Liturgically Engaged

There's no denying that within the Catholic Church as a whole (and even within some Orthodox Churches) there is a widespread dissatisfaction with the state of the liturgy, particularly the Eucharistic Liturgy (a.k.a. the Mass/Divine Liturgy/Qurbono). In some cases this dissatisfaction, I find, may be ill-founded. Caught up in the trappings of the Liturgy many people complain about choirs that simply can't carry a tune in a bucket, priests whose homilies aren't "good enough" (usually meaning the priest doesn't talk about what they want him to talk about or what they think he ought to talk about), lack of real participation and reverence, etc. Many Roman Catholics see these problems and point to the reforms of Pope Paul VI as the root cause.

In other cases the general dissatisfaction has been based on more legitimate concerns. With the advent of a more widespread use of the vernacular languages in the West we have run into the problem of translation. There is no doubt that there have been a plethora of poor translations of any liturgical Rite. Problems have stemmed from ridiculous paraphrases that are more of the translator's interpretation of the text than an actual translation. We also have been plagued with such silliness as "politically correct" translations and even gender neutral translations. The Romans, Ruthenians, Maronites, and even, to some degree, Ukrainians, Romanians, and Greeks here in the U.S. have had their fair share of struggles with translations.

Poor or banal music seems to be a plague unique to the Roman West, although the Maronites, still clinging to certain of their Latinizations, still have a tendency to borrow the worst of Western hymns for liturgical use (e.g. a couple of Sundays ago my local Maronite parish sang "Gift of Finest Wheat" as a Communion Hymn [insert gagging sound here]). But poorly and improperly trained choirs and cantors are no stranger in the Christian East as well.

But the biggest problem that I've found in our work towards liturgical renewal is not with translations, or banal hymnography, or poor homilies, or anything like that. The biggest problem that I've found is lack of participation, or lack of engagement. Let me explain what I mean and don't mean by this. I certainly don't mean a lack of participation in the sense that everyone comes to the Liturgy and sings all the hymns, says all their parts, performs all the actions assigned to them, etc. These things are certainly important, but in themselves they do not constitute full and active/actual participation. As with all prayer, the heart must be engaged. If the heart is not there, then we can perform the outer trappings of participation until we drop over from exhaustion and hyperventilation, but we are not actually participating.

What I mean by active participation is the "interiorization" of the prayers and movements of the Liturgy so that the Liturgy itself becomes fully our prayer. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger mentions this in his wonderful short book entitled Feast of Faith. The prayer of the Church must become our prayer. We learn prayer from our Mother, the Church. By learning to pray from Her eventually Her words become our words, and Her actions our actions. This is how we enter into the offering of the Church, which is the Body of Christ and hence the offering of Christ Himself to the Father through the power of the Holy Spirit.

In a retreat given to Ukrainian Catholic seminarians in Washington, D.C., Fr. Robert Taft, S.J. makes a very practical suggestion that I believe could be of benefit to all of us. In order to interiorize the prayer of the Liturgy, we need to perform a Lectio Divina of the Liturgy as a whole, particularly the Eucharistic Liturgy. Lectio Divina as a slow, meditative, and prayerful reading of a spiritual text: i.e. the Scriptures, the writings of the Fathers and Saints, or the Liturgy. This prayerful reading is meant to draw us into the heart of the text and ultimately into contemplation, loving communion with the Trinity.

There is actually a systematic form of Lectio Divina. Perhaps it would be best not to describe it as "systematic" so much as a tried-and-true method that has been passed down through the ages. According to the classic text on Lectio Divina, the Ladder of Monks by Guigo II, there are four stages to Lectio: reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation. The first two steps occur almost simultaneously. One reads the text slowly, noticing key words such as action words (verbs) and descriptive words (adjectives), and also taking note of scenes and sayings. From this reading we are left with questions. What does x word mean here? Why would they use that word instead of another? How has that word been used throughout the history and tradition of my particular Church and the universal Church as a whole? Obviously this second "step," meditation, requires a little bit of study. Now, one does not have to get a doctorate in biblical, spiritual, and/or liturgical theology in order to move on from this step of Lectio. We must maintain a spirit of ongoing meditation, education, questioning, searching, seeking answers. Today we have so many resources at our fingertips that there really is no excuse for us not to fully engage meditation on our liturgical and Scriptural texts. There is so much material available for free on the internet that to ignore such a vast resource is plain ridiculous.

Lest our Lectio of the liturgical texts become too cognitive, we must remember that from meditation we have to move on to prayer. Prayer here can take two forms: our private prayer at home, and our actual participation in the liturgical prayer of the Church. In our private prayer at home we take our questions to God, we thank Him for illuminating the texts of the Liturgy for us in a whole new way, we ask that he deepen our understanding (and hence our participation) in the liturgical reality that is played out before us with the celebration of every single Sacrament, and we praise Him for His great plan of salvation that is laid out before us and that we enter into through the liturgical life of the Church. Then it's time for us to actually go to Church in order to enter into that life!

The last step of our Lectio is contemplation. This is a step that cannot be forced, but is a sheer gift of grace. We must simply predispose ourselves to receive this gift, and then wait for it to be given. God draws us up into His inner life. Through the liturgy He allows us glimpses of what is to come. Now, I'm no saint, and I'm certainly not an expert in Lectio or contemplation, but I do know what it's like to be drawn into contemplation because of one word or one action that jumps out at you during the Liturgy. I've been reduced to tears simply because of a word or phrase at the Liturgy. All else disappeared and I lost track of what was happening simply because God allowed this flood of light to fill my soul. It doesn't happen often to me, but it has happened. It's happened to me at the Roman Mass (even prior to the new revised translation), it's happened to me at Byzantine Divine Liturgies (Ruthenian, Ukrainian, and Melkite), it's happened to me at the Maronite Qurbono, and it's happened to me simply by paying attention to the prayers said or sung at the celebration of the Sacraments. I wept at my wedding because of the sheer power of the words being prayed. I've wept at my childrens' initiation into the Church. I've wept simply by listening to the words of the Anaphora/Canon of the Eucharist. These prayers, whether they are traditional, slightly revised, or even newly written, are filled with a great beauty that comes from 2000 years of the Church living the Gospel message of salvation. We ought to listen carefully. The Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom repeats a call to action that would behoove us to remember: "Wisdom! Be attentive!." Are you paying attention? Are you listening? Are you engaged? Once you are you will certainly be consumed by heaven!

Are You Involved

Hello All,

So I realize it's been quite some time since I've posted anything. I apologize for that. I've been very busy with work and family issues. But I hope to start posting regularly again. My goal is to have a new post every week. If you all like what you read, please send me an email or upload comments on the posts here. Any words of encouragement and/or suggestions for future posts are always welcome.

Lately I've been listening to lectures and reading books by Dave Ramsey. The man is known as a financial genius and is famous for having helped thousands of Americans swear off debt forever. Obviously I have a good deal of debt thanks to student loans (studying theology at a small Catholic university is not cheap). Financial management has never been one of my strong points, but I've come to realize that as a husband and father I have to be more involved in how my household is managed. My family is not mine. They have been entrusted to me by God to care for, and it is my obligation to care for them in the best way possible, spiritually, financially, physically, etc. It has taken me nearly six years (my wedding anniversary is June 30th) to realize and accept this fact, but I'm going to embrace it with gusto because it is my vocation and, hence, is intimately linked to my own salvation.

But I'm not writing this post to talk about that. Perhaps I could post more on that later on. For now I wanted to comment on a remark I heard Mr. Ramsey make in one of his lectures. "Do you ever get mad at your church?" he asks. "If you don't, you're not involved." The remark comes across as very funny, but it really got me thinking. I grew up in a very Catholic community. The Greater Cincinnati area is heavily populated with the descendants of German and Irish immigrants. The majority of the community was, at one point, German and Irish Catholic. Sure there are plenty of Lutheran, Baptist, Methodist, and other ecclesial communions; but at one point the predominant population was Catholic.

Since it was such a strong Catholic community, you can easily find people here who care deeply about the Faith. I remember growing up with people who were very discontent with the direction the Catholic Church (and Christianity in general) was headed. It seems that we stray further and further from our traditions. The music is mediocre at best, and flat out horrible at worst; liturgies are poorly celebrated and the people who attend look like well dressed zombies who seem to experience the resurrection as soon as the priest proclaims "The Mass is ended...;" bishops and priests back agendas that are totally contrary to the teachings of the Catholic Church; etc., etc., etc. We've all experienced this. Whether we are Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant anyone who gives two shakes about their Church or parish has some negative experience with it.

For some such negativity is enough to drive them away from one Church or parish and into another. For others it is enough to put out the fires of faith completely and turn them into apathetic agnostics. For others it enkindles the fires of hatred for God and His Church. But what can we do? In the face of such hardships that we suffer in the Church, what is our role? We are not priests. We are not bishops. We are not monks or nuns. We're simply lay-folk.

The reality is that the care of the Church hasn't been entrusted to the clergy alone. We are all "stewards of the mysteries" as Bishop Nicholas Samra points out. We have all been entrusted with the Faith and traditions of our Church. It does us and no one else any good to sit around and bemoan the state of the Church. We have to get more deeply involved. We have to practice stewardship. We have to care for that which has been entrusted to us.

What does this mean in practical terms? How do we get involved? What can we do to support our bishops and priests in furthering the Faith and spreading the Gospel message of Christ?

First and foremost we must pray. We must intercede for our bishops and priests, our monks and nuns, and for one another. Without this spiritual support any other effort will simply fail. This does not mean that we focus on this intercessory prayer to the exclusion of any other form of prayer. Nor does it mean that we focus on prayer itself to the exclusion of any other work. Rather, all of our efforts and actions must begin with prayer and end with prayer. All our efforts and actions must quite literally be prayer. Perhaps part of the reason our Church is in the state it's in today is because our leaders have proceeded with actions in an unprayerful way. Perhaps we as a people have forgotten how to pray and how to be living prayers.

We must also know our Faith. This knowledge need not be a purely intellectual knowledge, but some study is required. Knowledge of basic truths and facts of the Faith is required. You wouldn't marry somebody without a basic factual knowledge of fundamental aspects of who they are. Nor would you encourage a friend to marry someone you'd never met personally. How can we uphold and promote our Faith if we don't know it? How can we cry out for properly celebrated liturgies if we have no understanding of what constitutes good liturgy? How can we call for a return to Tradition when we have no concept of Tradition? How can we demand the Church live by the "spirit of Vatican II" if we have no idea what Vatican II promoted, and we have no idea how Vatican II fits into the 2000 year old Tradition of the Church?

Eastern Catholics ought to ask themselves these same questions. What does it mean to be Eastern Catholic? How can we remain faithful to our Eastern traditions while at the same time being in communion with Rome. Is there a distinction between the traditions of local particular churches (including the Roman Church) and the Universal Church? If so, can we restore our identities as Eastern Christians without belittling the traditions and identity of the Christian West? How does our Eastern identity fit into the life of the Church at a Universal level? And how can we, as Easterners, evangelize the culture around us, even if that culture is a Western culture?

Get involved. Be engaged. Pray. Ask questions. Seek answers, but always seek them in a prayerful manner. Educate others after you have become educated. But do all in love, do all in a spirit of prayer, not in a spirit of anger. Never allow anger, discouragement, and disappointment have the last word.

So many Christians, be they Catholic, Orthodox or Protestant, shout out in anger at the injustices going on in the Church. The see Christians behaving in unChristian ways. They see Church leaders acting not as Christ, but almost as anti-Christs. They see the Church slipping further and further down the slippery slopes of "relevance" and "political correctness." They see all these things going on and they shake their fists in anger. But anger gets us nowhere. The great spiritual Fathers and Mothers of the East feared anger more than any other sin. They admitted that there is such a thing as just anger, but anger in any form can be so dangerous and difficult to control that they said it was better not even to indulge justifiable anger.

I have some friends, and I've seen a good handful of "Catholic commentators" who seem to have nothing but negative things to say about the state of the Church these days. Anger can get one fired up to do the right thing; to be the change that we want to see in the Church. But if we allow anger to consume us, if the injustices and our own anger become our focus, two things will happen. First we will become completely consumed with our anger to the point that it drives us out of the Church, or at least alienates us from the Church if we don't actually leave. Secondly such negativity simply becomes annoying and drives folks away from us, leaving them with a feeling of hopelessness and leaving us again with a sense of alienation - "Why doesn't anyone care as much about this as I do?" becomes our attitude.

Psychologists have told us that for every negative interaction with our children or our spouse there needs to be a good number of positive interactions, otherwise our relationships fall apart. Do you think the Church is any different? Do you think our bishops and priests are any different? If we only have bad things to say about our priests, our bishops, and our Church do you think that those same folks are going to want to be anywhere near us? Or do you think we are going to actually be able to bring new people into the Church?

In one of his books, Dave Ramsey points out that a good manager manages a staff not by putting out fires, but by encouragement. Recognize a job well-done. Encourage someone when they are doing something right. Always have a compliment on hand. If you are going to correct behavior, make sure that you are also affirming a few good things that a person is doing. As stewards/managers of the mysteries this is a responsibility that we, as lay-folk, have towards our priests and bishops. If we are going to approach them about something, we need to first be grateful for the amount of work that they do for our Church. We need to recognize where they have been successful. And then present them with our problems. Remember, they are people too. Imagine if your child only ever spoke with you to tell you how bad of a parent you are. Imagine if they never thanked you for putting a roof over their head, food in their belly, and clothes on their back. Imagine if they did nothing but complain to you. Eventually you're just going to ignore that child because you just can't handle the negativity. It's also going to make you feel like the worst parent in the world. Why do we think our bishops and priests are any different? They need encouragement just like the rest of us. They need a pat on the back for a job well done just like the rest of us.

If you want to be involved, if you want to be the change that you want to see in the Church, don't just stand in the center of your church and shout "repent! repent!" and then point out every little thing that every person in the parish or the Church at large needs to repent of. To repent means to change one's ways, one's mind, one's way of seeing and doing things. Perhaps we need to repent of the negativity that we have instilled in the Church. Perhaps we need to be the voice of hope, encouragement and recognition that people in the Church need to hear. Isn't that what the saints do? They don't just point to injustice. They give us encouragement. They give us hope. They recognize the good at the same time that they are working to change the bad. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of hearing what's wrong with the Church. I've heard it my entire life. How can the Good News echo to the ends of the earth when the very people who are supposed to be preaching the Good News are shouting about the Bad News?

We have been given a mission. We have been given a task. We have been filled with the grace and power of the Holy Spirit to fulfill that mission. Now let's go do it! Let's get involved! Let's encourage our leaders and be the voice of hope in our Church and in our world! May heaven consume us.

The Arena: St. Ignatius Brianchaninov's Councils on Prayer: Part 5 The Jesus Prayer in Context

In chapter 24 of The Arena St. Ignatius gives three guidelines for how to go about one's rule with the Jesus Prayer. The first two guidelines don't really apply to those of us living outside of a monastery (for the most part). They involve how one should begin one's practice of the Jesus Prayer in monasteries where the evening rule is performed with or without bows. But the third guideline is written for those who live in monasteries that have no evening rule whatsoever. Here, I believe, is something that can be applied to the average lay person - at least to such persons that do not attend evening Vespers or Compline at their local parish or monastery.

"If you belong to a monastery where there is no common evening rule but it is left to each one individually to perform it in his cell, first perform the rule with bows, then engage in prayer or psalmody, and finally the Jesus Prayer."

We've spoken in previous posts about bows and prostrations and their role in the practice of the Jesus Prayer. While St. Ignatius does put strong emphasis on bows and prostrations, other spiritual fathers of our own times do not emphasize them quite so much. Again they are something that can be performed according to one's own strength. For some bows and prostrations are more spiritually profitable than for others. I personally don't find them very helpful...

One thing to notice here, however, is that after bows and prostrations St. Ignatius mentions "prayer or psalmody" as the next act before the Jesus Prayer. I personally love to pray the Liturgy of the Hours before I begin to pray the Jesus Prayer. While this is certainly possible in the Roman Catholic, Maronite, Coptic, and Syrian traditions, this is not so easy in the Byzantine tradition. For nearly all the other traditions in the Church, the Liturgy of the Hours is designed to be prayed either in groups or in private; and while it is certainly ideal that the Hours should always be prayed as a group, given that it is the prayer of the Church, the Church in Her wisdom recognizes that this is not always humanly possible. In the Byzantine tradition, however, the Hours can really only be prayed publicly as a group, given that the Byzantine East has maintained the importance of gathering together for the prayer of the Church. What has evolved in the Byzantine tradition, therefore, is a standard set of morning and evening prayers that can be prayed by the Faithful when participation in the public celebration of the Hours is not possible. These prayers can be found in almost every Byzantine prayer book (Catholic or Orthodox).

The point of practicing such a prayer rule, or psalmody, prior to the Jesus Prayer is to focus one's attention and heart on the coming prayer itself. The celebration of the Hours prepares us for our own private prayer life by showing us how to sanctify each moment; to practice the remembrance of God's presence. Ultimately the Jesus Prayer is the sanctification of the moments of our lives spent outside of an ecclesial setting. It is the remembrance of God's presence in the humdrum of daily life. With the Jesus Prayer we take the encounter with the living God that we experience in church, and we live that encounter in the world.

After we have performed our prostrations and our psalmody or prayer rule, then, Ignatius tells us, we are to go about the work of the Jesus Prayer. He says that we ought to begin with 100 repetitions of the Prayer. When prayed with attention and without hurry this practice should take us about half and hour. It is interesting to note that St. Theophan the Recluse stated that a beginner ought to start out by praying the Jesus Prayer for about 20 minutes each day as his or her strength allows. That would most likely give the same result as simply praying 100 Jesus Prayers as St. Ignatius recommends.

Each repetition of the Jesus Prayer ought to be followed by a brief period of silence (although in the Greek tradition, unlike the Slavic tradition, such a period of silence was not recommended because it was believed that one would lose focus on the prayer if one allowed for this silence). While praying the Prayer one also ought to be attentive to one's breathing. Breathing ought to be gentle and slow; "this precaution prevents distraction." The Fathers are almost universal in stating that breathing is key to focusing one's mind and attention. If one breathes deeply and slowly the mind is more able to relax and focus on just one thing. Actually, I remember in a psychology class I was taking some years ago our professor mentioned how he has helped people overcome anxiety and depression simply by teaching them to breathe properly. I find that taking a few minutes to breathe deeply through the diaphragm not only relaxes my body, but calms my mind from the troubles and worries of the day. To use the words of the Cherubic Hymn in the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, taking a few moments to breathe before prayer enables me to "lay aside all earthly cares that I may welcome the King of All."

Finally St. Ignatius encourages his readers to pray the Jesus Prayer any time we have a down moment. Metropolitan Kallistos (Ware) of Diokleia has mentioned in the past how such an instruction can be applied to those us who live in the world. The Jesus Prayer can be prayed while we're standing in line, waiting for a bus, driving in a car or stuck in a traffic jam, while on daily walks, or watching the kids play in the park, etc., etc., etc. The possibilities are endless. Since it is such a short prayer it is suitable for all occasions. And as I have shown in other posts it can be adapted into even shorter phrases if the occasion doesn't permit one to pray the full form of the Prayer. The goal of all of this, as St. Ignatius points out to us, is "to train yourself to the Jesus Prayer to such an extent that it becomes your unceasing prayer." May Heaven consume us!

Movements of the Spirit

Lately as my spiritual reading I have been reading a lovely work entitled The Syriac Fathers on Prayer and the Spiritual Life. I cannot recommend this work highly enough. It is a collection of short (ca. 5 pages) passages from the great mystics of the Syriac tradition - for those who don't know the Syriac tradition embraces the Syro-Malabar, Syro-Malankara and Maronite traditions among others. I love the fact that this book, like The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology, is also simply a collection of short passages. That makes it possible to read an inspiring piece of advice from a great saint in the morning or evening and then carry that advice with you for the rest of the day.

Contained in this collection is a passage from the writings of Evagrius. Although never canonized, Evagrius is probably the most influential spiritual author in the Eastern and Oriental traditions. Recognized for his brilliance, his works are studied by almost the entire East and Orient alike: Greek, Syriac, Coptic, Slavic, Assyrian, etc. You name it. The passage contained in The Syriac Fathers on Prayer and the Spiritual Life I found particularly interesting. Although Evagrius himself wrote in Greek, this passage survived only in a Syriac translation - many Evagrius' more speculative theological works were later condemned by the Church and the Greek editions were subsequently destroyed.

The particular passage translated in this lovely book contains many gems of advice, but there was one in particular that struck me. Evagrius says that while we are praying, should we be inspired by some insight from the Holy Spirit, or should the Spirit move our mind to some beneficial thought, we should cease our prayer and focus on the movement of the Spirit. He says that this is more beneficial to our souls than plodding through our prayers for the sake of finishing an allotted number of prayers.

I found this advice particularly interesting because I have read the same piece of advice from almost every great mystic across the traditions of the East and West. St. Teresa of Avila, St. Theophan the Recluse, St. John of the Cross, etc., etc., etc. all say that when we are at prayer or spiritual reading we need to be attentive to these movements of the Spirit. This was one of the reasons St. Theophan recommends allotting a certain amount of time to prayer rather than a certain number of prayers to say. Often when we are at prayer, a word or a phrase catches us, it grips our hearts, and we are led into deeper spiritual insights. Were we to ignore these movements then it is the same as telling God that what we have to say to Him is more important than what He has to say to us. It also stops us from really assimilating the prayer, its content and meaning, into our hearts and making the prayer our own.

The only exception I've seen given to this rule is while one is praying the Liturgy of the Hours. St. Teresa of Avila, if memory serves me correctly, pointed out that when such a movement strikes our hearts during the celebration of the Hours, we ought not to pause over it for fear of disrupting the movement of the prayers. Rather, we ought to make a mental note of the word, phrase, or prayer that struck us, and then go back later on and reflect further on that prayer.

For me personally, this advice from the saints is very difficult to implement both in my prayer time and in my spiritual reading. When praying I want to get through all my prayers before my time is up. And I have so many books that I want to read that should I stop to reflect on every passage that struck a cord in my heart, I would never make it to the end of a single book. But this is one of the most common and profound ways in which the Holy Spirit speaks to us through the prayers of the Church and the writings of the saints. Great patience is needed; patience and the ability to shut up and listen (something that I struggle with). May God grant us all the grace of being attuned to the movements of the Spirit in our hearts during our times of prayer and spiritual reading.

CHRIST IS RISEN!!!

The Arena: St. Ignatius Brianchaninov's Councils on Prayer: Part 4 Why the Jesus Prayer?

I figured it was high time that I wrap up the series we've been working on based off of St. Ignatius Brianchaninov's The Arena. I'm still planning a few more posts and an addendum based off of some recommendations from St. Theophan the Recluse, but my books are still packed away in boxes, so I'm going to have to really dig to find the materials I need. Today, however, I want to touch on St. Ignatius' introduction to the Jesus Prayer itself.

In this basic introduction to the Jesus Prayer St. Ignatius does not give us basic instructions for praying the Jesus Prayer, so much as demonstrates for us what the Jesus Prayer is and why it is important. Based off of the writings of the Patristic Fathers, he identifies for us two types of prayer: singing or hymnody, by which he means specifically the singing or prayerful reading of the Psalter, and prayer, by which he specifically means the Jesus Prayer. He makes the claim that any time the ancient Fathers speak of prayer the mean specifically the Jesus Prayer. I don't have the resources to verify that his claim here is true, but we will operate under the presumption that it is - who better to interpret the words of the saints than a saint, after all.

The Jesus Prayer itself, says St. Ignatius, is divided into two forms: the vocal and the mental. It is necessary that we start with a vocal recitation of the prayer and from there move on to the mental. Mental recitation is achieved when vocal prayer becomes concentrated, focused and attentive. To quote St. Theophan, mental or attentive prayer is achieved when the mind descends into the heart and is held there. Attentive prayer means that we enclose our minds in the words of the prayer, and conform our hearts to the words. In other words, we prayer slowly, with attention, and with compunction of heart. Our hearts must be attuned to what we are saying. This, for some, takes time and great effort. For others it is obtained easily and with little effort. The Spirit blows where it wills, I suppose. I've seen people who have prayed and struggled for years and still do not possess prayer of the heart despite their best efforts. I have also seen people who were, seemingly, beginners in the spiritual life, but who were given prayer of the heart almost immediately. Whether we are given such prayer right away or it takes years for us to receive the gift is not important. What is important is that we persevere in prayer with patience, always expecting and hoping for this great gift of God. Our Father has promised to give us all things so long as we ask in Jesus name, but He didn't promise to give us those thing immediately upon request. We have to be patient and allow our Father to prepare our hearts for the reception of the power and fire of the Holy Spirit.

St. Ignatius points out, however, that the above mentioned conditions - attentiveness, compunction, unhurriedness, etc. - are conditions for all prayer, not just for the Jesus Prayer. But, he says, these conditions are more easily obtained and observed in the Jesus Prayer. In the Psalms we have reflected a vast array of human emotion, theological thought and insight, and a wide array of other thoughts. I remember my spiritual father once telling me that in the Psalms we can find reflected every single human emotion. There is a Psalm for every feeling that we might feel. The Psalms, in many ways, are very human and are themselves some of the most beautiful prayers ever composed. Because of this great diversity, however, it can often be difficult to focus one's attention and one's heart while praying the Psalms. We move from great rejoicing, to lamentation, to repentance, to praise at a rapid pace and it is often difficult to keep up.

The Jesus Prayer, on the other hand, has but one thought: "The thought of the sinner's forgiveness by Jesus." This specific emphasis and focus, the saint warns us, is very dry. It is dry. Anyone who's ever persevered in the Jesus Prayer for any length of time knows that after awhile it can "get old," as we say nowadays. The words are simply repeated as though we are on autopilot. Our mind and heart aren't in the words because the words, for us, have become stale, old, dry. But we must persevere, we must hold our mind in attentiveness. We must bring the movements of our hearts into harmony with the words of the Jesus Prayer. The power to do this comes from the name of Jesus.

This is where I believe the great wisdom of our Mother, the Church, comes into play. The Jesus Prayer is great work, but it is work that must be done if we wish to progress in the spiritual life. But we need a break from labor every now and then. I remember reading one of the Eastern saints (I forget who) who mentions how if a bow is always strung up and ready to fire it will eventually snap. So too with the spiritual combatant who never "relaxes" so to speak. Soldiers on the battle front have to be removed every now and then, otherwise they reach the breaking point and their minds simply snap; they lose their grip on reality. So too in the spiritual life and particularly in the work of the Jesus Prayer.

My own personal opinion, for what it's worth, is that this is why we must balance our practice of the Jesus Prayer with Psalmody, or more specifically with our participation in the Liturgy of the Hours. The Hours can be a breath of fresh air that rejuvenates our practice of the Jesus Prayer. It is here that our Mother nourishes us and strengthens us so that we can go back into the arena of our hearts and fight once again with the name of Jesus as our weapon. Through the liturgical life of the Church, particularly the Eucharistic celebration and the Hours, we are brought out of ourselves and we celebrate the mysteries of Salvation History with our brethren. We are strengthened by our Mother and our brethren because we see that we are not in this fight alone. We are nourished by the very Body and Blood of Christ, and finally we are sent back into the world to continue our combat. This is why Sunday is such an important day, and why rest - not necessarily the rest of the body, but especially the rest of the soul - is so important on that day.

One final thought from St. Ignatius before I close out today's reflections. He closes off this chapter by asking, "What is it that will be given to a person who prays in the name of the Lord Jesus that can fill him to overflowing with joy?" The reply: We will be given the Holy Spirit! It is very interesting to reflect on the Jesus Prayer and its connection to the giving of the Holy Spirit. I remember hearing a priest once give a talk on the phrase "Lord, have mercy" that is repeated over and over in the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom. He said that the Greek word for "mercy" is actually derived from the same word as the Greek word for "anointing." When we ask for God's mercy, therefore, we are not simply asking for the forgiveness of our sins (although that is certainly an element). Above all, however, we are asking for God's anointing. And what is the anointing with which God anoints? God anoints us with His Holy Spirit! When we pray the Jesus Prayer we are not just asking for the forgiveness of our sins, we are also asking for the anointing of the Holy Spirit. We are asking for.... wait for it.... Baptism in the Holy Spirit! That's right, I said it. I used those words that many have come to associate with the Charismatic Renewal but which, in reality, stretch all the way back to the Early Church. I hope to be able to write on this more later on, but for now suffice it to say that Baptism of the Holy Spirit simply means a release of the graces and power of the Holy Spirit that were given to us in the Sacraments, particularly in Baptism, Chrismation/Confirmation, and the Eucharist. To use the language of St. Theophan the Recluse, Baptism of the Holy Spirit means the (re)kindling of the divine spark that was implanted in us at our initiation into the Church and that has been dormant within us through our own negligence and forgetfulness.

So in praying the Jesus Prayer, we are really praying for so much more than the forgiveness of our sins.  We pray for the anointing of the Holy Spirit, that the reign of Christ's Kingdom come in our hearts and spread from us throughout the world, that God's steadfast love bear fruit in us and through us in all of mankind. In short, when we pray the Jesus Prayer we pray that Christ's mission, His Gospel, His Good News of the coming of the Kingdom, be fulfilled in us and through us in all Mankind. May heaven consume us! CHRIST IS RISEN!!!

The Joy of the Resurrection

As I was praying through Safro this morning I was inspired to offer this sort of follow-up to my last post. In the "Sedro" of the "Hoosoyo" (I'll have to look up the definitions of those terms later so that I can explain just exactly what sedro and hoosoyo are) I found the following lines:

"Put joy into our hearts,

that we may be consoled amidst the trials of this world,

give witness to your name before all people,

and that they may know you (Christ Jesus), the Father and the Spirit..."

I was stunned yet again by this emphasis on joy that I find in the Maronite tradition. We are called to witness to Christ by sharing our joy in Him. Christianity, particularly Apostolic Christianity in its Catholic and Orthodox traditions, is not a doom-and-gloom religion, but a religion of joy and hope. Joy in the fact that the Kingdom of God is here; and hope in the Kingdom of God yet to come - a dynamic tension of the "already" and the "not yet." Christianity is a religion of joy because we have so great a redeemer; because while we were yet sinners Christ Jesus offered His life for us that we might have life in its fullest. Christianity is a religion of joy because of the great love that God our Father has for us in sending us His only Son as the light of the world shining in the darkness. Christianity is a religion of joy because with Christ we die to the old man and are raised to new life in the bosom of the Trinity, the Trinitarian life.

In the hymns for Pascha the Byzantine tradition calls us to rejoice in the Resurrection, to dance, to embrace one another, to shine, to radiate the light of the Resurrection that has shone on us. The angels shout, and all creation is turned upside down, reeling with joy in the fact of the Resurrection and reveling in its renewal. This Paschal joy must permeate our lives.

So often we think that if we provide better arguments, if we study apologetics more thoroughly, if we engage in informed intellectual debate, then we can convince people of the truth of Christianity. But, as St. Paul says, we preach Christ crucified and risen, a stumbling block to the Jews and folly to the Gentiles. Intellectual arguments are good, but they only go so far. One does not change hearts by offering "proofs" of this or that truth of Christianity. We change hearts by reveling in the folly of the Cross and rejoicing in the impossibility of the Resurrection. We change hearts by becoming fools steeped in God's foolishness, which is wiser than the greatest wisdom of men.

I often ask myself why certain writings from the saints and from a handful of modern authors and theologians really have a lasting impact on the Church. One thing that I find common to all of them is the amount of joy contained in those writings (yes, even within the writings of the great scholastic thinkers like Aquinas and Bonaventure). One need only read a few pages from the writings of folks like Catherine Doherty or Archbishop Joseph Raya or Fr. George Maloney before one is really infected with their joy in the risen Lord. Likewise one need only read a few lines from someone like St. Symeon the New Theologian, St. Ephrem the Syrian, St. Theophan the Recluse, St. Therese of Lisieux, or St. Francis of Assisi before one can almost see the light of their joy radiating off the very pages.

If we are to effectively evangelize the world around us, we must be Christ's light shining in that world. We must radiate the joy of the Resurrection. We must cry out the joy of the Resurrection as the angels in the empty tomb did to the myrrh bearing women. We must triumphantly sing the song of victory with joy and gratitude in our hearts and permeating our words. Only then will we truly begin to change the hearts (and gradually the minds) of those around us.

Christ is risen!

CHRISTOS ANESTI

El Maseeh qam

People of the Resurrection

I believe there is a temptation among Christians today to view ourselves as people of the Cross. Christians, whether we like it or not, are among the most persecuted peoples in the world. Although here in the U.S. the persecution is really one more of words and defamation than anything else, in other areas of the world Christians are murdered simply because they are Christian. Whether our reputations are murdered by the media and popular public opinion or our bodies are murdered by those who hate us and do not want to hear the Gospel message of Jesus Christ, one cannot deny that we are a persecuted people. In reaction to this ongoing persecution many Christians (I would venture to say most) have emphasized our participation in the sufferings, the Cross, of Christ. This is done almost to the point that we forget that in reality we are people of the Resurrection. As St. Paul points out to us, without the Resurrection the Cross is meaningless and our faith is in vain.

But what does it mean to be people of the Resurrection? How do we live in the light of the Resurrection and the hope of future glory in the coming Kingdom? This morning, while praying Safro (Maronite Morning Prayer) a couple of beautiful prayers illumined some answers for me. In the opening prayer we prayed:

"O Lord,
Allow us to share the joy of the apostles and holy women
on this glorious morning when they carried the good news.
Today, let their joy be ours, for in spite of two thousand years
this event which we commemorate is always present..."

It is often difficult to remember that Christ's Resurrection, although it is a fixed moment in history, is always present with us. It is an ongoing moment that we enter into through holy Baptism and we participate in through our participation in the life of the Church, Christ's Body. The Resurrection is now. Do we experience the joy of this moment in the same way as the apostles and myrrh-bearing women experienced it? Imagine the joy that Mary Magdalene experience when she realized the man in the garden was Jesus! He is alive! He is risen! Do we experience that same joy? Do we reflect that joy in our lives and attitudes? The first prayer of Safro has this to say:

"O Christ,
may we understand the meaning of your resurrection
so that we may not see in it a purely historical event
or only a foundation of our faith,
but a life which we must realize in ourselves every day,
a hope which we must draw each moment from our faith,
so that our souls may become just by your life,
and our hope may be united to your hope,
and in your kingdom we shall glorify you face to face.
Both here and there we shall praise you with a ceaseless love, forever."

The Resurrection is not simply a historical event; nor is it merely the foundation of our faith. It is both of these and so much more. The Resurrection is a life that we enter into through Baptism and that we must live every day. It is a life filled with joy and hope despite, or perhaps because of, the sufferings and persecutions that we undergo. The Cross is not something to focus on. It is passing. When we enter into the Cross of Christ we also enter into His hope that the Father will raise Him up in glory on the third day after His death. Since we have been raised in glory in Christ, do we rejoice in the Father Who has raised us up with Christ? Do we radiate the joy of Christ, the light that burst forth from the empty tomb? We cannot evangelize the culture around us by beating our chests and saying "Woe is me" because we are made to suffer here and now. We suffer, yes, but the battle is over and Christ is victorious! Why do we hang our heads as though we've been defeated? A priest I once knew used to say, "We know who wins." Indeed we do. We know Who has already won. We ought to rejoice in the victory of Christ and radiate the light of the Victorious One. When we are joyful in Christ, when we radiate the glory of the Resurrection, only then will the darkness in the world around us be dissipated.

Christ is risen!
CHRIST IS RISEN!!!
CHRISTOS ANESTI!!!

Shout that out at the top of your lungs and let those words penetrate to the depths of your being. Our God is alive and with us always! What seemed like defeat was turned into victory. So too today. Despite everything, let us continue to live in the reality of the Resurrection, rejoicing in our hope in Christ and in God our loving Father. May heaven consume us! CHRIST IS RISEN!!!