advent ember days: our king and saviour draweth nigh

christianity is not a democratic religion. recent liberal protestantism seems determined that it should be, and if one's understanding of christianity comes from the history of religion school that dominates many seminaries, the popular press, and the popular media, one would think that the divinity of christ and his messiahship were the results of a vote held at nicea in 325.

the traditional propers for the advent ember days present a different view.* in the older western lectionary it is on the third sunday in advent that our attention is turned from the last things, the coming of christ at the end of the world, to the coming of christ as jesus of nazareth with a gospel from matthew, and "our ministry" is put into that context with an epistle from 1 corinthians. in contrast, there are no seasonal ember days propers in the newer lectionaries, and the emphasis has, not surprisingly, moved almost solely to the inclusive nature of the people of god and away from the exclusive sovereignty of god. (see, for example, the collects "for the ministry" and "for the mission of the church," pp. 205-206, 256-257, book of common prayer 1979.)

but still we have the advent antiphon on venite, "our king and saviour draweth nigh: o come let us adore him." and this is the true context in which we live our lives and die our deaths.

i have included this rather lengthy historico-polemical introduction because it is easy to forget that the one whose coming we celebrate this season is not an elected official, but the absolute sovereign of the universe. true, we may elect to serve him or to oppose him. but either way, "he cometh, he cometh to judge the earth; and with righteousness to judge the world, and the peoples with his truth."

jesus insistently reminded us that no on can serve two masters. it is remarkable but not coincidental that at no other time of the year than advent does mammon make such inticing claims on us. so, these advent ember days are a sober opportunity for each of us to consider whom one recognizes as king.

*these include isaiah 2:2-5, psalm 24, isaiah 7:10-15, luke 1:26-38, psalm 119:151-152, isaiah 9:1-5, psalm 85, luke 1:39-47, psalm 53, isiah 19:20-22, psalm 19, isaiah 35:1-7, isaiah 40:9-11, isaiah 45:1-8, the song of the three holy children 26-30, benedictus es, 2 thessalonians 2:1-8, and luke 5:1-6. one might notice that there is no lack of mention of the inclusion of all peoples in the kingdom of the holy one.

advent: for he cometh, for he cometh to judge the world

one of the problems of starting blogging is that one feels one should continue blogging, especially during the big times of the year. so, i have been thinking i should say something about advent, but have been hesitant to jump to it. advent is a multi-layered season, because the coming of christ is a multi-layered event, and our celebration of it brings together many parts of that coming at one time.

the earliest observation of advent by the church seems to have been in the fast preceeding not christmas but the ephiphany, which from very early times in the eastern and celtic church has been a time of baptism. that is where the penitential layer, which is much less popular in the west particularly today, comes from. we are not in our "culture" very comfortable with penitence; we tend to focus more on the coming of the new-born king. more and more we use blue advent candles. and the birth of christ, at christmas, is of course also part of the season. but the earlier emphasis in the west was on the second coming, on the last things as we used to say. this is made very clear in the propers in the pre-vatican ii lectinary and missal.

i have been thinking about whether i might write a little something about each of these emphasises, but i think what is suggested by folklorists as an even earlier understanding of this time of the year is something most of us need most, and which would allow us time to explore some of the other gifts of this season, the gift of a new king who would give us a new heart, so that all would be well.

that earliest understanding is reflected, some think, in the advent wreath. the story is that at this time of the year, the dark time with long and cold nights, people would actually take the wheels off their wagons to turn them into chandeliers to light their times together as they waited and encouraged the return of light, telling stories in the glow of the candles.

few of us would not benefit from something similar. rather than make advent a time of making a list and checking it twice, we could sit down and tell each other stories, read to one another, or curl up with candle light and a novel. (i just finished hermann hesse's wonderfully provocative and ironic the glass bead game, a wonderful meditation on, among other things, both penitance and the last things, although i did not expect that when i picked it up.)

there is a beautiful collect in the family prayers section of the book of common prayer we might find helpful:

"o god of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength; by the might of thy spirit lift us, we pray thee, to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art god; through jesus christ our lord. amen."

i confess i was even more pagan after reading hesse: i had a little campfire last night to celebrate the beautiful advent vesper light, and the encourage the return of light and warmth.

st. john of damascus

john of damascus would probably have a much harder time these days than he did in the seventh and eighth centuries. in the seventh and eighth centuries the struggle between christians and muslims was hardly off the ground. he is famous for his hymns, but even more famous for his defense of icons.

what i find so fascinating about his defense of icons is that he was able to write his treatises, usually called on the holy images, because he had the protection of his muslim friends. he had been born in damascus, his father had worked for the caliph, and he had as well before he retired to the desert of palestine. he, as did many of his contemporaries, thought of the muslims as another christian heresy.

ironically, it is usually thought that the orthodox aversion to icons at this time was because the muslims looked upon the holy images as a violation of the second commandment.

had he remained closer to the centers of power and orthodoxy during the iconoclastic controversy, john would probably been severely punished; almost certainly his treatises would not have been published. but working at the fringes of imperial power, he was protected by the caliph and produced the work that led to his often being called "the last of the fathers."

a great week of saints

st. cedd, st. alfred the great, st. frumentius, st. neot and sts. simon and thaddeus all have come up this week. oddly enough, there are quite a lot of connexions between them.

cedd of course is the brother of my patron, chad, but he was also one of the most southern-traveling of the northumbrians, and worked in the territory of which alfred was king. (if alfred had not won at edington, you might be reading this in a language which, even if after 1066 and all that sounded much the same, would be called danish.) alfred was the patron of neot of glastonbury, a scholar and monk who was very influential on alfred. at a time when most kings were pretty bloody even if they were christian (think of my patronymic ancester, cadwaladr, who was a "christian" but who allied himself again and again with the pagan penda in wars against the christian kings of northumbria), alfred truly was a kinder and gentler sort of ruler.

neot shares his feast day with ss. simon and jude, who amongst other things were missionaries to persia. jude is also known as thaddeus, and in persia is called addai, the composer of the liturgy of sts. addai and mari, also used by the church in abbysinia, whose founder was st. frumentius.

the old testament reading for today's feast of simon and jude from isaiah (28:9-16) seems appropriate to all of these saints: "precept upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; . . . i lay in zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation; he that believeth shall not make haste."

and of course with all of them the collect for today is appropriate:

"O ALMIGHTY God, who hast built thy Church upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the head corner-stone; Grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their doctrine, that we may be made an holy temple acceptable unto thee; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

commemoration of st. frideswide

with the feast of luke the evangelist and iconographer and the new martyrs of russia available for consideration, why should i choose to mention the somewhat obscure 8th century mercian abbess frideswide? i chose to write about her because the history of the modern western church seems to be described by the history of her foundation. i can probably do no better than to quote her story from fr. beverly c. hughson o.h.c.'s athletes of god, pp. 335-336:

"this saint was a mercian abbess, the daughter of a prince who lived at oxford early in the eighth century. the old story is that algar, a neighboring prince, sought her hand in marriage. fearing lest her father would compel her to accept his addresses, she fled from oxford with two nuns in a boat, rowed by an angel in the likeness of a young man clothed in white, and took refuge in a wood near abingdon. many stories similar to this are told of this holy virgin. there is no question, however that she founded a convent at oxford and for many years devoted herself to the service of the poor and outcast. her convent was in later times given to the augustinian canons, and it was acquired by cardinal wolsey for his cardinal college, which afterwards became christ church. the chapel of this college, which was built in the twelfth century, is now the cathedral church of the oxford diocese. the bones of the saint were cast out of their tomb [see photo above] in the chapel in the reign of edward vi, and those of the wife of peter martyr, the reformer, enshrined in their stead. under queen mary the bones of the intruding lady were removed, and the relics of st. frideswide restored. when elizabeth came to the throne, she ordered the former to be returned to the shrine without disturbing those of the saint. so now it is said that they both rest in the same shrine, and those who go to venerate the relics of the saint have opportunity of contemplating the remains of her strange bedfellow."

monasticism in its early days was often an attempt to escape from the growing worldly politics in which the church was becoming engaged. frideswide's refusal of a political marriage and the privileges it would provide were well understood and appreciated in the early british church. consider the legend of the seven desert fathers who brought monastic christianity to wales and cornwall, and the popularity of the visit of st. anthony to st. paul as the bottom image on standing crosses.

but monasticism, too, came to be a source of power, rather than of seeking one thing: to know god. st. frideswide's abbey became an augustinian house. then the royally established episcopacy took over, and cardinal woolsey made it into a "college." at first colleges were legitimate institutions for christian learning, one may hope. but the despotic rule of henry, which the reformers thought they could turn to their advantage, made cardinal college a royal establishment instead, although cleverly named not king's (that would happen at the even more protestant cambridge) but christ college.

now even the bones of the monastic foundress were removed, and those of a foreign-born scholar replaced them. with the elizabethan settlement, all the bones were thrown in together, a somewhat macabre pre-curser of the claims of the history channel, for example, which claims that truth is to be found simply by considering everyone's "opinions." it is sad to consider that the pharisees have prevailed in so much of the modern church.

st. thais

i admit right up front that one of the reasons i decided to post on the commemoration of st. thais is to have a link to joshua bell's playing of the interlude in massenet's opera. but the real life of the penitent saint and the story as told by the romantic massenet are slightly different. paphnutius was not so distracted by her physical beauty as to be driven mad. rather he was given a vision of a throne awaiting some saint in heaven. he assumed it would be for s. anthony, but he was told instead that it awaited s. thais, the penitent, who reposed only fifteen days after entering the desert monastery.

praying the scriptures

a letter from a friend arrived yesterday with a very useful problem. ryan knight is a campus minister at a large state school. he is thinking of introducing praying the scripture to his students, but they are already having trouble understanding praying the psalms. so i thought about this as i walked out to the county's highest ridge, with a view of the kings river.

i had recently sent him one very practical book on the subject, which i did not yet know he had not read. oh well. but i thought, another book is probably not going to be much help anyway.

and it dawned on me that praying scripture is really very simple:
think about someone you love very much.
imagine that person in serious trouble.
think of yourself praying for that person.
think how you would want the holy one to listen to your prayer.
read scripture listening that way.

we are the ones whom god loves very much.
we are in serious trouble, and not for our sins only, but for the sin of the world.
the holy one speaks to us in scripture.
our listening is praying the scripture.

the next problem ryan came up with is that many of his students are still in denial that they are in serious trouble. but that is why so much of the scripture is stories. they catch us up in ways we aren't expecting. but that's perhaps the subject of another post.

eucharist & christology

the past few days i am thinking about the eucharist (ian t. ramsey, ed. london: s.c.m. press, 1972), particularly about the anglican eucharist in ecumenical perspective (edward p. echlin, s.j. new york: the seabury press, 1968), because i am starting a mission and the eucharistic rite we use is an ecumenical version of an anglican usage.

my thinking has led to several observations.

in times of great change in our understanding of epistemology and ontology, such as occured at the time of the reformation and is occuring now, in what we often call the post-modern era, the church is forced to rethink its understanding of the euchrarist in a very fundamental way if she is going to be able to make that understanding "understanded of the people." this seems obvious, but what may not be so obvious is how comprehensive eucharistic theology is. our understanding of the eucharist is interwoven with our understanding of the world.

as those understandings change, we look for authorities to support our new understandings. archbishop cramner looked to the continental reformers, especially martin bucer and peter martyr. the archbishops of york and canterbury in these days look to a "commission" drawn from the various academic "disciplines." the editors of "the liturgy of st. tikhon" looked to the russian church, which is seen, perhaps wrongly, as having preserved the tradition without the controversies of the reformation.

but seldom is eucharistic theology discussed in clearly christological terms. (welcome exceptions are the essays by j.l. houlder and h.e.w. turner in thinking about the euchraist.) it seems that much of the argument that accompanied the reformation and counter-reformation, as both the "catholic" and "protestant" parties of the western church tried to adjust their understanding of the eucharistic events to the new science, might have been helped by thinking of the bread and wine in terms of the definition chalcedon: the statements that are made about jesus christ as both man and god apply also to the bread and wine.

the "moment" of consecreation is not much discussed in the archbishops' book, but it has remained a point of contention for many who have written about the eucharistic event. father echlin, with fine jesuitical understanding, insists that oblation, anamnasis, and epiclesis are all necessary for the consecration. if we extrapolate from this to the acts of our lord, on maundy thursday, good friday, and either, in the johannine tradition, easter evening, or, in the lucan tradition, pentecost, then we have a parallel suggestion of events, actions, that are necessary for our salvation. then, of course, it may well be suggested that our salvation is the prelude and requirement for our sanctification.

so, i am led to another observation. one of the matters of contention during the reformation, brought up again in england during the oxford movement days, but now not getting much ink, was how the eucharist is a sacrifice, and if it is, is there an immolation. one of the reasons i am partial to the english rite is that it includes a self-oblation. it makes very clear that not only the bread and wine which are the body and blood of christ are made holy (which is the basic meaning of sacrifice), but the body of christ as the church gathered is made holy. our old selves are immolated, as we are sent out in the power of the spirit to be christ's body in the world.

the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross

today is one of my favourite holidays. when i first read the collect last night during the first vespers, i was at first a little disappointed. the old western collect is patterned after traditional jewish blessings: we thank god for giving us this celebration, and pray we may receive the benefits of it. but as i thought more about it, it seemed a wise way to approach such a complicated feast, with its look back to a wide range of old testament prophecies, and forward to a wide range of their fulfillments. in a way this feast is a recapitulation of all the old testament, not only a reminder that we're halfway to pasch, but also that we're halfway to the readings of the paschal vigil.

i found two of the posts at the blog, full of grace and truth to be particularly rich for this day. the first is for the day itself, and the second recognizes moses in the feast.

the first feast of the new year

on the eighth day of the first month of the year we celebrate the nativity of the blessed virgin mary, the theotokos.

the collect for this day is rich:

"we beseech thee, o lord, to bestow on us thy servants the gift of thy heavenly grace: that as the child-bearing of the blessed virgin was to us the beginning of salvation; so the devout observance of her nativity may avail for the increasing of our peace. through jesus christ thy son, our lord: who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the holy ghost, ever one god, world without end. amen.

of course it makes sense to pray for the gift of grace on a feast of the one who is full of grace. and the collect recognizes that the beginning of our salvation is the incarnation of our lord. but the next part has more references than we might immediately recognize. in part the petition for peace is an allusion the prophet ezekiel's description of the temple with the closed gate, which is a source of much of our imagery regarding the theotokos. but it is also a reminder of the role the blessed virgin plays in the whole church. she is, as the one who both hears and does the word, as the one who bears the christ, the model for the whole church. (think of her central place in the icon of pentecost.)

and so it is for the peace of the church that we pray in this final petition of the collect. what we do not have, we cannot share.

a footnote to this feast and the peace of the church is provided by the association for the promotion of the reunion of christendom, a short-lived organization which urged the church to pray for peace during the octave of the feast.

a new year begins

the orthodox church, following the calendar presented to moses, starts the new year this month. it is the month of the anniversary of creation (which actually comes at the 14th, on the lunar calendar, but it's the spirit that counts, or something--i personally start my year on holy cross day, the 14th, which is close to the lunar date.)

in honor of the new year, i thought this link to patriarch bartholomew's encyclical might be appropriate.

st. bartholomew's day: a wonder for nathaniel bar tholomew

"may the words of mouth always find favor,
and the whisperings of my heart,
in your presence, YHWH,
my rock, my redeemer." psalm 19:14, (jerusalem bible)

what, i wonder, were the words
whispering in nathaniel's hearts as
he sat under his fig tree.

i wonder if they could have been
jacob's dream of the ladder, well
before he became israel without guile.

(i wonder if even in john's gospel
jesus knew such things
as this. yes?)

i wonder how long nathaniel
would keep his ironic humor:
"rabbi, you are the son of god."

i wonder if it were jesus'
ironic humor,
"there is an israelite who deserves
the name, in capable of deceit,"
that drew nathaniel bartholomew
to follow.

i wonder, was it the search for the ladder
that would take this israelite to india,
carrying the gospel book in his native tongue.

i wonder, that spring day by the gallilean sea,
if nathaniel's heart murmered to wander
so far, even with the king of israel.

and, i wonder if it were only in albana,
by the caspian sea,
that he saw the ladder,
as his guileless skin
was pulled from his
faithful body.

call me historian, not christian

i read too much, and seldom do i listen.

lately i have been reading fredrick denison maurice's work. he is a rather unusual historian in that he is not so interested in learning the past that we might avoid the mistakes, but that we might enjoy the wisdom. and he is especially interested in christian unity, as i am, too. (see my posts from february, 2008.) but he still speaks in terms of the wisdom of quakers, and lutherans, and unitarians.

there is a little group that meets on friday nights for soup and bread, sometimes pie, and the gospel of mark. i am usually the historical arse, finishing people's statements with historical insights. history often is just the academic word for gossip. (think of footnotes: the most pedantic way of saying "he said 'she said'".)

last night, in that modest little group, i heard the word of the lord. it came, not surprisingly, gently, with no elaboration. the denominational backgrounds of the little group are varied, and therefore actually a help to each other. but, i the historian, have difficulty letting go of the past. so as we were casually ending the discussion, i referred to two very dear friends as "the lutherans."

marilyn quietly said, "we are not lutherans, dale, but christians." wow! the meaning in the depths of simple words has been been echoing in my hollow head all the hours since. i thought i needed to look for the unity of the church, and here it was, gathered around my little table, as we broke bread together.

there are none so deaf as i, who will not hear.

the dormition of the blessed virgin mary

there have of course been many thousands of pages written about the theotokos, and some of the earliest are accounts of her dormition, starting with evodius, the second bishop of antioch. i don't need to add much to the pages; a good review of many of the topics are clearly posted at a byzantine christian. i would direct you to the reading for celebrations of the blessed virgin on saturdays after trinity in the traditional benedictine missal:

"and it came to pass, as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked. but he said, yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of god, and keep it." (luke 11:27-28)

the first part of this gospel is the part picked up in discussions about mary that center, as most of them do and as lance discussed in his post, on the nature and person of her son. but the second part, the words spoken by jesus, point us to the nature and person of jesus herself. it is her hearing the word of god, and keeping it, which is at the heart of her singular role in our salvation. a few years ago there was a book by marina warner, alone of all her sex, which traced mary as, among other things, a model of feminism in western culture. it could however as easily been titled "alone of any sex," so singular is she.

i can't end without posting a link to my favourite hymn of this fest, "ave stella maris", here in a setting by monteverdi. it is the hymn in the benedictine second vespers for the feast.

musings on evangelism, 2

now for the good news: the spread of the kingdom doesn't require that my life is remarkable. it wouldn't hurt, but the good news is not that some of my friends are worried about their real estate investments, or not, nor that i, who live on social security, am worried about how many books my stipend will buy this month, or not.

rather, of first importance, the good news is that god was in christ, reconciling the world to himself. we are more accustomed to hearing that as god so loved the world that he gave his only son. indeed, that's on quite a few of the t-shirts walking round eureka springs on any given saturday.

god so loved the world: me, with all my books; my friends who find their real estate investments more enslaving than liberating; the earnest young man on the plaza clinging to his bible as he spoke; the lesbian couple who came to stand by me because, they said, i was peaceful.

what people need, what "saves us" (i.e., heals us, makes us whole), is to know the love of god, and to love in return. some of us remember when each sunday the anglican rite started with the words, "hear what our lord jesus christ saith. thou shalt love the lord thy god with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. this is the first and great commandment. and the second is like unto it; thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."

i said that if i were to preach at the park on a saturday morning, i would start with the eighth chapter of the gospel according to john. that's the story of the woman caught in the actual act of adultery. what jesus says to her, after all her accusers have gone, is remarkable: "neither do i condemn thee. now go and sin no more." as all gospel stories do, this one seems rather hard. likewise hard is the reading from the eighteenth chapter of st. luke in this morning's daily office. a certain ruler comes to jesus to find out what he needs to "do to inherit eternal life?" jesus tells him that he must "sell all tht thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shall have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me. and when [certain ruler] heard this, he was very sorrowful: for he was very rich."

we do not really know the responses of the woman caught in adultry or of the ruler. perhaps they followed jesus' command, even if the ruler were sorrowful at first. if indeed they did, their lives would probably have been as remarkable as anthony of the desert's. but we do know that jesus said about that the difficulty for those of us with richest to enter the kingdom of god, that "the things which are impossible with men are possible with god." and we do know that not all of us achieve sanctity immediately. remember that st. mark, whose gospel we have been reading on friday nights, was sent away by paul. but he went on to accompany peter in jerusalem, to write the gospel, and to become the first bishop of alexandria.

even if the life of christians are not always so remarkable as we might wish, the total life of the church neverless is. we are part of that great cloud of witness which includes the blessed virgin mary, apostles, martyrs, confessors, and those of us who worry about our mortgages and retirement funds. the holy one may have finished the work of creation, perhaps even the work of salvation (in the sense that if i were to tell someone the time and date of my salvation, i would probably say 3:00 p.m. 4 april a. d. 31, judean local time), but the work of sanctification continues, and the inclusion of more and more of the people the holy one loves into the body of those being sanctified continues.

there is, your see, nothing intrinsically wrong about t-shirts or houses or books, or love of another human being. but as we come to know and love the holy one, our love for all of these other things falls into perspective and is rightly ordered. that is good news indeed.

musings on evangelism

the topic of the past week has been evangelism. i had not invited it, at least not consciously, but i suppose my pretensions to starting a congregation has its own invitations. anyway, the topic first presented itself when i was the luncheon guest of the new episcopal vicar. we were talking about the attraction of eureka springs. i suggested that it has always been a place of healing, and that is still it's attraction, even for those who come on harley-davidson's, even though we have overlaid it with great numbers of greedy t-shirt stores and motels.

it was usual for desert monks to have a few books. st. athanasius' cell was remarkably free of books. when he was asked about that, he said that creation is an open book to those who have eyes to see. eureka springs seems like one of those places, and the opposition to its role as a revelation of the creator seems much like the same sort of opposition that occurs to other forms of the holy one's revelation, especially in scripture and in the incarnation of god the son.

friday night, as the little group that meets at my house for soup and the gospel of mark were discussing the fourth chapter of that gospel, one of the participants said, in real surprise, "why are we talking about evangelism?" for most of us evangelism has become a discomforting word, and we wondered why. it was, i suggested, because the word has been coopted by those whose take on evangelism is the question, "if you died tonight, where would you spend eternity?" the gospel of mark, the good news of our lord jesus christ according to mark, starts with jesus saying, "repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." there is no suggestion that the kingdom needs to wait until we die.

the little group also recognized, however, that the church often falls far short of actually living in the kingdom. we wondered whether there were any noticeable difference common to those of us who considered ourselves christians and those of our neighbors who do not consider themselves christians. it was certainly difficult to see much difference in morality.

one of the participants suggested that she had been taught as a young lutheran in catechism class that a christian is one who knows whom to thank. i added that for orthodox christians, it is also how to thank. we have again and again noticed in reading mark's gospel that people gathered in great numbers around jesus, who often was trying to escape for a while.

there was a fairly large gathering saturday morning in downtown eureka springs' basin park. it was one of the four annual "diversity weekends," and although i usually avoid downtown on weekends (for reasons alluded to above under the heading of greedy t-shirt shops), i thought it wouldn't hurt me to see more of the town in which i have come to live, and i was particularly curious about a group called "jericho riders" who have noticeably appeared on diversity weekends to perform "street preaching"--in other words, something that probably would be described by its practitioners as "evangelism." i listened to one of the earnest young men for a little while, went off to write a rather depressed letter to a friend, and came back to talk with the "preacher." i confess i find what he and the jericho riders were doing to be about as far from evangelism as i could imagine. to start with, they were "proclaiming" certain passages from paul's writings, mostly from his letters to the corinthian church, with no concern for how the passages they quoted worked within the structure of paul's letters and thought, nor with any appreciation that the audience in the park were mostly not church members. paul's letters were pointedly to church members. i thought that if i were going to preach to that crowd, i would probably start with the eighth chapter of john's gospel.

but evangelism i expect seldom occurs when some one decides that some group of "others" needs a good preaching. evangelism happened in the new testament, and it could happen still, when people who call themselves christians live lives that are remarkable enough to make people curious. jesus pointedly reminded us that where our treasure is, there we will find our hearts. for those of us whose main concern is the value of our real estate or retirement investments, or whose christianity consists of motor-cycle jackets with crosses decorating them, there's nothing to make anyone curious.

a prayer for the church

really, i am not picking on the episcopal church. it is merely a rather visible example of what one finds in so much of the protestant world today, in which one may receive the communion cup from an avowed hindu after not having recited the creed because it is no longer found relevant.

it is in this context which i offer the following prayer for the church, compiled in 1799 by the rev. dr. william smith for the diocese of connecticut as part of the service for the installation of a rector:

"ALMIGHTY God, who hast built thy Church upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone; Grant that, by the operation of the Holy Ghost, all Christians may be so joined together in unity of spirit, and in the bond of peace, that they may be an holy temple acceptable unto thee. And especially to this Congregation present, give the abundance of thy grace; that with one heart they may desire the prosperity of thy holy Apostolic Church, and with one mouth may profess the faith once delivered to the Saints. Defend them from the sins of heresy and schism; let not the foot of pride come nigh to hurt them, nor the hand of the ungodly to cast them down. And grant that the course of this world may be so peaceably ordered by thy governance, that thy Church may joyfully serve thee in all godly quietness; that so they may walk in the ways of truth and peace, and at last be numbered with thy Saints in glory everlasting; through the merits of the same thy blessed Son Jesus Christ, the gracious Bishop and Shepherd of our souls, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen."

Although written to be used in a particular congregation, it seems useful for the wider church as well.

thoughts towards independence day

in bellingham, on elm, waiting for a bus to take me to fairhaven. the view towards the north is a regular rhythm of porch piedments. the counter rhythm is runners making the most of this long day in a short summer.

the bus comes and transfers me to fairhaven: everyone is speaking the patois of the pacific northwest to a soundtrack of sufyan phillips. we are all heartbreakingly cool, spiraling around a core of nihilism. the headlines say we are more optimistic this week, but i feel as if i am at a new masque of the red death, where the little face-masques on bamboo elegant handles have been replaced by bmw's or saabs or mercedes-benzes. we handle them by power steering wheels, but they just let us feel we're in control. all the roads we follow so carefully lead to baghdad.

around the world this sunny morning, bombs are falling, dawn's early light still challenged by the rocket's red glare.

here in the cafe, we are safe. smoking is not allowed.

reading numbers after easter

in december last year i started using the 1943 american daily office lectionary because i wanted to go through the book of ezekiel again. these days we're reading the book of numbers each morning.

reading numbers these days after easter is a very wise choice. after the miracle of deliverance that is the passover ("the horse and rider he has thrown into the sea!") comes not the promised land but the desert, the wilderness. of course the people of god do our usual bitching and moaning. but as the readings this week remind us, the enemy never doubts the reality of what is happening. although the children of israel then just as we now complain about just about everything, doubting their and our salvation, balak and company never seem to doubt for a moment the necessity of stopping us and them.

i am disappointed that the wiser-than-the-writers-of-genesis editors of the lectionary decided to demythologize the story, leaving out balaam's ass. alas. we forget that the holy one loves not just us folks who smugly call ourselves, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, homo sapiens. we would do well to pay attention to what the rest of creation is revealing to us.

pentecost ember saturday

i was somewhat amazed when i did a google image search for priest to find an illustration for this post. i know that the christian priesthood is little regarded these days, but i didn't think it would take me to the fifth page to find a suitable image.

but that difficulty only points out more the appropriateness of this prayer written by father william doyle,s.j., m.c., on this pentecost ember saturday:

"o my god, pour out in abundance thy spirit of sacrifice upon thy priests.
it is both their glory and their duty to become victims,
to be burnt up for souls,
to live without ordinary joys,
to be often the objects of distrust, injustice, and persecution.

the words they say every day at the altar,
"'his is my body, this is my blood,'
grant them to apply to themselves:
'i am no longer myself, i am jesus, jesus crucified.
i am, like the bread and wine, a substance no longer itself,
but by consecration another."

o my god, i burn with desire for the sanctification of thy priests.
i wish all the priestly hands which touch thee were hands whose touch is gentle and pleasing to thee,
that all the mouths uttering such sublime words at the altar should never descend to speaking trivialities.

"let priests in all their person stay at the level of their lofty functions,
let every man find them simple and great, like the holy eucharist,
accessible to all yet above the rest of men.
o my god, grant them to carry with them from the mass of today,
a thirst for the mass of tomorrow,
and grant them, ladened themselves with gifts,
to share these abundantly with their fellow men. amen."

if this prayer were fulfilled, the it might more easily follow that the same "level of their lofty functions" might also be fulfilled in all the body of christ.

a new project

for the past two years or so i've been blessed to attend, when in eureka springs, a writers' group that meets at studio 62. besides enjoying the fascinating diversity of the group's writings, i've been disciplined to write something every week. part of the results have been the blog the ring of the lord.

having finished that series, i've decided to try to emulate john keble, whose series of poems, the christian year was very popular in the 19th century. i don't expect my work to become as popular as his, but i do think that the kind of thinking it will make me do will be very helpful in at least my own formation in the mind of christ. i hope that the blog will be helpful to others as well.

pentecost ember days

one of the reasons j. michael matkin and i became such good friends was discovering that we both read t.s. eliot's four quartets at the ember days. for a while we put on public readings of them in a coffee house in bellingham at the four seasons, within an evensong with readings. i was delighted therefore to find this string quartet by patrick handler based on east coker.

it makes me want to do the same thing in eureka springs. (by the way, michael's not-updated-frequently-enough blog is at aidan's ghost.

whit-week

and what, you might well wonder, is that picture. it is a sheep door. i am posting it because it illustrates today's (whit tuesday's) gospel. and i like that whitsunday, pentecost, lingers a bit, that it has an octave.

you see, for me the fifty days have passed rather too quickly. they have been great big ol' days, starting with a huge rain which, although it certainly could remind one of one's baptism and the need to be thankful, also moved the lighting of the new fire inside, where i was so excited about the eve of easter that i forgot the psalms in the vigil.

now, fifty-two days later, i find myself still on pivot rock road, where i had not expected to be able to stay, and where i celebrated the eve of pentecost amongst the green fire of beltane and said the kneeling prayers of pentecost vespers and still found that i wanted more of this amazing season.

so i am happy that the gelasian sacramentary and the apostolic constitutions gave us proper readings to celebrate monday and tuesday of this week. then pope gelasius reiterated the importance of the ember days this week, and a few hundred years later proper readings for thursday were added, making this a week for considering what happened, how were we changed during the great fifty days, and what lies ahead of us as ministers of the glory of the holy one. (the first octaves were in the west those of easter and pentecost, in the east that of the epiphany; pretty clearly days of recollection for the newly baptized.)

it is in this context that i found perhaps the most meaningful readings of these last few days amongst the texts for the first vespers of pentecost:

". . . thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondsman in egypt." (deuteronomy 16:12a)
and
". . . reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (romans 8:18)

i am no longer in egypt; i may find myself in a desert, i may chose to be in a desert, but i am free. the revelation of the glory awaits.

rogation days

the three days before the feast of the ascension have been called since the sixth century rogation days, which many of us have probably forgotten if we had ever heard of them. yet they are days which seem to have considerable spiritual significance beyond what appears, perhaps,on the surface.

their background is fascinating in itself, since both their time and the usual content of their prayers--rogation means praying, or supplicating--originally had very different associations.

in 470 there were devastating earthquakes following a volcanic eruption, and mamertus, bishop of vienne, called for three days of "litanies" for relief. the prayers were considered successful.

the christian tradition of litanies seems to have originated around 375, when they are spoken of by st. basil the great as innovative penitential services. their wider content as more than penitential prayers seems to have been originated by st. john chrysostom as an orthodox response to arian responsive, sung, processional prayers.

as prayers on the three days before the ascension, however, they quickly lost their connection to volcanoes and earthquakes, and their popularity spread through gaul to england, where they were adopted by the council of cloveshoo in 741.

the most usual prayer for the days in the english world is thomas cramner's english litany of 1544, as it has been adapted through the years and throughout the english speaking church.

we have come to associate that litany--"the great litany" in the english prayer book tradition--with days of penitance, and it is now most often sung on the first sundays of advent and lent. but it originally was used as a sort of general intercession in the vernacular as part of regular sunday worship, a position it still holds, in theory, in the church of england. cramner was aware of the role of litanies in the eastern church, in which the deacon and congregation sing responsive prayers. his liturgy, however, combined intercessions from eastern sources with roman and lutheran prayers, as well as those of his own composing.

in the reign of elizabeth 1, the praying of that litany, in procession around the parish boundaries, was required on the rogation days of each parish. in the gallic countries, the litany most often included requests for the prayers of many saints which were dropped from the english litany by the reformers. these days we are much more likely to pray the litany along a much smaller route, with such changes as our current theological squeemishness seems to require.

and, the rogation days have come to be more and more concerned with the prospering of our crops, with the fruit of the earth, not about avoiding earthquakes, although one could i suppose argue that those are two sides of the same coin. one can seen this in one of the 1928 american prayer book collects for the days:

"almighty god, who hast blessed the earth that it should be fruitful and bring forth whatsoever is needful for the life of man, and hast commanded us to work with quietness, and eat our own bread; bless the labours of the husbandman, and grant such seasonable weather that we may gather in the fruits of the earth, and ever rejoice in thy goodness, to the praise of thy holy name; through jesus christ our lord. amen."

but there is i think an appropriateness to praying for the earth on these days which recognizes part of the vastness of salvation. just as the incarnation was not only for us sinful men, neither was the ascension just for us redeemed men. all creation takes part in this great salvation, and our prayers on these days recognizes that wonder.

moving feasts

i was surprised saturday to find the ninth of may listed as the feast day of gregory of nazianzus, who is usually called in the orthodox church gregory the theologian. i am accustomed to celebrating his feast on the 25th of january, just before the feast of the the three holy heirarchs. a check in wikipedia told me it was just a mistake: the western church once thought gregory had died on the ninth of may.

but i was particularly glad to be reminded of gregory because i am currently reading a clumsily written but insightful book by ephraim radner and philip turner, the fate of communion. one of the most important things the book says, i think, is found in one of turner's notes: ". . . the most serious issue in respect to ecclesial integrity and tolerable diversity that faces the anglican communion does not concern women's ordination or the ethics of sex, but attempts to diminish or rid ecusa's book of common prayer of the use of the trinitarian name, father, son, and holy spirit." (n. 21, page 125)

some of the most shocking words in the liturgy of st. john chrysostom, one of the holy hierarchs, called a doctor of the church in the west, come after communion, when the faithful chant, "we have seen the true light; we have received the heavenly spirit; we have found the true faith, worshiping the undivided trinity, for the trinity has saved us." unfortunately, even among those who call themselves christians in these days of post-modern non-dogmatic absolute dogmaticism, the idea of there being a "true light," a "true faith," is an anathema. even more unfortunately, within what calls itself christianity these days there is very little real belief in salvation. we are not saved. we have just become inculturated. we want to be seen as just as nice as anyone else.

turner has succinctly described this situation in an article in first things.

most unfortunately, this concern for our own acceptance rather than concern for the salvation of the world lets the devil take the hindmost. we can always use a good dose of gregory's passionate concern for truth, true light, true faith, and true love, which is not willing that any should perish.

the creation of the earth

today in the religion of american consumerism is "earth day." i have been amazed at how many products, from television networks to aluminum foil manufactuers, have become "green" this week.

the church takes a somewhat different view of the earth. it is part of creation, the part of creation over which mankind is given dominion. this dominion of the earth is of course a problem for us, and has been for a very long time. never willing to curb our consumerism, we want the very things we are told are not ours. you have probably heard this story. it is sometimes called "the fall."

proper dominion is revealed to us in what most translations of the gospels call "the kingdom of god" or in matthew's gospel, "the kingdom of heaven," the sacred name being considered by matthew too holy to even insinuate. a better translation might be "the dominion of god," not only because it means much the same thing but even more importantly because then the parables of the kingdom become parables of the dominion and we are told how we should exercise our relationship to the rest of creation.

the liturgy has a daily reminder of our role within creation, not as something apart of it but as particularly iconic creatures. each day we are given the opportunity to sing:

Benedicite, omnia opera Domini:
"O all ye Works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Angels of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.

O ye Heavens, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Waters that be above the firmament, bless ye the
Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Powers of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Sun and Moon, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Stars of heaven, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Showers and Dew, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Winds of God, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Fire and Heat, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Winter and Summer, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Dews and Frosts, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Frost and Cold, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Ice and Snow, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Nights and Days, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Light and Darkness, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Lightnings and Clouds, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.

O LET the Earth bless the Lord: * yea, let it praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Mountains and Hills, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Green Things upon the earth, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Wells, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Seas and Floods, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Whales, and all that move in the waters, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Fowls of the air, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Children of Men, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.

O LET Israel bless the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Priests of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Servants of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Spirits and Souls of the Righteous, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye holy and humble Men of heart, bless ye the Lord: * praise him, and magnify him for ever.

Let us bless the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost: * praise him, and magnify him for ever."

maundy thursday: night-ruler

"and god made . . . the lesser light to rule the night." (gen. 1:16)

this moon,
this full, nisan moon,
is full as no other moon can be.

it is brimfull,
as cana's stone jars.

this full moon,
"the fourteenth day of the first month,
at even,
is the lord's passover."

by this moon's light
the angel of death saw the blood
on the door posts
and the mothers of egypt saw the death masks
on their first-borns.

this moon lighted the way for judas,
and it was night.

this moon, rising, watched joseph of arimathea
entomb the messiah,
sealing the entrance with moon-round stone.
this moon, setting, watched the myrh-bearing women
hurry to the tomb,
finding the stole rolled away.

is, i wonder,
is this full moon willful?
has, i wonder,
has this moon chosen such sights?

i think not.
rather i think this full moon,
night-ruler though she be,
groaneth with all creation
to see the redemption of all.

how often, i wonder, does this same full moon
whose cold light fell on james, and john,
and peter, sleeping,
how often lightens me,
sleeping despite the groans around me?

"my ways are not your ways, says the lord:" thoughts in the night about the feast of st. gregory the great

my earliest introduction to the church bigger than the enlightenment congregationalism of walnut street baptist, a severely georgian building filled with the hymns of watts and, at least in the evenings or wednesdays, of crosby, was in the modestly romanesque blessed sacrament (roman catholic) church. at walnut street the choir entertained us with anthems and contatas by handel and stainer, standing up front behind the pulpit and in front of the baptistry, all the while attired in robes that coordinated well with the adam green walls. at blessed sacrament the choir was invisible, but filled the dark red brick space with ethereal, heavenly, music that wounds its way amongst the plaster virgin and attendent saints to join the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven in one great hymn of unending praise.

i knew this was holy music because on the christmas eves i attended midnight mass at blessed sacrament, snow would be falling when we left in obedience to "ite. missa est. alleluia."

that music was of course gregorian chant, not written by pope st. gregory the great (ca. 540-604) but developed and systemized and encouraged by him.


these days neither gregorian chant nor gregory the man are so widely appreciated as they were from the time he, among other achievements, saved rome from the lombards, until my childhood, a period of thirteen and a half centuries.

it is about this change of attitude towards gregory that is so much of and so representative of our "modern thought" that occupies my meditation in the night watches early in the morning of his feast.

he really did exhibit in his own life the humility that let him honestly call himself the servant of the servants of god, yet he exercised the office of the roman papacy in a way that tenaciously upheld the primacy of the roman see. he did this largely because he had been an ambassador, the apocrisiarius, of pelagius ii to constantinople and was convinced that the eastern empire was hopelessly decadent.

he was very successful in strengthening the church in spain, baul, and north italy. he encouraged the spread of benedictine monasticism. he was most successful in the conversion of the english, sending augustine with forty monks from his own monastery.

his writing was extremely influential, ranging from topics such as his "liber regulae pastoralis," which described his vision of the pastoral life of a bishop, the pastor of souls, to the organization of the entire roman catholic order and worship, which in part continues even after vatican ii.

i cannot imagine a contemporary movie about gregory which would not introduce the necessary jungian, neo-gnostic darkside which we would assume for the pontiff. we just do not make movies with heroic early medaeval popes. we are so profoundly anti-nomian that the world "regulae"--rules--of pastoring is an immediate turn off.

yet gregory was only taking seriously what jesus had said. "no one can serve two masters," and he recognized thirteen centuries before dylan that "everybody has to serve someone."

we often, it seems, pretend that this is not true. few of us any more pray each day the "collect for peace" from gregory's sacramentory (no. 1345), describing god as the "author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life, whose service is perfect freedom." (the original latin is more vivid and terse: "whom to know is to live, whom to serve is to reign.:)

rather we prefer what we sometimes call, oxymoronically, "chaos theory." after all, it releaves us from any nagging feeling that we should pick up our bedroom. but, to continue with the words of gregory's collects, we are left not only at the merch of "our unruly wills," (no. 1120), but abandoned to the "fear of any adversaries."

so i wonder, as i lie fearlessly and snugly in my bed this cold lenten morning (lent may mean spring, but it's a mostly cold spring so far), whether i have any of gregory's many writings. i find i have only this one lenten hymn, no longer set to gregorian chant:

"O Kind Creator, bow thine ear
to mark the cry, to know the tear
before thy throne of mercy spent
in this thy holy fast of Lent.

Our hearts are open, Lord, to thee:
thou knowest our infirmity;
pour out on all who seek thy face
abundance of thy pardoning grace.

Our sins are many, this we know;
spare us, good Lord, thy mercy show;
and for the honor of thy name
our fainting souls to life reclaim.

Give us the self-control that springs
from discipline of outward things,
that fasting inward secretly
the soul may purely dwell with thee.

We pray thee, Holy Trinity,
one God, unchanging Unity,
that we from this our abstinence
may reap the fruits of penitence."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Words: attributed to Gregory the Great, sixth century;
trans. Thomas Alexander Lacey, 1906

9 march: the feast of st. gregory of nyssa

the first reading for the synaxis of st. gregory in the western rite:

wisdom 7:22-2822

for wisdom, which is the worker of all things, taught me: for in her is an understanding spirit holy, one only, manifold, subtil, lively, clear, undefiled, plain, not subject to hurt, loving the thing that is good quick, which cannot be letted, ready to do good, kind to man, steadfast, sure, free from care, having all power, overseeing all things, and going through all understanding, pure, and most subtil, spirits. for wisdom is more moving than any motion: she passeth and goeth through all things by reason of her pureness. for she is the breath of the power of god, and a pure influence flowing from the glory of the almighty: therefore can no defiled thing fall into her. for she is the brightness of the everlasting light, the unspotted mirror of the power of god, and the image of his goodness. and being but one, she can do all things: and remaining in herself, she maketh all things new: and in all ages entering into holy souls, she maketh them friends of god, and prophets. for god loveth none but him that dwelleth with wisdom.

9 march: song of two saints

awakened by moonlight, i boil water, dress, pulling my hood over my cap and my mantle over both, carrying my coffee through the crunch of last fall's needles to my vantage point on the edge of the void, beneath the tall pines. the not-quite-full moon on this not-quite-spring not-quite morning gives not quite enough light to see the not-quite-blooming forsythia to my right, but i imagine at least that i feel the yellow promises.

i sit here with the moon's brightness and the pines' darkness,trying to sing a songs of the saints of god. i want it to be a simple song, but the saints are thomas acquinas and gregory of nyssa, and i think it may be all day long before i can quite harmonize them, if at all.

thinking of them takes me back forty-four years to the fall i acknowledged myself a wise fool. that semester was plato's. yes. sign me up. i want to be a philosopher king. let me out of this cave. spring brought aristotle, whom i found to be a bit pedantic. the following year was to have been thomas acquinas, but the thomas-professor went off to yale, and i suppose found fame, while i went off to roosevelt and such second lights as ernst cassirer and teilhard de chardin and obscurantism. i never read st. thomas.

ah, but gregory of nyssa: his works, some of them anyway, i have read. sign me up. i want to see the world his way. cappadocia may be a land of caves, but gregory saw the light. his moses is no charlston heston, projected into the cave by phantoms, climbing a fake mountain with a fake beard as edgar robinson shows aaron how to make a molten calf. gregory's moses shines in the pure light of mount tabor.

somehow i was able to separate thomas whom i knew as the angelic poet of pange linguam and verbum supernum from the doctor of the summa. but i sat under the pine trees this morning after having read, well, not st. thomas on his feast yesterday, but chesterton's dumb ox biography of acqinas, and i was reminded both that, as plato had recognized, kings may pretend to be philosophers, but philosophers do not want to be kings, and that the methods of the enemy are subtle and pervasive even when simple: julius caesar has taught well; divide and conquer. i am easily carried along by the prejudices of my ignorant times even as i flatter myself that i work against them.

i find a friend who is opposed to private confession caught up in the lutheran heresy because her reason to reject that sacrament is that "roman catholics do it," but i never see past the log in my eye that keeps me from reading thomas because i have swallowed the more respectable heresy of hegelianism, never even tasting its bitterness amongst the sugars of modernism.

i was reminded of my dismissal of acquinas' thought as pedantic aristotelianism in a wonderful way this morning. pedantic is, after all, a sort of pun, combining the pedestrianism of walking with the pediatrics of childhood. the moon's brilliance was obscured by clouds as that lesser light approached the horizon. then, i could see more stars, stars which i wanted to place in constellations, but could not because of the pine trees. then, in the great darkness before the dawn, i began to hear the foot-fall, the pedantry, of a doe and her fawns browsing on the forest flood. i could even see ever so slightly the forms of the forsythia blossoms. the pines lost what chesterton might call, even if i do think wrongly, their byzantine flatness.

how easy it is not to see the pine trees for the stars.

2 march: the feast of st. chad

there is snow under the pine trees this morning, reminding me of the snowy morning by the pine tree at amelia white park in santa fe eighteen years ago when i took chad as my patron in my journey with christ. chad the barefoot walker who recognized that fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom.

my faithfulness in that journey has been far from consistent. i have again and again excused myself for my faltering inconsistancy by the ease with which i can find fault with the church. there must, i tell myself, be a better way. i want the church to be one, to be holy, to be catholic, to be apostolic. when i fail to see her so, i like john the forerunner ask, should i look somewhere else.

one year i took a leave from my duties in the parish to "explore native american spirituality." i was living in santa fe at the time, where there actually is some survival of the old indigenous ways. i also returned to arkansas to try to find what had been the "beliefs" of the peoples indigenous to my natal soil before they had been driven out by my ancesters. i didn't find much, and yet i found enough.

the local religions were just that, local. they were many. they were natural, not holy, and entirely unconcerned about including others. despite what rich white women in navajo skirts and pawn silver said about the wonders of praying for "all my relations," all those relations were one's own family tree. the hopi might dance for the good of the whole world, but there was no place for a european in the dance, or a syrian, as the syrian church had made european bishops, and the european bishops had made navajo bishops. "native spirituality" was many, natural, local, and ethnic. i returned to the church, and found myself much to my surprise being made missionary bishop to the ozarks. (i had only enquired about how to make the order of st. chad canonically independent of new mexico.)

so, for a while, i was faithful again, returning to arkansas, even if it were to jonesboro rather than to fayetteville, trying to lead a life remarkably different enough from the world that people would ask me, what gives, when i could tell them of the faith "once delivered to the apostles."

my next crisis, once again, was with that collection, assortment really, of buildings ranging from repulsively hideous to sublimely beautiful, with signs out front saying "church." i had no interest in starting another one, but i felt that i should find them, if not on the same page as i, at least in the same book. then came the 2000 "election," in which many christians professed their faith in george w. bush as their lord and saviour, and even worse, almost non called that action heresy. there would follow the events that have come to be known as 9/11, and the cathedral church of sts. peter and paul, both of which were martyred by the empire, the more aptly named national cathedral, came to the service of those who said "let us bomb our enemies back into the stone age," a phrase for which i have looked without success in my strong's concordance. they rolled out creaky old billy graham, the kindest and gentlest of those who present the gospel as a "get out of hell free card." the apostate empire was singing "onward, christian soldiers," and from building after building signed "church" came the great amen.

i cried. in my tears i thought, there must be something better. as i was packing to return to new mexico, through my tears i read an old friend's name on the return address of a letter that arrived on the last day i was in jonesboro, a friend from the old parish in santa fe who then lived in seattle. come, he said. you'll like it here: ocean; mountains. this was my introduction to the none-zone.

the none-zone, western oregon and washington, is the area where most people, if asked their religious preference, say none. i bought a kayak and started exploring. people would ask, what do you do? i would say, i'm looking for clues. people pretended to understand. bellingham, home of western washington university, became my home port. there i met some brilliant young students of arts and sciences. if anyone had a clue, i thought, they might. they were brilliant but clueless, sacrificing four years of their lives in residence at an institution which taught that there were no real clues. many of them would sacrifice more years paying off student loans. i quickly realized that "the faith delivered to the apostles" is as good as it gets, is indeed as good as it needs to be. the problem is that we resist receiving it.

once again i resisted "starting a church," although i danced around the idea. i had a congregation of sorts: students who came to my tent in the night like nichodemus, students i catechized and baptized and buried, who were intrigued by jesus and a strange old man they thought might look like jesus--jesus if he and mary magadalen had really been married and had become grand parents. but mostly, they did not join me on sunday mornings at the church where i worshipped. (a few did, but the church was not very welcoming to them, nor did they understand why i would waste my time there.)

the worst moment came one easter morning, soon after the death of tim, a 29-year-old graduate of western washington. his was the first death, the first, funeral, many of these young people had known. in my pew sat nine kids who had known tim. they had been moved by the faith expressed during tim's death and wake and funeral, and they wanted to see where i worshipped. i was horrified. the "service" was one of those laurence-welk-show type of things so common with protestants these days: lots of special music that excluded the congregation. no silence. no room for the holy. and the most anti-resurrection sermon i had ever heard. and i was stuck. afterwards, i couldn't say, no this isn't church, this isn't easter. there was a big sign in front of this big building with stained glass windows claiming church. the brass band had played special easter music.

the next sunday i started worshipping at st. paul's episcopal church. it was two miles further from my house, and up a long hill, but at the easter vigil there had been a real proclamation of the resurrection, and the gathered people of god had been encouraged to do their work, to worship. so for the next several years in bellingham, without meaning to, i became a casual missionary for the episcopal church. as one young man, raised mostly methodist, who had asked, but where do you worship, dale, a young man, now exploring priesthood in the episcopal church, says, "in my church we worship the way christians have for 2,000 years. i pray that there might be more churches like st. paul's.

but now i am back in the ozarks, back to the place i was sent 14 years ago, on a morning with snow under the pines once again. the pine underneath which i took my first vows of obedience, poverty, stability, and chastity, has been cut down. in its place is an ugly statue. that's it in the picture above. one that statue is plaque that i can only paraphrase: be careful what you do here. simple acts can have great consequences. i came back to the ozarks on what i thought to be a retreat, to spend some time in silence, listening to the wind words. ah, that can be a dangerous thing to do.

on this second day of march, the feast of st. chad, bishop of mercia. i find myself once more hoist by my own petar. if find the wind words saying, inconveniently at this time when once again there is no king in israel, albeit the new israel, and every man does as he pleases, to return to the faith that has been given to us by the apsotles, to call us to receive it. alas, this morning's matins reading for a patron saint who is a bishop is from the tenth chapter of the gospel according to matthew: go to the lost sheep of the house of israel. so, i pray this morning, under the tall pines among which i know dwell, for the grace to be cunning as serpents and yet as harmless as doves. amen.

my lenten koan

lent very clearly means spring this morning. at 6:00 i am able to read the psalms with my first cup of coffee, seated under one of the tall pines at the edge of the holler.

if animals indeed have animae, souls, then the souls of the world en-fleshed in the creeping and flying creatures are waking from the sleep of winter well before the grass, herb yielding seed, or fruit trees, which are just beginning to swell with buds while the squirrels and frogs and birds are rampant in their lauds. even a vulture is aloft, circling in the light above the shadow of this round world, light which remains only a promise here in the pines.

my lenten koan for this year seems simpler than some years past: it is from the eighth chapter of luke,at the conclusion of the parable of the sower:

"having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with abundance."

i am very seldom good ground, with an honest and pure heart. but those times when i get all puffed up and feel pure, good, and honest, i tend to lose all patience--proof i was merely pridefull.

yet am i hopeful. the holy one will not fail to hear my cry, "lord, i am thine, o save me."

only three weeks ago, these pines, this holler, was as quiet and frozen as narnia in the grasp of the white witch, each branch, each needle, each blade imprisoned in ice. no creepers crept, no winged creatures flew. we, my neighbors and i, huddled in the cold darkness.

but just a little while, and i sit in this warm bright morning as the song of the turtle is heard in the land.

"having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with abundance."

quadragesima: a reply to the serpent

great lent is observed somwhat differently in the eastern and western churches. there are, i think, some peculiar advantages to each method of preparation for pascha, for easter.

the east has no mardi gras, no great "party" to end "carnival," no headaches on ash wednesday. instead, orthodoxy gradually takes up the lenten fast, first with meat-fare sunday, the last flesh-eating day before great lent, then with cheese-fare sunday, when dairy products are last eaten before pascha.

on cheese-fare sunday is commemorated the expulsion of adam of the first creation from the paradise of bliss. first vespers remembers our creation from "dust from the earth," and recognizes that satan "deceived me through eating."

we pray, "lord, when i disobeyed thy command at the counsel of the adversary, i wretched one, was stripped of my god-woven robe." these are words looking forward of course to the new robe of the second creation, the chrysom that we are given in our baptism into that new creation, and to the gift of the holy spirit, the true counselor, that we will celebrate at the end of the great fifty days of the pascha.

in the liturgy we are told in the epistle, from romans, "let not him that eateth despite him that eateth not; and let him which eateth not judge him that eateth . . ." in the orthodox church, there is not so much of "what will i give up for lent." the fast is proscribed, so there is less opportunity for pride in giving up some favourite thing. easter therefore is less often reduced to getting chocolate back.

the gospel includes the same passage as the catholic west reads on ash wednesday:

". . . when ye fast, be not,as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. . . . but though, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face."

in the second vespers comes this prayer, which is repeated every sunday evening during lent:

"let us all hasten to the subjugation of the flesh by abstinence, as we approach the divine battle-field of blameless fasting. let us pray the lord, our saviour, in tears and prayers, turning away completely from sin, and crying, we have sinned against thee, o christ the king. save us, therefore, as of old thou didst save the people of ninevah; and make us partakers of thy heavenly kingdom, o compassionate one."

and because we know our own weaknesses, we ask also the interecessions of all the saints, especially of the most blessed theotokos.

monday morning the forty days begin.

in the west, which counts the forty days somewhat differently, it is on wednesday, ash wednesday, that the prophet jonah is read at matins, telling of the fasting and the repentance of ninevah. the collect asks for that second creation which comes with the second adam:

"almighty and everlasting god, who hatest nothing that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all those who are penitent; create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of thee, the god of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through jesus christ our lord. amen.

then, after hearing matthew in the liturgy, those of us who have been beguiled by the words of the serpent, "ye shall not surely die," hear instead these words:

"remember, o man, that thou art dust, and unto dust shall thou return."