A Saint for Leap Year Only?

 

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

 

If the year 2021 was a leap year, then today would be February 29. As it is, it is actually March 1. With this in mind, I would like to share a wonderful legend from our spiritual tradition that recognizes the usual non-appearance of February 29:

A popular Russian legend tells us how St. Nicholas and St. Cassian were once sent from Paradise upon a visit to earth. On their journey they met a poor peasant who had got his wagon, with a loud of hay upon it, stuck deep in the mud and was making fruitless efforts to get his horses on. 

 

 'Let's go and give the good fellow a hand,' said St. Nicholas 

 'Not I; I am keeping out of it,' replied St. Cassian, 'I don't want to get my vestments dirty.'   

'Well, wait for me,' said St. Nicholas, 'or go on without me if you like,' and plunging without hesitation into the mud he vigorously assisted the peasant in dragging his wagon out of the rut.   

When he had finished the job and caught his companion up he was all covered in filth; his vestments were torn and soiled and looked like a beggar's rags. St. Peter was amazed to see him arrive at the gate of Paradise in this condition. 

 'I say! Who ever got you into that state?' he asked. 

 St. Nicholas told his story. 

 'And what about you? asked St. Peter, turning to St. Cassian. 'Weren't you with him in this encounter?' 

 'Yes, but I don't meddle in things that are no concern of mine, and I was especially anxious not to get my beautiful vestments dirty.' 

 'Very well,' said St. Peter, 'you, St. Nicholas, because you were not afraid of getting dirty in helping your neighbor out of a difficulty, shall for the future have two feasts a year, and you shall be reckoned the greatest of saints after me by all the peasants of Holy Russia. And you, St. Cassian, must be content with having  nice clean vestments; you shall have your feast day in the leap year only, once every four years.'   

 

An effective story! However, the Church has been more lenient with St. John Cassian, since his feast day is transferred to February 28, whenever it is not a leap year, as was the case yesterday.

Actually, St. John Cassian (c. 365-c. 435) is one of the greatest of the Church's teachers on what we call "the spiritual life." He was born in ancient Dacia (present day Romania) and eventually traveled extensively throughout the Holy Land, spending time especially in Bethlehem. He eventually made his way to Egypt, where he sat at the feet of some of the greatest of the Desert Fathers, absorbing their teaching. St. John is one of the founders of Western monasticism, for his final move was to ancient Gaul, where he established monastic communities in Marseilles and the region of Provence. Once settled there, he wrote two highly influential books in Latin - The Institutions and The Conferences. In this latter book, he interprets the words of the Syrian and Egyptian desert dwellers, in the process deeply enriching the monastic movements in the West. In the words of the historian Owen Chadwick: "Like the Rule of St. Benedict, his work was a protection against excess and a constant recall to that primitive simplicity where eastern spirituality met western."

In his First Conference, St. John passes on the words of the Abba Moses from the desert of Egypt (a place called Scete). Here is just a bit of his teaching as presented through the words of St. John Cassian as he spoke to and listened to Abba Moses:

 

"Every art and every discipline has a particular objective, that is to say, a target and an end peculiarly its own. Someone keenly engaged in any one art calmly and freely endures every toil, danger, and loss. ... So, tell me what is the end and the objective which inspires you to endure all these trials so gladly."

"As we have said, the aim of our profession is the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven. But our point of reference, our objective, is a clean heart, without which it is impossible for anyone to reach our target. ... Our objective is purity of heart which he so justly describes as sanctification, for without this the goal cannot be reached. In other words it is as if he said that you have purity of heart for an objective and eternal life as the goal."

"Not to be jealous, not to be puffed up, not to act heedlessly, not to seek what does not belong to one, not to rejoice over some injustice, not to plan evil - what is this and its like if not the continuous offering to God of a heart that is perfect and truly pure, a heart kept free of all disturbance."

From CONFERENCE ONE.

 

Perhaps some things here to mediate upon as we approach Great Lent.

 

There is a wonderful version of this book in translation and with an excellent Introduction by Owen Chadwick, one of greatest Church historians of the 20th c:

 

https://www.amazon.com/John-Cassian-Conferences-Spirituality-Paperback/dp/080912694X/

And for our kindle users:
https://www.amazon.com/Conferences-Desert-Fathers-Illustrated-ebook/dp/B0143Y8C8K/

 

 

'Unsettling Times' - A Contemporary Commentary

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

 

Another Grim Milestone - Watching the news yesterday evening, I learned that we have now surpassed 500,000 American COVID-19 deaths in about one year's time. This is the largest number of deaths in the world by far. This staggering figure surpasses the number of deaths among American soldiers in World Wars I & II and the Vietnam war combined. The news channel I was watching had a moving tribute to a handful of representative citizens who lost their lives. Some of them were quite young. This has been an ongoing American tragedy, and perhaps all we can do is pray with deep respect and conviction: Memory Eternal! And let us all continue to remain vigilant and follow the prescribed guidelines meant for our collective protection.

Domestic Concerns and International Horror - The news flowed into the latest edition of 60 Minutes. The first segment covered the alarming increase of threats of violence toward many American federal judges. They clearly need and deserve more protection.

The second segment covered the murderous and even genocidal reign of Assad in Syria. Some brave Syrian journalists and photographers have chronicled these horrendous crimes and shared them with the Western world. The thousands of saved photographs of tortured victims smuggled out of Syria (and verified by American intelligence as to their authenticity) are a grim record of just how horrible this has been for thousands of Syrians. Whole towns and villages have been ravaged and women and children are among these victims, with many tortured beyond recognition. The goal is to bring Assad to justice "one day" on an international level. The evidence is overwhelming, but the path to that justice will prove to be difficult. 

The Future of QAnon - The third segment of 60 Minutes dealt with the conspiracy theory known as QAnon, discussing its future following its many unfulfilled expectations. It is a troubling movement and since we live in unsettling times it could very well be a potent combination of fear, paranoia, and manipulation that draws people into such a world of fantasy and unreality. Is it too naive to think that practicing Orthodox Christians cannot be susceptible to such conspiracy theories? Probably so, but we have the "tools" on hand that protect us from such delusion. In the Church's spiritual tradition, the Fathers teach us about the virtue of diakrasis. This is usually translated as "discernment," the capacity to discern - and then choose - between good and evil; truth and falsehood; reality and fantasy. Archbishop Kallistos Ware has called diakrasis a "spiritual sense of good taste." The saints claim that the gift of discernment is essential to the spiritual life. Otherwise, we can fall into what is called plani in our spiritual tradition. And this means delusion and fantasy.

Keeping our gaze on the crucified and risen Christ remains absolutely essential. Following the precepts of the Gospel and looking to the saints as icons of sanity and holiness. Confessing our sins and seeking spiritual guidance, reading the Scriptures and receiving the Eucharist. Cultivating the virtues of humility, patience and love. These are the wonderful gifts granted to us in the Church so as to liberate ourselves from the fear, paranoia, and manipulation that threatens us and our children in what are, indeed, unsettling times. I often like to recall the words of Fr. Thomas Hopko: In the Church you can keep your sanity.

Watching the news post-dinner is hardly an opportunity for relaxation in today's deeply troubled world. It reinforces Fr. Roman Braga's urgent plea: "Stay in the boat!"

 

The Gospel Has Turned Things Upside Down

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

We have entered the season of the Triodion, that vast compilation of lenten hymnography gathered together in one book over the centuries that will guide us through the pre-lenten period; and then on through Great Lent and Holy Week; taking us to the very brink of the paschal celebration of the Death and Resurrection of Christ. 

The inspired hymnography of the Triodion interprets the Scriptures in a direct and accessible manner, in the process making it challengingly clear that each person and event from the Scriptures – Old or New Testament; positive or negative – is meant to be applied to our own lives as someone or something to emulate or avoid. The Church always treats the Scriptures as a living Word, not as a chronicle of the past or as an abstract system of belief. This form of concrete realism is indeed more challenging than a presentation of untested ideas. 

Be that as it may, the Triodion opens with the Sunday of the Parable of the Publican and the Pharisee (LK. 18:10-14). In the Orthodox Church, this reading is part of the pre-lenten cycle always prescribed for the fourth Sunday before Great Lent begins. The intentions of the Lord in delivering this parable are clearly expressed in the solemn pronouncement following the parable itself:

 

For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted. (LK. 18:14)

 

The pride and self-righteousness of the Pharisee – he who “exalts himself” – is rather starkly contrasted with the humility and repentance of the Publican – he who “humbles himself.” From these two examples of a revealed interior disposition, it is only the publican who is “justified” according to Christ. With a kind of “folk-wisdom” that would have resonated for his rural flock in early 20th century Serbia, Bishop Nikolai Velimirovich recasts the parable in an earthy story form that seeks to reinforce Christ’s teaching:

 

A man went into the forest to choose a tree from which to make roof beams. And he saw two trees, one beside the other. One was smooth and tall, but had rotted away inside, and the other was rough on the outside and ugly, but its core was healthy. The man sighed, and said to himself: “What use is this smooth, tall tree to me if it is rotten inside and useless for beams? The other one, even if it is rough and ugly, is at least healthy on the inside and so, if I put a bit more effort into it, I can use it for roof-beams for my house.” And, without thinking any more about it, he chose that tree.

 

And just to be certain, Bishop Nikolai drives home the moral point in the following conclusion:

 

So will God choose between two men for His house, and will choose, not the one who appears outwardly righteous, but the one whose heart is filled with God’s healthy righteousness.

 

The Pharisee acted according to the Law, keeping himself free externally from sin, fasting twice a week and paying a tithe on all that he had. How many parish priests secretly wish that that was precisely how their parishioners would live and act!? (For the moment we will not investigate just how parishioners would wish their priests to act). In fact, conventional wisdom would lead up to expect that in such a parable, the Pharisee would be praised precisely for his exact piety; and the publican would serve as a stark reminder of how not to live. 

However, Christ turns all of this conventional wisdom "upside down," for it is the interior orientation of the heart that Christ is most concerned with; and it is here that the Pharisee twisted righteousness into self-righteousness which is basically a form of idolatry – that of the “self.” Do any of us escape that self-destructive trap? If not, then better to admit it, as St. John Chrysostom reminds us:

 

It is evil to sin, though here help can be given; but to sin, and not to admit it – there is no help here.

 

The humility of the publican is perhaps best expressed in a series of short descriptions – unwillingness to look up towards heaven, the beating of the breast, the plaintive cry: “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner” – rather than an intellectually-constructed set of abstract notions. 

Why is it so hard to be humble? Perhaps because it frightens us. But what would the source of this fear possibly be? We fear being taken advantage of, of being used by others, of losing ground in our struggle to not only get ahead, but to survive in a harsh world. We may pay lip-service to humility as Christians, but we act as if deep down we “know better.” Humility is hardly a recommended survival tactic! I would rather doubt that humility is the “stuff” of self-help literature. 

This silent and implicit rejection of the virtue of humility makes a certain amount of sense if we equate humility – wrongfully, I am certain – with weakness, timidity, passivity, fear of conflict, etc. So we usually practice a safe form of humility when that will keep us in our “comfort zone.” But do we know better? Can we actually doubt the strength of a universally-acclaimed Christian virtue without having experienced it ourselves? Certainly we recognize the truth that we literally depend upon the humility of Christ for the gift of salvation! We praise and glorify Christ precisely because of His surpassing humility. Perhaps, then, if we ever made a sustained effort to be humble, we would appraise this essential virtue differently. As the saints teach us:

 

Until a human person achieves humility, he will receive no reward for his works. The reward is given not for the works but for the humility. (St. Isaac the Syrian)

A humble person never falls. Being already lower than any, where can he fall? Vanity is a great humiliation, but humility is a great exalting, honor and dignity. (St. Makarios the Great)

 

The Gospel – based on the scandal of the Cross – has turned many things upside down. In God’s judgment, according to Christ, the proud are humbled and the humbled are exalted. The parable of the Publican and the Pharisee sets this choice before us.

 

Another Word on Zacchaeus

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

 

The biblical scholar Brendan Byrne said this about Zacchaeus: "Maybe he is not such a bad tax collector after all!" Knowing the reputation of biblical publicans - or tax collectors - that may strike us as a surprising statement. But he comes to this possible conclusion based upon a careful reading of the text, specifically Lk. 19:8. That is when Zacchaeus responds to Christ's presence in his home by declaring: "Look, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor and, if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold."  

The Greek behind these words make it perfectly clear that they are spoken in the present tense, and not the future tense ("I will give") found in certain translations, such as the NRSV. In other words, when Jesus saw Zacchaeus in the sycamore tree and then called him down and invited himself to his home, Zacchaeus was already acting in a way consistent with the very precepts of Christ. Of course, we do not know how long this has been going on, or the inspiration behind his own form of benevolence. But the point seems to be that his "conversion" occurred before his dramatic encounter with Jesus. 

When Jesus then says with great solemnity that "Today salvation has come to this house, since he is also a son of Abraham" (v. 9), He is acknowledging that Zacchaeus is acting in such a way that his "wholeness" (one of the meanings of salvation) is already a part of his ongoing personal transformation into a righteous person even though he is a tax collector.  

As an honest an even generous tax collector, Zacchaeus is a genuine son of Abraham. He is not on the outside, as tax collectors were considered to be great sinners; but rather he is on the inside of the People of God. He is included not excluded. "For the Son of man came to seek and to save the lost." (v. 10). Brendan Byrne titled his commentary on the Gospel of Luke, The Hospitality of God. Here is one of the most engaging and convincing signs of God's hospitality now revealed in the presence and teaching of Christ. This is a hospitality that should ever form our own conceptions of "other people," regardless of just how sinful we consider them to be.. 

In this light, the people who need conversion are those described somewhat vaguely as "they," as in "And when they saw it they all murmured, 'He has gone in to be a guest of a man who is a sinner'." (v. 7) Who are these mysterious "they?" The disciples of Christ? Perhaps, but most probably the "crowd" that often witnesses the Gospel events and comments on them off to the side (like the chorus in a Greek tragedy). Thinking and reacting outside of the "new wineskins" of the Gospel, their conventional piety cannot embrace one such as Zacchaeus. We are all too familiar with such conventional thinking, because it just may be our own.

Following up on Brendan Byrne's commentary, he offers a good summary paragraph of where this episode with Zacchaeus has led us:

"If we are right to translate Zacchaeus' statement in the present tense, it would seem that he did not have to undergo a conversion to be included in the community of salvation. Whether he had to undergo a conversion in any sense is not clear. What changes for Zacchaeus is his position with respect to the community. Jesus brings him in from the margins  to the center ... It challenges the community to become more effectively a beachhead of the kingdom, where lost human beings can find welcome and new life in the grasp of a hospitable God." (The Hospitality of God, p. 151-152)

The ones who desperately need a conversion experience are the "they" of this episode,  those who are spiritually circumscribed by a mode of thinking that the Son of man came to challenge and transform. Our post-resurrection communities need to be ever-vigilant to those same challenges and potential transformations. Perhaps something to meditate on as we approach Great Lent.

Ascending with Zacchaeus

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

“Today salvation has come to this house.” (LK. 19:9)

 

According to our liturgical calendar, this coming Sunday is called “Zacchaeus Sunday.” And this particular Sunday is the first “signal” that we are approaching the beginning of Great Lent. Those with the slightest familiarity with the Church’s liturgical cycle know that we are now five Sundays and four weeks away from the Lenten season. Great Lent, therefore, will begin on Monday, March 15. With the four pre-lenten Sundays subsequent to Zacchaeus Sunday, no one can claim that Great Lent caught him/her unaware. We are given ample “warning” for what just may be a seismic shift in lifestyle once we embrace Great Lent.

Zacchaeus Sunday, of course, is based upon the appointed Gospel reading of LK. 19:1-10, and the account there of how Zacchaeus and his household were “saved” by the healing and forgiving presence of Christ. This was in response to the conversion of Zacchaeus and his repentance before the Lord. It is quite interesting that we have the name of this particular publican. Perhaps he was a known member of the earliest post-resurrection Christian community centered in Jerusalem, yet scattered throughout Israel. Be that as it may, this conversion had a strong impact on the early Church as this account was recorded by the evangelist Luke.

In a relatively short, yet very dramatic narrative, St. Luke vividly brings to life not only the encounter between Zacchaeus and Christ, but a series of profoundly interconnected themes that deserve our close attention. These four are clearly essential:

+ desire
+ repentance
+ atonement
+ salvation

Zacchaeus, as Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote in his now classic study Great Lent, is the “man of desire.” It was his burning desire “to see who Jesus was” (19:3), that led him to “climb up into a sycamore tree to see him.” (19:4) Though despised as a publican/tax-collector who defrauded his fellow villagers in Jericho, that position gave him a certain begrudged “prominence,” so the spectacle of Zacchaeus scrambling up the sycamore tree must have exposed him to public ridicule and derision. Zacchaeus’ desire must have been strong indeed to suffer that anticipated reaction. Thus, desire to “see Jesus” can lead anyone to overcome many of his/her human frailties and limitations, as well as the fear of violating any of the accepted rules of social etiquette if necessary. Our human limitations, that sinfulness that leaves us all short of the glory of God (ROM. 3;23), is represented here by Zacchaeus being “small of stature.” Our own sinfulness “cuts us down to size” and leaves us short of the stature of Christ that we are meant to grow into. Desire to change is a first movement on to the path of this desired growth. In hearing or reading this passage, we learn to humble ourselves in the realization that the sinful publican Zacchaeus has attained a stature that we need to emulate: “the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” (EPH. 4:13)

Once Zacchaeus and his household are blessed with the presence of Christ, he openly repents of having “defrauded anyone of anything.” (19:8). His heart has been “wounded” by the obvious love of Christ who, in turn, had to suffer the reproach and murmuring of the witnesses to this event for being “the guest of a man who is a sinner.” (19:7) Jesus had heard this before, but always remained untroubled or “above” such accusations in His messianic role of bringing “good news” to “prostitutes and publicans.” Zacchaeus atones for his former sinfulness by openly declaring “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” (19:8) This is not a legalistic transaction. Zacchaeus is not purchasing the favor of God. Rather, he is moved to a concrete expression of a changed life that goes far beyond mere words or internal disposition.

The unmerited gift of salvation is how Christ “seals” the initial movement of Zacchaeus toward the restoration of his full stature. Salvation – soteria – means wholeness; the wholeness of soul and body that only God can restore. Zacchaeus has received this gift of salvation because, contrary to certain elements then current within Jewish piety that would have left him marginalized as a religious and social pariah, “he also is a son of Abraham.” (19:9) The salvation of Christ is extensive and intensive: universally offered to all of people, and offered to the “worst of sinners.” This is made clear by Christ’s solemn pronouncement that closes the narrative concerning Zacchaeus: “For the Son of man came to seek and save the lost.” (19:10) All – Jew and Gentile, the righteous and the unrighteous – are lost but God “desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (I TIM. 2:4)

In one of the many fine paradoxes - or ironies – found in the Gospels, the despised publican Zacchaeus becomes our teacher: “So the last shall be first, and the first last.” (MATT. 20:16) When that sinks in deeply, we can begin our own ascent to God on the ladder of the virtues, as Zacchaeus ascended on his humble sycamore tree.