The Way of Shame and the Way of Thanksgiving

The language of “self-emptying” can have a sort of Buddhist ring. It sounds as we are referencing a move towards becoming a vessel without content – the non-self. Given our multicultural world, such a reference is understandable. It is, however, unfortunate and requires that we visit the true nature of Christian self-emptying. Our self-emptying is deeply tied to shame and the Crucified Christ. As a touchstone, I cite the primary passage (Philippians 2) that undergirds the notion of self-emptying:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled [emptied] himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.

The passage is not a random choice. It is, as St. Paul states, a description of the very nature of the mind that should be in us. It describes how we are to live and think. Considering Christ, we can see that He emptied Himself of Divine Prerogatives and humbly accepted death on the Cross. But what is the “mind” of this self-emptying? What is it that we are emptying when we empty the self? And how is it an “emptying?”

There is nothing precise that we can identify as the “self” in such a manner that we “empty it.” We could identify desires, thoughts, plans, wealth, energy, and the like as things that we might choose to deny or give up. And this has been a well-worn path in asceticism and monastic life through the centuries. But it still concentrates our efforts on an absence, leaving us with nothing within. Such an absence is ultimately a misunderstanding of self-emptying.

Like many things in the Christian life, “emptying” is a paradoxical phrase. We do not and cannot “empty” the self without reference to another. Christ’s own offering on the Cross was not an act of isolated renunciation. It was profoundly an act of love in which He emptied Himself but also filled Himself in union with our brokenness. A key to understanding Christ’s self-emptying is found in Hebrews. In many ways the passage is a parallel to the Philippians passage.

[Christ], for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb 12:2)

Our own self-emptying has the same characteristic. Christ, who is our joy, is found in the union of the Cross, as we ourselves “despise the shame,” and sit with Him in His throne at the right hand of God. This “despising the shame” is the equivalent of “bearing shame,” in which we acknowledge the brokenness of our own selves, without turning away, uniting ourselves with the Crucified Christ.

Shame is the “unbearable” emotion. It is the deep pain we feel in association with “who we are.” It is an extreme vulnerability and nakedness. Our deepest instinct in the face of shame is to hide. That is precisely what Adam and Eve do after their sin in the Garden:

So the man said, “I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; and I hid myself.” (Gen 3:10)

God Himself does not shame the man and woman. Indeed, in the conversation with Adam, God directs Adam’s attention to what he has done (guilt): “Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat?” Adam’s attention is on his shame (nakedness). And his shame is a distraction.

God’s direct attention is to the action and the need to understand and deal with its consequences. But even when Adam and Eve are expelled from the Garden, God covers their nakedness, providing them “tunics of skin.” God covers their shame.

This theme of “covering” continues throughout the stories of Scripture. Even our daily clothing is associated with shame. Shame is always about identity and character (“who I am”). We use clothing to hide vulnerable aspects of our lives, or to signal belonging, or competency, or beauty, all of the many things that hide who we are, the nakedness of our shame.

However, the Cross is a return to primordial nakedness. Christ is “naked and unashamed.” There is a shame associated with the Cross: the shame of humanity’s brokenness and sin. And it is this shame that Christ accepts in the self-empyting of the Cross, described by Hebrews as “despising the shame.” The word translated “despise” (καταφρονήσας) simply means to “have little consideration for.”

Stated positively, Christ “bears our shame.” Isaiah has this prophetic description:

I gave My back to those who struck Me, And My cheeks to those who plucked out the beard; I did not hide My face from shame and spitting. (Isa 50:6)

Our own self-emptying has a similar action. We “bear a little shame,” in the words of St. Sophrony. This is reflected in the language of beholding Christ “face to face.” For it is primarily in the face that we experience shame. When shamed, our instinctive reaction is to lower our eyes or hide our face. We can only see Christ face to face when we unite ourselves to him and “bear a little shame.”

In Revelation, the fear of shame is experienced as a judgment:

And the kings of the earth, the great men, the rich men, the commanders, the mighty men, every slave and every free man, hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains, and said to the mountains and rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! “For the great day of His wrath has come, and who is able to stand?” (Rev 6:15-17)

So this “bearing a little shame” is one form of our self-emptying. Another takes a very positive, though equally difficult path. It is the giving of thanks – always and for all things. Its similarity to bearing a little shame comes particularly in the “always and for all things.” Everyone can give thanks for the things they enjoy and that give them pleasure. Even unbelievers are thankful in such situations despite their inability to figure out whom they should thank. But it is the “always and for all things” that brings us face to face with Christ, particularly at those points where we would rather turn our faces away.

Although it is not readily apparent, we experience disappointments and hardships first as shame. It is only after the experience of shame that these experiences become occasions of anger and depression. We find the shame too hard to bear and so it is very quickly translated into anger or depression. We experience these things as shame because we feel in ourselves that disappointments and hardships declare our unworthiness, incompetence, inadequacy, etc. The same is true of the sins in our lives. It is not our guilt that is hard to bear – it is our shame – how our sins make us feel about ourselves.

St. Paul emphasizes that we are saved in our weakness rather than our strength. Our strength offers us no shame (quite the opposite), and, as such, offers us no solidarity with the self-emptying of Christ. We are not only saved from our sins, we are saved through our sins, as we thankfully behold Christ face to face.

The giving of thanks, always and for all things, brings us face to face with Christ. To give thanks in the middle of our shame, is a primary means of “bearing” our shame. It embraces the fullness of Christ’s offering on our behalf, and unites us with that same offering. It is in the giving of thanks always and for all things that we find self-emptying as fullness. It is there that the Cross of shame becomes the “joy set before us.”

It is essential that we understand that the bearing of shame must be voluntary and never coerced. Shame that is placed on us by others is generally toxic in nature. God never shames us. This is frequently misunderstood. Many experience Christianity as a deeply shaming way of life. This is a fundamental distortion and a spiritual poison.

A very good example can be found in the liturgical prayers offered in preparation for communion. This prayer of St. John Chrysostom is typical:

Lord and Master, I am not worthy or sufficiently pleasing for You enter under the roof of the house of my soul. Since You, the Lover of mankind, wish to dwell in me, I boldly approach. Command me, and I shall open the doors, which You yourself have made. In your constant love for mankind You may enter in and enlighten my darkened mind. I believe You will do this, for You did not send away the harlot who came to you in tears or the publican who repented. You did not refuse the thief who acknowledged Your kingdom, or the penitent persecutor, Paul, to continue in his ways. Rather, You numbered among Your friends all those who came to You in penitence, for You alone are blessed always, now and ever and to ages of ages. Amen.

Many (if not most) people misunderstand such prayers. What they hear is God saying, “You are not worthy or sufficiently pleasing for me to enter under the roof of your house…” But this is utterly false. His words are very much in opposition to this. The origin of this prayer is found in Christ’s encounter with a Centurion whose servant was sick. Christ made as to go to the Centurion’s home, but was told by the Centurion, “I am not worthy for you to enter under the roof of my house, but say the word only and my servant will be healed.” The Centurion bore a little shame. Christ recognizes in this the Centurion’s union with His own suffering and sees the Centurion as a friend. He announces, “I have not seen such faith in all of Israel!”

The language of prayer, often expressed in similar terms of self-emptying, is not the language of toxic shame. It is, or should be, the language of voluntary union with the shame-bearing self-emptying of Christ. It is, at its very heart, the balm that heals us from the wounds of our shame. We bear our nakedness – and Christ clothes us in His righteousness.

Archimandrite Zacharias of Essex makes this observation:

It was through the Cross of shame that He saved us; so, when we bear a little shame for His sake, in order to repent and come to confession, He considers it as a thanksgiving to Him, and in return He gives us the comfort of the “Comforter”. (The Enlargement of the Heart, Kindle 1712).

Like the Cross of Christ, this is a voluntary offering and cannot be otherwise.

Therefore My Father loves Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again. No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father. (Joh 10:17-18)

The whole of this action, our grateful thanksgiving, always and for all things, in which we bear a little shame, unites us with the self-emptying life of Christ and becomes the gate of paradise and salvation. This is the very heart of repentance, and the secret of its joy. Chrysostom’s prayer, quoted earlier, reminds us of this joy:

You numbered among Your friends all those who came to You in penitence.

Friends of God in transfiguring joy, unashamed and unafraid, we behold Him face to face.

 

 

 

About Fr. Stephen Freeman

Fr. Stephen is a retired Archpriest of the Orthodox Church in America. He is also author of Everywhere Present: Christianity in a One-Storey Universe, and Face to Face: Knowing God Beyond Our Shame, as well as the Glory to God podcast series on Ancient Faith Radio.


Comments

54 responses to “The Way of Shame and the Way of Thanksgiving”

  1. Pam craig Avatar
    Pam craig

    Your observation that shame precedes feelings of discouragement, anger, depression in response to hardship resonated with me – I have sometimes felt deeply flawed when I’ve been wronged or when facing loss.
    Thank you for this piece – very insightful.

  2. Dino Avatar
    Dino

    Father,
    I cannot quite remember which saint is was, I suspect it was the recently canonised Joseph the Hesychast (a rare soul which reached unimaginable spiritual heights), who said that, at the highest summit of Man’s personal encounter with God in indescribable, Uncreated Light, the heart, of its own accord, always seems to utter silently: “Thine own of thine own we offer unto thee, in behalf of all, and for all”. Which clearly sounds like the most natural response of a sentient being realising its nothingness, yet ignoring the shame of this realisation, since in the face of its all-loving Creator, can only be exclaiming its thankfulness for all.

  3. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Dino, I can only imagine what joy there must be in being able to so engage with Jesus.

  4. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Dino,
    That point in the Liturgy (“Thine own of thine own…”) always seems to me to gather everything and say everything. It would make a truly fitting epitaph (if they still did such things).

  5. mary benton Avatar
    mary benton

    Hi Fr. Stephen and friends,
    I’m not sure I understand all that you have written here. But what occurred to me as I read was that I cannot “self-empty”. I have no idea how. I could say all kinds of things about humility or asceticism but they would just be (at least when coming from me) disguises for pride and efforts at self-glorification.

    I believe that only God can empty me in the way that is necessary for me to know union with Him. He knows what needs to be done and chances are very good that it will not be to my liking. I do not get to choose my path.

    If I fast, give what I have to the poor, and spend my life in service to humanity, human judgment might be that I lived a virtuous life, perhaps even a holy life. But all of these things would be what I chose, i.e. my self clinging to its own way. Not that God does not ask these things of us; rather, He asks much more.

    Love is the only response that the Christian heart can make to God and it does so by saying “yes”, simply “yes”, not having any idea where that will lead or how much it may hurt. Whatever trust I might imagine I have in God, I cannot help but be afraid when contemplating this “yes”. I do not know how to live without a self. And yet, that is my deepest desire. Amen.

  6. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Mary Benton,
    You are correct, but for me the key to demonstrating that love lies in my willingness to repent as deeply as possible. The Jesus Prayer, done in conjunction with your priest, is extremely effective for plowing and weeding my heart.
    “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a (the) sinner”.

    Jesus has been merciful and that mercy is the foundation of all that the Church does and is: the Cross, the grave, the third day Resurrection.

    Do not forget His words from the Cross: “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do”.

  7. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Mary,
    Well said. To love God, saying “yes,” giving thanks for all things (as we can), is the giving of our “self” to Him. May He give us grace for this. Thank you.

  8. Jenn Avatar
    Jenn

    How is it that we give thanks “always and for all things”? I have heard this many times and I cannot wrap my brain around it. I can say the words but have a hard time meaning it. I can understand bearing a little shame when it involves something one has done. But how exactly to give thanks in the midst of illness or chronic pain. Am I giving thanks for the pain, because it unites me to Christ and the cross? Or am I giving thanks to God despite the pain? I appreciate any clarification you can offer, Father.

  9. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Jenn,
    We begin, I think, with small things – the things that are easiest to give thanks for. There is a “mystery” as we give thanks in the midst of difficult things, such as suffering. When I practice this, I do think about the suffering of Christ and understand (by faith), that He has taken my suffering into His. So, I give Him thanks for that union – and I give thanks for whatever “good” is being wrought in that mystical union.

    Start slow.

  10. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Jenn, in addition to what Father says, there is a deeper joy, I think, that sanctifies the pain in Christ. His Mercy endures forever and transforms each heart.

  11. Simon Avatar
    Simon

    I get the impression from the monastics that the sense in which ‘everything comes down from God’ is that nothing happens that God didn’t permit. If God would have said “No” it would not have happened–he could say “No”, but he didn’t. He chose not to. That seems to be a widely accepted view in the Orthodox world. If God permitted it, then it must be something for which we should, in our humility and Christ-like submission, give God glory and thanks. Otherwise, we find ourselves in a position of not accepting what God permitted. If God permitted it, who are we not to accept it? Furthermore, not only should we accept it, but we should give thanks for it.

    It is an awful burden to place on anyone.

  12. Jenn Avatar
    Jenn

    Thank you, Fr. Stephen and Michael. This helps. I do find myself groping in the dark when trying to give thanks in times of misery, I think this is explained by the mystery you speak of. There are moments of joy when I can feel grateful too but that usually is preceded by a deep acceptance that can be fleeting. I guess baby steps.

  13. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Jenn, St. John called it “the Ladder of Divine Ascent”
    for a reason. The important action is to keep stepping especially when you lack confidence. The Joy will grow more accessible even as it often seems as an oxymoron.

  14. Lewis Avatar
    Lewis

    Mary Benton,
    Thank you for your response. I believe your third paragraph has given me the key to understanding my prayer with a beloved friend shortly before he died. Knowing this would be our last conversation, I silently prayed what to pray and only one word was given to me: “Yes.” Now I had to search my mind for content fitting for the word “Yes”. I prayed with uncertainty but with hope one of the strangest prayers ever. Respectfully, I cannot say more. But I thank you and Fr. Stephen for helping me without knowing it. God works in mysterious ways indeed.

  15. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Simon,
    I think you’ve picked up a misperception (and it’s probably not your fault – some describe this practice of thanksgiving very badly). If we were speaking about everything being permitted because it’s good, or that because it’s permitted we should be grateful for it – then it would really be an awful burden – it would be soul-crushing, I think.

    There is within the practice of giving thanks for all things a profound paradox. In fact, if there were no paradox involved it would be a pretty useless exercise. I think of the paradox as being captured in Joseph of Egypt’s statement to his brothers, “You meant it to me for evil, but the Lord meant it to me for good.” (His brothers having sold him as a slave, etc.).

    This is not Joseph thanking his brothers for selling him as a slave. He could, however, in hindsight, give thanks to God for what happened to him in that, through it, he was able to save his whole extended family and the greater part of Egypt as well.

    To give thanks in the midst of terrible things is not about the terrible things themselves. It is the confession in the midst of terrible things that “God is good,” that He is greater than the terrible things and is even able to bring about good for us despite such things. It is the sound of an abiding communion with God regardless of the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

    It is also ok to complain – the Psalms are filled with complaints and there are lots of examples of saints complaining. I’m no saint, but I complain. It is the honest expression of my heart in the middle of certain things. But, I work at taking the complaint beyond the complaint itself. If possible, I lean into my relationship with God, into Christ on the Cross, and work at complaining from within His bosom. As often as not, I find some relief in that practice. “Thou hast turned my mourning into dancing for me…Thou hast put off my sackcloth.” (Ps. 30:11).

    But, I agree with you, Simon. If we saw the giving of thanks as an act of approving and agreeing with what is happening to us, then it’s like “blaming the victim” or some such thing. It would be oppressive. The giving of thanks is not a “moral” act – a thing we do because we’re supposed to do it. It is an act of loving abandon into the arms of a crucified God.

    BTW, sorry to be so slow in getting this posted and replied to. I was out of town this weekend and not able to use my computer for most of the time.

  16. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Father, by giving thanks to God and recognizing He is God in challenging situations, I have found the situation is transformed, my heart is healed and goodness shines.

    Is that not the same??

  17. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Michael,
    I suppose it would be. I do not find my experience to be predictable. Sometimes I give thanks and it’s simply part of my voice of pain. Indeed, sometimes I give thanks just because I know the devil cannot and will not. But I would not say, “If you do this…this will be your experience…”

  18. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Father, I do not grasp the giving of thanks “when the devil cannot and will not”. Can you explain a bit?

  19. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Michael,
    The devil will not give thanks nor can he (apparently). So, he really doesn’t like it when we do it and he’d love to do anything to keep us from it. So, sometimes, particularly in hard things, I give thanks at the very least because I know I’m driving him (the devil) away when I do…

  20. Laurie Marvin Avatar
    Laurie Marvin

    Simon that characterization seems to be a subtle distortion of providence. If God had willed all things as they are, then why would Jesus heal illnesses and raise the dead? Wouldn’t God be in a sense against himself? This would make providence a resignation and despair. But God comes to defeat evil and death. Christians are people who believe God will have the final word.

  21. mary benton Avatar
    mary benton

    Without Christ, human suffering has no value at all and is certainly not something for which we thank God. As related in the Book of Job, one of the most difficult questions people of faith have grappled with through the ages is why a loving God would permit suffering.

    I don’t claim to have the answer, but I know that the answer is in Christ. I believe I read it here a number of years ago that we are not saved by Christ’s suffering, but by His love.

    The depth of His love for us is known through His sacrifice, that voluntarily He gave Himself up to join in our suffering because He loves. Suddenly, suffering has a meaning it never had before. Hidden in its ugliness, it now has the power to redeem and transform.

    I am reminded of Maximillian Kolbe, a priest and saint in the Roman Church. While a prisoner in Auschwitz, he volunteered himself to take the place of a man who had randomly been singled out to be killed. This man had a family. Surprisingly, the Nazis accepted Kolbe’s offer and included him with nine others to be starved to death in an underground bunker. Kolbe led the others in prayer and, after two weeks without food or water, he was still alive and at peace. He was killed by lethal injection. Amid the incomprehensible horror of Auschwitz, something inexplicably holy and redemptive occurred. Because Kolbe was immersed in the life of Christ, his suffering became part of the salvific power of the sacrifice of Christ.

    I personally am nowhere near that level of union with Christ. When I suffer even a little, I complain and become self-absorbed. But thankfully, my own redemption and that of others does not rely on my holiness. Once I have said “yes”, God can make of me whatever is ultimately for the good, whether I understand it or not.

    As St. Porphyrios advises: “Look on all things as opportunities to be sanctified.” In Christ, anything, everything can bring about holiness and redemption.

    For this, I give thanks.

  22. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Mary Benton,
    Thanks. I will be going over what you say here and how you say it because I detect a certain type of Joy through it all.

  23. Liz Avatar
    Liz

    Thank you Fr. Stephen. We know God might allow events to happen even though he doesn’t necessarily cause those events to happen. God who is Love, He comes to heal, and as Laurie Marvin said in his reply to Simon, to “defeat evil and death”. Would it be correct to say that it is actually never God’s will that people should suffer and perish?

  24. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Liz,
    I think it is possible to say that God does not will that people should suffer and perish – but that has to be nuanced. It’s obvious that people do suffer – and, in some sense, we cannot say God is removed from that reality. It is quite difficult to speak of such things as the “fall” and the origins of evil in the universe – at least not in a strictly historical manner. We have the stories we have been given (Genesis, etc.) – but the theological tradition surrounding all of that is far more complex and rich than most people know.

    I do not start at the “beginning” and reason forward – mostly because I think it is the wrong place to begin. Instead, I start with Christ, particularly with His suffering and death and resurrection (His Pascha). I start there and work my way backwards and forwards. Christ is the Beginning and the End – and I think He is most perfectly made manifest to us in His Pascha.

  25. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Father, where does the Cross fit with your approach? As I age, I find myself looking at it more closely.

  26. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Father, given what you wrote, my question may seem redundant but when I walk into my parish sanctuary an am immediately surrounded by the Cross on all sides with all of them pointing toward Communion with Our Lord and Savior in some way, I feel the need to go more deeply so that the sanctuary is not the only place I am aware despite my sins.

  27. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Michael,
    I don’t think there’s anything I can say to such a personal experience. It is what it is.

  28. Liz Avatar
    Liz

    This is very helpful. Thank you for your reply Father.

  29. Simon Avatar
    Simon

    Everything that happens is something that happens with God’s knowledge. Is that much is correct?

  30. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Simon,
    Certainly. It is easy in that to feel frustrated that He allows it to be so, and to argue that, if He is good, He should not. For me personally, I find that to be a line of thought that becomes a dead end – and dark. It’s why I stand at the place of the Crucifixion when I attempt to think of these things. If the Cross is the definition of God’s goodness (rather than some other measure), then I find that I can make my way forward. The “weakness” of God, revealed in the Cross, is a contradiction for the kind of power that we speak of or imagine when we say that He “allows” (in that we think He could do otherwise). In lots of this, I ponder. I know you ponder, too. But I have never found anything other than Christ Crucified that seemed to unravel the knot.

    I notice, for what it’s worth, that when I stand before Christ Crucified, His mother is there beside me, pondering.

  31. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Am I crazy, Father? Because I perceive underneath the entire pain and darkness even The Cross, there is a beatific Joy of seemingly infinite proportions that my sin takes me from.

  32. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Michael,
    Of course you are crazy. None of us should have to ask the question. 🙂

  33. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Ah, but Father it took me over 70 years before I realized I was crazy and why I am crazy. I am just now, by Grace, how crazy I am and that there is more yet to find. I used to take my self and my passions so seriously. I don’t think I will ever be called a “Fool for Christ” but I can comprehend them a bit better.

    Dino, do recall any of our Fool’s for Christ?? I am drawing a blank

  34. Simon Avatar
    Simon

    I am not comfortable telling my child that it isn’t inconsistent with God’s character to permit evil. I think that is because I am not convinced that permission doesn’t imply complicity. If I permitted someone to hurt my children when I could have easily stopped them, I would certainly see myself as complicit in the evil committed against them. If God wants to endure evil, then he can–HE’S GOD. He inexhaustible strength to endure it. He can do whatever he wants and he doesn’t really have anything to lose.

  35. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    When you say, “He’s God,” that is something that I can only speak to Christ at the foot of His Cross. I’m loathe to have an idea and definition of God that stands somehow apart from that in any way. If there is a complicity in permitting the nothingness that is evil (the parasite), then I see it in the complicity of Christ in permitting His own crucifixion.

    I could (and have) gone round and round with this very conversation and don’t know what more I could say than what I’ve just said – though I don’t think I’ve exhausted it. I simply know where I stand – what I have told my own children – including as I’ve stood by my son as he held the dead body of his own three-day old child in his arms and grieved. He had “Glory to God for all things” inscribed on her grave stone. Whatever the weakness is that we experience in that – I believe Christ is in that weakness and knows it as well. Only love makes any sense of it to me – and it is love’s own sense – not my mind.

    I know it hurts. God give us grace where we stand – particularly as we stand by those whom He has given us.

  36. mary benton Avatar
    mary benton

    Michael B.
    I’m not Dino, but the first holy fool that comes to mind is St. Xenia of St. Petersburg.

  37. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Thank you, Mary. I was actually thinking the same thing.

  38. Simon Avatar
    Simon

    Fr. Stephen,

    There is a song from probably 20 years ago that says in the opening
    “Wish I was too dead to cry
    My self-affliction fades
    Stones to throw at my creator
    A masochist to which I cater
    You don’t need to bother
    I don’t need to be
    I’ll keep slipping farther
    But once I hold on
    I won’t let go ’til it bleeds

    I can’t make make my peace with it. You have, others have. I can respect that and even earnestly seek to understand it. I am not seeking to change anyone’s mind at all or have a debate. It seems we have to make our peace one way or the other. That was Ivan’s failure. He left himself in a state of conflict as if there was something noble in living with a soul torn by an internal war: “I don’t want harmony. From love for humanity, I don’t want it. I would rather be left with unavenged suffering…even if I were wrong.” There is nothing noble in it at all. In the end it drove him into madness. Christ says “A house divided cannot stand.”

    I have imagined myself as Aragorn when Lord Elrond says “Put aside the ranger and become who you were born to be.” It seems like I keep seeking meaning for something that seems so completely meaningless.

  39. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Simon,
    I do not hear this as an inherent problem with the question itself of God and evil – not that there are no problems that surround it (lots of ships run aground in these waters). But I hear that it’s a particular problem for you – and that it’s not for lack of trying or some sort of obstinance. It’s the sort of thing that, for me, calls for a certain kind of friendship moment. There are things in even our closest friends that trouble us (nobody’s perfect), and yet we stand by them. When I hit moments like this with God – I simply choose to stand by the Crucified Christ as my friend with whom I haven’t understood everything. It’s the sort of “Jesus, here I am and I’m not going anywhere, help me,” prayer. I do not think God calls us to be without problems or to have solved everything.

    Be patient with those of us who sometimes sound like we have.

  40. Katie Fischer Avatar
    Katie Fischer

    Simon,
    I have no theological answers, as an adult convert sometimes I know less than my children. But as a mother of many my heart goes out to you as you wrestle with these things especially since it sounds like you have a child asking deep questions.

    If I may, and please forgive me and set this aside if it doesn’t fit your child, in my experience children don’t seek deep theological answers to their questions, they want reassurance that God is with us and loves us and that it’s okay to have things we don’t understand.

    I will keep you and your family in my prayers.

  41. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Simon, God bless you brother. After 76 years and lots of struggles, I have come to the conclusion(which is embedding itself ever more deeply in my soul) that our Lord’s Mercy covers and defeats all darkness.

    It is a bit like an endless river that gradually and endlessly erodes my attachments to the darkness and the foundations of the walls I build to ‘protect’ my heart.

    He, His saints and angels are constant in their love for us in a way that is unimaginable to we fallen humans.

    The Cross leads us to be able to participate in Him. His Body and His Blood.

    The trouble is that it is a Divine mystery which means that we are incapable, except by faith and madness, to fully understand and rationally accept all that the Cross, the Grave and the third day Resurrection give us.

    My poor prayers and insufficient heart are with you as is His Divine and ever present Mercy. A gift that none of which none of us is worthy.

    Lord, Jesus Christ. Have Mercy on me, a sinner and upon all here especially our brother, Simon in his struggles.

  42. Liz Avatar
    Liz

    Father Stephen, Michael, yes, we can all relate to Simon in one way or another … I certainly can. Sharing some thoughts …
    I find it helpful to trust that Christ accepts us as we are in the moment, including our limitations and in the unspoken words of our hearts. So for me instead of focusing so much on God allowing or permitting … perhaps focusing more instead on God who knows the experience of human suffering. So He is not distant but present, with us, by our side in our suffering. His mercy endures and transforms us. He is the God of life, love and the resurrection.

  43. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Liz, thank you for the reminder but do not forget Joy. As odd as it sounds His Joy undergirds much even as we resist/persist in our sins.

    “This morning is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

  44. Laurie Marvin Avatar
    Laurie Marvin

    Hey Simon that’s a great song! Personally I’ve always found STAIND music to be deeply moving about the nature and experience of addiction.

    No answers to suffering, I don’t think. Only solidarity. In a book I have there is a story of a NAVY Seal come to rescue people, except they don’t trust him because they are traumatized by their war experiences. So the NAVY seal gets on the ground and lays with them until they trust him and are ready to go with him. That’s what I think about when I think about Jesus.

  45. Sophia Avatar
    Sophia

    I recently heard a story about +Fr. Roman Braga, the Romanian priest who was imprisoned and tortured by the Communists for many years. After he was freed from prison he got down on his knees and kissed the ground of the prison, saying “This is where I learned to love Christ.”

  46. Fr. Stephen Avatar

    Sophia,
    Fr. Roman, and those who suffered with him, were truly saints. I particularly love this talk he gave in Franklin, TN, back in the 90’s. Worth listening to: https://youtu.be/4D0k8scqQF4?si=RkUkDnhfcY1T1J_g

  47. juliania Avatar
    juliania

    I apologize for being late to this important post (my first communion was on St. Thomas Sunday) but I do thank you, Father Stephen, for its enlightening clarity. At first I was set back by the term ‘despised’ and I had to look it up in my Greek New Testament. It is certainly there, though the underlying English translation gives ‘…having despised…’ The greek language is so accurate that for me this was very helpful also . If that translation is accurate, it points out that there are two actions being described, the act of endurance and the action of having despised, the latter being the path towards the former.

    I must confess I haven’t explored your many messages about shame, not seeing an understanding of it as an entry but rather as a barrier, as for Saint Mary of Egypt, (and indeed it is that also,) but your post here clears the way forward for me. Thank you very much.

  48. Michael Bauman Avatar
    Michael Bauman

    Juliana, your “late” comment brought me back here for which I am deeply grateful.

    My response this time is on of deep Joy as well as laughter as I contemplate what lies beyond shame for us.

    Then the Lenten Prayer of St. Ephram came to mind which seems to place the conquering of shame in facing our own sins and not judging our brother.

    The Joy that comes through His Mercy if we even sincerely attempt that seems to be amazing.

    Forgive me, a sinner.

  49. Bruce Avatar
    Bruce

    Father bless!!!

    And thank you all for your helpful comments and dialogue.

    Let me see if this poem can below can offer us perhaps something meaningful. I attended the funeral of a friend who lived a life filled with giving unconditionally to those in need, often in desperate situations. His family found many copies of this poem in his home. I had never heard it before and found its message piercing, moving, powerful. It offers a perspective on the value of life’s sufferings that I’m not sure I’ve heard more elegantly described. I suspect he loved this poem because it helped him understand what he was to do with the ‘as is’ that life presented to him. Maybe it will speak to you as well:

    You Too Must Weep
    By Helen Steiner Rice

    Let me not live a life that’s free
    From the things that draw me close to Thee—
    For how can I ever hope to heal
    The wounds of others I do not feel—
    If my eyes are dry and I never weep,
    How do I know when the hurt is deep—
    If my heart is cold and it never bleeds,
    How can I tell what my brother needs—
    For when ears are deaf to the beggar’s plea
    And we close our eyes and refuse to see,
    And we steel our hearts and harden our mind,
    And we count it a weakness whenever we’re kind,
    We are no longer following The Father’s Way
    Or seeking His guidance from day to day…
    For, without “crosses to carry” and “burdens to bear,”
    We dance through a life that is frothy and fair,
    And “chasing the rainbow” we have no desire
    For “roads that are rough” and “realms that are higher”—
    So spare me no heartache or sorrow, dear Lord,
    For the heart that is hurt reaps the richest reward,
    And God enters the heart that is broken with sorrow
    As he opens the door to a Brighter Tomorrow,
    For only through tears can we recognize
    The suffering that lies in another’s eyes.

  50. Bruce Avatar
    Bruce

    Father Dimitru Staniloae published a small booklet entitled ‘The Victory Of The Cross’. Below are few paragraphs from this short booklet that I find quite supportive of the poem I shared in the prior post. I think it also expresses beautifully an Orthodox perspective on the cross and suffering that I find quite helpful.

    “The world is a gift of God, but the destiny of this gift is to unite us with God, who has given it. The intention of the gift is that in itself it should be continually transcended. When we receive a gift from somebody we should look primarily towards the person who has given it and not keep our eyes fixed on the gift. But often those who receive a gift become so attached to the gift that they forget who has given it to them. But God demands an unconditional love from us, for God is infinitely greater than any gifts given to us; just as at the human level the person who gives us something is incomparably more important than what is given, and should be loved for himself or herself, not only on account of the gift. In this way every gift requires a certain cross, and this cross is meant to show us that they are not the last and final reality. This cross consists in an alteration in the gift, and sometimes even in its entire loss.

    … For everyone knows that those we love will die, and this certainty introduces a sorrow into the joy of our communion with them. Everyone knows that the material goods which one accumulates are transitory, and this knowledge casts a shadow on the pleasure one has in them. In this sense, the world and our own existence in it are a cross which we shall carry until the end of our earthly life. Never can man rejoice wholly in the gifts, the good things, and in the persons of this world. We feel the transitory nature of this world as a continual cross. But Christians can live this cross with the hope of the resurrection, and thus with joy, while those who have no faith must live this experience with increasing sadness, with the feeling that existence is without meaning, and with a certain despair which they cannot altogether alleviate.

    … We cannot purify or develop our own spiritual life nor that of others, nor that of the world in general, by seeking to avoid the cross. Consequently, we do not discover either the depth or the greatness of the potential forces and powers of this world as a gift of God if we try to live without the cross. The way of the cross is the only way which leads us upwards, the only way which carries creation towards the true heights for which it was made. This is the signification which we understand of the cross of Christ.”

  51. Janine Avatar
    Janine

    Bruce, wow. Thanks for all that! I am going to search for that book by Staniloe if I can find it! These words are stunning

  52. Bruce Avatar
    Bruce

    Janine … it’s a short 24 page booklet entitled ‘Victory Of The Cross’. Here is the introduction to this booklet that explains how it came about:

    “During his visit to England in the summer of 1970, the late Father Dumitru Stăniloae was able to spend some days in Oxford, staying at the Convent of the Incarnation, Fairacres. On the last morning of his stay he spoke to the whole Community on the meaning of the cross. The following article has been made from the recording of what he said then, supplemented by further explanations provided by Father Stăniloae. The subject had arisen out of a discussion on the meaning of suffering, and in particular of undeserved suffering. Here as always the teaching of this theologian arises out of experience and illuminates experience. Romania was one of the countries which in the course of 1970 suffered a catastrophic natural disaster in the form of devastating floods. But the experience which lies behind the following pages is not, of course, only the experience of a single moment or event. What is written here comes from a lifetime lived in solidarity with the sufferings of mankind, in a century when the peoples of Europe have suffered two world wars and all that has followed from them. It comes from the centuries-old experience of the Church as it has learned to live in the dying and rising of the Lord. There is here a combination of great simplicity and directness with profound perception and understanding. Learning and life have come together into one.”

    And the link to it on Amazon

    https://www.amazon.com/Victory-Cross-Fairacres-Publication/dp/0728300494

  53. Janine Avatar
    Janine

    Thank you Bruce!

  54. Dee of St Herman Avatar
    Dee of St Herman

    Bruce,
    Thanks so much for your comments, and in them the poem and extract from Father Father Dumitru Stăniloa’s book!

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