Meditations - Summer 2005
July 25: Nothing Ordinary Here
Dear Fathers, Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,
During these hot, languid and energy-depleting days of July, it is difficult to get excited about anything - including our life in the Church. Relief, refreshments and relaxation seem to energize us more than anything else as we contend with the heat. The liturgical calendar, with its absence of any major Feast Days of the Lord or Theotokos during July, appears to actively acquiesce to our human frailty with a series of seemingly "ordinary" Sundays that take us through the entire month.
And yet, is it appropriate to speak of an "ordinary" Sunday in the Church? Hardly, given the nature of each Sunday and the Eucharist which is at the heart of the Divine Liturgy. In the Orthodox Tradition, we number the Sundays following Pentecost throughout the course of the liturgical year until we again approach the lenten/paschal cycle. Yesterday, therefore, was the "Fifth Sunday after Pentecost." Relating all subsequent Sundays to the great day of Pentecost is a vivid reminder that the light and grace of the Holy Spirit illuminates and transforms all aspects of our ecclesial existence. The Holy Spirit seals and perfects every action and prayer of the Church. With the prayer of the epiclesis, the Holy Spirit descends "upon us and upon these Gifts here offered." The bread and wine of our offering are "changed" by the Holy Spirit. This sealing and perfecting action of the Holy Spirit fulfills the entire divine oikonomia.which is actualized at each and every celebration of the Divine Liturgy. The Liturgy is therefore the "remembrance" (here meaning the making present of) the "extraordinary" events that are the basis of our salvation. As the celebrant prays:
Nothing ordinary about any of this! The Divine Liturgy, like our Lord Jesus Christ "is the same yesterday, and today and for ever." (HEB. 13:8) The glorious, midnight paschal Liturgy and the Liturgy of a hot and humid July Sunday morning remain one and the same. Both call for our prayerful presence and preparation.
It is at the Liturgy that an assembly of "ordinary people" is revealed to have an extraordinary role in the world as " a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people." (I PET. 2:9) This is all related to the great anthropological affirmation of Holy Scripture that each and every human person is created according to the "image and likeness of God." There is one essential aspect of this truth that we may easily forget in a socially-stratified and economically- imbalanced world that actually has its roots in the world's fallen and sinful condition - the radicalequality of all human persons. Although socio-economic inequality remains at the heart of society and social relations, it must be overcome in the Church, for Christ has redeemed all equally. Chrstians united in Christ and partaking of the one, common chalice witness to the world that equality before the Lord that begins to heal divisions and distorted relationships. Yet, this is a hard struggle that demands vigilance. St. James was forced to deal with this issue with a prophetic directness in one of the early apostolic communities that we often like to idealize:
To ignore this admonition of St. James would be to undermine the integrity of our lliturgical assemblies, regardless of how beautifully the services are performed or how piously we may participate.
There are no "ordinary" Sundays within the ongoing life of the Church. Each is the celebration and actualization of the "extraordinary" events of the divine and saving oikonomia. At each Liturgy we reaffirm our "extraordinary" role as human persons made according the "image and likeness" of God, and thus loved and redeemed by the God who created us to become "partakers of the divine nature." (II PET. 1:4) And we take on the "extraordinary" responsibility to love one another and thus assist in healing the broken and divisive relationships that characterize the fallen world. This demands prayer, spiritual sobriety and vigilance; as well as faith, humility, patience and perseverance. But it also sounds extraordinarily exciting!
Fr. Steven
July 14: Spiritual Oasis in the Modern Desert
Dear Fathers, Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,
Our Mission Team recently returned from a visit to the Hogar Ragael Ayau Orphanage in Guatemala City. Once again, this proved to be a wonderful trip that accomplished its three major goals: the delivery of a substantial monetary donation supplemented by many vitally-needed materials; a great deal of maintenance work done on behalf of the orphanage; and a great deal of close and loving interaction with the children of an unforgettable and, perhaps, indescribable nature. These all-too-brief encounters with the children of the Hogar are nevertheless balanced by a kind of intensity that leaves a series of indelible - if not searing - images on the minds and hearts of all team members. Photos, although a pale copy of the original experience, become more than "snapshot memories," but a desperate attempt to retain a tangible expression of the unmistakable "flow of love" that enlivened those days spent together. As friendships and attachments with the children begin to form and deepen, the common refrain, "Is it already time to leave?' takes on something of the quality of a lament as the time to depart approaches. (The next most common refrain then becomes, "Will I be able to return one day?") When the children and Mission Team members line up for the rite of the "farewell hug" on the last day, many tears are openly shed within both lines! As in the past, the Hogar continues to remain an overwhelming experience.
Of the twelve members on our team, about one half of them were making their first visit to the Hogar. It is always fascinating to speak with first-time visitors to the Hogar and to hear their various attempts at describing its over-all "feel" or "atmosphere." Upon its initial mention, one such descriptive term that seems to receive general approbation is that of the Hogar as a "spiritual oasis" for the children. For those who seek crisp definitions, the Compact Oxford English Dictionary provides the following:
oasis - noun (pl. oases) 1 a fertile spot in a desert where water rises to ground level. 2 an area or period of calm in the midst of a difficult or hectic place or situation. - origin Greek, from Egyptian.
With the Hogar, this term can be understood both literally and metaphorically. As described before, the Hogar occupies a large square city block completely surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wall. There is a metal gate at the entrance controlled by the appointed security guards. Whatever the original intention and environment of the Hogar (it traces it origins to the 19th c.), today this "fortress-like" structure protects the children from the criminal and other threatening elements of Guatemala City's rough and tough zona 1 - clearly "a difficult or hectic place or situation" as defined above. What is of far greater significance is what is going on internally within the protective walls of the Hogar. If I recall correctly, I have written earlier and elsewhere that the Hogar is "an oasis of normalcy, sanity and basic decency" - even something of a "paradise" for these children from horrible and hellish backgrounds. And, if you will patiently allow me one more point of emphasis from past writings on the Hogar, I would like to re-emphasize the role of the Church in the process of healing these troubled children. (Another excellent description of the Hogar would be that of a "childrens' monastery"). The children of the Hogar are protected from the outside world for the purpose of being healed by Christ through the grace-filled life of the Church, especially through regular participation in the Holy Mysteries/Sacraments.
On one particular day, I was asked by Madre Ivonne to anoint all of the children. I visited various classrooms, the nursery, the infirmary and other places where the children were. They would all eagerly line up in anticipation of a practice that they were already quite familiar with. Later in the day, many of the younger children would approach me and smilingly point to their foreheards and the very spot on which they were anointed. This is more than just a "cute" anecdote," but rather an account indicative of the over-all atmosphere of the Hogar The Church is central, not peripheral, to the ongoing life of the Hogar. This is an "ecclesial orphanage," if I may also use that term.
Turning our attention beyond the enclosed space of the Hogar for the moment, or perhaps using it as a model, I would say that the image of a "spiritual oasis" can equally and as effectively describe the role of our parishes in today's world. In other words, our Orthodox Christian parishes can be experienced as spiritual oases within the superficial and spiritually-barren environment that threatens to reduce our moral, ethical, social and spiritual surroundings to something of a cultural "wasteland." Now, if that sounds too "negative" or bombastic - or simply like too much of a religiously-driven cliche - I would suggest taking a good, hard look at what is being offered as "food and drink" to our souls today. The non-nutritional fare of those over-sized "food courts" within our mega-malls that pass for "dining areas" today, only serves as representative of the less tangible, seemingly more cerebral, but equally toxic fare that is served up smilingly for our interior consumption. We may be temporarily entertained or distracted, but our minds and hearts will remain famished and hungering for something "other."
That "other" is present in our parishes like "a fertile spot in a desert where water rises." This is the living water of the Gospel. As Jesus said to the Samaritan woman:
The parish as a liturgical, scriptural, spiritual, artistic and social center is the sacred space of Christ's presence. It is where we are able to "worship the Father in spirit and truth." (JN. 4:23)That is its essential purpose for existence. It is where we abandon the superficial for the profound and the ephemeral for the eternal. The parish is an "oasis" of normalcy, sanity and basic decency in a world which has comfortably lost its sense of God. (I recall Fr. Thomas Hopko once saying that the Church is the place where you can maintain your sanity). To enter the church is not only to shut out the world, but also to enter into a foretaste of the Kingdom. The temple as a visible reminder of the Transcendent God is a challenge to the world's thorough secularization, if not godlessness. Every trip to the church reaffirms our witness to that truth.
It therefore remains a real "puzzlement" as to why many of our parishes remain relatively empty during the week. And that the week's "activities" do not have much of an impact on the over-all life of the parish - from Feast Days, to weekday Vespers, to parish Bible Studies. There is something more at work here than "busy schedules" and tired bodies. Are we being seduced by the world and thus reduced to the level of a "consumer" to the point where the church is just not that attractive? More bluntly: is it the church which appears as a "desert" to us while some other enticement seems like the "oasis?" Sounds like a mirage to me! Are our human resources of time and energy being spent elsewhere? Are we convinced that we are just fine with a Sunday-to-Sunday approach to our parish commitment? The image I use for this is the Church as "filling station." We "filll up" on Sunday and hope and pray that that will carry us through to next Sunday's "fill up!" The Eucharist, of course, can have that kind of effect for us, but why ignore the waters of our spiritual oasis when they are being offered at other times?
I have moved from the Hogar to the parish in this Meditation. Perhaps the experience of the one has led me to a greater appreciation of the other in our midst. Be that as it may, I am certain as to where Christ would direct anyone with the same question of the Samaritan woman: "Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw." (JN. 4:15)
Fr. Steven
July 6: The Comfort of the Saints
Dear Fathers, Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,
"It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." (HEB. 10:31)
For the last two Sundays, we have been commemorating, celebrating and contemplating the saints. First, the commemoration of All Saints, and then the more recent commemoration of the local saints of each local Church. Hence, our commemoration of the Saints of North America this past Sunday. This flows naturally from the Great Feast of Pentecost held three Sundays ago. For it is through the grace or deifying energy of the Holy Spirit, Who proceeds from the Father and is sent into the world by the risen and glorified Christ, that men, women and children are rendered 'holy.' Personal holiness is not self-generated, but is rather dependent upon the activity of divine grace as the gift of the Holy Spirit. This perceived blow to human pride is the source of our humility before the face of the living God, the One to Whom we chant: 'Holy is the Lord our God!' and 'One is Holy. One is the Lord Jesus Christ, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.'
For this meditation, I I would simply like to summarize and supplement a few things touched upon in the homily on Sunday. For many were absent due to the holiday weekend.
In a wonderful intercessory prayer offered up to God following the consecration of the bread and wine of our offering into the Body and Blood of Christ, we hear the following:
This culminates in the following remembrance that leads to 'The Hymn to the Theotokos:'
Although not exhaustive, these are some of the 'types' of saints within the ongoing life of the Church, the Theotokos standing out among them all. This diversity of vocation is nevertheless expressive of a unity of mind and heart. The saints were fully and totally obedient to the living Tradition of the Church - scriptural, dogmatic, liturgical, etc. The Church was their 'home' and their 'family,' and they joyfully breathed in this grace-filled atmosphere that enlivened their entire organism - both soul and body. As such, the saints did not fear ridicule, rejection, marginalization, scorn, persecution or even death. They only feared God. Their passion was to serve God and not simply to protect the 'self.' This enabled them to courageously withstand these very real dangers that we flee from as from fire. Or, as we read in the Epistle to the Hebrews:
Others suffered mocking and scourging, and even chains and imprisonment.
Their endurance of such calamities was the testing and trying that led to their eventual glorification, if not in their own lifetimes and from among their contemporaries, then from later generations when their true sanctity was revealed to the Church.
In our approach the saints, it seems that we need to combine veneration with emulation. Otherwise, we would be paying mere 'lip service' to the saints, from shaping empty words in their honor, to the empty gesture of lifelessly kissing their icons. Perhaps we have hidden fears and anxieties that we need to explore and confess before we can begin to pray, fast, and give alms as did the great saints of the Church. If we cling to the 'self' then we cannot cling to God - and embrace the neighbor. In fact, one description of sanctity could be the movement away from an egocentric to a Theocentric mode of existence. This is a hard and painful effort, but worthy of a meaningful life.
Foreign to the saints, but very much a part of contemporary religious discourse, is the spiritually-fatal search for a 'comfort zone' in our relationship to God and the Church. As in, for example: "I am 'comfortable' with Communion, but not with fasting or confession." (Many of the faithful are not even 'comfortable' with Great Vespers!) This may somehow work at the buffet table, in our choice of vacation spots, or even in the company we choose - but not in our lives in the Church. In the moral/ascetical/mystical life of the Church the only zone is the 'God zone' - and "our God is a consuming fire." (HEB. 11:29) There is no such thing as a 'comfort zone' in genuine Orthodox Christianity. It does not and cannot exist, because we believe in "Jesus Christ and him crucified." (I COR. 2:2) Christ did not endure the discomfort of the Cross so that we could then be comfortable! The very categories of comfort/discomfort are basically incoherent when applied to Christ and the saints.
Any attempt to stay within a religious/spiritual 'comfort zone' is ill-advised and ill-directed. It will lead to ... well, comfort ... but not to Christ. If we approach the Church as a place where we can carve out our own comfortable spot and remain there, then the Church will always remain foreign territory, and not a home and a family as for the saints. 'Comfort zone Christianity' is an abstraction that may fulfull certain of our psychological, emotional or even material needs. But it will not satisfy our thirst for the living God Who is constantly challenging us to precisely abandon our spiritual, mental and material comfort zones by adhering to the demands of the Gospel:
Better to admit our failings before the real Gospel, rather than claim 'success' before a false Gospel.
And yet God ceaselessly comforts us! In the Scriptures, we read:
No one can 'comfort' us as God - neither father or mother, wife or children, brothers or sisters. This is the teaching of Christ. A 'hard saying' indeed, but a truth that leads to life eternal if embraced with trust and obedience. When we put aside all the false comforts of this world and the deceptive notion of a 'comfort zone' in relationship to God, then we can begin that 'turning' that we call repentance and which can lead us to Christ in the grace and power of the Holy Spirit.
Fr. Steven