Copying the New Testament in Greek

I haven't posted in awhile, but I I thought I would try to get back to it. Last week I just started as the pastor of Rocky Hill Congregational Church, UCC in Rocky Hill, Connecticut, and I've had a lot to do to get going.

A modern codex

This week I started a new project, as if I didn't need any more! It started when my wife and I were in Barnes and Noble and in the journal section I noticed they had handmade journals that were identical in appearance to the codices used for early papyrus copies of the various books of the New Testament. The price was right so I picked up a couple. I had started hand-copying the New Testament in Greek last year but I eventually lost interest because I had made some formatting decisions that didn't work out. This time I've simplified it. I am estimating I will be able to put all the New Testament into five of these volumes.

The early manuscripts of the New Testament did not include the entire thing because the book would be too large. Instead, sections of the New Testament circulated separately, such as the four Gospels, the letters of Paul, etc. The typical cover appears to have been leather with a flap and a tie to keep it closed.

The first page of Matthew

I am currently near the end of Matthew 5, the first chapter of the Sermon on the Mount. The Greek script I am using is based on that in Papyrus 66, the Bodmer Papyrus, which contains the Gospel of John. It dates from around 200 AD and has a very clear, readable text. I am using a cartridge fountain pen with a fine point. I found that one cartridge will do about a dozen pages. That will be a lot of cartridges!

I find this to be a very restful, meditative activity in the evening or for a break during the day. As I copy the text (the UBS 4th edition text) I try to remind myself what the Greek means. My Greek isn't as good as it once was. I remember that since manuscripts were time-consuming to produce, many people would have only heard the text being read rather than reading it themselves, if indeed they could even read.

It's also interesting to remember that for all but the last five centuries the only books available were handwritten. This was the only way information was transmitted in book form. A person was using contemporary technology when they read a manuscript book. Whole industries centered around the production of materials for books, and for the actual writing of them. Imagine the impact the printed book had on the world.

The funny thing about manuscripts from this time is the way the words all merge together. There's no break between words. It seems to make it more difficult, but for someone who read Greek with ease it wouldn't present any difficulty. Try reading this:

THESEWORDSAREALLMERGEDTOGETHERBUTSTILLARENOTDIFFICULTTOREAD.

I will post more as I make progress.

Cemetery musings

 Recently I attended a family memorial service in Massachusetts, and since it was a Saturday I took my time coming home. I stopped in a couple of old cemeteries that I had visited close to 20 years ago, and this time I had my camera.

Cemeteries are familiar places to me. A common family pastime when I was growing up was to stop in an old cemetery and look at the stones. As a pastor I spend a great deal of time in cemeteries, relatively speaking. I am comfortable in them, and at times I can almost feel the presence of the departed souls whose bodies lie beneath the earth.

One cemetery I visited is in Littleton Common. The oldest stones date back to the 1720s. The other is in Billerica. Both are very old communities, and these two cemeteries reflect that long history.

I'm including some of the many pictures I took. The first one is from the Billerica cemetery. This stone was in the oldest part of the cemetery which dated from the 1690's to the 1720's. The style of the stones reflected this time period, being fairly small in size with rather cramped winged skulls, and sometimes elaborate decoration around the skulls. Several stones were not carved by professional stone cutters but were obviously home made. Only one had a date (1736) while the others had initials and no other carving. This particular stone has the initials "L.F." without any indication who this was. Some families resorted to homemade stones either because professionally carved stones were expensive or because the stone cutter was far away, or both.


The next stone is in Littleton, Mass. Similar stones appear across northeastern Massachusetts. They generally date from the 1720's through the 1760's, and feature a simple folk art-style face with rosettes and other simple decorations. I suspect that the origins of the decorations go back to pre-Christian Anglo Saxon England, but I don't know for sure.

The two small stones above with winged skulls date from 1719 (top) and 1694 (bottom). If you look closely under the skull on the top stone you will see an hourglass under the lichen. To the left and right of the hourglass are the inscriptions "Memento Mori" ("Remember Death") and "Fugit Hora" ("The hours fly"). Stones from this time period were intended to be reminders that life comes to an end.

To the right is the top part of the gravestone of the Rev. Samuel Ruggles in Bilerica, who died in 1749. Considering this stone likely dates from the 1760's, it probably replaced an earlier stone. The notable feature of this stone is the portrait carved at the top. This is one of two such stones in the Billerica cemetery, carved by the same hand. The lengthy inscription is in Latin and praises his gifts as a pastor. The Latin inscription also makes a rather obvious statement that if the reader isn't educated enough to read Latin then he/she shouldn't bother.

 To the left is another beautiful slate stonein Littleton,  probably carved by the same person as the Ruggles stone. Dating from 1769 it sports a very finely carved angel with an hourglass and the text "Memento Mori" above.

Below is another winged angel in Littleton from 1779. The striking head of the angel was a hallmark of a family in northern Massachusetts whose name escapes me. 

 The last stone for now is also in Littleton, carved by the same family as the angel to the right. This stone marks the grave of a five year old girl who died in 1768. Children's graves are all too common in cemeteries from this period. I have seen graves of children of one family who all died within a few weeks of one another. Sometimes an entire generation in one family would be wiped out in that way. It is impossible to even begin to understand the parents' grief.

The Origins of Chess

Chess is widely believed to have developed as the game “Chaturanga,” a Sanskrit word meaning “four arms.” Appearing around the sixth century, Chaturanga was a means of teaching strategy to Indian nobility. The game appears to have been played with figural pieces representing the four major branches of a complete army--the foot soldiers (pawns), the cavalry (knights), chariots (rooks--I will explain this in a minute) and of course, elephants (bishops--I’ll explain this soon as well).

Reproductions of Persian chess pieces ca. 1000.

 

With time the game was brought along trade routes to China and Persia. In Persia it came to be called “Shatranj.” It was again seen as a game for nobility and elites. In Persia Shatranj pieces were abstract in style because of prohibitions in Islam against depicting living beings. Through trade with Europe shatranj made its way across northern Africa and was brought into Europe through the Iberian peninsula and across Europe, including
Britain and Scandinavia. The date for its arrival in Europe is believed to be around 700-800 AD, and it probably reached Scandinavia and Britain around 1100 AD. Chess, as it was now called, caught on quickly and replaced other board games such as various forms of tafl, a strategy game common in northern Europe.

Reproductions of the Lewis chessmen.

For centuries Europeans retained the abstract Persian style of pieces, but figural pieces gradually became more common. The most notable example is the Lewis chessmen, discovered around 1831 on the remote Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides in Scotland. These pieces, representing foot soldiers, knights, bishops, queens and kings, have been reproduced countless times.

The original designation for chess pieces was different than today. Pawn, knight, and king were the same as today. The rook was originally a chariot, and the word “rook” (“rukh” in Persian) is a reminder of that. The rook, originally a square piece with a wedge cut out of the top became a castle. The elephant became the bishop because there were no elephants in Europe and elephants had ceased to be used in warfare, along with chariots. The Persian piece somewhat resembled a bishop’s mitre, so they became bishops.

The Charlemagne set. The kings are over five inches tall!

The queen is the most notable transformation. In the Indian and Persian versions the piece next to the king was the vizier or general. It did not become the queen until the game had been in Europe several centuries. It remained the weakest piece on the board until the late 1400’s when the bishop and queen took on their present-day moves.

The troops advance and face off.

Before the Lewis chessmen, which were made around 1150 in Norway, there was the Charlemagne chess set. This set, the remainders of which are in a museum in Paris, date from around 1050. Carved from single pieces of elephant ivory, these massive pieces comprise a chess set intended for royalty or high nobility. The workmanship is superior and the effect is unmistakable.

Several years ago I decided to reproduce this set making the reproduction pieces full size. Ivory is no longer available, nor should it be, and I wouldn’t be able to afford it if it were, so I decided to form the pieces using Sculpey, a polymer clay that is baked to harden it. Several evenings a week for a month or so I worked on these pieces, forming them as best as I could.

If I don’t mind saying so myself, the result was worth the effort. I’ve gotten many compliments on this set at SCA events. I have led classes in medieval chess at a number of events, and I try to reserve the huge Charlemagne set for younger children, if there are any in the class. It has been a delight to see 8 or 9 year old kids playing chess with pieces that are almost too big for them to pick up with one hand. It’s quite a thrill for them.

To sit and reflect on the Charlemagne set is an interesting experience. It brings the game to life, but is also reminds me of the brutal nature of war

Medieval fantasies of security and sovereignty

As I look at one of my medieval chess sets (this one is based on a 14th century German set) I am reminded of the symbolic meaning of chess in the middle ages. In modern chess we are separated  by centuries from the reality behind the pieces--castles, knights, bishops, queens and kings, footsoldiers (pawns), they are just elements from myths to us. For someone living in the Middle Ages, however, it was a reflection of society. Castles represented security, property, power. Knights defended their masters. Bishops served the church but were also beholden to secular lords. Kings and queens demanded loyalty yet they often lacked the absolute power we think they had. Pawns, of course, were at the bottom of the heap and did the dirty work of war and paid the highest price.

The myth we have is that medieval society was stable with such a stratified social order in place. It was anything but stable, though. Certainly there were periods of stability in particular corners of Christendom but never was medieval Europe completely stable. War was constant, economic stresses could suddenly loom large and cause great instability, and disease could cause massive disruption.  Borders of kingdoms, duchies and baronies moved back and forth depending who was in the king’s favor or who had won a recent battle with a neighboring realm.

In medieval chess image was everything. It was a game of strategy but it also reflected the ideals of the medieval mind. Just as every human society does, they longed for stability and security, always an elusive quality in human existence. I can imagine that the nobility who used chess sets such as this imagined themselves as the masters of the universe, commanding the loyalty of millions, but in reality they were always struggling for control of what they thought was theirs.

Napkin Rings and Nostalgia

I grew up in Meriden, Connecticut, once the home of International Silver Company, known around the world for quality silverware of all sorts. International was divided up and sold in the early 1970’s and Meriden has never recovered from the loss of its largest private employer. I browse in antique shops occasionally and sometimes see items that were made in Meriden. Part of my family founded Meriden Britannia Company, one of the companies that formed International Silver in the 1890’s, and I often see Meriden Britannia items, and pick them up for my collection if they are affordable.

Meriden was in its heyday at that time. Just about everything was made there, from player pianos to silver teapots, bench vises, bronze art deco plaques, fancy desk lamps and curtain rods. When I look at my odd collection of Meriden items I think about what the city must have been like. There were people from a number of different countries, recruited from their parts of Europe because of their particular skills. Their descendants still live in Meriden.

Many feel that Meriden’s past was the best that it will ever be. A lot of people have moved away, including me, never to return. But for the people who still live there it is their home, and they have all the hope in the world that Meriden will become a good place to live again.

My purpose here is not just to tell you about my home town. It is to think about the past in relation to the present and future. It is always tempting to look at the past of any aspect of our lives, our families, church and community and wish that things would be like they were in the past. Nostalgia is an addictive drug when indulged in too frequently. I have often thought that the way to make things more like the past is to move into the future. In the case of my hometown, it’s unlikely that anyone will be making silver napkin rings such as the example from Meriden Britannia that I’m looking at right now. But, the institutions that served the population of Meriden, the clubs, schools, churches and neighborhood groups of various sorts can be recast to fit the realities of today. We can’t wish the past to come back no matter how fervently we wish for it. What we can do is look at the present, realistically look at the resources we have available and apply those resources to wherever we feel God is calling us to do so. We are surrounded by opportunities to serve God by serving our neighbors. God calls us to work at discerning our mission wherever we are, celebrating the past but purposely looking to the future, knowing that God will be there already.

It's all in the eyes

The icon of the week is my copy of an Ethiopian triptych. A triptych is a three-part painting, sometimes hinged, sometimes not. This image dates from around the seventeenth century, although Ethiopian paintings can sometimes be hard to date.

I was drawn to this image because I like Ethiopian religious art. This icon has an almost cartoonish quality to it, which is not to downplay its significance or its impact

The eyes are the most noticeable feature of these figures, especially the eyes of Mary in the center panel. This is typical of Ethiopian art. In much of African art, Christian or otherwise, the head is the most prominent feature, often depicted out of proportion to the body of the person. It may be that the head and face are emphasized since the face is the most distinct feature of a person. Perhaps the eyes, the most expressive part of the face, are made larger for the same reason.

Our eyes can speak very clearly, often more clearly than our words. Through our eyes we can express sadness, joy, confusion, pain, delight, and a whole range of emotions. The famous quote, “The eye is the window to the soul” is attributed to Shakespeare and many other authors, but it doesn’t matter who said it. It’s true. We communicate so much through out eyes. They don’t lie.

Perhaps these figures have large eyes in order to communicate. They express the greatness of the truth that they witness, that they experience.
. In the left wing, the resurrected Christ at the top stands with his hands upraised, surrounded by saints or apostles. A military saint, possibly St. Demetrius, is on a horse at the lower left corner. In the right wing, the crucifixion is depicted at the top, again with saints or apostles below. At the bottom another military saint, possibly St. George, is mounted on a horse with a spear.

What If God Was One of Us?

The icon of the week beginning tomorrow is Jesus' baptism by John the Baptist. This event appears in all four gospels but each account is different. Only Mark and Matthew say that John actually baptizes Jesus. Luke and John indicate he was baptized by only indirectly hint at who did it.

The word "baptize" comes from the Greek word baptidzo, meaning to immerse. Dyeing cloth, for instance, was baptizing or immersing it in the dye.

I like to think that Jesus' baptism not only marks the beginning of Jesus' ministry but it also makes a statement. Jesus immersed himself in our existence, with all its messiness and trouble.

A number of years ago a singer that I'm not familiar with, Joan Osborne, recorded a song entitled "What If God Was One Of Us." I won't reprint all the lyrics, but this text asks the basic question--what IF God was one of us?

What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make Its way home

God was indeed one of us, made real in the Incarnation, signified by Jesus' baptism.

Icon of the Week: St. John Climacus

This week’s icon is an early twelfth century depiction of St. John Climacus’ “Ladder of Divine Ascent.” The original, shown here, is in the Holy Monastery of St. Catherine at Mt. Sinai.

The Monastery of St. Catharine is a treasure house by any standard. Because it is in a remote setting in the Sinai peninsula it has avoided the ravages of war. It has been continuously occupied since the fourth century. Within its walls is one of the largest collections of icons in the world, numbering around four thousand. They date from the mid-fifth to the eighteenth century. Among them is the oldest icon of Jesus, and a number of others that survived the periods of iconoclasm in the eighth and ninth centuries when the Byzantine emperor Leo III ordered all icons in the empire destroyed. The icons of Mt. Sinai survived because the monastery was in a Moslem region. The monastery is also known for its world class collection of ancient biblical and religious manuscripts. Their collection is second only to the collection in the Vatican.

The theme of wilderness draws me to this icon along with the dramatic imagery of monks trying to climb the ladder toward a higher spiritual life while demons try to drag them down into destruction. For St. John Climacus the cares and temptations of the world would threaten to distract us from our journey up this ladder where Christ awaits us at the top. At the lower right corner a group of monks cheer on those who are climbing the ladder. I don’t know if they are waiting their turn or if they have already arrived. At the upper left corner a choir of angels looks on.

This image of angels and saints encouraging us on reminds me of the concept of the Church Triumphant, that part of the church which has already passed on. I take great comfort that the saints of the past pray for us and encourage us on as we climb that ladder.

Icon of the Week: St. Jerome

I’m behind on posting pictures of the icon of the week. Last week it was Fra Angelico’s “Penitent St. Jerome, painted in the early 15th century. The picture here is of the original which is now in the Princeton University Art Museum.

Jerome was born in what is now Bosnia in 347 AD. He was drawn to the study of the classics and went to Rome as a young man to further his studies. While he was in Rome he was a typical college student, partying and the like. He went on an extended tour of the Middle East, studying in Alexandria, Antioch, Constantinople, and then back to Rome. He eventually became convinced that his lifestyle was in conflict with his faith and spent some time in the wilderness in repentance. This period in his life became a favorite subject for artists in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Jerome is depicted in a wilderness scene in prayer, reading, or  beating his chest with a stone, as Fra Angelico depicts him here.

An image of Jerome that became popular in the later Middle Ages and the Renaissance is St. Jerome in his study. Jerome was the consummate scholar, and in these paintings he is shown as a Renaissance scholar, often wearing the red robe and hat of a cardinal. For Jerome this is anachronistic since the office of cardinal did not exist in the Roman Catholic Church during his lifetime. He is often portrayed with a lion, as tradition has it that he pulled a thorn from a lion’s paw. Sometimes the lion is shown sleeping on his study floor!

Eventually Jerome settled in as a hermit in Bethlehem, traditionally occupying a cell underneath the Church of the Nativity. When I was in the Holy Land four years ago I had the chance to see the cell from the outside, but since it is now a chapel a mass was in progress and I didn’t want to interrupt it.

Jerome is held in the highest regard for his literary output, most notably the  Latin Vulgate, the translation of the entire Bible in Latin. He probably didn’t do it all from scratch. Many scholars think that he had Latin translations of sections to begin with and he revised those sections and translated the rest. The Vulgate was the standard translation of the Bible for more than a thousand years.

I am drawn to this image of Jerome mostly because of the image of wilderness. The theme of wilderness is very prominent in the Scriptures and in Christian thought in general. The wilderness is a place for reflection and prayer. Lent is a good time to consider Jerome as a guide in the wilderness.

Icons for Contemplation During Lent

Lent is a time to slow down and work on our relationship with God and each other. We’ll have some opportunities for working on our relationship with God. The labyrinth will return during the first week of March. It will be available in the Fellowship Hall from Tuesday morning through Thursday night. I will return it to the New Hampshire Conference office on Friday. There will be evening hours until 8 PM all three nights. As we did last year there will be a basket of stones available. You will be invited to select a stone which you can carry with you as you walk the labyrinth, and leave the stone in the center. A number of people came several times. There’s no limit as to how many times you can walk it.

The other opportunity for reflection will be offered in the Chapel. Each Sunday morning I will have a new icon of the week which will stay in the Chapel for the week. Any time the church is open and there isn’t another activity in the Chapel you will be welcome to come and practice contemplative prayer using the icon. During Holy Week I will have several different icons during the week depending on the specific day. This will go through the second Sunday of Easter, April 12.

Contemplative prayer is the practice of simply sitting with a thought, a word or an image and reflecting on it as you look at it. This may sound simplistic, but as you focus on the image you will find that other thoughts and worries will recede to the background. If you have been to a Harmonic Healing event it can be the same sort of feeling, a feeling of release from your worries and challenges.

I realize that icons are not a traditional part of the Protestant tradition. I offer this as an alternative way to work on your relationship with God. Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions have preserved and nurtured the use of images in prayer. The instinctive Protestant reaction is that images can easily become idols, which is true. That doesn’t mean that idolatry is inevitable with the use of images in prayer. If you focus on the deeper meaning that an image conveys rather than the image itself you will find yourself transported beyond the image to the reality it represents. That is why an icon is often referred to as a window.

I have found that painting icons is a wonderful vehicle for contemplative prayer. I reflect on the subject as I paint and I find that I am able to push away all the concerns and worries that try to crowd in. The icons that I will have in the chapel this Lent are all copies that I have painted.

At first I had to overcome the hurdle of idolatry before I was able to appreciate iconography for what it is, a vehicle for prayer. I have always known what icons are, but I didn't have a clue as to how they could enhance my prayer life. The faith that I grew up in was intellectually oriented. Prayer was seen as a practice of the mind. I have found richness in the invitation to prayer through the contemplation of images. Many Protestants have experienced this invitation and taken up the use of icons in prayer as the older boundaries between Protestantism and other branches of Christianity have eroded. There is much more appreciation for the traditions of other branches of the Christian church than there has ever been.

Each week I will post the icon that will be available in the chapel.

Being Thankful for Teachers

I am often reminded of the gifts I have been given--gifts both large and small. Today I think in particular of two of my seminary professors. One of them, Bill Holladay, taught Old Testament. He is still active at the age of about 90, although he has retired from teaching. I am reminded of him whenever a text from the Book of Jeremiah appears in the Revised Common Lectionary. Jeremiah was his specialty.

While I was in seminary (1980-86) Prof. Holladay was writing what is now considered the definitive commentary on the Book of Jeremiah. It was at a time when home computers were in their early stage of development. Laptops didn’t exist at that time. I don’t remember what he had for a computer, but I remember him telling our Old Testament class how his son had developed a word processing program that allowed him to type in Hebrew. That may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but Hebrew is written right to left, and computers compose left to right. I believe the message of hope in Jeremiah was what attracted him to this particular book in the first place. Writing a commentary on a book of the Bible can take decades, and I know he worked on it for many years. I have a set of the two volume work, and I use them whenever I preach on a text from Jeremiah.

I also have thought lately of another seminary professor, George Peck. A native of Australia, he was the dean and later the president at Andover Newton, and taught theology. He was a missionary in India for many years. He was a proponent of the theology of Karl Barth, a German theologian who dared to stand up to the Nazi regime in the years previous to World War II. Barth eventually moved to Switzerland to escape the Nazi government, and spent the rest of his life there. During his career he wrote a multi-volume work entitled “Church Dogmatics.” I have recently completed my collection of all fourteen volumes, and have started reading. It will probably take a few years but it will be worth it. It’s like being in school again.

George died very suddenly only a few years after I graduated from seminary. He was only 60 years old as I recall. For years my daughter has remembered his fondness for small children, since he didn’t have grandchildren of his own. I remember more than once seeing him carrying around a small child of one of the students at the Christmas party that he and his wife always held in the President’s house.

I often think of the debt I owe to many people who were my teachers. We all have had important teachers in our lives, whether they were teachers in public school, Sunday School, sports coaches, family members or neighbors. It is a good thing to express gratitude for our teachers. I can’t contact George because he is no longer with us, but I have gotten Bill’s address from Andover Newton and plan to write him a note of thanks. He taught many students over the years, and I doubt he will remember me, but I am sure he will appreciate my taking the time to thank him for his work that still has value and that lives on in his writings.

Tibetan Singing Bowls: A Way to Contemplation

I've been playing Tibetan singing bowls for about ten years. I first discovered them an a SERRV display at the New York Conference annual meeting, and bought one. I still have it although it doesn't get as much use as it once did. Immediately I realized the potential for using a singing bowl for meditation. Over the span of several years I purchased enough to have a wide variety of bowls.

I discovered right away that singing bowls will produce a relaxing sound that can aid meditation. After a good deal of research I found that not much is know about their use in Tibet. Unfortunately, the Chinese occupation of Tibet has resulted in a cultural genocide. Most Tibetans have fled to India, Bhutan, or Nepal, including the Dalai Lama. Recovering the original use of these bowls may never happen, but certainly it is related to the sound they produce.

Since I started using singing bowls I have been offering what I call "Harmonic Healing" sessions once a month. South Church is blessed with a fellowship hall that has wonderful acoustics which make for an ideal room for this. I've developed a following in the area. When we lived in New York I offered these sessions at an addiction treatment center once a month. The residents were usually receptive and got a lot out of my time with them.

A singing bowl is made of bronze and is a upside-down bell. They range in size from just a few inches in diameter to twenty inches or more. My largest bowl is a modern bowl that is just under eighteen inches in diameter and has a deep, rumbling sound when played. To play a singing bowl I use a wooden mallet to tap it, or a wooden stick to rub around the outside. Once I am playing a bowl it will vibrate at a specific pitch, often producing more than one tone at once. When I play them in groups I am able to create a tapestry of different tones that will ease the listener into a state of relaxed contemplation that can have a profound effect. Recently a woman who had been struggling with thoughts of suicide came to one of my sessions and went away with her head clear and feeling as though she had gotten a new perspective on life.

John the Baptist: A Guide in the Wilderness

Over my desk I have several icons.  I switch some of them out a couple of times a year, but one that always stays in the same place is a copy I painted of an icon of John the Baptist, the original of which dates from around 1300 AD and is in the British Museum. It is small, less than a foot high, but the image is intense.  John looks straight at the viewer. With his hair disheveled he wears a reddish-orange tunic and a greenish-blue cloak. His left hand holds a scroll while his right hand is raised in blessing.

John the Baptist is portrayed in Eastern iconography as being emaciated and wearing ragged clothing, reflecting the description of him in the gospels. John is portrayed with wild hair--quite a contrast to Jesus, who is always portrayed with every hair in place. Depending on the inclination of the artist, John's rumpled clothing can be quite striking. One icon shows John wearing an outer garment that can only be described as a blue tablecloth that has unraveled quite a bit at the edges.

 I have painted a number of icons of John, the originals dating from 600 to 1500 AD. He is one of my favorite characters in the New Testament. I find it unfortunate that in the church year John is relegated to the beginning of Lent and Advent. We don't see him during the rest of the year. He appears sporadically in the gospels--in Mark and John he is at the very beginning, preparing the way for Jesus. In Matthew  he appears after the Christmas story, and in Luke his birth precedes the birth of Jesus. With all the differences among the four gospels John appears at the beginning of Jesus' ministry to baptize him, although the gospels vary on the details. John appears again when he condemns King Herod for marrying his brother's wife, and Herod imprisons him. As we all know, John meets his end when Salome asks Herod for the head of John the Baptist in return for an exotic dance.

Jesus had a strong connection to John. It is quite possible that Jesus was a disciple of John before he went out on his own. Several times in the gospels Jesus compares John to the prophet Elijah, a comparison the gospel writers take into account when describing John's appearance.

 In Orthodox Christianity John is called the "Forerunner" instead of "the Baptist" because he comes before Jesus and prepares for his coming. In an Orthodox deesis, or row of icons of Jesus and apostles and saints, John occupies the spot to Jesus' left, while Mary is on the right. They are closest to Jesus because they were the first to recognize him for who he was.

John's icon in my office, and the other icons of him I have painted, remind me of God's presence in the wilderness, whatever the wilderness may be. John is a good guide for the wilderness-- he knew it well. I'd recommend John as a companion in the wilderness. He wasn't much to look at, but he knew his way around the neighborhood.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is one of our best-known poets. He composed poems that have become a part of national consciousness such as “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” “Paul Revere’s Ride,” and “The Song of Hiawatha,” and many others. He had a reputation as a kind, calm, gentle person, yet many who met him did not realize the tragedy that filled much of his life.

Longfellow was born in Maine but moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts as a young man. He joined the faculty of Harvard University where he taught until 1854. By that point he was earning enough income from his published writings that he no longer needed the income from Harvard.

Longfellow’s first wife, Mary, died in 1835 from complications after a miscarriage after only four years of marriage. He did not marry again until a number of years later. His second wife, Frances, died in 1861 after her dress caught fire in their home. Wadsworth attempted to put out the fire and his face was badly burned. This prompted him to grow a beard to hide the scars. Anyone familiar with Longfellow will immediately think of his bushy white beard and hair. His health also caused him physical pain. He suffered from neuralgia, which caused constant pain.

A quote attributed to Longfellow, although I cannot find the source is this: “If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.” He certainly had more than his share of tragedy, and his secret history was full of pain. After his second wife’s death he became more reclusive and suffered from depression which colored the rest of his life until his death in 1882.  He occasionally resorted to laudanum and ether to get through.

This isn’t meant to be a literary article, however. The point is that each person has experienced pain in his or her life, and each of us carries the scars with us each day. Nobody likes to reveal all of that, however, and it sometimes is easy to assume that they do not carry any emotional burdens because a person is not verbal about them.

It’s important to take this into account when encountering others. Each one of us knows what we ourselves live with, but we don’t always see the “secret history” that the other person carries around. If we could read those secret histories we might be more sympathetic of the other person’s burdens.

There is more to every one of us that what meets the eye. Remembering this will enrich our lives together tremendously.

The Simple Ways of Ministry

A famous quote attributed to the film director Woody Allen is “Ninety percent of success is just showing up,” or some variation on that. After spending a couple of minutes poking around online I found that the quote actually is "Showing up is eighty percent of life." What he meant by that, he said in a later interview, was that actually doing something rather than simply dreaming about it was what was important in life.

I thought of this recently at a local nursing home service. At this particular nursing home I don’t usually have a large group, perhaps seven or eight at best. This particular day two women were there. They are usually at the service. Both of them seem to be dementia patients, and appear to have been active in a church in their younger years. One was Roman Catholic, the other (I believe) Episcopalian. We sat around a table, just the three of us, and we sang a familiar hymn, “In the Garden.” That seems to be a nursing home favorite. I believe I have all three verses memorized. I said a prayer, read a scripture passage and then shared communion with them before saying another prayer and singing another familiar hymn, “Blessed Assurance.” It’s a good thing I can sing reasonably well, because at these services I’m sometimes the only person singing. That wasn’t the case this particular day, however. At some services some of the residents seem completely non-responsive. When we sign a familiar hymn, I will often see a couple of people mouthing the words to the hymn. Music has a very strange way of reaching a person who for any number of reasons is not able to communicate with others.

This brief devotional service wasn’t terribly profound, but it meant a great deal to these two women. It reminded me that ministry doesn’t always have to be complicated. Sometimes, simply taking the time to be there is what matters the most. Showing up.

These services are the most ecumenical activity I engage in during the week. At every service I do there is a diversity of denominations represented—Roman Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, UCC, and others. Rarely does anyone decline taking communion because I am not a priest or pastor in their denomination. They understand the common nature of faith. For my part, I have gained a broader perspective. At one of these services someone always addresses me as “Father.” Years ago I resisted it,out of fear that people might think I was pretending to be something I’m not. I’ve come to see being called “Father” as a title of respect, and of trust. When someone calls me “Father” I feel as though they are saying that they trust me.

It took me a long time to learn that ministry can take place in very simple ways. Jesus defines it in recognizing that where two or three are gathered, there he is also. (Matthew 18:20) What we do to minister to others in Christ’s name doesn’t have to be elaborate or expensive. Just showing up is a very good start, and it may be enough.