Fragments for Friday -- Toward Recovering a Genuine Christian Vocabulary

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

 

“He, the Mighty One, the Artificer of all, Himself prepared this body in the virgin as a temple for Himself, and took it for His very own, as the instrument through which He was known and in which He dwelt.” ~ Saint Athanasius the Great

Within the Church we have a biblical/theological vocabulary that is very expressive of what we believe as Christians. These words are drawn primarily from the Bible, the Ecumenical Councils, and the theological writings of the great Church Fathers, such as Saint Athanasius the Great, quoted above. As responsible, believing and practicing Christians, we need to know this vocabulary at least in its most basic forms. As we continually learn a new technology-driven vocabulary derived from computers to smart phones, so too we need to be alert to the traditional vocabulary of the Church as it has been sanctified over centuries of use. And this vocabulary should be natural to us – not something foreign, exotic and “only for theologians.” It does not take a great deal of effort to be theologically literate, and there is no excuse not to be. 

As we prepare to celebrate the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ, a key term that must be part of the vocabulary of all Orthodox Christians is Incarnation. The Nativity of Christ is the incarnation of the Son of God as Jesus of Nazareth. Or, we simply speak of The Incarnation, immediately knowing what that word is referring to. 

If we turn to the Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, we find the term defined somewhat blandly, in that kind of clipped, compact and objective style found in most dictionaries:

• in•car•na•tion \in-kär-`nā-shǝn\ n (14c) 1 a (1): the embodiment of a deity or spirit in some earthly form (2) cap: the union of the divinity with humanity in Jesus Christ.

In the Westminster Handbook to Patristic Theology, the Orthodox theologian, Father John McGuckin, begins his definition under a fairly long entry of this term as follows:

• Incarnation — Incarnation is the concept of the eternal Word of God (the Logos) “becoming flesh” within history for the salvation of the human race. Incarnation does not simply refer to the act itself (such as the conception of Jesus in the womb of the Virgin, or the event of Christmas); it stands more generally for the whole nexus of events in the life, teachings, sufferings, and glorification of the Lord, considered as the earthly, embodied activity of the Word [p. 180].

Speaking of expanding our theological vocabulary, we need to further know that we translate the key Greek term Logos as Word, referring of course to the Word of God Who was “with God” and Who “was God,” according to Saint John’s Gospel “in the beginning.” We also refer to the Word of God as the “Son,” “Wisdom,” and “Power” of God. It is this Logos/Word of God Who becomes incarnate as Jesus of Nazareth. The key verse that is the classical expression of the Incarnation in the New Testament is found in the Gospel according to Saint John 1:14: “And the Word (Logos) became flesh.” 

This profound paradox of the Word-become-flesh is found in the well-known Kontakion of the Nativity, written by St. Romanos the Melode. He begins his wonderful hymn with that paradox captured in the following manner: 

"Today the Virgin gives birth to the Transcendent One; and the earth offers a cave to the unapproachable One ..."

Incarnation is derived from the Latin word “in the flesh.” The Greek word for Incarnation would be sarkothenta, meaning “made flesh.” So the Incarnation of the Word of God is the “enfleshment” of the Word, and here “flesh” means the totality of our human nature. The Word has assumed our human nature and united it to Himself in an indissoluble union that restores the fellowship of God and humankind. The sacramental life of the Church is based on the Incarnation, and the potential for created reality to become a vehicle for spiritual reality. The ultimate manifestation of this is the Eucharist, and the bread and wine “becoming” the Body and Blood of Christ.

Christmas is the time of the year to recall all of this profound reality and recover a genuine Christian vocabulary that expresses our Faith about as well as that is humanly possible. This further means that theological words are not dry and abstract concepts when approached with not only respect, but with awe and wonder. This makes our reading and studying of our theological Tradition exciting – as well as humbling. The words reveal life-transforming truths that if received with prayer and thanksgiving enhance and expand our minds and hearts, so that we might have the “mind of Christ.”

Nativity Meditation from SVOTS

There are many purposes for presenting the genealogy of Jesus in the Gospels, chief among them which is the affirmation that Jesus, being in truth the Son of God, as all Gospels testify, has come “in the flesh” as a real human being.

…One other important point is made in listing the human generations which led to the birth of Jesus. This is the fact that God is faithful to his promises even though his chosen people are often not faithful.

Among the people from whom Jesus came are both sinners and heathens. In a word, Jesus comes not only from the righteous and holy, but from the wicked and sinful. And he comes not only from Jews, but from Gentiles.

+ Protopresbyter Thomas Hopko, The Winter Pascha

On the Veneration of the Theotokos -- Learning to Love the Mother of God

Source: legacyicons.com

As a follow-up to our zoom class on Monday evening, "The Orthodox Veneration of the Theotokos;" I asked two our parishioner who have been Orthodox long enough to absorb the Church's veneration of the Virgin Mary for at least a few years now, to respond with a reflection of their own about how they now perceive, acknowledge and venerate her. Here is the first one, written by Kevin Rains:

Learning to Love the Mother of God

I did not come to love Mary, the Theotokos (God-bearer) all at once.

As a Protestant, I was taught—sometimes subtly, sometimes directly—to keep my distance from Mary. She was honored as faithful and obedient, but always at arm’s length. The concern was understandable: guard the uniqueness of Christ, avoid anything that smelled like excess, keep devotion tethered tightly to Scripture. When I first encountered Orthodox Christianity, I brought that posture with me. I listened carefully. I watched for imbalance. I told myself I would follow the logic of the faith, but I would do so cautiously.

Mary was the slowest piece to fall into place.

At first, I encountered her primarily through liturgy and hymnography. She was everywhere—named, invoked, praised. That made me uneasy. Yet what surprised me was not what the Church said about her, but what it did not say. Christ was never displaced. The Gospel was never softened. Instead, Mary seemed to stand consistently in one place: pointing beyond herself, receiving rather than grasping, magnifying rather than competing.

The first real turning point for me came through a passage I thought I already understood.

In the Gospels, Jesus is told that His mother and brothers are standing outside, seeking Him. His response is startling:

“Who is My mother, or My brothers?”

And looking about at those who sat around Him, He said,

“Here are My mother and My brothers!

For whoever does the will of God is My brother and My sister and mother.”

(Mark 3:33–35; see also Matthew 12:46–50; Luke 8:19–21)

For most of my Protestant life, I heard this as a corrective - almost a rebuke. Jesus, I assumed, was relativizing Mary’s importance, moving the focus away from biology and toward spiritual obedience. And that is partly true. But what I had never considered is that this saying does not diminish Mary - it defines her.

Jesus is not saying, “Mary does not matter.”

He is saying, “This is why she matters.”

Of course, we honor Mary as the Theotokos because she bore the Word of God in her womb. Yet, she is equally honored 
because she embodies the very thing Jesus describes: the one who hears the word of God and does it. In Luke’s Gospel, this connection is made even more explicit. After the same episode, Jesus says:

“My mother and My brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

(Luke 8:21)

That verse became impossible for me to read in isolation from the Annunciation.

When the angel Gabriel announces God’s invitation to Mary, her response is neither passive nor coerced:

“Behold, the handmaid of the Lord;

let it be to me according to your word.”

(Luke 1:38)

Here is the fulfillment of Christ’s later teaching—spoken decades before He ever preached it. Mary hears the word of God, and she submits to it freely. She does not fully understand the cost. She does not control the outcome. But she consents. Voluntarily. Faithfully.

In that moment, Mary becomes both the Theotokos ("God-bearer") and the first disciple.

This realization changed everything for me. The question was no longer whether honoring Mary distracted from Christ. The question became whether my resistance to Mary was actually blinding me to something essential about discipleship itself. Mary is not an exception to Jesus’ teaching; she is its first and fullest example.

And this is where affection began to grow.

Orthodox devotion to the Theotokos is not about elevating Mary beyond humanity, but about showing what humanity looks like when it fully receives God’s grace. She does not seize authority. She receives a calling. She does not speak often in the Gospels, but when she does, her words are saturated with Scripture and trust (Luke 1:46–55). She stands at the foot of the Cross (John 19:25), not as a theological concept, but as a mother who remains faithful when everything appears lost.

As a Protestant, I was formed to think clearly, argue carefully, and guard doctrine faithfully. Orthodoxy did not take those things away. But devotion to the Theotokos revealed something I had not been trained to see as clearly: that obedience, humility, and love are not secondary virtues—they are the soil in which Christ is received.

I did not lose Christ by learning to love His mother.

I encountered Him more fully—incarnate, vulnerable, and real.

I came to the Theotokos cautiously.

I stay because Scripture, read patiently and lived deeply, led me there.

Kevin Rains

Nativity Meditation from SVOTS

Where there is abundance of tears, brethren, accompanied by true knowledge, there also shines the divine light. Where the light shines, there also all good gifts are bestowed and the seal of the Holy Spirit, from whom spring all the fruits of life, is implanted in the heart.

Here also the fruit of gentleness is borne for Christ, as well as “peace, mercy, compassion, kindness, goodness, faith, and self-control.” It is the source of the virtue of loving one’s enemies and praying for them (Mt. 5.44), of rejoicing in trials, of glorifying in tribulations (Rom. 5.3), of looking on the faults of others as if they were one’s own and lamenting them, and of laying down one’s life for the brethren with eagerness even unto death.

+ St. Symeon the New Theologian: The Discourses

Coffee with Sister Vassa -- SUNDAY of the FOREFATHERS / 3. ADVENT

 

“You did not worship the graven image, O thrice-blessed youths, but shielded by the ineffable Essence, you were glorified in your trial by fire. In the midst of the unbearable fire you called upon God, crying: ‘Hasten, O compassionate One, and in Your mercy, come to our aid, for You can do so if You will (яко можеши хотяй).’”(Kontakion of the Forefathers) This past weekend in New Calendar Orthodox churches it was the Sunday of the Forefathers, or all the ancestors of the Savior who lived in faithful anticipation of His coming, with special attention paid to the 3 Holy Youths in the furnace. And Western Christianity celebrated Third Advent or “Gaudete/Rejoice Sunday,” dedicated to the Joyof the upcoming birth of Christ in the flesh. The pink candle of the Advent-wreath was lit, and pink liturgical vestments were worn in Western churches. At the risk of saying a really girly thing, - I love that. I’m thinking both about the ‘trial by fire’ of the 3 Holy Youths, and about the Joy (with a big ‘J’) to which we are always called, even in our own fiery furnaces, in the words of St. Paul: “ Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Let your forbearance be known to all, for the Lord is near at hand; have no anxiety about anything...” (Philippians 4) It's not primarily a feeling, this Joy. It is a choice, just like faith is a choice. It’s a choice to be ‘in the Lord,’ rather than on one’s own or in one’s own head. It’s a counter-cultural choice, to be in Him, rather than be swept away into the hopelessness, anger, fear and the resulting idol-worship that might be sweeping up many in the fiery furnace of our world. Our Lord’s undying willingness to come into our furnace and help us, time and again, is also His choice. “ You can do so if You will,” say the faithful 3 Holy Youths in the above-quoted Kontakion-hymn. Let us dare to rejoice also today, dear friends, even if we find ourselves in a fiery furnace. ‘Come to our aid, because You can do so if You want,’ we say to our Lord, Who is coming, again and again, to maintain us and our world, through all of it. Because He can. Glory be to Him.

Happy Tuesday and ongoing Nativity Fast, dear Email-Subscribers! Please watch my NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO, on ‘Reclaiming Freedom as a Common Christian Value’ (on why ‘freedom ‘ is important; what challenges we face with the rise of authoritarianism in bot state and church contexts; what ‘obedience’ has to do with it, and so on - you will find it interesting!) at: https://youtu.be/AyLp5YFUpr4?si=syZl8skWy2c1Fp6f