The Athanasian Creed

Dear Lutheran,

This Sunday is quite an interesting one, at least for you. For this Sunday you will be praying the Athanasian creed. Upon hearing this, I immediately dug out my St. Ambrose prayer book and re-read it, because I was sure I heard wrong. So I did some googling. And aside from some wonderful articles about how people wish they could pray it more often, I didn't find the answer to my question. So I pose it to you, because let's face it, I trust you more than Google.

Allow me to elaborate on the source of my confusion. I was stunned when I was reminded that the LCMS recites the Athanasian creed on Trinity Sunday because my copy of the creed is lacking one simple phrase that Lutherans embrace. As it turns out, the Lutheran version includes: "and the Son" Which is related to the filioque debate. That's not what I want to get into, however. I have some more reading to do before jumping into the filioque debate, and some recent information from my sister who reads more Catholic literature than I do has convinced me that like many other things, we confuse each other with terminology more often than not. What I want to know is quite simple. What does the original document say? It seems to me that St. Athanasius (or whoever wrote it, since it came into use after he died) would want to be very clear about this particular phrase, since it's an issue people were excommunicated over. There has to be paperwork somewhere. And google has too many opinions to tell the truth.

And while we're on the subject, can I express that issues like these frustrate me to no end? We're set up for failure before we begin when we have two almost identical creeds running around, differing in only one sentence. It's like they want us to be more divided or something. End of rant.

Your frustrated and confused friend,
Jacque

Saints Part 3

Dear Lutheran,

I'm obnoxiously busy (but hooray my professional life is going super well!) but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a letter. Here is a postcard just for you:

Revelation 8:4.

Discuss.

Hurriedly yours,
Jacque

Terminology

Dear Lutheran,

Do you ever wonder about terminology? I mean really think about what words mean? I do. All the time. This could be because I have really nerdy reading habits. It could be because I'm a theatre person and words are my job. It could be because I listened to the song "Great Big Words" by Tom Chapin a little too often as a child. Chances are it's a combination of all of those things. Regardless of where my curiosity comes from, I find that words and their interpretation have a tendency to mess things up if both parties aren't clear on their meaning.

In all of my arguments about intercession of the Saints, I've been very careful not to use the phrase "pray to the Saints" for fear of scaring you off with the word. It has recently been brought to my attention that I should still use the word, but clearly define it so as not to create confusion. "Prayer" is a term widely accepted as one that denotes worship. However, this was not always the case. There is in fact a second definition which has since fallen by the wayside.

When reading Shakespeare, there are many times when the characters say, "I pray thee..." or "Prithee..." (sorry-- actor) This is not a religious invocation, but simply another word for "ask." Among the multiple definitions in most dictionaries is this: "An earnest hope or wish," or something quite similar. In this particular case, the definition came from the online Oxford Dictionary.  In Shakespeare's time, when one would to a person, "I pray you will do the right thing" or "I pray you, help me," there certainly could have been religious significance, but more often it was simply a request in earnest. Over time, the word has devolved into one single definition whose sole use is religious and so is often misconstrued. And if we're going to get down to the nitty gritty of language of origin, "pray" comes from the Latin word precari, which means "to entreat".

*Side note* I was so hoping that there would be some Greek origins as well so that I could use a well placed My Big Fat Greek Wedding quote. No matter. This is a blog dedicated to the dialogue between the Orthodox and Lutherans. It will come up at some point.

When I pray to the saints, I ask them to pray for me. I ask them to ask God. Simple as that. Language proves to be a barrier all to often. To steal from Fr. Patrick Reardon's new book, the objection to the word "pray" is not "well founded, nor should a common misunderstanding of a term necessarily preclude it's use, especially when the use is joined to a proper explanation." (Reclaiming the Atonement p.15) Asking a Saint in earnest, *ahem* praying to a Saint is no different than asking a friend to pray for you or putting out some serious request.

Best,
Jacque

A Deviation and a Request

Dear Lutheran,

I had plans for much more scholarly letters this week, but given the events of this past weekend, I would be remiss if I didn't address them.

Alright, so maybe I wouldn't be remiss. But I would somehow disappoint myself, and given that I'm a self-important millennial, I don't do well with disappointing myself. You understand, I'm sure. #millennials #amiright?

I don't feel good about that joke. Not really. And we're back in.

This past weekend was Pascha, or Orthodox Easter. And while it was a time for joy, celebration, and the yearly circulation of this meme in all nerdy Orthodox circles, something very disturbing happened. Within an approximate 24-hour span four Orthodox churches caught fire. Now because of the aforementioned meme and our tendency to enjoy all things old and pyrotechnic like candles and incense, most of the world wasn't terribly surprised. But they should be. You see, given our predisposition towards fire in our services, we're pretty good at it. And sure, there are small fires now and then. Every year I worry about one of the younger parishioners catching my hair on fire. Everyone has a story about an altar boy fainting into his candle due to exhaustion or locked knees, or being hypnotized by the flame (it happens people). Last year on Good Friday I watched Metropolitan Joseph catch a rug on fire when the coals from the incense didn't transfer properly. It's a story for the ages. But all of these incidents end the very same way. People notice and spring into action before the flames get too large. Burning hair is quickly beat out. The flames extinguish before the child who fainted burns his face or anyone else. The fire on the rug was stomped out by a subdeacon and the only casualty was a slightly melted shoe.  We're good at this. Since our traditions have stayed roughly the same since the beginning, I can say that we've been doing this for literally thousands of years and not sound like an obnoxious millennial who is literally dying over the news. #icant.

I don't feel good about that joke either. But it was a logical tie-in, so it must stay.

The problem here is that we should be concerned. These churches didn't just catch fire. They went up in flames. The Serbian church in New York was fully gutted by the time the fire was extinguished. The Greek church in Melbourne suffered huge damages and lost many priceless icons. The Macedonian church in Sydney is now rubble. And let's not forget the 19th century Russian monastery in Valaam. And while nobody knows if it was purposeful or coincidental, the situation is still quite serious. Which is why I'm asking for your prayers.

On Pascha, we celebrate Agape Vespers, where the resurrection gospel is read in as many different languages as possible so that the story can be heard by as many people as possible. It's a beautiful service. Because of all of the culture attached to the Orthodox church, we often pray in many different languages. This week in particular I've called that to mind as I say over and over:

Lord have mercy, Kyrie Eleison, Господи Помилуй (Gospodi pomilui), Señor ten piedad, Bwana utuhurumie, Doamne miluieşte, يا ربّ ارحم (Yā Rabbu rḥam), Lord have mercy.

And while we do not agree on everything, I ask for your prayers, because I am not enough. Pray for peace in the church. Pray for a resolution to the problem, pray for all of the faithful who lost a place of worship. For while the Church is not just a building, this is a devastating loss nonetheless. Pray that we continue to have faith. 

To bring this #fullcircle--oh come on, I had to--I ask for your prayers and the prayers of the Saints during this time. As St. Paul says, "We should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead, who delivered us from so great a death, and who does deliver us; in whom we trust that He will still deliver us, you also helping together in prayer for us, that thanks may be given by many persons on our behalf for the gift granted to us through many" (2 Corinthians 1:9-11). It never hurts to have a few more asking for the Lord's mercy. 

With thanks,

Jacque

Let my prayer arise in thy sight as incense, and let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice.