+Z’ev

Today’s assigned readings
Isaiah 49:1-7, Revelation 21:22-27, Matthew 12:14-21

And he said to me, “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified.”
Isaiah 49:3

Today is the feast of the Epiphany or, as it is called in the Eastern Traditions, the Theophany. S’praznikum! Russian for “Joy of the Feast!” It’s quite useful for any holiday! (Purists will tell you it transliterates, more correctly, to “S Prazdnikom” but in use, it’s more of a jovial shout, and it comes out “S’praznikum!” at least from my favourite native Russians.)

Theophany is a very cool word for, unlike our “Epiphany” which simply means “manifestation”, theophany means quite clearly “manifestation of God.” Which is what Christians celebrate today.

In the West this is the celebration of the arrival of the Magi to Bethlehem, where they worshipped Jesus. Unlike the shepherds on Christmas night, and unlike Mary and Joseph - and everyone else involved in the story so far - the Magi are Gentiles. While we know nothing of how many of them there were, or what their names are, or even where they came from - in fact everything we tell about them is simply legend - the legends we tell about them are terribly important. Not because they are necessarily true in an historic sense, but because they are True in a mythological sense.

At its fullest, the Myth of the Magi speaks of wise men from three differnt parts of the world (although those parts vary, depending on who’s doing the telling). Thus, in the adoration of the Magi we see the entire world coming to the feet of Messiah in prayer.

In the Byzantine East, this feast goes even further, for it is seen as a celebration not of the Magi but of the Baptism of Christ. The theological image normally offered for this is that Christ-God enters the waters where everyone else has been entering for the washing away of their sins. God’s glory in Jesus passes into the waters and he takes on himself all the sins there as his own mystical robe. Leaving for us - who enter the water of Baptism - his own robe of glory to take up as we come out of the font. It’s a very powerful image.

Every Theophany in Orthodox churches around the world, the priest blesses water with a cross. Ideally this is “living water” in a lake or river or ocean, such as here, on the San Lorenzo River. But sometimes location and space require just a small font of water, symbolic of the whole world.

When the rite is over the water is considered to have been restored to the purity it enjoyed in creation - it is considered more than “Holy Water”: it is really water now, as God intended it to be. This water gets passed around in cups and golden ladles, stored in water bottle and sprinkled on everything: people, cars, houses. In most Orthodox communities this water is carried into every home in the parish and used for annual rites of House Blessing. (Last year, my community had a progressive luncheon after Liturgy, and went from house to house blessing and feasting. It was a wonderful day.)

This feast, on January 6th, was the original winter feast: Christmas and, later the Purification on 2 February, and the Circumcision on 1 January, all evolved out of this one. In the Armenian and Syrian traditions (Coptic and Ethiopian, too?) this day is Christmas. The Nativity, the Magi, the Baptism are all celebrated on this one feast - although they all do it on their own calendars and it’s not necessarily, on our (Gregorian) 6 January.

In all the churches this day is a celebration of the Incarnation without equal. Christmas makes a point, this day embellishes it to its Baroque fulness. Christmas is the statement of a theme but this day is the fugue in full form. The nativity is a theological point. Epiphany is a theological treatise.

It’s not enough that God has become one of us. We must know what it means.

You can already see - in the Byzantine water rites - the development of the problem I spoke of last week:

[A]t times [Byzantine Theology gets] so focused on Christ-God that it seemed like Jesus-the-Guy who went through a voice-change and puberty and acne and probably tried to figure out why he suddenly had back hair… This guy gets lost in all the Gold Icons and hymnography.

…The God I meet in Jesus-the-Rabbi is more like the earthy, Semitic deity I’d expect in Judaism. This God is *not* the God I ran into in Eastern Orthodoxy. That deity was so far above all humanity that proper theology had to make some near-gnostic statements about Jesus’s death. “Well, the Body died… but God the Son didn’t. He was still on the Throne with God the Father… where he always was and always will be…” Argh. No…
God died.
Felt Pain.
Went through puberty. Wet Dreams. Burped. Passed Gas after too much hummus.
Or this isn’t working.
And that Dead, Farting God introduced me to the warm, loving, Semitic deity

Where is Jesus, the Infant, in all of this theological fugue? At the point where the Magi got there, when Jesus was roughly two years old, was Jesus potty trained? Or was he, as so many third world children do, even today, still running around naked, without any long robes at all, so he could use the bathroom without messing up his clothes?

Did he know he was God? Was he at all? Or was he just a Jewish kid, that later knew something about God he had to tell the rest of us?

The gospel passage today from St Matthew cites a passage from Isaiah using the Greek version, the Septuagint, rather than the Hebrew one. The Greek version of this passage mentions Gentiles twice. The Hebrew not at all. The Church sees “my servant” as a prophetic shadow of Jesus. The Jews see “my servant” as Israel - which is a more literal reading of all the “Servant” passages in Isaiah.

But at one point I think everyone can agree: LXX, Masoretic text, Eastern and Western Christians, Byzantine, Syrian, Nestorian, Catholic and Protestant, Jews and Gentiles.

That one point is this: The God of Israel has home to all of us.

Even before I became a Wiccan in the 1980s, this one problem stumped me: how did the tribal deity of one, out-of-the-way people in the fertile crescent trick the entire world into worshipping him? You see movies like this all the time: an explorer arrives on some island tribe, or some hidden jungle village, and there, in the midst of that little place, is one shrine to one deity with a name no one has ever heard outside of that one village or off that one island. How does that one deity in that one temple in that one out-of-the way place get to be the God of the Whole World? How do we get from specifics to universality?

Today, theologically, we get a lot of answers from the Christian side. There are more answers in the Qur’an, if you ask me. As other writers have shown, there are more answers in the Tao te Ching. And as Martin Palmer and others have shown, you can find answers in many parts of the East

The Hebrew text of Isaiah says that the “islands” and the “coastlands” (both rendered as “Gentiles” in the Greek) wait for the teachings of God’s servant, Israel.

The corners of the world await the revelation of the deepest meaning available to us: Epiphany, Theophany.

We can get lost in the specific theologies and myths that we have developed over centuries, but I think we miss the point. That one temple in that one corner of the world, that one Tribal deity is, somehow, the God of the whole world. In his light (no matter what name we use) we are to establish Justice, Salvation/Healing/Wholeness and Hope.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Isaiah 62:1-5,10-12, Revelation 19:11-16, Matthew 1:18-25

For Tziyon’s sake I will not be silent, for Yerushalayim’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out brightly and her salvation like a blazing torch. The nations will see your vindication and all kings your glory. Then you will be called by a new name which ADONAI himself will pronounce. You will be a glorious crown in the hand of ADONAI, a royal diadem held by your God. You will no longer be spoken of as ‘Azuvah [Abandoned] or your land be spoken of as ‘Sh’mamah [Desolate]; rather, you will be called Heftzi-Vah [My-Delight-Is-In-Her] and your land Be’ulah [Married]. For ADONAI delights in you, and your land will be married as a young man marries a young woman, your sons will marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over the bride, your God will rejoice over you.
Isaiah 62:1-5

I got a phone call one day at the desk in the bookstore of the Episcopal Church Center (back when I worked there - circa 1990). I used to get all such phone calls when the caller had no idea where to go. They would bounce callers around “you’ve reached the wrong desk, let me transfer you.” This could happen several times until the caller gave up or got angry. I usually tried to find the answer to the question instead of transfer the call. This gave me something to do: plus I had some 40,000 theological titles sitting in front of me. I should be able to answer most things.

One day we got a call from a man who was very upset about the daily office lectionary. It seems that one of the passages in Romans is cut out of the cycle. He accused the Church Center of harbouring homosexuals in the liturgy office. I calmly indicated that the lectionary had been developed over time in the mid70s - not the early 90s (as it then was) and that it was done by General Convention. If he needed to complain he should contact the deputies of his diocese and ask them to put forward a liturgy resolution at the next convention.

This didn’t satisfy him and he rang off. Logic never really helps someone who would rather be complaining, I know. But the point he wanted to make was that by leaving out a few verses here and there, the Lectionary created a bias in the readings that wasn’t there in the text.

For these verses, I switched translations to the CJB, for two reasons: 1) it includes both the Hebrew and English of the various titles of Israel; and 2) it has a more-direct translation from Hebrew in a couple of places. For a direct translation from the Masoretic text, you can see it here. It’s pretty close to the CJB.

This is important because today is the feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, about which we learn:

On January 1st, we celebrate the Circumcision of Christ. Since we are more squeamish than our ancestors, modern calendars often list it as the feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, but the other emphasis is the older. Every Jewish boy was circumcised (and formally named) on the eighth day of his life, and so, one week after Christmas, we celebrate the occasion when Our Lord first shed His blood for us. It is a fit close for a week of martyrs, and reminds us that to suffer for Christ is to suffer with Him.

Back when this was called the Feast of the Circumcision, as it is still called in the Orthodox Church, the Holy Name was celebrated on another day. Contra the idea that “we are more squeamish than our ancestors”, today’s feast among Anglicans is named following the Roman Catholic’s Vatican 2. The Romans changed the name because they didn’t want to seem too pharisaical. Is the important action of this day Circumcision, or the Giving of the Name?

Following hard on the idea that the Church’s calendar is an Ikon, all the early celebrations of Jesus life (from Christmas until Holy Week) take place according to the Hebrew Calendar. Jesus was Circumcised, Mary was Purified - as per the Jewish Law. We can edit that out, like so many v erse of scripture, however. To edit these feasts to the “Holy Name” and the “Presentation” literally edits the Holy Family right out of their Jewish context. Admittedly, 2000 years along, they are nearly entirely removed from that context anyway.

I love this passage of Isaiah! In fact, I love the entire chapter. It’s very beautiful. Truth be told the second part of our quote, verses 10-12, makes no sense without the part that was skipped over. If you read it as quoted, Verses 1-5, 10-12 it sounds like “Rejoice Jerusalem, you shall not be desolate any longer: you salvation is coming to you with his reward!” The passage says “Pester God until he saves us… lo, he saves us! In the first way you might focus on the Holy Name. In fact, the Hebrew word “yeshua”, meaning “salvation” or “health” or “wealth”, shows up twice in the passage. Its inclusion is sometimes complicated when some translations render “salvation” with an upper-case S as if it were a person. The pronouns “him” and “he” then seemingly refer to “Salvation” instead of to “God”.

But if you edit the passage, leaving out verses 6-9, then clearly the reading points to God’s Salvation… rather than to the pestering of God to send salvation. Like the caller in the story we discover the meaning is more in the reading rather than in the writing.

In his book, Born to Kvetch, author Michael Wex is discussing the Jewish Oral Tradition (Talmud, Mishna, etc) that provides meaning for the writen text of the Tanakh. Without the Jewish oral tradition to guide our understanding, we’re not reading the same Bible - at all - as the Jews. As Wex puts it, reading Hebrew Bible without the Oral Tradition will lead “to Jesus on the Cross just as easily as to me at my Bar Mitzvah.”

We see why in today’s reading from Isaiah: edit out a few verses and capitalise an English word and suddenly, its about Jesus; but we also see why in the reading from Matthew where one line from Isaiah is quoted out of context.

I think the passage in today’s reading sounds lovely as it is. It needn’t be edited so that it makes “Christian” sense, does it?

Much Love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
AM: 1 Kings 3:5-14, James 4:13-17,5:7-11, John 5:1-15
PM (Eve of Holy Name): Isaiah 65:15b-25, Revelation 21:1-6

Jesus is painted in the Gospel of John, as God: but that God is more Jewish, I think, than many of us see. John’s community (in Ephesus) was still observing the Passover in the 2nd Century. The Gospel is littered with images of Judaism-as-Metaphor for Jesus and the Messiah’s kingdom. Jewish festivals show up with new meanings woven in or laid over. Jewish customs are commented on not to discard them, but to weave in new meanings.

This reading begins “After this there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.” What feast?

To answer that we have to wonder how chronological John’s gospel is. Jesus goes “up to Jerusalem”. There are only three “Pilgrimage Festivals” in Judaism: Passover, Pentecost and the Feast of Booths. Passover is noted as “being near” in the next chapter (6:4). The Feast of Booths is in the Fall but we are told in chapter 4 that “the fields are ripe for harvesting.” The feast of Pentecost is a harvest festival. But it comes after Passover. Is John so Chronological that there is a years time between Chapter 5 and Chapter 6?

Many commentators decide that this “Feast of the Jews” is all the same Passover as in 6:4. But that makes no sense because Jesus leaves Jerusalem for that… And the Feast of Booths (Autumn) shows up in Chapter 7.

So one possible reading is that Chapter 7 has a Booth (Sukkoth), Chapter 6 has a Passover (Pesach) and Chapter 5 has a Pentecost (Shavuot).

There’s two reasons why this possible reading is important:

1) Shavuot (שבועות) is the feast of “First Fruits”. The Harvest begins and offerings are brought to the temple.
2) Shavuot falls on the 6th day of the month of Sivan. According to Jewish Oral Tradition, the first of Sivan is the day that waters of Noah’s flood begin to recede. And 1 Sivan is also the day that the Tradition teaches that the Jews began their encampment at Sinai - in preparation for the reception of the Torah.

All of these images tie together, I think, in the Greek words used to describe this healing of the man at the pool: this is the only healing in the Gospel of John that is described with the words hugies gegonas υγιης γεγονας “become (or made) whole”. This is different from the normal word of a healing, “Sozo” which can also be a word meaning “Saved” as well as “Healed”. This one means, literally, “Made Whole” or “Made Sound”. (I think the word is “hoo-gi-ace” but saying “Hugies” make me giggle.)

The “flood waters” recede - The healing pool retreats into the background - and the earth is restored (made whole/made sound) - the man-of-earth (In Hebrew, one word for man is “Adam” from earth) is restored to his proper function.

It’s interesting to see this reading show up on the eve of the secular new year. In the modern world we’re used to living outside of cycles. Most of our culture sees things as moving forward on a chronological line rather than moving around an annual cycle. Judaism is not moving in a straight line: the annual festivals cycle on an entirely agricultural basis. Christianity does this as well in the liturgical cycle, but much (all?) of our secular world is built by mostly non-liturgical Protestants. The story arc for Protestantism is Salvation-to-Apocalypse. For Catholics (and catholics) and Jews, the pattern is Day-to-Day, leading forward to eternity. “L’olam v’ed” is the Hebrew, “Unto ages of ages” is the Eastern Orthodox form, “et in secula seculorum” is the Latin, and “world without end” is Anglican. The seasonal festivals lead forward.

Most of us expect to see New Year as a New Thing.

But no: it’s really the same old thing come back to us. We stress over it. We make resolutions. We get all hyped up. We get drunk. We wake up tomorrow and nothing has changed. We even spend several days crossing off the wrong year on our checks - all over again. (For some odd reason, unless I think very specifically I usually start writing 1979 in this period of the year.)

The year cycles. It doesn’t move forward. This is not the time of year that I normally feel the pressure of the story arc. That hits me at my birthday. But I know a lot of people who draw near to the end of the year with the same sort of dread that I experience in August. We find ourselves behind, indebted, stranded in the same old crap all over again. “The holidays” end and normal, secular time returns. Kids go back to school. Work comes back to normal. It’s dark at 5PM when we leave work. It’s dark at 7AM when we leave home. Pretty much everything sucks by 2 January.

When looked at in our secular context, the reading invites us to bring our first fruits of harvest and to have them “Made Whole” again. And, indeed, if we are honest, they are broken. The harvest is not 100%. It’s not exactly what we wanted. It’s a little surprising in some ways. Feh.

Offer it to God anyway. It will be made whole.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Genesis 3:8-15, Revelation 12:1-10, John 3:16-21

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God.
John 3:16-18

Is this Jesus talking?

I have, since fifth grade, felt “called” to ministry. I mean that in the way that one feels less about a phone call and more the way one feels about hearing one’s spouse in the basement when one is in the attic and you’re both looking for the Christmas tree ornaments.

Is this Jesus talking?

The passage from John is marked with a footnote, F23.:

F23: Some interpreters hold that the quotation concludes with verse 15

In fact, it’s so strong, so present a feeling, that I can not imagine not being in liturgical leadership, in some way. Even when I told my current priest to leave me out of things… I took on the role of leading the prayers of the people. Even when I converted to Orthodoxy, I couldn’t stay away: I ended up singing in choir in SF - (the Choir is an integral part of Orthodox liturgy - most male members are ordained); then I pretty much *was* the choir in my first Church in Asheville; then I became the assistant choir director…

And even as I wrestle with the idea of exploring Judaism in some official way, I look at rabbis…

This verse was the first verse of scripture I learned at my Grandfather’s knee, back in the day when the King James Version was all there was. So strong is the imprint of that learning that I have to force myself to see the words that the NRSV actually uses. My brain glosses “his only-begotten son” and “that whosoever believeth” right in there, a matter of programming. And, of course, it’s in bright red; and only, if I force myself, do I remember F23.

Did Jesus say this?

When I was in fifth grade, was that Jesus’ voice?

I don’t know the answers. I only know the implications.

If Jesus said John 3:16-18 then he was making some profound claims about himself and about how God acts. He’s making claims about universalism and salvation about how we are saved in dialogue with a Pharisee who has his own ideas about this. In these three verses - if they are authentically Jesus and we believe them to be true - God himself is announcing an old order passing away and a new one beginning. If Jesus said them and he is who he say he is.

If that was Jesus’ voice then I’m a massive failure. In fact, it’s the one consistent failure in my life: my life itself. For I’ve never quite been able to work up the courage to press on to the prize. I’m 43. Failed. It’s New Years. Lo, what kind of feeling the end of the year brings…

But what if Jesus didn’t say this? The passage in question seems to begin at verse 11 and runs for ten verses:

“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

Personally, that entire passage doesn’t’ sound like Jesus to me - when did he call himself “We”? This all sounds as if it is in the 3rd person, a preacher talking about God’s action. A Christian midrash on the scene of Jesus talking talking to Nicodemus. But ancient writers didn’t have the sense of punctuation and paragraph breaks that we do. This would have all been one long block of text. John 3:16-17 would have looked like this:

(I may have the all-caps wrong - was it all lowercase? Anyway…)

There is no break there between what Jesus says and what anyone else says - it is clearly the teaching of the Church… but from where?

Another problem arises with the early practice of charismatic prophecy: these could be the words of Jesus delivered in a prophetic utterance to the community and written down: a dominical commentary on a Gospel passage delivered to the community in an ecstatic trance… drums beating, feet washing going on, tambourines in the air, candles flickering, singing over and over, Agape flooding over everyone and suddenly Betsey stands up with her hands in the air and yells some gibberish. And Scott stands up with his hands in the air and says, “Yes, my sister, yes… Jesus says, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.’”

Was that Jesus? Was that Betsey and Scott in collaboration? Was that too much wine?

When I end up - all my protestations aside - over and over again in positions of liturgical leadership, when people, over and over again, recognise my gifts (that I really can’t hide too well) what’s going on here?

Is the call of the Community any different from the Call of God?

Does it matter if Jesus actually said this passage or is it only important that it is part of our faith tradition?

A story broke last week in the Forward about a group of 55 or so African Americans in Cairo, Illinois, who, after study, decided to convert to Judaism. It got picked up in various Jewish blogs and discussions. There’s also some interesting (and sad) commentary on the Forward’s website at the above link. One comment, posted on Jewcy, included the telling line, “Why can’t we accept that there are many people out there who would like to become Jews? One reasone could be that being so skeptical about our faith we don’t believe that anyone else could be passionate about it.”

And even more telling are the rest of the comments on that page (as well as on the Forward’s page linked above). They wonder if these “schwartzes” (in use, it is the Yiddish version of “the N-word”) have actually converted. They doubt the veracity of not only the conversion but the congregation that accepted them. It’s painful reading that makes me think of punching. The liberals can’t imagine anyone wanting to convert. The conservatives can’t imagine anyone being able to convert, really.

Removed to a great distance in time and space from the events of our religion we can’t know for certain anything about them. Certainly we can’t know the historical veracity. We can’t understand the full implications to the people at the time. Jesus died, yes. Did he rise again bodily? Did his people only imagine it? Did he come to them in dreams (like to Stephen and Paul)? Did he manifest bodily? Did he say these things to them? Did they write them down faithfully? If we had a time machine would we find everything happening just as the scriptures describe and just as the icons depict?

And would it be important if it was not that way? Would the failure of history to live up to our expectations and understandings imply the untruth of our religion?

If that wasn’t God calling to me in fifth grade, have I lived my life in a semi-psychotic delusion, resulting in manic and depressive modes which make most of my experiences irrelevant, meaningless because, having been filtered through so much, I’ve not really been present at all?

I think I can eliminate that last extreme, anyway.

Have we (liberals, at least) “become so skeptical about our faith we don’t believe that anyone else could be passionate about it?” And have we (conservatives, at least) become so cynical about our faith we don’t trust at all that anyone else could be serious enough about it?

This passage, if it is dominical, if Jesus actually said it, makes some serious claims about who is in and who is out. It makes claims about those who believe in Jesus being, effectively, the Chosen People. Those who reject Jesus were never chosen at all. But it starts out with “For God So Loved Everyone… that EVERYONE might be saved.” The accuser (as shown in Revelation) is thrown down. We can hear what it says, and hold on to the hope, yes?

Can we look at 2,000 years of failures to hold on to the hope and say the Church has failed? Or can we imagine that, somehow, Good and Truth and Beauty have come - in spite of all the bad things - and realise that that is no failure at all. God’s love is present and active.

Can I look at 43 years of life and imagine just for a moment that, despite my own sense of failure, God has been acting, that somehow Good and Truth and Beauty have come in spite of my own arrogance, self-centeredness and fear? That would be no failure at all: God’s love is present and active.

I don’t know.

Holding on to the hope, believing that God is acting, is more important than being able to prove that he is. Christians can point to 2000 years of questions, doubts and producing saints exactly because of that struggle to see God, even in the darkest of time. Sometimes they have been their own (and God’s) worst enemies. But the Love of God has remained present and active anyway.

I sense believing that God has a purpose to my life and working hard at finding it and, even misplacing the evidence, this finding-of-it is more important than being able to prove or validate (to others) that I’m right. I can point to 40 years of liturgical leadership and spiritual struggle and even rare acts of charity and grace, showing that God’s love is present and active.

Christmas is coming…

Was Jesus born on December 25th? Probably not. Was it a pagan holiday that we Christianised? Most likely. Or was it just a seasonal even that made sense as a Church event? Possibly. Does it matter? No. What matters are the acts we do in the name of the season or not, that make the love of God present and active. For without those, the entire story is meaningless.

Much love!

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Zechariah 4:1-14, Revelation 4:9-5:5, Matthew 25:1-13

The foolish said to the wise, “Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut.
Matthew 25:8-10

If I read correctly, the Jesus Seminar doesn’t think this an Authentic of Jesus. John Chrysostom turns this into a riff on the last judgement, which really makes sense - although he reads “Virgins” as men rather than women. Both are equally likely, of course, and he was a monk. I do find John’s reading far more edifying than where this normally goes. I heartily recommend it to you.

What I don’t find very edifying in this story (authentically Jesus or not) is that I would share my oil. What possible harm could there be, since the Bridegroom is coming over the hill, in pouring a tiny bit of my flask of oil in your lamp? Anyone who has worked with oil lamps knows that a surprisingly small amount of olive oil burns over a period of time. It’s very easy to add more. Since the guy is coming over the hill, what? do we need 15 minutes maybe 20 of oil?

Why do the “wise” ones not share?

Remember the first time you went to a Roman Catholic Mass or to an Episcopal Mass or an Eastern Orthodox Liturgy? Did you know what books to jumble or to which page to turn in the leaflet? I only know one parish that makes it very clear at every turn what’s next, where to turn, etc. Most places create a kind of confusion.

More than a year ago, when I was still Orthodox, I wrote two essays (here and here) on what I saw then as a lack of hospitality in Eastern Orthodoxy. It’s not an issue of the people - anyone who stays after a service for Coffee Hour at *any* of the Orthodox Churches I attended or visited knows full well about the hospitality of the people. But the liturgy is not very hospitable. It can be confusing and, considering the vast difference between styles in east and west, for someone used to even the structured piety of conservative Roman Catholicism, Orthodoxy is a bit overwhelming. (In the midst of prayers at my Chrismation service, my friend Steve, now an Episcopal Priest, turned to me and said, “Huw, is this Church?” So much was going on that he was a little confused. I said, “Yes”

But most people, coming into an Orthodox Church or other liturgical structure find the most common answer to their question to be a look that, while possibly providing an answer also says, “Shhhh! We’re praying here.”

After a while you get used to any liturgy, but to be certain it’s possible to get lost in *any* worship service. I’ve been lost and confused at a Reformed Synagogue as well as at a Conservative Shul. All it would have taken was for someone to tell me what page we start on… One of the things I did over and over as a pagan was to produce handouts. I did the same thing as an Master of Ceremony at Episcopal parishes.

So you show up at the right place at the right time and, by the time the thing starts, your running out of oil. The last thing you need is some uppity attitude from the pew sitter next to you. Most people in woshiping communities of whatever tradition act like the Wise Virgins. Sad really.

Like I said, Chrysostom takes this some place very different.

Much love,

Huw