Showing posts with label Endurance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Endurance. Show all posts

Sunday, 22 November 2015

On Christ’s Nature

The Feast of the Reign of Christ
ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in thy well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
The Sunday Next before Advent
STIR Up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
One of the early controversy’s over Christ’s nature in the early Church involved acceptance of his humanity. This seems a bit off for Christians and non-Christians today, for whom acceptance of his humanity is easy and it is the acceptance of his divinity which proves troubling for many, but which is a mandatory matter of faith for Christians, as it says in the Nicene Creed, Christ is, “God, of God; Light, of Light; Very God, of very God… Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven, And was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, And was made man.” Christ is fully God and fully man. In St Paul’s letters, and indeed throughout the entire New Testament, there is another narrative on Christ, one which can perhaps be traced back to some of Isaiah’s prophecies on Christ.

Isaiah 53 is the famous prophecy of the suffering servant. Famous among Christians because it is often read in Advent, foretelling the coming of Christ:
He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isa 53. 3)
The idea of the suffering servant was something difficult for Jews to reconcile with the the Messiah. To them, he was going to be like one of the Judges; a military leader sent to unity the Jews and drive out the oppressors, in this case the Romans.

It is from some of these earliest prophetic Scriptures about Christ that we begin to understand that the earlier conception of Christ as being only glory and hope were incomplete.

Suffering and hope function together in Scripture. St Paul famously recounts in his epistle to the Romans how suffering produces endurance and character which leads to hope. He then goes on to more explicitly state that our hope is found in Christ, in that, “while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us,” (Rm 5. 6, 8).

In our Christian walk, it is common to look with anticipation for glory and hope. Our faith is, after all, the writer of Hebrews says, “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” (Heb 11. 1). We have hope in salvation through Christ. It is through his sacrifice that we have hope for reconciliation with him and anointing in the Holy Spirit. This is no mean thing, and it is on Christ’s death and resurrection that Christian faith hinges.

For some, there are times when they cannot see God’s love and when hope seems beyond reason. There are times when all we can see is Christ’s suffering, or read about the oppression and captivity of the Jews in the Old Testament. St Paul himself suffered greatly during his ministry, but never allowed his perspective to become dominated by his own suffering. No matter what, he  held to the hope of salvation offered in Christ.

The wholeness of Christ is to recognize that he came both with suffering and with joy. As Nicky Gumbel points out, “the Christian faith uniquely combines laughter and tears, joy and solemnity.” In Psalm 126 we are told:
Those who sow in tears
    shall reap with shouts of joy!
He who goes out weeping,
    bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
    bringing his sheaves with him. (Ps 126. 5, 6)
The duality of Christ is held in these verses. Christ does not promise that we will live a life of ease, he promises truth and asks us to follow him to come to know his Father. Very explicitly, Christ says, “And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me,” (St Mt 10. 38). There is promise of great glory, but never to the exclusion of suffering or pain.

In the midst of suffering, it is possible that it cane dominate our perspective, excluding any consideration of hope or glory. St Paul reminds us, though, that, “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us,” (Rm 8. 18). When we place our sufferings in their eternal context, they are made incomparably small next to the glory that awaits those who have faith in Christ Jesus.

There is comfort for those who suffer both in their future prospects and also in the present time. Christ foretold the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. In a number of places throughout Holy Scripture, the Holy Spirit is described as a comforter. The Holy Spirit comes alongside us and dwells within us to comfort and strengthen us. Perhaps most comfortingly, in those times of extreme suffering when we cannot form words to express our suffering and petitions to God to help us endure, St Paul tells us that, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words,” (Rm 8. 26). God hears our hearts, and indeed through Christ’s human nature is able to share in our human suffering. Indeed, St James reminds us of the hope in our suffering in that he who perseveres in suffering is blessed, “for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him,” (Jas 1. 12).

Christ’s dual nature is one that reminds us of his own teachings: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world,” (St Jn 16. 33). This life is one of tears and joy, one in which we, in Christ, have married together suffering and endurance with hope and joy. When we are faced with suffering, it is not an indication of the absence of God, but rather a natural course of our lives in which we are called to mirror Christ’s suffering and endure, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, so that in the end we will inherit the joy and glory that has been promised to us.

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Wisdom of Saints: St Hilda of Whitby

Feast of Hilda, Abbess of Whitby, 680
O GOD Most High, the creator of all mankind, we bless thy holy Name for the virtue and grace which thou hast given unto holy women in all ages, especially thy servant Hilda; and we pray that the example of her faith and purity, and courage unto death, may inspire many souls in this generation to look unto thee, and to follow thy blessed Son Jesus Christ our Saviour; who with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God, world without end. Amen.
Details of St Hilda’s life are few and far between, with most of the account coming from St Bede’s history of the English Church in which he devotes a chapter to her life (Book 4, Chapter 23). Her story is notable for her piety, devotion to Scripture, her wisdom and role in the Synod at Whitby and finally by virtue of the fact that as a woman she retained the respect and influence that she did in seventh century Christendom.

St Hilda was born in 614 in Northumbria in England. Her father was Prince Hereric of Deira and her mother Lady Bregswith. Her father was the nephew of King Edwin of Northumbria. Born pagan, King Edwin was converted to Christianity around 627 and the royal household followed suit, with St Hilda being baptised that year at the age of thirteen.

While there is justifiable scepticism over whether or not someone has truly come to faith when they are converted to Christianity as the result of a monarch of head of their household being converted, St Hilda demonstrated throughout her life a profound commitment to Christ, and deep wisdom that comes from God (Jas 1. 5; 3. 17). St Bede records that when Hilda was still young and at a point when they were living in exile under Cedric, king of the Britons, her mother, Lady Bregswith, had a dream in which her husband, Hereric, was taken away from her and she was searching for him. No matter where she looked, she couldn’t find him. Finally she found a necklace and as she examined it the necklace blazed with bright light that filled all Britain with its brilliance. The dream is considered prophetic of St Hilda’s life, as her love of Christ, the wisdom she gave and the exemplar life she lived shone forth Christ’s light throughout Britain.

While she is viewed as having a devout and chaste youth, it wasn’t until she had reached maturity that she became determined to fully dedicate her life to Christ. At the age of 33, St Hilda chose the consecrated life, having become a nun in the Benedictine order. She had originally sought to travel to the continent. St Bede describes her determination, saying she sought, “to live an exile for our Lord’s sake… so that she might the more easily attain her eternal heavenly home.” St Bede goes on to record that St Aidan of Lindisfarne, known as the Apostle of Northumbria due to his missionary work throughout Northumbria, called on St Hilda to establish monasteries in Northumbria rather than simply living abroad. While himself a bishop, St Aidan was firmly rooted in the monastic Celtic traditions which had Christianised Britain from Iona in the north, rather than in the Roman tradition which had begun at Canterbury in the south.

St Hilda remained in Northumbria, and her noble upbringing aided in her establishment of a number of successful monasteries throughout the region. She was first made Abbess of the monastery called Heruteu (modern Hartlepool). There she earned an even greater reputation for piety and devotion to God. While she herself was Benedictine, she organized the monsastery using the traditions of St Columba and the Rule of the Irish Church. After some time as Abbess there, she established a new double monastery called Streanaeshalch, known more commonly as Whitby in 657. It was established under the same strict disciplines and Rule of Life as her previous monastery had been governed, but in this case the double monastery provided both for monks and nuns. Hilda as Abbess was considered both just, fair and wise, and as her reputation, particularly for wisdom, grew she began to be sought out for counsel by all manner of people, from bishops to kings.

She was extremely devoted to the study of Holy Scripture—a notable commonality among many of the wisest of saints—and it should be no surprise that no less than five of the monks who entered her monastery would eventually go on to ordination and consecration as bishops.

It should be noted that as an Abbess in the Celtic tradition, she was the supreme authority in the area, above even the bishops. This historical development stemmed from the missionary reality that bishops were based in cities which were connected by roads, whereas when St Patrick arrived in Ireland there were no cities or roads and so it was the monasteries that he formed which became central to the administration and maintenance of faith. When St Columba brought to the faith to Iona, that monastic-based form of Christianity began to spread throughout Britain, and was the tradition in which St Hilda had been raised.

This placed St Hilda in an important position when her monastery played host to the Synod at Whitby in 664, a synod convened to seek to determine the future of the Church in the region and whether it would continue in the Celtic tradition or would seek to adopt the more Roman styled Christianity which had arrived in Kent. St Hilda herself was a supporter of her own tradition, though the Synod ultimately sided with Rome.

In 673 and for the remainder of her life, she was afflicted with a painful illness. St Bede described it, saying God gave:
her holy soul the trial of a long infirmity of the flesh, to the end that, according to the Apostle’s example, her virtue might be made perfect in weakness. Struck down with a fever, she suffered from a burning heat, and was afflicted with the same trouble for six years continually; during all which time she never failed either to return thanks to her Maker, or publicly and privately to instruct the flock committed to her charge; for taught by her own experience she admonished all men to serve the Lord dutifully, when health of body is granted to them, and always to return thanks faithfully to Him in adversity, or bodily infirmity.
Her ability to endure and rejoice in suffering and her continued faith and rejoicing in the midst of great physical pain was an example to many, and again helped to bring many to faith in Christ by her example.

St Hilda was a patron of the arts and writing, beyond promoting learning, particularly study of the Scriptures, and some of the only words of her own in existance are a poem attributed to her, which if not written by the saint herself, certainly exemplifies her faith and teachings:

Trade with the gifts God has given you.
Bend your minds to holy learning,
that you may escape the fretting moth of
littleness of mind that would wear out your souls.

Brace your wills to action
that they may not be the spoils of weak desires.

Train your hearts and lips to song
which gives courage to the soul.
Being buffeted by trials, learn to laugh.
Being reproved, give thanks.
Having failed, determine to succeed.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

On Endurance and Joy

The Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity
O LORD, we beseech thee, let thy continual pity cleanse and defend thy Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without thy succour, preserve it evermore by thy help and goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
A few weeks back, the first few verses of Romans 5 were used to frame a discussion of suffering and endurance. There is an interesting counter-point to the question of suffering, though, and that is happiness. What is happiness and does God want us to be happy? It seems a simple enough question, but in reality there are a lot of particular issues which must be considered in light of what happiness ought to mean to a Christian.

In our secular Western society, happiness is very strongly tied to material possessions. John Locke’s treatises on government had a significant influence on Western political thought. His famous line “life, liberty and property,” was adapted in the American Declaration of Independence to suggest that all men have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The pursuit of happiness is equated with the accumulation of material possession. While this explicit example is American, it is easy to see how consumerism and commercialism have vast influence throughout the Western world, and influence the minds of many Christians. The heresy of Prosperity Gospel is firmly rooted in the notion that God wants us all to be happy, and thus that he will reward the faithful with material wealth.

If not wealth then, what is happiness? The satisfaction of our desires? In a manner of speaking this could be viewed as something God wants for us, but only at a certain point in our Christian journey. For God desires not happiness as we define it, but rather joy. Surely joy is just an extreme of happiness, however? Again, not precisely. Used imprecisely and in common secular use today, joy is merely an extreme of happiness. A child might express joy over receiving a gift they truly desired, or some other unexpected fulfilment of a wish or desire. To a Christian, however, Scripture tells us something else about joy.

Going back to the question of suffering (as the question, “doesn’t God want me to be happy?” can often come up while enduring suffering), we see that suffering leads to endurance, which leads to character, which leads to hope which is in Christ. Suffering and endurance have previously been explored, which leaves an understanding of character and hope, and how they relate to joy, as opposed to happiness.

Character, it would seem, is a form of understanding. It is the progress we make from enduring our suffering to understanding our endurance. It is the time when we approach suffering from the perspective of “God, why have you allowed this to happen to me?” and instead, Like St Paul, are able to rejoice in our sufferings for the opportunities it provides and the faith it illuminates. The Epistle of James puts it this way, “for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing,” (Jas 1. 3, 4).

Our character builds up our faith, which leads to assurance of hope, which is in Christ. In hope, therefore, we have joy. As St Paul continues in Romans:
For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. (Romans 5. 6-11)
Here, St Paul speaks to what hope is. It is the hope we are offered in Christ’s sacrifice and the creation of an opportunity for reconciliation with God.

If our hope is in the assurance of reconciliation, then surely our joy is in reconciliation itself. For the entire salvation story aims for this as its goal of reconciliation with God, and is a process of sanctification by which we become more as God intended and more of the image and likeness of God. St Ignatius of Loyala suggests, “It is not hard to obey when we love the one whom we obey.” This love of God, as St Bernard of Clairvaux expounds on, affects how we perceive God, our relationship with him, our own sanctification and even our goals in life.

Joy is experienced in multiple ways in our life, however. It is sometimes contextual, and sometimes is not contextual. When we experience joy during difficult trials or other situations in which one would not expect the feeling of happiness. This again is proof that God’s joy is not simply something that relates to happiness but rather to God. Joy is incarnational; it is not always attached to circumstances which can be perceived on this earth, but instead reflects a breaking in or glimpse of God. It is a preview of what we are to experience in Heaven. In The Weight of Glory, CS Lewis writes:
At present, if we are reborn in Christ, the spirit in us lives directly on God; but the mind, and still more the body, receives life from Him at a thousand removes—through our ancestors, through our food, through the elements. The faint, far-off results of those energies which God’s creative rapture implanted in matter when He made the worlds are what we now call physical pleasures; and even thus filtered, they are too much for our present management. What would it be to taste at the fountain-head that stream of which even these lower reaches prove so intoxicating? Yet that, I believe, is what lies before us. The whole man is to drink joy from the fountain of joy.
This further explains at times why, even when something occurs that fulfils our personal desires, we do not feel either joy or happiness. Contextual joy is similarly created in doing what pleases God. When we do something that pleases ourselves but separates us from God, we are no closer to feeling his joy. When we do something that we know pleases him, however, it can bring us closer to that joy.

So then, does God want us to be happy? Well, not really. What God truly and earnestly desires is for reconciliation with us, for the joy that it will bring both us and him. Happiness is fleeting, and fickle, produced of our own desires. Joy on the other hand is of God, incarnations of his love for us and his desire that we be reconciled to him.

If happiness can in some manner be related to John Locke’s philosophy of life, liberty and property, then perhaps for the Christian, joy may be found in a life of service to God, freedom in Christ, and the pursuit of salvation.