All Saints Homilies
The Living Center
Fr. Pat compares the march of the Israelites through the desert, the Church’s march through history, and the Christian's daily walk.
Sunday, September 5, 2021
Listen now Download audio
Support podcasts like this and more!
Donate Now
Transcript
Sept. 6, 2021, 2:17 a.m.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.



This Sunday separates Ascension Thursday from Pentecost, beloved in the Lord. I think of especially the Sunday of the Church, the mystery of the Church permeates the texts we hear today, as well as the feasts that we observe. The historic ministry of the Church is front and center today. So on this Sunday we commemorate the holy Fathers, the 318 Fathers of the Council of Nicaea in the year 325. This is the Sunday on which we listen to the high priestly prayer of Jesus, where he prays for his apostles, but prays also for all of those to whom they will preach and he will come after them. He prays for the unity of the Church, that we all may be one.



We also hear this text from the 20th chapter of Acts, this second account of a meeting of the bishops or elders of the Church. There are two such meetings in the book of Acts. Maybe we should—should we have a quiz here? Who remembers where the first one is? Where are you, Silouan? [Laughter] This first one, of course, is in chapter 15, isn’t it? It’s called the Council of Jerusalem, where Paul and Barnabas come back and meet with the apostles and elders of the Church. And the big question—what is the big question that faces them in that council? Yeah, can non-Jews be Christians? It’s almost like: Can non-Greeks be Orthodox? [Laughter] We haven’t settled that one yet, apparently! [Laughter] That was the substance of the first council.



The second is the one we read about today, which is quite informal. Paul is heading back to Jerusalem. He wants to get there before Pentecost. Why do we read it today? One week shy of Pentecost. So he doesn’t want to go to Ephesus, because he knows everybody’s going to want to talk to him. He’s been getting emails and telephone calls: “We hear you’re coming this way. Would you have time…?” He decides not to go to Ephesus, but he sends word; when his ship is docking at Miletus, he sends word. He’ll be meeting with the elders of the Church of Ephesus. They’re called elders in this text, presbyteroi; they’re called elders, but notice this morning they were also called episkopoi. This meeting was held at a time between, when there was no discernible difference between the two ministries. We don’t see a clear difference between those ministries until—the first evidence is about 107, Ignatius of Antioch.



Now this second meeting, which is very brief—it really consists in Paul giving them a sermon, an exhortation. Everything is about the succession. The prayer of Jesus was about the succession, not just that the apostles believe, but that those to whom they preached will believe, and that the Church will be preserved to the end of time through the grace of the Holy Spirit.



The second text is entirely about the apostolic succession. Paul says to them this morning, “I know that after I’m gone, wolves are going to rise up among you.” Not from outside: “wolves are going to rise up among you to try to destroy the faith.” So this text is about the apostolic succession of the elders, the bishops of the Church, the succession which is the warrant of their authority in the Church, the grace of the transmission of identity of the Church.



Transmission. Greek word for “transmission”—where is Joanne? Greek word for “transmission”? Paradosis, right? Paradosis, the handing-on. And the Latin version of paradosis is what? A little louder. Oh, you said it first and then you didn’t say it again. Traditio. Traditio, to hand on, to hand over, traditio. Tradition! There’s a song by that name… “Tradition…”



This reading from Acts, I guess also from the gospel, suggests the significance of celebrating the Council of Nicaea on this day. In 325, 318 bishops from as far away as Cordoba in Spain—in fact, the man who presided over the council was Hosius, the bishop of Cordoba in Spain; notice that a Latin presided over that council—all the way over to the Persian Gulf. And from up in faraway places like Romania, people came for this council.



I want to make three points about this mystery of the Church, if I may. First, the Church’s march through history was, I believe, foreshadowed in the march of the Israelites through the desert. This is described in the book of Numbers, the fourth book of the Pentateuch. The march of Israel through the desert. Now, they didn’t do it the way Cecil B. DeMille did. You remember when Charlton Heston freed the people from Egypt? You remember that? You don’t remember that. See, I remember when Moses freed them from… [Laughter] They didn’t march as a big mob; they marched in ranks. Each of the twelve tribes had its own place within the marching. It’s described, at least from the time they leave Sinai; it’s described how they march. Now this is described in the book of Numbers.



This march of the people of God through the desert indicates the structure of the pilgrimage of the people of God throughout the ages. Israel did not march through the desert as a mob, a big crowd. They marched in ranks, each tribe having its own specific place in the procession. In the very center of the procession, the Levites carried the tabernacle, and within, inside the tabernacle, other Levites carried the ark of the covenant. Now, it’s very important that it’s in the very center of the march is the presence of God. And the tabernacle is surrounded on all four sides by the twelve sides of Israel, each in its own specific place.



It’s an orderly march. The Church is not simply a bunch of individuals who happen to believe in the Gospel. No, the Church is not composed of individuals. The Church has a life in which everybody finds his place. With respect to the life of the Church, this structure of Israel’s ancient march indicates that all her aspects are centered on the presence of God in the middle of her. The presence of God is the Church’s core and center, the protected concentration of her being.



People have asked me often over the years, “Is such-and-such a thing essential to the faith?” or whether it’s what they call adiaphora: You might or might not have it. What usually that means is: “How little can I believe and still get into heaven?” That’s what it usually means: let’s get it down to bare minimums. “What little can I believe, what little can I do to get into heaven? Are those fast days really necessary? Are those feast days really necessary? Are those bishops really necessary, or are they simply there because it’s a nice thing to have bishops?”



The only thing that’s essential is the presence of God! But that presence of God will not be there without protection. There has to be a structure, and we’ve inherited that structure. Where have we inherited that structure? Radically, we have inherited it from the apostles. The living center of the Church is made up of the divine mysteries. The Gospel, which is always under attack, the Gospel is… The Gospel just won’t take care of itself. In the center of the Church are the confessed and unaltered faith, once given to the saints. The integrity of the sacraments: we don’t ever mess with the integrity of the sacraments. The canon of the Scriptures. The invaluable purity of the Tradition by which the Church is defined.



Beloved, the Church lives from that precious nucleus which is to be safeguarded at all costs, because if that living and life-giving center does not hold, we are no longer the people of God; we’re just a mob. There may be some Christians left. When Marco Polo arrived in China, he found Christians. The Christians he found were descendants of the Nestorians. He knew they were Christians, they said they were Christians, but all they knew—all they knew about the faith—all they knew was you took your finger and make the sign of the cross over your meal before you ate it—that’s all they knew! They’re Christians—but the Church had disappeared.



Today St. Paul gives the Church that warning, that these wolves will arise from within us and devour the flock. He’s not talking about people from outside, attacks from outside. The greatest threat to the Orthodox Church at this moment has to do with bishops! I won’t bother to name them, except I’ll just say this much: They’re not Antiochians. The Church is going to be threatened from within, within the ministry. That’s why it’s important we don’t change anything except maybe the light bulbs! [Laughter] Except some of them perhaps need it… No, they’re all right.



You see, if we change things—I say we don’t change anything: obviously, we can move the choir to the back of the church; that is not inherited from the apostolic tradition. The apostles left us a certain flexibility. But we’re extremely careful. We do not let any of the secular music get into us. We don’t let that happen; we don’t take it on, because right now in American religion on the whole, secular music absolutely dominates the services. When I go—sometimes I’m asked to come and speak to Christian groups on college campuses. I do that… I actually doing that because I like being around young people. And we hold services, and I’m always astounded they don’t know the hymns. They do not know the hymns. They’re singing melodies which appeared six months earlier on MTV, but now the words have been changed, but they’re still the same melodies that appeared on MTV. You’re not going to keep the faith that way. That’s letting the world dictate the life of the Church.



Now I grant you, if we do this, we may be “successful” for a while, in some respects. If we abandon, for instance, certain components of the inherited worship in order to make the worship more accessible to our contemporaries, it is possible that our membership will initially grow, because we make contact with the religious aspirations of the world around us—but we will have betrayed the faith. This experience of “success” is very suspect, deceptive, and even dangerous. In due course we will learn that we have betrayed the identity of the Lord by permitting the world to change the Church, whereas it is the vocation of the Church to change the world.



It is impossible for the people of God to change the world by giving up its own form. The Church for this reason must move slowly; it must move slowly. The Church must move deliberately. Decisions in the Church should take a long time, a long time to be arrived at. The Church is instinctively cautious not to lose her identifying center.



It’s why we have such strict rules, even on how we do icons. There’s a variety of styles in the Church of iconography, but there are limits, and the limits are determined by canons. I’ve noticed… I found this when we started our own icon academy some years ago. We had to be very careful who was even teaching iconography in this academy. I remember when we first were meeting for iconography school up in Wisconsin. There were people coming there who thought Mary Magdalene should have a nicer hat. Why? Well, people nowadays can’t identify… If you look like this, see, the way she’s dressed, with her veil—I mean, who’s going to identify with this? So let’s doll her up a little bit; let’s change it. In other words, let’s meet the expectations of the world.



It is likely the Orthodox Church will always be a little behind the times. Mmm, roughly a thousand years. That’s about right. [Laughter] I believe this is a very small price to pay for the integrity and maintenance of our identity. We will not, like Esau, sell our birthright cheaply.



Second, Christian thought must come from the center, not from the borders of the Church. We will not serve the faith well if we permit its formulation to come from outside. Sometimes the world simply will not understand. That’s the world’s problem. We’re going to do the best we can to make the world understand, but therein lies the peril. You see, the defense of the faith, which is part of the proclamation of the faith, is called apologetics, right? Apologia; it’s called apologetics. I’ve occasionally spoken to you of my conviction that apologetics is the most dangerous part of Christian thought. The reason for this is simple: apologetics is the discipline of making the Gospel accessible to the world’s understanding.



You see, truly to grasp who Christ is, one must already be in Christ. The trick is to get there. This discipline of apologetics is a necessary, important aspect of evangelism. There are those who fancy that we’re going to bring people to Christ by bringing them to the Church, and bring them in, and they’re going to have an artistic experience of the worship of the Church, we’re going to have a good social experience by making friends within the Church, and somehow or other we’re going to get them into the Church. The only way into the Christian Church is conversion, total change of heart. That’s the only way in.



That might be done gradually, but to expect somebody who is unconverted to come into the house of God and have the foggiest idea of what is going on, we’re kidding ourselves. There remains the ongoing danger that our efforts to make the Gospel more accessible to unbelievers may, if only by inadvertence, alter some important and essential dimension of the Gospel.



Let me give you what I think is a fairly understandable example. The modern world, taking its cue from the expectations of the physical sciences, is fond of logical coherence, precision, and symmetry. That’s what you have in science. If you don’t have coherence and symmetry, it’s very likely the bridge you construct is going to collapse; the transmission you have in your car is not going to work. But, see, that’s simply a scientific bias. Let me say that one more time: That’s simply a scientific bias. We presume because it works in science that that’s the ideal.



Some of the world’s most significant forms, in fact, are not symmetric; they’re not symmetric. Not everything is supposed to be symmetric. Has anybody ever seen a symmetric cloud? Has anybody ever seen a symmetric key? No, they don’t work. Has anyone ever seen a symmetric sonnet? Ever read a symmetric sonnet? There isn’t any such thing. A sonnet is composed of an octave and a sestet, not two sets of seven lines. The vitality of a sonnet depends in great measure on the tension between two unequal parts: an octave and a sestet.



Back in the 14th century when Giacomo da Lentini first wrote, started writing in sonnets, he had a particular thing in mind. He composed sonnets in the form of an argument. You see, in an argument, the proposition is always more involved than the conclusion, isn’t it? I’m looking for some look of recognition here that what I’m saying is making sense. [Laughter] Two and two is more complicated and more involved than four. So you say, “Two and two,” “Four,” notice that two and two is longer than four. That’s the simplest way I can do it. A major and a minor; then you get a conclusion. A sonnet is composed that way. A proposition is made the first eight lines.



Much have I traveled in the realms of gold,
  [And] many good[ly states and] kingdoms seen;
  Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.




It’s not coming…



[Oft of one] wide expanse had I been told…




There’s your octave: eight lines. Then you rest. Six lines.



Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
  When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
  He stared at the Pacific—and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise—
  Silent, upon a peak in Darien.




You notice there: action, rest. You see, it’s not symmetry. It’s not symmetry.



The vitality of the sonnet depends in great measure on the tension between unequal parts. So much of life is like that. That is not scientific. A chemist would never have done that. You can test this theory if you want this week. I just mentioned “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer” by John Keats. If you want to really have a good weeks, there’s 154 sonnets by Shakespeare, for example. You can have at it. I’m particularly fond of number 12, but I’m not going to burden you with that any further.



The vitality of a sonnet, as well as the accuracy of a key, is related to this asymmetry of its composition. You will notice that almost everything in the Church is asymmetric. Almost everything in the Church is asymmetric! The vitality we enjoy in sonnets we also hope to find in symphonies and sunsets. They’re not symmetric. Thus, in the Church, we have an eternal Father; we do not have an eternal Mother. Do you know how much that drives the world up the wall? Do you have any idea? [Baby cries] I give you that as an exhibit! [Laughter] I mean, it really bothered him!



Back when I taught history of religions in college—before I came here, I taught that subject in an all-women’s college. It was really quite an experience, because eventually I would have to take Christianity, and it was okay while we were doing Buddhism, Hinduism and things like that, but when I got to Judaism and the Christian faith, I simply had to tell them, “If you’re going to be honest, Judaism and the Gospel are radically patriarchal.” Radically! It can’t even be challenged. If it’s challenged, you no longer have Judaism; you no longer have Christianity. It’s essentially patriarchal. You see, patriarchy is something asymmetric, but it is absolutely essential to Christian faith.



This fact all by itself drives the modern world into a frenzy. Article by article, the Nicene Creed demonstrates a vital asymmetry as part of the dynamism. Something in the Creed is always off-balance, because it’s keeping emotion going. And virtually every major heresy condemned by the Church took its rise in a quest for symmetry, in the effort to make the Gospel accessible to unbelievers. To return to the imagery of our metaphor, this activity is directed to the world outside the Church and runs the constant danger of putting the core of the divine mysteries in peril.



Third and finally, beloved, what is true of the people of God, as a whole, is also true of each believer. Each believer must keep inviolate in his center that core of his being where he is in communion with God. We believers must live from that center, that core inside us, where we know God, trust in God, and live under the gaze of God. We must not permit ourselves to be deflected from this attention by any outside influence. That’s why it’s imperative that we do not engage in any activity, even intellectual and imaginative activity, that would endanger that spiritual center. That is the place from which we work; when we work in the world, we work from inside there. That’s the place from which we study; that’s the place from which we enjoy life.



Nothing must endanger that vital center. The believer must maintain the flame that burns before God in the tabernacle of his heart. He must see that an inner core of Levites—make sure that you have plenty of Levites inside yourself—a core of Levites stand vigilant over that living center of his being. Amen.

About
These sermons are from All Saints Antiochian Church in Chicago, IL, preached by Fr. Patrick Reardon. If you enjoy these homilies, you might also be interested in reading Fr. Pat’s Daily Reflections on Holy Scripture.
English Talk
Where is the Love that Moves Mountains?