Macrina On Universal Salvation  

Posted by Joe Rawls

The Episcopal Church today remembers Macrina (330-379), one of the few women to appear in the Patristic writers.  She came from an amazing family; three of her brothers were bishops--Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Peter of Sebaste--and she persuaded her widowed mother to turn the family estate into a monastery.  A family monastery, as things turned out. 

Macrina is surnamed "the Teacher" because of her prominence as a spiritual leader.  She wrote nothing that has survived, but her brother Gregory frequently quotes her in two of his own works, the Life of Macrina and On the Soul and the Resurrection.  The latter contains her thoughts on universal restoration, a frequent topic in Eastern Christian thought.  It is quoted below in a post found on the Tentmaker site. 


He probably gives us her exact sentiments in his own language on universal restoration, in which she rises into a grand description of the purifying effects of all future punishment, and the separation thereby of the evil from the good in man, and the entire destruction of all evil. Her words tell us their mutual views. On the "all in all" of Paul she says:
"The Word seems to me to lay down the doctrine of the perfect obliteration of wickedness, for if God shall be in all things that are, obviously wickedness shall not be in them."
"For it is necessary that at some time evil should be removed utterly and entirely from the realm of being. For since by its very nature evil cannot exist apart from free choice, when all free choice becomes in the power of God, shall not evil advance to utter annihilation so that no receptacle for it at all shall be left?"
In this conversation in which the sister sustains by far the leading part, the resurrection (anastasis) and the restoration (apokatastasis) are regarded as synonymous, as when Macrina declares that "the resurrection is only the restoration of human nature to its pristine condition."
On Phil. 2:10, Macrina declares. "When the evil has been exterminated in the long cycles of the ├Žons nothing shall be left outside the boundaries of good, but even from them shall be unanimously uttered the confession of the Lordship of Christ."
She said: "The process of healing shall be proportioned to the measure of evil in each of us, and when the evil is purged and blotted out, there shall come in each place to each immortality and life and honor."

David Steindl-Rast on Contemplation and Action  

Posted by Joe Rawls

David Steindl-Rast (b 1926) is a native of Austria.  After receiving a doctorate in psychology from the University of Vienna, he migrated to the United States and, after a few years, became a Benedictine monk of Mt Saviour Abbey in upstate New York.  Beginning in the 1960's, he gained  a reputation as a noted spiritual teacher and writer.  He is especially eminent in the area of Christian-(Zen) Buddhist dialog.  In a wide-ranging interview that originally appeared in the journal Parabola he addresses the supposed opposition between contemplation and social action.  The excerpt below is taken from The Inner Journey:  Views From the Christian Tradition, Lorraine Kisly, ed, Morning Light Press, 2006, p 74.


You can't really be a contemplative, unless you want to change the world.  You want to change yourself, and that's where the struggle comes in.  By changing yourself, you're beginning to change the world.  In fact, you're changing the world much more by changing yourself than if you're running around blindly, involved in one cause after another.  But the difference between what we call the apostolic and the contemplative orders, or vocations, is that the apostolic approach says, "We live in this world, we're responsible for it, and we have to do something to change the world for the better."  The monastic answer is, "We are not strong enough to change the world in general.  Let's change that little spot where we are.  And let's put a wall around it and say this is as far as we go, as far as our strength reaches.  And now within that narrow confine, let's change the world, make it more what it's supposed to be."  That approach has its drawbacks, too, because it can become ingrown, its own private little affair.  And the apostolic approach has its limitations, because it can become so watered down that nothing spiritual remains.  So we need the two; they are the poles of one continuum.  People who are now engaged in apostolically changing the world need to come back periodically to a monastic environment where what they are trying to achieve everywhere is to a certain extent achieved already.  And if the world could gradually become what a good monastery or Zen center is, that would be fine.  The monastic communities can provide the strength, the encouragement to realize that true order can be achieved.

Protestantism and the Disenchantment of the World  

Posted by Joe Rawls

In The Twilight of Atheism:  the rise and fall of disbelief in the modern world (Doubleday 2004), Alister McGrath(who very much self-identifies as a Protestant Anglican) explores the ways in which the Protestant Reformation, or at least large parts of it, inadvertently paved the way for the emergence of atheism as an intellectually coherent worldview in the 18th century.  It did this by de-emphasizing the sacraments to such a large extent and replacing them with such a narrow focus on preaching and Scripture reading that God became reduced to an intellectual concept, divorced from the world's material sensuality.  The quote is found on p 212.


Protestantism offered a God who was known through the preaching of the word of God; Catholicism, while not being inattentive to the importance of preaching, reinforced that message visually.  Slowly but surely, any sense of God as a living, engrossing reality began to slip from Protestantism.  The dull, joyless, and unattractive churches of Protestantism conveyed the subliminal message that the God who was to be found in them shared these disagreeable characteristics.  Protestantism has been chided by many cultural analysts for its failure to stimulate the arts.  The great Welsh poet RS Thomas castigated the movement for this failure, dubbing it "the adroit castrator of art" and "the bitter negation of song and dance and the heart's innocent joy".  Our concern is, however, rather more profound.  Protestantism encouraged the notion that God was absent from human culture and experience.

A substantial part of my activity as a scholar focuses on the history and thought of the Protestant Reformation.  As a result, I am a frequent visitor to some of the great centers of the movement, including Zurich.  I have often sat within the Great Minster of that city, looking around its vast interior, unadulterated by imagery or decoration, and noting the values it affirms--most notably, the absolute priority accorded to preaching, made clear by the size and location of the pulpit.  Its simplicity is admirable, and totally in conformity with the spirit of Zwingli's reform program of the 1520's.  But the building speaks subtly of a silent, absent, and distant God.  The Protestant reluctance to picture God has all too often led to an envisioning of the world that is bleak and barren, where it ought to be saturated with the radiance of the glory of God.  Once more, it is a small step from declaring that God cannot be pictured to suggesting that he cannot be conceived as a living reality in the rich imaginative life of humanity.

EL Mascall on the Ongoing Humanity of Jesus  

Posted by Joe Rawls

For today's feast of the Visitation, Anglican theologian Eric L Mascall (1905-1993) provides some insight into the notion that Christ did not stop being human after the Ascension.  It is found in "Theotokos:  The Place of Mary in the Work of Salvation"  in The Blessed Virgin Mary.  Essays by Anglican Writers, ed EL Mascall and HS Box.  1963, Darton, Longman, and Todd.  Hat-tip to Zachary Guiliano and The Living Church (May 31, 2016).


 If Christ had ceased to be man at his ascension — and it is to be feared that only too many Christians unreflectively assume that he did — then Mary would have ceased to be his mother, our incorporation into him would be a mere fiction, and so would our relation to him. But the Catholic doctrine of the Incarnation declares that the eternal Son of God, who at one moment in the world’s history took human nature in the womb of Blessed Mary, is, in that human nature, man for evermore. […] Mary is the mother of Jesus and of those who are incorporated into him, the mother of the Church which is his Mystical Body and which, because a man and his bride are one flesh, is also Christ’s bride.
The Incarnation took place at the Annunciation, when in response to Mary’s Fiat, the Word was made very man in her womb. But the further fact of her relation to the Church and its members had to wait for the Ascension and for the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost, when the Church, whose archetypal substance already existed in the manhood of Jesus, was fully and visibly constituted in power. In the Ascension the Lord’s human nature was withdrawn from human sight and touch. From then until Pentecost the apostolic group was the Church in expectancy and potentiality, awaiting its activation by the Spirit and the communication to it of the full reality of Christ’s manhood.
When the Spirit descended in tongues of fire, it was to make the waiting group into the mystical Body of Christ in a way analogous to that in which the descent of the Spirit upon Mary at her Annunciation had formed the natural body of Christ in her womb. Nevertheless, although the Mystical Body came into being by this new descent of the Spirit, there was not a new incarnation, Christ was not becoming man a second time, he was not assuming a new nature; the human nature which he had taken from his mother, in which he had died for our sins and risen again for our justification, was being made present under a new mode. There are not, strictly speaking, two bodies of Christ, a natural and a mystical, but one body of Christ which is manifested in two forms. 
Nor does the story end here, for that part of the Mystical Body which is on earth needs to be continually nourished and sustained, as Christ’s natural body did before its glorification. It is through the Eucharistic Body of the Blessed Sacrament that this takes place. Here again, there is not a new incarnation, but in the Eucharist the human nature which Christ took from his mother is made present in yet another form, a form through which that part of the Mystical Body which is still in via on earth is repeatedly sustained and renewed.
In all these modes of manifestation, the human nature of Christ is the human nature which he took from Mary. The descent of the Holy Spirit on Mary at the Annunciation first formed it, the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles at Pentecost released it, so to speak, in the world as the Mystical Body of the Church, and the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Eucharistic elements brings it to us as the Sacramental Body.
But in all these manifestations and expressions, it is one and the same Body, the Body which was formed in Mary’s womb, and so when we return from the Altar, having received the sacramental Body of Christ and having thereby been received more firmly into his Mystical Body, we can say with a new emphasis the words that, in the Genesis story, Adam said after he had tasted the food given him by the first Eve: ‘The woman gave me, and I did eat’ (Gen 3:12).
For it is the very body, the human nature, which Christ took from his mother, on which we are fed in the Holy Eucharist.
And Jesus and his members are one Body, the Whole Christ, and Mary is his mother and theirs.

Mercy and Justice in Isaac the Syrian  

Posted by Joe Rawls

Isaac was not only intoxicated with the love of God, he was intoxicated with the notion that God is love.  This even leads him at times to downplay God's justice, as contrasted to God's love.  Quotations illustrative of this are found on pp 40-43 of Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev's magisterial The Spiritual World of Isaac the Syrian (Cistercian Publications/Liturgical Press 2000)


God chastises with love, not for the sake of revenge--far be it!--but in seeking to make whole his image.  And he does not harbor wrath until such time as correction is no longer possible, for he does not seek vengeance for himself.  This is the aim of love.  Love's chastisement is for correction, but does not aim at retribution...The man who chooses to consider God as avenger, presuming that in this manner he bears witness to His justice, the same accuses Him of being bereft of goodness.  Far be it that vengeance could ever be found in that Fountain of love and Ocean brimming with goodness!

Mercy is opposed to justice.  Justice is equality on the even scale, for it gives to each as it deserves...Mercy, on the other hand, is a sorrow and pity stirred up by goodness...; it does not requite a man who is deserving of evil, and to him who is deserving of good it gives a double portion.  If, therefore, it is evident that mercy belongs to the portion of righteousness, then justice belongs to the portion of wickedness.  As grass and fire cannot coexist in one place, so justice and mercy cannot abide in one soul.

As a grain of sand cannot counterbalance a great quantity of gold, so in comparison God's use of justice cannot counterbalance his mercy.  Like a handful of sand thrown into the great sea, so are the sins of the flesh in comparison with the mind of God.  And just as a strongly flowing spring is not obscured by a handful of dust, so the mercy of the Creator is not stemmed by the vices of his creatures.

And what is a merciful heart?  It is the heart burning for the sake of all creation, for men, for birds, for animals, for demons, and for every created thing; and by the recollection of them the eyes of a merciful man pour forth abundant tears.  By the strong and vehement mercy which grips his heart and by his great compassion, his heart is humbled and he cannot bear to hear or see any injury or slight sorrow in creation.  For this reason he offers up tearful prayer continually even for irrational beasts, for the enemies of the truth, and for those that harm him, that they be protected and receive mercy.  And in like manner he even prays for the family of reptiles because of the great compassion that burns without measure in his heart in the likeness of God.

Isaac the Syrian on Venerating the Cross  

Posted by Joe Rawls

Isaac the Syrian, also known as Isaac of Nineveh (ca-613-700), was a monk of the Church of the East, commonly known as "Nestorian".  He was born in the region of Qatar on the Persian Gulf.  That part of the Arabian Peninsula was heavily Christian prior to the advent of Islam.  Isaac spent years poring over the volumes in the monastery library and acquired a reputation for sanctity and ascetic expertise.  He came to the attention of the Catholicos, who consecrated him bishop of Nineveh in northern Mesopotamia.  However, Isaac, probably quite sensibly, resigned his see after only five months and retired to the remote monastery of Rabban Shabur where he lived as a hermit.  There he wrote the ascetic treatises upon which his reputation rests.  Although the Church of the East rejected the decrees of the Council of Chalcedon and adheres to a Christology at variance from that of Orthodoxy, Isaac's writings have become universally accepted by both Eastern and Western churches because they do not deal with such controversial Christological issues. 

Probably the best study of Isaac is The Spiritual World of Isaac the Syrian by Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev of the Russian Orthodox Church (Cistercian Publications, 2008).  Pp 163-174 deal with the role played by veneration of the cross in Isaac's ascetical regime.  Icons were not unknown by the Church of the East, but the cross occupied a much larger place in the piety of the faithful.  On Good Friday, hearing what Isaac has to say about the cross is especially appropriate.


For true believers the sign of the cross is no small thing, for all symbols are understood to be contained within it.  But whenever they raise their eyes and gaze on it, it is as though they were contemplating the face of Christ, and accordingly they are filled with reverence for it:  the sight of it is precious and fearsome to them, and at the same time, beloved...And whenever we approach the cross, it is as though we are brought close to the body of Christ:  this it what it seems to us to be in our faith in him.  And by drawing near to him, and gazing towards him, straightway we travel in our intellects to heaven, mystically.  As though at some sight that cannot be seen or sensed, and out of honor for our Lord's humanity, our hidden vision is swallowed up through a certain contemplation of the mystery of faith...

For the cross is Christ's garment just as the humanity of Christ is the garment of the Divinity.  Thus the cross today serves as a type, awaiting the time when the true prototype will be revealed:  then those things will not be required any longer.  For the Divinity dwells inseparably in the Humanity, without any end, and for ever; in other words, boundlessly.  For this reason we look on the cross as the place belonging to the Shekhina [divine presence] of the Most High, the Lord's sanctuary, the ocean of the symbols of God's economy. 

Gregory the Great and Augustine of Canterbury  

Posted by Joe Rawls

Pope Gregory I was born ca 540 and died on this date in 604; he occupied the papacy for the last fourteen years of his life.  Prior to a long career as an ecclesiastical administrator, he was a monk in the Roman monastery of St Andrew.  As pope he selected Augustine, prior of the same monastery, to undertake a mission to England.  Despite Augustine's misgivings, the mission took root and English Roman Catholics and Anglicans both look to these two saints as founders.  The Venerable Bede in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People describes some of the interaction between Gregory and Augustine.

27. Augustine is made a bishop, tells Pope Gregory what has happened in Britain, and has his questions answered.

In the meantime, Augustine, the man of God, went to Arles [in Gaul] and as instructed by the holy Father Gregory was ordained Archbishop of the English by Aetherius, Archbishop of that city. Returning to Britain, he sent men to Rome to tell Pope Gregory that the English nation had received the faith of Christ, and that he was himself made their bishop. At the same time, he asked Gregory to answer some urgent questions. He soon received fitting answers to his questions, which I have reproduced here:
1. How should bishops relate to their clergy? How should the offerings of the faithful at the altar be apportioned? And how should the bishop act in Church?
Gregory answers: Holy Scripture, which you know well, explains this – particularly the Blessed Paul’s letters to Timothy. He tells him how he should act in the house of God, and it is the custom of the Apostolic See to apply these rules to bishops. All the money they are given should be divided in four: one for the bishop and his household, for hospitality to guests; another for the clergy; a third for the poor; and the fourth for the repair of churches. But you, my brother, have been instructed in monastic rules, so you must not live apart from your clergy in the Church of the English. You must live like our fathers in the primitive Church, none of whom considered his possessions his own, but shared all things common.
Any clerics who are not monks and who are not willing to stay celibate, should to take wives, and receive their income from outside the community, because it is written that the same forefathers I mentioned distributed goods to any who were in need. Watch over their pay and make sure they are provided for. They should be kept under church rules, live orderly lives, oversee the singing of psalms, and, by the help of God, preserve their hearts and tongues and bodies from all that is unlawful. As for those who live as a community, there is no need to say anything about assigning portions, being hospitable and showing mercy, since whatever they have left over is to be used for religious works, according to the teaching of him who is the Lord and Master of all: “Give charitably from what you have, and all things will be clean to you.”
2. Since the faith is one and the same, why are there different customs in different Churches? Why do the holy Roman Church and the Church of Gaul celebrate Mass in different ways?
Gregory answers: You know the customs of the Roman Church in which you remember that you were brought up, my brother. But if you have found anything which may be more acceptable to Almighty God, whether it is in the Roman church or in Gaul, or anywhere else, what I want you to do is to make a careful selection from them, and bring them together in the religion that you teach to the English Church which is still new in the faith. For things are not to be loved for the sake of places, but places for the sake of good things. So, pick from every Church those things that are pious and right, and when you have made them up into one package, let the English grow accustomed to it.