By Fr. Stephen Freeman, June 26, 2015 Can a nation ever sin? If so, how can it be forgiven? The stories and prophetic writings of the Old Testament are replete with examples of national sin. There are certainly stories of God dealing with individuals, but, on the whole, His attention seems to be directed to Israel and other nations as a whole. The promises and pledges are made to a collective people and the chastisement
The law was given to multiply our opportunities for falling. —Romans 5:20 The pattern of necessary falling or the “myth of transgression” made less and less sense to Western Christianity as it came to think that religion’s purpose was to teach and maintain social and imperial order. The Christian mind eventually had little respect for the ubiquitous disorder in the universe, unlike most native religions—for example, as here in New Mexico where the Puebloan clown deliberately
First the fall, and then the recovery from the fall, and both are the mercy of God. —Julian of Norwich (c. 1343–c. 1416) [1] It is in falling down that we learn almost everything that matters spiritually. As many of the parables seem to say, you have to lose it (or know that you don’t have it) before you will really seek it, then find it, and fittingly celebrate (see all three parables of Luke 15).
Now let’s look at “The Fall,” as we usually refer to the pivotal event described in Genesis 3. The Fall is not simply something that happened in one historical moment to one archetypal couple, Adam and Eve. It happens in all moments and lives. It is the shape of creation. It sets the plot line. After Adam and Eve took their identity as separate from their Source, “the eyes of both of them were opened”
The Judeo-Christian creation story says that we were created in the very “image and likeness” of God: “Let us create humanity in our own image, in the likeness of ourselves” (Genesis 1:26). The true human identity must build on this foundational goodness, a true identity “hidden in the love and mercy of God,” as Thomas Merton once put it. [1] “Image” is our objective identity as children of God and “likeness” is our degree of
By Michael Haldas Thoughts on Our Faculty of Reason, June 1, 2016 “… as a human faculty, faith is unlike, but in a way connected to, the act of reasoning, by which we make sense of the world around us. It is an “understanding” of that which is beyond understanding. Just because something is beyond understanding does not make it unreasonable. Like music and art, faith is not opposed to human intellect, but rather makes
Guest writer and CAC faculty member James Finley continues exploring insights on the true self and false self that he gleaned from Thomas Merton. In the following text, Merton makes clear that the self-proclaimed autonomy of the false self is but an illusion: Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. This is the man I want myself to be but who cannot exist, because God does not know anything
Theognostos (fourteenth century?) is known to us only as the author of the work included in the Philokalia. “When you fall from a higher state, do not become panic-stricken, but through remorse, grief, rigorous self-reproach, and, above all, through copious tears shed in a contrite spirit, correct yourself and return quickly to your former condition. Rising up again after your fall, you will enter the joyous valley of salvation, taking care so far as possible
Your egoic false self is who you think you are, but your thinking does not make it true. Your false self is a social and mental construct to get you started on your life journey. It is a set of agreements between you and your parents, your family, your school chums, your partner or spouse, your culture, and your religion. It is your “container.” It is largely defined in distinction from others, precisely as your separate and
In the Gospel and hymns of the Church for Holy Wednesday, we hear about the sinful woman who broke an alabaster box of costly ointment, wept at Jesus’ feet, and dried them with her hair. She broke the box – i.e. saved nothing for herself – and poured it out as her offering. It cost 300 denarii, which was 300 days’ wages! This latter fact enrages the disciple who sits in a place of honor
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