 + In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Christ is in our midst! He is and ever shall be.
Today, we see a powerful and liberating work of our Lord. The story of Christ casting out the demons from the people of Gerasa occurs in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and we've heard St. Luke's version of the tale a few months ago. There are a few minor differences between the two narratives. St. Matthew recalls two men possessed by demons, while St. Luke only focuses on one. Whether this was two events or two accounts of the same event, the response of our Lord is the same. Christ casts out demons by the power of his love and authority. I will reiterate a few points I preached on this story a few months ago. We see, as the saints tell us, that the demons have no power to destroy the human person, in whom the image of God rests. They can only confuse and bewilder. As in St. Matthew's account, the demons beg Christ not to subject them to vasania, the word rendered in English as "torment," but which more accurately means a kind of hard testing and purification, as if testing the purity of a metal with a touchstone. In St. Luke's account, the demons also beg not to be sent back to the abyss. We cannot know whether this asking is in good faith or not. We struggle at times to understand our own hearts and the hearts of other human beings. The hearts of immaterial and supernatural beings are mysteries known only to God. And yet perhaps we can understand a human analogue to this phenomenon. We can understand the desire to escape suffering and emptiness, to escape the feeling of "abyss" in our own lives, to seek a more real and lasting feeling of stability and reality. And so, in the midst of this, perhaps Christ gives them a chance to try to live differently. Sending them into the bodies of creatures much more simple-minded and less capable of harming and being harmed. Perhaps to teach them a lesson in humility. All of this is speculation, a very tentative "perhaps." But I bring it up as a possibility because of the lessons we might learn as beings far more in touch with the presence of God than the demons are. These demons did not learn their lesson, if such a lesson was intended. They continued their ways of destruction and in so doing sealed their fate. In many cases, in this world, we too may still cause unintended suffering even as we reach for healing. As the Russian theologian Nikolai Berdyaev said, Goodness does not always travel in a straight line. If we cause harm to others as we work on ourselves, we are able to correct our course, seek repentance, and keep walking the line, no matter how many twists and turns it takes. And we are far more fortunate than these pitiable demons, for we have the image of God within us, a radiant light guiding us to the fullness of theosis in truth and love. We stand upon the foundation of the holy Church, and the wisdom of the saints who have come before. Let us turn, then, beloved, to their example. I want to use this gospel passage as a jumping off point to talk about the faithfulness of God's saints, in particular the life and witness of St. James the Just, the earthly brother of our Lord, whose feast was yesterday. At the end of today's gospel, Christ gives an instruction to the man who was freed from the demons. This man wanted to walk with Jesus and be one of his disciples, but Christ gives him a different mission. He says, "Go home, and declare how much God has done for you." Sing about your salvation. Tell the story, again and again and again, to anyone who will listen. Go, and live your life as one who has been forever changed. There is a pressure in many churches to do something like this. Some may call it a "testimony," others "evangelism." We should relieve the pressure we may feel to have a perfect story of our walk with God, wrapped up and tied with a bow. We don't need to puff up our successes, nor do we need to hide them under false modesty. God is present in all of them. Likewise, we don't need to hide our tragedies, nor do we need to wallow in them. God is present in all of them. What we need is to live a life that shines with the light of Christ, and to speak with a humble gospel joy about that life when people ask us about it. To understand how to do this, we turn to St. James. St James, according to tradition, was Joseph's son from a previous marriage. Though not a brother by blood to Christ, he was nonetheless a faithful servant of God and a brother to our Lord in a spiritual and familial sense. In his example, we see a saint who was not silent about the saving love of Christ, but neither was he puffed up or overbearing. He understood very deeply the need to truly live the gospel in word and deed. His epistle is a luminous treatise on the importance of faithful action wedded to firm belief. St James was well respected by the Jewish community and by God-honoring Gentiles alike. He was known as a righteous man, who spent many hours praying in the temple for God's forgiveness and favor upon all the people. He was wise, devout and generous both in spirit and in material giving. I want to quote a short anecdote from a lost gospel favored by St. Jerome, an early church theologian. This gospel, the Gospel of the Hebrews, was not deemed relevant enough to the wider church to enter the Biblical canon, but some of its narratives are quoted approvingly by the fathers and mothers and became a part of holy tradition. In this anecdote, Jesus appears to his brother James after the resurrection: "And when the Lord had given the linen cloth to the servant of the priest, he went to James and appeared to him. For James had sworn that he would not eat bread from that hour in which he had drunk the cup of the Lord until he should see him risen from among them that sleep. And shortly thereafter the Lord said: Bring a table and bread! And immediately it is added: He took the bread, blessed it and brake it and gave it to James the Just and said to him: My brother, eat thy bread, for the Son of man is risen from among them that sleep." Here we see James living out his faith in a way that was particular to him. When Jesus was crucified and buried, James could have done any number of things. Even though he was part of Jesus' earthly family household, he could have chosen to distance himself from Jesus to protect his life and reputation. His respect in the community likely would have kept him safe. And yet he also knew and believed his brother's message, and that his brother was the Son of God, and that his brother would rise again. And so, as a public act of witness, he made a vow not to eat or drink until Christ rose again. He had a deep enough faith to trust that either Christ would rise within the span of time it takes for a human to go hungry, or else God would preserve him for however long it took. He did not undertake any militant campaign of proselytization, but neither was he silent about the truth. He continued to live as his generous, wise and faithful self while witnessing by his actions to Christ. This level of ascetic action is not imposed upon all believers. It is also written not to put the Lord our God to the test. In the case of James, it's clear that he understood that to whom much is given, much is expected. His unique position as both the Lord's brother and a respected temple sage made his act of fasting politically and socially compelling. In our own life of faith, we ought to examine our own lives and consider what the most effective way to live for Christ may be. But I bring up this anecdote to show the importance of living our faith in action as well as in speech. St. James spent many years as the first patriarch of the Jerusalem church. Throughout his life, he faithfully wedded faith and action. He mentored St. Paul, to ensure that Paul's missionary preaching was also rooted in a life of faithfulness. He presided over the council of Jerusalem, and ruled that the faithful living of the Gentiles was enough to include them among the family of God, despite not being raised among the people of Israel. Though he doubtless made many enemies, he remained a faithful follower of Christ and a faithful follower of the Torah in its deepest meaning. He wrote his now-famous encyclical, outlining "the royal law of liberty," and the ways to live out a holistic life for Christ. St. James demonstrated a willingness to speak to his faith when the time came for his martyrdom. The high priest took advantage of a change in Roman leadership to hold a rigged trial, which eventually led to James being stoned and beaten to death with a club. The majority of devout citizens of Jerusalem, both Jewish and Gentile, recognized this punishment as unjust. When some of the scribes and Pharisees encouraged him to recant his faith in Christ to preserve his life, he went to the high place of the Temple and said "Christ himself is seated in heaven at the right hand of the Great Power, and will come upon the clouds of heaven." This enraged them, and they brought him to his death. As he died, he prayed as Christ had prayed, "forgive them, for they know not what they do." Even at that moment, a Jewish onlooker berated the crowd for their violence, saying, "Stop, what are you doing? This just man is praying for us." He was buried by those who loved him, and a pillar was erected in his memory, a testament to how in his life he was a pillar of the Church and of the faith. Martyrdom is a state of life. It is a life lived in love and open witness to the gospel. Sometimes, it leads to persecution and consequences, but this is not always the case. Wherever our lives take us, we can take inspiration from the example of St. James. Bringing together communities at odds with each other. Praying as we are able for the liberation and life of the world. Sharing and receiving from one another in a spirit of generosity, no matter how great or small the gift. And seeking to live a life attuned to the resurrection hope, a life which uplifts those around us with an unbreakable love. May we heed the example of our Lord's brother, and live with the joy of the resurrection God promises to all God's children, letting it transform our lives from the inside out. Amen.
0 Comments
 In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Christ is in our midst! He is and ever shall be.
Today we receive a parable both challenging and approachable. It is challenging because it demands we examine our hearts, recognize what is in them, and act accordingly. It is approachable because the path to change can begin at home, with the tools that are already abundantly available to us by God's grace. We are fortunate to be on this side of history, to be in on the conversation between our Lord and his apostles. Countless explanations might be given for this parable. And indeed, the beauty of our Lord's parables is that their meaning is not exhausted, but grows deeper and deeper as we apply them to our life. Yet at the same time, it is a joy to receive both the parable and its interpretation from Christ himself. The seed is the Word of God. It is the proclamation of God, certainly, the kerygma of the gospel. It is everything Jesus taught. In the days of the prophets, God promised that he would write his word not only in books, but on the hearts of human beings. For us, Christ's teaching is the culmination of that promise, and his saving words bring hope, instruction, insight, compassion and wisdom. Yet if the seed is the Word of God, then it seems apparent that the seed must also be Christ himself. No message, no matter how potent, is completely separable from the messenger. And Christ is both message and messenger par excellence. He is the incarnate Word of God. We can rejoice that we have a living writer who can continually write God's word on our hearts, can be God's word in our hearts. And yet, we are to take care. The seed only grows as well as the soil it is placed in. We ought to pray, hope and work for our hearts to be good soil. When we do this, we must be careful not to assume that the different soils represent different categories of people who are more or less capable of receiving the word. As I ponder this passage, it's worth noting that all of the obstacles Jesus describes are external to the soil itself. There is a path in the way. There is a rock. There are thorns. In each scenario, the fruit is blocked by something on top of or around the soil. What this tells us, beloved, is that we are not doomed to be rocky hearts, or paved hearts, or thorny hearts. Rather, we can prepare our hearts to receive Christ, and this preparation is both simple and approachable. All of us have good soil in our hearts, and to prepare it is much like a kind of spiritual gardening. If we are blocked from the word by pride or delusion, we can practice gentleness, patience, and discernment with a trusted spiritual mentor. If there are rocks, and we feel we would love to receive God but are weighed down with troubles, we can seek support in community, practice a healthy self-care, and pray for the strength to believe a little bit more today thatn we did yesterday. If there are thorns, and we feel that our chasing after one thing or another is distracting us, we can gently, lovingly examine what we might let go of in our lives, and practice a regular habit of prayer and communion with God to the best of our ability. It may take a short while, or a long time, but all we are asked to do is the next good thing in front of us. Today, we celebrate the Seventh Ecumenical Council and the triumph of Orthodoxy. Much has been made of the process of determining what is Orthodoxy, particularly around the seven ecumenical councils. What is often forgotten is the radiant love that our faith receives from them. Each major council was called to respond to a heresy. The purpose of these councils, on a spiritual level, was to take the collective heart of the Church and reorient it to its spiritual center. To re-orient it on the path that Christ and the apostles began to tread. This is an act of love, a reminder that we don't have to have lofty or subtle or complex answers to every question in order to take a step towards Christ. Regrettably, some of the councils did cause collateral damage. Particularly at Ephesus and Chalcedon, there were Orthodox Christians who were rejected because their preaching had become lost in translation between the Byzantine cultural context and the lands further West and East. But the Church has begun to realize these mistakes, and is able to turn away from the heresies these councils responded to while embracing their fellow siblings in Christ under the Oriental Orthodox and Church of the East. The spirit of love that undergirds the councils, the love of Christ, slowly burns away the negativity of human sin. This allows the councils to be true and helpful, while acknowledging that mistakes can be made and their fruition is ongoing. Christ is still speaking, and the wisdom of the saints helps us to recognize his voice when he speaks in our own hearts. The Seventh Council in particular seems to be a particularly resonant example of love enshrined in doctrine. On the surface, the seventh council was the council that validated the use of icons as objects of Orthodox veneration through which we commune with the saints. And this is a true and important meaning. But the deeper meaning was a confirmation of the Orthodox faith, that the material world, and more potently the human person, are vessels of God's abundant grace, able to contain and rightly reflect Christ to one another. We are not perfect, but we are icons of the living God. And in the light of this parable, I can't help but imagine Christ speaking through the result of the council. Imagine Christ taking an icon of me or of you as our truest selves, holding it up to us, and reminding us, "this is who you are." Showing us a beautiful image of ourselves alight with God's love, so that we see our truest face as if for the first time. The joy of the seventh council, as in the parable, is that we are not called to be anyone other than who we are. We are only called to clear away the debris, polish the icon, and position it so that we may reflect the light of Christ to a yearning world. St John the evangelist promises us that, in the fullness of God's redemption, "we shall see God as he is." The blessing of this parable is that God sees us as we are. The blessing of this parable is that, with God's help, day by day, God dwells more deeply and richly in our hearts, and we can see ourselves as God sees us. Amen. |
RSS Feed