Blogging the Pope, iii

Slow reading now, mainly because of life outside of books, but I can’t say how much I love this book. In this passage, Pope Benedict is addressing the conception of God as ‘otherness’, and why His condescension is part of his ineffableness.

Most people today still admit in some form or other that there probably is some such thing as a “supreme being”. But people find it an absurd idea that this being should concern himself with man; we have the feeling – for it happens again and again even to those who try to believe – that this sort of thing is the expression of a naive anthropomorphism . . . . But, we think, in an age when we know how infinitely different things are, how unimportant the earth is in the vast universe and consequently how unimportant that little speck of dust, man, is in comparison with the dimensions of the cosmos – . . . it seems an absurd idea that this supreme being should concern himself with man . . . . But although we may think that in this way we are speaking about God in an appropriately divine manner, in reality we are in fact thinking of him in a very petty and only too human way. . . .

In contrast . . . . The boundless spirit who bears in himself the totality of Being reaches beyond the “greatest”, so that to him it is small, and he reaches into the smallest, because to him nothing is too small. Precisely this overstepping of the greatest and reaching down into the smallest is the true nature of absolute spirit.

First Confession

Wow. I went to my first confession today. Prior to going I went over an online examination of conscience and made a list of sins that I have committed against God. In making the list, I was reticent about whether or not I could actually say some of them aloud to the priest. Would I find the words?

I had arranged a meeting with the priest, and had a face-to-face confession. It was surprisingly easy to talk to him, even though he’s not the most naturally gregarious man I’ve met. The sins poured out of me. I gave few details, and much sooner than I had anticipated – I was done. He gave me some advice, he gave me a penance, and then he pronounced absolution of my sins.

Nothing magical happened. Yet, I know that something very real occurred. A little over three weeks from now, I will be partaking of the Holy Eucharist. Praise be to God.

Blogging the Pope, ii

The Pope’s book is wonderful. I keep finding so much to chew on. At first I thought it would be over my head, but it truly is spiritual reading. The more I learn about Western theology, the more I see the depth of love for God in the questions asked and even in the answers given. This particular passage really spoke to me:

This {the ‘invocability’ of the name} will probably make clear what Old Testament faith means when it speaks of a name of God. The aim is different from that of the philosopher seeking the concept of the highest Being. The concept is a product of thinking that wants to know what that highest Being is like in itself. Not so the name. When God names himself after the self-understanding of faith, he is not so much expressing his inner nature as making himself nameable; he is handing himself over to men in such a way that he can be called upon by them. And by doing this he enters into coexistence with them; he puts himself within their reach; he is “there” for them.

Here, too, is the angle from which it would seem to become clear that it means when John presents the Lord Jesus Christ as the real, living name of God. In him is fulfilled what a mere name could never in the end fulfill. In him the meaning of the discussion of the name of God has reached its goal, and so, too, has that which was always meant and intended by the name of God. In him – this is what the evangelist means by this idea – God has really become he who can be invoked. In him God has entered forever into coexistence with us. The name is no longer just a word at which we clutch; it is now flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone. God is one of us.

What a wonderful book this has turned out to be.

What am I worth?

I was talking to a friend a couple days ago. He mentioned an acquantance that I know through him. He said, “I betcha didn’t know he is worth twelve million dollars, did you?” Of course I didn’t. I barely know the guy outside of an occasional lunch. I said I was impressed, then let the conversation continue on its way. It did get me thinking though.

I’ve done the little calculations to find my net worth – mainly when I was trying to get my financial house in order through some program like Dave Ramsey’s or whatnot. So what am I worth? Quite a bit less monetarily than I would have once thought I would be at this age. Life hasn’t exactly turned out how I planned it when I was entering college with dreams of success in my head. Curve balls, bad decisions, and a myriad of other things have changed my life. But is this the sum of all that I am? An Excel spreadsheet?

We live in a society that judges worth by success and utility. Is it any wonder that we have developed a cynicism which often pities the handicapped, the less than ‘able’ . . . ? That we’re constantly seeking to make our kids the smartest, the strongest, the most successful. That we’re quickly sliding into a society that eagerly embraces designer children and euthanasia. Worth is no longer found in the abstract, the intangible, the unexplainable. No . . . it’s all laid out for us in black and white. On a spreadsheet of sorts.

The man my friend and I were talking about is worth far more than twelve million dollars. He’s a child of God. He’s made in the image and likeness of an ineffable Creator. He loves. He hurts. His soul, like mine, is in need of renewal that is only found by coming to the font of all that is good, right, and holy. That which pulls us onward and upward beyond this utilitarian vision we’ve made for ourselves.

Left to our own devices, man would destroy all that is beautiful in this world. Yet God gives to us – even those who would deny Him – something that nags at our core and tells us that we’re more than the sum of our bank accounts and abilities.

I used to to think the little poster I had when I was younger which read, “God didn’t make any junk!” was so childish. Now I know it’s the truest thing ever said.

How I got where I am – el fin.

Time to bring this series to a close . . . . Here I was . . . a few months away from becoming Orthodox, now experiencing a bit of confusion regarding Roman Catholicism. Quite honestly I was disillusioned by the cacophony of opinions among Orthodox Christians concerning a myriad of topics – most especially ‘the West’ in general and Rome more specifically.

It was also during this time that I fell into the deepest period of darkness I’d ever known. This wasn’t due to my theological confusion, but my spiritual weakness. I allowed an old enemy to win a major battle, and the fallout was devastating – so much so that the whole war seemed over. Depression wafted over me, and I half-heartedly tried to regain my footing. Then Katrina hit. It was the perfect excuse not to make the effort to drive two hours to the Orthodox parish, so I didn’t. Soon I wasn’t attending whatsoever. Soon I gave up and built a wall of anger out of my failure and self-loathing.

This condition lasted for months. I remember thinking when the end of the year rolled past – “I should have been Orthodox by now.” Yet I wasn’t. Not even close. My marriage, my sanity, my future – they seemed to be in the perpetual proverbial balance. Then I took a business trip. On this trip I was able to spend some time alone and think. And finally to pray. On my way home, the floodgates opened as I was pouring my heart out to God. Somewhere between Atlanta, GA and Mississippi, I found solace in God’s grace.

So, I came back home a ‘new man’. I started attending church with my wife. I was still not the ‘old Rusty’, and others could tell I still had reservations about a lot of things. However, I kept my opinions to myself and I tried my best to live a life of dedication to God and family. Yet all that I had learned, all that I had come to understand about God, the Church, history – I couldn’t shove it in some bin and forget. So, I started showing up at the daily masses held at the local Catholic church. It really felt wonderful. I attended these quietly, not making a big deal about it to my wife or anyone else. Finally I began RCIA and entered the process of becoming Catholic.

I am four weeks and one day away from Easter vigil. That is the day where I will finally receive the body and blood of my Lord in the Eucharist. That is the day where I will enter communion with Thomas Kempis, John Paul the Great, Thomas Aquinas, John Chrysostom, Gregory of Nazianzus, Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, Augustine of Hippo, Jerome of Palestine and Rome, and a great cloud of other witnesses to the glory of the Catholic faith.

Today I was at daily Mass and meant every word when I said, along with the congregation, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only speak the word and I shall be healed.”

How I got where I am – Part VI

I started attending the Orthodox church more frequently. It was a great time of discovery. It wasn’t long until I made the decision to become a catechumen. My priest asked me if I might wait until my wife was ready to convert. I considered the possibility remote, so he agreed to allow me to enter the catechumenate. This was late 2004.

I looked forward to becoming an Orthodox Christian, and my efforts to lead an “orthodox” life were increased. It was not easy, as I felt that my wife was very uncomfortable with me doing such things as praying before an icon. My efforts to accommodate weren’t reciprocated, and soon the accommodating began to feel a lot like sneaking around. I began to build up a wall of resentment toward my wife which truly hampered not only my move into Orthodoxy, but my marriage as well.

As the months wore on, I was fully expecting to become Orthodox during the upcoming Easter. As the day approached, and my priest was not mentioning it, I felt like I had to ask. “Probably later this year – the Fall maybe.” This ‘maybe’ hung over my head. Would I ever be Orthodox? I was truly longing to experience the Eucharist – to participate in this sacramental theology rather than simply study it.

During this time I was continuing this study. One of my friends on Theology Web began to search the Catholic Church, and I was frequently involved in not only trying to convince him to ‘try Orthodoxy’, but I was frequently involved in polemics against Catholicism. But in attacking the Catholic Church, I came to see that all that had been presented to me in my childhood and all that I learned in coming to the Orthodox Church was not what it had seemed. My views were changing, and I was quickly leaning toward a more hopeful view of Roman Catholicism.

One major push in this direction was the blog Pontifications by an Episcopal priest searching for his place in the True Church. He honestly was trying to investigate the claims of both East and West. The discussions on this blog were very helpful in forcing me to think in new ways. Ultimately Fr. Al found his place in the Catholic Church. I still remember the profound disappointment I felt. I could be more hopeful about Catholics, but there was no way I was going to become one.

Re-Introducing myself to Christianty, ii

[Faith's] nature lies in the fact that it is not the thinking out of something that can be thought out and that at the end of the process is then at my disposal as the result of my thought. On the contrary, it is characteristic of faith that it comes from hearing, that it is the reception of something that I have not thought out, so that in the last analysis thinking in the context of faith is always a thinking over of something previously heard and received.In other words, in faith the word takes precedence over the thought . . . . it is something said to me, which hits me as something that has not been thought out and could not be thought out and lays an obligation on me.

Like I said before, the language of the book makes for hard reading. Maybe it’s the translation. In any case, gems like I’ve posted jump off the page at me, forcing me to think deeply about what is being said.

I’ve spent so much time trying to make my faith ‘reasonable’. Turning, refining, tearing down again only to build it back. Yet when I think back to that time I ‘first believed’. To the joy that accompanied the believing. To the challenge I felt in knowing that this, my faith, was real. Real in a way that escaped my ability to explain. Perhaps it has been this – the pursuit of an explanation that has consumed me for so long, rather than faith itself. It, in essence, never left. I never forgot what I believed. I was simply struggling to understand why. And in coming to realize that the why isn’t meant for me to know, perhaps I’ll come to some sort of truce with my faith.

All the Jameses

With all the hullabaloo about the Jesus Tomb and the assertion by James Cameron, et. al. that the James Ossuary was once in the same tomb, I thought I’d try to sort out in my mind just who James was.  If anyone happens to stumble upon this blog, please feel free to help me out.  The James identification gets confusing when I start looking at all the verses that mention a ‘James’.  This is my list of Jameses – probability is that one or two on this list shouldn’t be counted as separate individuals:

1. James the son of Zebedee: (Matt 4:21; Matt 10:2; Matt 17:1; Mark 1:19; Mark 1:29; Mark 3:17; Mark 5:37; Mark 9:2; Mark 10:35; Mark 10:41; Mark 13:3; Mark 14:33; Luke 5:10; Luke 6:14; Luke 8:51; Luke 9:28; Luke 9:54; Acts 1:13; Acts 12:2)

2. James the son of Alphaeus {Disciple of Jesus Christ; Apostle}: (Matt 10:3; Mark 3:18; Luke 6:15; Acts 1:13.)

3. James, the brother of Jesus {brother of Joses, Simon, & Judas?; Apostle of Jesus Christ}: (Matt 13:55; Mark 6:3; Gal 1:19)

4. James the Less, son of Mary {brother of Joses?}: (Matt 27:56; Mark 16:1; Luke 24:10)

5. James the brother of Judas (this one may be a bit controversial, but I believe it to be as the good ‘ole KJV says, ‘brother of’): (Luke 6:16; Acts 1:13; Jude 1:1)

6. James, leader of the Jerusalem church: (Acts 12:17; Acts 15:13; Acts 21:18; Gal. 2:9; Gal 2:12)

7. James, one of the Apostles: (1 Cor 15:7)

8. James, author of the Epistle of James.

Now, I know that this thread may not be the place for this, but I think there’s a reasonable case to be made that . . .

(1) None of the Jameses from #2 to #8 (except #7) can be logically identified with James#1, the brother of John.

(2) Due to the similarity of names given in the gospels (I know, I know, I’m committing the James Cameron fallacy), it could be reasonably thought that James#3 and James#4 are the same person. It could be objected that though the two share a brother in Joses, this doesn’t prove much.

(3) James#3 is called by Paul an “apostle” in the Galations 1:19 reference. Now, Paul couldn’t be talking about James, the brother of John (though he *was* still alive during Paul’s first trip to Jerusalem), so it must be another James. The term ‘apostle’ and the context of Paul’s argument for his own apostleship, lead me to believe that Paul is talking about one of the twelve. Perhaps I’m wrong, but if I’m right, that leaves only one other James – James#2.

So, in my theory, James#2, James#3, and James#4 are the same person. That gives us two Jameses so far: James#1 and James#2/3/4.

It probably won’t surprise anyone to know that I believe the remainder of the Jameses (except probably #7) can be mapped to this James, son of Mary (sister of Mary, the mother of Christ?; wife of Cleopas?), brother of Judas and Joses.

Re-Introducing Myself to Christianity

I’ve begun reading Introduction to Christianity by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (some of you may know the fellow as Pope Benedict XVI). It’s a challenging read, though not insurmountable. Though somewhat technical, it has reminded me, so far, of Chesterton’s Orthodoxy, in its juxtaposition of materialism and Christianity. I did want to post a portion from the introductory passages:

“Are you really he?” This question was asked anxiously in a dark hour even by John the Baptist, the prophet who had directed his own disciples to the rabbi from Nazareth and recognized him as the greater, for whom he could only prepare the way. Are you really he? The believer will repeatedly experience the darkness in which the contradiction of unbelief surrounds him like a gloomy prison from which there is no escape, and the indifference of the world, which goes its way unchanged as if nothing had happened, seems only to mock his hope. We have to pose the question, “Are you really he?”, not only out of intellectual honesty and because of reason’s responsibility, but also in accordance with the interior law of love, which wants to know more and more him to whom it has given its Yes, so as to be able to love him more. Are you really he? Ultimately, all the reflections contained in this book are subordinate to this question and thus revolve around the basic form of the confession: “I believe in you, Jesus of Nazareth, as the meaning (logos) of the world and of my life.”

How I got where I am – Part V

A few months spent searching led me to a stronger faith than I had ever held. But many questions remained. I became interested in eschatology, and spent some time trying to figure out what I could believe on the subject. This led me (once again) to read more of the early church fathers. While reading the church fathers, my interest in other subjects was soon piqued – especially the Lord’s Supper. The one passage that really caught my eye was from Justin Martyr: “For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.” I began to reflect on what *I* had been taught about the Eucharist, about the early church. It didn’t add up. The popular myths about the church from the Pentecostal perspective was that it soon corrupted, was partially restored by men such as Martin Luther, and finally re-emerged in the early 20th century with the Pentecostal movements of men like Parham, et. al.

I began to develop a different sense of church history, although it was far from possessing depth. Around this time I began to participate in the Pal Talk discussions of Theology Web. The topics I was newly interested in came up, but rarely. So I went looking for those who would discuss them. I visited the Catholic room on Pal Talk – they were friendly, gracious, but too . . . :shiver: Catholic. I then wondered into an Orthodox room. Orthodox? Huh? I was blown away. The music, the theology. It was all so new. Since I had resolved myself to an a-millennialist position eschatologically, it was comforting to see that one of the oldest bodies of believers in existence agreed with me. This allowed me to be a bit more open-minded to the Orthodox Church. I began to read everything I could get my hands on. Websites, books, pamphlets, whatever – I was becoming convinced that this was Truth. One book in particular ’sealed the deal’ for me – and it wasn’t even written by an Orthodox Christian. Evangelical is Not Enough, by Thomas Howard, was the proverbial nail in the coffin for the objections I had to sacramental Christianity.

Now, how was I, in a small town in Georgia, going to find a way into the Orthodox Church? There were no churches within a reasonable driving distance, and I hadn’t exactly shared my new found interest with my wife as of yet – so I sat on it for a while. I continued the study, the interaction over the web, and began to try to live as “Orthodox” a faith as I could. A few months into all of this, I received a job opportunity that would bring me home to Mississippi. I found a parish that would be almost two hours away from our new/old home, but I was determined to attend. I corresponded with the priest and with a parishioner I had met online. Everything seemed to be fitting into to place. I talked to my wife about Orthodoxy, however, and I hit a wall. I had had hopes of her ’seeing the truth’, but she wasn’t with me on this one. Not by a long-shot. So, after the move, I waited a few months – hoping that she’d become interested. Nothing. Finally, I went on my own. It was like nothing I had seen before. Not remotely. Yet, it spoke deeply to me. I wanted more.