What Role for Orthodoxy?

Dear Parish Faithful,

 "Today, in many parts of the very wealthy and comfortable West, there is such a profound loss of spiritual consciousness that the very semantics of the Spirit are unknown. When people came asking for spiritual advice Archimandrite Cleopa used to ask them back: What prayers  do you know by heart? What hymns from the writings of scripture or the fathers are you able to sing by heart? What habitual words do you use when you invoke the presence or the guidance of God in your lives? Often his visitors were hoping he might give then some weird and exotic "mystical" inner knowledge. But this is where he started." 

This insightful anecdote is taken from the final chapter of Fr. John McGuckin's latest book The Eastern Orthodox Church - A New History (p. 300). You may recall, that back in early September I wrote about this book in a very positive manner, promoting this new history of the Church to the parish. I was informed then that a few parishioners made the investment. I did not write a full book review, but simply offered some key excerpts from the book so that everyone could have a "taste" of Fr. John's exceptional presentation of the Church's ongoing history through the centuries. If anyone would like to go back to that earlier piece: https://orthodoxmeditations.blogspot.com/2020/09/a-new-book-waiting-to-be-read.html

This final chapter of his book is entitled, "What Role for Orthodoxy in a Postmodern Environment?" A fitting question, indeed, and Fr. John offers a sober assessment that avoids all of the triumphalism that usually descends into either bombast or unreality. But the very fact that Fr. John wisely eschews Orthodox triumphalism, makes his response to his own question all the more hopeful and uplifting. For he gets to the very heart of what the Orthodox Church continues to offer to a spiritually-thirsty world. Fr. John writes of "the ancient heritage of Christian wisdom, the Spirit-filled teaching of the Eastern Christian past," claiming that both Protestants and Roman Catholics will recognize "truly as their own," either the Christian East's "immediacy and simplicity" or its "richly Christocentric warmth." He then goes on to describe how Orthodoxy must keep this patristic spirit alive if a true witness will be effective:

"It is in the renewal of a new and deeper consciousness of Christ and his resurrectional presence among the faithful that all other renewal will flow out in the church: a renewal that will come in the fire and quality of the common liturgies, a renewal that will be powerful and fueled in the social and charitable outreach of the churches. Only after this sense of living in Christ has been renewed internally will the mission of the church be rendered actively reenergized once more. It is of no attraction whatsoever for any believers to offer to someone else what does not seem to illuminate their own hearts and minds with the radiant quality of beauty and freedom. Too often, in lieu of this, the Christian public mission has been characterized by fearfulness, cultic sectarianism, intellectual immaturity, and social hyper-conservatism. Why should we be surprised if this clammy handshake does not work?" (p. 301)

This leads Fr. John to this realistic question: "What can Orthodox Christian thought offer to the modern man and woman outside Christian culture, who would most probably find, looking in passing at an Orthodox service, something foreign?" After referring to the fact that "the divine Power and Word and Fire became personally incarnated within time and space: and our God was shown to us as a humble, suffering servant of mercy," Fr. John writes how Orthodoxy can lead us toward discovering our own humanity:

"The real problem today is not that men and women who have become secularized (nonreligious, or whatever) have lost the sense of God. The problem is that they have lost the sense of what it is to be truly human. The fundamental character of the true human being is the self-awareness that presses on all people that they are a transcendent reality, and as such, profoundly strange even to themselves...

In Orthodoxy, one learns from generations of wise and saintly teachers the knowledge that humility and love have been lifted up to divine status in Christ. This saves us: for our transcendence is rooted in the stability that our poverty has been made rich by God's love. The individual who serves to be the place of the indwelling of Christ, through the Spirit, is a person who can stand on the revolving planet without feeling dizzy: knowing why his place is both here and yet not here; and why it is true that we must 'cultivate the garden'; but not just the garden of our present culture and life, also the garden of our soul."

I find this to be an eloquent reminder in a time of political polarization, that it is not politics or politicians that we need to look at for our ultimate well-being. That Christians need not depend upon the support of secular institutions to "protect" Christianity and Christians.  If the spirit of freedom in Christ fills our hearts, we will recognize this and understand that it was "the divine Power and Word and Fire" that strengthened the early Church to withstand the persecution that they suffered from the powerful Roman Empire. And the same can be true for us today, no matter how secular or godless the world becomes.

Be that as it may, I want to share a well-known passage that Fr. John closes his study of Orthodox Church history with. These are the words of Fr. Lev Gillette, also known as "a monk of the Eastern Church." In defining the Orthodox Church, Fr. Lev stressed humility, love and prayer:

O strange Orthodox Church, so poor and weak, with neither the organization nor the culture of the West, staying afloat as if by a miracle in the face of so many trials, tribulations and struggles; a Church of contrasts, both traditional and so free, so archaic and so alive, so ritualist and so personally involved; a Church where the priceless pearl of the Gospel is assiduously preserved, sometimes under a layer of dust; a Church which in shadows and silence maintains above all the eternal values of purity, poverty, asceticism, humility and forgiveness; a Church which has often not known how to act, but which can sing of the joy of Pascha like no other. (p. 304)

 

A Radical Critique of Selfishness

Lazarus and the Rich Man

Dear Parish Faithful,

“And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature.”  (LK. 8:14)

There is an interior connection between the Parable of the Sower and the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man (LK. 16:19-31), heard yesterday at the Divine Liturgy.  For the “rich man” of the parable is the embodiment of a person who has been “choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life,” as described in the Parable of the Sower.  Brushing aside the teaching of the Torah, and the Jewish emphasis on charity as one of the great acts of true piety, the rich man remained coldly indifferent to poor Lazarus who was clearly visible at his very gate.  Preoccupied with fine linen and sumptuous feasting (v. 19), the rich man was scarcely prepared in his heart to alleviate the sufferings of Lazarus, sufferings that were exemplified by the dogs that licked his sores (v. 20).  Such indifference is frightening when seen in the light of the many scriptural admonitions that either chastise the neglect of the poor: “He who closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself cry out and not be heard;” or encourage his care: “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.” (PROV. 21:13; 19:17)  And the severity of the consequences of such neglect of the poor is vividly described in the parable’s “reversal of fortune,” with the rich man languishing in hades, unable to be relieved of his torment there. The contrast of his fate and that of Lazarus being carried into the “bosom of Abraham” by a heavenly escort is striking. (v. 22-23) 

The Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man was delivered with the Pharisees in mind, for right before Jesus proclaimed the parable, we hear this unflattering description of the Pharisees:  “The Pharisees who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they scoffed at him.  But he said to them, ‘You are those who justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts; for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God’.” (LK. 16:14-15)  Whatever or whoever may have prompted the words of the Lord during his ministry, our concern now is with our own attitude and treatment of the poor.  To think or believe otherwise is to fail to “hear” the parable as it is proclaimed today for our chastisement or encouragement. The words of the Lord – the “Gospel truth” – cannot be properly assessed within the narrow limits of any political allegiances – Democrat or Republican; nor even of a wider-scoped ideology – liberal or conservative.  The Gospel transcends these categories as something far greater and infinitely more demanding of our allegiance.  At a time when neither political parties nor even political ideologies existed or had any real impact on the prevailing cultural or social assumptions of the time, St. John Chrysostom (+407) delivered a series of brilliant homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man.  (These seven homilies now exist in English translation under the title on Wealth and Poverty).  With his impressive knowledge of the Scriptures; his unmatched rhetorical skills; but most importantly his profound zeal for the moral and ethical teaching of the Gospel; St. John offered a radical critique of selfishness and a radical exhortation to overcome such selfishness for the sake of the poor.  Challenging conventional notions of what theft is, he famously expanded its definition by meditating deeply on the parable at hand:

I shall bring you testimony from the divine Scriptures, saying that not only the theft of others’ goods but also the failure to share one’s own goods with others is theft and swindle and defraudation.  What is this testimony?  Accusing the  Jews by the prophet, God says, ‘The earth has brought forth her increase, and you have not brought forth your tithes; but the theft of the poor is in your houses.’ (MAL. 3:8-10)  Since you have not given the accustomed offering, He says, you have stolen the goods of the poor.  He says this to show the rich that they hold the goods of the poor even if they have inherited them from their fathers or no matter how they have gathered their wealth.  And elsewhere the Scripture says, ‘Deprive not the poor of his living.’ (SIR. 4:1)  To deprive is to take what belongs to another; for it is called deprivation when we take and keep what belongs to others.  By this we are taught that when we do not show mercy, we will be punished just like those who steal.  For our money is the Lord’s, however we may have gathered it.  If we provide for those in need, we shall obtain great plenty.  This is why God has allowed you to have more; not for you to waste on prostitutes, drink, food, expensive clothes, and all the other kinds of indulgence, but for you to distribute to those in need … If you are affluent, but spend more than you need, you will give an account of the funds which were entrusted to you … For you have obtained more than others have, and you have received it, not to spend it for yourself, but to become a good steward for others as well.  (On Wealth and Poverty, homily two)

This is a radical teaching, though again not based on any particular social or political philosophy.  For St. John the “true philosophy” was adherence to the Gospel.  St. John is primarily concerned with uncovering the meaning and implications of what we discover in the Scriptures.  If that is challenging to the point of seeming “impossible’” or of least taking us way out of our “comfort zones,” then rather than “soft-pedaling” the Gospel message, St. John would continue in the hope of inspiring us to strengthen our efforts and to put on “the mind of Christ.”

 

In an Honest and Good Heart

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

 

 

 

At the Divine Liturgy yesterday, we heard the Parable of the Sower (LK. 8:5-15). This could also be called the Parable of the Seed(s); or even a touch awkwardly, the Parable of the Fourfold Field. 

The reception of this parable and how it has been analyzed by biblical scholars, makes this parable a complex story in and of itself. However, we will remain on "good ground" if we simply "hear" the parable as interpreted by Christ for His disciples, as it has been consistently understood within the Church. 

Before coming to that, though, perhaps it would be wise to review the meaning and purpose of the parables of Christ. The prominent biblical scholar C. H. Dodd, defined the parable as "a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought" (The Parables of the Kingdom). 

In other words a story that will make us think, as in ponder or meditate. That is why we need "ears to hear;" otherwise the parable will "go through one ear and out the other," thus wasting an opportunity that the Lord has granted us to understand how His Kingdom is being presented to us as a gift. My own wonderful New Testament professor, Veselin Kesich, had this to say about parables in his book The Gospel Image of Christ:

The Old Testament records a few parables (II SAM. 12:1-4; I KG. 20:35-42; IS. 5:1-7). Jesus, however, brought this art to perfection. Differing from previous storytellers in his subject matter, Jesus revealed his own character in these parables. His purpose was to lead the hearer to him and to compel a response to his challenge. Parables are never told to amuse people; they are not merely interesting or entertaining. They are of a revelatory character.

The Hebrew and Aramaic words for parable are, respectively, mashal and mathla. Whatever the meaning - allegory, riddle, symbol, story - the parable is meant to challenge our way of thinking and "to compel a response" to the gift of the Kingdom of God as presented by Jesus. You cannot "walk away" from a parable of Christ's. Such indifference is a response of sorts, though not one pleasing to the Lord, one would imagine. And such a response makes one an "outsider" who will "see but not perceive, and ... indeed hear but not understand; lest ... you should turn again and be forgiven." Those on the "inside," as true disciples of Christ, have "been given the secret of the Kingdom of God" (MK. 4:11-12). It is a serious matter to come to church and listen to one of Christ's parables!

For those unable to be in church this past Sunday, and who have not yet turned to the appointed reading(?), the Parable of the Sower as recorded in the Gospel According to St. Luke, is as follows:

A sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell along the path, and was trodden under foot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on the rock; and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns; and the thorns grew with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew, and yielded a hundredfold. As he said this, he called out, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." (LK. 8:5-8) 

Since, in first century Palestine, the sowing preceded planting, the parable is a realistic story that would have highlighted the rich abundance of the seed that may have not seemed so promising because of the various soils it fell into - the trodden path, rocky ground, and the thorns. Thus, the Kingdom of God, though facing an unpromising beginning, will grow by God's grace regardless of any and all obstacles. However, the final admonition to careful listening tells us that we must probe deeper to understand the full implications of the parable. And Jesus will assist his disciples - and us today - by providing an explanation of the parable that reveals the parable's inner meaning:

Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy; but these have no root, they believe for a while and in time of temptation fall away.

And as for what fell among thorns, they are those who hear; but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares of life, and their fruit does not mature. And as for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bring forth fruit with patience. (LK. 8:11-15)

During His ministry Christ realized, as did many preachers of the word following Him, that many who heard His word - Jew and Gentile alike - would reject that word for various reasons. This was clearly the experience of Christ and His disciples/apostles. So the parable is not simply about the fate of the seed, or about the quality of the soil that it falls into. The parable is thus "symbolic" and prophetic because of its ultimate reference to the human rejection (or acceptance) of the proclamation of the Kingdom and the Gospel. This is a realistic assessment based upon the three sources of temptation inherent in the process of hearing the Word of God and reacting to it. Basically, these three sources of temptation are: the devil, persecution, and mammon.

We pray "and deliver us from the evil one." The "evil one" lurks behind temptation and abandonment to it. This does not relieve us of our responsibility by "blaming it on the devil," but rather alerts us to the need for vigilance. As our spiritual tradition makes quite clear, the evil one often works through such "passions" as: gluttony, lust, avarice, jealously, envy, anger, dejection, vanity and pride. As such, direct confrontation is unnecessary; or perhaps reserved for the great saints who take up that battle with utter seriousness, determination, and profound reliance upon the saving grace of God. Our "inner demons," multiplied and strengthened by our weaknesses and lack of faith, thus pluck the seed of God's word from our hearts as birds will pluck up loose seed on shallow ground. Distracted, enervated or consumed by our passions, the evil one, as an ever-present threat, can leave us with a heart empty of the saving seeds of the divine Sower. And as Christ warned, the horrific result can be unbelief and a loss of salvation.

"Indeed all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (II TIM. 3:12) When you think of the "world" as it is, obsessed with "the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" (I JN. 2:16), this has a certain inevitability to it. From the beginning, many followers of Christ have been persecuted, the great company of martyrs unto death itself. This is a severe test, and many have failed to make such a witness. It is hardly for us to judge, especially if we are incapable of holding up to even the slightest social pressure that will intimidate us into silence or inaction when our "witness" to being a Christian would make a significant impact. "I am a Christian" was the phrase always used by the martyrs to identify themselves, even though it would also serve them up a death sentence. Yet, would anyone feel that that would be an awkward form of self-identification today? Perhaps that can be re-phrased with the following question: "If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" If not, it would reveal that we have "no root" and the seed from the Sower was wasted. The Lord left us these encouraging words as He envisioned the fate of His followers to come: "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (MATT. 5:10).

Alas, who is not "choked by the cares of life?" In the versions of this parable found in the Gospels of Sts. Matthew and Mark, Jesus adds "and the delight of riches" (MATT. 13:22), "and the desire for other things" (MK. 4:19). So the "cares of life" should not be limited to the legitimate struggle for our "daily bread" and the protection and care of our families. Jesus is referring to that pervasive spirit of acquisitiveness that can never be satisfied. There is a wonderful 19th c.(?) aphorism that needs to be memorized: "Enough is a feast." And yet a contemporary distortion would say something like: "There is never enough!" There is an apocalyptic rock song from the 60s that says: "Nothing he's got he really needs!" No matter what we have, we need more of it - and then some more. How humiliating: either collectively or personally, we are the donkey doomed to trotting in a circle going nowhere with an inaccessible carrot dangling before our noses! There is never a shortage of contestants willing to line up for life's perennial "rat race." Has there ever been a "winner?" This insatiable demand for "riches" and "other things" only serves to "choke" the life out of the seeds of the divine Sower so that "their fruit does not mature." The Lord expressed this struggle perfectly with the well-known words: "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon" (MATT. 6:24).

And yet the parable is not only about the sadly inevitable reality that "many" will lose the seed-word of the Sower upon hearing it because of the evil one, persecution and mammon. Christ is telling us that despite that unholy triad of temptations, there will still be an abundant harvest that will yield a "hundredfold." In fact, that may be the most significant point about the parable. When we hear the Word of God, our concern is "hold it fast in an honest and good heart." This, in turn, will cultivate "fruit with patience." Every Liturgy presents us with the opportunity of "hearing" the living Word of God. If we have "ears to hear" the seed of the Sower will fall on "good soil." For those of us committed to Christ, God's grace will prove to be the moisture in the soil of our hearts, so we can fulfill these wonderful words of Christ about eventually yielding a hundredfold.  Let us keep our ears open to the Gospel so that hearing we may continue to believe and live accordingly.

Things Are Getting Scary

Dear Parish Faithful,

 

Politics are divisive, and that is eminently true this year as we approach the presidential election. There is even a sense of violence in the air. Of course, we condemn all violence, including the violence and looting that accompanied this last summer's massive peaceful protest demonstrations. Investigators are revealing that this unwanted violence came from both the "left" and from the "right." Yet, just last week we discovered ("in the nick of time?") an unprecedented conspiracy that changes the whole landscape of political discord surrounding us. And this, of course, was the arrest of members of a paramilitary group, described by authorities as "an anti-government, anti law-enforcement militia group." 

This group - The Wolverine Watchmen of Michigan - was seriously planning to kidnap the governor of Michigan, Gretchen Whitmer. The immediate motive appears to be a highly-radicalized reaction in protest of Michigan's coronarvirus lockdown initiated back in April and May. Once kidnapped, there was talk of putting Gov. Whitmer on "trial." We can only assume that the "jury" would deliver a "guilty" verdict. The plot seemed ill-conceived, even amateurish, but it was a serious plot that included an armed storming of the Michigan state capitol, and perhaps the detonation of a distracting bomb. There was even wild talk of starting a "civil war." I believe that six militia men directly involved in the plot, and another seven, some from the East coast, were arrested. Some of the planning actually occurred in Dublin, OH.

A poll taken three years back by YouGuv revealed that eight per cent of Americans stated that they approve of violence as a necessary tool for promoting a political agenda. The same poll recently increased that number to about sixteen per cent. Still a low, but dangerous number, considered our overall population. Our two most powerful law enforcement agencies, Homeland Security and the FBI, have both released studies that claim that the greatest threat of domestic violence in America for 2021 is emanating precisely from these types of nationalistic militia groups. Just how "patriotic" does that sound? The strange irony here is that in a post-9/11 world, we anticipated our greatest threat to be from international (Islamic) terrorism. But that has not really materialized. Something to think about.

We thank God that this latest threat was exposed before anyone was hurt. From some of my reading, other militia groups in America were shaken up by these arrests. Is it too much to hope that they "get the message?" Or, are we facing more of this "voting by violence?" Violence from the "right" of from the "left" must be rejected as unethical and unsupportable. We have to trust the democratic process of voting our approval or disapproval of a particular candidate, platform or party, in a peaceful, civil and dignified manner. I am not aware of a different approach that would resonate with our Christian faith.

++++++++++

 

On the subject of voting, the following statement is from Archbishop Paul. It is a balanced approach to voting in this year's polarizing presidential election, coming up in about three weeks time. This is not a dogmatic statement, and Archbishop Paul is not here "rightly defining the word of truth." It is basically an "opinion piece," but written from a Christian perspective - a perspective that does not absolutize politics and which calls for mutual tolerance and civility.


This is taken from the Midwest Diocesan Website. If you would like to visit there: https://www.midwestfamily.org/reflections/archbishop-pauls-reflections/voting-ones-conscience/


Fr. Steven


_____

Voting One’s Conscience

Everyone is free to vote for either candidate for President and for other items on this year’s ballot. A person’s vote seems to revolve around the policies each candidate puts forward during the campaign and the party platforms passed at each convention before the election. Everyone should vote according to each candidate’s policies and values that are consistent with their own values and beliefs. Some people may decide to vote based on where the candidates stand on the issue of sanctity of life. Others may base their vote on how the candidates stand on other issues. They may even decide to vote for a candidate that doesn’t support the overturn of Roe vs. Wade. Yet they still accept the Church’s teaching that abortion is a sin. No one should be condemned or harshly criticized for how they vote. One’s vote should be exercised freely. A person can share whom they voted for, but there is no need to make an overly public display of it.

When it comes to our kids, I do have one question to ask: Do schools still stage mock elections using a ballot of items to vote on? I think it would be a great idea if parents could sit down with their children who are capable of looking at a ballot and making a choice. If they are willing to share how they voted, parents can walk their children through each ballot item. They could help them to articulate why they voted the way they did. What did they consider in their decision? This is where the question might be asked, is the vote consistent with what the Church teaches? Is that a fair question to ask? Voting should not be based on how one feels.

The issue that concerns me the most today is the mutual intolerance that exists between our political parties. Stories are being put forward about what will happen if a certain candidate doesn’t win, causing confusion and worry. Cable news and social media outlets seem to fan these tensions with talks of mass protests and riots. This is a problem. We should do nothing in family life that encourages this kind of behavior. There is no room for intolerance and hatred in determining how a person votes. To act in this manner is contrary to our faith. Parents, do all you can to foster a sober and serious attitude with your children when it comes to voting. Voting is to be based on what someone thinks and not what they feel.

The blessing of the Lord be upon you,

Archbishop Paul

The Thundering Message

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

 

This coming Sunday, we will hear at the Liturgy the powerful account of Jesus raising from the dead the widow's son at Nain (LK. 7:11-16). This particular event is unique to St. Luke's Gospel. This meditation is meant to anticipate that dramatic reading so that we will be  "on the alert" to hear it proclaimed in church with some of the themes in mind. In his Commentary on the Gospel According to St. Luke, the biblical scholar Carroll Stuhlmueller, summarized the over-all impression left by this extraordinary event in the following manner: 

This incident, only in Luke, shows the Evangelist's special delight in portraying Jesus not only overwhelmed with pity at the sight of tragedy but also turning with kindly regard toward women (cf. 7:36-50; 10:38-42) ... This narrative possesses the charm, color, and pathos of an excellent story:  two large crowds meet, approaching from different directions; the silence with which Jesus touches the bier and stops the funeral procession; the thundering message, calmly spoken, bringing the dead back to life.  (The Jerome Biblical Commentary)

Truly, it is nothing less than a "thundering message" when Jesus said: "Young man, I say to you arise!"  (LK. 7:14).   And when the young man "sat up and began to speak" we should be able to understand, however dimly, the reaction of the crowd: "Fear seized them all; and they glorified God" (7:16).  The pathos of this story is further increased by the fact that the young man was "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow" (7:12).  There was no existing social safety net within first century Israel that would provide support for this woman.  Without a son who could help provide for her, this widow would have been totally dependent upon the good will and the charity of her neighbors in the small village that Nain was known to have been.  Hence, the power of the simple statement that accompanies the young man's restoration to life:  "And he gave him to his mother" (7:15).  What a reunion that must have been!  Now St. Luke makes it clear just who it was who encountered this funeral procession and dramatically brought it to a halt:  "And when the Lord who saw her he had compassion on her" (7:13).  It was "the Lord."  This was the first of many times throughout his Gospel that the Evangelist Luke will use this exalted title for Jesus.  The Greek ho Kyrios — the Lord — is the translation found in the Septuagint of the divine name Yahweh.  Ascribed to Jesus in the New Testament, this title reveals that as the Lord, Jesus has power over both life and death.  Anticipating his own resurrection from the dead, the Lord Jesus Christ brings this young man back to life, revealing that even death is not beyond His authority and capacity to give life.

We are not told how this young man died.  In our contemporary world, death can be more-or-less defined in a clinical manner.  The shift in this clinical definition has moved toward a final determination of "brain death."  Be it the cessation of breath, permanent "cardiac arrest," or the brain death just mentioned, we can identify death and its effect on our biological organism.  And so could anyone in the ancient world, where death was such a more immediate and "up close" reality compared to the rather antiseptic experience of death that we promote today in a attempt to distance the living from the dying as well as that is possible.  But as Christians, we certainly understand death in a way that moves far beyond its current clinical definition and determination.  That is because we understand life in such a way that the clinical is transcended by the mysterious:  "What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?" (PS. 8:4). Conversant with a biblical anthropology that refuses to limit a human person to his or hers biological functions, we perceive ourselves in a more complex and meaningful manner. 

There are many ways over the centuries that within our theological tradition we have elaborated on that inexhaustible biblical affirmation that we are created  "according to the image and likeness of God."  The Church Fathers will speak of the human person as a psychosomatic union of soul and body. Or, following the Apostle Paul of a union of spirit, soul and body. (I THESS. 5:23)  Because of some of the Greek philosophical connotations - primarily dualism - of using the terminology of soul and body, there has been a concerted movement within theological circles today to use the more biblically-based terms of "spirit and flesh" to describe the mystery of human personhood.  Whatever the exact terminology employed to describe the fullness of human existence, the essential point being made is that the human person is more - much more - than "what meets the eye."  We are even greater than the angels according to some of the Fathers, because we unite in our person the "spiritual" and  the "material" as the pinnacle of God's creative acts. We have our biological limitations, but we can still know the living God!  Even though we are so frail in our humanity, the psalmist can still exclaim in wonder:  "Yet you have made him little less than the angels, and you have crowned him with glory and honor" (PS. 8:5).

In describing the mystery of death as it pertains to all creatures, including human beings, the psalmist says (and we hear this at every Vespers service):  "When you take away their spirit, they die and return to their dust" (Ps. 104:29).  This is what happened to the young man from Nain regardless of whatever may have been the immediate cause of his death.  Something had happened that could not be fully described as merely brain death. His "spirit" had been taken away and his flesh was destined to return to the dust.  Another expression that became almost classical as a theological description of death - and which essentially means the same thing - is that of the "separation of soul and body."  

 

Either way, the wholeness and integrity of the human person is lost in death.  This is what renders death a tragedy and why the Apostle Paul can refer to death as "the last enemy." When the Lord brought this only son of his mother to life again, the spirit of the young man returned to his flesh - or the soul to his body - and he began to live again in the full meaning of that word.  Yet, this is not resurrection in the fullness of that word's meaning as we apply it to Christ:  "For we know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him" (ROM. 6:9).  The young man was resuscitated to life. He lived — and died — again, to then await the resurrection of the dead at the end of time, a resurrection prefigured and promised by the Lord's resurrection and victory over death.  The same can be said of the synagogue elder Jairus' daughter and, of course Lazarus, the friend of Christ who had been dead for four days.

We are told today that we are essentially a walking bag of chemicals with an evolved consciousness.  This further implies that at death this biological organism collapses, all consciousness is irreversibly lost, and that final oblivion is our common fate. The Scripture revelation that we accept as coming from God tells us something radically different.  To hear the Gospel is to fill us with the faith, hope and love that can only come from the living God.  It is to hear of a different destiny and one that makes life infinitely more meaningful and hopeful.  We too can cry out together with the crowd at Nain: "A great prophet has arisen among us!" and"God has visited his people!"  (LK. 7:16).  And living within the Church we know that this is the Lord who "shall come again with glory to judge the living and the dead; whose Kingdom shall have no end."