“The doctrine of beatific vision, borrowed by St. Augustine from the Neo–Platonists, whereby man’s destiny is to become completely happy in the possession of the vision of the divine essence, is unknown to the Greek patristic Tradition. Man’s desire is rather the transformation of the desire for happiness into a non–utilitarian love which does not seek its own.” – Fr. John Romanides
I have spent most of my younger Orthodox life being most concerned about offending God. Myself offending God. Others offending God. My people (us) offending God.
I’ve begun to think that God is most offended by how men act toward one another. Most offended by failure to love one another. By my failure. In other words, it is the offenses I commit against others that are the most grievous – not offenses against God per se. There’s no dichotomy, of course, for the one thing is the other. “Against Thee only have I sinned.” But it seems that failure to love one another is the worst sin.
I don’t mean philosophical or psychological love – how we think or feel about each other in theory or apart from action. It is so common to hold up philosophical “love” or mere warmth as superior to all, and claim that this is what Christ taught. Such an approach dismisses the fathers, who think quite differently. St. Photius, for example, said the highest form of love is to tell the truth. Something similar, I believe, was said by St. Maximus.
So often, “love”, philosophical love, is held up in dichotomy with whatever the speaker doesn’t like. If you want to discuss getting rid of the pews and the organ, invariably someone will say “love is the most important thing.” If you want to talk of our obligations to fast and pray, you’ll hear “love is over all.” Usually, this is just a way of dismissing any unwanted or unliked discussion or suggestion, and represents an unanswerable superiority. It’s what logicians call a “thought terminating cliche” – a cliche that quells thought itself. In short, it’s talking of love without having love. It’s idle talk. Theory. The presumption is that this vision of love is something the speaker has, or knows of, and so is somehow elevated above the things that concern others, above the conversation.
But this is precisely not the kind of “love” or love-talk that I mean. I mean how one actually treats other people, including in those moments. Am I superior, or do I take the path of being inferior, as the Fathers teach? I am beginning to think that the biggest concern that God has expressed in the scriptures, in the liturgy, and in the consensus of our Fathers, is for how we treat one another – whether with kindness or mere civility, simple generosity or jealousy. He seems to forgive all manner of offenses against him, but stresses loving one another, and is much harder on those offenses.
I mean nothing especially profound, here. And I am still concerned about offenses against God. But I am beginning, I think, to shift, weighing things a little differently. It is much better that my brother offend God, than that I offend God even more by scorn in my heart for my brother.
The liturgy says, “With fear of God, with faith and love draw near”. Some enterprising revisionists have expurgated the word ‘fear’, not understanding it, or sharing the Faith of our fathers who prayed this, and saved themselves, and then led us to the Faith. One writer has said, in true Orthodox fashion, that these correspond not only to the psychology of fear, faith, and love, but to the parts of the temple as well as to progress in Orthodoxy. Fear corresponds to the outer part of the temple, the narthex, and to the beginning of Christianity, by which we learn reverence, respect, awe, honor, the height of God and depth of our sin. And we never lose this, if we remain faithful. Faith represents the inner part of the temple, the nave, and standing with the faithful, confessing the true doctrines of the Church and singing true prayers. Love represents the chalice itself, the altar, and our approaching it, keeping in mind the prayers of access that we say (“that with boldness and without condemnation”), and the fullness of life in Christ and therefore life with each other – the peace with God that brings peace among all men.
I seem to be making a little progress.
Two loves have built two cities: the City of God and the city of man. – St. Augustine
“The bodies of fellow human beings must be treated with greater care than our own. Christian love teaches us to give our brethren not only spiritual gifts, but material gifts as well. Even our last shirt, our last piece of bread must be given to them. Personal almsgiving and the most wide-ranging social work are equally justifiable and necessary. The way to God lies through love of other people and there is no other way. At the Last Judgment I shall not be asked if I was successful in my ascetic exercises or how many prostrations I made in the course of my prayers. I shall be asked, did I feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and the prisoners: that is all I shall be asked.” – Saint Maria Skobtsova of Paris [source]
“And it came to pass in those days, that he went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God. And when it was day, he called unto him his disciples: and of them he chose twelve, whom also he named apostles; Simon, (whom he also named Peter,) and Andrew his brother, James and John, Philip and Bartholomew, Matthew and Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon called Zelotes, And Judas the brother of James, and Judas Iscariot, which also was the traitor. And he came down with them, and stood in the plain, and the company of his disciples, and a great multitude of people out of all Judaea and Jerusalem, and from the sea coast of Tyre and Sidon, which came to hear him, and to be healed of their diseases; And they that were vexed with unclean spirits: and they were healed. And the whole multitude sought to touch him: for there went virtue out of him, and healed them all.
And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, …
I once told a friend that I was setting out on a journey to learn to love my wife. I believed that if I learned to love my wife, I would learn to love others. And if I can’t learn to love my wife, I told him, then I fear I will never learn to love anyone. My friend periodically, after long periods of time, writes to ask me if I’ve learned to love my wife. And I have always written back, “Not yet. I think it will take a long time.” Recently, I wrote to him to say:
“I haven’t learned to love my wife, but I’ve learned a different thing. I have learned to always be moving into love with my wife. But this is doing the thing I wanted. It it teaching me to love others.”
I have been listening to the Fathers telling me that pride is a denial of God, one of the forms of atheism, and that there is only one sin: that of despising anyone. I am listening. I am beginning to learn the beginning. To begin as often as necessary, as a rule, but to strive also for the end.
There is a gentle, unceasingly light. Love abroad. Love on the move. Love walking about in the world. Love looking for the beloved, calling the lover, and making, in the local sense, where anyone will, the unity of all men. I am experiencing it in my friendships; I am learning to love my enemies. I am learning to love those who have left scars.
Listening. I am listening, to be learning to ever be moving into love with my wife. Keep my feet, Father. Make of my heart a fire, a welcome door. Make my heart into alms, and save me.
O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, meddling, lust of power and idle talk. But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience and love to Thy servant. Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own sins and not to judge my brother, for Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen.