31 December 2008

We are come to the advent of a new year. While the Church has already inaugurated her new year, with the advent of a new liturgical cycle on the first of September in the Church's calendar, Christians in the modern world cannot help but find the 'civil new year' (January 1st on the civil calendar) a point of reflection. All around us, the world orders itself for newness: one year comes to its conclusion, it is summed up in memories and reflections, and preparations for the new are made. It is a time of optimism -- bound up in the hope that the painful, fraught experiences of the past months can become objects of learning, lessons, that enable a better season to come.

As Orthodox Christians, there is something in the general atmosphere of the new year's cycle that can never be far from our hearts. What is Christian life, if not a life of reflection on what is past, a recognition of what is truly present, and a struggle towards attainment in the future? Such a quest of self-reflection and renewed dedication is at the heart of the ascetical life. We are called at every day, at every hour, to examine our lives, and from the awareness that results, order our steps toward a renewed repentance and growth in the Christian life.

Yet we must not follow the worldly trends of glamorising the past, of seeing the future only as the inauguration of bliss, rather than the staging ground of authentic and real struggle. When we look at our past, we find remarkable sin. We find the misuse even of our goods, of our accomplishments, so that they become objects of pride, of objectification. We must not succumb to the tendency to make celebrities of our past actions, our past works. For what has been done well, we can and ought to say only 'thanks be to God', and move forward in our ascetical life. We must not make idols of our works, of our accomplishments.

Nor must we gloss over our vision of the future, seeing in 'tomorrow' the worldly conquest over sorrow and pain, strife and discord. This is the constant temptation of the modern world: to be optimistic and look forward in hope, but to do so in a manner divorced from God. Apart from a grounding in the Holy Trinity, the 'optimism' we may foster for the future is but a veiled form of self-grandeur and arrogance. We believe we can better our lot ourselves. Finally, the mistakes of the past will 'set in', we will at last learn from them, and we can act righteously, honestly, fairly, justly. We will forge a better, nobler tomorrow. I will set goals that I will attain, in my personal as well as social life. I will become a better person. I will live a better life.

This spiritual delusion proves itself a trap, a falsehood, time and time again. Every time we place a foot forward in the expectation of self-redemption, that 'forward' step brings us a thousand-fold further from our true goal.

Despite the general air of positive optimism that prevails at this season of the year, we Orthodox Christians must be ever more aware of the radical secularisation that infuses it in our modern world. This world has become one which constantly calls out to the individual: 'Better yourself!', that asks, at this turning point of the year, 'What will you do to ensure your happiness in the months ahead?' But for the Christian, such statements and questions, if divorced from the wholeness of Church life and the constant need to live our life in Christ's life, not for ourselves but for our Creator, are little more than damaging, divisive mantras of an overbearing secular worldview. If I am truly honest with myself in the open examination of my life, of my actions, I can be aware only that what I will do, to ensure my 'happiness' or anyone else's, will be disastrously spiritually damaging. Genuine honestly causes me to become aware only that any attempt to 'better myself' will fall at the altar of my own pride and become a tool of my destruction, rather than my improvement.

For the Christian, the renewal of hope that comes with the dawning of a new year is none other than the renewal of hope that comes with the dawning of every new day, and indeed every fleeting moment. It is the hope that comes from a true repentance, from a true cleaving to Christ, from a real ascesis. Our hope for the future is nothing at all, if it is not that the Holy Spirit will enable in us, with renewed vigour, a life of self-emptying sacrifice that draws us closer to the deifying grace of the Trinity.

Yes, we can and ought to set goals for our lives. But let these goals be those of the Church, not of the world. Let us set ourselves toward a new intensity of life in the Church which is our Mother: to enter more wholly into the mysteries of confession and Eucharist which bring us to a life not just of happiness, but of blessedness. Let us redouble our attentiveness to the Divine Services: to reading the canons before vigils, so that the living theology of the services can infuse and transform our hearts with the true flame of the love of God; to fostering a new attentiveness to the words of the Holy Gospel that are proclaimed in our midst in the temple -- words spoken to each of us, with the power to transform each of us. Let us aim towards a 'resolution' of cutting off our spiritual self-will and pride, of renewing a sacred and living obedience, which can bring us a new spiritual innocence before our Creator. Let us set as our aim, not a conformity to the pleasures and expectations of a world that, ever more pointedly, heaps ridicule on the Church, on Christ, on the whole Christian life; but instead a fuller conformity to the unchanging Truth whom the world has always mocked, will always mock in this life, but whose love for the world is its only sure redemption. Let us dedicate ourselves to a deeper attentiveness to those ways in which the world seeks to modify our words, our thoughts, our actions to better fit its own whims and desires, and let us find a new resolve and courage to stand up in and with the true teachings of the Church, whatever the cost.

The way of the fathers is clear: to love the world, we must reject the fallen world. Genuine love is a purifying love: a love which strips away what is foreign to it, which prevents it, and in that withdrawal finds a true and authentic embrace of God's creation. Let us foster such love. Let us take to the fathers with a renewed sincerity and simplicity, finding in them the voices of true life, which the modern world so desperately needs.

To all the readers, contributors, authors and visitors of Monachos.net, may I wish a joyous, blessed, and peaceful new year in the fullness of the life in Christ.

Deacon Matthew
Monachos.net

19th December 2008 / 1st January 2009