Great Lent - The Third Day

 

Dear Parish Faithful, This morning, I am sharing with the parish a poem written by our own parishioner, Spencer Settles. Here is a fine example of creatively working with an ancient text from one of our great Church Fathers - St. John Chrysostom. We receive exhortations galore all through the Fast - clothing those exhortations in the flesh and blood of our embodied existence is the real challenge!    You fast, you say? We say of Lent, “It’s fasting season.” It’s true, we limit drink and food. But lest we miss the greater reason And stoke within ourselves a mood And countenance of deprivation, Let’s hear Chrysostom’s exhortation: You fast, you say? Well, prove it then! Give alms to help the poor of men. Your love from foes are you restraining? No, reconcile before you part! And let not envy grip your heart If friends you see in honor gaining. And comely women, pass them by – Let fasting be for mouth and eye! For ear and feet and hands – all members That of the body do comprise The one who fasts each day remembers, And each one, training, says “Be wise! My hands: from greed and from loose living Now flee. Be rather busy giving! My feet: run not to what is wrong But aim for that for which I long. My eyes: seek not what stirs the passions – Those things that sparkle, awe, and bind The one who looks without a mind That loves not much the worldly fashions.” For if our fast is thus declared, Our hearts for Pascha come prepared!

Great Lent - The Second Day

 

LENTEN MEDITATION - Day II

" ... in fasting must not only obey the rule against gluttony in regard to food, but refrain from every sin so that, while fasting, the tongue may also fast, refraining from slander, lies, evil talking, degrading one's brother or sister, anger and every sin committed by the tongue. One should also fast with the eyes, that is, not looking at vain things ... not looking shamefully or fearless an anyone. The hands and feet should also be kept from every evil action. When one fasts through vanity or thinking that he is achieving something especially virtuous, he fasts foolishly and soon begins to criticize others and to consider himself something great. A man who fasts wisely ... wins purity and comes to humility ... and proves himself a skillful builder."

St. Dorotheos of Gaza (6th c.)

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Another classic text from St. Dorotheos who is intent upon expanding the meaning and practice of lenten fasting to include all of the senses. Our eyes, together with our feet and hands - not to mention the tongue - can continue in unseemly deeds as we abstain from certain food and drink. As "the world" claims that we are no more than our bodies and its functions - and that would include the mind - then these temptations are ubiquitous and endless. In other words, there is nothing new under the sun!

 

Great Lent - The First Day

 

A Word About the Great Fast

St. Theodore the Studite

What is this struggle? Not to walk according to one’s own will. This is better than the other works of zeal and is a crown of martyrdom; except that for you there is also a change of diet, multiplication of prostrations and increase of psalmody all in accord with the established tradition from of old. And so I ask, let us welcome gladly the gift of the fast, not making ourselves miserable, as we are taught, but let us advance with cheerfulness of heart, innocent, not slandering, not angry, not evil, not envying; rather peaceable toward each other, and loving, fair, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits; breathing in seasonable stillness, since hubbub is damaging in a community; speaking suitable words, since too unreasonable stillness is profitless; yet above all vigilantly keeping watch over our thoughts, not opening the door to the passions, not giving place to the devil.

We are lords of ourselves; let us not open our door to the devil; rather let us keep guard over our soul as a bride of Christ, unwounded by the arrows of the thoughts; for thus we are able to become a dwelling of God in Spirit. 

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What I find rather amazing about this passage from St. Theodore (+826), is that as an abbot of a  famous monastery in Constantinople, he was by all accounts a very austere  ascetic. He mentions fasting, prostrations and psalmody almost as an afterthought, or simply to remind his fellow monastics that those practices are naturally "built in" to the lenten season. His description of a community free of the many divisive passions that can undermine any community, is so applicable to the setting of any contemporary Orthodox parish, that his exhortation could come from the hand of any parish priest encouraging his parishioners to treat one another with Christian love and respect. 

No matter what the setting, the same temptations to live according to the "old Adam" are ever present. Our goal is to follow the "new (and last) Adam," Christ.

 

Comments on 'The Prodigal Son - Ending Unresolved?'

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

I will share a few responses to the meditation that I sent out yesterday about the "openness" of the parable of the Prodigal Son. This one is from Spencer Settles:

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Thanks for those thoughts on the parable, Father! The one thought that came to me after I read your email regards a similarity to another biblical account. The younger son, in his moment of repentance, expresses a sentiment much like that of the Syro-Phoenician woman who petitions Jesus to heal her daughter. She says, in response to Jesus’s statement that it is not right to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs, “Yes, Lord, yet even the little dogs under the table eat from the children’s crumbs.” (Mark 7:28). In Matthew’s telling of that event Jesus praises the woman’s faith. The younger son in Luke’s parable says something that seems very similar to me: that he would gladly become a hired servant in his father’s house, where the servants never go hungry. There’s that same extreme humility expressed: “Never mind privilege, as long as I can BE there. As long as I can eat, I do not need to be honored. I will be a dog. I will be a servant.” 

That, I think, is evidence of true faith and true repentance. Of course, we do not know whether the son would have continued in this humility, as you pointed out. But I like to think that a moment of such genuine humility has a powerful effect on the heart of a person. And the reception he got! How it must have bewildered him. The father disregards his rehearsed statement - practically interrupts him - and begins calling for a robe, a ring, a feast! As anyone who has ever received love or praise in a moment of intense awareness of one’s own weakness knows, such a thing is incredibly moving and humbling. What might otherwise “puff up” will, in such a moment, scald and sear in the most powerful way. 

Anyway, that was the thought that came to me, so I thought I’d share it.

In Christ,

Spencer Settles

The Parable of the Prodigal Son - Ending Unresolved?

 

 

Dear Parish Faithful, 

Of the many intriguing points about the Parable of the Prodigal Son, one of them is the fact of just how "open" it is in the end. After reading of these three wonderfully etched characters of the compassionate father, and of the two sons - one prodigal and the other unforgiving - we find ourselves facing a real dose of uncertainty when the parable is completed. 

Sequentially, we heard of the remarkable "resurrection" (anastas in the text) of the prodigal son once he "comes to himself," and literally throws himself before the father whom he callously abandoned to pursuit his fortune and his misguided understanding of both independence and pleasure. Then, we heard of the compassionate father who responds with an outpouring of forgiveness and love, as he refuses to react with a predictable offense at his son's misadventures when he returns seeking mercy. And finally, we hear of the even more predictable response of the other son who, almost choking with resentment at the mercy shown his unacknowledged brother (a relationship that he does not admit to), as he bitterly lashes out at his father's seemingly blissful indifference to his life of toil in pursuit of fair recognition of his filial piety. The poor father has two very difficult sons to deal with, and he does so with an amazing patience and loving admonition. The image of our heavenly Father as revealed by Jesus finds its truest expression in the father of the parable.

But a parable is not a fairy tale, and though the final sentence is undoubtedly positive and even echoes the very core of the Gospel: "Your brother was lost, and is now found," that is not the same as hearing: "And they lived happily ever after." It is not even equivalent to hearing: "All's well that ends well." Hence, the "openness" of the parable's ending is that we cannot assume with any certainty that the unforgiving brother experienced a "change of mind" (the meaning of the Gk. word for repentance - metanoia). The possibility remains that his resentment may have continued to smolder even if he went into the party and partook of the fatted calf and appeared to "make merry." There is no real indication of his final response. 

And the prodigal son? We left him humbled and on his knees before his father; perhaps filled with jubilation at his "reversal of fortune" as he now rejoices in a sumptuous feast prepared for him shortly after his desperate willingness to even eat the pods thrown to the pigs. But was his repentance permanent or ephemeral? Did he suffer another bout of restlessness and instability? Did he "hit the road" yet again?

Christ gives us a remarkable glimpse of the gift of salvation and of a "fresh start" in this parable. Of this there is no doubt, as many see this as the "parable of all parables;" the one that comes readily to mind when the heart of the Gospel is reflected upon: the salvation of sinners by a merciful God. And yet we can also say that Christ was a "realist," and that he leads us into the deepest recesses of the Gospel, while simultaneously acknowledging the barriers presented to a sinful humanity to actually repent: habit, hard-heartedness, indifference and resentment, to mention a few of the more obvious sins. 

We know how we want the parable to end, as our better intuition seeks reconciliation and deep communion between human beings made in God's image and likeness. But the "openness" in the end, without an assurance of that longed for "happy ending" reveals the contingency of all life within the theater of history and its demands for constant choices. Repentance must be sustained once embraced - an ever-deepening process of "turning around" and "changing one's mind" so that we seek first the Kingdom of God and all righteousness, leading to the human transformation that that implies.

Again, Christ offers us an unforgettable image of repentance, compassion, and even the "no exit" of cold indifference. This openness is perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the Lord's incomparable parables.

Please feel free to share any comments or further insights into this "parable of parables."