For Meditation: Farewell, O Holy and divine Altar

"Farewell, O Holy and divine altar of the Lord.  Henceforth I know not whether I shall return to Thee or not.  May the Lord make me worthy to see Thee in the Church of the Firstborn which is in heaven, and in this covenant do I trust.  Farewell, O holy and atoning altar.  May the Holy Body and the atoning Blood that I have received from Thee be for me the remission of debts and for the forgiveness of sins and for confidence before the awful judgment-seat of our Lord and our God, forever.  Farewell, O Holy Altar-Table of Life and entreat our Lord Jesus Christ that my remembrance may not cease from Thee henceforth and forever, world without end, Amen.

Priest's Private Prayer of Farewell to the Altar, Syrian Orthodox rite, qtd. in Bryan Spinks, Do This in Remembrance of Me, 158.

The Springtime of the Fast has come

“And when you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites.”  St. Matthew 6:16

When I was a junior in college, I spent my spring semester studying Greek and Byzantine history in Athens.  One of things about my time that I remember most vividly was the way that the Greeks celebrated this particular season, the days right around the beginning of Lent.  A time of feasting and celebration led up to the beginning of Lent, which comes on a Monday for the Orthodox.  I went to a costume ball, and spent two days in an island village where the natives dressed in goatskins and danced in the streets to celebrate the Carnival.  The wine flowed.  Meat was grilled out in the streets, as the butchers worked to empty their shops before the fast began. 

And then, on Clean Monday, as they call the first day of Lent there, everything changed.  The simple café where we took most of our meals switched over to Lenten fare: fish roe salad, bean soup and big blocks of sesame-seed cake.  On the afternoon of Clean Monday, in the big park by the ruins of the ancient temple of Olympian Zeus, the skies were filled with color.  The Greeks fly kites on the first day of Lent, kites of all shapes and colors, kites shaped like birds and flowers and dragons, some with streamers blazing. 

The beginning of Lent is a kind of celebration for them, because with its disciplines comes an opportunity for the renewal of the soul.  In Lent, one of my Greek friends told me, the fasting helps our souls rise up like the kites, we can soar, free from our sins.  An antiphon from the Orthodox liturgy of the week before Lent expresses the kind of joy in the fast that the kite flying shows so boldly:  “The springtime of the Fast has dawned,” it says, “the flower of repentance has begun to open.”[1]

For Meditation: God's love and our sin

From my morning reading, Hughson's "With Christ in God"

Man's reaction to his own sin is to flee from God in fear; God's reaction to man's sin is to draw near to man in love,  The more we sin, the more do we need His love, and the more generously is that love offered to us.  The vivid illustration of this is found in our Lord's first Word on the cross.  "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."  The verb said is given in a form which implies continued action: "He kept on saying."  As their blasphemies and mockings increased, He increased His cry that they might be forgiven.  He would not let their sin outdistance His love.  And so has He ever been.  So will He ever be.  (p. 33-34).

A Word of Mercy: Sermon for Easter II

“Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I send you." St. John 20:21

            “The doors were locked for fear,” Saint John tells us.  The disciples were huddling in the dark that first Easter evening, ducking and covering from all the drama that the spectacle at the empty tomb was likely to unleash.  It’s a rather odd postlude to the joyful news of Easter morning.  By sunset, there were no alleluias in sight.  An angel had proclaimed His resurrection. Christ had appeared to Mary Magdalene.  But the disciples didn’t really know what to make of it all.  Their initial excitement had deflated as they tried to come to terms with what the announcement might really mean for them.

 St. John remembered that they were frightened of the Jews, the religious authorities, who had a court and a police force of their own.  Jesus had seen the rough end of their justice a few days earlier, and once the news got out that there was no body in the tomb, they’d be out looking for someone to blame.  Tomb robbery was a serious crime, and though the disciples were innocent of it, the Sanhedrin didn’t seem to have much trouble rounding up false witnesses.  Announcing that the true Messiah had been raised by God, that the new creation had begun--that was even more dangerous, as some of them would find in a few weeks’ time.