Coffee With Sister Vassa: FOLLOWING CHRIST vs. FOLLOWING RULES

 

FOLLOWING CHRIST vs. FOLLOWING RULES

“And you, being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, he has made alive together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses, having wiped out the handwriting of requirements that was against us, which was contrary to us (ὑπεναντίον ἡμῖν). And he has taken it out of the way (ἦρκεν ἐκ τοῦ μέσου), having nailed it to the cross. Having disarmed principalities and powers, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it. So let no one judge you in food or in drink, or regarding a festival or a new moon or sabbaths, which are a shadow of things to come, but the substance/body is of Christ (τὸ δὲ σῶμα τοῦ Χριστοῦ).” (Col 2: 13-17)

The “substance“ of the Old-Testament Law, that is to say, its whole point, was embodied in the human-divine Person of Jesus Christ. That’s why we are no longer obliged to fulfil the external requirements of the Old Testament, like that of the Sabbath-commandment. The “old” Covenant between God and His people, expressed in us fulfilling requirements of the Law, was superseded by the establishment, by His Son, of the New Covenant“of His blood“ (cf. Mt 26: 28), of the incarnate God-Man, which we participate in, rather than fulfil, “with him.“ 

We participate in this Covenant, in communion with Him, being “made alive together with him.” Because He became one of us, in His incarnation, we are invited to become one of His, and to change focus, from following rules to following Him. Here we have Someone “greater than the temple” (Mt 12: 6), and “Lord of the Sabbath” (Mt 12: 8), Who has already met all conceivable “requirements,” and overcome all our fallings-short of them, in Himself. 

In the Spirit of Christ, we are invited to focus primarily on communion with Him, and the kind of “sabbath” or “rest” He brings us, and also to our external behaviour, with and in Him, – not only on Saturdays, but every day:“Come to me,” Christ says to us, “all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Mt 11: 28-29)

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Last Sunday, I tried to outline a general approach that we, as Orthodox Christians,  take to the Old Testament. Sister Vassa touches on further elements briefly in her reflection this morning. We are to seek the "spirit" of the scriptural word, more than strict adherence to the "law," to add another generalization. Communionis a greater goal than (mere) observance.

Image of a True Disciple: The Gadarene Demoniac

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

One of the most challenging narratives in the Gospels has to be the healing of the Gadarene demoniac (Mk. 5:1-20; MATT. 8:28-34; LK. 8:26-39). This dramatic event which reveals the power of Christ over the demons will appear to the 21st c. mind as either archaic or even primitive. We may listen with respect and sing "Glory to Thee, O Lord, glory to Thee!" upon the completion of the reading, but "wrapping our minds" around such a narrative may leave us baffled if not shaking our heads. The spectacle of a man possessed by many demons, homeless and naked, living among the tombs, chained so as to contain his self-destructive behavior is, to state the obvious, not exactly a sight that we encounter with any regularity. (Although we should acknowledge that behind the walls of certain institutions, we could witness to this day some horrible scenes of irrational and frightening behavior from profoundly troubled and suffering human beings). Add to this a herd of swine blindly rushing over a steep bank and into a lake to be drowned, and we must further recognize the strangeness of this event. This is all-together not a part of our world!

Yet, there is no reason to doubt the veracity of the narrated event, which does appear in three of the Gospels, though with different emphases and details - in fact there are two demoniacs in St. Matthew's telling of the story! It is always instructive to compare the written account of a particular event or body of teaching when found in more than one Gospel. This will cure us of the illusion of a wooden literalism as we will discover how the four evangelists will present their gathered material from the ministry of Jesus in somewhat different forms. As to the Gadarene demoniac, here was an event within the ministry of Christ that must have left a very strong impression upon the early Church as it was shaping its oral traditions into written traditions that would eventually come together in the canonical Gospels. This event was a powerful confirmation of the Lord's encounter and conflict with, and victory over, the "evil one." The final and ultimate consequence of that victory will be revealed in the Cross and Resurrection.

Whatever our immediate reaction to this passage - proclaimed last Sunday during the Liturgy from the Gospel According to St. Luke (8:26-39) - I believe that we can recognize behind the dramatic details the disintegration of a human personality under the influence of the evil one, and the reintegration of the same man's personhood when healed by Christ. Here was a man that was losing his identity to a process that was undermining the integrity of his humanity and leading to physical harm and psychic fragmentation. I am not in the process of offering a psychological analysis of the Gadarene demoniac because, 1) I am ill-equipped to do so; and 2) I do not believe that we can "reduce" his horrible condition to psychological analysis. We are dealing with the mysterious presence of personified evil and the horrific effects of that demonic presence which we accept as an essential element of the authentic Gospel Tradition. The final detail that indicates this possessed man's loss of personhood is revealed in the dialogue between himself and Jesus:

Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. (8:30)

To be named in the Bible is to receive a definite and irreducible identity as a person. It is to be "someone" created in the "image and likeness of God." It is the role of the evil one to be a force of disintegration. The "legion" inhabiting the man reveals the loss of his uniqueness, and the fragmentation of his personality. Such a distorted personality can no longer have a "home," which is indicative of our relational capacity as human beings, as it is indicative of stability and a "groundedness" in everyday reality. The poor man is driven into the desert, biblically the abode of demons. Once again, we may stress the dramatic quality of this presentation of a person driven to such a state, but would we argue against this very presentation as false when we think of the level of distortion that accompanies any form of an "alliance" with evil -whether "voluntary or involuntary?" Does anyone remain whole and well-balanced under the influence of evil? Or do we rather not experience or witness a drift toward the "abyss"?

Then we hear a splendid description of the man when he is healed by Christ! For we hear the following once the demons left him and entered into the herd of swine and self-destructed (the ultimate end of all personal manifestations of evil?):

Then the people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. (8:35)

"Sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind." This is clearly one of the most beautiful descriptions of a Christian who remains as a true disciple of the Master. This is the baptized person who is clothed in a "garment of salvation" and who is reoriented toward Christ, the "Sun of Righteousness." The image here is of total reintegration, of the establishment of a relationship with Christ that restores integrity and wholeness to human life. Also an image of peacefulness and contentment. Our goal is life is to "get our mind right" which describes repentance or that "change of mind" that heals all internal divisions of the mind and heart as it restores our relationship with others. Jesus commands the man "to return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you" (8:39). We, too, have been freed from the evil one "and all his angels and all his pride" in baptism. In our own way, perhaps we too can also proclaim just how much Jesus has done for us.

The healing of the Gadarene demoniac is a challenging narrative, indeed. Yet, even for us in the 21st c. it is an episode in which the Gospel is proclaimed: The "Good News: of the victory of Christ over the "evil one!"

Coffee With Sister Vassa: THE VIRTUE OF SAYING “NO“

 

Coffee With Sister Vassa

THE VIRTUE OF SAYING “NO“

“He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the humble…” (Lk 1:52, The Song of the Theotokos)

This day, October 28, is celebrated in Greece both as the church-feast of the Protection of the Theotokos and as “Ohi Day” (meaning, the Day of “No”), in remembrance of the moment when the then prime minister of Greece, Ioannis Metaxas, and the Greek people said “No” to collaborating with the fascist and Nazi forces of Italy and Germany in World War II. After Metaxas refused an ultimatum to let the Axis forces enter Greece’s border on October 28, 1940, the Greek people came out on the streets, shouting “Ohi!” or “No!,” in support of Metaxas’s refusal of the fascist ultimatum. This marked the beginning of Greece’s heroic resistance to Hitler and Mussolini in WWII.

While the feast of the Protection of the Theotokos is celebrated in not-Greek Orthodox Churches on October 1/14, it was transferred in the Greek church-calendar to October 28th (Ohi Day) in 1952, to commemorate the great help and protection of the Theotokos, especially to the Greek resistance to fascism during WWII, at which time many of her miracles were reported. 

Though my Russian Orthodox Church does not celebrate the feast of the Protection today, I think it’s encouraging for all of us within the Orthodox communion of churches that we have a local Church, the Church of Greece, that celebrates this feast in connection with saying “No!” to fascism. We usually associate the Theotokos with her “Let it be,” or her saying “Yes,” to the Archangel’s news. But her “Yes,” like any choice we make for a certain decision, meant saying “No” to other options. God Himself also makes such choices, saying either Yes or No to this or that person or people, as the Theotokos notes in the above-quoted verse of her Song: “He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the humble…” 

Today let me remember the importance of saying “No,” when I need to, both in personal matters and political ones. The Mother of God chose to say “Yes” to her vocation, as did the Wise Men, who followed the star to Bethlehem. This involved saying “No” to political and religious authorities of the time, Herod and the chief priests he consulted, and led to lots of personal and political trouble, including the flight of the Theotokos and her Child to Egypt and the slaughter of the infants in Bethlehem. And this was just the beginning of the trouble caused by the One Who “put down the mighty from their thrones,” and also “exalted the humble,” who said No to the mighty on the thrones. 

Let us be encouraged today, and not forget the heroic No’s of faithful Christians throughout history, even as we might be confronted with bullies or tyrants in our personal or political or church-lives. Lord, by the prayers of the Theotokos, help us say “No” to the bullies, so that we may follow You in the freedom of Your Spirit. Happy Ohi Day!

____

How encouraging to read Sister Vassa's reflection this morning about saying "NO" to fascism! A proud moment from the past for the Greek people who resisted the authoritarian abuse of such infamous failed tyrants like Mussolini and Hitler. And her added encouragement to stand up to "bullies and tyrants in our personal or political or church-lives" is a powerful message. But saying "NO" is only the first step, which must be followed by the next step of saying "Yes" to the Gospel that reveals the real power of love and compassion, as expressed by our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Coffee With Sister Vassa: WE ALL “BELONG”

 

Coffee With Sister Vassa

WE ALL “BELONG”

“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all immersed / baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were given to drink of one Spirit. For the body does not consist of one member but of many.” (1 Cor 12: 12-14)

The Body of Christ, the Church, is among other things God’s answer to our human need to “belong.” And yet it seems that it is in the Church, both in our time and in St. Paul’s time, (which is why he writes the assurances he does above), that many of us, at least from time to time, quite easily come to feel that we do “not” belong. Why? As fas as I’ve observed, it’s usually because of our temporal, merely-human distinctions from one another, – of nationality or ethnic background (e.g., non-Greeks or non-Russians might at times feel alienated in a Greek or Russian parish), or of marital status (e.g., single or divorced people might feel like outsiders in a parish made up predominantly of families), or of gender or education (e.g., women, particularly highly-educated women, might feel superfluous in certain parishes), or of age (e.g., a young person might feel out-of-place within an older church-community), or of the pastoral “style” and insensitivities of our parish-priest to all-of-the-above.

But we do “belong,” St. Paul reminds us, – “all” of us, – in any parish, and regardless of all-of-the-above. How? “By one Spirit,” and by “drinking of one Spirit.” He is the basis of our unity, not only on Sundays, but every day, – unless we rely on something or someone else as the foundation of “us.” So if I find myself feeling like I don’t belong today, even perhaps amidst the hustle-and-bustle of church-related work, let me rush back to the Source of Oneness in this world, and the source of the gentle vision that is humility. “Our Father,” I say this morning as our Lord taught us to, “Thy will be done” with all of us today, as You see fit. And thank You for all of us.

____

A parish community cannot begin to flourish without a genuine and sincere sense of openness to each and every person that desires to be a living member of such a community. The great strength of the Church is precisely found in breaking down the prejudices that belong to society: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus." (Gal. 3:28) To further create that sense of openness, Orthodoxy in North America must move beyond ethnic and language barriers that could have the result of creating an uneasiness of not "belonging" for some people as outlined by Sister Vassa above. It is only the 21st century!

The Witness of Yuliya Navalnaya

 

Source: archons.org

Athenagoras Human Rights Award Recipient Yulia Navalnaya Featured on 60 Minutes As Her Martyred Husband’s Prison Memoir is Published

The Ecumenical Patriarch, Bartholomew, through the Archons within the Greek Archdiocese of North America, recognized the heroism of Yulia Navalnaya, widow of the martyred anti-Putin dissident (and Orthodox Christian) Alexei Navalnyi. She continues to support whatever opposition is possible against the very undemocratic and authoritarian regime of Vladimir Putin in Russia. This means that her life is also in danger. Yulia Navalnaya was also featured on the CBS program, 60 Minutes, just this last Sunday. It is about a 13 minute segment, and I have provided a link below. It is definitely worth watching (though the commercials are more than a bit irritating). 

https://www.cbs.com/shows/video/WBLkrK7nPB9lFb_dzcWV0HCA0Y8Ft237/

The Russian Orthodox Church has done nothing to honor or remember the great sacrifice of one of its own members. In fact, they ignored his death when it occurred, and Navalnyi was barely able to be honored with an Orthodox funeral. Further, a Russian Orthodox priest who held a Memorial Service for him was banished into exile from his parish. This is the price that the Church must pay for aligning itself with such a repressive and authoritarian regime. This brings shame, not glory to the Church. 

It is disappointing that the Orthodox Church in America did not openly acknowledge the witness of Alexey Navalnyi at the time of his martyric death; nor has it honored Yulia Navalnaya, or at least recognize her brave witness to the world, in any discernible public manner. A little show of courage in supporting public figures of deep moral integrity would go a long way in strengthening the Church's moral witness to the world. 

Comparisons Between II Corinthians and the Liturgy

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

Comparisons Between II Corinthians and the Liturgy

At Sunday's Liturgy, I drew attention in the homily to three particular passages in II Corinthians that have now entered into our liturgical prayer, since that is the Epistle that is currently prescribed on Sundays. These are now scriptural texts that we are familiar with through hearing and praying them with such regularity. Yet, this is only a small fraction of the scriptural texts that have been absorbed into the Liturgy and other services of the Church. In fact, according to Met. Kallistos Ware in his book The Orthodox Church: " ... the whole text of each service is shot through with Biblical language, and it has been calculated that the Liturgy contains 98 quotations from the Old Testament and 114 from the new." Thus, in the Liturgy, we "pray the Scriptures."

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II Cor. 5:10 – “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense, according to what he did in the body, whether good or evil.” 

Liturgy (Litany of Fervent Supplication) – A Christian ending to our life: painless, blameless, and peaceful; and a good defense before the dread judgment seat of Christ …

II Cor. 7:1 – “Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of flesh and spirit, making holiness perfect in the fear of God.”

Liturgy (Second Prayer of the Faithful) – … Thou would cleanse our souls and bodies from all defilement of flesh and spirit …

II Cor 13:13 - “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

Liturgy (The Anaphora) – The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

__________

II Cor. 3:18 – “All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

“One ought not then to be distressed when one considers this tendency in our nature; rather let us change in such a way that we may constantly evolve towards what is better, being transformed from glory to glory, and thus always improving and ever becoming more perfect by daily growth, and never arriving at any limit of perfection. For that perfection consists in our never stopping in our growth in good, never circumscribing our perfection by any limitation.”

St. Gregory of Nyssa On Perfection

The Rich Man and Lazarus

Encountering Lazarus

*For three consecutive Sundays, we always have the so-called "Lazarus Basket" by the Cross once we read the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. For those who are new to the parish, perhaps this older meditation may be helpful in explaining the meaning and purpose of that basket.

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

At the Divine Liturgy yesterday morning, we heard the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man (LK. 16:19-31). A wonderful parable, indeed, but a frightening one as Christ describes the torments of Hades/Hell for those who refuse to practice charity in this life. The "rich man" dressed well and ate well, according to the parable (16:19). But yet he ignored Lazarus who lay outside his gate (on a daily basis?). Lazarus, of course, was not only poor, but he was "full of sores," and seemingly at a near-starvation level, because he would have been content with whatever "fell from the rich man's table" (16:20-21). 

Upon their respective deaths, there was a staggering "reversal of fortune." Lazarus "was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom" (16:22); but the nameless (not an insignificant detail) rich man was delivered to Hades, the shadowy realm of death where the presence of God cannot be enjoyed. Conscious and tormented by his condition, and reminded by the Lord that his indifference to Lazarus put him there: "Son, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things" (16:25), the rich man languishes in agony and regret. And it is too late to repent so that he can come over to the bosom of Abraham, a clear image of paradise: "between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us." (16: 26)

It is difficult to determine just how much in a parable can be applied in a doctrinal manner to the mystery of the judgment and the world to come; but nevertheless this parable should have our undivided attention when it comes to our charitable side when contemplating our impending judgment. (There is, of course, the Parable of the Last Judgment in MATT. 25:31-46, read right before the beginnng of Great Lent). We may read the parable as a warning or as an encouragement, but the lesson remains the same. A lack of charity among those who have the means to practice it, reveals an indifference that leaves one unprepared for the joy of God's presence in the age to come.

We hardly encounter a Lazarus type in our everyday lives. We are protected from such encounters. The appeal to our charitable side comes through less direct sources - the mail, audio communication, word-of-mouth, but also in our churches. We periodically have collections for the poor and needy, for victims of natural disasters and the like. This appeal is usually in the form of a basket that is placed by the Cross, so that after the Liturgy, we may come forward, kiss the Cross, and place our contribution in the basket. 

Here, then, is how I see this parable being actualized - made present - in our own lives, at least periodically. The basket, or basket-holder, represents Lazarus, and each one of us represents the rich man. When we go by the basket, we go right past Lazarus. Do we stop and attend to the needs of Lazarus, or do we pass him by as did the rich man? The description of being "rich" is quite relative, for we are all well-clothed and well-fed as was the rich man. We can always put "something' in the basket (beyond what would honestly be deemed a mere token gesture). The right question, therefore, is not: "Can I afford to put something in the basket?" It is: "Can I afford not to put something in the basket in the light of Christ's parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man?" Or, is it possible to kiss the Cross of our Savior, and then walk right by "Lazarus?" Such a thought should strike our conscience, open our hearts - and then our pockets or purses.

We can hardly respond to every appeal that comes our way. We have to make choices based on some discernment. I am raising the point of enjoying our Lord's hospitality toward us in the Eucharistic liturgy, because He made Himself poor so that we could be made rich in Christ Jesus (II COR. 8:9) - a saving event actualized whenever we celebrate the Liturgy. Lazarus can be in our midst also, in one form or another. It may take some sympathetic imagination to "see" him in a mere basket by the Cross, but hopefully the parable will convince us that the way of the rich man is not consistent with the gifts of God that we enjoy in such abundance.

_____

In case you may be further interested, below are a series of links to other meditations that I have written throughout the years on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. There is, admittedly, a great deal of overlap and I depend on St. John Chrysostom's remarkable set of homilies on the parable throughout these meditations. But, again, in case you may be interested to read further:

A Radical Critique of Selfishness - Lazarus and the Rich Man

Alleviating the Plight of the Poor

St. John Chrysostom on Wealth and Poverty

Coffee With Sister Vassa: RESENTMENTS & THE FIG-TREE

Coffee With Sister Vassa

RESENTMENTS & THE FIG-TREE

“’Watch yourselves; if your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him; and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.’ The apostles said to the Lord, ‘Increase our faith!’ And the Lord said, ‘If you had faith as a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this sycamine tree, ‘Be rooted up, and be planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.’” (Lk 17: 3-6)

The apostles think they don’t have enough faith, to forgive so many times a day. So, they appeal to the Lord: “Increase our faith!” And He responds with this perplexing lesson about a mustard-seed-sized faith, which can uproot“this sycamine tree,” a familiar kind of tree, widespread in the Middle East, which the apostles could see right there, where the Lord was speaking with them, and force it to “be planted in the sea,” (where it would die, because a sycamine tree could not live in the sea). Why does our Lord compare true faith, – the kind that can forgive and forgive, – to uprooting and killing a“sycamine tree”? 

First of all, it was a familiar kind of tree, as familiar to the apostles as resentments are to most people, against fellow human-beings. Second, the sycamine tree had very deep roots, (as do resentments), so it was difficult to kill (as are resentments). It tapped into water-sources deep in the earth, so even if you cut it to the ground, it could re-surface again and again, like a dandelion, because its roots were still fed by those deep water-sources. Third of all, the sycamine tree produced very bitter and pungent figs, which could only be eaten very slowly, one bit at a time. Nonetheless, they were eaten by poor people, just as resentments are “eaten” slowly, by those of us impoverished spiritually, when we are crippled by harboring resentments.

But here’s the good news: Just a little bit of “faith,” the size of a mustard-seed, can move a “sycamine tree,” roots and all, to its death in the “sea” of God’s mercy. By “faith” our Lord Jesus Christ means faith in the true God, Who can handle the issues I might have with the “repeat offendors” in my life, including me. When I hand all our issues over to Him, by just a little bit of faith; by letting God be God in my life today, and handing judgment and healing and providence over to Him, I can move on with my life “on land.” I can re-embrace the life-bringing kind of “Tree” that is the Cross of my vocation, and let the“sycamine trees” of my resentments rest, in the sea of God’s mercy.

_____

As Sister Vassa makes clear, resentment can completely control a person, seemingly stronger than forgiveness. But, as she does well, she expresses a strong confidence in the healing power of "a little bit of faith, the size of a mustard seed," to help us overcome the temptations of resentment.

Coffee With Sister Vassa: GOOD IS DIGNIFYING

Coffee With Sister Vassa

GOOD IS DIGNIFYING

 

“Vouchsafe (Καταξίωσον, Сподоби, make/deem us worthy), O Lord, for us to be kept (φυλαχθῆναι, сохранитися) this evening without sin…” (Prayer, Byzantine Vespers)

A puzzling choice of words, isn’t it? The first word of this prayer, “καταξίωσον,” most often translated as “vouchsafe,” involves this idea of us being made/deemed “worthy,” that is to say, “esteemed” and “dignified.” So, “to be kept without sin,” to make the healthy choices this evening, in God’s light, rather than the unhealthy ones, is dignifying. And we all know this to be true, from experience: If, this evening, I choose to over-eat, or over-drink, or under-sleep, say, if I binge-watch some Netflix-series until late into the night, I do tend to wake up feeling rather “un”-dignified and, somehow, of less “worth” to myself and others. 

My main point here is, the above-quoted prayer does not mean that God is the One Who sometimes sees us as having “worth,” and sometimes doesn’t. This prayer, like any prayer in our beautiful Tradition, is not there to instruct God, or to change His attitude toward us. God is unchangeable: He always loves us, always wants good for us, and is always giving us the freedom and opportunity to choose light over darkness. 

The prayer is there to teach us to speak with Him in the proper terms, and in light of His life-giving truths, – like the simple truth that making healthy choices this evening is dignifying. So let me not rob myself of the “worth” my Creator invariably attaches to all of us, having called us into existence, and continuously calling us to share in His kind of being, a dignified kind of being. Let me choose light over darkness this day, and this evening, making healthy choices in God’s light. Because I, like all of us, am “worth” it.

In an Honest and Good Heart

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

At the 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!" 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."

Coffee with Sister Vassa: JUDGING THE SINS OF OTHERS

JUDGING THE SINS OF OTHERS

 

“One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house, and took his place at table. And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.’” (Lk 7: 36-39) 

This Pharisee is considered a “righteous” man by the standards of his world, although he isn’t called “righteous” in the Gospel-narrative. He know-it-all attitude leads him to misjudge both Christ and the woman in the incident described here. The Pharisee expected Jesus to recoil from her touch, and to do so publicly, because his judgmental attitude led him to undervalue both his invited Guest and the woman who showed up uninvited. 

But I’m thinking that a truly righteous man, according to the Gospel, would have a different reaction to a “sinful” woman. I’m thinking, specifically, of the reaction of the righteous Joseph, when he noticed that the virgin betrothed to him, Mary, was pregnant. “Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man,” we read in Matthew 1: 19,“and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.” There is compassion and considerate discretion in the reaction of this truly righteous man, to what looked like a “sinful” woman. Yes, he had resolved to send her away, but he didn’t want to “put her to shame,” as the Pharisee expected Christ to do to the “sinful” woman.

I know, there is much more to be said about this passage. But I’m just noting to myself today, let me exercise caution, when it comes to judging the “sins” of others, because only God knows “what sort of woman (or man)” each of us is, and He is the One who will sort all of us out, in the end. Lord, thank You for letting us approach You, regardless of “the sort of people” others may think we are.

___

A very fine reflection today from Sister Vassa. One can legitimately get the impression that contemporary Christians are intent to make it known how strongly they condemn sexual sins. A bit more humility and compassion may be a spiritually-healthy "antidote" for that propensity toward judgment. Sister Vassa offers some great examples from the Scriptures, but also the Example - and that is Christ Himself in his refusal to condemn "a woman of the city, who was a sinner." When does condemnation every evoke repentance as a response?

 

The Holy Apostle and Evangelist Luke

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

 For a few Sundays now, at the Divine Liturgy, we have made the transition from the Gospel According to St. Matthew to the Gospel According to St. Luke. Here is a brief meditation on the significance of the third Gospel.

“Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us, just as they were delivered to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Thoephilus, that you may know the truth concerning the things of which you have been informed.” (LK. 1:1-4)

That, of course, is the well-known introduction by St. Luke the Evangelist to the third of the canonical Gospels that he compiled with great care and a determination to present the “truth” of the ministry and then the death and resurrection of Christ. And it is the holy apostle and evangelist Luke whose Gospel we are now reading on Sunday morning at the Liturgy. From The Menologion, or calendar of the year providing a brief account of the saints and feasts of the Church, we read this succinct entry about St. Luke: 

This Apostle was an Antiochean, a physician by trade, and a disciple and companion of Paul. He wrote his Gospel in Greek after Matthew and Mark, after which he wrote the Acts of the Apostles, and dedicated both works to Theophilus, who, according to some, was Governor of Achaia (i.e. Greece). He lived some eighty-six years and died in Achaia, perhaps in Patras, the capital of this district. His emblem is the calf, the third symbolic beast mentioned by Ezekiel (1:10), which is a symbol of Christ’s sacrificial and priestly office, as St. Irenaeus says.

 

On his feast day of October 18, the dismissal hymn in Tone 5 (troparion) to St. Luke praises him for his service to Christ and to the Church: 

Let us praise with sacred songs the holy Apostle Luke, 
the recorder of the joyous Gospel of Christ 
and the scribe of the Acts of the Apostles; 
for his writings are a testimony of the Church of Christ. 
He is the physician of human weaknesses and infirmities. 
he heals the wounds of our souls, 
and constantly intercedes for our salvation.

And the kontakion in Tone 2:

Let us praise the godly Luke; 
he is the true preacher of piety, 
the orator of ineffable mysteries 
and the star of the Church, 
for the Word, Who alone knows the hearts of men, 
chose him, with the wise Paul, to be a teacher of the Gentiles!

And one of the apostikha verses stands out as an excellent summary of the contents of St. Luke’s Gospel, outlining some of the unique features of this particular Gospel and then moving on to mention St. Luke’s role as the Apostle Paul’s traveling companion. Although highly rhetorical as usual, this particular aposticha remains as a good teaching tool:

Rejoice, blameless writer of the Gospel of joy; 
you have recorded for us the conception and preaching of the Baptist; 
the wondrous Annunciation to the Mother of the Lord; 
the ineffable Incarnation and Birth of the Word Who came forth from her womb; 
His temptations, miracles, and parables, 
His Passion, Cross and death, 
the glory of His risen body recognized in the breaking of the bread, 
His glorious Ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit. 
As a faithful witness you compiled the Acts of the Apostles. 
You were Paul’s companion in travel and his great consolation, 
The beholder of divine mysteries and light of the Church. 
Guard us all, O glorious healer!

 

Is everyone able to identify all of the references above? Is everyone able to enumerate some of the miracles and parables that are unique to St. Luke, meaning that they cannot be found in any other of the remaining three Gospels? Some of those unique passages are referred to above in the apostikha verse. Is everyone aware of some of the different details found only in St. Luke’s account of the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ? Does everyone know the events compiled by the evangelist in the Acts of the Apostles? As the years go by and as we continue to read the Gospels over and over, I believe that we begin to distinguish between Sts. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – their style, their particular emphases and approach, and the material that is found in only one of the Gospels. The point is not about “passing a test” concerning our knowledge of the “facts.” . (Though, periodically, the “Bible” as a category does shows up on Jeopardy!). The point is rather to have a scriptural mind that is very familiar with the Gospels precisely because we turn to them on a daily basis for our immersion into the "joy" that is found there because they make Christ alive to us.

I recall watching many years ago an interview of William F. Buckley. Buckley was asked what books and writers have had the greatest influence on him, and he unhesitatingly responded: "Matthew, Mark, Luke and John." An awkward silence ensued, and the interviewer quickly changed the subject! So, who are the writers and what are the books that have most deeply influenced your thinking, your worldview and your approach to life?

The Thundering Message

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

We just heard yesterday 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. 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 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 her 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."