In the last week since I've returned home to Massachusetts, I have spent a good deal of time in churches. To me they're a touch point of Grace -- a place where I can grasp at the Divine mystery that surrounds us. I miss Robin so much. And being in a church, at close proximity to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament helps me to hold to my faith in the promises of Christ, that at the end of time all will be restored to as it was and as it should be. The world will be put to right. It will again be with her then. All who have been saved by Faith and transformed in Grace will be. That is our hope. It is the final clause of our Creed. It will be God's final act. In churches, I can cleave to this hope. Through Holy Communion, I can experience a passing sensation of that supreme union that we will all have one day together with the Saints with God. I can see the statues and images of the saints, visible reminders that Body of Christ extends beyond the earthly existence we have now. Robin is with them and with us in this way, praying for us and we for her. When the gulf that separates the living and dead is bridged, we will be more plainly united together. We will see them and be with them with God. With all my heart, this is my hope.

My Eulogy for Robin

Robin was a person who loved words. She spoke carefully and thoughtfully, knowing the right turn of phrase – the exact words that needed to be said. I think all of her friends and family will have to agree with me that Robin held nothing back. If something needed to be said; it was said, but lovingly, thoughtfully and with plenty of Grace. I have nothing on her in that respect. She could say it just as she thought it. She would be much better at this task than I could ever be.

This being said, its generally pretty hard to characterize a person with a single word (and Robin would have agreed.). But in Robin's case, I think it is a pretty easy task. There is no other word, and indeed, not even a whole phrase or sentence that so characterizes how she felt towards the world and, indeed, how the world felt towards her as the simple word“Joy”.

From what I know of her life before she met me, this has been always been so. Reading her journals which contain reflections on everything from scripture, God, her family, her friends -- everything that's worth any thought whatever –I am realizing something I've always really known about her. That she was an individual entirely enraptured in “Joy”

In high school, as I have and continue to be told by her countless friends, the love of God continually shone through her. I am told by a friend of hers, who had a terrible difficulty getting through high school on account his being gay that she was there for him, encouraging and giving him strength every day and its because of her graceful joy and love, that he feels he is here today. Her life is full of stories like that. She always made certain that everyone felt comfortable.

In college her joy continued, and gosh, look at those beautiful pictures that we have from those years. She broadened her world, outside of this beautiful small town which Robin always really considered home, and met friends from all around the country and the world. Some of those people are here today. She went to Paris, was completely enchanted by it, and constantly throughout the time I knew her, referred back to that wonderful experience. And until the night before she went into the hospital, she still corrected my miserable French..

Her work in foreign missions as a youth(well, she was a always youth) and in college are really the tip of the iceberg. We planned a mission trip to India following this coming year's work in South Korea . Our last full conservation was a 'joyful' expectation of that trip.

It was her natural disposition to always put her own needs behind those of others. She worked at Mooseheart longer than was probably emotionally healthy for her because she dearly loved the children and wanted make an important impact in their lives. When I visited that special place in her life just several months ago, I saw the love her “children” had for her and she for them. I always heard especially of Blake and Aaron, children of a drug addict, who had behavioral issues to say the least. They leaped for joy at her approaching footstep and marvelous laugh. For these poor kids, otherwise unloved and cast aside by the world, she was their protector. And she still is. She's with all the angels and saints throughout word, constantly praying for them as she did in this life on earth.

All these things she did before she met me. I can't really say much more about them. But all of her friends here can definitely agree with me that throughout her wonderful but brief life, she did everything with such Grace and love, always joyfully and hopefully. She was a truly sanctified person and sign and vehicle of the idea that God wants His creatures to be happy. The beautiful woman, whom Robin called her “Second Mom”, wrote of Robin saying that she “was like a good, clean, fresh, sweet air that everyone breathed in when she was near; like a lilac tree in full bloom, you just stand there and breathe her in.” And God, is that true.

As everyone probably knows, I met Robin nearly two years ago in South Korea. We met at church. Is there a better place to meet than that? I have to admit, I definitely was checking her out in the communion line at Mass that day. Immediately, we were captivated by each other. We spent that whole Sunday afternoon together. I didn't care that I was hours late for a party and she didn't care that she completely blew off her boss' plans for that afternoon. We really liked each other. We talked about T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound. She was really into the Modernists at that time. The subway we took reminded her of Pound's “In a Station of the Metro.” I was impressed that she knew who Ezra Pound was. God, she was geek. I admit I tried to hold her hand, but then recoiled, hoping not to seem so eager — but I definitely was. Her awesomeness was pretty evident. I invited her out to the small town where I was teaching. I gave her my number so she could call me to figure out the logistics for her getting out there the next weekend.

She called and settled our plans for the weekend. But the call that should have, in most cases, lasted five to ten minutes, lasted 6 hours. I had never talked on the phone that long. I'm sure she never had either. We talked about God, St. Augustine,and those crazy Modernists again. Oh, and she had read Charlie Chaplin's autobiography. I had found my match in geekiness. But when she spoke of spiritual things, I sensed a grace and joy, that I had and probably will never find in another person. That night it became clear for us that it would not be long before we would fall in love. Really, I fell in love with her that night. It was clear that we had deep connection.

The next Saturday morning was our first date. It was clear day, warm for November, and we climbed a mountain and visited a Buddhist shrine-- a really holy place. At the bottom of the mountain, after sharing with her the beauty of the ocean which it over-looked, I held her hand for the first time. The glow that appeared on her face then never left it, until less than a week ago, when I held her hands and kissed her forehead and watched her slip away. That day, aside from our wedding and engagement, is the most joyous in my life. And it was to her as well. It has left an indelible mark of Grace upon my soul.

Within a day we had kissed and within several, we were saying, “I love you.” As far as it is possible outside of the movies, this was love at first sight. That week she wrote me,

“I hide my hands in the pockets
of my jacket, my jeans, or
behind my back.

What is written on my palms
that I don't want others to penetrate?

Perhaps it is the quicksilver beam of your eye
bright to behold, and so beautiful
I hesitate to share it.

Perhaps my hands bear your signature.
Should anyone see it,
they would see right through me.”

The night I proposed to her in Beijing, the night sky was filled with fireworks celebrating the Lunar New Year. The night was freezing. We cuddled on the floor near the window, watching the fireworks. I got up on the pretense of getting a cup of tea that had long since gone cold from the nightstand. I bent on one knee and asked, “We will you marry me.” She said, “Of course, I will.” There was no doubt in her mind that I was going to ask her then. Our love was predestined before the foundation of the world and God gave us each other. I hate cliché but in every sense it was meant to be. My life was indelibly changed by Robin and continues to be.

The day we were married, Rob, the rector at Grace Episcopal Church in Amherst said that God had brought Robin and me together for our salvation, and, in turn for the salvation of the world. And that is true. The love Robin and I shared cannot be measured in the time, for time is human invention, and human inventions cannot measure things that are of God. And our love was of God. I am thankful for every bit of it. We all should be. In the last two years before she left, she was happy beyond all imagining. It was the result of a deep indwelling of Grace. A grace that touched me profoundly. Our love was sacred.. Sacramental, even. God ministered himself to us, through our love. We prayed together almost every night when we were together. The Book of Common Prayer Compline service was our daily bedtime routine. And when she lay dying, I spoke the words of the Nunc Dimmitis:

Lord, you now have set your servant free *
   to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
   whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations, *
   and the glory of your people Israel.

Our God is good and the fact that He gave Robin to us really shows us that. Why He took her away, we can't begin to fathom and we're not meant to. It is all too big for us to understand. But we can trust that she is with Jesus, as she always was, walking with His saints, praying for us like we did for her when she lay in that hospital bed. Robin's prayers will help us get through all this. In the coming Kingdom we'll be with her and she'll tell us how good and strong we all were when she was taken by our eternal father. We have to have faith that this is true. Death can only have its full meaning in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection. I love you and I miss you, Robin. I can't wait to see you one day.

The Four Stages According to Saint Teresa of Avila

One the greatest works of literature to have come out of the 16th century Counter-Reformation, is the Autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila. More than a narrative description of external events in her own life, it follows her spiritual development from the dryness of a reluctant novice to a woman so enraptured with the love God, that if we share her Faith, we can only attribute it to the supernatural. Within the narrative framework of this book, she sets out to describe the four stages of prayer, the later advancing from the earlier. A cursory Protestant reading of this, will, I think, hastily presume a modern Roman Catholic brand of works righteousness. But, I think a mature reading will see it as an honest and theological sound description of the work of Grace in one's life of prayer. For St. Teresa, the purpose of life is union with God. This is likewise the purpose of prayer. Therefore the purpose of life is union with God through prayer.

In her discussion, she uses the metaphor of a garden; the earth being the soul and the water being the understanding of Grace. She says,

“A beginner must look on himself as one setting out to make a garden for His Lord's pleasure, on most unfruitful soil which abounds in weeds. His Majesty roots up the weeds and will put in good plants instead.”

The first stage consists of drawing, or attempting to draw, water from a well by one's own effort. She calls this “the First Water” or “mental prayer. In it, we withdraw our minds from the outside world, and focus our minds upon seeking penitence and meditating upon Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. This is a slow and painful stage, in which we are filled 'drop by drop'. There is considerable strain involved. But through these efforts we can draw up some of our inward understanding of Grace. She says, “We shall do alright if we walk in righteousness and cling to virtue, but we shall advance at a snail's pace. Freedom of spirit is not to be had in that way.” God has placed the water in the well of our garden. At other times, the well is dry and we must await more water. It is not helpful or healthy to grasp at the water that isn't there. We must wait for the well to again fill up before we can again draw water. God sometimes suspends our understanding. We must accept this. We must wait and prepare our garden for the life sustaining water. This stage, or beginning method is useful at first, and all men will have to fall back on it in their prayer life, but it is the lowest stage and least effective.

The stages of prayer, I think, correlate with the stages in our personal sanctification. According to the process outlined in by St. Paul, this 'First Water' correlates with Gal. 2:17-19. In apprehending Christ, in his Sacrifice, we are made aware of our sinfulness and are made capable of faith. If we don't hold the Reformed doctrine of the Perseverance of the Saints, we believe that we can go back to this stage continually throughout our lives, even after our Baptism. St. Teresa admits that she from time to time falls back to this stage, and indeed, all men do. She says,

“The soul's growth is not like the body's (…). A child that has grown up and whose body has formed does not shrink and become small again. But this may, by Lord's will, happen to the soul, a I know by my own experience.”

Still maintaining the metaphor of a garden, she describes the second stage as drawing water by means of a “windlass” (which evidently is a kind of pulley). In this way we are aided, by God, in our drawing of understanding. This is the “prayer of quiet”. Much less labor is now required, “the soul becomes recollected”, and one begins “to come in contact with the supernatural. One still strains but the burden is much less. We are starting to be won over by the divine and we have a greater and more frequent understanding of things. “On arriving at this state, the soul begins to lose desire for earthly things.” We begin to become detached. There are fewer and fewer distractions. We are given over to a state of quietude. After our justification, we begin our process of sanctification. We are given over to Christ and are are transformed, through Him, into more perfect people. In this stage, we are interiorly made aware of our transformation.

The third stage is described as a garden which has been irrigated. We no longer must continually strain but leave our soul open to understanding. The Lord takes over our work and becomes a gardener Himself. We are essentially enraptured and in a state of perfect joy. The garden is beginning to flower. “The soul 's humility is now greater and more profound than it was before. It clearly sees that it has done nothing except consent to the Lord's granting it graces, and embraces it with its will.” Like the Eastern hesychasts, St. Teresa admits that a perfect union with God is possible in this lifetime, at least temporarily. This stage is almost a complete union, except that one is conscious of this rapture.

The fourth stage is this union. She likens it to rain falling upon the garden. We make no effort, no strain. We are completely enraptured. This rapture is a result of a perfect, though, temporary union with God. It is a special grace. She compares the union with God to a blazing fire and the state of one's soul to slug of iron. In this fire the iron slug will change its nature and glow. This is the soul enraptured. Both Martin Luther and Thomas a Kempis use similar analogies to describe the union of man and God. In this state we can no longer consciously analyze our experience. In this way it differs from the third stage, though it is contingent on that earlier stage. Such a stage is brief. St. Teresa herself says he has only experienced it for periods of less than an half hour. In this stage, time, memory and imagination melt away, leaving one only in the presence of God. It is as if one has been lifted into heaven. What an amazing thing this must be – to be swept into such ecstasy! This has been the goal of mystical prayer, even before the rise of the Church. The Hindu The Upanishads are all about this sort of union and so is the entire Buddhist ascetic tradition. But what makes St. Teresa's and the broader Carmelite tradition different is its center in Christ, it focus on humility, and waiting. It is centered Biblically and I believe, it is based in something authentic, something that St. Teresa and countless saints have experienced.

Institutes of the Christian Religion; Book I, Chap. VII

In this chapter, which I feel is crucial to the shape of the Protestant/ Reformed doctrine of scriptural authority, Calvin argues that scripture has authority over and above that of the Church and that the Church itself is grounded in the scriptures. The scriptures hold authority by virtue of them having been given by God. He says, “Hence the Scriptures have full authority among believers only when men regard them as having sprung from heaven, as if there the living words were heard.” For Calvin, as with the other Reformers, the Scriptures have final and absolute authority-- Sola Scriptura-- they are the very words of God, or at least the closest we have to them.

But this reading of scriptural authority creates a problem. It flies in the face of the traditional Scholastic understanding of scriptural authority which understood it as part of the depositum fidei,or the body of tradition including the Creeds, decrees of Ecumenical Councils and the writings of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church. This depositum fidei, was interpreted and used to define doctrine by the magisterium (or teaching authority of the Church). In Calvin's day this magisterium would have been exercised by bishops in union with the See of Rome assembled in Council. The doctrine of papal infallibility, in which magisterium is also exercised by a Bishop of Rome speaking ex cathedra, was not defined until 1879. In this model, Scripture has its authority from the magisterium, the authority appointed to the Apostles and therefore also to the bishops, who are the heirs to the apostolic ministry. In short, Scripture has authority because the Church says so. This is unacceptable to Calvin. He calls it “a most pernicious error”. The Church has authority only in that it is grounded in Scripture. He cites St.Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians that the church “is built upon the prophets and the apostles” (Eph.2:20). And “if the teaching of the prophets and the apostles is the foundation, this must have had authority before the Church began to exist.”

He then attempts to refute a passage from Chapter IV of St. Augustine's Constra epistolam Manichaei, where the venerable doctor of the Western Church seems to contradict Calvin's view. I've read this particular work so I'll quote this passage from Augustine judiciously. He says:

But should you meet with a person not yet believing the gospel, how would you reply to him were he to say, I do not believe? For my part, I should not believe the gospel except as moved by the authority of the Catholic Church. (1) So when those on whose authority I have consented to believe in the gospel tell me not to believe in Manichaeus, how can I but consent? Take your choice. If you say, Believe the Catholics: their advice to me is to put no faith in you; so that, believing them, I am precluded from believing you;--If you say, Do not believe the Catholics: you cannot fairly use the gospel in bringing me to faith in Manichaeus; for it was at the command of the Catholics that I believed the gospel;--Again, if you say, You were right in believing the Catholics when they praised the gospel, but wrong in believing their vituperation of Manichaeus: do you think me such a fool as to believe or not to believe as you like or dislike, without any reason? It is therefore fairer and safer by far for me, having in one instance put faith in the Catholics, not to go over to you, till, instead of bidding me believe, you make me understand something in the clearest and most open manner. To convince me, then, you must put aside the gospel. If you keep to the gospel, I will keep to those who commanded me to believe the gospel; and, in obedience to them, I will not believe you at all. But if haply you should succeed in finding in the gospel an incontrovertible testimony to the apostleship of Manichaeus, you will weaken my regard for the authority of the Catholics who bid me not to believe you; and the effect of that will be, that I shall no longer be able to believe the gospel either, for it was through the Catholics that I got my faith in it; and so, whatever you bring from the gospel will no longer have any weight with me. Wherefore, if no clear proof of the apostleship of Manichaeus is found in the gospel, I will believe the Catholics rather than you. But if you read thence some passage clearly in favor of Manichaeus, I will believe neither them nor you: not them, for they lied to me about you; nor you, for you quote to me that Scripture which I had believed on the authority of those liars. But far be it that I should not believe the gospel; for believing it, I find no way of believing you too. For the names of the apostles, as there recorded, (2) do not include the name of Manichaeus. And who the successor of Christ's betrayer was we read in the Acts of the Apostles; (3) which book I must needs believe if I believe the gospel, since both writings alike Catholic authority commends to me. The same book contains the well-known narrative of the calling and apostleship of Paul. (4) Read me now, if you can, in the gospel where Manichaeus is called an apostle, or in any other book in which I have professed to believe. Will you read the passage where the Lord promised the Holy Spirit as a Paraclete, to the apostles? Concerning which passage, behold how many and how great are the things that restrain and deter me from believing in Manichaeus.

What does Augustine seem to be saying here? In its original context, he his looking for a means of distinguishing between heresy and orthodoxy. How are we to suppose the Manicheans, who also use some arrangement of the scriptures, and who claim to be apostles of Christ, are in error. Augustine's answer is that they are outside of the body Catholic, which has authority too, and are therefore in error. The consensus of faith held by the Catholic Church, is the litmus test for orthodoxy.

Calvin is not refuting this per se but a certain reading of it which was employed by the enemies of the Reformation, who saw it as a proof that the authority of Scripture rests upon the authority of the institutional church. For them it fit within the framework of magisterial authority expressed by Scholastic theology. Calvin, dismisses this reading. He says that “Augustine is not teaching that the faith of godly men is founded on the authority of the Church; nor does he hold the view that the certainty of of the Gospel depends upon it.” Rather, Calvin argues that Augustine is merely “teaching that the there would be no certainty of the Gospel for unbelievers to win them to Christ if the consensus of the Church did not impel them.” The Church is the witness to Scripture and not, as the schoolmen argue, the source and guaranteer of it. In Calvin's mind, this frees the Scriptures from clutches of the institutional church, which according to the traditional understanding is its sole interpreter.

How then, according to Calvin, are we to come to faith in what the Scriptures proclaim, if not through the ministry of the visible and institutional church? Through the Holy Spirit, is Calvin's answer. From a cursory perspective, this is no different from the classical Roman view. But to Calvin, the ministry of the Holy Spirit is not within the exclusive dominion of the institutional church, it is free. He says, “ The word will not find acceptance in men's hearts before it is sealed by the inward testimony of the Spirit.” We are brought to the doors of faith through the Spirit, not through the testimony of the Church. The Church stands only as a witness to the truth revealed in the Scriptures. The Spirit 'seals' and 'guarantees' and not the Church. Indeed, he finishes this chapter saying “Scripture is its own authentication.” In so many words, that through the Spirit, and because Scripture is the very word of God, it bears witness to itself. It does not require the Church for authority, it is an authority in of itself.

As a former Roman Catholic, and one who has not yet shaken off all the theological baggage that comes with that, Calvin's view of Scriptural authority is really quite challenging. I was taught and once believed something quite similar to what Calvin is here refuting. That Scripture is part of Tradition, and as such, is interpreted through the lens of the magisterium, was an article of my faith. To loosely quote Cardinal Newman, the magisterium was the oracle of God. This, of course, I now reject. There is nothing in Scriptures or anything I've read in the Fathers of the Church, that would warrant me to believe this particular view. At the same time, however, Calvin's seeming rejection of reason and belief in an almost fideist position, is also rather problematic to me. It lends itself to a conception of Scripture that makes it seem as if the entire canon fell from heaven complete and perfect . This flies in the face of common sense and, indeed, historical evidence. The Scriptures were not only written by men but also compiled and edited by men. The task of compiling the canon fell to the early Ecumenical Councils, which occurred some three hundred years after the events recorded in the New Testament happened. It therefore took the discernment and wisdom of those in a position of teaching authority to work out what books ought to be recognized. Calvin obviously would have been aware of this. Its unthinkable that he would have had been ignorant of that fact. However, he seems to ignore this fact.

Indeed Calvin's fideist position on Scripture explains a lot of what has gone wrong with the evangelical church. There is no center, no normative means of interpretation, and no way of stemming the ever widening divergence of belief. Of course, the Roman Catholic position leads to an ever changing system of belief, that can and has drifted away from the Scriptural center. Take for instance papal infallibility and the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. These things have no basis in Scripture and may indeed be at odds with it. In a way, both the 'evangelical' and 'catholic' worlds suffer from a similar problem. They are both unstable. There must be a way avoiding both these extremes.

I feel there is more to the aforementioned passage from Augustine, than either Calvin or his enemies admit. Calvin is indeed right when says that the contemporary Roman understanding of scriptural authority cannot be found in it. However, I see in that passage something deeper than Calvin seems to understand. Augustine sees the Church as a beacon of truth in the world, more than just witnesses of the Scripture. We are called to be witnesses to Christ, whose redeeming love is recorded in Scriptures. Being a people redeemed, the unbeliever can behold us and see the love that has been wrought within us and which, through the Spirit, we can exude to others. The Scriptures along with with Sacraments are tools of Grace which have been given us to transform ourselves, and with which we can transform others too. The Scriptures should not be a monolithic authority and neither should the teaching authority of the Church. They should be mutually dependent things. Like most things in Christianity, it amounts to something akin to symbiosis.

The classical Anglican position reflected in the metaphor of the 'three legged stool' attributed to Richard Hooker, which sees faith supported by Scripture, tradition and reason can be seen as a fitting solution to this problem. Each one supports the other as legs would on a three legged stool. This can be expanded, I think. The canon of scripture can be understood as product of tradition and reason and those things intern can be understood as the inverse. Like the doctrines of free choice and election, the terms of this doctrine can be understood as mutually dependent – a symbiosis. And in this way, we have a normative way of understanding Scripture, that doesn't lead to arbitrary divergence or the arbitrary definitions of some teaching authority. All three things stand as witnesses to the Truth revealed in Jesus Christ and all three equip us in our mission which is, as Christ says in the Gospel of Matthew: Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen (Matt. 28:16-20, KJV)

O Tempora, O Mores!

Today's news about the Episcopal Church is not surprising. It is the natural result of the church's reckless disregard for the consensus of the Anglican Communion and its total refusal of sober and meaningful dialogue. It is a vivid example of American exceptionalism. It has more than a passing resemblance to the misguided unilateral invasion of Iraq eight years ago. Like that regrettable adventure, the Episcopal Church, arguing from what it thinks is a pure and unblemished motive, has rejected the consensus of the Anglican Communion that more time, prayer and thought need to be spent on this particular issue. It's like that old Davy Crockett maxim, "If you think you're right, go ahead." This kind of bold, unreflected and premature action is profoundly unchristian for at the expense of personal opinion and political action, communion is broken. The election and enthronement of Rt. Rev'd Glasspool was a schismatic act. I said it. It's schismatic. That's the plain truth. Regardless how you feel on the issue (I'm really still on the fence, myself), the actions of the Episcopal Church are spiteful and unchristian. It reflects a mightier than thou attitude that is far removed from the humble and prayerful attitude that is required for truly Christian discourse. It amounts to the American church shouting from a mountain top, " I am a right and you are wrong." It is disgusting and the Anglican Communion should have taken actions like this well before this point.

Unfortunately, I think the Episcopal Church has made up its mind and doesn't really value its participation in a global body of Christians whose lives are biblically centered and are informed by both the catholic and reformation traditions. These people are obviously bigots and are not worthy of communion with the Episcopal Church. It is classic American exceptionalism. Anyone who disagrees with our position is obviously wrong. Nearly, fifty years ago Thomas Merton wrote in Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, "That we can no longer lean from a higher and rarified atmosphere and look down from the firmament to the men on earth to show them the patterns of our ideal (republic). We are in the same mess as all of them." In Merton's view, America has always regarded itself as new and unspoilt and a perpetual frontier. We are always leading the way. We spread democracy around the world because obviously our system is always better than others. The Episcopal Church certainly follows this trend. We need to engage in dialogue soberly and and without judgment and prejudice towards those who disagree. There are certainly good Christians on both sides of the issue. But we seldom hear from the good Christians because their quiet humble voices are drowned out by the thundering voices of bombastic ideologues on both sides of the issue. What we need in the Episcopal Church is more prayer, more love and more respect. We must pray that the recent actions of the Anglican Communion will serve in humbling the Episcopal Church and bringing it back to the table of dialogue. We should pray for our bishops, especially those who are at the center of the controversy; that they be signs of unity and not of division, that they may know the presence of Christ in their lives, that they may discern, through the Spirit, God's will for His Church.



ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, who alone workest great marvels; Send down upon our Bishops, and Curates, and all Congregations committed to their charge, the healthful Spirit of thy grace; and that they may truly please thee, pour upon them the continual dew of thy blessing. Grant this, O Lord, for the honour of our Advocate and Mediator, Jesus Christ. Amen. (1662 Book of Common Prayer)











http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5hZ7lngr2tI8fYpjZsEJFuAswftWAD9G7A1AO0

Corpus Christi

According to the traditional calendar of the Western Church, today is the Feast of Corpus Christi, or the Body of Christ. In the churches that observe this feast, there is customarily a procession in which the the Blessed Sacrament, or Eucharist is carried out of the church into the streets, while hymns and proper prayers (most of which were composed by Saint Thomas Aquinas) are offered up by the faithful following the celebrating priest who holds the Sacrament aloft in a gilt container called a monstrance. Traditionally, an embroidered canopy, like the one used in the procession from the altar to the place of repose in the Maundy Thursday Mass, is placed over the Sacrament and priest as as they process. It is a day of great festivity. Many of the medieval English Mystery Plays were composed for this occasion, including I believe, Everyman. I can remember being involved in such a procession when I was about 17. I was with group of Franciscan friars. We processed through the streets of New Bedford, our rosaries in hand, singing the ancient eucharistic hymns Tantum Ergo and and O Salutaris Hostia. Old ladies came to the side of the road bowing before what they beheld to be truly the Lord. It was one of the holiest occasions of my young life. We stopped at several station churches, and celebrated Benediction (a blessing done with the reserved Sacrament) with a priest or deacon from that parish. Like the first time I attended a Latin Mass; or indeed the first time grace led me to the doors of an Anglican church in the Catholic tradition, it was an encounter of sublime beauty. It communicated to me something of the Divine. Indeed, if I believe as my faith tells me, it did communicate the Divine. Because what it is before us is truly God.

What is the meaning of all this pageantry? Why take the Blessed Sacrament out its usual context, the reception of Holy Communion? If we adhere to a classical points of Anglicanism, there is no reason why we should. The 25th Article of Religion, in fact, explicitly prohibits such observances. It says, “ The Sacraments were not ordained of Christ to be gazed upon, or to be carried about, but that we should duly use them. And in such only as worthily receive the same, they have a wholesome effect or operation: but they that receive them unworthily, purchase to themselves damnation, as Saint Paul saith.” Well, these are pretty strong words. And indeed many English ritualists in the Victorian period came under the ire of the bishops and, even Parliament for such things. But I think that there is a great usefulness to the celebration of this feast. First of all, the Eucharist is something that we should rejoice about. So often the Eucharist can be seen as something part of routine, just part of the ritual and tradition of the Church. The celebration of Corpus Christi reminds us of the absolute holiness of the Eucharist and that it is the greatest vehicle of Grace in our common life as Christians. Also, it is a visual reminder of what we should do at all times as Christians; that is, that we should exit the doors of the church transformed by and into the Body of Christ. To quote the Eastern Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann, “we are what we eat.” Aside from being an opportunity for adoring Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, I think this is a very helpful way of thinking about this particular feast. I will not be able to participate in the celebration of Corpus Christ outside of the Divine Office today but I will certainly rejoice with the Church today. Truly Christ gives Himself to us in this sacrament and that is definitely something worth rejoicing.



Praise and glory to you creator Spirit of God;
you make our bread Christ's body
to heal and reconcile
and to make us the body of Christ.
You make our wine Christ's living sacrificial blood
to redeem the world.
You are truth.
You come like the wind of heaven, unseen, unbidden.
Like the dawn
you illuminate the world around us;
you grant us a new beginning every day.
You warm and comfort us.
You give us courage and fir
and strength beyond our every day resources.
Be with us Holy Spirit in all we say or think,
in all we do this and every day.
Amen. ( New Zealand Prayer Book)

Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book I, Chap. VI

Chapter five has left us with a problem to solve. If man in his corruption cannot see God as he is in nature, how then can he achieve any knowledge? Calvin's answer is that a true knowledge of God can only be achieved through the study of Scripture. It is here that Calvin introduces one his more famous similes. He likens the role Scripture as something similar to that of a pair of spectacles. He says,

“Just as old or bleary-eyed men and those with weak vision, if you thrust before them a most beautiful volume, even if they recognize it to be some sort of writing, yet can scarcely construe two words, but with the aid of spectacles will be begin to read distinctly; so Scripture, gathering up the otherwise confused knowledge of God in our minds, having dispersed our dullness, clearly shows us the true God.”

So then, for Calvin, Scripture holds a necessary role in revealing to us the one true God. It is only through Scripture, through these spectacles, that man can begin to grasp at the reality of God. The God that shines forth in nature and in human history will only be confused and muddled in the minds of men, and be ultimately degenerated into some form of idolatry. In Calvin's interpretation, there are two sorts of knowledge of God that are revealed in Scripture. The first is that God “founded and governs the universe.” The second, which he will not discus at length in this book and is the subject of Book II, is the knowledge of God in the person of Jesus Christ as Redeemer and Mediator.

Without the aid of scripture we will fall into error. Calvin says, “If we turn aside from the Word (…) we may strive with strenuous haste” but “ shall not reach the goal”. Much effort and study may go into our search. We may study the scared writings of other traditions and may study the heavens and workings of nature, but if these things are not understood in conjunction with the God revealed to us in the words of the Scriptures, we will not be able to understand God in the person of the Creator. We will be thrown off track. God is “unapproachable” (1 Tim. 6:16). He can not be know outside of what He has revealed in the Scriptures. Here Calvin sounds a lot like the theologians of the Eastern Church, who describe God as being apophatic, that is; a void, dwelling in darkness, and unknown save by what He has revealed of Himself in nature and in Scripture. According to this particular tradition, that is why God is revealed in Job as being in a whirlwind.

Institutes of the Christian Religion; Book I, Ch V

Calvin begins chapter five paraphrasing Thomas Aquinas that the “final goal of the blessed life is the knowledge of God.” To this end, Calvin believes, that God has created all things as a revelation of Himself. “Men cannot open their eyes without being able to see Him.” He demonstrates this using Ps. 19:2, Ps.104:2-4, Heb. 11:3, and again Romans 1: 19-20. This, I think reveals a particular love that Calvin has for Psalms and the Pauline epistles. The bulk of his scriptural quotations thus far have been from these books, particularly from Romans, which the reformers viewed as a Christian manifesto. Luther himself called it the “most important document in the New Testament” and the “soul's daily bread” ( Preface to Romans).

He then begins his discussion of the usefulness of the liberal arts, which in Calvin's day included what we now consider science. Men who have studied these mysteries of nature know well of the glory of God that shines forth in Creation. However, ignorance of these arts does not, in his mind, disable the average person from apprehending this “divine wisdom.” He feels that there is indeed a certain degree of usefulness to this kind of pursuit. He uses astronomy as his example. However, like Aquinas (Contra gentes iii. 37) he feels that these pursuits are only valid when the knowledge of God is their end. Science, when pursued in its purest sense ought to have as its goal the knowledge of God in His creation. This means that knowledge of the natural world in-of-itself is not enough. When the knowledge of the Divine is not its end goal, it is a vain pursuit, and has lost proper perspective.
Not only should man look to the stars and external world for the workings of the Creator, he should look within himself. For man is “microcosm” of the entire created world. It would be useful to look at Foucault's The Order of Things to understand what he means by this. In the late Middle Ages and Renaissance, the world was viewed as a 'great chain of being', in which man was seen reflected in the cosmos and vice versa. The seven orifices on the body ( eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth) were related to the seven orifices in the dome of the sky (the planets). This would explain the validity of something like astrology which related the fate of man to something so distant as the stars and planets. But within this microcosm, according to Calvin one can see plainly the work of the Creator. This kind of notion would not be readily accepted today in an era where the existence of God is no longer an assumed premise. But for Calvin's purpose, this fact is irrelevant.

Despite man having before him the glory of this magnificent creation, he has turned away from God. They mistake creature for Creator and vainly worship the former. He condemns what we would call pantheism. For Calvin, it is common trap for those who study the “liberal arts”. And indeed it is today. Einstein's quote that “God is in the integers” comes to mind. For Calvin “nature is the order prescribed by God.” He is the source of nature and not nature Himself.

Not only does God reveal Himself in the created world of the cosmos and in the human body, He also does so in “administering human society.” In this He reveals providence. He demonstrates this as “protector and vindicator of innocence.” He rewards the good with support , “alleviates their pain”, and “ in all things He provides for their salvation.” Likewise, He “hates all sin” and “pursues miserable sinners with unwearied kindness, until He shatters their wickedness by imparting benefits and by recalling them to Him with more than fatherly kindness.” This, of course, is in reference to the written history of the world as recorded in the Hebrew Bible and takes as an assumption the authority of those texts. There are countless examples in scripture that demonstrate what he's talking about here. King David, is shown so much mercy, even after having killed a man in the vain pursuit of a woman. This mercy is wrought through God's providence. Man is pursued until he performs what God asks. In this case, being a holy king. Through such actions God is revealed in the world. He then discusses what we call miracles. These are not “chance occurrences” but are rather revelations of the love of God and proof of his sovereign will. In this way they are also part of the dispensation of the created order.


Therefore all these manifestations of the created order reveal to us the workings of God. Calvin likens God to a painter. He says, “God's powers are actually represented as in a painting (…) thereby the whole of mankind is invited and attracted to recognition of him, and from this to true and complete happiness.” I think this is a beautiful metaphor. We are meant to enjoy God's creation like we enjoy a work of art. This enjoyment is, of course, only possible in man's original “piety” and to jump ahead to Calvin's conclusion, and also through Christ.


These revelations do not at all profit the fallen man. We worship the creature rather than the Creator, “we disregard the author” and “sit idly in contemplation” of His works. Sometimes, and these are rare occasions, we are able to grasp at some kind of divinity behind creation. However, like Calvin discussed earlier, man perverts this vague awareness into something other than God. Each man “privately forges” his own truth. Every man then lives in his own folly and error “but are alike in that, one and all, (…) forsake(s) the one true God.” Not only the learned do this in their understanding of the created order but also the unlettered and ignorant. To Calvin to is pitiable that even the philosophers, for whom has such great love, fall into this trap. There are now as many gods as there men. For Calvin, this is the cause of an honest and logical atheism. He says,"And this very confused diversity emboldened the Epicureans and other crass despisers of piety to cast out all awareness of God. For when they saw the wisest persons contending with contrary opinions, from the disagreements of these – and even from their frivolous or absurd teaching – they did no hesitate to gather that men vainly bring torments upon themselves for a god that is not."This should definitely should sound familiar. One often hears the same argument day in and day out. Why should we believe in your God above all others? The multitude of divinities makes it impossible to decide. And Calvin admits that its impossible. Our fallen nature, without Grace, cannot worship the true God. With our loss of original 'piety', we are doomed to idolatry. Whatever awareness of divinity we can get out of nature is worthless because we will just pervert it into idolatry. In one fell swoop Calvin has obliterated natural theology. The existence of a divinity may be able to proven through causality like Aquinas (and Aristotle) say; however, that knowledge is worthless.

O Lingua Latina!

This is from today's Writer's Almanac. My dulcis uxor sent it to me. I thought I'd share it.

Amo, Amas

by John O'Keefe

Amo, Amas, I love a lass
As a cedar tall and slender;
Sweet cowslip's grace is her nominative case,
And she's of the feminine gender.

Rorum, Corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, Scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.

Can I decline a Nymph divine?
Her voice as a flute is dulcis.
Her oculus bright, her manus white,
And soft, when I tacto, her pulse is.

Rorum, Corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, Scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.

Oh, how bella my puella,
I'll kiss secula seculorum.
If I've luck, sir, she's my uxor,
O dies benedictorum.

Rorum, Corum, sunt divorum,
Harum, Scarum divo;
Tag-rag, merry-derry, periwig and hat-band
Hic hoc horum genitivo.

I'm a history teacher?

I've always loved history. No one can doubt that. I've never really thought of it more than more a side interest. I am by no means an historian. I have too little inclination toward the social sciences to appreciate the modern historical method. Someone like Gibbon or Carlyle, someone more concerned with the grand sweeping narrative, not so much the understanding of causality in a precise scientific manner. For me history is an investigation of causes and effects, but only in order to place them in their proper place in a narrative. It logically follows then that there are as many histories as their people. We all construct our own histories and our own narratives out of personal investigations. We do this especially with our personal histories. Events in our lives and events connected to our lives take their proper place in what we see as the overall meaning of things.

History as an academic discipline works in the same way. However, we must be more precise. We must be clear about what we are talking about. We have to justify why a certain piece of evidence fits into our narrative. Somehow or another, I've found myself as a teacher of history and I'll have to strive to get my students to understand history qualitatively. I'm not sure how hard this will be. Actually, I'm sure that it will be difficult. History is commonly regarded as litany of dates and names - especially in Korean schools. Understanding it as a logical narrative will be difficult to students who have this idea. But I'm giving it a shot.