TOTALLY COUNTERINTUITIVE. IRRESISTIBLE.

 `You heard that it was said: Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth (Ex. 21:22-25); <sup>39</sup> but I -- I tell you not to resist the evil, but whoever shall slap thee on thy right cheek, turn to him also the other;<sup>40</sup> and whoever is willing to take you to law, and to take your tunic -- grant him also your cloak.<sup>41</sup> `And whoever shall impress you one mile, go with him two,⁴² to him who is asking of you be giving, and him who wants to borrow from you you may not turn away.

⁴³ `You heard that it was said: Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and shalt hate thine enemy;⁴⁴ but I -- I say to you, Love your enemies, bless those cursing you, do good to those hating you, and pray for those accusing you falsely, and persecuting you,⁴⁵ that you may be sons of your Father in the heavens, because His sun He doth cause to rise on evil and good, and He doth send rain on righteous and unrighteous.

⁴⁶ `For, if you love those loving you, what reward have you? do not also the tax-gatherers the same?⁴⁷ and if ye salute your brethren only, what does it profit you? do not also the tax-gatherers so?⁴⁸ you shall therefore be perfect, as your Father who [is] in the heavens is perfect.

 

This passage is, of course, another one we can’t avoid. Let’s take it in the two parts of the original text. First, the Lex Talionis. My first question is: would Yeshua’s audience have thought immediately of the Exodus passage, or would the concept already have migrated into a general consciousness, shedding its specific original context? Christians, certainly, are not commonly aware that the term originated in a passage about two men coming to blows in the vicinity of a pregnant woman and, by the collateral damage of hitting her, causing a premature birth. The rule is that if apart from the birth there is no serious injury, the hitter must pay what the woman’s husband demands and the court corroborates; if there is serious injury, retribution must be specific and appropriate: if she loses an eye, the hitter must lose an eye, etc. It has often been said that the purpose of this rule was to limit the retribution, which might otherwise degenerate into a vendetta; and this may well be true.

            In later years it may well have continued to guard against unlimited vengeance, and thus to be a reasonable law, especially in less painfully physical cases. However, Yeshua again begins, “But I – I tell you . . .“ And now he launches into what becomes a genuinely counter-intuitive response. In some ways, it reminds us of a famous tactic in Oriental martial arts: giving way in the face of a blow so that the adversary may find his momentum carrying him through to a fall. If someone hits you in a moment of anger (and see earlier for that topic), turn the other cheek to let him hit you again. Two questions: what will be the effect, and in what spirit is it suggested? The effect will depend upon the adversary, but there is at least a chance that he will be suddenly and completely disconcerted, and that your reaction will break through his bubble of rage and stop him in his tracks. 

            In what spirit is the advice offered? It might be thought that, as in judo, the suggested action is a tactic the better to defeat your enemy. Clearly, though, that is not what Yeshua is about. Once again, the pattern is that of a general statement – “resist not evil” – followed, in this case, by three examples: the slap, the lawsuit for an item of clothing, and the Roman soldier’s impressment. What do these last tell us? First of all, that the general statement applies to individuals only. It is not a principle for public policy or for geopolitics (although it may contain a hint against the Zealot resistance fighters). Secondly, that for individuals it does not apply only in purely private situations (the slap) but also in the context of a community (the lawsuit) and of society at large (the impressment). In each of the examples, the initial deed is characterised as “ponèros”, which is perhaps not quite “evil” but rather worthless, knavish, malicious or wicked: it lacks the metaphysical extreme that “evil” suggests. If you resist, the first possibility is that you will fail: the slapper may be stronger than you, the person who wants your chiton or tunic may have a better lawyer and so get your himation, your cloak or toga, also, and resisting a Roman soldier’s legal demand would certainly be foolish. The second possibility is that you may be more or less successful; but if you are, your resistance will stir up and/or keep alive a counter-animus that will draw the situation out and create more enmity, so that the only profit may be a brief surge of self-respect i.e. pride.

            Now, what happens if you follow the suggestion? True, you may get slapped again. But the counter-intuitive nature of your response, in all three cases, may well help to create the opposite of enmity – not friendship necessarily, but “peace”.

            At this point, it is necessary to parse the Hebrew word shalom. In its Biblical appearance, it is almost always translated as “peace”. But in fact it is a vast word, a huge word, a cosmic word. It means a state of wholeness and completeness, of equilibrium, of the way things ought to be. “Making shalom” is a characteristic of God, and is therefore enjoined upon human beings. (NB: this casts an even more important light on the Beatitude “blessed are the peacemakers”: the are the ones who make Shalom.) So the purpose of this article of the new Torah is just that: making shalom. Yeshua once again completes the old Torah (which will not be abolished) by a greater inwardness: instead of an act of resistance, which will maintain the inwardness of the ponèros by returning it, we should inwardly make shalom, the outward and visible sign of which will be our counter-intuitive and unexpected reaction.

            And when Yeshua goes on to the second part of our passage, he in fact does explain the general principle. Making shalom in an adversarial situation helps to make us more like the Father, who does not deprive the wicked of sunshine nor the unjust of rain. And I suspect his two clinching arguments of having been said with a smile: even if you only care about your own reputation, well, if you are only nice to those who are nice to you, in what way are you better than those collaborationist quislings you so despise? Hmmmm? Get a life! Shape up!

            And finally, the summing-up. To us it sounds like an outrageous demand. We are to be as perfect as God? Really? Well, once again it is worth looking at the Greek word, which is teleios. And teleios has in it the root of “completing”. So it is more like “perfected, completed, finished” (in the sense that a potter’s pot comes out of the workshop teleios, finished). So it reminds us that we are made in God’s image but that we are a bit out of true. Following the new Torah, which completes the old, will help to complete us, bring us back to what we were made to be: in the image of the Father. Just as shalom restores Creation to what it was created to be: whole and teleios, complete.

Shalom

Claude Lorrain: Port at Sunset

THAT LITTLE WORD AGAIN

In my previous post I looked at the prayer that God’s will may be done on earth AS it is in Heaven; today we might glance at the prayer that we may be forgiven AS we forgive others.

It seems, at first, much simpler than the previous AS:  a simple case of do as you would be done by. If you want to be forgiven, the least you can do is do some forgiving yourself. Let’s start with what’s to be forgiven. In all Gospels except Luke it is “debts”;  but many scholars think that the word Jesus used was the Aramaic hoba, which means both debt and sin. If this sounds odd, remember that in both Dutch and German the same word, schuld, is used for a monetary debt and to mean ‘guilt’; and in Dutch, therefore, the relevant line of the Lord’s prayer says: forgive us our schuld as we forgive our schuldenaren – literally our debtors, but in fact those who have schuld toward us. And let’s remember also that only a little over a century ago debt was considered so serious that an inability to pay it sent you to gaol. (Those who borrow from the Mafia are even to this day reminded forcefully of the need to pay both debt and vig.)

Are we God’s debtors? It seems odd: if God is love, and our relation to him is one of love, is it decent to express that in terms of debt? In the Old Testament, God put it very clearly to Israel: if you (plural: y’all) will love and honour me and keep my commandments, you will be my people and I will be your God. If you will not, I will turn my back on you and nasty things will probably happen to you. So it’s in one sense a transaction; and a transaction, agreed to by both sides, creates a debt. If this sounds one-sided, you can still find traces of the other side in the Psalms, when the Psalmist cries “Up, Lord, and do something!” And in Judaism arguing, even indignantly, with God is not considered outrageous.

With the coming of Christ there is a subtle change. It is no longer merely a matter of keeping commandments, but of a relation of profound intimacy with God: with the Father, in the Son, through the Holy Spirit. This is still simple, but where keeping commandments is simple on this side of complexity, the new relationship is simple far, far beyond complexity.

So what does that do to debt and schuld? It transforms it, or is meant to. Just as between great lovers the very thought of “owing” is inconceivable, so in the new relation of love between God and the soul it is (meant to be) inconceivable. Right, says God: but if you accept this, and you also accept that “what you have done to the least of these, you have done to me”, then the thought of “owing” between you and your brother must also become inconceivable.

But. But we still live in a sublunar and greebly world. So in the meantime, in the mean time – the time in the middle between promise and Parousia, the mean and ungenerous time of Auden’s “low and dishonest decade” --, there is forgiveness. It is the way-station to inconceivability. And we learn the HOW of forgiving by looking at the way we hope God will forgive us. Not a mean forgiving, that will go on reminding the forgiven of their nasties and my virtue; not a forgiving accompanied by stern lectures, demanding promises never to do it again; no, joyful forgiving with open arms, with a clean soft garment and a feast of rich veal from the fatted calf.

This takes a bit of learning. Most of the time we don’t even pray for our enemies, let alone forgive them. When did you last hear prayers in church for ISIS and its members? Forgiving is hard; forgiving and forgetting even harder. But the joy it brings is so enormous that the learning is worth every effort. Another of the Joys of Lent? 

Image: Rembrandt van Rijn, "The Return of the Prodigal Son"   

THE DAILY ROUND

"Ora et labora": the ploughman ploughs and prays. Work, play, food, sleep and prayer interact and intertwine.

I always hesitate to write here of personal prayer habits, as there are so many who are vastly more advanced in such matters than I: more experienced, more assiduous, more structured, and certainly closer to God. In Charles Morgan’s The Judge’s Story, Vivian, the Judge’s young married ward, describes her conscience as “a swerving beast” that has a tendency to shy at steep hills. For those whose prayer-life is as swerving a beast as mine is, though, I will set out briefly what I do, and what I pray it may be granted me to do beyond that: perhaps it can be of use to someone.

I used to “say my prayers” at night, in bed, before going to sleep, until I found that sleep usually overtook me in the middle of the Second Collect., which meant that a large number of friends in trouble went unprayed-for. So I changed it to the morning, after waking and before rising: reality may still be a little fuzzy, but one is at least heading in the direction of sustained wakefulness. At night, I still say the Lord’s Prayer and the Second and Third Collect for Evensong before reposing in the arms of Morpheus.

In the morning, then, I begin with the Lord’s Prayer and the Second and Third Collects for Morning Prayer: the third especially makes a wonderful stand-alone prayer for the beginning of the day. I then go on to pray for the human race, that we may find a way to diminish our numbers on this planet by about half, without catastrophe. (A long-term desire, obviously, but nothing is beyond God’s power.) I then pray for the men and women in the jihadi movements the world over, that they may come to know that God, the only true God, is a God of love and understanding and not of vengeance and violence. I pray for Valdimir Putin, that he may come to the knowledge and love of God, and bring his country into the friendship of nations. Finally, I pray for all those in governments (not excluding The D*nald), asking God to grant them “a listening heart, discernment, and charity”. (A note on these prayers: I have written here before that I am continually struck and dismayed by the fact that in no church I have been to have our enemies and/or adversaries been prayed for.)

After these “public” prayers, I pray for my loved ones, and for friends and acquaintances who (as the Prayer Book puts it) “in this transitory life are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity” – always in the same order, which acts as a mnemonic, so that I forget no one. As intercessions are philosophically difficult (I’ve written about this before: one worries about Huck Finn’s fish-hooks), I pray that they may be brought to the knowledge and love of God, and that if it be His will, He may “relieve their infirmities”. I pray for children, stepchildren and grandchildren, and earnestly beseech the Father to bring to His knowledge and love those who not only are in need but do not know it.

Finally, I come to myself. What to pray for? After years of practice, I’ve come to begin by asking for the courage and discernment to face and confess my “manifold sins and wickedness”: as Fr Jean-Kamel puts it, all good things begin with housecleaning.

After that beginning, I ask to be taught to pray – to pray all the time, whether one is praying or not: what Carthusians calll “the prayer of the heart”. To pray simply but all the time: a sort of cross between Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God, Don Camillo, and a hermit of the Charterhouse. Obviously, to do this in the midst of the world isn’t easy, but if you get into the habit of frequent little reminders, in the gaps of activity, I’m beginning to sense that eventually it may come. Especially if I remember to ask the Holy Spirit to open the shutters, windows and doors of my soul so that He may enter at will.

There is a third item, after housecleaning and prayer. I beg the Father to grant that I may also be “an instrument of His peace” – and it’s with that wonderful prayer, often erroneously attributed to St Francis (in reality it is by an anonymous early-20^th-century Frenchman), that I will end here as I do at getting up:

O Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace:

Where there is hatred, let me bring love;

Where there is offence, let me bring forgiveness;

Where there is discord, let me bring unity;

Where there is error, let me bring truth;

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith;

Where there is despair, let me bring hope;

Where there is darkness, let me bring the Light;

Where there is sadness, let me bring Joy;

O Master, let me not seek so much

to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

in forgetting ourselves that we find,

in forgiving that we are forgiven,

in dying that we are resurrected to life eternal.

Amen.

P.S. During the day, the Angelus at noon and a crucifix over my desk help me not to wander off too far……

Images: the ploughman is from the blog lavenderandlovage.com; the painting above is Jean-François Millet's "L'Angélus" (1859)

REAR-VIEW MIRRORS AND WINDSHIELDS

Looking back on 2016 one can of course cite many horrors and many disappointments. But when one either looks more closely at  what’s happened in the world at large, a large number of blessings also become apparent: in India 800,000 volunteers planted 50 million trees in one day to help the country reforest 12% of its surface, while for the first time ever, 93% of the planet’s children learnt to read and write. One does need to be careful about absorbing “news” from media, especially television, internet and even print. Newspaper editors long worked on the principle “if it bleeds, it leads”, and this has now spread to almost all media. Social media, on the other hand, are sometimes even worse, as they can spread the steaming private rage of individuals faster than any (other) epidemic. One of the rare exceptions is the French daily La Croix, which resolutely continues to inform rather than titillate or judge, which invariably explains both sides of difficult questions, and which pays as much attention to good news as to catastrophes. (Le Monde, of which someone who worked there in the Fifties once said, “It’s not a newspaper, it’s a university”, still informs very well but has moved further away from impartiality – leftwards – and is temperamentally gloomy.)

For individuals, looking back on a year gone by is usually a bit nostalgic, slightly (or deeply) sad, rueful, or cautiously thankful. It’s a collective version of the eve-of-birthday mindset; it’s the painful travail out of which new year’s resolutions will shortly be born.

None of this should properly apply to prayer.

God does not ask us to apply ourselves more energetically to doing better at everything. God does not ask us to judge the rest of the world, even politicians. God does not ask us to hate our nasty enemies with more intensity and if possible to wipe them off the face of the earth. God does not ask us to be revenged on those who did ill to us or to our loved ones.

God asks only one thing: that we return His love. With every fibre of our being. And this is largely done not by increased activity but by allowing Him to visit, to move in, to take over. It’s almost passive, but it does take concentration: we ask Him to open our doors and windows so that He can enter and take up residence.

Once we embark seriously on doing that, resolutions become superfluous.



The illustration is William Holman Hunt's "The Light of the World" (1849-53) in Keble College Chapel, Oxford. Note that the door on which Christ knocks is overgrown and clearly unused to being opened, and has no handle: it can be opened only from the inside. Our inside.

TENEBRAE

John Howe, The Dark Tower

Dark days; and the terror is faceless.

War, and not war: as a scholar put it on French radio, ‘You cannot make war on terrorists; but they can make war on us.’

It is both sobering and useful, in times like these, to read with some care a couple of Prayer Book collects. The first is the Second Collect at Matins, and reads:

O God, who art the author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life, whose service is perfect freedom: defend us thy humble servants in all assaults of our enemies; that we, surely trusting in thy defence, may not fear the power of any adversaries; through the might of Jesus Christ our Lord.

The second is the Second Collect for Evensong, which reads:

O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works do proceed: give unto thy servants that peace which the world cannot give; that both our hearts may be set to obey thy commandments, and also that by thee we being defended from the fear of our enemies may pass our time in rest and quietness; through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour.

I have long noted, and am now reminded, that in neither Collect do we pray for the destruction of our enemies, nor even that their assaults may not occur. In both Collects what we ask to be defended against is fear: ‘that we . . .may not fear the power of any adversaries’, and that we ‘being defended from the fear of our enemies’ may obtain rest and quietness – or, as another Collect puts it, be enabled ‘to serve Thee with a quiet mind.’ A peace which the world cannot give.

This is, as the media have reminded us, more easily said than done; but then, we are not asked to conquer the fear of our enemies ourselves. We pray that we may be defended, in the assaults of our enemies, by God; and defended, not from those assaults, but from fear.

God’s defence is absolute but peculiar. St Stephen had it, but he was stoned to death. Dietrich Bonhoeffer had it, but he was hanged with piano wire. Whatever God’s defence is, it is clearly not what we think or would normally desire. Is it, then, simply courage we are asking for: the courage to submit to atrocities without fear? If that were so, we should be no different from a pagan warrior, or an Islamist kamikaze praying just before he blows up himself and dozens of innocents. Courage is a great good and a noble virtue, but in itself it is as pagan as it is Christian.

No, there is another prayer to be added to those Collects, and Cranmer did not write it. Had he done so, it might have been something like this:

O Lord our heavenly father, who in the passion of thy Son Jesus Christ commanded and taught us to pardon our enemies and to love them that hate us; grant to them, we beseech thee, a true conversion, and to us the courage to conquer all hatred; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  

It is this Collect, or one very like it, that I should love and hope to hear in many churches tomorrow, and often.

Rubens, the Flagellation of Christ