In March 1946, about a month after my birth, I was baptized by immersion in water at the Holy Resurrection Orthodox Church in Warren, Ohio. During the ceremony, the priest placed a silver chain with the three-bar Eastern Orthodox cross (St. Andrew’s cross), provided by my parents,
around my neck.
Though many traditions explain its symbolism, I was taught that the third bar of the St. Andrew’s cross shows the balance between the good thief,
St. Dismas, and the bad thief, Gesmas, who died with Jesus Christ. Its left side slants upward, indicating that St. Dismas ascended into Heaven after he obtained his salvation with God The right end tilts downward and symbolizes that God thrust Gesmas into Hell after he cursed Him. According to my studies, this bar indicates where Jesus’ feet were affixed.
Because the cross was blessed, I felt safer wearing it. Whenever I experienced fear, worry, or aloneness, I touched it to remind me of who I am and of the One above me.
In September 1965, I was drafted into the U.S. Army. Three months later I headed to Basic Training. Afterwards, I completed advanced schooling in Virginia and then served in Germany. In April 1967, I volunteered for duty in Vietnam. As always, I wore my cross every day.
Less than a year later, when time allowed, I left base camp in Vietnam and traveled to the Military Advisory Group’s compound. Mr. White, a USAID worker, supervised a refugee hospital there and frequently ran out of medical supplies.
In order to help, I hustled whatever he needed from my company, the area hospital, and various dispensaries.
In addition, the refugee hospital needed maintenance.
The windows lacked screens and not enough beds were available. Richard, another medic like me, and a few other fellow soldiers helped me locate the needed concrete blocks, lumber, and other building supplies. Sometimes, we stole materials from the Air Force base or bribed someone.
When we drove up with our trucks loaded with all of his needs and wants, Mr. White’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. With our ill-gotten materials, we remodeled the decaying building.
One day, after hours working on the hospital, we were returning to base camp when the radio sounded an alert for all soldiers to vacate the roadways and return to their bases. While our jeep was going full speed in the Tuy Hoa area, we observed rockets and mortars being launched on a small village.
The incursion ceased when we were opposite the village. Wounded civilians were lying on the ground. For a second, we thought we should get home but decided to pull over and help.
I jumped out of the jeep and went to aid a 12-year- old Vietnamese girl, who sustained shoulder and chest injuries from shrapnel. Leaning over to clean and suture her wounds, my cross hung down from my neck. She reached up and began playing with it. Suddenly, she broke the chain and held it in a death grip.
Her father, who was standing next to her, asked me if I was a Catholic bacsi mop, which means “Catholic big doctor” in English. I guess he saw the cross and
thought I was Catholic.
I attempted to explain. “No, I am Eastern Orthodox.” The Buddhist man probably did not understand what I was saying though I repeated myself a couple of times. The girl’s family just stared at me. Not one of my finest moments.
After wrapping the young girl’s wounds, I asked God to heal and protect her. I then turned her over to the Vietnamese medics, who carried her away. I wanted my cross, which was still tightly gripped in her hand, but what could I do? There was no way I could ask for it back.
She was relocated to another area, and I never saw her again. However, a few weeks later I heard from one of our Vietnamese workers that she was doing well. He said the family wanted to thank me.
In 2001 Metropolitan Kirill, now the Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, and his team visited Vietnam on a fact- finding mission and met with a Russian-speaking community. A year later they created a parish in Vung Tau called Our Lady of Kazan, bringing their Eastern Orthodox crosses with them.
After I lost my cross, my mother replaced it with a round Orthodox medal, which belonged to our family for a long time. Engraved on the front of it is Christ with a book. On the back, it says, “I am an Orthodox Christian.”
Though I value the medal, at times I think about my St. Andrew’s cross and the wounded 12-year-old Vietnamese girl who pulled it from my neck. I wonder if she still owns it. If so, does she feel safer? Does it remind her of who she is? Or did someone sell it for the silver? I prefer to believe the former; God knows for sure.
~ John Trotogott
Check out the new blog by Dan Monroe - you'll laugh, you'll scratch your head, and, best of all, you'll come away with new thoughts.
In view of the fact that there was no New Testament (NT) in the early church, how did the earliest Christians know to refer to those documents which we now call inspired and canonical, i.e. officially recognized by the church? Several factors counted against their ability to fasten upon what became our NT canon. E.g., if Acts is any indication, they operated with a relatively high degree of local autonomy; they did not enjoy or exploit synods or councils till rather later; they often experienced persecution; heresies arose fairly early, so with time there was an increasing number of heretical competitors for canonicity. Perhaps the fact most relevant to our question is the most easily verified, that when the documents of the NT were written, no author stated that his work should be included in a canon. How indeed did the canon close so cleanly?1
In order to answer this question, we will study the earliest body of Christian literature contemporary with or following after the writings of the apostles, i.e. the Apostolic Fathers.2 The Apostolic Fathers on this strict definition comprise St. Clement of Rome, St. Ignatius of Antioch and St. Polycarp of Smyrna. To these three are traditionally added II Clement, the Epistle of Barnabas, the Didache and the Shepherd of Hermas (even though the latter is definitely a second century work).
So what are we looking for in the Apostolic Fathers? Let us note first that people commonly do not source hear-say and expert knowledge in the same way, nor do they confuse sources having a high degree of credibility with sources having a low degree of credibility. Therefore, by studying how the Apostolic Fathers cited the NT, we may be able to tell what they thought of them. What status did the NT documents have in their minds? Did that status change? If so, when and how? We begin with the earliest Apostolic Father, St. Clement; later we will turn to St. Ignatius, St. Polycarp etc.
I Clement, traditionally ascribed to Pope Clement, a very early bishop of Rome, was written as a letter from the church at Rome to the church at Corinth.3 Received opinion dates I Clement to the last decade of the first century; this makes it roughly contemporary with the Apocalypse of St. John and the epistles of St. Ignatius of Antioch. Due to its early date, I Clement is ideal for studying the early Christian view of the authority of the NT documents.
The interested reader may wish to read I Clement for himself. Although this letter is standardly included in anthologies of the Apostolic Fathers, online texts are also accessible; I recommend Earlychristianwritings.com in particular. For a helpful discussion of the Apostolic Fathers and the canon of the NT, the reader may listen to Fr. Andrew Stephen Damick’s lecture, “The Church after the Bible: The Body of Christ after the Apostles” (Roads from Emmaus, Nov. 2, 2013 at AncientFaithRadio.com).
In our next episode, we will begin by studying how I Clement cites the OT, after which we turn to his NT citations.
1. In 367, St. Athanasius was the first bishop to authorize as canonical just the 27 books of the NT that we find in our Bibles. However, subsequent events prove that not only were some of his OT picks unlucky, but even his NT picks did not decisively close the canon. E.g., Sts. Cyril of Jerusalem and Gregory the Theologian omit Revelation from their list of the NT canon (F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture [IVP Academic, 1988], p. 213).
2. It may sound as if the Apostolic Fathers should refer to the apostles, but that is not so; the term Apostolic is lazy for Sub-apostolic. (In Latin sub can mean “under, at the foot of,” but it can also mean “immediately after,” as in succeed, “to come after”).
3. The feast of St. Clement is celebrated on the traditional Catholic calendar on the 23rd of November, on the Greek Orthodox calendar on the 24th and on the Russian Orthodox calendar on the 25th. A few years ago I unwittingly reverenced his relic in the Parish of the Dormition of the Theotokos in Singapore; it was not until afterwards that I realized that Rimski in “Sveti Kliment Rimski” had to mean “the Roman.”
Why does God allow evil things to happen? For centuries people have agonized over this question.1 St. Mark the Monk (or the Ascetic) has the answers to it. The purpose of this article is to summarize briefly without much comment St. Mark’s resolution of the notorious mystery of suffering.
By way of introduction, St. Mark the Monk seems to have been a spiritual giant who escaped detection; at least modern scholarship does not have much to say about him.2 Tim Vivian suggests a mid-fifth century date, but finds no evidence to tie St. Mark to any area.3 What we do know is that he was very popular reading. A monastic slogan recorded in the 14th century was, “Sell everything and buy Mark” (p. 32).4 When the Philokalia was compiled, St. Mark was naturally included. He wrote two works—both of which are in the Philokalia—which delve deeply into evils and sufferings: On the Spiritual Law and Those Who Imagine They Are Justified by Works. Our plan is to use these works to summarize his doctrine that there is no mystery of suffering.5
Now, our thesis is that St. Mark does not recognize the afflictions of this life as constituting a mystery of suffering because, in short, they are good for us sub specie aeternitatis (in the very long run). Since On the Spiritual Law (SL) and On Those Who Imagine They Are Justified by Works (JW) are organized in chapters—i.e., in loosely linked strings of comments—St. Mark nowhere provides an organized doctrine of affliction. However, due to the organization of his mind, it is easy enough to sketch out his case that afflictions are not evil.
A note on organization. I decided to give the relevant chapters in order of appearance within each work, since I do not possess any insight as to how they should be ordered to anyone’s benefit. St. Mark is best left to speak for himself.
One theme which St. Mark dwells on is the future value of earthly sufferings.
A seed will not grow without earth and water; and a man will not develop without voluntary suffering and divine help (JW 70).
If we fulfil Christ’s commandments according to our conscience, we are spiritually refreshed to the extent that we suffer in our heart. But each thing comes to us at the right time (JW 93).
The greater a man's faith that Christ will reward him, the greater his readiness to endure every injustice. (SL 44).
When harmed, insulted or persecuted by someone, do not think of the present but wait for the future, and you will find He has brought you much good, not only in this life but also in the life to come (SL 114).
Accept present afflictions for the sake of future blessings; then you will never weaken in your struggle (SL 156).
He who wishes to avoid future troubles should endure his present troubles gladly. For in this way, balancing the one against the other, through small sufferings he will avoid those which are great (SL 187).
THE BLESSINGS OF AFFLICTIONS
Another theme he develops is that our afflictions procure us blessings in the present.
Unexpected trials are sent by God to teach us to practice the ascetic life; and they lead us to repentance even when we are reluctant (JW 8).5
If you want with a few words to benefit one who is eager to learn, speak to him about prayer, right faith, and the patient acceptance of what comes. For all else that is good is found through these (JW 94).
The mercy of God is hidden in sufferings not of our choice; and if we accept such sufferings patiently, they bring us to repentance and deliver us from everlasting punishment (JW 139).
He who suffers injustice escapes sin, finding help in proportion to his affliction (SL 43).
By praying for those who wrong us we overthrow the devil; opposing them we are wounded by him (SL 45).
Consider the outcome of every involuntary affliction, and you will find it has been the destruction of sin (SL 67).
Just as the bitterness of absinth helps a poor appetite, so misfortunes help a bad character. For the first benefits the physical condition, and the second leads to repentance (SL 115).
THE ACQUISITION OF THE VIRTUES
Still another benefit of suffering is its contribution to the acquisition of the virtues.
Just as suffering and dishonor usually give birth to virtues, so pleasure and self-esteem usually give birth to vices (JW 157).
He who accepts present afflictions in the expectation of future blessings has found knowledge of the truth; and he will easily be freed from anger and remorse (JW 168).
Wisdom is not only to perceive the natural consequence of things, but also to accept as our due the malice of those who wrong us. People who go no further than the first kind of wisdom become proud, whereas those who attain the second become humble (JW 206).
If you do not want evil thoughts to be active within you, accept humiliation of soul and affliction of the flesh; and this not just on particular occasions, but always, everywhere and in all things (JW 207).
He who willingly accepts chastening by affliction is not dominated by evil thoughts against his will; whereas he who does not accept affliction is taken prisoner by evil thoughts, even though he resists them (JW 208).
THE REMEMBRANCE OF GOD
Another blessing conferred by suffering is the remembrance of God.
Distress reminds the wise of God, but crushes those who forget Him (SL 56).
Let all involuntary suffering teach you to remember God, and you will not lack occasion for repentance (SL 57).
If you wish to remember God unceasingly, do not reject as undeserved what happens to you, but patiently accept it as your due. For patient acceptance of whatever happens kindles the remembrance of God, whereas refusal to accept weakens the spiritual purpose of the heart and so makes it forgetful (JW 125).
OUR CONTRIBUTION TO OUR OWN SUFFERINGS
St. Mark’s opinion that suffering is a source of blessings does not mean that he divorces sin and suffering.
We cannot with all our heart forgive someone who does us wrong unless we possess real knowledge. For this knowledge shows us that we deserve all we experience (JW 49).
Real knowledge is patiently to accept affliction and not to blame others for our own misfortunes (JW 56).
Everyone receives what he deserves in accordance with his inner state. But only God understands the many different ways in which this happens (JW 67).
If, as Scripture teaches, everything involuntary has its cause in what is voluntary, man has no greater enemy than himself (JW 104).
Trials come upon us because of our former sins, bringing what is appropriate to each offence (JW 154).
If you refuse to accept suffering and dishonor, do not claim to be in a state of repentance because of your other virtues. For self-esteem and insensitivity can serve sin even under the cover of virtue (JW 156).
He who fights against others out of fear of hardship or reproach will either suffer more harshly through what befalls him in this life, or will be punished mercilessly in the life to come (JW 171).
He who does not understand God’s judgments walks on a ridge like a knife-edge and is easily unbalanced by every puff of wind. When praised, he exults; when criticized, he feels bitter. When he feasts, he makes a pig of himself; and when he suffers hardship, he moans and groans. When he understands, he shows off; and when he does not understand, he pretends that he does. When rich, he is boastful; and when in poverty, he plays the hypocrite. Gorged, he grows brazen; and when he fasts, he becomes arrogant. He quarrels with those who reprove him; and those who forgive him he regards as fools (JW 193).
Unless a man acquires, through the grace of Christ, knowledge of the truth and fear of God, he is gravely wounded not only by the passions but also by the things that happen to him (JW 194).
When the evil conduct of one person begins to affect others, you should not show long-suffering; and instead of your own advantage you should seek that of the others, so that they may be saved. For virtue involving many people is more valuable than virtue involving only one (JW 214).
No one can experience suffering and remorse in a way that accords with God’s will, unless he first loves what causes them (JW 218).
St. Mark’s view then is that when we suffer, we acquire many blessings: suffering prepares future blessings for us, procure blessings in this life, help us to acquire the virtues and to remember God. In view of these facts, we may conclude that there is no mystery of suffering. Suffering is good for us.
An example may help us. Whether we get a cavity because we did not brush them, or because of our genes, going to the dentist is still good for us. Yes, the dentist visit is in this scenario suffering, though the metaphor should not be pushed so far as to make the dentist a devil.
Another example: consider a cat that must receive medical treatment. Because we cannot explain why we have to do something painful to it, the cat can only look upon us as doing evil. Now God has spoken through the Bible and the Fathers about the importance of suffering, so that we can apply their doctrines to our lives as St. Mark urges us. Unfortunately, because we cannot believe that what the Bible and the Fathers say really applies to us—surely it is my neighbor who must walk the extra mile!—we imagine we have grounds for grievance. St. Mark warns us that we have no such grounds.
Let us close with St. Mark’s advice on how to suffer.
Afflictions that come to us are the result of our own sins. But if we accept them patiently through prayer, we shall again find blessings (JW 9).
A sinner cannot escape retribution except through repentance appropriate to his offence (JW 58).
When a sinful soul does not accept the afflictions that come to it, the angels say: ‘We would have healed Babylon, but she was not healed’ (Jr 51:9) (JW 82).
Escape from temptation through patience and prayer. If you oppose temptation without these, it only attacks you more strongly (JW 106).
Do not say that a dispassionate man cannot suffer affliction; for even if he does not suffer on his own account, he is under a liability to do so for his neighbor (JW 123).6
He who wishes to be spared all misfortunes should associate God with everything through prayer; with his intellect he should set his hope in Him, putting aside, so far as possible, all concern about things of the senses (JW 172).
When tested by some trial you should try to find out not why or through whom it came, but only how to endure it gratefully, without distress or rancor (JW 198).
I encourage everyone to read St. Mark for himself—he wrote deeply and lucidly about things besides afflictions in a way that is very accessible. Three of his works are available in the Philokalia. St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press has printed all of his known works in one volume in their Popular Patristics Series (see n. 2).
- DAN MONROE
1. I am relying on Niels Christian Hvidt for the background which follows (see “The Historical Development of the Problem of Evil” in Physics and Cosmology: Scientific Perspectives on the Problem of Natural Evil, ed. Murphy, N., R. J. Russell & W. R. Stoeger (Vatican City State: Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences, Berkeley & Vatican Observatory Publications, 2007), which may be accessed at tro-helbred.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/ Hvidt-CTNS-Final.pdf). In brief, the mystery of suffering or (more generally) the problem evil is a recent preoccupation even in the West, surfacing there only in the 17th century. It was then that Leibniz attempted to rebut the rationalists of his day, who faulted the Creator for allowing evils to exist. As Hvidt points out, Western Christian teaching on this question had been unchanged since the beginning: all evils ultimately stem from the fall of Adam (p. 19). In the West, the doctrines of original sin, massa damnata and double predestination were significant means of explaining both the causes and the effects of this fall; we may well imagine that these doctrines would sooner or later have created doubts in the minds of the thoughtful. In the East, the emphasis was on corruption, an effect of the fall which anyone can verify for himself with a history book, a newspaper or experience. Hvidt observes that before the Enlightenment, the discussion of evils—whether moral, natural or personal—was conducted within a Christian perspective; beginning with the Enlightenment, the same discussion attempted “to provide reasons for [the Christian] perspective” (p. 24). Christians from the earliest days conceded presumptively that God was just; the only question was how His justice was to be traced; Leibnitz accepted the originally te unquestioned starting point (God’s justice) as the bone of contention.
2. All the information on St. Mark in this paragraph comes from St. Mark the
Monk, Counsels on the Spiritual Life, ed. & tr. Tim Vivian and Augustine Casiday (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2009). The Prologue from Ochrid gives little enough information on his feast day (March 5). It supports Vivian’s surmise of a 5th century date, but places the saint in Egypt, not in Asia Minor. Modern scholarship tends to be tight-lipped about assigning dates and places or about accepting the explicitly stated motives of the Fathers at face value, whereas the underdogs of history—most famously in our age, the Gnostics—are treated generously and excused when necessary.
3. Idem, p. 24 f.
4. Idem, p. 32.
5. I have used G. E. H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard and Kallistos Ware (trans. and eds.) for “On Those who Think They Are Made Righteous by Works: Two Hundred Twenty Six Texts” (The Philokalia: The Complete Text, vol. I [Faber & Faber, London & Boston: 1979], pp. 125-146), available as a PDF at jbburnett.com/resources/mark_ascetic-righteousness.pdf. To cite “On the Spiritual Law Two: Hundred Texts,” I have relied on the same translation, found at https://archive.org/details/Philokalia-TheCompleteText. Vivian and Casiday’s translations are vitiated by political correctness.
6. Note the proviso “by divine dispensation.” This phrase is our assurance that suffering in and of itself is not a blessing and will not procure for us any blessing unless by divine dispensation. As Somerset Maugham wrote in The Moon and Sixpence, “suffering, for the most part, makes men petty and vindictive.”
7. This is confirmation of St. Mark’s doctrine that sufferings are a source of blessings, for we are nowhere asked to sin on behalf of our neighbors.