[ CONTENTS
]THE ASCETIC IDEAL AND THE NEW
TESTAMENT
Reflections on the Critique of the Theology of the
Reformation
© F. George Florovsky
TABLE OF CONTENTS
If the
monastic ideal is union with God through prayer, through humility, through
obedience, through constant recognition of one’s sins, voluntary or involuntary,
through a renunciation of the values of this world, through poverty, through
chastity, through love for mankind and love for God, then is such an ideal
Christian? For some the very raising of such a question may appear strange and
foreign. But the history of Christianity, especially the new theological
attitude that obtained as a result of the Reformation, forces such a question
and demands a serious answer. If the monastic ideal is to attain a creative
spiritual freedom, if the monastic ideal realizes that freedom is attainable
only in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, and if the
monastic ideal asserts that to become a slave to God is ontologically and
existentially the path to becoming free, the path in which humanity fully
becomes human precisely because the created existence of humanity is contingent
upon God, is by itself bordered on both sides by non-existence, then is such an
ideal Christian? Is such an ideal Biblical—New Testamental? Or is this monastic
ideal, as its opponents have claimed, a distortion of authentic Christianity, a
slavery to mechanical "monkish" "works righteousness"?
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE DESERT
When our Lord
was about to begin his ministry, he went into the desert. Our Lord had
options but he selected—or rather, "was lead by the Spirit," into the desert. It
is obviously not a meaningless action, not a selection of type of place without
significance. And there—in the desert—our Lord engages in spiritual combat, for
he "fasted forty days and forty nights." The Gospel of St. Mark adds that
our Lord "was with the wild beasts." Our Lord, the God-Man, was truly God
and truly man. Exclusive of our Lord’s redemptive work, unique to our Lord
alone, he calls us to follow him. "Following" our Lord is not
exclusionary; it is not selecting certain psychologically pleasing aspects of
our Lord’s life and teachings to follow. Rather it is all-embracing. We are to
follow our Lord in every way possible. "To go into the desert" is "to follow"
our Lord. It is interesting that our Lord returns to the desert after the death
of St. John the Baptist. There is an obvious reason for this. "And hearing [of
John the Baptist’s death] Jesus departed from there in a ship to a desert
place privately" When St. Antony goes to the desert, he is "following" the
example of our Lord—indeed, he is "following" our Lord. This in no way
diminishes the unique, salvific work of our Lord, this in no way makes of our
Lord God, the God-Man, a mere example. But in addition to his redemptive work,
which could be accomplished only by our Lord, our Lord taught and set examples.
And by "following" our Lord into the desert, St. Antony was entering a terrain
already targeted and stamped by our Lord as a specific place for spiritual
warfare. There is both specificity and "type" in the "desert." In those
geographical regions where there a no deserts, there are places which are
similar to or approach that type of place symbolized by the "desert." It is that
type of place which allows the human heart solace, isolation. It is the type of
place which puts the human heart in a state of aloneness, a state in which to
meditate, to pray, to fast, to reflect upon one’s inner existence and one’s
relationship to ultimate reality—God. And more. It is a place where spiritual
reality is intensified, a place where spiritual life can intensify and
simultaneously where the opposing forces to spiritual life can become more
dominant. It is the terrain of a battlefield but a spiritual one. And it is our
Lord, not St. Antony, who as set precedent. Our Lord says that "as for what is
sown among thorns, this is he who hears the word, but the cares of the world and
the deceit of riches choke(s) the word, and it becomes unfruitful." The desert,
or a place similar, precisely cuts off the cares or anxieties of the world and
the deception, the deceit of earthly riches. It cuts one off precisely from
"this worldliness" and precisely as such it contains within itself a powerful
spiritual reason for existing within the spiritual paths of the Church. Not as
the only path, not as the path for everyone, but as one, fully authentic path of
Christian life.
THE GOSPEL OF ST. MATTHEW
In the
Gospel of St. Matthew (5:16) it is our Lord who uses the terminology of
"good works." " Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your
good works and may glorify your Father who is in heaven" Contextually
these "good works" are defined in the preceding text of the Beatitudes. "Blessed
are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." "Blessed are they who are
hungering and are thirsting for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."
".Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Is it not an integral
part of the monastic goal to become meek, to hunger and thirst for
righteousness, and to become pure in heart? This, of course, must be the goal of
all Christians but monasticism, which makes it an integral part of its ascetical
life, can in no way be excluded. Are not the Beatitudes more than just
rhetorical expressions? Are not the Beatitudes a part of the commandments of our
Lord? In the Gospel of St. Matthew (5:19) our Lord expresses a deeply
meaningful thought—rather a warning. "Whoever therefore breaks one of the least
of these commandments and teaches men so, he shall be called the least in the
kingdom of heaven. And it is in this context that our Lord continues to
deepen the meaning of the old law with a new, spiritual significance, a
penetrating interiorization of the "law." He does not nullify or abrogate the
law but rather extends it to its most logical and ontological limit, for he
drives the spiritual meaning of the law into the very depth of the inner
existence of mankind.
"You heard
that it was said to those of old ... but I say to you." Now, with the deepening
of the spiritual dimension of the law, the old remains, it is the base, but its
spiritual reality is pointed to its source. "You shall not kill" becomes
inextricably connected to "anger." "But I say to you that everyone being angry
with his brother shall be liable to the judgment." No longer is the external act
the only focal point. Rather the source, the intent, the motive is now to be
considered as the soil from which the external act springs forth. Mankind must
now guard, protect, control, and purify the inner emotion or attitude of "anger"
and, in so doing, consider it in the same light as the external act of killing
or murder. Our Lord has reached into the innermost depth of the human heart and
has targeted the source of the external act. "You shall not commit adultery. But
I say to you that everyone who is seeing a woman lustfully, has already
committed adultery with her in his heart. From a spiritual perspective the
person who does not act externally but lusts within is equally liable to the
reality of "adultery." "You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your
neighbor and you shall hate your enemy’. But I say to you: Love your enemies and
pray for those persecuting you so that you may become sons of your Father in
heaven."
THE INADEQUACY OF THE CRITIQUE BY ANDERS NYGREN
The Christian
idea of love is indeed something new. But it is not something so radically odd
that the human soul cannot understand it. It is not such a "transvaluation of
all ancient values," as Anders Nygren has claimed in his lengthy study Agape
and Eros. Although there are certain aspects of truth in some of Nygren’s
statements, his very premise is incorrect. Nygren reads back into the New
Testament and the early Church the basic position of Luther rather than dealing
with early Christian thought from within its own milieu. Such an approach bears
little ultimate fruit and often, as in the case of his position in Agape and
Eros, distorts the original sources with presuppositions that entered the
history of Christian thought 1500 years after our Lord altered the very nature
of humanity by entering human existence as God and Man. There is much in Luther
that is interesting, perceptive, and true. However, there is also much that does
not speak the same language as early Christianity. And herein lies the great
divide in the ecumenical dialogue. For the ecumenical dialogue to bear fruit,
the very controversies that separate the churches must not be hushed up. Rather
they must be brought into the open and discussed frankly, respectfully, and
thoroughly. There is much in Luther with which Eastern Orthodox theologians
especially can relate. Monasticism, however, is one area in which there is
profound disagreement. Even Luther at first did not reject monasticism. Luther’s
Reformation was the result of his understanding of the New Testament, an
understanding which Luther himself calls "new." His theological position had
already been formed before the issue of indulgences and his posting of his
Ninety-Five Theses. Nygren, loyal to Luther’s theological vision, has a
theological reason for his position in Agape and Eros. Nygren identifies
his interpretation of Agape with the monoenergistic concept of God, a concept of
God that would be correct in and of itself, for God is the source of everything.
But once we confront the mystery of creation, the mystery of that "other"
existence, that created existence which includes mankind, we face a totally
different situation. The existential and ontological meaning of man’s created
existence is precisely that God did not have to create, that it was a free act
of Divine freedom. But—and here is the great difficulty created by an unbalanced
Christianity on the doctrine of grace and freedom—in freely creating man God
willed to give man an inner spiritual freedom. In no sense is this a Pelagian or
Semi-Pelagian position. The balanced synergistic doctrine of the early and
Eastern Church, a doctrine misunderstood and undermined by Latin Christianity in
general from St. Augustine on—although there was always opposition to this in
the Latin Church—always understood that God initiates, accompanies, and
completes everything in the process of salvation. What it always rejected—both
spontaneously and intellectually—is the idea of irresistible grace, the idea
that man has no participating role in his salvation. Nygren identifies any
participation of man in his salvation, any movement of human will and soul
toward God, as a pagan distortion of Agape, as "Eros." And this
attitude, this theological perspective will in essence be the determining point
for the rejection of monasticism and other forms of asceticism and spirituality
so familiar to the Christian Church from its inception.
If Nygren’s
position on Agape is correct, then the words of our Lord, quoted above,
would have had no basis in the hearts of the listeners for understanding.
Moreover, our Lord, in using the verbal form of Agape—agapate—uses the
"old" commandment as the basis for the giving of the new, inner dimension of the
spiritual extension of that commandment of agape, of love. If Nygren is correct,
the "old" context of agape would have been meaningless, especially as the
foundation upon which our Lord builds the new spiritual and ontological
character of agape. Nygren’s point is that "the Commandment of Love" occurs in
the Old Testament and that it is "introduced in the Gospels, not as something
new, but as quotations from the Old Testament." He is both correct and wrong.
Correct in that it is a reference taken from the Old Testament. Where else was
our Lord to turn in addressing "his people"? He is wrong in claiming that it is
nothing but a quotation from the Old Testament, precisely because our Lord uses
the Old Testament reference as a basis upon which to build. Hence, the
foundation had to be secure else the building would have been flawed and the
teaching erroneous. Indeed, Nygren himself claims that "Agape can never be
‘self-evident’." In making such a claim, Nygren has undercut any possibility for
the hearers of our Lord to understand any discourse in which our Lord uses the
term "Agape." And yet Nygren writes that "it can be shown that the Agape motif
forms the principal theme of a whole series of Parables." What is meant by this
statement is that Nygren’s specific interpretation of Agape forms the principal
theme of a whole series of Parables. If this is the case, then those hearing the
parables could not have understood them, for they certainly did not comprehend
Agape in the specificity defined by Nygren, and hence the parables—according to
the inner logic of Nygren’s position—were meaningless to the contemporaries of
our Lord, to his hearers.
To be filled
by the love of and for God is the monastic ideal. In the Gospel of St.
Matthew (22:34-40) our Lord is asked which is the greatest commandment. "You
shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with
all your mind [understanding]. This the great and first commandment. And a
second is like it. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. In these two
commandments hang all the law and the prophets." The monastic and ascetic ideal
is to cultivate the love of the heart, the soul, and the mind for God. Anders
Nygreds commentary on this text in his Agape and Eros is characteristic
of his general position. "It has long been recognized that the idea of Agape
represents a distinctive and original feature of Christianity. But in what
precisely does its originality and distinctiveness consist? This question has
often been answered by reference to the Commandment of Love. The double
commandment, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all they heart’ and Thou
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, has been taken as the natural starting-point
for the exposition of the meaning of Christian love. Yet the fact is that if we
start with the commandment, with Agape as something demanded, we bar our own way
to the understanding of the idea of Agape. . . If the Commandment of Love can be
said to be specifically Christian, as undoubtedly it can, the reason is to be
found, not in the commandment as such, but in the quite new meaning that
Christianity has given it . . . To reach an understanding of the Christian idea
of love simply by reference to the Commandment of Love is therefore impossible;
to attempt it is to move in a circle. We could never discover the nature of
Agape, love in the Christian sense, if we had nothing to guide us but the double
command . . . It is not the commandment that explains the idea of Agape, but
insight into the Christian conception of Agape that enables us to grasp the
Christian meaning of the commandment, We must therefore seek another
starting-point" (pp. 61-63). This is indeed an odd position for one who comes
from the tradition of sola Scriptura, for the essence of his position is
not sola Scriptura but precisely that Scripture must be interpreted—and
here the interpretation comes not from within the matrix of early Christianity
but from afar, from an interpretation that to a great extent depends on an
interpretation of Christianity that came into the history of Christian thought
approximately 1500 years after the beginning of Christian teaching, and that is
with the assumption that Nygren is following the general position of Luther. In
his analysis of certain interpretations of what constitutes the uniqueness of
Christian love and in his rejection of these interpretations as that which
determines the uniqueness of Christian love Nygren is in part correct. "This, in
fact, is the root-fault of all the interpretations we have so far considered;
they fail to recognize that Christian love rests on a quite definite, positive
basis of its own. What, then, is this basis?" Nygren approaches the essence of
the issue but neglects the important aspect of human ontology, a human ontology
created by God. "The answer to this question may be found in the text. . . ‘Love
your enemies’. It is true that love for one’s enemies is at variance with our
immediate natural feelings, and may therefore seem to display the negative
character suggested above; but if we consider the motive underlying it we shall
see that it is entirely positive. The Christian is commanded to love his
enemies, not because the other side teaches hatred of them, but because there is
a basis and motive for such love in the concrete, positive fact of God’s own
love for evil men. ‘He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and the good’. That
is why we are told: ‘Love your enemies ... that ye may be children of your
Father which is in heaven’." What Nygren writes here is accurate. But it
neglects the significance of human ontology; that is, that we are commanded to
love our enemies because there is a spiritual value within the very fabric of
human nature created by God, even fallen nature, and that that spiritual value
is to be found in each and every man, however dimly we may perceive it. If we
begin to love our enemy, we will begin to perceive in that enemy
characteristics, aspects that were veiled, that were dimmed by the blindness of
our hatred. We are commanded to love our enemy not only because God loves
mankind, not only because God "maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good"
but God loves mankind because there is a value in mankind. Nygren writes (p.79)
that "the suggestion that man is by nature possessed of such an inalienable
value easily gives rise to the thought that it is this matchless value on which
God’s love is set." It is perhaps inaccurate to assert that Nygren misses the
central issue that that which is of value in man is God-created, God-given. It
is more accurate to assert that Nygren rejects completely the issue, and he does
so because of his theological doctrine of God and man. This again is part of
that great divide which separates certain churches within the ecumenical
dialogue. There is a basic and fundamental difference of vision on the nature of
God and man. One view claims its position is consistent with apostolic
Christianity, consistent with the apostolic deposit, and consistent with the
teaching and life of the early Church and of the Church in all ages. Another
view begins with the Reformation. Both views claim the support of the New
Testament. Luther’s writings on the Divine nature of love are not only
interesting but valuable, not only penetrating but in one emphasis
accurate. Indeed, if one considers Luther’s doctrine of Divine love by
itself, exclusive of his other doctrines, especially those on the nature of man,
the nature of salvation, the nature of justification, the doctrine of
predestination and grace, one encounters a view not dissimilar from that of
ancient Orthodox Christianity. At times Luther can even appear to be somewhat
mystically inclined. Luther’s well known description of Christian love as
"eine quellende Liebe" [a welling or ever-flowing love] is by itself an
Orthodox view. For Luther, as for the Fathers of the Church, this love has no
need of anything, it is not caused, it does not come into existence because of a
desired object, it is not aroused by desirable qualities of an object. It is the
nature of God. But, at the same time, it is God who created mankind and hence
the love of God for mankind, though in need of nothing and attracted by nothing,
loves mankind not because of a value in man but because there is value in man
because man is created by God. Herein lies the difference and it is indeed a
great divide when one considers the differing views on the other subjects
closely related to the nature of Divine love.
PERFECTION, ALMSGIVING, PRAYER, FASTING, AND CHASTITY
In monastic
and ascetical literature from the earliest Christian times the word and idea of
"perfect" are often confronted. The monk seeks perfection, the monk wants to
begin to become established on the path that may lead to perfection. But is this
the result of monasticism? Is it the monastic and ascetical tendencies in early
Christianity which bring forth the idea of perfection, which bring forth the
idea of spiritual struggle and striving? It is our Lord, not the monks, who
injects the goal of perfection into the very fabric of early Christian thought.
In the Gospel of St. Matthew (5:48) our Lord commands: "Be ye therefore
perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"
Traditional
monastic and ascetical life has included among its activities almsgiving,
prayer, and fasting. Were these practices imposed upon an authentic Christianity
by monasticism or were they incorporated into monastic and ascetical life from
original Christianity? In the Gospel of St. Matthew it is once again our
Lord and Redeemer who has initiated almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. Our Lord
could very easily have abolished such practices. But rather than abolish them,
our Lord purifies them, gives them their correct status within the spiritual
life which is to do them but to attach no show, no hypocrisy, no glory to
the doing of them. It is proper spiritual perspective that our Lord
commands. "Take heed that you do not your righteousness before men in order to
be seen by them; for then you will have no reward with your Father in heaven"
(6:1). Therefore, when you do alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the
hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be glorified
by men. Truly, I say to you, they have their reward. But when you are doing
alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your
alms may be in secret; and your Father who is seeing in secret will reward you"
(6:2-4). And prayer is commanded to be done in a similar manner to ensure its
spiritual nature. At this juncture our Lord instructs his followers to use the
"Lord’s Prayer," a prayer that is so simple yet so profound, a prayer that
contains within it the glorification of the name of God, a prayer that contains
within it the invoking of the coming of the kingdom of God, a prayer that
acknowledges that the will of God initiates everything and that without the will
of God man is lost. It is a prayer of humility in that it asks for nothing
beyond daily sustenance. It is a prayer of human solidarity in forgiveness, for
it asks God to forgive us only as we forgive others, and in this a profound
reality of spiritual life is portrayed, a life that unites man with God only as
man is also united with other persons, with mankind, in forgiveness. And then
there is the prayer to be protected from temptation and, if one falls into
temptation, the prayer to be delivered from it. So short, so simple, yet so
profound both personally and cosmically. Is monasticism a distortion of
authentic Christianity because the monks recite the Lord’s Prayer at the
instruction of and command of our Lord? If monasticism used free, spontaneous
prayer, then it could be faulted for not having "followed" our Lord’s command.
But that is not the case. Is monasticism a deviation because of the frequent use
of the Lord’s Prayer? Our Lord was specific: when praying, pray this. It does
not preclude other prayers but prominence and priority is to be given to the
Lord’s Prayer. Indeed, it is certainly foreign to our Lord to restrict the
frequency of prayer. The "vain repetitions," or more accurately in the Greek,
the prohibition of "do not utter empty words as the gentiles, for they think
that in their much speaking they will be heard." This is in essence different
than our Lord’s intention. And our Lord says more on this subject, a subject
considered of importance to him. In the Gospel of St. Matthew (9:15) our
Lord makes the point that when he is taken way, then his disciples will fast. In
the Gospel of St. Matthew (17:21) our Lord explains to his disciples that
they were unable to cast out the devil because" this kind goes out only by
prayer and fasting." This verse, it is true, is not in all the ancient
manuscripts. It is, however, in sufficient ancient manuscripts and, moreover, it
is contained in the Gospel of St. Mark (9:29). It is obvious that our
Lord assigns a special spiritual efficacy to prayer and fasting.
Chastity is a
monastic and ascetic goal. Not only an external celibacy but an inner chastity
of thought. Is this too something imposed upon authentic, original Christianity
by a Hellenistic type of thinking or is it contained within the original deposit
of apostolic and Biblical Christianity? Again it is our Lord who lays down the
path of celibacy and chastity. In the Gospel of St. Matthew (19:10-12)
the disciples ask our Lord whether it is expedient to marry. "Not all men can
receive this saying but those to whom it has been given. For there are eunuchs
who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by
men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the
kingdom of heaven. He who is able to grasp it, let him grasp it." The monastic
and ascetical goal merely "follows" the teaching of our Lord. Original
Christianity never imposed celibacy. It was, precisely as our Lord has stated,
only for those to whom it was given, only to those who might be able to accept
such a path. But the path was an authentically Christian path of spirituality
laid down by our Lord. In early Christianity not even priests and bishops were
required to be celibate. It was a matter of choice. Later the Church thought it
wise to require celibacy of the bishops. But in Eastern Christianity celibacy
has never been required of one becoming a priest. The choice to marry or to
remain celibate had to be made before ordination. If one married before
ordination, then one was required to remain married, albeit the ancient Church
witnessed exceptions to this. If one was not married when one was ordained, then
one was required to remain celibate. The Roman Church, not the Eastern Orthodox
Church, extended the requirement of celibacy to priests and had a very difficult
time attempting to enforce it throughout the ages. One can never force forms of
spirituality upon a person and expect a spiritually fruitful result. The words
of our Lord resound with wisdom—to those to whom it is given, to those who can
live in this form of spirituality.
POVERTY AND HUMILITY
Poverty is
not the goal but the beginning point of monastic and ascetical life in early
Christianity. Was this a precedent established by St. Antony, a new notion and
movement never before contained within Christian thought? Again it is our Lord
who establishes the spiritual value of poverty. In the Gospel of St. Matthew
(19:21) our Lord commands the rich man who has claimed he has kept all the
commandments: "If you will to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to
the poor ... and come follow me." It was not St. Antony who established the
precedent. Rather it was St. Antony who heard the word of our Lord and put it
into action, who "did the word of the Lord." It is Christ, the God-Man who has
put forth the ideal of perfection, who has commanded us to be perfect (see also
5:48), who has put forth the ideal of poverty as a starting-point for a certain
form of spiritual life. Elsewhere in the Gospel of St. Matthew (13:44)
Christ makes a similar point, asserting that one sells everything in exchange
for the kingdom of heaven. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a
field, which a man found and covered up; then in his joy he goes and sells all
that he has and buys that field."
All
Christianity exalts humility. It should therefore not be a surprise if monastic
and ascetical spirituality focus on humility. In the Gospel of St. Matthew
(18:4) our Lord proclaims that "he who therefore will humble himself as this
little child, he is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." Elsewhere (23:12) our
Lord says that "whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles
himself will be exalted." The emphasis on humility may appear self-evident.
Behind it, however, lies a reality of the nature of God to which few pay much
attention. In the Incarnation two very core elements of any spirituality are
clearly evidenced—the love and humility of God. The idea that humility is rooted
in God may appear astonishing. The humility of God cannot, of course, be
considered in the same light as ascetical humility, or any human form of
humility. However, the human forms of humility are derived from the very nature
of God, just as the commandment to love is rooted in God’s love for mankind
God’s humility is precisely that being God he desires, he wills to be in
communion with everything and everything is inferior to God. This has great
theological significance, for it reveals the value of all created things, a
value willed by God. There is even a parallel here with the saints who loved
animals and flowers. And from this idea, an idea intrinsically derived from the
Incarnation and kenosis of God the Son, one can clearly see the real
Divine origin in action of Christ’s teaching about "others." In the very notion
of a vertical spirituality a concern for others is presupposed. And while one is
ascending to God—an abomination for Nygren—his fellow man must be included in
the dimensions of spirituality. Through the Incarnation all forms of human
existence are sanctified. Through the Incarnation both the love and the humility
of God are made known. And man is to love God and fellow mankind because love
contains absolute, positive value, a value derived because love is the very
nature of God. And man is to experience humility, to become inflamed by humility
precisely because humility belongs also to God and hence its value is derived
from God. But to become filled innerly with love and humility is not easy. It
demands not a mere acknowledgement of the fact that God is love and humility is
Divine. Rather, it demands the complete purification of our inner nature by God.
And this is the struggle, the spiritual warfare that must be waged to enter and
maintain the reality of love and humility. The path of monasticism and
asceticism is an authentic path, a path also ordained by our Lord.
THE WRITINGS BY ST. PAUL AND THE
INTERPRETATION OF THE
REFORMATION
The writings
by or attributed to St. Paul form a critical point in the entire great divide
between the churches of the Reformation and the Orthodox and Roman Catholic
Church. The Epistle to the Romans is one of the most important references
of this controversy. This epistle and the Epistle to the Galatians formed
the base from which Luther developed his doctrine faith and justification, a
doctrine that he himself characterized in his preface to his Latin writings as a
totally new understanding of Scripture. These two works continue to be the main
reference points for contemporary theologians from the tradition of the
Reformation. It was this new understanding of the Scriptures that the
rejection of monasticism obtained in the Reformation In general it is not an
exaggeration to claim that this thought considers St. Paul as the only one who
understood the Christian message. Moreover, it is not St. Paul by himself nor
St. Paul from the entire corpus of his works, but rather Luther’s understanding
of St. Paul. >From this perspective the authentic interpreters of our Lord’s
teaching and redemptive work are St. Paul, as understood by Luther, then
Marcion, then St. Augustine, and then Luther. Marcion was condemned by the
entire early Church. St. Augustine indeed does anticipate Luther in certain
views but not at all on the doctrine of justification and Luther’s specific
understanding of faith. It is more St. Augustine’s doctrine of predestination,
irresistible grace, and his doctrine of the total depravity of man contained in
his "novel" to quote St. Vincent of Lerins—doctrine of original sin that
influenced Luther, who himself was an Augustinian monk.
The rejection
of monasticism ultimately followed from the emphasis placed upon salvation as a
free gift of God. Such a position is completely accurate but its specific
understanding was entirely contrary to that of the early Church. That salvation
was the free gift of God and that man was justified by faith was never a problem
for early Christianity. But from Luther’s perspective and emphasis any type of
"works," especially that of the monks in their ascetical struggle, was
considered to contradict the free nature of grace and the free gift of
salvation. If one was indeed justified by faith, then—so went the line of
Luther’s thought—man is not justified by "works." For Luther "justification by
faith" meant an extrinsic justification, a justification totally independent
from any inner change within the depths of the spiritual life of a person. For
Luther "to justify"—dikaion—meant to declare one righteous or just, not
"to make" righteous or just*—it is an appeal to an extrinsic justice which in
reality is a spiritual fiction. Luther has created a legalism far more serious
than the legalism he detected in the Roman Catholic thought and practice of his
time. Morever, Luther’s legalistic doctrine of extrinsic justification is
spiritually serious, for it is a legal transaction which in reality does not and
can not exist. Nowhere was the emphasis on "works" so strong, thought Luther, as
in monasticism. Hence, monasticism had to be rejected and rejected it was. But
Luther read too much into St. Paul’s emphasis on faith, on justification by
faith, and on the free gift of the grace of salvation. St. Paul is directly in
controversy with Judaism, especially in his Epistle to the Romans. It is
the "works of the law," the law as defined by and interpreted by and practiced
by Judaism in the time of St. Paul. Our Lord has the same reaction to the
externalization and mechanical understanding of the "law." Indeed, the very text
of the Epistle to the Romans revels in every passage that St. Paul is
comparing the external law of Judaism with the newness of the spiritual
understanding of law, with the newness of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ
through the Incarnation, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord. God has become
Man. God has entered human history and indeed the newness is radical. But to
misunderstand St. Paul’s critique of "works," to think that St. Paul is speaking
of the "works" commanded by our Lord rather than the Judaic understanding of the
works of the "law" is a misreading of a fundamental nature. It is true, however,
that Luther had a point in considering the specific direction in which the Roman
Catholic merit-system had gone as a reference point similar to the Judaic legal
system. As a result of Luther’s background, as a result of his theological
milieu, whenever he read anything in St. Paul about "works," he immediately
thought of his own experience as a monk and the system of merit and indulgences
in which he had been raised.
It must be
strongly emphasized that Luther does indeed protect one aspect of salvation, the
very cause and source of redemption and grace. But he neglects the other side,
the aspect of man’s participation in this free gift of Divine initiative and
grace. Luther fears any resurgence of the Roman Catholic system of merit and
indulgences, he fears any tendency which will constitute a truly Pelagian
attitude, any tendency that will allow man to believe that man is the cause, the
source, or the main spring of salvation. And here Luther is correct. Nygren’s
Agape-Eros distinction is correct in this context, for any spirituality that
omits Agape and concentrates only on Eros, on man’s striving to win God’s
influence, is fundamentally non-Christian. But the issue is not that simple.
Both extremes are false. God has freely willed a synergistic
path-of-redemption in which man must spiritually participate. God is the actor,
the cause, the initiator, the one who completes all redemptive activity. But man
is the one who must spiritually respond to the free gift of grace. And in this
response there is an authentic place for the spiritually of monasticism and
asceticism, one which has absolutely nothing to do his the "works of the law,"
or with the system of merit and indulgences.
ROMANS
In his
Epistle to the Romans St. Paul writes in the very introduction (1:4-5)
that through Jesus Christ "we have received grace and apostleship to bring about
the obedience of faith for the sake of his name." The notion of "obedience of
faith" has a meaning for St. Paul. It is much more than a simple acknowledgement
or recognition of a faith placed within one by God. Rather, it is a richly
spiritual notion, one that contains within it a full spirituality of activity on
the part of man—not that the activity will win the grace of God but precisely
that the spiritual activity is the response to the grace of God, performed with
the grace of God, in order to be filled by the grace of God. And it will be an
on-going spiritual "work," one which can never be slackened, and one totally
foreign from the works" of the Judaic law.
St. Paul
writes (2:6) that God "will render to each according to his works." If St. Paul
was so concerned about the word "works," if he feared that the Christian readers
of his letter might interpret "works" in some totally different way from what he
intended, he certainly could have been more cautious. But St. Paul clearly
distinguishes between the "works" of the Judaic law and the "works" of the Holy
Spirit required of all Christians. Hence, it is difficult to confuse these two
perspectives and it is significant that the early Church never confused them,
for they understood what St. Paul wrote. If anything—despite the lucidity of St.
Paul’s thought—there were tendencies at times to fall not into Luther’s
one-sided interpretation but rather to fall somewhat spontaneously into an
Eros-type of striving.
It is the
"doers of the law" who will be justified" (2:13). The notion of "doers" implies
action, activity. Elsewhere in the same epistle (5:2) St. Paul writes that
through our Lord Jesus Christ "we have had access [by faith] into this grace in
which we stand." The very idea of "access into grace" is dynamic and implies
spiritual activity on the part of mankind.
After the
lengthy proclamation of the grace of God, the impotence of the "works of the
law" in comparison with the "works" of the new reality of the Spirit, St. Paul
resorts to the traditional spiritual exhortation (6:12f). "Let not sin therefore
reign in your mortal body in order to obey its lusts. Nor yield your members to
sin as weapons of unrighteousness." The exhortation presupposes that man has
some type of spiritual activity and control over his inner existence. The very
use of the word "weapon" invokes the idea of battle, of spiritual warfare, the
very nature of the monastic "ordeal."
In the same
chapter (6:17) St. Paul writes: "But grace to God that you who were slaves of
sin obeyed out of the heart a form of teaching which was delivered to you." In
the second chapter of the Epistle to the Romans (2:15) St. Paul writes
about the universal aspect of the "law" that is "written in the hearts" of
mankind, a thought with profound theological implications. In using the image of
the heart St. Paul is emphasizing the deepest aspect of the interior life of
mankind, for such was the use of the image of the "heart" among Hebrews. When he
writes that they obeyed "out of the heart," St. Paul is attributing some type of
spiritual activity to the "obedience" which springs from the "heart." And to
what have they become obedient? To a form or standard of teaching or doctrine
delivered to them—this is precisely the apostolic deposit, the body of
early Christian teaching to which they have responded and have become obedient.
And in so doing, they have become "enslaved to righteousness," the righteousness
of the new law, of the life of the Spirit (6:18). And the "fruit" of becoming
enslaved to God" is precisely sanctification which leads to life eternal (6:22).
Throughout is a process, throughout is a dynamic spiritual activity on the part
of man. St. Paul becomes more explicit about the distinction between the old and
the new law (7:6). "But now we are discharged from the law, having died in that
which held us captive, so as to serve in newness of spirit and not in oldness of
letter."
St. Paul
writes that we "are children of God, and if children, also heirs, heirs on the
one hand of God, co-heirs on the other hand, of Christ" (8:17). But all this has
a condition, has a proviso, for there is the all important "if indeed." "If
we co-suffer in order that we may be glorified." Our glorification,
according to St. Paul, is contingent upon a mighty "if" and that "if" leads us
to the spiritual reality, the spiritual reality ‘of "co- suffering." The very
use of the word "co-suffer" presupposes the reality of the idea of "cosuffering"
and both presuppose an active, dynamic spiritual action or activity on the part
of the one who co-suffers, else there is no meaning to the "co."
In the
Epistle to the Romans (12:1) St. Paul uses language that would be
meaningless if man were merely a passive object in the redemptive process, if
justification by faith was an action that took place only on the Divine level.
"I appeal to you therefore, brethren, through the compassions of God, to present
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and well-pleasing to God, which is your
reasonable service." St. Paul is asking the Christian to present, a
reality which presupposes and requires human activity. But not only "to present"
but "to present" the body as a living sacrifice, as holy, and as acceptable or
well-pleasing to God. And this St. Paul considers our "reasonable service" or
our "spiritual worship." The language and the idea speak for themselves. Using
the imperative, St. Paul commands us: "Be not conformed to this age but be
transformed by the renewing of the mind in order to prove [that you may prove]
what [is] that good and well-pleasing and perfect will of God." Taken by itself
and out of context this language could be misinterpreted as Pelagian, for here
it is man who is transforming the mind, man who is commanded to activate the
spiritual life. Such an interpretation is, of course, incorrect but it reveals
what one can do to the totality of the theological thought of St. Paul if one
does not understand the balance, if one does not understand that his view is
profoundly synergistic. Synergism does not mean that two energies are equal.
Rather it means that there are two wills—one, the will of God which precedes,
accompanies, and completes all that is good, positive, spiritual and redemptive,
one that has willed that man have a spiritual will, a spiritual participation in
the redemptive process; the other is the will of man which must respond,
cooperate, "co-suffer." In 12:9 St. Paul exhorts us to "cleave to the good." And
in 12:12 he exhorts us "to be steadfastly continuing in prayer." Such a position
certainly does not exclude monastic and ascetical spirituality but rather
presupposes it.
I AND II CORINTHIANS
Celibacy is a
part of the monastic life and it too has its source in the teachings of the New
Testament. In I Corinthians 7: 1-11 St. Paul encourages both
marriage and celibacy—both are forms of Christian spirituality, and St. Paul has
much to say about marriage in his other epistles. But his point is that celibacy
is a form of spirituality for some, and it therefore cannot be excluded from the
forms of spirituality within the Church. In verse 7 St. Paul writes that he
would like all to be like him. But he realizes that each person has his own gift
from God. "I say therefore to the unmarried men and to the widows, it is good
for them if they remain as I. But if they do not exercise self-control, let them
marry" (verses 37-38). St. Paul summarizes: "the one who has decided in
his own heart to keep himself virgin, he will do well. So, therefore, both the
one marrying his betrothed [virgin], does well, and the one not marrying will do
better." The monastic practice of celibacy is precisely not excluded by
the New Testament. Rather, it is even encouraged both by our Lord and by St
Paul—and without jeopardy to the married state. The decision cannot be forced.
Rather, it must come from the heart. And, indeed, it is not for everyone.
The
comparison of the spiritual life to that of running a race and to that of
warfare is throughout the New Testament. Without diminishing his basis of
theological vision—that it is God who initiates everything—St. Paul writes in
I Corinthians 9:24-27 in a manner, which, if taken by itself,
would indeed appear Pelagian, would indeed appear as though all the essence of
salvation depends upon man. But in the total context of his theology there is no
contradiction, for there are always two wills in redemption—the Divine, which
initiates; and the human, which responds and is, in the very response has
received. "Do you not know that the ones running in a race all run indeed. But
one receives the prize? So run in order that you may obtain. And everyone
struggling exercises self-control in all things. Indeed, those do so therefore
in order that they may receives a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible
one. I, therefore, so run as not unclearly. Thus I box not as one beating the
air. But I treat severely my body and lead it as a slave, lest having proclaimed
to others, I myself may become disqualified." In this text we encounter the
race—the spiritual race—and the prize; we encounter the grammatical and the
thought structure of "in order that you may obtain," a structure which implies
contingency and not certainty. We encounter the race as a spiritual struggle in
which "self-control in everything" must be exercised. And then St. Paul
describes his own spiritual battle—he treats his body severely, leads it as
though it were a slave, and to what end? So that he will not become disapproved.
The entire passage is very monastic and ascetic in its content. Despite St.
Paul’s certainty of the objective reality of redemption which has come through
Christ as a Divine gift, he does not consider his own spiritual destiny to be
included in that objective redemption which is now here unless he participates
in it—and until the end of the race. In 10:12 he warns us: "Let the one who
thinks he stands, let him look lest he falls." In 11: 28 he writes: "Let a man
prove or examine himself. . ." In the latter context the proving" or "examining"
is in the most serious of contexts, for it is spoken in connection with the Holy
Eucharist, which is spoken of so objectively that if one "eats this bread" or
"drinks this cup of the Lord" "unworthily," that person "shall be guilty of the
body and blood of the Lord" and shall "bring damnation to himself"—for that
reason, continues St. Paul, some are weak, sickly, and some have died. But our
focus here is on self-examination, on those who think they stand. This again is
an integral aspect of the monastic and ascetical life; that is, a constant
examination of one’s spiritual life In II Corinthians 13:5 St. Paul again
stresses self-examination: "Examine yourselves, if you are in the faith. Prove
yourselves."
In 15:1-2 St.
Paul introduces a significant "if’ and "also." "I make known to you, brothers,
the Gospel which I preached to you, which you also received, in which you
also stand, through which you also are saved, if you hold fast to that which I
preached to you."
In I
Corinthians 14:15 St. Paul speaks of praying with both spirit and mind, a
thought that weaves its way through monastic and ascetical literature. The use
of the mind in prayer finds its fullest expression in the controversial use of
the "mind" in the thought of Evagrius Ponticus. The text, even within its
general context in the chapter, is clear. "I will pray with the spirit, and I
will pray also with the mind; I will sing with the spirit, and I will also sing
with the mind."
St. Paul’s
hymn to love, to Agape, fills the entirety of I Corinthians 13. Despite
later interpretations of the use of the word "faith" in this chapter,
specifically the interpretations that entered Christian thought with the
Reformation, there was no misunderstanding of this "hymn to love" in the early
Church indeed, in the history of Christian thought until the Reformation it was
understand quite directly. It is only through a convoluted exegetical method
imposed by a specific—and new—theological understanding that this great "hymn to
love" had to be understood by distinguishing different meanings attached to the
word "faith." Though one speaks with the tongues of men and of angels, though
one has the gift of prophecy, though one understands all mysteries, though one
understands all knowledge, though one has all faith "to remove mountains,"
though one bestows all one’s goods to feed the poor, though one gives one’s body
to be burned—though one has all this, but not love, one is "nothing," one
"becomes as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal," one "profits" not at all. St.
Paul is quite explicit on what love is. "Love suffers long, love is kind, love
is not jealous, does not vaunt itself, is not puffed up, does not act unseemly,
does not seek its own things, is not provoked, does not reckon evil, does not
rejoice over wrong, but rejoices with the truth. Love covers all things,
believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never falls. But
prophecies—they will be abolished; tongues—they will cease; knowledge—it will be
abolished... And now remains faith, hope, love, these three. But the greatest of
these is love." The goal of monastic and ascetical struggle, of the "ordeal," is
love—to love God, to love mankind, to love all created things, to be penetrated
by God’s love, to participate in love, which is God and flows from God, and to
enter a union with God, with love. Often monastic literature will speak of
"achieving" this love, as though it is the work of man. But that it not the
total context of love in monastic literature, not even in those texts which
appear as though everything were nothing but a striving on the part of man in
the "ordeal." This language is spoken because it is spontaneous with spiritual
nature. This language is spoken because it runs parallel with that assumed
knowledge—that God is the source of everything. And yet St. Paul himself often
uses language which could come directly from monastic statements. True, both
would be taken out of their total context, but it is true that the two languages
are spoken—the language referring to God as the source, as the initiator, to the
grace of God, to the gift of all spirituality; and the language which
concentrates on man’s activity, on man’s response to the love and redemptive
work of God in Jesus Christ and through the Holy Spirit. When one line of
thought is being used, it in no way denies the other line of thought. Rather, it
is precisely the opposite, for monastic and ascetical literature can only speak
about man’s activity if it is presupposed that God has accomplished the
redemptive activity in and through our Lord, that God is working in man through
the Holy Spirit. Else, all that is written is without meaning, temporarily and
ultimately. St. Paul’s command in I Corinthians 14:1 to "pursue love and
eagerly desire the spiritual things" is responded to directly by monastic and
ascetical spirituality.
In II
Corinthians 2:9 St. Paul writes in the very same spirit that an abbot might
employ with his novices: "For to this end indeed I wrote—in order that I might
know your proof, if you are obedient in all things." Obedience is an important
theme and reality in the monastic and ascetic "ordeal" and that very theme of
obedience is mentioned often throughout the New Testament.
Monastic and
ascetical literature will often use the terms "fragrance" and "aroma" and again
the source is the New Testament. In II Corinthians 2:14-15 St. Paul
writes: "manifesting among us the fragrance of his knowledge in every place. For
we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among
those perishing, to the latter an aroma from death unto death, to the former an
aroma from life unto life."
In II
Corinthians 3:18 St. Paul uses an expression which is often found in
ascetical literature— "from glory to glory." "But we all, with face having been
unveiled, beholding in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being changed into
the same icon from glory to glory, even as from the Spirit of the Lord." The
Greek verbal structure throughout the New Testament cannot be stressed enough,
for it conveys a dynamic activity that is seldom found in other languages and in
translations. In this text the emphasis is on the process of "we are being
changed." Elsewhere emphasis is often on "we are being saved"—rather than "we
are changed" and "we are saved." When the objective nature of redemption is the
focus, then the Greek verbal structure uses "we are saved." But mainly, when the
process is the focus, the dynamism is expressed by the verbal structure of "we
are being saved." In this text it is significant that the objective nature is
expressed by "having been unveiled," while the on-going process of our
participation in the spiritual process of salvation is expressed by "we are
being changed." Here is expressed the dynamism of synergy.
In II
Corinthians 4:16 St. Paul again emphasizes the dynamism and process of
the spiritual reality in man. "Our inner [life] is being renewed day by day."
The monastic life attempts to respond to such a text by the daily regulation of
prayer, meditation, self-examination, and worship—precisely to attempt to
"renew" daily "our inner" spiritual life. In 10:15 the dynamic aspect of growth
is stressed and precisely in reference to "faith" and "rule." "But having hope
as your faith is growing to be magnified unto abundance among you according to
our rule." In 4:12 St. Paul again places the inner depth of man’s spiritual life
in the "heart," something which Eastern monasticism will develop even in its
life of prayer.
The entire
fifth chapter of II Corinthians is an exceptionally important text. Here,
as elsewhere, St. Paul uses language which, when used by others, distresses
sorely many scholars working from the Reformation perspective—he uses the notion
of "pleasing God," something which some scholars find indicative of man’s
solicitation to "win" God’s favor. But when St. Paul uses such language it
passes in silence, it passes without objection—precisely because St. Paul has
established his position that God is the source of everything. But monastic and
ascetical literature also presuppose that God initiates and is the source of
everything. But it is in the very nature of daily spiritual life in monasticism
and in ascetical spirituality to focus on man’s activity. It is precisely focus,
not a theological position. "We therefore are ambitious [to make it our goal],
whether being at home or being away from home, to be well-pleasing to
him. For it is necessary for all of us to be manifested before the tribunal of
Christ in order that each one may receive something good or something worthless,
according to what one has practiced through the body. Knowing, therefore,
the fear of the Lord, we persuade men." In II Corinthians 11: 15 St. Paul
writes that one’s "end will be according to [one’s] works." Also this is not the
only time that the New Testament uses the word "practice," a word which becomes
systematized in monasticism. After a profound exposition on the initiative of
God in the redemptive work of Christ (5:14-20), in which St. Paul writes that
"all things are of God, who, having reconciled us to himself through Christ."
St. Paul writes in verse 21: "Be reconciled to God." Moreover, he not only uses
the imperative form but also precedes this with "we beg on behalf of Christ."
His language here becomes meaningless unless there is spiritual activity on the
part of man. And what is more, St. Paul uses a very interesting structure in
relationship to the "righteousness of God," for he writes that the redemptive
work of Christ was accomplished "in order that we might become the righteousness
of God in him." Here the significance is on "we might become" rather than "we
are" or "we have become." Implicit is a synergistic dynamism. This is further
stressed in 6:1: "And working together [with him] we entreat you not to receive
the grace of God to no purpose." And St. Paul then quotes from Isaiah 49:8 in
which it is said that God "hears" and "helps."
In II
Corinthians 6:4-10 St. Paul writes what could be a guide to monastic
spiritual life. "In everything commending ourselves as ministers of God—in much
endurance, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in
prisons, in tumults, in labors, in vigils, in fasting, in purity, in knowledge,
in longsuffering, in kindness, in a holy spirit, in unfeigned love, in a word of
truth, in power of God—through the weapons of righteousness on the right and
left hand, through glory and dishonor, through evil report and good report ...
as dying, and behold, we live ... as being grieved but always rejoicing, as poor
but enrichening [sic] many, as having nothing yet possessing all things."
The vigils, the fasting, the purity, the gnosis or knowledge—these are to
be reflected in monastic and ascetical life. Moreover, St. Paul again uses the
image of warfare and refers to the "weapons of righteousness." The language used
by St. Paul in this passage can only have significance if man participates
synergistically in the redemptive process. If the doctrine of "righteousness" in
the thought of St. Paul has only a one-sided meaning—that is, the "righteousness
of God," which is, of course, the source of all righteousness—then why the talk
of "weapons of righteousness" placed in the very hands, both right and left, of
man? If man is solely "reckoned righteous" by the "vicarious sacrifice" of our
Lord Jesus Christ, why the need to speak of "weapons of righteousness," unless
there is a second aspect of the redemptive process which ontologically includes
man’s spiritual participation? In II Corinthians 10:3-6 St. Paul
continues with the reference to it warfare" and again stresses "obedience." "For
though walking in the flesh, we wage war not according to the flesh, for the
weapons of our warfare are not fleshly but [have] the power of God to overthrow
strongholds, overthrowing reasonings and every high thing rising up against the
knowledge of God and taking captive every design unto the obedience of
Christ."
St. Paul
writes in II Corinthians 7:1 about cleansing, about it perfecting
holiness," and about the "fear of God." After referring to our having "these
promises," he exhorts: "Let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh
and of spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." This exhortation
is precisely what monastic and ascetical life attempts to implement. In 13:9 St.
Paul writes: "We pray also for you restoration." In order for one
to be "restored," one would have to have been at a certain level previously. The
text bears witness to the dynamic nature of faith, of spiritual life in Christ,
of the rising and falling away, and then the restoration.
In II
Corinthians 7:10 St. Paul speaks in terms quite similar to those found in
monastic and ascetical literature, for he speaks of "grief" which works
"repentance" which leads to "salvation." "For grief, in accordance with God,
works repentance unto unregrettable salvation." St. Paul contrasts this "Godly
grief" with the "grief of the world which works out death." The theme "sorrow"
and "grief" over one’s sin—precisely "grief in accordance with God" or "Godly
grief"—is a constant in monastic spiritual life.
St. Paul ends
the text proper of II Corinthians with a final exhortation. "Restore
yourselves, admonish yourselves, think the same, become at peace, and the God of
love and of peace will be with you." Here the emphasis is again on
"restoration." St. Paul’s sequence of language—if taken by itself and out of
context—could be easily misinterpreted as man causing God’s action, for he
writes "become at peace and." It is precisely that "and" that
introduces the activity of God. God "will be with you," if you achieve
peace—this is how this text could well be interpreted if we did not the possess
the body of St. Paul’s works. What could have happened to the thought of St.
Paul is what usually happens to the thought expressed in monastic and ascetical
literature.
GALATIANS
Along with
the Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians is
the other work from the corpus of St. Paul most often quoted by the theologians
of the Lutheran and Calvinistic Reformation and those theologians who have
followed in those theological traditions. They were also the two works most
quoted by St. Augustine to support his doctrine of irresistible grace and
predestination. But one encounters the same problem in Galatians that is, that
there is a second line of thought which, by itself, could be interpreted in a
Pelagian sense. The point here is, of course, that both views are one-sided,
that the thought of St. Paul is far richer than any one-sided interpretation
allows for, far more realistic both with the glory of God and with the tragedy
of man’s experience in evil, corruption, and death. But St. Paul not only extols
the glory of God, the power and initiative of grace but also the joyfulness of
an objective redemption in which each person must participate in order for the
redemption of man to be completed.
In the first
chapter of Galatians St. Paul in verse 10 uses language which implies the
seeking of favor with God. "For now do I persuade men or God? Or do I seek to
please men?". At one point, in Galatians 4:9, St. Paul catches himself falling
into the very understandable usage of human language: "But now knowing God, or
rather, being known by God." Imprecision of language occurs even with St.
Paul.
The second
chapter of Galatians provides an illumination of the central controversial issue
in the theology of St. Paul. In context St. Paul is addressing the hypocrisy of
St. Peter in Antioch, for St. Peter ate with the Gentiles until those from the
"circumcision" party arrived from Jerusalem. At that time St. Peter withdrew
from the Gentiles, "fearing those of the circumcision." St. Paul challenges St.
Peter face to face. Again the whole controversy is between the "works of the
law" and the "works of the Spirit," between the laws of Judaism and the
spiritual laws of Christ as a direct result of his Divine redemptive work. It
is, therefore, in this context that St. Paul brings the doctrine of
justification into discussion. In verse 16 St. Paul writes: "And knowing that a
man is not justified out of works of the law but through faith of Christ Jesus,
even we believed in Christ Jesus in order that we might be justified out of
faith of Christ and not out of the works of the law because out of works of the
law all flesh will not be justified." In the Greek construction used by St. Paul
a dynamism still exists, for we believed "in order that we might be justified"
and "out of faith." This latter expression contains breadth, expansion of
spiritual life generating from faith. It is a rich expression and its fulness
and dynamism must not be diminished by a reductionist interpretation. And the
very use of "in order" has implications theologically, as does the construction
"that we might be justified." St. Paul could very well have written that we have
believed and are hence justified. But that is not what he has written. The
objective reality of redemption, the objective reality of mankind being
justified by Christ is one thing. The subjective reality of each person
participating in this already accomplished redemptive work of justification, of
being really "right" with God is another dimension, a dimension which requires
and addresses the entire spiritual composition of man. In the very next text St.
Paul writes "if seeking to be justified in Christ." In 5:5 he can write "for we
in the Spirit eagerly expect the hope of righteousness." What is the ontological
meaning of "the hope of righteousness" if "righteousness" is "imputed" to us as
though a legal transaction, and if it is the "passive righteousness" of God
which "justifies" us? No, St. Paul’s vision is far deeper. The "hope of
righteousness" is precisely our hope to share in that objective "righteousness
of God" which is now freely given by God in and through Christ. But we "hope"
because there is "work" for us to do in order to take hold of and participate in
that righteousness eternally. God creates in his freedom. God created man with
this image of freedom. Christ accepts the Cross in freedom. Freedom is the
foundation of creation and redemption. And man’s freedom, however weakened, can
still be inspired by the free gift of Grace. And in this freedom man must, as
St. Paul writes in his Epistle to the Philippians 2:12, "work out
your own salvation with fear and trembling." it cannot be denied that monastic
and ascetical spirituality took this seriously. In Galatians 5:1 St. Paul writes
that "Christ freed us for freedom. Therefore stand firm."
The total
theological significance of all that took place in the coming of Christ, in the
Incarnation of the God-Man, in his life, his teachings, his death, his
resurrection, his establishment of the Church and the mystical sacramental life
in the Church, his Ascension, his sending of the Holy Spirit, and his Second
Coming and Judgment—all this has radically altered the old law of works, and the
meaning was clear to the early Church. It is true that what St. Paul says about
the "works of the law" can be applied to any form of Christianity that deviates
from the precision of the balance, that deviates from the authentic "works of
the Spirit," replacing them by a mechanical and mechanistic attitude. And in
Galatians 3:27 St. Paul immediately connects "justification by faith" with the
mystical sacrament of baptism. "For you are all sons of God through the faith in
Christ Jesus, for as many of you as were baptized into Christ, have put on
Christ." Within this context what is the distinction between the "justification
by faith" and "by faith" being "baptized into Christ," and, hence, having "put
on Christ"?
St. Paul is
addressing Christians, those who have been baptized, those who have accepted the
faith. Despite all his language about "justification by faith," about "putting
on Christ" through baptism, about the objective aspect of redemption having been
accomplished, St. Paul still can write in Galatians 4:19 that he "travails in
birth until Christ is formed" in them. What can this mean except that the
redemptive process for man is one of struggle, one of rising and falling, one of
continual spiritual dynamism? In 5:7 he writes that they "were running well" and
asks "who hindered you?"—invoking again the image of a race.
In Galatians
5:14 St. Paul repeats Christ’s commandment of love, a thought not foreign to St.
Paul, especially when one considers his "Hymn to Love" [Agape] in I
Corinthians 13. "For the whole law has been summed up in one expression:
you shall love your neighbor as yourself." He then distinguishes the "works of
the Spirit" from the "works of the flesh," explicitly linking the latter with
the old law. And then he again exhorts and commands from the realism of
spiritual life (5:25). "If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the
Spirit. What is the meaning of such an exhortation? It has a meaning
based on realism only if the "living in the Spirit" refers to the entirety of
the objective work of the redemptive work of Christ now accomplished and
available to mankind, a redemption which surrounds them by the life of the
Church in which they live but a redemption in which they must actively
participate, in which they must "walk" if they are to obtain and receive the
final work of redemption, the union of man and God in love, in goodness, in
truth. The "walk" is an obvious expression of activity, of movement toward a
goal. In Galatians 6:2 St. Paul links the commandment of love and the "walking
in the Spirit" with "the law of Christ." "And thus you will fulfill the law of
Christ." The very language of "the law of Christ" and the "fulfilling" of that
law" is theologically significant, for "the law of Christ" refers to everything
communicated to the Church through Christ. The monastic and ascetical life is
precisely such an attempt to fulfill this "law of Christ." His concluding
thought in Galatians is: "Peace and mercy upon those many who will walk by this
rule." The "new creation" about which St. Paul speaks is both an already
accomplished redemptive reality and, for us as individuals with spiritual
freedom, the "new creation" is a reality which must be "formed," a reality which
can come about only through process, when the subjective reality of each person
is "formed" into the objective reality of the "new creation" wrought by our Lord
Jesus Christ.
EPHESIANS
In
Ephesians 1:14 St. Paul uses extremely interesting language in
relationship to our "salvation" in Christ "in whom we believed and thereafter
were sealed with the Holy Spirit "who is an earnest of our inheritance unto
redemption of the possession." The meaning here is clear: the seal of the Holy
Spirit is the "deposit" toward an inheritance of which we take possession when
we acquire it. It is a dynamic text. That possession of such an inheritance
requires that we walk in "good works" in clear in Ephesians 2:10: "For we
are a product of him, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God
previously prepared in order that we might walk in them." In Ephesians
6:11 St. Paul again uses the image of warfare and of putting on the "whole
armor of God." The "walk" is evoked again in 5:8 and 5:15. "Walk as children of
the light." "See, therefore, that you walk carefully." In 5:9 he writes that
"the fruit of the light [is] in all goodness and righteousness and truth." It is
the "walking in the light" that produces "the fruit which is [in] all goodness,
righteousness and truth" and this is described as "proving what is well-pleasing
to the Lord."
In
Ephesians 5:14 St. Paul quotes from what was probably a hymn of the early
Church, a text which has the ring of a monastic motif to it. "Rise, sleeping
one." And to what purpose ought one to rise? In 5:1 he commands to "be therefore
imitators of God." In 4:23 St. Paul writes that we are "to be renewed in the
spirit of your mind" and "to put on the new man." He begs us in 4:1 "to walk
worthily of the calling with which you were called." In 4:15 he exhorts that "we
may grow into him [Christ] in all respects." In 6:18 St. Paul stresses the
importance of prayer. "By means of all prayer and petition, praying at every
time." All these are aspects of the monastic and ascetical life.
PHILIPPIANS
The
Epistle to the Philippians contains many expressions that directly relate
to an active spiritual life. In 1:25 he speaks of "advance and joy of the
faith." In 1:27 he speaks of "conducting" oneself "worthily of the Gospel."
"Stand in one spirit, with one soul striving together in the faith of the
Gospel." Here is the "striving" so disliked by Nygren.
For St. Paul
we are required not only to believe but also to suffer. In Philippians
1:29 he writes: "ou monon to eis auton pisteuein alla kai to hyper autou
paschein." And he refers to this as a "struggle," an "ordeal." In 2:16 he
speaks of the possibility of "running and laboring in vain." In 3:8 St. Paul
speaks of "gaining Christ," and this within the context of the "righteousness of
the law" as opposed to the "righteousness based on faith." Philippians
3:11-16 is one of the more interesting texts. "If somehow I may attain to
the resurrection out of the dead. Not that I received already or already have
been perfected, but I follow if indeed I may lay hold, in as much as I was laid
hold of by Christ Jesus. Brothers, not yet do I reckon myself to have laid hold.
But one thing [I do], forgetting on one hand the things behind, and stretching
forward on the other hand to the things which are ahead, I follow the mark for
the prize of the heavenly calling of God in Christ Jesus. Therefore, as many as
[are] perfect, let us think this. Nevertheless, to what we arrived, let us walk
by the same." Here St. Paul speaks both of laying hold of Christ and being "laid
hold of by Christ." The synergistic activity is obvious and realistic. All the
language in the passage indicates and underscores the activity of God and the
activity of man, of the objective reality of an achieved redemption and man’s
process of "laying hold," of "stretching forward" to the ultimate goal, a goal
unachievable if man does not become spiritually active. The Greek verbal
structures of "I may attain" and "I may lay hold of" are not without
meaning.
In
Philippians 4:8-9 St. Paul speaks universally as he does in Romans
1. "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable,
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovable, whatsoever things are well-spoken of, if there be any virtue, and if
there be any praise, consider these things." These qualities—the true, the just,
the pure, the lovable—are not qualities which have been revolutionized by the
new creation wrought by the Incarnation of the God-Man, they have not come into
existence nor been revolutionized by Christian thought. Rather, they are within
the very texture of human nature and existence, things that every conscience
knows spontaneously. What Christianity has done, however, is to break forth a
new path for mankind to participate in the true, the just, the pure in a new way
and with a new power through Christ. They now no longer exist as ideals, as the
absolute, but are existentially and ontologically accessible to human nature
through redemption. St. Paul speaks almost a Platonic language here, and yet it
is thoroughly Christian.
COLOSSIANS
In St. Paul’s
Epistle to the Colossians 1:22-23 and 29 the realism of synergy is
depicted. "But now he reconciled in the body of his flesh through his death to
present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him, if indeed you
continue in the faith having been founded and steadfast and not being moved away
from the hope of the Gospel which you heard."
The objective
reconciliation now exists but in order to participate in it one must be found
holy, blameless, and irreproachable, and this is all contingent upon the
significant "if"—"if indeed you continue in the faith." In verse 29 we encounter
the ideas of "maturity," "labor," and "struggle" or "ordeal." "In order that we
may present every man mature in Christ, for which also I labor struggling
according to his energy energizing in me in power." Colossians 1:10
expresses the same idea of "worth," of "pleasing" God, of "bearing fruit in
every good work," and of "increasing in the knowledge of God." But the very
power comes from the might of the glory of God. "With all power dynamized
according to the might of his glory." Colossians 2:6-7 expresses also the
two spiritual wills and activities in the process of redemption. "As therefore
you received Christ Jesus the Lord, walk in him, and being confirmed in the
faith as you were taught."
The depth of
the idea of synergy is found not only in co-dying and co-suffering with Christ
but also in co-resurrection with him. In Colossians 3:1 St. Paul writes:
"If therefore you were co-raised with Christ, seek the things above." St. Paul
continues the use of many imperative exhortations in chapter 3. "Put to death
therefore your members on earth: fornication, uncleanness, passion, evil desire,
and covetousness which is idolatry" (5). "Put away now all things . . ." (8).
And then the command (4:2) to continue in prayer and vigil.
I AND II THESSALONIANS
In I
Thessalonians St. Paul continues this second aspect of the redemptive
process by referring to the "work of faith" (1:3), by expressing concern that
"labor may be in vain" (3:5), by exhorting "if you stand in the Lord" (3:8), by
exhorting that the "breastplate of faith and love" be put on (5:8), and by
commanding to test everything, to hold fast to what is good, to abstain from
every form of evil (5:21-22). In 3:10 St. Paul writes: "Praying exceedingly
night and day ... to adjust the shortcomings of your faith." Why the need to
adjust the shortcomings of faith, if faith "alone" is the sole criterion of
salvation, as is held by certain schools of theology rooted in the tradition of
the Reformation? In 4:4-5 St. Paul writes interestingly. "For this is the will
of God: your sanctification . . . that each one of you know how to possess his
vessel in sanctification and honor." The goal here of the spiritual life in
Christ is sanctification and the significant text is to "know how to possess"
this "vessel." Such language expresses the dynamism of a synergistic process of
redemption. In 5:9 St. Paul uses the expression "unto the obtaining of
salvation." In II Thessalonians 2:14 St. Paul uses the expression unto
obtaining of the glory of our Lord." In II Thessalonians 1: 11 St Paul
prays that they may be deemed worthy of the calling and that they may fulfill
every "good pleasure of goodness and work of faith in power."
I AND II TIMOTHY
In I
Timothy 1:5-6 we read: "Now the end of the charge is love out of a pure
heart and a good conscience and unpretended faith, from which things some,
missing aim, turned aside." In 1:18-19 the image of warfare is again used. "This
charge I commit to you, child Timothy ... in order that you might war by them
the good warfare, having faith and a good conscience, which some, thrusting
away, have made shipwreck concerning the faith."
I Timothy
2:1-3 has the same intensity of spiritual activity found in monastic and
ascetical literature: "I exhort, therefore, first of all, that petitions,
prayers, intercessions, and eucharists be made on behalf of all men, on behalf
of kings and all those in high positions, in order that we may lead a peaceable
and quiet life in all piety and seriousness. This is good and acceptable before
God our Savior, who wishes all men to be saved and to come to a full knowledge
of truth." The same emphasis continues in 4:7-10, especially the expressions
"exercise yourself" and "for unto this we labor and struggle." I Timothy
6:11-12 again stresses the "struggle," that "laying hold" of that which has
been objectively accomplished in redemption. "Struggle the good struggle of the
faith, lay hold on eternal life." And in the verse preceding this one is
commanded "to pursue righteousness, piety, faith, love, endurance, meekness."
What spiritual meaning can the "pursuit of righteousness" have unless it in fact
indicates that, although the "righteousness of God" is established in Christ
Jesus, we still must actively struggle in spiritual warfare in order to "lay
hold on" this "righteousness"? Already in I Timothy 5:9 it is clear that
"widows" of a certain age had a special place within the spiritual life of the
Church. "Let a widow be enrolled." Enrolled into what? It is obviously a special
activity within the spiritual life of the Church to which widows were enrolled,
already a special form of spiritual activity in the earliest life of the
Church.
In II
Timothy 1:6 both the objective reality of the gift of redemption and the
subjective, individual work necessary to "lay hold on" this redemptive work are
clearly apparent. "I remind you to fan the flame of the gift of God, which is in
you." The synergy of redemption is spoken of in 2:11-12 with the all significant
"if." "For if we co-died with him, we shall also co-live with him; if we endure,
we shall also co-reign with him." In 2:21 sanctification is contingent upon
self-purification. "If, therefore, anyone purifies himself ... he will be a
vessel unto honor, having been sanctified." In 2:22 again we are exhorted to
"flee youthful lusts" and "to pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace" and the
"calling on the Lord" must be done "out of a pure heart." In 4:7 the path of
salvation is presented again as a struggle. "I have struggled the good struggle,
I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."
HEBREWS
The
Epistle to the Hebrews is rich in its thought on both aspects of
redemption—on the work of God, and on the spiritual struggle on the part of man.
In 3:14 the language is striking. "For we have become sharers of Christ, if
indeed we hold fast the beginning of the foundation until the end." In 4:1 the
idea is similar. "Let us fear, therefore, lest a promise being left to enter
into his rest, any of you seems to have come short." The idea of "entering this
rest" is continued in 4:11. "Let us be eager, therefore, to enter into that
rest, lest anyone falls in the same example of disobedience." In 6:1 "the
beginning" of the process is spoken of, accompanied by the exhortation: "let us
be borne on to in maturity." In 6:11 one must show eagerness to the "full
assurance of the hope unto the end!". The same exhortations of "let us" are
found throughout Hebrews. In 10:22-23 it is: "Let us approach with a true
heart" and "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope unyieldingly."
In 11:1 a
definition of faith is proferred. "Now faith is the foundation of things being
hoped, the proof of things not being seen." This definition of faith is often
dismissed too readily. It is a deep idea, especially when considered in its
original Greek structure. Faith is the "foundation," the "reality" upon which
the "hope" of the Christian faith is built. And in its reality it contains the
very proof, the evidence of the heavenly kingdom. The entire eleventh chapter
reveals that "faith" was active under the "old law," although the faith of and
in Christ is of deeper ontological significance precisely because it is the
foundation into a new reality not available under the "old law." After a lengthy
exposition of examples of " faith" under the "old law," the Epistle to the
Hebrews in 12:1 engages in an exhortation that concerns the very spiritual
activity of the new faith. "Putting away every hindrance and the most besetting
sin, let us run through endurance the struggle set before us." The reality of
"discipline" is stressed in Hebrews, especially in 12:7: "Endure unto
disciple." And that one can "fail from the grace of God" is clear from
12:15.
I AND II PETER
In I Peter
1:9 it is not the beginning of faith or faith in general which results in
salvation but it is precisely the "end of faith" which "obtains" salvation.
Purification and obedience are dominant themes in I Peter. "Having
purified your souls in the obedience of truth unto an unpretended brotherly
love, love one another earnestly from the heart (1:22). The process of growth in
the spiritual life is stressed in 2:2: "in order that ... you may grow into
salvation." The "war" between lust and the soul is spoken of in 2:11: "I exhort
you as sojourners and aliens to abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against
the soul." In II Peter 1:4 a profound theological thought
is expressed. The promises which God has given are great and precious;
corruption is in the world because of lust; and man can not only escape this
corruption but also become partakers or participators in the Divine nature, an
idea which is developed in early Christian and in Eastern Orthodox theological
thought, an idea which lays the foundation for the doctrine of
theosis, of divinization. "He has given to us precious and very
great promises in order that through these you become partakers of the Divine
nature, escaping from the corruption that is in the world by lust." Precisely
because of this we are instructed in the following verses to supplement our
faith, and then the dynamic spiritual process of growth is presented. "And
for this very reason bringing in all diligence, supply in your faith virtue, and
in virtue [supply] knowledge, and in knowledge [supply] self-control, and in
self-control [supply] endurance, and in endurance [supply] piety, and in piety
[supply] brotherly love, and in brotherly love [supply] love."
In II
Peter 1:10 there is mention of one’s "calling" and election." And yet in the
very same text one is exhorted to be "diligence" precisely to make this "calling
and election" firm. "Be diligent to make your calling and election firm." And in
2:20-22 the falling away from the "way of righteousness" is not only possible,
but it actually takes place, and it is worse than had one not known the "way of
righteousness" at all. And the texts speaks about those who had a "full
knowledge of the Lord." "For if, having escaped the defilements of the world by
a full knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, these persons again have
been defeated, having been entangled, the last things have become to them worse
than the first. For it was better for them not to have fully known the way of
righteousness than, fully knowing, to turn from the holy commandment delivered
to them. It has happened to them."
THE EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN
In the three
Epistles of St. John we encounter the same language, the same reality of
the two aspects of redemption. The same "ifs" are there, the same emphasis of
purification (see I John 3:3), the same language about "pleasing God," and the
same emphasis on "keeping the commandment" and "not sinning." There is an
organic link between loving God and keeping his commandments—the full range of
the commandments of Christ.
THE EPISTLE OF ST. JAMES AND LUTHER’S EVALUATION
Luther’s
attitude toward the Epistle of St. James is well known. In fact, Luther
positioned not only James at the end of the German Bible but also Hebrews,
Jude, and Revelation. And his criterion was that they lacked
evangelical "purity." He was not the first to do so. His colleague at
Wittenberg, upon whom Luther later turned, Carlstadt, had distinguished among
the books of the New Testament—and the Old Testament—before Luther took his own
action. As early as 1520 Carlstadt divided the entirety of Scripture into three
categories: libri summae dignitatis, in which Carstadt included the
Pentateuch as well as the Gospels; libri secundae dignitatis, in which he
included the Prophets and fifteen epistles; and libri tertiae
dignitatis.
Luther
rejected the Epistle of St. James theologically but of necessity retained
it in the German Bible, even if as a kind of appendix. The ending of Luther’s
Preface to his edition of the German Bible, which was omitted in later
editions, reads in the German of his time: "... for that reason St. James’
Epistle is a thoroughly straw epistle, for it has indeed no evangelical
merit to it." Luther rejected it theologically "because it gives righteousness
to works in outright contradiction to Paul and all other Scriptures ... because,
while undertaking to teach Christian people, it does not once mention the
passion, the resurrection, the Spirit of Christ; it names Christ twice, but
teaches nothing about him; it calls the law a law of liberty, while Paul calls
it a law of bondage, of wrath, of death and of sin."
Luther even
added the word "alone"—allein—in Romans 3:28 before "through
faith" precisely to counter the words in James 2:24: "You see that a man is
justified by works and not by faith only." What is more is that Luther became
very aggressive and arrogant in his response to the criticism that he had added
"alone" to the Biblical text. "If your papist makes much useless fuss about the
word sola, allein, tell him at once: Doctor Martin Luther will have it so
and says: Papist and donkey are one thing; sic volo, sic jubeo, sit pro
ratione voluntas. For we do not want to be pupils and followers of the
Papists, but their masters and judges." Luther continues in a bantering manner
in an attempt to imitate St. Paul in the latter’s response to his opponents.
"Are they doctors? So am I. Are they learned? So am I. Are they preachers? So am
I. Are they theologians? So am I. Are they philosophers? So am I. Are they
writers of books? So am I. And I shall further boast: I can expound Psalms and
Prophets; which they cannot. I can translate; which they cannot . . . Therefore
the word allein shall remain in my New Testament, and though all
pope-donkeys should get furious and foolish, they shall not get the word out."
In some German editions the word "allein" was printed in larger type!
Some critics of Luther’s translation have accused him of deliberately
translating inaccurately to support his theological view. As early as 1523 Dr.
Emser, an opponent of Luther, claimed that Luther’s translation contained "a
thousand grammatical and fourteen hundred heretical errors." This is exaggerated
but the fact does remain that there are numerous errors in Luther’s
translation.
Indeed, the
entire Reformation in its attitude towards the New Testament is directly in
opposition to the thought on this subject of St. Augustine, who was highly
esteemed in many respects by the Reformation theologians and from whom they took
the basis for some of the theological visions, especially predestination,
original sin, and irresistible grace for Luther and Calvin. On this subject, as
on some many others, there is no common ground between Luther and Calvin on the
one hand and St. Augustine on the other. St. Augustine wrote: "I should not
believe the Gospel except as moved by the authority of the Church." It should be
pointed out that Calvin did not take objection to the Epistle of St.
James.
Luther was so
caught up in the abstraction of a passive righteousness, so infuriated by his
experience as a monk in practicing what he would refer to as "righteousness of
works," so caught up in attempting to create a specific meaning to one line of
the thought of St. Paul that he misses the very foundation from which the
theological thought of St. James comes forth—and that is the initiative and will
of God. Luther’s criticism that St. James does not mention the passion, the
resurrection, and the Spirit of Christ is inane, for his readers knew the
apostolic deposit—there was no need to mention the very basis and essence of the
living faith which was known to those reading the epistle. Such a criticism by
Luther reveals the enormous lack of a sense for the historical life of the early
Church, for the Church was in existence and it is from the Church and to the
Church that the epistles are written. Historically, the Church existed before
any texts of the "new covenant" were written. The Church existed on the oral
tradition received from the apostles, as is clearly revealed from the pages of
the New Testament itself.
The very
foundation of the theological vision of St. James is the will of God. In
1:17-18 St. James writes: "Every good giving and every perfect gift is from
above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom change has no place, no
turning, no shadow. Having willed, he brought us forth by the word of truth that
we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures." In 4:15 St. James writes:
"You are instead to say: if the Lord wills, we will both live and will do this
or that." One theologically weak text in the Epistle of St. James is in
4:8: "Draw near to God and he will draw near to you." Taken by itself it has a
Pelagian ring to it. And in monastic and ascetical literature one often
encounters such expressions. But the meaning in both this epistle and in
monastic and ascetical literature must be understood within their total
context. Once the synergism of the redemptive process takes place in the
human heart, then the existential reciprocity of grace and response is so
dynamic that one can, as it were, use such expressions, precisely because it is
assumed that God has initiated and that grace is always at work in the human
heart, in all the depths of the interior of man as well as in external life. The
text in the Epistle of St. James must be understood within the context of
1:18 and 4:15. Moreover, it is to be noted that this text is preceded by "Be
subject, therefore, to God." In being "subject to God," a relationship is
already in place, a relationship which presupposes the initiative of God and the
response of man.
The
Epistle of St. James contains many expressions that will be used in
monastic and ascetical life. Temptation (1:14), the passions (4:1), purifying,
cleansing, humbling oneself (4), and "be distressed and mourn and weep" (4:9).
The excoriating words against the rich (5:1-6) underguird the monastic vow of
poverty.
THE LIFE OF THE EARLY CHURCH
The life of
the early Church as described in the Acts of the Apostles is so clear
that no analysis or presentation of texts is necessary to demonstrate that the
essentials exist for a form of spirituality similar to that of monastic and
ascetical Christianity. Mention should also be made of the life of St. John the
Baptist: "It is on solid grounds that a student of monastic origins like Dom
Germain Morin upheld his apparent paradox: it is not so much the monastic life
which was a novelty at the end of the third century and the beginning of the
fourth, but rather the life of adaptation to the world led by the mass of
Christians at the time when the persecutions ceased. The monks actually did
nothing but preserve intact, in the midst of altered circumstances, the ideal of
the Christian life of early days ... And there is another continuous chain from
the apostles to the solitaries and then to the cenobites, whose ideal, less
novel than it seems, spread so quickly from the Egyptian deserts at the end of
the third century. This chain is constituted by the men and women who lived in
continence, ascetics and virgins, who never ceased to be held in honor in the
ancient Church."
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