There can’t be a holier place than the Holy Land, can there? We first visited the land of the Bible nearly twenty years ago, and it was a life-changing trip, 1996. Brian and I had gone on a Christian pilgrimage trip while we were in the midst of building our sanctuary and church building here at Word of Life. This building program that had stretched on for nearly two years had turned into a nightmare. We had given all our savings to the building program, and could never have even considered the trip if complete strangers had not arranged to have our way fully paid.
The trip was a surprise gift that came right out of heaven, a chance for a true rest from the relentless stress. From the very first day we were somehow able to forget everything we had left behind. (Even our three boys!) We both went asking God to speak to us and renew our hope — to do something special for us. And he did. I remember walking through the woods of the northern Galilee to an archaeological site that was being excavated — the ruins of the ancient city of Dan, the northernmost point of the land to which Abraham had been called. Archaeologists had found the gate, the four thousand year old gate of that ancient walled city and had exposed it to view. I stood in awe, looking right at the very stones that the Patriarch Abraham had walked on when he first set foot in the land of the Canaanites, the Promised Land.
Something deep inside me shifted when I saw that gate. My perspective changed. I had always believed in Abraham, I believed the Bible, I believed it was possible to walk by faith and do by the help of God what we could not accomplish on our own. But when I saw that gate, I somehow knew it more deeply than ever before.
There is no formal doctrine in the Orthodox Church concerning the afterlife for animals, including our pets. Those Fathers of the Church who have expressed themselves on this matter were simply expressing theological opinions that have not become universally accepted, and remain known as “theologoumena” (personal opinion).
The Church has wisely refrained from pronouncing conclusively regarding the afterlife, for much remains unknown. We will not truly understand what awaits us after this life until we have entered into the afterlife. As Orthodox Christians, we simply accept the Nicaeo-Constantinopolitan Creed, reciting the words, “I look for….the life of the world to come.”
By God’s grace and our cooperation with this grace, we expect to inherit eternal life. We believe that all beings who have been a part of our lives will also be there. Some of us would even hope, along with C.S. Lewis, that it might be possible Paradise will also include our beloved pets, and even the animals that have contributed in a myriad of ways to our own well being. Would it be possible that the cow that provided milk for our children, and cheese for our table, might one day join us in a Paradise where there is no death and no pain?
C.S. Lewis describes something like this in his book “The Great Divorce” in which a sanctified lady in paradise is accompanied by a myriad of animals as she walks in glory through the fields of Paradise.
Thomas Merton, like C.S. Lewis and Simone Weil, has not always been best served by his most ardent admirers. It is a welcome thing that—in all these cases—we have so much ‘informal’ material to help us see them actually developing their ideas, testing out thoughts without feeling they have to take full responsibility for them. The trouble comes when those admirers, rather overwhelmed by the sheer volume of material, feel obliged to defend everything their heroes wrote, formal and informal, so that the fallible and multi-coloured humanity of the writer becomes a bit fixed and frozen.1
– Rowan Williams
I think that Thomas Merton could easily be called the greatest spiritual writer and spiritual master of the twentieth century in English speaking America. There is no other person who has had such a profound influence on those writing on spiritual topics, not only on Catholics, but non-Catholics, as Merton. The only contender would be the enormous popularity of C.S. Lewis. I think that they are very different kinds of persons who led very different kinds of lives. They both were greatly shaped by the English literary tradition, both of them were excellent writers, and both of them wrote out of very deep experience.2
— Lawrence Cunningham
I
Separate Solitudes
C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) and Thomas Merton (1915-1968) have tended to have different followers and devotees. Many are the articles, books, conferences and societies that hold high Lewis and the Inklings (and those like MacDonald, Chesterton, Barfield and others), but such a committed tribe often know little about Thomas Merton. Many are the conferences, learned journals, books and articles that celebrate the life and writings of Thomas Merton, but many in the Merton clan often know little about Lewis and friends. This essay will, hopefully, transcend such tribalism by examining and exploring both the thematic affinities between Lewis and Merton and, equally important, the explicit references both men make, in an appreciate manner, about one another.
Making peace is what the Gospel is all about. But there are difficult sayings of Jesus that may, on the surface, make it appear otherwise. In this series, I attempt to wrestle a blessing from those sayings, and today, I’d like to focus on a couple that are especially problematic for peacemakers. I’m referring to the verses in which Jesus mentions “swords.”
Two verses in particular, Matthew 10:34 and Luke 22:36, might be used to justify violence. Though the sayings are very different, as the former refers to a metaphorical sword and the latter refers to a literal one, they have some contextual connections, and both statements have been used to refute pacifism. However, through the lens of mimetic theory, both statements can also be used to show how Jesus’ peace subverts the human understanding of peace founded on the corpses of victims. Jesus’ rejection of the language of peace is ultimately his rejection of the premise on which human cultures build their peace; likewise, his invocation of the “sword” subverts our understanding of and reliance on violence.
“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—one’s enemies will be the members of one’s own household.” (Matthew 10:34-36)
The Chester Ronning Centre, led by director David Goa, presents UEncounter, an online contemplative gallery exploring the meaning of the Incarnation. Canadian musician, Steve Bell, regards it as 'probably the best use of the web' that he's seen.
I first met Jim Forest -- author of Loving Our Enemies: Reflections on the Hardest Commandment (Orbis, 2014) -- about five years ago when he made the trek from Holland to the south coast of British Columbia to, among other speaking gigs, give an intimate talk on St. Ephrem's Lenten Prayer at my small Orthodox parish then meeting in a converted barn. While giving him a ride from the church to the place he was staying that night, our conversation veered into Eastern Orthodoxy's somewhat underestimated inclusive embrace despite its miscalculated reputation of cold exclusivism -- even if falling victim to this unfortunate reputation at times. From this initial encounter, I was instantly impressed by the judicious and calm manner in which Jim reflected on, in this case, a somewhat thorny ecclesiological issue that reflects the need for more peacemakers to engender ecumenical hospitality.
The inspiring talk he gave at an Orthodox Peace Fellowship conference I organized in Abbotsford, BC in the summer of 2012 only reaffirmed his stoic humility. And the open arms of Orthodoxy that we had discussed a couple years earlier was echoed by Jim's hospitality when he opened his cozy and welcoming home in the historic heart of Alkmaar, Holland to my friend and I while en route to Egypt for a research project on interreligious peacebuilding between Muslims and Coptic Christians. Over the years, I have witnessed -- even if mostly from a distance -- and come to admire Jim's ability to speak calmly, though no less confidently, in hostile arenas and on contentious issues. This is the avoidance of making enemies when speaking on the topic of loving our enemies -- however demanding and imperfect such attempts may be for anyone dipping their toe in such vexed exchanges and themes.
Like Jim Forest himself, Loving Our Enemies exudes gentle wisdom. Ever the engaging and vivid storyteller, Forest weaves together profound anecdotes and quote-worthy insights to ennoble the cessation of enmity and cultivation of reconciliation in this latest offering. For my money, the chapter "Holy Disobedience" is worth the price of admission alone. The book avoids highfalutin jargon and the reader won't get bogged down by esoteric theological terminology, making this a very accessible and fluid read befitting a lay audience -- which a book on this perennially sidelined topic should be. Much deserved, Loving Our Enemies is also the Gold Medal winner in the theology category of the 2015 Illumination Book Awards.
"There was the strangest combination of church influence against me. ... My wife had some relations in the Presbyterian churches, and some in the Episcopal churches; and therefore, wherever it would tell, I was set down as either one or the other, while it was contended everywhere that no Christian ought to vote for me because I belonged to no church, and was suspected of being a Deist and had talked of fighting a duel." - Abraham Lincoln
On Good Friday, 150 years ago, Abraham Lincoln was shot while watching a play at the Ford Theater in the nation’s capitol city. Some say that just before John Wilkes Booth fired his .44 Derringer point blank into the back of the President’s head, Lincoln had been ignoring the play and was talking with his wife about a possible visit to the Holy Land. With the long Civil War nearly over (the last Confederate general would not surrender until over two months later), Lincoln wanted to make a pilgrimage to see first-hand where Jesus was born, lived, taught and was crucified.
If this story is accurate, and these were the last thoughts of Lincoln, we have a quandary. Lincoln was never a member of any church. Beyond that, he seemed at one time to have rejected the Bible and Christianity altogether. Will the authentic Abe Lincoln please stand up to his full height of 6 feet 4 inches?CLICK ON THE IMAGE below to continue reading:
Fr. Cyril Hovorun is a scholar in Patristic and Political Theology at Yale University, and an Eastern Orthodox Priest. He will be presenting lectures this week at the University of the Fraser Valley in Abbotsford, BC (and elsewhere).
23 March, "Religious Ethos of Putin's Regime in Russia," Cyril Hovorun
morning: 8:30-11:20: UFV D115
afternoon: 1:00-3:50: A402
24 March, "God in Maidan Square*: Religious Implications of the Ukrainian Revolution for Easter Christianity," Cyril Hovorun
afternoon: 1:00-3:50: UFV A402
*Maidan Square is the square in Kiev where the revolution began.
25 March, "Symphony* and Its Reincarnation in Our Days," Cyril Hovorun
afternoon: 1:00-3:50: UVF D115
*Symphony is a theory of church-state relationships.
26 March, "Faith and Public Life," Cyril Hovorun
CHILLIWACK CAMPUS UFV / Hosted by Holy Apostles Orthodox Church
evening: 7:00-9:30: UFV CEPA 220
David Goa and F. Volker Greifenhagen on Engaging Islam
Sponsored by Vancouver Lutheran and Anglican Churches and Luther College, University of Regina
Thursday, 26 March, 10:00 am - Meeting with church women. Hope Lutheran Church, Nanaimo, BC
Friday, 27 March, 8:30 am - Hope men’s breakfast. Hope Lutheran Church, Nanaimo, BC Friday, 27 March, 10:00 am - General open meeting to introduce Islam. Hope Lutheran Church, Nanaimo, BC
Friday, 27 March, 7:00–9:00 pm - Seven things everyone needs to know about Muslims. First Lutheran Church, Vancouver, BC
Saturday, 28 March, 9:00 am–2:30 pm Violence in Religion, Landscape of our Conversation with Muslims, Spiritual Friendship First Lutheran Church, Vancouver, BC
"We need to let it soak in that there is nothing we can do to make God love us more…and nothing we can do to make God love us less." - Philip Yancey
"We all need to know that God does not love us because we are good; God loves us because God is good. Nothing humans can do will ever decrease or increase God's eternal eagerness to love." - Richard Rohr
I remember when I first heard these kind of statements and sort of cringed. I was suspicious that those who echoed Philip Yancey or Fr. Richard might employ them to imply, "So it doesn't matter what you do." I don't think I hear Jesus saying, "It doesn't matter what you do," and in fact, that's certainly not what Yancey or Rohr are implying either. I believe it's pretty obvious that God (through Christ and in these two fine teachers) wants us to love others and emulate his grace and mercy in our lives. That matters a lot! And it seems God has also made it clear that harming others, or judging and condemning them is something he'd want us to turn from as we grow up. Discovering God's infinite love for us isn't simply a green light for an "anything goes" attitude.
But implications and suspicions aside, the more I soak in the New Testament Gospels and epistles, and as I continue through to the early church fathers and mothers, the more I see how and why these opening aphorisms are exactly right.
First, consider the phrase, 'there's nothing you can do to make God.' This is absolutely true: no one can 'make God' do or be anything other than what he is. That is, God loves us with an infinite love, because God IS love ... but nothing in heaven or earth or under the earth canconstrain God to love us or not love us. His love is what the ancient theologians called a 'self-donation.' We don't seduce his love by being either adorable or pathetic -- his love flows entirely from his nature and is utterly voluntary. He is "moved to compassion," not because we 'trigger' him or manipulate him with our pleas, but rather, because God is compassion itself and his love flows without ceasing wherever and to whomever it is received. My experience of God's love may fluctuate as I welcome it or rebuff it, but God himself cannot be said to love us more or less, as if his very nature was dependent on our behaviour or jerked around by our emotional rollercoaster rides.
Why not? Because for God to be God means that he is the infinite perfection of all we call goodness and love. God can't become more than perfect or more than infinite. God cannot become more loving or more God. If he could become 1% more, that would mean he's only 99% now ... and that would be 1% less than God. Get it? And he cannot become less in any way -- less God, less infinite, less love -- because that would diminish him. And to diminish God even 1% would mean he would no longer be the perfection of love -- would no longer be God.
Lent is our season of honesty. It is a time when we may break out of our illusions to face the reality of our life in preparation for Easter, a radical new beginning.
When, through this illusion breaking homework, we connect with reality we see that in our society the fabric of human community is almost totally broken and one glaring evidence of such brokenness is the current unrelieved tension between police and citizens in Ferguson, Missouri. That tension is rooted in very old racism; it also reflects the deep and growing gap between "the ownership class" that employs the police and those who have no serious access to ownership who become victims of legalized violence. This is one frontal manifestation of "the covenant that they broke," as referred to in the Jeremiah text for this week: a refusal of neighborly solidarity that leads, with seeming certitude, to disastrous social consequences.
Of course the issue is not limited to Ferguson but is massively systemic in US society. The brokenness consists not so much in the actual street violence perpetrated in that unequal contest. The brokenness is that such brutalizing force is accepted as conventional, necessary, and routine. It is a policy and a practice of violence acted out as "ordinary" that indicates a complete failure of neighborly imagination.
Lent is a time for honesty that may disrupt the illusion of well-being that is fostered by the advocates of indulgent privilege and strident exceptionalism that disregards the facts on the ground. Against such ideological self-sufficiency, the prophetic tradition speaks of the brokenness of the covenant that makes healthy life possible.
To many, John Dominic (Dom) Crossan might not be a household name, something that must be remedied if we are ever to recover a vision of the “real” God.
Crossan is one of those scholars whose thinking and working through of ancient texts constantly stretches and moves the reader to new levels of understanding, especially when the reader is open to viewpoints that may seem completely out of left field (I emphasize “seem” here, the reader would do well to ignore their internal proof-texter).
In his latest; How to Read the Bible and Still be a Christian: Struggling with Divine Violence from Genesis to Revelation Crossan joins the chorus of those he helped teach to sing in calling for a rethinking of how we view violent action in the bible. In a time when religion is at its worst and most violent in many parts of the world, there remains a glimmer of hope for those serious enough to take Jesus’ words “love your enemies” to heart.
Crossan’s treatment of the text is nothing short of spectacular, even when I didn’t agree with his assertions. With skill, wit, and all the finesse of the intellectual giant that he is, Crossan manages to successfully navigate those troublesome texts (even ones you might not think are so troublesome) and, at least in a small way, begins the redemptive process of the text-its own salvific moment if you will.
Making use of Roman and Jewish (whether homeland or Diaspora) societal context, I found Crossan able to explain many a troublesome passage with the ease of a grandfather telling a story rather than a professor giving a lecture. That is a feat in and of itself in these days of verbose scholarship. For anyone interested in a more serious and, in my opinion, faithful rendering of the so-called “violence” texts, this book needs to be among a short list of go-to material.
Messner is not only the greatest high-altitude mountaineer the world has ever known; he is probably the best it will ever know. Time
Reinhold Messner is considered by many to be one of the most significant mountaineers of the 20th century (if not the crowned prince of modern mountaineers)----he is also one of the most published mountaineers of the 20th century (almost 50 books in print and three movies made on his controversial life: The Dark Glow of the Mountains (1984),Nanga Parhat (2010) and Messner (2012)
I have been rather fortunate, in the last few months, to be in touch with Reinhold Messner by email—his recent book, Reinhold Messner: My Life at the Limits (2014), is an engaging, interview style autobiography, that spans the decades when Messner was at top form and summiting the most demanding peaks in the world---few can claim the top of the world climbs that Messner has done in his life (3000 climbs, 100 1st ascents and the 1st to climb all of the world’s 8000 metre peaks). Messner is 70 this year, and since leaving politics with the Green Party (he was with the European Parliament from 1999-2004), he has committed himself to building the Messner Mountain Museum (MMM) in the South Tyrolean region of Northern Italy---yet another peak to climb and topped it he has. The MMM (which is, in reality six museums) brings together the best and finest of global mountain culture---Messner has a flair for doing things on an epic scale, and the MMM is of such grandiose proportions.
The stories of St. Patrick are wild, fanciful and mostly unsubstantiated. As with the lives of many early saints, the lore compared to the actual lives lived may well be very distant cousins. But that doesn’t mean the tales can’t be received as inspired with truth. There is often poetic veracity embedded in dubious tales. The very fruition of these legends over time gives witness to humanity’s relentless struggle through darkness toward light, from ignorance to understanding, from cursedness to blessedness. The stories tell of heroic, counter-intuitive deeds and selfless love, and show us how profoundly the way of Christ has penetrated into culture like an invisible, raising yeast.
What we know of Patrick’s life comes from two surviving documents written by the Saint himself. We learn that he was born in Britain, likely in the early 5th century, to Christian heritage. His father was a deacon and his grandfather was a priest. But by his own admission Patrick was not an active believer in his youth. At the age of sixteen, Patrick was captured by raiders who took him back to Ireland where he was enslaved for six years and made to work as a shepherd boy. This disorienting experience of abrupt dislocation and enslavement suppled his heart toward prayer and eventually led to his conversion to Christianity.
See more at: http://blog.stevebell.com/2015/03/feast-of-st-patrick/
George Grant always claimed that Lament for a Nation had been misunderstood.
— Sheila Grant, “Afterword” Lament for a Nation
Lament for a Nation has been called “a masterpiece of political meditation” (Peter Emberley) and it “encapsulated the difference between the Tory vision for Canada and the continentalist, mechanistic, commercialist view” (Segal). There can be no doubt that this compact political missive summed up much about Canadian politics, political theory, philosophy and theology—it has, sadly so, been misread by ideologues that shrink Grant’s grander vision of thought and action to their tribal agendas.
Sheila Grant, after George had died (and significantly encouraged by William Christian—one of the finest Grant scholars), wrote an “Afterword” to Lament for a Nation—the “Afterword” is a must read for those keen and committed to a fuller understanding of the meaning and significance of Lament for a Nation. I was fortunate to meet with Sheila Grant a few times (both at the Grant home on Walnut Street in Halifax and when she visited her daughters in Vancouver on the West Coast of Canada) and we, also, had a lengthy correspondence when she was alive (plus some fine phone conversations)—we talked much about her journey with her husband, George Grant, and the multiple misunderstandings of Lament—Sheila’s “Afterword” succinctly articulated many of her legitimate concerns.
Brian West is a gifted worship leader and songwriter and has the ability to deliver the songs he's been given in a very down-to-earth way that is accessible to a lot of people. Brian powerfully displays the Father-heart of God and will meaningfully pastor you as you listen to these songs.
Kevin Boese worship leader, songwriter, recording artist
Brian's album has captured the maturity of the long journey of his faith and God's faithfulness -- finding God in the muck of life beyond the wind and waves of so much 'happy-clappy' religious praise. Facing into the abyss of real-life griefs, he encountered 'the Man of sorrows' and authentic resurrection joy. You'll wake up with the melodies and lyrics echoing Good News from your heart.
On the second Sunday of Great Lent, Orthodox believers commemorate St. Gregory Palamas. Gregory's thirst for God’s presence experienced in unceasing prayer ultimately led him to the revelation that “The Light of Christ illumines all." His belief and teaching -- that the experience of God's grace is available to everyone -- is why he is counted among the most significant teachers of Orthodox spirituality.
Gregory's spiritual theology teaches us how it is possible for humans to know a transcendent and unknowable God. He distinguished between God's transcendent essence (beyond this world), and God's energies (in this world). God's uncreated energies are what created, and now sustains and governs the cosmos. Further, God's uncreated energies transfigure and deify the cosmos. By his energies, the Spirit of God is everywhere present and fills all things. Through God's actions or energies, God is revealed to us and experienced by us ... as love, as grace. God's energies are how God makes it possible for us to experience his immanent presence. Out of His love for the world, God enters into a direct encounter and immediate relationship with humanity.
This revelation opens out to the very heart of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The love and grace of God also needed to be seen through the Incarnation of God in Christ, so that in identifying with us in our humanity, we would also be able to identify with Christ, and so participate in his life-giving divinity. In his second Sunday of Lent homily, Vladika Lazar Puhalo presents the gospel of living faith, the 'faith once delivered,' in the spirit of St. Gregory Palamas. In this homily, he identifies and emphasizes the energies by which God communicates his grace to us; the meaning of the Incarnation as Christ's participation and identification with us; and especially the meaning and revelation of the Cross, both for our salvation and as our own calling to communicate God's grace and compassion to the world as well, while fasting from judgment, malice, envy and condemnation.
Second Sunday of Lent Homily - Vladika Lazar Puhalo
Thankfully, we need not only hear about Gregory Palamas or read archaic versions of his works. We can now read his homilies for ourselves in Christopher Veniamin's beautiful, fresh translation. Sixty-three of Gregory's inspired sermons (in 525 pages) are followed by another 230 pages of rich notes and indexes by subject, scripture and Greek words. By way of a sample, the following paragraph demonstrates Gregory's glorious gospel of living faith in Jesus Christ. It also highlights both the quality of his preaching and the exquisite transposition of his words into English.
When, by means of nature and creation, He had opened the school of virtues, he appointed guardian angels over us, raised up fathers and prophets as our guides and showed signs and wonders to lead us to faith. He have us the written law to assist the law implanted in our reasonable nature and the teaching given by creation. In the end, as we treated everything with scorn - how great is our laziness, and what a contrast with the long-suffering and care of Him who loves us! - He gave himself to us for our sake. Emptying the riches of the Godhead into our lowest depths, he took our nature and, becoming a man like us, was called our teacher. He Himself teaches us about His great love for mankind, demonstrating it by word and deed, while at the same time leading his followers to imitate His compassion and turn away from hardness of heart. (p. 17, my emphasis).
While the homilies address a variety of themes, most striking are those on the Gospel texts. His many helps and insights no doubt came from his years as a priest and monk, serving God in ceaseless prayer and serving God's people with Christ's mighty words and works (for he had the gift of healing). The Homilies are a must read for anyone pursuing spiritual theology, especially with an eye for the gifts which the Eastern monastic intercessors might offer us.