Reflections on My Reflections on St Bernard's Reflections

I thought I might try to clarify or further reflect on a few things I wrote yesterday. While we can always expect to receive edifying insights from the writings of the saints, we (thankfully) don’t have to expect warmed-over hackneyed piety. In his sermon I quoted yesterday, St Bernard makes the unvarnished statement that the rest of us recognize as true but are afraid to come right out and say: “We have the impression that we come out of prayer like we entered into it; no one answers us with even one word, gives us anything at all; we have the impression that we have labored in vain.” But of course he doesn’t just leave us hanging there with our disappointed hopes. He offers a profound insight.

Now, the Fathers and Doctors of the Church are criticized (sometimes justly) for interpreting issues or answering questions with their (sometimes ingenious) concatenations of wholly unrelated biblical passages. But I like St Bernard’s answer here: “What does the Lord say in the gospel? ‘Stop judging by appearances and make a just judgment’ (Jn 7 :24). What is a just judgment other than a judgment of faith? For ‘the just man shall live by faith’ (Gal 3:11). So follow the judgment of faith rather than your experience, for faith does not deceive, whereas experience can lead into error.” A just judgment of the issue of apparently unanswered prayer is a judgment of faith, for if you are just you live by faith. If you live by faith, that means you assess and interpret the events and experiences of your life according to the content and dynamics of Christian faith, and not merely by what you see, hear, feel, etc. So if you live by faith, you trust that God hears your prayer and will answer in the way that is best for your spiritual progress and salvation. This “judgment of faith” is more reliable than your subjective experience, says St Bernard, and we ought to have discovered by now that indeed “faith does not deceive, whereas experience can lead into error.” For we don’t often know how to interpret our own experience, bound up as it often is with emotional excess, perceptual defect, and the coloration of our own desires and expectations.

This “judgment of faith” can apply to the other issues I brought up yesterday, which are matters of experience—not experiencing the joy, the peace, the inner transformation and renewal that the Gospel promises. Therefore experience, or the lack thereof, cannot be the ultimate measure of our life in Christ, but rather, living by faith must be the bottom line. That’s why the last of the 10 suggestions is probably the most important: Persevere Anyway (I think I’m going to make that my motto). For if the just one is to live by faith, such a one must learn how to persevere through the vicissitudes of various experiences and through the uncharted waters of “unknowing.” And we may have to simply humble ourselves in the awareness that we still have a long way to go before we are even capable of immersion in the mysteries of God. The Elder Macarius of Optina said: “Do not look for any remarkable gift of prayer in your heart. You are not worthy of it. Rather, let the empty, cold dryness of your prayer be food for your humility…” You won’t find that passage quoted in any modern spiritual self-help book!

Finally, as to what I quoted from the Pope. His gentle teaching about Christ adapting Himself to our weakness should not be interpreted as Christ condoning or tolerating our sin, permitting us to remain in it and promising forgiveness in the end. No, Christ hates sin and does not tolerate any sort of evil at all. But He adapts Himself to our weakness by accepting our inadequate (though sincere) response to his love and his call to holiness. He meets us at our low level, but this is for the sake of raising us up to his. He accepts our meager offerings—if that’s all we’re able to offer at this moment—while He tries to teach us the meaning of a complete and unreserved self-gift. He doesn’t hold us to a standard impossible for us to meet—while at the same time giving us the grace to continually meet higher standards than before. He will not stop at anything short of our perfection, for nothing defiled can enter the Kingdom of Heaven, as the Good Book says.

So continue to pray, continue to struggle, continue to seek the face of Him who calls you—in short, continue to live by faith. Make the judgment of faith upon the events of your life, and not merely that of experience. Then someday you’ll have the opportunity to talk things over with St Bernard in that place where you don’t even need faith anymore—only love.

But I DON'T...

Have you ever had the following kind of experience? Let’s say you read from Ezekiel 36 and hear the Lord say: “you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses… A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you…” Then you pause and reflect for a moment and exclaim: “But I’m not clean from uncleanness, I don’t have a new heart, I don’t have a new spirit! I’m exactly as I always was, despite my urgent and sincere prayers!” Or what if you read from John 14 and hear Jesus say: “he who believes in me will do the works that I do, and greater works than these he will do… Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it…” After a bit more reflection you shout: “But I don’t do the works He did, let alone greater ones! And I don’t receive whatever I ask in his name!” Or suppose you just read here and there throughout the Scriptures and finally begin to scream: “But I don’t have peace with God, I’m not filled with all the fullness of God, I’m not strong, I have not overcome the evil one, I’m not the salt of the earth, I’m not the light of the world, the truth has not set me free, I don’t ‘rejoice with unutterable and exalted joy,’ I don’t have wisdom—I’m constantly failing, messing things up, and I’m full of doubt and confusion despite my best efforts and prayers!”

Well, don’t expect me to solve your problems—I’ve got enough of my own! But there are a few things to look at here. Most of the promises in Scripture are conditional in some way. You’ll notice that most are also in the future tense, so perhaps their time simply has not yet come. Some things require faith, some require love as conditions for the manifestation of what God has promised. We are perhaps coming up short in these areas, and though God would like to give us what He promised, He sees we haven’t yet the capacity to receive or even to recognize his gifts. It could be that we haven’t matured to the level at which we could bear fruit from what we ask for, or that we are simply asking for the wrong things, or the right things at the wrong time, or the right things for the wrong reasons. God has to keep track of all these variables, and we ought to give Him credit for being rather good at it, so we’re going to have to do one or more of the following: 1) stop bellyaching; 2) repent; 3) grow up; 4) be patient; 5) redouble our efforts; 6) trust; 7) trust some more; 8) be content with slow progress; 9) get help; 10) persevere anyway.

I just read something from St Bernard of Clairvaux that will perhaps be of some assistance in the matter: “Every time I speak about prayer, it seems to me that I hear in your heart certain human reflections that I have often heard, even in my own heart. Since we never stop praying, how come we so rarely seem to experience the fruit of prayer? We have the impression that we come out of prayer like we entered into it; no one answers us with even one word, gives us anything at all; we have the impression that we have labored in vain. But what does the Lord say in the gospel? ‘Stop judging by appearances and make a just judgment’ (Jn 7 :24). What is a just judgment other than a judgment of faith? For ‘the just man shall live by faith’ (Gal 3:11). So follow the judgment of faith rather than your experience, for faith does not deceive, whereas experience can lead into error.

“And what is the truth of faith other than that the Son of God himself promised: ‘If you are ready to believe that you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer, it shall be done for you’ (Mk 11:24). Thus, may no one among you, Brothers, consider prayer to be a small thing. For I assure you, the one to whom it is addressed does not consider it a small thing; even before it has left our mouth, he has had it written down in his book. Without the slightest doubt, we can be sure that God will either give us what we are asking him or he will give us something that he knows to be better. For ‘we do not know how to pray as we ought’ (Rom 8:26), but God has compassion on our ignorance and he receives our prayer with kindness… So ‘take delight in the Lord, and he will grant you your heart’s requests’”(Ps 37:4). [Sermons for Lent, no. 5, 5]

Perhaps we should just accept that “we do not know how to pray as we ought,” and then put our trust in the providence of God, who knows how to grant what He ought, and who knows what is best for our spiritual growth and salvation. So let us take heart. At a recent audience in Rome, the Pope assured us that Jesus “adapts Himself to our weakness,” knowing that we aren’t what we should be, that we don’t know how to pray as we ought, and that we haven’t yet born much fruit from his grace. Benedict XVI said: "From the ingenuous enthusiasm of the initial adherence, passing through the painful experience of denial and the tears of conversion, Peter came to entrust himself to Jesus, who adapted Himself to his poor capacity to love. And He also shows us the way, despite all our weakness. We know that Jesus adapts Himself to our weakness. We follow Him, with our poor capacity to love, and we know that Jesus is good and he accepts us."

Courage, then. Look not at your defeats but at Christ’s victory, not at your inner chaos, but at Him who makes all things new. If you pray but one prayer earnestly and from the heart—“Thy will be done!”—you can be sure it will be answered.

Home at Last

We bring our reflections on the Book of Revelation to a close today. The end of the Book is but the beginning of eternal life. It is the end of all persecutions and sufferings, of all dragons and beasts, of all evil and death. It is the beginning of the joyous life of the redeemed faithful, of the saints and martyrs who persevered through trials and pain and temptation, who have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb and have emerged victorious and glorious forever, amen!

In the final apocalyptic battle, the unholy trinity of dragon, beast, and false prophet are hurled into the lake of fire, to be “tormented day and night forever and ever” (20:10). Then comes the last judgment of all mankind. Note this: it is said repeatedly here that the dead are judged “by what they had done.” It is clear then that “faith alone” is insufficient for salvation. If you don’t do the will of God and put his word into practice, you must join the unholy trinity in their eternal fiery torment.

So, once the demons and all evildoers are disposed of, Heaven is opened to the chosen and faithful ones of God. St John saw the new Jerusalem coming down from Heaven, radiant with the glory of God. Next comes one of my favorite Scripture passages: “And I heard a great voice from the throne, saying: ‘Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself with be with them. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who sat upon the throne said: ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ And he said to me: ‘It is done!’”(21:3-6). One day we will hear those words; one day all suffering and tears will be a distant memory; one day all things will be made new; one day we will dwell uninterruptedly with God and we will know only love and joy. I think it will take me the better part of eternity to let out one enormous sigh of relief, should I be fortunate enough to be found among the elect on that day.

For now, we have to make sure we are not among the polluted, faithless cowards, or the murderous, fornicating, lying idolaters (21:8), who never make it to the place of light and peace. We have to take up our crosses and follow the Lamb wherever He goes, even into the jaws of suffering and death, for the glorious heavenly Jerusalem awaits us on the other side.

The conclusion of the Book is a description of the heavenly City, all gold and jewels, all light and beauty, the river of life, the tree of life, the glory of God and of the Lamb. Nothing is worth missing out on this for all eternity. It doesn’t matter if you don’t envision Heaven as gold and jewels or trees and rivers. You don’t have to. This is a symbolic vision. When you get there you will swear the whole thing was designed just for you, for it will be so marvelous that it won’t even occur to you that there might be even one detail that could be improved. God has prepared so much for those who love Him, who are willing to endure to the end for his sake, for the sake of truth and righteousness and all that is holy and good. The righteous will indeed suffer, and holy things will be trampled by the ungodly, but there is a day of reckoning on the way, and there is a New Jerusalem waiting to be revealed to those who stand with the Lord, come what may. This Book ought to encourage us to turn our faces heavenward and await with joyful hope the Alpha and the Omega, who will make all things new.

“The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come’… Come, Lord Jesus!” (22:17, 20).

Fallen!

The dragon and the beasts have their day, but eventually it comes to an end, and all who have aligned themselves with them will share their lot. Chapter 18 of Revelation is a long dirge over fall of Babylon (pagan Rome), which grew rich through greed and lust, and which lies in burning ruins in this apocalyptic scenario. (I suppose all scenarios in the book called Apocalypse are by definition apocalyptic.)

“Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! It has become a dwelling place of demons…for all nations have drunk the wine of her impure passion, and the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her, and the merchants of the earth have grown rich with the wealth of her wantonness… her sins are heaped high as heaven, and God has remembered her iniquities… she glorified herself and played the wanton…so shall her plagues come in a single day, pestilence and mourning and famine, and she shall be burned with fire; for mighty is the Lord God who judges her.”

There’s a repeating refrain here: “Alas, alas, great city… in one hour has your judgment come… Alas, alas, great city… in one hour all your wealth has been laid waste.” This ought to be for us both consolation and warning. The consolation is that evil will not triumph forever, that the righteous and the poor will not be persecuted and crushed forever, that God’s justice and judgment will ultimately prevail. And the execution of his justice will be swift and complete: “in one hour has your judgment come.” The warning applies to us to the extent we have allied ourselves with Babylon, with the powers of darkness, ill-gotten wealth, or any sort of inordinate pleasure or power, especially when it is enjoyed at the expense of others. Everything will go: “in one hour all your wealth has been laid waste.” Whatever we try to cling to, hoard, or use for self-aggrandizement in any form will be wrested from our grasp and destroyed by the judgment of God.

All this mourning and lamentation of wicked world leaders and greedy mega-corporations is contrasted with the rejoicing of the saints and martyrs and all those who were faithful to the Gospel and did not follow the ways (“receive the mark”) of the beast, but who stood with Christ at great personal cost and suffering. As the citadel of evil burns, we hear: “Rejoice over her, O heaven, O saints and apostles and prophets, for God has given judgment for you against her!” Even though there is still a final battle to be waged on earth to definitively dunk the dragon in the lake of fire, heaven is already celebrating: “Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for his judgments are true and just; he has judged the great harlot who corrupted the earth with her fornication… Alleluia! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory…”

This is meant to encourage the beleaguered faithful as they wonder if justice will ever come, if truth and goodness will ever prevail. Well, God answers with a resounding Yes! It is not given us to know the seasons and times of that which the Father has fixed by his own authority, but He gives us glimpses of the ultimate victory and asks us to trust, with patient endurance and hope. The Lord will always have the last word, and those who stick with Him to the end will have the last laugh, as it were, or rather the everlasting joy. For mighty is the Lord God who brings all before his awesome tribunal.

Little Hannah, one of the anawim, the humble faithful ones of the Lord, burst out in prophetic song when the Lord at last came to her aid: “Speak boastfully no longer, nor let arrogance issue from your mouths. For the Lord is an all-knowing God, a God who judges deeds. The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. The well-fed hire themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry hunger no more… The Lord will guard the footsteps of his saints, but the wicked shall perish in the darkness, for not by might shall a man prevail. The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; He will thunder against them from heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth…” (1Samuel 2:3-10).

Even if Babylon has not yet fallen; even if the dragon is still at large; even if the kings and the merchants are still gloating over their power and profits—know that the Lord is God, that his day is coming, and that in a single hour all the wickedness of the world will be overthrown. Therefore know whose side to be on, and with whom to persevere unto the end.

Dragons in Dungeons

I said I wasn’t going to try to interpret the monsters of Revelation, and I still won’t go into any detail on that, but their very presence in the Book does say something about the world in which we live and God’s plan for our deliverance, so I ought to say something.

The dragon, that is, the devil, makes his first appearance in chapter 12, though this isn’t the first demonic presence we encounter. One of the early plagues (in chapter 9) was that of clouds of scorpion-like locusts released from the bottomless pit. This dungeon was ruled by the fallen angel Apollyon, the destroyer. But the dragon appeared, as we might expect, with the appearance of the Woman, whom he has hated ever since he was cursed in Eden. This Woman has several levels of meaning: the chosen of Israel, the Church, and the Mother of God, for in this vision she gives birth to Christ, whom the dragon tries (but fails) to devour.

OK, so the dragon lost against Christ; now he goes after the holy angels, but St Michael and his heavenly hosts defeat the dragon and his infernal minions and cast them down—to Earth, of all places! Why couldn’t the devil have been cast down to Pluto or Neptune? Then life on earth would have been a lot easier! Well, we got stuck with all Heaven’s castoffs. Having been defeated by Christ and the holy angels, the dragon then goes after the Woman, but he is frustrated in his attempt to destroy her. Therefore “the dragon was angry with the woman, and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring” (12:17), which means you and me, and all those who try to be faithful to the Lord. This is the battle in which we find ourselves until the final judgment.

The dragon then enlists the aid of the beast and the false prophet (another beast with the voice of a dragon), thus assembling a kind of unholy trinity with which to fight the True God and the saints. You can read the story to get all the action, but one more thing the unholy trinity does is release from their mouths “three foul spirits like frogs” (16:13), which description is an insult to frogs, but the very presence of these demonic spirits is an affront to all that is good.

We’ll see later in greater detail how the Lord wins the victory over all these raging monsters, but one curious detail ought to be noted here. In the heat of the battle an angel seizes the dragon, chains him up and tosses him into a deep dungeon for a thousand years, yet “after that he must be loosed for a while” (20:3). Here we come to a point where attempts at interpretation fail, but frankly, I don’t have any better ones. Nobody really knows what the thousand years means, in which the devil is sealed in the dungeon and the saints reign with Christ—after which time the devil is to be released to “deceive the nations.” Some say that the reign of Christ and the saints is the time of the Church, from his Resurrection till his return, but if the last 2000 years is the time when the devil is locked up, Heaven help us when he is released! It seems to me that the dragon has been deceiving the nations all along, so my guess would be that the thousand-year reign hasn’t even begun yet. I think it’s quite obvious that the dragon in his rage is still making war on the children of the Woman.

Perhaps those for whom this Book was originally intended had the interpretive keys for all the obscure symbols and allusions, but we do not. One thing that is clear, however, is that anyone who wants to follow Christ cannot claim neutrality in this cosmic clash, cannot hope to remain in placid security while the dragon and his other reptilian riff-raff are still at large. Several times in this Book we find calls for endurance amid persecutions, fidelity amid seductions, purity of faith and worship amid rampant idolatry and blasphemy.

We don’t need to figure out the details of the future scenarios, but we do need to be aware that we have to take sides, we have to choose for the Lamb of God, the King of kings, whose victory over dragons and beasts is assured by the witness of a bloody Cross and an empty tomb. Let us pray that the definitive chaining up of the dragon will happen soon, for the nations are thoroughly deceived. Let us long to hear that “loud voice in heaven, saying: ‘Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down…they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb…’” (12:10-11).

Arise, O God, Above the Heavens!

As the priest returns to the sanctuary after distributing Holy Communion, he incenses the Holy Mysteries and says, quoting the psalms: “Arise, O God, above the heavens, and may your glory shine on earth!” I think this is a fitting passage on which to reflect for this feast of the Lord’s Ascension into Heaven.

First, the opening phrase: Arise, O God, above the heavens. This is actually what we are celebrating today. Forty days after Jesus rose from the dead, He rose above the heavens, that is, He ascended to his place at the right hand of the Father. This is the crowning of his passion and resurrection, the fulfillment of his glorification—his reward, so to speak, for accomplishing the Father’s will as a man on earth. His mission was not complete until He ascended to the Father, presenting the wounds of his sacrifice, which He will lovingly bear for all eternity as a testimony of his love. We know that the ascension was an essential aspect of his saving work, because Jesus could not renew his relationship with his disciples until it was accomplished. For He said to Mary Magdalene in the garden: “Do not touch Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father.” Yet this mystical ascension was accomplished shortly thereafter, for that same evening He said to his disciples: “Touch Me and see that a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see I have.” This first ascension is what we might term his theological ascension, which was a mystery—like his resurrection that no one saw happening—invisible to the eye but part of his saving work.

His visible ascension, 40 days later, marked the termination of his post-resurrection appearances, and was a powerful sign to the apostles. But, as we selfish humans tend to want to know—what does this have to do with us; what’s in it for us that Jesus rode a cloud back to Heaven? Several things, actually. First, this is a confirmation of everything that happened before. The disciples never witnessed the Incarnation or the Virgin Birth; they only met Jesus as a grown man. To see Him going back to Heaven in such a dramatic and miraculous way, confirms that He did indeed come from Heaven. One of the main points that Jesus tried to impress on his disciples (and all who would believe), according to John’s Gospel, is that the Father sent Him—He came from the Father, and was returning to Him. There’s a kind of symbolism to Christ’s going “up”: it shows that He is divine; He dwells where God dwells; He is Lord, not only of earth, but of heaven as well.

Another confirmation came from the angels who appeared at this glorious event and shook the disciples out of their open-mouthed ecstasy. “This One whom you saw ascend to Heaven,” they said, “will return the same way,” that is, visibly, gloriously. The Second Coming is not going to be some sort of spiritualized faith-experience, as some would like to reinterpret it. Jesus is going to come in glory and, as the Book of Revelation says, every eye will see Him.

There is more in it for us still. In the Old Testament, the high priest would enter the holy of holies with the blood of sacrificed animals as an offering for the atonement of the sins of the people. But now, Jesus, the High Priest of the New Covenant, as we read in Hebrews, enters the holy of holies in Heaven—the real one, not an earthly copy—offering his own shed blood for the forgiveness of our sins. He ever lives to intercede for us before the face of the Father, presenting to Him, until the consummation of the world and the end of time, his own perfect atoning sacrifice, which the Father receives and accepts as the new and everlasting covenant between God and man—the sacrificed body and blood of the Son of God made flesh.

This is one reason we pray verses concerning the ascension right after Holy Communion: at every Divine Liturgy we access, so to speak, or enter into the mystery of that Sacrifice of Christ which stands perpetually before the face of the Father. He died and rose but once, yet the fruits of this sacrifice are meant to be granted to the faithful of all nations and all times, until Jesus returns on the clouds, like the angels said. Meanwhile, we partake of this sacrifice as nourishment for the journey unto everlasting life, for, as the angel told Elijah: eat and drink, or else the journey will be too much for you—we will not have the strength to make the long pilgrimage through this earthly life unto heaven, if the Lord Himself is not our sustenance and nourishment. And He generously provides for us from his own inexhaustible Altar of Sacrifice, that He may abide in us and we in Him.

We have already begun to treat the second part of our opening psalm verse: “and let your glory shine on earth.” The presence of Christ in the sacramental Mysteries extends his heavenly glory to the earth, though in this present time before his second and glorious coming, his radiance is perceived by faith and not by sight. But how is it that Jesus, having ascended to the Father, descends again, as it were, to earth? He already told us this: When I go, I will send the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, to you. And just before He ascended, He told the disciples to wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit. It is by the Holy Spirit that Christ is present to us on earth before his second coming. It is by the Spirit that the presence of Christ, who rose above the heavens, can still shine on earth. We don’t know when Jesus will return, though the Scriptures tell us always to be awake and vigilant—precisely because we don’t know the day or the hour. It has pleased the Father not to reveal it to us, so it is vain, and contrary to the word of God, for people to try to predict the date, as so many throughout the ages have falsely done. Jesus made it very clear in the Acts of the Apostles: “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has fixed by his own authority.”

What is for us to know is that, in the words of Jesus, the Spirit is “the Promise of the Father.” All that the Father has willed for our salvation in Christ will be communicated to us by the Holy Spirit. Jesus said that the Spirit would glorify Him by declaring to us what is of Christ and of the Father. Thus the Spirit has inspired the Holy Scriptures in which we read the story of our salvation, and the Holy Tradition of the Church in which we live and experience the presence of Christ in all his mysteries.

So, as we await the imminent coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, and the eventual return of Christ at the end of the ages, and as we celebrate today the glorification of the Lord, let us exclaim in our worship: Arise, O God, above the heavens, and let your glory shine on earth!

Righteous and True

“Great and wonderful are your deeds, O Lord God the Almighty! Righteous and true are your ways, O King of the ages… Righteous are you in these your judgments… Yea, Lord God the Almighty, true and just are your judgments!” (Rev. 15:3; 16:5-7). We might wonder what all this high praise is about. Actually, it is about a series of foul and devastating plagues unleashed on mankind, described as the “wrath of God.” Now we might really wonder…

In the Book of Revelation, divine justice is seen as something in which we ought to rejoice, since it means the end of the persecutions of God’s faithful ones. As the plagues are about to descend on the world, it seems to be quite a glorious thing: “Out of the temple came seven angels…robed in pure bright linen, and their breasts girded with golden sashes. And one of the four living creatures gave the seven angels seven golden bowls—full of the wrath of God.” So, upon the earth come painful diseases, and rivers change into blood; the sun scorches men, there are earthquakes and storms of hail the size of basketballs. Rejoice!

The point of all this—for us, anyway—is that whatever God does is good, righteous, true, and just. Whether He is blessing us with peace and prosperity, or raining down blood, fire, or hundred-pound hailstones, his judgments are righteous and true. It may take a little time and effort to get used to this. But if we don’t, we’re setting ourselves up for a lot of anger and frustration, and if we really decide to rebel against chastisements and purifications, we may end up like the blasphemers who had thrown in their lot with the Beast and the False Prophet.

The plagues had a two-fold purpose: to punish evildoers, but at the same time to call them to repentance. For the “wrath of God” is not like human rage—God doesn’t lose control of his emotions, get all red in the face, and then impulsively do things He’ll regret later. No, God’s wrath is simply a righteous, just, and wise response to human wickedness when it has not heeded the repeated call to repentance. God wanted repentance to be the outcome of the plagues, but instead, people “cursed the name of God who had power over these plagues, and they did not repent and give him glory” (16:9). We get a little more detail after some earlier plagues: they “did not repent of the works of their hands nor give up worshiping demons and idols… nor did they repent of their murders or their sorceries or their immorality or their thefts” (9:20-21).

So what must we do? Praise Him for his righteous judgments, of course, and use the opportunities for repentance that are offered by various calamities. Better to endure a few plagues now than the Lake of Fire forever. We really have no idea of the meaning of all the events of our lives, especially the painful ones, so we have to trust Him “who has power over the plagues.” Whatever He sends or allows, He does so for reasons righteous and true. It is a hard but indispensable lesson to learn: we have to give Him glory even as the hailstones fall. The vast majority of spiritual writings these days seem intent on creating a portrait of God that is to our liking, that is soothing and consoling to our emotions, and that is not in any way threatening or demanding—in short, “God, as we’d like Him to be.” But the Scriptures reveal to us God as He is, or at least to the extent He has chosen to reveal Himself, and that is the image we ought to keep before us. God is a Lover, a Forgiver, an Embracer, a Savior, a Judge, an Avenger, a Punisher of evil and a Rewarder of good; He blesses his people with peace and He makes fire fall from heaven. There is much more that can be said, but the point is that we have to take God as He is, and not deny his right to judge with justice or even to inflict salutary punishment. For this very judgment of God, as we see in the Book, invites the praise and glory of the saints and angels, who know that everything God does is worthy of praise and honor.

Let us practice now, in the midst of our minor (even if many) trials, so that when the big plagues come we’ll be ready to bless and not to curse. “Great and wonderful are your deeds… righteous and true are your ways!” It will all be proven so in the end, anyway. Now is the time to affirm it in faith and trust, so we will at length be found worthy to join the heavenly choirs in praising the all-wonderful—even if mostly incomprehensible—righteous and true God!

Sovereign Lord, How Long...?

One of the visions St John had was of the souls of the martyrs in Heaven, “under the altar” (presumably because they had offered their lives as a sacrifice to Christ). Here is what they were saying: “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell upon the earth?” (Rev. 6:10). After this, “they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brethren should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been.”

Now I’m wondering if the martyrs said this for their own sake, or for the sake of John and all who would read his words. It seems to me that the souls of the martyrs, once safely in Heaven, would have no desire for blood-vengeance. After all, the proto-martyr St Stephen, even while on earth and not yet confirmed in heavenly glory, asked God to forgive those who were stoning him to death—in imitation of Christ, who forgave his crucifiers. So I would think that the martyrs in Heaven also would pray for the forgiveness and conversion of their executioners. But their words were meant to be an encouragement for the beleaguered and suffering witnesses of Christ who, as the psalmist often did, feel compelled to ask the big question: “O Lord, how long…?” His response is that they are to be patient, for the full number of those destined for martyrdom is not yet complete, that is, the plan of God for the consummation of all things is still in process.

Personally, I’m not interested in vengeance, but I confess that I ask the question for other reasons. Sovereign Lord, how long will evildoers prosper, how long will they oppress the poor, how long will violence and hatred destroy families and nations, how long will accidents and illnesses separate loved ones, how long will the demons deceive and seduce the unsuspecting masses, how long must we carry about the burdens of our own and others’ weaknesses and defects, how long must we continue in failure, sorrow, pain, and discouragement, how long must every little thing go wrong until life seems like and unending stream of wearying trials and frustrations, how long until we can finally be gathered unto You in everlasting peace?

As I said, the psalmist has often asked the question, and here is one of the answers he came up with: “Why are you cast down, my soul, and why groan within me? Hope in God; I will praise Him still, my Savior and my God” (Ps 42). The response given to the souls of the martyrs and to the psalmist is basically the same: Be patient, there is reason for hope. The Lord is still Lord and all things are in his hands; his plan is not yet fulfilled, but it will be. He is still your Savior and your God.

That doesn’t precisely answer the question, “how long?”, but the Lord has a habit of answering questions in his terms and not ours. Perhaps in a sense the answer lies with us, and not only in God’s inscrutable will. Perhaps it is not so much we who are waiting for Him as it is He who is waiting for us: waiting for us to give up our sins and selfish concerns, waiting for us to offer our lives completely to him as sacrifices for the fulfillment of his plans, waiting for us to have sufficient trust and love so as to be “windows” in the world for the communication of his grace, waiting for us to stop asking so many questions so we can put all our energies into faith and good works and unwavering witness to Jesus! We have our unique and indispensable contributions to make, but we tend either to want to stand on the sidelines and watch, or we are simply too preoccupied with ourselves to bother about the salvation of others or about God’s great designs for the world.

So the Sovereign Lord asks us: “How long…?”

Holy, Holy, Holy

“Lo, in heaven an open door!” (Rev. 4:1). Would that we could all see through this door, if only for a while. After St John received the messages for the churches, he was granted a vision of the glory of God and the heavenly worship. To me, this section (chs. 4-5) and the closing two chapters are really the essence of the book, for they are, as the first words of this chapter indicate, and open door to Heaven. Chapters 2-3 let us know the spiritual and moral requirements for walking through that door, and chapters 6-20 indicate what we’ll have to endure before the end, but here let us gaze for a moment through that open door.

If you’re hoping for a precise description of Heaven, you’ll not find it here, for everything is written in symbolic language. Does God the Father really look like jasper and carnelian (hey, these are only green and red chalcedony—not even precious stones!), and is there an emerald rainbow around his throne? The point is, everything is shining and sparkling and colorful and beautiful—when the door of Heaven opens for you, you can describe it in your own way!

There are 24 elders around the throne of God, symbolizing the 12 tribes of Israel plus the 12 apostles. Then there are those four “living ones” who seem to be seraphs, since they have six wings. But they are “full of eyes” and have faces like animals or birds. This is similar to what Ezekiel saw in his vision. The many eyes symbolize knowledge and vigilance. But the most important thing is not what they look like, but what they do: “Day and night, they never cease to sing: ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” When they do this, all the “living ones” and angels and saints and elders fall down and worship God.

The awesome holiness of God is a major theme in this Book, but the awareness and respect for it is often missing in our daily lives, our prayer, and even our worship. Sure, people say “holy, holy, holy” during the Mass, but they way it is celebrated in the post-Vatican II liturgical wasteland often falls far short of the glory that must be given to God, and it does not create the atmosphere of deep reverence and awe in which one would naturally be inclined to fall prostrate in adoration. The Byzantine Divine Liturgy, while it still can be celebrated poorly, at least is designed to foster reverence and a sense of the transcendent, holy God. This awareness needs to be recovered in all Christian worship.

“Holiness” is difficult to describe well, and I won’t attempt it here, except for one aspect that is repeated in these chapters of Revelation: worthiness. God’s holiness means He is worthy of adoration and everlasting praise. “Worthy are You, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power…” (4:11). Then the Lamb enters the vision, and He alone is found worthy to open the scroll of the mystery of God and of salvation history. (Don’t take this vision literally, either: He has seven horns and seven eyes—these symbolize fullness [the perfect number 7] of power and knowledge.) “Worthy are You, to take the scroll and open its seals…” And finally, “myriads and myriads and thousands and thousands” of angels sang out: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (5:9-12). We express our awareness of God’s holiness by exalting his worthiness to receive our worship.

Finally, in the climax of this vision through the open door of Heaven, the whole cosmos enters into ecstatic worship of God. “And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all therein, saying: ‘To Him who sits upon the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!’ And the four living ones said, ‘Amen!’ and the elders fell down and worshiped” (5:13-14). Not your average Sunday at church, but it should be! The point is, everything is inexorably moving toward this cosmic climax; this is the goal of all visible and invisible creation. How devastating it would be if we were to realize—all too late—that through our sins we had cut ourselves off from this endless, joyous, triumphal celebration! We’ll see later in the book that indeed all those who did not give glory to God on earth, who did not exalt the worthiness of the Lamb, will be plunged the everlasting sulfurous torment of the dragon and his foul minions—wholly and forever excluded from the boundless rejoicing on the other side of Heaven’s door.

So give glory to God, fall down before the throne with incense and prayer, and join the myriads of heavenly powers in their unceasing cry: Holy, holy, holy! Do not settle for less, and to not be seduced into the idolatry of whatever does not give glory to God and to the Lamb. This passing life is moving toward its climax. Make sure you are found worthy to walk through the door to Heaven!

The Eyes of the Blind Shall See

This Sunday the Byzantine Liturgy celebrates the healing of the blind man in chapter 9 of the Gospel of John. We see in the Gospel that, while the blind man was instantly cured of his physical blindness by the word of the Lord and by washing in the pool of Siloam, his spiritual enlightenment went through several stages. He first recognized Jesus as a healer, then a prophet, then the Son of God, whom he worshiped. There are several levels of blindness that we too have to overcome before we are fully enlightened. I can see at least four, and those are what we’ll look at today. I will call them the enlightenments of faith, morals, self-awareness, and spiritual or mystical awareness. Enlightenment as to faith and morals is somewhat akin to the blind man’s washing in the pool and receiving his sight. When we are baptized, we receive, among other things, the theological virtue of faith. It may be in seed form, but that seed is indispensable if there is to be an eventual flowering of faith and bearing fruit in a life pleasing to God. The capacity to believe in God and to develop a sound moral sense are part of our initial enlightenment. These ought to be cultivated by our parents, teachers, etc. It is possible, however, that we can be corrupted after this initial enlightenment; our faith can weaken if it is not instructed and fed; our consciences can be dulled by our lazy and spineless acceptance of the ways of the world. But I will assume that you who are reading this have sufficient faith and moral sense to enable you to live according to the Gospel and the teachings of the Church.

A much more difficult enlightenment to attain is that of self-awareness. By that I mean seeing ourselves as we really are, without the blinders of pride and self-deception, and hence knowing how to rightly relate to God and to other people. Most people, in practice, estimate themselves rather too highly and judge others rather too critically. I once asked a group of people, as an exercise in self-awareness and self-improvement, to make a list of their own faults and of possible ways of correcting them. There was quite a spectrum of results. On one end were those who made an honest and conscientious self-assessment. In the middle were those who did list their faults, but grudgingly and with some resentment. At the other end was one who also made a list of faults—but they were the faults of others, not his own! This is really the worst kind of blindness, for it is not a mere inability to see, but a refusal even to look; not just a defect but a harmful choice—a refusal to look honestly at one's own faults, responding instead with indignation and pointing out others’ faults, to deflect the light of truth away from one's own darkness.

When Alex Jones, the Pentecostal minister who recently converted to Catholicism, had his first great personal encounter with God, he felt filled and surrounded with an indescribable presence and peace and certainty of the existence and loving-goodness of God. But immediately he became clearly and painfully aware of his own sins and his need for conversion and repentance. In the searching presence of God, all self-deception and dulled self-awareness must disappear. Only the truth remains. So let us realize that if we don’t have a humbling awareness of our sinfulness, and if we instead resent correction or begin to blame others, we are not in the presence of God, not in the Light; we are still blind people groping around in the darkness. To make matters worse, there are those who, while in darkness, pride themselves on their clear-sightedness.

These are like the Pharisees in the Gospel. When they heard Jesus speak about coming for judgment, to make the blind see and the seeing blind, they said: You’re not calling us blind, are you? His response is one we need to reflect on carefully: “If you were blind, would be no sin in that; but ‘we see,’ you say, and so your sin remains.” There is no sin in being physically blind, or even in ignorance, if one is willing to be instructed and to learn. But hardness of heart settles in the one whose pride and refusal to either learn from others or honestly look at himself keeps him in a state of spiritual blindness, which only a miracle can heal.

The last type of enlightenment I’ll mention here is that spiritual-mystical awareness that opens us up to the mysteries of God in and around us. We cannot produce this on our own; it is a gift, but we are required to labor in prayer and asceticism in order to create the necessary dispositions for receiving it. Only the pure of heart can see God and be brought into his intimacy. The church where we worship, for example, is full of angels and saints and of the presence of God Himself, who receives the prostrate adoration of the heavenly hosts, as they sing: “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” St John Chrysostom says that the sanctuary is crammed with angels adoring as we offer the mystical sacrifice. He says one would have to be made of stone to feel like he is still on earth and not in heaven during those sacred moments. Now there was a man who had attained a high level of enlightenment. Yet here is a lesson for us all: he still had his blind spots; for example, he was a rather virulent anti-semite.

So even as we advance in spiritual life, even as our awareness of the presence of God grows, we need to pray that God will reveal to us our blind spots (since we’re lagging behind—He’s already revealed our blind spots to everyone who knows us!), so that we will grow in that enlightened self-awareness which enables us to overcome sin and bad habits, and which prepares us for a deeper mystical awareness of the things of God. And let us especially not fear or refuse to look at what has to be changed in ourselves—for the only blind person that can not be healed is the one who will not be healed, who will not wash in Siloam, will not do as the Lord commands, will not cry out: “Lord, I want to see!”

First Love, New Name

I’d like to return to the Lord’s messages to the seven churches in chapters 2-3 of the Book of Revelation. We’ve looked at the major themes already, but I want to focus on a couple of specific sayings.

The first message is to the Church in Ephesus. Notice that it doesn’t say the church of Ephesus, but the Church in Ephesus, and it’s the same to all the others. This is not a minor distinction, for it indicates that the Church is one, even though its particular manifestations are spread over the world. Today’s bishops would do well to remember that the Church in Los Angeles, for example, is supposed to be the same Church as that in Rome, where the universal leadership resides. It is not the church of Los Angeles, as if the local leadership had authority to re-invent Christianity according to contemporary trends.

Anyway, the Church in Ephesus was hardworking, discerning, and patiently enduring for the Lord’s sake, but He still had a reproach for them: “You have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember, then, from what you have fallen, repent and do the works you did at first” (2:4-5). This can probably apply to many of us, especially those who have been laboring in the Lord’s vineyard for many years. The first fervor, the first love, tends to wear a little thin—“the thrill is gone” as one succumbs to routine or becomes a bit weary under continual burdens, even if they are borne in faith and hope.

I remember a kind of spiritual springtime back around 1980, when I was beginning to discern my vocation. (Come to think of it, it was springtime. I was living in Orlando, Florida, and the air was filled with the scent of orange blossoms. And I mean filled. You could be driving down Interstate 4 and, despite the freeway traffic and pollution, orange blossoms would still be flying in through your open windows.) During that time, everything was fresh, I was re-discovering the presence of the Lord and my soul was being cleansed and invigorated as I turned from a dead-end way of life toward the boundless horizons of the Kingdom of God, sweeter even than orange blossoms. And my early years in the monastery, though laced with hardships and deprivations, were full of grace and fervor, and at times I even went beyond the call of duty in vigils, penances, etc.

Now, well, I have to go back to the Book and hear the Lord tell me how far I’ve fallen from my first love! In some ways, though, I think (I hope) I have matured since then, though I must confess that with advancing age and decreasing energy I’m not exactly turning cartwheels for the Lord. Each of us in our own way has to receive the word of the Lord and see where we might have slipped from a level of joy and generosity that He would like us to recover. This is for our sake, because our falling away from fervor can only be harmful to us, and can make us vulnerable to even more destructive failures.

There’s something that the Lord promises to the saved (that is, to “him who conquers”), something that has often intrigued me: “I will give him…a new name…which no one knows except him who receives it” (2:17). This is an expression of a very personal intimacy, a secret shared with Jesus. Our founder Fr Boniface, who was for many years a missionary in Africa, told us that in certain tribes, along with the name the child is known by in the family and public society, the mother gives the child a name known only to her and the child, and by which she will address the child at certain special times. This creates a unique bond between the two, for no one else is allowed into this particular intimacy. So, along with our baptismal or religious names, by which we are known to all, the Lord will give us a special name, known only to Him and to us. It will be something that expresses our inner essence and beauty and perhaps the witness of our life—as only He knows it, so it will fill us with delight to learn of the way He sees and loves us. So many wonderful things await us in the heavenly Jerusalem!

Let us, then, both recover our first love and realize the unique intimacy that Jesus would like to establish with us. Perhaps He will give us a hint of our new name even before we leave this earth. In any case, nothing is lost and everything is gained by our increasing fervor, fidelity, and love for the Lord. Through his grace and mercy, may this prophecy of love and pure intimacy come true for us: “They shall walk with Me in white, for they are worthy” (3:4).

Prepare for the Kingdom

I'm just posting this short notice to direct you to a new blog, which may prove helpful to you or to someone you know. It is written by my friend Laura, whom I mentioned a couple weeks ago. She is suffering from terminal cancer, but she wants to share what this final journey is teaching her. God has been merciful to her in drawing her close to Him, even before the onset of the disease, so that she could be well-disposed and spiritually ready as her passage to the next life becomes more imminent. She is bravely holding up, not only under the disease itself, but in the various other sufferings due to chemotherapy and a bit of medical malpractice.

The "contemplation of death" is an ancient Christian and specifically monastic practice, but one that is almost universally avoided today out of fear, denial, or mere lack of faith. Laura gently draws us back to that which we all must face--and not necessarily in the distant future. For if we are not ready to meet the Lord now, what makes us think we'll be ready to meet Him later?

She just published her first post today, but I encourage you to visit her site and to receive whatever wisdom you may find for living and dying well, that is, in the grace and mercy and love of the Lord. Today is the day for beginning to strengthen your trust in Him, because when your time approaches, you will really need it, and it is very difficult to manufacture it instantly in a crisis. You need to have your confidence already in place. You can click here to visit, or click on the "Prepare for the Kingdom" link at the right in the links column. May we all walk in the Spirit of grace and peace on our common journey to the Kingdom.

A Festive Interlude

We'll take a short break from our reflections on the Book of Revelation. Today marks a year since I, with fear and trembling, published my first post here on Word Incarnate. I may have to go to Purgatory for this, but I do feel a certain sense of satisfaction, along with gratitude, of course, for having made it this far. My original intention was to write a couple posts a week, expecting to dry up after a few months, but it has turned into a daily (almost) labor of love. I'm just short of my 300th post. This is something I could never have done without the grace of the Holy Spirit (I launched the blog during the week after Pentecost last year), and without your prayer support as well. Just in case you haven't been praying for me, feel free to start any time now.

So I'm celebrating by writing this short, useless little post marking the first anniversary of Word Incarnate. I don't know what the next year will bring, or whether I can write another 300 posts without repeating myself too much. But I'll take it one day at a time, praying to the Holy Spirit, reflecting on the word of God, trying to communicate the truth and love of God in a time and society which needs it very badly, but which is lamentably closing its eyes, ears, and heart to Him who stands at the door and knocks (Revelation 3:20). One man who commented on a recent post remarked that what I wrote was simply the faith of the Church, yet that is precisely why it is unpopular with many, why the substance of it remains unpreached from most pulpits. What used to be standard Catholic fare needs to be so again, even if most people seem to prefer a more bland or unhealthy diet.

Anyway, I give thanks to God and to those of you who have encouraged me to persevere. I've no laurels to rest upon, for I've not yet been "faithful unto death," which is the requirement for receiving "the crown of life" (Rev. 2:10). I hope to be like the servant who is found doing the Master's will and watching for his return. Someday, at length, when I've finally done enough, they'll find me slumped over my computer keyboard, hand on the mouse, cursor pointing to the "publish post" icon, having been about to give you one more day of Word Incarnate...

Repent, Hold Fast, Conquer

Jesus had messages for the seven churches in the region in which St John lived (and perhaps over whom he had some authority). These comprise chapters 2 and 3 of the Book of Revelation. Even though part of what Jesus said applies only to the circumstances of that time and those particular places, most of his words can apply directly to us, and to the Church everywhere in the world today.

The title of this post gives the major themes and repeated injunctions of these divine messages. In addition, Jesus declares his omniscience—for Christ is “He who searches mind and heart”—by beginning almost all of the messages to the churches like this: “I know your works…” And that is for better or worse. Most of the churches have room for improvement. The Lord starts out by commending them for their labors and faith, but often He must add: “But I have this against you…” So here is the call to repentance. “Remember from what you have fallen, repent… Remember what you received and heard; keep that, and repent… Be zealous, and repent…” Probably the most frightening is the one that applies to the great number of unenthusiastic, half-hearted, or apathetic Christians: “Because you are lukewarm…I will spit you out of My mouth” (3:16). Therefore repentance is the primary and most urgent work that must be done. First turn from sin, correct what is not of God in your life—then you can be about the business of fidelity and perseverance.

The Lord then calls his faithful ones to hold fast in the truth, for they were sorely tried both by persecutions from outside and by heresies and errors from within. “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life… Hold fast what you have, until I come… Hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown…” Perseverance in the faith is one of the most important virtues to maintain during turbulent times, for those who turn away into seductive errors or who buckle under the pressure of persecution forsake their heavenly reward.

Finally, the fruit of repentance and of the steadfast holding and defense of the Faith is victory. All of the messages to the churches, without exception, conclude with a blessing and promise for “he who conquers.” In this the faithful become like Christ the Victor, the Conqueror of sin and death. The same term here used for the saints is the one used in the common “logo” of Christ: IC XC NIKA, Jesus Christ Conquers, which is emblazoned all over Eastern Christianity, and is even stamped into the bread used for the Holy Eucharist. Whoever conquers everything that fights against truth and divine revelation and the will of God, will enjoy manifold heavenly blessings: “To him who conquers I will grant to eat of the tree of life, which is in the Paradise of God… He who conquers shall not be hurt by the second death… He who conquers shall be clothed in white garments, and I will not blot out his name from the Book of Life; I will confess his name before my Father and his angels… He who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne…”

We ought to keep these themes in mind as we read the Book of Revelation and as we live our daily lives. There may not yet be overt, sweeping persecutions, imprisonments, and executions of Christians (not in this country, anyway), but more subtle ones are clearly evident—and increasing. We must be willing to stand up for what we believe in, even to the point of martyrdom. Repent of sin, hold fast the Faith, and conquer evil and the devil by the power of the Blood of the sacrificed Lamb, the victorious Word of God, who rides in triumph and glorifies forever his faithful servants.

I Hold the Keys

Brace yourself, for we’re about to embark on a little trip through the Book of Revelation. I’m reading it once again (as I regularly read all the books of the New Testament), and I expect to be writing a few posts on it. But don’t expect original interpretations of monsters and arcane symbols and end-time visions. I see this book more as a call to repentance, perseverance, and hope, and as a witness to the glory of heavenly worship, in which we are called to share.

The Book begins: “The Apocalypse of Jesus Christ…” Solemn indeed. “Apocalypse” simply means “revelation,” literally a lifting of the veil. All of Scripture is a “Book of Revelation” in a broad sense, for as the word of God it reveals his truth, his love, and his intentions for the salvation mankind. But the book that bears this specific title was written in a time of persecution and gives a glimpse of the victory of Christ’s faithful ones—in that age, in the present age, and in the age to come.

It begins with a vision of Christ granted to John (the author names himself as such in the book, and it is usually accepted that this is the Apostle John). Immediately he gives the context of the current struggle: “I…share with you in Jesus the tribulation and the kingdom and the patient endurance” (1:9). Then he describes his vision of the risen and glorified Christ, which you can read for yourself. I will mention, however, that I am not far from the truth if I think I hear the voice of God in the ocean waves whenever I go to the coast, for “his voice was like the sound of many waters” (v 15).

What is most important for this present reflection is what Jesus first said to John, once the latter recovered from the impact of this glorious vision, which left him prostrate: “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the Living One; I died, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I hold the keys of Death and Hades. Now write what you see…”

It is noteworthy that in a book full of fearful imagery, a repeating refrain is “Fear not.” But it is only because of the presence of the Lord, the First and the Last, the eternal Word, the Lord of history and of the everlasting Kingdom, that we have grounds not to fear in the face of the tribulations and menaces of our troubled and evil age. He gives us more reasons still: first, that He is living and reigning in the power and glory of his Resurrection, having sacrificed Himself to take away the sins of the world—“I died, and behold, I am alive forevermore.” Finally, that He holds the keys of Death and Hades. Now that He is risen from the dead, death and the netherworld must submit to Him. This is important for the message of this book, because to the first readers of it (and to many down the ages), martyrdom was a real possibility. They needed to know that the threat of death could not separate them from Christ or in any way diminish their motivation to be faithful to the Lord.

The fact that Jesus “holds the keys” has a wider application still. His holding the keys means that nothing in this world escapes his notice or his authority. Nothing happens that He does not at least permit. Our lives are not random or subject to absurd or tragic twists of fate, for Jesus is the Lord. He is risen from the dead, his word is truth and law, his power shall be matched or usurped by no one.

This ought to be a source of consolation and hope and strength for us. Life is difficult; the enemies of righteousness are many; the world is often heartless, godless, and unfriendly. So we look to Him who died but lives forevermore, whose eyes are like a flame of fire, whose voice is like many waters, whose face shines like the sun. He alone holds the keys: to life, death, happiness, Heaven and Hell, and all the mysteries of God, here and hereafter. Let us keep our confidence and persevere with trust. “‘I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (v 8). And along with the keys, He holds each of us in the palm of his hand.

Ecclesia in 2020

As the cutting-edge Church of the Modern World, we’re here to make things comfortable and convenient for you. We’ve already rounded off some major feast days to the nearest Sunday, to spare you the time-intensive hassle of going to church twice in the same week (don’t forget, “Ascension Sunday” is coming up: 40, that is, 43 days after the Resurrection, just like it says somewhere in the latest Bible CDs). Now we have a new option for you. Soon we will probably be shelving that disagreeable practice of confession altogether, but in the meantime we are proud to announce Online Absolution for your convenient fulfillment of that tedious obligation. This will save you the time and trouble of waiting in line (not that there ever is one) outside the confessional.

Here’s how it works. Just log on to www.cyberconfessional.com and hit the Enter key. This is how you “enter” the confessional (little joke there). Make sure your sound and your PC microphone are turned on, by the way. Once you enter the cyber confessional you will be introduced to your online confessor, Monsignor Microchip. No need to fear; he is a user-friendly confessor and always gives easy, meaningless penances. You can make a keystroke confession or, if your computer supports it, a voice-activated one.

Start by pulling down the Personal Profile menu. This way, Monsignor Microchip (or, if someone has already logged on to him, his assistant, Father File-Format) will have some idea of what template to use in evaluating your confession. Choose from “Basically Good” (most people select this), “Tend to Be a Crank,” or “I’ve no Idea Why I Have to Go to Confession.” If you’re still a little nervous or not sure how to proceed (since most likely you haven’t been to confession for some years now), click on the “Help” icon and Monsignor will direct you to the “standard sins” menu. Pull that down and select whatever applies. Be honest now, for as soon as you logged on to this site, “conscience spyware” was downloaded into your computer, so Monsignor can tell if you’re holding anything back. If you’ve been exceptionally bad, click the “advanced” tab for a menu of the nastier sins.

If you’re really sorry, select the “cyber-tears” option, then press “insert.” Monsignor will notice your compunction and will compassionately reassure you that all is well. If you want him to do that repeatedly, just keep clicking the “refresh” icon. For penance he will most likely request (though there may be one of those *required fields here) that you make an online donation to cyberconfessional.com, so have your credit card handy. After all, even electronic ecclesiastics need some maintenance from time to time.

Now comes the great moment. Turn the volume up (if you are hearing-impaired, click the “say what?” icon, and the formula of absolution will appear in a 36 point, Old English font on your screen). Now listen (bow your head too—the spyware is watching) as Monsignor pronounces the words you’ve been waiting to hear: “Those really aren’t sins, you know; the only real sins are intolerance and not being good to yourself, but if you insist on living in the past and clinging to your silly traditions, very well then, go in peace and be free from whatever was causing your neurotic guilt.” Now go back to your list of sins, click “select all,” then “delete.” Voila! Your trash folder has been purged!

I tried this once, just to see if it would work, but as soon as I hit the “delete” button, I received a “system error” message, code number “x000diablo000”: unable to execute command; you are still in your sins…beep!...still in your sins…beep!...still in your…

Then I decided to get down on my knees and repent from my heart. I found a living, breathing priest of God, confessed my sins, received absolution from the mouth of Christ through him, did my penance and walked away in the joyful freedom of the children of God. I’ll use my computer for other things…

Give Me a Drink

I’m not quoting here the words of a thirsty customer at some dispensary of intoxicants, but rather of the Lord Jesus Himself. This Sunday we celebrate Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan woman, as part of the Church’s post-paschal baptismal mystagogy.

After a long journey through the dusty desert, Jesus rested at Jacob’s well in Sychar, under the high noon sun. He was thirsty with a double thirst: water for his perspiring body and, more importantly, He was thirsting for the salvation of the poor, sinful woman at the well, for his very sustenance was to do what the Father had sent Him to do (see John 4:34).

St John the Evangelist not only wrote the profound and mystically theological revelation of God contained in his Gospel, but he also, in the process, employed a unique literary style, one that delights in layered meanings, using misunderstandings or words with more than one meaning to manifest the mystery of God, which cannot be exhausted in a few declarative sentences.

Here he highlights a conversation centered on water and presents Jesus’ teaching on grace as a gift of living water, which quenches our deepest thirst for truth, love, and salvation. The little misunderstanding occurs in the contrast between well water and flowing water (“living water” is another way of saying “flowing water”). The woman was surprised that a Jew would want to drink anything touched by a Samaritan—for they were considered unclean due to a history of intermarriage with Gentiles and because of ritual aberrations—so she hesitated to fulfill his request for a drink. This was Jesus’ cue, so He said: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water” (4:10). Not getting it, she reminded him that they were at a well, not a flowing river, and He didn’t even have a bucket, so where was He going to get this living (flowing) water to give her?

So the Lord launched into his teaching about the grace of the Holy Spirit. We need no well, because this spiritual Living Water “will become in [us] a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” OK, so now she says she wants this Water, but she still doesn’t understand, because the reason she wants it is so she won’t become thirsty or have to keep going to that darn well to draw water every day!

Jesus patiently keeps at it, first with a reminder of her need for repentance (“he whom you now have is not your husband”), and then with a teaching that shows how God transcends local sanctuaries and is not tied to one place or one particular cultic practice: “neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father… true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.” Finally, He did something, according to the Gospel accounts, anyway, that He didn’t do for anybody else during his earthly ministry (except the apostles, but for them it was much later than their first meeting)—He revealed Himself explicitly as the Messiah, the Christ. And He did so to such an outcast, who was evidently ostracized by the other townswomen; they would have gathered to draw water in the cool early morning, not at midday. When the woman at the well said that the Messiah was coming, and He would clarify all these issues for everyone, Jesus responded: “I who speak to you am He.”

We don’t get a chance to enter into this solemn revelation, nor share the thoughts of the woman, for at that very moment the disciples bustled onto the scene with their bags of groceries, insisting that the Master eat something (but refraining from making any comments about what He was doing with that slatternly woman at the well.) But his word had found its mark, and the woman ran back to town rejoicing that she had found the Messiah and inviting all to come and see. Jesus had done his work, had satisfied his thirst for the cleansing of her soul, and had thus done the will of the Father. Later tradition calls this woman St Photina, the enlightened one, for she heard the word of God and kept it, leading many others to enlightenment, for after hearing Him speak they exclaimed: “this is indeed the Savior of the world!” (4:42).

Let Jesus sit down with you at the well of your daily life. Listen to Him; let Him probe a bit into your soul and reveal to you what still needs to be done. Don’t quibble about fine points of theology; don’t evade the real issues. He thirsts for your soul, so go ahead, give Him a drink. You’ll get inexhaustible rivers of Living Water in return.

Grace Abounded All the More

There is a mystery contained in these lines:

“Your regrets, if-onlys,
sins and shame,
drowned now in the Blood,
constrained now—somehow—
to serve the Mercy…” [anonymous]

St Paul put the same mystery this way: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 5:20-21). Actually, there are several mysteries here: divine grace, love, mercy, and repentance.

What does it mean that sin and shame must “serve the Mercy”? Perhaps we could look at another passage from Romans for enlightenment: “All things work for good for those who love God…” (8:28). Read it again. Does it say some things, or most things? No, it says all things. This is one of the strokes of divine genius, which comes, like everything He designs and does, from love. We look at our lives and see much that is wasted, much that went wrong, that we regret, that we’d like to do over—even, perhaps, a considerable amount of real evil. We can’t go back in time to change things; it is history. But we can go ahead into eternity, and see things with a heavenly vision.

There we see that all the evil and failures and pains (whether received or inflicted) have been marvelously transformed, are no longer destructive but rather constructive, for now they magnify the mercy of the Lord. That is because they testify that even this is not stronger than the Lord’s mercy, even my wickedness has not extinguished the flame in his heart, and his glory is all the greater for having forgiven even me.

“What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!” (6:1-2). Read once again the above passage from Romans 8. This abounding grace is for those who love God. This is crucial, because without repentance of our sins, they cannot serve the Mercy, but only the Justice. Without repentance (which is one expression of our love for God), that Justice will be served in Hell! This is why the Gospel message of repentance (one of the most prominent, repeated, and essential ones) must be proclaimed far and wide.

Some people confuse mercy with a kind of wrongheaded or winking tolerance, in effect a condoning of sin. The beauty and glory of divine mercy is not that it overlooks or minimizes sin, but that it recognizes its horror and vileness, confronts it squarely, and dissolves it through forgiveness. Tolerating sin or refusing to truthfully name it does no such thing. That only allows it to fester and spread. If you think God is telling you that you are just fine as you are, then it is not God but the devil to whom you are listening. He will tell you that you do not need to repent: God is a Big Softie, a benign Old Grampa, so everything is all right. But it’s not all right, and you do need to repent. It is only through repentance, based on love of God, that your sins will ultimately “serve the Mercy” and glorify Him forever. But what a gift this is! God truly “makes all things new.” He even turns our sins into opportunities to glorify Him!

God will speak only the truth to us: the pure truth, the beautiful truth, the hard truth, the painful truth—in short, the whole truth. Part of the painful truth is that we have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. But here is the beautiful truth: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” Gather up all your sins and regrets and secret shame, and bring them all to the Lord. He will make them serve the Mercy, and Grace will abound.

If only you knew the Gift of God, Jesus told the Samaritan woman. If only we knew how He can turn evil into good—if we first acknowledge it as evil and then let go of it! God will work all things for the good—if you love Him. God will be glorified, even though you’ve sinned—if you repent. He’s ready to work a miracle for you. Don’t keep Him waiting!

Hey Jude

The Letter of Jude is a rather curious piece of Scripture. Only one chapter, several similarities in content and tone to Second Peter. And we’re not even sure who wrote it.

Most likely it is not the Apostle Jude, one of the Twelve. Of course he is an apostle in an extended sense, since he is a biblical author. When Peter and Paul write, they call themselves apostles. Jude doesn’t, and neither does James. James wasn’t one of the Twelve either, but is he who was called “brother of the Lord,” the first bishop of Jerusalem. Jude calls himself “brother of James.” This same James? We don’t know, but perhaps. One more thing. Jude speaks of the Apostles in the third person and past tense, which he mostly likely wouldn’t do if he were one of the Twelve. “Remember, beloved, the predictions of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ; they said to you…” (Jude 17).

Now that you have this interesting but relatively useless information, what does St Jude actually say? He starts out in a way that I sometimes have to start out: by saying that he had hoped that he could simply write a reflection on the salvation we’ve been offered by Christ, but instead he had to turn it into an exhortation to defend and fight for the faith, which is being distorted and attacked by enemies. How pleasant it would be simply to create gentle and irenic reflections on the mysteries of faith, but often it is more urgently necessary to warn people—like Ezekiel the watchman—of proliferating errors and all manner of spiritual slag being substituted for the pure truth of the Gospel.

Jude also silences one of the arguments of those who desperately and disingenuously try to show that the Bible does not in fact condemn homosexual behavior. They say that the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was not sodomy (wonder where that word came from?), but lack of hospitality to strangers—give me a break! Anyway, here’s what Jude says: “Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise acted immorally and indulged in unnatural lust, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire” (v 7). This is also the only place in Scripture where it says explicitly that certain people are actually in Hell.

He goes on to list the errors of the heretics and enemies of the Church. Finally, though, we get a beautiful trinitarian exhortation: “Build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life” (vv 20-21). Pray in the Spirit; remain in the Father’s love; wait for the mercy of Jesus—this is what will bring us to eternal life. He closes with an encouraging doxology. He says that God is “able to keep you from falling and to present you without blemish before the presence of his glory with rejoicing.” The implication is that even if we do fall He can raise us up, because He is able to bring us, immaculate, into his presence. Now there’s something to look forward to: in purified perfection, entering into the glory of God with rejoicing.

That is the goal and destiny of our lives. That is what makes all the hardships of this life endurable, all the sufferings and sacrifices worthwhile. The day is coming when we will enter into divine glory, rejoicing. Hey, Jude, thanks for that blessed vision, that call to hope, despite all that would fight against our holy faith. Pray for us that we may join you in the glory—rejoicing!

God is Light

The theme of light and darkness is a major one for St John, especially in his Gospel and First Epistle. We’re all familiar with his famous declaration, “God is love” (1John 4:8, 16), but maybe we’re not so familiar with this one: “God is light” (1:5). This is so important that the Apostle makes it central to his preaching. After the magnificent and sublime introduction to this epistle—I have to write at least some of it here: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of life; the Life was made manifest, and we saw it and testify to it, and proclaim to you the eternal Life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us”—he says that the following is what he heard from Him and now proclaims to us: “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.”

If God is Light, then what is the darkness that finds no place in Him? We learn from the context that Light is manifested primarily in truth and love, which are the key elements of God’s holiness and perfection. Therefore the darkness is manifested primarily in falsehood and hatred, which for St John are the foundations of sin. The light of truth and love, and the darkness of lies and hatred, appear constantly throughout this epistle.

“He who loves his brother abides in the light… But he who hates his brother is in the darkness…” (2:10-11). Can’t get clearer than that: love is light and hatred is darkness. “If we say we have fellowship with Him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light…we have fellowship with one another… He who says ‘I know Him,’ but disobeys his commandments is a liar and the truth is not in him; but whoever keeps his word, in him truly love for God is perfected” (1:6-7; 2:4-5). This is quite a rich passage, for in it we see the following:

--walking in darkness is the fruit of lies and severs us from fellowship with Christ
--walking in the light is living in the truth, and this brings not only fellowship with Christ but with other people as well
--by our fruits we will be known, for if we are disobedient, it doesn’t matter what we say; pious protestations will be shown to be lies
--obedience to God’s word is not only living in truth, but the perfection of love

Thus, as we move closer to the Light, and begin to walk therein, we are moving away from all dishonesty and bad will toward others. We are beginning to walk in the way of truth which, precisely because it is the way of truth, is also the way of love, for in God who is Light, truth and love are one. See how everything holds together. We cannot embrace light and darkness at the same time. They are two different worlds. The darkness is full of all manner of sin and evil and hatred and deception, and all that is anti-God. But the light is full of all that is good and holy and pure and joyful and true and loving—all that reflects the beauty of God. Therefore if we find both light and darkness within us, it is an anomaly (though an all-too-common one, I’m afraid), a contradiction, a disease, a tense and turbulent state of affairs that must be resolved.

It can only be resolved by the grace of God and our choice to change, to live wholly in the light, the truth, the love of God. The Apostle believes this is possible, and actually imperative, even in this life. This is because we have the anointing of the Holy One, because the love of the Father has made us his children, and because we have been given the grace to overcome the evil one. We tend to be unaware of how well God has equipped us, because all we usually experience are our own defects, limitations, and failures, and therefore the encroaching darkness pushes us toward dread and despair. But the Apostle proclaims: “the darkness is passing away [for its arrogant claims are, of course, lies] and the true light is already shining” (2:8).

In God there is no darkness at all. We are God’s children, and we shall be like Him (3:1-2). Embrace truth and love at all costs, and thus walk in the light. For “our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ” (1:3).

The Hidden Person of the Heart

St Peter has something to say about women who are disciples of Christ, and who wish to attract more disciples through “reverent and chaste behavior,” but I think this can apply to all. Peter learned from his Master that what matters is the heart, the life and the mysteries thereof, if one wants to follow Him whose heart was pierced for love of us.

First of all, he says how not to be: not obsessed with fine clothing, expensive jewelry, the latest hairstyles. (Perhaps he would say to men not to be obsessed with money, cars, carousing, and the like.) “But let it be the hidden person of the heart…” (1Peter 3:4). He contrasts outer adornment with inner truth and beauty. Instead of material jewels that can be destroyed or stolen, he suggests we adorn ourselves “with the imperishable jewel of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.”

In today’s fast-paced, competitive, and noisy world, a gentle and quiet spirit is indeed as rare as a priceless jewel. But that is precisely what is precious in God’s sight. I don’t think we’ll find anywhere in Scripture that a bellicose, ambitious, greedy, dominating, egocentric spirit is precious in God’s sight. Rather, such would be an abomination. Yet that is how, in effect, we are trained and conditioned to be.

The word of God always has a way of putting the brakes on our runaway desires and misguided agendas. Wait, slow down, listen: it is a gentle and quiet spirit that is precious to God. What He wants you to cultivate is the hidden person of the heart, the true you created in the image of the true God. So it’s not just trendy fashions He wants you to shed—it’s also, and more importantly, disordered passions He wants you to shed, and all that which disfigures that hidden person of the heart, all that brings the turmoil of a bad conscience into a spirit created to be gentle and quiet.

St Peter gives us a few ingredients for nourishing that hidden and gentle person: unity of spirit, sympathy, love of the brethren, a tender heart and a humble mind, not returning evil for evil, but a blessing instead (3:8-9). “For the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil” (3:12). That’s kind of like saying that God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.

Seek, then, to discover the hidden person of your own heart. Nothing you can do to adorn your body will make you beautiful before God. Recover his hidden image instead; manifest it through love and sacrifice and joyful hope in the coming fulfillment of his promises. Cultivate the inner life. Practice being gentle and quiet, thus opening your heart to the voice of the Spirit. Reverent and chaste behavior is not valued by many in today’s society, and “they are surprised that you do not now join them in their wild profligacy, and they abuse you; but they will give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead” (4:4-5).

The choice should be easy: join those who have to account before God for their hedonism and materialism, or do what makes you precious in God’s sight. The practical application isn’t easy, but for that very reason the fruits are all the more sweet.

Woman

I’d like to begin with a rather lengthy quote from Fr Alexander Schmemann, excerpted from his homily on the Sunday of the Myrrh-Bearing Women. It is quite beautiful, yet bittersweet in a way, because what he is offering here as a kind of last hope for humanity is already being destroyed, though for his sake I’m glad he never lived to see its most grotesque manifestations. This reflection takes as its point of departure the tender love and loyalty of those women who sought to anoint the body of Jesus early on that first Easter Sunday.

“Today, I think, we are especially in need of recovering this love and basic human loyalty. For we have entered a time when even these are being discredited by harmful concepts of the person and human life now prevailing in this world. For centuries, the world still had the weak, but still flickering and shining, glow from that faithfulness, love and co-suffering which was silently present at the sufferings of the Man cast aside by all. And we need to cling, as if to a last thread, to everything in our world that still thrives on the warm light of simple, earthly, human love. Love does not ask about theories and ideologies, but speaks to the heart and soul. Human history has rumbled along, kingdoms have risen and fallen, cultures have been built and bloody wars have been fought, but what has remained unchanging on earth and in this troubled and tragic history is the bright image of the woman. An image of care, self-giving, love, compassion. Without this presence, without this light, our world, regardless of its successes and accomplishments, would be a world of terror. It can be said without exaggeration that the humanity of the human race was, and is, being preserved, saved, by woman—preserved not by words or ideas, but by her silent, caring, loving presence. And if, despite all the evil that dominates the world, the mysterious feast of life still continues, if it is still celebrated in a poverty-stricken room, at a barren table, just as joyously as in a palace, then the joy and light of this feast is in her, in woman, in her never-fading love and faithfulness” (Celebration of Faith: Sermons, vol. 2).

It pains me now to read: “what has remained unchanging…is the bright image of the woman.” Undoubtedly, what he says remains true in many instances. But this image of our final chance to save “the humanity of the human race,” of this last refuge of that sanity which is feminine and maternal love, has changed in recent decades, changed into something wholly unrecognizable as the image of “care, self-giving, love, compassion.”

Now this mutation of woman is not universal, nor can it ever be, but it has become widespread enough so as to change the face of modern Western society. The media listen to the loudest and most perverse voices, and they promote whatever political agenda will grease their palms most lucratively, so it is this desecrated image that is presented as the norm. I’m talking, of course, about the emergence of what is sometimes called “radical feminism.”

Many modern women do not want to be women anymore. They want to be men—not as innocent tomboys, but as fierce competitors. Yet in their misguided and strident efforts to do so, they become something that is neither man nor woman (I suppose some of them would actually prefer this). They have become the anti-icon of all the beauty, depth, and inner strength that Fr Schmemann mentioned above. These are the “un-women” that one author recently wrote about. Instead of the loyal and loving myrrh-bearers we now have phenomena such as “dykes on bikes” (a loose confederation of lesbian motorcycle gangs). While they may not be quite mainstream among feminists, they are the natural outcome of the aberration.

To be the ones that build and destroy civilizations, to be the ones that create a world of terror despite other successes—that is what they want. So now we have a new generation of economic, political, social, sexual, and even spiritual terrorists: the “liberated” women. The havoc than men have wreaked upon the world, their cold lust for power, domination, and wealth—the women now want a big piece of that same pie, while sacrificing everything within them that could soften the jagged edges of men’s brutal ambitions and spread more love, truth, and peace in the world.

Now that the un-women have been unleashed, they are free for unhindered self-advancement, free to kill their unwanted children, free to enter the same gladiatorial arena as men, free to throw off the yoke of Christ and his Church, free to become occult priestesses and co-presiders over the destruction of family and human sexuality. That is, they are free to enslave themselves with the chains of ungodly rage and selfish ambition as they strive to be more and more like the men they hate so much. They are, as our liturgy says about Judas, thieves whose custom it is to throw away what is most precious.

This is not the place to go into the complex arguments concerning the historically unfair treatment of women in various cultures, and their right to some form of adequate redress. There is a feminism that is good and healthy and that manifests hitherto unrecognized talents and gifts for the edification of society and church. Pope John Paul II has written eloquently and at length about the God-ordained dignity and charisms of women, and of the proper complementarity of the sexes. But this Christian feminism bears no resemblance to that promoted by the witches, baby-killers, and militant lesbians of our present out-of-control society.

Let us pray that woman can still be the hope of this world, will once again be a ceaseless spring flowing with pure love, compassion, creativity, courage, and wisdom—and of intercession for the healing of the aberrations of men, which have contributed so heavily to the disasters we see today. It is no wonder that a departure from the true meaning of the complementary equality of men and women (precisely as persons, not merely according to roles or functions) has produced the bizarre sexual sideshow that irrationally prides itself on being an evolved, multi-gendered subculture—one that wants to be recognized as normal and mainstream.

“Woman,” said the dying Savior, “behold your son.” That son was the beloved disciple, who represents all disciples of Christ, male and female. The Woman who is the universal Mother of the Church and of humanity must be our guide and model and protectress and intercessor as we try to restore balance to our sick culture. Through Mary may woman shine with the glory God has chosen uniquely for her, so that all humanity may find strength and joy in her “never-fading love and faithfulness.”

Do You Want to be Healed?

Jesus healed a paralytic on a Sabbath (John 5:1-17). It almost seems like He deliberately chose the Sabbath on which to work most of his miracles. He says that his Father continues to work, and so, as the Son, He continues to work as well. Even the Jews had to concede that, while God Himself rested on the seventh day and so established the Sabbath, He still gives birth and takes life and keeps the universe in good running order even on the Sabbath. So here Jesus is making an indirect claim to divinity. The claim wasn’t lost on the religious authorities, who then and there decided He should die for blasphemy.

But back to the paralytic. We have to make some spiritual applications to what we read here, if this is going to be anything more for us than an edifying story. First of all, let us look at all of the sick people in this account. “A multitude of invalids,” it says, were by the healing pool, “the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed.” What advantage do they have over most people today? They knew they were sick, and hence they sought healing from God. Most people today are more like those Laodiceans whom Jesus reproached in the Book of Revelation: “For you say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing’—not knowing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked” (3:17). The world is full of blind, lame, wretched people claiming their autonomy and indulging in their lusts, as if they were strong and healthy, as if a severe judgment were not awaiting them. The first step, then, toward healing is the awareness and admission that we are sick, abandoning our proud self-assessment and embracing the humility by which alone we can see the truth.

G.K. Chesterton was well aware of this. Once the London Times asked him to write an essay entitled, “What is Wrong with the World Today?” He sent them a very short one. It went like this: I am. Now there’s an honest man. What is wrong with the world today? You are. And I am. Anyone who commits sin is what is wrong with the world today, for sin produces only corruption, defilement, destruction, and unhappiness.

The paralytic in the Gospel is a rather unattractive character, and he did not learn the lessons that the Lord’s goodness should have inspired in him. The Lord asked him, “Do you want to be healed?” That question was rather unusual—and the answer should have been obvious—but since the Lord knew the man’s heart, He was aware that the man was not only physically lame, but that his heart had grown sour and bitter over the years. The man answered with a whining complaint. But Jesus in his mercy healed him anyway, though it became clear that while divine grace entered his body, the man resisted its entrance into his soul—unlike the other paralytic Jesus healed, whose sins were forgiven along with his bodily healing. So Jesus gave him a stern warning: “Sin no more, that nothing worse befall you.” This man is the only one who ever received this warning from Christ after having been healed.

The first level of healing was insufficient. We can take this to a spiritual level and look at our own lives. If we commit sin, we must go to confession in order to receive forgiveness. While this is necessary and indispensable, it is not enough. Forgiveness must be followed by a deep inner healing. In psalm 40(41), the psalmist does not say to God: “forgive me, for I have sinned against You,” but rather “heal my soul, for I have sinned against you.” Sin creates wounds and vulnerabilities in our souls. A bodily wound can be disinfected and stitched up, but it might take a long time before it is fully healed, and there may be a scar that never goes away. Forgiveness removes our guilt before God, but there is much work that needs to be done before our souls themselves are healed. We need to receive Holy Communion, to pray, to struggle against the temptations that we allowed to enter our souls previously—for every time we sin, we make it easier for the devil to walk that well-marked path into our souls. So we can’t just whine and complain to the Lord like the paralytic when He asks if we want to be healed. His question implies a lot. Do we want to do all that it takes to receive and maintain the health of our souls, to do the hard work of penance and self-denial and training our wills to do only what is pleasing to God? Be sure that if we persist in sin, something worse will befall us.

We can’t wait around for a miracle to happen, for an angel to appear in the troubled waters of our souls and make everything better without any serious effort of our own. We have to work with God; that is the meaning of synergy, the process by which divine grace, and human choice and effort, work together to produce the spiritual fruits that enable us to live in communion with God in this life as well as in the life to come.

So let us start by realizing our need for God, and not just in some general, abstract way: “Oh yes, since everyone needs God, I guess I must need Him too.” But really, feel and acknowledge your wounds, your emptiness, your sin-sickness, your spiritual paralysis. A perfunctory “Lord have mercy” is wholly inadequate. If there is no deep and sincere cry from your heart to the Physician of souls and bodies, you will remain in mediocrity and hence without the life-giving and transforming power of God, who makes all things new—for those who realize that all things within them must be made new, if they are to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Come to the chalice of spiritual healing, the Holy Eucharist, and begin anew the process of renewal of life. It’s not a quick fix, but part of the lifelong program for a complete healing of the soul—that you may get up and walk freely in the Spirit of the living God.

Give

No, this is not a solicitation for some charity (though we are required by the Gospel to help the poor in whatever way we can), but simply a law of life—a law that is human and divine, earthly and heavenly, temporal and eternal. Without giving there is no true living, so we must be aware that all who live by getting and having and hoarding and coveting (and selfishness in general) are not living true life at all.

I had occasion to apply this recently to prayer as well. I think we’re all aware of the call of the Gospel to deny ourselves, “to do good and to share what you have” (Heb. 13:16), and in general to realize that “it is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). But it seems that in prayer we may wish to receive more than to give, perhaps realizing that we have little to offer, and that God has the plenitude of grace. We ought, however, to see what we can give even here. Many people refuse to go to church because they “don’t get anything out of it.” My next question to them is usually, “But what do you give to it?” Even if, practically seen, there’s not a whole lot more than our time, attention, and the faith and love of our hearts that we can give, we ought to give it all. It seems that there’s a sort of two-way valve in our souls. In order for it to be open for us to receive, it also has to be open to give. If we try to set it so it will only receive, it will remain closed.

C.S. Lewis has a few things to say in The Problem of Pain about self-giving, and this is not (as you might think) in the chapters on suffering, but in the chapter on Heaven:

“All your life an unattainable ecstasy has hovered just beyond the grasp of your consciousness. The day is coming when you will wake to find, beyond all hope, that you have attained it, or else, that it was within your reach and you have lost it forever… The thing I am speaking of is not an experience. You have experienced only the want of it. The thing itself has never actually been embodied in any thought, or image, or emotion. Always it has summoned you out of yourself. And if you will not go out of yourself to follow it, if you sit down to brood on the desire and attempt to cherish it, the desire itself will evade you…

“The thing you long for summons you away from the self… this is the ultimate law—the seed dies to live, the bread must be cast upon the waters, he that loses his soul will save it. But the life of the seed, the finding of the bread, the recovery of the soul, are as real as the preliminary sacrifice…

“As to its fellow-creatures, each soul, we suppose, will be eternally engaged in giving away to all the rest that which it receives. And as to God, we must remember that the soul is but a hollow which God fills. Its union with God is, almost by definition, a continual self-abandonment—an opening, and unveiling, a surrender, of itself… For in self-giving, if anywhere, we touch a rhythm not only of all creation but of all being. For the Eternal Word also gives Himself in sacrifice; and that not only on Calvary… From before the foundation of the world He surrenders begotten Deity back to begetting Deity in obedience…

“From the highest to the lowest, self exists to be abdicated and, by that abdication, becomes the more truly self, to be thereupon yet the more abdicated, and so forever. This is not a heavenly law that we can escape by remaining earthly, nor an earthly law which we can escape by being saved. What is outside the system of self-giving is not earth, nor nature, nor ‘ordinary life,’ but simply and solely Hell… That fierce imprisonment in the self is but the obverse of the self-giving which is absolute reality…”

The mystery of human self-giving is based on the intra-trinitarian mystery of divine Self-giving, and is fulfilled ultimately in eternal union with God and will all other self-giving human beings. Hell is for those who are full of themselves, and themselves is all they will get for eternity. When you realize the glorious and supremely joyful alternative, you see clearly that to be full of oneself is Hell indeed.

We can only experience the joy and fulfillment of self-giving by actually doing it. That’s why Lewis says we can’t just sit around and think about Heaven or desire it. We have to go about the business of giving ourselves away in all the circumstances of life, of relationships with other people and with God. As George MacDonald says, to hear the call of Heaven is to be “haunted by the scent of unseen roses,” and this will keep us eager to do whatever it takes to finally awaken unto that unimaginable glory. It starts here, though, in daily faithfulness to Him who said, “Give, and it shall be given to you” (Luke 6:38).

God Resists the Proud

I mentioned a couple days ago that both St James and St Peter quote the text from Proverbs: “God resists [or opposes] the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” I thought that perhaps I should reflect on that, for though this seems self-evident, there may be more to it than we see at first glance.

I’ve said before that this is one of the most chilling texts in Scripture, that is, if we are among the proud (and if you think you’re not, by that very fact you are). For what more terrible thing can there be than for God to resist you? But are we speaking here only of the ultimate separation of the proud from the presence of God, or is the issue more subtle?

I had a dream the other night, of which I remember nothing except that (oddly enough) I was writing a poem. All that survived the return trip to consciousness was this:

Some people live
And some people die
Beneath the indifferent sky.

I was somewhat dismayed to discover this rather dark and faithless expression lurking in the labyrinthine corridors of my unconscious mind. But it is merely an all-too-human response to the unseen mysteries of life. I profess faith in God and all that He has revealed, yet if left to my own passions I would demand proof of them. This is a subtle (or perhaps not so subtle) form of pride. And God resists me in this. He is not going to prove anything to me, but is going to leave me free. I just read one author who said that the greatest act of human freedom is the act of faith. This is a rather complicated issue, but it should be at least fairly clear that the act of faith is, by definition, free, i.e., not forced by compelling evidence.

Many today who are champions of “freedom,” at the expense of moral and spiritual laws and obligations, actually make their choices under the strong compulsion of lust, greed, gluttony, self-interest and egoism. So they are hardly free. As for believers, there is much support for faith in our observations and experiences, but nothing like a mathematical proof. So to choose to believe is a free choice; we are not obliged to accept the claims of faith by sheer weight of evidence or by any internal or external compulsion.

The demand for proof is arrogant, and the Lord resists it. He resisted those who said to Him as He hung on the Cross: “Let him come down now from the cross and we will believe in him.” He did not come down, for He resists the proud and insists that our faith be free and not coerced by overwhelming miracles. We tend to be like those who also said to Him: “What sign do you perform, that we may see and believe in you?” (John 6:30). The Lord resisted requests for signs as proof of his claims, when He knew that those who asked were of bad will, were among the proud. His response? “No sign shall be given…” (Mark 8:12).

On the other hand, the Lord gives grace to the humble. Now the humble ones are not the self-denigrating, the lugubrious, the timid, the weak, or the gullible. Rather the humble are those who simply live in the truth—about themselves, about others, about God—and so live in peace, in evangelical childlikeness, and can more easily recognize the signs of God’s presence that He does in fact give to those who demand nothing. In a text that I’ve heard hundreds of times (it is one of the common readings in Vespers for the feast days of monks), I just realized recently that “those who trust Him will understand truth…” (Wisdom 3:9). To humbly trust without demanding signs and proofs will open our hearts and minds to what God wishes to reveal to us. It increases our capacity for truth, because humility is the virtue that most easily receives it.

So don’t set yourself up for resistance from God. He wants to give, but not as a response to our arrogant demands. He will give on his terms, so we are to make our acts of faith and trust with the freedom of the children of God—for God gives grace to the humble.

Escape!

We saw yesterday that God’s grace and our faith and virtue enable us to escape from the corruption of the world. St Peter told us that once we make our escape we are prepared to enter the Kingdom of God. But since he knows human nature all too well, he has to give us an additional warning.

“For if, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overpowered, the last state has become worse for them than the first. For it would have been better for them never to have known the way of righteousness than after knowing it to turn back from the holy commandment delivered to them” (2Peter 2:20-21). This is why he urged us earlier to confirm our call and election through steadfastness in virtue—for it is possible to lose it and then be worse off than ever. He then gives us a rather graphic quote from Proverbs to illustrate what falling away from righteousness means: “The dog turns back to his own vomit, and the sow is washed only to wallow in the mire.” I am reminded here of Jesus’ saying about the evil spirit that returns to its former dwelling with seven worse spirits, making the last state of the man worse than the first.

In an age when people only want to be assured that all their desires, preferences, and practices are approved by the “non-judgmental” God, and when almost any rejection of the Magisterium of the Church is applauded by the media, passages of Scripture like the one above can have little relevance. But we are not called to be “relevant” to the current corruption; rather, we are to escape it. So where do we go? To that South African bishop (Lord have mercy!) who just said, flying in the face of over 3000 years of tradition, “Moral injunctions do not help people”? (Evidently Moses and Jesus played no part in the formation of his opinions. Nor St Peter, who says of such men: “They promise freedom, but they themselves are slaves of corruption.”) No, we can only go to the word of God and the sacraments, and to those who uphold and promote the tradition and teachings of the Church.

Too many people do not take the word of God seriously enough. Nobody wants to be an unpopular prophet. They want to make compromises with the “world,” to accommodate the Gospel and the Church to today’s worldly trends. But St James, in his characteristic directness, says simply: “Whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (4:4). I used to think that St Peter’s long description (in 2Peter 2-3) of the deceivers and false prophets was a bit overdone, but no more. It is an accurate description of what we see in the world—and all too often among Christians, even their leaders—in our present time and society.

So what can he (or we) say in the face of the corruption and defilements of the world? Escape! You can’t literally leave the world, but you can escape its evil, its seductions, its propaganda and practices, by holding fast the word of God and choosing to live by the Gospel of Christ. For “the Lord knows how to rescue the godly” (2:9), and He will protect and assist all who do not compromise with the ways of the world. “Live for the rest of the time in the flesh no longer by human passions but by the will of God” (1Peter 4:2).

We must escape, spiritually seen, if we are to be saved. Within two verses the Apostle uses these words for what happens to those who don’t: they are overcome, enslaved, entangled, overpowered (2Peter 2:19-20). Choose the true liberty of the children of God over the false freedom the world offers. Escape from its defilements and look with hope to the Rescuer of the righteous, who expects (and enables) us to be faithful, come what may.

Supplement Your Faith

St James and St Peter have quite a bit in common. They were pals in the early days of the Church in Jerusalem, as we read in Acts. I’ve noted a couple of convergences in their epistles over the past few days, and there are still more, like their quoting this passage from Proverbs: “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6; 1Peter 5:5). Another agreement, in thought if not in exact words, is their mutual insistence upon the necessity of works along with faith. James is very explicit on the point (2:14-26), while Peter, though more subtle, is no less clear.

Because of St James’ insistence about this, Martin Luther attempted one of the most arrogant attacks on the word of God in history. He tried to remove the Letter of James from the canon of the Bible! He called it a “straw epistle.” Why? Because the inspired Apostle didn’t agree with Luther’s brand of theology or interpretation of St Paul! I’m sure glad that Luther didn’t get away with it, for then it would be open season on Scripture for anyone who wants to cut paper dolls out of the pages of the Bible, removing the parts that don’t agree with their own way of seeing things. We are not to judge Scripture, however, but rather be judged by it.

Here’s what St Peter says on the issue (I’ll include a fairly lengthy text so you have the context): First he says—and this is where we left off yesterday—that God “has granted to us his precious and very great promises, that through these you may escape from the corruption that is in the world because of passion, and become partakers of the divine nature. For this very reason make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these things are yours and abound, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For whoever lacks these things is blind and shortsighted and has forgotten that he was cleansed from his old sins. Therefore, brethren, be the more zealous to confirm your call and election, for if you do this you will never fall; so there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2Peter 1:4-11).

First of all, we see that God’s promises have a twofold intent: to help us escape the corruption of the world, so that we can partake of the divine nature by grace. “For this reason,” i.e., that we may escape corruption and partake of God, the Apostle says that faith is inadequate, so we are to “make every effort to supplement [our] faith with virtue…” He lists several here (both he and James are fond of steadfastness), culminating with love. Since he says that if we do this, our relationship with Christ will not be ineffectual or unfruitful, the clear implication is that if we don’t supplement our faith with virtue, we will be ineffectual and unfruitful—and we all know what Scripture says about the destiny of the unfruitful.

He presses the point home: if we don’t supplement our faith we are blind, shortsighted, forgetting the forgiveness of our sins, and hence without that rich provision for entry into the Kingdom of Christ that the Apostle urges us to secure.

I suppose I could have been much more concise by quoting St Paul, who says the same thing in a few words: “Faith works through love” (Galatians 5:6). Again, the clear implication is that without love, faith doesn’t work (he spells it out in 1Cor. 13:2). But I think it’s good to have St Peter expound on the topic a bit, for it is an important one.

Let us realize that our faith must be supplemented with virtue, and especially with love, if we are not to be unfruitful, blind, forgetful of God’s mercy, and hence without sure provision for entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven. We now have the means, says the Apostle, to escape the corruption of the world and to enter into a hitherto impossibly intimate relationship with God. For this reason, make every effort to supplement your faith… be zealous to confirm your call and election… for your entrance into the eternal Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Called to... Suffer

I think that most of us would probably have to admit that, even with the joyous inbreaking of Easter grace and glory, life on earth is more or less a continual Lent. I find that while Easter brings hope and the courage to persevere, it doesn’t fix all the problems and pains of our lives. On the level of the liturgical year, it seems to work better: we fast and struggle all during Lent, and then, behold, when Easter arrives we can eat freely, wear bright-colored vestments, and sing hymns of glory instead of penitence. The dark sorrows of Good Friday are swallowed up in the bright rejoicing of Easter Sunday.

But daily life is not like that. If you are suffering from say, cancer, on Good Friday, it will most likely still be there on Easter Sunday. The same can be said for any illness or the pains of any injury, whether physical or emotional. If you are an alcoholic during the sorrowful days of Holy Week, you will most likely still be one on the joyful day of Easter. Similarly, all the rest of the daily problems, frustrations, worries, responsibilities and difficulties will remain, and they are there waiting for you after you clean up the dishes from Easter dinner. (Nature is indifferent to the liturgical year as well. This year it was warm and sunny on Good Friday, and cold and rainy on Easter Sunday.)

What are we to make of this? It’s a point I’ve made before: we’re still living in the “not yet” of earthly exile. We’re not yet in Paradise, not yet dancing about in glorified bodies. The grace of Easter is a foretaste, not a fulfillment, the promise but not the reward. Yet our sufferings in this life are not random, meaningless, or fruitless. They are not something we are supposed to flee while marking time as we ever-so-slowly move toward the end of our exile. Why? Because we are called to suffer.

This is spelled out for us in the First Letter of Peter. He describes himself as “a witness of the sufferings of Christ as well as a partaker in the glory that is to be revealed” (5:1). A witness does not necessarily mean an eye-witness, but one who testifies. The apostles are all witnesses of the Resurrection, though no one saw it happen. But they testify to it because of what the risen Lord revealed to them. Note also that the glory that St Peter speaks of is to be revealed; it is not yet revealed, that is, fully manifested. At the same time—and here is one of the paradoxes of Christianity—he calls himself a partaker of this yet-to-be-manifested glory.

But on to suffering. No one likes to suffer or to be punished, even when he deserves it. We rail and rebel against it. But the Apostle shuts us up. He says not that we ought to pride ourselves on bearing our deserved punishments patiently—there’s no credit in that—but that we should bear undeserved sufferings patiently. “If, when you do right and suffer for it you take it patiently, you have God’s approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (2:20-21). This life is perpetual Lent and not perpetual Easter because we are called to follow in the footsteps of Christ in his sufferings. This also silences those superficial Christians who say that since Christ suffered for us, we are not supposed to suffer. That obviously contradicts the word of God. He suffered not only to take away our sins, but to leave us an example to follow.

Again, the Apostle reminds us of another difficult duty: to bless those who curse or hate us. “Do not return evil for evil, or reviling for reviling; but on the contrary, bless, for to this you have been called…” (3:9). When he counsels us to firmly resist the devil, he reminds us that “the same experience of suffering is required of your brotherhood throughout the world” (5:9). Therefore suffering in this world is not merely inevitable, it is required. But it is not without end, and the Lord will show us that He is risen indeed: “After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, establish, and strengthen you” (5:10).

So we see that the call to suffering is part of a double call, the other part being a call to “eternal glory in Christ.” You can’t choose one and reject the other. It’s all or nothing—though if you choose nothing instead of all, you’re going to suffer anyway, both here and hereafter, so you might as well accept and respond to the call to suffer in this life, keeping your heart set on the call to glory in the next.

We must realize that the primary mystery of this life is that of the Cross, and the primary mystery of the next life is the Resurrection. God in his mercy sweetens our exile with both the promise and the foretaste of future glory and joy—through the grace and beauty and love He allows us to experience even in this Valley of Tears. But let us not cling to the moments of joy and fear the times of suffering, for to suffering we have been called. If we accept and consider it precisely as a calling, one that will be fulfilled in the calling to everlasting life, we will count it all joy and become steadfast in our faith, as we await the full manifestation of God’s “precious and very great promises” (2Peter 1:4).