The End is Approaching

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Here is a "Lenten thought" from outside the Tradition, but one that expresses the Tradition very well:

"One should go easy on smashing other people's lies. Better to concentrate on one's own."  (Iris Murdoch)

_____


The End is Approaching

The Great Canon that we chant at the beginning of Lent (and again during the Fifth Week) was written by St. Andrew of Crete.  He lived for many years as a monk in the Holy Land, but eventually became the Archbishop of Crete and died in the year 712.  Many hymns and canons that are used to this day in the Church are attributed to him, but his greatest and most enduring work is the Great Canon of Repentance which has nourished countless generations of Orthodox Christians in our understanding of true repentance.  Actually, St. Andrew wrote the Great Canon for his own personal edification, as a heartfelt expression of his own desire to repent as fully as possible before his life drew to a close. Because of its depth, the sincerity of its compunctionate  tone, the incredible knowledge of the Bible on display, and its beauty of expression; the Great Canon has entered into the Church's communal life as a spiritual and theological masterpiece of liturgical poetry.  Even though the pronoun "I" is used throughout the Canon, it is often  meant to express each person's experience of the process of repentance; something like a collective "I." Thus, as you read the Canon there is hardly a hint as to its author, but there is at least a few "autobiographical" troparia that allow us a glimpse of St. Andrew himself.  We heard this particular and rather poignant troparion yesterday evening in Ode One of the Canon:

O Savior, do not cast me down to hell, even though in old age I lie at Your gate empty of virtue. But in Your love for mankind forgive my sins before I die.  (Wednesday evening, Ode 1)

So apparently, St. Andrew wrote the Canon near the end of his life, or at least when he considered himself to be of "old age."  He did not want to rest assured of his own virtue as he approached death and judgment.  Rather, he continued to repent and seek forgiveness of his sins. For anyone who may be creeping up on "old age" - or for anyone who is at least willing to admit that the years are "adding up" a bit - there are other "autobiographical" troparia that encourage us  also to take a sober look at our lives as they begin to inexorably "push on" toward the inevitable end:

The inward being is wounded, my body is weak; my spirit is ill, and the word is powerless. Life is giving way to death and the end is near.  What shall I do when the Judge comes and I must stand before Him?  (Monday evening, Ode 9)

The end is approaching, O my soul - it is approaching!  So why do you not care or prepare yourself for it?  Arise!  The time is short!  The Judge already stands at the door.  Life is vanishing like a dream - so why do you continue living in vanity?  (Monday evening, Ode 4)

And then there is the Kontakion that is sung while we all kneel:

My soul, my soul arise!  Why are you sleeping? The end is approaching and you will be confounded.  Awake then, and we watchful, that you may be spared by Christ God, Who is everywhere present and fills all things. (Kontakion following Ode 6)

Anyone of us, of course, who is more self-assured than St. Andrew is of his or her own virtue - or who is pretty much satisfied with one's standing before God - may find these pleas to God a bit overwrought.  However, if that is the case, we may want to think hard on this troparion:

I have no tears, no repentance, no compunction - O my God and Savior, grant these to me! (Wednesday evening, Ode 2)

Does all of this "remembrance of death" (which, however one may react, sounds quite honest and realistic) mean that St. Andrew believes that he is a sinner in the hands of an angry God?  Is he in despair over his salvation?  That is hardly the case, because the living Tradition that St. Andrew lived in and imparted to others as a bishop and hymnographer does not begin with such a theological presupposition.  For St. Andrew, and for all Orthodox Christians, Christ is our merciful Savior, the One who awaits our repentance and love and "who desires all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth."  (I TIM. 2:4)  Ultimately, what is on display in the Great Canon is St. Andrew's overwhelming sense of the limitless love of Christ.  The Canon is an expression of his great sorrow over his own sin in the light of the limitless love of Christ. And he knows, in the depths of his heart that Christ will forgive him if he truly repents. This is expressed with great warmth and assurance throughout the Canon:

You are the sweet Jesus, You are my Creator: in You, O Savior, I shall be justified.  (Monday evening, Ode 3)

You offered Your Body and Blood for all, O crucified Word, that I might be renewed and washed. You surrendered Your Spirit to the Father that I might be brought to Him. (Wednesday evening, Ode 4)

I know You as a calm haven from the storm of transgressions, O Christ my Savior.  Protect and deliver me from the depths of my innermost sin and despair. (Wednesday evening, Ode 6)

Here is a person who spent his life concentrating on his relationship with Christ and who bore the fruits of that life through his equal assurance of the great love of Christ.

Whether or not we are facing "old age" and are aware that the "end is approaching" like St. Andrew, we are always capable of expressing sorrow for our sins and thereby our deeply- felt  need to repent.  We thank God for St. Andrew's Great Canon of Repentance, which is a great gift to the Church down the ages.

'Now is the Acceptable Time' ~ Lent as 'Beginning'

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

We have had excellent attendance for the first two parts of the Great Canon of Repentance on Monday and Tuesday evening of this first week of Great Lent.  That includes some of our Church School age children and young adults.  I encourage others of you to be present either this evening at 7:00 p.m. or tomorrow evening.  And then there is the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts on Friday evening at 6:00 p.m.  I believe that a "good beginning" to Lent can go a long way toward a "good ending."

It certainly may seem premature - if not a bit ludicrous -  to already allude to the end of Great Lent.  Having just embarked on this journey, the end is not quite yet in sight! But I bring this up with a pastoral purpose in mind.  I have, in previous years, raised the question:  "Is there life after Lent?"  With this question I am asking whether or not there is something good and wholesome that we practiced in Great Lent that we can take with us once the season is over.  If so, then it may be then that we can speak of a "good lent." Yet, how often do we immediately go back to our earlier patterns of living as if Great Lent never really occurred?  Or, as if Lent was some kind of pious interlude  interrupting our "normal" way of living to which we eagerly return as we wipe our brow in gratitude that the ordeal is over!  Obviously, we bring the fasting element to Great Lent to an end.  But there is hopefully more to the season than adherence to fasting rules.

Bearing this type of approach and experience in mind, I would offer the following pastoral and practical advice:  Is there some practice, habit or attitude in your life right now that you very much desire to eliminate from your life?  Or, to pose that question with a bit more bluntness:  Is there any such thing in your life that you should eliminate from your life as a Christian?  Something sinful or at least something that undermines your relationship with God and your neighbor?  With some effort, determination and focus - nourished by prayer, humility and a reliance on the grace of God - why not let this Lent be the "beginning of the end" of that practice, habit or attitude that you desire/need to overcome once and for all? Then there would indeed be "life after Lent!"  Taking lent seriously forces us to come to terms with our sinful inclinations, as well as serve as the appointed opportunity to face up to and to struggle against those very inclinations with their eradication in mind as a goal.

If we look to our profound spiritual tradition in the Church, we know how the great saints of the past catalogued the more universal and characteristic "bad habits" that either tempt or actually afflict us to one degree or another.  These "bad habits"/vices the Fathers called "the passions" (Gk. ta pathi)  The presence of the passions would preclude the possibility of obtaining "purity of heart." The classic list of the eight passions, first drawn up by Evagrius of Pontus (+399), called the great "psychologist of the desert," include:

1.  gluttony
2.  lust
3.  avarice
4.  anger
5.  dejection
6.  spiritual listlessness/lassitude (the technical word behind this being akedia )
7.  vanity
8.  pride

A certain "self-love" - here understood as an unhealthy self-absorption or self-regard - is the "mother of the passions" according to Evagrius. We hear about these passions and their harmful spiritual effect in the Great Canon of Repentance:

A soiled garment clothes me - one shamefully stained with blood flowing from a life of passion and love of fleshly things.

I fell beneath the weight of the passions and the corruption of my flesh, and from that moment has the Enemy had power over me.

Instead of seeking poverty of spirit, I prefer a life of greed and self-gratification; therefore, O Savior, a heavy weight hangs from my neck. (Tuesday evening, Ode 2)

Rhetoric or reality?  You have to decide for yourself as you stand quietly in church as these troparia (verses) from the Canon ring out. 

Actually, these passions begin as "thoughts" (Gk. logismos/oi) that assail the mind.  (So that same list may at times be called the "eight thoughts").  When entertained and acted upon, the thought enters and lodges itself in the heart, and once rooted there it is a difficult process to uproot that particular passion.  What may begin as a temptation from the evil one, will eventually become an ingrained action or attitude that has gained control over us.  We are then basically "programmed" to return to that thought or action as our will to resist has become thoroughly weakened.  Thus, what is an "unnatural" - because sinful - passion seems to be quite "natural" to us after endless repetition!  In our contemporary vocabulary, these very passions are called addictions, though the term addiction is usually used for more concrete vices such as alcohol or drug abuse.  Yet, according to our spiritual tradition, we can become as "addicted" to gluttony, avarice or pride as others may be to alcohol or drugs!  The ultimate goal is not elimination of the passions, but their replacement with the virtues.  Can gluttony and lust be replaced by self-control? Avarice by generosity?  Anger by patience or even meekness? Vanity and pride by humility?  Warfare against the passions - the negative way of describing this struggle -  is simultaneously an effort to acquire the virtues, a more positive way of describing the same struggle.

Is there anything in that list that we need to work on overcoming?  The very universality of the list makes that a real possibility!  Is anyone just sick and tired of doing the same thing over and over again, even when we acknowledge that it is either sinful or detrimental to our own lives or relationships - beginning, again, with God and neighbor?  Only then, however, will we seriously enter into the battle against a certain passion.

Of course, if that all sounds a bit "heavy," or as something that will have to be approached professionally or therapeutically, there may be many simple but very human and positive actions and attitudes that we may desire to embrace beginning with Great Lent and continuing with beyond the forty days and Pascha.  Acts of kindness, concern and compassion, perhaps.  Do we need to visit a sick friend or call a housebound aunt on the phone more often than we are now doing?  Do we need to work at becoming a more positive presence in our work environment? Can we work at becoming more considerate toward others?  Are we as charitable or willing to share our resources with others as we can be - especially with the poor and dispossessed?  Do we need to change our attitude toward people we disagree with ideologically or politically?  Do we still retain vestiges of racial, social or ethnic prejudices that are based on nothing but worn-out stereotypes?  With a certain focus on our "church lives," can we begin to read the Scriptures with greater regularity?  Or practice charity, prayer and fasting with greater care? Finally, are we interested in becoming a decent human being that just may enrich the lives of others around us?!

As the Apostle Paul wrote:  "Now is the acceptable time."  Great Lent can become the "beginning of the end" of a way of life we need to abandon; and the "beginning of the beginning" of the acquisition of the virtues we desire to embrace and practice.  All this "through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit."  I therefore believe that there is indeed abundant "life after Lent!"

As We Start the Fast Together . . .

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Perhaps I can briefly summarize a few points from yesterday morning's homily here as the First Week of Great Lent begins.

• Great Lent is a journey toward Holy Week and the Paschal mystery of the Death and Resurrection of Christ.  Essentially, Great Lent is about Christ and our relationship with Him, a relationship that always need constant vigilance and renewal.   Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are tools that assist us in growing closer to Christ.

• A spiritually-healthy approach to and attitude toward Great Lent is also essential.  This is expressed quite well by Fr. Thomas Hopko at the beginning of his book The Lenten Spring:

The Church welcomes the Lenten spring with a spirit of exultation.  She greets the time of repentance with the expectancy and enthusiasm of a child entering into a new and exciting experience.  The tone of the church services is one of brightness and light.  The words are a clarion call to a spiritual adventure, the summons to a spiritual feat.  There is nothing gloomy here, nothing dark or remorseful, masochistic or morbid, anxious or hysterical, pietistic or sentimental.  The Lenten spring in the Church is one of splendor and delight.  It breathes with the exhilaration of those girding up to "fight the good fight, for the One who loves them and has given Himself to them for the sake of their salvation. — The Lenten Spring, p. 9.

• Thinking that Great Lent is about repressing our desires - or even "sacrificing" something - is probably caused by the fact that we are venturing outside of our "comfort  zones" that are based on an established pattern of living that has become habitual.  Great Lent is not oppressive, but liberating. But moving toward liberation can very well be painful, at least initially.  It is an ascetical effort that demands self-discipline.

• Every household must work out a "domestic strategy" for observing Great Lent.  The fasting rules are rigorous, so each household needs to accommodate these rules to its own peculiar capacity.  Straining ourselves beyond that capacity does not serve a good purpose.  It can only lead to frustration and irritation.  However, we should still try and maximize our efforts, as minimalism is ineffective. This goes far beyond how we fast from certain foods and drinks.  We might just ask ourselves how much time we spend on empty entertainment - and what can replace it. The point is to create a "lenten atmosphere" in the  home, an awareness that we are engaged in meaningful task as a household.

• Great Lent is a communal effort ultimately.  We are in this together. We embark upon Great Lent as a community.  We offer mutual support to each other through prayer, a willingness to help others in need, spiritually-healthy conversation - even the sharing of recipes!  Our own personal efforts are strengthened when we realize that others are engaged in the same struggles.  We must respect the fact that our fellow parishioners are observing Great Lent, without judging others or comparing ourselves with them.

• In hearing the chosen Gospel reading for Forgiveness Sunday (MATT. 6:14-21), we realize that our Lenten efforts are meaningless unless we are willing to forgive others their offenses against us - real or imagined.   That forgiveness may be a slow processes in some cases, but it must remain our ultimate goal.  To choose not to forgive is to live contrary to the spirit of the Gospel.

Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote of "taking Lent seriously." Serious is not synonymous with gloomy.  The Fathers speak of a "bright sadness" that captures the need to repent of our sins, but also the utter joy of experiencing the forgiveness of God.  May that be our common experience.

Ascetic Love and our 'Domestic Strategy' for Great Lent

Dear Parish Faithful,

Hopefully, everyone has worked out a "domestic strategy" for "taking Lent seriously," to use Fr. Alexander Schmemman's phrase.  The point is that we somehow know that it is Lent in our homes - that we somehow "feel" a change of atmosphere reflected in our various practices that are meant to increase and intensify charity, prayer and fasting. 

Here is another approach that I read in church on Sunday, and would like to share with everyone who may have not been there.  In a chapter entitled "Ascetic Love" in his book Lenten Meditations, the Greek Orthodox writer Vasilios Papavasiliou offers this practical advice that can offer a concreteness and concern for the neighbor that will deepen our ascetical efforts.  This passage also looks back to the Last Judgment on last Sunday.  Is some form of this practice possible among us in our own homes and community?

We abstain from food not simply as an exercise in ascesis and self-control, but out of love for others. Let us suppose that I normally spend x amount of money a week on meat.  That amount I have not spent during the weeks of Lent I spend not on substitutes - not on gorging myself on delicacies which, while they may fall within the prescribed rules of fasting, betray its spirit and purpose.  Nor do I spend it on other pointless luxuries I could easily do without - be it a film I want to see or a pair of fancy shoes to add to my already vast collection. Rather, I give the money to those who do not have food or drink or clothing or shelter.  I give it to those who are in need.

Thus we see that our ascesis, if it is to be any kind of defense on the day of judgment, must be as ascesis of love.  We deprive ourselves in order to have more to give to others.  And if I as an individual am able through my own self-deprivation to help the life of another human being, imagine what a whole community, a whole nation, even the whole world could do if it observed such a fast!

Thus it is not a coincidence that Meatfare Sunday is the Sunday of the Last Judgment. We will be judged above all by our love - real, practical love - a love that is manifested in deeds and in sacrifice, not a timid, cowardly love that never dares to take a step beyond feelings and sentimentality.

From Lenten Meditations by Vasilios Papavasiliou, pp. 29-30

Training for an Imperishable Wreath

Updated Feb. 17, 2014

Dear Parish Faithful, & Friends in Christ,

"An athlete is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules."  (II TIM. 2:5)

Patriarch Kirill of Moscow with Russian Olympic athletes in Sochi.

I must say that I enjoy watching the Olympic Games - summer or winter - when they make their way into our homes according to their respective four-year cycles.  In fact, I believe that at this point in the current Winter Olympics, I am fast approaching the status of official "couch potato." The level of competition combined with the skill levels of the athletes is often compelling, and there is no shortage of personal dramas being literally "played out" before our admiring or even reverential gaze.  Heroes are made and/or unmade in the "twinkling of an eye."  Unknowns become household names overnight. For this year's Winter Olympics in Sochi, the Russian backdrop to the games also has its attractions - if not distractions.  I trust we will not be horrified by a terrorist attack during the games, but there remains a certain lingering tension over that possibility.  However terrorists assess their "accomplishments," there is no doubt that they have won a certain psychological victory of sorts by making "terrorist vigilance" a noticeable part of everyday life.  Returning to the Russian backdrop to the Games - and as interludes between events - I have already enjoyed short features on the trans-Siberian railway (it covers seven time zones in a week); the production and distribution of Russian vodka (no mention of Russia's very high rate of alcoholism); the manufacturing of Matryoshka dolls (a veritable industry); and a glimpse into the competitive, disciplined and graceful world of Russia's justifiably renowned ballet (somehow we have all heard of the Bolshoi).  Perhaps we will be taken into a large beautiful Russian Orthodox cathedral before the Games have ended.  (Many of the Russian athletes make the sign of the Cross right before their performance as you may have noticed.)

It is impossible not to admire the dedication of these athletes to their respective sports. As you get older, you can only further admire such youthful ardor and the simple drive that these young athletes manifest in their pursuit of excellence. But then again, none of us can probably appreciate the time, energy, and expense (the exception being the parents who at least initially are footing the bills and consuming a great deal of their own lives) that must go into the making of an Olympic athlete.  In our admiring response to their dedication we, with them, somehow vicariously experience the "thrill of victory," and the "agony of defeat."  After many years of watching the Olympic Games, I am not quite certain what provokes the stronger reaction - watching the exaltation of the victor as he/she finally attain a place on the medals podium; or the crushing disappointment of the vanquished as he/she must absorb the finality of realizing that it will not be after those years of intense preparation.  The one makes you smile, but other makes you wince.

The ancient world that the Gospel entered as a wholly new perception of reality was no stranger to such Games. Indeed, it was the ancient world that gave us the Olympic Games, from the time of the first recorded Olympic Games (776 B.C.) to their various offshoots in the Greco-Roman of the first Christian century.  Our contemporary Games were meant to revive this ideally friendly competition on a wider international basis. It is that same idealism that would hopefully create an atmosphere of greater understanding, mutual toleration  and respect among the participating nations:  sports as a unifying principle that transcends ideological differences (how did that one work out?). It was the ancient Games that gave the Apostle Paul the metaphors that he used to capture something of the discipline and testing of the "spiritual life" that one embraced when accepting the Gospel.  If an athlete must "train" hard, then so must the disciple of Christ.  If an athlete must be totally dedicated to his/her sport, then so must the Christian be totally and whole-heartedly be devoted to Christ and the Gospel.  If an athlete must shed "blood, sweat and tears" for winning a victory wreath or crown, then so must the Christian be willing to suffer for the sake of the eternal Kingdom of God.  Mixing his metaphors of both running and boxing in the ancient world, the Apostle Paul made this point is a compelling and poignant manner:

Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.  They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Well, I do not run aimlessly, I do not box as one beating the air; but I pommel my body and subdue it, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. (I COR. 9:24-27)

As a disciple of the Risen Lord, the Apostle knew that the Christian pursuit is so much greater than that of the athlete: how can one compare a "perishable wreath" to an "imperishable wreath?"  But he also knew that it just may entail the shedding of "blood, sweat, and tears" for its accomplishment.  The Christian could (and should) never expect to receive the public adulation of the athlete.  The disciple of Christ should not expect to be raised up on a pedestal. He or she was laboring as the "leaven of the world," in a hidden manner - unless or until  they would have to publicly affirm their faith in Christ before the magistrates who were persecuting them in the ancient world:  "Indeed all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (II TIM. 3:12).  What a Christian can expect in today's world is to be labeled a "zealot" or even a "fanatic" for precisely attempting to give one's life for the sake of Christ as the athlete does for his goals. The famous medievalist Helen Waddell, when describing the life of the Desert Fathers, had this to say about that charge:

A man must follow his star.  We do not grudge it that these should have left wife and children and lands and reason for the flick of a needle on the speedometer or "a still life of a pair of old shoes."  The only field of research in which a man may make no sacrifices, under pain of being called a fanatic, is God.

Serious Christians may just have to accept that charge.  (It will hurt all the more if it comes from within the Christian community, as the more zealous may be reproached by the more indifferent members).

The approaching Great Lent will be that season par excellence for embracing some discipline and "training in godliness."  Spiritual "couch potato" status will not work.  We will have to "lift our drooping hands and strengthen our weak knees ... so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather healed." (cf. HEB. 12:12-13)  From the same epistle, the stadium, the race and the cheering crowd are powerfully evoked in order to inspire our efforts, regardless of the cost:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.  (HEB. 12:1-2)

If our contemporary athletes inspire us to an imitation of these things, then so be it.  However, if we do not wish to be "disqualified" then we must willingly embrace the struggles yet to come.