Fasting & Forgiveness

Before we fast, we forgive. Today, we celebrate Forgiveness Sunday. Tomorrow, we begin to fast. Jesus first commands us to forgive one another (just after teaching us the Lord’s prayer) and then he teaches us how to fast (Matt 6:15-18).

This is the right order of events, because if we do not forgive one another, our fasting will be worthless. I repeat, if there is someone you will not forgive, you will not be forgiven. Now is the time for us to purge ourselves of all resentments and unforgiveness.

The Great Fast is a time of freedom from bondage. It is a time to let go of our enslaving passions – to forgive even those who don't deserve it – rather than carrying the weight of all that hatred or resentment toward them. Let’s just take that weight – that burden – and drop it – and let it go – and we’ll feel a thousand pounds lighter. Maybe fasting for 40 days will make me feel a thousand pounds lighter in body as well as soul.

The Great Fast should free us from our extra useless weight: the weight of our addiction to various sins, to overeating, to drinking too much, to being lazy about prayer, to all manner of sins of the flesh, but, above all, to being unloving and unforgiving to others – to our enemies, our family, and our friends.

Living in freedom from all of this, paradoxically gives the Fast an almost festive feeling. Jesus says today that, when we fast (not if we fast, but when we fast), we should anoint our head and wash our face. In the Byzantine tradition, we are anointed on our heads on feast days. It is a festive thing for us to do. Yet, last night we celebrated Litija at Vespers, which means we were all anointed.

And there's Litija again next Saturday evening. All this anointing during the Fast! Because there is a paradoxically festive element to this season. We call this in the Triodion bright fasting.

We will sing tonight at Vespers, “Let us begin the time of this bright Fast, giving ourselves over to spiritual struggle. …. Let us not only fast from food; let us also abstain from every passion and cultivate spiritual virtues. And let us faithfully persevere in this, so that we may be worthy to see the holy Passion of Christ our God and the joy of his holy Resurrection.”

We rejoice that we are being freed. And the path to that freedom in Christ is confessing our sins to one another and forgiving one another in his name. Forgive me, the sinner. 

Withdraw for a time.

Christ is baptized!

And immediately after his baptism, he was led by the Spirit into the desert, where he was tempted by the devil. This is the gospel we heard yesterday for the Saturday after Theophany (Matt 4:1-11). The 40-day fast of Jesus in the desert immediately after his baptism foreshadows for us the coming 40-day Great Fast before Pascha. The Great Fast before Pascha is also the Great Fast after Theophany. When Pascha is very early, the Triodion starts almost immediately. This year, however, we have endless days of feasting – well, until the end of February.

Jesus endures his fast in the desert in preparation for his ministry. Though he is perfect and unchangeable in his divinity (and so you might think he doesn’t need any preparation), in his perfect humanity, he does change and need preparation.  He grows in wisdom and in stature, as Luke tells us (2:52). In the desert, Jesus experiences hunger, which is a very human thing to experience. He fasts and then he is hungry (Matt 4:2). And he is tempted by the devil to eat bread.

Fasting weakens us. At first, it makes us more susceptible to temptations, not less. Anyone who has made a strenuous effort at the Great Fast knows it has a tendency to produce irritability, short tempers, and the easy formation of resentments. This is why some of the fathers point out to us that it does no good to fast from meat if we were only going to turn around and bite the backs of our brothers and sisters.

Fasting also weakens Jesus. Here is God in the wilderness weakened in his humanity and hungry.

  

But we submit to this time of weakening as a necessary training. It's a bit like when an athlete undergoes a strenuous workout. You know that when you lift a lot of heavy weights it actually, in the short-term, weakens you. That same day, you're wiped out. The very fibers of your muscles are torn apart by the effort. However, they respond to this by healing over time and coming back with greater strength so that, next time, they can lift that weight more easily.

The same is true of the spiritual effort of fasting and other ascetic labors. They train us in self-denial. Then when we're tempted to do things that really are evil, unlike eating food, which is not evil, we have the strength to resist – like Jesus resisted his temptations in the desert – because we’ve practiced not giving into our desires. Habit is a powerful thing. And we're going to need good habits and great strength because greater temptations are coming to us then we have so far experienced.

The same thing is true in the human life of Jesus Christ. He comes out of the desert, which he entered to be tempted and strengthened in his humanity, only to walk straight into horrible adversity. Today, we hear in the holy gospel that, immediately after he rebukes the devil in the desert, he hears that John has been arrested (Matt 4:12). John, his Forerunner and his Baptist, the servant to whom he had bowed his head and from whom he had received baptism only 40 days or so before.

This arrest bodes poorly for Jesus, you understand. He and John were publically affiliated with each other. The authorities that had arrested John would likely be coming for Jesus next. This is one of those adversities for which Jesus trained in the desert. This is a moment of spiritual discernment by our Lord. He has a decision to make, and in making it he must not be rattled by difficult circumstances.

He could rail against those authorities that have arrested John and heroically be arrested with him. He could witness to the gospel by bravely facing the false accusers right away. But Jesus is able to respond to the adversity dispassionately and with wisdom. He knows that first the gospel must be preached to the people before he is given up, or rather freely lays down his life for us.

First, he must preach. For our faith, as Paul will teach us, comes by hearing – and hearing the preaching of Christ (Rome 10:17). If the word was not preached, it would not be heard, and we would have no faith. So, Jesus does not stand at this time and rail against the wicked persecutors of John. Rather, at this time, he withdraws into Galilee and leaves Nazareth and goes and dwells in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali.

By this example he teaches us, St John Chrysostom says, that “it is not blameworthy not to throw oneself into peril.” This was shown to us also when Jesus was a baby. When Herod ordered the slaughter of the Holy Innocents in his effort to destroy the Christ Child, Joseph is warned by an angel in a dream and the Holy Family flees into Egypt (Matt 2:13).

Knowing of coming peril and destruction, it is at times good for us to withdraw for a time. This is not to say that we are to be cowards. Far from it. Jesus embraces the cross and commands us to do the same. We must be courageous, but we need not be foolish. (Though perhaps some of us are to other kinds of foolishness – to the ascesis of folly – to be fools for Christ’s sake). But Jesus is no fool. He reserves his passion for a better time. It is necessary, as I say, for him to preach the gospel first.

It is interesting to note, as Matthew does, where this adversity sends him and where he consequently first preaches the gospel. To the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali. It will help to know something about this place. Where are Zebulun and Naphtali? Or, maybe, who are Zebulun and Naphtali? Well, first of all, they were two sons of Jacob, according to the Book of Genesis. They are two fathers of two of the 12 tribes of Israel. The tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali settled in the North. It was here that the Jews experienced their first captivity by the Assyrians. It was here that they first forgot the Torah and descended into idolatry.

When Isaiah describes them as a people who sat in darkness, it helps to have some understanding of what he's talking about (Isaiah 9:2). These are the people who have forgotten the Lord – and it is to them that the Lord comes. For those who sat in the region and shadow of death, light has dawned (Matt 4:16). That light is Jesus Christ and his preaching of the gospel.

Isn’t this remarkable? Those who first forgot the Lord and abandoned his law and turned to other gods – it is to them that he first of all comes! It is among them that he first preaches! We are never abandoned by the Lord, even if we have abandoned him. Very much to the contrary, he comes to seek out and save those who are lost, confused, mired in sin, and idolatrous. Us, in other words. The beautiful shepherd leaves behind the 99 sheep on the mountain to go and find the one who has gone astray (Matt 18:12).

And listen to the first word he preaches to them and to us, the first word he preaches ever to anybody: “Repent…, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  

There is One Priest

More so than at any other time of the year, we Churches who follow the Byzantine tradition are now immersed in the Old Testament. On the weekdays of the Great Fast, we are reading Genesis and Proverbs and Isaiah. If you’re looking for some good Lenten reading, consider reading these.

It’s well known that – on the weekdays of the Great Fast – we fast from the anaphora – that is, from the Eucharistic prayer, which is why we call these “aliturgical days,” but our lectionary also fasts on these weekdays – from the gospel and the apostolic readings.

While all scripture is God-breathed, not all scripture is equal, and it’s very clear how we feel about the gospel (2 Tim 3:16). That golden book on the holy table contains only the gospels and no other scripture – because the gospel of Jesus Christ is the preeminent revelation and the lens through which we as Christians must interpret all of scripture. So, spending some days without its proclamation is kind of a shock to our system –a true deprivation.  Sometimes the absence of a person serves to remind us of how much we love them and need them. That’s what this is like.

Yet, each Sabbath and Lord’s Day – each Saturday and Sunday – are like oases in the desert. They are moments of refreshment for us in the midst of a great labor – that is if we are really doing the work of the fast. We resume the celebration of the anaphora and even our fasting is relaxed a bit on these days, which traditionally permit wine and oil and allow us to end our total fast in the morning with the Divine Liturgy rather than in the evening with Vespers or the Presanctified Divine Liturgy. Also on Saturdays and Sundays, we joyfully resume the proclamation of the gospel and the reading of the apostolic writings. Specifically, we read the Gospel of Mark and the Letter to the Hebrews.

Given our focus on the Old Testament and especially on Genesis at this time, it is quite fitting that the epistle from which we read on Saturdays and Sundays of the Great Fast is the Letter to the Hebrews – because this treatise is particularly good at showing what the Old Covenant means for us as Christians and describing for us how it is all fulfilled in Jesus Christ. It particularly focuses on priesthood and shows for us how the priesthood of the Old Covenant is fulfilled in the great high priesthood of Jesus Christ in which all believers share through their baptism into Christ.

A priest is one who offers sacrifice. We often think of a priest as a presbyter, which is an ordained elder or father of the church – and, indeed, etymologically the word “priest” circuitously derives from the word “presbyter.” These two ideas have been combined in our minds for a long time – and there are good reasons for that – the ordained presbyter has one of the essential roles in the eucharistic sacrifice – but sometimes we lose sight of important distinctions. A priest (an ἱερεύς as opposed to a πρεσβύτερος) is not just an old man (which is my favorite translation of presbyter) but is one who offers sacrifice. And it is about this priesthood that the Letter to the Hebrews is primarily concerned.

Remember that in the Old Covenant there was a complex sacrificial system. Priests were the descendants of Levi and Aaron. They sacrificed lambs and birds and various animals upon the altar in the temple and before that in the tabernacle in the wilderness. And they made offerings of grain and incense. They made different kinds of offerings for guilt, for peace, for thanksgiving, for healing, and for purity. They did all this according to the prescriptions of the law revealed to Moses on Mount Sinai at the establishment of the Lord's covenant with his people Israel.

Well, what are we as Christians to make of all of this? What does it all mean for us? Who are our priests and what is our sacrifice? 

Remember that we read the Old Testament with the eyes of the gospel.

For us, there is really only one priest – Jesus Christ, the great high priest – and there is only one sacrifice – Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God – offered upon the altar of the cross, which we especially venerate today. It is Jesus who offers and is offered. Upon the altar of the Cross, our priest Jesus Christ offers for us our thank-offering – our Eucharist, which is for the remission of our sins and the cleansing of our guilt, and which heals our infirmity and raises us from our mortality. This priesthood and this sacrifice is the fulfillment of all sacrifices offered by all priests.

Yet, how can Jesus be a priest? It is clear that Jesus is not a descendant of Aaron or of the tribe of Levi. He is, as the gospels often note and as the Messiah was prophesied to be, a descendant of David and therefore of the tribe of Judah, not Levi. A king, yes, but how can Hebrews claim that he is a priest – and not only a priest but the great high priest?

Well, he is not a priest according to the order of Levi but a priest according to the order of Melchizedek. "Christ… was appointed by him who said to him..., 'You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek'" (Heb 5:5-6). This is what the Lord said of David – or of the Davidic and Messianic Priest-King in the Psalms (Ps 109/110:4). This connects the royal lineage of Jesus with a priestly lineage after all – but it is an altogether different kind of priesthood.

Melchizedek is a rather mysterious figure in the Book of Genesis, which, again, makes for good Lenten reading. Long before there is any Levitical priesthood – indeed, long before Levi was even born, Melchizedek appears. He is named only once in Genesis. And he is a priest! He’s a priest of God Most High and King of Salem. Salem means peace, so he is king of peace. Melek means "king" and ṣedeq means "righteousness,” so Melchizedek means the King of Righteousness. These are high titles!

He, like Jesus – and unlike the ordering of things in the Mosaic Covenant, which was yet to come – is both priest and king. So here is an order, which precedes the other order, which is both royal and priestly, and which makes a sacrificial offering, as all priests do. But Melchizedek does not offer the blood of goats or calves. He offers bread and wine. So, a priest of the order of Melchizedek will offer bread and wine.

This is the offering that the Lord Jesus makes on the night he was betrayed, but he transcends it and transfigures it, showing the bread and wine to be his own body, which he offers, and the wine to be his own blood, which is poured out for the forgiveness of sins (Matt 26:28). This offering is one with the one sacrifice of the cross, offered by the Davidic Messianic King and the Priest of the Order of Melchizedek – Jesus Christ.

Jesus is the only priest and the cross is the only sacrifice offered once for all. Yet, listen to what Jesus says today about the cross: "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mark 8:34). Self-denial and losing our life for the sake of Jesus and his gospel is the cross our Lord calls us to embrace. This season of the Great Fast especially calls us to self-denial and away from self-indulgence.

There is only one saving sacrificial death upon the cross. To be saved by it we must participate in it. To rise with Christ, we must also die with him.

How? First, we must believe and be baptized into Christ. Then, if we love him, we will keep his commandments, even when it hurts. Confess our own sins to one another and not the sins of others. Pray for each other so that we may be healed (James 5:16). Fast. Pray. Show kindness and mercy and forgiveness to our neighbors, especially those we dislike. This will feel like hanging on the cross. His sacrifice must become also our sacrifice. His priesthood must become our priesthood.

His one sacrifice is re-presented also among us as often as we come together in remembrance of him and proclaim his death until he comes by eating the bread which is his body and drinking the chalice which is the new covenant in his blood (cf. 1 Cor 11:25-26). Just as Melchizedek offered bread and wine, so now does Jesus offer bread and wine become himself, our sacrificial and Paschal Lamb – in and through us who become his body by our faith, our baptism, and our communion with him. 

Beginning in the Beginning

Abba Dorotheos of Gaza tells of a wheel,
rather like a wagon wheel.

The Great Fast begins in the beginning. It is a good time to stop and reorient ourselves toward the Lord – to go back to the beginning and to remember what we humans really are and why we were created.

In our lectionary, we begin the Great Fast at the beginning of three books – at Terce-sext or Sixth Hour, we begin at the beginning of the prophecy of Isaiah. And at Vespers and the Presanctified Divine Liturgy, we begin at the beginning of Proverbs and, of course, we also begin at the beginning of it all – at the beginning of Genesis.

The beginning of Genesis in particular is a wellspring for theological reflection. Someone said that all of scripture can be regarded as a footnote to Genesis 1. Today, I would like to focus on our creation – on the beginning of us.

Because, without some understanding of who we are, all of our ascetical efforts during this penitential time may seem vain and pointless. What are we reaching for, anyway? The story of our creation gives profound insights into our created nature – of which we often lose sight and which the Great Fast may help us to see again more clearly.

So let's look at our beginning: "God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them" (Genesis 1:27). Now, if we listen closely, we’ll notice some very interesting grammar and syntax going on here. The direct object is "man" – "God created man.” And then this one noun – “man” – is referred back to by two pronouns – first, "him," and, secondly, "them" – first singular and then plural.

Now, the second creation story, which we read tomorrow and the next day at Vespers, gets rather explicit about how this takes place, and it's really beautiful if you think about it. God creates one human – a man. And he takes out of this man a part of himself – his rib – and fashions this into a woman. Now, God, being God, could have made two people out of the earth instead of just the one, and then man would never have been alone even for a moment, but that's not how Gods chose to proceed and I think it's meaningful.

Humanity begins as one person. Whatever you may think of this biologically, it is theologically and anthropologically meaningful. The idea that we are all made out of one person, rather than two, shows how deeply and completely we are meant to be in communion with one another. There's no room left for individualism when we look at it this way. We are, in the story of our beginning, quite literally one. Think of the image: all humanity is in one person – one Adam – one man taken out of the ground.

The one God made this one man in his own image. Note this: God is an image maker – a creator of his own image. God is an iconographer and we are his icons. And his first created human is somehow mysteriously both singular and plural – both "he" and "they." That we humans are both many and one – that we are persons and also a community of persons sharing one human nature is an icon of God who is one God and also three Persons. God himself is a community of persons and, inasmuch as we are united to one another by the bonds love and by the grace of God, we are an image of that community and of God.

This is one thing we strive to realize through our prayer and fasting and almsgiving. That is, we are trying to be healed of our infirmities and strengthened out of our weaknesses so that the divisions and rifts between us can be closed. If we will draw near to God, we must draw near to one another.

Abba Dorotheos of Gaza tells of a wheel, rather like a wagon wheel. The center – the axis – is God, and each of us are somewhere along the spokes of the wheel. You see the closer we get to each other, the closer we get to God. To be a true and perfect image of God, we must become one community of persons and not a confederacy of individuals.

Let there be no divisions or hatreds or animosities between us, but let us forgive everything and love one another. If we fast and pray and do works of mercy for one another, it will help us put an end to all division and strife.