For Those in Exile

Today the church remembers the Biblical prophet-in-exile: Saint Ezekiel, Critic, Visionary, and Giver of Questionable Advice.

Saint Ezekiel was (probably) born sometime in the early 600’s BCE while King Josiah was instituting the reforms that Judah had hoped would keep them in Divine favor and keep warring armies from continually conquering them.

Spoiler alert: the reforms didn’t work.

He was born into the priestly cast of Israel, and was supposedly a descendant of Joshua himself. Ezekiel, prophet and priest, was married and, because of his high standing in Jewish society, was exiled to Babylon when the Babylonians crushed Jerusalem. The Babylonians were no fools. To prevent an insurrection in their captured lands they would exile the best and the brightest (and those who held the most political sway) to work in Babylon for the king there, benefiting from their wisdom and preventing any influential characters from gathering power around themselves.

Ezekiel was married, and reportedly lived in Tel Abib on the banks of the Chebar river.

In the book of Ezekiel we get a glimpse into his prophecies and encounters with God. Ezekiel was a person who lived off of the visions he had of the Divine, much like Saint Julian of Norwich and Saint John of the Cross, and his mystical visions vacillated between beautiful and horrific. He warned of the coming destruction of the temple in Jerusalem and, for five years, acted out this destruction in a kind of pantomime for all to see.

Other notable illustrations in his visions were the graphic depictions of the angels surrounding the Divine throne (human face, ox, eagle, and lion), and the cryptic fiery “wheels in wheels” which always reminds me of the Johnny Cash song, “Ring of Fire.”

When the prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem proved true, he became a would-be advisor for those also in exile in Babylon. Notably it was he who told Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to refuse to bow down to King Nebuchadnezzar’s golden idol, creating the fun Easter Vigil story popularly known as “Three Men in a Fiery Furnace” because when you don’t do what the King wants, you get thrown in the oven.

You know, that old chestnut…

Surely that was questionable advice, but everything turned out alright.

Ezekiel is held as a model of faith in all three of the Abrahamic traditions, the “People of the Book.” The Eastern Orthodox Church honors him on this day, as do many other communities (including Lutherans).

Ezekiel is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that even when you find yourself as an exile from your home, stay true to your convictions and you’ll find your home is never far away.

-first icon is a typical Russian writing of Ezekiel and can be purchased at orthodoxchristiansupply.com

-second icon is a writing of Ezekiel’s vision of “wheels within wheels” and, though I’ve tried hard for a while to find the writer of the icon, I’ve been unable to locate them. Note that I’m not the writer of either.

Labor On

Today the church remembers a firebrand of a saint who threw off the shackles of patriarchy every chance she got: Saint Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Speaker, Feminist, and Woman’s Rights Advocate.

Saint Elizabeth was born in Johnstown, New York to strict Presbyterian parents in the first part of the 19th Century. Early into adulthood she married abolitionist Henry Brewster Stanton, and together they had seven children. She organized women across the country to fight for the right to vote, coming alongside other advocates like Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and Amelia Bloomer.

Together they organized the first Women’s Rights Convention in Seneca Falls, New York in 1848.

She was extremely witty, a brilliant scholar, and a staunch abolitionist. She created the “Declaration of Sentiments,” an expansion of the Declaration of Independence that inserted the word “woman” and “women” throughout the document. Along with advocating for woman’s suffrage and against slavery, she also moved the needle on the right for women to own property and divorce their husbands.

She was a regular church attender, but a sharp critic of Christianity (and religion in general) which makes me think we would probably have been friends.

She died in 1902, never witnessing the 19th Amendment or realizing the right to vote. Nevertheless, she paved the way for that legislation to happen.

Saint Stanton is a reminder for me, and should be for everyone, that sometimes we don’t see the results we labor for, but we must labor on.

-historical bits from Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations

-icon written by Fr. Robert Lentz and can be purchased at trinitystores.com

The Sister

Today the church remembers a 4th Century saint who was often overshadowed by her more famous brothers Greg and Bas (you know them Gregory of Nyssa and Basil the Great, two of the three “Cappadocian Fathers” of the faith): Saint Macrina the Younger, Scholar and Universalist.

Saint Macrina was born in a family already well-steeped in the early Christian movement. She was named after her grandmother, Macrina the Elder, and though her brothers would gain notoriety for their scholarly treatises, they themselves mentioned Macrina as a teacher of faith in their home.

Having been betrothed in an arranged marriage by her father, Macrina never tasted wedded life as her fiancé died before the wedding. She came to see her vows as belonging to Christ alone, and lived an aesthetic and austere life with her mother and a group of women who pledged themselves to communal living. In this community, everyone was equal, whether you were formally a servant or wealthy enough not to owe anyone anything.

It’s one of the early egalitarian communities of the faith, and St. Macrina grew in responsibility as the community grew, taking on what we would call an Abbess role in time.

St. Macrina was also the tutor of her younger brother, Peter of Sebaste who would become a Bishop in the early church. She taught him not only the great philosophical ideas of the time, but also about The Way which was spreading like wildfire in the West and the Near East. In this way, and because she had such a strong influence on Greg and Bas (as I call them), means she was a shaper of the early church, an unseen hand on the needle of the faith.

Known for being a deep thinker, St. Macrina was supposedly a Universalist, and is lifted up by the Universalist Unitarian Church as a great scholar. Her brother, Gregory of Nyssa, composed Dialogue on the Soul and Resurrection in which he records a conversation with Macrina on her death bed (actually, her aestheticism was so great she refused to die in a bed, and chose to die lying on the ground). In that conversation she notes her deep conviction that everyone would be reconciled to God in the end, faithful and pagan alike.

St. Macrina died on this day in 379 AD in Pontus, modern day Turkey.

Saint Macrina is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that the early Christian movement comprised a multiplicity of thoughts and theologies…and still does, despite what the zealots in all corners might want you to think.

-historical bits from open source publications

-icon a classic Byzantine style by unidentified writer where St. Macrina holds an icon of her brothers

On Gilded Morality

Today the church remembers a relatively unknown 4th Century Saint whose legend is larger than his unremarkable life: Saint Alexius of Edessa, Literalist and Beggar.

We know very little about the historical life of Saint Alexius. In fact, we’re not even sure if he came from Rome (following the Syriac tradition of his story) or from Edessa (following the Greek tradition). He is left out of the annals of saints, only really appearing prominently in a 12th Century French poem, “la Vie de saint Alexis,” notable only because it is the first Romance language poem in iambic pentameter (there’s a trivia feather for your cap!).

But regardless of what tradition you follow, Greek, Syriac, or even French, Saint Alexius is remembered for something that is still considered a miracle: he gave up all his wealth to live with and amongst the poor.

And by all the accounts he was quite wealthy.

And he didn’t do it in a flashy way. And he didn’t do it after his death, leaving a large bequest somewhere. He did it as a young adult, leaving a life of luxury to live on the streets.

Poverty is not everyone’s call, Beloved. And certainly many who struggle to make ends meet these days don’t do so voluntarily, but do so because the systems of the world conspire to keep the poor, poor (even while dangling the lottery in front of the downtrodden to take what few dollars are available).

But Alexius is remembered because he embodied a deep truth that the church (and the church of the United States in particular) has ignored: luxurious wealth and greed are sins.

Mega church pastors with designer shoes talking about sexual immorality are literally walking on their own hypocrisy, all the while selling a Christianity where you get what you deserve, and you deserve to have it all, by God.

The fact that no one remembers anything about Saint Alexius other than he was rich and chose to become a beggar harkens back to a social ethic where we once remembered that giving up abundance for the sake of others (and even for the sake of your own life) was virtuous.

Saint Alexius is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church (and yes, the world) that gold-plated greed is just gilded morality passing off as providence.

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

-icon written by the saints at Byzantine Icons, and available for purchase there

-historical bits from public sources as well as Daily Magic by Judika Illes

-commentary my own

Ruler of the Land Under Waves

In reading about my ancestors, the ancient Celts, I recently came across the god Manannan mac lir, the Irish god of the sea. They called him, “Ruler of the Land Under Wave” (which I think is a pretty bad-ass title).

For the Celts the sea they spoke of consisted mostly of the Irish Sea and the islands between Ireland and Britain.

It was thought that the Ruler of the Land Under Wave traveled over the water in his chariot called Ocean Sweeper, led by his favorite horse Enbarr (which roughly translates to “Waterfoam”).

Manannan held one of the ancient magical pieces of the world, a great shining cloak that could change color as the sea changed, making him largely invisible for those not paying attention.

On the Isle of Man the ancients would climb a mountain with a bundle of green rushes and pay tribute to him on Midsummer Eve, as they regarded the Ruler of the Land Under Wave as their great protector.

Even now some Irish and Scottish fisherman who hold on to the old ways say a blessing to Manannan before heading out to sea:

“Manannan mac lir (Son of the Sea),
who blessed our Island,
Bless us and our boat, going out well.
Coming in better, with living and dead (fish) in our boat.”

A statue to Manannan mac lir still stands in Gortmore, Magilligan, County Londonderry, Northern Ireland.

On Rhythm

The ancient Celts had a strong inclination that the rhythms of nature were echoed in the rhythms of the human body. Winter was for silence and rest, Spring for energy and growth, Summer for blazing work and toil, and Autumn for winding down and letting go.

They understood that living in a way that was in alignment with these rhythms led to a balanced way of being in this world.

At every new moon they also saw that the cycle of life both as continued and began again at the same time, giving support for this idea that time is circular, not linear, and that every moment is both a continuation of a past step and the opportunity for newness.

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

Read Between the Lines

Today the church remembers one who is considered to be the first Christian ruler of Russia: Olga, Princess of Kiev, Confessor and Ruler.

Saint Olga is the grandmother of the first “official” ruler of Russia who confessed the faith. Her grandson Vladimir gets the “official” title because of patriarchy, but in actuality Olga was the first official Christian to rule the nation.

Born in the late 9th Century, Olga married Prince Igor and, after his death in the year 945 A.D., officially ruled in his stead until her son came of age.

She was known for being courageous, “sticking it to the man,” instituting reforms that her husband was unable to carry out regarding financial and administrative changes, and had been an early convert to the faith through the Scandinavian missionaries who traveled down the river system from the West.

In the year 957 A.D. Olga visited Constantinople and some say that is where she was officially baptized, though others claim that she had long been an adherent to the faith. Regardless, her personal faith did not indicate a change of heart for her country, and her son who came to rule after her was not a confessor.

Olga is remembered in Eastern Orthodoxy as the “Blessed Princess Olga,” and is honored in the Ukrainian and Russian branches of the church. She is remembered as being witty and brave. The story goes that when she went to be baptized in Constantinople, the Emperor saw her beauty and asked her to marry him. She replied, “First I must be baptized,” and then followed it up with, “and I need a Godfather. Will you be mine?”

The Emperor agreed and, following her baptism, returned to the invitation of marriage. The bright Princess replied, “We are now family through baptism, and never has a father married a daughter, even amongst the heathens!”

Knowing he had been outsmarted, he gave Olga his blessing to return to Russia with the faith.

She died in the year 969 of old age.

Saint Olga is a reminder for me, and should be for all the church, that too often the female saints amongst us don’t really get their due because, well, patriarchy is hard to eradicate and we must always keep in mind the author of histories and, well, read between the lines.

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

-Icon written in the Byzantine style by Liondas Chr. And N.

-historical notes gleaned from Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations

Sometimes It’s Ok to Upset Your Colleagues

Today, for your lesser-known saint day shout-out, we have Bartolome de Las Casas (1566), who generally made all of his colleagues upset when he was made Bishop of Chiapas and prohibited slavery and argued for the humane treatment of native Guatemalans.

“The (Guatemalans) are our brothers, and Christ has given his life for them. Why, then, do we persecute them with such inhuman savagery when they do not deserve such treatment?” from New Book of Festivals & Commemorations by Pfatteicher

On Accompanying

Today the church recognizes a peasant from Bavaria who would influence both an entire continent and an island nation, Johannes Flierl, Missionary to Australia and Papua New Guinea.

Born in humble beginnings in 1858, Flierl was ordained a pastor in Bavaria and started his mission work in the interior of Australia with the native aboriginal persons there. Roughly eight years later, he boarded a boat and hopped across the Torres Strait, landing in Finschafen, Papua New Guinea, the capital of the German colony of Kaiser-Wilhelmsland.

Flierl was the first Lutheran missionary on the island. He established a mission near Simbang, but didn’t baptize any locals until 14 years later.

Flierl is remembered not only for his mission work, but most importantly as a champion for the locals in their fight for rights against government oppression. A seminary in Finschafen was established in his name in 1957, ten years after his death.

Flierl’s mission would eventually become the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Papua New Guinea which, along with the Batak Church in Indonesia, is the largest of all Lutheran mission churches.

Flierl is notable for a few reasons, not the least of which is his innovative chin hair. It does my heart good to hear of a 19th Century missionary who was fighting for the rights of the people they were sent to walk with, not just trying to bludgeon them with a religion they didn’t ask to be exposed to.

The ELCA’s model for missions is one of accompaniment, and though it is unclear how closely Flierl’s work embodied that same spirit, I see glimmers of hope in his story that he may have practiced some of that mindset in his missions.

-historical notes gleaned from Pfatteicher’s “New Book of Festivals & Commemorations”