Divine Liturgy – St John’s Adult Education

Nativity Class #6 – The Cross Of Righteous Suffering – Victory Of The Cross By St. Dumitru Stăniloae

In our final Nativity class as we draw close to the birth of Christ, it is good for us to remember how even Christ’s birth reflects this cross of the righteous suffering. Perhaps you, like me, might be tempted to believe that if I’m trying to do the right thing with God … why is this so hard … why wasn’t there room at the inn … why did even finding a place to lay His head become a struggle? So often my life in Christ is complicated by the doubts of my expectations and desires. And, if I’m honest, placing myself on His throne … playing God by imposing my will … instead of accepting His and trusting that as I participate in His will I deepen an experience of God He desires that unites me to Him and reflects His Goodness. Perhaps in the final class, we need to be reminded of the question of the condition of my heart and St. Dumitru’s explanation of God’s purpose for us:

The fathers emphasized the goodness of God as the motive behind creation … God created all things in order that they might share in his Love, that is, full communion with God … the Good, as scripture testifies, produced everything and is the ultimately perfect Cause… God created the world for the sake of humanity, that the world be led towards the purpose of full communion with Him … only humans in a conscious way can rejoice more and more in the love of God and become God’s partners … The world serves this movement of raising ourselves to our ultimate meaning of achieving our fullness in communion with the personal God. All things impose on us a responsibility before God and before the world itself, and it is by the exercise of this responsibility that we increase in our communion with God and with our fellow human beings.

The Experience of God – Vol 2: The World: Creation & Deification (p.17-18) By Dumitru Staniloae

There is a transcendent mystery to our life in Christ .. one that forces us out of the comfort zone of our own understanding. And our life in Christ will reflect this cross if we live it with the daily willingness he is very clear will be presented to us:

If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me

Luke 9:23

Let’s have St. Dumitru use the life of Job to help us more deeply understand this cross of righteous suffering from his booklet ‘Victory of the Cross’ we’ve studied through Nativity.

In the end it is God alone who can explain the sufferings of the righteous, and he does it through the many questions which he asks Job, all of which draw Job’s attention to the Giver of gifts. God in effect says to Job, ‘All my gifts are wonderful, but the intention of their wonder is to reveal the infinite wisdom and greatness of the one who gives them all’.

Then Job answered the Lord and said: I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withheld from thee … I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not … I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Job 42: 1-3; 5-6

This means to say that up until this moment Job had always thought of God in much the same terms in which others had spoken of him; now he begins to understand God himself, beyond all his gifts, the Giver of everything. In order to gain this supreme treasure he had for a while to lose all his possessions. He lost the respect of others, he lost his health, his wealth—all things—in order to see God in all his greatness and wisdom and marvellous nature. In losing all things he did not doubt God and thus he came to see the apophatic, inexpressible character of God who is beyond all human understanding. He saw God in a higher way than is possible merely through his gifts. He saw him immediately through his suffering.

The believer continually needs to make abstraction of the things of this world, needs to put the things of this world into brackets of forgetfulness, in order to think of God who is above all human understanding. But sometimes it is necessary that God himself should intervene in order to throw into relief the little value of the things of this world in comparison with God, their transitory, passing nature in contrast to the eternity of God, in order to show us more clearly God’s infinite transcendence of his gifts and his ineffable presence with us. In such cases it seems to us that God himself abandons us. This is because sometimes we become so attached to things that we can no longer see God. Sometimes we make so close a link between God and the things which he gives, that we identify God with these things and totally forget God in himself, and then if God no longer shows his interest in us by giving us gifts it seems to us that he has abandoned us. For this reason the cross often seems to us a sign of our being abandoned by God. But it can also happen that God does really withdraw himself from our vision in order to prove and strengthen the tenacity of our love for him. Even our Lord Jesus Christ on the cross had this feeling of complete abandonment by God. But even the Lord Jesus never weakened in his love for God.

In reality, God never abandons us in whatever situation we find ourselves. It is possible that he may disappear for a time, for a moment, from our horizon, from our understanding. But the God whom we habitually think of in terms of creation will then appear to us in the true greatness of his glory which is indefinable and inexpressible in human thoughts and words. This is why in the Song of Songs it is said that sometimes God hides himself, and then again reveals himself in a higher and more glorious way:

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me, to whom I said: Saw ye him whom my soul loveth? It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother’s house and into the chamber of her who conceived me. (Song of Songs 3: 1- 4)

It is only then that we enter into a relationship with God which is truly personal, a relationship which is above all created things. This relationship with God is one no longer dominated by material images. Our ideas about things and about the gifts which God gives altogether disappear in the light of God himself. Thus purified we give ourselves wholly to God; and we are raised into the dialogue of love exclusively with him. Then we feel that God is infinitely greater than all his gifts and all his creatures, and that in this relationship with him we are raised to a different spiritual level at which we regain in him all that we had lost.

The Christian who has the love of God in him and who thus has love for every person—that love which is an imperishable and inexhaustible reality—feels a greater joy than all the joys which the things of this world can procure, a greater joy than his own existence lived as an isolated individual could ever give him. This is the fact which the righteous discover in their suffering. This cross is given to a man in order that he himself may come to discover God at another level, at an apophatic depth, but also in order to show to other men that there are those who can be attached to God in this way even when all their possessions are taken from them, and even when God himself seems to disappear from their view.

The Cross as the Mystery of Love

The mystery of the cross of the just is the mystery of love between men as eternal persons, the mystery of love for God, and also of the love which above all things must be affirmed amongst men. Truly to love a person means to love them for themselves even when they no longer give us anything, when they no longer seem to have goodwill towards us, even when they seem to show us an incomprehensible coldness or hostility which is altogether contrary to the goodness which they showed to us earlier, even when it seems that the other person has abandoned us even to death. For if we remain firm in our love towards others despite their incomprehensible hardness towards us, we make a true proof of love, of the love which we have for them. This is the love which God himself forms in us and which does indeed raise us from death. When love confronts even death, then it conquers death itself.

He who accepts the death which God gives, with the declaration of love on his lips, gives a supreme proof of a love which will never fail, a love which is given to the person himself and not to his gifts. It is in this supreme love for God that we find the mystery of the cross which is carried by the just, of whom God has given the perfect example in the person of Jesus Christ, and in the earthly suffering which he underwent for the love of God. The Son of God in becoming man accepted the cross first of all to show his love for men, despite their hatred and incomprehension of him which were to be the cause of his death in this world. But then by his death on the cross he has given us the example of a man in whom love for God has resisted to the end, even to being given up to death.

…The world has value only in so far as through it we see and receive the revelations and the energies of the person of God who in himself, in his essence, cannot be described, but whose energies are already at work in all creation and will be fully revealed in the transfigured world of the age to come. Until the last day God is at work in this world, leading it towards its resurrection, above all by means of the cross.

Thus the cross is the sign and the means of the salvation of the world. All the world is a gift of God, and by the cross all the world has to be transcended in God. Only in Christ is this meaning of the cross fully revealed. In the cross of Christ the salvation of the world is founded, and the salvation of the whole cosmos, because by the cross the tendency of the whole cosmos to transcend itself in God is accomplished. One cannot conceive of a world which is not saved, a world which would always remain in suffering, enclosed in itself, a world in which the cross would not fully fulfil the destiny of the world. Suffering would have no meaning at all unless it was leading the world towards its salvation in God. The hell of an eternal suffering is no longer ‘a world’, properly speaking, but simply fragments detached from the world without meaning and without solidarity amongst themselves, shadowy, phantasmagoric fragments of the world. In hell suffering is eternal and would finally swallow up the gift. In the kingdom of God the world has been transfigured by the cross through which God himself is finally revealed and glorified.

Repentance Through Thanksgiving – The Engraving Of Christ In Man’s Heart (From Chapter 2) By Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou

As we enter Thanksgiving week, I thought it might be useful to explore thanksgiving as a means of repentance. Many of us may elevate repentance to this difficult place that we intend to move towards but we can’t seem to find a way to get started. I think the prescription of using gratitude and thanks as a means of practicing repentance can help us begin today on this journey of repentance. Archimandrite Zacharias is alive and a monk at the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Essex, England. He is a frequent visitor to the U.S. and a disciple of St. Sophrony who was his spiritual father. I hope you find this article a great way of combining repentance and Thanksgiving …adding substance and meaning to this holiday – Bruce M.

What theory and which thoughts contribute to this greatest miracle known to the created world, namely, the union of the heart of man with the Spirit of God?

We are given this theory in Holy Scripture, where we learn that from the excess of His goodness, God formed man’s heart in a unique way, and it was the target of His visitation from evening until morning and from morning until evening. 8 It was made to be suitable for and capable of receiving its Creator when He would come into the world for the salvation of all. In order to take care of man and make him in the image of His Son, that is, a god according to grace, He conceived such a great plan for him, that He even ‘spared not His own Son’ 9 in order to fulfil it. Certainly, if man occupied the Mind of God ‘before the foundation of the world’, 10 then he must indeed be sublime in his origin and his destination, and extraordinary in the potential hidden in his nature which is made in the image of God.

This theory inspires faith which is activated by love and gratitude. Through thanksgiving to God for His merciful providence, the believer is enriched with spiritual gifts. We receive grace in proportion to the gratitude we show. As the great Saint Maximus says, God measures out His gifts to men according to the gratitude with which they receive them. 11 Thus we enter the blessed fulness of God’s grace: the greater the gratitude and glory we offer Him, the more abundant is the measure of His gifts to us. By thanksgiving, man acquires a hypostasis in the sight of God and his life has value in eternity, so that in the day of His glorious coming he will be able to stand in His unshakeable presence.

Moreover, with the gifts that he has, the believer enters into the communion of the gifts of the other members of the Body of Christ, the Saints and all of the Lord’s elect upon earth. In this rich assembly of grace, which the believer enters through thanksgiving and gratitude, he forgets about the smaller gifts he has received, and reaches out to a greater fulness of love and perfection, hungry and thirsty for the gift of God. Anyone who thanks God is a stranger to despondency, yet is overcome by a blessed sadness, because he cannot thank God for all His benefits in a manner worthy of Him, even for every breath of air which He pours out upon the face of the earth. 12 Consequently, thanksgiving such as this, leads to true repentance of which there is no end in this life. Then we understand why, in His Gospel, the Lord places self-condemnation arising from gratitude above all the commandments, deeming that we are useless and unworthy even when we have fulfilled all His commandments. ‘So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, we are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do.’ 13 Such a spirit preserves divine grace fervent in the lives of the faithful, and this leads to inspiration that saves, by sending away deathly despondency and giving strength daily to ‘perfect holiness in the fear of God’. 14

The way of thanksgiving heals us from the passion of pride, and strengthens us against the temptation to despair. Thanksgiving and gratitude equal humility, which can be inferred from the word of the Apostle Paul: ‘Now we have received, not the (proud) spirit of the world, but the (humble) spirit which is of God; that we might (gratefully) know the things that are freely given to us of God.’ 15 It is important, consequently, to remember that the blessing and the grace of God increase within us through humility and particularly through thanksgiving. Holy Scripture, both Old and New, confirms this saying, ‘God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble’. 16 When we enter the grace of thanksgiving, we acquire the right kind of godly zeal, which befits the children of God.

Those who thank God never fall into despair and their heart is never empty of His consolation. This is illustrated by the example of a Christian man who once made a confession that he wanted to commit suicide because there was nothing but pain in his life. His spiritual father responded by asking him if there was anything good in his life, if, for instance, he was breathing and alive at that moment. His reply was positive, after which his spiritual father told him, ‘Start thanking God for the breath He gives you, for your physical life, and then for anything else God reveals that you have received as a gift from Him.’ The man started to thank God that he could breathe and that he was alive, and began to feel stronger within. Then he thanked God for knowing His Name, and that he received consolation from prayer in His Holy Name. Finally, his thanksgiving was so sincere and fervent, that he completely forgot about his despair and thoughts of suicide, and escaped this demonic temptation.

According to the teaching of the Holy Fathers, there is no greater virtue in the sight of God, than the giving of thanks while going through ill-health, persecution, injustice, or rejection. It pleases God when we are in pain and say, ‘Glory to Thee O God! I thank Thee, Lord, for all that Thou hast done for me.’ When guards were dragging Saint John Chrysostom into exile, sick, much afflicted, and maltreated, they passed by a church. The Saint asked them to let him stay for a while in front of the Holy Altar, on which he leaned and said to God, ‘Glory be to Thee, O Lord, for everything’, and at that moment he committed his holy soul into the hands of God. When our life is in danger, there is no attitude more pleasing to God than thanksgiving. If in that moment of pain, we cling to God with our mind and say to Him, ‘I thank Thee Lord, for everything. Neither death, nor any other sorrow can separate me from Thee, for Thou art He that doth overcome death’, then this proves that our faith has become stronger than the death which threatens us. This is a great feat in the sight of God which carries us over to the other shore. In other words, it leads us into a dynamic life, into the blessed communion of all the Saints, into an everlasting doxology and thanksgiving to God throughout all ages in His Kingdom.

The Divine Liturgy is a great means given to us of fighting the passion of despondency, so that we can overcome the spiritual death which preys upon our life. In the Liturgy we learn to do what the Apostle Paul describes in his Epistle to the Philippians, that is, first to offer up mighty thanksgiving to God, and then humbly, with shame because of our spiritual weakness, to make our petitions for all that we need of Him. 17 This is well pleasing to God, so He gives His grace, and gradually light and the feeling of His presence increases in the heart. This small light shines more and more until it breaks forth into a perfect day in our heart, 18 as the Prophet Solomon says, and Christ dwells in our heart by faith. 19

In the Divine Liturgy, we are taught to give perfect thanks to the almighty and beloved God in a manner worthy of Him. The Divine Liturgy is the Cross and the Resurrection at the same time, because the Body and the Blood of the Lord which we receive contain the same grace and the same blessing which His Body had after the Resurrection, when He ascended into heaven. The Divine Liturgy is the expression of our gratitude for the Passion, the Cross and the Resurrection of the Lord. This is why in the heart of the Liturgy we hear, ‘Take, eat; this is my Body.’ ‘This is the Body’, the Lord says, ‘which I offered, lifted up upon the Cross, led into the grave and raised up into the heavens resurrected; but I also left this Body on the earth on the night of the Last Supper so that you may partake in it and in all the grace which accompanies it, because in it dwells the fulness of Divinity.’ And then he continues, ‘Drink ye all of it; this is my Blood. The Blood which I shed on the Cross as a ransom for the sins, and for the salvation of the whole world.’ Therefore, when we repeat these words at every Liturgy, it is as if we are saying to Him, ‘To Thee, O Lord, is due all thanksgiving, all glory, every blessing, for Thou hast offered Thy Body and Thy Blood as nourishment for us so that we may be saved and live for all eternity.’ Of course, in heaven and on earth, there is no other matter or vision that occupies the souls of the Saints, than Christ’s saving sacrifice. The study of God’s indescribable love towards us strengthens the souls of the righteous to remain always in an everlasting doxology of joy, thanksgiving, and love worthy of God, Who is holy and good.

The Apostle Paul writes, ‘For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving.’ 20 Everything in our life is sanctified if we receive it with gratitude. When we offer thanksgiving to God, all things, every object and every creature, become a means of salvation for us. God’s words are, ‘Take, eat…, drink ye all of it; this is my Blood.’ The Divine Liturgy is founded on these words and then follows the prayer that God may come and fill everything with the Holy Spirit, just as He fulfilled these great and saving mysteries which remain forever. In response, at the end of the Liturgy we can chant a new and triumphal hymn, ‘We have seen the true Light. We have received the heavenly Spirit. We have found the true faith. We worship the undivided Trinity; for the same hath saved us.’ This is the ‘new song’ of the children of God, which they chant every day out of gratitude and love. 21 Such is the zeal and inspiration of Christians who have been born again through the Divine Liturgy.

In order for the children of God, who represent the Cherubim and Seraphim at the Divine Liturgy, not to ‘draw back’, 22 their thanksgiving must be replete and offered with ever increasing tension: ‘We thank Thee for all whereof we know and whereof we know not; for benefits both manifest and hid which Thou hast wrought upon us.’ 23 Of course, the things that God has done for us which we cannot see are greater in number, because the eyes of our soul are not open and enlightened. Yet we believe in what we are taught by the Church and in the prayer of the Divine Liturgy. This is why the Liturgy has such warmth; it is a flame of thanksgiving and gratitude. In the central hymn of the Divine Liturgy we chant, ‘We hymn Thee, we bless Thee, we give thanks unto Thee, O Lord, and we pray unto Thee, our God.’ Three verbs of thanksgiving and glory and one of entreaty are used here, because God the Saviour has already accomplished everything for us; He has given us all that we need for our soul to remain united with His Spirit, and for us to enter His never-ending blessedness. The only thing that is left is for our body to become incorrupt, and this He will grant us in the age to come, where we will be like the Angels of God in His Kingdom, as the Lord said to the Sadducees. 24

Despite all this, we must not forget that our participation in the abundance of life which the Lord offers us in the Liturgy, depends not only upon how much we have prepared in our ‘closet’ 25 the day before, but every day as well. Our whole life ought to be a single preparation to present ourselves worthily before God in His house, and to thank Him for what we owe Him with all our heart, and in a manner befitting Him. The Apostle Paul says that we are all members of the Body of Christ. 26 When we graft a wild olive it grows into a cultivated olive. The Church does the same through baptism; it grafts us onto the Body of Christ. In order for us, however, to be living members of the Body, each one must preserve the gift received from God. The Apostle Paul says that, ‘Every man hath his proper gift of God’. 27 Each member has his unique gift, which he must cultivate in order to continue as a living member of this Body. Our preparation before the Liturgy is our cultivation of the gift God gave us to become a Christian. One way of preparing is by praying on our own for a period of time before the Liturgy, and then going to Church with our heart full of warmth, faith, love, hope, in expectation of the Lord’s mercy, and full of spiritual dispositions. That is an offering we bring to God and the Church, a gift to the assembly of the brethren who have gathered together in the temple.

The gift that we cultivate when we are alone unites us with the Body of Christ. It leads us into the communion of all the other gifts of the members of Christ’s Body, the Saints in heaven, and also of His elect upon earth so that in truth we become rich. In monasteries, monks also have their daily prayer rule, which they do not consider to be a burden. On the contrary, it is an honour and privilege given to them to help them enter the communion of the grace of God, the communion of the gifts of the brethren who are their fellow strugglers.

Consequently, the more we cultivate our gift when we are alone, the more we shall be prepared when we come to church, to enter this blessed communion of gifts, the blessed communion of those who possess gifts, the blessed communion of the grace of God. For the grace of God stablishes the Church, who, like a mother, helps and inspires the faithful with her prayers and Liturgies, which create an upward impetus, while the Saints, who are the glorified members of the Body of Christ, pull them up with their prayers and intercessions. This is the meaning of the Church: a helpful push from below and a saving pull from above.

Those who offer a ‘sacrifice of love’ in their preparation for the Liturgy, come to the temple bearing gifts for God, which bring inspiration and impart joy, peace and grace to the other brethren. The greater and more attentive our preparation, the purer and stronger will our entry be into the family, that is, the communion of God. In one of the hymns of Theophany, it is written, ‘Where the King is present, there His army also goes.’ 28 That is to say, where Christ is, the King of heaven and earth, there are the orders of the heavenly spirits: His All Holy Mother, the Saints, the Archangels and Angels, and also all the Christians who have received the gift of the Holy Spirit and struggle for their perfection in all the places of His dominion.

By contrast, when we go to the Divine Liturgy without having prepared, we are not being fair to God and our brethren, because we do not have any gifts in our heart to offer God and with which to enter into this marvellous communion with the other members who do come bearing gifts.

Depending on how much they have prepared for the service, those who come to church maintain the warmth of their heart, so that they bear gifts for God and their brethren. We do not mean simply material gifts, like the goats and lambs which the Hebrews brought to God as offerings. Now they bring their heart, full of the warmth of faith, full of the light of God’s word from constant study of the Gospel, and full of the strength which the mystery of God produces in their soul. The hope and expectation they bear within, incites the faithful to exclaim and say to God, ‘Thine own, of Thine own, we offer unto Thee in all and for all’. 29 In other words, these things that are Yours, from the things You have given, when You provided everything we need to live and to be saved, we offer them to You, according to the commandment You have given us. And He receives their gifts, bread and wine, things which are insignificant but which become precious, because the congregation have placed in them all their faith, repentance, love, hope, their expectation in the Holy of Holies, and finally their whole life and humility. The Lord then accepts them, blesses them, and transforms them into His Body and Blood. That is, He also adds to them all the power and grace which were in His Body after the Resurrection and gives them back to us saying, ‘The holy things unto the holy.’ 30 This is the voice of God to His people. If the faithful have placed all their life in the gifts, they will succeed in exchanging them. In return they will receive all God’s life, all His grace, all His blessing, in short, the fulness of salvation.

In order for the door of the grace of God to open again, first of all we must thank Him ‘unto the end’ for all that He has given us until now. In this, we take heed to the words of the Lord, ‘If ye have not been faithful in that which is another man’s, who shall give you that which is your own?’ 31 In other words, man cannot receive a greater fulness of God’s grace if he has not first responded with a gratitude befitting God for all the changes of ‘the right hand of the most High’ in his life up to the present. 32

Thanksgiving, therefore, is the zeal which the children of God ought to possess. It is so pleasing to God, that the great Apostle Paul urges us first to give thanks to God for everything and only then to present our petitions to the Lord, ‘Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God,’ 33 and ‘In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.’ 34

In such a blessed communion of grace, we find true and dynamic divine inspiration which allows no rest on earth, but goes from faith to more perfect faith; from hope to confidence in the Living Jesus Who raises even the dead; from love to a greater fulness of love; and from a single light to the perfect day of His Kingdom that knows no eventide, wherein we will find the eternal rest of our souls with ‘all His Saints’ 35 and the ‘spirits of just men made perfect’. 36

Footnotes: 1 Rom. 8: 7. 2 Jas. 4: 4. 3 1 Cor. 15: 32. 4 Cf. Matt. 6: 21 5 1 Thess. 4: 13. 6 John 17: 3. 7 Eps. 3: 12. 8 Cf. Job 7: 17-18. 9 Rom. 8: 32. 10 Eph. 1: 4. 11 Saint Maximus the Confessor, ‘Various Texts on Theology, the Divine Economy, and Virtue and Vice’ in The Philokalia, trans. and ed. G. E. H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, Kallistos Ware (London & Boston: Faber & Faber, 1995), Vol. 2, 3: 29, p. 216. 12 See Prayer of the Great Blessing of the Waters, ‘Thou hast poured forth the air that living things may breathe’. 13 Luke 17: 10. 14 Cf. 2 Cor. 7: 1. 15 See 1 Cor. 2: 12. 16 Cf. Prov. 3: 34 (LXX); Jas. 4: 6; 1 Pet. 5: 5. 17 Phil. 4: 6. 18 Cf. Prov. 4: 18. 19 Eph. 3: 17. 20 1 Tim. 4: 4-5. 21 Ps. 33: 3. 22 Heb. 10: 39. 23 Anaphora, Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom and Saint Basil. 24 Matt. 22: 30. 25 Matt. 6: 6. 26 1 Cor. 12: 27. 27 1 Cor. 7: 7. 28 Lity of Theophany. 29

The Cross and God’s Revelation of Its Meaning – Victory Of The Cross By Father Dumitru Stăniloae

This is a 2nd extract from a powerful booklet entitled ‘The Victory Of The Cross’ written by the well known 20th century Romanian Orthodox priest and scholar Father Dumitru Stăniloae. You can find the 1st extract from his booklet here.

Then Job answered the Lord and said: I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withheld from thee … I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not … I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Job 42: 1-3; 5-6

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me, to whom I said: Saw ye him whom my soul loveth? It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother’s house and into the chamber of her who conceived me. (Song of Songs 3: 1- 4)

The Cross as the Mystery of Love

In the case of Job we do not have this picture of a love for God which continues even to death, but we feel that this love could have been there unalterable to the end in Job. All the same, in the beginning Job did not understand the reason for his sufferings which in the end were to be a proof of his love for God. It is Christ who first saw the supreme and absolute value of the cross as a proof of love both of God and of men, love of a worth beyond all else. None the less, Job is the type of Christ, and his second and greater fortune is a type or symbol of the resurrection which the just man who accepts death from God will receive in the end.

Love which does not go so far as the love of Job went or, more clearly, as far as the love of Jesus Christ, is not true love but only conditional, a love conditional on things, that is to say a love of oneself and not a true love of others. It does not reveal the true, infinitely greater worth of persons than of any other created things or the eternal basis of their worth in the personal reality of God. In true love a man should transcend himself, go beyond himself, and the supreme act of this transcendence is fulfilled in love for God, who is the Transcendent One.

It is is doubtless true and right that persons reveal their love for one another by their gifts, and this is also true in God’s relationship with men. In this sense we cannot think of the cross without the world as God’s gift. But on the other side we cannot think of the world without the cross. The cross makes this world transparent for God. The cross shows that the world is God’s gift, and as such is a lower and lesser reality than God himself. The cross is the sign of God as a person who is above all his gifts. But it is also the sign of a perfect relationship between God and man. In this sense the cross is specially the sign of the Son of Man in whom this relationship has been perfectly realised. The cross is the sign of the Son of God become man, the sign which he prints on the world by his solidarity with the world.

Without the cross man would be in danger of considering this world as the ultimate reality. Without the cross he would no longer see the world as God’s gift. Without the cross the Son of God incarnate would have simply confirmed the image of the world as it is now as the final reality, and strictly speaking he could have been neither God nor God incarnate. The cross completes the fragmentary meaning of this world which has meaning when it is seen as a gift which has its value, but only a relative and not an absolute value. The cross reveals the destiny of the world as it is drawn towards its transfiguration in God by Christ. For this reason at the end of this stage of the world this sign, ‘the sign of the Son of Man’, will be revealed in the heavens above all the world, as a light, as a meaning, as a destiny which illumines the whole history of man (Matt. 24: 30).

In this way the cross prophetically points to the eschatological, the final destiny of the world. For this reason we associate the sign of the cross with the Holy Trinity, with the Kingdom of God. This is the reason why in the Orthodox Liturgy the cross is printed on the loaf which is used in the Eucharist, bread being at once the sign of God’s gift and of man’s work, the existential expression of the whole of man’s life in this world offered to God. With this sign of the cross the Church blesses, and before all their actions Christians make the sign of the cross in order to dedicate them to God. With this sign the priest blesses the water of Baptism, and also the holy water with which he sprinkles the house, the fields and the whole world in which the Christian lives and works—all is covered with the sign of the cross.

The world has value only in so far as through it we see and receive the revelations and the energies of the person of God who in himself, in his essence, cannot be described, but whose energies are already at work in all creation and will be fully revealed in the transfigured world of the age to come. Until the last day God is at work in this world, leading it towards its resurrection, above all by means of the cross.

Surrender Ourselves To God’s Grace – Archimandrite Aimilianos

In our class Sunday we discussed distractions and how difficult it can be to remain focused during these longer, more intense services we experience during Lent. I thought this article was full of wisdom and pragmatic guidance that might be useful to us as we approach the mid-point of the Fast which occurs next Wednesday. The focus of the article is on the Divine Liturgy. It’s an excerpt from the outstanding book ’The Way of the Spirit’ by Archimandrite Aimilianos. It’s a useful next step as we get in touch with our sense of exile that he described in this earlier article . It’s also a good followup to the article we read about ’finding our true selves in Christ’.

Chapter 2 – On The State That Jesus Confers

My beloved children, how marvelous was today’s Gospel lesson! It’s one we’ve heard many times and experience continuously, especially during the celebration of the Divine Liturgy. As we journey through the desert of life, it is only natural that our thirst should draw us to the Liturgy, because the Divine Liturgy is a sumptuous table set in the open air, such as that which the Lord has spread before us today.

What did we hear in the Gospel? Jesus gathered the people together. Why? Because the Apostles told Him they have nothing to eat (cf. Mk 6.36; Mt 14.15). Thousands of people, who had come from every town to see Jesus (Mk 6.33), would have gone hungry, and so the Lord had them sit down in groups on the ground (Mk 6.40), in order to satisfy their souls. They had gone forth into the wilderness to see Jesus, and He gathered them all together (cf. Mk 6.35; Mt 14.15).

The Divine Liturgy, my beloved, is precisely this going forth; it is a movement from one place to another, which we enact continuously. It is also a sitting down in the open in order to eat. It is, first of all, a kind of exodus. But from where? The people mentioned in the Gospel went forth from their towns and villages (Mk 6.33; Mt 14.13), but we come forth from ourselves, as well as from the places in which we live. We leave one kind of place, and come to another, which is different from the one we left. And who among us, upon entering a church, does not sense that there is something special here? Who does not know that to come here means to leave all else behind? And this can be seen by the fact that, if an inappropriate thought enters our mind while we’re here, we immediately want to dismiss it. And even if we’re unable to, we recognize it as something foreign, something that has intruded into the space of our soul, something that has slipped past our guard and entered into us.

We enter the church, then, when we go forth from ourselves in power, in substance, and in truth, leaving behind all our sins, our inclinations, and our aspirations. To enter the church means to leave outside all those things that make up our life in the world. That which exists is God (cf. Ex 3.14), but that which is ours, and which alone belongs to us, is our sin, our self will, and our desire. Apart from God, the self is something non-existent, even though it is, and remains, the creation of His hands, the breath of His first blessing (cf. Gen 2.7).

When we enter the church, we leave behind, not simply the things we see, but even the things for which we hope, because the latter in particular occupy a central place in our lives. Even though the things we hope for are not currently in our hands, we live as if they already were, feeling them intensely, as if we could run our fingers through them, lay hold of them, and possess them. In general, the intensity of our feelings about such things assumes the character of an actual experience, and we must leave that behind, along with all that we see. 2

And what we “see” is everything we encounter in the course of the day: things seen by the eyes of the body as well as those of the soul—which are much more perceptive. The things we “see” are all the things we experience, which stir us up, unsettle us, occupy our minds, give us pleasure, and lift our spirits. When our eyes fall upon them, they elevate us, but only to a place within the visible world: never beyond it.

In leaving behind everything we see, we come forth from that which constitutes our place of exile. This is the new exodus undertaken by the children of God every time they assemble and unite themselves to Christ in the sacred space of the church.

Having left everything behind, where do we find ourselves? In the open air, as befits people close to God (Wis 16.9; cf. Lk 21.31). 3

Why do I say in the open air? Because, looking around the church, we feel that we’re standing in heaven, and heaven cannot be considered a closed space. 4 And this is why Christ chose the desert as a place for prayer: precisely because its endless expanses and tremendous openness symbolize heaven itself. The desert, moreover, stands in contrast to the world: it contains no worldly pleasure, it gives you no earthly delight, and it offers you no fleshly repose. Heaven is something like that.

It follows, then, that no one can live in the desert if he’s still seeking to satisfy his own desires, if he is still anxious to realize his own hopes. You ask God to satisfy your desires, and, when He doesn’t, you think He’s turning a deaf ear. You ask God to realize your hopes, and to your dismay they remain elusive. You ask God to deepen your religious feelings, only to discover that He keeps Himself at a distance. Why? Because in reality those things are only about you, and not God, and thus they constitute the closed space in which you are confined; they are the place out of which God wants to lead you. Now, however, we find ourselves in the open air like that crowd of thousands, people close to God, close to the Lord. As for me, I’m blind, but I’m here too. I’m paralyzed, but nevertheless I’m here. I have no wings, I’m confined to the earth, but I’m here too, close to God.

What does it mean to be close to God? Think for a moment: can you be close to an icon and not be moved to venerate it? Can you be close to a fire and not be warmed? Can you be close to the light and not be illumined? Of course not. How, then, can you be close to God and not become godlike? How can you stretch out on God’s open spaces and not be raised up to the heights of His grandeur?

It follows, then, that after our exit from the world, we find ourselves close to God. We do not, however, find ourselves before the face of God (cf. Ex 33.11). Why? Because, for the most part, the eyes of our soul and body (which are both earthly) do not see God: they only seek Him. In the darkness broken by the brazen lamps, we seek Him, but we do not see Him. And that is the tragedy of human existence: we see everything except that which truly exists. All creation, which had a beginning and which will come to an end, falls under our gaze, which means we see things that, in reality, have no independent existence. 5 The tragic figure of man does not see that which alone truly exists: the One Who Is (cf. Ex 3.14), and Who is always with us.

That is what it means to be close to God. And when we enter into the open spaces of the church, we immediately experience a particular feeling, a feeling which confirms for us that here, in this place, our Helper is at hand. He is invisible, but you feel Him, as if He were rushing toward you, as if you could hear the sound of His breathing. He is your Helper, the One Who can deliver you, Who can redeem you, Who alone can satisfy your insatiable soul, which is forever being gnawed by hunger. You are close to God, and God is invisibly present. But, you may ask, where is He? Who can see Him?

If you wish to see God, my beloved children, there’s only one thing to do: go to church filled with longing to see His face, filled with divine and heavenly desire to be able, somehow, to feel the presence of your Helper and Defender. When you do this, your soul will experience an initially strange feeling: it is God touching your heart. And what will the heart do in response? Will it laugh and rejoice? No. It will be filled with a blessed, godly grief, and begin to weep and lament. In the presence of the Lord, you’ll feel your heart—which is like a useless sack—filling to the brim with the sense of its own emptiness and thereby overflowing with tears. And these tears will be its secret cry, saying:

“Where are You, Lord? Have mercy on me.” “Where are You, Lord?” That is the heart’s first cry. But it immediately realizes that it’s not able to see God, and that, if it did, it would lose its life (cf. Ex 33.20). Correcting its mistake, it continues: “Grant me Your mercy, You are my mercy, Yours is mercy, I am Yours, and You alone can have mercy upon me; You alone can bring me up from the pit of tribulation, from the depths of Your absence and my absence—Your absence from me, and mine from Your own spiritual life.”

When the soul begins to cry—and it cries to God, my beloved, very easily indeed, because God, in a sense, is the soul’s only surviving relative, and what could be more natural than that it should seek Him, and that it should cry when it realizes that it cannot see Him? When you allow your soul to cry, when you reject everything that cuts off the flow of your tears, then you’ll have a feeling of much greater intimacy with God. You’ll understand that now someone else governs your life. You’ll sense that now someone else has grasped the tiller, someone else has taken hold of the wheel (indeed of your own hands) and is now directly guiding you Himself. You become someone guided by the grace of God.

We are guided by God’s grace, to which you can surrender yourself in all confidence. Indeed, it is impossible for you to do the slightest thing without it. Consider the glory of the stars, the magnificence of the heavens, and the wonders of the earth: none of these can give you anything at all. The only thing that can fashion a new heart within you (cf. Ezek 11.19), rendering the old one utterly useless, is the power of God’s grace.