The Rewards of Godliness

 

"Lord, teach me to be generous.

Teach me to serve you as you deserve,

To give and not to count the cost,

To fight and not to heed the wounds,

To toil and not to seek for rest,

To labor and not to ask for reward,

Save that of knowing that I am doing Your Will."

--St. Ignatius of Loyola, "Prayer for Generosity"

During the course of my schooling at a Jesuit school, I became well acquainted with the above prayer by St. Ignatius.  It is a prayer to dedicated to the Lord despite all the difficulties that come our way during this lifetime on earth.  "In the world you will have trouble," informed the Lord, and this is very true.  Christians will always experience friction with the aspects of the world that have not been fully enlightened by the light of Christ.  This is the basic theme of most of the prayer: Lord, teach me to serve You despite the difficulties the world will place on me.  One line has intrigued me, though: "To labor and not to ask for reward."

"I Exorcise You, Spirit Unclean"

 

"I call upon You, God, Pantokrator, Lord Jesus Christ, Heavenly King:

I call upon You, the maker of heaven and earth.

I exorcise you, spirit unclean, according to the word of God, the maker of heaven and earth.

Be put to flight by the one who wraps himself in light as a cloak:

the one who alone has immortality and light unapprochable:

to Whom be glory and power unto the ages.

Amen."

--St. Epiphanius of Salamis

What St. Epiphanius' short prayer was written to do is something which the world has needed since the Garden: the exorcism of demons.  While sin is, of course, the choice of man, the demons play their part in trying to bend us toward sin, to constantly bombard us with temptation (think of C.S. Lewis' fictionalized account of this in The Screwtape Letters).  But God does not leave us to their whims: we are not abandoned into the hands of the "worldrulers," as St. Paul calls them.  Indeed, He gives us the power of His Spirit to drive them away from us.

The Apostles of the Cross

"We though preach Christ crucified, to the Jews indeed a scandal, but to the Greeks folly..."--1 Cor 1:23

Christ is risen!  He Who was crucified for our sins has trampled death and risen again, and yet still the Cross is His sign.  By His Resurrection great power was given to the Cross, and it is for this that Constantine heard: "By this sign you will conquer."  And today we celebrate St. Constantine and his mother Helena, apostles of the Cross.

Illuminating Our Baptism

 A Maronite icon of the Theophany, when Christ sanctified the waters for our Baptism

"Going forth therefore make into disciples all the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to keep all that I have commanded you."--Mt 28:19-20a

Baptism is the door through which we enter the Church, the first Mystery every Christian experiences.  It is what marks one as a Christian.  To understand it, then, is key to understanding the Christian life in truth.  In Baptism, we are baptized into Christ's death and resurrection so that we die with Him and rise with Him so that we may life and rule with Him.  The effects are myriad, but the basic fact is this: "The power of Baptism is to be understood as a covenant with God for a second life and a purer lifestyle."  We enter into the Lord's New Covenant through our Baptism, and in this covenant He gives us innumerable graces and we give Him our lives, our souls and minds and bodies, our heart and strength, in their entirety.  We must always, then, keep in mind the fundamental importance of our Baptism and all the graces it was the doorway for, and so I hope these words for St. Gregory the Theologian will inspire us all to a deeper understanding of our Baptism, our Illumination.  "This is also an illumination, to know the power of the mystery."

On the Conspicuousness of Christians

I was recently instructed that, as a catechist, I should blend myself into my students, to make myself one of them, in order to make them accept me.  If I was too "different" or too blatant in my Catholicism, I would not be accepted.  Instead, I should work from within them, almost in an undercover way.  The thing is, it is difficult to be undercover when your students know you are teaching them the faith.  I can understand my professor's point: the members of the Church should integrate themselves into society so they can change it from within.  It is not an outside force that will bring change, but a force hidden within, such as hidden yeast leavens dough.  We are to be Trojan horses: we must sneak under their radar and then slowly purify their drinking water with the nectar of the faith.  The problem is this: I do not see this as an effective method.

I apologize if I am being proud: I am just giving my opinion on an issue that directly affects how I should live and teach.  If you have any ideas in this area, please tell me: perhaps your reasons will be more convincing to me than my professor's.

The main issue is that I find conspicuous Christians more the norm among the saints than yeast Christians.  I see more saints acting as armored knights than as wooden horses.  Think of the model of all Christians: Jesus Christ, the Son of God, risen from the dead.  He did not hide His faith: He drove the money-changers from the Temple, He performed miracles with countless witnesses, He preached day after day in the synagogues and the Temple (though His enemies were too cowardly to arrest Him then).  Some might say, "But He was God.  Surely God cannot hide Himself.  But we are only men!"  Have not men done the same, though?  Did not St. Paul rejoice over the countless sufferings he bore for preaching the Gospel openly?  He was even stoned to death in Derbe, yet He continued to preach.  Listen to the list of his troubles:

"Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one.  Three time I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned.  Three times I have been shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brethren; in toil and hardship, through  many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure" (2 Cor 11:24-27).

 Icon of St. Paul by Andrei Rublev

If he had merely kept his conversion secret and continued to act as the zealous Pharisee and pupil of Rabban Gamaliel that he was, or if he had remained an inconspicuous believer, would he have been put through so much suffering?  No!  But with all his suffering came conversions, countless, countless conversions.  If he were not so blatant in his faith, would he have converted so many?  I cannot say for sure, but I would assume not.

Think of the rest of the apostles as well: all except John the Theologian were martyred for their faith, even the thrice-denying one, Pope St. Peter.  "But they were apostles, personal friends of Christ!" some may respond.  Then recall all the countless martyrs of the early Church, such as the ones remembered in the Roman Canon:

"Ignatius, Alexander, Marcellinus, Peter, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia."

Yet some might say, "those were still in the early Church.  Times changed, and so did our way of living the faith."  Does a change in culture mean we hide our faith?  By no means!  In extreme circumstances, some may be called to live underground in order to retain the faith from oppressive governments, but in general, we must not hide our faith: we should rather boast in the Lord!  The Church's record of conspicuous martyrs also does not end with the end of the Apostolic Age: martyrs have continued for centuries and centuries, and not only martyrs to the death, but martyrs to reputation, comfort, and fame.  Even in the past century, we have had Servant of God Óscar Romero, Bl. Jerzy Popiełuszko, Bl. Miguel Pro, and St. Maria Goretti.

 Servant of God Óscar Romero; Blessed Jerzy Popiełuszko

What about those who were not martyrs, but still lived their faith in the sight of all?  There are many: the mendicant orders of St. Dominic and St. Francis, pontiffs such as Leo XIII, Pope St. Pius X, and Servant of God Pope Paul VI (called a "white martyr" for the vicious response to his defense of sexual morality, Humanae Vitae), and workers with the poor such as Servant of God Dorothy Day and Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta.  Among the Russians, there is even a group called the yurodivuie, "fools for Christ's sake," such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Benedict Joseph Labré, and St. Simeon the Holy Fool (St. Simeon Salos).  If the saints are any indication, Christians have never been known for their inconspicuousness.

That leads us back to the practical question: should we lived as conspicuous Christians or not?  In this way we would live not only in imitation of our Saviour Jesus Christ and His holy apostles, but in imitation of countless saints through the millennia.  Though our actions may seem foolish to the world, they are glorious to Christ, such as St. Isidore of Pelusium (St. Isidore Pelousiotes) wrote,

"Imitate the simple garments of Christ.  For if the roughness in apparel here on earth is foolishness, wearing the garment of light in heaven is certainly not" (Epistle 74).

We should not be afraid even if we must suffer for our conspicuousness.  As St. Gregory the Theologian exhorts,

"Teach in the temple, drive out the traders in divine things, be stoned if it is necessary you suffer this" (Oration 38.18).

St. Gregory the Theologian

Some may say that in doing this, in acting conspicuous, we are driving away those who would be converted by us.  We are showing the "radical" side of Christianity, which only a few are called to.  It is true that only some are called to the extent of martyrdom, but all are called to preach with their lives, if not also with their words.  Origen even says that it is better to preach with words we don't fully believe than to hide the faith in our hearts (vid. Exhortation to Martyrdom V).

In the end, is our faith one of private devotion, to be gently shared among others as a slowly creeping moss?  No!  Though some are called mainly to work, with direct preaching being rare, all are called to live openly and boldly for Christ.  As the axiom often mis-attributed to St. Francis of Assisi states, "Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words."  I believe I am called to be a catechist, though: I am called to be an example of the faith lived out for students to see.  When they see me, should they see a man who is only Christian in his intellect?  Should they not be able to tell if I'm a Buddhist well-trained in Catholic doctrine or a practicing Catholic?  Should they see me as no more than a neutral, politically correct textbook in human form?  By no means!

I will not hide my faith under a bushel basket.  When I teach, and even in general when I live, I will wear my faith on my sleeve (literally, in a sense, with my komboskini).  I will not hide my faith and water down my Christian life in order to appeal to the masses.  Should I dilute my Catholicism in order to convert others?  Then what am I converting them to but a crippled version of the faith, a version crippled by my "politically correct" witness?  Like the saints, who converted millions in their Christian zeal, I, too, will strive to live my faith as openly and zealously as possible in the hopes of converting my students.  The fight for conversion is a war, a war "not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" (Eph 6:12).  It is a war of the City of God against the City of Man, as in St. Augustine's De Civitate Dei, a war of the culture of life against the culture of death, as in Pope Bl. John Paul II's Evangelium Vitae.  Some may be called to hide themselves amongst the enemy troops in hopes of gaining conversions, but I will be a warrior against the enemy, as the countless saints before me have been.  I will be a conspicuous Christian.  And if I suffer for my convictions, for my true living of the faith, then praise God!  (How I hope I can keep that sentiment when the day of suffering comes!)  Then I just fulfill the dictum of St. John Climacus:

"War against us is proof we are making war" (Ladder, Step IV).

I am sorry for my rampant pride through this post.  I merely wish to express my convictions on this matter.  Please listen to my message, though it may be clothed in the words of pride.  May each of those moments of pride merely reinforce the fact that I am a sinner in need of mercy.  God Bless.

 St. Simeon Salos, pray for us!

Nota Bene: Information from this post comes from Wikipedia (Text and rubrics of the Roman Canon, Foolishness for Christ, and above-sourced articles).  Sergius Bolshakoff's Russian Mystics also gave me information on yurodivuie.  The quote from St. Isidore Pelousiotes is from Nicodemus the Hagiorite's A Handbook of Spiritual Counsel, Chapter VIII, translated by Peter A. Chambers.  The quote from St. Gregory the Theologian comes from Sr. Nonna Verna Harrison's translation of his Festal Orations.  The quote from St. John Climacus comes from his Ladder of Divine Ascent, translated by Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell.

 

Text ©2012 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.

 

A Theologian's Renunciation

Though I hesitate to take on the title, by my studies, I think I must be classed as a theologian.  Yet with the trends popular among many who bear the title "theologian," I sometimes recoil at the very name itself.  I have thought about these positions and ideas that many theologians hold dear to their hearts (or dear to their intellects).  It is with a strong heart, a sound mind, and a firm will that I renounce these opinions.  I declare:

1. I renounce renouncing the Father.  Though, it is true, God is beyond gender, the First Person of the Trinity revealed Himself under the title of Father: who are we to renounce that title?
2. I renounce renouncing the Son.  Jesus Christ is the Son of God, one divine Person in two natures, human and divine.  The Councils stated it, and I confess it: anything else is heresy.
3. I renounce the Spirit's domination.  The Holy Spirit is God, the Third Person of the Most Holy Trinity: this I affirm.  The Father and the Son being subordinated to the Spirit: this I deny.
4. I renounce the Blessed Mother's divinity.  O Theotokos, you are all-pure and ever-virgin, the Mother of God, but you are not a part of the Divine Godhead, and I cannot imagine the pain you must feel when your humanity is rejected and the Trinity is maligned.
5. I renounce the empty chair.  The See of Peter has not been vacated: Pope Benedict XVI is no hologram.  The Church has a vicar, and he is a German.
6. I renounce the "symbolic" resurrection.  If I affirm the Pope is no hologram, I also affirm that neither was Christ on Easter Sunday, and neither will we be at the end of time.
7. I renounce the Godhead's passing.  "God is dead."--Nietzsche.  "Nietzsche is dead."--God.  "We must kill God."--certain theologians.  "Did you see what happened to Nietzsche?"--God.
8. I renounce the Spirit's failure.  If the Church was leading Christians astray for 1500 years, the Spirit was pretty incompetent for sending Luther so late.
9. I renounce the class in Biblical Lit.  It's the Word of God, not the word of Ovid: it's the Truth, not a myth: it's inerrant, not aberrant.
10. I renounce a God without mystery.  If St. Thomas Aquinas thought his Summa was straw, how can my little work plumb all the depths?
11. I renounce the motto sola ratio.  It's "faith seeking understanding," not "faith equaling understanding."
12. I renounce "my truth, my choice."  Sorry to break your bubble, but there's only one Truth: you can reject, but you sure can't change it.

I see all these ideas throughout theology today.  The more I read, the more it seems to me that there's a secret creed of untruthful statements that one solemnly vows when one declares, "I am a theologian."
If Aristotle said, "Dear is Plato, dearer still is truth," I say, "Dear is theology, dearer still is truth," and if this is theology, then I renounce it.
If however, being a theologian is more than this: if it is really about truth--not just truth, but the Truth--if it is about the true Triune God, if it is about the Son of God, made incarnate of the Theotokos, Who suffered and died and rose again and left His Church to continue His work...if that is theology, then I embrace it, renouncing the lie that stands in its place.  And I believe that this is the case: so now I can declare, as a son of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church:

I am a theologian.

"Choose then whichever blasphemy you prefer, my good inventor of a new theology, if indeed you are anxious at all costs to embrace a blasphemy...We at any rate will hold fast to the Trinity, and by the Trinity may we be saved, remaining pure and without offence, until the more perfect shewing forth of that which we desire, in Him, Christ our Lord, to Whom be the glory for ever. Amen."--St. Gregory the Theologian

St. Thomas Aquinas, patron saint of theologians, pray for us!

Nota Bene: If I unwittingly fell into theological error in this post, I humbly and sincerely apologize: please inform me so I can correct it and renounce my own error.  If there are any major current theological errors I left out, please inform me, and I will add them.  The quote from St. Gregory the Theologian (a.k.a. St. Gregory of Nazianzus or St. Gregory Nazianzen) comes from Oration 29.10,21, found in the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Volume 7, edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, found in The Faith Database.

 

Text ©2012 Brandon P. Otto.  Licensed via CC BY-NC.  Feel free to redistribute non-commercially, as long as credit is given to the author.