Chalcedon feels like a guilty pleasure...

Over lunch I browsed the stacks in the Rutherford Library at the University of Alberta. It is one of the reasons I love working on campus. (For those of you who don't know, I am employed by Athabasca University, but work fully integrated into a Government of Alberta branch, helping to protect historic buildings and other cultural landscapes). I came across this new, three-volume, critical edition of The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon. It is beautifully done. I waded in briefly to the first few pages of the proceedings of this Council, and the translation reads elegantly, conjuring up what it must have felt like, eight days before the Ides of October, 451, when the bishops and imperial officials gathered together in the Church of the holy martyr Euphemia. I have to admit, it is almost like a soap opera, with the degree of drama the opening ceremonies of the Council experienced: accusations of murder, threats, and thwarted egos. And in the midst of it, the two Natures of the Incarnate One are revealed. I feel like a fly on the wall. I want to linger.

Our friend Ryan Szarko made these icon-printed t-shirts and gave them as gifts to me, for being the sponsor for his chrismation, and also to Krista, Fr. Phillip, and Fr. Dennis for their encouragement along the way. We've really enjoyed getting to know Ryan this past year since he wandered into St. Herman's for the Litya of Palm Sunday Vespers last year. He is a multi-talented, all-around good guy, who, in addition to creating these wearable holy images is finishing his Master's in Speech Pathology, is an accomplished musician, and also teaches aquasize!

Here you can see Krista's shirt picturing St. Seraphim of Sarov during his thousand days of prayer on the rock.




And here's yours truly, wearing the image of St. John the Baptist and Forerunner, which was very fitting since I'm currently reading Bulgakov's book on St. John, Friend of the Bridegroom.

Thanks, Ryan, for these thoughtful gifts.

Holy Books: Is Religion the Problem?

Clarion is running this essay by my friend, David Goa. Well worth a read with regard to the politicization of various holy texts. Here's an excerpt:

"Two opposing views — the evangelical-literalist perspective for the understanding of the Bible and the liberal-modernist perspective for the understanding of the Bible — have shaped public discourse in North America almost entirely and still largely do. They have influenced, although in not as marked a way, European public discourse as well. What seems to have escaped most of us is that they were born together. They are co-dependent twins. They need each other for their own identity. It is so with all neuroses. Literalists like to see the modernists as the firstborn. They must battle with them for a recovery of a living, engaged faith. Modernists like to see the literalists as the firstborn. They must battle with them for a recovery of reason. My sense is that each of them sees the other as a scapegoat for the problems of modernity. Here is one of the taproots of religious fundamentalism and secular fundamentalism in North America."

Beyond Issue 15

I wait with bated breath for Beyond Issue 15. Two seasons have passed since I interviewed Nelofer Pazira for this luminescent Canadian magazine, and now the cover has been unveiled.

Carve out a few hours of leisure and go read this. The Ochlophobist is the new Josef Pieper.

Mount Cheam by E.J. Hughes, 1913-2007

This is the mountain you see from my parents' kitchen window. Of course, this is more the Agassiz view of Cheam than the Chilliwack view. Rest in peace, E.J. Hughes.

H2O and the Waters of Remembrance

This past weekend I walked with Krista along the banks of frozen Lac Beauvert. {At least, it was mainly frozen. Every once in a while we would hear sharp rumbling noises as the ice cleaved and cracked.} We were there as guests of Krista’s parents, who had brought us to the venerable Jasper Park Lodge, as a generous family Christmas gift. It was here, over a weekend when we remember the renewal of all creation in Christ – commemorated by the blessing of water – that I had the chance to reflect upon the goodness of the past two weeks.

We were out in BC for ten days with family and friends: carols with my Mom and Dad, Vancouver with Kim, Deep Cove with Ryan Wugalter and my good old friend Erik Hermans (who I haven't seen in years), walks at Cultus Lake with the Lanteignes, and, of course the Jordans' epic New Years’ party. It was a Psalm 133-type of holiday, in that the goodness of simply being together broke up most of the clouds of gloom that often attempts to haunt holidays with family and friends.


Krista and I skipping stones with Amy and our Godson Owen Lanteigne at Cultus Lake.

It is intriguing to me how much of our liturgical worship focuses on water. Not surprisingly, most of the 32 readings for Theophany are entirely centred upon images of water. Likewise each Vespers (for the day begins at sundown) lifts up Psalm 104, rehearsing how God provides water for all of His Creation. From each of our own places of imprisonment we have been offered a "way out," literally an exodos through "water and the spirit."

Some years ago, Ivan Illich wrote a compelling essay entitled "H2O and the Waters of Forgetfulness." in which he contrasts mere "H2O" to the allusive element we call "water." His argument highlighted our constant temptation to reduce the good through comodification. In myth and Scripture, water takes on a much more potent, and polyvalent meaning than simply its chemical ingredients. In Genesis, as in Gilgamesh, water stands for chaos. But it is also charged with holiness as it close to death and life. It is the void out of which dry land is redeemed. The sea usually takes on this chaotic character. It is wild, untamable and free. Rivers are places of transformation - often cleansing and healing (think of the Jordan River or the River that flows through the New Jerusalem). This year, storms compromised the city of Vancouver's water, forcing millions to change their daily routines and stand in temporary solidarity with those for whom clean water is a luxury.

So I raise a glass (of water) to our dear friends and family near and far. With the Feast!