"Let Us Give Thanks to the Lord"

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'Let us give thanks unto the Lord!'

"Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?" (LK. 17:17)

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

The cleansing of the ten lepers (LK. 17:11-19) is clearly a remarkable story that reveals the exousia, or authority, of Christ over sickness. Yet, in addition, it is a healing story that is just as much about the need to offer thanksgiving to God whenever we are a recipient of His abundant mercy.

As the story opens, we first hear the plaintive and pathetic cry from these lepers: "And as he entered the village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, 'Jesus, Master, have pity on us'." (v.12-13) Did these lepers truly believe that Jesus could do something for them that no one else could possibly do?

In response to whatever level of faith they may have had, Jesus cleansed the ten lepers simply by His word:  "When he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to priests." And as they went they were cleansed." (v. 14).

Lepers, of course, were not allowed to be near the other members of their community, for they were declared to be unclean and therefore, ritually impure (LEV. 13:45-46; NUM. 5:2-3). Their cleansing not only freed them from a debilitating illness that left its victims visibly disfigured; but it also restored them to fellowship in their community. Their ostracism was now over. 

According to the Law, the priests that Jesus sent them to would declare their healing and make that restoration to society a possibility. Yet, considering the enormous generosity of Christ in being the source of both their cleansing and restoration, we read with great surprise that only one of them returned to Jesus in order to thank Him:

Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell at his feet, giving him thanks. (v. 15-16)

What adds to our surprise is that this newly-cleansed leper "was a Samaritan." (v. 16) We know that Jews and Samaritans were hostile to each other and that "Jews have no dealings with Samaritans."(JN. 4:9) In the light of that reality, it is all the more significant that there was a Samaritan among the ten lepers. Perhaps, as lepers, they were forced to keep company; but could it be possible that in their misery they understood that they shared a common humanity that transcended their ethnic/cultural/religious barriers? So, perhaps in their collective misery, these lepers overcame their mutual hostility as they remained together on the outskirts of the village. 

Be that as it may, Jesus wanted to point out the incongruity of a Samaritan returning to offer thanks to God, while His fellow Jews failed to do so. And then Jesus asks what is a very convicting question that goes to the very heart of the matter:  "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner"?" (v. 17-18) Even Jesus calls the Samaritan a "foreigner!" (It is of note that it was a foreigner - Naaman - who returned to Elisha after being healed of leprosy (II KINGS 5:15, LK. 4:27). But, nevertheless, the question "cuts deep," we can say. 

Christ does not "need" to be thanked. Jesus is not petulant; and He is not offended by the cleansed lepers who failed to return as did the Samaritan. It was the lepers who needed to offer thanksgiving or praise to God for what had been done for them. That was the point that Christ drew attention to through His publicly-stated question. Significantly, Jesus tells the Samaritan:  "Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well." (v. 17) Did the cleansed and thankful leper receive more than the others had done?

St. Athanasius the Great implies this in his comments on this passage:

"They thought more highly of their cure from leprosy than of him who who had healed them.... Actually, this one was given much more than the rest. Besides being healed of his leprosy, he was told by the Lord, "Stand up and go on your way. Your faith has saved you." You see, those who give thanks and those who glorify have the same kind of feelings. They bless their helper for the benefits they have received. That is why Paul urged everybody to 'glorify God with your body.' Isaiah also commanded, 'Give glory to God'." — Festal Letter 6

The leprosy that was treated with fear and great caution in the Scriptures can serve as a vivid metaphor for human sin. In the Orthodox Tradition, we treat sin more as a sickness than as the breaking of a commandment. Sin is more of a "condition" than a "crime." It is, actually, the "human condition" into which we are born when we enter this world. Thus, "Since all are sinners and fall short of the glory of God" (ROM. 3:23), we all need to be healed by God. And we all have been: through the redemptive death of Christ on the Cross and His Resurrection from the dead. And then through our personal death to sin and resurrection to life with Christ through the mystery of Baptism. (ROM. 6:3-11) 

For this we give thanks to God from a heart overflowing with gratitude, thanksgiving and love because we are overwhelmed by what God has done for us in and through our Savior Jesus Christ. We may have been healed through Baptism, but without the response of thanksgiving, this healing remains incomplete, and it will not bear much fruit. 

On the Lord's Day we come to the Eucharistic service of the Church - the Liturgy - which is the Service of Thanksgiving, we could say. Our presence signifies our own "return" to the Lord in response to His healing presence in our lives. (For the baptized who do not return to thus give thanks, we find a resemblance to the healed lepers who failed to return in order to praise God). And it is then that we offer thanksgiving to God as we offer ourselves up to God through the sacrifice of Christ actualized in the Liturgy. And then we receive the Eucharist - the "thanksgiving food" - to nourish us in this movement of growing love toward the most Holy Trinity:

"Eucharistisomen to Kyrio!" - "Let us give thanks unto the Lord!"

From Mother Paula

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Dear family and friends, Wishing everyone a thankful and blessed Thanksgiving day! Hope you enjoy these verses from our Thanksgiving service.

Yours in Christ, Mother Paula & OMT Nuns

Come all you, thankful people, And let us raise a hymn of grateful praise to God, our Benefactor and Creator, The bounteous source of all our blessings, The riches of our earthly life and the glory of the world to come, for in His Great mercy and love for us His children, He has granted us salvation.

We give thanks to God, the Father, For our faith in His Son, Jesus Christ, For the love of all His saints, And for the truth of the Holy Gospel, Which we and all the world have received, Bringing forth the fruit of the grace of God, And salvation to our souls.

Come with the angels let us praise our Lord and Maker Our deliverance from distress, our defense in time of danger, Our healing in sickness, our comfort in sorrow, Our hope in despair, our help in adversity; And let us offer songs of Thanksgiving for this His greatest gift, His ever abiding, mercy and love for us,Through which we are granted forgiveness of sins and life everlasting.

Coffee With Sister Vassa: Preparing for Thanksgiving

 

PREPARING FOR THANKSGIVING

“O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy endures forever.” (Ps 106/107: 1)

Goodness and mercy. This year, it is again what I’d like to give thanks for, as I prepare for the wonderful holiday of Thanksgiving and the upcoming (on the OC) Nativity Fast. God reveals His enduring goodness and mercy to me not only through the ever-changing places, things, situations and states of my mind and heart and body, but also through the words, actions, and attitudes of people near and not-so-near to me. As we walk through our both challenging and grace-filled times, I’m reminded that it is through the ups and downs of time that God is invariably sending us the open invitation to change; to grow in understanding, goodness and mercy toward ourselves and one another.

This year, people have imparted, and continue to impart, God’s goodness and mercy to me, even from a long distance, in the strange reality of our online “communities.” Thank You, God, for the goodness and mercy of Your people, who pop up in my life as friends or foes. Help me, Lord, to be teachable and to learn what I need to learn, to pass on Your goodness and mercy in this challenging time, full of opportunities for that kind of thing. Amen!

Thanksgiving Day Meditation

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Indulging not in food, but in giving thanks to the Lord! Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ, A few years ago I ran across an op-ed piece in our local newspaper titled "A Moveable Fast" by Elyssa East. Such a title in a well-known urban secular publication was a bit intriguing, especially since the article's concluding paragraph can be read in an "Orthodox manner" without a great deal of manipulation:  In the nearly 400 years since the first Thanksgiving, the holiday has come to mirror our transformation into a nation of gross overconsumption, but the New England colonists never intended for Thanksgiving to be a day of gluttony. They dished up restraint along with gratitude as a shared main course. What mattered most was not the feast itself, but the gathering together in thanks and praise for life's most humble gifts. Perhaps this holiday season we could benefit from restoring a proper Thanksgiving balance between forbearance and indulgence. In other words, the uneasy alliance that has formed over the years between Thanksgiving and indulgence does not properly capture the meaning of this national holiday. For Thanksgiving to be properly "observed," a "gathering together in thanks and praise" is the most appropriate response.  This is a good, albeit brief, definition of what we do in the Divine Liturgy. The Eucharist is about our thanksgiving to God not only for what we may have, but for who we actually are as the People of God in the process of growing in His likeness, our life in Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit. We celebrate that service of thanksgiving — the Eucharist — so that we may realize our vocation as "eucharistic beings," and not as mere "consumers." For those who like theological jargon, our anthropology is maximalist, not minimalist. So, just as we engage in the festal Thanksgiving Day table in our homes, we continually make the effort to receive the eucharistic food from the altar table in a spirit of praise and thanksgiving. And we do so joyfully and eagerly. Elyssa East's op-ed article includes a fascinating historical sketch of the mind and practices of the early Puritans in 17th century New England. Fasting and feasting were part of their way of life. Admittedly, I would acknowledge that the "Orthodox ethos" and the "Puritan ethos" are as far apart as one could imagine. There is the saying that a Puritan is a person who is afraid that someone, somewhere, and for some reason is actually enjoying himself! The Calvinist conception of an angry God Who needs to be appeased before He acts swiftly through punishment does not resonate for Orthodox Christians. And we thank our merciful God for that! Perhaps the harsh environment and struggle for survival experienced by these early Puritans further influenced some of their bleak theological conclusions. However, some of our practices may coincide. The author relates that the Puritans' fear of "excessive rains from the bottles of heaven," in addition to "epidemics, crop infestations, the Indian wars and other hardships," led them to call for community-wide days of fasting or a "day of public humiliation and prayer." She further writes: According to the 19th-century historian William DeLove, the New England colonies celebrated as many as nine such 'special public days' a year from 1620-1700. And as the Puritans were masters of self-denial, days of abstention outnumbered thanksgivings two to one. Fasting, Cotton Mather wrote, 'kept the wheel of prayer in continual motion'. Our fasting as Orthodox Christians, however, is not based on a fearful notion of appeasing God; rather, it is a freely-chosen ascetical effort of self-discipline so as to actualize the words of the Lord when He fasted in the desert: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God" [Matthew 4:4]. The rhythm of fasting and feasting is directed by our liturgical calendar, as we are now fasting in preparation for the Feast of the Nativity. We are, however, granted a hierarchical "dispensation" on Thanksgiving Day to "break the fast" in order to celebrate this national holiday as Americans.  Actually, the Orthodox can hold their own with any other religiously-based culture when it comes to feasting. We have a great deal to feast about when we reflect upon the "divine economy!" Yet even feasting is not about "gross overconsumption" and mere indulgence. A few more of Elyssa East's paragraphs help us understand the historical, cultural and religious background of our Thanksgiving Day celebration. "It was in the late 1660s that the New England colonies began holding an 'Annual Provincial Thanksgiving,'" she writes. The holiday we celebrate today is a remnant of this harvest feast, which was theologically counterbalanced by an annual spring fast around the time of planting to ask God's good favor for the year. Yet fasting and praying also immediately preceded the harvest Thanksgiving. In 1690, in Massachusetts the feast itself was postponed, though not the fasting, out of extraordinary concern that the meal would inspire too much 'carnal confidence.' As life in the New World wilderness got easier, the New England colonies gradually began holding only their annual spring fast and fall harvest feast. Even after Abraham Lincoln established Thanksgiving as a national holiday in 1863, Massachusetts continued to celebrate its spring day of abstention for 31 more years. As "right believing" Christians, we know to Whom we offer our thanksgiving and why — not only on Thanksgiving Day, but at every Eucharistic Divine Liturgy. As the "royal priesthood" of believers, it is our responsibility to hold up the world in prayer before God — Father, Son and Holy Spirit. If this national holiday is now characterized by "gross overconsumption," that does not mean that we need to follow such a pattern when we have the opportunity to thank and praise God before we share our domestic meals together. Perhaps a properly understood "fear of God" can be spiritually healthy when we contemplate our choices. We have a wonderful opportunity to begin our Day of Thanksgiving by first attending the Divine Liturgy on Thursday morning at 9:30 a.m.

Glory to God for Autumn

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Here is an older meditation from many years ago (October 2004). I thought to bring it back to life in case anyone would be interested in something that deals with the season of Fall, since it now is beginning to "feel" like the Fall. 

 Glory to God for Autumn

This year, the Fall officially began on Sunday, September 22. Wonderful that we greeted the season with the beauty of the Divine Liturgy. From my personal—and, admittedly, “subjective”—perspective, there is nothing quite like the Fall among the four seasons. For me, one of this season’s greatest attractions is found in the flaming red, orange, yellow and golden leaves that transform familiar trees into a series of neighborhood “burning bushes,” each one seemingly brighter than the other. When combined with a piercing blue sky on a sunlit day and a certain crispness in the air, I find myself more vividly aware of the surrounding world and thankful for God’s creation.

On a somewhat more “philosophical note”—more apt to emerge, perhaps, on an overcast, windswept day—we may realize that this “colorful death” signals the fleeting nature of everything beautiful in this world, “for the form of this world is passing away” [1 Corinthians 7:31]. And yet this very beauty, and the sense of yearning that accompanies it, is a sign of the beauty ineffable of the coming Kingdom of God and our restless desire to behold and experience that beauty.

Growing up on a typical city block in Detroit, I distinctly recall a neighborhood “ritual” that marked this particular season: the raking and burning of leaves that went on up and down the entire block once most of the leaves had spiraled and floated to the ground. Everyone on the block raked the leaves down toward the street and into neatly formed mounds of color that rested alongside the curb. Then they were lit and the task of raking now became that of tending and overseeing the piles of burning leaves. This usually occurred after dinner for most families, but one could still see the shimmering waves of heat that protected one from the early evening chill and the ascending ashes rushing upward. Please momentarily forgive my politically incorrect indifference to the environment, but I thoroughly enjoyed those small bonfires near the curb as the pungent smell of burning leaves filled the air. This unmistakable smell would, as I recall, linger in the air for a couple of weeks or more as different neighbors got to the task at different times.

The entire scene embodied the wholesomeness of a 1950s first-grade reading primer, as “Mom” and “Dad,” together with “Dick” and “Jane” (and perhaps “Spot,” the frisky family dog) smilingly cooperated in this joint, familial enterprise. The reading primer would reformulate this “celebration” of healthy work and a neatly ordered environment into a staccato of minimally-complex sentences: “See Dad rake;” “Dick and Jane are raking too;” “Here comes mom!” This all served to increase the budding student’s vocabulary while reinforcing a picture of an idealized—if not idyllic—American way of life.

Since my parents were peasants from a Macedonian village, we never quite fit into that particular mold—especially when my mother would speak to me in Macedonian in front of my friends! And yet I distinctly remember teaching my illiterate mother to read from those very “Dick and Jane” primers so that she could obtain her American citizenship papers, which she proudly accomplished in due time.

Before getting too nostalgic, however, I will remind you that this wholesome way of life - something of an urban idyll - was taking place at the height of Cold War anxiety. This, in turn, evokes another clear memory from my youth: the air-raid drills in our schools that were meant to prepare us and protect us from a Soviet nuclear strike. (Khrushchev’s shoe-pounding exhibition at the United Nations, together with his ominous “We will bury you!” captured the whole mood of this period.) These carefully-executed air-raid drills were carried out with due solemnity and seriousness—lines straight and no talking allowed! We would wind our way down into a fairly elaborate—if not labyrinthine—series of basement levels that were seemingly constructed, and thus burdened, with the hopeless task of saving us from nuclear bombs! We would then sit in neatly formed rows monitored by our teachers, and apparently oblivious to the real dangers of the Cold War world, until the “all clear” signal was given, allowing us to file back to our classrooms. Thus did the specter of the mushroom cloud darken the sunny skies of “Dick” and “Jane’s” age of innocence.

I must acknowledge that my short nostalgic digression does not offer a great deal for reflection. So as not to entirely frustrate that purpose—and because I began with some brief reflections on the created world—I would like to offer some of the wonderful praises of the beauty of the world around us from the remarkable Akathistos Hymn, “Glory to God for All Things.”

This hymn, which has become quite popular in many Orthodox parishes, was said to have been composed either by an Orthodox bishop or priest slowly perishing in a Soviet prison camp in 1940. In unscientific, yet theological-poetic imagery, he reminds us of what we are often blind to: God’s glorious creation. Would he have “missed” all of this if his life was as free as ours are to be preoccupied with daily concerns and cares that leave no time or room to look around in wonder? Whatever the case may be, this is a magnificent hymn that fills the soul with delight if only for the moment that it is being chanted:

O Lord, how lovely it is to be Your guest. Breeze full of scents; mountains reaching to the skies; waters like boundless mirrors, reflecting the sun’s golden rays and the scudding clouds. All nature murmurs mysteriously, breathing the depth of tenderness. Birds and beasts of the forest bear the imprint of Your love. Blessed are you, mother earth, in your fleeting loveliness, which wakens our yearning for happiness that will last forever. In the land where, amid beauty that grows not old, rings out the cry: Alleluia! [Kontakion 2]

You have brought me into life as if into an enchanted paradise. We have seen the sky like a chalice of deepest blue, where in the azure heights the birds are singing. We have listened to the soothing murmur of the forest and the melodious music of the streams. We have tasted fruit of fine flavor and the sweet-scented honey. We can live very well on Your earth. It is a pleasure to be Your guest. [Ikos 2]

I see Your heavens resplendent with stars. How glorious You are, radiant with light! Eternity watches me by the rays of the distant stars. I am small, insignificant, but the Lord is at my side. Your right arm guides me wherever I go. [Ikos 5]

Brings to mind Dostoevsky’s enigmatic phrase:  “Beauty will save the world.”

 

Can't Get No Satisfaction... Thank God!

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Relatively speaking, the meditation being presented here was written some time ago - Fall 2007. I am quite sure that anyone who read it then has long forgotten it! But for those who are new to the parish, and for those who are willing to give it another read, I thought that it would have a certain resonance since it was only yesterday evening when we chanted the Akathist Hymn "Glory to God For All Things" as we acknowledged the Church New Year beginning on September 1. I say that because there are certain thoughts expressed in the Hymn that led me to write this particular meditation.

* * *

Can't Get No Satisfaction... Thank God!

"My soul thirsts for God, for the living God." —Psalm 42:2

"I can't get no satisfaction" —The Rolling Stones

"I (Can't Get No) Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones must be considered one of the great all-time "classics" of the pop/rock music world. 

I remember it well from the Summer of 1965. With its driving guitar riff and raspy-voiced lyrics giving a kind of pop-articulation to the disaffection of the lonely and alienated urbanite who, try as he might, just cannot succeed at "satisfying" the material and romantic/sexual goals droned into his mind on the radio and TV; this song - regardless of its actual intentions - managed to say something enduring about the "human condition." (I wonder if the various members of the Rolling Stones ever experience any genuine satisfaction after many years of fame and fortune). 
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Be that as it may, a rather odd connection came to me between this song and a verse from "The Akathist of Thanksgiving" that we sang and chanted yesterday evening for the Church New Year beginning today, September 1. In Ikos Six of the akathist, one of the verses in the refrain reads as follows:

Glory to You, Who have inspired in us dissatisfaction with earthly things.

Both the Stones' song and the Orthodox hymn speak of "no satisfaction" or "dissatisfaction." However by "earthly things," the author of this remarkable hymn does not mean the natural world in which God has placed us. The refrain of Ikos Three makes that abundantly clear:

Glory to You, Who brought out of the earth's darkness diversity of color, taste and fragrance, 
Glory to You, for the warmth and caress of all nature, 
Glory to You, for surrounding us with thousands of Your creatures, 
Glory to You, for the depth of Your wisdom reflected in the whole world ...

To the purified eyes of faith, the world around us can be a "festival of life" ... foreshadowing eternal life" (Ikos Two). The "earthly" can lead us to the "heavenly."

"Earthly things" in the context of the Akathist Hymn and the Orthodox worldview expressed in the Hymn, would certainly refer to the very things the Rolling Stones song laments about being absent - material and sexual satisfaction seen as ends in themselves. But whereas the song expresses both frustration and resentment as part of the psychic pain caused by such deprivation, the Akathist Hymn glorifies God for such a blessing! In the light of the insight of the Akathist Hymn, we can thus speak of a "blessed dissatisfaction." The Apostle Paul spoke of a closely-related "godly grief." (On this point, I would imagine that the Apostle Paul and Rolling Stones part company).

This just may prove to be quite a challenge to our way of approaching something like dissatisfaction.

Our usual instinct is to flee from dissatisfaction "as from the plague." Such a condition implies unhappiness, a sense of a lack of success, of "losing" in the harsh game of life as time continues to run out on us; and the deprivation and frustration mentioned above. 

Why should we tolerate the condition of dissatisfaction when limitless means of achieving "satisfaction" are at our disposal? To escape from a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, don't people resort to alcohol, drugs and sex as desperate forms of relief? Or unrestrained and massive consumer spending? And we should not eliminate "religion" as one of those means of escape. 

If those means fail, then there is always therapy and medication as more aggressive means to relieve us of this unendurable feeling. 

Sadly, many learn "the hard way," that every ill-conceived attempt to eliminate dissatisfaction through "earthly things" only leads to a further and deeper level of this unsatiable affliction. Sadder still, there are many who would "forfeit their soul/life" just to avoid the bitter taste of dissatisfaction!

If the living God exists as we believe that He does, then how could we not feel dissatisfaction at His absence from our lives? What could possibly fill the enormous space in the depth of our hearts that yearns for God "as a hart longs for flowing streams." (Ps. 42:1) 

It is as if when people "hear" the voice of God calling them - in their hearts, their conscience, through another person, a personal tragedy - they reach over and turn up the volume so as to drown out that call. 

If we were made for God, then each person has an "instinct for the transcendent" (I recall this term from Fr. Alexander Schmemann), that can only be suppressed at an incalculable cost to our very humanity. To put that another way from the Akathist: "Where You are not is only emptiness."

In His infinite mercy, the Lord "blesses" us with a feeling of dissatisfaction so that we do not foolishly lose our souls in the infinitesimal pseudo-satisfactions that come our way. Therefore, we thank God for the gift of "blessed dissatisfaction!"

When we realize that we "can't get no satisfaction," then we have approached the threshold of making a meaningful decision about the direction of our lives. The way "down" can lead to that kind of benign despair that characterizes the lives of many today. The way "up" to the One Who is "enthroned above the heavens" and the Source of true satisfaction. 

The Rolling Stones uncovered the truth of an enduring condition that we all must face and must "deal with." I am not so sure about the solution they would ultimately offer ... but in their initial intuition they proved to be very "Orthodox!"

May the Church New Year fill us with "blessed dissatisfaction" so that we desire to seek and love God all the more!

'Let us give thanks unto the Lord!'

"Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?" (LK. 17:17)

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

The cleansing of the ten lepers (LK. 17:11-19) is clearly a remarkable story that reveals the exousia, or authority, of Christ over sickness. Yet, in addition, it is a healing story that is just as much about the need to offer thanksgiving to God whenever we are a recipient of His abundant mercy.

As the story opens, we first hear the plaintive and pathetic cry from these lepers: "And as he entered the village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, 'Jesus, Master, have pity on us'." (v.12-13) Did these lepers truly believe that Jesus could do something for them that no one else could possibly do?

In response to whatever level of faith they may have had, Jesus cleansed the ten lepers simply by His word:  "When he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to priests." And as they went they were cleansed." (v. 14).

Lepers, of course, were not allowed to be near the other members of their community, for they were declared to be unclean and therefore, ritually impure (LEV. 13:45-46; NUM. 5:2-3). Their cleansing not only freed them from a debilitating illness that left its victims visibly disfigured; but it also restored them to fellowship in their community. Their ostracism was now over. 

According to the Law, the priests that Jesus sent them to would declare their healing and make that restoration to society a possibility. Yet, considering the enormous generosity of Christ in being the source of both their cleansing and restoration, we read with great surprise that only one of them returned to Jesus in order to thank Him:

Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell at his feet, giving him thanks. (v. 15-16) 

 

What adds to our surprise is that this newly-cleansed leper "was a Samaritan." (v. 16) We know that Jews and Samaritans were hostile to each other and that "Jews have no dealings with Samaritans." (JN. 4:9) In the light of that reality, it is all the more significant that there was a Samaritan among the ten lepers. Perhaps, as lepers, they were forced to keep company; but could it be possible that in their misery they understood that they shared a common humanity that transcended their ethnic/cultural/religious barriers? So, perhaps in their collective misery, these lepers overcame their mutual hostility as they remained together on the outskirts of the village. 

Be that as it may, Jesus wanted to point out the incongruity of a Samaritan returning to offer thanks to God, while His fellow Jews failed to do so. And then Jesus asks what is a very convicting question that goes to the very heart of the matter:  "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner"?" (v. 17-18) Even Jesus calls the Samaritan a "foreigner!" (It is of note that it was a foreigner - Naaman - who returned to Elisha after being healed of leprosy (II KINGS 5:15, LK. 4:27). But the question "cuts deep," we can say. 

Christ does not "need" to be thanked. Jesus is not petulant; and He is not offended by the cleansed lepers who failed to return as did the Samaritan. It was the lepers who needed to offer thanksgiving or praise to God for what had been done for them. That was the point that Christ drew attention to through His publicly-stated question. Significantly, Jesus tells the Samaritan:  "Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well." (v. 17) Did the cleansed and thankful leper receive more than the others had done?

St. Athanasius the Great implies this in his comments on this passage:

"They thought more highly of their cure from leprosy than of him who who had healed them.... Actually, this one was given much more than the rest. Besides being healed of his leprosy, he was told by the Lord, "Stand up and go on your way. Your faith has saved you." You see, those who give thanks and those who glorify have the same kind of feelings. They bless their helper for the benefits they have received. That is why Paul urged everybody to 'glorify God with your body.' Isaiah also commanded, 'Give glory to God'." — Festal Letter 6

 

The leprosy that was treated with fear and great caution in the Scriptures can serve as a vivid metaphor for human sin. In the Orthodox Tradition, we treat sin more as a sickness than as the breaking of a commandment. Sin is more of a "condition" than a "crime." It is, actually, the "human condition" into which we are born when we enter this world. Thus, "Since all are sinners and fall short of the glory of God" (ROM. 3:23), we all need to be healed by God. And we all have been: through the redemptive death of Christ on the Cross and His Resurrection from the dead. And then through our personal death to sin and resurrection to life with Christ through the mystery of Baptism. (ROM. 6:3-11) 

For this we give thanks to God from a hear overflowing with gratitude, thanksgiving and love because we are overwhelmed by what God has done for us in and through our Savior Jesus Christ. We may have been healed through Baptism, but without the response of thanksgiving, this healing remains incomplete, and it will not bear much fruit. 

On the Lord's Day we come to the Eucharistic service of the Church - the Liturgy - which is the Service of Thanksgiving, we could say. Our presence signifies our own "return" to the Lord in response to His healing presence in our lives. (For the baptized who do not return to thus give thanks, we find a resemblance to the healed lepers who failed to return in order to praise God). And it is then that we offer thanksgiving to God as we offer ourselves up to God through the sacrifice of Christ actualized in the Liturgy. And then we receive the Eucharist - the "thanksgiving food" - to nourish us in this movement of growing love toward the most Holy Trinity:

"Eucharistisomen to Kyrio!" - "Let us give thanks unto the Lord!"

Begin the New Year with Thanksgiving

Dear Parish Faithful,

"The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims His handiwork." (Ps 19:1)

On Wednesday evening, there were clearly over fifty worshipers in the Church for the chanting and singing of the remarkable Akathist Hymn, "Glory to God for All Things." This hymn seems to gain in popularity and participation on an annual basis. Those who are familiar with this hymn unanimously praise its beauty and power.There were also many from our Youth Group present, as they shared a common meal together before the service. Perhaps the hymn further planted seeds in their young minds and hearts about the presence and grandeur of God.

The "presentation" of the beauty of the natural world is one of the key components of this Akathist Hymn.This remarkable text is attributed to Archpriest Gregory Petrov (+1942), and/or a certain Metropolitan Tryphon ((+1934), both of whom perished in a Soviet prison camp. This hymn is replete with prayerful thanksgiving to God for the glory of the natural world in which we can more than detect the hand of God. In the praises from the hymn, we hear:

Glory to You, Who have shown me the beauty of the universe, 
Glory to You, Who have opened before me the sky and the earth as an eternal book of wisdom ... 
(Oikos 1) 

Glory to You, Who brought out of earth's darkness diversity of color, taste and fragrance, 
Glory to You, for the warmth and caress of all nature, 
Glory to You, for surrounding us with thousands of Your creatures, 
Glory to You, for the depth of Your wisdom reflected in the whole world, 
Glory to You, I kiss reverently the footprint of Your invisible tread ... 
(Oikos 3)

The Hymn, of course, speaks of other aspects of life for which we praise God - of His over-all providential guidance of our lives and the world to their ulitmate fulfillment in the Kingdom of God; of our relationships of love and fellowship with others; of the gifts of creativity and human endeavor, etc. As this Hymn expands our mind by effectively bringing to its attention the endless range of the world's diverse beauty that surrounds us; it can simultaneously expand our hearts to "open up" to God's presence in the world and in the face of our neighbor. The Akathist Hymn "Glory to God for All Things!" is "uplifting" in the best sense of the word. For it lifts one out of those daily perceptions of life that only vaguely remind us of God's presence; into a clarity of vision that sharpens that presence by reminding of realities we know of but often bury beneath our narrowly-focused preoccupations.

Many people - and I include myself - like new beginnings. For a new beginning means a new and fresh start. And this in turn leads us to (re)assess our lives in relationship to God. The Church New Year on September 1, may be little more than a neglected note on the church calendar hanging on the refrigerator or wall. In the endless "battle of the calendars" it may pass right by. In the "daily grind" it may seem quaint in its utter insignificance. However, if it can somehow catch our attention, it may be the starting point of renewing our relationship with God - and with our neighbor and the world around us. To take the time to observe the beginning of the Church New Year may be a small victory that reveals a larger and often hidden desire to make God first in our lives.

'Metaphysically Unsettling' - A Brief Reflection on Black Friday

 

Dear Parish Faithful, 

There is something almost "metaphysically unsettling" about "Black Friday." Not sure of the status of Black Friday this year, but I will assume that it has many a consumer excited and raring to go. Since there is "nothing new under the sun" in our fallen world, here is an older reflection on this cultural/social phenomenon. 

The very name of this day has an ominous ring to it. It may just be the sheer "nakedness" of the open, unapologetic, unflinching - and idolatrous? - materialism that pervades the day. (The data reveals that a staggering multi-billion dollars are usually spent in less than twenty-four hours). 

Or, is it the sight of the steely determination of compulsive consumers camping out overnight before the store of their choice that offers that ever-enticing single word: Sale? 

Perhaps it is the frantic mayhem of the rush to the doors once they swing open like insatiable jaws leading into a modern-day Moloch awaiting to swallow its victims.

Could it be the unneighborly pushing and shoving for a product on the shelves or a place in the check-out line? How about an uneasy sense of potential violence hovering in the atmosphere if competitive tempers and nerves begin to fray? 

Perhaps it is more the rapid devolution, in a veritable "twinkling of an eye," from a day of peaceful thanksgiving, into a day of rampant consumerism that is nothing short of unnerving in its effect. (Once upon a time, this Friday after Thanksgiving was a day of rest and relaxation.) As if it is now that Thanksgiving Thursday has become a mere prelude to the Black Friday to follow. 

Or is it, finally, the disheartening havoc wrecked upon any vestigial remainder of "Christmas" that has miraculously continued to linger within our secular culture two millennia after our Savior's nativity in the flesh? We seem to be witnessing a juggernaut that continues to pick up speed and strength as it careens into an unrestricted future with no end in sight. 

 

There is "Great and Holy Friday" and now there is ... "Black Friday." 

Am I exaggerating? Please let me know. Of course, one can show the virtue of patience and simply wait until "Cyber Monday" in the quiet of one's own domicile. Not very certain that it will be spiritually healthier ... but it will be far less chaotic and perhaps even safer!

If only we loved God with the type of fervor displayed by our neighbors and co-citizens on Black Friday and rushed to the Church with such energy for the peaceful and prayerful services of this sacred Season!

What a witness to a spiritually-starving world we could make! But, alas, just when will that happen? Then again, with God all things are possible!

Can't Get No Satisfaction... Thank God!

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,


This is an older meditation, but I thought that it would have a certain resonance since we chanted the Akathist Hymn "Glory to God For All Things" on Tuesday evening as we acknowledged the Church New Year beginning on September 1. I say that because there are certain thoughts expressed in the Hymn that led me to write this particular meditation.

"My soul thirsts for God, for the living God." —Psalm 42:2

"I can't get no satisfaction" —The Rolling Stones

"We thank God for the gift of "blessed dissatisfaction!"

"I (Can't Get No) Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones must be considered one of the great all-time "classics" of the pop/rock music world.

I remember it well from the Summer of 1965. With its driving guitar riff and raspy-voiced lyrics giving a kind of pop-articulation to the disaffection of the lonely and alienated urbanite who, try as he might, just cannot succeed at "satisfying" the material and romantic/sexual goals droned into his mind on the radio and TV; this song - regardless of its actual intentions - managed to say something enduring about the "human condition." (I wonder if the various members of the Rolling Stones ever experience any genuine satisfaction after many years of fame and fortune. And while I am at it: "Memory Eternal" to Charlie Watts). 

Be that as it may, a rather odd connection came to me between this song and a verse from "The Akathist of Thanksgiving" that we  sang and chanted for the Church New Year on September 1. In Ikos Six of the akathist, one of the verses in the refrain reads as follows:

Glory to You, Who have inspired in us dissatisfaction with earthly things.

Both the Stones' song and the Orthodox hymn speak of "no satisfaction" or "dissatisfaction." However by "earthly things," the author of this remarkable hymn, does not mean the natural world in which God has placed us. The refrain of Ikos Three makes that abundantly clear:

Glory to You, Who brought out of the earth's darkness diversity of color, taste and fragrance, 
Glory to You, for the warmth and caress of all nature, 
Glory to You, for surrounding us with thousands of Your creatures, 
Glory to You, for the depth of Your wisdom reflected in the whole world ...

 

To the purified eyes of faith, the world around us can be a "festival of life" ... foreshadowing eternal life" (Ikos Two). The "earthly" can lead us to the "heavenly."

"Earthly things" in the context of the Akathist Hymn and the Orthodox worldview expressed in the Hymn, would certainly refer to the very things the Rolling Stones song laments about being absent - material and sexual satisfaction seen as ends in themselves. But whereas the song expresses both frustration and resentment as part of the psychic pain caused by such deprivation, the Akathist Hymn glorifies God for such a blessing! In the light of the insight of the Akathist Hymn, we can thus speak of a "blessed dissatisfaction." The Apostle Paul spoke of a closely-related "godly grief." (On this point, I would imagine that the Apostle Paul and Rolling Stones part company).

This just may prove to be quite a challenge to our way of approaching something like dissatisfaction.

Our usual instinct is to flee from dissatisfaction "as from the plague." Such a condition implies unhappiness, a sense of a lack of success, of "losing" in the harsh game of life as time continues to run out on us; and the deprivation and frustration mentioned above.

Yet, perhaps there does exist something like "blessed dissatisfaction." This wonderful and eloquent entry from Fr. Alexander Elchaninoff's Diary of a Russian Priest supports that contention:

"What is this continual sense of dissatisfaction, of anxiety, which we normally feel within us, save the stifled voice of conscience speaking to us inwardly in the subconscious level, and often contradicting our own will and declaring the untruth that our life is? As long as we live in conflict with the law of light which has been granted us, this voice will not be silent, for it is the voice of God Himself in our soul. On the other hand, that rare feeling of keen satisfaction, of plenitude and joy, is the happiness caused by the union of the divine principle in our soul with the universal harmony and the divine essence of the world."

 

Why should we tolerate the condition of dissatisfaction when limitless means of achieving "satisfaction" are at our disposal? To escape from a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, don't people resort to alcohol, drugs and sex as desperate forms of relief? Or unrestrained and massive consumer spending? And we should not eliminate "religion" as one of those means of escape.

If those means fail, then there is always therapy and medication as more aggressive means to relieve us of this unendurable feeling.

Sadly, many learn "the hard way," that every ill-conceived attempt to eliminate dissatisfaction through "earthly things" only leads to a further and deeper level of this unsatiable affliction. Sadder still, there are many who would "forfeit their soul/life" just to avoid the bitter taste of dissatisfaction!

If the living God exists as we believe that He does, then how could we not feel dissatisfaction at His absence from our lives? What could possibly fill the enormous space in the depth of our hearts that yearns for God "as a hart longs for flowing streams." (Ps. 42:1)

It is as if when people "hear" the voice of God calling them - in their hearts, their conscience, through another person, a personal tragedy - they reach over and turn up the volume so as to drown out that call.

If we were made for God, then each person has an "instinct for the transcendent" (I recall this term from Fr. Alexander Schmemann), that can only be suppressed at an incalculable cost to our very humanity.

In His infinite mercy, the Lord "blesses" us with a feeling of dissatisfaction so that we do not foolishly lose our souls in the infinitesimal pseudo-satisfactions that come our way. Therefore, we thank God for the gift of "blessed dissatisfaction!"

When we realize that we "can't get no satisfaction," then we have approached the threshold of making a meaningful decision about the direction of our lives. The way "down" can lead to that kind of benign despair that characterizes the lives of many today. The way "up" to the One Who is "enthroned above the heavens" and the Source of true satisfaction.

The Rolling Stones uncovered the truth of an enduring condition that we all must face and must "deal with." I am not so sure about the solution they would ultimately offer ... but in their initial intuition they proved to be very "Orthodox!"

It was good seeing many of you at the service so that the remembrance of God and thankfulness for the glorious gift of life was further planted in our minds and hearts.