Mark 16:1-8 (Matins)
Eph 2:14-22
Luke 8:41-56

"Who Hath Made Both One"

For He Himself is our peace, Who hath made both One,
and hath broken down the middle wall of separation ....

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Yesterday, on Michaelmas, we reflected on God's Unity of Light encompassing bodiless powers together with earthly men and women. Today, by the grace of God through the Lectionary, we continue that meditation but focused now on the question of our salvation.

Another way to talk about this is the three-fold path — purgation, illumination, union — a central strand in Orthodox Tradition beginning with the Apostles. All that God made was good. The unique image of that goodness in harmony with God is Eden. God's constant design for His Creation is this goodness-in-harmony. The purpose of our lives is to return to this Eden, purging ourselves of every ungodly thing, permitting God's light and love to fill our souls and persons, and by that process, to be united to Him.

Consider the Mount of Transfiguration on Mount Hermon (near Caesarea-Philippi, where Jesus had asked, "Who do you say that I am?"). The Lord Jesus becomes filled with God's pure, white light, revealing in turn a beautiful tableau of life-in-harmony — harmony with the Law (Moses) and with the Prophets (Elijah), all in union with God the Father, Who voices His Presence. To the Jewish mind of the first century, this would be a perfection of harmony: to be just, that is, perfectly attuned to the Law and the Prophets like a trued wheel or a tuned harp, and to be righteous, that is, blameless before the Law and the Prophets.

In a haunting counter-image to this ascent, two hundred angels descended from Heaven to Mt. Hermon lusting after the comely and beautiful daughters of Eve (1 Enoch 6:2) swearing an oath to fornicate with them lest any have second thoughts (Ibid, 6:5).

And .... took unto themselves wives .... and they began to go in unto
them and defile themselves with them.    (Ibid, 7:2)
The general subject before us is sanctification, what the Orthodox Church calls theosis.

In our part of the world, this subject falls upon the ears of our Christian neighbors as gibberish. They ask if we at the Hermitage have "been saved." Are we "born again"? Looking upon the Hermitage Sisters, — who have spent twenty-five years in Haiti, dwelt unprotected among lepers in remote India, lived in unremitting poverty, have relieved suffering among the poor day after day for decades, who pray day and night without fail, and who strive for personal purity — I reply, "Who among you can say they have made Jesus the Lord of their life to a scope and depth such as this?" The question of salvation does not begin and end in emotion or in the abstraction of our thoughts. The scope and depth of salvation lies in our transformation — from animals of the earth to godly creatures filled with Divine light.

From the beginning it has been so. The Hebrew Scriptures read as the story of a constant falling away from holiness by God's people and of God calling them back to Himself Who is Holy. Even in the Sinai wilderness, where God sought to purify them, they rejected manna demanding blood and animal meat.

In our own time, a striving for holiness continues to be practiced by Orthodox Christians. The Orthodox Church teaches that personal sanctification is salvation by the grace and leading of God. This does not mean simply to eat a vegan diet or to go on a fruit fast though this is part of the Orthodox life. It is far more holistic than that. It is all-encompassing — a striving to be blameless before God in all things and to reverence our bodies as the holy temples they are and were made to be.

Advancing along this upward path, we find that a transformation occurs within us — our hearts become tender toward the poor and oppressed; we become uncomfortable with luxurious living or conspicuous consumption; we develop an allergy to the world, the flesh, and the devil; and we naturally wince at indecent images or trashy movies.

It goes without saying that these principles trace back to the dawn of time following the expulsion from Eden. And certainly they were primary to the spiritual life 3,000 years ago. As we saw in yesterday's reflection, the religious life of sanctification was practiced hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus by the Essenes, who in turn received this tradition from the religious life of the First Temple in the time of David and Solomon. (This link to First Temple spirituality has been demonstrated by scholars of our own time via the texts and traditions of Merkavah mysticism.)

The Essenes of the first century A.D. lived near the northwest shore of the Dead Sea in Qumran following the fall of Jerusalem. They wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls. According to the Roman-Jewish historian Flavius Josephus, they constituted the third major party of Jewish believers along with the Pharisees and Sadducees. But while the Pharisees preoccupied themselves with legalistic debate and the Sadducees preoccupied themselves with the aristocratic roles of governance, the Essenes were entirely absorbed in lives of holiness. The defining marks of their community were sanctification; a community of godly love; empathy toward the oppressed and poor; poverty, chastity, and obedience; and a low view of the luxurious life and worldly pursuits.

The First Temple built by Solomon did not come about willy-nilly or through royal whims concerning interior decoration. Its aspiration was to be a permanent and faithful expression of the Tabernacle of the Sinai wilderness, which, in turn, was to be a ritual expression of the Garden of Eden,

.... the tabernacle of the congregation before the Lord: where I will meet with thee, to speak there unto thee.

And there I will meet with the children of Israel, and the Tabernacle shall be sanctified by my glory.

And I will dwell among the children of Israel, and will be their God.    (Exod 29:42-45)
Where in Scripture can we find this harmony — this meeting with God, this speaking with God, this dwelling in peace with God, but in Eden?

The Tabernacle, with its expression as the First Temple, was oriented east-to-west from its entrance to the Holy of Holies. That is, the path expressed a return to Eden and thence to High Heaven. The area to the east represented the fallen world. Entrance into the courtyards around the Temple signified a degree of holiness and intention to return to God's embrace. Entering the Tabernacle itself was reserved for those who had attained holiness. The western wall of the Temple was the Garden wall, for past it lay Eden. Beyond, hung the veil separating Eden from the Holy of Holies signifying High Heaven, represented by a "golden cube." In the Tabernacle the cube was smaller:

The cell was cube-like in shape, being 10 ells high, 10 ells long, and 10 ells broad.
It contained the Ark of the Covenant   (Exod 26:34; cf. Josephus, Antiquities 3.6)
                                                                    (from "Holy of Holies," Jewish Encyclopedia)
In the First Temple it was larger:
The section farthest from the entrance, designated also as the "debir" (the "oracle"
"the most holy place," 1 Kings 6:5, R. V. margin), was 20 cubits high and presented
the shape of a cube. The stone of this inner or hinder part, like the outer room, was
completely hidden with cedar boards carved with knops or gourds and open flowers and
then covered with pure gold. This room must have been without light. In it was placed
the Ark   (Ibid. 6:18,19).
The golden cube geometrically expressed something of a circle or rather a sphere constructed from noble metal, that is, perfection.

This place was ordained by God to be Heaven to a fallen world. One would not simply enter it or boldly reclaim it. One might only approach it slowly, cautiously, and through a process of personal sanctification:

Because it is written, "Be ye holy; for I Am Holy."    (1 Peter 1:16)
Recklessness among the uninitiated or even incaution among priests entering the Tabernacle would result in death (Lev 16:2-34). The important point here, then, is not the interior design of the Temple in and of itself but rather the inner state of those who approached it. Ultimately, the blueprint governing the Tabernacle layout was the intended transformation of the one who would enter it. The ritual did not, and does not, have intrinsic meaning. It is intended to focus the mind and soul of fallen men upon the return to God. The purpose of treading the path from east to west is to effect an inner transformation, that one might, in a sense, become Eden, that is, union and harmony with God.

An expected outcome of worship in the Tabernacle or Temple was to ascend to the upper reaches of the human state becoming angelic:

The priests in the Jerusalem Temple identified themselves as angels described by Enoch
.... The fifth-century priest Malachi (whose name actually means "my angel") described
priests as "angels of the Lord" (Mal 2:7) .... The Sabbath Songs among the Dead Sea Scrolls
describe these angel priests as Jesus knew them. They were part of the great light of the
holy of holies, their service of worship was dazzling, and the vestments of the angels were
those of the priests .... Other texts found among the Dead Sea Scrolls show clearly that
the priests were angels who stood in eternity "illumined with perfect light forever."
                                                                  (Margaret Barker, An Extraordinary Gathering of Angels, 142)
As we discussed in our reflection on Michaelmas, God's Creation is a continuous space. Angels are able to descend into human form and lower as humans are capable of descending further down into animal nature. (People today shockingly boast of "getting in touch with my inner animal.") The purpose of the Temple is to focus our ascent upon our angel nature and higher. This is the design of the Tabernacle and Temple, and it is the design passed on to the earliest Christians, preserved to the present day in the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, that is, Orthodoxy.

In the Orthodox Church today the Sanctuary continues to represent the Holy of Holies. No animal products of any kind may enter (save beeswax and wool). The Orthodox Altar, recalling the golden cube of the Tabernacle and First Temple, continues to be constructed as a cube. Orthodox life also gives away these family ties:

Monastic life in the Orthodox tradition is called the angelic estate. .... [Monks] are
caught up in the divine love that inspires the angels. .... This does not happen without
a profound turning around of the mind and illumination of the heart. The heart is pierced
with light like a seraphic flame. The eye of the heart opens and becomes all-seeing, seeing
like the cherubim, all eye. The light encircles within like angelic wheels within wheels.
The Kingdom of Heaven is really within us. The throne of God is within us. The sanctuary
and holy of holies is within us. .... Orthodoxy means right glorification. It is what the
angels do.    (Abbot Silouan, Monastery of St. Antony and St. Cuthbert)
In 2012, His Beatitude Metropolitan Jonah, First Hierarch of the Orthodox Church in America, invited Margaret Barker to speak at St. Vladimir's Seminary. Mrs. Barker, arguably the most prolific scholar devoted to First Temple spirituality, saw Orthodox worship for the first time (she is Methodist). She said that it was not strange to her but rather familiar, for it was something like the liturgies she pictured practiced by the "angel priests" of the First Temple. (See Margaret Barker, Papers, "Now I See," 2008)

How different all this is from the liturgies of the West, which are more grounded in sacrifice than in spiritual transformation. Following the Roman Church's departure from the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church in the eleventh century, the theology of sacrifice dominated, led by an Italian Benedictine monk named Anselmo. Western Churches would become oriented, that is, situated from the west to east. The idea is that one must pass through the table of death (the Altar where the body of Jesus is laid for sacrifice) in order to pass on to the rising sun in east, signifying a return to Paradise (a word found on the eastern apse walls of early Western churches).

Jesus alone is said to effect union with God, not ourselves participating in His example of sanctification. But we think of St. Paul's words characterizing our own

....bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.    (Rom 12:1)
Remember that Jesus harrows filthy Hell by virtue of His incommensurable Purity and Holiness. He is in His Person the example par excellence of union with God, which is the Holy of Holies, which is the Kingdom of Heaven. Yes, He alone can do this, but He has summoned His Disciples to the Mount of Transfiguration because He intends for us to follow. He is the pioneer of our faith (Heb 12:2).

The aim of Orthodox worship is not to offer a sacrifice over and over in the spirit of Penal Substitution Atonement, but rather to effect At-One-Ment with God — a return to Eden and thence to Heaven, ascending back into our higher, we might say, angelic natures. The Lord Jesus is the Temple (Jn 2:21). He is the perfection of Heaven in earth and earth in Heaven. He has made it possible for the veil to be removed that all may enter the Holy of Holies, which is why the veil is rent at His crucifixion (Lu 23:45).

The antiquity of these ideas in Christian tradition is seen in many places including the holy icon accompanying this reflection — depicting John the Baptist, the man of Eden, dressed only in natural clothes, eating only manna, fragrant of the morning of the earth. He cherished and kept his angelic nature (given all of us at birth), signified by his wings, and then called to his brothers and sisters in seraphic love to be cleansed of the world that they too might ascend toward Heaven. St. Peter characterized his ministry as a second Noah's flood (all that baptism water), suggesting a journey westward, through and past the flood of Noah, to our original harmony and happiness in Eden and union with God, signifying High Heaven.

In our Epistle lesson this morning, St. Paul describes Jesus breaking "down the middle wall of separation." Jews of the spiritual school would have pictured the Temple and the wall or veil separating us from God:

And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the middle.    (Lu 23:45)
And of course this is the point of our Epistle lesson today:
Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone, in Whom the whole building,
being fitted together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also
are being built together for a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.    (Eph 2:20:22)
The first century worship in Herod's Temple, dominated by Pharisees and Sadducees, would have been seen as little more than idolatry, helping us to understand Jesus treatment of the money-changers (Jn 2:13-16) and St. Paul's repeated attacks on the legalism associated with Temple worship (passim, Pauline Correspondence).

Through this we are able to understand present-day worship as a successor to Temple "angelic worship" — that is, priests ascending to their higher nature and meeting with angels in the most holy place. We are better able to understand Jesus when He tells Nathaniel that he will see angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man (Jn 1:51). We begin to grasp the nature of human life as a journey that is angelic in its essence, that each of us is a Temple in which the middle wall is to be broken down, as we ascend to an original, Edenic nature — that when St. Paul and St. Peter describe each of us as being a Temple (1 Cor 6:19-20) or as living stones built into a spiritual house (1 Peter 1:5), we understand.

May I say one last thing this morning about the Essenes, who wrote of a luminous figure standing above all. He was called "the Son of Man." He possessed Divine powers. He would act as judge in the last times. He would sit in a throne of glory unto the ages of ages. They called Him the "Teacher of Righteousness."

Do we know such a One Who greatly valued righteousness and who taught it?

What is righteousness? It is purity. It is to be emptied of every ungodly thing, to be trued and tuned to the perfection of the Divine Mind and Holy Spirit. This would have been righteousness in the mind of the first century Jew. This is our life — to hunger and thirst for that purity, to be cleansed of every unworthy thought and deed, and to see with opened eyes the bodiless powers, the Son of God, His Father, and ourselves in a vast unity of light ....
".... that they all may be One, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You;
that they also may be One in Us ...."   (Jn 17:21)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.