+Z’ev

Today’s assigned readings:

2 Kings 23:36-24:17, 1 Corinthians 12:12-26, Matthew 9:27-34

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”
1 Corinthians 12:21

I was once a member of the One True Church. We were quite convinced that everyone else who claimed to be Christian was off-center just enough to be wrong. And a lot (maybe most) of those were wrong enough to be damned. That God he brought us to the True Church, founding on Jesus and the Bible, where worship was just as he (Jesus) had told his disciples it was supposed to be. We heard these verses from St Paul and looked around the room and were blessed.

We were not like the Methodists or Presbyterians - God’s Frozen Chosen - with their lifeless services and Spiritless doctrines. We didn’t speak in tongues or deliver new “prophecies” like those misled-by-demons Pentecostals. We didn’t ordain women or gays like the Episcopalians. We didn’t over-inflate the virgin at Christmas like the Roman Catholics. And the Orthodox didn’t enter our thoughts. Because, of course, we were members of the Southern Baptist Convention. We heard these verses from St Paul and looked around the room and were blessed because we were sure that Pastor Ron had some gifts and the kind old ladies in the 3rd pew were hands (at least when it came to cooking the Covered Dish Suppers) and the Men’s Fellowship Breakfast was the hands when it came to building the barn or fixing Pastor’s car. The feet were clearly the youth group. And some place in the choir there was at least one ear that wasn’t tin.

Oddly, among my hyper-pious Orthodox friends, I heard the same language 22 years later when I joined the Orthodox church.

The Romans, too, have a True Church. They are not even convinced the rest of us have churches at all. We’re relegated to Ecclesial Communities.

The ecclesial communities which have not preserved the valid Episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the Eucharistic mystery, are not Churches in the proper sense; however, those who are baptized in these communities are, by Baptism, incorporated in Christ and thus are in a certain communion, albeit imperfect, with the Church.”

(I love this “greeting” of the Pope. It comes with a built in backslap: Dear Delegates of the Orthodox Churches, of the Oriental Orthodox Churches and of the Ecclesial Communities of the West, I greet you with joy a few days after my election.

And to be fair - I was in the wrong circles most of the time. There are many places where such isn’t true: even here in Asheville, the Baptists and the Greek Orthodox hang out with the Episcopalians. Let’s not talk about the Russians, though: they don’t even hang out with the Greeks.

Don’t get me wrong: I want to be a member of the True Church.

Or do I?

To be fair, on some days you can even find a Methodist who feels this way about some other Methodist. Some African Anglicans feel this way about some American Episcopalians. Some liberals feel this way about some conservatives and quite a lot of Protestants feel that way about Rome.

Most of us are, to one degree or another, convinced that we are right. And even though, in reality, we might only be an unsightly case of acne on the Body of Christ, we’re quite willing to assume we’re the head and that we have no need of the back hair.

I long for the ability to say to my conservative brothers and sisters that I love them.

I long for that same ability in regard to my liberal friends.

I greatly desire the ability to say “I love you” to people who think I’m going to hell and tell me in forcible language designed to push all my buttons and make me do something worthy of damnation.

But most of the time I end up settling with joining another “True Church”.

From the outside looking in, we’re all one batch. The non-Christians can’t tell the difference between the Pope and Gene Robinson. The non-Christians don’t even want to understand the differences between Katherine Jefferts Scolari and Jerry Falwell. All they see is a collar and a cross, all they hear is “Jesus” and they turn off. The evangelical invitation to dance around the altar of St Gregory of Nyssa Church might as well be an invite to a Cross Burning in some ears. Most people on the street can’t tell the difference between Roman Catholics, sedevacantist Catholics, Old Catholics and sundry Catholics with such roots in the USA. Ask someone where the local Catholic church is and they’re likely to point to the nearest sign that says “Catholic” without regard to who is inside.

We’re all in this together, like it or not.

And yet we fight tooth and nail over 8 letters, one Latin word, an English phrase added to the Nicene Creed. We fight tooth and nail over who may or may not serve at the head of the community table. We fight tooth and nail over music styles and art styles: we’ve convinced ourselves that “we” love Jesus but “they” have the wrong theology so they don’t love Jesus at all.

I want to be a member of the One True Church which Jesus seems to define as loving God and loving our neighbour as we love ourselves. He doesn’t teach any doctrine. He wrestles with the same demons as all of us and tells us to love.

But there are so many flavours…

We’re all gloriously human together: B16 no more than me or you. He’s willing to bicker over the same unimportant things that I am, that most of my religion geek friends are willing to bicker over. Some of our saints were downright hateful: look at Bernard of Clairvaux, preaching in support of the crusades, or Francis of Assisi going along with the Knights to convert the Muslims, Santa Claus punching out Arius at Nicea, Mother Theresa and Birth Control, John Chrysostom and anti-Semitism, Cyril of Alexandria hating John Chrysostom, evangelical Nigerians and syncretism.. it’s all a mess.

A glorious mess.

And God manages to say he loves us anyway.

If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

May it be true of us.

Much love and Shabbat Shalom!

Huw

Commemoration of Philip the Deacon.

Today’s assigned readings:
2 Kings 23:4-25, 1 Corinthians 12:1-11, Matthew 9:18-26

The king commanded all the people, “Keep the passover to the Lord your God as prescribed in this book of the covenant.” No such passover had been kept since the days of the judges who judged Israel, even during all the days of the kings of Israel and of the kings of Judah; but in the eighteenth year of King Josiah this passover was kept to the Lord in Jerusalem.
2 Kings 22:21-23

If you read the last two days of readings from 2 Kings you get this really odd picture. The story running 2 Kings 22:1 - 23:25 is very interesting.

From one point of view it says only that King Josiah cleaned up the Temple. But from another point of view it provides a record of a monotheist revolution in Jerusalem akin to Pharaoh Akhenaten’s monotheistic revolution in Egypt. This is especially confusing when we read in 22:8 that they just “found” the book of the law in the temple one day and no one had known a thing about it. THe High Priest didn’t know what it was and had to go ask a woman in the city.

Then follows a description of all the gods and goddesses worshipped in Israel - including male prostitution! (That would have been gay prostitution, just to be clear.)

And then they have the first Passover celebrated in Israel since the time of the Judges! Saul? David? Solomon? None of these kept Passover?

I’m so confused.

You mean none of these folks were good Jews? I don’t know about you, but I had a vague idea of Passover, at least, being celebrated for much of the last 3,000 years.

What is going on here?

In the text, this all occurs just prior to the beginning of the Babylonian Captivity. During this period in Babylon what we know as “Judaism” developed. Maybe this passage from Second Kings is the hinge between historical events (in Babylon) and earlier redacted folktales that function as “just so” stories?

I’ve seen the “official” (Hyper?) Orthodox line on this reading. That line in verse 22 that “no such passover had been kept” does not mean “this thing called ‘passover’ had never been celebrated” but rather that the Passover had not been celebrated with such festivity and glory since the time of the Judges. (Pause here to roll eyes.)

The implication, as Joseph Campbell figured out in his Occidental Mythology, is that really everything that came before is highly suspect in it’s content and its intent. As Orthodox (Christian) writer, Fr Paul Tarazai said, it’s all a document contrived to support the Israeli Monarchy. Or, is it really a document contrived to overthrow the polytheist culture of a Semitic people with the priest, Hilkiah’s heretical ideas about One God - using the young king Josiah, as the instrument just as the High Priest of the Sun used the young Akhenaten?

*shrug*

Much Love,

Huw

Commemoration of Vida Dutton Scudder (find out more about this early Socialist and Feminist activist here.)

Today’s assigned readings:
2 Kings 22:14-23:3, 1 Corinthians 11:23-34, Matthew 9:9-17

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him. And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
Matthew 9:9-11

With whom should we eat? And with whom, in today’s world, would Jesus eat?

There are a couple of different understandings in the Church today of what’s going on here. I’ve played in both camps and I find their extremities to be exhausting. I rather fancy myself somewhere in the middle - but in the middle of both.

On the one hand there is what we might want to term the “Sacramentalists”. These folks, which may include “conservatives” and “liberals” believe that on his last night with the disciples Jesus did something special with the bread and the wine and that we’re supposed to keep doing that something special. They have developed a long, long tradition of rites and ceremonies whereby that “something special” from the last night gets repeated - sorta. By “Sorta” I mean, they wear funny robes (unlike Jesus) they use fancy gestures and military processions and long-winded prayers and stilted, formal language to do what Jesus did in about 5 mins at either end of a dinner party. But they do it to commemorate that last night.

The Sacramentalists have a rather advanced theology of what is in the bread and what is in the wine. Some will tell you with pharisaic exactness what may or may not be involved in the making of the bread and wine, how much flour, how much alcohol, yeasted or not. They will tell you you have to do x y and z before partaking and that certain things - in either a long or short list - can NEVER be changed because “We’ve always done it this way.” They do this as often as they can - many will do it daily.

On the other hand there is what we might want to term the “minimalists”. For them the meal is simply a stylised meal (just a nibble and sip) of something that means nothing, really, beyond one’s willingness to share in it (and whatever faith implications that may have within a given local community). They have very little (or no) words to say before, during or after the rite. They mean to imply only the standard of “grace before a meal” if even that much. They wear no special clothes. In fact, some may have no special place in their church to do it. They will gather around dining tables in the parish hall or whatever is to hand.

Some - let’s call these the “modern minimalists” - will say this last meal is nothing special because Jesus spent his entire ministry eating with people in a special way that involved including outsiders. They will say all we need to do is eat with outsiders in Jesus name.

Others - “traditional minimalists” - will start to sound like the Sacramentlists at times - you must to x y and z prior to eating. Even though this meal means nothing it is ultra special so we only do it once or twice a year and only the right sort of people can come.

My time in the Orthodox community was on the extreme end of the Sacramentalist spectrum - where other communities might allow non-members to partake in certain circumstance (if X and Y was done, Z was ok to skip) the Orthodox not only don’t allow non-Orthodox to partake, but they will challenge you when you come to services, trying to find out if you are, really, Orthodox. Even though the Roman Catholics do not welcome non-Romans to partake, they don’t stop you at the door to check on your status. (Unless you are a politician with the wrong politics.) Orthodox will tune you away, asking very uptight questions, even at the moment of communion.

These guys read St Paul’s words as a near magical warning: if you don’t do it right, God will get you. They justify their denial of communion to “outsiders” or the “impure” as a way to protect those others from God’s curse!

My mother complained to me that she didn’t want to go to an Orthodox service because they wouldn’t give her communion and, apart from one vespers service and one Sunday, for five years Mom hasn’t gone to services with me. Try telling her they were protecting her from God’s Curse.

Jesus’ final meal wasn’t - according to Orthodox teaching - a Passover seder. Thus it was a regular “Kiddush”. Blessing the bread, blessing the wine… then blessing the last cup. This is normal practice. All the rites and wooji-wooji and chanting and longwinded prayers all are pretty. I like them, to be honest: but they seem a far cry from that “last supper” or, if you like, from all the suppers Jesus ate with his friends.

My visit to a United Church of Christ parish was radically different: everyone was invited forward. But there were no prayers (not even a “grace”) and no mention was made at all as to what was implied by taking communion. The traditional teaching is the “law of prayer is the law of belief” (Lex Orandi Lex Credendi) and without the prayer, I had no idea what the belief was. So I didn’t partake.

When Jesus *did* eat with everyone, we can assume he did the normal, Jewish things: blessing the bread and the wine. Evidently they didn’t wash their hands… which you would do before blessing the bread. But you would *not* do if you were not blessing the bread. So: because the Pharisees complained about not washing we can assume it was because they were blessing. So sitting down with Matthew and his friends, Jesus or someone else would have blessed. Then everyone would have nibbled and sipped before the meal. So it’s hard to for me to accept “communion” without some prayers, at least.

I think there may be one other difference between Sacramentalists and Minimalists. Somehow, for some Sacramentalists the rites they have evolved over the centuries are directed to God as if God expected them or needed them. I’ve even read a paper “proving” that the rites in the Liturgy of John Chrysostom are based on the actions of the High Priest in the Jewish temple. Never mind that John’s liturgy didn’t reach it’s final form until the 10th or 11th century. Minimalists tend to write as if they feel God has no part in the service.

Increasingly I find myself wishing all these people would sit down and talk together because I want to use part of all of them.

My former parish of St Gregory of Nyssa had what might be called a Sacramentalist position based on the the Modern Minimalist understanding. In otherwords they wore special clothes and did special rites and had special prayers - but the Bread and the Wine were not treated in spooky ways and everyone was invited.

That works if you have a large community. The liturgy at St Gregory’s started as a pot-luck meal, however. The prayers were simple. The rite involved the meal.

That’s what I want, at least as I see things now A community gathered in love around the dinner table. Christ as there as well.

I find myself being a sacramental minimalist. I want to see a community where the communion is celebrated with minimal pomp and ceremony, but in its homey rites it *is* the Body and Blood Christ: you are what you eat is a salvific creed. Eat the flesh of God and become gods ourselves. But yet God’s meal is celebrated in all times and places, “in season and out of season.”

I want to see a service that acknowledges this is where God and us meet as face to face: not as emperor to slave, but rather as friend to friend. God walks with us, comes to us, meets us and loves us at home where we are in order to bring us to him. The act of communion isn’t just God zapping us with a gift but rather us and God coming together and in so doing, God unites us with himself and one another. That’s the communion we celebrate.

With whom should we eat? And with whom, in today’s world, would Jesus eat? Well, St Paul says not to do it “unworthily” and Jesus says the righteous don’t need a doctor.

Except we know that everyone is a sinner. The “righteous” is a snarky comment on Jesus’ part. As the Pharisees were saying “those are sinners” they were implying that they were not such. In the implication they excluded themselves from Jesus’ dinner party. Jesus will eat with anyone who will have him.

It’s the ones that reject him that are not invited.

A side note: the readings from 2 Kings today and yesterday tell a very odd story. While they were cleaning out the temple, one day, seems they found a Torah scroll. Discovering that, oops, they’d not been keep a covenant that this guy, YHVH, seems to have set up with them all of Israel repented.

I find this strange because I know that the Orthodox understanding is that the Jews were the Church in their day. And I know that the Orthodox teach that the Church can not err. So… here’s the Bible recounting a major error: one that must have lasted for Generations involving the clergy and the people and the king! Yet when the Church of the day discovered their error, they repented.

I think I like that model of the Church better than “the Church cannot err”.

Much love,

Huw

Commemoration of Robert Grossteste

Today’s assigned readings:

2 Kings 22:1-13, 1 Corinthians 11:2,17-22, Matthew 9:1-8

“But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”, Jesus then said to the paralytic “Stand up, take your bed and go to your home.” And he stood up and went to his home. When the crowds saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings.
Matthew 9:6-8

I’ve been told that “Son of Man” is rather like “John Doe” or CS Lewis’ “Son of Adam”. It is not a title so much as a non-title, a polite way of referring to oneself in the third person. This one passage seems to support that because Jesus says “the Son of Man” - ie anyone - has the authority to forgive sins. And the people “glorify God who had given such authority” to what the Greek describes in the 3rd person plural as “men” which, of course, includes women so the translators say “human beings”. Which is odd modern English, btw: what’s wrong with “humans”? Anyway…

In the Orthodox tradition the sacrament of confession is closely tied with communion. Traditional Russian practice is for one confession prior to each communion. This is modified in the Greek practice, perhaps because of some cultural situation (such as the Turks). Today most Orthodox in America (of those who are regular church-goers) make a confession somewhere between once every week and once every six weeks. My usual practice, when I was Orthodox, shifted all along that spectrum. I found that once a month was optimal. I loved going to talk to Fr Victor as often as possible in confession. And I was a little spooked when I began going to an Abbot of a monastery - about once every 6 weeks for him.

One prefers to go to the same confessor over and over because then the confessor begins to listen and understand patterns of strength and weakness. Ideally a confessor is like a teacher, who stands behind you not steering - as if one were a horse with a bit - but rather whispering advice (not orders) into one’s ears.

I’d never had a confessor before…

When I returned to the western church I was a little disordered for a while. Anglicans, especially, don’t make much of communion. The standard is “All may, some should, none must”. This makes sense to me. So, for about 6 months I didn’t. In fact, from when I was confirmed by Paul Moore in 1981 until I was Chrismated by Fr Victor in 2002, I went to confession 3 times. Only my first one - my visit as a teenager to Fr John at Grace Church, Middletown - seems to have been a confession at all.

But after these most recent 6 months I felt such a strong pull to go again that it was as if my truck was driving itself over to St Mary’s, Asheville. I was there before I knew what to do.

Confession is nothing like what you see in the movies - or it needn’t be, anyway. “I took the Lord’s name in vain 6 times. I stole a car. I lusted 47 times. I covet my neighbour’s ox twice.” It can be that… but that never works for me.

The Orthodox understanding of sin as a sickness rather than a legal issue makes far more sense to me - and it should make sense to most Anglicans as well. I think it would make sense to anyone of a more liberal bent. Even when we don’t imagine a legalistic God, surly we realise humans mess up. When going to confession, we’re not visiting a tax assessor who will figure out a fee and send us to the next window to pay it. We are, rather, visiting a doctor: we note our pains, our weaknesses, our constant headaches and our blurry vision. The Doctor runs some tests and provides some advice and maybe a prescription and asks us to come back in a couple of weeks for another check-up. Usually results are quick-coming. But the cure may take a long time - on into the next life.

Confession is that visit to a spiritual doctor.

And the point of this post is damn, it feels so good.

Now, I have readers from many Christian and some non-Christian traditions. That’s cool. One needn’t go to a priest to make a confession. Paul counsels us elsewhere to confess our sins “one to another”. Outside of the “higher church” traditions influenced by the west, the Priest doesn’t forgive sins so much as announce that God forgives. The purpose of confession, however, is not absolution - but exactly confession: the verbal statement of missteps to another person.

This idea is so important that in the 12 Step movement - recovering from any kind of addiction from drugs to food - the 4th and 5th steps describe confession:

4: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves
5: Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Any addict working the steps will tell you it’s hard… but it’s worth it.

So if it’s not, “lusted 47 times and coveted twice” then what is it?

One of my favourite modern(ish) Saints is Kosmas Aitolos. He was a priest in Greece while that country was under Turkish oppression. He wrote a preparation for confession based on the Ten Commandments that speaks to my heart. I’ve read other such preparations that are based on the Beatitudes.

First Commandment

Have I believed in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit? Have I failed to trust in God and His mercy? Have I complained against God in adversity? Have I been thankful for God’s blessings? Have I doubted the Christian faith and the teachings of the Church? Have I tried to serve God and keep His Commandments? Have I given way to superstition? Have I frequented the religious meetings of heretics and schismatics? Have I neglected my duties to God through fear of ridicule or persecution? Have I failed to pray to God faithfully’? Have I put myself before God?

Second Commandment

Have I made an idol of any person or thing? Have I given to anyone or anything the worship that is due to God alone? Have I set before myself the Holy life of Jesus and tried to imitate Him? Have I read the Holy Scriptures regularly? Have I been irreverent during Church Services, let my attention wander, or been insincere? Have I neglected to receive Holy Communion regularly or without due preparation?

Third Commandment

Have I profaned the Holy name of God in any way? Have I cursed anyone or anything, or sworn a false oath? Have I failed to give proper reverence to holy persons and things? Have I had due respect for the clergy of the Church or hindered them in performing God’s work? Have I broken any solemn vow or promise? Have I entered into any unlawful contract or made an unlawful promise?

…

Seventh Commandment

Have I given way to impure thoughts, words, or deeds? Have I committed any unworthy actions alone or with others? Have I degraded myself in any way, or forgotten human dignity? Have I read immoral books or magazines, or delighted in obscenity of any kind? Have I associated with bad companions or frequented unsavoury places? Have I eaten or drunk or smoked too much? Have I been lazy, idle, or wasted my time? Have I led others to commit sinful acts? Have I been unfaithful to any trust confided in me?

…

Tenth Commandment

Have I envied anything good that has come to others? Have I been jealous of another’s good fortune? Have I wished for anything that was another’s? Have I damaged or destroyed the property of others? Have I wished for things God has not given me, or been discontented with my lot? Have I been stingy? Have I held back anything due another? Have I hoped for the downfall of anyone so that I might gain by it? Have I failed to be gracious and generous to anyone. Have I expected God to give me that which I would refuse one of my fellow men?

Eventually one starts to see that one has violated all ten in one way or another. And mostly through petty little things that one does all the time. But take away the title headings. Leave just the questions. Instead of just replying yes or no, think about the events you are describing. One sees that it’s not about “breaking rules” so much as a huge pattern of unloving: all the questions can be sorted into three boxes:

Have I loved God as I should?
Have I loved my neighbour as I should?
Have I loved myself as I should?

Confession is not simply saying “I’m sorry”. Rather it is the difficult task of phrasing the appropriate questions into positive statements. I always begin confession with this statement: I am not always mindful of God’s presence. Continue on from there…

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:

2 Kings 21:1-18, 1 Corinthians 10:14-11:1, Matthew 8:28-34

What do I imply then? That food sacrificed to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything? No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be partners with demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons.
1 Corinthians 10:19-21

Paul is, of course, writing these words as a Jew. And Jewish belief in demons was tenuous at best. They are very popular in superstition - along with ghosts and other such things - but demons don’t much figure in theology. I think it is valid to ask if Jesus believed in demons as we do. The gospels certainly paint that picture of him. But did he, a seemingly educated Jew, do so? (Mindful - the picture of Jesus as an educated Jew also comes from the Gospels.)

The Jewish idea of the gods of nations is strange too. Look in our reading from 2 Kings today. We hear the deities mentioned by name - never word one about Ba’al or the host of heaven or Asherah being demons. The whole thing is evil in the sight of YHVH, yes. But demons?

Generally Jewish theology seems to have evolved to the point where all those other gods were only idols (as in 1 Chronicles 16:26). The Hebrew means “nothing” - some translations say, “The gods of the peoples are nothing.”

Here Paul seemingly grants them with demonic power.

That’s rather different no?

But the text actually says these are not “gods” or “devils” but δαιμονιον daimonion which Strong’s lists as meaning:

1 the divine power, deity, divinity
2 a spirit, a being inferior to God, superior to men
3 evil spirits or the messengers and ministers of the devil

Only in the third meaning do we get to something diabolical. When then is this word always rendered demon and never daemon?

In the Hellenic world the “daemon” would just be seen as something other - lesser than divine, more than mortal, possibly good, possibly mischievous, but not worthy of worship. I think that’s what Paul is talking about here - the “powers of the air”.

More specifically, I think Paul is bringing us to a communion question. In Hellenic Pagan dinner parties, the first libation after the meal is offered to the Agathodaemon - the “Good Spirit” or the “Good Luck Spirit”. But in Christian practice, following Jewish practice, such dinner parties became communion rites. Why offer the Last Cup to Jesus (”after Supper he took the cup of wine”) if you’re just going to pour it out - sacrifice it - to a daemon? That last cup of the meal usually became the first cup of a serious round of imbibing. Cup after cup, on into the evening, talking and drinking. Such luxuries were not what Paul likes to hear about.

If you read the first part of the passage, substituting “daemons” (meaning lesser spirits), not only does it make sense but the second part - where Paul doesn’t worry at all about sacrifices of meat - makes much more sense.

Paul is saying all those Hellenic deities - Zeus, Aphrodite, etc - are not “Gods” but only daemons. They are not worthy of worship. In fact, they are nothing - so as long as it trips up no one’s conscience, pay no attention to them. Eat whatever you want and do not worry. However - most importantly - if someone is superstitious then don’t offend them.

In my journey I’ve been to some non-Christian places. One of the things that confuses me is mixing - not of traditions but of deities. It’s common enough in many modern Neopagan places to hear the deities of many different traditions invoked together. This was also common in the Roman world. The deities of Egypt, Greece and Rome were invoked together - such also happened when the Romans desecrated the temple of Jerusalem, simply by assuming that YHVH of the Jews was the same as Zeus of the Greeks and Jupiter of the Romans. Paul says quite clearly, “Don’t go there.”

I stumble around here - I’m clear on the difference between Jesus and (eg) Orpheus or Osirus and I’ve no desire to worship them. But in my superstition, I also don’t want to offend the daemons, the Genus Loci (Spirit of Place). Don’t know…

By reading “daemon” here instead of “demon” Paul gives us, I think, a way out of it.

For the pagans, when they found an especially holy place, or they felt an especially holy day, or wanted to celebrate something, they would make a sacrifice in the place, on the day or at the celebration. Christians today have this same practice - on special days we go to Church for the sacrifice of the Eucharist. But Paul’s Eucharist was not the High Mass or Divine Liturgy of later centuries. Paul would have know only a dinner meal with special prayers over the cup and bread.

Take his example, I think: and the next time I’m in an especially holy time or place, I may take out the Didache and have a dinner party with friends.

Much love,

Huw