Poem for Eastertide

Easter Victory

The kingdom of the iron bars,

Shut fast on all, the great and small,

Sought to receive One whose descent

Was like a host vast as the stars

Upon some low, unseemly foe

Whose futile counter soon is spent,

And lies defeated, and unmourned.

So vain was the attempted grip

Upon the Son of Man, that One

Who in His dying trampled Hell.

Th’ Eternal in a Man, who ripped

Apart the gates of Death, a quake

That shook the cosmos.  Th’ ancient spell

Undone, in a moment, upturned.

Happy Eastertide!

Alleluia.  Christ is risen.

The Lord is risen indeed.  Alleluia.

Williams: 'Around him the whole universe reorganizes itself'

(this post is part 3 of a series - part 1,  part 2)

A final reflection on and  excerpt from Rowan Williams’ book The Dwelling of the Light: Praying with Icons of Christ.

As has been seen, Adam and Eve figure prominently in the icon of the resurrection.  Of course, Adam and Eve, and the opening chapters of Genesis, have become increasingly controversial in the modern era, with its scientific advances and theories about the origins of life and so forth.  I recall a conversation I had with a friend, in which he made a comment about doubting whether the doctrine of the Fall made any sense in light of theories about the biological evolution of humanity.  In his words, “What was there for us to fall from?”  I found a reasonable answer to that question provided by John Polkinghorne (the esteemed quantum physicist and Anglican priest).  He was actually responding to the question, ‘do you think Adam and Eve actually existed?’ which he answered thusly (I’m paraphrasing him): If we accept that there was a point in time when a man and a woman became spiritually conscious, that is, aware of God, then it is perfectly reasonable to assert that ‘Adam and Eve’ existed.  And it is also sadly probable that these first true humans were also the first to consciously turn away from God. 

In the excerpt below, Williams echoes this understanding of the Genesis narrative.  “Adam and Eve stand for wherever it is in the human story that fear and refusal of God began”.  And the good news, the gospel, is that Christ has been there, and has redeemed that moment.  But it is not only this particular fall that is redeemed, it is the Fall, the curse under which all of humanity and all of creation has groaned, the brokenness that afflicts our world.  All is bound up and brought together in wholeness by the victorious work of God in the resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ, “the one in whose company we come fully to life.”

Peace, and happy Eastertide!

   

“What Christ does and suffers affects all things, all areas of human experience and so all aspects of human relation, including relation with what is not human.  Around him the whole universe reorganizes itself, just as human history reorganizes itself around this new centre which is at the same time the ancient and unchangeable centre of God’s glory.  Once again, the Jesus who lived and died as a particular human being ‘opens out’ upon the glory of God.  And that glory is here visually brought down into the middle of the realm of death so that death may be swallowed up.

“As his hand grasps the hands of Adam and Eve, Jesus goes back to embrace the first imaginable moment of rebellion and false direction in human life – as in the icons and liturgy of the transfiguration we are reminded that he goes fully into the depths of human agony.  He reaches back to and beyond where human memory begins: ‘Adam and Eve’ stand for wherever it is in the human story that fear and refusal of God began – not a moment we can date in ordinary history, any more than we can date in the history of each one of us where we began to forget God.  But we are always dealing with the after-effects of that moment, both as a human race and as particular persons.  The icon declares that wherever that lost moment is or was, Christ has been there, to implant the possibility, never destroyed, of another turning, another future; in his resurrection, he brings all those possibilities to reality. 

“Looking at this, then, we can first of all be sure that Christ has chosen to accompany us from the first point at which we began to lose our faithfulness to God; that he has been there at the roots of whatever sin and self-destructiveness we have been involved in; and that he has already sown in us the seeds that will come to new life.  How they do depends on whether we are willing to put our trust in him as the one in whose company we come fully to life.”

~ Rowan Williams, The Dwelling of the Light

Saint Leo the Great: 'Admitted into the eternal Father's dwelling'

Almighty God, whose blessed Son our Savior Jesus Christ ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things; Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the ages; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God in glory everlasting.  Amen.
~ Collect for Ascension Day

A reading from a sermon by Saint Leo the Great:

"Throughout this time between the Lord's resurrection and ascension, my dear brethren, the Lord in his providence fulfilled one purpose, taught one lesson, set one consideration before the eyes and hearts of his followers: that the Lord Jesus Christ, who was truly born, truly suffered and truly died, should be recognized as truly risen.  The apostles and all the disciples had been filled with fear by his death on the cross, and their faith in the resurrection had been hesitant; but now they gained such great strength from seeing the truth, that when the Lord went up to heaven, far from feeling sadness, they experienced a great joy.  Indeed they had a great and mysterious cause for rejoicing.  For in the sight of the vast company of the blessed, human nature was exalted above the dignity of all the creatures of heaven, passing beyond the ranks of the angels, being raised above the high seat of the archangels, to receive an election that would have no limit until it was admitted into the eternal Father's dwelling, to share the glorious throne of him with whose nature it had been united in the person of the Son."          ~Leo the Great, Sermon I on the Ascension

Williams: 'That wholeness given by Christ's resurrection'

(this post is part 2 of a series - part 1,  part 3)

Having sketched how the icon of the resurrection points to Christ’s healing of divisions, even those between the living and the dead, Williams continues by noting that this brings critical insight into how Christians read the Scriptures. The Biblical figures, the patriarchs, prophets, and saints, are our contemporaries (the communion of saints) precisely because of Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus is the center upon which all else turns, in whom all things hold together. The Church Fathers were well aware of this; I love how they are able to see Christ in all the Scriptures, from Genesis right down to Revelation. Sometimes, I think, the Fathers may be justly criticized for overly stretching a text to read into it a Christian meaning, or going a bit overboard with an allegory. Certainly, it is important to understand the historical and cultural contexts in which a passage emerged. But even in these ‘creative’ cases, I find myself inspired by the Fathers’ interpretations, longing myself to be so soaked in the ever-present Christ that I cannot help but find Him everywhere I turn. And I do agree with Williams that ‘a proper Christian reading of the Bible’ must always be in the light of Christ and His work, or else ‘we shall read inadequately.’

“The Bible is not a human record from the distant past, full of a mixture of inspiring and not-so-inspiring stories or thoughts; nor is it a sort of magical oracle, dictated by God. It is rather, the utterances and records of human beings who have been employed by God to witness to his action in the world, now given to us by God so that we may learn who he is and what he does; and the ‘giving’ by God is by means of the resurrection of Jesus. The risen Jesus takes hold of the history of God’s people from its remotest beginnings, lifts it out of death by bringing it to completeness, and presents it to us as his word, his communication to us here and now. Because we live in the power of the risen Christ, we can hear and understand this history, since it is made contemporary with us; in the risen Christ, David and Solomon, Abraham and Moses, stand in the middle of our assembly, our present community, speaking to us about the God who spoke with them in their lifetimes in such a way that we can see how their encounter with God leads towards and is completed in Jesus. In the Fourth Gospel, Jesus speaks of Abraham being glad to see his coming (John 8.56); this is the thought that the icon represents. Just as Jesus reintroduces Adam and Eve as he takes each of them by the hand, so he takes Abraham and ourselves by the hand and introduces us to each other. And from Abraham we learn something decisive about faith, about looking to an unseen future and about trusting that the unseen future has the face of Christ. Thus a proper Christian reading of the Bible is always a reading that looks and listens for that wholeness given by Christ’s resurrection; if we try to read any passage without being aware of the light of the resurrection, we shall read inadequately.”   ~ Rowan Williams, The Dwelling of the Light

Williams: 'A new human community becomes possible'

(this post is part 1 of a series - part 2,  part 3)

I've been enjoying The Dwelling of the Light: Praying with Icons of Christ, by Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury.  The book consists of reflections on four of the most well known icons of our Lord: the Transfiguration, the Resurrection, 'the Hospitality of Abraham' (Christ as one of the eternal Trinity), and Christ Pantocrator (ruler and judge of the world). I highly recommend it, and look forward to reading more of Williams.

As we near the end of this Eastertide, I offer the following excerpts from Williams' reflection over the icon of the Resurrection.  In this depiction of Christ's victory over death, Williams sees a victory that bridges our human walls of division, gives living meaning to the witness of the Bible, and redeems and reconciles the whole created order.  In this and the next couple of posts, I'll briefly share some of his insights, beginning with how Christ liberates we "compulsive dividers ... (who) deny ourselves the life God is eager to give."

"Christ stands on a precarious-looking bridge, as if he is the one who by the great risks and pains of his incarnation connects what we have pulled apart.  And in those icons where we see him reaching out simultaneously to Adam and Eve, it is as if he is reintroducing them to each other after the ages of alienation and bitterness that began with the recriminations of Genesis.  The resurrection is a moment in which human beings are reintroduced to each other across the gulf of mutual resentment and blame; a new human community becomes possible.  And similarly, remembering the other figures from the first covenant in the background of the picture, we realize that this community is unaffected by any division between the living and the dead: David and Solomon, Abraham, Moses, Elijah and Isaiah are our contemporaries because of Jesus' resurrection."  

    

Two Ancient Readings for Eastertide

O God, whose blessed Son didst manifest himself to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open, we pray thee, the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.
~ Collect for the Third Sunday of Easter

Two readings from the ancient Fathers, which are appropriate for Easter, and which I have found inspiring.  First, from a sermon by Saint Ephrem the Syrian.  I'm always delighted by the way in which the Fathers see the whole of Scripture as turning upon and pointing to the supreme event of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  I also love the triumphant Christus Victor understanding of the work of Christ, so prominent in the early Church.  Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  

From Saint Ephrem the Syrian:

"Our Lord was trodden underfoot by death, and in turn trod upon death as upon a road.  He submitted to death and endured it of His own free will, in order to destroy death against death's will.  For our Lord went out carrying His cross, according to death's wish; He cried out on the cross and led the dead out from hell, against death's wish ...

And so, since death could not devour Him without a body and the world of the dead could not swallow Him up without flesh, He came to the Virgin, so that He might receive from her a chariot on which to ride to the underworld.  In the body He had assumed He entered death's domain, broke open its strong-room and scattered the treasure.

And so He came to Eve, the mother of all the living.  She is the vineyard whose hedge death opened by Eve's own hands, so that she might taste death's fruit.  Thus Eve, the mother of all the living, became the source of death for all the living. 

But Mary blossomed, the new vine compared with the old vine, Eve.  Christ, the new life, lived in her, so that when death, brazen as ever, approached her in search of his prey, life, the bane of death, was hidden within her mortal fruit.  And so when death, suspecting nothing, swallowed Him up, death set life free, and with life a multitude of men.

This glorious son of the carpenter, who set up His cross above the all-consuming world of the dead, led the human race into the abode of life.  Because through the tree the human race had fallen into the regions below, He crossed over on the tree of the cross into the abode of life.  The bitter shoot had been grafted on to the tree, and now the sweet shoot was grafted on to it so that we might recognize the One whom no creature can resist.

Glory to you!  You built your cross as a bridge over death, so that departed souls might pass from the realm of death to the realm of life.  Glory to you!  You put on the body of a mortal man and made it the source of life for all mortal men.  You are alive!  Your murderers handled your life like farmers: they sowed it like grain deep in the earth, for it to spring up and raise with itself a multitude of men."          ~ Saint Ephrem, Sermon on our Lord, 3-4.9

Having "set up His cross above the all-consuming world of the dead", Christ grasps Adam and Eve to lead them "from the realm of death to the realm of life."

 And here is Origen, reflecting on "the ransom", a common theme in patristic writings on the atonement:

"But to whom did He give His soul as a ransom for many?  Surely not to God.  Could it, then, be to the Evil One?  For he had us in his power, until the ransom for us should be given to him, namely the soul of Jesus; and he had been deceived, and led to suppose that he was capable of mastering that soul, and he did not see that to hold Him involved a trial of strength greater than he was equal to.  Therefore also Death, though he thought he had prevailed against Him, no longer lords it over Him, He having become free among the dead, and stronger than the power of death, and so much stronger than death that all who will amongst those who are overcome by death may also follow Him, death no longer prevailing against them.  For everyone who is with Jesus is unassailable by death.                   ~Origen, Commentary on Matthew xvi. 8

It's interesting to me that Origen's concluding remarks here represent essentially my own attempt to explain the resurrection to my young children.  More than once, when we've talked about the meaning of Easter, I've said something to the effect of, "Because Jesus was raised to life, it means He is stronger than death.  And since we are with Jesus, we don't need to be afraid of death either."

A question for the reader (if I may be so presumptuous): When we seek to explain a spiritual truth (e.g. the atonement, the Trinity, the Eucharist) to an inquiring child, should we expect to find ourselves coming nearer to the heart of the matter than we might in a "mature, adult conversation", or is it more likely that we shall find ourselves trying to convey complex, theological doctrines in a simplistic manner that does not adequately plumb the depths of deep concepts which deserve nothing less than a lifetime of reflection? I am not suggesting that we shouldn't try to impart the faith to our children in terms that they can understand. I am wondering if we should generally look to such conversations as valuable distillations of essential truth, or rather be wary of them as attempts to state simply truths which are not in fact simple. I suppose I am here asking that ancient question posed to our Lord: What is truth? Is it by nature simple or complex?

Peace.     

Yes, The Resurrection Actually Is That Important

I am not much given to ranting.  I'm a pretty non-confrontational guy, and I like to look for the good in things, and focus on that.  I'm committed to the Church and to living faithfully as a follower of Christ and helping others to do the same, and I don't see how an incessant focus on the shortcomings of the Episcopal Church or individual leaders in that church does much good for the Kingdom, or helps others to live as disciples of Jesus.  I hardly ever visit places like Virtue Online, and I try to steer clear of those blogs that seem to have nothing to say other than to righteously lambast the most recent demonstration of TEC's "apostasy".  Honestly, I have no desire to be that guy.  And frankly, as someone who is seeking ordination in the Episcopal Church, I'm not sure I could keep my sanity if I didn't simply accept that there are indeed a lot of people in this church who say and do some pretty crazy things, and I can't change that.  I'm not going out looking for reasons to bewail the sad state of TEC; if I was, I would just be angry and frustrated all the time.  Definitely not my thing.

That said, I'm now going to allow myself a rant.  For one thing, it's probably good for me, at least every once in a while, to stand up and state something emphatically.  Because that's really not my style.  Like I said, I'm non-confrontational -- probably a bit too non-confrontational.  Sometimes, confrontation is unavoidable, and to simply let things go may not so much be a demonstration of loving patience as a proof of cowardice or apathy.  But more to the point, the source of my angst in this instance has just been really bugging me, and the more I think about it the more upset I get, so I'm going to get it out here.

The bishop of Washington recently posted a reflection on her blog, which I think may not unfairly be summarized as follows: 'Yes, the resurrection of Jesus is of vital importance to the Christian faith -- but, the resurrection really means whatever you want it to mean.'  Seriously?  I mean, I wish no ill will to the bishop, but seriously?  Sometimes I just want to throw my head back, Charlie Brown-style, and yell "AAARRRRGGH!  I can't stand it!"  It's just hard to conceive of how we've arrived at this point, where the sermons, statements, and books of so many of the leaders of our church seem to be so wanting.  It's embarrassing.  It's not simply that basic doctrine is being questioned, and in some cases flatly rejected; it's that the "rational, philosophical" alternatives so seldom strike me as even being very creative or interesting.  God's revealed truth is not being displaced by the enlightening truth of enlightened man, but by intellectual laziness built on a foundation of feelings.

In responding to a parishioner's question about whether or not "we needed to be bound by so unreasonable a proposition that Jesus’ tomb was, in fact, empty", Bishop Budde responds,

"To say that resurrection is essential doesn’t mean that if someone were to discover a tomb with Jesus’ remains in it that the entire enterprise would come crashing down. The truth is that we don’t know what happened to Jesus after his death, anymore than we can know what will happen to us. What we do know from the stories handed down is how Jesus’ followers experienced his resurrection. What we know is how we experience resurrection ourselves."

Well, I'll have to differ on that.  First, I think the New Testament writers go to some lengths to prove precisely that Jesus was, in fact, raised from the dead by the power of God.  The tomb really was empty, and this really is the vital point that ultimately declares the victory of God in Christ and gives power and legitimacy to the gospel message.  The Apostle Paul stresses this numerous times in his epistles, nowhere more clearly than in I Corinthians 15, where he writes that if Christ has not been truly raised from the dead than this whole Christian faith thing is a sham, his preaching and their faith is empty and worthless, the dead who had placed their hope in Christ have perished, and we find ourselves the most pitiable people on earth, because we've been duped.  Pretty strong language.  But to Paul, yes, the resurrection actually is that important.  The gospel writers take pains to relate clearly that Jesus truly did die, and then truly was raised in His body.  He gave up His spirit and was sealed in a tomb.  But then God raised Him to new life.  The apostles and many others witnessed and attested to this fact, they embraced His resurrected body, they ate with Him.  Yes, His was a new resurrection body, "sown perishable, raised imperishable"; yes, He appeared in a locked room; but the testimony remains emphatic: Jesus was raised from the dead, leaving behind an empty tomb.  This is the Gospel.

I was recently reading the book of Acts.  Perhaps it's due in part to our now being in the midst of the Easter season, but I was struck by how truly central the resurrection is in that book.  Right off the bat Luke sets the tone by asserting that after His resurrection, Jesus presented Himself to the apostles with many "convincing proofs" that He was indeed truly alive.  The resurrection as the ultimate demonstration of Jesus' exaltation as the true Messiah of God is the whole thrust of Peter's message to the crowds on Pentecost, and later before the Sanhedrin.  Later still, when Paul preaches to the Athenians at the Areopagus, his address culminates in the assertion of Christ's resurrection.  The Athenians sneer, and later Festus says that Paul has gone out of his mind when he speaks of the resurrection.  To which Paul replies, "No, you misunderstand.  I'm not necessarily talking about an actual bodily resurrection.  Ha!  That's crazy!  I mean, I know that's what I said, but it's not what I meant.  I'm not asking for your 'intellectual acceptance of an outlandish proposition' (to borrow a phrase from Bishop Budde) --"  Oh, wait ...

See, it's not just that the whole New Testament obliterates the kind of subjective, experienced-based interpretation of the resurrection that is put forward by Budde and others.  It's that I don't find the alternative even remotely compelling.  Budde's remark about how the disciples' "experienced his resurrection" sounds like the old Borg-Spongian idea that the disciples had some kind of mystical, indescribable "experience" of Jesus after His death, and that we don't really know what that means.  I remember reading an explanation by one of the two (I think it was Spong), that "the disciples just knew that Jesus was with them in a special way now, so special that they could even talk about him being alive" or something like that.  You know, like how Aunt Sally said that she could really feel grandma's presence at the family reunion, that grandma was here, even though we all know grandma is actually stone-cold dead underground.  Real earth-shattering stuff, this "resurrection experience".

I wouldn't mind it so much if this was simply an individual Christian thinking out loud, pursuing truth and asking questions and groping towards God.  But this is a published reflection by a bishop of the Church.  She solemnly swore before God "to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of The Episcopal Church" (BCP pg. 513).  The office of bishop entails a number of duties, but perhaps none so important as that of serving as a "guardian of the Church's faith" (ibid pg. 519), which faith is sufficiently summarized in the Nicene Creed, which states that "On the third day, he rose again, in accordance with the Scriptures".  I imagine Bishop Budde would claim that she does indeed believe that He rose, but I feel at this point that words don't even much matter to the people who make these kind of subjective arguments in an attempt to make the faith rationally palatable.  According to the BCP ordinal, the bishop is to "boldly proclaim and interpret the Gospel of Christ, enlightening the minds and stirring up the conscience" of the people (ibid pg. 518).  When we look to our bishops to do this, surely, surely the Episcopal Church deserves to expect better than to hear, "Yeah, the resurrection, like, whatever."

Alleluia!  Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed.  Alleluia!