Allhallowtide

...since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...
–Hebrews 12:1

When we look only directly at what is in front of us, it is easy to loose sight of where we are going. We can also fail to see the significant progress we have made. It also becomes all too easy to forget that we are not on this journey alone. Countless other saints and souls have made this journey before; we are following the well-worn path of faith. Tonight we enter into Allhallowtide, the three-day time in the Church where we remember All Saints (01 Nov) and All Souls (02 Nov). Tonight, 31 Oct, we stand on the eve of All Hallows, better known to most of us as Halloween.

As he set out to encourage the faith of his persecuted audience, the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews recounted the lives of some of the faithful who went before them: Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Moses. He mentions others unknown by name, but their lives of faith still shine brightly: "...who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated—of whom the world was not worthy—wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth." (Heb 11:33-38) Perhaps as we reflect on various saints of the past, or other faithful souls whom we know personally, we too might be encouraged by their faithful life. For they now behold the face of God, the very "place" to which we all are heading, the place of healing, the place of joy, the place of love.

During Allhallowtide we also reckon with the reality that right now, here on earth, we are not utterly separated from our faithful sisters and brothers. From our catechism we read that the Church is "the whole community of faithful Christians in heaven and on earth, called and formed by God into one people." (§92) And it is this Church who, "through union with Christ, as celebrated in the sacrament of Holy Communion, the Church on earth participates with the Church in heaven in the eternal worship of God." (§104) We might say that during our Eucharistic worship, the veil between earth and heaven grows thin. The Church–on earth and in heaven–are the faithful of God, called and kept by His faithfulness seen most clearly in Jesus Christ.

This Sunday we will observe the feast of All Saints. Though its actual day is on 01 Nov, it may be observed on the Sunday following. What a gift to to reminded we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses as we journey toward the Lord. Here is another gift: I came across the following poem by Malcolm Guite entitled All Saints. May it also bless you as it has me, as we prepare for this Sunday's celebration.

All Saints | Malcolm Guite

Though Satan breaks our dark glass into shards
Each shard still shines with Christ’s reflected light,
It glances from the eyes, kindles the words
Of all his unknown saints. The dark is bright
With quiet lives and steady lights undimmed,
The witness of the ones we shunned and shamed.
Plain in our sight and far beyond our seeing
He weaves them with us in the web of being
They stand beside us even as we grieve,
The lone and left behind whom no one claimed,
Unnumbered multitudes, he lifts above
The shadow of the gibbet and the grave,
To triumph where all saints are known and named;
The gathered glories of His wounded love.

Grace & Peace

Where Else Shall We Go?

Where else shall we go?
–John 6:68

The past few weeks have been confusing and weighty. I here speak at least for myself, though I know I echo the thoughts of others in our parish and diocese. Much of this has to do with seismic events, announcements, and public reporting which touches on our province (the Anglican Church in North America), and the broader Anglican Communion. As the Lord calls us as Christians to be people of the Light, for Christ is the Light and our Life, the purpose of this writing is to ensure you are all aware of things that are taking place. There is no desire to hide from difficult things.

Several weeks ago, during our Eucharistic liturgy, we prayed for the Jurisdiction of Armed Forces and Chaplaincy (JAFC). This was due to a rift that began to tear at the relationship between the JAFC and the ACNA. You can read the JAFC's press releases here and the ACNA's press releases here. Historically, the JAFC was the means by which Anglican (ACNA) clergy could serve as chaplains in the Armed Forces. As is often the case, we are at such a remove from the intricate details that we are left with more questions than answers. I have my own questions about where the truth might be found. What has transpired through the past few weeks is the JAFC, and its bishop Derek Jones, have left the province. That said, not all chaplains decided to follow Bishop Jones. In fact the majority have stayed within the ACNA as our province puts into place the means necessary to continue caring for chaplains and maintaining their working relationship and service in the Armed Forces.

On 16 October, Gafcon released a statement to the effect that it is finally reordering and resetting the Global Anglican Communion. (You can read that communique here.) For nearly two decades Gafcon has encouraged and warned the primarily Western Anglican provinces, namely England, that she needs to return to the Faith, provide biblical leadership, and pick up the mantle historically given to her: being the first among equals in the Global Anglican Communion. For years the Church of England has neglected these requests and warnings. So on 16 October, Gafcon announced the global reset, no longer recognizing England as the leader of the Anglican Communion. There are parts of Gafcon's work that I understand and fully support. If the Church of England will not lead in the apostolic tradition, holding fast to Holy Scripture as our primary authority for Faith and Practice, someone else must step in and lead. (We may draw a parallel to when Paul spoke out against Peter in Galatians 2.) Still, I have questions about what this looks like. Also, what does this mean for those faithful Christians–laity, clergy, bishops–who are still in provinces that have relationships with the Church of England? Gafcon's statement seems to require severing relationship with England. I am confused as to what a way forward looks like.

As if this were not enough, this past week the Washington Post has released two articles. The one released today regarding the Bishop Ruch trial restates many facts and reports already conducted over the past few years. That said, it still raises many questions. This trial has finally been concluded, the findings of which are to be made in the coming weeks, if not December at the latest. The more alarming report made by the Washington Post was published yesterday, regarding Archbishop Steve Wood. And here I am at a loss. I simply do not know all that is going on. I do not know where the truth lies. As Bishop Ken has written to clergy, we are reminded that, "We take seriously any accusation of misconduct by any bishop, clergy person, deacon, lay leader, or volunteer serving within the ACNA. The Archbishop is accountable to the same standards and disciplinary process as any other leader accused of misconduct. There is a rigorous process in our canon law to investigate and seek the truth in these matters. To ensure the standard disciplinary process can proceed without complication or interference, the province does not plan to comment on these allegations, and it would be inappropriate for us to comment on or speculate about the allegations contained within the presentment."

So what does all of this, especially the report of Archbishop Wood, mean for us as a small lamp on the hill of Seattle? First, the Lord has not given us a spirit of timidity nor fear, but one that seeks after the Truth, which is to seek after Christ in all things. Turning allegations (which may certainly be true!) into supposed fact before a process can be conducted is not helpful to the Church nor to us. That said, there are a variety of ways we may rightly respond to such news including questions, anger, lament. My proverbial door is always open to hear what is on your heart. Second, this is not a time for us to circle the wagons, supposedly defending "our own" at the expense of others. That would again be to determine the outcome of the report before the investigative process has taken place. As Bishop Ken mentioned, even an archbishop is not above our laws and canons. This is a good thing. Third, it is important to remind you all that our parish has its own church safeguarding policies and procedures. You can find a summary of those here, along with links to the full documents.

Lastly, such trying and confusing times are ripe for us to reckon with Peter and his words to Christ. When Jesus asked Peter if he would depart as many other disciples had done, he simply replied, Lord, where else shall we go? There is tension in those words. There is faith also. Being with Christ does not always mean that life is smooth sailing, that everything makes sense. We are currently at a time when life is not smooth sailing, everything does not make sense. And yet, where else shall we go other than to continuing holding fast to Jesus, our only hope in life and in death?

Please continue to keep the Church in your prayers. And, if I may humbly ask, please keep me in your prayers as well. Sunday is only a few days off. A sermon is still needed. I do look forward to being with you all, as I do each Sunday. For there, in some mystical and yet embodied way, we meet with Jesus, the only place we may go, the only person to Whom we may turn.

Grace & Peace

Trusting Christ All The Way

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will act.
–Psalm 37:3

Trust is such a hard thing to come by for, in some measure, it is the act of giving up, or rather giving over, to another. Trusting your neighbor to care for your dog while you are on vacation is the act of giving up your dog into the care of another. Trusting the locks on your door at night is the act of giving over attentive watchfulness through the night to the manufacturer, installer, and the structure of your home. To trust another is to relinquish control. But trust can appear more tenuous when the stakes seem higher.

The psalmist calls us to commit our way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will act. That is, rather than carving out a wonderful plan for your life, and perhaps there might be a little God-sized area for Him to neatly tuck into, the overarching aim of your life is to be committed to the Lord. And is this not the great act of trust? The greatest act of letting go of control? But what control do we really have anyway when even our very breath is dependent on the grace of God? Perhaps, then, committing our way to the Lord is simply acknowledging what is already the case: we are solely dependent upon Him for all things.

So depend on Him in all things great and small. This is the very thing we observe Jesus doing time and again in the Gospels and so we are in good company. Committing our way to the Lord does not mean that life will be easy and comfortable. But it does mean that wherever we are going, what lies at the end of the Way, is none other than Jesus Himself. Come what may in this world, when Jesus is our aim, when He is our end, that Way can only be named blessed.

Settled under the Yoke of Christ

Often we may think of a yoke, the harness an ox or donkey might carry, as a means of control, the farmer imposing his brute will on the beast of burden. And I suppose if the farmer is ill-willed, then this may be an accurate assumption. But a yoke is, or at least can be, a means of leading one to accomplish good. If we know not what good is, then we need to be led into that good work, led into pastures green, and led beside still and quieting waters. Moreover, if our will drives us into temptation, then we need the good yoke of Another's will to lead and guide us into all truth.

Life with Jesus is a life wherein we take up His yoke. Even doing so is a good confession. For in taking up the yoke of His will, we confess the inability of our own. We need the leading of Another. We need the love of Another. We need the good constraints of Another. At times this yoke may feel a heavy burden. Still, persevere, endure, ask for the aid of the Holy Spirit. In time you will come to experience the yoke of Jesus as simple and light. That is, there is little to it in one sense, and yet that is enough. What is the yoke of His will? Love the Lord your God. Love your neighbor as yourself. Herein lies all joy and goodness. Herein is the well of life. 

Let His yoke settle on you, for it is the yoke of life.

Finding Fitting Shelter

...hide me under the shadow of your wings
– Ps 17:8

Where do you go when you need to hide? I suppose the question of where depends on the question of what: from what are you hiding? The blankets of a bed are a great place when you are hiding from nightly monsters. (Just make sure you get your feet completely covered by the blankets!) A home or a storefront is a good place to hide from harsh storms and lightning. But where is the place to go and hide when the what is immaterial? How can you hide from emotional turmoil, spiritual oppression, intrusive thoughts? It would seem there is no safe space to hide from such things. If there is no safe place, then you are only left out in the storm, out in the dark.

A refrain through the Psalms, however, is the prayer for the Lord to do exactly this: hide me! Certainly there were physical enemies to which the psalmist refers. But the Psalms are more than that. Jesus teaches us that, as these are His prayers (for He prayed them), they are holistic; they do not speak only or merely to the material forces that oppose and oppress. The place where we are to seek our hiding place is under the shadow of Your wings. When we seek a hiding place we are confessing, whether we know it or not, that the "assailants" are too great for us, whether in number or in immensity. As God is infinite, He will always "outnumber" our assailants. As He overshadows us with grace, so does the doom of His shadow fall on our assailants.

To be under the shadow of His wings, is to draw near to Him, primarily by drawing near to the Holy Spirit who is often depicted in the form and activity of a bird. There, near to the beating heart of the Lord, we are to hear Him, that His quiet words and wisdom might dispel the darkness of that which assails us. There, next to the beating heart of the Lord, we hear words of identity: you are the beloved child of God. There, next to the beating heart of the Lord, we hear words of provision: I set the Table before you in the presence of your enemies. There, next to the beating heart of the Lord, we hear words of belonging: I have called you by name; you are Mine.

Draw near. Take refuge. Feel His warmth. Listen to His love.


Grace & Peace

Fr. Matthew

Seeking In The Right Place

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above,
where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. – Col 3:1

I made my way to Richmond Beach the other day as the tide was to be low. With the tide so low it meant that I could access the southern side of the beach which is normally inaccessible. My aim: sea glass. Since that area is less frequented it means that there might be more, unique pieces of sea glass there for the finding. During my search I was struck by the act of seeking itself. To seek after something is to have some objective, however loosely imagined, in mind and heart. It sets a trajectory, a course for a journey. And as you seek after that one thing, and seek after it diligently, your mind and heart are focused on it. One outcome of this is you lose focus on other things, those that are less worth your time and attention.

To be quite honest, most of what we do in life is a seeking after., whether it is a paycheck, approval of others, some peace and quiet, affirmation, stability, comfort, an end to loneliness, love. Seek the things that are above, says St Paul. This means there are things that are "above," or beyond, our earthly and limited perception. There is a true and greater reality which is not easy to discern, but is there nonetheless for the seeking and the finding. But why seek the things that are above, when there is so much here below we can seek after, so much we are enamored by, and so much that may seem too satisfy (at least for a while)? Because, says St Paul, above is where Christ is. Where Christ is, is where our heart and affection and desire are to be also. For He is our life and our salvation. Where He goes, we shall go. Where He leads, we shall follow.

Seeking things that are above, however, is not like seeking after sea glass at Richmond Beach. For the latter is concrete, physical, and down to earth. It is tangible and can be touched and held. What then does it mean to seek after the things that are above, if we cannot lay hold of them? It means to seek after and so also to find, the ways of God. To be shaped and formed by Him. To seek after the heart of Mercy, that we might be a people of mercy. To seek after the heart of Love, that we might be the hands and feet of love. To seek after the Word of Truth, that we might be people who know and proclaim truth. To seek after Justice, that we might be those who fight against injustices here below. To seek after the holiness of God, that we might be holy.

So, did I end up finding any sea glass in my seeking? I did not. But in my seeking, I found again the heart of God.

Grace & Peace

Sparrows Seeking Home

Even the sparrow finds a home...at your altars, O Lord. – Ps 84:3

I am no ornithologist; neither have I studied ancient cultures' views of the simple sparrow. But the biblical witness seems to view such critters as commonplace, rather insignificant. Their value, at least in 1st century monetary terms, was not even a penny's worth. (Mt 10:29) Worthless, some might say. And yet, even such seemingly insignificant creature finds a home at the altars of the Lord. This might–should?–appear a bit shocking, for the Lord was meticulous in His instructions to Moses about the precise detail of the Tabernacle, which was a copy of the heavenly Temple. (The same details applied to the later Solomonic Temple in Jerusalem.) Replete with all of its precious metals, purification rites, consecration ceremonies, and restricted access, it was a holy site for the holy God wherein He made His people holy through sacrifice. And yet, somehow, even pesky sparrows, with all their hopping, chirping, and flitting about, find their way to the altars of God, and there find rest. Are they to be brushed aside? Run off? No. In fact, blessed are they who dwell in Thy House.

If the Lord invites and welcomes in the sparrows, of such little value as they are, how much more does He welcome you in? If the Lord cares even for such fickle creatures, how much more does He care for you? As the Tabernacle/Temple was a copy of the heavenly Temple, it was an earthly representation of a heavenly reality. As one entered the Temple, we might say they entered heaven. (This is, in fact, precisely what Jacob says when he wrestles with the Lord in Genesis 28:17 How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.) Even after the resurrection and ascension of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, this heaven-on-earth reality endures. Where, then, are we when we darken the doors of the sanctuary? Are we not, like the little sparrows, returning home, finding our rest from the wearying week by taking refuge at the altar of the Lord? There we hear His voice. There we receive His food. There we commune together as one people, regardless of our differences. And there, though we cannot (now) see Him as we desire, we offer Him our praise. Our worship, little as it is, is pleasing to Him, just as the simple song of the sparrow.

Grace & Peace

Burying Our Alleluia

As we prepare to enter the Lenten season, a penitential season of fasting and prayer, the time has come to bury our Alleluia. This word–it is simply the Hebrew word transliterated into English–means Praise the Lord. And yes while it is always good and right to praise the Lord regardless of the Church calendar, one way we live out our Lenten fast is by withholding this goodness, at least for a while.

As absence makes the heart grow fonder, restraining ourselves from this word which is typically heard on the lips of the parishioner in response to the goodness of God, is meant to prompt us in two ways. First, the reason we "fast" from it is that we might be reminded of the state of our souls. When in worship we encounter those times when we typically respond with Alleluia, but now we refrain from doing so, we are reminded what time it is: it is the time of heartfelt reckoning of the ways we seek to be sustained and affirmed by all means other than the Lord. Jesus, as he was tempted in the wilderness for forty days and nights–the Lenten season reflects this–was sustained not by bread, nor by Satan's deceitful words. He was sustained by the substantial food of the Lord through the Holy Scriptures.

The second prompt is that we would desire the restoration of Alleluia which will happen at Easter, the feast of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ when He overcame Satan, Sin, and Death. So then the fasting from this word is meant to lift up our eyes in hope to Jesus Christ, for He alone is our salvation. He alone is our Food. He alone is our Healer. He alone is to be our Love.

The invitation then on this eve of Ash Wednesday is to prepare yourselves–heart, soul, and body–for entering the valley of Lent. This is not a time, as Jesus teaches in Matthew 6, to put on gloomy faces that others will hopefully see how much we are fasting (however we might participating in that good activity). Rather, it is a time to take stock of the storehouse of our heart, discarding the old, past-expiration date, rotten items we find therein, that we might be filled more with heavenly provisions, namely faith, hope, and love.

Luminous Being

O gladsome light, pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,
O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!

Light in the midst of darkness is a brilliant thing. It does not take too much light to dispel the oppression of darkness. Yet, as the light increases, darkness flees all the more. This darkness does because it has no existence in and of itself; it is merely the absence of light. Light, on the other hand, is. And as Jesus is the Light of God coming into the World, He slowly, steadily, and faithfully dispels the darkness.

Throughout the Tradition of the Church we encounter other luminaries, saints who have been ignited by the love of Christ and have carried that light forward wherever they might be. Today, 13 Dec, is the feast of St. Lucy. She was born in the late third century and was martyred for her faith at the young age of twenty because she would not worship the emperor. Being a virgin, she was sentenced to be defiled in a brothel. As the tradition goes, soldiers could not remove her from where she was. So they piled up wood to burn her where she stood. As the fire would not ignite, they resorted to piercing her with the sword.

Why does the Church remember and hold feast days for such tragic stories such as Lucy's? They remind us that we are not alone as we sojourn in this life. We also are meant to draw encouragement from their lives, their faithfulness in the midst of strife and persecution. Yes we draw encouragement from Jesus and we know that He is with us always. We also draw encouragement from the stories of other humans, other shining lights of Christ that dot the landscape of time. You also are one of those luminous beings, burning with the oil of gladness, enlivened by the love of Jesus. Let the light of your life and faith burn brightly, full of truth, compassion, and love.

Grace & Peace

Tomorrow, I Come

The light shineth in darkness;
and the darkness comprehended it not.
– John 1:5

The season of Advent is the season of reckoning with the darkness. It is a time to take stock of the darkness of the world, not shying away from what we might see. Peering into the darkness, we not only look into the darkness "out there," outside of ourselves. We also take stock of the darkness within, the internal dragons we face. But Advent does not stop here. It is not a time only to say "welp, it's a rather grim scene." Advent is a time spent longing for the Light to pierce into the darkness, pierce through it, and in fact pierce the darkness itself. In John's Gospel the human race is given the Good News that the Light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. That is, the darkness has not won the day, nor will it ever. (Thanks be to God.)

As we move through this Advent season, we will have an opportunity in the Longest Night & O Antiphons service to reckon with the darkness of the world and the Light of Christ that defeats that darkness. This service–it will be held on 20 Dec, instead of 21 Dec due to building availability–begins with ample time of quiet and individual prayer wherein we are invited to lament and grieve those things we need to lament and grieve. Often our culture does not afford us the time and space to do so. The second movement of this service follows that line from John's Gospel, the Light shining in the darkness. This is captured in the O Antiphons portion of the service. The O Antiphons are short prayers that are traditionally prayed at Evening Prayer in the days leading up to Christmas Eve. They are the basis for the hymn O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Each stanza from that hymn is one of the antiphonal prayers. The creative beauty of the prayers is that, as the Church would pray them in the days leading up to Christmas Eve, the titles given to Christ create an acronym in reverse order. O Sapientia (Wisdom); O Adonai (Lord); O Radix Jesse (Root of Jesse); etc. The first letter of each of these titles spells out the Latin phrase Ero cras, meaning Tomorrow, I come. This is the hope of the world, the Light that shines in the darkness.

The darkness we face is real and there is no sense denying that. The Light who is Jesus, however, is far greater. May our hearts be warmed by His eternal goodness and love.

Giving Thanks In The Dark

For some time I have been meaning to read my way through Wendell Berry's Port William series again. So I picked up Hannah Coulter. It is a novel in which Hannah, now an elderly woman, shares her memories of loss and love. It is, as she says, "my story, my giving of thanks." How timely, I thought, given the recent national holiday. 

For some, giving thanks is an easier task; easier because of one's lot in life and/or easier because of one's disposition. For others, we may find ourselves unsure of how to proceed in giving thanks due to some difficulty or tragedy. Is it OK to give thanks even in the midst of grief? Does that shortchange sorrow? "In every thing give thanks," St. Paul tells us, but how can we? Hannah Coulter, the aged widow, provides us wise counsel: "From the time I was a girl I have never been far from [grief]. But grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery."

The persistent presence of love–Divine Love–is the means of giving thanks, even when life is dark. We now enter into the season of Advent, the season of entering into the dark. Christmas is still a ways off. For now, we take a hard look at the world–ourselves as well–that we might come to our senses, reckoning that only God can save us. So we look off into the distance and wait.

Approaching The END

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself,
that where I am you may be also.
John 14:3

Rather than looking to our calendars, we look to the Church to tell us what time it is. She tells us we approach the end of the year; Christ the King Sunday approaches. With it we are reminded that there is an end to things, a closure that births a new beginning. At times this can feel like we are merely running in circles. The Preacher in Ecclesiastes certainly felt that vicious cyclical movement, at least as pertains to all things "under the sun." And if this were all there is to life–we are merely hamsters running on a hamster wheel, going fast to nowhere–we would all be pitied. We even hear the pessimistic–some call it realist–adage "all good things must come to an end." And from our real, though limited, vantage point of life, that may appear to be the case. Appearances, however, as we know, can be and often are deceiving. This is why we need to hear from Another who has a greater vantage point, one that is "above the sun," who resides in the heavenly places. And more than merely being a spatial description–as if He were only above us,–it is at the same time a temporal description. All time is now for the Lord. I AM that I AM declared the Lord to Moses.

Looking to Holy Scripture we find that we ought to amend the "realist" adage. "All good things must come to The End," is the biblical proclamation. And that End is Jesus. We are not running in circles in wild desperation to nowhere; we are pilgrims on a journey that has an End in sight. As we approach the end of the year, may it be a lesson in following Jesus: we approach the end that we might embrace the End. Put another way around: the end of the year reminds us that one day, by the grace of God, we will be Home.

Grace & Peace,

– Fr. Matthew

Only One King

We have no king but Caesar.
John 19:15

There stooped the King of kings and Lord of lords. Rejected by His own people, those He came to save. Rather than acknowledging Jesus as the King, they hitched their wagon to kings of the earth. This was not new for God's people. It goes back to Israel's first demand for a king. There, in 1 Samuel 8, we hear the cry of the people before the prophet Samuel, through whom the Lord had led His people: "...there shall be a king over us, that we also may be like all the nations." (v20) Moments earlier we heard Samuel grieving over Israel's demand for a king, at which the Lord clarified whom they reject: "...they have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me from being king over them." (v7)

What ancient Israel and their descendants, the Jews, reveal is simply the heart of humanity. Often we look to rulers of this world to be our savior, our redeemer, maybe even our friend. It is rather easy to get caught up in the fervor of the moment and, by our speech and our actions, we forget Whose we are, to which Kingdom we belong, and we forget our King.

I write these things, as you most likely have already inferred, because we as a nation near the edge of another presidential election. Regardless of how you might participate in this election, first and foremost keep in your mind and heart: you have but one King, Jesus Christ. Whatever transpires in our nation in the coming days and weeks, it does not impinge upon the King of heaven, for His kingdom, and His alone, has no end.

"I heard every creature," says John the Seer, "in heaven and on earth, and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, 'To Him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever.'" (Rev 5:13) Join in that heavenly chorus, by word and by deed, even while you live here on earth. Jesus reigns. Let all the earth rejoice.

Extreme Devotion

All extremes, except extreme devotion to the Enemy [God], are to be encouraged. Not always, of course, but at this period [of time]. Some ages are lukewarm and complacent, and then it is our business to soothe them yet faster asleep. Other ages, of which the present is one, are unbalanced and prone to faction, and it is our business to inflame them.
– The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

In this latest letter to Wormwood, Screwtape notes the cultural moment and encourages Wormwood to exploit it. At times, the cultural moment is one wherein society is lulled to sleep by a variety of methods. Wealth is often a contributing factor to a society being lulled to sleep. The other side of the spectrum is extreme devotion, primarily to some cause or faction. As one becomes more entrenched in their own ideals, they become more skeptical and outspoken against the “other.” Thus a rift is created, an ever-widening chasm into which the entire world, it might seem, will thrust itself headlong. Yet, as Lewis often has Screwtape do, he places his finger on the one thing that Satan despises, which is the one thing the Church is to take up: extreme devotion to [God].

I am not that big of a fan of our cultural moment wherein heightened emphasis is placed on being extreme. This is applied to all aspects of life and depicted on social media. (Of course, we only see one side of a person’s life on social media and thus we are not given the whole picture.) Living from extreme to extreme burns a person out and burns them up. You can only sustain that level of intensity for so long. The glory of a mountain-top, and a mountain-top experience, is only seen because it stands in stark contrast the (beautiful) normalcy of most of life. If everything is a mountain-top experience, then nothing is. And we are only driven from emotion to emotion.

So, if we were to take up extreme devotion to God, this is how I would envision it. Let your extreme devotion be like the simplicity of Mary who replied to the angel Gabriel: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” (Lk 1:38) And let the simplicity of your extreme devotion take up her song, the Magnificat, which the Church sings each evening in Evening Prayer. Let your extreme devotion to God be simple like that of Simeon and Anna, who faithful and prayerfully awaited the consolation of Israel, the redemption of Jerusalem in the promised Messiah. (Lk 2:25ff). Let your extreme devotion to God be simple as you take up the teachings of Jesus in the Beautitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God... (Mt 5:2ff) Let your extreme devotion to God be simple as your life is marked by the fruit of the Spirit: Love, joy, peace, patience… (Gal 5:22-23).

Such ways of living may certainly seem extreme in a manner of speaking, for they are not of earth; they are of God and as such they are divine in origin. And so they may appear to be extreme in the eyes of the world, maybe even in the eyes of the Church. But let not the extremity be due to the intensity by which you perform such things. Rather, may your “extreme” devotion to God be seen in the simple, faithful, daily act of dying to yourself and living unto the Lord.

Daily Cross, Daily Bread

Your patient will, of course, have picked up the notion that he must submit with patience to the Enemy’s [God’s] will. What the Enemy means by this is primarily that he should accept with patience the tribulation which has actually been dealt out to him–the present anxiety and suspense. It is about this that he is to say, ‘ Thy will be done,’ and for the daily task of bearing this that the daily bread will be provided. It is your [Wormwood] business to see that the patient never thinks of the present fear as his appointed cross, but only of the things he is afraid of.
– The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

If we only ever focus on the things of which we are afraid, and continue to spiral in our fear of those things, we will get nowhere. And we will get there rather quickly. Anxiety is the gasoline that is liberally dumped onto the fire of our fear. And the one doing the dumping is the devil. This does not mean that our fears and anxieties are only a spiritual issue. We are body and soul; what affects the one affects the other. So there are physiological and neurological factors that play into and on our anxieties and fears. (I say this as one who has known firsthand what anxiety feels like, even when it opens the floodgates to panic attacks.) Yet, we are not to so over-psychologize our humanity that we set aside our souls.

When we spend our energy on fleeing in all manner of directions away from that which we fear, we are harried by the devil. This is the end towards which Screwtape encourages Wormwood: your business to see that the patient never thinks of the present fear as his appointed cross, but only of the things he is afraid of. As Lewis so deftly writes in this book, we as Christians are to take up the opposite counsel of Screwtape. We are to accept with patience the tribulation which has actually been dealt out to him [us]–the present anxiety and suspense. It is about this that he is [we are] to say, ‘ Thy will be done.’ And that, of course, can feel like we are just giving up or giving in. Rather, in saying Thy will be done we are giving up our fear and anxiety to the Lord. Is this not the very thing Jesus did in the Garden in Gethsemane: Yet not my will, but your will be done. Jesus does not say in this phrase that his pain and suffering and fear and anxiety do not matter. Rather, they matter so much that he gives them up to the only One who can do a thing about it. Moreover, he gives them up to the One who desires to do anything about it. And so Jesus takes up his cross. His instruction to those who follow him–his Body, the Church–is to do the same: if any would follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.

Jesus knows the weight of the Cross; he knows the weight of your cross. As God is love, he does not leave you to bear your cross alone. He provides you sustenance for the daily cross: daily Bread. Note the daily aspect of this. We can easily get too ahead of ourselves which heightens fears and anxieties. The Lord calls our attention to 24hr increments; one revolution of the earth on its axis. There are enough worries in that span of time. And there is enough Bread to go around to sustain you in that span of time. The Bread of which we speak is Jesus. He gives himself to his people through the Holy Scriptures, through the Holy Spirit in prayer, and through the Holy Eucharist.

As you encounter fears and anxieties, consider that they might be the cross you are to bear for that day. And, and, let that drive you to ask for our daily Bread: Lord evermore give us this Bread. (Jn 6:34)

Contented Worldliness

…how disastrous for us [demons] is the continual remembrance of death which war enforces. One of our best weapons, contented worldliness, is rendered useless. In wartime not even a human can believe that he is going to live forever.
– The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

It would seem that one of, if not the greatest, disruptions in pursuing holiness is the tragedy of war. Certainly war is tragic, and Lord knows the world has seen too much of it already. (I fear that we have not seen the last of it; Christ have mercy.) That said, Screwtape has a different take on what disrupt one’s pursuit of holiness: contented worldliness. And if our world has had too much of war, it (especially the Western world) has far greater problems when it comes to contented worldliness. In wartime, as Screwtape notes, not even a human can believe that he is going to live forever. By “live forever,” he refers to life in this world. Wartime makes clear that an end comes for us all. It is the staccato in a piece of music. The blast of seven trumpets. It is the exclamation point in a sentence. It is the lament of a mother for her Son.

The gristle of war stands in sharp relief to the creature comforts of an easy life. If ever there were an opium of the masses, contented worldliness just might be it. It lulls us to sleep, even the Church. And this is precisely what Screwtape (a fictitious character), and the Devil (who is very much real), desires. For, when we are contented with the world–indeed when we lay up our treasures here in earthen jars–we turn our eyes away from the Lord. We no longer follow the example of the maiden who looks to the hand of her mistress for provision. We look rather to our pleasant life and conclude life isn’t all that bad. And we ever so softly and slowly drift into a numbed existence.

The problem in all of this is that we are looking for contentment in all the wrong places. As all things of this world will eventually expire,–they will be rolled up like a garment and taken away–to look for contentment in the things of this world is to seek for satisfaction in things that are temporary. We place the weight of our souls on that which cannot possibly sustain us. The pursuit of holiness, when it comes to contentment, is to set our minds on things above, not on earthly things. (Col 3:2) It is to seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness. All else will be added unto us. (Mt 6:33) It is to seek the face of God. (Ps 27:8)

In all of this note that finding contentment in God and not the things of this world does not necessitate that one must become as poor as possible. It might be that you ought to give more of your material possessions away. But poverty of possessions does not necessarily equate to poverty of soul. Rather, when it comes to contentment, pursuing holiness means that the Lord is your first love.

The things of this world may be deemed good, but that is only because they come from our good God. They are meant not to replace, but to lead us to Him.

The Posture of Prayer

At the very least, they [humans] can be persuaded that the bodily position makes no difference to their prayers; for they constantly forget, what you [Wormwood] must always remember, that they are animals and that whatever their bodies do affects their souls…Teach them to estimate the value of each prayer by their success in producing the desired feeling.
– The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

In this latest dispatch to Wormwood, Screwtape advises him how to disrupt the Christian’s communion with God, which we ought to call prayer. Wormwood is to persuade the Christian that the body and posture does not really matter. For the Faith is only a “spiritual” thing. This way of thinking, prevalent in our own time, divides the human being in two, often with the assumption that the really real “you” is the immaterial, the “spiritual,” the intellect. The body seems to then be only the casing, the wrapper, of our true selves. Such way of thinking runs deep in the world and also the Church. It also dovetails into the supposed desire of being “authentic.” What this typically means is, “only if/when I feel a certain way will I participate. For, to do otherwise, would not be true to myself.” But that is like a young child determining that he will not walk until he feels like learning the art of it. Of course, unless the child begin with baby steps–stumbling, falling, getting back up and falling again–he will never be able to walk to a friend’s house, run to the aid of another, ascend the heights of mountains beautiful. “Be true to yourself” be damned. (I mean that in the most godliest of senses.) Rather, much to the horror of Screwtape, we ought to begin inhabiting the bodily practices that mirror the spiritual habits. For, whatever [our] bodies do affects [our] souls. This is why our Eucharistic life–worship, prayer–involves so much of our bodies, for we are embodied souls. What affects the soul affects the body and vice versa. And since it is far easier to move the body that we might move the soul, let us begin where we can. In the Anglican tradition we stand to praise, the erectness of our bodies demonstrating the upwardness of our praise to our God who is in heaven. We sit to listen, which is a posture of a student to a teacher. We do not “stand” in authority over Holy Scripture; we sit in submission to it. Lastly, we kneel to pray, for kneeling is the posture of humble petition and request.

Screwtape also advises Wormwood that he is to have the Christian man estimate the value of each prayer by [his] success in producing the desired feeling. In other words, prayer “works” if I “feel” it working. Of course, how one measures if one feels enough, or feels rightly, is entirely subjective. Our feelings are also subjected to being tossed to and fro, carried about by a variety of winds that blow about us. If/when we place virtue and efficacy of our prayers on how we feel at that moment, we inadvertently cripple ourselves by the very act by which we are meant to be drawn deeper into rest in God. We also end up attempting to accomplish by our own strength the things for which we pray. “When they meant to pray for courage, let them really be trying to feel brave,” advises Screwtape. And this way of thinking makes sense, if we need to hype ourselves and God up that he might give notice. This is like the prophets of Baal (1Kings 18) who danced around their altar, slashed and cut themselves, shouted and cried out in hopes that Baal would hear them. Elijah even derides them saying that they need to shout louder, just in case Baal is on the toilet. Yet with Elijah, there is no pomp and circumstance. The “efficacy” of his prayer is not bound to his performance nor how much he might feel his prayer working. Rather, “at the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, Elijah came near and said, ‘Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel…’” Simple words, offered unto God with a posture of body that reflects the posture of the soul. This is a reason why there is such goodness in praying the Psalms, praying the Collects, and other composed prayers. Though they are written prayers, there is a simplicity to them, a deep richness and beauty in their theology, and they can help teach us that our attention is not to be placed on producing the desire affects of our prayers. Our attention, our gaze, is to be trained on the God who loves us.

Not Taking Offense

Once this habit is well established you have the delightful situation of a human saying things with the express purpose of offending and yet having a grievance when offence is taken. – The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

The “habit,” of which Wormwood speaks, is that of having an “over-sensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention.” To state it differently, it is to always assume innocence in the words and tone “I” use, and at the same time always assume malice and intent to harm in the words and speech of any other. This habit, once it has taken root,–worse still when it has begun to sprout in the heart–supposedly hears the “real” meaning through the words being said, and those left unsaid. An example. Let’s call her Mary and him Steve. At the dinner table, Steve might be asked, please pass the salt. But his heart, which has taken on this habit “hears” Mary say instead, you knew that I have had a long day. More than that, I worked hard on this meal. The least thing that you could do, Steve, is to think of me and so place the salt where it is easy to reach. In fact, you could have even offered it to me before I asked. Is that too much to ask? And so, Steve hears in Mary’s tone a grumble, a complaint, a hint of dissatisfaction, annoyance, and irritation. Of course, in all of this, Mary simply wanted the salt and so she asked for it.

The reason these types of circumstances arise–and we have all experienced something like them to a certain degree–is because love is lacking. For, to presume Mary’s intent as Steve does–to have this habit established–is only the working out of a lack of love. It may even be the case that Steve, in some way, is animated by hatred toward Mary, though not in the fullest and most cruel sense of the word. For what else can explain why he would willingly presume negatively on her when so simple a request–please pass the salt–was made? (Certainly, in other situations, “Mary” may speak out of hatred towards Steve. And so, in such circumstances, she is trying to communicate her irritation, if not disdain, for “Steve,” all the while not saying it outright. But that is not the scenario we consider here.)

Holy living, when it comes to our speech and our listening, sprouts forth out of the love God has for us. And from this soil of divine love grows our love for others. This means that as those who speak, we are able–and ought–to say words of blessing and encouragement to others and be honest with our intentions. We also are able to say things that are true, and at times hard for others to receive, all the while there being no animus in our heart. Do you think Jesus hated the woman caught in adultery when he said Go and sin no more? (Jn 8) Was it not, rather, love at work, naming her actions as sin and forgiving her all the same? So, holy living regarding our speech, sets out to speak the truth having first loved the other.

Holy living, when it comes to our listening to others, does not seek to be offended by others, fabricating false intentions in order for the listener to lash out in return. Rather, holy living regarding our listening is patient. It gives room to the one speaking. It desires to hear from the other. And, when words are spoken which can be taken either negatively or positively, it presumes–its first and immediate inclination is–to side with the positive interpretation of the words. In the case of Mary and Steve, Steve would have simply assumed that all Mary wanted was the salt. Period. No ulterior motive. No encoded message to decipher. While this little scenario with Mary and Steve and the salt may seem rather innocuous, the habits of the heart are shaped in deep ways by such small, and seemingly insignificant, experiences, just as a river carves its way deep into the rock only by its simple, persistent trickle.

So, rather than saying things with the express purpose of offending and yet having a grievance when offence is taken, as Screwtape encourages Wormwood, instill in your hearts, through habit, a holy love of one another, that we might speak truthfully and listen with humility.

Addressing Disappointment

“In every department of life [disappointment] marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. [God] takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His ‘free’ lovers and servants–‘sons’ is the word He uses...” – The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

Screwtape urges his nephew, Wormwood, to heighten the man’s [over whom Wormwood is charged] disappointment in the Christian faith. It does not matter really what the disappoint is over, but the focus is to be placed on the incongruence of the initial dreamy aspirations which have given way to the “laborious doing.” (We might call this “laborious doing” the persevering in the faith. The long obedience in the same direction.) The temptation is for Wormwood to insinuate that the incongruence–the disappointment–is a sign that this Christian life is not really worth it.

As humans, we all face disappointments of various kinds. We all have dreamy aspirations of one sort which, at some point, give way to the harder, yet still good, work of perseverance through the disappointment. When it comes to the Christian life, maybe one’s aspirations were that life would get easier; or that all–or at least most–of life’s problems would be sorted out. Maybe one has assumed that quite quickly after coming into the Faith, all affection for sin would immediately stop. So, when such things are not one’s immediate reality, disappointment creeps in. It can be exasperated all the more when one becomes aware that, to make headway in these areas of life, there is a “laborious doing” in which one needs to engage. A putting the hand to the plow. Or as St. Paul has said: “Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness.” (Rom 6:13)

Why, we might ask, does God not simply snap his fingers together–or whatever the divine equivalent might be–and simply do away with all disordered affections? For certainly if that was how God ran things, there would be little if any risk of one walking away from the Faith. Screwtape instructs us: “[God] takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His ‘free’ lovers and servants–‘sons’ is the word He uses...” For our good and to the glory of God, he desires relationships with those who have received the blessing of being made in his image. And, so that this may be an honest and loving relationship–not an abusive one–the Lord desires “free lovers.” Disappointment, when left unchecked, can wreak havoc in this relationship. And, to make clear that the Lord is no prude, one simply needs to read–and ought to pray–the Psalms. They are chock-full of one’s disappointment. That disappointment is, at times, directed at God. But, they also shine a light forward: disappointment gives way to faith, hope, and love, just as the darkness of night gives way to the dawn of the morning. Or, in the words of Screwtape, the Psalms provide us a way to move from the initial dreamy aspirations into and through the laborious doing of the Faith.

Jesus, the true human, also leads us in this way. “Look to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” (Hb 12:2-3) When disappointments surface, those unmet expectations and aspirations, look to the Psalms and take up their prayers. For they are given to the Church to lead her through the darkness. And, when disappointments surface, look to Jesus. For he, too, as man, faced disappointments of many kinds. And he persevered through them by the aid and grace of the Holy Spirit.

Pursuing Real Life

"Your business," says Screwtape to Wormwood, "is to fix his attention on the stream [of immediate sense experiences.] Teach him to call it 'real life' and don't let him ask what he means by 'real.'"
–The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

This is the great temptation that we see in the garden in Eden: that humanity might pursue the "sensible" things of this world–what can be experienced by the senses,–considering and coming to believe that they are the truly real realities. This, in turn, shifts our focus away from God, and the greater heavenly realities. With our eyes fixed on the things of this world, we loose our taste for heavenly things. We become accustomed to life here on earth, as if it were the only thing that is really real. Such a way of life breeds anxiety, hopelessness, and can give way to licentiousness: eat, drink, be merry, for tomorrow we die. When the things of this world hold sway in our hearts, we set aside truth. We also distance ourselves from the life God has secured for us in Jesus Christ. We begin to forget his ways. More than that, we may begin to view his ways as a stumbling block, a disruption, to true and real life. As we have so many "sensible" things and experiences at our disposal, Screwtape's words are all the more pressing for us. We have so much that we can set before our eyes, as it were, just as Israel had the golden calf set before her eyes and heard proclaimed: “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!” (Exodus 32:4)

In light of these temptations which are depicted for us by Screwtape, how are we to learn holy living? We are to take up the Holy Spirit's leading through the words of St. Paul: "If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." (Col 3:1–2) This we are to do by being diligent in prayer, attending to weekly Eucharistic worship, caring for the needs of others. As we listen to the Lord through the Holy Scriptures, we are to take them by faith, entrusting that the Lord reveals to us to true things of heaven, the greater heavenly reality.

What might this look like? It could look like taking up Jesus' Comfortable Words in Mt 11: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." His words mean that there is rest he provides to us, rest that is from above, that may be given and experienced, even in the midst of trial and suffering. There is the encouragement–and instruction–to bring all things that are burdensome to you and place them before the Lord, knowing that he loves you enough to bear your burdens for you. There is also the recognition that you are not able to "go it alone." In fact, you were not made to be an independent being; you were made for God, to find your joy, love, rest, and life by being (and deepening) your relationship in him.

Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Let us not fall prey to the temptations of the devil to set our minds on the sensible things of the earth.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+