Ambrose on the Psalms

Here's a great meditation from Ambrose on the Book of Psalms:

Though all Scripture is fragrant with God’s grace, the Book of Psalms has a special attractiveness.
 

Moses wrote the history of Israel’s ancestors in prose, but after leading the people through the Red Sea—a wonder that remained in their memory—he broke into a song of triumph in praise of God when he saw King Pharaoh drowned along with his forces.  His genius soared to a higher level, to match an accomplishment beyond his own powers.
 

Miriam too raised her timbrel and sang encouragement for the rest of the women, saying:  “Let us sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously; He has cast horse and rider into the sea.”
 

In the Book of Psalms there is profit for all, with healing power for our salvation.  There is instruction from history, teaching from the law, prediction from prophecy, chastisement from denunciation, persuasion from moral preaching.  All who read it may find the cure for their own individual failings.  All with eyes to see can discover in it a complete gymnasium for the soul, a stadium for all the virtues, equipped for every kind of exercise; it is for each to choose the kind each judges best to help gain the prize.
 

If you wish to read and imitate the deeds of the past, you will find the whole history of the Israelites in a single psalm:  in one short reading you can amass a treasure for the memory. If you want to study the power of the law, which is summed up in the bond of charity (“Who loves their neighbor has fulfilled the law”), you may read in the psalms of the great love with which one person faced serious dangers singlehandedly in order to remove the shame of the whole people.  You will find the glory of charity more than a match for the parade of power.
 

What am I to say of the grace of prophecy?  We see that what others hinted at in riddles was promised openly and clearly to the psalmist alone:  the Lord Jesus was to be born of David’s seed, according to the word of the Lord:  “I will place upon your throne one who is the fruit of your flesh.”
 

In the psalms, then, not only is Jesus born for us, He also undergoes His saving passion in His body, He lies in death, He rises again, He ascends into heaven, He sits at the right hand of the Father.  What no one would have dared to say was foretold by the psalmist alone, and afterward proclaimed by the Lord himself in the Gospel. (Explanation on Psalm 1, 4, 7-8; cited in J. Robert Wright, Readings for the Daily Office from the Early Church, 318-319)

Pastors as Sheepdogs

I first encountered the following quote from Evelyn Underhill when I attended "DOXOLOGY: The Gathering" back in January 2009. What a tremendous picture it is for refocusing a pastor's attention on his proper vocation! I've also used it to teach my congregation what a pastor's job really is, and the most recent attempt at this came in this past Sunday's homily for "Good Shepherd Sunday," a.k.a. the Third Sunday of Easter. For all of my brothers in office, may these words and this image help you, as it has helped me, to "transcend mere dogginess."

Now those sheep-dogs that afternoon gave me a much better address on the way in which pastoral work among souls should be done that I shall be able to give you. They were helping the shepherd to deal with a lot of very active sheep and lambs, to persuade them into the right pastures, to keep them from rushing down the wrong paths. And how did the successful dog do it? Not by barking, fuss, ostentatious authority, any kind of busy behaviour. The best dog that I saw never barked once; and he spent an astonishing amount of his time sitting perfectly still, looking at the shepherd. The communion of spirit between them was perfect. They worked as a unit. Neither of them seemed anxious or in a hurry. Neither was committed to a rigid plan; they were always content to wait. That dog was the docile and faithful agent of another mind. He used his whole intelligence and initiative, but always in obedience to his master’s directive will; and was ever prompt at self-effacement. The little mountain sheep he had to deal with were amazingly tiresome, as expert in doubling and twisting and going the wrong way as any naughty little boy. The dog went steadily on with it; and his tail never ceased to wag.

What did that mean? It meant that his relation to the shepherd was the centre of his life; and because of that, he enjoyed doing his job with the sheep, he did not bother about the trouble, nor get discouraged with the apparent results. The dog had transcended mere dogginess. His actions were dictated by something right beyond himself. He was the agent of the shepherd, working for a scheme which was not his own and the whole of which he could not grasp; and it was just that which was the source of the delightedness, the eagerness, and also the discipline with which he worked. But he would not have kept that peculiar and intimate relation unless he had sat down and looked at the shepherd a great deal.

[Evelyn Underhill, “The Teacher’s Vocation,” Collected Papers of Evelyn Underhill, Lucy Menzies, ed. (New York: Longmans, Green and Co., Inc., 1946), pp. 182-183.]

Comforted by the Resurrection

“Faced with Death We Are Comforted by the Resurrection”

by Ephraim the Syrian

Christ the Resurrector will appear in the heights of glory. He will bring the dead to life and raise those in the graves. The children of Adam, who was made of earth, will all arise together and give praise to the Resurrector of the dead.

Let not your hearts be sad, ye mortals. The Lord’s day shall come and He will awaken and gladden us who have reposed. Those who have kept the law shall be roused before the Lord, and the angels shall rejoice in the day of resurrection.

Let not your souls be sorrowful, ye who were redeemed by the cross and called into the kingdom. The Lord’s day shall come; He will give voice to the deceased and the dead will arise and give Him praise.

Let us glorify and worship Jesus, the Word of God, Who, according to His love, came to save us by His cross and is coming again to resurrect Adam’s children in the great day when His majesty shall shine forth.

Grieve not, ye mortals, over your corruption. Christ the King shall shine forth from on high; He who is omnipotent shall beckon and thus raise the dead from their graves, and clothe them with glory in His kingdom.

If death has reigned and laid waste to our nature because Adam sinned and violated the commandment, then shall we not be justified and saved all the more by the sufferings of Christ Who has vanquished death and vindicated our nature?

Our Lord has granted the deceased hope and consolation, for He Himself rose from the grave, vanquished death, promised resurrection and life, and bestowed great blessings on Adam and all his children.

Praise and glory to the Father Who created us, to the Son Who saved us by His cross, and to the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, to the all-praised and incomprehensible Trinity Who raises the dead and clothes their bodies with glory. (A Spiritual Psalter, #149, p. 231-32)

Meditation for Holy Saturday

The Lord’s Descent into Hell

An Ancient Homily

What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled. Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam’s son. The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: “My Lord be with you all.” And Christ in reply says to Adam: “And with your spirit.” And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.” “I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise.” “I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person.” (From the Fathers to the Churches, pp. 297-298; cited in For All the Saints: A Prayer Book For and By the Church, vol. III, p. 1037)

The Blind Man

This evening's reading from For All the Saints is Mark 8:11-26, and this poem by one Howard Arnold Walter (1883-1918) complements the reading quite well:

The blind man, bowed in sordid helplessness,
A sound of footsteps caught,
“The Healer comes,” they cried, and through the press
The hapless wretch they brought.
With wild hope born of uttermost distress,
The healing touch he sought.
A hand reached forth in potent tenderness—
The miracle was wrought.

Strangely he stares. “What does thou see?” they cry.
“I see men walk as trees.”
Again the cool hand strokes each aching eye,
The last dim shadow flees:
Not moving shapes but live men, drawing nigh,
Now far and clear he sees.
To each he tells how God’s own Son came by
And healed his dire disease.

Dungeoned by self, we too besought His hand
Our shuttered eyes to free.
His touch bestowed, dumb, stricken crowds we scanned,
And guessed their misery.
Lord Christ, Thy second touch our hearts demand,
Each separate soul to see.
His wounds to salve, his wants to understand,
And lead him home to Thee.

(Wednesday of Epiphany 4; cited in For All the Saints: A Prayer Book For and By the Church, volume I, page 334.)

Great words for trying times

From Bernard of Clairvaux:

Lord, it is good for me to be in distress, provided that you are there with me; that is much better for me than to reign without you, rejoice without you, or be glorified without you. It is far better for me to cleave to you in distress, to have you with me in the crucible than to be without you in heaven. For what have I in heaven, and from you what have I wished upon earth? "Gold is tried in fire and the just in the trials of distress." It is there, among those who are gathered in your name that you are present, as once you were with the three young men [Daniel 3].

Why should we be afraid and make every effort to flee from the crucible? The fire burns, but the Lord is with us in distress. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" If it is also he who saves, who can charm us out of his hand? Who could snatch us from his hand? Finally, if it is God who glorifies, who can deprive us of glory and humiliate us?

"With length of days will I gratify you." answers the Lord. this says clearly: I know what you desire, what you thirst for, and what you crave. You do not crave gold or silver, sensual pleasures, curiosities, or dignities of any kind. All of these are of no help to you; there is no cure except for you to humble yourself in the depths of your heart and refuse to give your attention to what cannot satisfy you. You are not unaware in whose image you have been created and of what greatness you are capable; you do not want a meager profit to be for you the occasion of an immense frustration. Hence, "with length of days will I gratify you," for only the true Light can restore you, only the eternal Light can satisfy you--that Light whose length knows no end, whose brightness knows no dimming, and whose fullness knows no completion. (Commentary on Psalm 91, sermon 17, 4-6: PL 183, 252-253; cited in J. Robert Wright, Readings for the Daily Office from the Early Church, p. 243)