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In His Hands…

Khristos Anesti!

Alithos Anesti!

Another Passion Week and Easter have came upon us and passed in peace.

What a beautiful week it was this year! I felt so blessed to be part of the spirit of love and faith that diffused through our Church. It was so uplifting to hear all those angelic voices lifted together in a harmony of unity in praise and worship of our awesome Lord. Good on you ladies! The antiphonal* singing of “Thok te tigom” and “Epouro ente tihirini“, with the gents on one side and the ladies on the other was so inspiring.

Ten years ago when we first started having English Passion Week services, we could hardly get a peep out of the youth. How wonderful it was this year to hear a whole Church lifting the roof and opening a window to heaven as they sang in voice “Ke iperto” with its moving long tune!

The rites and hymns of our Church are incredibly and deeply filled with meaning. Every year I learn new things about them, see new connections, gain new insights into the passion of our Lord, and indeed, into the very purpose and significance of His mission on the earth.

Passion Week is so special that one often does not want it to end. And it doesn’t have to, in a way. We should take with us the gems we find in Passion Week and keep them close throughout the rest of the year, that we might continually find comfort and inspiration every time we gaze upon them again. I know it’s now the 50 days of joy, but allow me to share with you one little Passion Week reflection:

Think of His hands.

Imagine yourself standing near as Jesus reaches out those gentle hands to lay them upon the forehead of a sick man. Seconds later, the man rises, completely healed of his illness.

Follow those hands as they punctuate and illustrate His words as he speaks to the multitudes on the mount.

Observe as those hands reach out to ruffle the leaves of the fig tree that bore no fruit, and are pulled back again, empty.

Look closely as those hands hold the bread, and break it into as He says “This is My body which is broken for you and for many” – yes, with His own hands, by His own will, He calmly and quietly surrenders His body to agony and death.

See those hands being roughly tied together with coarse ropes, by men who are not worthy of kissing His feet. Covered in dirt and blood and wounds, His hands are ound hidden behind His back while Pilate washes his own hands in a silver laver.

Cringe at those hands contorting in reaction to the furious unbearable pain of the whips being slashed across His back.

Feel the splinters and the weight of the cross upon those hands as they struggle to grip its shaft and keep it from falling off His shoulder … step after excruciating step along the dirt road … to death.

Shudder at every hammer blow that drives the thick iron nails through skin and bone and sinew … such violence … such gentle, healing hands.

Weep, letting your tears drop onto those still, pale hands, lifeless now as you anoint them with perfumes and carefully arrange them over His chest. Such senseless waste … such cruel injustice … such inconsolable sorrow …

And rejoice and exult now, to see those hands glowing with renewed life! The wounds remain as an eternal witness of His limitless love, but there is no pain in them now, no suffering, no corruption, no weakness, no defeat; for defeat has turned into victory, and sorrow has been drowned out forever by joy!

Hold those hands in your own. Touch them … feel them … kiss them … for these are the hands that of our Saviour, our Champion, our Redeemer.

Take your life and place it firmly in these hands. Fold His fingers over your life, enclose it in a cage of flesh and blood … and divinity.

“Lift up your hearts”“We have them with the Lord”

 

Fr Ant

* antiphon – a hymn where two groups take it in turns to sing alternate verses, responding to each other.

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Listen, Will You?

How hard can it be to listen?

As a parish priest, I eventually learned that not everyone who comes to see me wants to hear what I have to say to them. At first I thought people were coming to gain the benefit of my experience (back when I actually had none!). But it soon dawned on me that many people who see a priest aren’t actually looking for solutions; they’re just looking for someone who will listen to them. And so I have learned to simply sit quietly and let the person pour out whatever is troubling them. It can be a remarkably effective method of counselling!

But on reflection there is something more than a little sad about this. I often get the feeling that people who come to be listened to by Abouna have no one else in their lives who will listen to them. Are we really that isolated from each other these days?

At this point I should point out that there is a difference between hearing and listening (yes, I stole that from ‘Sounds of Silence’). Most people have no problem hearing someone else speak. But they will often want to jump in and make their own comment; suggest a simple solution that the speaker was clearly too stupid to think of for themselves, or worse still, start talking about their own problems. Ask the listener what the speaker said, and all you will get is a blank stare, or one or two unimportant details. This kind of ‘hearing’ isn’t very helpful.

Listening, on the other hand, means to actually pay attention, to be genuinely interested, to forget your own world for a little while and really enter into the mind and world of the speaker. This kind of listening is surprisingly rare in our society today. And more’s the pity.

We have little trouble losing ourselves in a good novel or an exciting movie, but when it comes to a real live flesh-and-blood person sitting in front of us – well, how can they compete? Especially if that real person happens to be someone close to you, like a member of your family. How could a family member possibly be interesting? Why should I waste my time listening to his/her drivel about some boring incident that happened at the supermarket?

Love.

That’s why.

Love means to go out of yourself, to escape the dingy little prison of the ego. I am an incredibly limited being, yet my sense of my own importance in the world is always greatly exaggerated. But love tells me that other people are important too. And interesting. How can anyone not be interested in other human beings? They are such amazing creatures! Even the dullest among them has some emotion, some paradox, some wisdom, some experience, some thought, some foible that can set off a whole line of contemplation and curiosity. Sometimes you agree with others, and other times you don’t, but both situations are really quite interesting. Why did I agree or disagree? Where does the right and wrong of the matter really lie?

But there is more to be gained from taking a genuine interest in others than just curiosity. There is connection. So many people today feel so isolated and alone, even though they live in the middle of a metropolis of millions. They meet thousands of people every day, on the roads, the footpaths, the shops, at work or school – and yet, they never really connect with any of them. Their dealings are superficial and efficient, but there is little warmth, little genuine interest in each other. And then, at the end of the day, they feel so lonely. It doesn’t have to be that way.

Take the time to stop and have a chat with someone today. Better still, get them talking, and then just sit there and really listen…

Fr Ant

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Unbearable Injustice

Wishing you all a Happy Feast of the Cross!

What is the Cross?

Geometrically speaking, the Cross is a symbol that is about as simple as you can get. Two perpendicular straight lines. And yet, within that simplicity lie profound layers of meaning, meaning that became attached to it ever since that fateful day on the Golgotha nearly 2,000 years ago. Those two simple lines contrast the attitude that looks upwards, seeking more to life (vertical), to that which is content with the one-dimensional life of the material here on earth (horizontal). They cross at 90 degrees; the maximum possible separation between two lines, implying that the two attitudes towards life couldn’t be further apart. And yet, they avoid the excesses of fanaticism, for if they increased the angle on one side, the angle on the opposite side would necessarily decrease. So also those who go to fanatical extremes of religiousity on the one hand often find themselves inevitably falling into worldly sins of pride and lust for power on the other.

The Cross represents an event, a real, historical, well-documented real-life event. And that event too is laden with meaning.

The Cross represents that totally unfair burden laid upon One who had already suffered enough. By the time the Cross had been laid upon the shoulder of Christ, He had already been subjected to humiliation and taunts, beatings and a barbaric whipping, blood loss, sleep deprivation and dehydration. The added pain and humiliation of carrying a heavy wooden cross through the streets of Jerusalem was a totally unnecessary and inhuman punishment for One who was about to die anyway. And yet, He bore it with grace and patience, and without a word of complaint. He bore it as far as was humanly possible, and after that, one was provided to bear it for Him, that He might complete His journey.

And we too are charged to take up our cross if we wish to be His disciples (students). Do not be surprised, then, if your cross turns out to be heavy or if it seems unnecessary or unfair. To follow Christ means to share with Him the total humiliation of injustice, and to bear it with grace and patience. Do not expect your cross to be fur lined for your added comfort, or electronically balanced for smooth driving. It will be, by its very nature and purpose, burdensome, unwieldy, ugly and agonising. When we have already suffered ‘enough’ – that is the point at which we are called to take up our cross … if we truly wish to follow Him.

It is at this point that faith becomes real. If faith is to mean anything, it must be trusting when all the evidence points to the contrary. “My God, My God; why have You forsaken Me?” He cried from the agony of the Cross. And yet, He did not bring Himself down. He did not say, “If My Father has forsaken Me, then I too shall forsake Him.” The Cross is faith that crosses the boundary of simple reason, that trusts when there appears to be very little reason to trust.

But this faith is not unreasonable. Probe deeper, and you will find a reason so compelling that it cannot be honestly escaped. “For the Father loves the Son,” – twice He says it in the Gospel of St John, as if to confirm its truth, so that we should not doubt it when we see Him later suffering on the Cross. It is faith in this love that makes this unreasonable, unjust, unbearable cross become our joy – and our salvation.

For without this trust, without this utter surrender into the hands of the Father, accepting whatever, whatever mind you, may come; without this trust we will never experience what the love of God really means. The seed cannot grow into a plant and bear fruit if it does not first surrender to gravity, fall to the ground and die. The Cross represents our surrender of the ego, and our submission to having it broken, however painful that may be, however unfair that may seem. The injustice becomes bearable because it comes from the hand of the Father, who loves us.

That is not the whole story. There is a happy ending:

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
“For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

Fr Ant

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Lent and Lentils

It’s Lent again: Hooray!

By now, you may be reading the above words with disbelief. There is an ever-present temptation in times of fasting to dread what’s coming. The whole problem of having to be limited to fasting foods, the gastric pain of abstinence, and for all you poor mothers (and fathers) who have to prepare the food, that constantly annoying question of “Whatever am I going to cook tonight? We’re sick of lentils!”

Interestingly, the vegan vegetarian diet we adopt in Lent is meant to hark back to Paradise (did they have lentils in the Garden of Eden???) For of course, before the Fall, Adam and Eve ate no foods that involved the killing or suffering of animals.

The simpler diet is meant to lead us to a simpler lifestyle. Today, the variety of vegan foods available is far greater than it has ever been in history, I think. And yet, we still grumble.

My Confession Father once advised me to consider food and drink as nothing more than petrol for the tank during fasting times. Don’t worry about variety and taste and consistency, and all that stuff. So long as it contains the energy and nutrients you need to go about your daily business, just eat it. I have found that a very useful way to look at fasting food.

It confers the added benefit of independence. It is somehow liberating to be able to genuinely eat whatever food happens to present itself before you at any given time, and be quite content. There is a kind of joy in the victory over your tastebuds: “Aha, little buds! I have you now! No longer will you enslave me with your petty pickiness. I’ll show you … have another mouthful of lentils! Take that! And that!”

You may have noticed by now that I have lentils on the mind. I like lentils. They are small and humble, a poor man’s meal. And yet, with the right seasoning, they can be quite delicious. But they’re really not a Western dish. Many young people find a good bowl of lentils quite hard to stomach. And so they suffer in times like Lent. I sympathise. It took me some time to gain the victory over my stubborn tastebuds.

But then, isn’t that what Lent is all about? To eat like a poor person, that you may feel more empathy for the poor, be moved to help them more, and perhaps appreciate your own daily gifts that much more as well. The traditional great Easter Feast after the Resurrection liturgy is more than just a time for meatballs and turkey! It is a time for renewing old friendships with those chums, it is true. But think of the joy of that reunion. Think of how nice that food tastes, after a separation of 55 days. Well, maybe it’s better not to think too much about that when we’re only a couple of weeks into Lent. But my point is that “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. Through fasting, the joy of food that God created for us is renewed and reinvigorated, and with it, our joy in the Creator of the food Himself. As St Paul says, “Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

So in Lent, we experience the victory of the spirit over the body, and thus approach closer to God. And after Lent is over, we experience the joy that God has written into all His creation, and thus approach closer to God. Each is all the more vivid an experience because of its opposite. Without the contrast, neither would be as powerful in leading us to God. In a simlar way, marriage throws into relief the beauty of the selfless sacrifice of celibacy, and celibacy brings an appreciation of the sacred mystery of marriage.

Lent … and lentils. Hmmm.

I think they were made for each other.

Fr Ant

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“In Weakness…”

Amin writes:

…how can we unite our weakness with the strength of God as we carry our cross and feel its heavy burden? How is possible to feel my weakness under that cross, but at the same time be able to say with St. Paul, “when I am weak, then I am strong”??

This is one of the great paradoxes of Christianity, and like any paradox it is hard to comprehend, harder still to practice.

But also like most paradoxes, it has a rational solution. My understanding of it is this:

The key lies in the reality of the grace of God.

When I feel strong, I find myself depending on my own personal resources; my strength, my intelligence, my friends perhaps. I turn to theses resources for support and I expect them to resolve my life issues. So long as I do this, God steps back in His infinitely gentle love and allows me to do things ‘my way’. I feel strong.

But every now and then, a situation arises that is well beyond the ability of my own resources. I try to deal with it alone, and fail; sometimes miserably. At the end of my wits, I finally am compelled to turn to God and cry out to Him for help. Now, I am weak.

And here is where the real presence of God often manifests in the most amazing of ways. Our gentle and compassionate God steps in and does that which was impossible for me alone, impossible for any of my resources to achieve. Not only am I saved, but I have also touched the reality of the love of God – something I should never forget again, especially in times of trouble. Now, I do not feel strong (for I have also touched my own weakness), and yet I am incredibly strong (with the strength of God).

Perhaps a tale may help illustrate this experience. In my student days I travelled overseas and was asked to escort an elderly and infirm lady on my plane trip back from Cairo to Sydney. On arrival in Singapore, I learned that the lady’s ticket was only a standby ticket, hastily purchased at the last minute to allow her to travel on the same flihgt I had booked months in advance. Unfortunately, there was no room for her on the connecting flight from Singapore to Sydney, and I was informed that she would have to wait until a seat became vacant on a later flight. I noticed a couple of men in suits arguing at the next counter that they had been waiting three days for a vacancy on a flight to Sydney. This did not bode well…

I certainly couldn’t leave the poor lady alone in Singapore with no English and poor health, yet an extended wait in Singapore was going to cause me some serious problems. But there was nothing within my power to do. Only, to turn to God. A phone call to my longsuffering mother recruited her prayers, and with her, her favorite intercessors. I recall that Psalm 130 played a prominent role in those difficult hours.

Resigned to my fate, I returned to the ticket desk as requested, half an hour before our flight was due to depart. I stood in line quietly behind our two immaculately suited gentlemen as they loudly argued and protested and abused the poor airline lady behind the counter. Suddenly, the lady’s face popped out from behind the men and she beckoned me to approach. With a look of frustration on her face she checked the elderly lady in to the one vacant seat on the flight and whispered to me, “Hurry, the plane’s about to leave!”

I didn’t hang around to see the reaction of the irate businessmen. And I suspect that poor old lady hadn’t walked quite so fast as she did that day for many years. But we made the plane, and that blessed lady arrived safely to be recieved into her anxious relatives’ embrace. There was nothing I could do about that situation; but upon surrendering to God’s will, I discovered just how much He can do.

“When I am weak, then I am strong.”

Fr Ant

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Thank You God

I feel very thankful at the moment. Strangely enough, at the moment, life is pretty tough.

It is one of those things in us that Christ turns upside down when we strive to truly follow Him. The natural response when things are hard is to cry out for deliverance. “Save me Lord!” And here is where the miracle happens; one by one, the experiences of God’s kindness and mercy accumulate in our lives and in our memories. Little by little we build up a principle in life: God is here…


“Can a woman forget her nursing child, And not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget , Yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands” (Isaiah 49:15,16)

We learn that to ask God to stop our troubles forever is not sensible, nor is it a prayer He will grant. It’s just not in our best interests. We look to short term gain while He takes an eternal perspective. But He grants us relief from the immediate problem, in His own time, of course. That’s where the thankfulness comes in.

Lately, the problems in my life have been a little larger and somewhat more complex than usual. Being back at St Mark’s College for a while has meant quite a few more convoluted issues to be dealt with than I really would have chosen for myself. (It is funny how people congratulate you on being appointed a responsibility like this. Here’s how it sounds to me: “Hey, congratulations on being given a crushing responsibility, which, if you don’t carry out faithfully will leave the spiritual blood of hundreds of innocent young souls on your hands! How wonderful that you won’t have time to breath for the next six months! We’re so happy for you!”)

But as usual, the experience is once again nothing more than a reaffirmation of God’s incredible power and His all-embracing love…

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

Problem after thorny problem is solved, and it passes.
All things must pass.
No problem lasts forever.
God is very, very good to us, His children.

The blessing of difficult times lies partly in the fact that it is in these times that we most experience the power of God in our lives, and thus touch His love in a very concrete way. The old Arabic proverb is very fitting: “The bitterness that God gives is sweeter than the sweetness the world gives”.

It is in tough times, when our own hopeless inadequacy and sinfulness is brutally revealed that we finally know the truth about ourselves. And it is in those times we learn of the incredible mercy of God that elevates us beyond anything we had imagined…

“And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9,10)

And so I am thankful; very, very thankful. I am thankful that God is slowly removing from me the unbearable burden of achieving perfection by my own means, and replacing it, piece by painful piece, with dependance on Him. I am thankful for every problem that comes along, for it offers yet another opportunity for me to wait upon the Lord, to learn to trust Him, and eventually to touch and be touched by the tenderness of His infinite care. It seems such an inadequate response, but it is all I have to offer:

Thank You God.

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Bush Fires of Love

The bushfires in Victoria over the past week or two have certainly shaken our country. It is hard not to be touched by these scenes of human tragedy in our own ‘backyard’.

We have seen images of charred homes on the news, weeping families and stubbornly resilient hope in people’s eyes. We have seen people’s lives destroyed and acts of heroic courage. We have seen a huge outpouring of support, in words and in donations, for the victims of the fires. We have seen acts of profound selflessness, evidence that there remain in our days people who genuinely care for others.

I received an email that contained this message:

“…a volunteer firefighter who spent three days fighting the fires, saving lives and homes, finally went to his own home for some badly-needed sleep. His house burnt down at 3.30 am while he was sleeping in it.”

I am reminded of the words of our Lord Jesus:

“Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

Some may see this as a gross injustice. Why should a man who worked so hard to save others be treated in this shabby way by life? What had he done that he deserved to die?

But there is a bigger picture: the same words might have been said of Jesus Himself as He hung on the Cross.

When Love enters, Justice retires to the back of the room, for one far greater is present. Love is not about justice for oneself – it is about the giving of oneself. Often, to give in love means to surrender one’s rights willingly and happily.

I don’t know anything else about his firefighter, whether he was a good man or not, whether he loved God or went to Church. But I think his act of selfless giving to save others would not go unrewarded by God.

If nothing else, it is interesting to contemplate that we all must die, one day, somehow. Perhaps this way of dying gives meaning to his life, more than many other ways he might have died? And perhaps that makes his life a life worth living.

Selfless self-sacrifice has its own rewards, not just in eternity, but also here on earth. It means something to forget the self and to serve others, regardless of the cost. How many people are at this very moment stumbling through their day without a real purpose, living selfish lives without meaning?

Perhaps the fire-fighter’s sacrifice is to be celebrated; perhaps we should reserve some sadness for those who still walk on the earth but are dead inside.

Fr Ant

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Trundling Past 40

On the 24th January, 1969, a number of historical events occurred…

Richard Nixon was President of the United States and the war in Vietnam was dragging on…

Martial law was declared in Madrid, Spain, the University of Madrid was closed down and 300 students were arrested under the regime of General Franco…

TV’s favorite shows (in black and white) were Gomer Pile, Star Trek and High Chaparral…

The race between Russia and America to be the first to land on the moon was hotting up…

Time Magazine reported on how much the life of a negro in America had improved: only 27% of negros were below the poverty line!

On that same day, a more joyous event occurred that affected the lives of tens of thousands of Copts who had, or were, to migrate to Australia:

The Nematalla family, headed by the recently ordained Hegumen Fr Mina, pulled in to Melbourne on an ocean liner on their way to their destination in Sydney and stepped on Australian soil for the first time. Shortly thereafter, using korban bread baked on the ship as it drew into port, the very first Coptic Orthodox liturgy was prayed in Australia. These events were to be repeated two days later in Sydney Harbour, where this time, Fr Mina and his family had come to stay.

And thus, the Coptic Orthodox Church in Australia was born.

A few days ago we commemorated the 40th anniversary of this landmark event. Anniversaries are a time for celebration of achievments, and it is not uncommon on occasions such as this to list facts like the number of Churches opened and marriages conducted. But I think it should also be a time for self-reflection.

A Church is not really about the number of buildings built or acreage owned. It is not about successful services established, nor even about converts won or congregations grown. Christ never seems to have been interested in that sort of thing, and His Apostles, if their writings are anything to go by, did not measure their mission in these terms. That’s not to say that these things are not important – they are, in that they are the scaffold we use to build the true structure of the Church. But no one builds a building and then lives on the scaffold!

The true Church building exists is the hearts and lives of its members. Every good deed, every honest word, every act of compassion, every willing self-sacrifice, every sincere repentance and every genuine prayer is a brick in the Church of Christ. God does not need physical temples in which to dwell – He wants our hearts for His abode.

So how would the balance sheet of the Coptic Orthodox Church in Sydney over the past 40 years fare on these criteria? They are not tangible, and therefore not measurable, but they are the only true indicators of success for a Church. There are Churches that are mere shells – beautiful exteriors encasing spiritual emptiness. We pray for our Church never to become one of those.

Well, you are part of your Church, and thus partially responsible for its performance: so what would your report card look like?

Fr Ant

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Contentment…

Life will always have its ups and downs, as I am quite sure you know by now. One of my favorite passages in the Bible is the bit that comes before the famous verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. It reads:

Philippians 4:11-13
Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content:
I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.
Everywhere and in all things
I have learned both to be full and to be hungry,
both to abound and to suffer need.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

St Paul says a lot of things like that, and it always strikes me that that is the only way a human being can be truly invincible. When your treasure is in Heaven, no one can take it away from you, and no earthly troubles can take away your joy.

I find this to be one of the ways I can tell how sincere my faith in Christ is at any given time. If tribulations come along and I find myself disturbed by them and restless, it is a sure sign that there is something wrong in my relationship with God. It is a message for me to turn back to Him in abject repentance and implore Him for His mercy and forgiveness, and His aid in my weakness.

And yet, we need to distinguish between what is a purely human reaction to life and what is a spiritual state. As humans, our brains are made of cells and chemicals and electrical impulses, and sometimes these physical systems run ahead of our conscious, spiritual mind. Our reaction to pain is a case in point. A person can be totally and utterly convinced that the needle the doctor is about to poke into her skin is for her own good, and will not hurt that much, and yet, she may still flinch and sweat and feel her heart race at the sight of it.

Human brains can sometimes run off on their own into anxiety, or depression, or fear, or anger; all by themselves. So what is the difference between a Christian and a non-Christian? The Christian doesn’t suddenly become super-human and beyond human physical instincts and frailty. Even the Lord Christ Himself, when He became human, suffered this kind of reaction in the Garden of Gethsemane. That is what it means to be human.

But to be Christian means to subject the body to the spirit. In Gethsemane, after the weeping and pain came surrender and peace. For the Christian, after the internal battle with the flesh comes surrender to God’s will, and all that this surrender bestows. Love, Joy, Peace. The fruits of the Holy spirit (Galatians 5:22ff) are the gift of God to His children. These are fruits that are practical treasures – not treasures to be locked up in a safe and never seen, but treasures that transform our lives daily and bring fulfilment and contentment to us, we humans whose instincts and desires might never allow us to experience true contentment otherwise.

To follow in the path of Christ is to find this true contentment, in whatever state one is. “If you love Me,” He said, “You will keep My commandments”. Sinners and tax collectors who loved Him in humility and offered a genuine repentance found acceptance and forgiveness with Christ. Their lives were transformed and Love, Joy and Peace became their treasure. The Chief Priests, Scribes and Pharisees practiced a legalistic obedience to God, and yet were always willing to disobey Him in their hearts, seeking their own wills above God’s, trusting to their own wisdom rather than simply obeying the Truth of God. You will recall what Christ said to them…

True contentment is never found in one’s external situation, for that can never be perfect so long as we dwell on earth, nor should we expect it to be. Nor should we set our hopes on making our lives perfect in this world. No, true contentment comes from winning the battle of the ego within, from sincere surrender to God, unconditionally and totally. It begins inside, and works its way out to one’s external life.

It is the seed of Surrender that bears the Fruit of the Holy Spirit.

Fr Ant

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Little Nasties Continued

Angela asks how one can deal with the Little Nasties: the unexpected sins one discovers inside one’s heart.

Finding the Little Nasties within is not always an easy task. They have prodigious camouflage abilities and even when you pick up their scent, they can be surprisingly slippery. And when you finally manage to corner them, they have a way of turning on you viciously.

The faults within us are clever at dressing themselves up as virtues, and it is not uncommon to find that I can be regularly committing a sin under the guise of self-righteousness. “Of course I had to get angry with him – he had to be put in his place. Let’s see him try that with me again!” Detecting a Little Nasty requires a great deal of courage, the courage to strip away the comfortable covering of feeling good about oneself and exposing the raw mess underneath. It is much like cleaning the slough off a nasty festering skin wound – it hurts a lot, but it has to be done so the infection doesn’t end up killing you.

In tandem with courage, brutal honesty will help a great deal. We can all be quite honest about the faults of others (at least within ourselves) but for some reason we find difficulty in applying the same standard of honesty to our own situation.

I don’t think it is possible to attain this sort of honesty without first offering up a sacrifice. The great ox of being pleased with oneself must first be led to the altar and slaughtered, its remains burned as a sweet aroma of surrender on the altar of Truth. Until one gives up this powerful desire to be pleased with oneself, it is virtually impossible to be honest, for it bestows the strongest motivation to find another way of looking at things, a way that is more acceptable and less damning. Once this major barrier is broken down, the door is opened for God to enter and begin the long laborious task of rebuilding one’s self afresh; only this time, He will do it the right way.

Do not misunderstand – I am not saying that one should live their life feeling miserable and despondent about themselves – far from it! For the rebuilt self-image in which God participates is immensely pleasing, but for very different reasons. The self-pleasing image of myself brings misery in the end, for it is based on lies. But the divinely designed self-image is based on Truth, and “the truth will set you free”.

There is an immense joy and peace that comes from seeing the truth in yourself. It is peace because you can feel secure that there are no nasty surprises lurking unseen or undetected and waiting to jump out and destroy your life, or at least your comfortable self-image. No, everything is out in the open, nothing is hidden, what you see is what you get, so you know exactly what you are dealing with. That is actually quite peaceful, even if what you are dealing with involves Little Nasties. Better the cockroach you see and deal with than the cockroach you nervously hear scratching about somewhere behind your pillow!

And it is joy, for Truth brings its own joy. We experience this joy when we learn something new about the truth of God’s creation, for example; like the joy of neatly solving a complex puzzle or of learning how wonderfully designed an eye is. Truth just fits together so neatly! It is as deeply satisfying as clicking the 1000th piece of a jigsaw puzzle into place and stepping back to enjoy the completed masterpiece that cost you so much time and effort. Knowing the truth about the Little Nasties within is similarly satisfying – the picture is not so pretty, but there is a great deal of happiness to be found in finishing it off.

But also like a jigsaw puzzle, putting the real picture together can be incredibly difficult at times. Little Nasties can be a bit like quicksilver – just when you think you’ve got a good grasp, it slips right through your fingers.

You find a Little Nasty in your heart. But within days, perhaps hours, you have been distracted, or become busy with other matters, or subconsciously avoided pursuing it, until before you know it, the Little Nasty has been consigned to that drawer in your mind marked “For Future Investigation – When I Have the Leisure”. For of course, there are far more pressing matters to attend to, aren’t there?

Grasping and holding quicksilver needs patience and care, and a bit of experience. So does hunting Little Nasties. Experience is a great teacher, and the little critters become easier to catch when you’ve learned a few of their tricks so you go in prepared for them. Setting aside some uninterrupted daily time for hunting Little Nasties is one strategy. Moments of quiet contemplation are invaluable in this pursuit. How many Little Nasties have I trapped sitting alone in an empty Church with nothing but my thoughts for company, or walking in a park, or gazing upon the ocean waves lapping on the shore? It is in these moments of serenity that the Spirit of God is most able to work in us.

Dogged persistence is another invaluable tool. There are creatures in nature that bite a human and will never let go, even if they die. I think God may have created these tenacious critters partly as a example for us. Once you have the Little Nasty in your sights, don’t give up until you have flushed it into the open and dealt with it!
Neither should one enter into a conversation with the Little Nasty. Often these conversations end up with the Little Nasty convincing you that it’s not really so bad, and giving you a hundred reasons to let it go, and lulling you into a false sense of security. Do not even begin such a conversation! If you find yourself in one, get out! Tell the Little Nasty, “Get behind me, Satan!”

Worst of all is when a cornered Little Nasty turns vicious. It can rip your soul out, if you let it. It can turn the blame back on you so powerfully that you lose your confidence and your hope and collapse in a shivering heap while it makes its getaway to the safety of the shadows of your heart once more.

“How dare you think you can deal with me in this way?

Who do you think you are?

Don’t you see what a horrible, sinful wreck you are?

Do you really think that the likes of you can ever be a good person?

Come on, who do you think you’re kidding?

I am only the smallest and weakest of your zoo of Little Nasties; there are many more like me you know, and they’re much worse than I am.

Why are you picking on me?

And do you really think you will ever get us all out?

Better men than you have tried before this, and failed!”

This is the kind of stinging attack of which only the desperate are capable. And it can really ram home. The best shield against it is humility. Humility is shield that is made of the strongest materials there are: it is made of God’s grace and bound together by His unconditional love. When it is shiny and polished and well cared for, you can see your reflection in it, but it is a reflection from the loving, gentle, compassionate grace of God that reflects the deep beauty He created in us rather than the ugliness we have accumulated through our years. Oh, you can’t hide the ugliness and you know it’s still there, but somehow when you see that ugliness reflected from God’s grace and love, the original beauty God designed for you shines through it and transforms it.

“Yes,” you find yourself responding to the vicious attack of the cornered Little Nasty, “I am all that you say I am, it is true. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. And He still loves me with all my weakness and faults. And if He has hope for me, then neither will I abandon hope. If He can still see what I might become, if He has a plan for transforming me, then I will trust myself to His grace and love, and I will patiently hunt down every single Nasty that I have so foolishly invited into my heart until I have banished every single one, or until my last dying breath stops me. Now stop your ruckus and give yourself up, for you must know that you will not escape me today, no matter what you do. For the Lord of Truth is by my side.”

To every hunt, there must come an end, one way or another. Sometimes, our Little Nasties get away, but sometimes we catch them and eradicate them from our hearts.

Happy hunting!

Fr Ant