April 8: We Are More Than Conquerors
♫ Music:
Day 53 - Sunday, April 8th
Title: We Are More Than Conquerors
Scripture: Romans 8:31-38
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Sonnet 29
By William Shakespeare
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
ALL SOULS AFLAME AND ONLY SOME ARE BURNED
There are sundry ways a soul can burn and the difference lies in whether we are consumed or find our troubles transcended. Beyond scripture, perhaps nothing better illustrates this idea than a lonely painting which hangs above the altar of a tiny Orthodox chapel, bearing witness to a faith which somehow managed to survive the horrors of Dachau. Art can teach us many things, and this work is far from the exception. As Thomas Aquinas asserted, those things which are beautiful have a similar capacity for transcendent revelation as those which are true or apparently good. Such things are various ways by which a single positive reality is rationally apprehended, showing truths about ourselves and God that we need if we are to live our lives wisely and well.
To those who find life unbearable and do not wish to go on, the simplicity of the Dachau icon merits our attention as it bears account that faith can survive and thrive in the most harrowing of ordeals. It shows us actual surviving Greek Orthodox Christians who held fast to their Christ through the living hell of concentration camp life, gathering several days after Allied liberation to sing and celebrate the Easter service. In the open prison gate they stand around the image of a risen Christ as the ultimate conqueror of death who has finally come to rescue them. Despite years of torture and imprisonment as religious dissidents their spirits remain uncrushed, and their souls shine undimmed. In the aftermath of the greatest and most violent of wars they gather together to burst forth in songs, which must have shaken the very gun towers of the SS. The journal of one survivor exclaims the depth and passion of their feeling in their eruption of spontaneous joy:
“The souls of all are aflame, swimming in light…We chant “Christ is Risen”…and its echo reverberates everywhere and sanctifies this place…. the tragic symbol of the world without Christ, no longer exists. And the hymn of the life of faith was going up from all the souls…”
Historical accounts show us that these Orthodox priests and monks were the exception, rather than the rule. Other liberated prisoners had gone mad. Others were released to lives of bitterness and hate. Many who had previously claimed faith would never again pass from the shadows of their experience to raise their voices in prayer, for God’s abandonment was too dark. And yet, the lingering smell of burning flesh from the crematorium, the sight of other liberated prisoners kicking the lifeless bodies of their former tormentors, and the memory of good friends who brutally lost their lives to Nazis could not dissuade the Orthodox from worshipping.
These men could truly say “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered” as, for most, their crime was nothing more than devout attention and commitment to the Christian faith. How many of us in the modern West actually know how it feels to walk in such a valley of death and shadow? Such a place shows us shades and monsters that try our toughest certainties and our most resilient character qualities. It is in these moments that we hope the testing of our faith will show us conquerors, but so often what we feel is a frail, shaking sense that all is bound to fail. Our best intentions will be foiled and our basest instincts will reveal us as the weak and cowardly animals we fear we are. So runs the narrative in hard times, and so runs our self-talk in times of trial if we are not careful and do not attend to the nature of our thoughts. Conventional thinking would have us resentful and cynical toward God and all we have loved. Like those without faith in Dachau we might give up on God’s intervention, forsake our prayers and either die without hope or wait for the day of retaliation when we can avenge ourselves on our persecutors. The thinking of faith requires transcendence. In moments of suffering we would do well to remember the example of King David, who at the sight of his own city burning amidst the loss of his own family and position of honor did not despair, but chose instead to encourage himself in the Lord. His confidence was at rest in God’s ultimate goodness.
Sometimes the only death we face is the daily “quiet desperation” of anonymity or unfulfilled desire as our material or relational hopes perish and our sense of purpose is overshadowed in futility. We do not experience imprisonment, familial loss, or torture for the sake of Christ. Christ is no less the liberator for us. The Gospels tell us that God loved us so much he would stop at nothing to redeem us. Scripture elaborates that while we may suffer for a little while, our victory is ultimately assured and everything unjust or hellish that has plagued our earthly days will pass and be no more. The mere seconds of this existence will fade to nothing before the unspeakable glory and joy of an eternity where all is right and all our desires are fulfilled. In considering our own weakness and infirmity of spirit in the face of trouble, we can remember the great crowd of witnesses that watch over us, cheering us on, reminding us of God’s goodness and beauty in the darkness of their own stories. Among this crowd, the Orthodox monks of Dachau stand.
Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
We thank you and praise you Lord for the gift or your victory over death, for the gift of holy awe that comes from realizing what You accomplished on the cross for us. May we always know you as our way through the desert. You are our safe passage through treacherous waters and the home that awaits us at the end of all our journeys. Help us remember that You are always with us and that Your way is always before us. Teach us to recognize You in one another and with deep gratitude continue to bear witness to the life and the hope with which You sustain the world.
Amen
--Adapted from God for Us edited by Greg Pennoyer and Gregory Wolfe
Jamie Bos
Academic Advisor/Freshmen Seminar Instructor
Biola University
About the Artwork:
Jesus Christ Conqueror of Death at Dachau
Artist unknown
Russian Orthodox Memorial Chapel of Dachau
Dachau Memorial Site, Germany
This painting resides in a small chapel located just outside the entrance to the crematoria area of the Dachau Memorial site, the Nazi concentration camp where reported 32,000-documented deaths occurred. The chapel was built by members of the Russian armed forces and was dedicated in 1995, the 50th anniversary of the liberation of the Dachau Concentration Camp by the American troops during World War II. In the entire history of the Orthodox Church there has probably never been an Easter service like the one at Dachau in 1945. In a cellblock used by Catholic priests to say daily Mass, several Greek, Serbian, and Russian priests and one Serbian deacon, wearing makeshift vestments made from towels, gathered with several hundred Greek, Serbian, and Russian prisoners to celebrate the Paschal Vigil.
A prisoner named Rahr described the scene: “Greek and Serbian priests together with a Serbian deacon adorned the make-shift 'vestments' over their blue and gray-striped prisoners' uniforms. Then they began to chant, changing from Greek to Slavic, and then back again to Greek. The Easter Canon, the Easter Sticheras—everything was recited from memory. The Gospel—In the beginning was the Word—also from memory. And finally, the Homily of Saint John—also from memory. A young Greek monk from the Holy Mountain stood up in front of us and recited it with such infectious enthusiasm that we shall never forget him as long as we live. Saint John Chrysostomos himself seemed to speak through him to us and to the rest of the world as well!”
On April 29, 1995, the Russian Orthodox Memorial Chapel of Dachau was consecrated and dedicated to the Resurrection of Christ. The chapel holds this icon depicting angels opening the gates of the concentration camp and Christ Himself leading the prisoners to freedom. The simple wooden block conical architecture of the chapel is representative of the traditional funeral chapels of the Russian North. The priests who participated in the 1945 Paschal Liturgy are commemorated at every service held in the chapel, along with all Orthodox Christians who lost their lives “at this place, or at another place of torture.”
About the Music:
“Alleluia, By Death He Conquered Death” from the album From the Baltic Coast
Lyrics:
Alleluia Our Christ
About the Composer:
Georgs Pel?cis (b. 1947) is a Latvian composer and musicologist known for his expertise in the fields of history and theory of counterpoint. He is currently a Professor at the Latvian Academy of Music. Pel?cis' musicological work focuses on musical form in work from the Middle Ages, Renaissance, and Baroque eras. Pel?cis teaches the history of theory and counterpoint at the Latvian Academy of Music, and was the first president of the Riga Center for Early Music. The musical tonality of Georgs Pel?cis seems to reverberate some amazingly clear positive spirit. This very quality, whose genetic ancestry can be found partly in Renaissance and Baroque music and partly in the minimalist aesthetic, brings a spiritual strength to the composer’s creative output and brings to Latvian music a previously unknown
About the Performers:
State Choir Latvija, the largest professional choir in Latvia, was founded in 1942. The cornerstones of the choir’s repertoire are large-scale compositions − oratorios, cantatas, masses, requiems, symphonies and concert performances of operas. Their repertoire also encompasses extensive a cappella programs as well as compositions for chorus and organ. The Choir has developed a creative co-operation with leading symphony orchestras in Latvia, Israel, Germany, Estonia, Lithuania, Spain, Moscow, St Petersburg, and successfully collaborated with many of the world’s greatest conductors.
About the Poet:
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) was an English poet, playwright and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon". His extant works, including collaborations, consist of approximately 39 plays 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright. Published in 1609, the Sonnets were the last of Shakespeare's non-dramatic works to be printed. Scholars are not certain when each of the 154 sonnets was composed, but evidence suggests that Shakespeare wrote sonnets throughout his career for a private readership.
About the Devotional Writer:
Jamie Bos is an Academic Advisor at Biola University. He is originally from Oregon and received his M.A. in Christian Formation from Wheaton College.