In Anticipation of Tomorrow

Anticipating the secular side of St Patrick's Day, I present the lyrics from "Parting Glass," the song that plays as the credits roll in "Waking Ned Devine" (one of my favorite Irish movies).

All the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm I've ever done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now, I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

Fill to me the parting glass
And drink a'health whate'er befalls.
Then gently rise and softly call,
Goodnight and joy be to you all.

Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my goin' away.
And all the sweehearts that e'er I had,
They'd wish me one more day I'd stay.
Since it fell into my lot,
That I should rise and you should not.
I gently rise and softly call,
Goodnight and joy be to you all.

But since it fell into my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

So fill to me the parting glass
And drink a health whate'er befalls
Then gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

Come, Let Us Rejoice

Just as, when a person with a burning thirst is very dry and has been parched for a long time, to happen upon a fountain of cold water is a very happy and most welcome occurence, so too, since we are overwhelmed by sadness and weighed down by the burden of numerous tribulations, the refrain of the prophet's song today rouses us to joy. Come, it says, let us rejoice in the Lord. (Ps 94[95].1a) Come where? Or from where? From yourself, man, into yourself, where not a change of location, but a conversion of your attitudes casts out adversity, puts sadness to flight, dispels dispair, drives away distress, and within the residence of a sincere heart prepares an eternal dwelling of divine gladness.

Then, what has become of: Blessed are those who mourn (Mt 5.4) and Woe to you who laugh? (Lk 6.25) Clearly, blessed are those who mourn in the world, and woe to those who laugh in the world, but blessed are those who rejoice in the Lord, and who gain no happiness from robbery, from deceit, or from the tears of their neighbors. Come, let us rejoice in the Lord. The one who by word, action or deed rejoices not in himself but in his Creator rejoices in the Lord. Come, let us rejoice in the Lord. The one for whom God is always his only and complete happiness rejoices in the Lord. (St Peter Chrysologus, "Sermon 46: On the Ninety-fourth Psalm" in The Fathers of the Church 109.178)

Note: The picture is of the ceiling of the baptistery at the Cathedral in Ravenna where St Peter Chrysologus served as bishop.

St Gregory the Great

Today is the feast of one of the greatest theologians of the European Church.

St Gregory the Great was a monk, a pope, a liturgioligist, a politician. But above all, he was a pastor. It's very evident in his sermons. But is most evident in his "Pastoral Rule." For nearly 1000 years, this was the standard in pastoral theology and, in fact, was ordered by Charlemagne to be given to every bishop at his ordination. Yet now, it is a tome that is simply ignored by too many seminaries, pastoral theologians and pastors.

Here is brief biography of this saint. And here you will find prayers the church prays commemorating this great pastor.

Understanding "Eli, Eli"

The Lord Jesus hangs on the cross, forsaken by His disciples, mocked by His tormenters, stripped of all dignity, treated like a petty thief, knowing His mother has to watch, tempted to believe that He is no longer the beloved Son. You remember the scene. It was noon, but it was the dark night of the soul. Not just His soul, but the soul of man; the soul of all creation. And then, slicing through the air is what we imagine to be a plaintive wail, “Eli, eli, lama sabachthani? My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”

Now He finally knows what that woman felt. [Mt 15.21-28] Now He finally gets it. At least that’s what we’re tempted to think and believe—especially when we fall into that dark place, especially when our mind and heart have become so corrupted that we think, or even say, the unthinkable about our Savior.

Why does Our Lord cry out? Has He fallen into the sin of despair? Does He honestly believe that the Father has forsaken Him; that the devil is on the brink of winning; that there is no hope? Do you honestly believe that Our Lord Jesus has succumbed to the greatest temptation of all—the temptation of believing that the heavenly Father is abusive, unloving, uncaring, unwilling? Perish the thought! Even the pleading, begging woman refuses to believe that!

So why does Our Jesus pray the prayer He does? The same reason He answers the woman the way He does. The same reason He seems so slow in coming to our aid. The same reason He coaxes us to pray, “How long, O Lord; will you forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I have sorrow in my heart daily?”

That’s the woman’s prayer. That’s the prayer of poor Lazarus as he sits at the gate of the rich man. That’s the prayer of every martyr when death is only inches away. That’s the true believer’s prayer. For that prayer is the prayer that requires us to fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame.

(An excerpt from today's sermon on Mt 15.21-28)

Fenton was a Welshman?

I have this on-going friendly dispute with my father. I really want to believe that we Fentons are Welsh, and he keeps insisting that the Fentons are Irish. (You see, it's really about the name; I'm mostly Pomeranian & Austrian, with a fair portion of Blackfoot Indian--but I digress.)

Well, I guess the dispute is over. We now have clear evidence that John William Fenton is Irish. I only ask that you not tell Toshio Akiyama that I'm alive and well in Detroit. I guess he's looking for me. As for this Jessie Fenton... (will that be the name of our eighth?)

Forty Holy Martyrs

Yesterday's commemoration of the Forty Holy Martyrs should not go unremarked upon, especially by one serving in Detroit. For Detroit has a significant population of Aremenians, and these martyrs are some of the few (if not the only) from that ancient Christian land commemorated by Western Christians. (Above left is a photo of St John's Armenian Apostolic Church, an architectural jewel and one of the most significant Oriental Orthodox parishes in the US.)

The inspiring story of the martyrs is told here and here. Let me simply highlight this part of the story:

After being often remanded to an horrid prison-house, bound in fetters, and their mouths bruised with stones, they were ordered out in the depth of winter, stripped naked, and put upon a frozen pool, to die of cold during the night. The prayer of them all was the same: "O Lord, forty of us have begun to run in the race, grant that all forty may receive the crown, let not one be wanting at the last. Behold, is it not an honourable number in thy sight, who didst bless the fast of forty days, and at the end thy Divine Law came forth to the earth? When also Elias sought thee, thou, O God, didst reveal thyself unto him when he had fasted for forty days." Even so was their petition.

When the keepers were all asleep and the watchman only was awake, he heard them praying and saw a light shining round about them, and Angels coming down from heaven, as the messengers of the King, bearing nine-and-thirty crowns, and distributing them to the soldiers. Then he said within himself: "Are not forty here? Where is the crown of the fortieth?" And as he looked he saw one of them whose courage could not bear the cold, come and leap into a warm bath that stood by; and the Saints were grievously afflicted. Nevertheless God suffered not that their prayer should return unto them void; for the watchman wondered, and called the keepers, and stripped himself of his clothes; and, when with a loud voice he had confessed himself a Christian, he joined the Martyrs.

Submitting to the Church's Fast

Too many people have been taught to "give up something for Lent." As if the giving up of whatever we choose to give up in some way accomplishes the Lenten Fast. But the Lent Fast is not a “self-chosen” fast. For then we would simply give up silly things (like TV or foods we hate). Or we would turn fasting into a springtime diet (by giving up chocolate or dessert). Or we would make our fast “our own thing.”

The Scriptures teach us, however, that fasting is not to be done individually, but corporately. So Our Lord does not say, “When ye fast…” (“ye” is the older singular form) but rather, “When you fast…” (“you” is the older plural form). Likewise, the Ninevites fasted as a city. And, in the beginning, Adam and Eve together were to fast from the forbidden fruit.

Our fast, then, is done together. It is not mine or yours. It is the Church’s fast in which we participate. This fast requires submission and trust—submitting and trusting the Lord in His holy Church. Because it is the Church’s fast and not our self-chosen fast, from the beginning the Church of both the Old and New Testament has given instruction on how to fast.

The Church’s fast may include refraining from certain foods, such as meat. However, the true fast is to go without food. Traditionally, this has meant eating only one meal each day (two snacks are also permitted) throughout Lent. For together we prepare for Easter; and so together we discipline our bodies by fasting so that we might support each other in the time of temptation, affliction or death.

Yet fasting from food is only a start. For what good is it if we starve our bodies, but our souls persist in sin? So the true fast is not just the giving up of foods, but even more so the giving up sins. So we fast by exercising self-control, by averting our eyes from images that corrupt the soul, by retraining our mouths from gossip and mean-speaking, and by concentrating our minds not on earthly pursuits but on attaining the kingdom of heaven.

In these ways, we sacrifice not just our bellies but all that we have and all that we are. And we sacrifice our time—by attending more and more to prayer during our fasting days. For fasting should always be coupled with prayer. For what good is it to refrain from certain pleasures if we do not seek the will of Our Father in heaven? So whenever we fast, we should also pray.

(NOTE: The above is an excerpt from a pamphlet published on Invocabit 2006 for Zion Church.)

Does God Really Get Angry?

The last post was intended to be a brief introduction to a beautiful quotation. But, alas, I got carried away. Here's the quotation, which was part of the homily at today's Ember Friday Mass.

[The Psalmist says]: "Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger, nor reprove me in your rage." (Ps 6.1) And is God swollen with anger, and seething with rage? Far from it, brothers! God is not subjected to passion, nor is he enkindled by anger, nor is he agitated by rage. ...

So the prophet, mindful of human fraility, and aware of his carnal nature, and because he put no trust in hs own merits, fled hastily to be helped by mercy, so that God's judgment in this regard might consist of kindness rather than severity.

"Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger." (Ps 6.1) That is to say: rebuke me, but not in anger; reprove me, but not in rage. Rebuke me as a Father, not as a Judge; reprove me not as Lord, but as a Parent. Rebuke me, not to destroy me, but to reprove me. Reprove me, not to do me in, but to correct me. And why should you do this? "Because I am sick." (Ps 6.2) "Have mercy on me, Lord, because I am sick."

...[T]hat the Lord seethes in anger against him [the sick man], that he flares up in rage is not, not at all the characteristic of a benevolent Creator, but of a very severe Prosecutor. "Heave mercy on me, Lord, since I am sick."

...

"And you, O Lord, how long?" Be converted, O Lord!" (Ps 6.3-4) [Is this] the way the human being speaks to God, the guilty to the Judge, the condemned to the Prosecutor? "Be converted, O Lord!" The human being sins, and God is the one to be converted? Yes, indeed, my brothers, because according to the prophet, "He himself bears our sins, and suffers for us." (Is 53.4) And blessed John says, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." (Jn 1.29) He accepted sin, in order to take away sin, not to possess it. "Be converted, O Lord!" From what? From God into man, from the Lord into a slave, from a Judge into a Father, so that the conversion may show that you are kind, you whose power makes you threatening and frightening.

"Be convered, O Lord, and free my soul" from the depths of hell; "save me on account of your mercy." (Ps 6.5) Not on account of my merit, since distress impairs me, groaning consumes me, tears overwhelm me, anger disturbs me, and the enemy assaults me. But to clarify this, let the very prayer of the prophet be chanted: "Save me on account of your mercy." (St Peter Chrysologus, Sermon 45 [On the Sixth Psalm], The Father of the Church, vol 109.173-176)

Who's Reconciled to Whom?

It seems that much of Western soteriology, since at least the time of Anselm, hinges on the notion that our sin so angers God that, in His rage, He lashes out against us in punishment. Undoubtedly, it is this notion that pushed Luther to stress the Gospel over against the Law.

However, the notion that God gets angry is theologically difficult for several reasons. First, it suggests that God has a conflict within Himself--anger vs. love. Second, it suggests that, like us, God cannot control His temper. Third, it suggests that God is only primarily love--not essentially love. Finally, it sets up a dualism within God--a dualism that becomes manifest in the Holy Trinity when (according to this notion) the Father takes out His anger in unrelenting fury, wrath and rage on His beloved Son.

To be sure, we speak as if God is angry. Just as we speak as if He has abandoned us, forgotten us, or turned a deaf ear to us. But when we speak this way, we must acknowledge that we are speaking anthropomorphically; in other words, we're thinking that God acts as we do, or we're speaking in terms of how it seems or looks or feels to us. If our biological father gets angry and lashes out at us when we do something wrong, (so we think) then so must our heavenly Father.

This notion, however, not only drags God down to our level, ascribing to Him our uglier characteristics. Worse yet, it creates in our minds and hearts a notion that the Father's mercy is fickle or fleeting--or, at least, dependent upon some act that pleases Him or appeases His wrath. But doesn't this talk about appeasing God's wrath ultimately make us higher than God? For then God is manipulated by our pleasing or appeasing acts. Or we can, in some way, control God's "moods."

A common answer is to say that we cannot appease God because we are wicked and (as we think the Psalmist is saying about us), "God is angry with the wicked every day." (Ps 7.11) Hence, only the Son of God appeases His angry Father. Put colloquially, "God, in His fierce anger, must destroy you; but He is conflicted, and so instead destroys His Son who miraculously survives and rises to live another day and, having done so, pleases His Father and calms His rage so that it's now safe to stand before Him."

But now we're back to a Trinitarian dualism; and to dragging God down to our level of economics by which owners are appeased by successfully negotiated mediation. But that's not the kind of Mediator Our Lord Jesus is. He doesn't mediate by standing between a furious father and his pathetic creation; or by taking the blows of an angry (abusive?) God that were occasioned by the ruination and corruption of His creation by totally depraved men. This suggests that the problem really is with God; and that the Father needs to be reconciled to us. (Read AC III carefully.)

The truth is that the problem lies within us--the corruption of flesh which is manifest in sin and results in death. But the death it results in is not so much the grave (although that is a vivid picture of this death); rather, it is the death of our relationship (or communion) with our heavenly Father. To restore this communion with the Father, the Son doesn't reconcile the Father to us, but us to the Father. And His reconciliation is not solely or even chiefly by the event of His death and resurrection, but by His Passion coupled with the sending of the Holy Spirit. (For what good is Our Lord's death and resurrection if He doesn't breathe out His Spirit on the Church; that is, if the benefits are not delivered into us and planted home within us?)

This picture of God not only releases us from the problems described above when we believe that God is consumed with anger over against His creation. It is also biblical. For this is the biblical witness: the Father is merciful and compassionate; and from that mercy gives His Son into the world not to pay for what we've done or to appease God's wrath, but to reconcile and restore us true life in the Father; and this reconciliation is begun for us and achieved by the Son releasing His Spirit upon all mankind in His Church so that, in Him, we might be united to the Son who then gives us full access to the Father.

Now can such a picture be reconciled with the notion that the Son of God came into the world to appease the Father's wrath and reconcile the Father to us? And can anyone who holds to this biblical understanding really maintain that "God hates you because God hates sin and you are sin"? Those who do have, most regrettably, slidden into heresy.

Book Tag

This tag comes my way thanks to Ben Johnson who gives these ground rules: What ten books would you want with you if you were shipwrecked on a desert island?

Here's my 10.

1. Bible (Douay-Rheims; better, in many ways, than the KJV with all the books in their LXX places)
2. Anglican Breviary (actually, Monastic Diurnal preferred, but the AB includes Matins)
3. English Missal (also known as Knott Missal; most complete for my use)
4. Liber Usualis (offices are not said, but sung)
5. The Lutheran Hymnal (no joy without singing the sturdy hymns of my youth)
6. Commentary on the Gospel of St Luke by St Cyril (lacking in the breviary)
7. NPNF II.IV (select works & letters of St Athanasius; who can tire of him?)
8. Philokalia vol 2 (St Maximos takes quite a while)
9. Brothers Karamazov (maybe I'll finally finish it)
10. The Destinty of Man by Nicolas Berdyaev (maybe I'll finally start it)

Honorable Mention

NPNF II.VII (not so much for St Cyril of Jerusalem, as for St Gregory Nazianzen)
English Ritual (not sure what I'd do with it since I'm deserted, but it completes the set)


As you can see, I'll spend my days praying; and then stretching the mind. I'll have the time finally to do it. And whatever other reading material I'll need, I'll find on my PDA which, of course, will be on my person (so I can retrieve what I want--at least, as long as the battery holds out).

Now if I can just make sure I shipwreck where pirates have stowed an unlimited supply of Cuban cigars and 16 yr old Lagavulin...


Passing on the favor to:
Chris Jones
Holy Hauntings
Fr. Marco (you see, I can be trans-continental)
and Pr Petersen (returning the favor)