sampson on saddam…

we seem to be living in a culture that’s obsessed with revenge. it’s often times marketed in our movies, tv shows, and books as one of the greatest virtues. when i heard about saddam’s death, it felt that way again. sampson over at guerilla orthodoxy has a great post on why loving our enemeies is more powerful and the better virtue than revenge over them…

What might have happened if we had loved Saddam? What if, instead of breaking his neck with a rope, we had kept him alive in a place where he could do no further harm to others or himself, treated him humanely, allowed him to read, and offered him access to moderate Muslim clergy? Might he eventually have recognized the horror of his actions? Might he one day have repented? Yes, I know this is a one in a million chance, but such things do happen. A change in Saddam would have a chance of bringing about change in Iraq; then he might indeed have become a symbol of a new chapter in the country’s history. Now, he is merely a symbol of the fact that the Shiites are executing Sunnis, instead of Sunnis executing Shiites.

Every person who commits acts of great evil contains within himself or herself the key to understanding that evil, and so to redeeming, transforming, and healing it. When we kill that person, the key is lost forever.

Go and read the whole article here…

A Christmas Sermon

 St Gregory of Nazianzus

Christ is born, glorify Him. Christ from heaven, go out to meet Him. Christ on earth, be exalted. Sing to the Lord all the whole earth; and that I may join both in one word, let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad, for Him who is of heaven and then of earth. Christ in the flesh, rejoice with trembling and with joy; with trembling because of your sins, with joy because of your hope.

Again, the darkness is past; again Light is made; again Egypt is punished with darkness; again Israel is enlightened by a pillar. The people who sat in the darkness of ignorance, let them see the great Light full of knowledge. Old things have passed away, behold all things have become new. The letter gives way, the Spirit comes to the front. The shadows flee away, the truth comes in on them. Melchizedek is concluded. He who was without Mother becomes without Father (without mother of His former state, without father of His second). The laws of nature are upset; the world above must be filled. Christ commands it, let us not set ourselves against Him. O clap your hands together all you people, because unto us a Child is born, and a Son given unto us, whose government is upon His shoulder (for with the cross it is raised up), and His name is called The Angel of the Great Counsel of the Father. Let John cry, prepare the way of the Lord; I too will cry the power of this Day. He who is not carnal is Incarnate; the Son of God becomes the Son of Man, Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and forever. Let the Jews be offended, let the Greeks deride; let heretics talk until their tongues ache. Then shall they believe, when they see Him ascending into heaven; and if not then, yet when they see Him coming out of heaven and sitting as Judge.

This is our present Festival; it is this which we are celebrating today, the Coming of God to Man, that we might go forth, or rather (for this is the more proper expression) that we might go back to God – that putting off of the old man, we might put on the new; and that as we died in Adam, so we might live in Christ, being born with Christ and crucified with Him and buried with Him and rising with Him. For I must undergo the beautiful conversion, and as the painful succeeded the more blissful, so must the more blissful come out of the painful. For where sin abounded grace did much more abound; and if a taste condemned us, how much more does the passion of Christ justify us? Therefore let us keep the Feast, not after the manner of a heathen festival, but after a godly sort; not after the way of the world, but in a fashion above the world; not as our own, but as belonging to Him who is ours, or rather as our master’s; not as of weakness, but as of healing; not as of creation, but of re-creation.

now is the day of joy…

 

 St Isaac the Syrian

This Christmas night bestowed peace on the whole world;
So let no one threaten;

This is the night of the Most Gentle One -
Let no one be cruel;

This is the night of the Humble One -
Let no one be proud.

Now is the day of joy -
Let us not revenge;

Now is the day of Good Will -
Let us not be mean.

In this Day of Peace -
Let us not be conquered by anger.

Today the Bountiful impoverished Himself for our sake;
So, rich one, invite the poor to your table.

Today we receive a Gift for which we did not ask;
So let us give alms to those who implore and beg us.

This present Day cast open the heavenly doors to our prayers;
Let us open our door to those who ask our forgiveness.

Today the DIVINE BEING took upon Himself the seal of our humanity,
In order for humanity to be decorated by the Seal of DIVINITY.

the one thing lacking at Christmas

Written by John Kapsalis

HT: HTOC

The statistics are numbing. The United Nations Millennium Project estimates that every day 800 million people go hungry, with almost half of them young children. Every 3.6 seconds another human being dies of starvation. Every 30 seconds a child dies in Africa of malaria. Some 1 billion people live on less than one dollar a day, and more than twice that do not have access to basic water sanitation. Over a hundred million children never attend any school and 6,000 people die everyday from HIV/AIDS. The list can go on and on to the point where the numbers become almost surreal and meaningless. Jesus wasn’t kidding when He said we would always have the poor with us.

But Jesus Christ also began his ministry saying “the spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, he has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:18 NASB). So if we’re supposed to imitate Christ, what does God expect from us? What exactly are we supposed to do with all these poor?

When the magi came to see the newborn Jesus, they brought rich gifts for the One they knew was the Messiah. Yet Jesus said, “the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head” (Luke 9:58 NASB). Very quickly we have forgotten and neglected the essential truth of Christ’s initial message and the reason for His birth. Paul the apostle writes, “you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9 NASB).

Our mission to the poor of this world cannot be a department or a committee of our Church. The poor must define who we are as Christians otherwise we will continue to be ignored or at best tolerated. Christ’s mercy and compassion to the poor was so inclusive that it was threatening. We can’t live life the way Christ did and we can’t believe the way He expects us to if our TV’s, SUV’s, PDA’s and 401K’s are blinding us from seeing Christ in the poor.

Christ waits today under the refuse that covers the poor for our best gifts the way He waited for the magi to bring their finest gifts when He was a homeless child so long ago. Unless the Church goes “out at once into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in here the poor and crippled and blind and lame” (Luke 14:21 NASB), the world will see through our greed and hypocrisy and our pews will continue to ring hollow.

When our possessions begin to own us and blind us to the misery that surrounds us, then we are in danger of losing it all because our hording and spending on more and more things for ourselves blocks us from genuinely responding to the gospel that Jesus preached. The strength of our compassion for the poor either reveals or conceals God’s kingdom come both now and in the future. Quoting the Roman Emperor Julian, Stephen Neill writes in his book A History of Christian Missions, the epic impact that the early Christians had on the world was “through the loving service rendered to strangers … [and that they] care not only for their own poor but for ours as well; while those who belong to us look in vain for help that we should render them.”

Time and space it seems have eroded the unimaginable sacrifice of Christ accepting to be born in a barn full of animals as a child so that we might live. God wants that sacrifice to be part of everyone He has created. It is a love beyond human credibility. It is a love that Christ freely gives us but also asks of us, that we too learn to love the way He does.

In spite of our selfishness, God not only endures us, He loves us. But it is this merciful love that God shines and rains on everyone, even the undeserving, that must compel us to act the same way. Loving the poor is not just about superficial generosity, but about a generosity saturated in joy.

Giving generously means that it impacts our lifestyle. It has to hurt a little. It means being content with the abundance we have, denying our wants and sometimes even our needs and sharing the rest with the needy.

Leo the Great wrote that “it is not only spiritual wealth and heavenly graces that are received from God’s hands; earthly and material riches too flow from His bounty, and therefore it is with justice that He will ask an account of them, since He himself has not so much given them to be possessed as put them in trust to be administered. Justly and wisely, then, must we use the gifts of God, lest the means to good works should become a cause of sin.” God has blessed us for this purpose, so that we can give and give more generously:

“God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you’re ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done. As one psalmist put it, ‘He throws caution to the winds, giving to the needy in reckless abandon …’ This most generous God … is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God” (2 Corinthians 9:8-11 MSG).

God’s special attention to the poor is not because of their piety but precisely because they are poor, helpless, defenseless and deserving of mercy. This is why John of Kronstadt wrote “Your labours are generously rewarded; be generous to others. They are not rewarded in accordance to their merit; do not give to others in accordance with their merit, but for their need’s sake.” It is God’s special attention to those that are in need of mercy that must make the poor the special attention of our Christian life. We have no choice in the matter. Our very judgment and salvation hang on our outreach and mercy to those in need:

“‘When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn’t help you?’ He will answer them, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me-you failed to do it to me’” (Matthew 25:44-45 MSG).

Giving generously is not so much about how much you give, but how you give it. Paul the Apostle writes, “You must each decide in your heart how much to give. And don’t give reluctantly or in response to pressure. ‘For God loves a person who gives cheerfully.’ And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others” (2 Corinthians 9:7-8 NLT). Archimandrite Vasileos of Stavronikita wrote in his wonderful book, Hymn of Entry that the constant giving away of our wealth is what gives us life: “This ceaseless sale is an offering for us to give to the ‘poor.’ This is how treasure is laid up in heaven; and that treasure is something we must not and cannot sell or give to anyone, because it belongs in its entirety to everyone.” Only God can grow the merciful, embracing heart you need to be compassionate and merciful as He is.

Poverty is not only a social and economic problem; rather it has its roots in our spiritual paralysis first as Christians and then as a people. It is our spiritual renewal that will change the life of the poor, one malnourished and diseased face at a time. We are not going to serve the poor beyond our Christmas donation unless we change our lifestyle and begin to live a sacrificial life. A life where it is no longer the accumulation of more things that matters most but living a life that matters to the world, that touches lives, and that holds the bruised hand of God in the flesh and bones of the poor. These are the things that are worthy of lifetime.

John Kapsalis has an M.T.S from Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology.

a new and wondrous mystery

I behold a new and wondrous mystery. My ears resound to the Shepherds’ song, piping no soft melody, but chanting full forth a heavenly hymn. The Angels sing. The Archangels blend their voice in harmony. The Cherubim hymn their joyful praise. The Seraphim exalt His glory. All join to praise this holy feast, beholding the Godhead here on earth, and man in heaven. He Who is above, now for our redemption dwells here below; and he that was lowly is by divine mercy raised.

Bethlehem this day resembles heaven; hearing from the stars the singing of angelic voices; and in place of the sun, enfolds within itself on every side, the Sun of Justice. And ask now how; for where God wills, the order of nature yields. For He willed, He had the power, He descended, He redeemed; all things move in obedience to God.

“But what shall I say? What shall I utter? *Behold an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Mary is present, who is both Virgin and Mother, Joseph is present, who is called father. He is called husband, she is called wife. The names indeed are lawful, but there is no other bond. We speak here of words, not of things. He was espoused to her, but the Most High overshadowed her. Hence, Joseph, doubting, knew not what to call the Infant. He would not dare to say that It was conceived in adultery; he could not speak harshly against the Virgin; he shrank from calling the Child his own. He knew well that here was something unknown to him; how or whence was this Child born? And being anxious because of this, there came to him a message, by the voice of an angel, which said: *Fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is conceived in her, is of the Holy Spirit.”

the innkeeper

these days i have mixed feelings about john piper. on the one hand, i’m Orthodox and i don’t by into the reformed notions of the plight of man and salvation that piper has. but i still gotta love the unflinching passion the man has for God. if it’s for this alone i’m thankful piper is around and a voice that teaches on how dying is the only way to truly live.

the following has always been a favorite poem of mine from him. he gives a lot of liscence in the characters, but i think it’s a great twist in a familiar story:

Jake’s wife would have been fifty-eight
The day that Jesus passed the gate
Of Bethlehem, and slowly walked
Toward Jacob’s Inn. The people talked
With friends, and children played along
The paths, and Jesus hummed a song,
And smiled at every child he saw.

He paused with one small lass to draw
A camel in the dirt, then said,
“What’s this?” The girl bent down her head
To study what the Lord had made,
Then smiled, “A camel, sir!” and laid
Her finger on the bulging back,
“It’s got a hump.” “Indeed it does,
And who do you believe it was
Who made this camel with his hump?”
Without a thought that this would stump
The rabbi guild and be reviled,
She said, “God did.” And Jesus smiled,
“Good eyes, my child. And would that all
Jerusalem within that wall
Of yonder stone could see the signs
Of peace!” He left the lass with lines
Of simple wonder in her face,
And slowly went to find the place
Where he was born.

Folks said the inn
Had never been a place for sin,
For Jacob was a holy man.
And he and Rachel had a plan
To marry, have a child or two,
And serve the folk who travelled through,
Especially the poor who brought
Their meal and turtle-doves, and sought
A place to stay near Zion’s gate.
They’d rise up early, stay up late,
To help the pilgrims go and come,
And when the place was full, to some
Especially the poorest, they would say,
“We’re sorry there’s no room, but stay
Now if you like out back. There’s lots
Of hay and we have extra cots
That you can use. There’ll be no charge.
The stable isn’t very large
But Noah keeps it safe.” He was
A wedding gift to Jake because
The shepherds knew he loved the dog.
“There’s nothing in the decalogue,”
He used to joke, “that says a man
Can’t love a dog!”

The children ran
Ahead of Jesus as he strode
Toward Jacob’s Inn. The stony road
That led up to the inn was deep
With centuries of wear, and steep
At one point just before the door.
The Lord knocked once then twice before
He heard an old man’s voice, “‘Round back!”
It called. So Jesus took the track
That led around the inn. The old
Man leaned back in his chair and told
The dog to never mind. “Ain’t had
No one to tend the door, my lad,
For thirty years. I’m sorry for
The inconvenience to your sore
Feet. The road to Jerusalem
Is hard ain’t it? Don’t mind old Shem.
He’s harmless like his dad. Won’t bite
A Roman soldier in the night.
Sit down.” And Jacob waved the stump
Of his right arm. “We’re in a slump
Right now. Got lots of time to think
And talk. Come, sit and have a drink.
From Jacob’s well!” he laughed. “You own
The inn?” The Lord inquired. “On loan,
You’d better say. God owns the inn.”
At that the Lord knew they were kin,
And ventured on: “Do you recall
The tax when Caesar said to all
The world that each must be enrolled?”
Old Jacob winced, “Are north winds cold?
Are deserts dry? Do fishes swim
And ravens fly? I do. A grim
And awful year it was for me.
Why do you ask?” “I have a debt
To pay, and I must see how much.
Why do you say that it was such
A grim and awful year?” He raised
The stump of his right arm, “So dazed,
Young man, I didn’t know I’d lost
My arm. Do you know what it cost
For me to house the Son of God?”
The old man took his cedar rod
And swept it ‘round the place: “Empty.
For thirty years alone, you see?
Old Jacob, poor old Jacob runs
It with one arm, a dog and no sons.
But I had sons . . . once. Joseph was
My firstborn. He was small because
His mother was so sick. When he
Turned three the Lord was good to me
And Rachel, and our baby Ben
Was born, the very fortnight when
The blessed family arrived.
And Rachel’s gracious heart contrived
A way for them to stay—there in
That very stall. The man was thin
And tired. You look a lot like him.”
But Jesus said, “Why was it grim?”

“We got a reputation here
That night. Nothing at all to fear
In that we thought. It was of God.
But in one year the slaughter squad
From Herod came. And where do you
Suppose they started? Not a clue!
We didn’t have a clue what they
Had come to do. No time to pray,
No time to run, no time to get
Poor Joseph off the street and let
Him say good-bye to Ben or me
Or Rachel. Only time to see
A lifted spear smash through his spine
And chest. He stumbled to the sign
That welcomed strangers to the place,
And looked with panic at my face,
As if to ask what he had done.
Young man, you ever lost a son?”

The tears streamed down the Savior’s cheek,
He shook his head, but couldn’t speak.

“Before I found the breath to scream
I heard the words, a horrid dream:
‘Kill every child who’s two or less.
Spare not for aught, nor make excess.
Let this one be the oldest here
And if you count your own life dear,
Let none escape.’ I had no sword
No weapon in my house, but Lord,
I had my hands, and I would save
The son of my right hand . . . So brave,
O Rachel was so brave! Her hands
Were like a thousand iron bands
Around the boy. She wouldn’t let
Him go and so her own back met
With every thrust and blow. I lost
My arm, my wife, my sons—the cost
For housing the Messiah here.
Why would he simply disappear
And never come to help?”

They sat
In silence. Jacob wondered at
The stranger’s tears.

“I am the boy
That Herod wanted to destroy.
You gave my parents room to give
Me life, and then God let me live,
And took your wife. Ask me not why
The one should live, another die.
God’s ways are high, and you will know
In time. But I have come to show
You what the Lord prepared the night
You made a place for heaven’s light.
In two weeks they will crucify
My flesh. But mark this, Jacob, I
Will rise in three days from the dead,
And place my foot upon the head
Of him who has the power of death,
And I will raise with life and breath
Your wife and Ben and Joseph too
And give them, Jacob, back to you
With everything the world can store,
And you will reign for evermore.”

feast day of st. nicholas

today is the feast day of st nicholas of myra, so today i shall direct you to a previous post i posted last year about one of the Church’s greatest saints.

St Nicholas 

origens of advent

ht: HTOC

Written by Fr. Patrick Henry Reardon

In the Roman Catholic Church and other Christian churches of the West, the several weeks prior to Christmas are known as Advent, a name from a Latin word meaning “coming.” It happens that the beginning of Advent always falls on the Sunday closest to November 30, the ancient feast day (in both East and West) of the Apostle Andrew. Among Christians in the West, this preparatory season, which tends to be slightly less rigorous than Lent and often involves no special fasting at all, always begins on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. Thus, from year to year it will vary in length between 3 and 4 weeks, but always with four Sundays.

The observance of the season of Advent is fairly late. One finds no sermons for Advent, for instance, among the liturgical homilies of St. Leo the Great in the mid-fifth century. About that time, however, the season was already was already emerging in Spain and Gaul. A thousand years later, the time of the Reformation, Advent was preserved among the liturgical customs of the Anglicans and Lutherans; in more recent years, other Protestant groups have informally begun to restore it, pretty much as it had originally started–one congregation at a time.

In the Eastern Orthodox Church, the corresponding penitential season of preparation for Christmas always begins on November 15, the day after the Feast of the Apostle Philip. For this reason it is popularly known as St. Philip’s Fast. A simple count of the days between November 15 and December 25 shows that this special period lasts exactly 40 days, the same as Lent.

More recently Christians of the Orthodox Church have begun to call this season by its Latin name, “Advent.” One now finds the term standard in publications of the Antiochian Archdiocese, for instance. The adoption of the word “Advent” by Eastern Orthodox Christians is inspired by the same reason that prompted the adoption of other Latin theological terms, such “Sacraments,” “Incarnation,” and “Trinity.” Very simply, these are the recognizable theological terms that have passed into Western languages. They also happen to be theologically accurate! If the Christian West can adopt Greek terms like “Christology,” it seems only fair for the Christian East to adopt Latin terms like “Incarnation.”

(On the other hand, one finds some Orthodox Christians, especially among recent, hyperactive converts from Western churches, who resist the adoption of the word “Advent,” preferring to speak of “Winter Lent” or some such anomaly. One is hard pressed to explain this eccentric, lamentable preference for Anglo-Saxon over Latin on a point of theology.)

Several other features of Advent deserve some comment:

First, in the West the First Sunday of Advent is treated as the beginning of the liturgical year. (In the East, the liturgical year does not begin with Advent but on September 1, which bears the traditional title, “Crown of the Year.” Its historical relationship to the Jewish feast of Rosh Hashana is obvious.)

Second, during the twentieth century there arose the lovely custom of the Advent wreath, both in church buildings and in homes. This wreath lies horizontal and is adorned with four candles. The latter, symbolic of the four millennia covered in Old Testament history, are lit, one at a time, on each Saturday evening preceding the four Sundays of Advent, by way of marking the stages in the season until Christmas. This modern practice has already started in some Orthodox Christian homes, where the longer season requires six candles on the Advent wreath.

Third, because of its emphasis on repentance, Advent is a season of great seriousness, not a time proper for festivity, much less of partying and secular concerns. Advent is not part of the Christmas holidays, and Christians of earlier times would be shocked at the current habit of treating this as a period of jolly good times and “Christmas cheer,” complete with office parties, the trimming of Christmas trees and other domestic adornments, the exchange of gifts, caroling, and even the singing of Christmas music in church.

All of these festive things are part of the celebration of Christmas itself, which lasts the 12 days from December 25 to January 6.

The seasons of the liturgical year involve more than liturgical services. The liturgical seasons is supposed to govern the lives of those who observe them. For this reason, anticipating these properly Christmas activities during Advent considerably lessens the chance of our being properly prepared, by repentance, for the grace of that greater season; it also heightens the likelihood that we will fall prey to the worldly spirit that the commercial world would encourage during this time.

Fr. Patrick Reardon is pastor of All Saints Antiochian Orthodox Church in Chicago, Illinois, and a Senior Editor of Touchstone: A Journal of Mere Christianity.