“Materialism is a conviction based not upon evidence or logic but upon what Carl Sagan (speaking of another kind of faith) called a ‘deep-seated need to believe.’ Considered purely as a rational philosophy, it has little to recommend it; but as an emotional sedative, what Czeslaw Milosz liked to call the opiate of unbelief, it offers a refuge from so many elaborate perplexities, so many arduous spiritual exertions, so many trying intellectual and moral problems, so many exhausting expressions of hope or fear, charity or remorse. In this sense, it should be classified as one of those religions of consolation whose purpose is not to engage the mind or will with the mysteries of being but merely to provide a palliative for existential grievances and private disappointments. Popular atheism is not a philosophy but a therapy.”
―David Bentley Hart, The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss
THE TEN DRACHMAS: The Lord in the Guise of a Woman
“Can you believe that Christ the Saviour portrayed Himself in the guise of a woman in two of His parables? One is that of the woman who took three measures of flour and made dough. But first let us speak of the other one where the Lord tells us about the woman who had ten drachmas and lost one. These are the most mysterious of all the Saviour’s parables. As the parable of the lost drachma is short, we quote it in full.”
“Or what woman, having ten drachmas, if she lose one, does not light a candle and sweep the house and look diligently till she finds it? And after she has found it, she calls in her friends and neighbors and says, Rejoice with me, for I have found the drachma that I lost (Luke 15:8-9).”
“At first glance this parable seems so simple, or even naive, that it does not impress the reader of the Gospel. In fact, however, the mystery of the universe is revealed in this simple parable.”
Drachma of Darius King of Persia, 1st century.
The paragraphs above are the first part of an article by St. Nikolai Velimirovich, which I’m happy to bring to your attention. From his statement about the mystery of the universe, the author goes on to point out the puzzling elements in this very short story, and to explain two interpretations, both of which he says are correct. I will let you read the whole exposition at your leisure: “The Ten Drachmas” (in which he also treats the second story, the “Three Measures of Flour,” in detail). But I want to share one more excerpt, which returns to the question of why the protagonist in “The Ten Drachmas” must be a woman:
“Our Lord described Himself as a woman because women are more careful than men in looking after property, in keeping the house in order and in receiving guests. If this short parable, which consists of only two sentences, is explained in this way, whose heart will not tremble? for it contains the whole tragedy of the world, visible and invisible. It explains why the Son of God came to earth. It sheds a bright ray of light on the history of mankind and the tragedy of each individual’s existence.
“It confronts us with an urgent decision, because our life is swiftly passing — a decision as to whether we want to be the lost drachma found by Christ or not. Christ is looking for us. Are we going to hide from him, or let ourselves be found by Him before death hides us from Him, from the world and from life?”
“…in the early twenties—before my departure to Mt. Athos in 1925, I wept and prayed to God: ‘Find a way to save the world—to save all of us, we are all defiled and cruel.’
I would pray with particular fervor for the ‘little ones,’ the poor and oppressed. Towards morning, with my strength waning, my prayer would be disturbed by the thought that if I grieve for mankind with all my heart, how is it that God can look on indifferently at the pain and torment of millions of beings whom He Himself had created? Why does He allow the innumerable instances of brute force in the world?
And I would turn to Him with the insane challenge, ‘Where art Thou?’ And in my heart I heard: ‘Was it you who was crucified for them?’ …The gentle words uttered by the Spirit shook me to the core—He Who was crucified had answered me as God.”
—Saint Sophrony, reposed July 11th, 1993
Edward Arthur Fellowes Prynne: Jesus is Nailed to the Cross
“Why do men learn through pain and suffering, and not through pleasure and happiness? Very simply, because pleasure and happiness accustom one to satisfaction with the things given in this world, whereas pain and suffering drive one to seek a more profound happiness beyond the limitations of this world. I am at this moment in some pain, and I call on the Name of Jesus — not necessarily to relieve the pain, but that Jesus, in Whom alone we may transcend this world, may be with me during it, and His will be done in me.
“But in pleasure I do not call on Him; I am content then with what I have, and I think I need no more. And why is a philosophy of pleasure untenable? — because pleasure is impermanent and unreliable, and pain is inevitable. In pain and suffering Christ speaks to us, and thus God is kind to give them to us, yes, and evil too — for in all of these we glimpse something of what must lie beyond, if there really exists what our hearts most deeply desire.”
“Materialism is a conviction based not upon evidence or logic but upon what Carl Sagan (speaking of another kind of faith) called a ‘deep-seated need to believe.’ Considered purely as a rational philosophy, it has little to recommend it; but as an emotional sedative, what Czeslaw Milosz liked to call the opiate of unbelief, it offers a refuge from so many elaborate perplexities, so many arduous spiritual exertions, so many trying intellectual and moral problems, so many exhausting expressions of hope or fear, charity or remorse. In this sense, it should be classified as one of those religions of consolation whose purpose is not to engage the mind or will with the mysteries of being but merely to provide a palliative for existential grievances and private disappointments. Popular atheism is not a philosophy but a therapy.”
Gladsome Lights 