Tuesday, December 27, 2011

What Should A Christian Call The End Of This Life?

"I do not think the the end of this present life is rightly called death.  More accurately, it is deliverance from death, separation from corruption, liberation from slavery, cessation of turbulence, destruction of wars, dispelling of darkness, rest from suffering, calming of turmoil, eclipsing of shame, escape from passions and, to sum it up, the termination of all evils. The saints who have achieved these things through voluntary mortification live as strangers and pilgrims in this life (Heb.11:13), fighting bravely against the world and the body and the assaults stemming from them. And, having stifled the deceit which both of these engender because of the close connection existing between the senses and sensible objects, they keep the dignity of their soul unenslaved."

The Philokalia Vol 2 pg 278

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

If It Isn't Truth, It's A House Of Cards!


The Sadducees had an objection to the resurrection, which seemed to them irresolvable; but the Lord resolved it so clearly in several words that everyone understood and acknowledged the Sadducees as conquered by the truth of His word (Luke 20:27–40). What then were [called] Sadducees are now unbelievers of all sorts. They have heaped up for themselves a multitude of fantasised suppositions, set them forth as irrefutable truths, and magnify themselves with them, supposing that there is nothing to say against them. In reality they are so empty, that there is no point in speaking against them. All of their philosophizing is a house of cards: blow on it and it will scatter. There is no need to refute them in each part; it is enough to relate to them as to dreams. When speaking against dreams, people do set not about proving any incongruity in composition or in the parts of a dream; they simply say, “It is a dream”—and that says it all. Such precisely is the theory of the formation of the world from cloudy spots, with its props—the theory of spontaneous origination, of the Darwinian origin of genus and species, with his latest fantasy about the origin of man. It is all like the delirium of a sleeping man. Reading them, you walk in the midst of shadows. And scientists? What can you do with them? Their motto is: do not listen if you do not want to, but do not hinder us from telling lies.

St, Theophan the Recluse

Monday, December 19, 2011

A Picture of Evil


Once upon a time, there was a king. This king wished that his people know what evil was, so that his people could learn to recognize and flee from it. He issued a summons, that, in a year, all of his artists should come to him with one picture, to show what was evil. The best picture would be displayed to the people.

In a year, they all appeared at the king's palace. There were very few artists in the kingdom, but those who were there were very skillful, and worked as they had never worked before. Each brought a picture beneath a shroud.
The king turned to the first artist who had come. "Jesse, unveil your picture, and tell us its interpretation."
Jesse lifted the cloth. Against a background of blackened skulls was a dark green serpent, the color of venom and poison, with eyes that glowed red. "Your Majesty, it was the Serpent whose treacherous venom deceived man to eat of the forbidden fruit. The eye is the lamp of the body, and the Serpent's eye burns with the fires of Hell. You see that beyond the Serpent are skulls. Evil ensnares unto death and outer darkness."
The court murmured its approval. The picture was striking, and spoke its lesson well. The king, also, approved. "Well done, Jesse. If another picture is chosen, it will not be because you have done poorly. Now, Gallio, please show us your work."
Gallio unveiled his painting. In it was a man, his face red and veins bulging from hate. In his hand, he held a curved dagger. He was slowly advancing towards a woman, cowering in fear. "Your Majesty, man is created in the image of God, and human life is sacred. Thus the way we are to love God is often by loving our neighbor. There are few blasphemies more unholy than murder. You have asked me for a picture to show what evil is, that your subjects may flee from it. This is evil to flee from."
The court again murmured its approval, and the king began to shift slightly. It was not, as some supposed, because of the repellent nature of the pictures, but because he had secretly hoped that there would be only one good picture. Now, it was evident that the decision would not be so simple. "Gallio, you have also done well. And Simon, your picture?"
Simon unveiled his picture, and people later swore that they could smell a stench. There, in the picture, was the most hideous and misshapen beast they had ever seen. Its proportions were distorted, and its colors were ghastly. The left eye was green, and taller than it was wide. The right eye was even larger than the left, red, bloodshot, and flowing with blood; where there should have been a pupil, a claw grotesquely protruded. It was covered with claws, teeth, fur, scales, blood, slime, tentacles, and bits of rotted flesh; several members of the court excused themselves. "However it may be disguised, evil is that which is sick, distorted, and ugly."
There was a long silence. Finally, the king spoke again. "I see that there are three powerful pictures of evil, any one of which is easily a masterpiece and well fit to show to the people. Barak, I know that you have been given artistic genius, and that perhaps your picture will help me with this difficult decision. Unveil your picture."
Barak unveiled his picture, and an awestruck hush fell over the court. There, unveiled, was the most beautiful picture they had ever seen.
The picture was in the great vault of a room in a celestial palace. It was carved of diamond, emerald, ruby, jasper, amethyst, sardonyx, and chrysolite. Through the walls of gem, the stars shone brightly. But all of this was nothing, compared to the creature in the room.
He carried with him power and majesty. He looked something like a man, but bore glory beyond intense. His face shone like the sun blazing in full force, his eyes flashed like lightning, and his hair like radiant flame. He wore a robe that looked as if it had been woven from solid light. In his left hand was a luminous book, written in letters of gold, and in his right hand was a sharp, double edged sword, sheathed in fire and lightning.
The king was stunned. It took him a long time to find words, and then he shouted with all of his might.
"You fool! I ask you for a picture of evil, and you bring me this! It is true that fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and that, like unthinking beasts, they do not hesitate to slander the glorious ones. What do you have to say for yourself and for this picture? I shall have an explanation now, or I shall have your head!"
Barak looked up, a tear trickling down his cheek. "Your Majesty, do you not understand? It is a picture of Satan."