3 posts tagged “christianity”
If you have not seen this movie yet, YOU MAY NOT WANT TO READ FURTHER, as I want to explore some particulars that you may prefer to draw your own conclusions about without predisposition.
If we believe comments on IMDB, the main character, Father Anatoly, is "played by unique and genius Russian actor/musician/now-hermit- Petr Mamonov. The movie actually reflects the real current life and spirituality of the actor."
As I prepared to return to work tomorrow, I was tempted to see that action as my version of hauling coal, the constant "obedience" of Fr. Anatoly. But with further reflection, I think the coal, and the shipwreck, and the rickety boardwalk that the near-monk built between his little island and the shipwreck, are all further symbols of the life he's repenting of. At the beginning of the film, the young Anatoly is found by Nazi's hiding in that same pile of coal, and he betrays his captain by revealing to the Nazi's where the captain is hiding in the coal. So to me the coal is basically the symbol of Anatoly's previous cowardice and betrayal, which he repents for throughout his life, while he at the same time converts the symbol of his shipwrecked life into heat for the church and monastery he now labors for. He daily walks that boardwalk back to the place of his failure, and hauls the remembrance of his shame back to the furnace where it's converted by fire into a service to God.
Stretching things a bit more, it occurs to me that the Nazi's at the beginning of the film, by ridiculing and debasing the young Anatoly, represent satan in the way he works constantly not just to prevent salvation, but to destroy human dignity. The captain, once his hiding place is betrayed, displays dignity in the face of imminent death (unlike Anatoly). I'm not sure what to make yet of his fate, though it's interesting to contrast how his life turns out with that of Fr. Anatoly. The captain develops into one who has all the trappings of success, yet there are hints of fear in his life, having to carefully guard what he says amongst party operatives.
Getting back to Fr. Anatoly and the meaning of the coal and shipwreck... I'm a little confused, having read that one should not dwell on past sins, lest he be pulled back into them (maybe it was St. John of San Francisco?). If my take on the coal is right, then I'll have to figure out how one should balance a remembrance of past shortcomings for purposes of repentance with St. Paul's exhortation to forget what is behind and press on... But I've seen in the Lives of the Saints some hints of doing exactly what Fr. Anatoly is doing in the movie. It just seems significant to me that Fr. Anatoly lives in constant proximity to the shipwreck, and goes back to it everyday, and by the end of his life (while lamenting that his sins still weigh him down), has still not finished removing that pile of coal.
A final coal comment - I noticed that the abbot, Fr. Filaret, attempts to take on the same obedience for a while, but finds himself unable to do it. The film seems to highlight that Fr. Anatoly has to relieve Fr. Filaret of the wheelbarrow load. On the surface it seems that Fr. Anatoly is simply more fit for the work and used to it, but I think they're telling us that each one has to offer up his own failures in constant repentance. I can't do it like another, in part because my sin is unique and, from a centric perspective, greater than that of anyone else (as Fr. Hopko says, we are each the greatest of sinners, because we don't compare ourselves to each other - we just know).
I think the whole movie is full of these symbols, so I may need to watch it again before we start loaning it to friends.
By the way, I don't know how much of the movie is based on real people or real events, but I'm tempted to see Fr. Anatoly as a composite of two characters in Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov. He seems part (like one third) Elder Zosima, and part the "deranged" monk Fr. Ferapont who people are afraid of at the monastery. I might be totally off on this, but Fr. Anatoly was criticized for similar things that Elder Zosima was, and exhibited clairvoyance in very similar ways (the woman whose dead husband turned out to really be alive was similar to one who Elder Zosima counseled), and the "demons everywhere in the room" scene is similar to Fr. Ferapont's ravings in Karamazov. I hadn't respected the monk Ferepont, but will have to go back sometime after seeing Ostrov to see if he was in the part of a Holy Fool.
More later, God willing.
Among the most important events of the past hundred years has taken place in Moscow, Russia, with the reunification of the 1,000 year-old Russian Orthodox Church with the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia(ROCOR).
The reunification ends more than 80 years of painful separation that commenced with the communist takeover of Russia in 1917. Faithful Orthodox who fled the communist oppression formed ROCOR, while those who remained in country endured persecution while variously feigning obedience and carefully defying the regime, trying to keep the atheistic government from extinguishing Christianity as the lifeblood of the nation. After Christianity had been advanced from the great Patriarchates of Rome, Constantinople, Antioch, Jerusalem and Alexandria to the Slavic people by Sts. Cyril and Methodius, and the faith was embraced by Prince Vladimir over a millenium ago, the foundation was set for the center of Christianity to move to Moscow (the "third Rome") as muslims overran the other centers of the Faith. Orthodox Christianity was upheld from Russia as the Islamist assault continued - until western socialist ideals found root in Russia and the Church was split between those who fought and died locally and those who fought from abroad. The great reunification took place on the Feast of Ascension in Christ the Savior Cathedral in Moscow, was broadcast nationally, drew enormous crowds of weeping and cheering Christians in Russia, and was praised by Orthodox jurisdictions throughout the world and by the Roman Catholic Church. The historic event did not receive attention in America.
In other world news, after Roman Catholics in Italy learned of a proposal to
In our final news story, with the passing of televangelist Jerry Falwell, the predominantly protestant United States claimed again to be the bastion of Christianity on earth.
If we are to say we're not gnostic, that God is the creator of matter as well as spirit and therefore the body is good as the spirit is good, then why did so many of the Orthodox Saints mortify their bodies and work so hard to deny physical needs?
I found enlightenment at Dr. David Bradshaw's emerging web site: http://www.uky.edu/~dbradsh/
In a talk Dr. Bradshaw presented at Asbury College, he said,
"I am sure you are all aware of the commandment of St. Paul to "make not provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof". You are probably also aware that the flesh is not the body... Perhaps the simplest way to understand flesh is that it is self-love. It is our innate tendency to seek our own comfort and security rather than acting, feeling, and thinking in a way that is permeated with the love of God. It manifests itself through the whole range of sins and passions: hatred, anger, gluttony, lust, sloth, and all the others.
Now the Fathers were well aware that the flesh is not the body. However, they thought that the surest way to conquer the flesh is, in fact, by disciplining the body. The reason is that the flesh manifests itself at the most elemental level as love for one's own body. To meet it on it's own turf, so to speak, one must confront the body and it's power of domination. This does not mean neglecting the body. lt means habitually denying one's bodily urges and replacing them with urges of the spirit.
The desire for food must be met by fasting.
The desire to let the mind coast... must be met by prayer and study of Scripture.
The desire for sleep must be met by vigils.
The desire for physical security must be met by almsgiving.
The desire for distraction and idle chatter must be met by silence and solitude.
And all of this must be done regularly enough that you actually WANT to pray more than you want to plop down in front of the TV.
This is very difficult. It is especially difficult to be done alone. That is why practices such as communal prayer and regular periods of fasting were so important in the early Church. Difficult though it may be, ascetic struggle is necessary if ones most basic habits and inclinations are to be reoriented away from love of self and toward love of God."
This makes sense to me. May God grant me the fortitude to follow in the example of the saints, who mortified the flesh and gained Christ.