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MARY, THE CROSS AND SALVATION

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I was going to have an entirely different post for today, until  I read this passage from Father Stephen's blog, and I could not resist the temptation to print it.   I thoroughly agree with it, not as an Orthodox-leaning Latin , though, I suppose, I am that in a way,  but as a dyed- in- the- wool Roman Catholic who believes that it best explains the place of the Incarnation and of Mary in our own Catholic spirituality.  I shall follow this really excellent exposition from Father Stephen's blog with similar views  held by some saints in our Western tradition. I shall then draw out some implications from what I have read.   
Our Lady of the Passion, called in the West, "Our Lady of Perpetual Succour".   The Christ Child looks at the instruments of the Cross and, in fright, jumps up into his mother's arms (his sandal is falling off) His mother is looking at us, challenging us: "Are we really worth the death of her Son?  Are we taking his death sufficiently seriously?   Do we sufficiently value the salvation that Christ has won for us?
“Hail, Mary, Full of Grace,” – the Cause of All Things
by father stephen

I treasure the small volume of George Gabriel,  Mary the Untrodden Portal of God. Gabriel occasionally strikes hard at the West and the book would perhaps be strengthened with a less combative approach to the differences of East and West in the faith (my own opinion), but I liked the book and found Gabriel addressing many things, well foot-noted, that are not found in many other places. I share an excerpt.

+++

From eternity, God provided for a communion with His creation that would remain forever. In that communion mankind would attain to the eternal theosis for which it was made. The communion, of course, is the Incarnation through the Ever-Virgin. Mankind's existence and, therefore, that of all creation is inexorably tied to Mary because she was always to be the Mother of the Incarnate Word. The fathers say that neither the course of human events nor necessity of any kind forced the Uncreated One to join to Himself a creaturely mode of existence. God did not become flesh because some actions of the devil or of man made it necessary, but because it was the divine plan and mystery from before the ages. Despite the works of Satan and the coming of sin into the world, the eternal will of God was undeterred, and it moved forward.

History and the course of human events were the occasion and not the cause of the Incarnation. The Incarnation did not take place for the Crucifixion; the Crucifixion took place so the Incarnation and the eternal communion of God and man could be fulfilled despite Satan, sin, and death. Explaining that there was no necessity in God the Father that required the death of His Son, St. Gregory the Theologian says the Father "neither asked for Him nor demanded Him, but accepts [His death] on account of the economy [of the Incarnation] and because mankind must be sanctified by the humanity of God." St. Gregory is telling us that, from before the ages, it was the divine will for mankind to be sanctified and made immortal by communion with the humanity of the Incarnate God, but corruptibility and death came and stood in the way.  By His Passion and Resurrection, Jesus Christ destroyed these obstacles and saved, that is, preserved, mankind for the Incarnation's eternal communion of the God-Man and immortal men. St. John of Damascus repeats the same idea that the Incarnation is a prior and indeed ontological purpose in itself, and that redemption is the means to that end. Thus, he says the Holy Virgin "came to serve in the salvation of the world so that the ancient will of God for the Incarnation of the Word and our own theosis may be fulfilled through her."


THE THEOLOGY OF ST ALBERT THE GREAT




Saint Albert the Great (1196/1206 - November 15th, 1280) teaches that the Divine Logos would have become man even if man had not sinned:

"I believe that the Son of God would have become man even if there had been no sin...Nevertheless, on this subject I say nothing in a definitive manner; but I believe that what I said is more in harmony with the piety of faith." 
"Credo quod Filius Dei factus fuisset homo, etiamsi numquam fuisset peccatum...tamen nihil de hoc asserendo dico : sed credo hoc quod dixi, magis concordare pietati fidei."
- St Albertus Magnus, III In Sententiarum d. 20, a. 4




THE THEOLOGY OF BLESSED DUNS SCOTUS





THE THEOLOGY OF ST FRANCIS DE SALES
St Francis de Sales (1567 - 1622)
"Now of all the creatures which that sovereign omnipotence could produce, he thought good to make choice of the same humanity which afterwards in effect was united to the person of God the Son; to which he destined that incomparable honour of personal union with his divine Majesty, to the end that for all eternity it might enjoy by excellence the treasures of his infinite glory. Then having selected for this happiness the sacred humanity of our Saviour, the supreme providence decreed not to restrain his goodness to the only person of his well-beloved Son, but for his sake to pour it out upon divers other creatures, and out of the mass of that innumerable quantity of things which he could produce, he chose to create men and angels to accompany his Son, participate in his graces and glory, adore and praise him for ever. And inasmuch as he saw that he could in various manners form the humanity of this Son, while making him true man, as for example by creating him out of nothing, not only in regard of the soul but also in regard of the body; or again by forming the body of some previously existing matter as he did that of Adam and Eve, or by way of ordinary human birth, or finally by extraordinary birth from a woman without man, he determined that the work should be effected by the last way, and of all the women he might have chosen to this end he made choice of the most holy virgin Our Lady, through whom the Saviour of our souls should not only be man, but a child of the human race. Furthermore the sacred providence determined to produce all other things as well natural as supernatural in behalf of Our Saviour, in order that angels and men might, by serving him, share in his glory; on which account, although God willed to create both angels and men with free-will, free with a true freedom to choose evil or good, still, to show that on the part of the divine goodness they were dedicated to good and to glory, he created them all in original justice, which is no other thing than a most sweet love, which disposed, turned and set them forward towards eternal felicity."

THEOLOGY OF  ST LAWRENCE OF BRINDISI (1569 - 1619)

On the Primacy of Christ:


God is love, and all his operations proceed from love. Once he wills to manifest that goodness by sharing his love outside himself, then the Incarnation becomes the supreme manifestation of his goodness and love and glory. So, Christ was intended before all other creatures and for his own sake. For him all things were created and to him all things must be subject, and God loves all creatures in and because of Christ. Christ is the first-born of every creature, and the whole of humanity as well as the created world finds its foundation and meaning in him. Moreover, this would have been the case even if Adam had not sinned.

+ Saint Lawrence of Brindisi


It seems that, by reading an Orthodox article on the reasons for the Incarnation, I have stumbled on an understanding which, because of its ecumenical accord, has good claim to be that of the Church in both East and West.  The saints whom I have quoted in favour of this teaching were important theologians in their day, with a reputation for sanctity and for learning that has lasted to the present.   Modern theologians do not really concern themselves with this question; but the tendency to see creation and redemption as two moments in one single, overall divine plan, the stress on our natural desire for Christ, and talk of the “Cosmic Christ”, all favour the thesis proposed in this Orthodox paper.     Nevertheless, the clarity with which it is taught puts us all in the author’s debt and motivated me to look at our own tradition with new eyes.

When the history of the Catholic Church in the modern age comes to be written, the presence of Russian émigré theologians in Paris after the Russian Revolution of 1917 and the fact that they came into contact with the resourcement theologians (1*) with their   nouvelle theologie will have immense significance. Both groups were under a cloud with their respective authorities, the Russians because they lived in Catholic Europe and were suspected of being contaminated by popery, and the resourcement theologians because they had set themselves against the commonly taught manual theology and claimed we can only move forward by   returning to the patristic sources.  For the Catholic group, things changed dramatically in Vatican II and the later election of two popes from their number. 

 This encounter became the historic cause of much of our present understanding.   Both sides were rather surprised to discover that they basically had the same religion, that their criticisms, however strongly put, were criticisms from the inside, not from the outside, and, for that reason, had to be listened to: that they had, not two distinct traditions, but, as Father Georges Florovsky put it, one single Tradition which has become disjointed in certain areas.   Father Georges Florovsky recognised that, in spite of differences that are important enough to be obstacles to communion, Catholic and Orthodox traditions belong to each other.  (See the video by Metropolitan Kallistos Ware on Catholic - Orthodox relations).   This means that our encounters will not only be opportunities to learn about each other: looking at our different theologies will shed light on our understanding of ourselves and of our own faith.   This is what has happened here.   Let it go on happening. 
(1*) see "La Nouvelle Theologie) 

click onANCIENT FAITH TODAY for an Orthodox interpretation.


MAUNDY THURSDAY

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When the Lord gives himself as food to his disciples on the eve of his death, his Pasch, his suffering and death must be completed in that instant; completed, to be sure, not in a bloody manner as on Good Friday, but completed quite as really and actually, even though under the veil of symbolic action.  Words of blessing, of thanks, of transformation are spoken; the bread is broken; the chalice is passed around; the simple man who thinks in symbols rather than general ideas knows what has happened.  Here on the eve of the offering in blood the Lord has given himself for the sins of the world as God's scapegoat; and to men as food, to give them a share in God's life.  Not first in the bloody event of Good Friday, but in the symbolic meal of Thursday did this become real and present. (Aemiliana Lohr O.S.B.) my source: "Year of Grace"


THE EUCHARIST, A MYSTERY
TO BE BELIEVED
"This is the work of God: that you believe
in him whom he has sent" (Jn 6:29)

The Church's eucharistic faith

6. "The mystery of faith!" With these words, spoken immediately after the words of consecration, the priest proclaims the mystery being celebrated and expresses his wonder before the substantial change of bread and wine into the body and blood of the Lord Jesus, a reality which surpasses all human understanding. The Eucharist is a "mystery of faith" par excellence: "the sum and summary of our faith." (13) The Church's faith is essentially a eucharistic faith, and it is especially nourished at the table of the Eucharist. Faith and the sacraments are two complementary aspects of ecclesial life. Awakened by the preaching of God's word, faith is nourished and grows in the grace-filled encounter with the Risen Lord which takes place in the sacraments: "faith is expressed in the rite, while the rite reinforces and strengthens faith." (14) For this reason, the Sacrament of the Altar is always at the heart of the Church's life: "thanks to the Eucharist, the Church is reborn ever anew!" (15) The more lively the eucharistic faith of the People of God, the deeper is its sharing in ecclesial life in steadfast commitment to the mission entrusted by Christ to his disciples. The Church's very history bears witness to this. Every great reform has in some way been linked to the rediscovery of belief in the Lord's eucharistic presence among his people.

The Blessed Trinity and the Eucharist

The bread come down from heaven

7. The first element of eucharistic faith is the mystery of God himself, trinitarian love. In Jesus' dialogue with Nicodemus, we find an illuminating expression in this regard: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (Jn 3:16-17). These words show the deepest source of God's gift. In the Eucharist Jesus does not give us a "thing," but himself; he offers his own body and pours out his own blood. He thus gives us the totality of his life and reveals the ultimate origin of this love. He is the eternal Son, given to us by the Father. In the Gospel we hear how Jesus, after feeding the crowds by multiplying the loaves and fishes, says to those who had followed him to the synagogue of Capernaum: "My Father gives you the true bread from heaven; for the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven, and gives life to the world" (Jn 6:32-33), and even identifies himself, his own flesh and blood, with that bread: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh" (Jn 6:51). Jesus thus shows that he is the bread of life which the eternal Father gives to mankind.

A free gift of the Blessed Trinity

8. The Eucharist reveals the loving plan that guides all of salvation history (cf. Eph 1:10; 3:8- 11). There the Deus Trinitas, who is essentially love (cf. 1 Jn 4:7-8), becomes fully a part of our human condition. In the bread and wine under whose appearances Christ gives himself to us in the paschal meal (cf. Lk 22:14-20; 1 Cor 11:23-26), God's whole life encounters us and is sacramentally shared with us. God is a perfect communion of love between Father, Son and Holy Spirit. At creation itself, man was called to have some share in God's breath of life (cf. Gen 2:7). But it is in Christ, dead and risen, and in the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, given without measure (cf. Jn 3:34), that we have become sharers of God's inmost life. (16) Jesus Christ, who "through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God" (Heb 9:14), makes us, in the gift of the Eucharist, sharers in God's own life. This is an absolutely free gift, the superabundant fulfilment of God's promises. The Church receives, celebrates and adores this gift in faithful obedience. The "mystery of faith" is thus a mystery of trinitarian love, a mystery in which we are called by grace to participate. We too should therefore exclaim with Saint Augustine: "If you see love, you see the Trinity." (17)

The Eucharist: Jesus the true Sacrificial lamb

The new and eternal covenant in the blood of the Lamb

9. The mission for which Jesus came among us was accomplished in the Paschal Mystery. On the Cross from which he draws all people to himself (cf. Jn 12:32), just before "giving up the Spirit," he utters the words: "it is finished" (Jn 19:30). In the mystery of Christ's obedience unto death, even death on a Cross (cf. Phil 2:8), the new and eternal covenant was brought about. In his crucified flesh, God's freedom and our human freedom met definitively in an inviolable, eternally valid pact. Human sin was also redeemed once for all by God's Son (cf. Heb 7:27; 1 Jn 2:2; 4:10). As I have said elsewhere, "Christ's death on the Cross is the culmination of that turning of God against himself in which he gives himself in order to raise man up and save him. This is love in its most radical form." (18) In the Paschal Mystery, our deliverance from evil and death has taken place. In instituting the Eucharist, Jesus had spoken of the "new and eternal covenant" in the shedding of his blood (cf. Mt 26:28; Mk 14:24; Lk 22:20). This, the ultimate purpose of his mission, was clear from the very beginning of his public life. Indeed, when, on the banks of the Jordan, John the Baptist saw Jesus coming towards him, he cried out: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world" (Jn 1:29). It is significant that these same words are repeated at every celebration of Holy Mass, when the priest invites us to approach the altar: "This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper." Jesus is the true paschal lamb who freely gave himself in sacrifice for us, and thus brought about the new and eternal covenant. The Eucharist contains this radical newness, which is offered to us again at every celebration. (19)

The institution of the Eucharist

10. This leads us to reflect on the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper. It took place within a ritual meal commemorating the foundational event of the people of Israel: their deliverance from slavery in Egypt. This ritual meal, which called for the sacrifice of lambs (cf. Ex 12:1-28, 43-51), was a remembrance of the past, but at the same time a prophetic remembrance, the proclamation of a deliverance yet to come. The people had come to realize that their earlier liberation was not definitive, for their history continued to be marked by slavery and sin. The remembrance of their ancient liberation thus expanded to the invocation and expectation of a yet more profound, radical, universal and definitive salvation. This is the context in which Jesus introduces the newness of his gift. In the prayer of praise, the Berakah, he does not simply thank the Father for the great events of past history, but also for his own "exaltation." In instituting the sacrament of the Eucharist, Jesus anticipates and makes present the sacrifice of the Cross and the victory of the resurrection. At the same time, he reveals that he himself is the true sacrificial lamb, destined in the Father's plan from the foundation of the world, as we read in The First Letter of Peter (cf. 1:18-20). By placing his gift in this context, Jesus shows the salvific meaning of his death and resurrection, a mystery which renews history and the whole cosmos. The institution of the Eucharist demonstrates how Jesus' death, for all its violence and absurdity, became in him a supreme act of love and mankind's definitive deliverance from evil.

Figura transit in veritatem

11. Jesus thus brings his own radical novum to the ancient Hebrew sacrificial meal. For us Christians, that meal no longer need be repeated. As the Church Fathers rightly say, figura transit in veritatem: the foreshadowing has given way to the truth itself. The ancient rite has been brought to fulfilment and definitively surpassed by the loving gift of the incarnate Son of God. The food of truth, Christ sacrificed for our sake, dat figuris terminum. (20) By his command to "do this in remembrance of me" (Lk 22:19; 1 Cor 11:25), he asks us to respond to his gift and to make it sacramentally present. In these words the Lord expresses, as it were, his expectation that the Church, born of his sacrifice, will receive this gift, developing under the guidance of the Holy Spirit the liturgical form of the sacrament. The remembrance of his perfect gift consists not in the mere repetition of the Last Supper, but in the Eucharist itself, that is, in the radical newness of Christian worship. In this way, Jesus left us the task of entering into his "hour." "The Eucharist draws us into Jesus' act of self-oblation. More than just statically receiving the incarnate Logos, we enter into the very dynamic of his self-giving." (21) Jesus "draws us into himself." (22) The substantial conversion of bread and wine into his body and blood introduces within creation the principle of a radical change, a sort of "nuclear fission," to use an image familiar to us today, which penetrates to the heart of all being, a change meant to set off a process which transforms reality, a process leading ultimately to the transfiguration of the entire world, to the point where God will be all in all (cf. 1 Cor 15:28).

The Holy Spirit and the Eucharist

Jesus and the Holy Spirit

12. With his word and with the elements of bread and wine, the Lord himself has given us the essentials of this new worship. The Church, his Bride, is called to celebrate the eucharistic banquet daily in his memory. She thus makes the redeeming sacrifice of her Bridegroom a part of human history and makes it sacramentally present in every culture. This great mystery is celebrated in the liturgical forms which the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, develops in time and space. (23) We need a renewed awareness of the decisive role played by the Holy Spirit in the evolution of the liturgical form and the deepening understanding of the sacred mysteries. The Paraclete, Christ's first gift to those who believe, (24) already at work in Creation (cf. Gen 1:2), is fully present throughout the life of the incarnate Word: Jesus Christ is conceived by the Virgin Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit (cf. Mt 1:18; Lk 1:35); at the beginning of his public mission, on the banks of the Jordan, he sees the Spirit descend upon him in the form of a dove (cf. Mt 3:16 and parallels); he acts, speaks and rejoices in the Spirit (cf. Lk 10:21), and he can offer himself in the Spirit (cf. Heb 9:14). In the so-called "farewell discourse" reported by John, Jesus clearly relates the gift of his life in the paschal mystery to the gift of the Spirit to his own (cf. Jn 16:7). Once risen, bearing in his flesh the signs of the passion, he can pour out the Spirit upon them (cf. Jn 20:22), making them sharers in his own mission (cf. Jn 20:21). The Spirit would then teach the disciples all things and bring to their remembrance all that Christ had said (cf. Jn 14:26), since it falls to him, as the Spirit of truth (cf. Jn 15:26), to guide the disciples into all truth (cf. Jn 16:13). In the account in Acts, the Spirit descends on the Apostles gathered in prayer with Mary on the day of Pentecost (cf. 2:1-4) and stirs them to undertake the mission of proclaiming the Good News to all peoples. Thus it is through the working of the Spirit that Christ himself continues to be present and active in his Church, starting with her vital centre which is the Eucharist.

The Holy Spirit and the eucharistic celebration

13. Against this backdrop we can understand the decisive role played by the Holy Spirit in the eucharistic celebration, particularly with regard to transubstantiation. An awareness of this is clearly evident in the Fathers of the Church. Saint Cyril of Jerusalem, in his Catecheses, states that we "call upon God in his mercy to send his Holy Spirit upon the offerings before us, to transform the bread into the body of Christ and the wine into the blood of Christ. Whatever the Holy Spirit touches is sanctified and completely transformed" (25). Saint John Chrysostom too notes that the priest invokes the Holy Spirit when he celebrates the sacrifice: (26) like Elijah, the minister calls down the Holy Spirit so that "as grace comes down upon the victim, the souls of all are thereby inflamed" (27). The spiritual life of the faithful can benefit greatly from a better appreciation of the richness of the anaphora: along with the words spoken by Christ at the Last Supper, it contains the epiclesis, the petition to the Father to send down the gift of the Spirit so that the bread and the wine will become the body and blood of Jesus Christ and that "the community as a whole will become ever more the body of Christ" (28). The Spirit invoked by the celebrant upon the gifts of bread and wine placed on the altar is the same Spirit who gathers the faithful "into one body" and makes of them a spiritual offering pleasing to the Father (29).


The Eucharist and the Church

The Eucharist, causal principle of the Church

14. Through the sacrament of the Eucharist Jesus draws the faithful into his "hour;" he shows us the bond that he willed to establish between himself and us, between his own person and the Church. Indeed, in the sacrifice of the Cross, Christ gave birth to the Church as his Bride and his body. The Fathers of the Church often meditated on the relationship between Eve's coming forth from the side of Adam as he slept (cf. Gen 2:21-23) and the coming forth of the new Eve, the Church, from the open side of Christ sleeping in death: from Christ's pierced side, John recounts, there came forth blood and water (cf. Jn 19:34), the symbol of the sacraments (30). A contemplative gaze "upon him whom they have pierced" (Jn 19:37) leads us to reflect on the causal connection between Christ's sacrifice, the Eucharist and the Church. The Church "draws her life from the Eucharist" (31). Since the Eucharist makes present Christ's redeeming sacrifice, we must start by acknowledging that "there is a causal influence of the Eucharist at the Church's very origins" (32). The Eucharist is Christ who gives himself to us and continually builds us up as his body. Hence, in the striking interplay between the Eucharist which builds up the Church, and the Church herself which "makes" the Eucharist (33), the primary causality is expressed in the first formula: the Church is able to celebrate and adore the mystery of Christ present in the Eucharist precisely because Christ first gave himself to her in the sacrifice of the Cross. The Church's ability to "make" the Eucharist is completely rooted in Christ's self-gift to her. Here we can see more clearly the meaning of Saint John's words: "he first loved us" (1 Jn 4:19). We too, at every celebration of the Eucharist, confess the primacy of Christ's gift. The causal influence of the Eucharist at the Church's origins definitively discloses both the chronological and ontological priority of the fact that it was Christ who loved us "first." For all eternity he remains the one who loves us first.


The Eucharist and ecclesial communion

15. The Eucharist is thus constitutive of the Church's being and activity. This is why Christian antiquity used the same words, Corpus Christi, to designate Christ's body born of the Virgin Mary, his eucharistic body and his ecclesial body.(34) This clear datum of the tradition helps us to appreciate the inseparability of Christ and the Church. The Lord Jesus, by offering himself in sacrifice for us, in his gift effectively pointed to the mystery of the Church. It is significant that the Second Eucharistic Prayer, invoking the Paraclete, formulates its prayer for the unity of the Church as follows: "may all of us who share in the body and blood of Christ be brought together in unity by the Holy Spirit." These words help us to see clearly how the res of the sacrament of the Eucharist is the unity of the faithful within ecclesial communion. The Eucharist is thus found at the root of the Church as a mystery of communion (35).

The relationship between Eucharist and communio had already been pointed out by the Servant of God John Paul II in his Encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia. He spoke of the memorial of Christ as "the supreme sacramental manifestation of communion in the Church" (36). The unity of ecclesial communion is concretely manifested in the Christian communities and is renewed at the celebration of the Eucharist, which unites them and differentiates them in the particular Churches, "in quibus et ex quibus una et unica Ecclesia catholica exsistit" (37). The fact that the one Eucharist is celebrated in each Diocese around its own Bishop helps us to see how those particular Churches subsist in and ex Ecclesia. Indeed, "the oneness and indivisibility of the eucharistic body of the Lord implies the oneness of his mystical body, which is the one and indivisible Church. From the eucharistic centre arises the necessary openness of every celebrating community, of every particular Church. By allowing itself to be drawn into the open arms of the Lord, it achieves insertion into his one and undivided body." (38) Consequently, in the celebration of the Eucharist, the individual members of the faithful find themselves in their Church, that is, in the Church of Christ. From this eucharistic perspective, adequately understood, ecclesial communion is seen to be catholic by its very nature (39). An emphasis on this eucharistic basis of ecclesial communion can also contribute greatly to the ecumenical dialogue with the Churches and Ecclesial Communities which are not in full communion with the See of Peter. The Eucharist objectively creates a powerful bond of unity between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Churches, which have preserved the authentic and integral nature of the eucharistic mystery. At the same time, emphasis on the ecclesial character of the Eucharist can become an important element of the dialogue with the Communities of the Reformed tradition (40).




my source: Goodnews archives
Q: What role does the Eucharist play in the life of the Church?
Father McPartlan: The Eucharist is at the very core of the life of the Church and gives the Church its identity. The Church is the Body of Christ, and, as St. Augustine taught, we receive the body of Christ in order to become the body of Christ: "Be what you see and receive what you are." The whole mystery of Christ and of the Church as his body is what we receive in the Eucharist. This sacrament therefore renews our life together in Christ; in other words, it renews the Church.

"The Church draws her life from the Eucharist," as Pope John Paul II said at the start of his encyclical "Ecclesia de Eucharistia." The life that we share in Christ is the life of the Trinity, because Christ is the Son of God incarnate, and that life is one of perfect communion. The phrase we use about receiving the Eucharist is really very significant; we say we are receiving Communion. There is such a lot of meaning concentrated in that phrase. We are receiving Christ himself, but the life he shares with us is the communion life of the Trinity -- the very life that calls us out of our own individualism and draws us together as the Church.

The Eucharist renews the very gift that makes us to be the Church, and it follows that the community dimension of the Eucharist is of the utmost importance. It is really communities, and ultimately the Church as a whole, that receives the Eucharist, not just lots of individuals. We should always be conscious of those with whom we receive; the Eucharist renews our life as brothers and sisters, caring for one another and working together to bear witness to the communion life of the Kingdom of God. Our life in Christ begins, of course, with baptism, and people sometimes think that an emphasis on the Eucharist as making the Church detracts from the importance of baptism in making the Church. We must avoid any such impression. Baptism and Eucharist are both given to us by Christ and therefore there can never be any rivalry between them. Rather we must understand how they fit together. What baptism begins in us, the Eucharist renews, strengthens and sustains. For instance, in every Eucharist we are washed by the blood of the Lamb, as it says in Revelation 7:14; it is a washing that renews the washing in water that we received in baptism. We must never forget that there is forgiveness in the Eucharist, particularly expressed when we receive under both kinds and drink from the cup of the Lord. In a sense, the Eucharist keeps the grace of our baptism fresh in us until the moment when it is consummated at our death. As we pray in the Mass for a deceased person: "In baptism she died with Christ, may she also share his resurrection."

Q: What does it mean that "the Church makes the Eucharist" and "the Eucharist makes the Church"?

Father McPartlan: These two phrases were coined by the great French Jesuit Henri de Lubac [1896-1991], who was a leading pioneer of the renewal of the Church at the Second Vatican Council and became a cardinal toward the end of his long life. Both are true, of course. However, he thought that the first millennium, and especially the era of the Fathers of the early Church, was characterized by the idea that "the Eucharist makes the Church;" whereas the second millennium, the era of scholasticism, held more to the idea that "the Church makes the Eucharist."

It is clear from the title of the Pope's encyclical that we have returned in recent times, particularly after Vatican II, thanks to the work of de Lubac and others, to a more patristic point of view. The two phrases in fact tend to identify two rather different perceptions of the Church. If we say that the Eucharist makes the Church then we will readily understand that the Church is itself a family of Eucharistic communities, a communion of local churches, which was the patristic model.

However, de Lubac showed that the community dimension of the Eucharist suffered greatly as a result of Eucharistic controversy at the start of the second millennium. Much more attention was paid to the fact that bread and wine are changed into the body and blood of Christ than to the fact that the Church then receives these transformed gifts and is itself transformed in Christ. The Eucharist ceased to shape the Church and became one of seven sacraments that the Church celebrates. Hence, the Church makes the Eucharist. Juridical factors then began to shape the Church, and the standard picture of the Church in the scholastic era is that of an institutional pyramid, with the pope at the top. Vatican II grappled with how to integrate these two pictures of the Church and this is still an issue today. Nevertheless, we can certainly say that the Council showed a strong desire to reinstate patristic perspectives. We naturally speak nowadays of the Church as a Eucharistic communion of local churches and this is of immense importance ecumenically.

GOOD FRIDAY, 2013

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What then is the Eucharist? Christ in his self-surrender, the eternal reality of the suffering and death of the Lord immortalized in a form that permits us to draw from it vitality for our spiritual life as concrete as the food and drink from which we draw our physical  strength. . . .Any attempt to “spiritualize” or “purify” it must destroy it. It is presumption and incredulity to try to fix the limits of the possible. God says what he wills, and what he wills, is. He alone “to the end” sets the form and measure of his love.

Then they walked up the valley until they came to a farm called Gethsemane. Jesus has often sat there with his disciples, teaching. . . .Only the three who had recently been with him on the mountain of the Transfiguration, Peter, James. And John,  accompany him. A terrible sadness overcomes the Lord – sadness “unto death” says Holy Scripture. . . .Alone, he advances a few paces, falls on his face and prays. This is no place for psychology. When guided by reverence and warmed by generosity, psychology is an excellent thing, doing much to help one human understand another. . . .

Psychology would explain Gethsemane similarly: the rejection by both the ruling class and the masses, the pilgrimage to Jerusalem with its tremendous experiences, the entry into the city, the terrible waiting of the preceding days, the treachery and the Last Supper – as a result of the prolonged strain now the breakdown. . . .But with Jesus any such explanation is bound to founder. If it is insisted upon, Holy Thursday is robbed of that weight and salutary power which can be sensed only in contrition and adoration. Here we can proceed solely through faith guided by revelation. . . .

What does faith tell us? Before all else who this man is there on his knees – the Son of God in the simplest sense of the word. For that reason he sees existence in its ultimate reality. . . .

No one has ever seen existence as Jesus saw it. . . . In that hour when his human heart lifted the world from its vapors of deception, he beheld it as otherwise only God beholds it – in all its hideous nakedness. What happened was truth realized in charity. And we are given the standpoint from which we too can see through and reject deception. For that is the meaning of salvation: seeing the world as Christ saw it and experiencing his repulsion of sin. 


Fr. Romano Guardini (1885 – 1968), author and academic, was one of the most important figures in Catholic intellectual life in 20th-century. His most famous book is The Lord (Gateway Editions). He was a mentor to such prominent theologians as Hans Urs von Balthasar and Joseph Ratzinger.



We shall build this post during the day.

The Cross of St Benedict at Pachacamac Monastery

It is precisely the veneration of the cross which serves the main ideas of the liturgical reform:  active participation of the believing people in the healing action of the rite.  For it is one thing to see the adoration the cross performed perhaps at a considerable distance by clergy, and another to enter oneself into the sanctuary to give answer in person to the Lord's decisive question:  'My people, what have I done to thee?'

If one is only an onlooker at this reverence, one can well let it go by, without being inwardly touched by it:  a fine ceremony which binds the individual to nothing.  But one who goes up and takes part must pledge himself to the crucified Lord for life and death, must offer his longing to have part in Jesus' suffering, to have a share in the Pasch, both here in ritual and in all the difficulty of daily life.... Understood and performed in such a way, the symbolic act of the veneration of the cross can become a true mysterium, if not in the perfect manner of the eucharist, still communicating a real union with the suffering and dying Christ.
                (Dame Aemiliana Lohr OSB) my source: Cathedral Liturgy (Seattle)

Latin American Good Friday


Talk on Good Friday       Belmont  Abbey,
by Dom Alex Echeandía                                              29th March 2013


Dom Alex Echeandia is a Peruvian monk of our Pachacamac monastery studying Theology at Blackfriars, Oxford, as well as iconography under Aidan Hart.  Br Alex is now a Deacon, and this talk he gave today to people doing a Holy Week retreat at our mother house, Belmont Abbey.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? 


 Tenebrae from Blackfriars, Oxford


We begin this talk with these words of Jesus taken from Mathew’s Gospel. Why do we call this day “Good Friday”? What is good about it? Is it because on this day Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was crucified? Do we celebrate the fact that the Just One was the victim of a political and religious murder?

As we have been praying the Via Crucis a few minutes ago in the Abbey church, we have vividly imagined the kind of death Our Lord suffered. We realise that He indeed was put to death by the cruelest, most shameful mode of execution you could imagine; and on top of that, forsaken by God: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.  What's good about Good Friday?

Let’s travel together into the scenery of the first Good Friday. Here we see the suffering of Christ punished by the soldiers. Some of you will remember the film “The Passion” by Mel Gibson, in which Christ is presented in a very bloody way. Perhaps, some may think that what this film tells us is an exaggeration of what really happened. We cannot know for certain the physical details of what really happened; but the truth is that Christ really suffered for us, physically, mentally, with all his being, in order to save us all. The Son of God and Son of Mary came to earth to save us in every sense.


Let us look more closely at the cross, because it is the central point of Jesus’ passion and death.  At the beginning of his crucifixion, as Mark[1] tells us, Christ was offered the customary anaesthetizing drink to reduce the unbearable pain. Jesus refused to drink it because he wanted to bear the suffering consciously to the very end. Nevertheless, later on, in the middle of the day, he called out: “I thirst”.[2] He was offered soft wine or vinegar to drink. In this way, he reveals with this act the fullness of his humanity; it is a man who thirsts. This same Jesus also wept for Lazarus, rejoiced with the Apostles, reacted in the Temple, and was hungry in the desert at the beginning of his ministry.  Thus, Christ in the fullness of his humanity accepted freely to suffer and die for us.

When Jesus stretched out his arms on the cross, he drew all people to himself. He invites us to learn from Him who is gentle and humble of heart and to find rest in our souls. Christ from the cross teaches us how to live and how to die. Once more, He teaches his disciples, even if they had forgotten their teacher.

But Jesus was not alone at his crucifixion. As Luke tells us in his Gospel, the thieves were sharing the same suffering. The forgotten teacher found a good disciple at the very cross: the good thief.

In one of his sermons St Augustine[3] talks about it. He contrasts the attitude of hopelessness of the Jesus’ disciples after the crucifixion with the Good Thief's eagerness to learn to hope in the Lord. Augustine says that the disciples had forgotten their Master whereas the Good Thief had found his. I quote him by saying,

That cross was a classroom; that is where the Teacher taught the thief; the cross he was hanging on became the chair he was teaching from.   Here Augustine contrasts the disciples’ loss of hope after the crucifixion with the good thief’s willingness to learn to hope from Jesus, even as Jesus was hanging on the cross.

Jesus tells him “today you will be with me in paradise.” Why did he say that to the thief? It was not because he was sharing the same suffering, but because he acknowledged Jesus even when He was being tortured on the Cross. “You will be with me in paradise”. With me, he says. He doesn't simply say “You will be in paradise,” or “You will be with someone else.” No. He says: “You will be with me!” You will be filled and satisfied by the One you desire. Suddenly it comes to our minds the episode of the Samaritan woman: “Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.”[4] In other words, what Jesus promised to the thief was that: “you will be satisfied when you see in majesty the One whom you acknowledge as crushed by humiliation and shame"

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To this criminal, robber or murderer perhaps, who was sharing the same suffering as being crucified with him, he said: “Today, I tell you, you will be with me in Paradise,' - in Paradise, from which Adam, the first criminal, was expelled at the beginning of the sorry story of human history. So, how is it that two criminals are going to where the first criminal could not go back? He is making himself one with sinners, taking upon Himself all the sins, all the wickedness and evil perpetrated by the human race from the beginning to the end of time. 

Nowadays and in the past, society tells us that a criminal must suffer punishment for what he did. In this way, Jesus on the cross was making the sufferings of all suffering humanity his own, so that all suffering men, women and children may endow their sufferings, however cruel, repulsive, nasty, pointless they are, with the dignity and honour of being the sufferings of the Son of God.  Christ on the cross embodies all the pains we bear. Only through Christ on the cross can we make sense of the 
difficulties we have to put up with, the senseless pains we have to endure.

Good Friday: certainly it is good because it was necessary in order to see the Lord's rising from the dead. To do that, he had to die first, had to share our death, so that we might share in his resurrection. As the stone from the tomb in which Jesus was laid was opened after his death, and the veil of the Holy of Holies was divided in two from top to bottom; Good Friday is the door through which he, and we with him, pass through death to life everlasting.

This is what we as Christians understand by this holy day, but in the world we live in, people may ask you: What really happened on the first Good Friday? If you ask anybody, probably no one can give you a single answer; nor was a single answer given in Jesus own time either.

As you know I come from South America. There we have a very popular custom to dramatize the Passion of Christ: the Via Crucis.  It takes about two or three hours with so many events. It is actually beautiful to remember what it was like during the first Good Friday.



But in order see the picture in its wholeness and realise more vividly the passion and death of Christ, we need to avoid being stuck in the separate events, and join all of them in one single image as we introduce ourselves into the passion of our Lord, beginning with his arrest until his death on Golgotha.
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Moreover, people involved in this sequence of acts understood and reacted differently to what was going on. For example, Mary, the Mother of God, and Jesus’ disciples had their own grief to cope with. Even within the group of Apostles, whose faith was tested, we may observe the difference of attitude between them. Moreover, the soldiers and guards regarded it just another duty they needed to fulfil. The Jewish and Roman authorities made decisions related to their religious and political affairs. Barnabas, on the other hand, had in Jesus’ arrest an opportunity for freedom; the crowds in Jerusalem on that very day saw in it nothing beyond one more public execution. You can probably compare it in today’s life with a traffic accident or with a fight between two men, people come close and watch for different reasons.

If someone who did not know what was happening during Jesus’ passion and death, he would have asked at that time: “What happened?” He would have received different answers. Today, if you ask anybody what Good Friday means for him or her, you probably will receive different answers as well. You would hear the belief that nothing was the same after that Friday; but also you would find in others indifference and ignorance.



So, what that Friday brought for us was “Goodness”, “Love” that are expressed in its fullness through the sacrifice of Jesus at Calvary. It is inseparably connected to his life on earth before the crucifixion, and to his Resurrection. The whole creation experienced the fulness of God. It involved all humanity, including Israel, the chosen people. The crucifixion is the sign of God’s love and goodness, but sadly it easily stays short in our memories and our hearts.

This sacrifice on the cross shows the way Jesus Christ died, but this death happened once for all. There will be no repetition because Christ is risen. This is the mystery we celebrate at Easter every year in memory of Christ.

That is why the Eucharist is a sacrifice because it makes present the sacrifice of the cross and also it bears the fruits that come from that very cross. We receive the Body of Jesus, broken for us and our salvation as Holy Communion, and so once again we are mystically united not only with Jesus' suffering and death, but also his promise of resurrection and new life. We receive God's strength to carry on living in hope, as the good thief at the last moment of his life. The goodness of Good Friday is redemptive and transforming.

Without the cross, there is no resurrection. Without resurrection, the Passion is indeed a story of brutality, as the film of Mel Gigson shows, of the way in which fear and hatred seek to erase the humanity of their victims; but above all, it is a story of failure, of pointlessness, of despair.  In contrast, seen through the lens of the Resurrection, it is the story of triumph: the victory of love over hatred, of hope over despair, of life over death. This really makes sense when we name this very day as “Good Friday”.




Finally we reflect on what is going to happen this afternoon. The liturgy today is punctuated by periods of silence. It begins in silence as the ministers enter and prostrate before the altar. They venerate the cross and they depart in silence at the close of the ceremony. In a way we come to the liturgy on Good Friday so that He might address us Himself, that is why there is so much silence. We are silent so that we may not miss 'the word of the Cross'.



The power of the liturgy of Good Friday comes from the silent gaze of him who bore 'the weight of our sins on the tree of the cross. The liturgy of Good Friday allows us to bring all the damaged goods which have marked our lives, those of which we are aware and those we have suppressed or cannot articulate, to lay them at the feet of the crucified Lord. Together with the thief, all of us can make same prayer 'Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom'. On this day when a great silence descends over the church we all identify with the repentant thief and make it an opportunity to come close to the one who died for us.


[1] Mk 15:23

[2] John 19:27

[3] The Cross in the Christian Tradition: From Paul to Bonaventure, edited by Elizabeth Dreyer.


[4] John 4:14

ABBOT PAUL'S HOMILY FOR GOOD FRIDAY




            “Let us be confident, then, in approaching the throne of grace, that we shall have mercy from him and find grace when we are in need of help.” With these words of encouragement and hope, the Letter to the Hebrews invites us today to look upon Christ Crucified with confidence, asking him for every grace and blessing. In the Intercessions that follow we pray for all mankind, then we venerate the Cross and, on it, the image of Jesus our Saviour, the Lamb of God. Throughout the Bible, God comes very close to his people and enters into a personal relationship with each one of them. He becomes their friend. How much more so in Jesus. Think of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well and of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Through his Incarnation he has destroyed the barrier between God and Man. In Christ we find both natures in the One Person: he is true God and true Man. “To have seen me is to have seen the Father.”

We see this clearly in St John’s Passion. Pontius Pilate plays a particularly important role in this Gospel. He is a tragic figure, finding Jesus innocent and wishing to release him, yet he is scared of the mob and frightened of losing his job. Instead of listening to his conscience, he acquiesces to the demands of the crowd, “Crucify him. Crucify him.” He knows what is right and does what is wrong. He is a coward and his only excuse is that empty question, “Truth? What is that?” Yet, when all is lost, he still has courage to say, “What I have written, I have written.” With that imperial inscription in three languages, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews,” he acknowledges the truth about Jesus. In every lie there is an element of truth. Many world leaders today profess being Christian and yet govern and legislate in a totally unchristian way, not wishing to offend the vociferous majority or even minority. Pilate is alive and well in our world.

In St John the women who follow Jesus to Golgotha stay close to him and not at a distance as in the other Gospels.  The two Marys, his aunt and the Magdalene, are mentioned by name, but not his mother or even the beloved disciple. “Woman, this is your son. This is your mother.” Here we have a different aspect of the new Israel, the Church, constituted in the new Exodus of the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus. At the Last Supper the Twelve were present, but now at Golgotha it is his mother and the beloved disciple. Jesus brings them into a mother-son relationship and thus constitutes a Church, which is a family of disciples and friends. It will be the beloved disciple who discovers the empty tomb and Mary Madgalene, the Apostle of the apostles, who first sees the risen Lord. The Church is not only hierarchic but a community of believers who love one other as of brothers and sisters and so constitute God’s family.

Finally, when Jesus bows his head and gives up the spirit, we meet another group of followers, who make up the Church of Christ. Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathaea embrace the body of the dead Christ and prepare it meticulously for burial, laying it to rest in a new tomb in a garden. We are reminded of that garden where it all began, the Garden of Eden. “Unless a wheat grain falls to the ground and dies it remains a single grain.” We too share in the new creation of his Kingdom, that new heaven and new earth.

Christ invites us all to come to him with confidence and become his friends. In heaven there is room for all of us, for Peter and the apostles, for his mother and the beloved disciple, for the women who followed him from Galilee, for Simon of Cyrene and Veronica, for Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathaea, for Pilate and his soldiers, for the scribes and Pharisees, even for Judas, such is the loving mercy of God. We must never forget that on Good Friday two mothers mourned the death of their sons. “Where sin abounded, grace abounded all the more,” wrote St Paul. Today we approach with confidence the throne of grace, the Cross of Jesus, to receive mercy from him and find grace in our every need. To Him alone honour, glory and thanksgiving, now and for ever. Amen. 




Scriptural Rosary - Sorrowful Mysteries - EWTN -Part: 1 of 3 from objektivonemusic on GodTube.

HOLY SATURDAY

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THE HARROWING OF HELL (13th CENT.)

Holy Saturday

Once again the Church gathers her children by its light for the last confession and preparation.  Sacred reading and praise fill the long hours of the night, now as it always does.  But as the new fire of God's agape, the light of the knowledge that God alone gives us burns more brightly than usual in the assembly.

By the reader's desk the Paschal candle is burning; its light falls upon the pages of the Old Testament.  Christ casts his light into the darkness of the past, and shows everywhere the saving design of his love, which held man from the beginning in its hands, held him fast, and is today fulfilled.  The mind will never be more supple to receive this knowledge than tonight.  The long renunciation and penitence of the past week, the mystical suffering of the days just over have opened up all the senses to healing; the Paschal brilliance and the storm of joy in the Exsultet have raised them to the deepest things of God.  Time and its moments fall away, we are gathered inwardly into the still seeing of the inestimable agape.  Aemiliana Lohr OSB (my source: the year of grace)

Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev on the Gates of Paradise Being Opened for All Humanity
Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev of Volokolamsk
my source: Salt of the  Earth

As the last stage in the divine descent (katabasis) and self-emptying (kenosis), the descent of Christ into Hades became at the same time the starting point of the ascent of humanity towards deification (theosis). Since this descent, the path to paradise is opened for both the living and the dead, which was followed by those whom Christ delivered from hell.  The destination point for all humanity and every individual is the fullness of deification in which God becomes ‘all in all’. It is for this deification that God first created man and then, when ‘the time had fully come’ (Gal. 4:4), Himself became man, suffered, died, descended to Hades and was raised from the dead.

We do not know if every one followed Christ when He rose from hell. Nor do we know if every one will follow Him to the eschatological Heavenly Kingdom when He will become ‘all in all’. But we do know that since the descent of Christ into Hades the way to resurrection has been opened for ‘all flesh’, salvation has been granted to every human being, and the gates of paradise have been opened for all those who wish to enter through them. This is the faith of the Early Church inherited from the first generation of Christians and cherished by Orthodox Tradition. This is the never-extinguished hope of all those who believe in Christ Who once and for all conquered death, destroyed hell and granted resurrection to the entire human race.
(Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev)


OFFICE OF THE DESCENT INTO HELL
(Jerusalem Monastic Community)

Good Friday: the Via Crucis in Rome

THE


CELEBRATION OF THE PASSION IN ST PETER'S
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CHRIST HAS RISEN!! A HAPPY EASTER TO YOU ALL

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EASTER VIGIL 2013 AT BELMONT

ABBOT PAUL'S HOMILY AT  THE VIGIL

            “When the women returned from the tomb, they told all this to the Eleven and to the others, but this story of theirs seemed pure nonsense, and they did not believe.” “Pure nonsense”, that’s what we are celebrating tonight, “pure nonsense”. And thank God it’s the Gospel that says so. It’s plain to see that, from the beginning, the apostles and the other disciples found the news of the empty tomb and the message of the angels to the women, that the Lord Jesus had risen from the dead, simply impossible to believe, unbelievable, in fact “pure nonsense”.

            So it doesn’t come as a surprise anymore when we read and hear all sorts of disparaging remarks about Jesus, the Resurrection, the Gospel, the Christian faith and, above all, the Catholic Church. We’ve heard it all before, so why get upset? For us Christians, the more we hear foolish things said about Jesus, the more we love him and want to be counted among his disciples. The more we hear his Church, our Church, criticised and insulted, the more we love her and try to be faithful to her teaching and way of life. Persecution, whatever form it takes, certainly separates the men from the boys, and I mean that inclusively.

            But let’s return to tonight’s Gospel and focus our attention on Jesus. We all learn by making mistakes and reflecting on personal experience. The same happened with the apostles. They listened closely to what the angels had told the women. “Why look among the dead for one who is alive? He is not here: he is risen. Remember what he told you; that the Son of Man had to be handed over into the power of sinful men and be crucified, and rise again on the third day.” But they were not convinced. They had to see and hear for themselves. These men weren’t dumb – they asked intelligent questions and thought things over seriously. Think of Thomas – “Unless I see the holes in his hands and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.”

Then, early in the morning on the first day of the week, something finally twigged in Peter’s mind. Hadn’t he heard Jesus talk about this very moment many times before his Passion? So he went running to the tomb and,  seeing it empty, came back home, amazed at what had happened. His doubts began to evaporate in the first light of dawn. He was beginning to believe. Only gradually, as Jesus appeared first to one, then to another, then finally to all of them, did the disciples come to believe that he had risen from the dead. To see is to believe, yet “blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe.”

Tonight we give thanks to God for the gift of faith. It might still be “pure nonsense” for many, but for us Christians, the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is the source of our joy and the key that opens the door to the meaning of life and the meaning of death, the meaning of suffering and God’s ultimate purpose in creating all that exists.

We leave the final word to St Paul, writing to the Romans. “When we were baptised we went into the tomb with Christ Jesus, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life. When he died, he died to sin once for all, so his life in now life with God. So too you must consider yourselves to be dead to sin but alive for God in Christ Jesus.”

On behalf of the monastic Community I wish you all a joyful and holy Easter. Christ is risen; he is risen indeed. Alleluia, alleluia.


Christ is risen! Alleluia, Alleluia !
The meaning of the word “gospel” reaches its fullness today: “Good News” We began our preparation by following Christ through Lent; then, we moved towards the entrance of Christ into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, followed by these last days in which we experienced the sadness of the loss and suffering of Our Lord, His crucifixion, His agonising death and finally His burial. It was very sad, indeed. However, as you know, crucifixion without resurrection brings just sadness and disappointment, as the two disciples experienced on the road to Emmaus. They did not understand what was going on because they did not understand God’s plan of salvation.  They, like the Apostles before them, experienced the loss of their beloved Master and Messiah.

Today we heard in the Gospel how Mary Magdalene, Peter and John went to the place were Jesus was buried. They in different ways experienced the Risen Lord. Mary of Magdala who went before dawn on first day of the week recognized the Lord who she first thought was the gardener.  Is it because she did not know that the One was talking to her was Jesus himself? I prefer to say that what she was looking for was the dead body of his Lord. It did not occur to her that her Lord was already risen from the dead. If we look at other stories about Christ's crucifixion, we may find that the religious leaders of the Jews were already suspicious of what was going to happen. They were suspicious that somebody else, one of Jesus’ disciples perhaps, may take His body and hide it in order to fulfil Jesus’ promises he made when he was still alive.

Peter, on the other hand, running with John the beloved disciple, went right into the tomb and saw the clothes on the ground and other cloth that was over Jesus’ head. Peter did not understand what Jesus said before. He also was looking for Jesus’ body. The Lord Himself needed to appear to him and to the other Apostles so that they could experience the promise of their Master and Lord.  The Apostle John saw and believed.   He reached the tomb first, before Peter and found the entrance open, just as Mary Magdalene had told him. He need to see first in order to believe. Blessed are those who cannot see and yet believe.[1] Even if he believed that Jesus rose from the dead, it was a surprise for him.

Every event now makes sense in the light of the resurrection. But though we followed the last week of Jesus’ life, it was not the same for us as for the Apostles and other disciples. As we went through the whole story of Jesus’ life, passion and death, we knew how this story would end. The disciples did not know it. We experienced Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, even Palm Sunday, knowing that on the third day Christ would rise again from the dead. They did not wait for his resurrection as we did after the celebration of Good Friday. For them the burial of their Master and Lord was the end of the story. I am sure that like the friends going to Emmaus, the Apostle Thomas, Mary Magdalene and other disciples, thought they would never see Jesus again. They suffered the pain of separation. They also were mortified that they could not ask forgiveness for having left Christ alone after his arrest in Gethsemane: Jesus was not with them any more.

As we know, the Pharisees believed in the resurrection of the dead and  angels, but, like most Jews, they were thinking of the resurrection from the dead on the Last Day. We remember the answer given by Martha, talking about Lazarus, her brother: "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day”.[2] They were thinking of a general resurrection in the future when the righteous ones will be gathered together by God in eternity.  For us, it is the Parousia, when the risen Christ will come again in glory. So, what they experienced in Jesus’ time was the lack of any belief that a single person can rise ahead of all the rest.  We have the advantage to know what Judas Iscariot did not.

So what they experienced after the resurrection was surprise, terror, amazement; rather than joy, gladness and rejoicing. They did not do what we are doing now, proclaiming that the Lord is risen. They kept hidden, fragile, without their Master who they always accompanied and with whom they ate. So, the Good News brought first by Mary Magdalen was for them something that could not enter their minds, as Thomas later manifested.

After the resurrection, what we see in the gospels is a combination of belief and unbelief, sadness and joy, recognition and incredulity, insecurity and certainty, reality as they were use to and yet a reality transformed.  Examples of that are all over the place. The disciples on the road of Emmaus were talking to Jesus about the same Jesus. They did not know who He was until the second Eucharist took place, in the breaking of bread; but suddenly he disappeared.  His eucharistic Presence was enough for them. This is a good example of how Christ interacts with us, now and here. First, He listens to the struggle going on in our minds, then He brings us an understanding of Scriptures, of Himself as the Word of God. He reveals Himself to us; then, He offers Himself in the Eucharist, He gives us His real presence, and finally he leaves us alone  in order that we can move forward. He wants us to realise what our minds cannot understand.   Very often, we pay too much attention to our own feelings, and this hinders the growth of our faith, just like Peter whose feelings conquered his faith, and he began to sink  in the sea as his trust in Christ crumbled before the force of the wind and the unfamiliarity of walking on water. So, what Christ did to the first Christians and what he does to us today is to introduce to his followers a new reality through an open door.,  It is an experience that Peter, John and James had on Mount Tabor when He was transfigured before them.  The entrance to the tomb was another door: John saw and believed.

Our experience of the Risen Lord is not like that of the disciples before the first Easter Sunday. Ours is more like the ones who knew how the story ended. Paul, for example, was one of the first who experienced the risen Lord, as he was lying on the ground near his horse. He knew what happened on the first Good Friday, he knew that the converted Jews were following a New Way. He heard about Him whom the people acknowledged as the One risen from the dead. He becomes an example of what it is for us to be Christians here and now. Nevertheless, Paul could only see the Risen Lord after three days of blindness. This blindness means more than a physical impediment. He was blind to what God did through his Son. He could not see what happened after Jesus' life, passion and death. It took time for him to realise that the One who spoke in the light was the One who was with him and who acccompanies everyone throughout the whole human history of Salvation. Who are you, Lord?, Paul said. That is what we ask every time we get stuck, when others or circumstances interrupt our ways, either by a great light of joy or by difficulties, suffering and spiritual blindness. Without that light that left Paul blind for so long and made him realise what had just happened, he probably would not  have been able to listen to God’s plan  for him. Sometimes, we need to be interrupted in our way in order to listen to what God wants to say to us.

The resurrection of Christ happens continually in us. The light that Paul saw is also poured on our faces all the time. God is calling us to ask: "Who are you Lord?" Jesus through his resurrection questions us to open our eyes, to stop being blind, as Paul and the disciples of Emmaus experienced. This joy of knowing that Christ is with us after his passion and death invites us to hope in Him, even if resurrection is still awaiting for us. From death to life, from darkness to light, from Good Friday to Easter Sunday, our lives also move towards the One who opened for us the door to Paradise. It is for us to walk on this open way. What happened on this day is too good to be real, but it is real!

So, today we celebrate the defeat of death in order that we may live a new life. We know for certain that we all will die one day, but it is unknown when and how. However, after our death, what will happen? Is it that we are going to experience an easier life than the one we have now, like being on a sabbatical year or permanent holidays to Spain in a very warm and nice weather, accompamied by a very good wine?  In one occasion I heard someone saying: Oh, thank God in heaven I don’t need to do anything or to deal with difficult situations”

The Gospels don’t tell us what the resurrection is about. What the narration after the burial tells us is that the relationship of Jesus with his followers is renewed. The terrified women received the message that Jesus will go before them to Galilee and there he will meet his disciples. So, eternal life is not a prolonged holidays from our duties. It is a renovation in our relationship with Christ. Christ is the centre of our lives and through him we make sense of our own lives. As we mentioned Martha’s affirmation about resurrection on the last day, we then contemplate Jesus answer to her: “I am the Resurrection and the Life.” Those who believe in me even if he die, will live.” This explanation given by Jesus Himself allows us to understand within our limitations what resurrection means for us.

It is that through this relationship that the good thief experienced the resurrection in Christ. It is through the resurrection of Christ that many rose from the dead with Him on that very day, as the Gospel tells us. It is that through the intimate relation of Mary with her Son, she was lifted up to heaven. It is through our relation with Jesus that we begin our journey in this life that we may resurrect with him on the last day. The close relationship was initiated by the same Jesus at the very first Eucharist where His Body and Blood allows us to become one with Him. Thus, even if we die one day and in some place, our relationship with the Risen Lord allows us to defeat death and to enter into a new way of existence.

All of us have experienced death of our relatives and friends. Death remains a painful experience because it takes away people we love and care. Death has in its definition an end, end of physical abilities and of sounds of communication. People who die cannot eat, drink or say anything. But our relationship with friends and family remains. In Christ, this relation becomes unique He is the one who makes this relationship possible. We believe that our friends and family will rise as well, and in Christ we can become united with them again. On this day of Easter Sunday, Christ allows us to see further, to look up and meet others in Him: “I am the resurrection and the Life”

When we see the One who is the Resurrection and the Life, we face death. We become free to love, free to do what is right, free to give our lives away. This is what the Apostles experienced at martyrdom; this is what Christians for centuries understood about death. Now, we are called to do the same thing. Let us allow ourselves to be free to love, to do what is right, to give our lives away. The door has been opened by Jesus, in order that we may receive and hold on to the One who is the Resurrection and the Life.

Happy Easter!





Easter Sunday 2013:

                “Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in; he saw and he believed.” What did the other disciple see and what did he believe? He saw nothing but an empty tomb with the linen cloths lying on the ground. At the end of the gospel we are told what he believed, “that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,” and that we have life in his Name. On that first Easter Day, St John has the Beloved Disciple come to faith in the risen Lord on the evidence of an empty tomb alone. 

The Letter of the Hebrews says, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The joy and beauty of our Easter celebrations do not alter the fact that the true significance of this day is far harder for us to appreciate than the meaning of Christmas. We believe that God stepped into our world at Bethlehem to become part of human history and this causes a ray of light to fall even on those who do not share our faith. Passion and death are also easy to accept. They reflect the world in which we live and our own experience of suffering. Much as we try to avoid the thought, we know that death awaits us all and that one day we will give in to a force far greater than ourselves. So we celebrate Holy Week, especially Good Friday, without difficulty, grateful that God has shared with us the anguish and pain of suffering and death. But Easter is different. In his resurrection Jesus has not entered into the ordinary life of human beings; rather he has broken through its limitations and entered a new realm beyond our understanding. This is unknown territory for us all. God leads us into a vast, uncharted expanse and encourages us to follow him. Since we are only acquainted with things on this side of the grave, there is nothing in our experience that connects us with the news that Jesus is risen from the dead. Easter centres on something unimaginable and, in human thought and language, inexplicable and indescribable. 

The doubts of the disciples and their confusion cry out to us from every page of the resurrection accounts, culminating in the words of Thomas, “Unless I see the holes that the nails made in his hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.” Then, like Cleopas and his companion on the road to Emmaus, there is their inability to recognise Jesus. Only when he was at table with them were their eyes opened when they recognised him in the breaking of bread.

 One of the strangest features of the resurrection narratives is his otherness or unrecognisability. For most of the disciples, an encounter with the risen Christ begins as a meeting with a stranger and Jesus often condemns the inadequacy of their earlier understanding. Mary Magdalene thought he was the gardener and asks where he has put Jesus. Rowan Williams writes, “Jesus is not what they have thought him to be, and thus they must ‘learn’ him afresh, as if from the beginning.

 Once again, John crystallises this most powerfully by presenting the disciples in their fishing boats, as if they had never known Jesus: they must begin again.” 

 Neither the disciples nor the evangelists, nor has the Church ever tried to iron out the differences between the various accounts of the Resurrection. The risen Christ was not a projection of the hopes of the first Christian community. The Resurrection of Jesus remains the greatest of all mysteries and yet it lies at the very heart of the Christian faith. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” 

The Church has always translated the Easter message into symbols, which point to things that words cannot express. The Paschal fire and the Paschal candle, for wherever light conquers darkness, something of the Resurrection takes place. Water, which can be both life-giving and life-threatening, is blessed for baptism so that we might die to sin and rise to new life in Christ. We bless people and things with holy water in order to establish oases of life and hope in the desert places of our world. 

With the constant singing of Alleluia, we join the song of the angels and saints in heaven, where every tear shall be wiped away and every sorrow and lament be ended. Like the beloved disciple we have seen and have believed, and we live in hope. We do not ask to see more than an empty tomb and we must be content to recognise Jesus in the breaking of bread and to hear his voice as he explains the Scriptures to us. Every day, encouraged by the celebration of the Easter mystery, we learn anew what it means to be a disciple of the Risen Saviour as we walk in faith. 

Faith is the greatest adventure there is, an invitation to go much further than we had anticipated or foreseen. It is a window that opens out into eternal life. Jesus asks us not to be afraid, but to trust in him and to follow him through darkness into light and from death to life. To Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, be glory and praise of ever. Alleluia. Amen.

(thanks to Irenikon & Mary Lanser)
From the Easter Sermon by Saint John Chrysotom:
 Is there anyone who is a devout lover of God? Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival! Is there anyone who is a grateful servant? Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!
Are there any weary with fasting? Let them now receive their wages! If any have toiled from the first hour, let them receive their due reward; If any have come after the third hour, let him with gratitude join in the Feast! And he that arrived after the sixth hour, let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss. And if any delayed until the ninth hour, let him not hesitate; but let him come too. And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour, let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.
For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first. He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour, as well as to him that toiled from the first. To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows. He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor. The deed He honors and the intention He commends.
  Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord! First and last alike receive your reward; rich and poor, rejoice together! Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!
You that have kept the fast, and you that have not, rejoice today for the Table is richly laden! Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one. Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith. Enjoy all the riches of His goodness! 
Let no one grieve at his poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed. Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again; for forgiveness has risen from the grave. Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free. He has destroyed it by enduring it.
He destroyed Hades when He descended into it. He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh. Isaias foretold this when he said, "You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."
Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with. It was in an uproar because it is mocked. It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed. It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated. It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive. Hell took a body, and discovered God. It took earth, and encountered Heaven. It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see. O death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory?  Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are annihilated! Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down! Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and life is liberated! Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead; for Christ having risen from the dead, is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!

THE POPE.S WORDS TO THE CARDINALS BEFORE THE CONCLAVE & HOLY WEEK, WHAT DOES IT SAY ABOUT THE POPE?

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ROME, March 27, 2013 – It is a widespread opinion, confirmed by numerous testimonies, that the intention of electing pope Jorge Mario Bergoglio grew substantially among the cardinals on the morning of Saturday, March 9, when the then-archbishop of Buenos Aires spoke at the second to last of the congregations - covered by secrecy - that preceded the conclave.

His words made an impression on many. Bergoglio spoke off the cuff. But we now have the account of those words of his, written by the hand of the author himself.

Bergoglio's remarks in the preconclave were made public by the cardinal of Havana, Jaime Lucas Ortega y Alamino, in the homily of the chrism Mass that he celebrated on Saturday, March 23 in the cathedral of the capital of Cuba, in the presence of the apostolic nuncio, Archbishop  Bruno Musarò, of the auxiliary bishops Alfredo Petit and Juan de Dios Hernandez, and of the clergy of the diocese.

Cardinal Ortega recounted that after the remarks of Bergoglio in the preconclave, he had approached him to ask if he had a written text that he could keep.

Bergoglio responded that at the moment he did not have one. But the following day - Ortega recounted - "with extreme delicacy” he gave him “the remarks written in his own hand as he recalled them."

Ortega asked him if he could release the text, and Bergoglio said yes.

The cardinal of Havana renewed the request on March 13 after the end of the conclave, when the archbishop of Buenos Aires had been elected to the chair of Peter. And Pope Francis renewed his authorization.

So on March 26, the photocopy of Bergoglio's manuscript and its transcription in Spanish appeared on the website of “Palabra Nueva," the magazine of the archdiocese of Havana.

Bergoglio's notes are presented in their entirety further below.

In them can be recognized some recurrent traits in his initial preaching as pope. “Spiritual worldliness” as “the worst evil of the Church.” The Church's duty to “come out from itself” in order to evangelize the “peripheries, not only geographical, but existential.”

As on other occasions, here as well Bergoglio borrows the expression “spiritual worldliness” from the Jesuit Henri De Lubac,  one of the greatest theologians of the twentieth century, made a cardinal in his later years by John Paul II.

In his book “Meditations on the Church,” De Lubac defines spiritual worldliness as “the greatest danger, the most perfidious temptation, that which always reemerges insidiously when all the others have been overcome, even being fostered by these same victories.”

And he continues:

"If this spiritual worldliness were to invade the Church and work to corrupt it by attacking it at its very origin, this would be infinitely more disastrous than any other sort of simply moral worldliness. Even worse than the infamous leprosy that, in certain moments of history, has so cruelly disfigured the beloved Bride [the Church - editor's note] when gratification seemed to bring the scandal into her very sanctuary and, represented by a libertine pope, has obscured the face of Christ under precious stones, makeup and beauty marks. . . A subtle humanism inimical to the living God - and, in secret, no less inimical to man - can establish itself in us through a thousand subterfuges."

This citation from De Lubac is in evidence in an article that Bergoglio wrote in 1991 when he was an ordinary Jesuit priest, republished and given in 2005 to the faithful and to the citizens of Buenos Aires, of which he had become archbishop, and now reappears in the first of the books printed in Italy with the texts of the new pope from before his election, entitled: “Guarire dalla corruzione."

Another significant citation in the notes by Bergoglio is where he points out the dangers to the Church when it ceases to be “mysterium lunae."

The "mystery of the moon” is a formula that the Fathers of the Church repeatedly used beginning in the second century to suggest what might be the true nature of the Church and the action that is appropriate to it: like the moon, “the Church shines not with its own light, but with that of Christ” ("fulget Ecclesia non suo sed Christi lumine"), St. Ambrose says. While for Cyril of Alexandria, “the Church is enveloped in the divine light of Christ, which is the only light in the kingdom of souls. There is therefore a single light: in this one light nonetheless shines also the Church, which is not however Christ himself.” 

On this theme and with the title of “Mysterium lunae" a fundamental book was written in 1939 by another Jesuit, Hugo Rahner, a distinguished patrologist.

___________



EVANGELIZING THE PERIPHERIES

by  Jorge Mario Bergoglio

(thanks to Dave Brown)

Reference has been made to evangelization. This is the Church's reason for being. “The sweet and comforting joy of evangelizing” (Paul VI). It is Jesus Christ himself who, from within, impels us.

1) Evangelizing implies apostolic zeal. Evangelizing presupposes in the Church the “parresia" of coming out from itself. The Church is called to come out from itself and to go to the peripheries, not only geographical, but also existential: those of the mystery of sin, of suffering, of injustice, those of ignorance and of the absence of faith, those of thought, those of every form of misery.

2) When the Church does not come out from itself to evangelize it becomes self-referential and gets sick (one thinks of the woman hunched over upon herself in the Gospel). The evils that, in the passing of time, afflict the ecclesiastical institutions have a root in self-referentiality, in a sort of theological narcissism. In Revelation, Jesus says that he is standing at the threshold and calling. Evidently the text refers to the fact that he stands outside the door and knocks to enter. . . But at times I think that Jesus may be knocking from the inside, that we may let him out. The self-referential Church presumes to keep Jesus Christ within itself and not let him out.

3) The Church, when it is self-referential, without realizing it thinks that it has its own light; it stops being the “mysterium lunae" and gives rise to that evil which is so grave, that of spiritual worldliness (according to De Lubac, the worst evil into which the Church can fall): that of living to give glory to one another. To simplify, there are two images of the Church: the evangelizing Church that goes out from itself; that of the “Dei Verbum religiose audiens et fidenter proclamans" [the Church that devoutly listens to and faithfully proclaims the Word of God - editor's note], or the worldly Church that lives in itself, of itself, for itself. This should illuminate the possible changes and reforms to be realized for the salvation of souls.

4) Thinking of the next Pope: a man who, through the contemplation of Jesus Christ and the adoration of Jesus Christ, may help the Church to go out from itself toward the existential peripheries, that may help it to be the fecund mother who lives “by the sweet and comforting joy of evangelizing.”

Rome, March 9, 2013

__________


English translation by Matthew Sherry, Ballwin, Missouri, U.S.A.




First Holy Week for Francis
Powerful gestures. Simplified rituals. A week that has revealed the style of the new pope. But has also raised some questions that have gone unanswered 

by Sandro Magister







ROME, April 1, 2013 – The first Holy Week of Pope Francis has revealed his style even more. In celebration, in preaching, in presence.

The decision to celebrate the Mass "in coena Domini" of Holy Thursday among the inmates of the juvenile detention facility of Casal del Marmo, washing the feet of twelve of them, including those of a Muslim young woman, is likely to serve as a lesson. It has fallen, moreover, on terrain already fertile, because gestures of this kind are not rare. On Good Friday, in Lyon, France, Cardinal Philippe Barbarin went to pray among a group of Romani (gypsies) expelled from a camp dismantled by the authorities. In São Paulo, Brazil, Cardinal Odilo Pedro Scherer took the passion of Jesus in procession through the notorious neighborhood of Carcolandia.

What rather remains without answer is the question about two apparently contrasting attitudes assumed by pope Jorge Mario Bergoglio at the debut of his pontificate.

At Casal del Marmo, he was not afraid to offer to non-Christian young people as well the celebration of the Mass, “culmen et fons" of the life of the Church.

While at the audience of March 16 with journalists he declined to speak the words and make the gesture of blessing, “since many of you," he said, “do not belong to the Catholic Church, others are not believers.”

*

In preaching, Pope Francis has confirmed his concentration on a few essential words, in a form that is certainly effective from the point of view of communication.

In the homily for Palm Sunday, the key passage was where he described the entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem as that of a king whose “royal throne is the wood of the cross.”

In the very brief homily for Holy Thursday at Casal del Marmo, he dwelt upon the significance of service of the washing of the feet.

In the homily for the Easter Vigil, the culminating passage was the following:

"Let the risen Jesus enter your life, welcome him as a friend, with trust: he is life! If up till now you have kept him at a distance, step forward. He will receive you with open arms. If you have been indifferent, take a risk: you won’t be disappointed. If following him seems difficult, don’t be afraid, trust him, be confident that he is close to you, he is with you and he will give you the peace you are looking for and the strength to live as he would have you do."

In any case, the richest and most profound and evocative homily among those pronounced by Pope Francis in the past Holy Week was that for the Chrism Mass of Thursday morning.

The “people” liturgically loaded onto the shoulders of the priest who celebrates, the “peripheries” of the cities and the hearts touched by the messianic oil, the pastors who must take “the odor of the sheep” are images that remain successfully imprinted.

"L'Osservatore Romano" of March 30 revealed that the text of this homily for the Chrism Mass, “with the exception of some additions,” was the same one that Bergoglio had "prepared before he was elected pope and had delivered to his collaborators before leaving for the conclave,” so much so that it was also read at the Chrism Mass celebrated in the cathedral of Buenos Aires.

*

As for the “ars celebrandi," in the liturgies of Holy Week at St. Peter's there was noted a more elevated respect for the symbolism and the splendor of the rituals than that seen at work in the Mass for the beginning of the pontificate.

Here as well, however, with abbreviations that were not always understandable. In particular, it was not clear why at the Easter Vigil, after the singing of the Exultet, the biblical readings were cut to the bone and the first was literally mutilated, with the account of the six days of creation limited to the creation of man alone.

That brevity which in some contexts can find justification and is in effect provided for by the missal made no obvious sense in an Easter Vigil presided over by the pope and attended - in person or via transmission - by a highly motivated faithful people, who were deprived of the fullness of that narration of the “historia salutis" which the liturgy illuminates, on this culminating night of the year, with the lighting of the Easter candle.

In one of his memorable passages, Romano Guardini described the celebration of the Easter liturgy in the basilica of Monreale, Sicily, packed with poor and mostly illiterate farmers, who nonetheless were enchanted by the splendor of the rite: “The sacred ceremony lasted for more than four hours, and yet there was always a lively participation.”

It was precisely on Guardini that the Jesuit Bergoglio wrote the thesis for his doctorate in theology, in Frankfurt in 1986.

__________

THE JESUS PRAYER by Father Lev Gillet (Orth)

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Perhaps I have published this before. Even if that is so, it is worth drawing it to your attention once more!!  I need to read it again too.  Christ is Risen!!

A classic treatise on the Jesus Prayer written by Fr. Lev Gillet, also known through many of his writings as "A Monk of the Eastern Church".

1. THE SHAPE OF THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME

. . . And Jacob asked him and said: Tell me, I pray thee, thy name. And he said: Wherefore is it that thou dost ask after my name? And he blessed him there. Genesis 32:29 

The invocation of the Name of Jesus can be put into many frames. It is for each person to find the form which is the most appropriate to his or her own prayer. But, whatever formula may be used, the heart and centre of the invocation must be the Holy Name itself, the word Jesus. There resides the whole strength of the invocation. 

The Name of Jesus may either be used alone or be inserted in a more or less developed phrase. In the East the commonest form is: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." One might simply say: "Jesus Christ", or "Lord Jesus". The invocation may even be reduced to one single word "Jesus". 

This last form--the Name of Jesus only--is that most ancient mould of the invocation of the Name. It is the shortest, the simplest and, as we think, the easiest. Therefore, without depreciating the other formulas, we suggest that the word "Jesus" alone should be used. 

Thus, when we speak of the invocation of the Name, we mean the devout and frequent repetition of the Name itself, of the word "Jesus" without additions. The Holy Name is the prayer. 

The Name of Jesus may be either pronounced or silently thought. In both cases there is a real invocation of the Name, verbal in the first case, and purely mental in the second. This prayer affords an easy transition from verbal to mental prayer. Even the verbal repetition of the Name, if it is slow and thoughtful, makes us pass to mental prayer and disposes the soul to contemplation.

2. THE PRACTICE OF THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME

. . . And I will wait on thy name. Psalm 52:9. 

The invocation of the Name may be practiced anywhere and at any time. We can pronounce the Name of Jesus in the streets, in the place of our work, in our room, in church, etc. We can repeat the Name while we walk. Besides that "free" use of the Name, not determined or limited by any rule, it is good to set apart certain times and certain places for a "regular" invocation of the Name. One who is advanced in that way of prayer may dispense with such arrangements. But they are an almost necessary condition for beginners. 

If we daily assign a certain time to the invocation of the Name (besides the "free" invocation which should be as frequent as possible), the invocation ought to be practiced--circumstances allowing--in a lonely and quiet place : "Thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and, when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret" (Matthew 6:6). The bodily posture does not matter much. One may walk, or sit down, or lie, or kneel. The best posture is the one which affords most physical quiet and inner concentration. One may be helped by a physical attitude expressing humbleness and worship. 

Before beginning to pronounce the Name of Jesus, establish peace and recollection within yourself and ask for the inspiration and guidance of the Holy Ghost. "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost" (1 Corinthians 12:3). The Name of Jesus cannot really enter a heart that is not being filled by the cleansing breath and the flame of the Spirit. The Spirit himself will breathe and light in us the Name of the Son. 

Then simply begin. In order to walk one must take a first step; in order to swim one must throw oneself into the water. It is the same with the invocation of the Name. Begin to pronounce it with adoration and love. Cling to it. Repeat it. Do not think that you are invoking the Name; think only of Jesus himself. Say his Name slowly, softly and quietly. 

A common mistake of beginners is to wish to associate the invocation of the Holy Name with inner intensity or emotion. They try to say it with great force. But the Name of Jesus is not to be shouted, or fashioned with violence, even inwardly. When Elijah was commanded to stand before the Lord, there was a great and strong wind, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire came a still small voice, "And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood . . . " (I Kings 19.13) Strenuous exertion and the search for intensity will be of no avail. As you repeat the Holy Name, gather quietl little by little, your thoughts and feelings and around it; gather-.around it your whole being. Let the name penetrate your soul as a drop of oil spreads out and impregnates a cloth. Let nothing of yourself escape. Surrender your whole self and enclose it within the Name. 

Even in the act of invocation of the Name, its literal repetition ought not to be continuous. The Name pronounced may be extended and prolonged in seconds or minutes of silent rest and attention. The repetition of the Name may be likened to the beating of wings by which a bird rises into the air. It must never be labored and forced, or hurried, or in the nature of a flapping. It must be gentle, easy and--let us give to this word its deepest meaning-graceful. When the bird has reached the desired height it glides in its flight, and only beats its wing from time to time in order to stay in the air. So the soul, having attained to the thought of Jesus and filled herself with the memory of him, may discontinue the repetition of the Name and rest in Our Lord. The repetition will only be resumed when other thoughts threaten to crowd out the thought of Jesus. Then the invocation will start again in order to gain fresh impetus. 

Continue this invocation for as long as you wish or as you can. The prayer is naturally interrupted by tiredness. Then do not insist. But resume it at any time and wherever you may be, when you feel again so inclined. In time you will find that the name of Jesus will spontaneously come to your lips and almost continuously be present to your mind, though in a quiescent and latent manner. Even your sleep will be impregnated with the Name and memory of Jesus. "I sleep, but my heart waketh" (Song of Songs 5:2). 

When we are engaged in the invocation of the Name, it is natural that we should hope and endeavor to reach some "positive" or "tangible" result, i.e., to feel that we have established a real contact with the person of Our Lord: "If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole" (Matthew 9:21). This blissful experience is the desirable climax of the invocation of the Name : "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me" (Genesis 32:26). But we must avoid an overeager longing for such experiences; religious emotion may easily become a disguise for some dangerous kind of greed and sensuousness. Let us not think that, if we have spent a certain time in the invocation of the Name without "feeling" anything, our time has been wasted and our effort unfruitful. On the contrary this apparently barren prayer may be more pleasing to God than our moments of rapture, because it is pure from any selfish quest for spiritual delight. It is the prayer of the plain and naked will. We should therefore persevere in assigning every day some regular and fixed time to the invocation of the Name, even if it seems to us that this prayer leaves us cold and dry; and such an earnest exertion of the will, such a sober "waiting" on the Name cannot fail to bring us some blessing and strength. 

Moreover, the invocation of the Name seldom leaves us in a state of dryness. Those who have some experience of it agree that it is very often accompanied by an inner feeling of joy, warmth and light. One has an impression of moving and walking in the light. There is in this prayer no heaviness, no languishing, no struggling. "Thy name is as ointment poured forth. . . Draw me; we will run after thee" (Song of Songs 1:3-4).

3. THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME AS A SPIRITUAL WAY

I will strengthen them in the Lord, and they shall walk tip and down in his name. Zechariah 10:22 

The invocation of the Name of Jesus may be simply an episode on our spiritual way (an episode is, etymologically, something that happens "on the way"). Or it may be for us a way, one spiritual way among others. Or it may be the way, the spiritual way which we definitely and predominantly (if not exclusively) choose. In other terms the invocation of the Name may be for us either a transitory act, a prayer which we use for a time and leave it for others; or-more than an act-a method which we continuously use, but in addition to other forms and methods of prayer; or the method around which we ultimately build and organize our whole spiritual life. It all depends on our personal call, circumstances and possibilities. Here we are only concerned with "beginners", with those who wish to acquire the first notions about that prayer and a first contact with the Holy Name, and also with those who, having had this first contact, wish to enter "the way of the Name". As to those who are already able to use the invocation of the Name as a method or as the only method, they do not need our advice. 

We must not come to the invocation of the Name through some whim or arbitrary decision of our own. We must be called to it, led to it by God. If we try to use the invocation of the Name as our main spiritual method, this choice ought to be made out of obedience to, a very special vocation. A spiritual practice and much more a spiritual system grounded on a mere caprice will miserably collapse. So we should be moved towards the Name of Jesus under the guidance of the Holy Spirit; then the invocation of the Name will be in us a fruit of the Spirit itself. 

There is no infallible sign that we are called to the way of the Name. There may be, however, some indications of this call, which we ought to consider humbly and carefully. If we feel drawn towards the invocation of the Name, if this practice produces in us an increase of charity, purity, obedience and peace, if the use of other prayers even is becoming somewhat difficult, we may, not unreasonably, assume that the way of the Name is open to us. 

Anyone who feels the attraction of the way of the Name ought to be careful not to depreciate other forms of prayer. Let us not say: "The invocation of the Name is the best prayer". The best prayer is for everybody the prayer to which he or she is moved by the Holy Spirit, whatever prayer it may be. He who practices the invocation of the Name must also curb the temptation of an indiscreet and premature propaganda on behalf of this form of prayer. Let us not hasten to say to God: "I will declare thy name unto my brethren" (Psalm 22:22), if he is not especially entrusting us with this mission. We should rather humbly keep the secrets of the Lord. 

What we may say with soberness and truth is this. The invocation of the Name of Jesus simplifies and unifies our spiritual life. No prayer is simpler than this "one-word prayer" in which the Holy Name becomes the only focus of the whole life. Complicated methods often tire and dissipate thought. But the Name of Jesus easily gathers everything into itself. It has a power of unification and integration. The divided personality which could say: "My name is legion, for we are many" (Mark 5:6) will recover its wholeness in the sacred Name: " Unite my heart to fear thy name" (Psalm 86:11). 

The invocation of the Name of Jesus ought not to be understood as a "mystical way" which might spare us the ascetical purifications. There is no short cut in spiritual life. The way of the Name implies a constant watch over our souls. Sin has to be avoided. Only there are two possible attitudes in this respect. Some may guard their mind, memory and will in order to say the Holy Name with greater recollection and love. Others will say the Holy Name in order to be more recollected and wholehearted in their love. To our mind the latter is the better way. The Name itself is a means of purification and perfection, a touchstone, a filter through which our thoughts, words and deeds have to pass to be freed from their impurities. None of them ought to be admitted by us until we pass them through the Name,--and the Name excludes all sinful elements. Only that will be received which is compatible with the Name of Jesus. We shall fill our hearts to the brim with the Name and thought of Jesus, holding it carefully, like a precious vessel, and defending it against all alien tampering and admixture. This is a severe asceticism. It requires a forgetfulness of self, a dying to self, as the Holy Name grows in our souls: "He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30). 

We have to consider the invocation of the Holy Name in relation to other forms of prayer. Of liturgical prayer and of the prayers fixed by some Community rule we shall say nothing, as we are only concerned here with individual and private prayer. We do not disparage or undervalue in the least liturgical prayer and the prayers settled by obedience. Their corporate character and their very fixity render them extremely helpful. But it is for Churchmen and Community members to ascertain whether or how far the invocation of the Name of Jesus is compatible, in their own case, with the official formularies. Questions may be raised about some other forms of individual prayer. What about the "dialogue prayer", in which we listen and speak to God at about the purely contemplative and wordless prayer, "prayer of quiet" and "prayer of union"? Must we leave these for the invocation of the Holy Name, or inversely. Or should we use both? The answer must be left for God to give in each individual case. In some rare cases the divine call to the invocation of the Name may be exclusive of all other forms of prayer. But we think that, generally speaking, the way of the Name is broad and free; it is, in most cases, perfectly compatible with moments of listening to the inner Word and answering it and with intervals of complete inner silence. Besides, we must never forget that the best form of prayer which we can make at any given moment is that to which we are moved by the Holy Spirit. 

The advice and discreet guidance of some spiritual "elder" who has a personal experience of the way of the Name may very often be found useful by the beginner. We personally would recommend resort to some such conductor. It is, however, not indispensable. "When the Spirit of truth is come, he will guide you into all truth" (John 16:13).

4. THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME AS WORSHIP

. . . I will glorify thy name for evermore. Psalm 86:l2 

We have considered until now the invocation of the Name of Jesus in a general manner. Now we must consider the diverse aspects of this invocation. The first aspect is adoration and worship. 

Too often our prayers are limited to petition, intercession and repentance. As we shall see the Name of Jesus can be used in all these ways. But the disinterested prayer, the praise given to God because of His own excellency the regard directed towards Him with the utmost respect and affection, the exclamation of Thomas: "My Lord and my God!"--this ought to come first. 

The invocation of the Name of Jesus must bring Jesus to our mind. The Name is the symbol and bearer of the Person of Christ. Otherwise the invocation of the Name would, be mere verbal idolatry. "The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life" (II Corinthians 3:6). The presence of Jesus is the real content and the substance of the Holy Name. The Name both signifies Jesus' presence and brings its reality. 

This leads to pure adoration. As we pronounce the Name, we should respond to the presence of Our Lord. "They . . . fell down and worshipped him" (Matthew 2:11). To. pronounce thoughtfully the Name of Jesus is to know the allness of Our Lord and our own nothingness. In this knowledge we shall adore and worship. "God also hath highly exalted him and given him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow" (Philippians 2:9-10).

5. THE HOLY NAME AS A MYSTERY OF SALVATION

. . . Save me, 0 God, by thy name. Psalm 54.1 

The Name of Jesus brings us more than his presence. Jesus is present in his Name as Savior, for the word "Jesus" means just this: savior or salvation. "Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). Jesus began his earthly mission by healing and forgiving, i.e., by saving men. In the same manner the very beginning of the way of the Name is the knowledge of Our Lord as our personal Savior. The invocation of the Name brings deliverance to us in all our necessities. 

The Name of Jesus not only helps us to obtain the fulfillment of our needs ("Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you. Hitherto have ye asked, nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive" (John 16:23-24) ). But the Name of Jesus already supplies our needs. When we require the succour of Our Lord we should pronounce his Name in faith and hope, believing that we already receive in it what we ask for. Jesus Himself is the supreme satisfaction of all men's needs. And He is that now, as we pray. Let us not regard our prayer in relation to fulfillment in the future, but in relation to fulfillment in Jesus now. He is more than the giver of what we and others need, He is also the gift. He is both giver and gift, containing in Himself all good things. If I hunger he is my food. If I am cold he is my warmth. If I am ill he is my health. If I am persecuted he is my deliverance. If I am impure he becomes my purity. He "is made unto us . . . righteousness, and sanctification and redemption" (I Corinthians 1:30). This is quite another thing than if he had merely given them to us. Now we may find in his Name all that He is. Therefore the Name of Jesus, in so far as it links us with Jesus Himself, is already a mystery of salvation. 

The Name of Jesus brings victory and peace when we are tempted. A heart already filled with the Name and presence of Our Lord would not let in any sinful image or thought. But we are weak, and often our defenses break down, and then temptation rises within us like angry waters. In such case do not consider the temptation, do not argue with your own desire, do not think upon the storm, do not look at yourself. Look at Our Lord, clinging to Him, call upon His holy Name. When Peter, walking upon the waters to come to Jesus, saw the tempest, "he was afraid" (Matthew 14:30) and began to sink. If, instead of looking at the waves and listening to the wind, we single-heartedly walk upon the waters towards Jesus, He will stretch forth his hand and take hold of us. The Name may then be of great use, as it is a definite, concrete and powerful shape able to resist the strong imagery of temptation. When tempted, call upon the Holy Name persistently, but quietly and gently. Do not shout it nor say it with anxiety or passion. Let it penetrate the soul little by little, till all thoughts and feelings come together and coalesce around it. Let it exercise its power of polarization. It is the Name of the Prince of Peace; it must be invoked in peace, and then it will bring us peace, or, better still, it will (like Him whose symbol it is) be our peace. 

The Name of Jesus brings forgiveness and reconciliation. When we have grievously sinned (and so much the more when we have sinned lightly), we can, within one second, cling to the Holy Name with repentance and charity and pronounce it with our whole- heart, and the Name thus used (and through which we have reached the person of Christ) will already be a token of pardon. After sin let us not "hang about", delay and linger. Let us not hesitate to take up again the invocation of the Name, in spite of our unworthiness. A new day is breaking and Jesus stands on the shore. "When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord he . . cast himself into the sea" (John 21:7). Act like Simon. Say "Jesus", as though beginning life afresh. We sinners shall find Our Lord anew at the invocation of His Name. He comes to us at that moment and as we are. He begins again where He has left us, or rather, where we have left Him. When he appeared to the disciples after the Resurrection, He came to them as they were-unhappy, and lost, and guilty-and, without reproaching them with their past defection, He simply entered anew into their everyday life. ". . . . He said unto them: 'Have ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish and of an honeycomb'" (Luke 24:41-42). In the same manner, when we say "Jesus" again, after an act of sin or a period of estrangement, He does not require from us long apologies for the past, but He wants us to mix, as before, His Person and his Name with the detail and routine of our iife--with our broiled fish and our honeycomb--and to re-plunge them in the very middle of our existence. 

Thus the Holy Name can bring about reconciliation after our actual sins. But it can give us a more general and fundamental experience of the divine forgiveness. We can pronounce the Name of Jesus and put into it the whole reality of the cross, the whole mystery of the atonement. If we link the Name with faith in Jesus as propitiation for the sins of all men, we find in the Holy Name the sign of the Redemption extended to all times and to the whole universe. Under this Name we find "the lamb slain from the foundation of the world" (Revelation 13:8), "the lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world" (John 1:29). 

All this does not gainsay or tend to lessen the objective means of penitence and remission of sins offered to us by the Church. We are here only concerned with the hidden life of the soul. What we have in view is the inner absolution which repentance produced by charity already obtains, the absolution which the publican received after his prayer in the temple and of which the Gospel says: "This man went down to his house justified" (Luke 18:14).

6. THE NAME OF JESUS AND THE INCARNATION

. . . And the Word became flesh. John 1:14 

We have considered the "saving" power of the Holy Name; we must now go further. In proportion as the Name of Jesus grows within us, we grow in the knowledge of the divine mysteries. The Holy Name is not only a mystery of salvation, the fulfillment of our needs, the abatement of our temptations, the forgiveness of our sins. The invocation of the Name is also a means of applying to ourselves the mystery of the Incarnation.It is a powerful means of union with Our Lord. To be united to Christ is even more blessed than to stand before Him or to be saved through Him. Union is greater than presence and meditation. 

You may pronounce the Name of Jesus in order "that Christ may dwell in your hearts" (Ephesians 3:17). You may, when His Name is formed on your lips, experience the reality of His coming in the soul: "I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20). You may enthrone His Person and His Name, as signifying the Person, within yourselves "They have built Thee a sanctuary therein for Thy name" (II Chronicles 20:8). It is the "I in them" of Our Lord's priestly prayer (John 17:26). Or we may throw ourselves into the Name and feel that we are the members of the Body of Christ and the branches of the true vine. "Abide in me" (John 15:4). Of course nothing can abolish the difference between the Creator and the creature. But there is, made possible by the Incarnation, a real union of mankind and of our own persons with Our Lord,--a union which the use of the Name of Jesus may express and strengthen. 

Some analogy exists between the Incarnation of The Word and the indwelling of the Holy Narne within us. The Word was made flesh. Jesus became man. The inner reality of the Name of Jesus, having passed into our souls, overflows into our bodies. "Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14). The living content of the Name enters physically into ourselves. "Thy Name is as ointment poured forth" (Song of Songs 1:3). The Name, if I repeat it with faith and love, becomes a strength able to paralyze and overcome "the law of sin which is in my members" (Romans 7:23). We can also put on ourselves the Name of Jesus as a kind of physical seal keeping our hearts and bodies pure and consecrated: "Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm" (Song of Songs 8:6). But this physical seal is not a piece of wax or lead. It is the outward sign and the Name of the living Word.

7. THE NAME OF JESUS AND TRANSFIGURATION

. . . The fulness of Him that filleth all in all. Ephesians 1:2-3 

The use of the Holy Name not only brings anew the knowledge of our own union with Jesus in His Incarnation. The Name is also an instrument by which we may obtain a wider view of Our Lord's relation to all that God has made. The Name of Jesus helps us 'to transfigure the world into Christ (without any pantheistic confusion). Here is another aspect of the invocation of the Name: it is a method of transfiguration. 

It is so in regard to nature. The natural universe may be considered as the handiwork of the Creator: " . . . The Lord that made heaven and earth" (Psalm 134:3). It can be considered as the visible symbol of the invisible divine beauty: "The heavens declare the glory of God" (Psalm 19:1). . . . "Consider the lilies of the field. . . " (Matthew 6:28). And yet all this is insufficient. Creation is not static. It moves, striving and groaning, towards Christ as its fulfillment and end. "The whole creation groaneth and travail in pain" (Romans 8:22) till it be "delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God" (Romans 8:21). What we call the inanimate world is carried along by a Christward movement. All things were converging towards the Incarnation. The natural elements and the products of the earth, rock and wood, water and oil, corn and wine, were to acquire a new meaning and to become signs and means of grace. All creation mysteriously utters the Name of Jesus: "I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out" (Luke 19:40). It is the utterance of this Name that Christians should hear in nature. By pronouncing the Name of Jesus upon the natural things, upon a stone or a tree, a fruit or a flower, the sea or a landscape, or whatever it is, the believer speaks aloud the secret of these things, he brings them to their fulfillment, he gives an answer to their long and apparently dumb awaiting. "For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God" (Romans 8.19). We shall say the Name Jesus in union with all creation: " . , . at the name of Jesus every knee should, bow, of things in heaven and things in earth and thing under the earth . . ." (Philippians 2.10). 

The animal world may also be transfigured by us. When Jesus remained forty days in the wilderness, he "was with the wild beasts" (Mark 1.13). We do not know what happened, then, but we may be assured that no living creature is left untouched by Jesus' influence. Jesus himself said of the sparrows that "not one of them is forgotten before God" (Luke 12.6). We are like Adam when he had to give a name to all the animals. "Out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them" (Genesis 2.19). Scientists call them as they think fit. As to us, if we invoke the Name of Jesus upon the animals, we give them back their primitive dignity which we so easily forget, - the dignity of living beings being created and cared for by God in Jesus and for Jesus. "That was the name thereof " (Genesis 2.19). 

It is mainly in relation to men that we can exercise a ministry of transfiguration. The risen Christ appeared several times under an aspect which was no longer the one his disciples knew. "He appeareth in another form . . . " (Mark 16.12); the form of a traveller on the road to Emmaus, or of a gardener near the tomb, or of a stranger standing on the shore of the lake. It was each time in the form of an ordinary man such as we may meet in our everyday life. Jesus thus illustrated an important aspect of his presence among us, - his presence in man. He was thus completing what he had taught: "I was an hungered and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty and ye gave me drink ... naked and ye clothed me. I was sick, and ye visited me. I was in prison, and ye came unto me . . . Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me" (Matthew 25.35-36, 40). Jesus appears now to us under the features of men and women. Indeed this human form is now the only one under which everybody can, at will, at any time and in any place, see the Face of Our Lord. Men of today are realistically minded; they do not live on abstractions and phantoms; and when the saints and the mystics come and tell them "We have seen the Lord", they answer with Thomas: "Except I shall ... put my finger into the print of the nails and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe" (John 20.25). Jesus accepts this challenge. He allows Himself to be seen and touched, and spoken to in the person of all his human brethren and sisters. To us as to Thomas He says: "Reach hither thy hand and thrust it into my side, and be not faithless, but believing" (John 20.27). Jesus shows us the poor, and the sick, and the sinners, and generally all men, and tells us: "Behold, my hands and my feet. . . Handle me and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have" (Luke 24.39). Men and women are the flesh and bones, the hands and feet, the pierced side of Christ, -- His mystical Body. In them we can experience the reality of the Resurrection and the real presence (though without confusion of essence) of the Lord Jesus. If we do not see Him, it is because of our unbelief and hard-heartedness : "Their eyes were holden that they should not know Him" (Luke 24.16). Now the Name of Jesus is a concrete and powerful means of transfiguring men into their hidden, innermost, utmost reality. We should approach all men and women -- in the street, the shop, the office, the factory, the 'bus, the queue, and especially those who seem irritating and antipathetic -- with the Name of Jesus in our heart and on our lips. We should pronounce His Name over them all, for their real name is the Name of Jesus. Name them with his Name, within His Name, in a spirit of adoration, dedication and service. Adore Christ in them, serve Christ in them. In many of these men and women -- in the malicious, in the criminal -- Jesus is imprisoned. Deliver Him by silently recognizing and worshipping Him in them. If we go through the world with this new vision, saying "Jesus" over every man, seeing Jesus in every man, everybody will be transformed and transfigured before our eyes. The more we are ready to give of our-selves to men, the more will the new vision be clear and vivid. The vision cannot be severed from the gift. Rightly did Jacob say to Esau, when they were recon-ciled: "I pray thee, if now I have found grace in thy sight, then receive my present at my hand, for therefore I have seen thy face as though I had seen the face of God" (Genesis 33.10).

8. THE NAME OF JESUS AND THE CHURCH

. . . To gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth. Ephesians 1.10. 

In pronouncing the Name of Jesus we inwardly meet all them that are united with Our Lord, all them of whom He said: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Mathew 18.20). 

We should find all men in the heart of Jesus and in His love. We should throw all men into His Name and enclose them therein. Long lists of inter-cessions are not necessary. We may apply the Name of Jesus to the name of this or that person who is in par-ticular need. But all men and all just causes are already gathered together within the Name of Our Lord. Adhering to Jesus is to become one with Him in His solicitude and loving kindness for them. Adhering to Our Lord's own intercession for them is better than to plead with Him on their behalf. 

Where Jesus is, there is the Church. Whoever is in Jesus is in the Church. If the invocation of the Holy Name is a means of union with Our Lord, it is, also a means of union with that Church which is in Him and which no human sin can touch. This does not mean that we are closing our eyes to the problems of the Church on earth, to the imperfections and disunity of Christians. But we only deal here with this eternal, and spiritual, and "unspotted" side of the Church which is implied in the Name of Jesus. The Church thus considered transcends all earthly reality. No schism can rend her. Jesus said to the Samaritan woman: "Believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father . . The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth" (John 4 21,23). There is an apparent contradiction in the words of Our Lord: how could the hour be still coming and yet already be? This paradox finds its explanation in the fact that the Samaritan woman was then standing before Christ. On the one hand the historical opposition between Jerusalem and Garizim still existed, and Jesus, far from treating it as a trifling circumstance, emphasized the higher claims of Jerusalem: "Ye worship ye know not what. We know what we worship: for salvation is of the Jews" (John 4.22). In that sense the hour was not yet, but was still coming. On the other hand the hour already was, because the woman had before her Him who is greater than Jerusalem or Garizim, Him who "will tell us all things" (John 4.25) and in Whom alone we can fully "worship in spirit and in truth" (John 4.24). The same situation arises when, invoking the Name of Jesus, we cling to His Person. Assuredly we do not believe that all the conflicting interpretations of the Gospel which we hear on earth are equally true nor that the divided Christian groups have the same measure of light. But, fully pronouncing the Name of Jesus, entirely surrendered to His Person and His claims, we implicitly share in the wholeness of the Church, and so we experience her essential unity, deeper than all our human separations. 

The invocation of the Name of Jesus helps us to meet again, in Him, all our departed. Martha was wrong when, speaking of Lazarus, she said to our Lord: "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day" (John 11.24). Overlooking the present she was project-ing all her faith into the future. Jesus corrected her mis-take : "I am the resurrection and the life" (John 11.25). The life and the resurrection of the departed is not merely a future event (although the resurrection of the individual bodies is such). The person of the risen Christ already is the resurrection and the life of all men. Instead of trying to establish -- in our prayer, or in our memory, or in our imagination -- a direct spiritual contact.with our departed, we should try to reach them within Christ, where their true life now is. One can, therefore, say that the invo-cation of the Name of Jesus is the best prayer for the departed. The invocation of the Name, giving us the presence of Our Lord, makes them also present to us. And our linking of the Holy Name with their own names is our work of love on their behalf. 

These departed, whose life is now hidden with Christ, form the heavenly Church. They belong to the total and eternal Church, of which the Church now mili-tant on earth is but a very small part. We meet in the Name of Jesus the whole company of the Saints: "His Name shall be in their foreheads" (Revelation 22.4). In it we meet the angels; it is Gabriel who, first on earth, announced the Holy Name, saying to Mary: "Thou shalt call his name Jesus" (Luke 1.31). In it we meet the woman "blessed among women" to whom Gabriel spoke these words and who so often called her son by His name. May the Holy Spirit make us desire to hear the Name of Jesus as the Virgin Mary first beard it and to repeat that Name as Mary and Gabriel uttered it! May our own invocation of the Name enter this abyss of adoration, obedience and tenderness!

9. THE NAME OF JESUS AS EUCHARIST

. . . This do in remembrance of me. Luke, 22.1,9 

The mystery of the Upper Room was a summing -up of the whole life and mission of Our Lord. The sacra-mental Eucharist lies outside the scope of the present considerations. But there is a "eucharistic" use of the Name of Jesus in which all the aspects which we have seen till now are gathered and unified. 

Our soul also is an Upper Room where an invisible Lord's Supper may be celebrated at any time. Our Lord secretly tells us, as of old: "With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you (Luke 22.15) . . . Where is the guest-chamber where I shall eat the passover with my disciples (Luke 22.11) . . . There make ready" (Luke 22.11). These words do not solely apply to the visible Lord's Supper. They also apply to his interior Eucharist, which, though only spiritual is very real. In the visible Eucharist Jesus is offered under the signs of bread and wine. In the Eucharist within us He can be signified and designated by His Name alone. Therefore the invocation of Holy Name may be made by us a Eucharist. 

The original meaning of "eucharist" is: thanksgiving. Our inner Lord's Supper will first be a thanks-giving over the great gift, the gift made to us by the Father in the person of His Son. "By him . . . let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually . . . " (Hebrews 13.15). The Scripture immediately explains the nature of this sacrifice of praise: " . . . that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His name." So the idea of the Name is linked with that of thanksgiving. Not only may we, while pronouncing Jesus' Name, thank the Father for having given us His Son or direct our praise towards the Name of the Son himself, but we may make of the Name of the Son the substance and support of the sacrifice of praise rendered to the Father, the expression of our grati-tude and our offering, of thanks. 

Every Eucharist is an offering. "That they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness " (Malachi 3.3). We cannot offer to the Father a better offering than the person of His Son Jesus. This offering alone is worthy of the Father. Our offering of Jesus to His Father is one with the offering which Jesus is eternally making of Himself, for how could we, alone, offer Christ? In order to give a concrete shape to our offering we shall probably find it helpful to pronounce the Name of Jesus. We shall present the Holy Name to God as though it were bread and wine. 

The Lord, in His Supper, offered to His disciples bread which was broken and wine which was shed. He offered a life which was given, His body and blood ready for the immolation. When we inwardly offer Jesus to his Father, we shall always offer Him as a victim- -- both slain and triumphant: "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive . . . honor, and glory, and bless-ing" (Revelation 5.12). Let us pronounce the Name of Jesus with the awareness that we are washed and made "white in the blood of the Lamb" (Revelation 7.14). This is the sacrificial use of the Holy Name. This does not mean that we think of a new sacrifice of the cross. The Holy Name, sacrificially used, is but a means to apply to us, here and now, the fruits of the oblation once for all made and perfect. It helps us, in the exercise of the universal priesthood, to make spiritually actual and, present the eternal sacrifice of Christ. The sacrificial use of the Name of Jesus will also remind us that we cannot be one with Jesus, priest and victim if we do not offer within Him, within His Name, our own soul and body: "In burnt offerings and sacri-fices for sin thou hast had no pleasure : Then said I, Lo, I come" (Hebrews 10.6-7). 

There is no Lord's Supper without a communion. Our inner Eucharist also is what tradition has called "spiritual communion", that is, a feeding by faith on the Body and Blood of Christ without using the visible elements of bread and wine. "The bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world. . . I am that bread of life" (John 6.33,48). Jesus always re-mains the bread of life which we can receive as a food, even when we do not partake of any sacramental element : "It is the spirit that quickeneth; The flesh profiteth nothing" (John 6.63). We can have a purely spiritual and invisible access to the Body and Blood of Christ. This Inner, but very real, mode of approach to Our Lord is something distinct from any other approach to His Person, for here is a special gift and benefit, a special grace, a special relationship between Our Lord, as both feeder and food, and ourselves partaking (though invisibly) of that food. Now this spiritual communion of the divine Bread of life, of the Body and Blood of the Saviour, becomes easier when it is given expression in the Holy Name, receiving from the Name of Jesus its shape, its frame and support. We can pronounce the Name of Our Lord with the special intention of feeding our soul on it, or rather on the sacred Body and precious Blood which we try to approach through it. Such a com-munion may be renewed as often as we desire. Far from us the error of treating lightly or lowering in esteem the Lord's Supper as practised in the Church. But it is to be hoped that everybody who follows the way of the Name may experience that the Name of Jesus is a spiritual food and communicates to hungry souls the Bread of life. "Lord, evermore give us this bread" (John 6.34). In this bread, in this Name, we find ourselves united with all them that share in the same Messianic meal: "We being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread" (1 Corinthians 10.17). 

Through the Eucharist we "do show the Lord's death till he come" (1 Corinthians 11.26). The Eucharist is an anticipation of the eternal Kingdom. This "eucharistic" use of the Name of Jesus leads us to its "eschatological" use, that is, to the invocation of the Name in connection with the "end" and with the Coming of Our Lord. Each invocation of the Holy Name should be an ardent aspiration to our final re-union with Jesus in be heavenly kingdom. Such an aspiration is related to the end of the world and the triumphal Coming of Christ, but it has a nearer reIa-tion to the occasional (and, as we should ask, more and more frequent) breakings in of Christ into our earthly existence, His wonderful forcible entrances into our, everyday life, and still more to the Coming of Christ to us at the time of our death . There is a way of saying "Jesus" which is a preparation for death, an aspiration towards death conceived as the long-expected appearing of the Friend "whom having not seen, ye love" (1 Peter 1.8), a call for this supreme meeting, and here and now a throw-ing of our heart beyond the barrier. In that way of say-ing "Jesus", the longing utterance of Paul, "When Christ, who is our life, shall appear. . . " (Colossians 3.4) and the cry of John, "Come, Lord Jesus" (Revelation 22.20), are already implied.

10. THE NAME OF JESUS AND THE HOLY SPIRIT

. . . I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon him. John, 1-32 

The Name of Jesus occupied a pre-eminent place in the message and action of the Apostles. They were preaching in the Name of Jesus, healing the sick in His Name; they were saying to God: "Grant unto thy ser-vants . . . that signs and wonders may be done by the name of thy holy child Jesus" (Acts 4.29,30). Through them "the name of the Lord Jesus was magnified" (Acts 19.17). It is only after Pentecost that the Apostles announced the Name "with power". Jesus had told them: "Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you" (Acts 1.8). In this "Pentecostal" use of the Name of Jesus we find clear evidence of the link between the Spirit and the Name. Such a Pentecostal use of the Name is not restricted to the Apostles. It is not only of the Apostles, but of all "them that believe" that Jesus said : "In. my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues . . . they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover" (Mark 16.17-18). Only our lack of bold faith and charity prevents us from calling upon the Name in the power of the Spirit. If we really follow the way of the Name, a time must come when we become able (without pride, without looking at ourselves) to manifest the glory of Our Lord and to help other men through "signs". He whose heart is become a vessel of the Holy Name should not hesitate to go about and repeat to those who need spiritual or bodily relief the words of Peter: "Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk" (Acts 3.6). 0 that the Spirit of Pentecost may come and write within us the Name of Jesus in flames! 

The Pentecostal use of the Name is but one aspect of our approach to the Holy Ghost through the Name of Jesus. The Name will lead us to some other and more inward experiences of the Spirit. While pronouncing the Name we may obtain a glimpse of the relationship between the Spirit and Jesus. There is a certain attitude of the Spirit towards Jesus and a certain attitude of Jesus towards the Spirit. In repeating the Name of Jesus we find ourselves at the crossroads, so to speak, where these two "movements" meet. 

When Jesus was baptized "The Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape like a dove upon Him" (Luke 3.22). The descent of the dove is the best expression of the atti-tude of the Spirit towards Our Lord. Now let us, while saying the Name of Jesus, try to coincide, if we may say with the Jesus-ward movement of the Spirit, with the Spirit directed by the Father' towards Jesus, looking to Jesus, coming to Jesus. Let us try to unite ourselves -- as much as a creature can unite itself to a divine action -- to this flight of the dove ("Oh that I had wings like a dove . . . " (Psalm 55.6)) and to the tender feelings expressed by her voice: "The voice of the turtle is heard in our land" (Song of Songs 2.12). Before making "intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered" (Romans 8.26), the Spirit was and eternally remain sighing after Jesus. The book of Revelation shows us the Spirit, together with the Bride (that is, the Church), crying to Our Lord. When we utter the Name of Jesus, we can conceive it as the sigh and aspiration of the Holy Ghost, as the expression of the Spirit's desire and yearn-ing. We shall thus be admitted (according to our feeble human capacity) into the-mystery of the loving relation-ship between the Holy Ghost and the Son. 

Conversely the Name of Jesus may also help us to coincide with the attitude of Our Lord towards the Spirit. Jesus was conceived by Mary "of the Holy Ghost" (Matthew 1.20). He remained during His whole earthly life (and still remains) the perfect receiver of the Gift, He let the Spirit take complete possession of Him, being "led up of the Spirit" (Matthew 4.1) or driven by it. He cast out devils "by the Spirit of God" (Matthew 12.28). He returned from the desert "in the power of the Spirit" (Luke 4.14). He declared: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Luke 4.18). In all this Jesus shows a humble docility towards the Holy Ghost. In pronounc-ing the Name of Jesus we can (as far as it is given to man) make ourselves one with Him in this surrender to the Spirit. But we can also make ourselves one with Him as with the starting point from which the Spirit is sent to men: "He shall take of mine, and shall shew it unto you (John 16-15) ... I will send him unto you" (John 14.7). We can see the Name of Jesus as the focus from which the Spirit radiates towards mankind: we can see Jesus as the mouth from which Spirit is breathed. Thus, in the utterance of the Name of Jesus, we can associate ourselves with these two moments: the filling of Jesus with the Spirit, the sending of the Spirit by Jesus. To grow in the invocation of the Holy Name is to grow in the knowledge of the "Spirit of his Son" (Galatians 4.6).

11. THE NAME OF JESUS AND THE FATHER

. . . He that hath seen me hath seen the Father John, 14-9 

Our reading of the Gospel will remain superficial as long as we only see in it a message directed to men or a life turned towards men. The very heart of the Gospel is the hidden relationship of Jesus with the Father. The secret of the Gospel is Jesus turned towards Him. This is the fundamental mystery of the life of Our Lord. The invocation of the Name of Jesus may afford us some real, though faint and transient, partaking in that mystery. 

"In the beginning was the Word" (John 1.1). The Person of Jesus is the living Word spoken by the Father. As the Name of Jesus, by a special divine dispensation, has been chosen to mean the living Word uttered by the Father, we may say that this Name par-takes to some extent in this eternal utterance. In a some-what anthropomorphic manner (easy to correct) we might say that the Name of Jesus is the only human word which the Father eternally pronounces . The Father eternally begets His word. He gives Himself eternally in the begetting of the Word. If we endeavour to approach the Father through the invocation of the Name of Jesus, we have first, while pronouncing the Name, to contem-plate Jesus as the object of the Father's love and self-giving. We have to feel (in our little way) the outpouring of this love and this gift on the Son. We have already seen the dove descending upon Him. It remains to hear the Father's voice saying: "Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased" (Luke 3.22). 

And now we must humbly enter into the filial con-sciousness of Jesus. After having found in the word "Jesus" the Father's utterance: "My Son ! ", we ought to find it in the Son's utterance: "My Father ! Jesus has no other aim than to declare the Father and be His Word. Not only have all Jesus' actions, during His earthly life, been acts of perfect obedience to the Father "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me" (John 4.34); not only has the sacrificial death of Jesus fulfilled the supreme requirement of the divine love (of which the Father is the source): "Greater love hath no man than this, that a may lay down his life . . . " (John 15.13) -- not only the deeds of Jesus, but His whole being were the perfect expression of the Father. Jesus is "the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person" (Hebrews 1.3). The Word was "towards God" (John 1.1) - the translation "with God" is inaccurate. It is this eternal orientation of the Son towards the Father, his eternal turning to Him, which we should experience within the Name of Jesus. There is more in the Holy Name than the "turning to" the Father. In saying "Jesus" we can in some measure join together the Father and the Son, we can realize and appropriate their oneness. At the very moment when we utter the Holy Name, Jesus Himself says to us as He said to Philip: "Believest thou not that I am in the Father and the Father in me? . . . Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me" (John 14.10,11).

12. THE NAME AND THE TOTAL PRESENCE

. . . that ye may be filled unto all the fulness . . . Ephesians 3.19 

We have considered the main aspects of the invocation of the Name of Jesus. We have disposed them according to a kind of ascending scale, and we think that this scale corresponds to the normal progress of the life of the soul. Nevertheless God, who, "giveth not the Spirit by measure" (John 3.34), overpasses all our limits. These aspects of the Name intermingle; a beginner may straightway be raised to the highest perception of the content of the Name, while somebody who has been wait-ing on the Name for years may not go beyond the elementary stages (it is not this that matters, the only thing that matters is to do what Our Lord wants us to do). So the pattern which we have followed is, to a large extent, artificial and has but a relative value. 

This becomes quite evident to anybody who has had some experience of all the aspects of the Name which have been described here. At that stage -- the reaching of which does not necessarily imply a greater perfection, but often some intellectual and spiritual acumen, some quickness of perception and discrimination concerning the things of God -- it becomes difficult, even wearisome and tedious, and sometimes even impossible, to concen-trate on this or that particular aspect of the Name of Jesus, however lofty it may be. Our invocation and consideration of the Holy Name then becomes global. We become simultaneously aware of all the implications of the Name. We say "Jesus", and we are resting in the fullness and totality of the Name of Our Lord; we are unable to disjoin and isolate its diverse aspects, and yet we feel that all of them are there, as a united whole. The Holy Name is then bearing the whole Christ and introduces us to His total Presence. 

This total Presence is more than the Presence of proximity and the Presence of indwelling of which we have already spoken. It is the actual "givenness" of all the realities to which the Name may have been for us an approach: Salvation, Incarnation, Transfiguration, Church, Eucharist, Spirit and Father. It is then that we apprehend "what is the breadth and length and depth and height . . ." (Ephesians 3.18), and that we perceive what to "gather together in one all things in Christ" (Ephesians 1.10) means. 

This total Presence is all. The Name is nothing without the Presence. He who is able constantly to live in the total Presence of Our Lord does not need the Name. The Name is only an incentive to and a support to the Presence. A time may come, even here on earth, when we have to discard the Name itself and to become free from everything but the nameless and unutterable living contact with the person of Jesus. 

When we separately consider the aspects or implications of the Name of Jesus, our invocation of the Name is like a prism which splits up a beam of white light into the several colors of the spectrum. When we call on the "total Name" (and the total Presence) we are using the Name as a lens which receives and concentrates the white light. Through the means of a lens a ray of the sun can ignite some combustible substance. The Holy Name is this lens. Jesus is the burning Light which the Name, acting as a lens, can gather and direct till a fire is kindled within us. "I am come to send fire on the earth . . . " (Luke 12.49). 

The Scripture often promises a special blessing to them that calLon the Name of the Lord. We may apply to the Name of Jesus which is said of the Name of God. We shall therefore repeat: "Look upon me, and be merciful unto me, as thou usest to do unto those that love thy name" (Psalm 119.132). And of every one of us may the Lord say what he said to Saul: "He is a chosen vessel unto me, to bear my name . . ." (Acts 9.15).



 POPE FRANCIS GIVES HIS BLESSING "URBI ET ORBI"

POPE FRANCIS' IDEAS OF WHAT IS AT THE HEART OF THE CHURCH by Alejandro Bermudez

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 Of all the people in the world, the Orthodox ought to know what we mean by "Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus".   Central to Orthodox spirituality is "Prayer of the Heart".   When we speak of the "heart of Jesus" we are using the word "heart" in exactly the same sense as they do when they talk of the "prayer of the heart".   Instead, we get jokes about our devotion to particular parts of Our Lord's body.   

For us, "heart" means the deepest centre of the human being, where even psychology cannot touch, the point where every person that comes into the world is enlightened by the Word, the place where the eucharistic Lord lodges his presence: the place in which our prayer begins, in harmony with the prayer of the Spirit calling, "Abba, Father".

   Surely, if Christ in truly human,then he too has this profound central space where God became man, where God continues to become man in intimate union, where divine Love and human love act in perfect harmony as from a single personal centre to save and embrace the world.   This centre is the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  Long before we reach this point, the Orthodox I have known become restless.  Perhaps they will learn something from their Western brethren, a possible approach to the central reality of Christianity that they have not yet explored, even though the "prayer of the heart" says it all.   Better to take refuge in jokes about particular parts of Christ's body than to plunge with us into a shared understanding and love of the Incarnation.

I think we have to make ourselves clear to the Orthodox who read our articles.  We do not regard ourselves as heterodox seeking entrance to the Orthodox Church.   Our desire for unity with the Orthodox Church arises from our fundamental belief that we are as Orthodox as they are; but, at the same time, we believe that our orthodoxy needs unity with the Orthodox in order to be ourselves - in that sense, we need them, - and we also believe that they too need us to be true to themselves, that the fullness of Catholicism can be discovered in the Eucharist that both churches celebrate, and that the celebration of the Divine Liturgy unites us, whether we want to be united or not.   This means that our division is a product of our own ecclesiastical imagination; and the sooner we wake up to the reality that we are united by the same Mass, the sooner it will be better for us and for the whole world.   

Unfortunately, however, many things have happened since we came to believe that we were separated,and these things need to be dealt with before we move from dream to reality.   Some of these things belong to the substance of dreams, and all we have to do is wake up to understand that they are without substance.   One example is devotion to the Sacred Heart.   In no doctrine are we closer in reality: in no doctrine do our differences stand out more clearly for those of us who are still asleep. 

 We now have a Pope to whom the heart is central.   Let us leave aside the problem of the Ukraine where, according to the Russians, Catholics are converting Orthodox, and Guatemala, where Orthodox are converting Catholics:  let us shake ourselves awake and, with Pope Francis, look into the human heart and the heart of the Gospel together.   Both will be richer that way; and, in God's good time rather than our own, ut omnes unum sint.

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Italian television covered the personal struggle of a 20-something, non-practicing Catholic woman who was deeply moved by Pope Francis’ first two encounters with the world after his election: directly on the day of his election and via television the next day, when he presided at the cardinals’ Mass in the Sistine Chapel.
The young woman told the Italian state-run television station RAI that she felt moved to buy a Bible and was planning to read the Gospels over the weekend.
RAI caught up with her again on the following Monday, after Pope Francis’ Mass and homily at the tiny Church of St. Anna inside the Vatican walls. “What I saw in Pope Francis’ person is totally consistent with what I read in the Gospels. ... I think I now need to go back to the Church,” the young lady said.
If Pope Francis could describe his mission, the encounter recounted by RAI would be a prime example.
This early in his pontificate many have attempted to describe Pope Francis either based on his past — sometimes even a false account of it — or on his small, widely publicized gestures.
Much has been said, positively or negatively, about his call for a Church that is “poor and for the poor” or about his liturgical decisions, such as not wearing the papal cape and stole during his first appearance, his choice of the third Eucharistic Prayer for his first solemn Mass, and his celebrating Holy Thursday Mass at a Rome juvenile detention center and kissing the feet of two females during the washing of the feet.
An equal amount of electronic ink has been shed about his decision not to wear red shoes or to wear a silver ring rather than one made of gold.
This overreading, which leads to concluding about things too early in the pontificate, either disturbing or encouraging trends, comes from the long, frequently divisive debate regarding what is at the heart of the Church.
Some would say the heart is the liturgy, since it is the “source and summit of the life and mission of the Church,” to quote from the Second Vatican Council’s dogmatic constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium.
Others, instead, judge Francis through the prism of Matthew 25 and the belief that the Final Judgment is at the heart of the Church.
But for Pope Francis, the heart of the Church is, well, the heart. That is, the human heart and its transformative relationship with God’s heart.
The heart in Jesuit spirituality is a crucial concept. The Jesuits were the first to promote devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus around the world. Initially, they were accused of heresy for promoting the concept that the human heart of Jesus was a permanent living source of mercy, as revealed by God to St. Marguerite Marie Alacoque in the 17th century.
Unlike the modern reduction of the heart to the experience of feelings, which are to be followed at the expense of our brains, in the Jesuit tradition, the heart is the core of the human person, the place of the soul, where the encounter between God and man takes place. The heart is, in fact, not only the most inner sanctum of the human person, but also the root of the human will. According to the Jesuit understanding, the heart is the source of human action and endurance. Therefore, both personal conversion and solidarity begin with the human heart.
This is the concept of heart that has formed Pope Francis. In 10 years of written homilies, speeches and pastoral letters, the then-archbishop of Buenos Aires has mentioned the heart from this perspective an average of four times per occasion. In some documents, like one of his Lenten pastoral letters, the human heart is mentioned as much as 26 times.
Or 22 times in his homily during the opening Mass at the 2004 National Eucharistic Congress, where he said:
“When Peter perceives that it is the Lord, he dives into the water to arrive first. He throws himself in. He doesn’t doubt. If it is the Lord, this is what we must do. His vocation grants him the strength to exercise the Christian virtue of courage, that of boldness.”
He continued, “This is the boldness to dive into the water when I see my Lord because I find everything with Jesus. He changes our hearts and makes us audacious, bold, to defend what we’ve received, what is non-negotiable. They would rather receive martyrdom than negotiate what they had received, thus sealing the certainty of this encounter with their very lives.”
In another homily, addressed that same year to teachers from Catholic schools in the Buenos Aires Archdiocese, he said: “To those who lead these institutes, I ask for your courage, the courage to assume the responsibility of forming Christian hearts, hearts that know they have encountered Jesus Christ.”
The centrality of the human heart modeled according to the heart of Jesus has not only been an issue frequently mentioned by Pope Francis in these first weeks of his papacy. It has also been at the heart (pun intended) of his message. And it is a message he believes can be shared with other religious traditions; in fact, also in 2004, Cardinal Bergoglio was invited by the Buenos Aires Jewish community — one of the world's largest — to deliver the comment after the reading of the Scripture during the feast of Rosh Hashanah.
Commented Cardinal Bergoglio: “‘And these words, which I instruct to you this day, shall be in your heart. And you shall explain them to your sons. And you shall meditate upon them sitting in your house and walking on a journey, when lying down and when rising up’ (Deuteronomy 6:6-7). This is our memory. We cannot lose it. The fascination with idols leads us to a weakening of the memory of us all, each and every day of our lives.”
Does Pope Francis dismiss the importance of liturgical gestures, great or small? Does he believe that Catholics will only be saved by practicing social justice?
No. He is a deep lover of the Church’s liturgical traditions. He is also a strong supporter of the need to influence politics and culture, as he has shown repeatedly in his writings. But, most importantly, he believes that if there are no changed hearts, there will be no eyes with which to praise God at the sight of elegant liturgical vestments; no families to enjoy the true definition of marriage; no person to receive with love a newborn baby.  
Or, in his own words, which we are challenged to take personally: “This is the Lord’s commandment: Surrender our hearts.   Open them and believe in the Gospel of truth; not in the Gospel we’ve concocted, not in a light Gospel, not in a distilled Gospel, but in the Gospel of truth.”
Alejandro Bermudez is the Register’s Latin-America correspondent.



THE MONASTIC COMMUNITY OF BOSE by Joseph A. Komonchak (of DotCommonweal)

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Posted by Joseph A. Komonchak
Halfway between Milan and Turin, in a little hollow below a glacial morain, with the foothills of the Italian Alps providing the distant horizon, sits the monastery of Bose, one of the most important religious foundations in Italy since the Second Vatican Council. On the day the Council closed, December 8, 1965, Enzo Bianchi, a 21-year-old layman, began to live a monastic life in an abandoned farm house. It would be only in August of 1968 that three others decided to join him at Bose. One of them was a pastor in the Swiss Reformed Church, and one of them was a woman. With them two of the chief characteristics of the monastic community of Bose were established: it would be ecumenical in membership and would include both men and women. The experiment had to survive the opposition of the local bishop, but thanks to the support of the cardinal archbishop of Turin, the community survived and grew and eventually won the formal approval of a later bishop.

Forty years later the community consists of some eighty members, with the men in a slight majority; the median age is around 40. Most of the members are from northern Italy, but several other European countries are represented, and there is one American. One member is the retired Orthodox Metropolitan of Sylivira, Emilianos Timiadis, who had served as personal representative of the Ecumenical Patriarch at the World Council of Churches; there are at least four Protestants in the community. The primary vocation is monastic and so only five of the monks are ordained priests to see to the sacramental needs of the community and of the thousands of guests who descend upon the monastery throughout the year. The community has its own monastic rule, which borrows from earlier monastic traditions but follows none of them exactly.

The day is structured around the common prayer. The monks arise at 4:30 for private prayer and then join in common morning prayer at 6:00. The rest of the morning is devoted to the various activities that monks perform (from iconography to tending the gardens; from carpentry to writing; from translating to bottling teas, condiments, olive oil, and spices). Midday prayer is at 12:30, and after an afternoon of work and study, evening prayer is chanted at 6:30. The altum silentium runs from 8:00 PM to 8:00 AM.

The common prayer is sung in Italian with an adaptation of Gregorian chant sung in lovely harmonies. The texts of the Psaltery have been newly translated from the Hebrew and with an eye also to the traditional christological interpretation of the Psalms. The antiphons are always drawn from the Scriptures, and they constantly invoke the redemption effected in Christ, with particular, continuous insistence on Christ’s resurrection. The Sunday liturgy especially focuses on the resurrection. At a Saturday vigil, one of the monks leads a public lectio divina of the next day’s scriptural passages; Sunday morning prayer is called a “celebration of the resurrection,” at which, following an Orthodox tradition, one of the Gospel resurrection narratives is read. The spirituality cultivated at Bose is wholly centered upon the Word of God in the Scriptures, illumined also by the meditations of the Fathers and of the great spiritual masters.

The community has its own publishing house, Qiqayon (the Hebrew name of the shrub that grew up to shelter Jonah from the heat), which has published many texts of theology and of the various schools of Christian and Jewish spirituality. The monastery has hosted scholarly symposia on ecumenical, inter-religious, spiritual and theological subjects. Monks offer regular courses in biblical Hebrew and Greek. Enzo Bianchi offers frequent “Encounters,” talks on spiritual and theological themes. The Sunday I was there he gave the second in a series of meditations and reflections on “The Experience of God in the Old Testament.” Over 500 people attended, and I was told another 250 had to be turned down for lack of space.

Bianchi, prior of the community but never ordained himself, has become an important figure in the Church in Italy. He is regularly called upon to give retreats for bishops and priests. He writes regular columns on contemporary affairs for newspapers: one recent one was on “the code of mediocrity” exemplified by a certain popular novel. He was asked to compose the liturgies of repentance that Pope John Paul II led on the first Sunday of Lent in 2000.

To accommodate the growing number of people who want to come to share the experience of prayer and spiritual commitment, the community recently opened a new guesthouse, and the monks are now constructing a better facility for those who wish to camp out at the monastery. Guests are welcomed regardless of their ability to pay, although, of course, recommendations for daily expenses are provided for those who can pay. Guests are welcome to attend and participate in the daily prayer and in the twice-weekly eucharists. Priests are available for confession, and monks for spiritual conversation. The area is very quiet, and walks are possible along rural roads and on paths through the woods, where, however, one may find oneself pausing at the sign that announces that the hunting of wild boar is permitted in these woods. A ten-minute walk brings one to the restored Romanesque church of San Secondo, built in the eleventh and twelfth century, the main church being the simplest of constructions to which was added a bell-tower that is considered one of the finest examples of Romanesque architecture in the region. There are various views of the church that enable one to imagine how it must have looked in the Middle Ages, quiet opportunities to reflect on the living of the faith in tiny communities like the one that built this church: the Church alive then, as now, only in and as Churches like the community of men and women of San Secundo.

The monastic community of Bose has its own Web site with information about the community and a few photos.

Perhaps others can comment on their experience at Bose. In any case, if you ever wish to include time for personal spiritual reflection on a trip to Europe, give some thought to going to Bose.
an ecumenical conference in Bose

An example of ecumenical contacts is taken from the website of the Department for External Relations of the Russian Orthodox Church.   It says:
Hegumen Philip Riabykh, vice-chairman of the Moscow Patriarchate’s department for external church relations, met on 29 April 2010 with Brother Adalberto Mainardi of the Bose monastic community, Italy, and Prof. Alberto Melloni from Bologna.Brother Adalberto, speaking on behalf of the whole community and its founder Brother Enzo Bianchi, conveyed greetings and deep gratitude to His Holiness Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and All Russia and the chairman of the Department for External Church Relations, Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk, for support and long-standing cooperation in organizing international symposia on topical questions of Orthodox spiritual tradition, held annually in Bose since 1993. The next, 18th colloquium will be attended by a representative delegation of the Russian Orthodox Church, which will be led by Archbishop Feognost of Sergiev Posad, abbot of St. Sergius’s Laura of the Trinity. The colloquium will discuss not only the monastic tradition under the theme ‘Fellowship and Solitude’, but also important components of the modern man’s spiritual life. The Russian Orthodox delegation will take an active part in discussing this theme at a round-table conference and in free communication with other participants and guests of the colloquium.




 The icons of Bose 
icon painting

The icon laboratory of the monastery of Bose started its activity about twenty years ago. Nowadays a small group of brothers and sisters of the community share with many monks of the Christian East this ancient art of icon painting.

The Byzantine iconographic tradition was the starting point of our activity thanks to our friendship with Greek monks and nuns, who passed on to us the wisdom of their art. The Greek icon painter Emanuele Panselinos is the main reference for our models in the Byzantine style.

Since the '90s we turned our attention to the Italian painting tradition. Italian painters of the thirteenth and fourtheenth centuries, such as Duccio di Boninsegna and Berlinghieri, are the main reference for our models in the Italic style.

The Russian tradition, and particularly the two great Russian icon painters Dionisij and A. Rublëv, is a source of inspiration for our models and technique.

In recent years we have widened our artistic horizons to include also the Coptic tradition and the Ethiopian tradition.

the icon exhibition room

Since June 2005 an exhibition room with a collection of our liturgical icons is open to the public (for visiting hours contact the monastery).

At the moment one picture for each iconographic style, some photographs of the exhibition room, and a full list of all the subjects (with available size) are published on this website.

A comprehensive photographic catalogue is available in the hall next to the reception room of the monastery.
To order icons and to ask for an estimate contact our laboratory.


Some of the icons are on display in the hall next to the reception room of the monastery.

BIBLICAL, PATRISTIC AND LITURGICAL RESEARCH

 
a computer room
Scripture, the writings of the Church fathers, and liturgy are at the core of the community life. For this reason Biblical, Patristic, and liturgical research, as well as the edition and translation of Christian sources have developed since the founding of the community.

Since the first years of monastic life at Bose, several brothers and sisters have devoted their energies to the study of Western and Eastern languages, both ancient and modern, in order to read and translate Biblical texts and Patristic writings. As a result, through the publications of our publishing house Edizioni Qiqajon, precious treasures of the Christian spiritual tradition, which have been at the heart of the community spiritual life for many years, can now be offered to our guests and friends.

This research, even if based on solid, intellectual training, is not aimed at a merely intellectual knowledge at all. Its only purpose is to draw spiritual wisdom from Scripture, the fathers, and liturgy, as the monastic tradition has always pointed out.




INTERVIEWS WITH BROTHERS FROM BOSE, TAIZE & CHEVETOGNE AFTER A CONFERENCE IN KIEV


BROTHER ADALBERT OF BOSE IS INTERVIEWED

 BROTHER RICHARD OF TAIZE IS INTERVIEWED




FATHER ANTOINE LAMBRECHTS OF CHEVETOGNE IS INTERVIEWED

THE MONKS OF HEILIGENKREUZ


THE MONASTIC COMMUNITY OF JERUSALEM IN PARIS: LAUDS TODAY

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE - THE LESSON OF BYZANTIUM

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This video is well worth watching.   It gives the story of the fall of the greatest empire the world had ever seen,   When the West was given over to wars and disorder,with a complete lack of education except among the clergy,  Byzantium had universal education, and a high cultural life for a thousand years.   Its fall is very sad; and this video gives a detailed and nuanced account of the process by which a strong, well- governed society crumbled from within before it ever fell to the Muslim hoards.   It sends us a warning because, what happened to Byzantium could happen to us.

However, there is something else that is sad.  This Russian Orthodox video only sees Rome and Western Europe as they behaved towards Byzantium and shows no awareness of other aspects of Western life.  Of course, there is no reason why the video should explore these other aspects; but lack of awareness of the other dimensions can lead to false conclusions, even about the Fall of Byzantium. 

It makes sweeping statements about the West, that it was all war and pillaging.   That is so sweeping as to give a very incomplete picture.   There is no mention of western monasticism, the rise of the great monasteries, the evangelization, the saints, the holiness of common people. In fact, you only have to go to Wales with its holy wells and to Belarus with its holy wells to realise that the common people on both sides of the divide had a faith and practice very similar to one another, whatever pope or patriarch may have said, and whatever fate Byzantium may have been preparing for itself   The "megahistory" may have been different, but the "microhistory",  the real history, the history of souls in East and West, all of which have been paid for by the Precious Blood of the Lamb, was and is startlingly the same.   

As these details are not considered, the Orthodox can use the account to re-inforce the "us and them" approach, hanging on to the illusion that in dealing with Roman Catholicism, they are dealing with a completely different species of animal, and seeing the West as the source of all its ills.   The archimandrite says in the video that the Fall of Byzantium is a key to understand the modern world.

The video does not realise that the warring, pillaging and disorder in the West was far more of a threat, because it was constant, to the western Catholic Church than it was to Orthodoxy which lay secure within the boundaries of the Byzantine Empire, until, of course, it collapsed.   The Catholic Church had to build up defences against chaos and protect the unity of the Church in spite of centrifugal forces directed by half-converted bandits and rogues.   To bring about reform, to save western Christian civilisation and the unity of the Church in very difficult circumstances, successive popes and their allies built up a centralised papacy. To survive as a single unit, the Church had to become self-sufficient     Many saints were involved in the process and in the reforms that this centralised papacy brought about or encouraged. On the whole, those who opposed it were also opposed to reform, and they probably used argumentsto defend their corrupt ways  like the ones that later were heard from the Orthodox for very different reasons.  As Catholicism judged Orthodoxy by western standards and Orthodoxy judged Rome by eastern standards, this led to each side completely misunderstanding each other's motives.



To understand the motives behind the growth of papal power, you have only to look at St Peter Damian.   Born in Ravenna, he became a hermit, but was called from his hermitage to serve the pope.   His theology was thoroughly patristic, his ecclesiology thoroughly eucharistic, his spirituality thoroughly monastic; but his main task was to lay the basis in Canon Law for a centralised papacy.   He did so out of  reforming zeal  because church reform was impossible across boarders and corruption was protected by kings and warlords.   For the same reason, local churches queued up to get the privilege of having their bishops chosen by the pope, because, in that way, they could escape the heavy hand of the local lord every time there was an election.


Unfortunately, when the western popes came to interpret the reactions of the eastern bishops, the only model they knew was their own experience with western bishops who opposed their centralisation plans. Also, the Orthodox viewed the growing self-assertiveness of the popes as the result of unChristian  pride.  Neither could see that both positions arose from two highly Christian responses to two very different cultural realities.   Each was sure of the rightness of its own intentions: neither could interpret correctly the intentions of the other. The tools for examining the effect of environment on Christian belief and practice simply had not yet been invented: hence, differences hardened into schism.  

 I believe that this schism was something far worse than the Fall of Constantinople.   Empires come and go, but the Church continues until the Second Coming.   Never has the devil had such a good time, from the beginning of the world until now, as when Catholicism and Orthodoxy fell into schism.

Perhaps the diabolical temptation began after the conversion of Constantine, when Christians dreamt of an empire that would include the whole universal Catholic Church.   It was diabolical because it was unrealistic.   The first victims of this dream were the Christian churches of the Persian Empire who were not invited to the Council of Ephesus but were required to accept its conclusions.   They refused to do so and became Nestorians.   Then the Egyptians wanted to become independent, and this got mixed up with theological debate; and they became Monophysites.   One big problem was that the Byzantine Empire could not function in the West because it did not have the resources.  The Legend of King Arthur and the Round Table comes from the time after the retreat of the Roman Empire from Britain.   The allegience pf the Catholic Church to the Empire began to disappear when that entity was unable to protect it, to keep order or to fulfil any other function of an Empire.   Pope St Gregory the Great had to take charge in Italy; and, in time, the West had to choose its own emperor: there was no choice. The Church in the West had to organise itself without the Byzantine Empire, while Orthodoxy clung to it: hence the schism.   Instead of being a unifying factor, the Byzantine Empire became a source of division; perhaps because it was an unrealistic dream on which some Orthodox are still hooked.

Nevertheless, the video is well worth watching.   It is thoughtful and a lesson for all of us. 

APRIL 7th 2013: THE FEAST OF THE ANNUNCIATION

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THIS YEAR ORTHODOX CHRISTIANS AND CATHOLIC CHRISTIANS CELEBRATE THE FEAST OF THE ANNUNCIATION ON THE SAME DAY, BECAUSE TODAY IS MARCH 25th  ACCORDING TO THE JULIAN CALENDAR. (SORRY, INCORRECT, YESTERDAY WAS THE ORTHODOX FEAST.)   THIS IS THE FEAST OF THE INCARNATION AND ONE OF THE GREATEST FEASTS OF THE MOTHER OF GOD.   WE CELEBRATE THE SYNERGY BETWEEN GOD'S LOVE AND MARY'S FAITH THAT MADE POSSIBLE THE INCARNATION.   THIS IS ALSO THE PATRONAL FEAST OF THE BENEDICTINE MONASTERY OF PACHACAMAC.   A HAPPY AND HOLY FEAST TO YOU ALL, CATHOLICS & ORTHODOX.

The photo shows a Russian altar boy holding a dove.   It is a custom in Russia to release pidgeons or doves on the feast of the Annunciation as a symbol of liberation brought about by the Incarnation.






Exactly nine months to the day before the Feast of the Nativity, we celebrate the annunciation Gabriel makes to Mary. Mystical significance is given to this date by Jacobus de Voragine, Archbishop of Genoa in his "Golden Legend" written in 1275:



This blessed Annunciation happened the twentyfifth day of the month of March, on which day happened also, as well tofore as after, these things that hereafter be named. On that same day Adam, the first man, was created and fell into original sin by inobedience, and was put out of paradise terrestrial. After, the angel showed the conception of our Lord to the glorious Virgin Mary. Also that same day of the month Cain slew Abel his brother. Also Melchisedech made offering to God of bread and wine in the presence of Abraham. Also on the same day Abraham offered Isaac his son. That same day St. John Baptist was beheaded, and St. Peter was that day delivered out of prison, and St. James the more, that day beheaded of Herod. And our Lord Jesu Christ was on that day crucified, wherefore that is a day of great reverence.

It was this day on which Our Lord entered the world, and on this day, thirty-three years later, that He left it. It must be remembered that it was on this day, not Christmas, that Christ came to the world, as a baby inside Mary's womb; today is the feast of the Incarnation! 
 Father Alban Butler writes in his "Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Other Principle Saints" (1864) these beautiful words to indicate the import of Mary's "yes":


The world, as heaven had decreed, was not to have a Saviour till she had given her consent to the angel's proposal; she gives it, and behold the power and efficacy of her submissive fiat! That moment, the mystery of love and mercy promised to mankind four thousand years before, foretold by so many Prophets, desired by so many Saints, is wrought on earth. That moment, the Word of God is for ever united to humanity; the Soul of Jesus Christ, produced from nothing, begins to enjoy God, and to know all things past, present, and to come: that moment, God begins to have an adorer who is infinite, and the world a mediator who is omnipotent; and, to the working of this great Mystery, Mary alone is chosen to co-operate by her free assent. The prophets represent the earth as moved out of its place, and the mountains as melting away before the very Countenance of God looking down upon the world. Now that He descends in person, who would not expect that the whole heavens should be moved?

Yes, the whole heavens were moved, and we Catholics are moved yet, honoring Christ's Incarnation at each and every Mass when we kneel in gratitude during the Creed, at the words "Et homo factus est" ("And became man"). Angelus Bells at one time (and still in some places) reminded us three times a day -- morning, noon, and evening -- of St. Gabriel's announcement, Mary's fiat, and the Creator of the Sun and Moon and Stars deigning to take on a human nature, all according to prophecy:

St. Augustine (b. 354), in his first sermon on the New Testament, explains what Our Lord's being born of a woman teaches about the dignity of women:



But now, would He have been any less a man, if He had not been born of the Virgin Mary" one may say. "He willed to be a man; well and good; He might have so been, and yet not be born of a woman; for neither did He make the first man whom He made, of a woman." 



Now see what answer I make to this. You say, Why did He choose to be born of a woman? I answer, Why should He avoid being born of a woman? Granted that I could not show that He chose to be born of a woman; do you show why He need have avoided it. But I have already said at other times, that if He had avoided the womb of a woman, it might have betokened, as it were, that He could have contracted defilement from her; but by how much He was in His own substance more incapable of defilement, by so much less had He cause to fear the woman's womb, as though He could contract defilement from it. 



But by being born of a woman, He purposed to show to us some high mystery. For of a truth, brethren, we grant too, that if the Lord had willed to become man without being born of a woman, it were easy to His sovereign Majesty. For as He could be born of a woman without a man, so could He also have been born without the woman. But this hath He shown us, that mankind of neither sex might despair of its salvation, for the human sexes are male and female. If therefore being a man, which it behoved Him assuredly to be, He had not been born of a woman, women might have despaired of themselves, as mindful of their first sin, because by a woman was the first man deceived, and would have thought that they had no hope at all in Christ. 



He came therefore as a man to make special choice of that sex, and was born of a woman to console the female sex, as though He would address them and say; "That ye may know that no creature of God is bad, but that unregulated pleasure perverteth it, when in the beginning I made man, I made them male and female. I do not condemn the creature which I made. See I have been born a Man, and born of a woman; it is not then the creature which I made that I condemn, but the sins which I made not." 



Let each sex then at once see its honour, and confess its iniquity, and let them both hope for salvation. The poison to deceive man was presented him by woman, through woman let salvation for man's recovery be presented; so let the woman make amends for the sin by which she deceived the man, by giving birth to Christ. For the same reason again, women were the first who announced to the Apostles the Resurrection of God. The woman in Paradise announced death to her husband, and the women in the Church announced salvation to the men; the Apostles were to announce to the nations the Resurrection of Christ, the women announced it to the Apostles. Let no one then reproach Christ with His birth of a woman, by which sex the Deliverer could not be defiled, and to which it was in the purpose of the Creator to do honour.
This parallel between Eve and the Blessed Virgin is why Our Lady is referred to as "the New Eve," as Christ is referred to as "the New Adam." St. Irenaeus (b. c. 115) wrote in his Apology, Book II, Chapter XII:



Those, therefore, who allege that He took nothing from the Virgin do greatly err, since, in order that they may cast away the inheritance of the flesh, they also reject the analogy between Him and Adam.... Wherefore also Luke, commencing the genealogy with the Lord, carried it back to Adam, indicating that it was He who regenerated them into the Gospel of life, and not they Him. And thus also it was that the knot of Eve's disobedience was loosed by the obedience of Mary. For what the virgin Eve had bound fast through unbelief, this did the virgin Mary set free through faith.
This poetic commentary  by Oscar Wilde makes mention of the lily while describing the humility of the Incarnation:

Ave Maria Gratia Plena
By Oscar Wilde 



Was this His coming! I had hoped to see

A scene of wondrous glory, as was told
Of some great God who in a rain of gold
Broke open bars and fell on Danaë , 
Or a dread vision as when Semele, 
Sickening for love and unappeased desire, 
Prayed to see God's clear body, and the fire 
Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly. 
With such glad dreams I sought this holy place 
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand 
Before this supreme mystery of Love: 
Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face, 
An angel with a lily in his hand 
And over both the white wings of a dove.


The Mystery of the Annunciation is the Mystery of Grace
by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger  

Ignatius Insight 

The mystery of the annunciation to Mary is not just a mystery of silence.It is above and beyond all that a mystery of grace. 

We feel compelled to ask ourselves: Why did Christ really want to be born of a virgin? It was certainly possible for him to have been born of a normal marriage. That would not have affected his divine Sonship, which was not dependent on his virgin birth and could equally well have been combined with another kind of birth. There is no question here of a downgrading of marriage or of the marriage relationship; nor is it a question of better safeguarding the divine Sonship. Why then?

We find the answer when we open the Old Testament and see that the mystery of Mary is prepared for at every important stage in salvation history. It begins with Sarah, the mother of Isaac, who had been barren, but when she was well on in years and had lost the power of giving life, became, by the power of God, the mother of Isaac and so of the chosen people. 

The process continues with Anna, the mother of Samuel, who was likewise barren, but eventually gave birth; with the mother of Samson, or again with Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptizer. The meaning of all these events is the same: that salvation comes, not from human beings and their powers, but solely from God—from an act of his grace.

(From Dogma und Verkundigung, pp. 375ff; quoted in Co-Workers of the Truth: Meditations for Every Day of the Year [Ignatius Press, 1992], pp. 99-100.) 
The annunciation to Mary happens to a woman, in an insignificant town in half-pagan Galilee, known neither to Josephus nor the Talmud. The entire scene was "unusual for Jewish sensibilities. God reveals himself, where and to whom he wishes." Thus begins a new way, at whose center stands no longer the temple, but the simplicity of Jesus Christ. He is now the true temple, the tent of meeting.

The salutation to Mary (Lk 1:28-32) is modeled closely on Zephaniah 3: 14-17: Mary is the daughter Zion addressed there, summoned to " rejoice", in formed that the Lord is coming to her. Her fear is removed, since the Lord is in her midst to save her. Laurentin makes the very beautiful remark on this text: "... As so often, the word of God proves to be a mustard seed.... One understands why Mary was so frightened by this message (Lk 1:29). Her fear comes not from lack of understanding nor from that small-hearted anxiety to which some would like to reduce it. It comes from the trepidation of that encounter with God, that immeasurable joy which can make the most hardened natures quake."

In the address of the angel, the underlying motif the Lucan portrait of Mary surfaces: she is in person the true Zion, toward whom hopes have yearned throughout all the devastations of history. She is the true Israel in whom Old and New Covenant, Israel and Church, are indivisibly one. She is the "people of God" bearing fruit through God's gracious power. ...

Transcending all problems, Marian devotion is the rapture of joy over the true, indestructible Israel; it is a blissful entering into the joy of the Magnificat and thereby it is the praise of him to whom the daughter Zion owes her whole self and whom she bears, the true, incorruptible, indestructible Ark of the Covenant. 

(From Daughter Zion: Meditations on the Church's Marian Belief [Ignatius Press, 1983], pp. 42-43, 82.) 


MY HOMILY

I am the handmaid of the Lord.   Let it be done to me according to your word. -  Luke 1, 38.

This text records one of two great moments of consent from which were born the Church, a new way of living, and, in time, the new heaven and the new earth.   Although this consent came first in time, it owes its importance to the other moment of consent which it made possible.

The other moment of consent is recorded in the Last Supper when Jesus said, 
"This is my body which is given for you.   Do this in remembrance of me."   And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."

Jesus was consenting to be given for us and poured out for us: he was offering his death on the morrow as a sacrifice.  This wasn't an isolated act of self-offering.   His offering at the Last Supper was a liturgical act; but you get an insight into how much it cost him personally in the Agony in the Garden, when he said to the Father:
Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."  
 He did not want to be "poured out", but he remained firm in his commitment to his Father's will.   In fact, his self-offering in the Last Supper expressed the orientation of his whole life, whose meat it was to do the Father's will.

Hear we have the two great moments of consent: that of Jesus who is personally God the Son, by whose obedience unto death earned our salvation and, by whose resurrection opened up our way to God; and that of Mary who received our salvation before it happened by receiving Christ in faith, so that in her womb, God and his creation were insolubly joined in a union that cannot be broken.   By this act of faith she became mother of all that subsequently happened: like Eve she became "mother of all the living", when by "living" we mean all who, being human, share in the very life of God.   

In a Catholic understanding of her role, it cannot be separated from that of Jesus Christ who brought about a perfect salvation, and, by his resurrection, became the New Adam.   Her consent, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord...", led her to the foot of the cross.  It too was the expression of her life orientation, and it bore fruit in her Assumption.   Her perfect reception of salvation made her the New Eve.  

 From these two consents was born the Church.   All us human persons benefit from her perfect reception as a human person of the salvation won by Christ. 

As we are human persons in the process of accepting this same salvation won for us by Christ, we can gain a deeper understanding of our own role as Christians by examining Mary's call in the Annunciation.

She is told by Gabriel that she would become mother of the Messiah.   This she could not accomplish by simple obedience.   On the one hand, she did not yet live with her husband, Joseph, and did not expect to do so in the near future, "I know not man."   On the other hand, she could not be Mother of God without God: she was doubly incapacitated.   If this was to be her vocation to be Mother of God, God must provide the means, and she must work in harmony with God and allow him to work through her. She needed two things, God's power and her own humble obedience. 
   
This is also true of us.   No natural ability of ours can bring us into Christ's body.   No virtue of ours can cause Christ to live in us.   For us to live in him and for Christ to live in us, we need the same Holy Spirit that came upon the Virgin; and we need to be humbly obedient so that Christ in the Spirit can work in and through us.   Our part is to be ever more humble, ever more obedient.   That is why those of us who are religious take a vow of obedience and learn to obey our superiors and our communities.   How can we say we are ready to obey God who we cannot see, if we are not willing to obey people we can see?

Perhaps I am exaggerating and giving to humble obedience the place that belongs to love.   Did not Christ say in the Gospel of St John that he has left us only one commandment, to love one another as he loved.   However, it is not any kind of love: we can see in the Garden how he loves us.   In the extreme fear and distress, he asked his Father if the cup could pass him by.   He did not want to be "poured out" in crucifixion.  However, his love for us was grounded on his humble love for his Father, and he persevered to the end, in spite of his fear.   Our love for one another must not be based on our feelings, which are fickle, but on our humble obedience to Christ and his Father.

Today, at the Mass of the Annunciation. Christ is present from the very beginning of the celebration, and he offers his obedience unto  death to the Father, as he did at the Last Supper; and Mary, together with the Church, including us who take part, identifies herself  with Christ in his sacrifice, as she did at the foot of the Cross, as she implied at the Annunciation.  The two moments of consent, that of Christ who saves and that of Mary who receives salvation, are actualised in the Mass in the consent of Jesus and of the Church.

 Thus the Church on earth is united with Christ, Our Lady, the angels and the saints in heaven by its participation in the Mass: we share in his Resurrection because we all share in his sacrifice.   We share in his sacrifice by making his commitment our own, in union with Mary, the Blessed Virgin.   A Happy Feast to you All.










A HOMILY ON THE ANNUNCIATION

By St. Nicholas Cabasilas

1. If there is ever a time when a man should rejoice, exult, and cry out with gladness, when he should go off and search for what great and brilliant statements he might utter, when he should wish to be vouchsafed sublimity of ideas, beauty of diction, and powerful oratory, I see no other occasion than this day, on which an Angel came to earth from Heaven bearing every good tiding. Today Heaven is exalted; today the earth is resplendent; today all of creation rejoices, and He Who holds Heaven in His hands is not absent from the Feast, either. Rather, the present celebration is in very truth a festival: all things are gathered together in a single act of rejoicing—the Creator, all of His creatures, and the Mother of the Creator herself, who made Him a partaker of our nature and of our liturgical synaxes and feasts. For He, being our Benefactor from the beginning of creation, and making this His own proper activity (never being in need of anything from anyone), to bestow gifts and to do good, and knowing only such things as these, on this day both does those same things and assumes a secondary place and stands in solidarity with the recipients of His benefactions. Bestowing some things on the creation from Himself, and receiving other things from it, He rejoices not so much in giving great gifts, since He is munificent, as in receiving small gifts from those to whom He has done good, since He loves mankind. He obtains honor not only from what He has laid down for His poor servants, but also from what He has received from us paupers.

For, although He chose to empty Himself1 and took our poverty upon Himself, yet in accordance with His judgments, as recipient, He used the gift that He received from us for His own adornment and majesty.2 What greater occasion for delight could there be for the creation—by which I mean both the visible creation and that which transcends our eyes—when it beholds its own Maker in its midst and the Master of all among the ranks of His servants, not divesting Himself of His Lordship, but assuming the form of a servant; not throwing away His wealth, but imparting it to the poor; and not falling away from the summit of His eminence, but elevating the lowly? She who is the cause of all these things for us all rejoices, on the one hand, at sharing, for her part, in the common goods, in that she belongs to the order of creation; and she rejoices, on the other hand, that she shares in these goods before all and most of all, and that through her all of these goods were bestowed on everyone; and fifthly, and most importantly of all, she rejoices because not only did God bring about resurrection for mankind through her, but she also brought it about herself, through the things that she knew and foreknew.

2. For the Virgin was not like the earth, which contributed to the creation of man but did not bring it about, but merely offered itself as matter to the Creator and was only acted upon and did not do anything. But those things which drew the Artificer Himself to earth and which moved His creative hand did she provide from within herself, being the author thereof. What were these things? A blameless life, an utterly pure way of life, the rejection of all evil, the practice of every virtue, a soul purer than light, a body that was entirely spiritual, brighter than the sun, purer than Heaven, and more sacred than the Cherubic thrones; a mind furnished with wings that was not daunted by any height; a longing for God, which had absorbed the entire appetitive faculty of the soul into itself; possession by God, a union with God inconceivable to any created intellect. Having trained both body and soul to receive such beauty, she turned the gaze of God towards herself, and by her own beauty rendered our common nature beautiful and won over the Impassible One; and He Who was despised by men on account of their sin became man because of the Virgin.

3. The “middle wall and barrier of enmity”3 were of no account to her; indeed, everything that divided the human race from God was abolished as far as she was concerned. Even before the common reconciliation, she alone had made peace with God; or rather, she was never in any need of reconciliation, since from the very beginning she stood foremost in the choir of the friends of God. However, such a reconciliation was made for the rest of mankind. And she was, before the Comforter, “an advocate for us before God,”4 as Paul puts it, not lifting up her hands to Him on behalf of mankind, but holding out her life as an olive branch. The virtue of a single soul was sufficient to put a stop to all of the evil committed by men from the beginning of time. And, just as the Ark, which saved man during the general shipwreck of the inhabited earth, was not itself subject to the calamities that befell the entire world, and just as it preserved for the human race the resources for its continuation, so also did it happen in the case of the Virgin. And, as if no man had dared to commit even one single sin, but all had abided by the Divine commandments and were still occupying their ancient habitation,5 thus did she ever keep her mind inviolate; and she had no awareness of the wickedness that had, so to speak, been diffused in every direction. The cataclysm of evil, which held all things in its grip, closed Heaven and opened up Hades, started a war between God and men, drove the Good One from the earth and introduced the Evil One in His stead, was yet completely powerless against the blessed Virgin; although evil had dominion over the entire inhabited earth and had everywhere wrought confusion, commotion, and havoc, it was defeated by a single thought and a single soul, and it yielded not only to her, but also, on account of her, to the entire human race.

This was the contribution that the Virgin made to the common salvation of mankind, even before that day arrived on which God was to bow the Heavens and descend.6 As soon as she was born, she constructed a dwelling-place for Him Who is able to save and fashioned a beautiful house for God—and one that would be worthy of Him. The King could not find any fault with His palace; and indeed, not only did she provide a dwelling fit for His royal majesty, but she also prepared from herself His purple robe7 and cincture, and the majesty, strength, and the Kingdom itself;8 just as an illustrious city that surpasses all other cities in size, beauty, wisdom, population, wealth, and all its resources, is able not only to offer a welcome and hospitality to the King, but also to establish, adorn, strengthen, and arm his royal authority, and in this way to inflict inevitable woe upon his enemies, but to confer salvation and an abundance of all good things upon his friends.

4. Thus did the Virgin benefit the human race before the time came for our common salvation. But since that time had now come and the Angelic messenger was at hand, she believed, gave her consent, and undertook her ministry. These things were indispensable and in every way necessary for our salvation; without them, there would have been no hope for humanity. For, neither would it have been possible, had the Blessed Virgin not prepared herself, as I said, for God to look kindly on mankind and to desire to descend to earth, that is, had there not been someone to receive Him, someone capable of serving Him in the œconomy of salvation; nor would it have been possible, had she not believed and given her consent, for God’s will for us to have been realized. This is evident from the fact that Gabriel, in addressing the Virgin and calling her “Full of Grace,” expressed everything pertaining to the mystery. God did not descend until the Virgin sought to learn the manner of her conceiving. But when He saw that she was persuaded and that she accepted the invitation, the deed was accomplished straightway; and God clothed Himself in humanity and the Virgin became the Mother of her Creator. In the case of Adam, God neither foretold nor persuaded him concerning the rib from which Eve was to be fashioned, but put him to sleep, and in this way deprived him of the member in question; in the case of the Virgin, however, He first instructed her and awaited her assurance before proceeding to the deed. Regarding the creation of Adam, He conversed with His Only-Begotten Son, saying: “Let Us make man.”9 But when, as Paul says, He was going to bring this wonderful Counselor,10 the First-Begotten, into the world,11 and to form the second Adam, He made the Virgin a participant in his decision. And this great counsel, about which Isaiah speaks,12 God proclaimed and the Virgin ratified. The Incarnation of the Word was the work not only of the Father, Whose good pleasure it was, and of His Power,13 Who overshadowed, and of His Spirit, Who descended, but also of the will and faith of the Virgin. For, just as, without those Three, it would have been impossible for this decision14 to be implemented, so also, if the All-Pure One had not offered her will and faith, this design could not possibly have been brought to fruition.

5. Having in this way taught and persuaded her, God made her His Mother and borrowed flesh from her with her knowledge and consent, in order that, just as He was conceived voluntarily, it might equally come about for His Mother that she should conceive voluntarily and become His Mother willingly and by her own free decision; and so that, even more importantly, she might not simply contribute to the Œconomy of the Incarnation as one who had been conscripted like some puppet, but might herself offer her own self and become a fellow-worker with God in His Providence for the human race and, thereby, be made a partaker and sharer with Him of the glory deriving therefrom; and so that, furthermore, just as the Savior Himself became man and the Son of man not only for the sake of the flesh, but also had a soul, a mind, and a will, and everything else that is human, He might in the same way obtain a perfect Mother who would minister to His Nativity not only through the nature of her body, but also through her mind, her will, and all that she possessed, and that the Virgin might thus be His Mother in both flesh and soul and might endow the ineffable birthgiving with human nature in its totality.15

For this reason, before placing herself at the service of the mystery, she learns about it, believes in it, consents to it, and prays for its fulfillment. Moreover, God wished to show the virtue of the Virgin, how great was her faith in Him, and what great courage of soul she had, and all her prudence and greatness of soul, in accepting and believing the most paradoxical words of the Angel, that God would truly come in person and provide for our salvation, and that she would coöperate with this work and prove capable of serving it. The latter is manifest proof that the Virgin was fully aware of that which is greatest of all, that than which no one could wish anything greater;16 the former is sufficient evidence that she had clear knowledge of God’s goodness and love for mankind, for which reason it seems to me that she was not initiated into this mystery directly by God—although this mode of learning would have befitted her more than any celestial spirit—, in order that the faith which she had concerning God might be clearly shown to be hers, lest the whole matter be imputed to the power of God that persuaded her. For, just as those of the faithful who have not seen are more blessed than those who have seen,17 so also those who are persuaded by servants of the Master are more prudent than those whom God Himself has persuaded. But the fact that she was conscious that there was nothing in her soul that was inconsonant with the mystery, and that her character was in such harmony with it that no mention was made of any human weakness in her case; and also the fact that it was not because she harbored any doubts that she inquired how this would come to pass, that she did not talk about what was conducive to her purification, and that she did not need anyone to explain the mystery to her—I do not know whether this is something appropriate to ascribe to a created nature.

For, even if she had been a Cherub or a Seraph, or some other creature much purer than these Angelic beings, how could she have endured these words? How could she have supposed that she would be able to fulfill these promises? How could she have furnished strength that would be commensurate with the magnitude of the work? John, “a greater” than whom, according to the judgment of the Savior Himself, “there hath not risen,”18 did not consider himself worthy even to touch His shoes, and that, when the Lord was leading a life of poverty.19 The All-Blameless Virgin was bold enough to carry in her womb the Word Himself, the very Hypostasis of God. “Who am I, and what is the house of my father?”20 “Even in me, O Lord, shalt Thou save Israel?”21 Such things are to be heard from righteous men who were called to perform deeds accomplished by many persons and at many times. But the Blessed Virgin was induced to undertake something unwonted and in no way congruent with human nature, something surpassing all rational understanding—for what else was she doing than elevating the earth to Heaven and through herself changing and transforming all things?—; and she was not shaken in her mind, nor did she perceive her soul to be inferior to this task. But, just as we are not at all bothered if someone tells us that light is going to strike our eyes, and it is not strange for someone to state that when the sun rises it brings day, so also the Virgin, on learning that she would be capable of conceiving and bearing God Himself, Who is not contained in any place, was not at all surprised.22 And she did not leave the words addressed to her unexamined, nor did she experience any light-mindedness, nor was she carried away by the great loftiness of the Angelic laudation, but she restrained herself and focused her attention on the salutation; she inquired into the manner of her conceiving and sought to learn about other matters related to this. She did not go on to ask whether she was adequate and suited to the great magnitude of this ministry, or whether she had properly purified her body and her soul; rather, concerning what pertained to nature, she was puzzled, whereas she passed over what pertained to the readiness of her soul. She requested an explanation of the former from Gabriel, but the latter she knew from herself. She had confidence and boldness before God from within, as John says, since her heart was an advocate for her.23

6. “How shall this be?”24 she asks. “Not because I still need further purification or greater virtue, but because it is a law of nature that those who have vowed, as I have, to live in virginity should not be able to conceive.” “How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?”25 “I am ready to receive God and am sufficiently prepared; but pray teach me whether nature will comply.” And indeed, after Gabriel had proclaimed the manner of this strange pregnancy—“The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee”26—and had recounted other such things, the Virgin was no longer in any doubt about the glad tidings; for she was blessed, on the one hand, on account of the very sublime mysteries of which she was a minister, and, on the other hand, on account of her belief that she was capable of undertaking this ministry.

That this reaction was not the result of light-mindedness on her part, but an indication, rather, of the wondrous and ineffable treasury of the most perfect wisdom, faith, and purity that existed within her, was revealed by the Holy Spirit when He called her blessed, since she had accepted the message of the Angel and had easily been persuaded by the good news. For the mother of John, filled with the Holy Spirit, called her blessed: “Blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord.”27 “Behold the handmaid of the Lord,”28 replied the Virgin. Deservedly was she called the handmaid of the Lord, for she recognized the homecoming of the Lord, and, as Scripture says, immediately opened her house to “Him Who came and knocked”29 and truly provided a dwelling for Him Who had thitherto been homeless.30

Indeed, for Adam alone, for whose sake the visible universe had been fashioned, no help mate was found before Eve,31 whereas all other creatures had what they needed; but for the Word, Who had brought all things into being and had allotted suitable locations for each creature, there was no house or place before the Virgin. However, she “gave no sleep to her eyes, nor slumber to her eyelids”32 until she found a tabernacle and a place for Him. We must consider these words, uttered by the tongue of David, as belonging to the All-Pure One, since he was the father of her line, just as Levi, when he “was yet in the loins of his father...paid tithes”33 to Melchisedek in the person of Abraham.” But the greatest and most sublime thing of all is that, while she had not previously been told anything about this mystery and had no prior knowledge of it, she was so ready and suitable for it, and that when God suddenly arrived, she received Him with proper steadfastness, preparation, and vigilance of soul.

7. And she responded with these words, which were fitting and appropriate for her, so that all men might know what prudence there was in the Blessed Virgin, how she was a new creation and superior to human nature, transcending the comprehension of every mind; for she kindled such wondrous love for God in her soul, not because the things that were going to happen to her, of which she alone was to partake, had previously been announced to her, but because of those common gifts, which either had been or would be Divinely bestowed on mankind. For Job is admired, not so much because he patiently endured after being smitten by plagues as because he endured these calamities, not knowing what recompense he would receive for his struggles; in just the same way, the Virgin showed herself worthy of the Grace that surpasses human reason, of which she had no knowledge. She was a bridal chamber with no expectation of a bridegroom, and she was a heaven, although she did not know that the Sun would dawn from her.

What could there be to match this prudence? And what would she have been, if she had known everything clearly beforehand and had had the wings that derive from hope? Why, then, was she not informed of this previously? It is clear that there was no point to which she had to progress, since she did not lack any sublimity of holiness; neither was there anything that she had to add to what she already possessed, nor was it possible for her to become greater in virtue, since she had attained to the very pinnacle of sanctity. For, if this were possible, and there were some height of virtue beyond what she had already attained, she would not have been ignorant of it, since it was for this very reason that she came into existence, and God would have taught her to make up for what was lacking and to prepare herself better to serve the mystery. For, neither is it possible to say that the Virgin would not have had a greater aptitude for virtue on the basis of these hopes, if it had, in fact, been at all possible that she might have become better than she actually was, she who, even without any incentives to virtue, trained her soul so well that she was preferred by God the Judge to all of humanity; nor was it fitting for God not to adorn His own Mother with all good things or form her in the best, most beautiful, and perfect way possible.

8. But since God remained silent and did not foretell to her anything that was going to happen, He clearly showed that He did not know anything more beautiful or greater than that which He perceived in the Virgin; from this fact it is evident that He did not choose for His Mother the best of all those in existence, but her who was absolutely the best; nor did He choose her who was more suitable for Him than anyone else in the human race, but her who so totally suited Him, that it was fitting that she become His Mother. Indeed, it was absolutely necessary for human nature at some time to make itself fit for the task for which it was created at the beginning, that is, to bring forth someone capable of worthily serving the purpose of the Creator. For God did not create humanity with one purpose in mind, only to decide later on to use it for a different purpose, in the way that we take tools designed for one pursuit and misuse them for another, so that there is no need for them always to be congruent with their original function. Rather, He created mankind with this end in view, that, when He needed to be born, He might take from it a Mother. Having first established this need as a kind 11 of standard, He then fashioned man in accordance with it. For, neither should we posit any other end for the creation of man than that which is the most excellent of all and which brings the greatest honor and glory to the Artificer, nor is it conceivable that God should in any way fail in creating the things that He creates. After all, builders of houses and manufacturers of clothing and footwear are able to ensure that their product is always in conformity with its end, although they do not have complete control over their materials and the latter do not always coöperate with them but, on the contrary, sometimes put up opposition to them; even so, by virtue of their skill, these craftsmen succeed in drawing the materials towards their purpose. But God has sovereignty over matter, and in the beginning He created it according to His pleasure, knowing how He would use it.

What, therefore, was there to prevent human nature from being in conformity, and in every way in agreement and harmony, with the purpose for which it was created? For it is God Who governs His Œconomy, and this Œconomy is the greatest work of God and par excellence the work of His hands; and He did not entrust the matter to the ministry of any human being or Angel, but reserved it for Himself. Therefore, whom, if not God, does it behoove, when producing anything whatsoever, to observe the requisite standards? And in the case of what else than the most beautiful of His works? On what else, of all things, if not on Himself, would God confer what is appropriate? After all, Paul required that a Bishop “rule well himself and his own house”34 before caring for the common good.

9. So be it. When, therefore, all of these factors came together at the same juncture—the most just Ruler of the world, the most suitable minister of His Œconomy, and the most beautiful of all of the works of the Creator from all eternity—, how could everything appropriate not have been present in that place? Complete harmony and agreement had to be preserved, and nothing could happen that would be discordant with this great and wondrous undertaking. Therefore, since it behooves God, Who weighs all things with a balance,35 to be just and to create all things in a fitting manner, in response to this, the Virgin, who was in every way suited to the task, bore Him and became the Mother of Him Whose Mother it was fitting that she be. Hence, if nothing else were to be gained from God becoming the Son of man, we are entitled to say that the Incarnation of the Word had nonetheless to come about, since it was entirely fitting that the Virgin become the Mother of God, and that the fact that God was bound to render unto every creature that which was proper to it, that is, to act in accordance with justice, was a sufficient reason for the renewal of natures.36

For, if the All-Blameless Virgin upheld all of her obligations to God, and proved to be so prudent that she did not neglect even one of the virtues that she was obligated to possess, how would it have been possible for God not to comport Himself with equal justice? And if nothing conducive to her becoming the Mother of God eluded the Virgin, and she had such an intense yearning for God, it would scarcely have behooved God not to accord her the commensurate recompense of becoming her Son. And if God gives rulers to the wicked according to their hearts’ desire, how could He not have taken for His Mother her who proved to be truly in accord in every respect with His own heart? So entirely proper and appropriate to the Blessed Virgin was this gift. Therefore, when Gabriel clearly said that she would bear God Himself, and that “He shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of His Kingdom there shall be no end,”37she joyfully received the news as if she had learned something unexceptional and not at all at odds or discrepant with the normal course of events. And so it was that with a blessed tongue, an unperturbed soul, and thoughts full of tranquillity she said: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”38

10. These were the words that she said, and they were fulfilled at once: “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us”;39 and, after giving her reply to God, she received the Spirit that created from her that flesh which was one with God. Her voice was a “mighty voice,” as David puts it;40 and the Word of the Father is
formed by the word of a mother, and the Creator is created by the voice of a creature. And just as when God said, “Let there be light,” “at once there was light,”41 so, as soon as the Virgin spoke, the true Light dawned; and He Who “lighteth every man that cometh into the world”42 was joined to the flesh and carried in the womb. O sacred voice! O words of great power! O blessed tongue, which restored the entire inhabited earth in one fell swoop! O treasury of a heart which, by a few words, poured out upon us an abundance of good things! These words made the earth Heaven, emptied Hades of its prisoners, caused Heaven to be inhabited by men, joined Angels with men, and formed the Heavenly and earthly races into a single chorus around Him who is both, being God but becoming man.

What gratitude could we express to you for these words? What should we call you, of whom nothing human is worthy? Our words derive from existing things, whereas you surpass the whole world beyond every sublimity. If words are to be offered to you, this, I ween, is a task for Angels, for a Cherubic mind, for a fiery tongue. Hence, having mentioned, as far as we are able, those things which redound to your praise, and having chanted hymns to you, our salvation, to the best of our ability, we ask next for an Angelic voice. We will conclude with the salutation of Gabriel, adorning the sum of our oration with this additament: “Rejoice, thou who art full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.”43 May you prepare us to make a habitation for Him within ourselves, for this is conducive to His glory and to the laudation of you who gave birth to Him, when we not only talk about it, but also put it into practice, for unto Him belongs glory unto the ages. Amen.

Source: Translated from the Greek text in “Homélies Mariales Byzantines (II),” ed. M. Jugie, in Patrologia Orientalis, Vol. XIX, ed. R. Graffin and F. Nau (Paris: FirminDidot, 1920), pp. 484-495. This is a fresh and precise translation of a Byzantine theological text that is, as the late Professor Panagiotes Nellas, one of the foremost interpreters in recent times of the theology of St. Nicholas Cabasilas, notes, “especially beautiful, but also exceptionally difficult” (Ἡ Θεομήτωρ [The Mother of God], ed. and trans. [into modern Greek] by Panagiotes Nellas, in Epi tas Pegas [Athens: Apostolike Diakonia, 1974], 2nd ed., Vol. II, p. 38).

Notes: 

1 Philippians 2:7.

2 Citing the following words from St. Nicholas’ celebrated treatise, The Life in Christ, “Jesus, being of twofold nature, in accordance with His humanity which He shares with us honoured the Father and wove for Him that wondrous crown of glory from His Body and Blood” (Book IV, §5, trans. Carmino J. de-Catanzaro [Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1974], p. 120), Nellas astutely remarks that if God had simply bestowed salvation on mankind, He would have shown Himself to be merely “munificent” (φιλότιμος). However, by virtue of His act of “self-emptying” (κένωσις) at the Incarnation, He demonstrated that He was “philanthropic,” that is, “He Who loves mankind” (φιλάνθρωπος). In this way, He not only called man to coöperate in the work of salvation, but also manifested the greatness both of mankind and of His love for mankind, which is not simply pity or charity, but rather, friendship (φιλία) (Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p. 121). Cf. “Henceforth I call you not servants...but I have called you friends” (St. John 15:15).

3 Ephesians 2:14.

4 Cf. Romans 8:34.

5 According to Nellas, in this context “the ancient habitation” (ἡ ἀρχαία ἑστία) refers to Paradise (Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p. 127).

6 I.e., in accordance with His preëternal counsel (Nellas, Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p.129).

7 This purple robe is understood by the Fathers to denote Christ’s human flesh; see St. Cyril of Alexandria, Commentary on the Gospel According to St. John, Bk III, ch. 5, Patrologia Græca, Vol. LXXIII, col. 484B.

8 Cf. Psalm 92:1, Septuaginta.

9 Genesis 1:26; cf. St. John Chrysostomos: “Who is this to Whom God says, ‘Let Us make man’? Who, other than the Angel of great counsel, the wonderful Counselor...the Only-Begotten Son of God...through Whom all things were brought into being” (“Homily VIII on Genesis,” Patrologia Græca, Vol. LIII, col. 72).

10 Isaiah 9:6.

11 Hebrews 1:6.

12 Isaiah 9:6.

13 I Corinthians 1:24.

14 I.e., Concerning the Incarnation of the Word.

15 Cf. St. Gregory the Theologian: “What is unassumed is unhealed” (Epistle 101, “To Cledonios,” Patrologia Græca, Vol. XXXVII, col. 181C).

16 Cabasilas does not specify precisely what he means by “that which is greatest of all,” but it seems likely that he is alluding, here, to the Incarnation of the Word.

17 Cf. St. John 20:29.

18 St. Matthew 11:11.

19 According to Nellas, this refers to the poverty of the human nature which the Word assumed at the Incarnation (Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p. 139).

20 II Kings 7:18.

21 Cf. Judges 6:36.

22 “The Virgin is not surprised, because, as the enlightened human being that she is, she knows that man’s purpose is to be united with God. How, then, would she be surprised when she sees the fulfillment of something that constitutes the purpose of her existence?” (Nellas, Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, pp. 140-141).

23 Cf. I St. John 3:21.

24 St. Luke 1:34.

25 Ibid.

26 St. Luke 1:35.

27 St. Luke 1:45.

28 St. Luke 1:38.

29 Cf. Revelation 3:20.

30 “After the Fall and before the Virgin came into existence, God was ‘homeless’ [ἄοικος] (which means ‘without a hearth,’ one who has no family or fatherland) and that it was precisely the Virgin who prepares a place and a dwelling for Him, that is, introduces Him into the human family” (Nellas, Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p. 128).

31 Genesis 2:20.

32 Psalm 131:4, Septuaginta.

33 Hebrews 7:9-10.

34 Cf. I St. Timothy 3:4. The point of this allusion is that the Bishop is an Icon of God. Hence, if a Bishop must be able to manage his own affairs, the same principle must, a fortiori, apply to God (Nellas, Ἡ Θεομήτωρ, p. 155).

35 Cf. Ecclesiasticus 28:25.

36 Cf. the Heirmos of the Ninth Ode of the Great Canon: “Conception without seed; Nativity past understanding, from a Mother who never knew a man; childbearing undefiled; for the birth of God reneweth natures; wherefore, all generations magnify thee in Orthodox manner as Mother and Bride of God.”

37 St. Luke 1:33.

38 St. Luke 1:38.

39 St. John 1:14.

40 Psalm 67:34, Septuaginta.

41 Genesis 1:3.

42 St. John 1:9.

43 St. Luke 1:28.

SOME MONASTIC SCENES: 1) A HISTORIC COPTIC MONASTERY; ; 2) FROM LIGUGE; 3) FROM KERGONAN (2); 4) FROM FONTGOMBAULT; 5) FROM HEILIGENKRAUZ (3); 6) FROM PLUSCARDEN; 7)FROM OELENBERG: 8) FROM LE BARROUX; and finally, FROM AN ORTHODOX MONASTERY

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THE COPTIC MONASTERY OF ST MACARIUS THE GREAT

 
THE EXULTET: EASTER PROCLAMATION FROM THE ABBEY OF LIGUGE IN FRANCE
EASTER JOY: GREGORIAN CHANT FROM THE ABBEY OF ST ANNE, KERGONAN IN BRITTANY  

 INSIDE A BENEDICTINE MONASTERY  

 MONKS IN THE TOP TEN
INTRODUCTION TO HEILIGENKREUZ IN AUSTRIA
 

MONASTIC LIFE @ PLUSCARDEN ABBEY IN SCOTLAND

THE CISTERCIAN ABBEY OF OELENBERG IN FRANCE

WATCHMEN OF THE NIGHT: THE ABBEY OF LE BARROUX IN FRANCE

ONE DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN ORTHODOX MONASTERY IN ABKASIA

THE CARDINAL - Rudolf Voderholzer

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On September 16, 1991, the international weekly news magazine Time reported:
Cardinal Henri de Lubac, one of the top theologians among the French Jesuits, died at the age of 95 in Paris. De Lubac was prohibited from teaching from 1946 to 1954 after the publication of his book Surnaturel. [1] Rehabilitated in 1958, he took part in the [Second Vatican] Council at the request of John XXIII. His relations with Rome then became even more intensive during the reign of John Paul II, who, during a visit to Paris in 1980, interrupted a speech that he was giving when he saw the priest and said, "I bow my head to Father de Lubac."
In 1983, the Pope appointed the then eighty-seven-year-old theologian a cardinal in recognition of his services in the field of theology. This honor, which Henri de Lubac dedicated to the Jesuit Order as a whole, was the last step in the rehabilitation of a man who for a time was suspected, even within the Church, of watering down the true faith with all sorts of "innovations" and who from 1950 to 1958—here the Time report is inaccurate—was dismissed from his teaching position on the basis of such suspicions and was forbidden to publish scholarly books on theology.

Henri de Lubac and Karol Wojtyla, who later became Pope, were already acquainted from the days of the Second Vatican Council and held one another in high esteem. They had worked together on that "Schema 13" which eventually became known as the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, Gaudium et spes [2] (Joy and Hope). Even more than by his direct collaboration on the conciliar texts, de Lubac influenced the Council through the voluminous theological studies that he published in the years leading up to the Council, through which he had contributed to a renewal of theology based on the sources, that is, Sacred Scripture and the writings of the Church Fathers. Essential preliminary work for both the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gentium, and the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, Del Verbum, which are the most important theological documents of the Council, was done in the writings of Henri de Lubac.

For his part, Henri de Lubac recognized, in his encounters with the learned Archbishop of Krakow, that he was dealing with an extraordinary individual. The two became friends and corresponded. De Lubac wrote a foreword to the French translation of Wojtyla's book Love and Responsibility, while Wojtyla commissioned a Polish translation of de Lubac's essay               Eglises particulires et Eglise universelle [Motherhood of the Churches]. In 1970 and 1971, Wojtyla invited de Lubac to Poland. Only de Lubac's illness kept him from carrying out his travel plans. De Lubac recalled that in familiar conversations he had repeatedly made the assertion: "After Paul VI, Wojtyla is my candidate."

"A Genius for Friendship"

Anyone who undertakes to make a biographical sketch of Henri de Lubac is obliged in the first place to refer to the , [3] "Mémoire sur l'occasion de mes e'crits" he finally published in 1989 in the twilight years of his life; this "memorandum" is actually a report that he himself composed in several stages concerning the circumstances in which his writings originated. This book will always be an authoritative source for any in-depth study of the person and work of Henri de Lubac. During the years 1956 to 1957, de Lubac made notes about the first twenty years of his life, but he did not publish them. [4] An initial series of these memoirs has meanwhile been compiled from his literary remains, extensively annotated, and published by Georges Chantraine.

 De Lubac also recorded extensive memoirs of the years of World War II and the German occupation of France and published them in French in 1988. [5]

De Lubac always tried to keep his personal life in the background. This is true both of his writings and also of his autobiographical memoirs. He never thought of his theology as being original. It is one of the ironies in the history of theology that he, of all people, should be described by his opponents as the spokesman of a supposedly "new theology", the Nouvelle theologie. "In his writings he carried this attitude [of objectivity] to the point of self-effacement; many pages penned by him are nothing but a tissue of quotations, interwoven with comments. He renounced a speculative theological oeuvre so as to be like that 'scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven' who 'brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old' in extravagant abundance"—thus Xavier Tilliette described de Lubac's approach in an appreciation written on the occasion of the latter's eightieth birthday. [6]

The principal motive of his academic work was to put in the proper light the truth of the faith and the beauty and splendor of Tradition, along with the life's work of his friends. Father Gerd Haeffner said that he had "a genius for friendship". [7] Many pages of his retrospective are devoted to the memory of confreres and friends. Besides his own nearly forty volumes, de Lubac published almost as many books by friends posthumously, besides writing forewords and introductions and editing and annotating correspondence. Henri de Lubac published seven voluminous manuscripts by Father Yves de Montcheuil, S.J. (b. 1899), who was murdered by the Nazis in Grenoble in August 1944 shortly before the liberation of France. It is true that the manuscripts were almost ready to go to press, yet de Lubac singlehandedly saved them from oblivion. He devoted three books on a grand scale to the defense of his confrere and friend Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955). It pained him that his plans to publish important works of Father Pierre Rousselot, S.J., [8] who died in World War I at the age of thirty-seven, repeatedly came to naught!

Whereas he published and publicized the works of others, this same service was done for him by Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988), one of his close friends from their days together in Lyons- Fourvire. As early as 1947, von Balthasar translated de Lubac's first book, Catholicisme. [9] Then, in 1967, he began to publish the collected works of de Lubac in German. These were published by Johannes Verlag, the publishing house he himself had founded and directed. Thus almost all of the principal works are available in German, in a suitable translation, thanks to the stylistic brilliance of Hans Urs von Balthasar. An abridged version of the four-volume Exegise medievale, which Henri de Lubac himself prepared under the title  L'Écriture dans la Tradition (1966), has recently appeared in English as Scripture in the Tradition. [10]

Although the most important writings of Henri de Lubac are thus accessible to the German-speaking reader, they are actually known in Germany [and in the English-speaking world] only by a limited circle of specialists—limited, when compared with the scope and significance of his work. Who, then, was Henri de Lubac? What are his most important works? When and in what connections where they produced? In what manner and through what insights did he prepare the way for the Second Vatican Council? What was his opinion of the postconciliar developments? On what theological topics does he have something of lasting value to say?

ENDNOTES:

[1] De Lubac's controversial book Surnaturel: etudes historiques (1946) unmasked the theory of naturapura as a theological construct from the modern period and thus presented a challenge to the foundations of the Neo-Scholastic theology taught in the schools. On this subject, see the detailed discussion, below, on pp. 63-64, 92, and 122-38.

[2] Conciliar texts, as well as other magisterial documents, are cited according to the words with which they begin in Latin: Lumen gentium, Dei Verbum, Gaudium et spes, etc. They can be found in Documents of Vatican II, ed. Austin P. Flannery (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1975); or in the more recent edition, Vatican Council II: The Basic Sixteen Documents: Constitutions, Decrees, Declarations, ed. Austin P. Flannery (Northport, N.Y.: Costello; and Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1996).

[3] Henri de Lubac, MŽmoire sur l'occasion de mes Žcrits (1989); English edition, At the Service of the Church: Henri de Lubac Reflects on the Circumstances That Occasioned His Writings, trans. Anne Elizabeth Englund, Communio Books (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993), here cited as ASC. This work contains autobiographical notes, along with a wealth of such material as book reviews, letters and diary entries.

[4] Henri de Lubac, "MŽmoire sur mes vingt premieres annŽes" I, Bulletin de l'Association Internationale Cardinal Henri de Lubac 1 (1998): 7-31.

[5] Henri de Lubac, Christian Resistance to Anti-Semitism: Memories from 1940-1944, trans. Elizabeth Englund (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990).

[6] Xavier Tilliette, "Henri de Lubac achtzigjŠhrig", Internationale Katholische Zeitschrzft Communion (1976): 187f. 

[7] Gerd Haeffner, "Henri de Lubac", in Stephan Pauly, ed., Theologen unserer Zeit, pp. 47-57.

[8] Pierre Rousselot, S.J. (1878-1915), professor for dogmatic theology in Paris. His doctoral thesis, L'Intellectualisme de saint Thomas, a milestone in the recovery of Thomas' original views, had a decisive influence on de Lubac's approach to theology. On Rousselot, see E. Kunz, Glaube, Gnade, Geschichte [Faith, grace, history] (1969).

[9] Henri de Lubac, Catholicisme: Les Aspects sociaux du dogme (1938). Translated into German by Hans Urs von Baithasar as Katholizismus als Gemeinschaft [Catholicism as community] (1943); a second edition of this translation appeared in 1970 with the modified title Glauben aus der Liebe [Faith out of love]. English edition: Catholicism: Christ and the Common Destiny of Man, trans. Lancelot C. Sheppard and Elizabeth Englund (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1988), here cited as Cath.

[10] Henri de Lubac, L'ƒcriture dans la Tradition (1966); English edition, Scripture in the Tradition, trans. Luke O'Neill (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2000); German edition, Typologie, Allegorie, Geistiger Sinn, trans. Rudolf Voderhoizer (Einsiedeln: Johannes Verlag, 1999). 



THE UNPRECEDENTED "PRESUMPTION" OF CHANGING THE WORLD: A HOMILY & MASS BY POPE FRANCIS and AN ESSAY BY A SOCIOLOGIST by Sandro Magister

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A homily and a Mass of Pope Francis. An essay by the sociologist Luca Diotallevi. Convergent in seeing in the Eucharist the genesis of the new world 



ROME, April 11, 2013 – Almost one month after his election as pope, there are two words that Jorge Mario Bergoglio has not yet pronounced: religious freedom.

He did not say them, contrary to expectation, even in the discourse that he addressed to the ambassadors from almost all the countries of the world.

The only time he has spoken of religious freedom - although without calling it by name - was on Saturday, April 6, in one of the brief homilies that he improvises during the morning Masses in the chapel of the Casa di Santa Marta, where he resides.

But he did so in a style of his own. Pope Francis did not waste any words against the persecutors, nor against those who in more subtle forms suffocate the freedom of believers.

Instead, he took the side of the persecuted:

"To find the martyrs it is not necessary to go to the catacombs or to the Colosseum: the martyrs are living now, in many countries. Christians are persecuted for their faith, today, in the 21st century, our Church is a Church of martyrs.”

Then he identified himself with ordinary Christians. He cited the words of Peter and John in the Acts of the Apostles: “We cannot remain silent about what we have seen and heard.” Then he continued:

"The faith is not negotiable. There has always been, in the history of the people of God, this temptation: to cut a piece away from the faith, perhaps not even very much. But the faith is how we speak of it in the Creed. We must overcome the temptation to do a bit as everyone does, not to be so very rigid, because right from there begins a road that ends in apostasy. In fact, when we begin to cut up the faith, to negotiate the faith, to sell it to the highest bidder, we start down the road of apostasy, of infidelity to the Lord.”

For Pope Francis, religious freedom means above all “having the courage to bear witness to faith in the risen Christ.” A faith that is complete, and public. A faith that presumes to transform society.

*

“The presumption” is precisely the title that the sociologist of religion Luca Diotallevi has given to his latest essay, published in recent days.

It is an essay harshly critical toward the theories of “secularism” - theories widespread even within the Church and improperly applied to Vatican Council II as well - that rule out a direct connection between the Gospel and the social order, in homage to a presumed “neutrality” of the state.

To the paradigm of “secularism” Diotallevi opposes the paradigm of religious freedom, typical of the Anglo-Saxon world but with theological foundations that have their bedrock in the "De Civitate Dei" of Augustine and before that in the New Testament.

According to this vision, the “saeculum" between the first and second coming of Christ is an interweaving of time and eternity, it is a conflict between sin and grace. In this conflict participate the thrones, the principalities, the dominations of which the New Testament speaks, referring to the powers of this world. They are the rebel powers over which the cross and resurrection of Jesus have won definitive victory, victory that however has not yet had its fulfillment. In the “saeculum" these powers still oscillate between the extremes of anarchy and absolute dominion, while the Church, which safeguards the gift of victory, works to hold them back from one and the other extreme.

After Augustine, this New Testament vision of history has been developed in our time by Oscar Cullmann and Joseph Ratzinger, extensively cited by Diotallevi.

But the most original feature of the essay is where it identifies in the celebration of the Eucharist the source and summit of this “presumption” of the impact of the Christian faith on the social order, here as well in full continuity with Benedict XVI.

Diotallevi writes:

"Every Eucharistic liturgy, every Mass, is a rite in which the participant makes the claim of sharing in the one work of victory and making an effective proclamation of it. The Eucharist does not provide any definite or definitive model of social order. The heavenly Jerusalem will come on the last day and from on high, and the Eucharist works and proclaims the victory that shatters space and time so as to generate time and space for that gift. It works and proclaims the definitive defeat of the plans of dominion of the powers and principalities, opening and indicating a never-stabilized intermediate condition between absolute dominion and anarchic dissolution of social life.”

And again:

"The celebration of the Eucharist proclaims and realizes the prohibition of any statalization of the Church and any ecclesiasticization of politics. The pilgrim Church does not found the earthly 'civitas,' but dwells there and by dwelling in it preserves it.”

*

In the light of this vision, it becomes even more understandable why Pope Francis decided to celebrate the Mass last Holy Thursday not only in a place, like the juvenile detention facility of Casal del Marmo, in which the conflict between sin and grace is more visible than elsewhere, but also in the presence of persons of other faiths and of no faith.

Because the Eucharist is the Church that makes itself visible, it is the victorious work of God that breaks through into history and is presented to the gaze of every man, it is Jesus raised on the cross between the two thieves, with the centurion who recognizes him as Son and the earth that trembles. 

The educated pagans of the first centuries were not mistaken when to identify Christianity they described it in the very act of celebrating the liturgy.

__________


The book:

Luca Diotallevi, "La pretesa. Quale rapporto tra vangelo e ordine sociale?", Rubbettino, Soveria Mannelli, 2013, pp. 140, euro 12.00.

 THE ICON OF THE TRANSFIGURATION

This may not seem to have anything to do with the report by Sandro Magister, but I think it fits in very well.
I was chatting after Mass on the Feast of the Annunciation which is our patronal feastday because we are "the Monastery of the Incarnation."  We were discussing the "luminous mysteries" composed by Pope John Paul II.   Someone said that he couldn't make head or tail of the Transfiguration.   He asked me if I would tell him how the Transfiguration is relevant to his spiritual life.

I said, "I saw that you went to communion today.   Jesus said, ""He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. ... Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood live in me, and I live in them."   Hence you are a tabernacle, a living monstrance; and Christ lives in you. He wants to transform you so that you can share in his own divine life; and he wants to manifest his presence to others.  Yet, not long after communion we forget and occupy our minds with other things.     He wants to allow us to say in truth, "I do not live, but Christ lives in me;" but how can we,  if we ignore him?   We must centre our lives on him whom we receive in communion and who dwells in our heart; and he will transfigure us from within.   We don't transfigure ourselves: Christ does that in proportion to our humility, and to the degree that we put ourselves at his disposition..   The deeper our humility, the more intimate the union of ourselves with Christ, and the more we manifest his presence if and when and how he wills.   Why is a mere photo of Mother Teresa of Calcutta better than many a sermon?   Her very presence spoke of Christ who lived within her.

    It begins with communion; and as this communion grows deeper, so we are transformed.   This transformation is our participation in the Transfiguration.   We begin by taking seriously Christ's presence within our hearts.


click on A Commentary by Dom AlexEacheandia, monk of Pachacamac, on an icon of the Transfiguration he has "written".   It is a post well worth taking the trouble to read.   Dom Alex is a pupil Aidan Hart, a very good Orthodox iconographer.   There is a link to Aidan Hart's blog in "Imago Dei".   It is a good blog and an excellent article.

READING THE FATHERS TODAY

A WITNESS OF CHRIST IN THE CHURCH: HANS URS VON BALTHASAR by Henri de Lubac S.J.

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Hans Urs von Balthasar


I will be very grateful if someone Orthodox who is theologically literate  would read this post, listen to the videos with attention, and then would comment on this theology.

As Ludwig Kaufmann has justly remarked in a recent issue of Orientierung, it is disconcerting that from the first summons of the Council by John XXIII, it did not seem to have occurred to anyone to invite Hans Urs von Balthasar to contribute to its preparatory work. Disconcerting and -- not to put a tooth in it -- humiliating, but a fact that must be humbly accepted. Perhaps, all in all, it was better that he should be allowed to devote himself completely to his task, to the continuation of a work so immense in size and depth that the contemporary Church has seen nothing comparable.

For a long time to come the entire Church is going to profit from it. Indispensable though such things undoubtedly are, Hans Urs von Balthasar is not a man for commissions, discussions, compromise formulas, or collective drafts. But the conciliar texts that resulted from them -- of Vatican II and of all previous councils -- constitute a treasure that will not be yielded up at a single stroke: the councils are the work of the Spirit, and so these texts contain more than their humble compilers were conscious of putting in them. When later the time comes to exploit this treasure it will be seen that for the accomplishing of this task no work will be as helpful and full of resource as that of von Balthasar.

One thing we see immediately: there is not one of the subjects tackled by Vatican II that does not find a treatment in depth -- and in the same spirit and sense as the Council -- in his work. Revelation, Church, ecumenism, priesthood, liturgy of the word, and eucharistic liturgy occupy a considerable portion. Valuable insights on dialogue, on the signs of the times and the instruments of social communications will also be found.... Before the Fathers of the Council had insisted that the dominant role of Christ be recognized in the schemas on the Church and revelation, von Balthasar had seen the need. His voice was an advance echo, as it were, of the voices that were raised in St. Peter's to ask for an adequate statement of the role of the Holy Spirit. The Virgin Mary in the mystery of the Church, her prototype and anticipated consummation, is one of his favored contemplations. Gently, but with all the force of love, he has denounced those eternal temptations of churchmen, "power" and "triumph", and has at the same time recalled to all the necessity of witnessing through "service".

His spiritual diagnosis of our civilization is the most penetrating to be found. Though it would be going too far to claim that he had produced a complete outline of the famous Schema 13 (Gaudium et Spes), he did, certainly, anticipate its spirit when he shows how "in the same way that the Spirit calls the world to enter into the Church, so he calls the Church to give herself to the world"; and he warns us that no good will come of a facile synthesis of the two.

In many cases one would also find in his writings the means to avoid the pitfalls of false interpretation which inevitably follow upon a call to aggiornamento. (We should state straightaway that he has courageously declared war on certain wild abandons that are a betrayal of the Council. Had more allies rushed to his flag, he would have had no need to write certain rather savage pages).

And if, finally, one is seeking (always in line with the Council) the doctrinal framework needed before beginning the dialogue with the non-Christian religions and the various forms of modern atheism, one can safely go to von Balthasar.

His work is, as we have said, immense. So varied is it, so complex, usually so undidactic, so wide-ranging through different genres, that its unity is difficult to grasp, at least at first blush. But, strangely enough, once you have got to grips with it, the unity stands out so forcefully that you despair of outlining it without betraying it. It is like a radiant impulse penetrating from a central point to all corners of his work.

With the astonished perception of the immense culture he enjoys, displayed without pedantry, must go equal appreciation of the strong judgment that dominates this culture. The reader has to appreciate the breadth of thought that is never narrow or doctrinaire even when it had to be (or believed it had to be) hard and trenchant; and yet, at the same time the reader has to fell the rigorous balance of doctrine that is, in both senses of the word, profoundly catholic. And our problem does not end there: the reader must also be brought to see that he is never confronted with a purely theoretical construction; nor is von Balthasar a polisher of systems. Author of numerous books, some of them very long, neither is he a book factory! Every word he writes envisages an action, a decision. He has not the slightest time for "that certain economy of the mind which budgets and spares itself": everything is squandered that the "personal meeting" with God may be arrived at without delay.

This man is perhaps the most cultivated of his time. If there is a Christian culture, then here it is! Classical antiquity, the great European literatures, the metaphysical tradition, the history of religions, the diverse exploratory adventures of contemporary man and, above all, the sacred sciences, St. Thomas, St. Bonaventure, patrology (all of it) -- not to speak just now of the Bible -- none of them that is not welcomed and made vital by this great mind. Writers and poets, mystics and philosophers, old and new, Christians of all persuasions--all are called on to make their particular contribution. All these are necessary for his final accomplishment, to a greater glory of God, the Catholic symphony.

Many of his books are historical studies or translations or anthologies: he likes to remain in the background of the pictures he commissions to serve as witnesses of the truth of man or of God. He was twenty-five when he published his first work, Apokalypse der deutschen Seele, which was a historical commentary of the whole of German thought. A new edition has since appeared. Another book was an anthology of Nietzsche.

He has written commentaries on the Epistles of St. Paul to the Thessalonians and the pastoral Epistles. He has published his own translations of many of the Fathers: Irenaeus, the Apologists, Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Augustine. To several he has devoted a special study that in each case gave new life to its subject: Presence et Pensee, for instance, on Gregory of Nyssa; Kosmische Liturgie on Maximus the Confessor. He has given us a commentary on part of Augustine's De Genesi ad letterum, and also on part of the Summa Theologica (Questions on Prophecy).

His translations include the revelations of St. Mechtildis of Helfta, the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (whose devoted disciple he is), the Carnets Intimes of Maurice Blondel -- as well as the greater part of Calderon's religious drama. His incomparable translation of the lyric poems and Le Soulier de Satin of Claudel are well known.

He had done critical studies on Martin Buber and R. Schneider, on Peguy and Bernanos (Le Chretien Bernanos was one of the last books the Abbe Monchanin read in the summer of 1957 at Kodaikanal). The substance of a book (recently reprinted) which is a confrontation of the Protestant Reformation and Catholicism he owes to his close contacts with a neighbor in Basel, Karl Barth.

He has discussed the message of the two French Carmelites, Elizabeth of Dijon and Therese of Lisieux. The second volume of the monumental work he was long engaged on, Herrlichkeit, consists of a series of twelve monographs in which Denys and Anselm meet Dante and John of the Cross, Pascal and Hamann meet Soloviev and Hopkins....

Without ever abdicating his freedom to criticize, he is at ease with all, even those whose genius might appear most foreign to his own; but when the time comes to disagree with them he does not hesitate. He excels at highlighting the original contribution of each. He admires human wisdom wherever he finds it -- but surpasses it. Sensitive to man's Angst, he emerges from it in faith. The light from so many ancient sources allows him to illuminate the present situation and the accumulated wisdom of the centuries allows him, if we maybe permitted the metaphor, to bury his arrows ever deeper in our present reality.

The inner universe he introduces us to is thereby in its marvelous variety, perfectly unified. As in Tolstoy's epic, a broad and calm atmosphere prevails; as in Dostoevsky, this atmosphere is electric with sharp spiritual insight. All is patterned around a lofty and unchanging notion of truth, outlined in his beautiful work Phenomenologie de la Verite. Truth is the cornerstone on which his theology of history is erected, more particularly in two essays. Finally, every word is designed to set in relief a basic anthropology relating to modern situations and the most pressing problems being faced by man today.

The contribution of the positive sciences is, perhaps, rather neglected, though scientific knowledge is assigned its proper place. The arts, it seems to von Balthasar, have more to offer by way of illuminating suggestion. He realizes, in fact, that the great works of art -- and every great work is a work of art -- go beyond so-called purely aesthetic categories and ought to be accepted, as they were conceived of by their artists, as efforts to complete a full image of man. Elsewhere he remarks that since the Renaissance, man is no longer thought of and understood in the cosmological context but in an openly anthropological one. And since "in an anthropological era the highest objectivity can only be attained by total engagement on man's part", we see the heightened dramatic character of all modern thought worthy of the name, a character that corresponds to the drama of existence itself.

Emerged from the cosmic development that nursed him, no longer in any way capable of regarding himself as one object among many, no longer having any home but his own fragility, man, von Balthasar thinks, is more predestined than ever "to become religious man" if he is to surmount this crisis of "dereliction" resulting from the new situation. His rapport with God acquires a sudden urgency; the biblical teaching of man made in God's image becomes better delineated in his eyes and without the stage of natural knowledge being destroyed in the process the revelation of Jesus Christ presents itself to him more than ever as the necessary response to the interrogation forever carried on by his being. In his existence in time and history that constitutes "the visible explication of the existence-form of the God-Trinity", Jesus comes to reveal this unknown that was in him to man; then "his features expand, are enlightened and deepened when he meets, not a mirror giving him back his own image, but his own supreme original".

It is quite impossible to summarize here the theological thought of von Balthasar; we shall confine ourselves to the essentials. What distinguishes it and gives it its most striking originality is its refusal to be labeled. It can neither be termed old nor modern; it derives from no school and repudiates all piecemeal "specialization'. With no axe to grind, no single aspect of a given question is stressed to the detriment of the others, or rather, it refuses to delay over successive "aspects" while never forgetting to consider each.

The indispensable technicalities are there, whether in criticism (certain work on Origen, Evagrius, or Maximus, for instance, is inspired guesswork followed up by the most rigorous verification), or in dialectic (as in the dialectic "of the unveiling and enveloping" to different degrees of revelation, or in the relation of negative natural theology to the knowledge of the "face of revelation" which is given to us in Christ). But, for all that, it retains a highly synthetic character which breaks down the barriers to the interior life of things where the classic theology of our times is usually bogged down. While it does not offer direct pedagogical models, his thought -- and even the form of his thought -- may be usefully meditated on in view of the new directions which Christian thought must take since the Council.

Not to labor the point, let us say that in a word his theology, like our ordinary credos, is essentially trinitarian. Not that the Trinity fragments the divine unity -- it is revealed to us, after all, through its work of salvation which is itself perfectly one. The "seamless coat" and the "lance's thrust" are the symbols he uses to bring this home to us:
"A mystery that is broken up into aspects (epinoiai) will yield its secrets to the inquiring intelligence. But there is one mystery that absolutely refuses to do so, the irreducible mystery of the persona ineffabilis. From him the whole Church comes in his death, with the water and the blood -- the Church which with all her truths, liturgies, and dogmas is only an emanation of the heart that broke unto death, as Origen better than anyone else understood."

For the "thrust of the lance on Golgotha is in some manner the sacrament of the spiritual thrust that wounds the Word and so spreads it everywhere.... The Word of God cast into our world is the fruit of this unique wound."
It is the Holy Spirit who ceaselessly introduces the Christian into the heart of this mystery. The Spirit's role is to "refresh daily the memory of the Church and to supplement it in a renewed manner" with all truth. It is he who realizes everything in the Church and in her individual members "as it was he who formerly realized the Incarnation of the Word in the womb of the Virgin". Also von Balthasar likes to point out the continuity between "the Marian experience" and "the maternal experience of the Church". He likes to speak of "the Marian dimension of the Church" or of "the Marian Church", and this simple expression we take as a condensation of his teaching which might also be said to be the teaching of the Church, or of the Virgin Mary, or of the Spirit, or of Christ, or of the Christian life.

His refusal of all biased "modernity" is by no means a refuge from present problems and the responsibilities they impose. The theologian must transmit a truth which is not his own and which he must guard against alteration, but transmitting this truth and watching over change to new situations demands from him a real involvement:
"One sees this very clearly in the manner in which St. Paul transmits what had been confided to him. Anyone who would wish to insert himself without danger in the chain of Tradition and transmit the treasures of theology, almost as children who switch their hot buns from hand to hand in the hope of not being burnt, would be the victim of a sorry illusion, quite simply because thoughts are not buns, or rather because from the morning of Easter combat was joined between the material and the spiritual."
This theology, so traditional, remains relevant today and indeed does not lack a certain audacity. Von Balthasar has recalled to the modern theologian the immense task that confronts him and that even demands that he give all his attention for the moment to the central core of the doctrinal question:
"The doctrines of the Trinity, of the Man-God, of redemption, of the Cross and the Resurrection, of predestination, and eschatology, are literally bristling with problems which no one raises, which everyone gingerly sidesteps. They deserve more respect. The thought of preceding generations even when incorporated in conciliar definitions is never a resting-place where the thought of the following generations can lie idle. Definitions are less the end than the beginning.... No doubt anything that was won after a severe battle will be lost again for the Church, which does not however dispense the theologian from setting to work immediately again. Whatever is transmitted without a new personal effort, an effort which must start ab ovo, from the revealed source itself, spoils like the manna. And the longer the interruption of living tradition caused by a simply mechanical transmission the more difficult the renewed tackling of the task."
The boldness of such a program, we can see clearly enough, does not lead us onto perilous or uncharted seas; it does lead us to the living center of the mystery. Its primary concern is for completeness. Von Balthasar's audacity is not an irresponsible appetite for novelty: it proceeds from a faith whose daring grows in proportion to the strength of its roots. He himself is one of those men of whom he has spoken, men who devoted the work of their lives "to the splendor of theology -- theology, that devouring fire between two nights, two abysses: adoration and obedience".

The denials and lack of comprehension of our age disconcert few people as little as him. Fashionable opinion does not intimidate him; he never entertains the temptation to water down the vigorous affirmation of doctrine or the rigorous demands of the Gospel. There is no trace in him of that terrible inferiority complex rampant today in certain milieux among many Christian consciences. The Church, he has written, following St. Jerome and Newman, "like the rod of Aaron, devours the magicians' serpents"; and by her, at the same time, he says in an image borrowed from Claudel and which might also be described as Teilhardian, "the key of the Christian vault is come to open the pagan forest". And so von Balthasar has done. With calm assurance he displays to all, as far as he can, the entire Christian treasure. He does not hesitate to oppose, not criticism nor psychology nor technology nor mysticism, but all their unwarranted pretensions, and no one can accuse him of blaspheming what he does not know.
He knows the value of "human sciences", he admires their conquests but will not submit to their totalitarian claims. His many observations on scriptural exegesis, on the need for a spiritual intelligence, and, in particular, on the blindness of a certain historico-critical method of dealing with the meaning of the history of Israel and the person of Jesus, all deserve a wider audience. "The Holy Spirit", he writes, "is a reality which the philologists and philosophers of comparative religion are ignorant of or at least 'provisionally put into parentheses'." Von Balthasar removes the parentheses, or rather, he shows us how the Holy Spirit himself removes them.

Some of his criticisms -- they are rare -- might appear harsh. In every case they arose from his concern not to compromise essentials. He is too far above pettiness, too heedless of passing modes and allurements--particularly those that arise from pseudo-science or a frivolous faith -- not to find himself often isolated. In the end however his attitude is always positive. His "tough line" is the same as that he has pointed out in Christ, the revealer of love. He is being true to his own position when he warns us of the dangers of isolationism. He does not wish "through enthusiasm for the glorious past of the Church", or for any other reason, that the Christian "forsake the men of today and tomorrow. Quite the contrary. It is the duty of all who represent Jesus Christ -- be they bishops or layfolk -- to keep open their perspective on the human; never to allow any maneuver to push them back into isolationism or negative attitudes."
"We live in a time of spiritual aridity." The vital equilibrium between action and contemplation has been lost, to the apparent profit of the first but, for the very same reason, to its detriment. Von Balthasar has tried to reestablish this equilibrium. All his work has a contemplative dimension and it is this above all that gives it its profundity and flavor.

He introduced again into theology the category of the beautiful. But make no mistake, this is not to say that he surrendered the content of the Faith to current notions in secular aesthetics. (He had already said in Le Chretien Bernanos: "There exists a theological, an ecclesiological aesthetic that has nothing at all to do with aestheticism. In it pure human beauty meets with the beauty of the supernatural").
He began by restoring to the beautiful its position as a transcendental --t his beauty "which demands courage and decision at least as much as truth and goodness, and which may not be separated from its sisters without drawing upon it their mysterious vengeance". He has not agreed with those theologians who based their work on the separation of aesthetics from theology. His "theological aesthetics", however, is not an "aesthetic theology"; it has nothing to do with any aestheticism whatever. Moreover, in this mystery of the beautiful which men, not daring to believe in it, converted into a mere appearance, he sees, as in the biblical description of wisdom, the union of the "intangible brilliance" and the "determined form", which requires and conditions in the believer the unity of faith and vision.

The beautiful is at once "image" and "strength", and is so par excellence in that perfect "figure of revelation" who is the Man-God. Faith contemplates this figure and its contemplation is prayer. Von Balthasar has observed that wherever the very greatest works were produced there was invariably "an environment of prayer and contemplation". The law is verified in an analogous manner even in the pagan domain:
"The proud spirits who never prayed and who today pass for torchbearers of culture vanish, with regularity, after a few years and are replaced by others. Those who pray are torn by the populace that does not pray, like Orpheus torn by the Maenads, but even in their lacerations their song is still heard everywhere; and if, because of their ill-use by the multitude, they seem to lose their influence, they remain hidden in a protected place where, in the fullness of time, they will be found once again by men of prayer."
Jesus, "indivisible Man-God", is at once the object and model of Christian contemplation. This is the burden of the great work, still uncompleted, Herrlichkeit. The idea is put into action in a book like The Heart of the World in which the heart of Jesus opens to us in a kind of lyrical explosion. It may be seen even better perhaps in Prayer, an introduction to prayer that is at the same time a complete -- the most complete available -- outline of the Christian mystery. We shall restrict ourselves here to quoting just one passage, a passage of great value in that it provokes reflection on the primordial importance of contemplation in the life of the apostle:
"All we have been able to attest to other men, our brothers, of the divine reality comes from contemplation; of Jesus Christ, of our Church. One cannot hope to announce in a lasting and effective manner the contemplation of Christ and the Church if one does not oneself participate in them. No more than a man who has never loved is capable of speaking usefully of love. Even the smallest problem in the world will not be solved by one who has not met this world; no Christian will be an effective apostle if he does not announce, firm as the 'rock' Peter, what he has seen and heard: 'We did not bring you the knowledge of the power and advent of our Lord Jesus Christ on the warrant of human fables, but because we have been privileged to see his majesty. He received from God the Father honor and glory.... This voice (of the Father) we have heard when we were with him on the holy mountain...'"
And he continues, not without sadness:
"But who today speaks of Tabor in the program of Catholic action? And who speaks of seeing, hearing, or touching that which all the zeal in the world cannot preach and propagate if the apostle himself has not recognized and experienced it? Who speaks of the ineffable peace of eternity beyond the conflicts of earth? But also, who speaks of the weakness and obvious powerlessness of crucified Love whose 'annihilation' to the extent of becoming 'sin' and 'accursed' has given birth to all strength and salvation for the Church and mankind? Whoever has not experienced this mystery through contemplation will never be able to speak of it, or even act according to it, without a feeling of embarrassment and a twinge of conscience, unless, indeed, the very naivete of such a basically worldly business has not already made this bad conscience apparent to him."
(He has also, most opportunely, pointed out the danger of a "liturgical movement" which would be "isolated and uncontemplative", just as he has also indicated his "contempt" for a war that has been declared against the contemplative tendency and that is sometimes waged in the name of eschatology).
On specifically Christian contemplation von Balthasar's judgment is equally lucid: 
"All the other unfathomable depths to which man's contemplation may penetrate, when they are not expressly or implicitly the depths of the trinitarian, human-divine, or ecclesial life, are either not real depths at all or are those of the devil."
There is a kind of spiritual pride that is the most dangerous inversion of all; many so-called "mystical" states are no more than "artificial paradises" and as for those "sublime spirits" who search for the way apart from or above the humanity of the Savior, "what they experience in their ecstasies is the disguised ghost of their empty nostalgia". Even in the Christian spiritual life it maybe opportune to recall that "the Gospel and the Church are not dionysiac: their overall impression is of sobriety; elation is left for the sects."
These reservations do not, however, tend in the slightest to "crush the Spirit". The Spirit must be received in the manner in which he gives himself, in a sort of tension between precision and enthusiasm:
"The saints knew how to do it: it is precisely this precision of the image Jesus as projected by the Spirit that they would wax enthusiastic about; and then their very enthusiasm, expressed with precision, would convey to all the fact that they had been gripped by this image. Even if they were full of indubitable truths that might express for all the world the truth of the Gospel, the saints were not arid textbooks: expressing the truth was the very life of the saints gripped by the Holy Spirit of Christ."
Even for the humblest and weakest Christian it is in the simplicity of his Yes of acceptance and openness, in imitation of the Yes said by Mary to the Word, that the element of contemplation, inserted at the base of every act of faith by the Holy Spirit, is developed.

No matter what subject he is treating, and even if he never mentions any of their names, it is very clear that von Balthasar was formed in the school of the Fathers of the Church. With many of them he is on more than familiar terms; he has in many ways become almost like them. For all that, he is no slavish admirer: he recognizes the weaknesses of each and the inevitable limitations that result from the age in which each lived. With his customary frankness he criticizes even those he admires and loves most. But their vision has become his own. It is principally to them that he owes his profound appreciation of the Christian attitude before the Word of God.
He owes them too that vibrant feeling of wonder and adoration before the "nuptial mystery" and the "marvelous reciprocation of contraries" realized by the Incarnation of the Word. He is indebted to them for that sense of greater universality (in the strictest orthodoxy) because "it would appear at first that the infinite richness of God contracts and centers in a single point, the humanity of Jesus Christ ... but this unity reveals itself as capable of integrating everything".
This rhythm of reflection that combines confidence in received truth with a wide-ranging scope in investigation is also patristic. It is in spontaneous imitation of the Fathers that in him "the crystal of thought takes fire in the interior and becomes a mystical life". They have communicated to him their burning love for the Church: for them, as for him "the Church is the exact limit of the horizon of Christ's redemption just as, for us, Christ is the horizon of God". This is why he considers it as futile to stress the many human faults "which are only too clear to anyone who looks", as it is vital "to bring to light the admirable secrets of the Church which the world does not know of and which scarcely anyone wishes to recognize".
The study of the "Church of the Fathers", in Newman's phrase, has confirmed him in an attitude as distant from "false tolerance" as it is far from "confessional narrowness', so that his work, to anyone who wishes to meditate on it, offers a profound ecumenical resonance. One of the great apostles of ecumenism, Patriarch Athenagoras, recognized as much when he sent a messenger to Fr. von Balthasar with a gift of the gold cross of Mount Athos. We may also be glad that as the Faculty of Protestant Theology at Edinburgh University had already done, the Faculty of Catholic Theology at the University of Munster asked him in 1965 to accept an honorary doctorate.
It seems that von Balthasar has felt a certain shared situation with that of the Fathers, not in any archaic sense, but in that he too seeks to harness all the features of the culture of his time to make them achieve their full flowering in Christ -- though he does not forget, any more than the Fathers did, that all the "spoils of the Egyptians are of no use and could, in fact, become a deadly burden if they are not received into a converted heart. For it is not the greatest knowledge or the deepest wisdom that is right but the greatest obedience, the deepest humility; not the sublimity of thought, but the effective simplicity of love."
Effective simplicity are the key words if we are not to give a false idea of where this theologian would wish to lead us: he is theologian only to be apostle. For him, the task of theology, as Albert Beguin has written, "is ceaselessly to refer back into humble practice the full significance of the revealed word".
We must confine ourselves here to his written work. As we have already insinuated this work is not narrow or inbred; its "Pauline passion" makes this very clear. Nothing pleases the author more than to wean his words away from dreams, from the illusion of some "spurious eternity", to immerse them in the "true temporality" which is the process of configuration to Christ by submission, hic et nunc, to his Gospel. This is shown in one of his latest works, a short treatise with the Kierkegaardian title: Wer ist ein Christ?

The other element of his makeup, besides the Fathers, is the influence of St. Ignatius of Loyola. The need for total commitment to the following of Christ and for fidelity to what one has received from him, these two great themes of the Spiritual Exercises were revealed to him by his teacher, Erich Przywara, in all their force. His own ever deeper study of the Exercises has strengthened this conviction, which he is forever communicating to others.

Read, for instance, his booklet, published some fifteen years ago, Laicat et plein apostolat; follow it up with the splendid chapter he contributed to the symposium Das Wagnis der Nachfolge - "Zur Theologie des Ratestandes". One may, if one wishes, pass over the concrete plans for a secular institute proposed in it; such things are contingent, depending on circumstances of time and place and personal likes and dislikes. But at this moment, with so many clamoring voices whose Christianity seems marginal arising in the bosom of the Church, those who are troubled and anxious at the sight of all the spray in the wash of the great vessel, the Ecumenical Council, even if they have no stomach for the deeper reaches of his greater works, will find much comfort in this essay that recalls, so objectively and precisely, the laws of the Gospel. It will also show them what the true dignity of the layman is, in Christ.

They will also better understand why the Council decided to include in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, as though to contribute to the definition, the two chapters on the universal call to sanctity and on the externally organized spiritual life: just as the Old Testament was not confined to preparing men for the coming of Christ but also had the role of unfolding, even before the event, the dimensions of his person, so, and even more so, the Church does not restrict herself to the instruction of men with a view to the final return of Christ, but announces that his imprint must be placed on all creation, that a movement is under way which will end only under new skies and in a new land.
"She is not only on her way to this event; as the 'mystical parousia' she is its beginning." And as for those who are determined to be true imitators of Christ in their apostolates, they will find themselves forewarned against the discouragement lying in wait for them when they hear the author say that for these true imitators, "Christian suffering will not be spared."
Effective simplicity, we were saying, of love. This last is not a word von Balthasar pronounces lightly: he feels its full weight. Even before he reckons up the conditions for a Christian to realize it, he sees the human impossibility of it. How could man love man? He would "perish at the stifling" contact:
"If in the other person nothing is offered but what one already knows fundamentally for oneself -- the limitations inherent in his nature, his anguish before them, his constant buffeting by them: death, sickness, folly, chance; a being to whom this anguish can give wings to the most astonishing discoveries -- why should the 'I' lose itself for a 'Thou' which the 'I' cannot honestly believe is, at the deepest level, any different from itself? No reason at all, of course! If in my like it is not God I meet; if, in love, no breath of wind brings me the sweet scent of the infinite; if I cannot love my neighbor with any other love than that arising from my finite capacity; if therefore, in our meeting, that great reality that bears the name of love does not come from God and return to him -- beginning the adventure is not worth the trouble.

It rescues neither from his prison nor his solitude. Animals can love one another without knowing God because they have no consciousness of themselves. But as for those beings whose nature permits and forces this reflection, and who have learned to practice it so profoundly that not only an individual but all humanity can look itself in the face, for them love of another is impossible without God."
But Jesus came and, having promulgated his great commandment, diffused his Spirit:
"The Fathers of the Church and the medievalists were at considerable pains to explain why his coming was so late. We, on the contrary, ask why he did not delay his arrival till today when existence on this planet has become insupportable without him. Be that as it may, the seed he sowed pushes its way above the ground and becomes visible."
The hour of history has sounded when it has become evident that man cannot be loved except in God -- and that God is only loved in "the sacrament of our brother". It is also the hour when it must be recognized -- Jesus himself was explicit on this subject -- 'that all Christian love implies a bursting out of enclosures and inner precincts, an outgoing to the world, to him who does not love, to the lost brother, to the enemy.' The Church is the Spouse of Christ but will not be acknowledged as such except in the transcendence that is her love. Glaubhaft ist nur Liebe. In all that it is most intimate and pressing, Christian love surpasses 'Christianity' but this very action of surpassing is Christianity itself.
And it is also God himself:
"... If the supreme reality in God were truth, we should be able to look, with great open eyes, into its abysses, blinded perhaps by so much light, but hampered by nothing in our flight towards truth. But love being the decisive reality, the seraphim cover their faces with their wings, for the mystery of eternal love is such that even the excessive brilliance of its night cannot be glorified except in adoration."
We have barely touched on some of the many themes this immense achievement offers for our consideration, barely indicated some of its characteristics. We must now try to penetrate the secret of this highly personal thought, but whose personality consists solely in a loving search for an objective grasp of the mystery. Our reward (if we are successful) will be a heightened consciousness of the unique originality of our faith and, by that very fact, of every effort of the intelligence which wishes to be faithful to it. Since we cannot fully explore the whole, let us at least point out one of the avenues that leads to its center.

The precise nature of von Balthasar's invitation to us to look on the face of Jesus is conditioned by a rather rigorous interpretation of the Christological formula of Chalcedon. The "density of the human nature" of Christ is altered not a whit by its union to the divinity, no more after the Resurrection than during the earthly existence -- and the personal unity is not so less perfect that the man Jesus is not the face expressive of God. "Not for a single instant is the glory of God absent from the Lamb, or the light of the Trinity from that of the incarnate Word". it follows that for the Christian, negative theology, even when pushed to its extremes, is not detached from its base, the positive theology that illumines that face.

No doubt, for him as for all, the divinity is incomprehensible: Si comprehenderis, non est Deus / if you comprehend, it is not God. The dissimilarity between the Creator and the creature will always be greater than the similarity. But the situation of the Christian is still not much different from that of the philosopher or any other religious man. He knows that God himself has a face. What appears in Jesus Christ "is the Trinitarian God making himself visible, an object of experience; the face in revelation is not the limit of an infinite without face, it manifests an infinitely determined face."
In Jesus the believer sees God. For him, therefore,
"what is incomprehensible in God no longer proceeds from a mere ignorance; it is a positive determination by God of the knowledge of faith: the daunting and stupefying incomprehensibility of the fact that God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son, that the God of all plentitude lowered himself not only in his creation but in the conditions of an existence determined by sin, destined for death, removed from God. Such is the obscurity that appears even as it hides itself, the intangible character of God that becomes tangible by the very act of touching him."
That cannot any longer happen in Christianity what "cannot but happen" everywhere else: "that the finite is, in the last analysis, absorbed by the infinite; the non-identical snuffed out by the identical"; religion devoured by mysticism. Accomplished "once for all", the humiliation of God in the Incarnation cannot be nullified. In the tension manifest in the face of Christ "between the grandeur of a free God and the abasement of a loving one", "the heart of the divinity" is opened before the Christian's eyes.
The entire trinitarian teaching and all theology of revelation are bound up with this central vision; they explain one another through it and are themselves necessary for its understanding. As is normal, while the mind gives its consent to all this by an intuitive impulse, it makes the intelligence alert, satisfies it, and finally, like all fruitful thought, poses it more problems than it answers....
To finish what we set out to do we shall make another brief incursion, not this time to the core of the doctrine, but to the heart of the spirituality that corresponds to it. (Need we say that our efforts are no substitute for personal reading of his works.) A single word defines this spirituality: it is a spirituality of Holy Saturday.
"There was a day when Nietzsche was right: God was dead, the Word was not heard in the world, the body was interred and the tomb sealed up, the soul descended into the bottomless abyss of Sheol." This descent of Jesus into the kingdom of the dead "was part of his abasement even if (as St. John admits of the Cross) this supreme abasement is already surrounded by the thunderbolts of Easter night. In fact, did not the very descent to hell bring redemption to the souls there?" It prolonged in some manner the cry from the Cross: Why have you abandoned me? "Nobody could ever shout that cry from a deeper abyss than did he whose life was to be perpetually born of the Father."
But there remains the imitation of Christ. There is a participation, not only sacramental, but contemplative in his mystery. There is an experience of the abandonment on the Cross and the descent into hell, and experience of the poena damni. There is the crushing feeling of the "ever greater dissimilarity" of God in the resemblance, however great, between him and the creature; there is the passage through death and darkness, the stepping through "the somber door". In conformity to the mission he has received, the prayerful man then experiences the feeling that "God is dead for him". And this is a gift of Christian grace -- but one receives it unawares. The lived and felt faith, charity, and hope rise above the soul to an inaccessible place, to God. From then on it is "in nakedness, poverty and humiliation" that the soul cries out to him.

Those who have experienced such states afterwards, more often than not, in their humility, see nothing in them but a personal purification. True to his doctrine which refuses to separate charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit, the ecclesial mission, and individual mysticism, von Balthasar discerns in it essentially this "Holy Saturday of contemplation" by which the Betrothed, in some chosen few of her members, is made to participate more closely in the redemption wrought by the Spouse. We have arrived at a time in history when human consciousness, enlarged and deepened by Christianity, inclines more and more to this interpretation.

The somber experience of Holy Saturday is the price to be paid for the dawn of the new spring of hope, this spring which has been "canonized in the rose garden of Lisieux": "is it not the beginning of a new creation? The magic of Holy Saturday ... Deep cave from which the water of life escapes."

Reading so many passages where this theme is taken up, we discern a distress, a solitude, a night -- of the quality, in fact, as that experienced by "the Heart of the world" -- and we understand that a work that communicates so full a joy must have been conceived in that sorrow.

Postscript: It is hard to believe that ten years have passed since these pages were written. They were meant as a testimony and not as an exposition or critique of von Balthasar's writings. Had they been meant as such, how inadequate they would have proved to be! And how much less adequate they would be today!

In these ten years a monument has grown up before our eyes. As soon as the first volume of the projected triptych, Herrlichkeit, was achieved, work on the second volume was immediately begun. Apart from the prodigious quantity, the greatness of the work becomes more and more evident, even though the author's modesty makes him shun the marketplace of publicity. Despite the silent hostility that superiority invariably encounters, and despite the remarkable resistance of certain professionals to take note of this unclassifiable man and acknowledge him as one of their own, even in France, where translations are regrettably few, haphazard, and sporadic, appearing at a desperately slow pace, von Balthasar's thought has captured one by one the spirit of an elite youth.

Looking at von Balthasar's work as a whole, among the many traits which cannot be all described here, I discern two main characteristics that have stood out in the course of the past decade and that seem to become more momentous and more consequential to the present.

First: instead of engaging in a series of a posteriori skirmishes with diverse presentations of Christian origins by contemporary writers, or being content to dissect them one by one to reveal the frequently chaotic excesses, von Balthasar grasps their essence in one glance with astonishing acumen. He takes hold of them, so to say, in one fell swoop which in itself is an intellectual feat -- and then, with keen discernment comes up with an altogether different and unexpected view.

The person of Jesus, shining with radiant beauty, has an unmistakable affinity with the original interpretations of the evangelists writings. There is a reversion of perspective, an application of Newman's method to an area that is even more fundamental than dogmatic development. The work is done with precision, with a spirit seeking understanding and rejoicing in what it finds. Never was the mysterious focal point, which is not the result but the source of unity, the unfathomable figure of Christ, the object of the Church Faith, made more clearly understandable to the historian.

Second: instead of, like many others, laboriously striving to rejuvenate scholasticism, for better or worse, by making gestures toward contemporary philosophy, or else abandoning, as so many others, all organized theological thought, von Balthasar shapes a fresh, original synthesis with radically biblical inspiration, without sacrificing any of the traditional dogmatic elements. His acute sensitivity to cultural developments and to the problems of our own times give him the necessary courage to do so.

His intimate knowledge witnessed to by his previous works -- of the Fathers of the Church, of St. Thomas Aquinas, and of the other great spiritual writers, enables him to engage in this venture. He was nurtured by these great men and he follows in their footsteps, without servility and without falsification, because he has fully assimilated their substance. His enterprise is a far cry from the sporadic and futile experiments which bear the earmarks of subjective fantasies, or which, spawned by resentment against Tradition, secularize the tenets of the Faith or minimize them to the point of vanishing.

These two fundamental characteristics, described here somewhat awkwardly and certainly very sketchily, seem to me the more remarkable as they exactly answer the two basic insufficiencies of Christian thought today, and also because their beginning antedates the last Council's invitation to theology to start its own aggiornamento. It is a mark of great and necessary works to arise in this manner, unnoticed at first, without even the initiator himself perceiving their future import. They take shape and develop as if by natural growth and not by command.

The twofold aspect of von Balthasar's approach described above does not compromise the divine origin of Christian faith and the authenticity of Christian theology. Rather, the first is placed into a new light and the second is freed of naturalistic and "objectivistic" consequences which in modern times have often burdened and even disfigured it. The irrepressible vitality of Tradition sweeps away scared conservatism. It is a fact that for nearly a century all attempts to complete the codification of scholasticism and seriously to renew it were stopped authoritatively. So much so, that today it seems to be withdrawn from circulation.

Because of the magnitude of this phenomenon it would be futile to measure particular injustices. But it might be of historical interest to note that even if such an effort of discriminating discernment were made, it would not be capable of awakening new life. The debate held over this great body dissected it as a corpse, and many feel that they now face a great void. Still, few doubt that a new structure will arise in the service of an intact and renewed faith, which will salvage from our squandered heritage what was most valuable. And yet, even the admirers of von Balthasar's works more often than not see merely a series of stimulating and beautiful books, written on important subjects that are more or less timely. They miss seeing their true import.

Nevertheless, with the passing years Hans Urs von Balthasar emerges more and more clearly as what he always has been: a man of the Church, in the most beautiful sense of the word. And in the present trial of the Church torn asunder by her own children, in a crisis the seriousness of which cannot be underestimated anymore by anyone--no matter what interpretation they may give it or whatever current phraseology they may use -- von Balthasar, with sensitive awareness, accepted from God the role that his quality as a theologian demands. As a result, marginally to his great theoretical works but not marginally to his essential plan, he wrote a series of small volumes, simple and accessible but not less important or less personal.

For the same purpose also his long and tenacious effort to create that International Theological Review, which under the title Communio endeavors to contribute to and strengthen the intellectual and spiritual vitality of Catholicism. For this also the many humbler works, sermons, intimate instructions, and communications.
All these reflect a virile strength of thought and, together with an unfailing serenity, a liberated, free spirit. Von Balthasar is sincerely seeking, is never discouraged, is always conciliating. He faces all situations with a generously understanding intelligence, and his heart is open to all who approach him.
"I feel as if I had always known him", said a recent visitor the day after their first meeting, surprised by the friendly reception that he received. And he added the picturesque words with which I shall conclude: "I felt as if I were walking with one of the Church Fathers who somehow wandered into Switzerland, and who counts among his ancestors the three Magi besides Wilhelm Tell..."


Telegram from Pope John Paul II
It is my particular desire, after manifesting my sincere sympathy at the sudden death of the esteemed Professor Hans Urs von Balthasar, to show the deceased, on the occasion of his burial services, a final honor through a personal word of commemoration.
All who knew the priest, von Balthasar, are shocked, and grieve over the loss of a great son of the Church, an outstanding man of theology and of the arts, who deserves a special place of honor in contemporary ecclesiastical and cultural life.
It was my wish to acknowledge and to honor in a solemn fashion the merits he earned through his long and tireless labors as a spiritual teacher and as an esteemed scholar by naming him to the dignity of the cardinalate in the last Consistory. We submit in humility to the judgment of God who now has called this faithful servant of the Church so unexpectedly into eternity.
Your participation at the solemn funeral services, very reverend Cardinal, will be an expression of the high esteem in which the person and the life work of this great priest and theologian are held by the Holy See. With all who commemorate him in sorrow and in gratitude, I beg for the dear departed eternal fulfillment in God's light and glory. Now that his earthly life is completed, may he, who was for many a spiritual leader on the way to faith, be granted the vision of God, face to face.
In spiritual union, I impart to all who participate by their prayers in this liturgy for the deceased, from my heart, my special apostolic blessing.
At the Vatican, June30, 1988,
John Paul II




THE INWARD TEMPLE: PRAYER IN THE ORTHODOX TRADITION by H.R.H PRINCESS ILEANA OF ROMANIA

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The Inward Temple. There is no need to weep much over the destruction of a church; after all, each of us, according to God's mercy, has or should have his own church—the heart; go in there and pray, as much as you have strength and time. If this church is not well made and is abandoned (without inward prayer), then the visible church will be of little benefit.
—Archbishop Barlaam to Abbess M., Russia's Catacomb Saints, p. 281




INTRODUCTION TO THE JESUS PRAYER
BY H.R.H PRINCESS ILEANA OF ROMANIA
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner.


I have often read the Jesus Prayer in prayer books and heard it in church, but my attention was drawn to it first some years ago in Romania. There in a small Monastery of Sâmbata, tucked away at the foot of the Carpathians in the heart of the deep forest, its little white church reflected in a crystal-clear mountain pond, I met a monk who practiced the "prayer of the heart". Profound peace and silence reigned at Sâmbata in those days; it was a place of rest and strength—I pray God it still is.

I have wandered far since I last saw Sâmbata, and all the while the Jesus Prayer lay as a pre­cious gift buried in my heart. It remained inactive until a few years ago, when I read The Way of a Pilgrim. Since then I have been seeking to practice it continually. At times I lapse; nonetheless, the prayer has opened unbelievable vistas within my heart and soul.

The Jesus Prayer, or the Prayer of the Heart, centers on the Holy Name itself. It may be said in its entirety: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner;" it may be changed to "us sinners" or to other persons named, or it may be shortened. The power lies in the name of Jesus; thus "Jesus," alone, may fulfill the whole need of the one who prays.

The Prayer goes back to the New Testament and has had a long, traditional use. The method of contemplation based upon the Holy Name is attributed to St. Simeon, called the "New Theologian" (949-1022). When he was 14 years old, St. Simeon had a vision of heavenly light in which he seemed to be separated from his body. Amazed, and overcome with an overpowering joy, he felt a consuming humility, and cried, borrowing the Publican's prayer (Luke 18:13), "Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me." Long after the vision had disappeared, the great joy returned to St. Simeon each time he repeated the prayer; and he taught his disciples to worship likewise. The prayer evolved into its expanded form: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." In this guise it has come down to us from generation to generation of pious monks and laymen.

The invocation of the Holy Name is not peculiar to the Orthodox Church but is used by Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and Protestants, though to a lesser degree. On Mount Sinai and Athos the monks worked out a whole system of contemplation based upon this simple prayer, practiced in complete silence. These monks came to be known as "Quietists" (in Greek: "Hesychasts").

St. Gregory Palamas (1296-1359), the last of the great Church Fathers, became the exponent of the Hesychasts. He won, after a long drawn out battle, an irrefutable place for the Jesus Prayer and the Quietists within the Church. In the 18th century when tsardom hampered monasticism in Russia, and the Turks crushed Orthodoxy in Greece, the Neamtzu monastery in Moldavia (Romania) became one of the great centers for the Jesus Prayer.

The Prayer is held to be so outstandingly spiritual because it is focused wholly on Jesus: all thoughts, striving, hope, faith and love are outpoured in devotion to God the Son. It fulfills two basic injunctions of the New Testament. In one, Jesus said: "I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you. Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full" (John 16: 23, 24). In the other precept we find St. Paul's injunction to pray without ceasing, (1. Thess. 5:17). Further, it follows Jesus' instructions upon how to pray (which He gave at the same time He taught His followers the Lord's Prayer): "When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly" (Matt. 6:6).

And Jesus taught that all impetus, good and bad, originates in men's hearts. "A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh" (Luke 6:45).

Upon these and many other precepts of the New Testament as well as the Old, the Holy Fathers, even before St. Simeon, based their fervent and simple prayer. They developed a method of contemplation in which unceasing prayer became as natural as breathing, following the rhythmic cadence of the heart beat.

All roads that lead to God are beset with pitfalls because the enemy (Satan) ever lies in wait to trip us up. He naturally attacks most assiduously when we are bent on finding our way to salvation, for that is what he most strives to hinder. In mystical prayer the temptations we encounter exceed all others in danger; because our thoughts are on a higher level, the allurements are proportionally subtler. Someone said that "mysticism started in mist and ended in schism"; this cynical remark, spoken by an unbeliever, has a certain truth in it. Mysticism is of real spiritual value only when it is practiced with absolute sobriety.

At one time a controversy arose concerning certain Quietists who fell into excessive acts of piety and fasting because they lost the sense of moderation upon which our Church lays so great a value. We need not dwell upon misuses of the Jesus Prayer, except to realize that all exaggerations are harmful and that we should at all times use self-restraint. "Practice of the Jesus Prayer is the traditional fulfillment of the injunction of the Apostle Paul to 'pray always:' it has nothing to do with the mysticism which is the heritage of pagan ancestry."

The Orthodox Church is full of deep mystic life which she guards and encompasses with the strength of her traditional rules; thus her mystics seldom go astray. "The 'ascetical life' is a life in which 'acquired' virtues, i.e. virtues resulting from a personal effort, only accompanied by that general grace which God grants to every good will, prevail. The 'mystical life' is a life in which the gifts of the Holy Spirit are predominant over human efforts, and in which 'infused' virtues are predominant over the 'acquired' ones; the soul has become more passive than active. Let us use a classical com­parison. Between the ascetic life, that is, the life in which human action predominates, and the mystical life, that is, the life in which God's action predominates, there is the same difference as between rowing a boat and sailing it; the oar is the ascetic effort, the sail is the mystical passivity which is unfurled to catch the divine wind." The Jesus Prayer is the core of mystical prayer, and it can be used by anyone, at any time. There is nothing mysterious about this (let us not confuse "mysterious" with "mystic"). We start by following the precepts and examples frequently given by our Lord. First, go aside into a quiet place: "Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest awhile" (Mark 6:31); "Study to be quiet" (I. Thess. 4: 11); then pray in secret—alone and in silence.

The phrases "to pray in secret, alone and in silence" need, I feel, a little expanding. "Secret" should be understood as it is used in the Bible: for instance, Jesus tells us to do our charity secretly-not letting the left hand know what the right one does. We should not parade our devotions, nor boast about them. "Alone" means to separate ourselves from our immediate surroundings and disturbing influences. As a matter of fact, never are we in so much company as when we pray". . . seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses. . ." (Hebrews 12:1). The witnesses are all those who pray: Angels, Archangels, saints and sinners, the living and the dead. It is in prayer, especially the Jesus Prayer, that we become keenly aware of belonging to the living body of Christ. In "silence" implies that we do not speak our prayer audibly. We do not even meditate on the words; we use them only to reach beyond them to the essence itself.

In our busy lives this is not easy, yet it can be done-we can each of us find a few minutes in which to use a prayer consisting of only a few words, or even only one. This prayer should be repeated quietly, unhurriedly, thoughtfully. Each thought should be concentrated on Jesus, forgetting all else, both joys and sorrows. Any stray thought, however good or pious, can become an obstacle.

When you embrace a dear one you do not stop to meditate how and why you love—you just love wholeheartedly. It is the same when spiritually we grasp Jesus the Christ to our heart. If we pay heed to the depth and quality of our love, it means that we are preoccupied with our own reactions, rather than giving ourselves unreservedly to Jesus —holding nothing back. Think the prayer as you breathe in and out; calm both mind and body, using as rhythm the heartbeat. Do not search for words, but go on repeating the Prayer, or Jesus' name alone, in love and adoration. That is ALL! Strange—in this little there is more than all!

It is good to have regular hours for prayer and to retire whenever possible to the same room or place, possibly before an icon. The icon is loaded with the objective presence of the One depicted, and thus greatly assists our invocation. Orthodox monks and nuns find that to use a rosary helps to keep the attention fixed. Or you may find it best quietly to close your eyes—focusing them inward.

The Jesus Prayer can be used for worship and petition; as intercession, invocation, adoration, and as thanksgiving. It is a means by which we lay all that is in our hearts, both for God and man, at the feet of Jesus. It is a means of communion with God and with all those who pray. The fact that we can train our hearts to go on praying even when we sleep, keeps us uninterruptedly within the community of prayer. This is no fanciful statement; many have experienced this life-giving fact. We cannot, of course, attain this continuity of prayer all at once, but it is achievable; for all that is worthwhile we must ". . . run with patience the race that is set before us . . ." (Hebrews 12:1).

I had a most striking proof of uninterrupted communion with all those who pray when I lately underwent surgery. I lay long under anesthesia. "Jesus" had been my last conscious thought, and the first word on my lips as I awoke. It was marvelous beyond words to find that although I knew nothing of what was happening to my body I never lost cognizance of being prayed-for and of praying myself. After such an experience one no longer wonders that there are great souls who devote their lives exclusively to prayer.

Prayer has always been of very real importance to me, and the habit formed in early childhood of morning and evening prayer has never left me; but in the practice of the Jesus Prayer I am but a be­ginner. I would, nonetheless, like to awaken interest in this prayer because, even if I have only touched the hem of a heavenly garment, I have touched it—and the joy is so great I would share it with others. It is not every man's way of prayer; you may not find in it the same joy that I find, for your way may be quite a different one—yet equally bountiful.

In fear and joy, in loneliness and companionship, it is ever with me. Not only in the silence of daily devotions, but at all times and in all places. It transforms, for me, frowns into smiles; it beautifies, as if a film had been washed off an old picture so that the colors appear clear and bright, like nature on a warm spring day after a shower. Even despair has become attenuated and repentance has achieved its purpose.

When I arise in the morning, it starts me joyfully upon a new day. When I travel by air, land, or sea, it sings within my breast. When I stand upon a platform and face my listeners, it beats encouragement. When I gather my children around me, it murmurs a blessing. And at the end of a weary day, when I lay me down to rest, I give my heart over to Jesus: "(Lord) into thy hands I commend my spirit". I sleep—but my heart as it beats prays on: "JESUS".

MAY I EARNESTLY RECOMMEND A POST IN "IMAGO DEI" BY AIDAN HART, WELL KNOWN ORTHODOX ICONOGRAPHER, CALLED, "DIVERSITY WITHIN ICONOGRAPHY - AN ARTISTIC PENTECOST."   IMAGO DEI IS A NEW BLOG BY A MEMBER OF MY COMMUNITY WHO IS STUDYING AT BLACKFRIARS, OXFORD.   HE IS ALSO A VERY TALENTED ICONOGRAPHER AND A PUPIL OF AIDAN HART.   READ THIS POST - YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED.






CHRISTIAN THEMES IN C.S. LEWIS

THE INWARD TEMPLE 2 - ABBOT ANDRE LOUF ON PRAYER OF THE HEART IN MONASTIC TRADITION

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PRAYING-IS IT ON NOWADAYS?
We know so very little about praying. It is a mystery which, we sus¬pect, must lie secluded somewhere deep in the recesses of the heart. Like other mysteries of human life : the birth of a new being, the love that burgeons and comes to flower, the ordeal that has its climax in death, and what follows upon death. All this evokes mixed feelings in a man. Longing alternates with fear, and love with awe. Until these values are turned into a personal value, unless they have been assimilated and so become a personal acquisition, the individual remains a self divided. He feels, simultaneously, impulse and counter-impulse. He is attracted and he is repelled.

It always has been difficult, of course, to write about prayer¬more so today than ever before. Until a man has accepted prayer as the mysterious and yet deepest centre of his being, it must always be hard for him to utter on the subject. He may enthuse; but his words will have a spurious and hollow ring. Or he may speak critic¬ally, even mordantly, of prayer; but the very vehemence of his reaction will betray the hidden need, aching like an incurable wound inside him.

That dialectic is a typical mark of the Church, in our time. If some are abandoning prayer, as many others are seeking to enquire and learn about it. This situation is an inevitable and even a healthy one. It means, primarily, two things : first, that we still lack the ability to pray. Second, that at long last we are aware of the fact.

One of the Fathers-a monk of the very early period-confronted his pupils with a hard question which they all attempted to answer. When it came to the turn of the last one to speak, he said : ‘I don’t know’. The monk commended him for it. He had made the right answer .

We try so often, do we not, to find an easy solution to the ques¬tions with which life is continually confronting us. To save face or quieten conscience we come up with something or other-but it is not the right answer at all. We are satisfied too quickly. The dis¬ciple of that old monk spoke the truth : he did not know and was humble enough to admit his ignorance. The proper response was lowly awe in face of the mystery. So too for us: the first and most fundamental truth about prayer is to know that we are unable to pray. ‘Lord, teach us how to pray’ (Luke 11:1).

Crisis

In time past-and not so very long ago at that-this was not so obvious. We used to feel a certain assurance. In the Church as well. The Church’s structures formed a solid edifice. There was nothing ambiguous about the rules and injunctions. Sometimes we felt we were well rid of the need to do our own thinking. The thinking was done for us. But in recent years we have seen a definite process of evolution in our society. Even the Church has been due for a face¬lift. The second Vatican Council set people’s minds in a whirl. Aggiornamento, experimentation, renewal, the words have a familiar ring to every ear. Instead of living out their Christianity in strictly personal terms, people now are looking for ways of giving more prominence to the communal aspect. Helping one’s neighbour-the fact of our common humanity-is the centre of attention. And prayer-what purpose does that serve? And can we still pray?

People have always wondered about prayer; and invariably, when they thought they had the answer, it has turned out to be in¬adequate. The main question used to be : ‘What is prayer?’ But now, all of a sudden, we no longer know whether we are still praying. We used to know that, at least. There was no doubt about praying, as such. Prayer was then one practice, one exercise, among the rest, prescribed and sometimes dished up according to rule, like other spiritual exercises. There were prayer-methods in plenty. People tried to be faithful, often with real openheartedness, to what was called with more or less emphasis on the possessive pronoun their meditation. And they would talk about prayer succeeding or, con¬versely, being a failure. Whatever it turned out to be-it must surely, on occasion, have been authentic prayer-the vocabulary of prayer at that time had a very triumphalist complexion. Prayer ap¬peared to be an exercise in which, besides grace, a lot of human ingenuity and resource were called for.

But nowadays everything has suddenly become quite different : no longer are we able to say whether we are still engaged in prayer or even whether we still believe in the possibility of prayer. In the old days prayer may have been far too easy; now it has all of a sudden become unspeakably difficult. Was it prayer at all, then? And how or where are we to pray now?

Was it in fact prayer? Most of us do not know what to reply to such a question. The set phrases, methods, instructions (including the rubrics attached to every conceivable form of prayer) that were in vogue some thirty years ago have fallen into disuse, are ignored or at any rate have been fundamentally altered, in certain cases completely replaced, even, by something else. Prayers are no longer reeled off. There is a prevailing attitude of distrust towards set prayers ‘tacked on from outside’ and towards the formalism they may engender. But people have come to be equally afraid of in¬terior prayer, so called; and most of them no longer have any time for it. Those who do find the time are for the most part unable to achieve an interior peace and quiet.

As a taciturn and withdrawn temperament might be supposed to assist the process of acquiring and maintaining such tranquillity, the question still arises-tinged indeed with suspicion and sometimes with irony-as to what is in fact achieved by the resolve to pray. The cold walls of our own total seclusion? The storms that rage within a frustrated mind and heart? The unattainable object of wants and desires, projected into infinitude, yes, and into heaven itself? A meagre consolation for having lost the courage to endure and cope with the sober realities of everyday life as an ordinary average human being? A cheap gesture of resignation because every¬thing and everybody lay too heavy a charge upon us? Is prayer, then, a flight into unreality, into dream, illusion, romanticism? The truth is, we are at our wits’ end. We have lost the scent of prayer altogether. We are caught in the blind alley of an illusion. Many of us have touched zero-point.

Thank God! For now we can make a new start. That zero-point can mean a reversal, a turn of the tide. For this is the saving grace of our time, in the Church of today : that we are now at our wits’ end. That the props have suddenly collapsed. That now at last we can see how little of the facade remains or indeed was ever there at all. And that now the Lord can build everything up again, from scratch. There has come down to us from one of the early Fathers of the Church a profound saying : ‘Prayer is as yet imperfect where the monk continues to be conscious of it and knows that he is at prayer.” One thing is sure : few venture to think they have this knowledge. And that in itself is a sign of grace.

The hunger for prayer
Here then, is the paradox of a crisis which could yet prove to be a fruitful one. Although the practice of prayer in its various forms may be in decline, never was the hunger for prayer greater than it is now, more especially among the young.

The great cultural changes we are living through today have sparked off something in many people. But what? For the most part they do not even know themselves. They feel an impulse, a hunger for an inner experience. It is a driving force within them. They cannot just dig in and do nothing. They have to make some dis¬covery. But of what? Could drugs be the answer? A freer approach to sex-will that liberate them? They are giving it a try; but the sheer monotony of it soon serves to demonstrate how hollow all this is. It is like the fate of the mayfly, who briefly glimpses the daylight and then dies. But the hunger persists-an unsatisfied and ever more insistent hunger.

It is the youngsters in particular who feel this. Often enough, their way of expressing this impulse, this drive, is to take themselves off to foreign parts. We can no longer provide them with the answer. At any rate, that is what they think. One comes across them here, there and everywhere; and they are often easy to recognize. They go off to Taize, pitch their tent, join with the brothers quite spontaneously in prayer and open up their feelings and experiences to one another. For an experience, that they will have. And to find it they will put a great deal behind them, will journey on from one experience to another. Forgetting what is behind, they press on ... and on.

Here and there in this world some corners are left where prayer fills the whole atmosphere, as it were. There are still some people for whom praying is like drawing breath. Anyone who has toiled under the blazing sun of Mt. Athos will never be able to forget the praying monks whom he is bound to have met there, their faces aflame and their glance like fire : penetrating, yet so infinitely gentle and utterly tender. Men who out of the profoundest depths of the self, are outgoing towards everything and everybody, who are able to discover the inner fire in people and things-the ‘hidden heart of things’ (Isaac the Syrian)-who expose their deepest core in measureless love and understanding.

Besides the solitaries who pray, you can also find groups who pray together. In Russia and Romania the night offices are crowded, the churches packed still today with young and old together.

The hunger for prayer sometimes sends these seekers out to the Far East. At this very moment hundreds of young people from the West are staying in the ashrams of India and Japan, with the idea of being initiated and directed by a guru in the techniques of meditation. In the western hemisphere too, techniques such as Zen and Yoga are claiming much attention. People will go to any trouble or expense to achieve control of mind and body. They want to be free, to free themselves to be the recipients of spiritual ex-perience. These techniques are really a form of ascesis, the purpose of which is to direct a person’s attention away from what is super¬ficial and unrewarding in order to concentrate it on the very heart of things. First and foremost, on the innermost, essential core of the person himself. He has to attain a degree of harmony with his deepest ‘I’ and at the same time with other human beings and with the world as a whole. Finally, with God as well. That is, at any rate for the believer. This experience is a genuine process of self¬realization. It is fairly unusual and is best likened to a rebirth. In Zen it is known as illumination. The experience also confers a certain interior contemplative vision in consequence of which every¬thing else is seen from a new standpoint.

This natural ascesis is undoubtedly of great value. It shows us to what extent body and mind affect each other. But is this actually prayer? Is not prayer something that God has given us in Jesus Christ? Certainly, Christian prayer is a more profound, more per¬vasive activity: calling upon the Father by the Son, thanking and extolling God the Father and praising Him together with Jesus. Body and mind, liberated by this exercise, come to spontaneous expression in it. Immediately, the individual has an inner sense of who it is to whom he has turned with his entire being. Words come to him of their own accord. Where they come from he does not know; but he recognizes them as his words. He may even just be silent. Silence, which is not a lack of words but transcends them, surpasses them, is a new form of dialogue in which we know only that the whole person is present. Presence in the most potent sense of the word, a being present in love that really does yield a know¬ledge of the other. And suddenly, out of the silence may arise at last a cry prompted in us by the Spirit. Our heart uncloses to exclaim Abba, Father !


PRAYING-BUT WITH WHAT?
The main reason why prayer (and talking about prayer) seems so difficult nowadays is that we simply do not know what we are to pray with. Where in our body are we to locate the organ of prayer? Our lips and our mouth recite prayers, our intellect practises re¬flection and meditation, our heart and mind are lifted up to God. With this language we are familiar; but what is it we intend to con¬vey by these concepts? Lips, mouth, intellect, heart and soul? What do we actually pray with?

The organ of prayer: our heart
Each person has been given by the creator an organ primarily designed to get him praying. In the creation story we read how God made man by breathing into him his living spirit (Gen. 2:7) and¬St. Paul goes on-man became a living soul (I Cor. 15:45). Adam was the prefiguration of Him who should come : Jesus, the second Adam, after whose image the first man had been created. This means that being in relation with the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is a fundamental part of our nature. The living spirit of God is the fount of prayer in us.

In the course of the centuries this organ has acquired very diverse names in various cultures and languages; but in fact they all signify the same thing. Let us agree to call it by the oldest name it has ever had-a name that in the Bible occupies a central place : the heart. In the Old Testament the heart denotes the inward man. The New Testament builds on this notion and perfects it.
The Lord it is who probes the heart and loins (Jer. 11:20), nothing is hidden from Him : Lord ‘you examine me and know me, you know if I am standing or sitting ... God, examine me and know my heart, probe me and know my thoughts’ (Ps. 139). The heart is what we yearn with : God grants the desire of the heart (Ps. 20:4). According to the Bible even a man’s character is local¬ized in this centre : out of the heart proceed thoughts, sins, good and bad inclinations : envy and malice, joy, peace and pity. The heart may also express the whole person, for instance, in Joshua’s injunc¬tion to the Israelites regarding the occupation of the promised land ‘... take great care to practise the commandments and the Law which Moses the servant of Yahweh gave you : love Yahweh your God, follow his paths always, keep his commandments, be loyal to him and serve him with all your heart and soul’ (Josh. 22:5).

But a part of the chosen people do not heed this call and turn their heart away from the Lord : ‘... this people approaches me only in words, honours me only with lip-service while its heart is far from me’ (Isa. 29:13). The Israelites have hardened their hearts (Ezek. 2:14). Time after time God raises up prophets who will per¬sist in speaking of this apostasy : ‘But now, now-it is Yahweh who speaks-come back to me with all your heart, fasting, weeping, mourning. Let your hearts be broken, not your garments torn’ (Joel 2:12), for the Lord cannot countenance such disloyalty. He loves Israel with an everlasting love, is a jealous God. And the prophets show us how even the heart of God is turned and his mercy (heart’s compassion) is aroused (cf. Hosea 11: 8). Never will His love desert His people : ‘I did forsake you for a brief moment, but with great love will I take you back. In excess of anger, for a moment I hid my face from you. But with everlasting love I have taken pity on you, says Yahweh, your redeemer!’ (Isa. 54: 7-8).

At the very moment when the Jewish people are in deepest misery-the Babylonian exile-the prophet Ezekiel announces a new covenant : ‘I shall pour clean water over you and you will be cleansed; I shall cleanse you of all your defilement and all your idols. I shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you; I shall remove the heart of stone from your bodies and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you ...’ (Ezek. 36:25-27).

Only a heart of flesh can really beat, can give life to the whole body. Only into such a heart can the Spirit make his entry; and the heart, at one time closed to the superabundance of grace, opens up again to His loving design : his Will, the Word, the Spirit.

He of whom Moses wrote in the Law-and the prophets also¬Jesus, the son of Joseph of Nazareth, brought us this New Covenant. God Himself has intervened to open up the human heart and make it once more receptive to His Word (Acts 16:14). Ascended now into heaven, He has sent us another Paraclete (‘Advocate’: John 14:16), who consoles, strengthens and encourages, the Anointing who teaches us everything (I John 2:27), the Holy Spirit who will remind us of all that Jesus has said to us (John 14: 26). ‘If your lips confess that Jesus is Lord and if you believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, then you will be saved’ (Rom. 10:9). Heart and lips, inward surrender and outward confession, beat here to one and the same rhythm. And here, eventually, prayer is born.

The beatitudes sum up in a few sentences the spiritual Law of the New Covenant : ‘How happy are the poor in spirit; ... happy those who mourn; ... happy the pure in heart : they shall see God’ (Matt. 5:3-12). When nothing any longer clouds and darkens the heart, it can be wholly opened to the Light; for God is Love and God is Light.

It will perhaps be clear by now that the heart, in the ancient sense of the word, is not the discursive intelligence with which we reason, nor the ‘feelings’ with which we respond to another person, nor yet the superficial emotion we call sentimentality. The heart is something that lies much deeper within us, the innermost core of our being, the root of our existence or, conversely, our summit, what the French mystics call ‘the very peak of the soul’ (‘la fine pointe de fame’ or ‘la cime de 1’esprit’). In our everyday life our heart is usually concealed. It hardly reaches the surface of our consciousness. We much prefer to stay put in our outward senses, in our impressions and feelings, in all that attracts -or repels us. And should we opt to live at a deeper level of our personal being, then we usually land up in abstraction : we reflect, we combine, we compare, we draw logical conclusions. But all this time our heart will be asleep-not beating yet to the rhythm of the Spirit.

Jesus was often reprimanding us: our hearts are blind, obdurate and closed (Mark 8:17). They are sluggish and slow (Luke 24:25), full of darkness, weighed down with pleasure and sorrows (Matt. 13:15). Our hearts must be circumcised. ‘Circumcise your heart then, to love the Lord your God and serve Him with all your heart and your soul’ (Deut. 10: 12-22). Then love of God and of our neighbour will be the fruit, for a sound heart produces good fruit (Matt. 7:17). It is a main enterprise for every individual to find the way back to his heart. He is an explorer, moving into that unknown, inner region. He is a pilgrim in search of his heart, of his deepest being. Everyone carries within him-to repeat the marvellous ex¬pression used by St. Peter in his first letter-’the hidden man of the heart’ (3:4). That ‘man’ is our deepest and most real being : he is who and what we are. There God meets us; and it is only from there that we in our turn can encounter people. There God addresses us; and from there we too are able to address people. There we receive from Him a new and as yet unfamiliar name, which He alone knows and which will be our name for ever in his Love; and only thence are we at length able to name another’s name, in the selfsame Love.
But so far we have not reached that point. We are only on the road towards our heart. Still, the marvellous world that awaits us there makes taking the greatest trouble worthwhile.

In a state of prayer
For our heart is already in a state of prayer. We received prayer along with grace, in our baptism. The state of grace, as we call it, at the level of the heart, actually signifies a state of prayer. From then on, in the profoundest depths of the self, we have a continuing contact with God. God’s Holy Spirit has taken us over, has assumed complete possession of us; he has become breath of our breath and Spirit of our spirit. He takes our heart in tow and turns it towards God. He is the Spirit, Paul says, who speaks without ceasing to our spirit and testifies to the fact that we are children of God. All the time, in fact, the Spirit is calling within us and He prays, Abba¬Father, with supplications and sighs that cannot be put into words but never for an instant cease within our hearts (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6).

This state of prayer within us is something we always carry about, like a hidden treasure of which we are not consciously aware-or hardly so. Somewhere our heart is going full pelt, but we do not feel it. We are deaf to our praying heart, love’s savour escapes us, we fail to see the light in which we live.
For our heart, our true heart, is asleep; and it has to be woken up, gradually-through the course of a whole lifetime. So it is not really hard to pray. It was given us long since. But very seldom are we conscious of our own prayer. Every technique of prayer is attuned to that purpose. We have to become conscious of what we have already received, must learn to feel, to distinguish it in the full and peaceful assurance of the Spirit, this prayer rooted and operative somewhere deep inside us. It must be brought to the sur¬face of our consciousness. Little by little it will saturate and cap¬tivate our faculties, mind and soul and body. Our psyche and even our body must learn to answer to the rhythm of this prayer, be stirred to prayer from within, be incited to prayer, as dry wood is set ablaze. One of the Fathers puts it as tersely as this : ‘The monk’s ascesis : to set wood ablaze.”

Prayer then, is nothing other than that unconscious state of prayer which in the course of time has become completely conscious. Prayer is the abundantia cordis, the abundance of the heart, as the saying goes in the Gospels : ‘For a man’s words flow out of what fills his heart’ (Matt. 12:34; Luke 6:45). Prayer is a heart that overflows with joy, thanksgiving, gratitude and praise. It is the abundance of a heart that is truly awake.

Waking up
One condition is therefore that our heart comes awake; for as long as it remains asleep, our search for the organ of prayer in ourselves will be in vain. We can try to come at it in various ways; but the result will often be disconcerting. Some will put most re¬liance on their imagination; but there is a considerable risk of their ending up distracted and full of daydreams. Others may try through their religious feeling, but soon get bogged down in sentimentality. Yet others resort more to their intellect and try to arrive at clearer insights; but their prayer remains arid and cold and eventually ends up outside the sphere of their concrete living. Imagination, feeling and intellect are not of the Evil One. But they can only bear fruit when, much deeper within us, our heart comes to awakening and they, fed by the flame of this spiritual fire, themselves begin to glow.

Each and every method of prayer has but one objective : to find the heart and alert it. It must be a form of interior alertness, watch¬fulness. Jesus himself set ‘being awake’ and ‘praying’ side by side. The phrase ‘be awake and pray’ certainly comes from Jesus in per¬son (Matt. 26:41; Mark 13:33). Only profound and quiet concen¬tration can put us on the track of our heart and of the prayer within it.

All the time watchful and alert, therefore, we must first recover the way to our heart in order to free it and divest it of everything in which we have incapsulated it. With this in view we must mend our ways, come to our senses, get back to the true centre of our being as ‘person’, redire ad cor (Isa. 46:8), return to the heart, as people in ‘the Middle Ages liked to say. In the heart, mind and body meet, it is the central point of our being. Once back at that central point, we live at a deeper level, where we are at peace, in harmony with everything and everybody, and first and foremost with our own self. This ‘reversion’ is also ‘intro-version’, a turning inward to the self. It engenders a state of recollection and interiority. It pierces through to our deepest ‘I’, to the image of God in us. To that ontological centre where we are constantly springing from God’s creative hand and flowing back into His bosom. Praying teaches us to live from within, from the life within us. As was said of St. Bruno, every man of prayer has a cor profundum, a bottomless heart.’ The parable of the prodigal son has been interpreted by several of the Fathers in that sense (Luke 15:11-32). The younger son demands his share of the estate and leaves for a distant country, where he squanders his money on a life of debauchery. ‘When he had spent it all, that country experienced a severe famine and now he began to feel the pinch ... Then he came to his senses (literally : he turned in to his self) and said : “How many of my father’s paid servants have more food than they want.”‘ Pope Gregory the Great applies the passage to St. Benedict, the father of western monasticism, whose life as a monk he thus describes : ‘Had the prodigal son been with himself, whence then should he have returned to himself? Conversely, I might say of this venerable man (Benedict) that he dwelt with him¬self (habitare secum), for watching constantly over himself, he remained always in the presence of his Creator. He examined him¬self incessantly and did not allow his heart to divert its gaze to out¬ward things.” The passage shows us where St. Benedict’s tranquillity came from. He does not seek to escape in an activity that will keep him away from his true work, but keeps on turning to his heart.
There lies his true work : the battle with everything that would distract him from his sole Good. A twelfth-century Carthusian monk could say, therefore : Nothing makes the monk wearier than not working (Nihil laboriosius est quam non laborare)4 and so continuing always free for prayer, finding his rest in Jesus and in his Word. Again, the same Carthusian says : in this way he comes to be quietus Christo, still and tranquil before Christ. This was Benedict’s sole care also : to keep his heart free beneath the gaze of Him who offers both support and love.

To this ascesis-and especially the practice of keeping vigil-as a technique of prayer we shall return later on. Here we shall content ourselves with emphasizing that prayer has already been given us in our heart, albeit in a secret way. One cannot help but recall here the image of the treasure in the field. The application of it to prayer has indeed been made. A twelfth-century Cistercian, Guerric d’Igny, compares the heart to a field. The field of the heart must be dug over : ‘O what precious store of good works, what a wealth of spiritual fruits are hidden in the field of a man’s body and how much more, even, in his heart, if he will but dig and delve it. In so saying I do not mean to affirm with Plato that prior to its dwelling in this body, the soul already had knowledge which having been utterly forgotten and covered beneath a weight of sins is then laid bare by spiritual study (disciplina) and ascesis (labor). But I mean that reason and intelligence, which are peculiar to man, can when as¬sisted by grace become the source of all good works. If thus you will turn in your heart, keeping your body under control, do not despair of finding therein treasures of sufficient worth’ (Sermon 1 for Epi¬phany). There is a treasure, then, hidden in the field of our heart; and like the merchant of the gospel story we must sell all that we have in order to possess that field and extract the treasure from it. From time to time God allows us a glimpse of that treasure. Much effort will be needed to till the field. Our business here is not with exploiting the earth, entrusted by the Creator to the first man-a mandate that is certainly still in force. But still the sweat of our brow is required for exploiting the inner man and cultivating this fallow soil. Yet our toil will be rewarded-and more than that this spiritual labour is itself a joy and gives us true peace.

Anyone whose heart has thus been freed will be able to listen in to it: the heart is at prayer, even without our knowing it. We can surprise our heart, as it were, in the very act of prayer. The spirit of Jesus anticipates us, is stammering our prayer before us. To give ourselves over to this prayer we have to yield ourselves and stop throwing up a barrier between our heart and our ‘I’. We are not our ‘persona’, the image that we take so much trouble to create. Only when we have dropped this mask in the presence of God will we go on to uncover our real ‘I’. And we shall stare in astonishment then; for could we ever have suspected what we were really like and what God had chosen for us? How fine, how beautiful, our true likeness is, which God carries with Him all the time and which He so much longs to show us ! Out of love He has had respect for what we willed and has chosen to wait. This likeness can only be the likeness to his Son, who in advance of us lived out a true son¬ship and was obedient to the Father’s will, right up to death on the cross. From His prayer, from His striving, living and dying, we learn how to pray.

Little by little we must advance on the road to prayer. The tech¬nique is always the same. To rid our heart of its surrounding dross; to listen to it where it is already at prayer; to yield ourselves to that prayer until the Spirit’s prayer becomes our own.
As a, monk of the Byzantine period once taught : ‘Anyone who attends carefully to his heart, letting no other notions and fantasies get in, will soon observe how in the nature of things his heart engenders light. Just as coals are set ablaze and the candle is kindled by the fire, so God sets our heart aflame for contemplation, He who since our baptism has made our heart His dwelling-place.”
Another monk of that period used a different metaphor to say the same thing. He was to an extraordinary degree a man of prayer, someone absolutely carried away by prayer, which was his constant occupation. He was asked how he had reached that state. He replied that he found it hard to explain. ‘Looking back,’ he said, ‘my im¬pression is that for many, many years I was carrying prayer within my heart, but did not know it at the time. It was like a spring, but one covered by a stone. Then at a certain moment Jesus took the stone away. At that the spring began to flow and has been flowing ever since.’
THE POPE TAKES POSSESSION OF THE (BENEDICTINE) BASILICA OF ST PAUL'S AS BISHOP OF ROME. (full ceremony)


THE SPIRIT OF ORTHODOXY by H.R.H. Princess Ileana of Romania

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H. R. H. Princess Ileana of Romania was born in Bucharest on January 7, 1909, the youngest daughter of King Ferdinand and Queen Marie. She is a great-granddaughter of Queen Victoria, and also of Czar Alexander II of Russia, who freed the serfs. In 1931 she married Archduke Anton of Austria, and is the mother of six children.

A young girl during the First World War, the Princess saw suffering at first hand, grew up with a deep concern for the welfare of the people, became a Red Cross nurse in the last war when she set up and supervised her own hospital in Romania. In 1950, after her exile from her own country and two years in South America, she came to the United States. She has lectured extensively in this country and is the author of two books: I LIVE AGAIN, her memoirs, and a forthcoming volume, THE HOSPITAL OF THE QUEEN'S HEART.

She became an Orthodox nun in the 1960's and, as Mother Alexandra, became Abbess of the Transfiguration Monastery in Portland, Pennsylvania, and died in 1991.




HAVING been baptized into and brought up in the Eastern Orthodox Church, I have taken it for granted all my life. It is only lately that I was confronted with the question: "What is Orthodoxy? What do the Orthodox believe?" I have found myself being looked at and questioned with the misgiving and curiosity shown some exotic creature, not quite the same as other people.

I have not been offended by this curiosity; instead I have become equally curious to find out why so little is known about my Church which represents a greater part of Eastern Europe and a good part of Western Asia, as well as a significant number of Americans. I have found it imperative to seek out the truths in the churches of the East and West, and see for myself where the difference lies, and why they have grown such strangers to each other.

The Orthodox Church goes back to the very beginning of Christianity, evolving according to the needs and mentality of the peoples it united within its fold. At first, there was no Eastern or Western Church, but only one Catholic (universal and complete) and Orthodox (right-thinking) Church, which, as a body, kept the faith pure, and defended Christendom as a whole from heresies.

Arianism was condemned in the first of the seven Ecumenical Councils, held at Nicaea in 325. This Council was attended by 318 bishops from all parts of the then Christian world. The first seven articles of the Nicene Creed were formed at this time, and twenty canons were passed governing the rights and conduct of bishops and metropolitans. The last five articles of the Creed were formed at the second Council in the year 381 in Constantinople. This Council consisted of 150 bishops, all from the Eastern part of Europe; nonetheless, its decisions were fully accepted by the Western bishops. The other five councils of the undivided Church dealt with further heresies, and their rulings were accepted by East and West alike.

In the first centuries, there were five great Patriarchates—Alexandria, Jerusalem, Antioch, Rome and Constantinople. By degrees, two of them became the more important: Rome, because it was the imperial city and because its patriarch claimed direct apostolic descent from St. Peter, and Constantinople, which under the Emperor Constantine, became the new imperial city, the seat of government for the Roman Empire. When the Emperor left Rome for Constantinople, his authority gradually passed to the Bishop of Rome, who now alone stood for order and tradition in the western part of the empire abandoned to the barbarians from the North. Constantinople, meanwhile, quite naturally became the great center of the East. These two great Sees were in perfect accord in the fighting down of heresies and in compiling the Nicene Creed, to which to this day both firmly adhere, as they do to the apostolic hierarchy and all major dogmas of faith. Their estrangement came from political rather than from dogmatic differences, though these were later used as arguments. The most important of the dogmatic discussions centered around the Filioque in the Creed. (The Western Church says: "We believe in the Holy Ghost who proceeds from the Father and the Son . . .", while the Eastern Church says: ". . . proceeds from the Father, and is worshipped with the Father and the Son.")

The schism did not come about suddenly or with especial violence, although there was much regrettable and unChristian behavior on both sides. In fact, no one can actually put a date to the schism. Some place it in 1054; others 400 years later in 1439, after the abortive conference of Florence. It is perhaps one of the major catastrophes of Christianity that East and West fell apart. The advance of the great Moslem empire was partly responsible for this. For nearly 500 years it claimed Eastern Europe for its own, engulfing millions of souls and parting them effectively from their Western brothers.

This is a very brief outline of the historical facts. But the explanation of the breach is not to be found in history alone. Its causes lie much deeper, in the nature and mentality of East and West, and in the different interpretations each gave the same belief and creed.

It can never be sufficiently stressed that there never was disagreement on a point of faith; that neither Orthodox nor Roman Catholics considered the others heretics, but rather schismatics. A grave sin which each regrets to have seen the other fall into! Alas for Christianity, this sin was committed, and the great spiritual power of unity has been lost! Yet who can penetrate the ways and will of God, and why did each branch have to work out its separate way to salvation? Each accumulated its wisdom and knowledge according to the minds of different peoples; each became rich in a spirituality that goes deep into the nature of things, so that today both sides have stored great treasures, which, if joined together, may yet bring the world more peace and joy than we understand or can imagine.

We are now living in a time when cultures are being brought close together, meeting and interchanging thoughts and ideas. By the migration of people, through wars and oppression, the Eastern Church has moved westward and is mingling with churches of all denominations. No more are Orthodox Churches in America and Europe just chapels serving small groups of Russians, Serbs, Greeks, Romanians, and others; they have become a part of American life. Nearly five million Americans now belong to this confession, which has its own churches, schools and seminaries. Orthodoxy is no longer a vague and distant faith of Oriental peoples, but is an integral part of American life today. What, then, does it stand for?

It stands for Christianity unimpaired, and transmitted unchanged to us through the Church's Holy Tradition. It teaches that there is only one church, and that that church is Orthodox and Catholic. It is believed to be firmly based upon the teachings of our Lord as transmitted by the first Apostles and through the Gospel. Because the creeds and even the Holy Scriptures came into being after the founding of the Church by Christ and the Apostles, "Holy Tradition" is venerated in the Church. Notwithstanding the fact that after the destruction of the Byzantine Empire, the Eastern Church fell into various national groups, the Tradition has remained unimpaired. Through hundreds of years of Ottoman and other persecution, the heads of the churches could meet but seldom to discuss points of dogma, yet all have kept the same exact faith and, although each group necessarily reads the Liturgy in its own tongue, the ceremony varies only slightly if at all.

This brings us to the importance of the Liturgy which is the whole life of the Church. Liturgy is the Eastern word for Mass or Eucharist. The rite focuses upon worship and it combines both praise and thanksgiving for our Lord's self-sacrifice. It depicts in various symbols the entire life of our Lord from birth to crucifixion and glorious resurrection. There is an intimacy in the relationship of the faithful and clergy and in the participation of all in the service, which is not apparent nor easily understandable to those accustomed to Western services. Although partaking of Holy Communion is not as frequent as in the Western Church, the congregation always takes a very real and spiritually active part in offering the Eucharistic sacrifice. The pomp and ceremony, the mystery, the closed altar doors, the glory of the hymns—far from intimidating and estranging the faithful, all these make them part of the Sacrament. The beauty, the music, the prayers, detach them from their mundane life; their intellect can be at peace. Because of this powerful mystical participation of all in the Liturgy the Orthodox confession is the same church, with the same ceremony, the same expression the world over, regardless of race, nationality or language.

The next important point is the extreme reverence given the Holy Scriptures. Both the Old and the New Testaments figure largely in the Orthodox daily life. Not only has their study been encouraged from earliest times, but even the illiterate have learned whole portions by heart. The Psalms are part of everyday prayers. The simplest peasant in the most isolated mountain valley in the Carpathians, Balkans or Caucasus is able to cite a Bible verse applicable to any situation in which he may find himself.

Because the Ottoman sovereignty over the Christian peoples of the East was expressed in both religious and national persecution, it followed quite naturally that faith and nationalism should become one and the same thing. Thus people and Church were in very truth united. National kings were anointed by the Church and were part of that Church. This union of Church and State, however, was not always an advantage, but the pros and cons of this point are too lengthy and weighty to be discussed adequately in this short account of Orthodoxy. The important thing is that Orthodoxy has survived Ottoman persecution, Czarism, and is even now surviving Communism. Although the various national groupings are at present a hindrance to concentrated Orthodox action, they have not impaired the Orthodox faith, and no member of any one group seeking the ministrations of the Church is out of communion with any other group. He can freely participate in the Holy Mysteries wherever he finds them.

The Orthodox Church does not speak of Sacraments, but of Holy Mysteries. It does not try to put them into cut-and-dried formulae but accepts them with gratitude and awe. The Easterner has a less inquisitive mind than the Westerner; his mind is more contemplative, less disciplined, but profounder than the Western mind. Where the latter wants definitions, clear intellectual understanding and perception, the former will seek the depths and is content with undefined contacts with the intangible. Perhaps because of long persecutions, he has been thrown more upon himself, and has had to go deeper into reality by himself. There has been less definition and therefore less divergency of opinion. When there have been revelations, their authenticity has not been judged by schooled contemporary minds, but has been held up for judgment by the Church's tradition. If such revelation was found to be in accord with that tradition, it was accepted. The Orthodox Church has been less eager than the Western churches to move with the times, for it feels that it holds the eternal verities. At the same time, it has remarkable adaptability and independence of movement with which to break with any custom when circumstances demand. For example, when Communist Serbia declared Christmas Day a working day so that church services could not be attended, Liturgies were read from midnight on, every two hours until morning, despite the fact that tradition long has ruled that only one Mass in twenty-four hours was to be said at the same altar. Yet, no individual feels that any authority can give him dispensation from the Church's traditional rules, such as that of fasting, which, for the Orthodox, is extremely severe. He feels that the Church's rules were divinely inspired when the Church was founded and no human has either the power or the right to change them or to add to them.

It is a very important factor in the discipline of the Orthodox Church, and largely constitutes its surviving power, that its principles are so deeply ingrained in the laity that the law of the Church is often stronger in them than in the clergy. For example, the laity will accept the Synod's decisions concerning recognition of other confessions, orders and communions with which it feels not competent to deal, but would never accept new dogmas or the doing away with old ones. And no Orthodox would conceive of changing religion for family reasons or because of a change of community, though we would be very tolerant of a change made from spiritual conviction.

There is a belief that, as the Western Church was founded by St. Peter and St. Paul, so the Eastern Church was founded by St. John. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that the Orthodox Church is greatly influenced by the Gospel and Epistles and the Revelations of St. John, and that of these, the spirituality and beauty of the fourth Gospel is its leading factor. The very term "Mystery" for "Sacrament" comes from St. John. An example of the Church's attitude is in the passage in St. John 3:1-21 which tells of our Lord's discussion of the spiritual rebirth of man with Nicodemus; even after Jesus' explanation Nicodemus does not understand. Jesus says: "Art thou a master of Israel and knowest not these things?" and then goes on to explain at length His nature and the way to salvation. The Orthodox Christian does not question but believes in the rebirth of man through the Holy Mysteries which the Church has guarded for him direct from our Lord.

These Holy Mysteries or Sacraments are seven in number—Baptism, Chrismation (equivalent to Western Confirmation), Communion, Penance, Holy Orders, Matrimony and Unction. Let us go over these seven Mysteries and explain the Orthodox catechism, known as "The Faith of the Saints."

A Holy Mystery or Sacrament "is a visible ritual performance through which the invisible saving power called God's grace bestows wonderful gifts upon the recipients."1

Since the word "grace" is so often misunderstood, I believe it is well before going further, to declare the Orthodox definition of the word: "God's grace is God's gift which the Father gives men through the Holy Spirit because of the merits of the Son."2

Baptism is the first Holy Mystery, and by it the baptized person is cleansed of all sin, original and personal, and as a newborn child of God, is incorporated into the Church of Christ.

This ceremony is performed by thrice-repeated total immersion in water, in the name of the Holy Trinity—of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. The three immersions represent death to sin against the Trinity, and the three risings mean the life in and to the Holy Trinity. The Church's authority for baptism comes direct from Christ, in His clear commandment to His disciples to teach and baptize all nations (Matt. 28:19), and also His stern warning: "Except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God." (John 3:5). (To the Orthodox, the death of an unbaptized child means its eventual exclusion from the Christian family on the day of the Last Judgment.) Baptism is also a sign of obedience to the Apostolic practice (Acts 10:44-48, 16:15 and I Cor. 1:16). Above all, it is right because of the love of Jesus who commanded: "Let the children come unto Me," and what Christian would not harken to this call?

Baptism is followed immediately by the Holy Chrismation, the second Holy Mystery, through which a baptized person is armed with strength and wisdom by the Holy Spirit. The priest anoints the forehead, breast, eyes, ears, cheeks, mouth, hands and feet with the Holy Chrism (oil) pronouncing the words: "The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Amen." These words are taken from II Cor. 1:21-22: "He who establisheth us with you in Christ, has anointed us in God who has also sealed us, and given us the earnest of the spirit in our hearts."

Chrismation is an extension of, and a sharing in the unction of our Lord with the Holy Ghost, accomplished by the Father. Therefore, the unction unites us not only to the Spirit, but to the Son.3

The holy oil is prepared and consecrated by the bishops, and its use is thus an equivalent to the laying-on of hands in Confirmation in the Western churches, the transmitting of the Holy Ghost. The Orthodox Church offers no theory about the manner of this transmission, but remembers "that God is a Spirit and must be worshipped in spirit and in truth (John 4:14), especially when we turn to the Person of the Holy Ghost." The Chrism is but the channel "of the invisible and spiritual unction which God pours into the hearts of men whenever and wherever He pleases."4

St. Paul says: "The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are His." (II Timothy 2:19). The Book of Revelation enumerates the servants of God "sealed" from all tribes. (Rev. 7:3-4).

St. Cyril of Jerusalem puts it this way: "Do not forget the Holy Ghost at the time of your illumination; He is ready to stamp your soul with His seal."

A monk of the Eastern Church writes: "The sealing by the Holy Ghost means therefore that the Spirit imprints on us the Father's likeness; that is, the Lord Jesus Himself. From that moment we do not belong any more to ourselves. We have become . . . the slaves and the soldiers of Christ and His sacrificial co-victims. The first Christians used the expression "to keep the seal" in the sense of remaining faithful."5

Once the new Christian has received the Holy Mysteries of Baptism and Chrismation, he is ready to accept the Holy Eucharist. The first two ceremonies are performed in the transcept of the church. Now the child is brought up to the altar by his godparent. He will now partake, as all faithful Christians do, of the true Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ in the visible form of bread and wine. From now on, this will be the central part of his spiritual life. Although there is no ruling about this, a child, after the first communion following his baptism, usually does not communicate until he is able to do so intelligently—around the age of seven, unless he is mortally ill.

Holy Communion, or the Eucharist, is the center of all Orthodox worship, and is prepared and used in the Divine Liturgy. "The aim of man's life is union with God and deification."6 Deification is not, of course, "a pantheistic identity, but is a sharing through grace of the divine life."7

"This participation takes man within the life of the three Divine Persons themselves, in the incessant circulation and overflowing of love which courses between the Father, the Son and the Spirit, and which expresses the very nature of God. . . . Union with God is the perfect fulfillment with the Kingdom, announced by the Gospel, and that love which sums up all the Law and the Prophets."8

The faithful seek this union through communion. "The Orthodox Church . . . believes that the Sacraments are not mere symbols of divine things, but that the gift of spiritual reality is attached to these signs perceptible by the senses . . . that is, in the Eucharistic mystery, the same grace is present nowadays that was once imparted in the Upper Room. There are two aspects to this: the mystical and the aesthetical. The mystical aspect consists in the fact that Sacramental grace is not the outcome of human effort but is bestowed objectively by our Lord. The aesthetical aspect consists in the fact that the Holy Mysteries bring forth their fruit in the . . . recipient only if that soul is assenting to, and is prepared for it. The Greek Fathers emphasized human freedom in the work of salvation."9 St. John Chrysostom writes: "We must first select good and then God adds what appertains to this office. He does not act antecedently to our will, so as not to destroy our liberty."10

"Clement of Alexandria coined the word "synergy" (cooperation) in order to express the action of these two co-joined energies: grace and human will. This term and idea . . . represents today the doctrine of the Orthodox Church on these matters."11 For this reason, the faithful feel that their active part in the Liturgy is essential, and preparation for making their communion is taken very seriously, preceded always by a day of fasting and by confession.

"Orthodoxy does not agree with the Latin doctrine of Transubstantiation, but believes that Christ who is offered in the mystery of the Holy Supper, is truly there present . . . Orthodoxy does not practice the cult of the consecrated elements outside the Liturgy."12 The Roman Church further makes a great point of difference in the actual moment that the mystery takes place. They fix it at the use by the priest of the words of Institution: "This is My Body . . . This is My Blood."—while the Orthodox say that "the sanctification of the Holy Gifts operates during the entire Liturgy, whose essential part consists in the words of institution of Our Lord following the invocation of the Holy Spirit, and the benediction of the elements ("epiklesis").13

Eucharistic grace fulfills the grace of Baptism and of Chrismation. In the Paschal mystery is found the Lord's Supper, the Passion and the Resurrection, yet the Eucharistic Sacrament is not an end in itself, but a means to spiritual reality greater than the sacraments themselves. Communicating with Christ, we communicate with all His members. "For we being many, are one bread and one body: for we are partakers of that one bread." The Eucharist is the life flow that courses through the whole body of Christ's Church. We do not absorb it; it absorbs us.

For man to be worthy of so great a love by which God gave His only begotten Son to save us from sin and perdition is almost superhuman. It could not be, had not our Lord instituted also the Mystery of Holy Penance when He told us to confess our sins to each other and gave His Apostles the power to remit sins. "Receive ye the Holy Spirit; whosoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them, and whosoever sins ye retain, they are retained." (John 20:22-23)

Every sin we commit against man, we commit against God, too. There is no sin that does not hurt God. It is not sufficient to confess and make retribution to the person injured, but we should seek also to confess to a priest, successor to the Holy Apostles, who have spiritually inherited the power to forgive sins. There are sins for which there appears, to human understanding, to be no forgiveness. Yet we know of many instances of great sinners who, through true repentance had their sins remitted, and have become great saints.

The Church urges frequent confession, especially before Holy Communion and during illness, so that the soul may ever be ready to stand before the Judgment Seat. In no way is this a control of the faithful's lives by the priesthood. The priest is only the channel through which men gain God's forgiveness. One does not confess to the priest as a person, but to God through the priest. The priest is there to help the penitent formulate his sin and to be the visible transmitter of God's grace of forgiveness. He is the vehicle which Christ instituted for this purpose.

Here, as in all the other Mysteries, the Orthodox Church teaches that "God is not bound to the Sacraments; there is 'One greater than the Temple' (Matt. 12:6) and greater than the Holy Mysteries."14 That is to say, that should death befall a person where he cannot partake of any of the Mysteries, God may yet reach him if his soul is prepared by love and repentance. "Unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out." (Rom. 11:33) When He so wishes it, God does not need the visible ritual performance to bestow His gifts.

The Orthodox Church does not have the dogma of Purgatory. "According to the Orthodox Church, death ends man's probation and immediately after death he is judged. His fate in eternity is determined by his whole moral state at the moment of death."15 "We believe that the souls of the departed are in repose or torment as each one wrought, for immediately after the separation from the body, they are pronounced either for bliss or for suffering and sorrow, yet we confess that neither the joy nor the condemnation are as yet complete. After the general resurrection, when the soul is united to the body, each one will receive the full measure of joy or condemnation due to him for the way in which he conducted himself, whether well or ill." (Confessions of Dositheus at the Synod of Constantinople, 1672) .

The Orthodox Church makes no hard and fast pronouncement, any more than do the Gospels, as to what the state of the soul is, and where it resides between death and the day of Judgment. We know there is a Heaven and a Hell, and that they are a state of the spirit. "Neither shall they say lo here! or lo there! for behold, the Kingdom of God is within you." (Luke 17:21). Our Lord also said: "In My Father's house there are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." (John 14:2).

We also firmly believe that man's probation and his free choice are here on earth, and that "Christ's power to forgive sins is on this side of the grave", as Theophylact says in St. Luke 5:24, commenting on the words of Christ (when He says "that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins"). Notice that it is on earth that sins are forgiven. So long as we are on earth, we can blot out our sins; after we have departed from the earth, we are no longer able to blot them out by confession, for the door is shut!16 Androutsos has said: "The absolution is a full, complete, and entire forgiveness and remission of all sin and a restoration and return to the state of grace."17 Furthermore, the idea of the necessity of propitiating the Divine righteousness by means of penalty is foreign to the Orthodox conception of an all loving and just God, limiting His powers.

Certain grievous sins are unforgivable, not as from the powerlessness of God or the Church, but because by their nature they make those committing them unrepentant and callous, so that in such cases divine Grace cannot operate. (Androutsos. Gavin p. 360)

The fifth Holy Mystery is Holy Orders. It is the mystery by which the Holy Spirit, through the laying-on of hands of bishops, gives grace and authority to the newly ordained priest or bishop to perform the Mysteries, and to conduct the religious life of the people. Through the touch of consecrated hands, this spiritual power is communicated to the person ordained, and thus the lawful continuity, authority and ministry of the Church was and is secured. (I Timothy 4:14 and 5:22).

Bishops have this grace because they are the successors of the Apostles. Christ Himself is our High Priest. (Heb. 5:4-6). He is the source of all power and authority in His Church, and gave the power to the Apostles to teach, to heal, and to forgive the sins of men.

There are three degrees of Holy Orders: bishops, priests and deacons. A bishop can administer all seven mysteries: the priest, all except Holy Orders: and the deacon assists both the bishop and the priest, but by himself, cannot perform any of the Sacraments.

A word should be inserted here about the monastic orders in the Orthodox Church. There are no differing orders in the sense that the Western Church uses the term, that is to say Franciscans, Benedictines, etc. There is a very strong monastic tradition in the Eastern Church. Since the time of St. Anthony of Egypt all the monasteries and convents follow the prescriptions of St. Basil the Great. Their chief objective is contemplative prayer. There is no set rule of probation or novitiate as in the West. There are three grades of monks: The lowest (Greek: rasophore, Slavic: rejasonosts) may be entered very shortly after the aspirant comes into the monastery. The second (Greek: stavrophore, Slavic: skhimnik) can be entered after three years, and if the postulant is over 25 (and in the case of a woman over 40). They then take four oral vows—of poverty, obedience, chastity and stability. To reach the third degree, megaloskhomos, to which only a few attain, takes 20 to 30 years of preparation. These monks devote themselves entirely to contemplative prayer, becoming hermits and taking the vow of silence. This is the pinnacle for which they are trained during the years of discipline in the communal life of the first two degrees. Many never pass the first two degrees; nonetheless, all are monks; the degree is one of spiritual attainment. Not all monks are priests (hiermonk) and no distinction is made between them if they are. All Bishops have to be monks of the first or second degree. If a Bishop should attain to the third degree, he has to resign all episcopal and sacerdotal functions except the celebration of the Liturgy, because of the extremely penitential and strict discipline and the long periods of silence.

Many monasteries and convents devote themselves to the care of the sick and suffering and also education; but these are side activities. The reason for monastic life in the East is prayer and contemplation, the drawing of the soul ever closer to God.

The sixth Holy Mystery is that of Matrimony, which represents the union of two souls and two bodies, and sanctifies this union that they are no more two, but one body.

The seventh Holy Mystery is Holy Unction, which consists of the priest's prayers and the anointing of a sick person with blessed oil through which God's grace affects the recovery of the sufferer. By sickness is meant both that of body and soul, for Unction heals the body of its infirmities as it cleanses the soul of its sin. St. James advises: "Is any sick among you? Let him call for the Elders of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith shall raise him up; and if he has committed sins they shall be forgiven him." (James 5:14-15). In this, the priest follows the tradition of the Apostles who, directed by Christ Himself, preached the Gospel, and among other miracles they "anointed with oil many that were sick and healed them." (Mark 6:13). This mystery is not necessarily reserved for the dying, but is administered also to any sufferer.

Thus the Church presides over the mysteries of all needs of man through its hierarchy.

In the Apostles, Our Lord laid the foundation of the hierarchy: to deny this would be to oppose the will of the Lord. Of course, the Apostles, by their consecration did not become equal or like Our Lord, vicars of Christ, or substitutes for Christ . . . Our Lord Himself lives invisibly in the Church "always now and forever and to eternity"; the hierarchy of the Apostles did not receive power of place, but power to communicate the gifts necessary to the Church . . . to the hierarchy belongs the authority to be mediators, servants of Christ18 from whom they received full power of their ministry as such: "the hierarchy represented by the episcopate becomes a sort of external doctrinal authority which regulates and moralizes the dogmatic life of the Church. . . . Inasmuch as the Church is a unity of faith and beliefs, bound together by the hierarchic succession, it must have its doctrinal definitions supported by the whole power of the Church. In the process of determining these truths the episcopate gets together with the laity, and appears as representative of the laity."19 "With us, the guardian of piety is the very body of the Church, that is, the people themselves, who will always preserve their faith unchanged." (Epistle of the Eastern Patriachs, 1849). This gathering is called the Synod, and is the Church's supreme authority.

Every Christian receiving Baptism becomes part of the Church and is responsible as a member for guarding the faith and also spreading it abroad. When the Church is spoken of, the entire Church is meant—the hierarchy, the laity—the living and the departed.

"Here we touch the very essence of Orthodox doctrine of the Church. All the power of Orthodox ecclesiology is concentrated on this point. Without understanding the question, it is impossible to understand Orthodoxy; it becomes dynamic compromise, a middle way between Roman and Protestant viewpoints. The soul of Orthodoxy is sobernost—according to the perfect definition of Khomiakov; in this one word of his is contained a whole confession of faith. . . .20 It is a Slavonic term but used in many Orthodox churches even by those whose language is basically Latin as for instance in the Romanian. It is used in place of "Catholic" in the Creed "Cred intr' una Sfanta Soborniceasca si Apostolica Biserica" (I believe in one "sobornical" and Apostolic Church).

"What then is sobornost?"

The word is derived from the verb "sobirat" to reunite, to assemble. From this comes the word "sobor" which, by a remarkable coincidence means both "council" and "church". Sobornost is the state of being together. . . . To believe in a "sobornaia" church is to believe in a Catholic Church, in the original sense of that word, and in a church that assembles and unites—it is also to believe in a conciliar church. Orthodoxy, says Khomiakov, is opposed to both authoritarianism and to individualism; it is a unanimity, a synthesis of authority. It is the liberty in love which unites believers. In the word "sobornost" is expressed all that.21

When the Church speaks, it is this sobor which speaks through the ages from its very foundation. All new problems are judged by the judgment of the entire Church through the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Thus "the Church is infallible, not because it expresses the Truth correctly, from the point of view of practical expediency, but because it contains the Truth. The Church, Truth, infallibility, these are synonyms."22

Another important element in the Orthodox faith is one without which its spiritual life would not be complete. This is the Communion of Saints, "which is a sharing of the prayers and good works of the heavenly and earthly Christians, and a familiar intercourse between ourselves and the glorified saints."23

The worship of saints must not be misunderstood or confused with the adoration due to God alone. It is, in fact, more correctly termed veneration. St. John Damascene says that veneration "is paid to all that are endowed with some dignity." But this relationship is not one of respect and honor to those who have lived good and saintly lives, but "just as a living Christian can beg the intercession of another living Christian, so we commend ourselves to the prayers of the saints."24

"The Orthodox Church gives a great place in its calendar to the patriarchs and prophets and to the just men of the Old Testament contrary to the practices of the Latin Church". Very high in the heavenly order stand the angels. The classification of angels and saints matters little; the important thing is that their recognition accords with the Scriptures. "The Greek Fathers lay particular stress upon our guardian angels . . . calling them pedagogues . . . fellow wayfarers . . .  preceptors".25 Above all, they are according to the "Biblical conception of the divine messengers, the guides of men. They are the bearers of the very Name and Power of God. They are flashes of light and strength of the Almighty Lord; there is nothing rosy or weakly poetical about them. . . . An integral Christian life should imply a daily and familiar intercourse with the angelic world."26

The Church teaches that each man has a guardian angel who stands before the face of the Lord. This guardian angel is not only a friend and protector, who preserves from evil and who sends good thoughts: the image of God is reflected in creatures—angels and men—in such a way that angels are celestial prototypes of men; guardian angels are especially our kin.27

The Blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God Incarnate, is held in especially high veneration. She stands above all other saints "more honourable than the cherubim and incomparably more glorious than the seraphim". Since the Gospel is the first and main source of Orthodox piety this veneration has its chief origin in the following New Testament text: "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women . . ." (Luke 1:28 to 29), and her answer "Behold the handmaiden of the Lord: be it unto me according to Thy word." (Luke 1:38) The description of the wedding in Cana of Galilee (John 2:3-5) denotes a special relationship between Mother and Son. Again, in Luke 11:27-28 that short and often misinterpreted conversation between the Lord and a woman unknown: Blessed is the womb that bare thee . . ." But He said, "Yea, rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it," a declaration which does not disparage Mary, but points out where her true merit lies,28—namely, that she heard and accepted the word of God. Finally, there are the Lord's words to St. John at the Cross: "Behold thy mother," (John 19:26-27). The Church has a special period of fasting before the Assumption and numerous feasts and hymns dedicated to Mary. We venerate in her the sanctification and glorification of human nature, because through her as a perfect spotless vessel God became man—"The Church never separates Mother and Son, she who was incarnated by Him Who was Incarnate—In adoring the humanity of Christ, we venerate His Mother, from whom He received His humanity and who, in her person, represents the whole of humanity."29

I must dwell here for a little upon the icons which are such an integral part of Orthodoxy. The word icon is actually "image" yet it is not, as in the Latin Church, a resemblance. "The Orthodox Church keeps the precept of the Decalogue: Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or likeness . . ." The icon is to be regarded rather as a sort of hieroglyph, a simplified symbol, a sign, an abstract scheme. The more an icon tends to reproduce human features, the further it swerves from the iconographical canons of the Church. "While the likeness is for the West a means of elevation and teaching, the Eastern icon is a means of communion. The icon is loaded with grace of an objective presence; it is a meeting place between the believer and the Heavenly world."30

The Orthodox Church also venerates the relics of saints "From the dogmatic point of view the veneration of relics (as well as that of the icons of Saints) is founded on faith in special connection between the spirit of the Saint and his human remains; a connection which death cannot destroy. In the case of Saints, the power of death is limited; their souls do not altogether leave their bodies, but remain present in spirit and in grace in their relics, even in the smallest portion. The relics are bodies already glorified in earnest of the resurrection although still awaiting that event. They have the same nature as that of the body of Christ in the Tomb, which, although it was awaiting its resurrection and dead, deserted by the soul, still was not altogether abandoned by His divine spirit."31

"Byzantine Art does not compete with color photography. Religious art is not concerned with pretty, proportioned figures of men and women, but with beauty of spirit, with self-sacrifice, with prayer, with service to God and fellowman, and above all, with the life hereafter. It takes conscious effort over an extended period of time to free oneself from the material world to contemplate the message of ancient icon painters; it is the message of the Church. . . . An icon aims at transfiguration of the human face and figure as it might be in the Kingdom of God. . . .

"Those who have bequeathed the riches of a unique religion to us did so out of love of fellowman and God. Our icons are not signed. We do not know who painted some of our greatest masterpieces. The artists' idea was to glorify the Heavens, not themselves. 'Blessed are the humble, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven'."32

"There is, in my opinion, a parallel between Orthodox art and Orthodox music. The spirit of namelessness, humility and above all the everlasting qualities in an icon are to be found in the traditional chants and great compositions sung in our churches. Without musical accompaniment, the interpretation and attitude of the singers becomes all-important. In this field, the Russians, who have the longest continuous history for free development of all Orthodox, have contributed much. Most of us who are Orthodox do not regard ourselves as theologians, but one element which particularly endears our religion to us, is the spiritual realm of music.

"There is a great affinity between the Eastern Orthodox Churches and the Anglican Church. Both are self-governing churches bound together by the same Eucharistic rite. Both of them are administered by a collaboration of the clergy and laity. Neither Church is bound to one school of thought which might hold it to a doctrinal system aimed at defining their logical-problems in a cut-and-dried way. Above all, they are both inspired by the same ideal of unity in freedom, an ideal which, if not always necessarily realized, is nonetheless faithfully and lovingly adhered to by both."33

The Anglican and the Orthodox Churches are admirably suited to start the healing of the breach which, for over six hundred years has separated the East from the West. Each has much to contribute to the other. The Orthodox has all the dogmatic and liturgical riches that the Anglican needs today. By entering into communion with the whole Orthodox Church, the Anglicans would strengthen their own Apostolic tradition. Their orders, recognized by all Orthodox Churches, would give them an unassailable position towards Rome, and at the same time they would be a bridgehead towards the Protestant Churches, by virtue of being both Catholic and Protestant.

There is a strong movement to seek understanding among the clergy of both confessions, but it is not sufficiently shared by the laity, who in both churches know practically nothing about each other. Yet, if this healing is to take place, all must participate in it, heart and soul and mind, becoming not only in theory, but in very fact, One Body in Christ Jesus. This, I realize, is a problem that can only be approached with much prayer, thought, devotion, and time.

This short, all-too-short and sketchy exposition of Orthodox thought and doctrine should end, as all things should, in prayer, and prayer is the Invocation of the Name of Jesus. In spite of the great pomp and ceremony of the Liturgy, this prayer is simple to a degree and opens the door to contemplation and to the at-one-ment of the soul with God; it is the apex towards which all other prayers tend. "The Invocation of the name of Jesus can be put into many strains. It is for each person to find the form which is the most appropriate to his own ear or prayer; but whatever formula may be used, the heart and center of this invocation must be the Holy Name itself; the word "Jesus". There resides the whole strength of the invocation.

The name of Jesus may either be used alone or be inserted in the more or less developed phrases. . . . "The name of Jesus only is the most ancient mold of the invocation of the Name."35

Until the whole person, mind, soul and body can lose itself and at the same time comprehend the allness of God in one word, let us learn in all honesty to say: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner."




H. R. H. Princess Ileana of Romania was born in Bucharest on January 7, 1909, the youngest daughter of King Ferdinand and Queen Marie. She is a great-granddaughter of Queen Victoria, and also of Czar Alexander II of Russia, who freed the serfs. In 1931 she married Archduke Anton of Austria, and is the mother of six children.

A young girl during the First World War, the Princess saw suffering at first hand, grew up with a deep concern for the welfare of the people, became a Red Cross nurse in the last war when she set up and supervised her own hospital in Romania. In 1950, after her exile from her own country and two years in South America, she came to the United States. She has lectured extensively in this country and is the author of two books: I LIVE AGAIN, her memoirs, and a forthcoming volume, THE HOSPITAL OF THE QUEEN'S HEART.

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THE ADVENT PAPERS
135 MOUNT VERNON STREET
BOSTON 8, MASSACHUSETTS

 The Spirit of Orthodoxy

HAVING been baptized into and brought up in the Eastern Orthodox Church, I have taken it for granted all my life. It is only lately that I was confronted with the question: "What is Orthodoxy? What do the Orthodox believe?" I have found myself being looked at and questioned with the misgiving and curiosity shown some exotic creature, not quite the same as other people.

I have not been offended by this curiosity; instead I have become equally curious to find out why so little is known about my Church which represents a greater part of Eastern Europe and a good part of Western Asia, as well as a significant number of Americans. I have found it imperative to seek out the truths in the churches of the East and West, and see for myself where the difference lies, and why they have grown such strangers to each other.

The Orthodox Church goes back to the very beginning of Christianity, evolving according to the needs and mentality of the peoples it united within its fold. At first, there was no Eastern or Western Church, but only one Catholic (universal and complete) and Orthodox (right-thinking) Church, which, as a body, kept the faith pure, and defended Christendom as a whole from heresies.

Arianism was condemned in the first of the seven Ecumenical Councils, held at Nicaea in 325. This Council was attended by 318 bishops from all parts of the then Christian world. The first seven articles of the Nicene Creed were formed at this time, and twenty canons were passed governing the rights and conduct of bishops and metropolitans. The last five articles of the Creed were formed at the second Council in the year 381 in Constantinople. This Council consisted of 150 bishops, all from the Eastern part of Europe; nonetheless, its decisions were fully accepted by the Western bishops. The other five councils of the undivided Church dealt with further heresies, and their rulings were accepted by East and West alike.

In the first centuries, there were five great Patriarchates—Alexandria, Jerusalem, Antioch, Rome and Constantinople. By degrees, two of them became the more important: Rome, because it was the imperial city and because its patriarch claimed direct apostolic descent from St. Peter, and Constantinople, which under the Emperor Constantine, became the new imperial city, the seat of government for the Roman Empire. When the Emperor left Rome for Constantinople, his authority gradually passed to the Bishop of Rome, who now alone stood for order and tradition in the western part of the empire abandoned to the barbarians from the North. Constantinople, meanwhile, quite naturally became the great center of the East. These two great Sees were in perfect accord in the fighting down of heresies and in compiling the Nicene Creed, to which to this day both firmly adhere, as they do to the apostolic hierarchy and all major dogmas of faith. Their estrangement came from political rather than from dogmatic differences, though these were later used as arguments. The most important of the dogmatic discussions centered around the Filioque in the Creed. (The Western Church says: "We believe in the Holy Ghost who proceeds from the Father and the Son . . .", while the Eastern Church says: ". . . proceeds from the Father, and is worshipped with the Father and the Son.")

The schism did not come about suddenly or with especial violence, although there was much regrettable and unChristian behavior on both sides. In fact, no one can actually put a date to the schism. Some place it in 1054; others 400 years later in 1439, after the abortive conference of Florence. It is perhaps one of the major catastrophes of Christianity that East and West fell apart. The advance of the great Moslem empire was partly responsible for this. For nearly 500 years it claimed Eastern Europe for its own, engulfing millions of souls and parting them effectively from their Western brothers.

This is a very brief outline of the historical facts. But the explanation of the breach is not to be found in history alone. Its causes lie much deeper, in the nature and mentality of East and West, and in the different interpretations each gave the same belief and creed.

It can never be sufficiently stressed that there never was disagreement on a point of faith; that neither Orthodox nor Roman Catholics considered the others heretics, but rather schismatics. A grave sin which each regrets to have seen the other fall into! Alas for Christianity, this sin was committed, and the great spiritual power of unity has been lost! Yet who can penetrate the ways and will of God, and why did each branch have to work out its separate way to salvation? Each accumulated its wisdom and knowledge according to the minds of different peoples; each became rich in a spirituality that goes deep into the nature of things, so that today both sides have stored great treasures, which, if joined together, may yet bring the world more peace and joy than we understand or can imagine.

We are now living in a time when cultures are being brought close together, meeting and interchanging thoughts and ideas. By the migration of people, through wars and oppression, the Eastern Church has moved westward and is mingling with churches of all denominations. No more are Orthodox Churches in America and Europe just chapels serving small groups of Russians, Serbs, Greeks, Romanians, and others; they have become a part of American life. Nearly five million Americans now belong to this confession, which has its own churches, schools and seminaries. Orthodoxy is no longer a vague and distant faith of Oriental peoples, but is an integral part of American life today. What, then, does it stand for?

It stands for Christianity unimpaired, and transmitted unchanged to us through the Church's Holy Tradition. It teaches that there is only one church, and that that church is Orthodox and Catholic. It is believed to be firmly based upon the teachings of our Lord as transmitted by the first Apostles and through the Gospel. Because the creeds and even the Holy Scriptures came into being after the founding of the Church by Christ and the Apostles, "Holy Tradition" is venerated in the Church. Notwithstanding the fact that after the destruction of the Byzantine Empire, the Eastern Church fell into various national groups, the Tradition has remained unimpaired. Through hundreds of years of Ottoman and other persecution, the heads of the churches could meet but seldom to discuss points of dogma, yet all have kept the same exact faith and, although each group necessarily reads the Liturgy in its own tongue, the ceremony varies only slightly if at all.

This brings us to the importance of the Liturgy which is the whole life of the Church. Liturgy is the Eastern word for Mass or Eucharist. The rite focuses upon worship and it combines both praise and thanksgiving for our Lord's self-sacrifice. It depicts in various symbols the entire life of our Lord from birth to crucifixion and glorious resurrection. There is an intimacy in the relationship of the faithful and clergy and in the participation of all in the service, which is not apparent nor easily understandable to those accustomed to Western services. Although partaking of Holy Communion is not as frequent as in the Western Church, the congregation always takes a very real and spiritually active part in offering the Eucharistic sacrifice. The pomp and ceremony, the mystery, the closed altar doors, the glory of the hymns—far from intimidating and estranging the faithful, all these make them part of the Sacrament. The beauty, the music, the prayers, detach them from their mundane life; their intellect can be at peace. Because of this powerful mystical participation of all in the Liturgy the Orthodox confession is the same church, with the same ceremony, the same expression the world over, regardless of race, nationality or language.

The next important point is the extreme reverence given the Holy Scriptures. Both the Old and the New Testaments figure largely in the Orthodox daily life. Not only has their study been encouraged from earliest times, but even the illiterate have learned whole portions by heart. The Psalms are part of everyday prayers. The simplest peasant in the most isolated mountain valley in the Carpathians, Balkans or Caucasus is able to cite a Bible verse applicable to any situation in which he may find himself.

Because the Ottoman sovereignty over the Christian peoples of the East was expressed in both religious and national persecution, it followed quite naturally that faith and nationalism should become one and the same thing. Thus people and Church were in very truth united. National kings were anointed by the Church and were part of that Church. This union of Church and State, however, was not always an advantage, but the pros and cons of this point are too lengthy and weighty to be discussed adequately in this short account of Orthodoxy. The important thing is that Orthodoxy has survived Ottoman persecution, Czarism, and is even now surviving Communism. Although the various national groupings are at present a hindrance to concentrated Orthodox action, they have not impaired the Orthodox faith, and no member of any one group seeking the ministrations of the Church is out of communion with any other group. He can freely participate in the Holy Mysteries wherever he finds them.

The Orthodox Church does not speak of Sacraments, but of Holy Mysteries. It does not try to put them into cut-and-dried formulae but accepts them with gratitude and awe. The Easterner has a less inquisitive mind than the Westerner; his mind is more contemplative, less disciplined, but profounder than the Western mind. Where the latter wants definitions, clear intellectual understanding and perception, the former will seek the depths and is content with undefined contacts with the intangible. Perhaps because of long persecutions, he has been thrown more upon himself, and has had to go deeper into reality by himself. There has been less definition and therefore less divergency of opinion. When there have been revelations, their authenticity has not been judged by schooled contemporary minds, but has been held up for judgment by the Church's tradition. If such revelation was found to be in accord with that tradition, it was accepted. The Orthodox Church has been less eager than the Western churches to move with the times, for it feels that it holds the eternal verities. At the same time, it has remarkable adaptability and independence of movement with which to break with any custom when circumstances demand. For example, when Communist Serbia declared Christmas Day a working day so that church services could not be attended, Liturgies were read from midnight on, every two hours until morning, despite the fact that tradition long has ruled that only one Mass in twenty-four hours was to be said at the same altar. Yet, no individual feels that any authority can give him dispensation from the Church's traditional rules, such as that of fasting, which, for the Orthodox, is extremely severe. He feels that the Church's rules were divinely inspired when the Church was founded and no human has either the power or the right to change them or to add to them.

It is a very important factor in the discipline of the Orthodox Church, and largely constitutes its surviving power, that its principles are so deeply ingrained in the laity that the law of the Church is often stronger in them than in the clergy. For example, the laity will accept the Synod's decisions concerning recognition of other confessions, orders and communions with which it feels not competent to deal, but would never accept new dogmas or the doing away with old ones. And no Orthodox would conceive of changing religion for family reasons or because of a change of community, though we would be very tolerant of a change made from spiritual conviction.

There is a belief that, as the Western Church was founded by St. Peter and St. Paul, so the Eastern Church was founded by St. John. Be this as it may, there is no doubt that the Orthodox Church is greatly influenced by the Gospel and Epistles and the Revelations of St. John, and that of these, the spirituality and beauty of the fourth Gospel is its leading factor. The very term "Mystery" for "Sacrament" comes from St. John. An example of the Church's attitude is in the passage in St. John 3:1-21 which tells of our Lord's discussion of the spiritual rebirth of man with Nicodemus; even after Jesus' explanation Nicodemus does not understand. Jesus says: "Art thou a master of Israel and knowest not these things?" and then goes on to explain at length His nature and the way to salvation. The Orthodox Christian does not question but believes in the rebirth of man through the Holy Mysteries which the Church has guarded for him direct from our Lord.

These Holy Mysteries or Sacraments are seven in number—Baptism, Chrismation (equivalent to Western Confirmation), Communion, Penance, Holy Orders, Matrimony and Unction. Let us go over these seven Mysteries and explain the Orthodox catechism, known as "The Faith of the Saints."

A Holy Mystery or Sacrament "is a visible ritual performance through which the invisible saving power called God's grace bestows wonderful gifts upon the recipients."1

Since the word "grace" is so often misunderstood, I believe it is well before going further, to declare the Orthodox definition of the word: "God's grace is God's gift which the Father gives men through the Holy Spirit because of the merits of the Son."2

Baptism is the first Holy Mystery, and by it the baptized person is cleansed of all sin, original and personal, and as a newborn child of God, is incorporated into the Church of Christ.

This ceremony is performed by thrice-repeated total immersion in water, in the name of the Holy Trinity—of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. The three immersions represent death to sin against the Trinity, and the three risings mean the life in and to the Holy Trinity. The Church's authority for baptism comes direct from Christ, in His clear commandment to His disciples to teach and baptize all nations (Matt. 28:19), and also His stern warning: "Except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God." (John 3:5). (To the Orthodox, the death of an unbaptized child means its eventual exclusion from the Christian family on the day of the Last Judgment.) Baptism is also a sign of obedience to the Apostolic practice (Acts 10:44-48, 16:15 and I Cor. 1:16). Above all, it is right because of the love of Jesus who commanded: "Let the children come unto Me," and what Christian would not harken to this call?

Baptism is followed immediately by the Holy Chrismation, the second Holy Mystery, through which a baptized person is armed with strength and wisdom by the Holy Spirit. The priest anoints the forehead, breast, eyes, ears, cheeks, mouth, hands and feet with the Holy Chrism (oil) pronouncing the words: "The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Amen." These words are taken from II Cor. 1:21-22: "He who establisheth us with you in Christ, has anointed us in God who has also sealed us, and given us the earnest of the spirit in our hearts."

Chrismation is an extension of, and a sharing in the unction of our Lord with the Holy Ghost, accomplished by the Father. Therefore, the unction unites us not only to the Spirit, but to the Son.3

The holy oil is prepared and consecrated by the bishops, and its use is thus an equivalent to the laying-on of hands in Confirmation in the Western churches, the transmitting of the Holy Ghost. The Orthodox Church offers no theory about the manner of this transmission, but remembers "that God is a Spirit and must be worshipped in spirit and in truth (John 4:14), especially when we turn to the Person of the Holy Ghost." The Chrism is but the channel "of the invisible and spiritual unction which God pours into the hearts of men whenever and wherever He pleases."4

St. Paul says: "The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are His." (II Timothy 2:19). The Book of Revelation enumerates the servants of God "sealed" from all tribes. (Rev. 7:3-4).

St. Cyril of Jerusalem puts it this way: "Do not forget the Holy Ghost at the time of your illumination; He is ready to stamp your soul with His seal."

A monk of the Eastern Church writes: "The sealing by the Holy Ghost means therefore that the Spirit imprints on us the Father's likeness; that is, the Lord Jesus Himself. From that moment we do not belong any more to ourselves. We have become . . . the slaves and the soldiers of Christ and His sacrificial co-victims. The first Christians used the expression "to keep the seal" in the sense of remaining faithful."5

Once the new Christian has received the Holy Mysteries of Baptism and Chrismation, he is ready to accept the Holy Eucharist. The first two ceremonies are performed in the transcept of the church. Now the child is brought up to the altar by his godparent. He will now partake, as all faithful Christians do, of the true Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ in the visible form of bread and wine. From now on, this will be the central part of his spiritual life. Although there is no ruling about this, a child, after the first communion following his baptism, usually does not communicate until he is able to do so intelligently—around the age of seven, unless he is mortally ill.

Holy Communion, or the Eucharist, is the center of all Orthodox worship, and is prepared and used in the Divine Liturgy. "The aim of man's life is union with God and deification."6 Deification is not, of course, "a pantheistic identity, but is a sharing through grace of the divine life."7

"This participation takes man within the life of the three Divine Persons themselves, in the incessant circulation and overflowing of love which courses between the Father, the Son and the Spirit, and which expresses the very nature of God. . . . Union with God is the perfect fulfillment with the Kingdom, announced by the Gospel, and that love which sums up all the Law and the Prophets."8

The faithful seek this union through communion. "The Orthodox Church . . . believes that the Sacraments are not mere symbols of divine things, but that the gift of spiritual reality is attached to these signs perceptible by the senses . . . that is, in the Eucharistic mystery, the same grace is present nowadays that was once imparted in the Upper Room. There are two aspects to this: the mystical and the aesthetical. The mystical aspect consists in the fact that Sacramental grace is not the outcome of human effort but is bestowed objectively by our Lord. The aesthetical aspect consists in the fact that the Holy Mysteries bring forth their fruit in the . . . recipient only if that soul is assenting to, and is prepared for it. The Greek Fathers emphasized human freedom in the work of salvation."9 St. John Chrysostom writes: "We must first select good and then God adds what appertains to this office. He does not act antecedently to our will, so as not to destroy our liberty."10

"Clement of Alexandria coined the word "synergy" (cooperation) in order to express the action of these two co-joined energies: grace and human will. This term and idea . . . represents today the doctrine of the Orthodox Church on these matters."11 For this reason, the faithful feel that their active part in the Liturgy is essential, and preparation for making their communion is taken very seriously, preceded always by a day of fasting and by confession.

"Orthodoxy does not agree with the Latin doctrine of Transubstantiation, but believes that Christ who is offered in the mystery of the Holy Supper, is truly there present . . . Orthodoxy does not practice the cult of the consecrated elements outside the Liturgy."12 The Roman Church further makes a great point of difference in the actual moment that the mystery takes place. They fix it at the use by the priest of the words of Institution: "This is My Body . . . This is My Blood."—while the Orthodox say that "the sanctification of the Holy Gifts operates during the entire Liturgy, whose essential part consists in the words of institution of Our Lord following the invocation of the Holy Spirit, and the benediction of the elements ("epiklesis").13

Eucharistic grace fulfills the grace of Baptism and of Chrismation. In the Paschal mystery is found the Lord's Supper, the Passion and the Resurrection, yet the Eucharistic Sacrament is not an end in itself, but a means to spiritual reality greater than the sacraments themselves. Communicating with Christ, we communicate with all His members. "For we being many, are one bread and one body: for we are partakers of that one bread." The Eucharist is the life flow that courses through the whole body of Christ's Church. We do not absorb it; it absorbs us.

For man to be worthy of so great a love by which God gave His only begotten Son to save us from sin and perdition is almost superhuman. It could not be, had not our Lord instituted also the Mystery of Holy Penance when He told us to confess our sins to each other and gave His Apostles the power to remit sins. "Receive ye the Holy Spirit; whosoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them, and whosoever sins ye retain, they are retained." (John 20:22-23)

Every sin we commit against man, we commit against God, too. There is no sin that does not hurt God. It is not sufficient to confess and make retribution to the person injured, but we should seek also to confess to a priest, successor to the Holy Apostles, who have spiritually inherited the power to forgive sins. There are sins for which there appears, to human understanding, to be no forgiveness. Yet we know of many instances of great sinners who, through true repentance had their sins remitted, and have become great saints.

The Church urges frequent confession, especially before Holy Communion and during illness, so that the soul may ever be ready to stand before the Judgment Seat. In no way is this a control of the faithful's lives by the priesthood. The priest is only the channel through which men gain God's forgiveness. One does not confess to the priest as a person, but to God through the priest. The priest is there to help the penitent formulate his sin and to be the visible transmitter of God's grace of forgiveness. He is the vehicle which Christ instituted for this purpose.

Here, as in all the other Mysteries, the Orthodox Church teaches that "God is not bound to the Sacraments; there is 'One greater than the Temple' (Matt. 12:6) and greater than the Holy Mysteries."14 That is to say, that should death befall a person where he cannot partake of any of the Mysteries, God may yet reach him if his soul is prepared by love and repentance. "Unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out." (Rom. 11:33) When He so wishes it, God does not need the visible ritual performance to bestow His gifts.

The Orthodox Church does not have the dogma of Purgatory. "According to the Orthodox Church, death ends man's probation and immediately after death he is judged. His fate in eternity is determined by his whole moral state at the moment of death."15 "We believe that the souls of the departed are in repose or torment as each one wrought, for immediately after the separation from the body, they are pronounced either for bliss or for suffering and sorrow, yet we confess that neither the joy nor the condemnation are as yet complete. After the general resurrection, when the soul is united to the body, each one will receive the full measure of joy or condemnation due to him for the way in which he conducted himself, whether well or ill." (Confessions of Dositheus at the Synod of Constantinople, 1672) .

The Orthodox Church makes no hard and fast pronouncement, any more than do the Gospels, as to what the state of the soul is, and where it resides between death and the day of Judgment. We know there is a Heaven and a Hell, and that they are a state of the spirit. "Neither shall they say lo here! or lo there! for behold, the Kingdom of God is within you." (Luke 17:21). Our Lord also said: "In My Father's house there are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." (John 14:2).

We also firmly believe that man's probation and his free choice are here on earth, and that "Christ's power to forgive sins is on this side of the grave", as Theophylact says in St. Luke 5:24, commenting on the words of Christ (when He says "that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins"). Notice that it is on earth that sins are forgiven. So long as we are on earth, we can blot out our sins; after we have departed from the earth, we are no longer able to blot them out by confession, for the door is shut!16 Androutsos has said: "The absolution is a full, complete, and entire forgiveness and remission of all sin and a restoration and return to the state of grace."17 Furthermore, the idea of the necessity of propitiating the Divine righteousness by means of penalty is foreign to the Orthodox conception of an all loving and just God, limiting His powers.

Certain grievous sins are unforgivable, not as from the powerlessness of God or the Church, but because by their nature they make those committing them unrepentant and callous, so that in such cases divine Grace cannot operate. (Androutsos. Gavin p. 360)

The fifth Holy Mystery is Holy Orders. It is the mystery by which the Holy Spirit, through the laying-on of hands of bishops, gives grace and authority to the newly ordained priest or bishop to perform the Mysteries, and to conduct the religious life of the people. Through the touch of consecrated hands, this spiritual power is communicated to the person ordained, and thus the lawful continuity, authority and ministry of the Church was and is secured. (I Timothy 4:14 and 5:22).

Bishops have this grace because they are the successors of the Apostles. Christ Himself is our High Priest. (Heb. 5:4-6). He is the source of all power and authority in His Church, and gave the power to the Apostles to teach, to heal, and to forgive the sins of men.

There are three degrees of Holy Orders: bishops, priests and deacons. A bishop can administer all seven mysteries: the priest, all except Holy Orders: and the deacon assists both the bishop and the priest, but by himself, cannot perform any of the Sacraments.

A word should be inserted here about the monastic orders in the Orthodox Church. There are no differing orders in the sense that the Western Church uses the term, that is to say Franciscans, Benedictines, etc. There is a very strong monastic tradition in the Eastern Church. Since the time of St. Anthony of Egypt all the monasteries and convents follow the prescriptions of St. Basil the Great. Their chief objective is contemplative prayer. There is no set rule of probation or novitiate as in the West. There are three grades of monks: The lowest (Greek: rasophore, Slavic: rejasonosts) may be entered very shortly after the aspirant comes into the monastery. The second (Greek: stavrophore, Slavic: skhimnik) can be entered after three years, and if the postulant is over 25 (and in the case of a woman over 40). They then take four oral vows—of poverty, obedience, chastity and stability. To reach the third degree, megaloskhomos, to which only a few attain, takes 20 to 30 years of preparation. These monks devote themselves entirely to contemplative prayer, becoming hermits and taking the vow of silence. This is the pinnacle for which they are trained during the years of discipline in the communal life of the first two degrees. Many never pass the first two degrees; nonetheless, all are monks; the degree is one of spiritual attainment. Not all monks are priests (hiermonk) and no distinction is made between them if they are. All Bishops have to be monks of the first or second degree. If a Bishop should attain to the third degree, he has to resign all episcopal and sacerdotal functions except the celebration of the Liturgy, because of the extremely penitential and strict discipline and the long periods of silence.

Many monasteries and convents devote themselves to the care of the sick and suffering and also education; but these are side activities. The reason for monastic life in the East is prayer and contemplation, the drawing of the soul ever closer to God.

The sixth Holy Mystery is that of Matrimony, which represents the union of two souls and two bodies, and sanctifies this union that they are no more two, but one body.

The seventh Holy Mystery is Holy Unction, which consists of the priest's prayers and the anointing of a sick person with blessed oil through which God's grace affects the recovery of the sufferer. By sickness is meant both that of body and soul, for Unction heals the body of its infirmities as it cleanses the soul of its sin. St. James advises: "Is any sick among you? Let him call for the Elders of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of faith shall raise him up; and if he has committed sins they shall be forgiven him." (James 5:14-15). In this, the priest follows the tradition of the Apostles who, directed by Christ Himself, preached the Gospel, and among other miracles they "anointed with oil many that were sick and healed them." (Mark 6:13). This mystery is not necessarily reserved for the dying, but is administered also to any sufferer.

Thus the Church presides over the mysteries of all needs of man through its hierarchy.

In the Apostles, Our Lord laid the foundation of the hierarchy: to deny this would be to oppose the will of the Lord. Of course, the Apostles, by their consecration did not become equal or like Our Lord, vicars of Christ, or substitutes for Christ . . . Our Lord Himself lives invisibly in the Church "always now and forever and to eternity"; the hierarchy of the Apostles did not receive power of place, but power to communicate the gifts necessary to the Church . . . to the hierarchy belongs the authority to be mediators, servants of Christ18 from whom they received full power of their ministry as such: "the hierarchy represented by the episcopate becomes a sort of external doctrinal authority which regulates and moralizes the dogmatic life of the Church. . . . Inasmuch as the Church is a unity of faith and beliefs, bound together by the hierarchic succession, it must have its doctrinal definitions supported by the whole power of the Church. In the process of determining these truths the episcopate gets together with the laity, and appears as representative of the laity."19 "With us, the guardian of piety is the very body of the Church, that is, the people themselves, who will always preserve their faith unchanged." (Epistle of the Eastern Patriachs, 1849). This gathering is called the Synod, and is the Church's supreme authority.

Every Christian receiving Baptism becomes part of the Church and is responsible as a member for guarding the faith and also spreading it abroad. When the Church is spoken of, the entire Church is meant—the hierarchy, the laity—the living and the departed.

"Here we touch the very essence of Orthodox doctrine of the Church. All the power of Orthodox ecclesiology is concentrated on this point. Without understanding the question, it is impossible to understand Orthodoxy; it becomes dynamic compromise, a middle way between Roman and Protestant viewpoints. The soul of Orthodoxy is sobernost—according to the perfect definition of Khomiakov; in this one word of his is contained a whole confession of faith. . . .20 It is a Slavonic term but used in many Orthodox churches even by those whose language is basically Latin as for instance in the Romanian. It is used in place of "Catholic" in the Creed "Cred intr' una Sfanta Soborniceasca si Apostolica Biserica" (I believe in one "sobornical" and Apostolic Church).

"What then is sobornost?"

The word is derived from the verb "sobirat" to reunite, to assemble. From this comes the word "sobor" which, by a remarkable coincidence means both "council" and "church". Sobornost is the state of being together. . . . To believe in a "sobornaia" church is to believe in a Catholic Church, in the original sense of that word, and in a church that assembles and unites—it is also to believe in a conciliar church. Orthodoxy, says Khomiakov, is opposed to both authoritarianism and to individualism; it is a unanimity, a synthesis of authority. It is the liberty in love which unites believers. In the word "sobornost" is expressed all that.21

When the Church speaks, it is this sobor which speaks through the ages from its very foundation. All new problems are judged by the judgment of the entire Church through the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Thus "the Church is infallible, not because it expresses the Truth correctly, from the point of view of practical expediency, but because it contains the Truth. The Church, Truth, infallibility, these are synonyms."22

Another important element in the Orthodox faith is one without which its spiritual life would not be complete. This is the Communion of Saints, "which is a sharing of the prayers and good works of the heavenly and earthly Christians, and a familiar intercourse between ourselves and the glorified saints."23

The worship of saints must not be misunderstood or confused with the adoration due to God alone. It is, in fact, more correctly termed veneration. St. John Damascene says that veneration "is paid to all that are endowed with some dignity." But this relationship is not one of respect and honor to those who have lived good and saintly lives, but "just as a living Christian can beg the intercession of another living Christian, so we commend ourselves to the prayers of the saints."24

"The Orthodox Church gives a great place in its calendar to the patriarchs and prophets and to the just men of the Old Testament contrary to the practices of the Latin Church". Very high in the heavenly order stand the angels. The classification of angels and saints matters little; the important thing is that their recognition accords with the Scriptures. "The Greek Fathers lay particular stress upon our guardian angels . . . calling them pedagogues . . . fellow wayfarers . . .  preceptors".25 Above all, they are according to the "Biblical conception of the divine messengers, the guides of men. They are the bearers of the very Name and Power of God. They are flashes of light and strength of the Almighty Lord; there is nothing rosy or weakly poetical about them. . . . An integral Christian life should imply a daily and familiar intercourse with the angelic world."26

The Church teaches that each man has a guardian angel who stands before the face of the Lord. This guardian angel is not only a friend and protector, who preserves from evil and who sends good thoughts: the image of God is reflected in creatures—angels and men—in such a way that angels are celestial prototypes of men; guardian angels are especially our kin.27

The Blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God Incarnate, is held in especially high veneration. She stands above all other saints "more honourable than the cherubim and incomparably more glorious than the seraphim". Since the Gospel is the first and main source of Orthodox piety this veneration has its chief origin in the following New Testament text: "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women . . ." (Luke 1:28 to 29), and her answer "Behold the handmaiden of the Lord: be it unto me according to Thy word." (Luke 1:38) The description of the wedding in Cana of Galilee (John 2:3-5) denotes a special relationship between Mother and Son. Again, in Luke 11:27-28 that short and often misinterpreted conversation between the Lord and a woman unknown: Blessed is the womb that bare thee . . ." But He said, "Yea, rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it," a declaration which does not disparage Mary, but points out where her true merit lies,28—namely, that she heard and accepted the word of God. Finally, there are the Lord's words to St. John at the Cross: "Behold thy mother," (John 19:26-27). The Church has a special period of fasting before the Assumption and numerous feasts and hymns dedicated to Mary. We venerate in her the sanctification and glorification of human nature, because through her as a perfect spotless vessel God became man—"The Church never separates Mother and Son, she who was incarnated by Him Who was Incarnate—In adoring the humanity of Christ, we venerate His Mother, from whom He received His humanity and who, in her person, represents the whole of humanity."29

I must dwell here for a little upon the icons which are such an integral part of Orthodoxy. The word icon is actually "image" yet it is not, as in the Latin Church, a resemblance. "The Orthodox Church keeps the precept of the Decalogue: Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or likeness . . ." The icon is to be regarded rather as a sort of hieroglyph, a simplified symbol, a sign, an abstract scheme. The more an icon tends to reproduce human features, the further it swerves from the iconographical canons of the Church. "While the likeness is for the West a means of elevation and teaching, the Eastern icon is a means of communion. The icon is loaded with grace of an objective presence; it is a meeting place between the believer and the Heavenly world."30

The Orthodox Church also venerates the relics of saints "From the dogmatic point of view the veneration of relics (as well as that of the icons of Saints) is founded on faith in special connection between the spirit of the Saint and his human remains; a connection which death cannot destroy. In the case of Saints, the power of death is limited; their souls do not altogether leave their bodies, but remain present in spirit and in grace in their relics, even in the smallest portion. The relics are bodies already glorified in earnest of the resurrection although still awaiting that event. They have the same nature as that of the body of Christ in the Tomb, which, although it was awaiting its resurrection and dead, deserted by the soul, still was not altogether abandoned by His divine spirit."31

"Byzantine Art does not compete with color photography. Religious art is not concerned with pretty, proportioned figures of men and women, but with beauty of spirit, with self-sacrifice, with prayer, with service to God and fellowman, and above all, with the life hereafter. It takes conscious effort over an extended period of time to free oneself from the material world to contemplate the message of ancient icon painters; it is the message of the Church. . . . An icon aims at transfiguration of the human face and figure as it might be in the Kingdom of God. . . .

"Those who have bequeathed the riches of a unique religion to us did so out of love of fellowman and God. Our icons are not signed. We do not know who painted some of our greatest masterpieces. The artists' idea was to glorify the Heavens, not themselves. 'Blessed are the humble, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven'."32

"There is, in my opinion, a parallel between Orthodox art and Orthodox music. The spirit of namelessness, humility and above all the everlasting qualities in an icon are to be found in the traditional chants and great compositions sung in our churches. Without musical accompaniment, the interpretation and attitude of the singers becomes all-important. In this field, the Russians, who have the longest continuous history for free development of all Orthodox, have contributed much. Most of us who are Orthodox do not regard ourselves as theologians, but one element which particularly endears our religion to us, is the spiritual realm of music.

"There is a great affinity between the Eastern Orthodox Churches and the Anglican Church. Both are self-governing churches bound together by the same Eucharistic rite. Both of them are administered by a collaboration of the clergy and laity. Neither Church is bound to one school of thought which might hold it to a doctrinal system aimed at defining their logical-problems in a cut-and-dried way. Above all, they are both inspired by the same ideal of unity in freedom, an ideal which, if not always necessarily realized, is nonetheless faithfully and lovingly adhered to by both."33

The Anglican and the Orthodox Churches are admirably suited to start the healing of the breach which, for over six hundred years has separated the East from the West. Each has much to contribute to the other. The Orthodox has all the dogmatic and liturgical riches that the Anglican needs today. By entering into communion with the whole Orthodox Church, the Anglicans would strengthen their own Apostolic tradition. Their orders, recognized by all Orthodox Churches, would give them an unassailable position towards Rome, and at the same time they would be a bridgehead towards the Protestant Churches, by virtue of being both Catholic and Protestant.

There is a strong movement to seek understanding among the clergy of both confessions, but it is not sufficiently shared by the laity, who in both churches know practically nothing about each other. Yet, if this healing is to take place, all must participate in it, heart and soul and mind, becoming not only in theory, but in very fact, One Body in Christ Jesus. This, I realize, is a problem that can only be approached with much prayer, thought, devotion, and time.

This short, all-too-short and sketchy exposition of Orthodox thought and doctrine should end, as all things should, in prayer, and prayer is the Invocation of the Name of Jesus. In spite of the great pomp and ceremony of the Liturgy, this prayer is simple to a degree and opens the door to contemplation and to the at-one-ment of the soul with God; it is the apex towards which all other prayers tend. "The Invocation of the name of Jesus can be put into many strains. It is for each person to find the form which is the most appropriate to his own ear or prayer; but whatever formula may be used, the heart and center of this invocation must be the Holy Name itself; the word "Jesus". There resides the whole strength of the invocation.

The name of Jesus may either be used alone or be inserted in the more or less developed phrases. . . . "The name of Jesus only is the most ancient mold of the invocation of the Name."35

Until the whole person, mind, soul and body can lose itself and at the same time comprehend the allness of God in one word, let us learn in all honesty to say: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner."



1From the Orthodox Catechism.
2Op. cit.
3"Orthodox Spirituality", by A Monk of the Eastern Church, p. 64.
4Op. cit., p. 66.
5Ibid, p. 66.
6Op. cit., p. 22.
7ibid.
8ibid.
9Op. Cit., pp. 30-31.
10Op. Cit., p. 24.
11Ibid.
12"Some Aspects of Contemporary Greek Thoughts", Frank Gavin, TOLD., Morehouse Publishing Co., New York & Milwaukee; 1923; p. 134.
13Op. cit., p. 134.
14Op. Cit., p. 395.
15Op. Cit., p. 408.
16Op. Cit., p. 408.
17Op. Cit., p. 367.
18The Orthodox Church, Sergius Bulgakov; Morehouse Pub. Co., p. 68.
19Op. Cit., p. 69.
20Op. Cit., p. 21.
21Op. Cit., p. 21.
22Op. Cit., p. 79.
23Orthodox Spirituality, p. 32.
24Ibid.
25Op. Cit., pp. 32, 33.
26Op. Cit., pp. 33, 34.
27The Orthodox Church, p. 146.
28Orthodox Spirituality, p. 35.
29The Orthodox Church, p. 138.
30Orthodox Spiritually, p. 35.
31The Orthodox Church, p. 144.
32From an address by Paul M. Fekula delivered at Cleveland, Ohio, on Orthodox Sunday (the first Sunday in Lent), 1953.
33The Reintegration of the Church, Nicholas Zernov.
34Ibid.
35On the Invocation of the Name of Jesus.



BIBLIOGRAPHY

THE REINTEGRATION OF THE CHURCH: Nicholas Zernov (SCM Press Ltd., London)

THE FAITH OF THE SAINTS (Cathechism of the Eastern Orthodox Church: Bishop Nicholai D. Velimirovich of the Serbian Orthodox Church)

ORTHODOX SPIRITUALITY: A Monk of the Eastern Church (Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius, London)

SOME ASPECTS OF CONTEMPORARY GREEK THOUGHT: Frank Gavin (Morehouse Publishing Co., New York & Milwaukee)

CHRISTIAN CHURCHES OF THE EAST: Donald Attwater (Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee)

SERBIAN ORTHODOX HERALD: St. Sava Monastery, Libertyville, Illinois; pp. 11-12

THE ORTHODOX CHURCH: Sergius Bulgakov (Morehouse Publishing Co., New York & Milwaukee)

ON THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME OF JESUS: A Monk of the Eastern Orthodox Church (Fellowship of St. Alban & St. Sergius, London)




BIBLIOGRAPHY

THE REINTEGRATION OF THE CHURCH: Nicholas Zernov (SCM Press Ltd., London)

THE FAITH OF THE SAINTS (Cathechism of the Eastern Orthodox Church: Bishop Nicholai D. Velimirovich of the Serbian Orthodox Church)

ORTHODOX SPIRITUALITY: A Monk of the Eastern Church (Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius, London)

SOME ASPECTS OF CONTEMPORARY GREEK THOUGHT: Frank Gavin (Morehouse Publishing Co., New York & Milwaukee)

CHRISTIAN CHURCHES OF THE EAST: Donald Attwater (Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee)

SERBIAN ORTHODOX HERALD: St. Sava Monastery, Libertyville, Illinois; pp. 11-12

THE ORTHODOX CHURCH: Sergius Bulgakov (Morehouse Publishing Co., New York & Milwaukee)

ON THE INVOCATION OF THE NAME OF JESUS: A Monk of the Eastern Orthodox Church (Fellowship of St. Alban & St. Sergius, London)

"JESUS": THE SHORTEST, SIMPLEST, AND MOST POWERFUL

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Peter Kreeft: Prayer for Beginners(click)
"Jesus": The Shortest, Simplest, and Most Powerful Prayer in the World


Its practice

I am now going to tell you about the shortest, simplest, and most powerful prayer in the world.
It is called the "Jesus Prayer", and it consists simply in uttering the single word "Jesus" (or "Lord Jesus", or "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner") in any situation, at any time and place, either aloud or silently.

There is only one prerequisite, one presupposition: that you are a Christian. If you have faith in Christ, hope in Christ, and love of Christ, you can pray the most powerful prayer in the world, because you have real contact with the greatest power in the universe: Christ himself, who assured us, in his last words to his apostles, that "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me" (Mt 28:18).

It is also the simplest of all prayers. It is not one of the many "methods", because it bypasses methods and cuts right to the heart of practicing God's presence, which is the essence of prayer, the secret of which has been given to us by God the Father. The secret is simply God the Son, God incarnate, the Lord Jesus.

1. Its simplicity and flexibility

As the Catechism says, "The invocation of the holy name of Jesus is the simplest way of praying always.... This prayer is possible 'at all times' because it is not one occupation among others but the only occupation: that of loving God, which animates and transfigures every action in Christ Jesus" (CCC 2668).

Because it is so short and simple, this prayer can be prayed literally at any time at all and at all times, even times when longer and more complex forms of prayer are not practical or even possible. This includes times of anguish, pain, or stress, and times of deep happiness and joy.

It can be used by everyone (and has been): by the rankest beginner and the most advanced saint. It is not only for beginners; the saints use it too. It is not "cheating" just because it is so short. For it will make you pray more, not less. This only sounds paradoxical, for one of the things Jesus reminds us to do, when we invoke him by name, is to pray more!

It is so simple that it is like the center point of a circle. It is the whole circle. It contains in itself the whole gospel. The Catechism says: "The name 'Jesus' contains all: God and man and the whole economy of creation and salvation" (CCC 2666). Into this name the Christian can pour all of his faith, with nothing whatsoever left over, for to be a Christian is to rest all of your faith on Christ, with nothing left over.

It is not only the shortest prayer but also the shortest and earliest creed. Twice the New Testament mentions this most basic of all the Christian creeds: the simple three-word sentence "Jesus is Lord" (I Cor 12:3) and the same creed in four words: "Jesus Christ is Lord" (Phil 2:11). It is also the most distinctively Christian creed, for "Lord" (Kyrios) means "God", and Christ's divinity and lordship over one's life is the distinctive, essential faith of Christians: no non-Christian believes that (if he did, he would be a Christian), and all Christians believe it (if they do not, they are not Christians) .

2. What it is not: Magic

Like any prayer, it "works", not by the power of some impersonal magic but by the power of personal faith and hope and love. It is like a sacrament in that way: it "works" objectively (ex opere operato), by the power of God's action, not ours; but it does not "work" without our free choice. It is like turning on a hose: the water comes to us, not from us, but it comes only when we choose to let it through.

The mere pronunciation of the name "Jesus" is not invoking him and is not prayer. A parrot could do that. God does not deal in magic, because magic bypasses the soul, especially the heart; it is like a machine. But God is a lover, and he wants our hearts, wants to transform our hearts, wants to live in our hearts.

Love is its own end. Magic, like technology, is always used as a means to some greater end. If you pray this prayer as a means, as a kind of magic or spiritual technology, then you are using it as you would use a machine or magic spell. What you love and desire is the higher end, the thing that the machine or magic spell gets you. But whatever that thing is, the love of things—of God's gifts instead of God—does not bring God closer; it pushes him farther away. So using this prayer as a kind of magic does exactly the opposite of what prayer is supposed to do.

When you pray this prayer, do not concentrate on the name, the word, the sound, or the letters. Do not think of the name but of Jesus. And do not try to meditate on scenes from the Gospels or truths from theology, or to imagine what Jesus looks like, as you do in some other forms of prayer. Just reach out to Jesus in blind faith. "The principal thing is to stand before God with the mind in the heart, and to go on standing before Him unceasingly day and night, until the end of life" (Bishop Theophan, quoted by Kallistos Ware in The Power of the Name: The Jesus Prayer in Orthodox Spirituality).

3. What it is not: Psychology

This prayer is not merely subjective, like a psychological device, any more than it is merely objective, like magic. It is not a sort of Christian yoga. It is not meditation. Its purpose is not to transform our consciousness and make us mystics, or to bring inner peace, or to center on our own heart. Whether these things are good or bad, these things are not what this prayer is for.

For all these things are subjective, inside the human soul; but this prayer is dialogue, relationship, reaching out to another person, to Jesus, God made man, invoking him as your savior, lover, lord, and God. You have faith and hope in him as your savior; you love him as your lover; you obey him as your lord; you adore him as your God.

In this prayer our attention is not directed inward, into our own consciousness, but only out onto Jesus. Even when we address Jesus living in our own soul, he is not self but other; he is Lord of the self.

Yet, although our intention in this prayer is not to transform our consciousness, this prayer does transform our consciousness. How? It unifies it. Our usual consciousness is like an unruly, stormy sea, or like a flock of chattering monkeys, or a cage of butterflies, or a hundred little bouncing balls of mercury spilled from a fever thermometer. We cannot gather it together. Only God can, for God is the Logos. One of the meanings of this incredibly rich word in ancient Greek, the word given to the eternal, divine, pre-incarnate Christ, is "gathering-into-one". When we pray this prayer and invoke Jesus the Logos, Jesus the Logos acts and does in fact unify our consciousness. But this is not what we aim at; we aim at him. The unification of our consciousness happens in us (slowly and subtly and sweetly) only when we forget ourselves in him. This is one of the ways "he who loses his self shall find it."

Repetition of the holy name conditions our unconscious mind to see this name as normal, as central, and to expect him to be present and active, as a dog is conditioned by his master to see its master as central and to expect its master to be present and active. Do we train our dogs but not our own unconscious minds?

You may object, "But this sounds like a magic spell or a mantra: something not rational." In a sense it is (though not in the sense repudiated above). Do you not know that black magic can be overcome only by white magic, not by reason? And our culture's secularism and materialism is a powerful spell of black magic. It makes us judge Jesus by its standards instead of judging it by his standards, because it makes us see Jesus as abnormal and our culture as normal; to see Jesus as a questionable, tiny thing surrounded by an unquestionable, greater thing, namely, our culture. This is a cosmic illusion! Invoking the holy name builds up resistance to that illusion. That is not black magic; it is not itself an illusion but sheer realism. Jesus is everywhere and everywhen and the ultimate meaning of everything. This prayer in deed conditions us, but it conditions us to know reality.

4. What it is: Power

"The kingdom of God does not consist in talk but in power", says Saint Paul (1 Cor 4:20). The reason this prayer is so powerful is that the name of Jesus is not just a set of letters or sounds. It is not a passive word but a creative word, like the word by which God created the universe. (He is the Word by which God created the universe!) Every time we receive Christ in the Eucharist, we are instructed by the liturgy to pray, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed." All our energy and effort is not strong enough to heal our own souls, but God's word of power is. That word is so powerful that by it God made the universe out of nothing, and by it he is doing the even greater deed of making saints out of sinners. That word is Jesus Christ.

In most ancient societies, a person's name was treated, not as a mere artificial label for pragmatic purposes of human communication, but as a truth, a sign of the person's unique identity. Revealing your name was thus an act of intimate personal trust, like a handshake. A handshake originally meant: "See? I bear no weapon. You can trust me." It is a little like your P.I.N. today.

In all of human history, God revealed his own true name, his eternal name, only to one man—Moses—and only to one people—the Hebrews, his own "chosen people"—and only at one time—at the burning bush (Ex 3). This name was the secret no philosopher or mystic had ever attained, the very essence of God, the nature of ultimate reality: "I AM."

But then, many centuries later, God did an even greater thing; he revealed a new name in Jesus ("Savior"). This is now the most precious name in the world.
It is a golden key. It opens all doors, transforms all corners of our lives. But we do not use this golden key, and doors remain locked. In fact, our society is dying because it has turned the most precious name in the world, the name of its Savior, into a casual curse word.

Even Muslims respect the holy name of Jesus more than Christians do, in practice: they commonly add "blessed be he" every time they pronounce it.
In the Acts of the Apostles (3:1-10), Peter and John heal a man lame from birth when they say, "In the name of Jesus Christ, walk." Throughout the history of the Church and the lives of the saints, many such miracles of healing have been done "in his name". Exorcisms are performed "in his name". The name of Jesus is so powerful that it can knock the devil out of a soul!

The name of Jesus is our salvation. John ends his Gospel with this summary: "These [things] are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name" (Jn 20:31, emphasis added). "The name of Jesus Christ" is not only the key to power-filled prayer but the key to our salvation. So we had better understand it! What does the phrase "in the name of Jesus Christ" mean?

Suppose you are poor, but your father is rich. When you try to cash a check for half a million dollars in your own name, you will get only a laugh from the bank. But if the check is in your father's name, you will get the money. Our Father in Heaven gave us unlimited grace in the "account" of Jesus Christ and then put us "into Christ", inserted us into his family, so that we can use the family name, so to speak, to cash checks on the account of divine grace. Saint Paul tells us that our account is unlimited: "My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus" (Phil 4:19). Jesus himself first assured us of this wonderful truth, which we find hard to believe because it seems too good to be true, and then he explained why it is true:
Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. What man of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! 
(Mt 7:7-I I).
If even we love our children so much that we do not settle for anything less than the very best for them, why do we think God loves his children less?

5. What it is: Real presence

It is probably a very good exercise to practice "the imitation of Christ", to walk "in his steps", to ask "What would Jesus do?" in all circumstances. But the prayer we are teaching now is even better, for two reasons. First, invoking his name invokes his real presence, not mental imitation; something objective, not subjective; between us and him, not just in us. Second, it is actual, not potential; indicative, not subjunctive; "What is Jesus doing?" rather than "What would Jesus do?"

To invoke Jesus' name is to place yourself in his presence, to open yourself to his power, his energy, The prayer of Jesus' name actually brings God closer, makes him more present. He is always present in some way, since he knows and loves each one of us at every moment; but he is not present to those who do not pray as intimately as he is present to those who do. Prayer makes a difference; "prayer changes things." It may or may not change our external circumstances. (It does if God sees that that change is good for us; it does not if God sees that it is not.) But it always changes our relationship to God, which is infinitely more important than external circumstances, however pressing they may seem, because it is eternal but they are temporary, and because it is our very self but they are not.

6. What it is: Grace

In saying it brings God closer, I do not mean to say that it changes God. It changes us. But it does not just make a change within us, a psychological change; it makes a change between us and God, a real, objective change. It changes the real relationship; it increases the intimacy. It is as real as changing your relationship to the sun by going outdoors. When we go outdoors into the sun, we do not move the sun closer to us, we move ourselves closer to the sun. But the difference it makes is real: we can get warmed only when we stand in the sunlight—and in the Sonlight.

When this happens, it is not merely something we do but something God does in us. It is grace, it is his action; our action is to enter into his action, as a tiny stream flows into a great river.
His coming is, of course, his gift, his grace. The vehicle by which he comes is also his grace: it is Jesus himself. And the gift he gives us in giving us his blessed name to invoke is also his grace. So, therefore, his coming to us in power on this vehicle, this name, is also pure grace. Even our remembering to use this vehicle, this name, is his grace. As Saint Therese said, "Everything is a grace."

7. What it is: Sacramental

The Catechism says: "To pray 'Jesus' is to invoke him and to call him within us. His name is the only one that contains the presence it signifies" (CCC 2666). In other words, it is sacramental.
God comes to us on his name like a king on his stallion. When we pray to the Father in Jesus' name, we provide God with a vehicle to come to us— or, rather, we use the vehicle God has provided for us. We do not initiate, we respond; we respond to his grace by using the gift of his name that he gave us and told us to use; and he responds to our obedience by doing what he promised: actually coming.

This is the definition of a sacrament: a sign instituted by Christ to give grace and a sign that actually effects what it signifies. Jesus himself is the primary sacrament. So the believing Christian's use of Jesus' name is sacramental. The very act of praying "Jesus" effects what it signifies, brings about what the name "Jesus" signifies, which is "Savior", or "God saves". That is the literal meaning, in Hebrew, of the name God commanded Joseph to give to Mary's son: "You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins" (Mt 1:21).

A name is not a machine, for a person is not a machine. The name of a person must be personally "involved" (that is, called upon) in faith and hope and love, as a human father is "invoked" by his son in Jesus' parable in Matthew 7. But though it is not a machine, it really "works": when a son calls to his father, "Dad!" the father actually comes. Why? Suppose we were to ask the father. His answer would be obvious: "Because that's my son!" The same is true of our relationship to God now that Christ has made us God's children and his brothers. No stranger can call a human being "Dad", and no stranger can be sure that a man will come if he calls him only by his "proper name", for example, "Mr. Smith". But Mr. Smith's son can be sure his dad will come because his son can invoke him under the name "Dad", as no one else can. Jesus has made it possible for us to do the same with God. In fact, the name he taught us to call God is "Abba", which is the Hebrew word, not just for "Father", but for "Dad", or "Daddy", or even "Dada". It is the word of ultimate intimacy.

You may think the claim that invoking his name actually brings about his presence is an arrogant one. But in fact it is a humble one, because it is obeying his design, not initiating our own.

Or you may think, "What right do we have to think he will come whenever we call? Is he a dog?" No, he is a lover.

8. What it is: Sacred

The fact that this holy name of Jesus actually brings about the presence of God explains why God gave us, as the second of all his commandments, "You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain" (Ex 20:7). In the Old Testament, the self-revealed name of God was YHWH, in Hebrew: a name is always written without the vowels because it was forbidden to pronounce it, since it meant "I AM", or "I AM WHO AM", and to pronounce that name is to claim to bear it. You can pronounce any other name, like "Ivan" or "Mary" or "Hey, You" without claiming to be the person who bears that name; there is only one name that you cannot say in the second person (you) or the third person (he or she), and that is "I". Thus no Jew ever dared to pronounce that holy name, or even guess how the vowels were supposed to be pronounced, because it could be truly spoken only by God himself. That is why the Jews tried to execute Jesus for blasphemy when he pronounced it in his own name (Jn 8:58).

And that is also why Jesus commanded us to pray to the Father, as the very first petition of the model prayer he taught (which we call the Lord's Prayer, or the Our Father) "Hallowed be thy name" (Mt 6:9). For we actually bring about and fulfill what we pray for when we call on the holy name of Jesus. We bring his presence and his mercy down from Heaven to earth, so to speak. Thus it is blasphemy to treat this holy name like any other name, because it has a holy power unlike any other power
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9. Its practice

I will tell you a little bit from my own experience about what I think will happen when you use this prayer. For I have tried many other, more complex, and more abstract ways to pray, and I have found them all less effective than this most childlike of all ways.

Perhaps the most shattering consequence of his real presence, which is brought about by invoking his name, is that we become unable to lie to ourselves any more. He is light, and wherever he inserts his lordship there is now an absolute necessity of honesty and a zero tolerance for any form of self-deception, self-congratulation, or self gratification, even those forms that felt necessary, natural, and almost innocent before. He is gentle, but he is light, and he simply does not and will not coexist with any darkness at all; either he casts it out, or it keeps him out.

This is the negative dimension of the fact that he is light. He subtracts our falsehoods. But he also adds his truth. The positive dimension is essentially a clarification of vision, of perspective, of "the big picture". He does not (usually) give specific directions or instant solutions, but he always gives a clarification of our vision. (This usually happens gradually.)
Thus there is a positive side to even the negative point made above. For instance, he makes us men see how flawed and mixed our motives are even in such natural and spontaneous things as a look into the face of a beautiful woman. (Half of all the women in the world are beautiful to men, nearly all are beautiful when they smile, and all are beautiful all the time to God.) We find that there is something in this look that is his, and also something that is not from him but is from the world, the flesh, or the Enemy.

And yet this insight does not bring about a guilty despair but a happy humility. For it is a sign of his presence. He is the standard. When the plumb line is present, apparently straight lines show their inclination. And this is, of course, upsetting (how easily our lines incline!), but much more is it a cause of joy (it is he!). As John Wesley said, "The best thing is, God is with us." Once we realize that, we have the secret of joy: simply to do all that is from his will with joy, because he is there, and what is not from his will do not do.

And when his light and our darkness, his straight and our crooked, are thus brought into relationship and warfare, we gain rather than lose, even if it is upsetting. It is like bringing in the Roto-Rooter man: the garbage becomes visible, but it also becomes removable. Before his light came in, our sin was just as much present but undetected. But he was not just as much present. So that is a gain. Furthermore, he is stronger than sin; he exorcises sin more than sin exorcises him. All we have to do is to give him a chance. Open the blinds, and light casts out darkness every time.

This new sense of vision or perspective that invoking his name brings about is most sharply perceived when we invoke his name upon our problems and complaints. The wordless message I seem to get most frequently is something like this: "There are things that are infinitely more important for you than these little problems. They are all little compared to me. In fact, most of what you think of as your problems are in fact your opportunities—opportunities for the really important thing, the 'one thing needful', your relationship with me. So get on with it. You don't have much more time." He is surprisingly brisk and unsentimental.   He is a no-nonsense God.

Perhaps the most definite and ubiquitous sign of his real presence, and the clearest difference between the times when I invoke his name and the times when I do not, is the state of quiet, calm alertness that he brings. Usually, I am either calm or alert, not both. When I am calm, I am relaxed and ready for sleep; when I am alert, I am worried or agitated and ready for problems. His peace, however, is not sleepiness, and his alertness is not anxiety.

His presence manifests itself, not in fire or wind or thunder, but in a still, small voice. Only in this quietness does he give us the certainty of his presence. We usually cannot hear this because we are making so much inner noise, especially when we are agitated. But this is when he wants most to come, for he goes where the need is.

And what happens when we invoke him during our agitation? He answers! But not by magic or spectacle. Nothing spectacular happens when I invoke the holy name at times when I am reacting to my problems by the "fight-or-flight response" that is so natural to our animal nature (that is, either by the "fight" of inner rage and resentment or by the "flight" of self-pity and fantasizing). At such times, when I pray his name, I do not suddenly feel holy or happy, but I do suddenly feel ... well, "mature" is the only word that comes to mind. The word from the Word is often something like "Grow up!" I suddenly see that far more important things are at stake than my feelings, when I let his great wave come in and wash my little garbage away. What had looked big on my beach looks tiny in his waves.

We do not always get specific answers, even when we invoke his name; but we always get the Answerer. It is better to have his authority for "no answer" than our authority for ours. When I am in the middle of some garbage, he gives me no answer to my questions "Why did you put me here?" or "How do I solve it?", but he gives me instead an answer to another question: "Who? " It is he. That is his answer: himself. The real question is: "Who's there?" And the answer is in Matthew 14:27.

We always start our sentences with "I". We unconsciously play God. He teaches us to see our "I" as surrounded by him instead of vice versa. He is no longer an ingredient in our experience; we are ingredients in his. We are actors in his play; he is not an actor in ours, not even the most important actor.

Let me give you a small example of the positive side to this "sense of perspective" that we get from invoking his name. The other day he reminded me to speak his name while I was painting an unimportant piece of porch wood, and I suddenly saw that what I was doing was not just painting a porch but painting a portrait, myself, I was walking Home to him. Each brush stroke was a small step to Heaven. Heaven was here in this old porch, too. For all beauty, even this tiny bit of it that I was making, is his, is like him; beauty is one of the things he is, and all earthly beauty is a sunbeam of his sun. I remembered the story of two men hauling stones through a muddy medieval street. One was cursing and the other was singing. A traveler asked them what they were doing. The curser replied, "I'm trying to get this damned rock to roll through this damned mud!" The singer replied, "I'm building a cathedral."

Is there any downside to this prayer? What is the main problem with this prayer?

Simply remembering to do it. This is embarrassing, because this forgetting is so foolish. Why do we forget? Clearly this forgetting is not merely a mental problem. There are mental blocks to remembering. Something in us fears remembering. And I think we all know what that is.

When we do remember and call him, and he comes and acts, he does all the work, for free! Our part is only to call; the Great Physician makes house calls and charges nothing. And yet we continually fail to call him. Is this reasonable?

The solution to this "forgetting" is not in our power but his. In order to receive, we must ask for the grace of remembering to ask. And for the grace to trust him with our thoughts as well as with our lives. He is the Master also of our miserable memories. A thought comes into our mind when he says, "Come!" and leaves when he says "Go!" He is the centurion, our thoughts are his soldiers. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.

THE ISLE OF SALVATION

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my source: pravoslavie.ru
Why people from all over Russia and even from abroad go to the village of Florovskoe in Yaroslavl region to see Priest Sergiy Vishnevsky.


“Tell me…” Sergiy Fedorovich trustingly brought his face near to the priest sitting next to his bed. “I am constantly beset with doubt… You are the only one I can trust… There is something about you—that can only be trusted. Tell me firmly and honestly: Is there a God, or not?” “There is,” Fr. Sergiy answered quietly but firmly and without a shadow of a doubt.

Fr. Sergiy Vishnevsky. Photo: Vladimir Eshtokin
“Well, that’s good,” just as quietly replied the ailing man. “You and I are both old men, why should we lie to each other, right? What year were you born?”

“’Twenty-six.”

“And I was born in ’twenty.”

“And we are both Sergiy”


“Yes, and we have the same name. So, you say, there is… Now I will firmly believe. Like you.”

This conversation took place in 1994 in the home of the great Russian film producer, Sergiy Fedorovich Bondarchuk not long before his death. His wife, actress Irina Konstantinovna Skobsteva, had asked the priest, Fr. Sergiy Vishnevsky to come and talk with her husband. That was the conversation so important for Sergiy Fedorovich’s final days.

Before Bondarchuk’s departure to a better world, Hieromonk Tikhon (Shevkunov) (now Archimandrite), the Father Superior of the what was then the Pskov-Caves Monastery metochion, came to hear his confession. Fr. Tikhon is now the abbot of Sretensky Monastery in Moscow. In his recent book, Everday Saints and Other Stories, he describes this meeting in the story “About one Man’s Christian repose”.

Fr. Sergiy was no longer in Moscow; he had returned to Yaroslavl region, to the village of Florovskoe, where he was restoring his grandfather’s church and living next to it, forever abandoning the safety of Moscow life.

Florovskoe is located somewhere midway between Uglich and Rybinsk, a few kilometers to the east of the right bank of the Volga by the town of Myshkin. Everyone who comes for the first time to these backwaters surrounded by swamps is involuntarily surprised to see this enormous, two-story church—after all, Florovskoe is no more than a few houses, and the neighboring villages are also sparsely inhabited. But that is not how it has always been. In the nineteenth century, life was humming here, and there were more villages. The church of Sts. Florus and Laurus in the Bolsheselsky region of Yaroslavl province was built on the site where an icon of the Mother of God once miraculously appeared. According to local tradition, members of the court of Catherine the Great had come to gather berries in this area famous for its especially flavorful cranberries, and became lost in the swamps. Night fell. In desperation the lost courtiers began to pray, and after a little while saw a light at the top of a tree, radiating from an icon that appeared there. They made their way toward that light, found their carriages, and were saved. In memory of this event a magnificent church with five cupolas and a bell tower was built. A village grew around the church.

Restoration work on the church has been going on for more than twenty years through the efforts of Fr. Sergiy Vishnevsky. During the first years he lived there, Fr. Sergiy dreamed that people would come, settle there, revive the village, build a parish school on the site of the old one, of which only the overgrown foundation remained. His dreamer’s zeal dampened noticeably, but that did not mean that batiushka allowed despair to creep into his soul. At eighty years of age, Fr. Sergiy was still hale and spry, and full of the joy of life. When you come to visit him, you are immediately infected with an amazing joy that radiates from him and fills your soul and body with strength, health, and the desire to carry on.

Fr. Sergiy’s grandfather on his mother’s side, Priest Nicholai Dobronravov, was once the rector of the church of Sts. Florus and Laurus. He is buried there in the churchyard, near the altar.

Sergiy Nicholaevich Vishnevsky was born on January 1, 1926 to a military family. He says of his background: “I am proud to have been born in the Yaroslavl region—in the very heart of Russia—and everything good in me was bestowed upon me by my ancestors and my homeland.”

Despite the fact that both his mother’s and father’s family were of the clergy class, his father considered himself an atheist; he rejected Orthodoxy, and if he had not died early he would certainly have opposed his son’s desire to follow in his ancestor’s footsteps and become a priest. Little Serezha was nevertheless teased in his childhood: “Sergiy is a deacon, Sergiy is a priest, Sergiy is an old felt boot!”

He learned to read at an early age. In the village where his mother worked, there was a huge library in the house were the priest lived, and having read all the books in his own home, Sergiy made use of the books in the library of the kindhearted priest, Fr. John Skvortsov. As “payment”, Fr. John required that the boy learn all the main prayers. When Fr. John died, his children came to his funeral and gave the eager young reader a whole trunk full of books.

After finishing school, Sergiy Nicholaevich studied to be a lathe turner at a trade school in Nizhny Novgorod. During his first years at Florovskoe he always regretted never learning the trades that would have come in handy in restoring the church, such as roofing, stove-building, masonry, and painting.

In 1943 he was conscripted into the army, but was never at the front, although he wrote many requests to go there. He served in the reserves near Vyatka. His recollections of military service were not happy. In the reserves there was unbearable hunger, and the rations were pitiful. Everyone wanted to go to the front—they wanted to fight, and the frontline rations were much better. On February 23, 1944, the medical commission found private Vishnevsky to be dystrophic; he weighed only 32 kilos (70 pounds). He was sent to the recovery battalion for wounded soldiers, where they were better fed.

Right after the war he entered the newly-opened pastoral theological courses at Novodevichy monastery. Soon the courses were renamed a theology school, and then a seminary. The entire class, which was divided into two sections, consisted of twenty men. After seminary, Fr. Sergiy dreamed of returning to Yaroslavl region to be a rural priest in the tradition of his ancestors, but the seminary teachers, persuaded him to enter the theological academy. During his third year at the academy he married a girl from a pious family. Alexandra Alexeyevna became his lifetime faithful friend, and gave him four sons. All of their sons became priests when they grew up, and one of them, also Fr. Sergiy, serves in Yaroslavl province.

After graduating from the academy, Fr. Sergiy was appointed auxiliary priest at the church of the Resurrection in the Sokolniki district of Moscow. The “temporary” appointment continued for fifteen years. They were the most difficult years of his life. One son after another was born—Pavel in 1953, Sergiy in 1954, and Misha in 1957. They lived on very meager means. After the brief thaw toward the Church under Stalin came the rabid atheist Khruschev, who swore he would show the last Russian priest on television. In Moscow the churches were no longer destroyed, but the clergy were always being burdened with new taxes. Sixty percent of all income was supposed to be given to the government. Out of 750 pre-reform rubles, clergymen saw only 300. That would now be like earning 20,000 (665 USD) but receiving only 8,000 (265 USD). Is it possible for a family of five to live on that? The authorities intended to smother faith in Christ with taxes.

“My children received no more than one piece of candy each on Sundays, in order to make that day special and different from the rest.”

Those who were the most steadfast and fortified in their love for the Savior remained in Orthodoxy. Fr. Sergiy recalls how on great feast days Khruschev’s zealots of atheism would come to church and create a crush; during the Liturgy they would start rocking the crowd of parishioners, laughing wildly.

“One time I jumped out and nearly fought with them—that is what it came to!”

The police authorities also watched the priests untiringly. The priests would joke, “Christ had twelve disciples and one of them was a betrayer, but we have about two informers for every twelve.”

“One day,” recalls Fr. Sergiy, “I was called into the district executive committee, taken to a separate room, and seated one on one with a very unpleasant man who said to me, “Sergiy Nicholaevich, either you will write us detailed reports on anti-Soviet conversations among priests, or we will publish an article in the newspapers about how you live a life of luxury and bought a refrigerator; by far not everyone has one.” I answered, “I will not write any reports, and I am not afraid of articles in the papers. My parishioners respect me, they all know how poor I am, and I bought a used refrigerator on the cheap.”

At the end of his “temporary” assignment, batiushka was transferred to the church of Sts. Peter and Paul in Lefortovo with the duties of rector. He studied in graduate school at the same time. Khruschev’s retirement did not bring relief to the Church right away. Recalling the 1960’s, Fr. Sergiy says that he had no more than three rubles per day to feed his entire family. Only in the 70’s and 80’s did the life of a priest get a little better. Servants of the Church were equated with government workers. In 1970, a fourth son, Volodya, arrived in the Vishnevsky family.

From 1967–70, Fr. Sergiy studied in the graduate school of the Moscow Theological Academy. The theme of his dissertation was “Metropolitan Platon (Levshin) as a Preacher.” Graduating with him were the future Metropolitan of Vyatka and Slobodskoy, Chrisanth (Chepel), who died in 2011, and the well known theologian, teacher, publicist, and professor of the Moscow Theological Academy, Alexei Ilych Osipov.

After the church of Sts. Peter and Paul, Fr. Sergiy served three years in the church of St. Nicholas in Khamovniki. Then he became rector of the church of the Resurrection on Nezhdanov St. (now Briusov Lane), where he served for over six years, and then he became rector of the church at the Piatnitsky cemetery.

“With each year, even before Gorbachev came to power, the relationship toward us became better and better,” he recalls about the 70’s and 80’s. Even the KGB agents talked to us in a completely different way. Twice a year, on the eve of May 1 and before November 7, they would summon us only to give us instructions on talking to foreigners and journalists should they ask us about the Soviet government’s relationship to the Church. My last “supervisor” was a KGB agent named Alexander Igorevich Makarov. I gave him an icon; later he became a believer, and now he is a regular parishioner at the church of the Nativity of Christ in Ismailova, a general in the FSB.

In 1983, Fr. Sergiy nearly ended up in San Francisco, where they wanted him to serve at the church of St. Nicholas. The appointment did not take place, however. Metropolitan Philaret (Bachromeyev) of Minsk wanted to console him, asking forgiveness that it turned out that way. Fr. Sergiy replied happily, “Why, Vladyko! I am glad! I would probably have been happy there for a half a year, no more! Then I would have sat down by the Ocean, looked out toward matushka Russia and sobbed.”

In 1984, Fr. Sergiy was transferred to one of the best Moscow parishes—the church of the Mother of God of the Sign, near the Riga train station. This was his final Moscow church. All four of Fr. Sergiy’s sons became priests. Pavel graduated from the seminary, academy, and graduate school; Sergiy wanted to work as a car mechanic when he was a boy and Mikhail wanted to join the military, but in the final analysis they both became priests. Archbishop Christopher (Pulets) of Prague took Vladimir to serve with him, and then ordained him a priest.

At the end of 1990, when all the children were settled, Fr. Sergiy decided to realize the dream of his youth—to become a rural batiushka. Leaving his parish in Moscow, he moved to Florovskoe. He had been to visit his grandfather’s church three years earlier. Seeing the abomination of desolation, he shuddered and understood that he would soon be moving there. He told the parishioners about his dream, and out of love for their priest they donated funds to restore the church of Sts. Florus and Laurus. One of the first to do so was Galina Eliseyevna Struchkova. Now it has been over seventeen years since she herself moved to Florovskoe, helping Fr. Sergiy at home and in church, singing and reading. She has taken on all the work of the garden and animals—chickens, geese, and goats.

Fr. Sergiy and Matushka Alexandra gave all their means to the restoration of the church. He received the church with a ruined roof, the carcasses of cupolas, and a completely looted iconostasis. In those days, when icons became fashionable, they were driven away by the truckload. The lower winter church was filled with water in spring, summer and fall, the condensation of which almost entirely destroyed the wall and ceiling paintings. There was much work to do in the church itself and in the churchyard, which was overgrown with weeds. But Fr. Sergiy rejoiced, because there he felt closer to God.

In 1998, “Radonezh” studios created a video called “Island of Orthodoxy”. There is an annotation on the cover:

“The Ocean roars, the abyss of the passions swallows you up, and destruction is inescapable… But at the last minute you see an Island. Salvation! There you don’t hear the breaking surf, and the sun warms your freezing body. Where is this Island?”

The film contains several scenes from such an Island—the Greek monasteries of Meteora, the Montreal wonder-working icon of the Mother of God, Fr. Nicholai Guryanov of Zalit Island, and the church in Florovskoe, with Fr. Sergiy’s first winter there. You can see church’s the sorrowful condition. But now, compared to 1990, it is an entirely different picture. The church is restored and magnificent.

When people heard that the church of Florus and Laurus was reopened, they began to come more and more often from the neighboring areas; they helped clean up the cemetery and repair the building. Gradually batiushka built two small guesthouses and a bathhouse; he started raising goats, chickens, and geese.

However, not everyone came with good intentions. One would come to ask for drink, another to steal something. In 1994, during Great Lent, two robbers broke into the house during the night with pneumatic pistols, tied up batiushka, searched for a non-existent icon that was supposedly covered with diamonds, and beat Fr. Sergiy on the head with a pistol butt to torture it out of him—where is the icon? Not finding it, they took some old icons and left. Only later did Fr. Sergiy figure it out: Once he was shown on television, and behind him was a reproduction of an icon of the Mother of God in a precious, Fabergé frame with diamonds and rubies. That is what the “icon-lovers” were looking for! But during the robbery a small miracle occurred: When Fr. Sergiy asked one of the robbers his name in order to know who he should he pray for, the thief whispered his name… Perhaps someday he will return and fall to his knees before the iconostasis and that very man who holds the cross in his hands—as one man did on Pascha, 1998, when he came to repent:

“Batiushka! Forgive my sin! When I was little, I misbehaved here, in the church. It was empty then. I broke open some coffin or other… Let me work for the church—to make amends for my sin!”

So much has happened during these twenty odd years Fr. Sergiy has spent in Florovskoe.

There was the Dane, for example, who after hearing about Fr. Sergiy from his son, came to live in Florovskoe for long periods at a time. Young people seeking the light helped the priest with his domestic chores, humbly fulfilling all his requests. They felt that there was more of God in little Florovskoe than in all of Denmark.

One former alcoholic lived in Florovskoe for about ten years; he quit drinking, and began to seek God. He had tried different religions and found Orthodoxy, then came and settled in a small parish house next to Fr. Sergiy’s. He helped the priest in the church. All seemed to be going well, but then one not very fine day he came to batiushka and said, “I should be in charge here in Florovskoe, and you get in my way. At times I get the urge to kill you with an axe and then drown myself!”

Fr. Sergiy grieved, but did not do anything, only prayed. However, when this man lost his reason and burned two houses in Florovskoe, he had to take him to a psychiatric hospital.

“I feel sorry for him. He is a good man, only not in his right mind. Alas, that creature with the horns and tail just does not leave us alone!” Fr. Sergiy sighs.

But mainly those who come to Florovskoe are bright, truly religious people who understand what light comes from the priest of the church of Sts. Florus and Laurus.

Every trip to Fr. Sergiy is a small miracle. The night before, inertia often weighs us down and we just want to stay in Moscow. But as soon as we get to the station and board the train, we feel so light and easy. We fly to Florovskoe as on wings.

Although, it is not so easy to get there. First you have to go to Yaroslavl, then take a bus to Novoe Selo, and from there you can either wait several hours for another bus, or walk twelve kilometers. If you are lucky there will be a car going there, but no matter how you get there, your soul verily sings.

No matter who you ask in Moscow clergy circles, everyone knows about Fr. Sergiy—and not only the clergy. He has baptized many writers and their children. He blessed the offices of one periodical, Our Contemporary, which he loves to read.

Fr. Sergiy also took on the care of a small church in the village of Leontievsky that was built in the nineteenth century with the money of one peasant serf. Apparently, the peasants not only didn’t suffer under serfdom, but were even able to build a church now and then! This little church came alive under the patronage of Fr. Sergiy.

Fr. Sergiy’s sermons are remarkable. “People ask me, ‘How often should we go to church? Can we go once a week, or even once a month?’ I answer them, ‘You can stop going altogether. Just like that! Don’t go at all. Live your life without the Church, die, and you’ll go to hell. Then you’ll find yourself there, next to Hitler. You’ll be forever next to him. But just think about it: eternally! In hell. With Hitler.’”

A deep silence reigns in the church. The quiet continues for a minute. Fr. Sergiy gives the parishioners some time to think about it. His expression is stern, as if he were seeing for the first time how terrible it is for the sinner in hell—especially side-by-side with Hitler… Suddenly, his face is illumined by a ray of joy and hope, and his trembling voice, only a moment ago angry, sounds silvery with this joy.

“But if anyone wants to be forever in paradise, next to Alexander Vasilievich Suvorov, I’ll say to him: welcome to God’s church!”

Fr. Sergiy’s sermon is brief as usual, but it penetrates to the heart. He has already come out of the altar with the cross, for veneration. The parishioners approach and kiss the glittering crucifix he holds in his hands…

When Fr. Sergiy became eighty, he said, “Well, now I am eighty. I feel that old age is coming on.”

The Lord gives him strength, and his stamina is amazing. He sleeps no more than three or four hours a night and an hour in the afternoon—that is all. After all, there is so much in life that needs to be done—to see, read, and most important—to serve God.

At eighty-four, Fr. Sergiy confessed to his parishioners after the Liturgy, “Not long ago I felt very bad. I thought I would die. I asked the heavenly powers, ‘Can’t I have about three or four more years?’ I recounted all the things left on the list. Well, it looks as though my request was granted.”

Original from Столетие.Ru.


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