A LOVELY IDEA

A favorite passage from one of my favorite books is the quote below from Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. Charles Ryder and Sebastian Flyte, two young Englishmen, meet at Oxford in the period between the two world wars. Charles is not a believer, and Sebastian is from an aristocratic Roman Catholic family. After they've been friends for a while, Sebastian brings up the subject of his faith and Catholicism. What follows is the dialogue between the two:

Sebastian: "Oh dear, it’s very difficult being a Catholic!"

Charles: "Does it make much difference to you?"

Sebastian: "Of course. All the time."

Charles: "Well, I can’t say I’ve noticed it. Are you struggling against temptation? You don’t seem much more virtuous than me."

Sebastian: "I’m very, very much wickeder," said Sebastian indignantly."

Charles: "… I suppose they try to make you believe an awful lot of nonsense?”

Sebastian: “Is it nonsense? I wish it were. It sometimes sounds terribly sensible to me."

Charles: “But my dear Sebastian, you can’t seriously believe it all."

Sebastian: "Can’t I?"

Charles: "I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass."

Sebastian: "Oh yes. I believe that. It’s a lovely idea."

Charles: "But you can’t believe things because they’re a lovely idea."

Sebastian: "But I do. That’s how I believe."

I love the passage, because Sebastian's way is how I believe, too.  The entire Christmas story, including the virgin birth, is a lovely idea that points to God's choice to take on human form to become one with us in the person of Jesus Christ, God Incarnate.  Whether the precise details of the story are literally true, that Jesus, Son of God, was born of a young, unwed virgin in a humble stable, laid in a manger, and later visited by angels and shepherds, I choose to believe it, all of it. 

A number of my fellow Christians tell me that though they believe Jesus is God Incarnate, they simply cannot believe in the virgin birth, because such a thing is impossible.  To me, Mary's virginity is simply one of the details of the larger story of God become man in Jesus.  If I believe what seems to me in human terms even more impossible, that God became incarnate and dwelt among humans 2000 years ago and is still alive and with us today, why would I have difficulty believing in the virgin birth?

The picture shows the nativity set my mother made in her ceramics class some years ago.  I didn't put the figures on display this year, because I didn't want Scarlett the Cat to go near them.  Maybe next year.

'SEE, I AM MAKING ALL THINGS NEW'

The oldest icon of Christ Pantocrator, encaustic on panel, c. 6th century (Saint Catherine's Monastery, Mount Sinai).

(Click on the icon for the larger view.)


Today we had a quiet day at my church. The day was fruitful with new insights on God Incarnate, a favorite subject of mine. During part of our quiet time, the image on the upper left was projected on a screen for us to use to meditate if we so chose...to look through the eyes of the icon to see God, which I found easy, since the eyes compel attention.

Certain family members are going through a difficult period right now, and in answer to one question that was posed to us, 'How do you see God?' my answer at the first moment was, 'Missing'. 'God, where are you in the midst of this mess?' I suppose we were to answer truthfully, even though we answered only to ourselves. I know God is in the midst of the mess, but I don't feel God's presence, and I don't see the results from my prayers that I'd like.

The priest who conducted the day of silence gave us several passages from Scripture to read and then ruminate, as he put it, like a cow chews the cud, swallows, and regurgitates, and then chews again, which I thought was helpful imagery. One of the passages assigned was Revelation 21:1-6.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
‘See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’

And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.

Yes, yes, one day, but what about now? And then, as I ruminated, the words struck me with force: ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Right here, right now, God is at work making all things new. Right now, before Christ comes again, God is revealing, moving, changing in relation to all of us involved in the mess, in ways I cannot see, but are nevertheless happening, as I see through the eyes of faith the assurance of things hoped for.

During part of the quiet time, I strolled through the cemetery behind our church, which is a wonderfully peaceful place. I thought of the appropriateness of the reminders all around me of 'dust to dust' in this first week of Lent. I took pictures, too, of the various types of monuments, which I will post later in a picture essay.

Image from Wikipedia.

QUESTION OF THE DAY

If we believe in God Incarnate in Jesus Christ, that God came to be one with us as fully human with joys and sprrows just like ours, why is belief in the Virgin Birth a stumbling block for a good many Christians?

ABOUT THE PRIMATES MEETING AND PRESENCE

From ENInews:

Some archbishops have told Williams they will not attend because of the presence of the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori, and because of recent developments in her province, including the recent election of a lesbian bishop, according to a report in the Times of London.

The quote takes my breath away. Whether or not Mary Glasspool had been ordained a bishop, I expect the mere presence of the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church would have been an obstacle to the attendance of certain bishops at the Primates Meeting, because she is a woman. That the primates would object to the inclusion of Bishop Katharine seems un-Christ-like to me. What, in heaven's name, do the primates make of this passage from Luke's Gospel?

And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’ Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’ ‘Teacher,’ he replied, ‘speak.’ ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ Then turning towards the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’

Luke 7:37-50

In Jesus' time and even today in areas of the Middle East, the woman washing the feet of Jesus would be viewed as an act of surpassing intimacy. That the woman was a notorious sinner made the incident all the more shocking and scandalous.

And then this from Colin Coward at The Changing Attitude:

An article about the French essayist Montaigne and
research involving macaque monkeys in the Guardian review on Saturday by Saul Frampton suggested that there is indeed something of much greater significance in the absence of a number of Primates and even in my own absence from the Primates’ meeting.

Montaigne was concerned with the power of personal presence in moral life and a fascination with how people act on, influence and affect each other through their physical being. I connect this with Christian ideas of incarnation and real presence. We are more fully ourselves and more truly living the divine nature when we are more fully embodied and really present.

A team of neuroscientists at the University of Parma discovered something surprising about the behaviour of certain neurons in the brains of macaque monkeys. The neurons fired not only when the monkeys grasped food but when they saw the experimenter grasp it. These neurons have come to be known as “mirror neurons” or “empathy neurons”. Similar neurons have been found in humans.
....

I don’t need Montaigne’s essays or macaque monkey research to tell me something I believe and know in the core of my being; that God calls us to relationship and intimacy; that getting close to other people, especially those we find difficult and who hold different views, can be uncomfortable, risky and challenging. This is the essence of the Christian faith, of the parable of the good Samaritan, the sheep and the goats, the story of the woman at the well and the power of the crucifixion itself, of Jesus standing in the same place as Pilate, and nailed between two thieves.

To me, Christmas, the celebration of the nativity of Jesus, is the greatest feast in the church. The children get it right. God became incarnate; God CAME DOWN to become one of us, as a sign of God's all-embracing love for us. The wonderful beginning of the Gospel is the part without which none of the rest of the story would have happened. That Jesus walked in the dust with his friends, looked them in the face and in the eye, touched them, ate with them, washed their feet, and allowed his feet to be washed by a woman widely known as a sinner, is a bulwark of my faith.

With Colin, I believe incarnational presence is life-giving to relationships within the Anglican Communion. We meet Jesus when we meet our brothers and sisters in the flesh. I don't mean to say that close relationships can't be formed without physical presence, but, when possible, the relationships should be nourished and solidified by presence, and the primates who won't attend the meeting because of the presence of Bishop Katharine have their Gospel priorities all wrong.

H/T to Simon Sarmiento at Thinking Anglicans for the link to ENInews.

Thanks to Mark Harris at Preludium for the link to Colin Coward's post at The Changing Attitude.