Sunday of the Abstention from Meat

Sunday was the Sunday of Abstention from Meat, eight days before the beginning of Lent. The Gospel reading was the Gospel of the Last Judgement, when Jesus Christ will sit on his throne and separate the sheep from the goats. We would like to say a few words about how the Orthodox Christian views the Last Judgement. One way to view the Last Judgement is with indifference. That is not suitable. The next way is with fear. A little fear never hurt anyone. The next way is to await a reward for one's good deeds. The final way is to await the Last Judgement in an expectant attitude of love, as the good and faithful servant. This is the best way.

We have been discussing Elder Porphyrios' remarks in Wounded by Love in the last few posts, so let us remark on how he approached his end. In his testament, he stated that he viewed himself as the worst of sinners. That is remarkable. Elder Porphyrios was a saint and a miracle worker. But, he said, although he was the worst of sinners, he left himself in the hands of the love that Jesus Christ has, resigning himself to the best that Jesus thought for him. Forty days after his death, Elder Porphyrios healed a group of heart patients, the first major miracle after his passing.

We say this because we want to point out that there is a way to view the Last Judgement which is not suitable. This is with an attitude of arrogance: I'm saved, whatever I do, and you're not. What I should do is put you up against the wall until you get saved too. Then we can both be saved whatever we do.

It takes work to arrive at a love which views the Last Judgement—and our own death is our own little Last Judgement—with love and expectancy. We start off with an attitude of fear, working our way through the attitude of the worker expecting his wage, to the attitude of the son waiting to return to his Father and to his Brother Jesus. But to start off with an attitude of arrogance is to short-circuit the whole spiritual journey.

There is another part of the Gospel passage that interests us. This is the very famous statement by Jesus Christ that when he judges he will say to each one that he has done thus and so 'unto me'. And when the nations ask him, when did we do that to you, he will reply, 'As you did unto the least of my brethren, you did unto me.'

Why should it be so? Why should whatever we do unto the least of Jesus' brethren—the most sinful of clergymen, the most nondescript and lowly believer, the most tepid and lukewarm Orthodox Christian—be something that we have done unto Jesus himself? In this is a mystery, the mystery of Christian salvation. For as St John Chrysostom interprets Romans, when we are baptized with an Orthodox baptism, we die with Jesus Christ and shall surely live with him in a resurrection like his. It is our baptism that makes us members of the Body of Christ, whose head is Jesus. What these images convey is the intimate mystical union of Jesus with the Church, and with each believer, so that the body of believers comprises his body; and so that after our death, whatever we have done to the least member of the body of Jesus Christ is reckoned as having been done unto Jesus himself.

We can now see a little more clearly the role of love in our expectation of the Last Judgement: In cultivating true Christian charity—not sentimental affectionateness and backslapping—for each member of the Church, we are cultivating love for our Master, Jesus Christ. Indeed, this is a classic rule of discernment based on the Gospel: when someone comes to you as a Hesychast saint, look at his fruits: does he have real Christian charity? Not just in his words, but in his deeds? We don't look at the clothing of his words, but at the heart of his actions: does he show true Christian charity?

Moreover, in our own lives, do we cultivate true Christian charity towards our brother—and, as St Paul says, towards all men, starting first with the household of faith—or are we merely pretending to pray to our Master: 'Lord Jesus Christ Son of God have mercy on me a sinner.'? If we cultivate true Christian charity, it will spill over into our hearts and we will no longer fear the Last Judgement, but as sinners awaiting the mercy of their Master, we will say: Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus.

Amen.

Sunday of the Tax Collector and the Pharisee

We would like to weave three themes into our thoughts today: a passage from Elder Porphyrios’ Wounded by Love, which work we cited here, the Gospel of the Sunday of the Tax Collector and the Pharisee, and the Gospel of the Feast of the Three Hierarchs, which falls today for those of us who follow the old calendar. The passage from Wounded by Love is this:

Let us Love the Church Greatly

So that we preserve our unity, we will have to be obedient to the Church, to its bishops. Being obedient to the Church, we are obedient to Christ himself. Christ wants us to become one flock with one shepherd.

Let us feel pain for the Church. Let us love it greatly. Let us not accept that others condemn its representatives. On Mt Athos the spirit which I learned was Orthodox, deep, holy, silent, without disputes, without quarrels and without expressions of condemnation. Let us not believe those who condemn the clergy. Even if with our own eyes we see something being done by some cleric, let us not believe it, neither let us think about it, neither let us pass it on to others. The same applies to lay members of the Church and to every man. We are all the Church. Those who accuse the Church on account of the errors of its representatives, supposedly with the goal of helping to correct the Church, are making a big mistake. These people do not love the Church. Neither, surely, Christ. We love the Church then, when we embrace with our prayer each of its members and do whatever Christ does. We sacrifice ourselves; we keep vigil; we do our all—just as He did, who, ‘reviled, did not revile in return; suffering, did not threaten’ (1 Pet. 2, 23).…

(Our translation from the original Greek version, Bios kai Logoi, p. 206.
Compare pp. 91–2 in Wounded by Love.)

To put Elder Porphyrios’ remarks into context, let us look at the Gospel for today.

The Lord spoke this parable: Two men went up to the Temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a Tax Collector. Turned unto himself, the Pharisee prayed these things: ‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men—plunderers, unjust, adulterers—or even like this Tax Collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tithing of everything I acquire.’

And having stood from afar, the Tax Collector did not even want to raise his eyes to Heaven but was striking his breast, saying: ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’

I say to you that this one went down to his house having been justified rather than that one. For every one who raises himself up will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be raised up.

(Luke 18, 10–14.)

Do we here not see the error of those who condemn the clergy? Are they not Pharisees? Are they not raising themselves up as holier than clergy? And—most serious of all—in their arrogance are they not ignoring that it is human to sin and divine to forgive? The sinner can change in Orthodoxy; can become a vessel of election. Moreover, are these people not running the risk of enraging God? For it was the Tax Collector who was justified, not the Pharisee who condemned. If the sinful clergyman repents, will he not be justified? Moreover, if those who condemn the clergy even go so far as to be selective in the evidence they produce of the sins of the clergyman, ignoring mitigating circumstances or changes in the clergyman’s subsequent behaviour, are they not running the risk of bringing the wrath of God down upon themselves? For the clergyman belongs to God. God is not mocked.

Of course, the parable of the Tax Collector and the Pharisee is a key text for an understanding of the Jesus Prayer, of Hesychasm; for an understanding of how it is that we should proceed in Hesychasm. The importance of the parable for Hesychasm is its emphasis on the disposition of the practitioner of the Jesus Prayer: he is to pray the Prayer humbly, really meaning it from the depths of his soul.

The third Gospel text is for the Feast of the Three Hierarchs.

It goes like this:

The Lord said to his disciples: You are the light of the world. It is not possible to hide a city set on a mountain. Men do not light a lamp and set it under a basket, but upon the lamp-stand; and it shines on all those in the house. Let your light thus shine before men that they see your good works and glorify your Father who is in the Heavens. Do not think that I came to dissolve the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to dissolve but to fulfil. Amen, I say to you, amen, until Heaven and earth pass, one iota or one tittle shall not pass from the Law until all things take place. Whoever therefore looses one of these commandments and teaches men thus will be called least in the Kingdom of the Heavens. But whoever does and teaches, this one will be called great in the Kingdom of the Heavens.

(Matthew 5, 14–19.)
(All the you’s and your’s in the Gospel passage are in the plural.)

May the three Hierarchs, St Basil the Great, St Gregory the Theologian and St John Chrysostom, pray for us.

A good Lent to all.

Orthodox Monk

Wounded by Love

We have been reading Wounded by Love, which we cited here. In the section of Elder Porphyrios’ reflections on the Uncreated Church, which is none other than the Persons of the Holy Trinity themselves, we see that the purpose of Baptism, our own baptism, is to make us members of the Uncreated Church, to permit us to enter in to the life, the spiritual life, given us by our reception of the Holy Spirit in Baptism, of the Holy Trinity. The peculiarly Orthodox characteristic of this doctrine can be seen in the visual and spiritual texture of that very famous icon of the Holy Trinity by St Andrei Rublev. This texture is reminiscent of the very famous remark of the agents of the Ruler of Kiev concerning the Divine Liturgy when they were sent centuries ago to Constantinople to examine Orthodoxy: ‘We did not know whether we were in Heaven or on earth.’ The peculiarly Orthodox characteristic of this doctrine, then, is that the Orthodox experiences this participation in the life of the Holy Trinity first in his baptism with the descent of the Holy Spirit, and, after that, in his life of prayer and, especially, in his prayerful participation in the Divine Liturgy. In his prayer and in the Divine Liturgy, the Orthodox enters into a transcendent dimension where he does not know whether he is in Heaven or on earth, or, more clearly put, where he is at the same time both in Heaven with the Holy Trinity, and on earth. This is a foretaste of the divinization (theosis) that will be consummated for every saved Orthodox Christian after the General Resurrection. Moreover, the peculiar characteristic of St Andrei Rublev’s icon of the Trinity is that by divine grace (surely no one would suggest that that icon is a merely human work of art) he has managed to portray the participation in the life of the Holy Trinity that the Orthodox experiences in divinization (theosis), beginning in the Divine Liturgy after his baptism.

Christmas and the Theophany

It is interesting to reflect on the difference in spiritual atmosphere between Christmas, the feast of the birth of Christ, and the Theophany, the feast of the baptism of Christ. Christmas presents us with peace and stillness; the Theophany with Light. Christmas presents us with the material human existence of Christ; the Theophany presents us with the manifestation of his divinity.

Baptism

In this season that the Church celebrates in the Theophany (January 6) the Baptism of Christ, it is worthwhile looking at the role of Baptism in the spiritual life. St Diadochos and St Mark the Ascetic are insistent, writing in the 5^th Century, that Baptism is the source and foundation of all Christian spiritual endeavour.

It is important to understand that a man is changed in his baptism: he dies with Christ and will live again in Christ: he receives the cleansing of his sins; he receives the Holy Spirit as the pledge of his new life in Christ. As St Mark the Ascetic says, it is Baptism which confers on us the Holy Spirit and, secretly, all the Grace that we experience as we grow in Christ. What St Mark means is that our reception in Baptism of the Holy Spirit is the source of all the Grace we can ever experience as Christians.

Therefore, in approaching the Jesus Prayer, a man has to consider his spiritual condition: to pray the Jesus Prayer systematically is to seek after the fullness of the Holy Spirit that the man has received in his Orthodox baptism. Those people are deceived who think that the Holy Spirit is found everywhere, even in non-Christian religions; and that it is an easy thing to pray the Jesus Prayer, perhaps not exactly as Orthodox Christians pray it, so as to enter into a relationship with the Holy Spirit, perhaps outside of Christ. They run the risk of doing serious damage to themselves and to others around them.

In the Orthodox Church, we locate the spiritual renewal, the spiritual being ‘born again’, of the person in his actual act of baptism. In the service which makes a person a catechumen, the person formally renounces the Devil and formally binds himself to Christ, reciting the Nicene creed. This is similar to an Evangelical Protestant altar call, but in the Orthodox Church, it is not a matter of a snap decision in the emotionally-charged atmosphere of a rally, followed by the extemporaneous prayers of a preacher, but of preparation, confession of sins, and, in the service of the catechumen itself, of the prayers of the priest. Nowadays, even for adult baptism the service of the catechumen usually precedes baptism by only a short time, but in the early Church, the service of the catechumen was an entry into a relationship with the Church which, although it fell short of Baptism, nonetheless was a living relationship with the Church and, through the Church, with Christ.

The Orthodox Church, however, has never seen Baptism as the merely symbolic fulfilment of a commitment made to Christ in the service of the catechumen, that commitment itself being the source of being ‘born again’, of all the grace that the man will receive over his life-time. The service of the catechumen with its renunciation of the Devil and its formal acceptance of Christ is considered to be merely the beginning of a relationship with Christ, a beginning which requires after catechism—that is, after instruction in the Christian faith—completion in Baptism. And it is this Orthodox Baptism which gives us the Holy Spirit.

‘O taste and see that the Lord is good!’

This approach frees the Orthodox Christian from dangers often associated with Evangelical and Pentecostal Protestantism: First, the reception of a false spirit in the name as it were of the Holy Spirit. Second, the emotional and psychological problems, including confusion, surrounding repentance and conversion. And, of course, the Orthodox Church emphatically believes that after his baptism a man must begin to remake himself by overcoming his passions and his tempting thoughts. St Diadochos of Photiki speaks much about this.

This Orthodox approach avoids the problem of a belief in Christ that is accompanied by systematic sin: the newly baptised Orthodox recognizes that he has not yet definitively been ‘saved’, that he could still sin, and that he has to work on his salvation—without however thinking that it is by his own efforts that he makes spiritual progress (St Mark the Ascetic). It is in this context that the practice of the Jesus Prayer, and even formal Hesychasm, is situated. This is the road of repentance and conversion as a life-long endeavour, an endeavour actualized in part in the practice of the Jesus Prayer.

It sometimes seems to us that, especially in America where the overwhelming majority of the people profess Christ, the Evangelical approach suffers from the problem that the person believes he is saved even if he sins. Apart from the obvious problems of a sinful believer, the Evangelical approach runs the risk of creating arrogant and even vindictive believers, ones who believe that they are saved whatever they do—and, sometimes, some very bad things.

While there are certainly arrogant and narrow-minded Orthodox—Baptism does not make the person a saint; it gives him the possibility to become a saint—an Orthodox believer does not believe that whatever he does, he is saved. Most often, the Orthodox believer who sins knows quite well what he is doing, that it is wrong. He may repent; he may not; that is another issue. But he does not fool himself—normally—that he’s okay. He knows quite well deep down in his soul that he is on the road not of salvation but of the loss of his soul.

So, for the Orthodox believer the correct approach to the spiritual life is a humble turning to God in the Jesus Prayer; a humble recognition of his passions with efforts to overcome them; and the humble invocation of the mercy of Jesus Christ. It is this approach that produces those shining stars in the firmament that are the Orthodox Saints and Elders. And who has seen such a shining star of spiritual charity and compassion and has not been moved to the depths of his soul by Orthodox spirituality?

Combating the Passion of Pride 5 — Pride and Asceticism

Christian asceticism emphasizes humility. That asceticism is not Christian that is proud, that does not view its goal as humility, that does not see itself as repentance. It is considered by the Fathers to be demonic. Beware of those who are proud of great feats of bodily ascesis. They are on the road of the devil.

And with this post we end this series on combating the eight passions.

Combating the Passion of Pride 4 — Overcoming Pride in the Monk

The primary therapy for pride is obedience. If a man is proud, and that is his ruling passion, he would do well to start in a severe cœnobium and to remain there all his life in strict obedience. This is not merely to ‘protect the church’. It is the right approach to ascesis for someone whose ruling passion is pride—and don’t let anyone tell you that strict obedience isn’t ascesis. For a man whose ruling passion is pride to enter into solitary ascesis is dangerous. It is largely a matter of time until he falls into spiritual delusion (Gr. plani; Ru. prelest). After that, it’s the mental hospital. That is why the Fathers are extremely reluctant to talk much about Hesychasm in public forums: Hesychasm attracts precisely those persons who shouldn’t meddle with it: the proud. That is also why it says in the Sayings of the Desert Fathers that if you see a beginner ascending to Heaven by his own power, you should drag him down by his feet.

Combating the Passion of Pride 3 — Pride and the Monk

Monks start off well. In this day and age no one becomes an Orthodox monk because there is ‘something in it for him’. We all start off with ideals. Afterwards, however, the passion of pride enters in and we forget that we were once humble. We become hard.

Combating the Passion of Pride 2 — Pride and Repentance

The essential nature of pride is to refuse to repent—to insist. The first movement of humility is to admit that we were wrong, to ask for forgiveness.

George once told us about a woman he had known many years ago. She was counter-culture then; she is now a professor. She is physically very beautiful and quite courteous. She had a very chequered life; she is now alone on anti-depressants. What struck George, when he spoke with her, not having had contact with her for decades, was her spiritual pride.

This pride is incurable; only the mercy of God can enter into such a closed and hardened heart. Moreover, being counter-culture neither helped nor hindered her, nor her becoming a professor: the Gospel speaks on a different level to men and women, even those who are beautiful and courteous; on a different level to monks and nuns.

Combating the Passion of Pride 1 — Looking Towards the Theophany

In the service of Christmas, we look towards the Theophany.

Then Jesus comes from Galilee to the Jordan to John to be baptized by him. But John was preventing him, saying: ‘I have need to be baptized by you, and you come to me?’

Jesus answered and said to him: ‘Let it be for now. For thus it is proper for us that we fulfil all righteousness.’ Then he let him.

And when he was baptized, Jesus immediately came up from the water and, Behold! the Heavens were opened to him and he saw the Holy Spirit descending as a dove and coming upon him.

And Behold! a voice from the Heavens saying: ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, in whom I am well pleased.’

Matthew 3, 13–17

If Jesus, the second person of the Holy Trinity incarnate, could suffer himself to be baptized with a baptism of repentance in order to ‘fulfil all righteousness’, surely we who have sins can suffer ourselves to have a little humility.