Christians and Hymns, Part 2

Another early Church father who understood the 'why' of hymn-singing was Basil of Caesarea (†379). In his Discourse on Psalm 1, he writes:

The Spirit mixed sweetness of melody with doctrine so that inadvertently we would absorb the benefit of the words through gentleness and ease of hearing. O the wise invention of the teacher who contrives that in our singing we learn what is profitable, and that thereby doctrine is somehow more deeply impressed upon our souls.

The conscious or unconscious absorption of a message, with music as its medium, is a powerful tool. Today's marketing world knows this very well, associating a product with particular mood music. From the 1970s onwards, technology has even allowed "backmasking" - the insertion of a subliminal secret message when a music track is played backwards.

All this was unknown to the first Christians, of course. What they did understand, however, was the need to confess spiritual truth aloud: not just to 'believe in your heart', but also to 'confess with your lips' [Romans 10:9]. Or in Basil's words, to impress doctrine more deeply on their souls.

For this they had a clear and obvious model: the Jews. At first, Christianity was a Jewish sect. The early Christians continued to worship at the Temple and to attend synagogues. It was therefore inevitable that Jewish methods of performing music were incorporated into Christian worship.

In particular, the church continued to use the book of Psalms. Basil again:

Now the prophets teach certain things, the historians and the Law teach other, and Proverbs provides still a different sort of advice, but the Book of Psalms encompasses the benefit of them all. It foretells what is to come and memorializes history; it legislates for life, gives advice on practical matters, and serves in general as a repository of good teachings.

In other words, if it is important to confess God's truth aloud, then how better than to sing scripture. Not only is there no risk of emotionalism or error, but also the addition of music aids the memorising of the words.

How exactly this was done - and what implications that might have for today, I hope to look at next time.

The Grateful Heart

Phil Whittall has the knack for getting me thinking. This post on his Simple Pastor blog looks at the logical corollary to the issue of generosity, namely gratitude.

Taking first the aspect of gratitude to God for His many mercies, where better to follow this up historically than with the following section from the "Long Rule (alternatively "Detailed Rule") for Monks, by Basil of Caesarea († 379).

What words can adequately describe God’s gifts? They are so numerous that they defy enumeration. They are so great that any one of them demands our total gratitude in response.

Yet even though we cannot speak of it worthily, there is one gift which no thoughtful man can pass over in silence. God fashioned man in his own image and likeness; he gave him knowledge of himself; he endowed him with the ability to think which raised him above all living creatures; he permitted him to delight in the unimaginable beauties of paradise, and gave him dominion over everything upon earth.

Then, when man was deceived by the serpent and fell into sin, which led to death and to all the sufferings associated with death, God still did not forsake him. He first gave man the law to help him; he set angels over him to guard him; he sent the prophets to denounce vice and to teach virtue; he restrained man’s evil impulses by warnings and roused his desire for virtue by promises. Frequently, by way of warning, God showed him the respective ends of virtue and of vice in the lives of other men. Moreover, when man continued in disobedience even after he had done all this, God did not desert him.

No, we were not abandoned by the goodness of the Lord. Even the insult we offered to our Benefactor by despising his gifts did not destroy his love for us. On the contrary, although we were dead, our Lord Jesus Christ restored us to life again, and in a way even more amazing than the fact itself, for his state was divine, yet he did not cling to his equality with God, but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave.

He bore our infirmities and endured our sorrows. He was wounded for our sake so that by his wounds we might be healed. He redeemed us from the curse by becoming a curse for our sake, and he submitted to the most ignominious death in order to exalt us to the life of glory. Nor was he content merely to summon us back from death to life; he also bestowed on us the dignity of his own divine nature and prepared for us a place of eternal rest where there will be joy so intense as to surpass all human imagination.

How, then, shall we repay the Lord for all his goodness to us? He is so good that he asks no recompense except our love: that is the only payment he desires. To confess my personal feelings, when I reflect on all these blessings I am overcome by a kind of dread and numbness at the very possibility of ceasing to love God and of bringing shame upon Christ because of my lack of recollection and my preoccupation with trivialities.

Simplicity - an Imperative for Now

Back in May 2011 I posted this. In particular I wanted to 'big up' Mark Powley's phrase: The pendulum is swinging back to community.

Already I could see a number of branches growing out from that trunk, and the first that I set out to explore was the twin theme of SIMPLICITY and SUSTAINABILITY. My last six posts used Basil of Caesarea's timeless thoughts and provocations to illustrate the theme.

I had thought to move on to the next branch, but then Martin Charlesworth posted this on the Jubilee Blog. It arrested me, challenged me, and rang such bells with all that I've been posting from Basil, that I commend it to you here.

What I have tried to underpin historically, Martin shouts from the rooftop as a word for today. Here are his concluding points.

Simplicity is more about an attitude of heart.

Simplicity is the willingness to ask the hard questions about what we own.

Simplicity is the willingness to be thankful for what we have, rather than restless for what we hope to acquire.

Simplicity is about choosing not to define ourselves by what we own.

Simplicity is about staring out materialism.

Simplicity is about the exciting risk of faith in giving away as much as possible.

Simplicity is about being deeply thankful for the things we possess and then finding joy in living for people.

Simplicity is about remembering the poor every day and thinking about the rich only about once a month.

Simplicity is about travelling lightly through this world.

Simplicity is about following Jesus – the master of simplicity.

The pendulum swinging back to community? I think so!

A Sliding Scale Of Need?

As we have seen in recent posts, Basil of Caesarea's stance on wealth and poverty is blunt and uncompromising, but also wholly relevant to today, where consumerism has achieved almost god-like status.

This piece shows that Basil was also a keen and unflinching observer of human nature - and human excuses. The writer identifies

'the human tendency to adjust the definition of "need" to fit one's current level of income'.

Basil, he says, was on to this 1600 years ago. His homily (practical sermon) on the man in Jesus' parable, I Will Tear Down My Barns [and Build Bigger Ones] treats the barns not so much as symbols of wealth but rather as representing our definition of needs based on our circumstances.

'In effect', continues the article, 'Basil says that if we never have any extra to share, this is due to the fact that whenever we find ourselves in possession of a surplus, we immediately adjust our definition of need to fit the new situation.'

(You say) "I will pull down my barns and build larger ones.” But if you fill these larger ones, what do you intend to do next? Will you tear them down yet again only to build them up once more? What could be more ridiculous than this incessant toil, laboring to build and then laboring to tear down again?

In his sermon "To the Rich", Basil sees this as a form of madness. "Those who have acquired wealth and have great possessions, desire more of the same, nursing the sickness by perpetual accumulation. Having so much here and now fails to bring them happiness, since they grieve over what they don't have, and convince themselves they're lacking. 'We're poor!', they say. And it's true, because a poor person lacks much, and much are you lacking because of your insatiable desires! What was it that killed Naboth? [1 Kings 21] Was it not King Ahab's greed for his vineyard?"

And so, Basil concludes, you commit injustice to so many when you could have helped them - which applies to any level on the scale of wealth.

The Poor Have Faces

As we have seen from previous posts, Basil of Caesarea was adamant that the hoarding of personal wealth was unnatural and a crime against compassion and justice. For him, the issue was both logical and clear:

"If we all took only what was necessary to satisfy our own needs, giving the rest to those who don't have enough, no-one would be rich and no-one would be poor."
(Homily on I Will Tear Down My Barns)

Basil wasn't alone in saying these things at the end of the 4th century. John Chrysostom and Gregory of Nyssa were equally outspoken. What makes Basil stand out, however, is his humanity. To others, rich and poor were more of a moral dilemma, an issue (albeit of vital importance) without faces. You can resonate with their arguments, value their prophetic courage in offending the powerful, but remain strangely unmoved inside.

With great rhetorical skill, Basil gives the poor an identity as people. In various sermons and homilies he paints verbal pictures: the street urchins huddled in doorways, the old man gone blind through neglect and starvation, the agonised mother forced to sell a child into slavery to pay off a debt.

It was this gut-level compassion that also stirred Basil to do something practical: the building of the Basiliad outside Caesarea, a complex which included a poor-house, hospice, and hospital, and was regarded at the time as one of the wonders of the world.

This page offers some thoughts and practical considerations of how the vision of the Basiliad could affect our Christian discipleship today.

Love Means Distribution

Given Basil of Caesarea's stance on simplicity and sustainability (see last three posts), it will come as no surprise that he pushed hard for sharing and justice. For Basil, distribution of one's surplus to those in need is an imperative, not an option .

If you have been blessed with more money and goods than others, it is so you can meet the needs of those others, he argues. 'It takes wealth to care for the needy; a little paid out for the needs of each person, and all at once there is sharing. Whoever loves his neighbour as himself [as Christ taught], will not hold on to more than his neighbour has.' (Sermon To the Rich)

This post and this article show that Basil's contemporary, John Chrysostom, bishop of Antioch, echoed these sentiments and expressed them even more forcefully.

"Wealth is like a snake; it will twist around the hand and bite unless one knows how to use it properly." The huge injustices that wealth creates are intolerable to him. But Chrysostom is no proto-Marxist. "Should we require soldiers to come and seize the rich person’s gold and distribute it among his destitute neighbors? Should we beg the emperor to impose a tax on the rich so great that it reduces them to the level of the poor and then to share the proceeds of that tax among everyone?"

"Equality imposed by force would achieve nothing, and do much harm. The rich whose gold was taken away would feel bitter and resentful; while the poor who received the gold form the hands of soldiers would feel no gratitude, because no generosity would have prompted the gift. Far from bringing moral benefit to society, it would actually do moral harm. Material justice cannot be accomplished by compulsion, a change of heart will not follow. The only way to achieve true justice is to change people’s hearts first — and then they will joyfully share their wealth." (Sermon On Living Simply)

Disciplines Of Simplicity

This post from GodFirst Blog seemed to chime in harmony with my last two posts on simplicity and sustainability.

It is a summary of key practical disciplines for a simpler life, drawn from Richard Foster's seminal work, Celebration of Discipline, which first appeared in 1978. I reproduce a few below, with echoes from Basil of Caesarea sixteen centuries earlier.

* Buy things for their usefulness rather than for status. Basil: 'When I enter a house and see it shimmering with every kind of crass trinket, I realise that the owner may have given what was soulless a facelift, but he has an unbeautified soul'.

* Develop a habit of giving things away. Basil attacks the 'strange madness' whereby, 'when wealth overflows, it gets buried in the ground in secret places, "in case they need it one day".' And this, while the poor and hungry clamour at their gate.

* Reject anything that will breed oppression of others. Basil castigates the rich: 'How many people could one of your gold-encrusted fingers release from debt? How many broken-down homes could be rebuilt? You say you are doing no-one an injustice, yet you plunder so much for yourselves!'

* Learn to enjoy things without owning them. Basil: 'The world was created for the common benefit of all. The animals use in common the plants that grow naturally from the earth, and all living creatures permit each other to satisfy their need for food. But we hoard that which is common, and keep for ourselves what belongs to many others.'

Return To Simplicity

Basil of Caesarea wrote his sermon To the Rich sixteen centuries ago, but the context was strikingly similar to today. 'Those who have recently grown rich desire more of the same... They ought to be happy and contented, but immediately they yearn to be equal with the super-rich.' Meanwhile, 'thousands huddle in misery in doorways.'

But a time of crisis had struck, in the form of a great famine. Everyone was afraid of what might come. Social structures were under threat, established patterns of life could not be trusted. Not unlike the global threat of terrorism today.

Basil used the opportunity to press for justice, mercy and equality, but above all for simplicity.

"The soul becomes like the things it gives itself to," he writes in his Homily on Humility, "and takes the character and appearance of what it does. So let your demeanour, your dress, your walking, your sitting down, the nature of your food, the quality of your manner, your house and what it contains, aim at simplicity.

"And let your speech, your singing, the way you relate to your neighbour, be in accord with humility rather than with vanity. In your words let there be no empty pretence, in your singing no excess sweetness, in conversation be not ponderous or overbearing. In everything refrain from seeking to appear important."

Most of all, Basil pressed for a voluntary redistribution of wealth and resources, as in the first Church at Jerusalem. As this writer sees it, Basil 'saw it as a rule of life for all Christians. Moved by the extreme social needs of the population, and enlightened by the Scriptures, Basil insisted that the produce of the earth was intended for all. While God the Creator had indeed distributed it unevenly, he had done this with the intention that the rich should share with the poor.'

To Basil, a refusal to embrace simplicity and sustainability is a crime. "Someone who steals clothes off someone’s back is called a thief. Why should we refer to the one who does not clothe the naked, while having the means to do so, as anything else? The bread that you have belongs to the hungry, the clothes that are in your cupboard belong to the naked, the shoes that are rotting in your possession belong to the barefooted, the money that you have buried belongs to the destitute. And so you commit injustice to so many when you could have helped them." (Homily I Will Tear Down My Barns)

Back To Sustainability

Continuing the theme from the last post, that 'the pendulum is swinging back to community', I have been considering the evidence. There aren't many indications, from what I can see, of people saying "let's move in together and share everything". But there are definite signs of thinking Christians reaching out for particular strands of what make up community.

One of these is sustainability: the belief that there are enough resources on earth to provide for its population, if only these resources could be used wisely and equally. The Breathe Network (see last post) is "a Christian network for simpler living, connecting people who want to live a less consumerist, more generous, more sustainable life". Their clip "Enough" will give you a flavour (read the comments too).

So, is sustainability in the New Testament mandate? It is certainly the thought behind 2 Corinthians 9:8. God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that you may always have enough of everything and may provide in abundance for every good work.

But there is a much stronger tie-up with the monastic community vision. Basil, bishop of Caesarea (c.330-379), wrote at some length on this issue. In his sermon "To the Rich", he writes:

"But how do you make use of money? By dressing in expensive clothing? Won’t two yards of tunic suffice you, and the covering of one coat satisfy all your need of clothes? Is it for food’s sake that you have such a demand for wealth? One loaf is enough to fill a belly."

Basil inveighs against those "who leave grain to rot but will not feed the starving", who choose ivory sofas and silver tables when ordinary wood is just as suitable. This is more than cheap swipes at material wealth. For Basil, a man steeped in the Christian community vision of the Desert Fathers, the inherent sin of such behaviour is its refusal to accept simplicity for the sake of sustainability. It is as much a sin against the earth as it is against the poor.

This is the context in which Basil in his day, and concerned Christians like the Breathe Network today, saw the devious lie of consumerism and turned against it. To this we shall return.

Is There a Social Entrepreneur in the House?

I've been delving into a new area for me: the subject of Christian "social entrepreneurship". I hope to unpack it a bit in my posts this month.

According to this article, a social entrepreneur is usually a creative individual who questions established norms and harnesses entrepreneurial spirit and dynamism to enrich and help society rather than make themselves rich. We're talking about a blend of philanthropist, visionary, business thinker and 'go-getter' - and for a Christian, a strong faith.

Christian social care is as old as Christianity itself, of course; caring for widows and orphans is foundational to godliness (the Bible, James 1:27). Perhaps the first instance of a more visionary enterprise was Basil the Great's Basiliad in 4th century Caesarea. This was

"the great philanthropic foundation established by St. Basil where the poor, the diseased, orphans and the aged could receive food, shelter, and medical care free of charge from monks and nuns who lived out their monastic vocation through a life of service, working with physicians and other lay people. The New City was in many ways the culmination of St. Basil’s social vision, the fruit of a lifetime of effort to develop a more just and humane social order within the region of Caesarea, where he grew up and later served as a priest and a bishop."

This line continued primarily through Christian hospitals, only really broadening to other areas with the coming of the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century. As poverty increased and health deteriorated through the factories, a window of opportunity opened for Christian social entrepreneurs. Suddenly prison reform, schools for poor children, cooperative societies, trustee savings banks and suchlike were big on the agenda, and gifted Christian men and women stood up with vision and application to see them through.

In my next posts I hope to pay tribute to a few of these and to see whether, as this site claims, the time is ripe today for a new generation of Christian social entrepreneurs.