Kindness, Appearances, Judgment, Absolution, Prayer

 

It is a basic truth that "you can't judge a book by its cover."  There is a post making the rounds on Facebook since last evening that encapsulates a proper Christian attitude toward this truism:

"One Sunday Metropolitan Anthony Bloom gave a sermon as follows:

'Last night a woman with a child came to this church. She was in trousers and with no headscarf. Someone scolded her. She left. I do not know who did that, but I am commanding that person to pray for her and her child to the end of his days to God for their salvation. Because of you she may never go to church again.'

He turned around, head down, and entered the Altar. That was the entire sermon."

Wow!  "To the end of his days....."   Such a harsh judgment.  

But is it?

Our first response might be triumphalistic: "The Metropolitan has put this person to work, punishing him with dutiful daily prayer for this person and her child."  That was certainly my first instinct.  I told a friend who re-posted the story above, "repentance is hard, being nice is easy."  What I meant at the time was "that's a lot of work, that'll teach him!"

Having slept on it, I'm convinced this is the wrong approach.  Rather than punishing the offender, the Metropolitan is teaching him by showing him the path to humility, and reminding him that Christ loves this woman just as much as Christ loves the man who scolded her.  He is placing the man in service to the woman and her child, making her salvation and her child's salvation his business.  

And why should it not be?  We think of it as punishment because it is a command, a duty he now owes.  We consider it a burden because he does not know her, or her child, and yet he is now bound to them, for the rest of his life, for a moment of poor judgment.  And yet, isn't it a joy to pray for the salvation of others?  And wasn't it his decision to enter into her world and make her and her child his business in the first place?  Doesn't Christ put people into our lives that we might remember them and pray for them?  Why is it a burden to pray for someone you offended (or who offended you), but not for, say, someone whose entrance into the Church you sponsored?  We count the latter as joy and the former as work.  But the truth is, both are joy!

His prayer for her and her child does not undo the hurt he caused.  As I've said many times, you can say "I'm sorry," but you cannot undo emotional hurt any more than you can unbreak a bone.  The absolution is not in the act, or even in God's forgiveness.  God forgives, always, and we should too.  Instead, the absolution is in the untying of you to your act of sin, and tying you instead to an act of mercy.  

The word "absolve" does not roughly equate to "get out of jail free."  Rather, it means to release or set free.  It comes from a French root that means to loosen, divide, or cut apart.  Absolution is not a matter of being declared not guilty, or even making good what you did wrong.  Sometimes you are guilty and sometimes you cannot undo what you did wrong.  Absolution is cutting you loose from the damage you have done, and lashing you instead to Christ and His mercy, and His love for the one you injured.  And that is enough.

I'm sure the Metropolitan was at least a little perturbed at the mistreatment of this woman and, by extension, her child.  Yet, our cultural conditioning that views the Christian life and service to God in terms of reward and punishment distorts the reality of what is happening here.  The offending man should be happy, even excited, to pray for this woman and her child.  He should, for sure, mourn the damage he did.  But rather than self-flagellating by being forced to ....... pray for her? (it seems silly when you just say what is happening), this man is being bound to a person whom he decided to berate, not to punish him, but to teach him to love her and her child as Christ loves him and them. Learning to love is not punishment.  It is a gift.

I can tell you from long experience that grudges are easy to hold and hard to let go of.  Praying for the one against whom you hold the grudge is usually the best medicine.  It should be no different when you think you have offended someone.  Pray for them.  Pray for their salvation.  Pray that you not be the stumbling block that keeps them from the Kingdom.  

And do so joyfully. It is not a punishment.  St. Stephen welcomed his own murderer into heaven with open arms.  The least we can do is pray for those upon whose toes we step.

Returning to Catechesis and Reception

The road to Orthodoxy is usually the subject of blogs, including this one (which started as a "journey" type blog).  The road through Orthodoxy has become a more common theme here, but is rarely discussed as much.

One of the things that has typified our journey to and through Orthodoxy is this -- nothing ever stays the same.  Things change.  People change.  Parishes change.  We lose bishops, even Metropolitan bishops. Even Patriarchs. We change priests. The Church adapts to the new hierarchs and pastors and continues on.  Sometimes we ride those waves out with a smile, sometimes with a tear.  But the Church is ever onward, and so are we.

I was asked last week to sponsor a young man for reception into the Orthodox Church.  I was, of course, happy to do it.  He attends a small Orthodox mission we're involved with, and was being received at the parent church of my home church.  He is also the very first member of St. Patrick Orthodox Mission who was not already Orthodox when the mission was founded.  It was unmitigated joy to help him enter the Orthodox faith.

 

As part of that, though, there was an added benefit of being reminded of why we're here.  Due to some issues we've dealt with, it's been several years since I've sponsored anyone.  It's easy to forget what a blessing it is, even though I've witnessed numerous receptions at my home parish in those years.  It's more intense when you're standing there with the soon-to-be-illumined.  You hear the prayers, the admonitions, the exhortations, the beckoning of the Church.  You remember the brush crossing your eyes, your ears, your forehead, your lips.  You remember the first time you received communion within the Church, and the overwhelming feeling that you were finally home.  There is always joy in a reception.  You are just closer to it as a sponsor.

I am blessed that I will see another round of these this coming Saturday at my own parish.  I will not be a sponsor, but I will see them with a renewed zeal.  I will witness them with a refreshed perspective.  There is something about Holy Week that is a relief, even though you are turning up the volume of services and the length of them as well.  It is a lot of work, and little rest.  And it is worth it if only to be reminded of why we are here -- soon, we will shout "Christ is risen!"

One thing I appreciate about the Orthodox Church and her rituals is this -- the ceremonies, the rites, the services, they all catechize.  They teach us.  Going back and reviewing the basics is good.  Remembering our own baptism is good.  Remembering when we entered into the Church is good. Looking below this to the prior post, where my own reception and that of my family is memorialized in photographic form, is a reminder that we, too, once stood at the doorstep of the Church, begging entrance. Glory to God for the reminder of that joy, and many years to His newly illumined servant, Alfred.  God is good, always.