Presently

We live in the ever-fleeting present.

As I type out the letters of the words in this sentence, each letter displays on the page, yet the action of typing each one recedes increasingly to the past. With each keystroke, previous strokes become further and further distant.

How can we graphically represent the present?

Imagine a number line. To the left of 0 (zero) are negative numbers, and to its right are positive numbers. Positive numbers indicate the future, negative the past. You and I are on zero on this ever-moving number line. We remain perpetually on zero—in the present.

We are never in the past or in the future. We may presently reminisce about the past or presently ponder the future. But we are always in the present—on zero.

God is omnipresent, everywhere present. There is nowhere God is not.

Omnipresence implies omnitemporality. In other words, God is not only everywhere present, God has been and will always be omnipresent. Thus, God is omnitemporal. God has been and will be omnipresent for all time. God exists omnitemporally.

God exists at everyplace on the number line all the time!

And the Word Became Flesh

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us—Emmanuel, God with us. Some beheld Jesus’ glory. All will someday behold His glory.

He is full of grace and truth. To all those who receive Him—to those believing in Jesus’ name—He gives authority to become God’s children. Grace and truth comes through Jesus Christ.

God with us. Christ with us.

Christ with me.

Ambiguous Signs

While driving the other day I saw this sign:

HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPING CONVICTS

Given that there is a ‘corrections’ facility nearby, this probably means, “Hitchhikers may be escapees from prison.” The word ESCAPING is functioning as an adjective—specifically, an adjectival participle—modifying the noun CONVICTS. Therefore, it means:

HITCHHIKERS MAY BE CONVICTS THAT ARE ESCAPING

But the way the sign is written, ESCAPING could be interpreted as a verb rather than the intended adjective:

HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPING FROM CONVICTS

This places an entirely different meaning over what was intended!

Should those responsible for creating this sign see this blog post, I hope they are convicted . . . of their unintended ambiguity. That is, I hope the writers would come under conviction for their imprecise wording. Making one minor change would alleviate the ambiguity:

HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPED CONVICTS

If convicts are hitchhiking, they have already escaped! So, changing the adjectival participle from present (-ing) to past (-ed) would convey the message properly.

Praising Polysemy

But sometimes ambiguity is intentionally employed as a linguistic device to enrich a text. It can take the form of polysemy, in which a text plays on a particular word’s myriad shades of meanings (also known as multivalence). Our Scriptures contain quite a few instances of such. An example is in John 1:5:¹

1:₁ In the beginning the Word existed, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ₂ He was in the beginning with God. ₃ Through Him all things came to be, and without Him not even one thing came to be that has come to be. ₄ In Him was life, and that life was the Light of humanity. ₅ The Light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness did not apprehend [katelaben] it.

D. A. Carson calls 1:5 “a masterpiece of planned ambiguity”.² A newcomer to John’s Gospel may only see the creation event of Genesis 1-2 here. But, of course, the Gospel writer intends much more than that.³

The final verb katelaben [aorist active indicative form] is a compound word consisting of the preposition kata and the verb lambanō. The former means ~down, the latter take or receive. But as with many words prefixed with a preposition, the resulting word acquires intensification and an additional nuance. Its basic definition is grasp, as in either hostile (seize) or non-hostile (secure), though, alternatively, it can carry the idea of mental grasping (perceive).⁴ Danker asserts that the writer in this context intends the combined “sense of grasp as seize and comprehend.”⁵ The translation “apprehend” above is an attempt to capture this perceived polysemy.

On first reading, one could understand all of 1:1-5 cosmologically, such that the darkness of Genesis 1:2 would not overcome the light of Genesis 1:3. But after having read through John’s Gospel, a subsequent reading of the prologue (John 1:1–18) may prompt the reader to see an allusion to Genesis 3.⁶ More likely, the light/darkness dichotomy exhibited throughout the Gospel will bring the reader to perceive a connection between v. 5 and vv. 10-11.⁷ While the Light continued and continues to shine (imperfective aspect) in order to illuminate the darkness (John 8:12; 9:5), the darkness chose to remain in darkness (John 3:19-21), failing to comprehend the true nature of the Light (John 11:9-10; 12:35-36, 46).⁸ Those in darkness can be brought to the Light through the continuous shining of the Light, but the darkness itself remains.

Continuing in this light (pun intended), the reader can see an illusion to Revelation 12:4: And the dragon [darkness] stood before the woman who was about to give birth [to the Light], so that when she gave birth he might devour her child. Yet despite the dragon’s best efforts, Christmas did come!

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¹ My translation.

² D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, Pillar New Testament Commentary, D. A. Carson, gen. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), p 119. [I am also reminded of one of my favorite lyric lines: well-defined ambiguity (from “Straight Jacket”, written by Mike Watt, as performed and recorded by Minutemen, The Punch Line, SST records, SST-004, 1981.)]

³ Carson, Gospel, states, “it is quite possible that John, subtle writer that he is, wants his readers to see in the Word both the light of creation and the light of the redemption the Word brings in his incarnation” (p 120).

⁴ F. W. Danker, The Concise Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament (Chicago, IL: Chicago, 2009), p 191.

⁵ Ibid; emphasis in original. Cf. Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, two volumes (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, [2003] 2010 [1^st softcover ed.]), p 1.387. Contra, e.g., Andreas J. Köstenberger, Encountering John, Encountering Biblical Studies Series (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1999), p 55, in which the author opines that “overcome” is the primary meaning, though “understand” may be ‘latent’ (my word) in the verse “in preparation of 1:10-11”.

⁶ See Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John I-XII, The Anchor Yale Bible; (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1974), p 8. Under this understanding the aorist κατέλαβεν, katelaben is interpreted as a one-time past event.

⁷ See C. K. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, 2^nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978), p 158.

⁸ See Keener, Gospel of John, pp 1.382-387 for fuller discussion of light, including light as Wisdom and Torah; cf. Brown, John I-XII, pp 519-522.

Thanking God in Failure: Arvo Pärt | Litany | Orient & Occident

“…It was July 25^th, 1976. I was sitting in the [Pühtitsa] monastery’s yard on a bench, in the shadow of the bushes, with my notebook. ‘What are you doing; what are you writing there?’ The girl, who was around ten, asked me. ‘I’m trying to write music, but it’s not turning out well.’ I said. And then the unexpected words from her, ‘Have you thanked God for this failure already?’”¹

During the Soviet control of Estonia, composer Arvo Pärt found himself at odds with Moscow numerous times. One of these occurred with the premiere of his 1968 work Credo, which contains the words (Latin), Credo in Jesum Christum—I believe in Jesus Christ. Consequently, Pärt was unofficially censured. “[T]he composition was hushed up and further performances were banned.”²

The middle section of Credo was structured “to imitate chaos and destruction”, in order to juxtapose an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, with but I say to you, do not resist evil (Matt 5:38–39).³ As Pärt relates, this could have been interpreted as “the collapse of the Soviet regime”.⁴

Tensions increased to the point the composer realized it was becoming economically infeasible to continue in his profession while under Soviet rule.⁵  Shortly thereafter, a ‘recommendation’ prompted him to leave his homeland, as his wife, Nora recounts:

“A leading member of the Central Committee visited us at home in autumn 1979; he recommended that we leave the country. It was supposed to look like a voluntary decision—but in fact it was an expulsion which, at that time, was irreversible; we boarded the train to Vienna shortly afterwards.”⁶

Residing now in the West, freed from Soviet shackles, Pärt increasingly undergirded his works with Christian-themed texts. After the Soviet Union disintegrated, Pärt eventually returned to his homeland, Estonia.⁷

Born September 11, 1935 in Paide, Estonia to an Orthodox father and a Lutheran mother, Arvo Pärt was raised as a Protestant, though not especially religious as a youth.⁸ At conservatory, during his studies of Western composers, particularly their sacred texts, he was moved by the works’ spiritual nature. This, in turn, motivated him to pursue his own spirituality, to the extent it would inextricably intertwine with his music.⁹

Pärt formally converted to the Orthodox Church in 1972.¹⁰

Two album releases post-expulsion (and Soviet disintegration) are reviewed below:

Litany (ECM New Series 1592, BMG 78118-21592, © ECM Records, 1996)
Orient & Occident (ECM New Series 1795, Universal Classics 289 472 080, © ECM Records, 2002)

Litany consists of three pieces. The first (title piece Litany) features the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra (Tõnu Kaljuste conducting), Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, and the Hilliard Ensemble (vocal quartet). The second and third pieces are instrumental, featuring the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra (Saulius Sondeckis conducting). Disappointingly, besides the text for the title piece, Litany, no explanatory liner notes are provided; so, information had to be obtained through other research.

—Litany is set to the (King James) English text of 4^th century theologian John Chrysostom’s hourly prayers—24, for each hour of the day. At nearly 23 minutes long, it comprises a bit over half the length of the entire disc. Each prayer begins with the vocative, “O, Lord…” Due to differing lengths, Pärt scored the music asymetrically, in order to match the specific pattern of each one.

It reaches its climax during the singing of the 24^th. This prayer reads, O Lord, Thou knowest that Thou dost as Thou wilt, let then Thy will be done in me, a sinner, for blessed art Thou unto the ages. Amen. I find the 23^rd the most poignant: O Lord, shelter me from certain men, from demons and passions, and from any other unbecoming thing. (Click on the hyperlinked title above [and those below] to listen to the entire piece.)

—Psalom (Slavonic, Psalm): The Slavonic text of Psalm 112 LXX (aka Septuagint) underlies this fully instrumental work. The Orthodox Psalter sources the Greek LXX (rather than the Hebrew Masoretic Text), so the equivalent text in typical Protestant versions is Psalm 113. Its words are exchanged for musical notation. Separating each verse-as-music are long pauses (rests), which provide space for reflection.

—Trisagion (Greek, Tri-Holy, Thrice Holy): “Although it is an instrumental piece, the parameters of this text in Church Slavonic (number of syllables per word, accentuations etc.) are the determining factor in the composition.”¹¹ Part of Orthodox liturgy, the Trisagion text itself contains portions of Scripture, beginning with the Tri-aspect of Matthew 28:19, which is then followed by Luke 18:13 (be merciful to me, a sinner). Its middle reads, “O Holy God, Holy Strong, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us”, which is thrice recited. It concludes with ‘The Lord’s Prayer’, aka ‘Our Father’. In the score this text is written under the notes, in order to guide the musicians.¹²

All in all, I rate Litany a 4.5 out of 5. Well programmed, with Psalom providing a welcome break after the more demanding listen of the title piece and Trisagion fitting as a finale. Perhaps a good place for the Pärt novice to begin.

The Orient & Occident release consists of three pieces. All tracks feature the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Swedish Radio Choir, with Tõnu Kaljuste conducting. At over 30 minutes, the five piece suite of the final work Como cierva sedienta constitutes two-thirds of the disc’s duration.

—Wallfahrtslied / Pilgrims’ Song: The version here is for men’s choir and string orchestra (2001). It was originally written (1984—for tenor or baritone voice and string orch) after the death of friend Grigori Kromanov, Estonian film and stage director. Pärt’s musical intent here is to bridge the chasm now forged between the two—between time and timelessness, temporality and eternality. The orchestra musically represents the time side; the men’s choir, the other. The text, sung in German, is Psalm 121 (LXX), which begins, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills…”

Orient & Occident (East & West): As Psalom and Trisagion in the earlier (above) release, the text here speaks through the music. The underlying words come from the Old Slavonic of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed (381).¹³ This Creed is “among the few religious texts that are the same in the Western and Eastern Church.”¹⁴ The music is a commingling of Eastern and Western styles.¹⁵ The composition appears to reflect Pärt’s Christian ecumenism—a seeming desire that Christians be, perhaps, less sectarian.¹⁶

Como cierva sedienta (Spanish, like a thirsty deer): The text here is Psalms 42–43 (LXX), sung in Spanish, featuring Helena Olsson, soprano.

Why art thou cast down, O my soul?
And why art thou disquieted within me?

David’s refrain here is universal in appeal. We all feel this from time to time. “My soul” represents the soul of each of us. Yet, David’s solution to his plight is distinctive:

Hope thou in God:
For I shall yet praise Him

Given the length of Como cierva sedienta, Orient & Occident stands or falls on its relative merits. Candidly, much in the way I dislike sustained high register trumpeting, I do not much care for sustained high pitched soprano singing. It’s just a bit too much for these ears at times. But my assessment is, of course, subjective. You may quite like it. And that’s not to say the piece has no merits. It certainly does. That said, I still prefer the first two works, the first especially. Overall I’d rate this release a 4 out of 5.

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¹ Taken from Arvo Pärt’s commencement speech at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, May 31, 2014.

² Arvo Pärt Centre > Timeline > 1968 > Premiere of Credo in November.

³ “I Seek a Common Denominator”, Italian musicologist Enzo Restagno’s interview with Nora and Arvo Pärt, 2010, as taken from Arvo Pärt Centre.

⁴ Ibid.

⁵ Ibid.

⁶ Ibid.

⁷ Peter C. Bouteneff, Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence (Yonkers, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2015), p 51.

⁸ Bouteneff, Out of Silence, p 48.

⁹ Bouteneff, Out of Silence, pp 48–51.

¹⁰ Bouteneff, Out of Silence, p 48.

¹¹ “Works: Trisagion”, as taken from the short description from Arvo Pärt Center site; see hyperlink at main text.

¹² Text obtained from Universal Edition’s page for Trisagion, page 2.

¹³ See description under the hyperlink at the beginning of this paragraph.

¹⁴ Ibid.

¹⁵ Ibid.

¹⁶ These are my own thoughts, extrapolated from various sources. See, e.g., Bouteneff, Out of Silence, pp 50, 51–53; cf. source at footnote 3 above.

For Whom the Bells Toll

The church bells suspend
yet the sound keeps blooming
out of the flowers

Throughout the West, in select towns and villages large and small, church bells beckon congregants on Sundays and Holy Days. The ringing bells reverberate down the streets and corridors, the streams and river beds, and in and through creation—both God’s and man’s.

Let the heavens rejoice, and the earth be glad; let the sea and all it contains roar; let the fields and all that’s in them exult: then all the trees in the forest will joyfully shout before the LORD (Ps 96:11–13).

The bells toll for whom?

The heavens declare the glory of God; the sky proclaims His handiwork (Ps 19:1).

Opening this post is an adaptation of a Matsuo Bashō haiku.¹ Imbued with God’s radiance, the flowers, as all God’s creation, wait in anticipation for the coming emancipation—the glorious Day of the Lord (Rom 8:18–25).

For from the creation of the world, God’s invisible attributes—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made (Rom 1:20).

[See also Music for the Times: Arvo Pärt: Da Pacem.]

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¹ As translated by Robert Bly: The temple bell stops, but the sound keeps coming out of the flowers. The idea for this blog post arose from reading the liner notes to Arvo Pärt’s Arbos, ECM NEW SERIES 1325 (831-959-1), ©1987 ECM Records GmbH.

Music for the Times: Arvo Pärt: Da Pacem

Here I offer music for the times, accompanied by timeless images reflecting God’s wondrous creation.

Some may quibble at some of Pärt’s selections here (“Salve Regina”). But let’s focus on the larger picture.

Though there are many highlights in this album, I’ll close with this written piece set to music/voice, which closes this album. It’s from a sermon by John Henry Newman (1801–­1890) titled Wisdom and Innocence, preached on February 19, 1843:

May He support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done! Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at last.

Forsaken For Our Sake

He was tortured for our transgressions, stricken for our sin sickness (Isa. 53:4–12). The One substituted for the multitude, the Just for the unjust. For our justification.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cried out to God the Father on the Cross. Yet we must consider the refrain of Charles Wesley’s hymn “And Can It Be?”

Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

God died? God is eternal and cannot die.¹ Yet, in a sense, we must affirm that God did die on the Cross (Acts 20:28; Romans 3:25).

At the moment of the Incarnation, the pre-incarnate Divine Word (John 1:1) became God in human flesh in the person of Jesus Christ (John 1:14–17; cf. Luke 1:26–35; 2:4–14). That is, Christ is the theanthropos (theos, God; anthropos, man), the God-man, and we must retain the integrity of His theanthropic person. We must not unduly separate His Deity from His humanity in His person, for this would fall prey to the heresy of what is known as Nestorianism—that Christ is two persons in one, a Divine person and a human person.

Yet, at the same time, we understand that it was Christ’s human nature that perished on the Cross, while His Divine nature continued on.² But we state that Christ died on the Cross because of what is known as the communication of attributes. Simply stated, the communication of attributes affirms that what one nature does—whether the Divine or the human—the person of Christ does. Jesus grew tired and slept according to His human nature, though God never sleeps nor slumbers. Jesus Christ died on the Cross, though God does not die.

So Jesus’ cry to God the Father on the Cross emanated from the human nature of His person. Prior to this, in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed to the Father, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). This also was spoken from the human nature of His theanthropic person, for we must not think that Jesus as God has a different will from God the Father. Historical Christian orthodoxy affirms that the Trinity has one Divine will, while Christ has two wills—in accordance with His Divine and human natures.³

God willingly condescended to take the form of man in the person of Jesus Christ, in order to become a sacrifice for us. A Divine mystery for the sake of humanity.⁴

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¹ Strictly speaking, to believe God died—with no further qualification—is a heresy known as theopassianism or, depending on phraseology (“God the Father”), patripassianism. See, e.g., Donald K. McKim, Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1996), pp 204, 282.

² For those having difficulty conceptualizing this, consider the Holy Spirit-indwelt believer as an analogy. As Christians we affirm that, upon conversion, the Spirit never leaves the regenerated believer. We also affirm that the Holy Spirit in one believer is the same Spirit in another believer. Yet the Spirit is surely not subdivided among believers! There is one Holy Spirit. God IS Spirit (John 4:24); that is, God is by nature a spirit Being. We believe God is omnipresent—that God is everywhere present, and not limited to one physical location or sphere. And, surely, when the believer dies the Holy Spirit does not die with the believer. Similarly, the hypostatic union of the Divine and human natures in Christ does not mean that the Divine nature is limited to, or wholly contained in, Jesus’ human body. The omnipresence of the Divine Word continued unabated, uninterrupted by the Incarnation. That is, Jesus’ Divine nature and His human nature were distinct in the hypostatic union of the one person of Jesus Christ such that the Divine nature was in no way impacted by this union. Now, of course, the person of Jesus Christ was limited in physical location due to His human nature; yet, in His Divine nature He continued upholding the cosmos (Col 1:17; Hebrews 1:3) even during His earthly existence. Accordingly, His Divine nature did not perish on the Cross.

³ Christ’s two wills—one Divine as part of the Trinitarian ‘Godhead’ and one human—was codified at the Sixth Ecumenical Council in 680–681.

⁴ And this is no contradiction, as some detractors might say, but a Divine mystery. There is no contradiction, properly understood.

Nevertheless . . . To Whom Shall We Go?

Perplexed at Jesus’ teaching of flesh-as-bread and blood-as-drink, many disciples desert Him. At this, Jesus questions the Twelve to see if they too wish to abandon Him. Simon Peter replies, Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life (John 6:60–68). Paraphrasing Peter’s words and thoughts: We too are confused by this teaching; nevertheless, to whom shall we go?

The Twelve were perplexed; nevertheless, they (minus one—John 6:70–71) still believed.

Job felt as though God was slaying him; nevertheless, he continued to place his faith in Him.

The composition is at points plaintive, at others elegiac. At times slumbering, hesitating; at times faster-paced. Its myriad and changing moods, emotions, and tempos mirror mine at times, providing a musical metaphor.

Latvian composer Georgs Pelēcis describes the piece:

One of the fundamental characteristics of my style rests in the principle of the concerto . . . The principle of the concerto [in unifying two different themes] is . . . evident in “Nevertheless”. Moreover, this double concerto for violin, piano and strings reveals the importance of the psychological dimension in music. At the beginning of this piece, the piano plays in a minor key, in a state of permanent melancholy. The violin on the other hand, almost always in a major key, swims in happiness and wants to convince his partner to join him there. For a long time he doesn’t manage it, and it is only after three violin solos, three passionate cadences, that the piano finally says “yes”. Because true happiness is happiness shared!

Like Paul in Romans 7:14–25, I engage in this internal conflict, warring with myself. But too often I tend towards the piano. The violin is there for sure, but I am more apt to hear the piano. Listen to the violin!

Feeling drained and downtrodden at times, nevertheless, I remain inspired to study and write. Something inside drives me on. Feeling a bit confounded by this topsy-turvy stage of life, nevertheless, I still cling—haphazardly at times—to the hope in Christ. To whom shall I go instead? Only His Words provide eternal life.

Is Jesus Christ Lord and Savior?

In answering this question a Christian can simply rearrange the words and turn it into a statement, a truth-claim:

Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior.

But let’s ponder this further.

Let’s break it down into two separate claims. First: Jesus Christ is Savior. Any Christian would have no trouble affirming the truth of this statement. This is an intrinsic and necessary part of the Gospel—the Good News!

Let’s make the second claim: Jesus Christ is Lord. Once again, a Christian would find no difficulty affirming its truth.

Now let’s make it more personal: Jesus Christ is Lord of my life. I cannot speak for you, of course, but I can tell you that I have difficulty affirming this. Honestly—and shamefully—I must confess that far too often Craig is lord of his own life. And, truthfully, I don’t do a very good job in that role. Yet I stubbornly persist.

How easy it is to take up—to merely give mental assent to—the message of the Cross. But how difficult it is to take up your own cross.

God Came to Abide with Us

God came to abide with humanity and at the hands of humanity die,
so forever in His made-without-hands abode could humanity too reside.

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Posts of Christmas past:

Coming Soon Near You!

Today an Eternal Present was Unveiled in the City of David