The Ordinary Call (brief, curmudgeonly and unsystematic thoughts on vocation)

From the Catholic Illustrators Guild
(I wont look quite this cool on Saturday)

Well, in two days, God willing, the creek declining to elevate - or in upstate NY, the snow declining to fall- I shall be ordained to the sacred order of deacons in Christ's One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.  I have naturally been thinking a lot about the theology and 'practice' of the deaconate.  I admit to never having much sense of a call to the deaconate, except in so far as it is a part of the way to priesthood.  I once heard a lady who was a transitional deacon say she 'didn't identify with the deaconate.'  That comment has stayed with me, and continued to bother me for a number of reasons.  

It bothered me primarily, I think, because I have a very simple theology of vocation in general, which works something like this: if you are ordained a deacon, you are called to be a deacon.

Let me illustrate.  A priest I know once told the story  of a young couple he married, who came to him some weeks later, complaining that they didn't 'feel married.'  Now there may have been any number of underlying problems with their relationship, but he assured them that whatever they felt, they were in fact married.  Calling to ordination is much the same.  Whether we feel like we have been called or not, once ordination has happened, then the calling is clear.  Married people are called to be faithful, however they may feel when they got up this morning, and deacons are called to be deacons, even if they are moving toward the priesthood.  I don't mean of course that those pursuing ordination should not discern whether they have real gifts, just as those who are getting married should be discerning.  Still, once the vows are made, there is no question anymore. We always called first of all to be faithful where we find ourselves.

While I am on the subject of vocation, I should add that I think we often make the notion of a "call" into something rather too mysterious and spiritual.  There are people I know who have had visions and supernatural experiences which lead them to ordained ministry.  There are just as many who simply looked at what is involved in the work of a pastor, looked at their gifts, prayed about it and decided they would seek to be ordained.  Occasionally you'll hear people saying with great assurance that they are called, that they know they are called, that the Church would commit a sin by denying them ordination.

I am thinking of a few bull headed individuals I have known (men and women) who seemed to think that asserting a sense of calling with enough ferocity meant it must be a real calling.  The problem with this is that no one is ordained or called apart from the community of the Church.  If you believe you are called to be a priest or deacon, and the Church disagrees, then you are not somehow a priest or deacon in virtue of that sense of calling, because to be a pastor is always to be a pastor for the people of God. I don't mean that no one is ever wrongly excluded from ordination - people are - but at the same time, there is a real reason that we have ordinations.  God calls, and God ordains, but in the ordinary course of things, he uses the ministry of actual human beings in that process because it is these people who will be receiving ministry from the ordained. Part of being called is therefore being called by the Church, and I think there is a real sense in which that calling is not quite actual until ordination.  

In all this, no doubt, my theological preference for the ordinary and routine probably comes out.  There are individuals with striking charismatic and prophetic ministries, who break all the molds and rise up in the Church; there are individuals who have visionary experiences of calling that are incredibly powerful.  I simply get suspicious whenever we start elevating the exceptional, the idiosyncratic and the exciting above the ordinary and the common elements of life.  God surely acts in both ways, but the incarnation suggests to me that God works first and primarily through the humble and simple, in the form of a craftsman from Nazareth, in the simple realities of water, bread and wine.  Looking for exciting spiritual escapes and experiences is more characteristic of Gnostics than orthodox catholic Christians.

I think this preference for the ordinary is also rather characteristic of the ministry of deacons.  Deacons are not called to absolve, bless or consecrate; They are not called to do the most exciting things in the Church.  Instead, they are called first of all to ministry with the poor, to proclaim the gospel in action in the midst of the people, and to lead the people in prayer. The liturgical duties of a deacon all point toward this.  There is a sense in which a deacon is called to be much more 'in the congregation' than a priest is, in some ways to be much closer to the simple needs of the congregation.  Recall that deacons were first appointed to care for the poor.
The deacon's ministry, I think, is primarily to serve as an image of the ministry of humble service to which all Christians are called. In reality there is nothing concrete a deacon can do which a lay person cannot, and that is part of the point of the ministry of deacons.

At the moment, I am working a part time job at a newly opened Petco in town.  I need to right now to make ends meet.  I will admit freely that I hate retail, and I would rather be able to devote all my energy to full time ministry.  That said, I think there is something good about being in this situation during the time I am a transitional deacon.  There is something right about having to simply get by and try to minister to the people I am working with, through service and prayer.  In fact, I am making it my daily prayer that God would show me how to be a servant to the people I am working with.

Of course, for all the ordinary qualities of the deaconate, it is also the case that deacons have been among the first and greatest of the heroes of the Church, and  there is heroism in the ordinary as well.  St. Stephen, charged with feeding the poor, was also the first martyr; we can also mention St. Laurence, the saint, who while being burnt to death on a large grill requested that his torturers turn him over, "Because I'm done on this side;" or among women deacons, the great St. Olympias, the friend, confidant and supporter of St. John Chrysostom.   I will be praying for all their intercessions this Saturday, and as I undertake the ministry of a deacon.

I aitn't dead yet...

...To quote Granny Weatherwax.  It is hard to believe that it has been six months since I last blogged.  Those six months have been highly interesting, to say the least.  I spent time in DC finishing my Clinical Pastoral Education, learning the city, working at Starbucks to make ends meet, working on my last semester of seminary classes by distance, and finally graduating last month.  I am now looking at Ordination in exactly two weeks.  I moved back to New York, partly because DC was too expensive, and partly because Albany is my home diocese and I needed to be here for a while.
It was a crazy six months, but definitely formative.  Important things happened on a personal and intellectual level for me.  The personal things, I plan to keep personal, but the theological ones I will comment on.  CPE was brutal, mostly in a good sense. It functioned as a sort of ministry boot camp, and I am grateful for it.  I have no desire to function as a hospital chaplain, although I enjoyed the actual interaction with patients and doing visits.  I disliked the theological approach to inter-religious ministry, and that probably deserves a whole post of its own.  I am not basically opposed to inter-religious ministry, and even inter-religious prayer, but it takes some care to know how to do it properly.  Still, I think my experience with CPE, not to mention the extended stay in DC, was both humbling and strengthening, and at least in my own eyes I seem to be a more poised, but less arrogant man for it.

Next, I will say that the last semester of school work was challenging, mostly because of how busy I made myself with other things, and I ended up having to cram a lot of work into the last few weeks.  Oddly, that ended up being a blessing.  I ended up writing a term paper on Hans Urs von Balthasar and Sergius Bulgakov, for a study on Christology that I was doing.  I don't know why I thought this was a good plan, since these men are two of the more challenging, controversial theologians of the last century (Bulgakov was tried for Heresy by his jurisdiction of Russian Orthodox Church, but never condemned), and I was almost totally new to both their works.  Modern theology isn't really my thing.

Anyway, I managed to get a feel for both of these thinkers in the space of about two weeks, reading Mysterium Paschale by Balthasar and The Lamb of God by Bulgakov.  This had the overall effect of something like the intensive language course I took a while back, where a whole semester of Greek is compressed into three weeks or so.  You begin by feel totally overwhelmed, and as if someone is holding your face underwater, but at some point around the middle of week two something happens and you suddenly become able to breathe in the strange new environment.  I am no Bulgakov expert, still less do I claim to understand Balthasar, but I don't feel totally overwhelmed by their ideas any more.  Further, I think discovering Bulgakov has been the most important thing that has happened to me theologically in the last three or four years.

Fr. Sergius Bulgakov

I am not saying I am an out and out 'Bulgakovian,' whatever that would mean; there are some problems with his thought, some of which are pretty serious.  Still, he does provide a way of thinking and speaking about the relationship between God and the World that I find helpful.  Expect more on this, as I attempt to make a return to blogging.

I expect that the blog may take a slightly different path in the near future, as I transition from the life of a seminarian to that of an actively ministering transitional deacon, and finally a priest, but I don't want to let the blog die.  I think it helps me to have it, to get my thoughts out and even from time to time, to start conversations with people.  So anyway, I will be blogging again, especially as I have more sermons to put up. I think my sermons are among my best writings, and I hope they may, in fact, be of use to other preachers who might stumble across the blog.   See you soon.
Peace in Christ
Paul Hunter

Corpus Christi and the CBS

A blessed feast of Corpus Christi to all! Today, (much) of the Western Church celebrates the mysterious grace of Christ's presence in the Eucharist. Today, I am also celebrating being inducted into the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament, the Anglican Devotional Society which seeks to promote the honor due to Christ in this sacrament. I will be inducted at Solemn Evensong and Benediction this evening, at St. Paul's K Street in Washington, DC.

I want to post some reflections on the Eucharist and Christian life today, especially in relation to social justice issues, in honor of the feast. Perhaps later this evening after evensong.

The End of the Year and the Beginning of the Summer

I feel like my blog didn't take off until last Summer really, when I began my internship in New Mexico. Well this year, I have completed my residential training at Trinity, and will be finishing my Seminary education by distance this Fall. I will be spending Summer in DC doing CPE at Washington Hospital Center. For those who don't know, CPE stands for Clinical Pastoral Education, essentially an internship as a Chaplain at a hospital, prison, or hospice which many denominations, including TEC require of their postulants for ordination. I arrived in DC last Friday, and begin my internship next Monday. I am very excited, and more than a little nervous, so your prayers, gentle readers, are coveted. As last year was a particularly productive and spiritually fruitful time for me, I expect this year will be as well - especially since I will be near several dear friends, including Amy Moffitt, the wonderful author of Without a Map and Joshua Gonnerman, a good friend who has garnered some attention recently with this article and its companion piece here.

The next two weeks or so will probably be quiet, but after that, do look for posts and reflections as I begin to dive into more active ministry.

I Love My Seminary

Here is Dr. Don Collett, assistent professor of Old Testament at Trinity, preaching at the Baccalaureate Mass from two weeks ago. Dr. Collett has been one of the two or three professors who have influenced me the most in the last few years at seminary, and he has helped me develop and deep and abiding love for the Old Testament. The Bible faculty at Trinity is really excellent, and probably our strongest point as an academic community. In addition, we have been granted the blessing of having Biblical scholars who are also really exceptional pastors and models of the Christian life on faculty, as well as having really wonderful academic gifts. Dr. Collett also has exceptionally good taste in single malt scotch ;-)

Joss Whedon's (almost) Augustinian Moral Imagination

I am a huge Joss Whedon fan. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are probably my favorite TV showes of all time, and I am reasonably certain that at the end of time, the Divine Liturgy will resume where it left off in Hagia Sophia at the time of the Turkish invasion, and be followed by a showing of the rest of Firefly (and, of course, season 4 of Arrested Development).

So, of course, I had to see The Avengers, written and directed by Mr. Whedon. I am also planning to see Cabin in the Woods, despite a distaste for horror films. Now that the semester is over, and I am don't have final papers hanging over my head, I have a little time to reflect on the film, and give a few thoughts on its moral and, yes, even theological themes.

The Avengers is probably the best comic book movie since the Dark Knight. It's well written, with snappy dialogue and great pacing, that keeps the dramatic tension high. One of the more impressive aspects of the film is how well the incredibly large cast of superheroes are balanced. It would have been very easy for the film to become fragmented, with each character having their own sub-plot, leaving little time for the main action. Think, for example, of the clumsy execution of the Fantastic Four movie with its two dimensional characters that each took up far too much screen time. Each of the Avengers, however, was a relatively well rounded, believable character, because each was given the space to develop through the course of the plot and through their interactions with each other. Whedon has a knack for this kind of group character development.

Like all of Whedon's stories, Avengers has a strong moral element to it. That's not to say it's a preachy film. This is a comic book movie, and wisely doesn't try to be more; but comic books, at least of the super-hero variety, are inherantly moral. Comic books assume a world where moral conflict makes sense, where there are good guys and bad guys. Of course, there have been plenty of bleak, super hero comics, like Alan Moore's V for Vendetta or Watchmen, but those books are precisely subversive attempts to deconstruct the whole mythos of the super-hero. Avengers isn't that sort of comic book movie. It's just a really, really well executed super-hero flick.

While his characters are complex and conflicted, often with major moral flaws, an overview of his stories shows that Whedon still believes in heroes. Behind all the winking post-modern ironies of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel, the title characters of those shows are still champions of virtue. Which is why Whedon is the perfect person to make the ultimate Marvel comic book movie. He has enough sympathy with the moral world of comic books that he can make a movie that is unapologetically entertaining, unapologetically a comic book movie, and not trying to be anything else, while still packing in a bit of moral reflection on power and violence. And of course, we have Marvel and Stan Lee to thank for giving us complex, coflicted super-heroes, another thing Whedon is good at.

One of the most striking moments in the movie is what seems to be Captain America's throw away line, when he is warned not to try to fight with Thor and Loki, the Norse god's (who are in fact extremely powerful aliens in the Marvel universe). Captain America declares that "There's only one God..."
Some people have made rather a big deal about this line, because as much as its a throw away, I think it actually gets at a central moral question in the plot. Loki claims to be a god, and demands worship, but he demands it purely on the basis of power, thus raising the question, is it power alone that deserves worship? Or put more biblically, Whedon is saying "choose this day whom you shall serve."

This discussion is given a little more context with a scene that occurs after Loki has appeared with a show of power in Germany, and demands that a crowd bow before him, because, as he explains, human beings need a master. Freedom is too much for us. An old man in the crowd stands up and says "Not to a man like you."
Loki replies "There are no men like me."
"There will always be men like you." The old man responds.

Here the question is put quite blatantly: what kind of god deserves our worship? who will we bow before?
But again, apart from one passing reference from Captain America, we have no answer. What the film seems to say is that power alone is not enough. Might doesn't make right, and just because one man happens to hold all the power doesn't make him a god. This is another staple Whedon theme.

Whedon's heroes are all outcasts and underdogs, and he has a marked distrust of any sort of power structure. In this, I think he has an affinity with C.S. Lewis, who portrayed Hell as a particularly dreary bureaucratic office in The Screwtape Letters. If you are familiar with Whedon's other projects think of Wolfram and Hart, the literally demonic law firm in Angel, the Alliance in Firefly, or the Watchers council in Buffy, which is bungling and arrogant at best. Evil, in Whedon's universe generally comes in a corporate guise, and I think that is partly because he understands that evil is ultimately a depersonalizing force, something that eats away at the soul and makes a person into a dull, sad, cog in a machine. Evil is not fun, exciting or vital; it is a disappointing emptiness, the opposite of vital. In this, Joss Whedon is a good Augustinian.

The unfortunate thing is that he does not seem to have a corresponding grasp of the Good. Joss Whedon's worlds are all very moral, but there does not seem to be a clear moral center of gravity to them. In fact one of the marked weaknesses of all of Whedon's story telling is the way in which he handles religion. Religious characters are rarely portrayed well, and when they are, they are still somewhat comical, like Shepherd Book in Firefly (although the character showed signs of interesting developments had the show not been cancelled. Sigh...). The religious/ spiritual world of the Buffyverse, is a good example. There are plenty of powers and even 'gods' who mess about with the workings of the world, but in Whedon's storytelling Christian images coexist side by side with neo-Pagan style witchcraft. The spiritual world of Buffy is a post-modern, pluralistic smorgasbord, and there seems to be no one power, let alone a benevolent power, that wins out. This comes across particularly in the final episode of Angel, which concludes with a heroic last stand against Wolfram and Hart's diabolical "Senior Partners," that is heroic and noble, but ultimately there is no assurance of victory.

So where does that leave us? Where do we look for a moral center, according to Whedon's view of things? I think it is no coincidence that we hear a Christian proclamation from Captain America, a character who, having only recently been thawed out from a cryogenic sleep, is a throw back to an earlier age. There are at least two ways I think we could take this. Perhaps Whedon is looking back with a kind of nostalgia on an innocent faith that we could all hold once upon a time, but which is forever lost now. We can't go back to Captain America's old fashioned American values, of which Christian monotheism is a part. On the other hand, maybe Whedon is suggesting that it is precisely in looking to our past that we will find an answer.

In another scene Captain America is given his new uniform, which looks really rather a lot like his old uniform. He asks whether the Stars and Stripes aren't a little old fashioned. "With everything that’s happening, things about to come to light," the designer of the uniform says “people might need a little 'old fashioned.'" I don't want to attribute too much philosophizing to Whedon - he is first of all a story teller, after all, and a first rate one - but I think there is a hint of suggestion that the answer to post-modernity's moral disorientation lies in returning to the past, and even to tradition.

True, we cannot simply go back, and we cannot simply reclaim God as another American value along with Mom and Apple Pie. Perhaps though, we can come to what philosopher Paul Ricoeur famously calls the 'Second Naivete;' The point when we have passed beyond mere criticism of our formerly naive beliefs in God, religion or morality, gotten past the phase of being rebellious adolescents, and we can reclaim our old faith in a new, more mature way. Joss Whedon does not tell us what kind of God to worship, but I think perhaps he points us in a direction, and that direction seems to be toward the God of the Christian Tradition.

Spiritual Friendship

My internet (and sometimes real life!) friends Ron Belgau and Wesley Hill have started a new blog under the title of Spiritual Friendship.  Ron and Wesley are both doctoral students, Ron in philosophy and Wesley in Biblical studies, and both men are also celibate, gay Christians, committed to the traditional Christian sexual ethic. 

Here is how they describe their new blog. 

We embrace the traditional understanding that God created us male and female, and that His plan for sexual intimacy is only properly fulfilled in the union of husband and wife in marriage. However, this blog was born out of frustration with the prevailing narratives about homosexuality from those who embrace this traditionally Christian sexual ethic: an excessive focus on political issues, and the ubiquity of reparative therapy in one form or another.

We want to see more discussion of celibacy, friendship, the value of the single life, and similar topics.

I have gained a lot from the work both these guys are doing, and I think their project is very important for the whole Church, not just those who have homosexual desires.  Recovering a robust theology of friendship and of celibacy is an important part of responding to many of the problems our culture has with understanding love and sex. 
They are also providing a valuable service to the Church by pointing out the genuine homophobia that exists in so many Christian responses to gay people.
I also highly recommend Wesley Hill's book, Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulnes and Homosexuality.  I think this may be the best book out there on the topic right now.

A Shameless Plug

April is National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). You may have heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), where participants write - at least attempt to write - a novel over the month of November. Well, NaPoWriMo is the same basic idea, except participants write a poem a day, every day for the month of April. I first heard about it through the poetic postings of Miss Amy Moffitt, the wonderful author of Without a Map, when she did NaPoWriMo last year. I have been looking forward to this April all year, in the hopes that she would begin posting poetry again.

Well, she has not disappointed my hopes - she has posted everyday so far, and there are already some gems. If you are not doing so already, I highly recommend that you follow her poetry as she posts this month. The first poem, which I especially like, is here. Get thee hence!

Catching Up After Two Weeks (or, Unsystematic Thoughts on Rowan Williams)

(img. sourc: http://blogs.reuters.com/faithworld/files/2010/11/williams-benedict.jpg)

It's been a while since I posted. But it has been an eventful time in the Christian world, and I felt the need to check in and add my comments to the mix. In the past few weeks, Pope Shenouda of the Coptic Church passed away, and Archbishop Rowan Williams announced his resignation.

Quite a shake up for the international Christian world. And it is already Holy Week.

Pope Shenouda was a good friend to Anglicans, and a real champion of the gospel from everything I know about him, and he will be sorely missed.

Closer to home, I admit I am sad to see Rowan go. He is not well liked by most of my fellow conservatives, but I am rather fond of him. For all his faults, he is a serious theologian and scholar, and seems to be a man of deep personal faith. He is not, despite the claims of many, a "liberal" and he really worked to try to keep everyone together in the current mess that is the Anglican Communion. Yes, he is liberal on sexual ethics, but he has never said anything that suggests he doubts the truth of the creed or the gospel, and he has never tried to impose his views on the church. He takes his responsibilities as Archbishop very seriously, and understands that we must seek the mind of the Church and consensus before moving forward. He is, in other words, willing to submit his judgments to the wider Church. Besides which, despite my avowed conservatism on the whole same sex marriage debate in Anglicanism, I am not convinced that it has the earth shattering importance that many conservative Anglicans give it. At some point, perhaps I should explain my views, but not today.

On top of all this, Archbishop Williams is very respected by leaders of other Christian groups, such as Pope Benedict XVI and many Eastern Orthodox Christians. It was a historic moment when he delivered a sermon, in the Vatican, before the Pope himself. I am not certain, but I believe this was a first since at least the time of the Reformation. The vitriol poured on Williams has been mostly from within Anglicanism, by people on both sides disappointed that Williams did not toe any particular line, and did not do what he could not do - hand down a declaration from on high.

Mostly though, I am happy for Archbishop Williams. He never seemed really at ease in the chair of St. Augustine, and I think he will flourish when he is once more in an academic setting. God bless him in this endeavor. I wait with some trepidation to see who will replace the good Archbishop. I hope that it will be someone of greater political savvy, but with the same commitment to unity and reconciliation as Archbishop Williams.

Offering Mass for an intention

The Red rule of the SSC states that "The Brethren are asked to wherever possible offer Mass for the Society." Offering mass for a particular intention always seemed highly objectionable to me. It seemed to really make the mass into a re-sacrificing of Christ, in the most objectionable way. The Eucharist, after all, is only a part of the one sacrifice of Christ, and as such it already has a purpose to which it is dedicated - the redemption of the world, and the establishment of God's new covenant people, the Church. To offer mass for a particular intention, seemed to suggest that mass is offered for the sake of getting God to grant some particular request, rather than to participate in the "Full, perfect and sufficient sacrifice" of Calvary. It seemed, in other words, to trivialize the Eucharist, and to suggest that if I offer more Eucharists, my prayer becomes more effective, as if the value of Christ's sacrifice could be magnified.

I have more recently begun to come around on this particular question, but I can't say I fully understand it. A question from a friend, gave me the opportunity to think about this in more depth, and so I thought I would share my thoughts here, and invite comments from others.

As I understand it, since the mass is traditionally understood as being one with the sacrifice of Christ offered once and for all on the cross, the mass is itself a sacrifice offered by the Church in union with Christ. Whenever a particular priest celebrates, he does so not for his community alone, but on behalf of the whole Church, the catholic Church, throughout the world, living and dead. So, through the Holy Spirit's ministry, each mass participates in the one great sacrifice of Christ on the cross which constitutes and sustains the Church. Each particular offering of the mass, through the Holy Spirit's power transcends its own particularity.

At the same time though, each mass remains somehow a particular, distinct event - in this time and this place, offered by a particular priest, on behalf of a particular congregation, and a presbyter does not stand apart from the needs, sorrows and joys of his particular community. So, while the Mass is already an all encompassing sacrifice, sustaining the life of the universal Church, and is offered "for the life of the world" as Fr. Alexander Schmemann put it quoting John's gospel, a particular priest offers up the mass to God on behalf of the his own congregation. A priest does not offer the mass on behalf of a nebulous, "Universal Church" but on behalf of the catholic Church in this place, at this time.

While of course the mass is for the whole Church, each priest has a special care for his own community, and a special duty to bring their prayers and needs before God. That, in a sense, is the essence of priestly vocation: to go in and out before God with the needs, thanksgivings and prayers of the people. This is what all of us are called to do in the priesthood of all believers, but the presbyter is specially called to represent that vocation, in the midst of the congregation. This ministry is most fully and manifestly exercised when he offers the holy sacrifice, and so that is also the most appropriate context in which to bring the people's prayers before God. Because while the mass is, as I have put it, universal, and transcends the particular, sustaining the whole Church catholic, it also sustains and gives life to each particular community, precisely as a particular community. In an incarnational and catholic ecclesiology, the particular and the universal are not opposed, but contained within each other, admittedly somewhat mysteriously. For this understanding of catholicity, I am drawing on the thought of Met. John Zizioulas and Archbishop Michael Ramsey.

That, as I understand it, is what it means to offer mass on behalf of a particular intention. Where I see a danger in the practice, is when it eclipses the universality and completeness of Christ's sacrifice, and of the mass itself. I think this is what happened in the middle ages, when you got abuses like priests who earned a stipend doing nothing but offering mass for the soul of some dead nobleman. This turns the mass into some kind of magic, as if offering more masses, more often, would somehow convince God to answer prayers, rather than trusting in the one atoning sacrifice of Christ.

However, I think that if it is kept in proper perspective, it is thoroughly appropriate for a priest to bring the needs of the people before God, in the context of the mass, joining their prayers to those of the whole Church. In addition, I would say it is important that we not let sacrificial imagery become the only language we use to describe the Eucharist. The Eucharist is also a meal, a foretaste of the wedding feast of the lamb, where Christ is the host. St. Paul uses this meal imagery to great effect in 1 Cor. 10-11. Because the Eucharist is a true mystery, we need all the metaphors and analogies we have at our disposal from Scripture and the tradition as we seek to understand and articulate it. Those are my thoughts, hope they are helpful, or at least interesting. Let me know if anything sounds off or crazy in them. I am no expert, and that is just where I have come to in my own musings on the subject.