Saturday evening I went to Columbus with a friend to go to Gallery Hop. Gallery Hop is held every first Saturday evening of the month in the Short North (Arts District). All of the art galleries and little shops open up all evening and welcome the thousands of people who brave the cold or heat or rain or snow to see the new wares and exhibits.

The Short North neighborhood is just north of the downtown business district of the city, and is home to the “gayborhood” of Columbus, as arts districts tend to play double duty in this regard.

The neighborhood is known not only for its dining, shopping, and art galleries, but also for the public art that speckles the neighborhood on the sides of buildings and standing alone.

It’s also known for its architecture, both old and new, like the Greater Columbus Convention Center.

Standing guard at the edge of the neighborhood, between the Short North and the business district…

…is The Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, in all of its resplendent glory.

You might think I look a little upset in the picture. Well, I am, a bit, as I’m never able to find the church open to see inside of it. I have heard that it is beautiful, but that may just be mythology, because I wonder sometimes if anyone ever actually goes inside.

A friend of mine (we’ve lost touch over the last couple of years) was leaving a bar in the neighborhood a few years ago, and was attacked in the street, beaten, and left for dead. Several ribs were broken, and one of his lungs collapsed. He was not robbed.

A kid that I watched grow up here in my small town had a really, really rough family. After being yanked out of it and into foster care while in high school, things got really bad for him. I hadn’t seen him for quite some time, and one day I heard a rumor that he was selling his body in Columbus. I was up there once a couple of years ago, eating at a popular bar in the neighborhood, and it was confirmed. He was selling his body- his soul- by the men’s bathroom.

The number three killer of young gay people, behind suicide and STDs, is drug abuse and overdose. There is a subculture of drug use in the Short North that rivals that of many larger communities in the US.

There is a large number of homeless people in Columbus, and the majority of them gather downtown in the business district, and up High St. around the Short North. You cannot walk a block without seeing a person in this condition.

Why do I say all of this after posting some neat photographs? The imagery in the last pictures says a lot to me. Just beyond the surface glitz and lights of the Short North is The Annunication Greek Orthodox Cathedral, positioned on the edge between the normal world, and the world that is the Short North. It rises beyond the border land that it inhabits “to the heavens above,” its domes and towers seemingly reaching for God himself. What if, instead of reaching to the sky, the arms of the Church reached horizontally- out, as it were, to both people in the “normal” world and to the people on the fringe? You have probably figured out by now that I am not speaking specifically about the Cathedral in the pictures.

What a privilege, and what a grave responsibility, it is to be positioned in the borderlands between normality and the forgotten.

Pax et bonum.

There are three major monotheistic religious traditions in the world: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. All three traditions have had in their history, and continue to have within them today to varying degrees, internal movements which seek to deepen the mystical qualities of the particular faith. Islam and Christianity, curiously, have similar movements which characterize this move toward mysticism.

“Mysticism” comes from a Greek word which means “concealed,” or “secret” (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.) Mysticism may be generally defined as “a constellation of distinctive practices, discourses, texts, institutions, traditions, and experiences aimed at human transformation, variously defined in different traditions” (Stanford). Elements of this descriptive definition may be found within many religious traditions. Nearly all Eastern religious traditions have movements within that subscribe to part or all of these characteristics. It can be surmised, then, that there is something about human nature, or something in human psychology, that makes humans feel drawn to these secret, concealed elements of religious practice.

The notion of mystical practices and texts is, for the most part, absent in modern (or post-modern) Western thought. Industrialization, post-industrialization, and secularism have nearly eradicated any sense of the “divine” that ancient mystics once held. The idea of hidden paths in a tradition in this society, therefore, is largely unknown. The idea that humans should try to transform themselves by doing particular things, in fact, goes against much of Western Judeo-Christian thought.

Much evidence, however, is available which tells of mystical practices that have been present throughout the history of modern Western religious traditions. The eradication of the mystical paradigm did not negate its existence in times past.

Our minds were lifted up by an ardent affection towards eternal being itself. Step by step we climbed beyond all corporate objects and the heaven itself, where sun, moon, and stars shed light on the earth. We ascended even further by internal reflection and dialogue and wonder at your works and entered into our own minds. (Augustine of Hippo, Armstrong, 217)

This quote by St. Augustine illustrates an integral facet of mysticism. Augustine did not literally climb past the sun, moon, and stars. He said that they “ascended further” by “reflection and dialogue”- key elements in any sort of mystical experience.

Gregory of Nyssa

Christian mysticism focused nearly entirely on knowing an unknowable God (Armstrong, 220). Gregory of Nyssa said in his Commentary on the Song of Songs, “every concept grasped by the mind becomes an obstacle in the quest to those who search” (Armstrong, 220). These Christian mystics, Augustine and Gregory, were not content to experience God behind a “fog,” as the prevailing theology endorsed by Pope Gregory the Great posited: “[the soul] cannot fix its mind’s eye on that which it has with hasty glance seen within itself, because it is compelled by its own habits to sink downwards. It meanwhile pants and struggles and endeavors to go above itself but sinks back, overpowered with weariness, into its own familiar darkness” (Armstrong, 219). The widely-held dogmatic belief was that human begins could not possibly glimpse God because of the depravity of human nature. St. Augustine, Gregory of Nyssa, and many others apparently disagreed, because they wrote extensively about that very experience.

Modern Western Christians, while not engaged outright in mystical practices, may have some recourse to Symeon, Abbot of the monastery of St. Macras in Constantinople. Symeon came to be known as the “New Theologian” (Armstrong, 223). Symeon’s “New Theology” “relied on direct, personalreligious experience” (Armstrong, 223). Armstrong relates that “it was impossible to know God in conceptual terms, as though he were just another being about which we could form ideas. God was a mystery. A true Christian was one who had a conscious experience of the God who had revealed himself in the transfigured humanity of Christ” (Armstrong, 224).

Christianity was engaged in a dialogue about mystical elements within itself. However, Christianity was not alone in this dialogue. Another younger tradition was testing itself regarding the “hidden” experiences of humans with God.

The mystic call is as a rule the result of an inner rebellion of the conscience against social injustices, not only those of others but primarily against one’s own faults with a desire intensified by inner purification to find God at any price (Louis Massignon, Armstrong, 225).

Massignon was certainly correct with this statement regarding the rise of Islamic mysticism. The Sufis, the first major mysticalIslamic sect, came into being because of social injustices (Armstrong, 225). There had been other mystics in the history of the faith- Muhammad himself “had mystical tendencies” (Armstrong, 225)- but the Sufis were the first organized group, and certainly the most notable.

At the time, the ulema view of Islam was beginning to separate it sharply from other religions, even other prophetic religions and other “people of the book.” Sufis reacted sharply to this and held to the sentiments that are expressed in the Qu’ran about other “people of the book” (Armstrong, 225). Sufis respected the prophets of other faiths as messengers equal to Muhammad, even if some of them saw Muhammad as “first among equals.”

Sufis also began to seek alternate states of consciousness. As Armstrong explains, “Sufis added the

A Sufi meditation ritual

practices of fasting, night vigils, and chanting the Divine Names as a mantra to the basic requirements of the faith and Muslim law” (226). These practices were not part of orthodox Islamic practice. It must be noted, however, that the Sufis did not substitutethese practices for other required practices (ritual fasting, prayer, et. al.), but that they performed them in addition to the practices already required.

Another interesting aspect of the Sufi movement is that Sufis were not “power hungry” like other sects and “brands” of Islam (Aslan, 200). Sufi mystics abhorred temporal power, wealth, and gain, and instead were constantly focused on the Divine Presence, and how they might catch a glimpse of it.

Christianity and Islam both are traditions which require certain acts on the part of their adherents. Dogmatically, neither tradition specifically forbids mystical experiences and thought. Christian and Islamic mystics both sought after new ways to experience God, and were not content with an impersonal relationship with the Divine, as many of their fellow adherents seemed to be. To a mystic, simple, blind acceptance of strict creeds and rituals  is sometimes a hindrance to the full experience of God (though there are some mystical paths whose gate are those very structured rituals). Neither Christian nor Islamic mystics rejected the basic tenets of their respective faiths, but both moved beyond them to a higher plane of the recognition of God. For these mystics, there was no satisfaction. The thrill of life was the search for God. It must be stated very clearly that both Christian and Islamic mystics have faced severe persecution from established organized groups of orthodox religious people for their practices and beliefs, and many mystics lost their lives. These mystics always challenged their orthodox brethren to reconsider what it was that they thought they knew about God in light of their mystical experiences. Both Christian and Islamic mystics emphasized the importance of a personal relationship with the Divine. They sought to “know” the “unknowable” God.

Knowing the unknowable has fascinated humans in every age and time. Mystics are typically not the majority of religious adherents, but their insights have influenced the greater traditions for millenia, and will continue to so do.

Works Cited

Armstrong, Karen. A History of God: The 4,000 Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

Aslan, Reza. No God But God: The Origins, Evolution, and Future of Islam.

Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. (Online).

(I cannot recommend more the books by Armstrong and Aslan if you are at all interested in a detailed study of the evolution of the three major monotheistic religious traditions.)

Pax et bonum.

I don’t do resolutions, but sometimes I do resolve some things for the new year (notice the difference.) I resolve in 2009:

• to be more mindful of, and incorporate more fully, the Rule in my life, even and especially when it’s inconvenient.
• to read more.
• to obtain funding for and begin graduate studies.

Anyone else care to share?

Pax et bonum.

I was not born into a Catholic family; I am a “convert” (NB the quotes, as a friend taught me to dislike that word for someone who was already Christian!). Since the Second Vatican Council the number of converts to Catholic Christianity has risen dramatically. This increase is composed of future spouses and “seekers” alike. I fall in the latter category.

Many people have noticed this phenomenon, but it truly is amazing; I speak of the cycle of emotionalism that occurs with conversion. In nearly every religious tradition when one converts or is initiated into a “mystery” there is usually a period of intense emotionalism. This is not spiritual ecstasy: it is the human psycho-biological process. But this emotionalism seems to be predictable with those who convert to the Catholic faith.

A brief summation of this emotional journey follows: During RCIA, potential Catholics-to-be get tingly as Easter approaches. They have prepared for months for the time that they can finally sit through an entire Sunday Mass instead of being called out like naughty children and sent away for study before the Liturgy of the Eucharist commences. The RCIA leaders tell them how they envy them, because at the Easter Vigil they will receive two sacraments, and for some of us, three!  So the night arrives, and they’re baptized, confirmed, and receive Our Lord for the first time. It’s a thrilling experience, and I say that having done precisely that.

This is the point at which people begin to diverge. Many people go on to constitute part of the vast army of regular, faithful Catholics. Some will stick with it for a year or two and give up. It is the third group that I’m interested in: those who ride the emotional high, and begin to seek out its replacement upon its dissipation.

(Now, I must confess and beg forgiveness for having rode this particular wave for a short time myself. Liturgical snobbery and false piety only looks well to the person engaged in it. It looks ridiculous from the perspective of everyone else.)

After the initial warm fuzzies have worn off, the emotions-hungry neophyte can begin to look for a warm and fuzzy renewal. Very often, this search for fuzzies is instigated by an article or blog found on the internet, and it typically is an aesthetics-based critique of the normative Mass. Now, don’t get me wrong, there is a proper way to conduct the liturgy, and there are countless ways to conduct the liturgy improperly. This is not my point.

This intrigue about liturgical aesthetics very often morphs into a type of militant enforcement of liturgical norms, even if only from the comfort of one’s desktop PC in the den. From there, deeper study of liturgy is necessary, so more blogs are dredged from the gutter of the internet. It will not be too long before the emboldened neophyte discovers a world that was carefully hidden by their RCIA instructors (a conspiracy of the Novus Ordo stench!): Catholic Traditionalism. This walk on the wild side inevitably leads to anger and despair over the current state of the Church, and questions like, “How can we let this happen?” (It is at this point that the not-so-neophyte will register their own blog and gather a small following of people who are usually more attracted to their profile picture than anything worthwhile they might have to say, but this too is a topic for another time.) Throw a little EWTN in the mix, and a pinch of Fox News, and BAM!- a new Catholic Traditionalist is born.

Having reached this point, things can go a couple of ways. The newly-minted TradCath can choose to go on with life as usual, as most do, visiting their blog and their friends’ blogs once or twice weekly to stir up their holy passions. Another, much smaller group cannot be placated with such surrender. They begin to investigate the Eastern churches, as their liturgy hasn’t changed, “surely,”  and there is tons more smoke.

And so we have the Orthodox Church in America (who has just elected a new primate-  Metropolitan Jonah, in the face of financial scandal)- the OCA, chock full of converts! For the more die-hard there are the ethnic churches, and these most especially are usually chosen from this mixed bag of Orthodox Churches. The beautiful liturgies, coupled with ethnic bigotry (those Russians know how to put gays in their place!), becomes a solace, a beautiful resting place just nigh of Kiev.

Now, please note, before clicking “submit” on the hate mail, that my little exaggerated characterization, fueled by generalities (I ain’t playin’!), reflects (in rippling water) a small number of converts. But there are enough examples based in enough of these circumstances to merit their notice.

I thank God every day that I was rescued from this particular kind of emotionalism before I fell too deep in it. Of course there’s a struggle, but I think that I’ve found my place, and I am satisfied.

Lest any “cradle Catholics” who may have managed to read this far sit back, grinning smugly, knowing that this cannot possibly apply to them, well, they’re right. That cannot (usually). But there are many other ways to ascribe to the theology of the emotions. Many times people experience “dry spells” in the spiritual life. There are times of deep loneliness and despair, and I’ve written about this in the past. I experience these times myself, times so lonely that one wonders what the point is anymore. According to most monastics, this is when we grow the most. They say that we cannot really begin the spiritual journey until we get ourselves out of the way. Our experience of God based solely on our emotions is a type of egoism. It is a kind of pride to think that God’s nearness depends on our ability to feel his nearness.

The Monks of New Skete said this:

Because we placed so much emphasis on the emotional way we sensed God’s presence, we can easily feel betrayed when it disappears, as if we had been suckered into falling for some sort of cruel hoax. Accordingly, we might attempt to meet the challenge of God’s absence by desperately trying to regain the thrill of our former experiences. In vain we strain to practice breathing exercises with our prayer, hyperventilating until we feel that “tingle” again, or reflecting on scripture passages that formerly provided us with great insight and comfort. Or we might latch onto cynicism, because we feel that our ideals have been reduced to nothing. Both attitudes are dead ends and are doomed to failure. Cynicism leads to despair, while fixating on the efforts that seemed to work in the past makes an idol out of spiritual states.

If you can pardon my bit of exaggeration up top (I had fun writing that!), let me leave you with this. God doesn’t come to us in our warm fuzzies; he comes to us in bread and wine, and in people we meet everyday in our normal, non-incense-laden lives. And just because we don’t “feel” anything does not mean that God is not near. After all, we held onto hope during the whole of Advent waiting on our great King. What did he do? He came to us alright, but as a screaming baby, born to a teenager in a cave barn full of manure. Sure God can be found in the majestic places, but, based on what I can tell, he comes to us right where we are. In fact, he might even prefer it that way.

Pax et bonum.

Because others can say it better than I….

On the Hamas/Israeli bloodquest / my emphases in bold.

After its severe strike on Gaza, Israel would do well to stop, turn to Hamas’ leaders and say: Until Saturday Israel held its fire in the face of thousands of Qassams from the Gaza Strip. Now you know how harsh its response can be. So as not to add to the death and destruction we will now hold our fire unilaterally and completely for the next 48 hours. Even if you fire at Israel, we will not respond with renewed fighting. We will grit our teeth, as we did all through the recent period, and we will not be dragged into replying with force.

Moreover, we invite interested countries, neighbors near and far, to mediate between us and you to bring back the cease-fire. If you hold your fire, we will not renew ours. If you continue firing while we are practicing restraint, we will respond at the end of this 48 hours, but even then we will keep the door open to negotiations to renew the cease-fire, and even on a general and expanded agreement.

That is what Israel should do now. Is it possible, or are we too imprisoned in the familiar ceremony of war?

…

Until Saturday, Israel under Ehud Barak’s military leadership showed remarkable cool. It should not lose its cool in the heat of battle. We should not forget even for a moment that the people of the Gaza Strip will remain our close neighbors and that sooner or later we will want to achieve good neighborly relations with them.

…

The line of self-control and the awareness of the obligation to protect the lives of the innocent in Gaza must be toed even now, precisely because Israel’s strength is almost limitless. Israel must constantly check to see when its force has crossed the line of legitimate and effective response, whose goal is deterrence and a restoration of the cease-fire, and from what point it is once again trapped in the usual spiral of violence.

…

Hold your fire. Try for once to act against the usual response, in contrast to the lethal logic of belligerence. There will always be a chance to start firing again. War, as Barak said about two weeks ago, will not run away. International support for Israel will not be damaged, and will even grow, if we show calculated restraint and invite the international and Arab community to intervene and mediate.

…

And one more, unavoidable thought: Had we adopted this attitude in July 2006, after Hezbollah abducted the soldiers, had we had stopped then, after our first response, and declared we were holding our fire for a day or two to mediate and calm things down, the reality today might be entirely different.

This is also a lesson the government should learn from that war. In fact, it might be the most important lesson.

Davis Grossman is an Israeli writer, born and based in Jerusalem. Among other awards, he has received a Doctor Honoris Causa from Catholic University in Leuven, Belgium.

Source

I’m a little late posting this, but it’s filled with good sense:

What Duncan and Minns propose - that Duncan become the Archbishop of a newly minted non-geographical province with the support of GAFCON primates such as Peter Akinola of Nigeria and Henry Orombi of Uganda - is a rejection of the respectful diversity and generous orthodoxy that defines the Communion. It is a repudiation of the role of the Archbishop of Canterbury in our communal life. It flies in the very face of what it truly means to be an Anglican. For Minns to suggest that he is leading a “new reformation” is ludicrous and demeans the historicity and value of the real Reformation as we know it and live it. The movers of the proposed new province embarrass themselves, the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion by the self-serving media coverage they have worked so hard to achieve. The news of the proposed province appears at a time when more than 28 million Americans are living on food stamps, one out of every 10 new mortgage holders is facing foreclosure, unemployment is at its highest level in decades, the auto industry is “tanking” and the real danger of deflation or a possible depression looms large on the horizon. In the global south, millions live on $1 a day, and wars, ethnic and religious violence, poverty and the AIDS epidemic continue to wrack the African continent. To learn in this context that Duncan, Minns and their allies think that the most important issue facing the church is the sexuality of the Bishop of New Hampshire suggests a level of self-absorption that is difficult to square with the teachings of Christ. And to learn that the New York Times considers the complaints of these deposed, retired and irregularly consecrated bishops to be front page news suggests a fixation on “culture wars” reporting that deprives readers of a true sense of the challenges facing the church in this country.

From a statement released regarding the proposed formation of a new, non-geographical Anglican province in North American by The Rt. Rev. John Bryson Chane, Bishop of Washington

Read the entire letter here.

Maya

4 mos.

Big of ya.

Image of Our Lady of Palestine here. May we seek her interecession.

Pax et bonum.

My parish church, dressed for Christmas.

St. Joseph altar

Blessed Virgin’s Altar and look- Zoroastrians!

Travelling afar

Pax et bonum.

My “shrine,” dressed for Christmas

While earth was rapt in silence and night only half through its course, your almighty Word, O Lord, came down from his royal throne, alleluia.

Antiphon for the Magnificat, Vespers, Feast of St. Stephen

Today is the Feast of Saint Stephen, Protomartyr. Lauds this morning remembered him, and praised his virtues and his sacrifice. The office recalled his sacrificial gift of his life for his Lord.

So why is the hour of Vespers not in honor of Saint Stephen? Why are we back to Christmas? After all, Christmas was yesterday. Won’t Stephen be offended?

Those questions seem silly, and yet they reveal a master plan, if you will, behind our celebration of the Incarnation. The event, simply put, was profound. It was the single most important event in history since the dawn of our humanity. This seemingly trivial event in a little trading town, five miles south of Jerusalem, marked the beginning of a new age.

Through our celebration of the Octave of Christmas, we recall this humble event. We don’t limit it to  one day, because its significance has impacted us forever

Saint Stephen, I’m sure, rejoices because of it. After all, he laid down his life- freely- for the cause of the love of Christ. Surely he rejoices when we remember him by day, but remember his Lord by night.

Now that all of the mundane fuss of Christmas is over, take some time to really contemplate the mystery. Defer, like Stephen, in perfect trust and humility, to our Lord, who comes to us.

Saint Stephen, pray for us.

Pax et bonum.