What’s Caught My Eye…

Why don’t we encourage sufferers to aim for joy? Perhaps we think of suffering and joy as a two-step process, as if what we see in Psalm 126:5-6—We go out weeping and return with shouts of joy—is the only pattern. This view sees suffering and joy as fundamentally incompatible and unable to be experienced simultaneously. But that can’t be true. Scripture indicates that life in the age of the Spirit will have the hardest suffering and the greatest joy—and both can be experienced at the same time. The Apostle Paul illustrated this as one of the many of the implications of the gospel: “in all our affliction, I am overflowing with joy” (2 Cor. 7:4).

This means that even when we are in pain, we can go in search of joy with the expectation that it will, indeed, find and surprise us. Think about the end of war and enemies defeated (1 Chron. 16:33, Ps. 27:6), water in the desert (Is. 35:6), how the Lord delights in the welfare of his servants (Ps. 35:27), how the Lord comforts his people (Is. 49:13), how the Father, Son and Spirit take joy in each other and, through Jesus, we are brought into that joy (John 15:11). Think about how forgiveness of sins has secured for us all the promises of God, which are summarized in his unceasing presence with us. This presence, and the future glory of seeing him face-to-face, is to be at the very center of our joy.

But in this search we still have a problem. The prevailing treatment and dominant metaphor today for alleviating pain is medication. We take a pill and wait for it to be effective. We give the treatment limited time to show its worth before we move on to a new prescription. Joy does not follow this pattern. It does not come quickly. In fact, if we expect quick results, we are not actually seeking joy and it will never come. Joy does counterbalance pain, but that is a side effect of joy rather than its goal.

Read the whole thing here: The Hard Pairing of Suffering and Joy.

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Losing our religion?

Source GazetteXtra.

Michael Gerson,a columnist for the Washington Post Writers Group, observes that:

According to Pew, 74 percent of the nones grew up in a religious tradition of some sort. Yet while conversion has increased the ranks of the nones, retention is not particularly good. Protestantism, for example, loses about 20 percent of those raised Protestants. Of those raised unaffiliated, 40 percent fall away from the nonfaith and rebel toward religion, making for a new generation of awkward Thanksgivings.

While I might fiddle with the numbers a bit, this certainly has been my experience in the Orthodox Church. The Church is also suffering from the “declining trust in religious institutions since the 1990s.” This isn’t limited to religion but

…has been accompanied by declining trust in most institutions (with the notable exception of the military). Confidence in government and big business has simultaneously fallen—and the public standing of both is lower than that of the church. Americans may be less affiliated with religious organizations because they have grown generally more individualistic and skeptical of authority.

If I were to hazard a guess, it’s because whatever it is they do, Christians typically don’t invite young people (or anyone else for that matter) to become friends of Jesus AND His disciples. Like the larger culture, the Orthodox Church seem to be raising the next generation of “nones” precisely because we have failed to foster friendship, much less discipleship, among in our own parishes.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

h/t: Mirror of Justice

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Informality. Formality and Spiritual Formation: More Thoughts from CAPS

Friday afternoon at CAPS I sat in a plenary session by Saul Cruz entitled “Hope and Healing through Care and Counsel to the Suffering in the World.” Together with his wife Pilar, Saul is co-director of Armonia Ministries. Together this husband and wife team ministry heir to the poor communities in both urban and rural areas in Mexico. Saul is by profession a psychologist and family therapist, and has also been a university lecturer.

Unfortunately because I had to take care of details for a funeral in my parish back in Canton, I was in and out of the presentation. One thing I did hear was the presenters argument that (I'm quoting from my notes):

Transformation require NOT that I solve your problem, but rather help you accept RESPONSIBILITY for your own life. In this process, I promise to walk along side you—but I cannot replace you in your own life. For example, if a mother brings me her children, I can't raise her children for her—I can't become their mother—but I can offer to help her accept and bear her responsibility for her own children.

The fruit if this approach (again, quoting my notes on the speaker's presentation) is that “not only is the other person transformed, but I am transformed with them.”

Thinking about the informal approach popular among Evangelical Christians, I wonder, if something similar might be necessary with Orthodox missionary activity especially here in the US. My reason for asking this is that so few Americans have much background that lends itself to the Gospel in its fullness.

Unlike the New Testament and early patristic era, we seem to lack (or maybe more accurately, devalue) the great cultural touchstones of the ancient world, moral law and philosophy, that someone like St Justin Martyr saw as the two great preparations for Jewish and Greek acceptance of the Gospel. Large segments of those we would reach out to have little, if any, appreciation for philosophical reasoning (and indeed, this would include not a few Orthodox Christians among both the laity and the clergy). As for the moral law, if they think of it at all, many Americans see morality and natural law as oppressive and opposed to freedom, self-expression and self-determination (and again, this is so not simply generally, but also among many Orthodox Christian laity and clergy).

The value of a more informal approach in the current pastoral circumstances can be seen in two ways. First, there is the positive value of friendship in the spiritual life. To take only one example from the patristic era, there is the friendship of St Basil and St John Chrysostom. Each was able to support and encourage the other as he sought to do the will of God for his own life.

Spiritual friendship has deep roots not only in the tradition of the Orthodox East, but also the Catholic West. There is for example in the spiritual tradition of the ancient Celtic Church the notion of the “soul friend” or in Gaelic the anam cara. On his blog “ Soul Friend,” Chuck Huckaby writes that in “a culture steeped in the idolatry of individualism we call postmodernism, nascent attempts at creating community and godly order all too often tilt to the opposite extreme of cultic authoritarianism. In contrast, the "Soul Friend" seeks to build community and establish order based on the model of sacrificial servanthood, patient instruction and gentle admonition.”

Moving beyond the arena of Celtic Christianity, there is also the role of spiritual friendship in the monastic tradition—again both East and West. I mentioned above the example of Chrysostom and Basil, there is also the example of the 6 ^th century elders and saints Barsaniphus and John.

Moving to western monastic life, we have the example of the father of monastic life in the West St Benedict. Add to this, the example of Francis of Assisi and his companions as well as the life and ministry ofBernard of Clairvauxthe great monastic reformer and the work of one of his “spiritual sons,” the great English saint and author Ailred of Rievaulx who wrote, among other things, a treatise entitled “ Spiritual Friendship.”

Huckably's point about “cultic authoritarianism” speaks to my rationale for a more informal approach to Orthodox outreach and evangelism. Looking back on my own personal and pastoral experience, I realize more and more the importance of robust tradition of both moral law and philosophical reasoning in the development of a health sense of self. Again both in my own early life and in my pastoral experience, the general cultural absence of these twin preparations for the Gospel leaves the developing self deeply wounded.

Switching if I may to a more clinical approach, the wounding of the self, or more accurately the sense of self, is part of who in the psychoanalytic tradition we understand the development of a personality disorder, or a character disorders. According to the American Psychiatric Association, personality disorders are characterized by "an enduring pattern of inner experience and behavior that deviates markedly from the expectations of the culture of the individual who exhibits it".

Within the pastoral sphere, I often see people with avoidant personality disorder or (again to borrow from the APA): a "pervasive pattern of social inhibition, feelings of inadequacy, and hypersensitivity to negative evaluation, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:

1. Avoids occupational activities that involve significant interpersonal contact, because of fears of criticism, disapproval, or rejection

2. Is unwilling to get involved with people unless certain of being liked

3. Shows restraint initiating intimate relationships because of the fear of being ashamed, ridiculed, or rejected due to severe low self-worth.

4. Is preoccupied with being criticized or rejected in social situations

5. Is inhibited in new interpersonal situations because of feelings of inadequacy

6. Views self as socially inept, personally unappealing, or inferior to others

7. Is unusually reluctant to take personal risks or to engage in any new activities because they may prove embarrassing.”

Those who suffer from an avoidant style of relating to self and others often will look to the formality and structure of the Orthodox Church to serve in place of their own underdeveloped and wounded sense of self. In other words, rather than developing a healthy and robust sense of self, with all that implies about accepting one's strengths and limitations as well as being responsible for one's decisions, a significant minority of people look to religion.

In the case of the converts I've know this means that the look to the Church, and especially the liturgical /ascetical tradition of the Church, to offer externally the structure to their lives that should emerge from their own sense of self.

Because the Church, and especially her liturgical and ascetical praxis, serve as person's ego (which again has been wounded), if the the formality of the Church's tradition is not balanced with a more informal approach, we risk confirming and deepening the very deficient sense of self that has caused the person so much suffering in life. Or, to put it more directly, the weight of the Church's tradition crushes already fragile sense of self.

This is why, I think, we often see such polemical defenses of their new tradition from many converts (and not just Orthodox Christians converts): The tradition has come to serve as the self and in those struggling with a personality disorder (unlike a more typical psychopathology such as depression) the fault for their own unhappiness is always external. And how could it be otherwise, since there is no healthy, internal sense of self that can bear the responsibility for their pain.

Again this I think is the great wisdom of the Evangelical Christian approach to ministry, outreach and evangelism in general and Saul Cruz's own work in particular. Informality is I think a good beginning. It is not sufficiently certainly, we need to introduce and incorporate the person in to Great Tradition and this not only intellectually but also sacramentally. Why? Not only because of the wisdom of tradition and the objective importance of the sacraments for the life of faith, but for sound anthropological reasons. We need the Great Tradition, and especially its liturgical and ascetical witness, to develop the sound and wholesome view of self that many of us lack.

If people cannot bear a formal beginning—even if l the desire it like an addict does his drug—this does not mean we can forgo the formality of the Church. We cannot come to wholeness of being without the liturgical and ascetical tradition of the Church. If their cultural absence has made them seem foreign and deadly to us and so necessitates a more, indirect approach to the life of grace, this does not mean that the moral, philosophical, liturgical and ascetical elements of Tradition of the Church are optional. To think they are is to confuse sound, Christ-centered, spiritual formation with pedagogy.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

A More Than Moral Life

Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said: "How long will you speak these things, and the words of your mouth be like a strong wind? Does God subvert judgment? Or does the Almighty pervert justice?

(Job 8:1-3, NKJV)

Writing in FIRST THINGS: On the Square, R. R. Reno offers an interesting observation. In his review of "Jacques Barzun's searching analysis of modern education, The House of Intellect," in which Barzun explores "the triumph of the Bohemian ideal, and the end of what John Lukacs has called the Bourgeois Era," Reno comments briefly on what he terms the "Bohemian project," which

retails itself as the royal road to self-discovery through the alchemy of self-expression. It promises a more "real," more authentic, and more individual existence. As Barzun suggests, the claims are hollow. The emerging Bohemian Era will be anti-intellectual: characterized by an externalized and collective sense of purpose (politics über alles) and an undifferentiated, amorphous inner life (the empire of desire).

As I read this, I began to think about the difference in character between Job and his friends. For all that Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar might present themselves as champions of religious orthodoxy in the face of Job's (seeming) dishonesty and self-deception, these men embody in their words to Job the very anti-intellectualism and "externalized and collective sense of purpose . . . and an undifferentiated, amorphous inner life" that Reno argues has taken hold of contemporary Western culture.

Precisely however because of the historical and cultural distance between Job's time and our own, it seems to me that these men typify not only cultural decadence, but a collapse, and even a rejection, of the human possibility of transcendence. Rather than undergo the deep, inner struggle as does Job, his friends flee to mere moralism a way of life that is not only the opposite of a life of transcendence, but the sign that we have refused the possibilities open to us in the spiritual life.

This is not to suggest by any means that we can dispense with the moral law. Indeed, reading through the patristic commentary on Job, it becomes clear that the fathers generally agree with the anthropology that Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar articulate. Even when a particular father disagrees with the applicability to Job's situation of the words spoken, they nevertheless see the general applicability of statement. Just to offer one example, in his own reflection on the Bildad's comment to Job that I quoted above, St John Chrysostom writes:

[E]ven though Bildad's words are not entirely applicable to Job, let us see what he means. Do you not perceive the profound justice that reigns in the creation and its profound order? And how everything is well regulated and settled? Therefore could He Who maintains justice and order among the senseless creatures overturns the rules in your case?

Instead of answering his own question, Chrysostom asks more questions, the asking of which reveals (as we say earlier) the convergence of cosmology and anthropology in the life of the particular person:

Further why did God create everything? Is it not because of you . . .? And so He Who has created so many things, did He not give you what was right to share? He Who has created you out of love, if He has shown His benevolence toward the universe, this also is proof of His power.

This then is the crux of the matter: We are created in the image and likeness of the God Who creates "out of love" and Who, again "out of love," has ordered and regulated the whole creation in justice. Creation makes manifest the goodness of God precisely because of its own inner harmony, its own internal integrity on both the microscopic and macroscopic levels. Or, in a word, the justice of creation "declares the glory of God." (Ps 18/19.1)

And what of us?

Again, while he may have missed the mark in his estimation of Job, in Chrysostom's view Bildad has nevertheless grasped something profoundly true about humanity in general: "We often overturn justice because of our powerlessness, but "He has created everything" he says. Will He, Who is so wise, so just, so powerful, be unjust?" ("Commentary on Job," 8.2A-3B, ACCS, vol VI, p. 44)

Here then is the difference between the spiritual life, the life of the inward man, and life of mere moralism, of merely external conformity and pseudo-self-expression. This difference turns on my response to my own powerlessness.

As Job says of himself in his retort to Eliphaz, "My life is lighter than speech and perishes with an empty hope." (7.6, LXX) He continues:

Remember then, my life is a breath, and my eye will no longer return to see good. The eye of him who sees me will not see me again; your eyes are on me, I am no more. I am like the cloud that cleared away from the sky. (7.7-9, LXX)

Job and his friends all acknowledge the powerlessness of the human. Each in, his own way, offers us a meditation on the often converging themes of human contingency and sinfulness. But for the critics of Job, there is (I think) some comfort to be found in the possibility that Job suffers because of some secret on his part that makes him qualitatively different from them. The reason I say this is because even though Eliphaz cannot convince Job that this is so, it is still worth his effort to make the argument if only to convince himself that he is safe from the affliction that has visited Job. In this Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar reveal themselves to be men of pure externality in response to their own inner poverty.

Job, for his part, does not, and will not, take this route. He will not use the occasion of meeting a friend, even a friend who has betrayed him, as the opportunity to comfort himself at the expense of the truth of the human condition. For Job, there is no denial of his own powerlessness; he denies neither his contingency nor his sinfulness. At the same time, he sees himself and his condition in others, even as he sees others in himself.

Commenting on Job's words, St Gregory the Great says that "this mortal life passes day by day; . . . . Just as we said before, while the time in our hands passes, the time before us is shortened. Moreover, of the whole length of our lives, the days to come are proportionally fewer to those days that have gone." ("Morals on the Book of Job," 8.26, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 41) It is the pain of human morality, of their own contingency, that Job's friends fight against. And it is just this, the fragility of all humanity, that, verse by verse, Job grows to more and more accept in his own flesh.

None of this is to suggest that Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar are bad men. They aren't. But they are weak men and so seek safety and security in the merely moral. Like Job, they have learned "to restrain the flesh by continence." Unlike Job, however, each man suffers because his "mind has not been taught to expand itself through compassion" for his neighbor. (Gregory the Great, "Morals on the Book of Job," 6.53, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 32) Later in his reflections on the book of Job, St Gregory reflects on the condition of those in the Church who are like the friends of Job. He says that they are the one "who certainly keep from the gratification of the flesh, yet grovel with all their heart in earthly practices."

Gregory continues his mediation by imagining the Church saying of these "earthly" and "dusty" Christians that

are members of me in faith, yet . . . are not sound or pure members in practice. For they either are mastered by foul desires and run to and fro in corruption's rottenness, or, being devoted to earthly practices, they are soiled with dust. For in those whom I have to endure, people filled with wantonness, I do plainly lament for the flesh turned corrupt. And in those from whom I suffer, those who are seeking the earth, what else is this but the defilement of dust that I must bear? ("Morals on the Book of Job," 8.23, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 41)

Even while he says that his life "is a breath," Job shows himself to be a man of substance. He sees the fragility of his own life but there is no hint of narcissism in his complaints nor does his own suffering become the excuse for a lack of compassion for his neighbor.

And now we see the real struggle of the spiritual life: To embrace the whole truth of our situation, the good and the ill. But as Job's own situation also makes clear, to live this way will—necessarily it seems—put us at odds with those who, like Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, have yet themselves to turn inward.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

The Mystery of Purification

Behold, happy is the man whom God corrects; therefore do not despise the chastening of the Almighty. For He bruises, but He binds up; He wounds, but His hands make whole.

(Job 5.17-18, NKJV)

Eliphaz's response to Job highlights the struggles that are inherent in the first moment of my inward turn. Let me explain.

He argues that if Job is truly an innocent of any wrong doing he would not suffer. As he says to Job (4.12, LXX), "if there had been any truth in your words, none of these evil would have befallen you." In other words: Those innocent of sin do not suffer (4.7, LXX), since Job is suffering he must be guilty of sin.

St Gregory the Great rejects this line of reasoning. He sees in Eliphaz and the other "friends of blessed Job," the image of the "heretics," of those "the evil ones" who "are as much to blame in their admonitions as they are immoderate in their condemnations." For the Pope of Old Rome both experience and Scripture testify to the fact that the innocent and the righteous do suffer and suffer often. He goes further and says that

They, then, are genuinely righteous who produce the love of the heavenly country to meet all the ills of the present life. For all who fear enduring ills in this life are clearly not righteous people. They have forgotten they suffer for the sake of eternal blessings.

Turning explicitly to Eliphaz, Gregory explores why it is that this friend of Job "does not take into account [why it is that] either the righteous are cut off or that the innocent perish here." The saint argues that this memory lapses reflects an even more profound lapse: "For people often serve God not in the hope of heavenly glory but an earthly recompense." He continues that as does Eliphaz, many "make a fiction in their own head of that which they are seeking. Thinking themselves to be instructors in preaching earthly immunity, they show by all their pains what is the thing they love." ("Morals on Job," 5.34, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 22)

Reading through Job, I am struck that—for the second time—Eliphaz is overwhelmed by Job's situation. Just as at the end of chapter 2, he and his friends are struck dumb in the face of Job's suffer (2.18), so too Eliphaz begins his admonish by acknowledging his poverty in the face of Job's sorrow: "Have you been often spoken to in distress? But who can endure the force if your words?" Though Job's circumstances are more than he can endure, Eliphaz nevertheless takes it upon himself to lecture his friend.

St John Chrysostom helps us see the irony here of Eliphaz's intervention. Chrysostom observes that Eliphaz is hesitant and uncertain in his response to Job not from "moderation," but because he knows he "cannot convince Job about an evident fault on his [Job's] part." Instead Eliphaz is undone by Job's insistence of his own innocence AND his willingness to share "the same fate as the impious." ("Commentary on Job," 4.2 quoted in ACCS, vol VI, 21)

Having begun now to detach himself from his inordinate loves, Job finds within himself the possibility of identifying with the unrighteous and the sinful to such a degree that—in anticipation of Christ—he is willing to share with them the consequences of their sin. This is beyond what Eliphaz and the other friends of Job can imagine for themselves—or indeed for anyone—because they have not yet taken that inward turn. They are still very much attached to their own egocentric desires.

They can reprove Job—but they can have no compassion for him. To do so, to be willing to suffer along with Job—which is to say, to imitate his own imitation of Christ and bear innocently the consequences of human sinfulness—is impossible as long as they are attached to their own egoic desires. Job is a provocation to Eliphaz and to all who structure their lives according to the desires of their own will.

My inordinate attachment to the created does not reflect the intrinsic value of the things themselves. Rather my attachment to the created order reflects the egocentric value I posit of creation. My desires are inordinate because they are arbitrary; they reflect my momentary, transitory whims. I do not desire the goodness of creation as is given by God. Rather what I desire is the self-referential utility to which I can bend creation, my neighbor and even God Himself. What I value in God and creation is their value for my own plans and projects.

More tragically, reflecting as it does the desires of my ego, the life I live life is one ever decreasing appreciation for the goodness of God and His creation. Even the images of the self that I catch in the fleeting reflections from the world around me are ones I select and arranged according to my own egoic desires. And so my attachment to my desires leads to a similar, personal, downward spiral in which I come to see ever less of my own goodness.

A moment ago, I said that Job embodies a provocation to Eliphaz. The provocation, I think is this. I can no more choose the path of purification than I can choose my own birth (or death for that matter). Just as birth is the condition of possibility for my freedom, and so prior to freedom itself, purification is what makes me free, but it is not something I am free to choose. In fact, if my analysis of the diminishing sense of my own goodness is true, I am not free either to reject purification since this merely ratifies the work of sin and death in me (if I may borrow from the Apostle Paul).

Finally, let me conclude with what I see as the fundamental difference between Job and Eliphaz and for each man represents for the spiritual life.

For Job, unlike for Eliphaz, the truth of cosmology, the truth of anthropology, are not merely abstract facts to be manipulated by me as I seek to make a point or win an argument. Yes, Job can say with Eliphaz, "blesses is the man whom God corrects; therefore do not reject the chastening of the Almighty." (5.17). Unlike Eliphaz, however, Job would not stop there. He would confess his gratitude to the God Who "causes a man to be in pain, but He restores him again. He smites, but His hands heal again." (v. 18) For Eliphaz this is simply a truth about God and about humanity's relationship with God. While Eliphaz gives voices to what is true for all and is willing to apply this to Job, he (curiously) does not apply this truth to himself. And again, this is not how it is for Job. Like Christ, Job lives in his own flesh the mystery of God's wounding and healing love for every human person. And, needless to say, it is to this way of life, to Job's way of life, that we who are in Christ are also called.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Facing the Danger of Looking Inward

The inward journey is not, as the text of Job illustrates, without its own dangers.

For Job, at the end of the second chapter, the first such danger that he encounters is this: Even as he comes to see himself more clearly, he becomes increasingly unrecognizable to those who are closest to him. Soon after Satan strikes "Job with painful boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head," (v. 7) his wife comes to him and says "'Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!'" (v. 9) Job, however, remains faithful to the journey he has begun: "'You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?' In all this Job did not sin with his lips." (v. 10)

Writing in about the fifth century, the Christian priest, Hesychius of Jerusalem, in one of his homilies on Job offers the following reflection on the brief exchange between Job and his wife:

Now, since the betrayer [i.e., Satan] had been defeated in every battle, had failed in all his attempts, had been hindered in all his hunts, had been deprived of all his schemes, and all his traps had been broken, after destroying Job's wreath, after the death of his numerous children, after ripping Job's body with his blows, at last, and in the betrayer's opinion, most compelling resource, he leads his wife against Job. ("Homilies on Job," 4.2.9, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 13)

The more I make the inward journey, the more I allow myself to feel the grief that is symptomatic of my love of the gift over the Giver, the more I realize that I have confused myself with my possessions, my accomplishments, and ultimately my own egocentric desires.

I cannot judge Job's wife harshly. As with his friends (vv. 11-13), Job's wife does "not recognize him." (v. 12) Just as he is becoming clear to himself, Job becomes a cipher to those closest to him. And why not? They know only the mask, the false self, which Job projected to the world. Having themselves not yet turned inward, they see only Job's loss, his suffering, but not his purification, not his gain in self-knowledge and peace. Truth be told, even though he does "not sin with his lips," at this point Job is still a cipher to himself.

One of the great dangers of turning inward is the temptation is to abandon our journey rather than face the rejection of those closest to us. Abandoning the journey means that, like Job's wife and friends, giving I instead give myself over to a despair born of untransformed grief. Seeing but not understanding her husband's transformation, Job's wife can only say, "Curse God and die." Job's friends, "Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite," are all likewise undone by their grief. The appearance of Job in the first moments of his new birth strikes them dumb; all they can do is weep with grief at the loss of the man they knew. And Job must face the temptation to join in their untransformed grief and forgo a life of compassion and forgiveness.

In the first moments of my inward turn, the burden of grief that can so overwhelm me that I simply give up. The sign that I have given up is that I see my suffering is purely external. Forsaking the inward journey mean that I see my grief not as it is, rooted not an inordinate attachment to my own ego, but rather to the circumstances in which I find myself. "If only," I tell myself, "my life had been different."

Job faces this temptation in chapter three. Mindful of all that he has lost, mindful of his alienation from his wife and friends, "Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth." (v. 1) Quickly, Job's curse takes on a life of its own as it passes from personal to cosmological (vv. 4-9). Nevertheless, he is still able to again considers himself:

"Why did I not die at birth?

Why did I not perish when I came from the womb?

Why did the knees receive me?

Or why the breasts, that I should nurse? (vv. 11-12)

Thinking about his own life in light of these larger, cosmological issues, inspires Job to think more deeply about his life. But now cosmology must become anthropology and he realizes that his is the lot of all humanity, "kings and counselors" (v. 14), "princes" (v. 15), "infants" (v. 16), the "wicked" (v. 17), "prisoners" (v. 18), the "small and the great . . . and the slave." (v. 19) It is at this moment that we see the beginning of the real fruit in Job's (and our own) inward turn— compassion and forgiveness.

Job understands (as I still must) the terrible mystery of creation. Nothing and no one is ontologically necessary. That all is a gift is true enough. But to the one who would control life rather than receive it thankful as a gift from the Divine Giver, this realization is a frightening. The choice is clear; I succeed on God's terms or fail on my own. Or, as St Gregory the Great has it,

Those who are endued with might in love of their Maker are those who are strengthened in the love of God as the object of their desire. Yet they become in the same degree powerless in their own strength. The more strongly they long for the things eternal, the more they are disenchanted with earthly objects. The failure of their self-assertive strength is wholesome. ("Morals on the Book of Job," quoted in ACCS¸ vol VI, p. 18)

Job's struggle, the struggle of his friends and family with him, is that they do not—at least in the first moments of his revelation—recognize the real Job. They failed to do so because they were attached to the facsimile of the true man within. Like Job I must first face my own inordinate attachments if my grief and despair are to be transformed.

Job struggle is part and parcel of the journey of not only the Great Fast, but the whole of the Christian life. Like Job I must confront the gratuitous, but not capricious, character of all creation including my own life. Again this is an inward journey and it is only by turning first turning inward that, by God's grace and my own effort, I am able to "transform . . . very evil habits into virtue." (Gregory the Great, "Morals on the Book of Job," quoted in ACCS¸ vol VI, p. 14)

As I said above, this transformation, should it come at all, bears the fruit of a life of compassion and forgiveness. Why do I say this? It is only when I am mindful of my own weakness, I can have compassion for my neighbor in his weakness and so extend forgiveness to him. This neither Job's wife nor friends were able to do for him—they could not forgive his weakness because they had no compassion having not accepted their own poverty before God.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Transforming Life’s ‘Little’ Ironies

Naked I came from my mother's womb,

And naked shall I return there.

The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away;

Blessed be the name of the LORD.

(Job 1.21)

One of life's bitterest and most tragic ironies is that which symbolizes the great gift of my life has been corrupted by sin. Instead of being a source of great joy, this symbol has become instead the symbol of my deepest shame. I am speaking here of nakedness.

In the beginning, we are told in Genesis, the man and the woman are created naked. And naked they stand before each other in gratitude to God an purity of heart, with neither lust nor shame to mar their lives for God or each other. It is only after their transgression, only after their eyes are "opened" that each becomes a stranger to the other. And underneath this hostility toward the other, there is as well a self-loathing, a shame and self-alienation ground in an even deeper estrangement from God.

Compare this to the naked Job.

There is, so St Ephrem the Syrian tells us, no hint of this bitterness in Job's words quoted above. Rather for the longsuffering patriarch and despite all the pain that has come upon him, Job, unlike Adam, has not "covered [his own nakedness] with crimes and evil deeds." Instead, and again unlike Adam who hides from God, Job is "firm in his holy frankness" before God and man. Easily we can "imagine [that] he had never turned aside from righteousness nor would [he pass] from virtue to vice in the future" ("Commentary on Job," 1.21, quoted in ACCS, vol VI, p. 7).

Job's steadfastness in the midst of his suffering highlights for me my own lack of gratitude before God for the gift of my own life. Reflecting on my own, rather ordinary suffering and my own rather pedestrian smallness of heart, I am struck by the words of Clement of Alexandria.

Clement in his commentary on Job focuses his attention on the anthropologically rich fact of human nakedness. Unlike all other creatures, the human being "alone is born in all aspects naked, without weapon or clothing." He continues by telling me that "This does not mean that you are inferior to other animals." Our nakedness is given to us by God "to produce thought." It is because of our original physical, even ontological, poverty that "in turn, we [are able to] bring out dexterity, expel sloth, introduce the arts for the supply of our needs, and beget a variety of ingenuity."

Reflecting on the practical consequences of our nakedness Clement continues by observing that "naked human beings are full of contrivances, being pricked by their necessity, as by a goad, to figure out how to escape rains, how to elude cold, how to fend off blows, how to till the earth, how to terrify beasts" and even "how to subdue the more powerful" of our own kind. Because of our nakedness, because of our poverty, we are "wetted with rain" and so "conceive of a roof." Because we have "suffered from cold" we "invent clothing." He says of poor humanity that being "struck," we "construct a breastplate" to guard ourselves. Our "hands bleeding with the thorns in tilling the ground," cause us to "avail [ourselves] of the help of tools. Because our "naked state[makes us] liable to become prey to wild beasts," we have "discovered from [our] fear an art which frightened the very thing that [frightens us]."

And so, he concludes, there is a certain irony to our poverty. "Nakedness begets one accomplishment after another." Going further he say that "even [our] nakedness" the sign of our poverty and our weakness must be seen as "a gift of benevolence." For his part, having understood and accepted as a gift his own physical and ontological poverty, "Job [though] being made naked of wealth, possessions, of the blessing of children, of a numerous offspring, and having lost everything in a short time" is able to utter "this grateful explanation: 'Naked came I out of the womb, naked also I shall depart thither,' to God and the that blessed lot and rest" ("Catena," Fragment, 1, ACCS, vol VI, p. 8).

The book of Job presents me with a standard that is well beyond me—and which I suspect will always be well beyond me. If I am honest, while I may regret the former, I am just ever so slightly relived by the latter. is frankly so much easier to cultivate in myself a sense of gratitude when, unlike Job, I get to pick and choose the parts of my life for which I am grateful. But it is for this reason, because I am so willing to limit my gratitude to what confirms to my own ego, that each year during the season of the Great Fast I am brought again to sit in the place of Job.

As he always does, St Augustine goes right to heart of the matter. With his usual eloquence, he highlights one of the bitter ironies of my spiritual life. It is hard not to recognize myself as one of "those feebler souls who, though they cannot be said to prefer earthly possessions to Christ, still hang on to them with a somewhat modest attachment." How am I able to recognize myself here? Because, as with all feeble souls, I discover "by the pain of losing . . . things how much [I was] sinning in loving them." Like all feeble souls, my "grief is of [my] own making." (City of God, 1.10, quoted ACCS, vol VI, p. 9).

If we are not careful, we can look at the season of the Great Fast as purely negative event. There is, to be sure, a negative quality to this time of year, but is it the negativity of the catharsis (purification) that leads to theoria (illumination) and eventually theosis (divinization). It is during the season of the Great Fast that I am lead each year to discover evermore fully not only what Augustine might call my inordinate attachments to created goods, but also, to paraphrase Clement, the ingenious variety of my own, and my neighbor's, creativity and intelligence. And all this I must come to see in thanksgiving as God's gift to us.

But again, I can only discover the benevolence of the latter if I am willing to suffer the grief cause by the slow and steady purification of my "somewhat modest attachments." As I said yesterday, this purification only happens if I willing, like Job and with the Church as my guide, turn inward, dive deep beneath the surface of life's bitter and tragic ironies, and rise on the Third Day with Christ our True God.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

The Heart’s Hidden Depth

So it was, when the days of feasting had run their course, that Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all. For Job said, "It may be that my sons have sinned and cursed[a] God in their hearts." Thus Job did regularly.

(Job 1.5)

For Great Lent, I have encouraged my catechumens to read the book of Job. Since I generally follow the counsel I give, I began today to read Job.

For my first reading, I am using the new Orthodox Study Bible's (OSB) English translation of the Septuagint (LXX). Afterwards, I go back over the text a second time, but this time using the volume dedicated to Job in the Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture (ACCS) series. This series allows me to get a bit of the flavor of patristic commentary on the book. While I am of two minds about both texts, I think it is good now and then to look at a familiar text of Scripture from a different perspective. But, this is really neither here nor there.

Reading through the commentary of chapter 1, my attention was drawn to the words of Didymus the Blind (ca. 313 – ca.398) Reflecting on the verse at the top of this post, Didymus says that, "the text stresses the great purity of Job's children." He then something interesting, while Job "did not perceive any sin" in his son, he nevertheless offered sacrifices because of the sons' "disposition." The explanation for this is straightforward: "Job was aware that the human weakness and sluggishness that mark young persons often escalates. This is also what St. Paul said, 'I am not aware of anything against myself.' (1 Cor 4.4) And the psalmist, 'Forgive my hidden faults.' (Ps 19.12/18.13 LXX)"

Thinking about this, two thoughts came to mind.

First, I am aware that I often do not have any sense of my own sinfulness. Or rather, my awareness is often limited to only my surface sinfulness. Yes, I know that I am a sinner, but I do not know this in depth. This why I think that not only the season of the Great fast, but all the penitential periods and disciplines of the Church can be beneficial. They can help me come to know a bit more of the depths of my own sinfulness. In words of the Great Canon of St Andrew that the Orthodox Church celebrates during Lent (9^th Ode):

The mind is wounded, the body is feeble, the spirit is sick, the word has lost its power, life is ebbing, the end is at the doors. What then will you do, wretched soul, when the Judge comes to try your case?

I have reviewed Moses' account of the creation of the world, my soul, and then all canonical Scripture which tells you the story of the righteous and the unrighteous. But you, my soul, have copied the latter and not the former, and have sinned against God.

The Law has grown weak, the Gospel is unpractised, the whole of the Scripture is ignored by you; the Prophets and every word of the Just have lost their power. Your wounds, my soul, have multiplied, and there is no physician to heal you.

For many, including man Orthodox Christians, these words are hard to say. And they are even harder to apply to oneself.

But they don't exhaust the hidden depths of the human heart. Yes, there is in my heart profound sin but not only sin. Again, in the words of tonight's service:

I am bringing before you examples from the New Scripture, my soul, to lead you to compunction. So emulate the righteous and avoid following the sinners, and regain Christ's grace by prayers, fasts, purity and reverence.

Christ became man and called to repentance robbers and harlots. Repent, my soul! The door of the Kingdom is already open, and the transformed Pharisees, publicans and adulterers are seizing it ahead of you. (Matthew 21:31; 11:12)

Christ became a babe and conversed in the flesh with me, and he voluntarily experienced all that pertains to our nature, apart from sin; and He showed you, my soul, an example and image of His own condescension. (Matthew 1:25)

Christ saved wise men, called shepherds, made crowds of infants martyrs, glorified old men and aged widows, whose deeds and life, my soul, you have not emulated. But woe unto you when you are judged! (Matthew 2:12; Luke 2:9-12; Matthew 2:16; Luke 2:25-38)

When the Lord had fasted for forty days in the wilderness, He at last became hungry, showing His human nature. Do not be despondent, my soul, if the enemy attacks you, but let him be beaten off by prayer and fasting. (Matthew 4:1-11; 17:21; Mark 9:29)

The human heart, my heart conceals within itself not only sin and death, but also the possibility of repentance and renewal in response to God's grace. If I may speak this way, not only sin but also repentance is a possibility for me. I suspect that, to the degree people turn inward at all, most of us remain on the surface.

But if I go deeper and see the sinfulness that is right underneath the surface of my respectable life, I am tempted to turn away from the ugliness with me and retreat once more into a life of mere respectability. Or else, if I avoid flight, I can find myself mired in the reality of my own sinfulness, my own pettiness and shortcomings.

The real anthropological genius of the Church's liturgical tradition is that it takes me even deeper into myself and shows me the image of God that is obscured by my sinfulness. It is at that point, when I see my life as it has come to me from the Hand of God that I can begin, by God's grace, the upward climb that is the life of repentance and theosis.

The great paradox though is that I cannot ascend unless I first descend into the "weakness and sluggishness" that characterizes not only the life of young people, but my own life as well.

A blessed Lent and a glorious celebration of Christ's Resurrection.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

You've Got the Time (To Listen to the New Testament During Lent)

Sherry W from Intentional Disciples has posted information about what she describes (rightly I think) "a most encouraging ecumenical Lenten initiative in Houston." What is it you ask? Well, I let Sherry explain:

Cardinal DiNardo, Archbishop of Houston is encouraging parishes to participate in You've Got the Time, a city wide, inter-denominational campaign to listen to audio recordings of the New Testament during Lent.

Sherry continues,

This is part of the Archdiocese' year long campaign, The Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church.

So far more than 50 parishes have signed up to listen to the whole New Testament in the New American version.

You've Got the Time is a project of Faith Comes by Hearing, a evangelical group that is committed to offering the Bible in a format that will connect with the world's 50% illiterate population. Looking for an audio New Testament in Tiv or Kinyakyusa? (And I knew you were!) This is the place.

What is called "Orality" is a big issue in missions circles these days as the heirs of the Word-driven Reformation wrestle with the reality that 18% (over 1 billion) of the world's population cannot read and write.

But it is estimated that 65% of the American public have never read the new Testament. 60% don't know Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount. So what better time than Lent to remedy that situation?

There are, sadly, similar levels of biblical illiteracy among Orthodox Christians.

As we prepare to enter next week into the season of the Great Fast (or for my Roman Catholic and Protestant readers as you prepare to start Lent tomorrow), would you please consider going over to the site, You've Got The Time Houston, and listen this Lent to the New Testament? Alternative, you can click on the banner that will sit on the top of this blog until Pascha.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Eastern Orthodox New Testament Reading Plan

Image via Wikipedia

This plan was prepared by Esteban Vázquez and is based on the rule for reading the New Testament in the kellia at the Optina Monastery, which prescribed a chapter of the Holy Gospel (89 in all) and two from the Acts, Epistles, and Revelation for every day, with only one chapter from Revelation on the last seven days in order to make up 89 readings.

Column I gives the chapters from the Gospels in succession.

Column II gives the continuous order of Apostolic readings as prescribed by the Optina rule, and according to the order of New Testament books found in the Slavonic Bible. However, this order
sometimes causes the reader to finish the last chapter of a book and then start on the first one of the next, which may confuse some readers acquainting themselves with the subject matter of the
New Testament.

For their benefit, Column III gives a revised order in which the reading of each Apostolic book is completely finished before starting on the next one; the sole exceptions to this are one-chapter
epistles (Jude, Philemon, etc.), which are combined with the last chapter of the previous book.

Column IV also gives this revised format, but according to the order of New Testament books usually found in our English Bibles.

This plan is under continuous revision, and any suggestions for improvement would be greatly appreciated by Esteban and Kevin P. Edgecomb.

h/t: Kevin P. Edgecomb

Day	I	II	III	IV
Day 1	St Matthew 1	Acts 1-2	Acts 1-2	Acts 1-2
Day 2	St Matthew 2	Acts 3-4	Acts 3-4	Acts 3-4
Day 3	St Matthew 3	Acts 5-6	Acts 5-6	Acts 5-6
Day 4	St Matthew 4	Acts 7-8	Acts 7-8	Acts 7-8
Day 5	St Matthew 5	Acts 9-10	Acts 9-10	Acts 9-10
Day 6	St Matthew 6	Acts 11-12	Acts 11-12	Acts 11-12
Day 7	St Matthew 7	Acts 13-14	Acts 13-14	Acts 13-14
Day 8	St Matthew 8	Acts 15-16	Acts 15-16	Acts 15-16
Day 9	St Matthew 9	Acts 17-18	Acts 17-18	Acts 17-18
Day 10	St Matthew 10	Acts 19-20	Acts 19-20	Acts 19-20
Day 11	St Matthew 11	Acts 21-22	Acts 21-22	Acts 21-22
Day 12	St Matthew 12	Acts 23-24	Acts 23-24	Acts 23-24
Day 13	St Matthew 13	Acts 25-26	Acts 25-26	Acts 25-26
Day 14	St Matthew 14	Acts 27-28	Acts 27-28	Acts 27-28
Day 15	St Matthew 15	James 1-2	James 1-2	Romans 1-2
Day 16	St Matthew 16	James 3-4	James 3-4	Romans 3-4
Day 17	St Matthew 17	James 5; I Peter 1	James 5	Romans 5-6
Day 18	St Matthew 18	I Peter 2-3	I Peter 1-2	Romans 7-8
Day 19	St Matthew 19	I Peter 4-5	I Peter 3-4	Romans 9-10
Day 20	St Matthew 20	II Peter 1-2	I Peter 5	Romans 11-12
Day 21	St Matthew 21	II Peter 3; I John 1	II Peter 1-2	Romans 13-14
Day 22	St Matthew 22	I John 2-3	II Peter 3	Romans 15-16
Day 23	St Matthew 23	I John 4-5	I John 1-2	I Corinthians 1-2
Day 24	St Matthew 24	II John; III John	I John 3-4	I Corinthians 3-4
Day 25	St Matthew 25	Jude; Romans 1	I John 5; II John	I Corinthians 5-6
Day 26	St Matthew 26	Romans 2-3	III John; Jude	I Corinthians 7-8
Day 27	St Matthew 27	Romans 4-5	Romans 1-2	I Corinthians 9-10
Day 28	St Matthew 28	Romans 6-7	Romans 3-4	I Corinthians 11-12
Day 29	St Mark 1	Romans 8-9	Romans 5-6	I Corinthians 13-14
Day 30	St Mark 2	Romans 10-11	Romans 7-8	I Corinthians 15-16
Day 31	St Mark 3	Romans 12-13	Romans 9-10	II Corinthians 1-2
Day 32	St Mark 4	Romans 14-15	Romans 11-12	II Corinthians 3-4
Day 33	St Mark 5	Rom. 16; I Cor. 1	Romans 13-14	II Corinthians 5-6
Day 34	St Mark 6	I Corinthians 2-3	Romans 15-16	II Corinthians 7-8
Day 35	St Mark 7	I Corinthians 4-5	I Corinthians 1-2	II Corinthians 9-10
Day 36	St Mark 8	I Corinthians 6-7	I Corinthians 3-4	II Corinthians 11-12
Day 37	St Mark 9	I Corinthians 8-9	I Corinthians 5-6	II Corinthians 13
Day 38	St Mark 10	I Corinthians 10-11	I Corinthians 7-8	Galatians 1-2
Day 39	St Mark 11	I Corinthians 12-13	I Corinthians 9-10	Galatians 3-4
Day 40	St Mark 12	I Corinthians 14-15	I Corinthians 11-12	Galatians 5-6
Day 41	St Mark 13	I Cor. 16; II Cor. 1	I Corinthians 13-14	Ephesians 1-2
Day 42	St Mark 14	II Corinthians 2-3	I Corinthians 15-16	Ephesians 3-4
Day 43	St Mark 15	II Corinthians 4-5	II Corinthians 1-2	Ephesians 5-6
Day 44	St Mark 16	II Corinthians 6-7	II Corinthians 3-4	Philippians 1-2
Day 45	St Luke 1	II Corinthians 8-9	II Corinthians 5-6	Philippians 3-4
Day 46	St Luke 2	II Corinthians 10-11	II Corinthians 7-8	Colossians 1-2
Day 47	St Luke 3	II Corinthians 12-13	II Corinthians 9-10	Colossians 3-4
Day 48	St Luke 4	Galatians 1-2	II Corinthians 11-12	I Thessalonians 1-2
Day 49	St Luke 5	Galatians 3-4	II Corinthians 13	I Thessalonians 3-4
Day 50	St Luke 6	Galatians 5-6	Galatians 1-2	I Thessalonians 5
Day 51	St Luke 7	Ephesians 1-2	Galatians 3-4	II Thessalonians 1-2
Day 52	St Luke 8	Ephesians 3-4	Galatians 5-6	II Thessalonians 3
Day 53	St Luke 9	Ephesians 5-6	Ephesians 1-2	I Timothy 1-2
Day 54	St Luke 10	Philippians 1-2	Ephesians 3-4	I Timothy 3-4
Day 55	St Luke 11	Philippians 3-4	Ephesians 5-6	I Timothy 5-6
Day 56	St Luke 12	Colossians 1-2	Philippians 1-2	II Timothy 1-2
Day 57	St Luke 13	Colossians 3-4	Philippians 3-4	II Timothy 3-4
Day 58	St Luke 14	I Thessalonians 1-2	Colossians 1-2	Titus 1-2
Day 59	St Luke 15	I Thessalonians 3-4	Colossians 3-4	Titus 3; Philemon
Day 60	St Luke 16	I Thes. 5; II Thes. 1	I Thessalonians 1-2	Hebrews 1-2
Day 61	St Luke 17	II Thessalonians 2-3	I Thessalonians 3-4	Hebrews 3-4
Day 62	St Luke 18	I Timothy 1-2	I Thessalonians 5	Hebrews 5-6
Day 63	St Luke 19	I Timothy 3-4	II Thessalonians 1-2	Hebrews 7-8
Day 64	St Luke 20	I Timothy 5-6	II Thessalonians 3	Hebrews 9-10
Day 65	St Luke 21	II Timothy 1-2	I Timothy 1-2	Hebrews 11-12
Day 66	St Luke 22	II Timothy 3-4	I Timothy 3-4	Hebrews 13
Day 67	St Luke 23	Titus 1-2	I Timothy 5-6	James 1-2
Day 68	St Luke 24	Titus 3; Philemon	II Timothy 1-2	James 3-4
Day 69	St John 1	Hebrews 1-2	II Timothy 3-4	James 5
Day 70	St John 2	Hebrews 3-4	Titus 1-2	I Peter 1-2
Day 71	St John 3	Hebrews 5-6	Titus 3; Philemon	I Peter 3-4
Day 72	St John 4	Hebrews 7-8	Hebrews 1-2	I Peter 5
Day 73	St John 5	Hebrews 9-10	Hebrews 3-4	II Peter 1-2
Day 74	St John 6	Hebrews 11-12	Hebrews 5-6	II Peter 3
Day 75	St John 7	Heb. 13; Rev. 1	Hebrews 7-8	I John 1-2
Day 76	St John 8	Revelation 2-3	Hebrews 9-10	I John 3-4
Day 77	St John 9	Revelation 4-5	Hebrews 11-12	I John 5; II John
Day 78	St John 10	Revelation 6-7	Hebrews 13	III John; Jude
Day 79	St John 11	Revelation 8-9	Revelation 1-2	Revelation 1-2
Day 80	St John 12	Revelation 10-11	Revelation 3-4	Revelation 3-4
Day 81	St John 13	Revelation 12-13	Revelation 5-6	Revelation 5-6
Day 82	St John 14	Revelation 14-15	Revelation 7-8	Revelation 7-8
Day 83	St John 15	Revelation 16	Revelation 9-10	Revelation 9-10
Day 84	St John 16	Revelation 17	Revelation 11-12	Revelation 11-12
Day 85	St John 17	Revelation 18	Revelation 13-14	Revelation 13-14
Day 86	St John 18	Revelation 19	Revelation 15-16	Revelation 15-16
Day 87	St John 19	Revelation 20	Revelation 17-18	Revelation 17-18
Day 88	St John 20	Revelation 21	Revelation 19-20	Revelation 19-20
Day 89	St John 21	Revelation 22	Revelation 21-22	Revelation 21-22

Last updated 17 January 2009