Elder or Offeror of Sacrifice

The English language is unusually rich—in the sense of having two or more diverse ways to speak of almost anything.
This is due primarily to its drawing from two major sources: the influence of the Latin of its Roman conquerors (and, later, of its Norman French ones) and the Germanic languages of the Anglo-Saxons—plus the lingering influence of Celtic dialects and old Scandinavian languages as well.
But, when it comes to “priest” it’s just the opposite situation. The English language uses one word to express two or more very different meanings.
The English word “priest” has tangled roots: Old English, preost—related to Dutch, priester—from Late Latin, presbyter, from the Greek presbyteros (older), meaning an old man, a senior, an elder.
But, its roots notwithstanding, usually, in English, the word “priest” means not an elder but a person whose function is to offer sacrifices, serving as an intermediary between a god or God and worshipers.
Latin has a word for such a person, not presbyter but sacerdos (one who does sacred [things]). Oddly, English doesn’t. The English language has an adjective, “sacerdotal”, but not an noun—although most Latin-rooted languages do.
Scriptural scholarship has called attention to the fact that the early leaders of the local Christian communities, after the time of the apostles, were called elders (presbyters).
As ranking of service and authority gradually developed, the elder (presbyter) was accountable to an overseer (episcopus), a kind of head elder, and assisted by helpers or ministers (the diaconus).
Once Christianity became institutionalized in the Roman Empire as the imperial state religion, it was natural enough to begin to think of its leaders as priests (in the sense of sacerdos) since pagan Rome always had a caste of official priests with such a role.

Besides, the Bible itself lent support to this understanding of local Church leaders as priests (in the sense of sacerdos). Judaism had a religious organization somewhat similar to pagan Rome with the ministerial tribe of Levi and its official Aaronic priests serving under the overall supervision of a high priest.
Other gradual changes were taking place regarding the status and authority of priests.
In pagan Rome and biblical Judaism, the priest always had a certain social status and religious authority. With the decline of the western Roman Empire and the increasing assumption of civil authority in the West by the bishop of Rome, the importance of the ecclesiastical leaders increased.
This was further augmented by the decline of overall education in the West. The majority of literate and somewhat educated people were the ecclesiastics, the clergy. Feudal Western society became stratified into nobility, clergy, and common people.
The development of sacramental theology added another dimension to the perception of the priest. He was not only a spiritual and social leader, a man of learning and superior status; but also by his ordination he was changed entirely—he had become a sacred and holy person, an alter Christus.
As language, theology, and the world around us change and evolve, what do we now mean by priest: presbyter or sacerdos? clergyman or lay? servant or superior? What shapes our understanding: what the word meant to us in childhood? after higher education? in adult life? in old age?
If it’s tricky business being clear what “priest” means nowadays, imagine how much more complicated it is to be one!


21 April 2019

Discerning Callings

Here’s how the dictionary defines it:

Calling:  1. the action of one that calls. 2. one’s occupation, profession, or trade.  3. an inner urging toward some profession or activity; vocation.

If that’s what it can mean, then in one sense or another everybody has a calling. But, when we use its Latin-rooted synonym “vocation” it sounds more specialized, limited, and God-related as in vocation to the priesthood or the religious life.
In the Bible, there are stories of people experiencing divine intervention and being explicitly called and invited to a life work—think of Abraham, Moses, the boy Samuel, and the apostles.
More often, though, the direct action of God in our lives is experienced in the form of an inner urging and/or particular life events and circumstances.
The process of discernment—figuring out how to interpret these growing inner urgings and events of our lives—can be very challenging. Is what we experience a direct action of God? If the calling is from God, is it to a general style of life or a particular occupation or profession?
When eventually we chose a particular occupation or profession, is it mostly because it’s attractive to us, because we feel that God is calling us to it, attractive or not, or because of both?
After making a decision and commitment, what is an appropriate response if the very nature, responsibilities, public regard, and our satisfaction with the chosen occupation or profession changes?
And, to add a more contemporary challenge to the mix, what if our continual process of discernment leads to the conviction that God is calling us to leave a particular occupation or profession and embrace another?

One of the characteristics of modern society is an increasing movement away from permanency, whether it refers to where we live, the job we have, the social class we belong to, the nationality we possess, the values we adhere to, the spouse we chose, even the gender we identify with.
Change of itself is not necessarily good or bad, but it can be challenging, sometimes painful, and often difficult. Growth and maturation involve change, development and evolution involve change, divine intervention involves change—and so do revolutions, wars, disasters, tragedies, and betrayals.
So, whether we choose the changes of our lives or endure them, we have to learn to let go of one thing so we can accept another—and usually more often then we expect. To live means to change; when we are totally fixed and changeless, we’re dead.
For the one who feels that God is calling and is disposed to listen attentively, beware. St. Paul, referencing the words of the prophet Isaiah, voiced the challenge of understanding some the actions of God for they include “What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart…” (1 Co 2:9)
Everyone has a calling, a calling from God. Most people experience this call as an inner urging towards a certain style of life or activity; some, even towards a particular occupation or profession. The continuing challenge is discerning whether what we think is of God really is.
Wrestling with “To be or not to be” is a continuing aspect of everyone’s life. For Hamlet it was about life or death. For all of us it’s about really living or gradually dying.


14 April 2019

Disoriented

Where I live, “uptown” means northward and “downtown” means southward. Maybe it’s because of the nearby river that flows from north to south — or maybe it has to do with looking at a map, where north is at the top and south at the bottom.
In Egypt, “up” definitely relates to a river. Since the Nile flows south to north, upper Egypt is south and lower Egypt, north.
In many ancient maps, east was at the top and west was at the bottom. To get one’s bearings was described as getting oriented — i.e., figuring which way was east.
Whichever way maps are “oriented” they tend to deceive. They always distort reality one way or another. Generally, maps are two-dimensional — but the world isn’t.
Remember the traditional Mercator projection used in mapmaking? The further north or south, the larger everything became; Greenland always seemed enormous.
And, if you saw a polar-type projection, what a surprise! Northern Norway is a lot closer to northern Alaska than you might have thought.
Airplane travelers are used to watching flight maps, where long routes always seem curved. That’s because the world is spherical and the shortest distance on the surface of a sphere can’t be a straight line. The moment you look at a world globe, it’s perfectly clear and obvious.
We take all this for granted, but, it seems this was pretty innovative stuff at the time of Columbus — although the ancient Greeks knew it well.
The moral of the story is you’re not in touch with reality if you’re thinking in terms of only two dimensions — the world is three-dimensional.
But, is it? Ever since Einstein challenged scholarship and science with his theories of relativity, we speak about the space-time continuum. You need a fourth-dimension, time, to be truly in touch with reality.

Can you really understand a person if you have only a momentary glimpse of his or her life? Does a moment frozen in a snapshot give a true picture of someone else?
Video recordings seem more lifelike because they show movement, change and progression. A true picture of another person is impossible without the dimension of time — the pattern of growth and development through infancy, childhood, adolescence and adulthood.
Just as individuals grow, change and evolve, so do peoples and nations, institutions and political systems, religions and churches. None of them can be adequately understood without factoring in the dimension of time.
Knowledge of history, unfortunately, is often sadly lacking. Mass media give us a daily slice of life, a snapshot, whatever the topic, but no comprehensive perspective.
How well can you understand the tensions within Iraq without knowing about the centuries-long hostility between Sunnis and Shiites, or about the sense of superiority of Iranians, heirs of an ancient empire, to Arabs?
Don’t the roots of a divided Palestine go back to Britain’s century-old divided Middle East policy: support for a Jewish homeland along with support for an Arab nation-state?
Ecumenical apprehensions are less baffling if you know that Latin crusaders invaded Constantinople and displaced the Orthodox patriarch and that Catholic Teutonic Knights fought to conquer Orthodox Russia.
In our rootless, snapshot modern societies, it’s easy to lose one’s bearings — to become “disoriented” — about life and history.
Hopefully we’ll face where the light rises and know the difference between going up and going down.




(Published in
one, 36:2, March 2010

Conversion or Growth?

Conversion [from the Latin conversio, from the verb convertere, from com – thoroughly + vertere to turn] 1. The act of converting, or being converted in substance, condition, form, function, etc. 2. A change in which one comes to adopt and uphold new opinions and beliefs; especially in matters of religion, a spiritual turning to righteousness and faith.

Let me come right out and say it, I don’t like using this word for religious matters at all. I don’t like talking about “converts” and “converting” and “conversion.”
Somehow it suggests a kind of betrayal — turning away from what one held before, turning one’s back on all that was past as though it had no value at all.
In the human quest for meaning, for the transcendental, for God, as a general rule I don’t think we’re meant to switch sides like a voter who changes party affiliation or a football fan who decides to root for a new team.
I do think we’re meant to build on the foundations of our lives — to grow from where we were first planted — to mature and develop, integrating new insights — to make occasional corrections to ensure we are on course to our final destination.
Now, this doesn’t mean someone should never make a radical, complete change. It may be that the course and direction of one’s life is profoundly flawed or that a person is hungry for a new identity and community. But, it shouldn’t always need to come to this.
On the other hand, the way the world is, we need to put people in one category or another. For example, as a Christian, could I try to integrate all I may find insightful, spiritually enriching, or meaningful in Islam into my life, remaining a disciple of Jesus?

Privately, it may be possible. But, publicly what would it mean? Would fellow Christians accept my following some Muslim practices? Would Muslims allow me to share any of their tradition without renouncing much of my Christian heritage? Is there any room for a Christian Muslim or Muslim Christian?
Suppose I’m a Jew looking at the teaching of Jesus and attracted to it. Is there any way for me to integrate it into my life, remaining a Jew by identity and a member of a Jewish community? Privately, it may be possible. But, publicly it would be a kind of consorting with a historical enemy.
Some try it, for example, Jews for Jesus. But, how do you embrace Jesus without replacing all the customs and practices of Judaism with the foreign customs and practices of one of the Christian churches?
Am I out to “convert” anybody? A long time ago, unhesitatingly, I would have said yes. Now, I realize it’s more complicated
Am I out to share whatever good that has been given to me or that I have found, by the grace of God? Of course. Am I eager to grow in holy wisdom and help anyone and everyone else to do the same? Of course. Do I want others to switch sides, adopt a new culture, cheer a new leader, leave behind their past, forget their roots and be seen as a traitor to those left behind? No, I don’t want that.
What is the answer? I don’t know.
O God, if there is to be any “conversion” in my interacting with your other children, please make it my turning away from all that pulls me away from you and correcting the course of my life so that it brings me to you.


(Published as “Conversion” in
one, 32:1, January 2006)

Yester-me, Yester-you

It rained yesterday. Even though the sun is shining today, I know it is going to rain. Why am I so sure? — because, since it rained yesterday, today must turn out the same.
What an illogical statement! Of course yesterday’s weather is no sure guide to today’s. The weather changes all the time. Yet, when it comes to people, this is the kind of illogic we frequently use.
If Saint Peter were campaigning for the position of prince of the Apostles today, I can just imagine the propaganda of his opposition:
Don’t vote for Simon. How can you trust him? When the going gets tough, he gets going. Remember Golgotha? Where was he when the Lord was being crucified? John was at the foot of the cross — where was Simon hiding? Do you want to be led by a coward?
Simon is an out-and-out liar. He publicly swore before witnesses that he wasn’t from Galilee, wasn’t a disciple, and didn’t know Jesus. Can you imagine a man like that with leadership responsibility in the Church?
Simon doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The Lord spent weeks trying to get the disciples to understand he was to suffer as Messiah — all Simon could do was to voice feeble assurances that everything was fine, that there was no need for worry. Remember, Jesus himself had to put him in his place.
Simon failed as a fisherman; he often caught nothing. He abandoned a responsible fishing business without a thought for the future. He ran all over the countryside instead of caring for his wife and home. How can you count on him?

Even so, Jesus picked this very fearful, blundering, blustering, impulsive follower to strengthen his fellows and shepherd the Church.
The frightened fisherman who fled from Calvary became the fearless father of the flock. The denier of the suffering Messiah in Jerusalem bravely faced a death similar to his in Rome.
The Simon Peter of yesterday is not the Simon Peter of today or tomorrow.
People repent and change. Daily, new experiences prompt us to new understandings and decisions. We grow day by day, discovering new strength and wisdom. The grace of God is powerfully operative in each of our lives.
How can we be so illogical regarding other persons? Or, perhaps, the question is: How can we be so merciless and unforgiving regarding other persons? How can I be so sure that today’s you is exactly the same as yesterday’s you?
Naturally, we use this peculiar illogic only with others. When it comes to ourselves, we know full well that we change and grow. Oh, the so many deeds of the past that we repent of and wish undone. But, with the help of God, we do not necessarily repeat yesterday’s mistakes and failures today and tomorrow.
Lord, help me to use the right logic with every other person — for it is the logic of compassion and love that you use with me.


(Published in
one, 30:6, November 2004)