Posts
All Comments
Observe, the hospitality here spoken of is not merely a friendly reception, but one given with zeal and alacrity, with readiness, and going about it, as if one were receiving Christ himself …If you receive the stranger as Christ, do not be ashamed, but rather glory: but if you do not receive him as Christ, do not receive him at all. “He who receives you,” he says, “received me” (Mt. 10.40).
+ St. John Chrysostom: Homilies XIII and XIV on I Timothy V
 |
| Source: uncutmountainsupply.com |
Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christl,
I have been reading and studying First Peter, a magnificent but much-neglected epistle. The following passage is characteristic of the epistle's tone and the extent to which the epistle is so Gospel-oriented:
The end of all things is at hand.Therefore, be serious and sober for prayers. Above all, let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. As each one has received a gift, use is to serve one another as good stewards of God's varied grace. I Pet. 4:7-10)
If we "unpack" this densely-filled passage with its variety of Christian virtues, we find four practices that are meant to exemplify a genuine Christian community/parish:
Through these practices, a Christian community will stand out from its immediate environment, and environment that often enough finds no interest or meaning in just such practices. Love in v. 8 "covers a multitude of sins." We find this thought already in the Old Testament (Prov. 10:12; Ps. 32:1); and elsewhere in the New Testament (Jm. 5:20). By love, the believer fulfills the Gospel's greatest imperative, and this in turn leads to receiving the great mercy and forgiveness of God.
The teaching of the Lord and the apostles is meant to be practiced "in season and out of season" (II Tim. 4:5). However, I believe that we do have a tendency to either forget these deeper scriptural truths, or treat them with a certain formalism, not exactly aflame with a love for both God and neighbor! With that in mind, we can be inspired in the approaching "season" of Great Lent, to recover what we have lost through forgetfulness or indifference; or by the sheer overwhelming daily responsibilities and cares that can swamp the best of our intentions.
Great Lent is after all, a "school for repentance," a genuine "turning" from one mode of existence to another. Could the Apostle's teaching then serve as what is called a podvig in our spiritual tradition - a conscious and exerted effort that we take up as a way of returning to the love and embrace of God? Could an intensification of prayer, love, hospitality and service to one another be that much-needed "lenten program" that will make any ascetical fasting meaningful and not simply a cultural or legalistic undertaking devoid of any lasting significance?
The Apostle closes this section of teaching with further exhortations and then a doxology in praise of God through Jesus Christ:
... whoever speaks, as one who utters oracles of God; whoever renders service, as one who renders it by the strength which God supplies; in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belongs glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen. (I Pet. 4:11).
In jus a few verses an entire "worldview" that combines theory and practice with Jesus Christ as the Cornerstone (Is. 28:16; I Pet. 2:6)!
 |
| Image source: https://oca.org |
At the Liturgy this last Sunday, we heard the Gospel narrative of a miracle within another miracle. The raising of the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue ruler, is momentarily interrupted when Jesus encounters the woman with an issue of blood (Lk. 8:41-56). After Jesus heals her, and in the process praises her faith: "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace," he will go to the home of Jairus and bring his daughter back from the realm of the dead by and restoring her to her family, once "her spirit returned." Certainly two amazing and dramatic events. Studying this event through a contemporary biblical commentary, I always recall a statement by Brendan Byrne, a New Testament scholar who wrote a memorable sentence in his fine book, The Hospitality of God - A Reading of St. Luke's Gospel. In speaking of this woman's lack of place in the world of her day, Byrne wrote tellingly: "She is in many ways one of the most marginalized figures in the Gospel." Considering the level of human misery and suffering encountered in the Gospel, that is saying a great deal! And Byrne makes the case in the following succinct paragraph:
"In contrast to the influential ruler of the synagogue, how different the situation of this nameless woman (v. 43-48). As far as the community is concerned, she is as good as dead; according to Lev. 15:25-31, her condition renders her permanently unclean, and she in turn renders unclean any person or objects she touches. It is scarcely possible to grasp the loneliness and isolation of her situation - accentuated now by poverty, since she has spent all she had on physicians (v. 43)."
Loneliness and isolation are two conditions corrosive of a healthy personality. One can sink ever deeper into a debilitating depression. Are loneliness and isolation self-inflicted; or are they inflicted from without, from the icy disregard of a closed social order? The presence of the woman with an issue of blood, as we just read, was unwelcome, and thus she remained marginalized by the prejudice of her society, even if we acknowledge that isolation driven by adherence to the Law. We like to think that our social world is more tolerant today, and perhaps that is true. But perhaps the same kind of prejudice and marginalization is equally present today as then. We certainly have countless people in our midst today who are actually pushed off to the margins as human beings unwanted and uncared for.
It is often the "other," the person we cannot relate to in his/her full and distinct humanity. The "other" is a person who embraces a life-style we consider sinful or aberrant; or someone who looks or speaks differently; or a "displaced person" entering into our world from outside (which is why Flannery O'Connor wrote that Jesus was just another DP). We are to assist persons to move in from the margins, not to stay out there in isolation. Jesus restored this woman to fellowship with her fellow countrymen. It is a noble task, worthy of the Gospel, to embrace, not to exclude. May the Lord give us the strength and vision to fulfill that ministry as we claim to serve and belong to Him.
*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:
