Phos hilaron

A central element of vespers in eastern and western Christian traditions is the ancient hymn phos hilaron, which as Robert Taft notes in his history of daily prayer was already considered ancient at the time of St. Basil. It is a hymn of praise sung at the lighting of the evening lamp - a custom rooted in both Jewish and pagan practice in antiquity.

When I lived in the United States it was difficult to appreciate the joy the hymn expresses at the coming of the light. The evenings in the part of the country I lived in were never really dark enough in the early evening to view the kindling of the evening light as anything other than a liturgical gesture - important, but one with a certain abstract quality.

That's changed since I came to live in Finland. When it gets pitch-dark in the late afternoons at this time of year, lighting candles is more than a gesture - the act brings joy and relief to the oppressive dark.

Now if we can only somehow connect these two realities in the church's teaching here . . .

Tuesday

It's fascinating to read the commentary of St. Maximos on the Lord's Prayer, to see the way in which he manages to squeeze an entire theological tradition into the compass of what is really a brief treatise. It inspires me to go back and see which Syriac authors penned commentaries on the Lord's Prayer.

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Just a postscript to say that I've decided to go ahead and apply for the position. Again, I appreciate very very much everyone's thoughts on this matter.

thank you, part 2

Thank you again to all who responded to my question, both at the end of last week and over the weekend. I'm giving myself one more day to ponder things. I'm hoping to respond to comments over the next couple of days. It's been fall break here, and we've got a sick kid at home right now.

I was reading last night the commentary on the Lord's Prayer of St. Maximos the Confessor (English translation in Palmer, Sherrard and Ware, The Philokalia, volume 2, pp. 285-305). I'm interested in interpretations of the clause in the prayer about forgiveness. Maximos interestingly links forgiveness with the unity of human nature and the unity of the human will. He says:

... just as God dispassionately forgives His creatures, so such a person [who prays for 'the incorruptible bread of wisdom'] must himself remain dispassionate in the face of what happens to him and forgive those who offend him. He must not allow the memory of things that afflict him to be stamped on his intellect lest he inwardly sunders human nature by separating himself from some other man, although he is a man himself. When a man's will is in union with the principle of nature in this way, God and nature are naturally reconciled; but, failing such a union, our nature remains self-divided in its will and cannot receive God's gift of Himself. (Palmer, et. al., The Philokalia, p. 301).

Note how Maximos speaks of coming to forgive someone as a kind of return to one's true nature. There are also links here with Maximos's Christological teaching, for which he suffered a great deal.

thank you

Many many thanks to all who gave their thoughts on my question yesterday. I appreciate it a lot!

I'm going to take the weekend to think about it further, and decide by Monday morning.

Have a good weekend!

advice?

Dear Readers,

I find myself at something of a crossroads, and I would welcome any advice you can give me.

A position in Eastern Orthodox practical theology has opened up in the university here at which I used to teach.

Do I apply for it or not?

I have been an acting professor of church history there before, for three years. And a replacement lecturer in Orthodox systematic theology for one year.

I began teaching theology at the postgraduate level in 1993. My field is history of Christian liturgy and asceticism. I have interests and expertise  in other areas as well: patristics, systematic theology, comparative religion, ascetical theology, historical theology, ecumenical theology.

When I applied for a permanent professor's position in church history at this university one of the criticisms of my application was that my field was really practical theology and not church history.

I am a good teacher, a good lecturer. I have not published anything since leaving that university in 2007. I haven't been able to find an academic position in my field since 2007.  I still have a passion for teaching and research.

I have been the head of the Eastern Orthodox theological house in Cambridge, England, and I've been an affiliated lecturer in the Faculty of Divinity at the University of Cambridge.  I have studied at Harvard, Oxford, and the University of Notre Dame.

My Finnish is good enough for everyday life; I do not realistically think I can lecture in Finnish right now. I could well be able to if I were to focus on my spoken Finnish.

To be honest, my experience of two previous applications for a permanent position here has led me to the conclusion that at least in theology there are considerations and interests beyond the academic and scholarly that ultimately lead to a candidate's being chosen for an academic position here. I am pessimistic at best about my chances.

I'm genuinely torn about what to do.  Thanks for your help.

 

 

Philokalia

I've begun reading the Philokalia again, right now Mark the Ascetic's On the Spiritual Law: Two Hundred Texts.

more about unbiblical dads

Apart from begging the question of what counts as a "biblical" view of fatherhood or male gender roles, saying that being a stay-at-home dad is "unbiblical" stretches biblical exegesis beyond the breaking point.