“Do good, and with a simple heart share the fruits of your labor which God gives to you with all those who are poor, not wondering to whom you should give and to whom you should not give. Give to all, for God wishes that you give to all from His gifts to you.”
for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. (James 1:20)
Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. (Ephesians 4:31-32)
St. Paul warns that those who act in anger will not inherit the kingdom of heaven (Galatians 5:20-21). The spiritual literature of Christianity through the centuries kept anger (or one of its manifestations – wrath, rage, revenge, hatred, etc) as one of the deadly sins or passions which Christians were to work to overcome. And though the New Testament does allow for anger as long as it doesn’t involve sin (Ephesians 4:26), anger was viewed as a dangerous and destructive passion for it often overwhelms the rational thought process and pushes people to act hastily and with force disregarding wisdom or a measured response.
Christ does not want you to feel the least hatred, resentment, anger or rancor towards anyone in any way or on account of any transitory thing whatsoever. This is proclaimed throughout the four Gospels.” (St. Maximos the Confessor, THE PHILOKALIA, Kindle Loc. 13842-44)
Anger can give us a sense of empowerment – even when we are in the wrong or have not authority in a situation. Our angry response towards others is often more a measure of our own feelings than a proper evaluation of the wrong we think someone else has done. Anger can arise in prayer, making us think it is righteous, but often is a sign of our own spiritual illness.
When you pray as you should, thoughts will come to you which make you feel that you have a real right to be angry. But anger with your neighbor is never right. If you search you will find that things can always be arranged without anger. So do all you can not to break out into anger. Take care that, while appearing to cure someone else, you yourself do not remain uncured, in this way thwarting your prayer. (St. John Cassian, THE PHILOKALIA, Kindle Loc. 1302-8)
The cure for anger? Humility is a cure all for much of what ails us spiritually in Orthodox literature. The humble person maintains an even keel no matter what is going on – be it praise or criticism – and does not react to others but carefully chooses their actions. Humility stops us from getting emotionally charged by everything that happens around us. But anger can also be overcome by the combination of courage and mercy – which may not seem like they can go together, but they are at the heart of what it is to be a Christian.
Nothing so converts anger into joy and gentleness as courage and mercy. Like a siege-engine, courage shatters enemies attacking the soul from without, mercy those attacking it from within. (St Gregory of Sinai, THE PHILOKALIA, Kindle 43079-43081)
One would expect that if Jesus was trying to convert the world and make everyone be His followers, His disciples, that He would aim to meet with the most influential people around. When he went into a town, you would think He would try to talk to the village chief, the mayor the town, the high priest or someone of some influence and importance.
Yet, the Gospels tell us that Jesus meeting with important people – The Governor Pontius Pilate, King Herod, and the High Priest – did not go so well for Jesus.
It seems Jesus was not much of a top – down thinker, but rather was one to move from the bottom up. Or maybe for Jesus there are no real important people contrasted with unimportant people. For Christ, all people, whatever their age, gender, social rank, skin color, nationality or language are simple people – God’s creatures all of equal value, yet of infinite importance to God.
When Jesus begins talking to the Samaritan woman , according to history her name is Photini, as he sits by the well in the village of Sychar, He is not being distracted from His true mission. Christ is there to unite all humans to God. It’s just as significant to start with one woman, and a sinner at that, as with some man of influence. Christ redeems us personally as we all form a relationship with Him.
Jesus engages in a serious theological discussion with this “sinful” woman. She is a a social outcast. First of course she is a Samaritan, a kind of people whom the Jews despised. But then even within the Samaritan people she is an outcast: Married multiple times, living with a man who is not her husband – coming to the well at Noon instead of in the morning when all the rest of the women of the town were there.
Yet, strangely, and God does work in mysterious ways, by avoiding the crowd, by avoiding the social life, she finds God.
But still, if Jesus wants to convert the world, why is He wasting His time with this social failure and misfit? She’s not exactly His poster child, nor a good PR spokesperson, nor a person who respectable people would trust.
Jesus Himself is quite willing to speak with her, He is not distracted or annoyed. He is on task, fully engaged, fulfilling His mission. Speaking with this woman is not beneath His dignity. He is not amusing Himself, or her. He doesn’t leave this task of talking to this insignificant woman to His disciples. He is fully engaged with her, and wants to give her what He has to offer. No sense whatsoever that talking with this woman is less important to Him than talking to Jews or to His disciples.
Photini comes seeking well water to drink, goes away thirsting for living water. She comes looking with her body, her feelings, her physical needs, her eyes. She leaves looking for living water for her soul, seeing Jesus no longer as a Man, Jewish male, but as the Messiah. Her heart, soul, mind have been awakened – given life.
She realizes that when it comes to the spiritual life, we cannot take every discussion at face value. The discussion on water, on living water, is not about H2O but about the Holy Spirit.
“Living water.” Not water having living things in it (like fish), but having life in the water itself, having the power of life, life-giving. It is flowing, moving water from a spring – the source can’t be seen, it is deep and hidden, yet the water is flowing from it. It is an image of God.
It is not pond water, or puddles of rain water. Not even the purest bottled water. But water that is forcefully moving, has vitality to it. It moves and can move things. Like all gushing water it makes sound – it is seen and heard.
Photini comes to know what each of us here has to come to know, a relationship with God is a spiritual relationship which requires me to think in a spiritual way about spiritual things. Even words like heart, mind, eyes, ears, hands have a spiritual meaning, and we have to be able to move beyond the physical to understand the spiritual.
The Gospel lesson about Photini is about you and me and our relationship to Jesus Christ and to God.
And so we see in the Scriptures that God describes Himself as the fountain of living water:
O LORD, the hope of Israel, all who forsake You shall be put to shame; those who turn away from You shall be written in the earth, for they have forsaken the LORD, the fountain of living water. Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved; for You are my praise. (Jeremiah 17:13-14)
If we want living water, we have to find God in our lives. We cannot buy this living water, it’s not a commodity for sale, for Christ gives it to us freely as a gift. Our task is to know how to receive it.
And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the fountain of the water of life without payment. (Revelation 21:6)
The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let him who hears say, “Come.” And let him who is thirsty come, let him who desires take the water of life without price. (Revelation 22:17)
St. Ignatius of Antioch says this: “My love has been crucified and there is no burning love within me for material things; instead there is living water, which also is speaking in me, saying to me from within: “Come to the Father.” I have no pleasure in the food that perishes nor in the pleasures of this life. I desire the bread of God, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, from the seed of David; and for drink I desire his blood, which is imperishable love.”
The living water is tangible, yet completely spiritual! Women and men, everyone is offered this gift by Christ. Receive it! Christ offers this gift to sinners, misfits, failures, people of any race or color, female or male, young or old. He offers this to all people – to each of us, without exception.
As Isaiah the Prophet proclaimed:
You will say in that day:
I will give thanks to you, O LORD,
for though you were angry with me,
your anger turned away,
and you comforted me.
Surely God is my salvation;
I will trust, and will not be afraid,
for the LORD GOD is my strength and my might;
he has become my salvation.
With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.
And you will say in that day:
Give thanks to the LORD,
call on his name;
make known his deeds among the nations;
proclaim that his name is exalted.
Sing praises to the LORD, for he has done gloriously;
let this be known in all the earth.
Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion,
for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.
“My faith, finally, is that if I am canceled by the power death has in our world, then God’s greater power can overcome it.” (John Garvey, Death and the Rest of Our Life, p. 78)
On my first visit to Armenia in 1990, I visited the home of Anahid and Kevork Oynoyan. They had lost their twelve-year-old son, Armen, in the catastrophic earthquake of December 1988, and Kevork was profoundly depressed as a result. . . . He got up and brought back a copy of the New Testament and a book that had been distributed by the Hare Krishna sect describing the transmigration and reincarnation of the soul. He asked if I would explain the difference between reincarnation and the Christian belief in the resurrection. He said that in his atheism classes years before he had been taught that Christianity is spiritualist. If that was so, weren’t reincarnation and resurrection essentially the same?
I suggested that we read 1 Corinthians 15, where St. Paul defends the belief in the resurrection of the body and the soul. In silence, visibly and deeply absorbed, Kevork read that chapter not once but several times. Then joyfully shouted, “So Christianity is materialist!” The darkness had lifted, because in St. Paul’s teaching Kevork had discovered what he had hoped would be there but had not found in the book on reincarnation: the assurance that he would see his son again, recognize him, and be able to love him in an embrace of the resurrected flesh. In the person of Jesus Christ, God’s love is manifested as life. Jesus’ resurrection proclaims the triumphant power of love and life over death.
(Vigen Guroian, Life’s Living Toward Dying, pp. 27-28)
In the writings of the desert fathers, there is an interesting interplay that occurs regarding a literal understanding of instructions and a literal understanding of the scriptures. The Scriptures reveal Christ and so often are not understood literally or historically but rather are read as signs or prophecies or prototypes of Christ. The Scriptures are to help us remain faithfully united to Christ – and thus their historical or literal truthfulness is not the really important issue. The issue is how they reveal Christ to us and help us follow Christ. In the early Church it is often the heretics who hold to a completely literal interpretation of every text and who fail to understand the true scope of the Scriptures. On the other hand, one sees a literalism that is related to obedience in which the disciple tries to fulfill the wish of the teacher to the letter of the law. So we read:
On another occasion the blessed Arsenius said to Abba Alexander: “Come and eat with me when you have cut your palm-fronds, but if some guests come, eat with them.” So Abba Alexander worked away evenly and moderately; when the time came, he still had palm-fronds. Wishing to fulfill the elder’s instruction, he stayed to complete the palms. When Abba Arsenius saw that he was late, he ate, thinking that [Abba Alexander] had guests, but Abba Alexander went [to him] when he had finished the palm-fronds in the evening and the elder said to him: “You had guests?” and he said: “No.” “So why did you come?” [the elder] said to him. “Because you said to me: ‘When you have cut your palm-fronds, come then,’” he said, “and, observing your instruction, I did not come because I only completed [the task] just now.” The elder was amazed at his scrupulosity and he said to him: “Break your fast earlier so you can perform your synaxis and partake of your water, otherwise your body will soon sicken.” (Give Me a Word: Alphabetical Sayings of the Desert Fathers, pp. 44-45)
Many in the early church read the sin of Eve and Adam as being one of prideful disobedience. The corrective as they saw it was for Christians to be disciples – to follow the discipline of their teachers and not follow their own self-willfulness. Thus we find in the desert fathers many stories of monks diligently and scrupulously obeying their elder’s instructions, even to the point of absurdity. Of course, the point is not to do the absurd, but to emphasize the need to be a disciplined follower of Christ.
“My Lady Mary–
What knowledge bedecks you, what chastity crowns you!
Just as sin once brought the Kingdom of Death to power,
So your grace makes the Kingdom of Justice spring forth.
Just as the Sunrise dispels the shadows of the dawn,
So too the light of faith in your Son dispels the darkness of sin.
Blessed is he who seeks after your love,
Whose footsteps tread the threshold of your house at break of day;
Such a man will be satisfied with your blessings, filled to abundance.
St. Ephrem the Syrian in one of his poems takes us on a tour from Paradise to earth. Paradise is superlatively better than earth, and yet humans cling to the earth and don’t want to leave it. He compares our attitude to death to that of the infant in the mother’s womb – both the dying person and the unborn infant are reluctant to leave the world they know, even if they are entering into an even greater experience or life.
I was in wonder as I crossed
the borders of Paradise
at how well-being, as though a companion
turned round and remained behind.
And when I reached the shore of earth,
the mother of thorns,
I encountered all kinds
of pain and suffering.
I learned how, compared to Paradise,
our abode is but a dungeon;
yet the prisoners within it
weep when they leave it!
I was amazed at how even infants
weep as they leave the womb–
weeping because they come out
from darkness into light
and from suffocation they issue forth
into this world!
Likewise death, too,
is for the world
a symbol of birth,
and yet people weep because they are born
out of this world, the mother of suffering,
into the garden of splendors.
Have pity on me,
O Lord of Paradise,
and if it is not possible for me
to enter your Paradise,
grant that I may graze
outside, by its enclosure;
within, let there be spread
the table for the “diligent,”
but may the fruits within its enclosure
drop outside like the “crumbs”
for sinners, so that, through Your grace,
they may live!
(Hymns on Paradise, pp. 106-108)
The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. (Genesis 6:5)
. . . the LORD said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth; neither will I ever again destroy every living creature as I have done. (Genesis 8:21)
The Genesis account of the Great Flood begins and ends with God woefully acknowledging that the humans He created had a heart which was inclined toward imagining evil even from when the human is quite young. Before and after the Great Flood, nothing had changed in the humans. Evil is described in Scripture and Tradition as coming from within the human – from the imagination of the heart – not from Satan or demons. Humans don’t need a great evil force to push us to do evil, we are quite capable on our own of imagining evil things and then doing them.
The Virgin Mary at the Annunciation sings a hymn in which she recognizes that God’s incarnation means the healing of the human heart. “He has shown strength with his arm, he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts …” (Luke 1:51) For the Theotokos that imagination of the human heart which has conjured up so much evil and caused so much grief for humanity has been blown away by God entering the human condition in the incarnation.
Jesus Himself points to the human heart as the source of all sin. Christ teaches:
And he said, “What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a man.” (Mark 7:20-23)
The rabbis at the time of Jesus also taught that the origin of evil is not in Satan but rather evil resulted in the world from the presence of a wicked imagination (or desire) in the human heart. The 2nd Century Christian book, The Shepherd of Hermas repeats this rabbinical idea that evil in the world originates in the imagination of the human heart. We both can conceive evil and bring it into existence. This idea then is found repeatedly in Orthodox theologians. St Gregory of Nyssa (d. 384AD) writes:
“Man was …. the image and likeness of the power that rules all creation; and this likeness to the ruler of all things also extended to man’s power of self-determination: man could choose whatever pleased him and was not enslaved to any external necessity. But man was led astray by deception and deliberately drew upon himself that catastrophe which all mortals now share. Man himself invented evil: he did not find it in God. Nor did God make death; it was man himself who, as it were, was the creator of all that is evil.” (From Glory to Glory, pp 112-113)
St John Cassian (d. 435AD) says:
“A man can be harmed by another only through the causes of the passions which lie within himself. It is for this reason that God, the Creator of all and the Doctor of men’s souls, who alone has accurate knowledge of the soul’s wounds, does not tell us to forsake the company of men; He tells us to root out the causes of evil within us and to recognize that the soul’s health is achieved not by a man’s separating himself from his fellows, but by his living the ascetic life in the company of holy men. When we abandon our brothers for some apparently good reason, we do not eradicate the motives for dejection but merely exchange them, since the sickness which lies hidden within us will show itself again in other circumstances.” (THE PHILOKALIA, Kindle Loc 2212-24)
“That evil which is evil in itself, namely sin, originates from us. . . . Just as illness was not created by God, although the creature who suffers from it was, so sin was not made by Him, although the rational soul created By Him willingly turns aside after it. This soul was honored with free will and independent life, as without this honor it would have been pointless for it to be rational.” (The Homilies, p 518)
In our daily Orthodox Vespers service we find a prayer asking God to deliver us from this evil imagining of our heart:
O Lord our God, Who bowed the heavens and came down for the salvation of the human race; look upon Your servants and Your inheritance; for to You, the awesome Judge, Who yet love mankind, have Your servants bowed their heads and submissively bent their necks, not waiting for help from men, but asking for Your mercy and looking confidently for Your salvation. Guard them at all times, both during this present evening and in the approaching night, from every foe, from all adverse powers of the Devil, from vain thoughts, and from evil imaginations.
We pray every day at Vespers that God will deliver us from the evil imaginations of our heart. We ask God to guard us against the evil that comes from within our hearts. We ask God daily to prevent us from becoming the source of even more evil in the world.
Great Lent is our time to set a guard over our heart, so that we will not be inclined to evil. This is something for which we pray throughout Lent:
“Incline not my heart to any evil thing, nor to practice wicked deeds.” (Psalms 141:4)
“The Christian concept of envy is twofold. It is the resentment experienced by one person when another person is perceived to have some good that he or she lacks, coupled with the strong desire that the other person be deprived of it.
Rather like vultures and flies, which gravitate toward stenches and festering sores, envious persons glory in the faults and failings of others, relishing the opportunity to broadcast such misdeeds to tarnish reputations.
Thus the healing of the illness of envy requires re-educating the mind as to what constitutes true good (i.e., virtue) and redirecting our fundamental, ambitious impulse away from the noxiousness of envy to this healthy end.”