Ramblings of a Redneck Priest

All things medical seem to be on the minds of many people today. There’s hardly a single news broadcast that doesn’t feature a story about it.We wonder if “Obama-care” will pass through Congress and if it does, we wonder what the impact will be. Will there be adequate healthcare for the elderly, will families be able to afford coverage for their children, and will employers continue to offer insurance if there’s a public option, and so on? So, as I said, these seem to be very fearful and anxious times.

We are told that the answer to our fears is to just stay healthy. We are told that much of what we suffer could have been prevented. It’s just a matter of lifestyle choices. Therefore, it may be that in the future, our insurance and its cost will be tied to the lifestyle that we choose. I read somewhere that some states are trying to tie the cost of your premium to your BMI, or body mass index.Just the other day, I heard a dialogue between a student and a college administrator about the college’s new policy of making obese students take a class on losing weight or they would not be allowed to graduate.

So, preventive medicine may be just what the doctor ordered. I wonder though, if we all took better care of ourselves, would there be a need for so many doctors? I sometimes kid people by saying when we part company, “Stay out of trouble.” Then I add, “Well, I’m not sure about that because if you stay out of trouble, then I’ll be out of a job.” They just look back and smile. If we all stayed well, as much as possible, what would doctors do for a living?

We often speak of the Church as our spiritual hospital and that we are here because we are sick. There is preventative medicine –like prayer, fasting, and study-but because of our lifestyle choices, we have not followed the path to health. So, what would the Doctor order?

The Pharisees grumbled when Jesus went into the house of Matthew, the writer of the Gospel. After all, he was a tax collector, and they were the most hated people of all. Why would anyone in their right mind enter into a place filled with such uncleanness and spiritual disease? It is here that the Lord reminds them that the sick need a doctor. Then the Great Physician gives us his prescription: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” Mercy – this is a strange recommendation for the spiritually sick, or is it?

Every time we come to the Church, in fact any time we turn to the Lord, he meets us withmercy and not with judgment. If this were not so, then despair would most certainly kill us. Mercy renews us and strengthens us to continue our battletowards salvation.Yet, is the Lord’s mercy the only thing that Jesus meant? He did say earlier that the merciful would obtain mercy. So, mercy is something that we are to show as well. How might mercy be the very thing that the doctor ordered?

First, I can show mercy to myself.

I start with myself because I have found that if I have little mercy for myself, I will not be able to show it to others. I don’t mean that I simply justify and excuse everything that I do. I mean that I need to show mercy to my soul. I constantly hand my soul over to the robbers who take away for it everything that is good and leave my soul wounded and bleeding. Like the Samaritan, I could bind and dress my soul’s wounds. I could give it a little time to pray, a few morsels of spiritual reading, or an occasional visit to the hospital. Is that so hard to do? Why then, am I so reluctant to be merciful to myself? Like the Sadducee, the Pharisee, and the Scribe in the story of the Good Samaritan, I just pass by and show no mercy to my soul. I am too busy to bother. By showing no mercy to my soul, I find I have no mercy for others because my poor beaten and starve soul has nothing to give.

Then, I can show mercy to my family.

It used to be said that charity begins at home. I use to jest if charity begins at home, it usually stays at home. Yet, in truth, if I cannot show mercy at home, it is likely that I will not show it elsewhere.I used to counsel married couples who had a Christian orientation that they should try to practice the Sermon on the Mount in their marital relationship. If Jesus said that if an enemy compels us to go one mile, we should go two. If we are struck on one check, then turn the other. Most Christians would acknowledge that this is the way a Christian should act; yes that is until the Christian gets home, and then mercy sits outside the door.Disagreements occur between all loving couples and between parents and children.We all fail each other continually and the lack of mercy in a family can be shocking. I also counseled many couples bound for divorce, and not long into the interview, it was clear that mercy never lived in the house.

I can show mercy to my priest and to my Church.

The same truth applies here. If I cannot show mercy at Church, it is unlikely that I will show it elsewhere. Of course, disagreements are natural and we fail each other constantly. Yet, you would think that people seeking mercy from God would easily show mercy to each other. I would ask you to take a moment and look at your brothers and sisters in Church. What do you really know about them? What sorrows and burdens do they carry? If you don’t have a clue, then you never have to show mercy by binding up their wounds.Does your priest have wounds as well? I guarantee you that he does, andhe has many burdens to carry. When you offer to lift them a little, you show mercy to your priest.

Finally, I can show mercy the stranger and to my neighbor.

If I am merciful to myself, merciful to my family, and merciful to my church family, then I am better able to be merciful to strangers or to my neighbor. Again, we must be honest. What do we know about our neighbors other than that they are bothersome and irritating at times? The Lord said that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. God help me then because I don’t love my neighbors at all. Frankly I don’t really know much about them. If they have some personal problem, I’m sure that I’ll be the last to know. Life could beat them up and I wouldn’t see them because mercy does not guide my vision. If I am a merciful person, then I would have a merciful eye that would see the wounds in the man by the side of the road.

“Go learn this,” the Great Doctor says. “I desire mercy instead of sacrifice. Happy are you when you show mercy, for you shall obtain mercy.”

Let’s be honest. Whether you are Orthodox or not, there are times when life really sucks. At such moments, we wonder where God is and why He allows bad things to happen to “good” people. The philosopher Hume once said that the question of evil is the hook upon which all philosophy comes to hang. It seems that when bad things happen to us, we are often too ready to hang our faith on the same hook.

This scripture lesson came up the other day: “We would not have you ignorant, brethren, of the trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed beyond measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life.” (2Corinthians 1.8) “Despaired even of life”- now that must have been a really bad situation. I’ve been in some tough spots, but never any that bad. Why w ould God let such things happen to his chosen disciples? I can understand some sacrifice, some opposition, and a few nights in jail, but to despair of life? Isn’t that a bit much?

For philosophers, the Book of Job has never answered the question of the nature and origin of evil. Job, the righteous, not only suffered the loss of all of his material possessions and bodily health, he lost seven children in one night. In his terrible grief, he sat on an ash heap while his friends tried to comfort him by engaging in a theological debate. Certainly, since God is just and only punishes the wicked, they argue, Job must have committed some sin which resulted in his punishment. Job protested that he is innocent and doesn’t deserve such treatment. At the end of the Book, God makes an appearance and you think that we will finally get the answer to the experience of suffering.

Let me paraphrase the next part. God asks Job that if he had been around when He created the universe, could he have advised God on where to put the stars or how to set the bounds of the sea. Job replies that he could not have advised God.  God then concludes that even if he explained evil and suffering to Job, he wouldn’t understand it.

All right, I get it, but it doesn’t satisfy my intellect at all. Then Job says something interesting: “I’ve heard about you, but now I see you with my own eyes. Therefore, lI abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42) As I said before, this is not an answer that satisfies the philosopher, but it satisfies the Christian. It is the Presence that resolves all issues. It also gave meaning to the experience of St. Paul in Asia. “We had the sentence of death in us, so that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raises the dead…” I marvel at this statement and at the faith and understanding it exhibits. Again, this doesn’t explain why bad things happen, but it shows that when the Lord lives in our hearts, there is deeper meaning and purpose to all of life, including the bad times.

You learn this lesson when you stand beside a widow during a funeral reception. People come forward and say some of the worst things you could say in a situation like that. I know that they want to try and console the widow because they love her. I also know that they want the grieving to stop because most of us are uncomfortable in the presence of grief. We just feel that there must be something that we can say that will help. In the presence of profound grief, theological debates will have not resolve the pain. It is the Presence that makes the difference, and so, you stand by the widow and say nothing. You endure the uncomfortable feeling of helplessness, and your continued silent presence does more to comfort than any word that you could say.

We need not hang on the hook of Hume because there is One that hung on a Cross. He is with us even when we despair of life, and gives meaning to the ash pile.

Let’s review a bit of American history (don’t worry, it will be painless). In the past, American men and women went into the wilderness to start new communities. There were Shakers and the Oneida community, the Mormons, the Bruderhofs, the Ephrata communities, and one might even include the various Amish and Mennonite groups. The original Pilgrims came to the New World in hopes of establishing a new community. This isn’t just a past phenomenon. In recent years, we saw the establishment of communes, some secular and some religious. Some of them were benign, but some ended in tragedy (David Koresh and Jim Jones).

Actually, the desire for community has been with us since the beginning of human history. In our hearts, we hold to a hope that a new lifestyle might restore a bit of paradise and give life more meaning and purpose. Certainly, when you read the writings of St. Paul, you find him working, struggling, pleading and praying for community. To him, it was the Body of Christ in the world and he told us that we should never forsake it. What did a Christian community look like in those days?

In the last chapter of 1 Corinthians, St. Paul refers to Priscilla and Aquila. From both historical and archaeological studies, it is clear that Priscilla came from a wealthy Roman family. Her estate was on the “posh side” of Rome. Within the walls of her estate, she nurtured a house church and it was more than just a place to meet. Apparently Christians, of all ages and rank, lived in Priscilla’s compound. Archaeologists have unearthed graves that show the people from all the ranks of Roman society were buried there. It seems that people would sleep and eat there. During the day they would go out to do their work, but would return for the evening meal and worship. Now, that’s what I call a community.

From St. Paul’s writings, the theme of unity prevails as the essence of community. There was oneness of heart, and this meant that above all, love was the ground, the context, and the environment of Christian community. If love was present, then the next aspect of community followed naturally: unity of mind. Not only did they believe the same Creed, but they shared a common vision of what should happen next. With unity of heart and mind, the last thing followed easily – unity of activity, or the sharing of a common life.

I must admit that for most of my life, I have searched for community. I suppose I have been a utopian dreamer. I have seen this in action. The year I graduated from high school, 1969, Hurricane Camille hit our part of Virginia. Across the mountain, the people of Nelson County were swept away by walls of water and mudslides. They say that it rained 26 inches of water that night. The next morning, we many of us heard the news, we joined with the rescue squads and went over to try and find survivors. Many of us did what we could for as long as we could, but eventually, we had to return to work. The people who stayed were the Mennonites. It wasn’t a matter of desire; it was a matter of lifestyle. The Mennonite lifestyle gave many of them the freedom to stay and help.

One would think that the Orthodox Church would be the place where community would be a given. Sadly, this is not the case, at least not in the fullest sense. There are aspects of community, of course, but I believe that the lack of community has been the source of much grief among Orthodox Christians. Many times in the past, church members talked to me about their loneliness and sense of isolation, yet many of them were the most faithful workers and attendees. How is this possible?

Allow me acquaint you with a couple of terms that are used about monasteries. The words are “coenobitic” and “idiorhythmic.” The word “coenobitic” comes from the ancient Greek word “koinóbios” which means “a life in common, living together.” Later it comes to refer to monks living together and sharing a common life. (A side note: this seems to be an origin of the name Kenobi…as is Obi Wan Kenobi). The word “idiorhythmic” means that there is not a shared rhythm of life- everyone has their own rhythm. So a hermit or solitary would live an idiorhythmic life.

So far, it has been my experience that most Orthodox churches, at least in this country, are idiorhymic. Again, there are aspects of a common life: the Liturgy, trapeza, festivals, studies, etc. Yet, after these events, we return to own rhythm and on a daily basis, share little with the other members of our Church. We pattern our life after the demands of work, family, sport and cultural events, recreation, etc. Oh, we got rhythm, but it’s the rhythm of the world.

In Genesis, God establishes His rhythm in Creation. It says, “And the evening and the morning was the first day.” This is odd to us because our day begins in the morning and ends in the evening. God seems to have His day backwards! The Church has tried to maintain the rhythm of God in the way in which it worships. We do this because we know that the rhythm of God’s activity will bring salvation to our lives. So, the Church day begins in the evening at Vespers and ends the following morning with the conclusion of the Liturgy. Being attuned to the rhythm of the world, we are sure that the Church day begins on Sunday morning.

Here is where the battle is waged. The world has its own rhythm, and this rhythm does not lead to holiness or salvation, but to death. The rhythm of the world is very powerful and very subtle and we struggle between the rhythm of the world and the rhythm of the Church. One example would be the services on Saturday night. It’s the same everywhere and no jurisdiction is exempt– to be in church on a Saturday night just doesn’t seem to fit the rhythm of American life, and so the Church is usually almost empty for Vespers or Vigil.

What can we do? Again, St. Paul gives us some clues in the last chapter of 1^st Corinthians. First, watch! It is important that we see and understand how the rhythm of the world can takes over life. Then, stand fast. We need to understand unity is a gift of the Spirit, but we must stand fast and not be moved from it. We must stand against the compromise demanded by the rhythm of life. Then, be strong. The struggle against the rhythm of the world is a powerful struggle, and the weak will have great difficulty overcoming it. We need to pray for the strength to fight this battle.

I’m not saying that we need to sell our houses and all move in together, but surely there are ways that each of us could begin to have a better sense of God’s rhythm, a rhythm that we share with the other members of our Church community. It is also vital that we get our children to have rhythm, because once they are attuned to the rhythm of the world, it will be difficult to get them to Church when they get older.

I hope you got rhythm, but I hope it is the right one. It’s up to us really.

If you were awake during American history class, you might remember the story of the pioneers who travelled by covered wagon to western America. Being a difficult and dangerous journey, the pioneers would gather at places like St. Louis to form long wagon trains. They felt that there would be greater safety in numbers and they were right. As they traveled west, they encountered many natural obstacles and they were able to help each other. Often they would circle their wagons to experience community, to share food and water, and to dance and sing around the fire to drive away the loneliness and fear. But the thing they feared most was an attack by Native Americans.When attacked, the wagons would circle up to form a defensive barrier and the pioneers would shoot from behind their wagons. Usually, this tactic was successful and the wagon train could move on the promise of distant lands.

It’s been the same for the Church. For 2,000 years, we have traveled together through hostile country picking up new pioneers as we went along. We have gathered together to experience community, to share our food and water, and to sing and worship to drive away the loneliness and fear. When attacked, we too have circled our wagons and the biggest circle was called an “ecumenical council.”

You see it is our Orthodox nature to circle up. This is why we have Synods and Diocesan Councils and Ecumenical Councils.The First Ecumenical Council faced a fierce enemy in Arius and many pioneers lost their way. Other enemies would come and again the Church would circle its wagons. Each time, thank God, the Church was victorious.

Sadly, when we personally face opposition, the last thing we do is to circle up with other Orthodox Christians. Usually we run off in a snit to hide and lick our wounds. Maybe it’s just the modern culture in us, a culture that has isolated us in our houses and automobiles and work places. It is a culture that has murdered hospitality as a way of life. We are Daniel Boone crying out for elbow room and the hope to live untroubled in a cabin by ourselves.The problem is, when the enemy attacks, we are all alone.

It’s interesting to me that given the state of things today, the recession, the broken economy and empty stock portfolios, I don’t hear the Orthodox even talk about the possibility of circling up, of working together and sharing resources. The spirit of self-sufficiency continues to rule, and not the spirit of community.

There may be a reason why we are reluctant to circle up. I’ve heard it said that when attacked, the Orthodox circle up, but then instead of shooting at the enemy, they turn and shoot at each other. You find that this happens in local churches sometimes. The church is facing some problem or point of controversy, and the members start shooting at each other. They seem to forget that the true enemy is not the member who opposes them, but that the fight is “against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6.12)

In modern times, circling up has also become a serious problem. Some Orthodox people have circled up to leave out other Orthodox pioneers. They call them enemies and heretics and then start shooting at them. It is as if they believe that they are a big circle, an Ecumenical Council, who can decide who is in and who is out. It is very sad indeed. The thing is that like all wagon trains, we have a Wagon Master. He is very skilled because he knows the way of our enemies and knows the way to the Far Lands. He will tell us when it s time to have another big circle (an ecumenical council). No matter what the other little wagon circles say, an ecumenical council they are not.

Even so, let’s not give up circling the wagons but let it be for protection and not for exclusion. Let us seek out and welcome other pioneers into our circle. We face fierce enemies today who are very skilled in warfare. We cannot do it alone and we will have no protection if we travel alone in our little spiritual wagon.

The going ahead may be very difficult. If it is, and even if isn’t, let’s circle the wagons, pilgrims!

I’ll be honest. I love the ocean. I think it is a great natural wonder and it’s a pleasure to spend time on the water. However, I’m not a big fan of the beach and I hate to lay in the sun and tan. I had a friend who was a dermatologist who once told me that when your skin begins to turn brown, it’s telling you something: “Get me out of the sun, you idiot!” I have to admit that when I see white people intentionally turning themselves brown, I tend to be a bit critical. I think that if God wanted us in the sun, he wouldn’t have invented trees.

Now that I have that off my chest, I realize that being in the sun is beneficial. Exposure to the sun allows us to create vitamin D, an element essential to health. Long before we knew how to milk cows, we naturally made vitamin D as the sun inundated our skin. If there was no other source of vitamin D available, daily exposure to the sun would produce all the vitamin D that we would need. You can’t get your vitamin D sitting under a shade tree.

There once was a man named Barlaam, and frankly he was in the shade. He was a clever man, a philosopher, and a Greek. He taught that since God by his nature is invisible and unknowable, anyone who claimed to see God or experience God was either a liar or deceived. If Barlaam is correct, then we might as well stop fasting or praying, and go out for a dinner and a movie. Would good would such disciplines do? Orthodoxy would be like Islam: God is unknowable and all we can do is follow the rules given to us by his prophet.

Orthodoxy certainly believes that the essence of God was unknowable, but it took St. Gregory Palamas to show that the teaching of Barlaam was in error. Gregory taught that while we cannot hold the Sun itself, or even stand close to it, the Sun is known to us through its energies of heat and light. We can sunbathe in the heat and light of God, which is the Holy Spirit.

Near Salonika, you can find a cave in the rocks that was the home of Gregory Palamas. Here, he spent years in fasting and prayer and in his Lenten discipline, he experienced the Holy Spirit. Unlike Barlaam, St. Gregory did not come to this conclusion by the use of logic. Barlaam stayed in the shade, while St. Gregory became very tan indeed.

At this point in time, we are not even halfway through the Lenten Spring. It’s easy to lose heart or to grow weary, but St. Gregory shows us that our prayer and fasting is not in vain. Like him, this is how we can sunbathe in the heat of the Holy Spirit. The more we pray and fast, the stronger the heat and the light. The longer we stand in this heat and light of the Spirit, the more we begin to gain that healthy tan of holiness. The nice thing is we will never burn like we can in physical sunlight. Even better, we never need to use suntan lotion and you don’t get sand in your bathing suit.

St. Gregory Palamas, pray to God for us.