Posted on

Audience Pleaser

Zenit’s translation of Pope Benedict’s audience talk on St. John Chrysostom:

This year marks the 16th centenary of the death of St. John Chrysostom (407-2007). John of Antioch was called Chrysostom, “golden-mouthed,” for his eloquence. It could be said he is still alive today through his written works. An anonymous copyist wrote that his works “go across the globe like lighting.” His writings enable us — as they did for the faithful of his time, who were repeatedly deprived of him because of his exiles — to live with his books, despite his absence. This was the advice he himself gave in one of his letters written from exile (cf. “To Olympia, Letter” 8:45).

Born around the year 349 in Antioch in Syria (modern-day Antakya, in south Turkey), he carried out his priestly ministry for about 11 years. In 397, he was appointed bishop of Constantinople. He exercised the episcopal ministry in the capital of the empire, before his two exiles which happened within a few years of each other, between 403 and 407. Today we limit ourselves to considering Chrysostom’s years in Antioch.

Orphaned by his father at a young age, he lived with his mother, Anthusa, who instilled in him an exquisite human sensitivity and a profound Christian faith. He completed his elementary and higher studies, crowned by courses in philosophy and rhetoric. Libanius, a pagan, was his teacher. At his school, John became the greatest orator of late Ancient Greece. Baptized in 368 and formed in the ecclesiastical life by Bishop Meletius, he was ordained as a lector by him in 371. This marked Chrysostom’s official entrance into the ecclesiastical “cursus.” He attended, from 367-372, the “Asceterium,” a kind of seminary in Antioch, together with a group of young men, some of whom later became bishops, under the guidance of the famous exegete Diodorus of Tarsus, who taught John historical-literal exegesis, characteristic of the Antiochian tradition.

He retreated for four years among the hermitages on nearby Mount Silpius. And then he continued his retreat for another two years, living alone in a grotto under the guidance of an “elder.” During that time he dedicated himself entirely to meditating on “the laws of Christ,” the Gospels and especially Paul’s letters. Falling ill, he found it impossible to take care of himself, and therefore he returned to the Christian community of Antioch (cf. Palladium, “Life” 5).

The Lord — a biographer explains — intervened at the right time to enable John to follow his true vocation. In effect, he himself would write that if he had to choose between the crosses of governing the Church or the tranquility of the monastic life, he would have preferred pastoral service a thousand times over (cf. “On the Priesthood,” 6:7): Chrysostom felt called to this.

And here we see the decisive turning point of his vocation story: full-time pastor of souls! Intimacy with the Word of God, cultivated during the years in the hermitage, matured in him the irresistible urgency to preach the Gospel, to give to others what he received during years of meditation. The ideal missionary was thus launched, a soul afire, into pastoral care.

Between 378 and 379 he returned to the city. Ordained a deacon in 381 and a priest in 386, he became a celebrated preacher in the churches of his city. He gave homilies against the Arians, followed by those commemorating the martyrs of Antioch and others on principal liturgical feasts: constituting a great teaching of faith in Christ, in light of his saints.

The year 387 was John’s “heroic year,” the so-called statue revolt. The people knocked down the imperial statues, as a sign of protest against tax increases. During those days of Lent and anguish because of the emperor’s punishments, he gave his 22 vibrant “Homilies on Statues,” directed toward penance and conversion. What followed was a period of serene pastoral care (387-397).

Chrysostom is counted among the most prolific Fathers, having written 17 treatises, 700 authentic homilies, commentaries on Matthew and Paul (Letters to the Romans, to the Corinthians, to the Ephesians and to the Hebrews), and 241 letters. He was not a speculative theologian. However he transmitted the traditional and certain doctrine of the Church in an age of theological controversies caused above all by Arianism, that is, by the negation of Christ’s divinity. He is therefore a trustworthy witness of the dogmatic development of the Church in the fourth-fifth century.

His is an exquisitely pastoral theology, in which there is constant concern for the coherence between the thought expressed by the word and lived existence. It is this, in particular, the common thread of the splendid catecheses, with which he prepared the catechumens to receive baptism. Just before he died, he wrote that man’s value is found in the “exact knowledge of true doctrine and in rectitude of life” (“Letter From Exile”). The two things, knowledge of the truth and rectitude of life, go together: Knowledge must become life. Every one of his discourses aimed at developing in the faithful the exercise of intelligence, of true reason, in order to understand and put into practice moral needs and precepts of the faith.

John Chrysostom tried to assist, through his writings, the integral development of the person, in the physical, intellectual and religious dimension. The various phases of growth are comparable to as many seas in an immense ocean.

“The first of these seas is infancy” (Homily 81:5 “On the Gospel of Matthew”). Therefore “in this first stage inclinations to vice and virtue begin to show.” That is why God’s law must be impressed on the soul from the beginning “as on a table of wax” (Homily 3:1 “On the Gospel of John”). In fact this is the most important age. We must be aware how important it is that in this first phase of life the major orientations that give the right perspective to existence truly enter into man. Chrysostom therefore recommends: “From a very young age, arm children with spiritual weapons, and teach them to make the sign of the cross on their foreheads” (Homily 12:7 “On the First Letter to the Corinthians”).

Then follows adolescence and boyhood: “The sea of adolescence follows that of childhood, where violent winds blow … because concupiscence grows within us” (Homily 81:5 “On the Gospel of Matthew”).

Lastly there is engagement and marriage: “After boyhood comes the age of maturity, in which the duties of family life abound: It is the time to look for a wife” (ibid). He recalls the goals of marriage, enriching them — with an appeal to the virtue of temperance — with a rich tapestry of personalized relationships. Spouses who are well prepared block, in this way, the road to divorce: Everything is carried out joyfully and one can educate their children to virtue. When the first child is born, this is “like a bridge; the three become one flesh, so that the child links the two parts (Homily 12:5 “On the Letter to the Colossians”), and the three make up “one family, a little Church” (Homily 20:6 “On the Letter to the Ephesians”).

Chrysostom’s preaching took place regularly during the liturgy, the “place” in which the community is built up by the word and the Eucharist. Here the assembly, gathered together, expresses the only Church (Homily 8:7 “On the Letter to the Romans”), the same word is addressed to everyone in every place (Homily 24:2 “On the First Letter to the Corinthians”), and the Eucharistic Communion becomes an efficacious sign of unity (Homily 32:7 “On the Gospel of St. Matthew”).

His pastoral project was inserted into the life of the Church, in which the lay faithful, through baptism, assume the priestly, kingly and prophetic office. To the lay faithful he said: “Baptism also makes you king, priest and prophet” (Homily 3:5 “On the Second Letter to the Corinthians”). From this comes the Church’s fundamental task of mission, because each one in some way is responsible for the salvation of others: “This is the principle of our social life … to think not just of ourselves!” (Homily 9:2 “On Genesis”). Everything takes place between these two poles: the big Church and the “little Church,” the family, in a reciprocal relationship.

As you can see, dear brothers and sisters, this lesson of Chrysostom on the authentically Christian presence of the lay faithful in the family and in society, is important today more than ever. Let us pray that the Lord render us docile to the lessons of this great teacher of the faith.

So you can see why I’m nervous about the paper I’m giving on St. John next week, for my dear friends in the Society of St. John Chrysostom. Please pray for me!

The celebration, which will mark the 1,600th anniversary of St. John’s death, begins with Vespers on Saturday, September 29, 6 p.m. at Holy Trinity Romanian Orthodox Church, Wick Ave in Youngstown, Ohio. I’m told that advance tickets are required.

St. John loved to say it throughout his life. It was a fitting coda at the end: Glory to God for all things!

Posted on

The Pope on Chrysostom

Pope Benedict has moved on, in his Wednesday reflections, to St. John Chrysostom. All I can find so far is the official summary:

Our catechesis today focuses on a great orator of the early Church, Saint John Chrysostom: the “golden-mouthed”. After his schooling in Antioch, Saint John went into the desert to meditate on the “law of Christ”. Illness forced him to return to the city, where he heard the Lord calling him to full-time pastoral service. Years of prayer had prepared him to preach the Word of God with tremendous power and persuasion. Chrysostom constantly strove to connect Christian doctrine to daily living, emphasizing life-long human development in a person’s physical, intellectual and religious dimensions. Fundamental to this is the first phase when parents must firmly impress God’s law upon their children’s souls. Young people will thus be strengthened to confront the “storms” of adolescence when they must learn to temper concupiscence and eventually to assume the duties of marriage. Indeed, Saint John taught that the family is a “little Church” within the wider ecclesial community. Consequently, each of us has a responsibility for the salvation of those around us. Through the intercession of this saintly Bishop, may we generously embrace this and all our responsibilities in the Church and in society.

Posted on

Let’s Get Together

There’s just about a month remaining till the annual Letter & Spirit Conference, sponsored by the St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology (of which I am vice-president). The theme is “Jesus and the Mysteries.” Once again this year, we’re hosting some of the great names in patristic and biblical studies:

Dr. Scott Hahn, “What Do We Mean By Mysteries?”

Dr. R.R. Reno, “Sonship, Testing, and the Fear of the Lord”

Dr. Brant Pitre, “Jesus and the Mystery of the Temple”

Dr. Daniel Keating, “Baptism, Sonship and Salvation: Is Deification a Christian Doctrine?”

Father Robert Barron, “Banquet, Sacrifice, and Real Presence: A Biblical Perspective on the Eucharist”

Father Francis Martin, “Jesus and the Jewish Festivals” (the third annual Lawler Lecture)

In addition, there will be a panel discussion featuring all the speakers. Holy Mass will be celebrated by His Excellency, Bishop David Zubik. All events take place on the lovely grounds of St. Paul Seminary in Crafton, Pa. (just outside the city of Pittsburgh). Parking is free, and there’s plenty of it.

Admission is just $79. And if you’re a full-time student, it’s only $35. Meals are included, too. You won’t find a better bargain in the entire field of patristics!

Get your registration info online here. Don’t delay in making your reservation. This is our third conference, and the first two were filled to capacity. (Nevertheless, please help us spread the word!)

I’m looking forward to this chance to meet you.

Posted on

There Is Nothing Like a Game

Archaeology magazine has posted a fine introduction to “the games” — gladiatorial combat, public executions and such — the bloody public entertainment of ancient Rome. Christians were often placed in the center ring as victims in these violent spectacles. But, even in the years of relative peace, the Fathers condemned the blood sports of the arena.

Posted on

John, Golden Mouth

John Chrysostom (349-407) was a talented young man, the son of a government official who died when John was still a baby, leaving his wife a widow and single mother at age twenty. John’s mother made great sacrifices so that her son could study under the world’s most famous professor of rhetoric, the pagan Libanios of Antioch. John became his star pupil.

At eighteen, John discerned a call to dedicate himself entirely to the service of the Church. He placed himself under the tutelage of the renowned Scripture scholar, Diodore of Tarsus. Soon, once again, John was the most brilliant pupil of his master.

He decided, however, that he was interested in contemplation more than career, and so he stepped out of track for clerical orders and, in early adulthood, went off into a mountain cave, where he lived a hermit’s life for two years, till his health gave out.

When John returned to Antioch, his bishop ordained him first a deacon and then a priest. For twelve years, he was the main preacher in the city’s cathedral church. There, he preached the homilies that earned him his fame. He also served as vicar general for the metropolitan see.

It was his fame as a preacher, however, that brought him to the attention of the wider Church, and especially the imperial court. Thus, when the patriarch of Constantinople died, the emperor unexpectedly summoned John from Antioch to the most powerful bishop’s throne in the East. John declined the honor. But the emperor ordered that John be taken by force or subterfuge, if necessary, and so he was.

John’s habitual honesty and integrity did not serve him well, by capital standards. He was a reformer and an ascetic, demanding much of others, but even more of himself. The clergy of Constantinople were not, however, eager to be reformed or to imitate John’s spartan lifestyle. Nor was the imperial family — especially the empress — interested in John’s advice about their use of cosmetics, their lavish expenses, and their self-aggrandizing monuments. John found it outrageous that the rich could relieve themselves in golden toilet bowls while the poor went hungry. He reached the limits of his patience when the empress went beyond the law to seize valuable lands from a widow, after the widow had refused to sell the property. (John did not miss the opportunity to cite relevant Old Testament passages, like 1 Kings 21.)

Ordinary people found inspiration, solace, and — no doubt — entertainment in the great man’s preaching. But the powerful were not amused. They arranged a kangaroo court of bishops to depose John in 403. In fact, a military unit interrupted the liturgy on Easter Vigil, just as John was preparing to baptize a group of catechumens. Historians record that the baptismal waters ran red with blood.

John was sent away to the wild country on the eastern end of the Black Sea. His health was never good, and his guards took advantage of this. In moving him to a new location, they forced him to go on foot. They marched him to death in September 407.

Yet, immediately, he received popular veneration as a saint. Within a generation, a new emperor was welcoming the return of St. John Chrysostom’s relics to Constantinople.

Chrysostom is not a name John received from his parents. It was the name he earned from the congregations who loved him. Chrysostomos means “Golden Mouth” in Greek.

There’s an excellent online clearinghouse of works by an about St. John. I’ve posted some excerpts of his homilies here, here, and here. A good biography of St. John is J.N.D. Kelly’s Golden Mouth: The Story of John Chrysostom-Ascetic, Preacher, Bishop.

Jeff Ziegler gives us these links:
St. John Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople, doctor of the Church (traditionally reckoned among the four greatest Eastern Fathers), patron of preachers and Istanbul.
Selected writings.
Today’s readings at Mass: Col. 3:12-17; Ps. 150:1-6; Lk. 6:27-38.
— Where the memorial is kept with special devotion, Eph. 4:1-7 and Mk. 4:1-10, 13-20 or 4:1-9 may instead be read.
Hagia Sophia, Istanbul.

Posted on

The School of Nisibis

OK, so you know everything there is to know about Antioch and Alexandria. Now, go east, young nerd. Learn about the schools of the Syriac Fathers, starting with Nisibis and Edessa. I just learned of a book by Adam H. Becker, called Fear of God And the Beginning of Wisdom: The School of Nisibis And the Development of Scholastic Culture in Late Antique Mesopotamia … It’s reviewed here: “This rich and fine book (a revision of the author’s doctoral dissertation) provides an intellectual and institutional history of the scholastic culture of the Church of the East—above all of the School of Nisibis—in the late antique and early Islamic periods. The work sheds light on the development of Christian paideia in Late Antiquity and the rise of the Babylonian Jewish academies, and exposes the importance of the East-Syrian school movement as the background to the intellectual culture to come, a point that has not yet been fully appreciated.”

Posted on

Cappuccino in Cappadocia

Now you can make that apophatic getaway you’ve always dreamed of. According to the International Herald Tribune, the Turkish region of Cappadocia — once home to Basil and the Gregorys — “is now going upscale and drawing a younger more sophisticated crowd.” But it’s drawing them into the very cells of the Fathers, now equipped with glass-walled showers and wifi.

I’m not making this up.

In April the area welcomed its first true designer hotel, the Serinn House, which has been built around and carved into the area’s soft rock like the subterranean chapels created centuries earlier…

As early as the third century, those chimneys became a hiding place for early Christians who fled persecution from the Romans, and then later from raiding Muslims. They dug deep into the rock, carving out underground cities that went eight stories below ground, as well as thousands of cave chapels and monastery cells.

Read on.

Posted on

A Yellow Ribbon Round the Oak

This week we’ll mark the 1,600th anniversary of the death of St. John Chrysostom. Isn’t it time, then, for a historical reconsideration of one of his archnemeses?

Indeed it is! Bryn Mawr Classical Review sizes up Norman Russell’s new study of Theophilus of Alexandria in Routledge’s Early Church Fathers series. Theophilus was, by all accounts, the man who presided at the travesty of justice called the Synod of the Oak.

Theophilus of Alexandria by Norman Russell (hereafter R.) is a valuable addition to The Early Church Fathers series published by Routledge. Each volume in this series focuses on a specific church father, combining a biographical sketch with a sampling of representative texts in translation, and R.’s book offers a useful introduction to an important but neglected figure in patristic studies. Bishop Theophilus is perhaps best known for his association with the destruction of the Serapeum in Alexandria, his involvement in the Origenist Controversy of the late fourth century, and his role in the deposition of John Chrysostom at the Synod of the Oak in 403. In general, the primary sources have not been kind to him, and they have created a lasting impression, even to this day, of a manipulative, temperamental, and ruthless man. R. challenges this characterization, and from the onset he aspires ‘to be fairer to Theophilus’ (3). While overcoming centuries of negative press might ultimately prove impossible, R. does succeed at least in presenting the more revered side of Theophilus, particularly through his translations of letters and sermons (some of which were previously unavailable in English).

Following the general structure of the series, the book has two main parts. The first is a detailed reconstruction of Theophilus’ biography through a critical reassessment of the sources (pp. 3-41), and the second is a collection of translations divided into four sections, each preceded by a brief introduction (pp. 45-174). The book is by no means long, but it demonstrates excellent scholarship and style.

At the end of this month, I’ll be celebrating Theophilus’s success in speeding St. John on his way to heaven. My dear friends in the Society of St. John Chrysostom will mark the day with two speakers, Rev. Hiermonk Dr. Calinic (Berger) and Yours Truly. God willing, I’ll speak on St. John’s “Mystagogy of Marriage.” The celebration begins with Vespers on Saturday, September 29, 6 p.m. at Holy Trinity Romanian Orthodox Church, Wick Ave in Youngstown, Ohio. I’m told that advance tickets are required. Hope to see you there. (Last one there is a scheming Alexandrian.)

Posted on

Spinning Weber

Carson Weber, who used to work with us at the St. Paul Center, is now director of evangelization for the Diocese of Sacramento, California. Even more significantly, he has been podcasting a parish-based Bible study based on my friend Scott Hahn’s outstanding book Understanding The Scriptures: A Complete Course On Bible Study. It’s a lavishly illustrated textbook, often used for both college and high-school courses. The reading is easy, but it goes deep, very deep.

Posted on

Perfection in Patristics

Here’s the Zenit translation of Pope Benedict’s second round on Gregory of Nyssa.

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

I offer you some aspects of St. Gregory of Nyssa’s teaching, which we already talked about last Wednesday.

First of all, Gregory of Nyssa shows a highly elevated sense of man’s dignity. Man’s aim, says the bishop-saint, is to make himself like God, and he reaches this end above all through love, knowledge and the practice of the virtues, “luminous rays that come down from the divine nature” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44,1272C), in a perpetual and dynamic adherence to good, like a runner stretching forward.

Gregory uses, to this end, an effective image, already present in the Letter of Paul to the Philippians: “épekteinómenos” (3:13), which means “stretching oneself out” toward that which is greater, toward the truth and love.

This representative expression indicates a profound reality: The perfection we seek is not something that is conquered once and for all; perfection is a permanent journey, a constant commitment to progress, because complete likeness to God can never be achieved; we are always on the path (cf. “Homilia in Canticum” 12: PG 44,1025d).

The story of each soul is that of a love which is totally fulfilled, and at the same time open to new horizons, because God continually expands the possibilities of the soul, so as to make it capable of ever greater good. God himself, who placed the seeds of good within us, and from whom comes every initiative of holiness, “forms the block of clay … polishing and cleaning our spirit, forming Christ in us” (“In Psalmos” 2:11: PG 44,544B).

Gregory is careful to clarify: “It is not the result of our efforts, neither is it the result of human strength to become like the Deity, but rather it is the result of God’s generosity, who even from his origin offered to our nature the grace of likeness with him” (“De virginitate” 12:2: SC 119,408-410).

For the soul, therefore, “it is not a matter of knowing something about God, but in having God within us” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44, 1269c). As Gregory notes, “divinity is purity, it is freedom from the passions and removal from all evil: If all these things are in you, God is truly in you” (“De beatitudinibus” 6: PG 44,1272C).

When we have God within us, when man loves God, through that reciprocity that is part of the law of love, he wants what God himself wants (cf. “Homilia in Canticum” 9: PG 44,956ac), and therefore cooperates in forming the divine image within himself, so that “our spiritual birth is the result of a free choice, and we are parents of ourselves in some way, creating ourselves as we want to be, and forming ourselves through our will according to the model we choose” (“Vita Moysis” 2:3: SC 1bis,108).

To ascend to God, man must be purified: “The path, that leads human nature to heaven, is nothing more than separation from the evils of this world. … Becoming like God means becoming just, holy and good. … If therefore, according to Ecclesiastes (5:1), ‘God is in heaven’ and if, according to the prophet (Psalm 72:28) you ‘belong to God,’ it necessarily follows that you must be there where God is, from the moment that you are united to him. Because he has commanded that, when you pray, you call God Father, he tells you to become like your heavenly Father, with a life worthy of God, as the Lord commands us more explicitly in other passages, saying: ‘Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect!’ (Matthew 5:48)” (“De oratione dominica” 2: PG 44,1145ac).

In this journey of spiritual ascent, Christ is the model and the master, who shows us the beautiful image of God (cf. “De perfectione Christiana”: PG 46,272a). Looking at him, each one of us discovers ourselves to be “the painter of our own life,” in which our will undertakes the work and our virtues are the colors at our disposal (ibid.: PG 46,272b).

Therefore, if man is considered worthy of Christ’s name, how must he act?

Gregory responds in this way: “[He must] always examine his inner thoughts, his words and actions, to see if they are focused on Christ or if they are far from him” (ibid.: PG 46,284c).

Gregory, as we mentioned earlier, speaks of ascent: ascent to God in prayer through purity of heart; but ascent to God also through love of neighbor. Love is the ladder that leads us to God. Therefore, he heartily encourages each one his listeners: “Be generous with these brothers, victims of the plight. Give to the hungry that which you deny your own stomach” (ibid.: PG 46,457c).

With great clarity Gregory reminds us that we are all dependent on God, and therefore he exclaims: “Do not think that everything is yours! There must also be something for the poor, the friends of God. The truth, in fact, is that everything comes from God, the universal Father, and that we are brothers, and we belong to the same progeny” (ibid PG 46,465b).

And so the Christian must examine himself, Gregory insists: “What does it profit you to fast and abstain from meat, if with your wickedness you bite your brother? What do you gain from it, in God’s eyes, from not eating what is yours, if you unjustly strip from the hands of a poor man what is his?” (ibid.: PG 46,456a).

We conclude our catecheses on the three great Cappadocian Fathers by recalling the important aspect of the spiritual doctrine of Gregory of Nyssa, which is prayer.

To make progress on the journey toward perfection and to welcome God within ourselves, to carry within us the Spirit of God, the love of God, man must turn to him in prayer with faith: “Through prayer we are able to be with God. He who is with God is far from the enemy. Prayer is the support and defense of chastity, the restraint of anger, the quieting and control of pride. Prayer is the guardian of virginity, protection of fidelity in marriage, hope for those who keep vigil, abundance of fruit for farmers, security for the traveler” (“De oratione dominica” 1: PG 44,1124A-B).

The Christian prays, inspired by the Lord’s prayer: “If we want to pray for God’s Kingdom to descend upon us, we ask this with the power of the Word: That I be removed from corruption, freed from death, released from the chains of error; that death will never reign over me, that the tyranny of evil will never have power over us, that the enemy never rule over me or make me a prisoner through sin, but may your kingdom come, so that the passions that rule me may be removed from me or, better yet, be obliterated” (ibid., 3: PG 44,1156d-1157a).

At the end of his earthly life, the Christian can approach God in serenity. In speaking about this, St. Gregory refers to the death of his sister Macrina and writes that at the moment of her death she prayed: “You who have the power on earth to remit sins forgive me, so that I can have the Risen One” (Psalm 38:14), and that I can be found spotless in your eyes, in the moment in which I am stripped of my body (cf. Collosians 2:11), so that my spirit, holy and immaculate (cf. Ephesians 5:27) will be welcomed into your hands, “like incense before you” (Psalm 140:2)” (“Vita Macrinae” 24: SC 178,224).

This teaching of Gregory’s remains valid: not only speaking about God, but bringing God within us. We do this through prayer and by living in the spirit of love for all of our brothers.

And here’s the report from Vatican Information Service

And from Catholic World News