This past Wednesday our Bishop came to visit our church, and joined us for a Moleben to the Cross (which was a short service in which we reverence the Cross and Jesus’ life and death in preparation for celebrating His resurrection). Immediately after the service our Bishop provided a brief meditation on the two thieves who were crucified with Jesus. The one mocked Him and told Him to save Himself; while the other chastised his fellow thief and asked Jesus to remember him in His Kingdom. I appreciate the interpretation of the three bar cross in which Orthodox Christians remember these two. The lowest bar represents where Jesus’ feet were nailed. One side points up representing the thief whom Jesus remembered and the other bar points down representing the thief who rejected Jesus.
What caught my attention this time was that Jesus did not choose the manner of His death. He humbly submitted to death on a cross. In the Scriptures He took no umbrage at the religious leaders who called for His death or the political leaders who provided His death, after all, they were scared men who were trying to protect their peace and livelihood. They just couldn’t see beyond their circumstances to the life which Jesus was offering.
We Christians often don’t look past our own particular circumstances. When I think of Jesus’ love, I realize how short we fall in our call to love. I recently read a blog post by an Orthodox priest about a new television program on the Bible. It was apparently a big budget, well-done, and popular program. The priest who wrote the blog post was annoyed that the program was not an “icon” of scripture, but mere entertainment. The assumption that television is more than entertainment is groundless, and wanting a television program to be an “icon” is ludicrous. I have to dismiss blog posts by priests complaining about television as link-bait. The priest who wrote the article is focusing on his particular circumstances and missing what Jesus would have us see. The people who made the program are not iconographers. They’re people from all walks of life, religious or non-religious backgrounds who have all sorts of motives. Many of them may be scared and in excruciating pain of one sort or another, as are many of the people who watched the program. Television programs are not important; the people who make them and watch them are important. We should see past television programs to the people and opportunities we have for love and service.
Jesus saw past the sham trial, scourging, and crucifixion to the universe changing impact of His life, death, and resurrection. The thief who asked Jesus to remember him somehow saw past the pain and suffering which he was enduring to God’s grace. We Christians really ought to start being less silly about politics and culture, and we ought to start being more sensitive to the people around us so that we can start being icons of God’s grace and love.
I need to reread St Augstine of Hippo, Martin Luther, and John Calvin on politics and Christian life. I must admit that I’ve forgot most of what I read many years ago. Fr Vassilios has also written briefly on this question. I felt the desire to write on the question of Christian involvement in politics and government because I recently noticed that an Orthodox seminary here in the United States was hosting a conference together with a very pro-capitalist Roman Catholic group. I was initially dismayed because it is hard for me to understand how Christians can reconcile capitalism and right-wing politics with the Christian life. C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton wrote expressing grave doubts about the morality of capitalism in the twentieth century. While of course I believe that my perceptions of reality are based in reality and reading, I also understand that others may hold opposite opinions which they feel to be equally well thought out. What I’m starting to think is that concern with capitalism or socialism or what-have-you, or with pro-choice or pro-life, or gay-marriage, or any issue which may be exciting for people to talk about is, for the Christian, mere distraction. I don’t mean to imply that the various topics are not vitally important in civic life, but for Christians political concerns take our gaze off our Savior.
Christianity has outlived the Roman Empire in both the East and the West. It has outlived the Holy Roman Empire, and Czarist Russia. Christianity has outlived Soviet Russia and will probably outlive democratic regimes in their current form. To the degree which Christianity has suffered it has been because Christians put political concerns before souls. If Roman Catholic bishops had been more concerned with the lives and souls of children in their care, then the scandals in which the Roman Church finds itself would have been much less. If the Orthodox Churches had not so closely aligned themselves with Greece, Russia, or any other country in which they became dominant then perhaps their respective churches would have more respect among the faithful in those countries. If Christians spent more time trying to learn to follow Jesus and love as we are commanded to love, and spent less time trying to maximize political strength, then perhaps we would have more influence among the people whom are we are called to serve and to love.
Love can be very complex in the messy, dirty, real world, but I believe that if we’d lay aside our politics and learn to pray to love, then we’d be on the right track.
Fr Vassilios Papavassiliou has written a lovely book entitled Meditations for Great Lent. The book is a short series of reflections on the readings in the season of the Triodion which comprises the four weeks before Lent, Great Lent, and Holy Week. Fr Vassilios’ writing is, as always, clear, erudite, and pastoral. He shows clearly how the Church has arranged the season to guide the faithful through self-awareness and repentance. The early Fathers of the Church demonstrate a clear perception of human psychology which is demonstrated in the first chapter, “Humility: The Sunday of the Tax Collector and the Pharisee.” When Jesus tells the story of the tax collector and the pharisee in Luke 18:9-14, His intention was to demonstrate the true piety of the tax collector as opposed to the self-aggrandizing “piety” of the pharisee. The Fathers realized that we would tend to become proud of ourselves even in our humility and began the season of the Triodion to remind us that we should always seek identify with the tax collector rather than the pharisee; we should always strive to be humble before God and men (yet not be proud of our humility).
The rest of the book guides us through our continuing struggle to remain humble and not to become proud in our humility. We encounter the story of the Prodigal Son, Jesus’ identification with the poor, destitute, and outcast among us. Fr Vassilios wonderfully demonstrates that, “There is more to Lent than fasting, and there is more to fasting than food” (from the Introduction).
Despite the brevity of the book, Fr Vassilios has put enough insight into it that I expect it to be an enlightening read for years to come.
Fr Vassilios shows his pastoral care throughout the text, but especially when we get to the chapters toward the end of the book: “Lent is characterized by what the Greek Fathers call harmolypi (bright sadness or joyful sorrow). This is because Lent, like repentance, is at the same time both sad and bright, both sorrowful and joyful.” And, “Those who think of Lent purely in terms of fasting and obligations can never fully experience the joy of Lent.” (from Chapter 9, “The Virtue of Joy”).
One of my favorite passages in the book is in the penultimate chapter and is a quote from the Paschal Vigil service:
Have any wearied themselves with fasting? Let them now enjoy their payment. Has anyone labored since the first hour? Let him today receive his due. Did any come after the third hour? Let them feast with gratitude. Did any arrive after the sixth hour? Let them not hesitate: for there is no penalty. Did any delay until after the ninth hour? Let them approach without hesitating. Did any arrive only for the eleventh hour? Let them not fear because of their lateness: for the Lord is generous and receives the last as the first: He gives rest to the worker of the eleventh hour as to those of the first. He has pity on the latter, He cares for the former. He gives to the one, he is generous to the other. He accepts the work done, He welcomes the intention. He honors the achievement, He praises the purpose.
Meditations for Great Lent is a wonderful book for the faithful, and is a great gift as we prepare ourselves for Great Lent (no matter where we are in our process).
There is a joke which asks what the difference between a liturgist and a pit-bull is. The answer, of course, is that one can negotiate with a pit-bull. Father Vassilios Papvassiliou writes about the Divine Liturgy as a priest who takes his vocation, his flock, and humanity seriously, but not without compassion and a sense of humor. He is no mere liturgist. Father Alexander Schmemann described the Divine Liturgy as a journey to the Kingdom of God in his book, For the Life of the World. Father Vassilios takes the metaphor further and invites the reader on a journey along with him and the rest of the Church toward the Kingdom of God. His compassion (and perhaps humor) are noted when he identifies the sacrifice of getting out of bed on Sunday morning for church. Reading the book I felt as if I were standing near Father Vassilios while he celebrated the liturgy and whispered insights over his shoulder to me. The book is conversational without being chatty. The conversation is meant to include “cradle” Orthodox, converts, and the curious; in that sense, the book is a beautiful and heartfelt work of evangelism: reminding the faithful and sharing with everyone else the good news of Christianity (without being condescending or triumphalistic). Father Vassilios reminds the reader that the Orthodox Church is evangelical, but that Orthodox Christians must move beyond their ethnic enclaves, “and once again begin thinking in terms of ‘making disciples of all nations.’”
Throughout the book there are pictures (unfortunately in black and white but the reader must remember the cost) which provide a small insight into the beauty and wonder of Orthodox liturgy. There are also “break out” sections where Father Vassilios provides a bit more insight, historical context, or pastoral wisdom, e.g., on fasting before communion he reminds the reader that “People who are unable to fast—such as those need to take medication in the mornings, women who are pregnant or breastfeeding, and other such cases—are not expected to fast at all before Communion.”
There is an unfortunate tendency to emphasize the “ancientness” of Orthodoxy, as if Orthodoxy by being more ancient than other Christian traditions were more “right,” or “correct” than they. Father Vassilios writes that, “[t]he Liturgy is ‘timeless’ (and it can sometimes feel like that!) because God is beyond time and space, and so at the Divine Liturgy, all things—past, present, future—are brought together before God’s altar.” Father Vassilios brings the ancient, yet eternal faith and liturgy to a twenty-first century audience with wit, grace, and compassion.
The book begins with an invitation to experience the Divine Liturgy, takes the reader on a journey through the Divine Liturgy to the Kingdom of God, and then dismisses the reader: “Only when we truly experience Christ in the Liturgy—when we not only hear of His sacrifice for humankind but also when we celebrate that sacrifice, when we receive Him into our very bodies in Holy Communion, making Him physically one with us, and thus able to proclaim with the disciples, ‘We have seen the Lord! He spoke to us! He ate with us! We have touched Him! We have felt Him! He is alive! He is risen!’—only then can we truly be bearers of ‘the good news;’ only then can we be the light of the world.’”
Journey to the Kingdom sheds much light on the Divine Liturgy of the Eastern Orthodox Church and will perhaps encourage more light in the hearts of readers.
