between "acquaintance" and "friend" is like the relation between "house" and "home." As Edgar Guest penned, "It takes a heap o' livin, to make a house a home."
Friendship requires that you share a common life. The joys and sorrows, the trials and triumphs of friends are one and the same. Friends share a common mind: the Lord told his disciples, "I do not call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you." A friend gives his life for his friends, "Greater love hath no man than this--that he lay down his life for his friends."
Friendships are revealed in the tough times of life. No roof leaks on a sunny day; it takes a downpour to reveal which ones truly protect and which ones only seem to.
We become like the people we befriend. It's inevitable that since persons exist in relations, those who share a common mind, a common life, and the same trials will resemble each other more and more--even when time and space separates them. I saw that clearly when I went to one of my father's Sixth Armored Division reunions. Their bodies were old and bent, but their eyes shone with pride and with tears as they remembered their common bond.
The word "friend" still means something to me--something dear and precious.
That is why I cannot use it to describe relationships with former companions who took the other fork in the road when the time of crisis came. It is not disdain, but love of truth to recognize that without a common life there is no true friendship. Affection? Yes. Sadness? Of course. But friendship? That cannot be the case, where there is no common mind. "Let us love one another, that with one mind we may confess..."
That, too, is why I am going to re-examine my "Facebook" friendships. Facebook tells me that I have 93 friends.
> Some of them are former students;
> Some of them are my family members;
> Some of them are friends of my family members;
> Some of them are truly friends--people with whom we've shared life for more than 20 years.
> And some are newfound, priests and people with whom I have the prospect of sharing one life, one mind.
But as time goes on, the bond with some former students grows dimmer. I need to release them, because as important as they are, I cannot attend to the changes in the lives of those I truly continue to live with.
And now some people I've never met, people with whom I have no common life or even realistic chance of a common life, want to befriend me on "Facebook." I bear them no ill will. I have simply decided not to add them as friends, because I want to focus, in the time I have remaining, on those with whom I have some real connection.
The relation between "acquaintance" and "friend" is like the relation between "house" and "home." As Edgar Guest penned, "It takes a heap o' livin, to make a house a home."
15 September 2008
Prayer to the Theotokos II: Post-communion prayer, part 4
The prayer continues:
"O thou who gavest birth to the True Light, do thou enlighten the spiritual eyes of my heart; thou who gavest birth to the Source of Immortality, revive me who am dead in sin; thou who art the lovingly-compassionate Mother of the merciful God, have mercy on me and grant me compunction and contrition in my heart, and humility in my thoughts, and the recall of my thoughts from captivity."
These petitions paint, in words, what is written in colors on icons: our beliefs concerning Mary are directly tied to our beliefs concerning her Son. She enlightens, because she gave birth to the Light; she revives, because she gave birth to enfleshed Life. Because she continues to be the mother of the Merciful Lord, she has mercy on us who are pilgrims, directing us always to Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.
One of the last Lutheran theologians to believe in her perpetual virginity, Francis Pieper, said that if a man's Christology were in all other respects correct, he need not affirm her perpetual virginity. Here we see the last glowing embers of a fire of recognition: one last time, before bibliolatry swallowed Christology, an awareness that a deficient view of the Theotokos almost always implies a deficient Christology.
Orthodox are sometimes accused of having an overinflated view of Mary; in fact, Protestants have a deficient Christology and soteriology. Their god is too small.
"And vouchsafe me until my last breath to receive without condemnation the sanctification of the most pure Mysteries for the healing of soul and body; and grant me tears of repentance and confession, that I may hymn and glorify thee all the days of my life, for blessed and most glorified art thou unto the ages. Amen."
How can we ask the Theotokos to vouchsafe us to receive the Mysteries rightly? Isn't that God's work? Yes, of course it is. But how does he accomplish his work? In no other way than through the prayers of his people, and chiefly through the prayers of his Mother. As Nicholas Cabasilas pointed out, against western calumnies of the eastern liturgy, prayer itself a confession of our own weakness and inability. When we ask the prayers of others on our behalf, it confesses that weakness even more strikingly. Apart from the prayers of others, I cannot be saved (not because God is not gracious, but because salvation is communion, with God the Holy Trinity and with all the members of the Body of Christ). This is true, in a preeminent way, of the prayers of the one God glorified to bear his Son in flesh, and whom all generations call blessed.
"O thou who gavest birth to the True Light, do thou enlighten the spiritual eyes of my heart; thou who gavest birth to the Source of Immortality, revive me who am dead in sin; thou who art the lovingly-compassionate Mother of the merciful God, have mercy on me and grant me compunction and contrition in my heart, and humility in my thoughts, and the recall of my thoughts from captivity."
These petitions paint, in words, what is written in colors on icons: our beliefs concerning Mary are directly tied to our beliefs concerning her Son. She enlightens, because she gave birth to the Light; she revives, because she gave birth to enfleshed Life. Because she continues to be the mother of the Merciful Lord, she has mercy on us who are pilgrims, directing us always to Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.
One of the last Lutheran theologians to believe in her perpetual virginity, Francis Pieper, said that if a man's Christology were in all other respects correct, he need not affirm her perpetual virginity. Here we see the last glowing embers of a fire of recognition: one last time, before bibliolatry swallowed Christology, an awareness that a deficient view of the Theotokos almost always implies a deficient Christology.
Orthodox are sometimes accused of having an overinflated view of Mary; in fact, Protestants have a deficient Christology and soteriology. Their god is too small.
"And vouchsafe me until my last breath to receive without condemnation the sanctification of the most pure Mysteries for the healing of soul and body; and grant me tears of repentance and confession, that I may hymn and glorify thee all the days of my life, for blessed and most glorified art thou unto the ages. Amen."
How can we ask the Theotokos to vouchsafe us to receive the Mysteries rightly? Isn't that God's work? Yes, of course it is. But how does he accomplish his work? In no other way than through the prayers of his people, and chiefly through the prayers of his Mother. As Nicholas Cabasilas pointed out, against western calumnies of the eastern liturgy, prayer itself a confession of our own weakness and inability. When we ask the prayers of others on our behalf, it confesses that weakness even more strikingly. Apart from the prayers of others, I cannot be saved (not because God is not gracious, but because salvation is communion, with God the Holy Trinity and with all the members of the Body of Christ). This is true, in a preeminent way, of the prayers of the one God glorified to bear his Son in flesh, and whom all generations call blessed.
08 September 2008
Prayer to the Theotokos II: Post-communion prayer, part 3
"I thank thee that thou hast vouchsafed me, who am unworthy, to be a partaker of the most pure Body and precious Blood of thy Son."
The Greek original says, "Eucharisto soi, hoti exiosas me ton anaxion koinonon genesthai"--"I thank you, that you have accounted me (the unworthy) worthy to become sharer..."
There are two issues here:
1) Can the saints share in works that are God's works?
The answer, as we have seen elsewhere, is "yes." To cite but two examples: The handkerchiefs and shadows of the apostles healed people, and Paul told Titus that he (Titus) would save people by paying attention to himself and to his teaching.
Now making someone worthy of communing is God's work. But he carries out his works in and through means, and when he does so, we can use those same verbs in connection with those means.
2) How are we made worthy to partake of the Sacrament?
Certainly we are made worthy by faith. But that faith does not exclude the prayers of others. Those prayers play a part in our worthy partaking--hence the priest prays for himself and for the other communicants before they receive the sacrament: "To you, Master, Lover of mankind, we entrust our whole life and our hope, and we entreat, pray and implore you: count us worthy to partake of your heavenly and awesome mysteries at this sacred and spiritual table..." If the priest's prayer aids in the people's worthy partaking, how much more do the prayers of the Theotokos aid such partaking!
So in this particular petition, we are thanking the Mother of God that through her prayers for us, she participates in the divine work of making us worthy to receive Christ's body and blood.
The Greek original says, "Eucharisto soi, hoti exiosas me ton anaxion koinonon genesthai"--"I thank you, that you have accounted me (the unworthy) worthy to become sharer..."
There are two issues here:
1) Can the saints share in works that are God's works?
The answer, as we have seen elsewhere, is "yes." To cite but two examples: The handkerchiefs and shadows of the apostles healed people, and Paul told Titus that he (Titus) would save people by paying attention to himself and to his teaching.
Now making someone worthy of communing is God's work. But he carries out his works in and through means, and when he does so, we can use those same verbs in connection with those means.
2) How are we made worthy to partake of the Sacrament?
Certainly we are made worthy by faith. But that faith does not exclude the prayers of others. Those prayers play a part in our worthy partaking--hence the priest prays for himself and for the other communicants before they receive the sacrament: "To you, Master, Lover of mankind, we entrust our whole life and our hope, and we entreat, pray and implore you: count us worthy to partake of your heavenly and awesome mysteries at this sacred and spiritual table..." If the priest's prayer aids in the people's worthy partaking, how much more do the prayers of the Theotokos aid such partaking!
So in this particular petition, we are thanking the Mother of God that through her prayers for us, she participates in the divine work of making us worthy to receive Christ's body and blood.
Prayer to the Theotokos II: Post-communion prayer, part 2
O most holy Lady, Theotokos, light of my darkened soul, my hope, protection, refuge, consolation, my joy; I thank thee that thou hast vouchsafed me, who am unworthy, to be a partaker of the most pure Body and precious Blood of thy Son. O thou who gavest birth to the True Light, do thou enlighten the spiritual eyes of my heart; thou who gavest birth to the Source of Immortality, revive me who am dead in sin; thou who art the lovingly-compassionate Mother of the merciful God, have mercy on me and grant me compunction and contrition in my heart, and humility in my thoughts, and the recall of my thoughts from captivity. And vouchsafe me until my last breath to receive without condemnation the sanctification of the most pure Mysteries for the healing of soul and body; and grant me tears of repentance and confession, that I may hymn and glorify thee all the days of my life, for blessed and most glorified art thou unto the ages. Amen."
The structure of this prayer, roughly speaking is as follows:
I. Introductory address
II. Petition of thanksgiving
III. Petitions of intercession
IV. Conclusion
In the introductory address, the Theotokos is called:
> most holy Lady, Theotokos--we've addressed this in a previous post.
> light of my darkened soul--My soul is darkened, because I seek my own good and not the will of God. But she shows me a different way, a way that begins with "let it be to me according to thy will," and finds its focus in "whatever he tells you, do it." If Christ calls all Christians the light of the world, how can we object to his Mother being called the light of our darkened soul?
> my hope-- St. Paul calls the Thessalonians his hope, glory and joy:
1 Thessalonians 2:19-20 19 For who is our hope or joy or crown of exultation? Is it not even you, in the presence of our Lord Jesus at His coming? 20 For you are our glory and joy.
Why then would it be wrong to call the Theotokos our hope or our joy?
> protection, refuge--as noted in an earlier post, the city of Constantinople experienced protection and refuge from the Theotokos, during the invasions of Arab and Slavic peoples in the second half of the first millenium. That is the historical background of the song, "To thee the Champion Leader."
>consolation-- how can she help but console us, when she is the mother of the Consolation of Israel?
>my joy--mentioned above, in connection with 1 Thessalonians 2.
So much for the address. (I apologize for the sketchiness and undeveloped nature of these posts. The academic year has begun, and I have very limited time to flesh out my thoughts. But anyone of good will can easily think through the issues himself, I think.)
The structure of this prayer, roughly speaking is as follows:
I. Introductory address
II. Petition of thanksgiving
III. Petitions of intercession
IV. Conclusion
In the introductory address, the Theotokos is called:
> most holy Lady, Theotokos--we've addressed this in a previous post.
> light of my darkened soul--My soul is darkened, because I seek my own good and not the will of God. But she shows me a different way, a way that begins with "let it be to me according to thy will," and finds its focus in "whatever he tells you, do it." If Christ calls all Christians the light of the world, how can we object to his Mother being called the light of our darkened soul?
> my hope-- St. Paul calls the Thessalonians his hope, glory and joy:
1 Thessalonians 2:19-20 19 For who is our hope or joy or crown of exultation? Is it not even you, in the presence of our Lord Jesus at His coming? 20 For you are our glory and joy.
Why then would it be wrong to call the Theotokos our hope or our joy?
> protection, refuge--as noted in an earlier post, the city of Constantinople experienced protection and refuge from the Theotokos, during the invasions of Arab and Slavic peoples in the second half of the first millenium. That is the historical background of the song, "To thee the Champion Leader."
>consolation-- how can she help but console us, when she is the mother of the Consolation of Israel?
>my joy--mentioned above, in connection with 1 Thessalonians 2.
So much for the address. (I apologize for the sketchiness and undeveloped nature of these posts. The academic year has begun, and I have very limited time to flesh out my thoughts. But anyone of good will can easily think through the issues himself, I think.)
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