OK, so I'm a dwarf standing on giants' shoulders, but...
A life's work between two covers... er, almost a dozen pairs of covers with four to six hundred pages in between... that could nicely adorn about two feet of space on your bookshelf... a little smaller in size than the complete Calvin and Hobbes...
"Must... fight... temptation.... to read... brilliant and interesting stuff from C.J.S. Hayward.... until.... after... work!"
If you don't know me, my name is Christos Jonathan Seth Hayward, which I usually abbreviate "C.J.S. Hayward."
But my name has to my surprise trilettered on Facebook to "CSH," for "C.S. Hayward". As in, the natural successor to C.S. Lewis. I take that as a big compliment.
I'm an Eastern Orthodox author, who grew up reading C.S. Lewis, and has read almost everything he wrote, including some of those reviewed in C.S. Lewis: The Neglected Works, but have written many different things in many styles. Readers have written things about parts of the the colllection like (J. Morovich):
A collection of joyful, challenging, insightful, intelligent, mirthful and jarring essays written by an Eastern Orthodox author who is much too wise for his years.
and (D. Donovan):
Each piece is a delight: partially because each 'speaks' using a different voice and partly because a diversity of topics and cross-connections between theology and everyday living makes the entire collection a delight to read, packed with unexpected twists, turns, and everyday challenges.
And all this for some of this collection.
These pieces are a joy to read, and a gateway to help you enter a larger world, and open up doors that you never dreamed were there to open. Want to really see how "There are more things in Heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy?" Read these.
The one single work I would recommend most by far, and has been strongly recommended by others, is The Consolation of Theology. It is based on a classic The Consolation of Philosophy, and it is meant to give consolation, joy, strength, insights and things that are beyond mere insight. In a pandemic, a collapsing economy, and times when grandmas are buying shotguns, and perhaps other things in the pipeline, happiness is possible, in our reach, and it is real.
My story includes Protestant origins and a progressive discovery of Orthodox Christianity. Because this is a collection of the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, I have set the works I would particularly recommend in bold in the Table of Contents.
I've also dropped the specified price per volume from $29.99 to $19.99.
(Please note: In the past, a bug prevented an avid reader furious he couldn't read more than the first half of the Kindle edition. The Kindle edition has one review at one star, from someone who read the first half of the book and was infuriated he couldn't read further. I've since fixed that bug, but the review is live and probably deterring people from purchasing. I can and do write well-received titles.)
I'd also like to make available downloads for cheap or for free, but I have a reason for posting this now. I want to keep my website, which has been online since the end of the 20th century, alive for however long I really can, but there are some things I can't control and I am getting ready, I hope, to visit a monastery. What comes of that I don't know, but I'd really like for you to own my books in paper. And I'm not sure how long it will be until Amazon makes a decision that will render my works no longer available. However, as a complement to the availability of paper books, I have available:
(One note:) I had hoped to make a free download available in Kindle and ePub, as well as an option of spending a few dollars on Amazon. However, one of the latest additions reads:
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways. integer overflow error at 0x0
And when I tried to convert the text to an ePub to distribute freely, the conversion software errored out saying it had reached maximum recursion depth.
What some friends of his do not know is that creativity did not end when he reached adult age. Like many people, he was creative as a child. Like many fewer of that group, he as continued to exercise that burgeoning collection now stored at CJSHayward.com and also now represented on Amazon. Up until college age, he worked on mastering one new artistic medium per year, and his favorite class in high school was the jewelry and metalworking class; he made a silver ring for his grandmother and designed it to hold a drop of water as a gemstone.
Here is perhaps the best of his collection, arising from a vision Wednesday of Holy Week decades back:
"Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthane?":
"My God, My God, attend to Me: why hast Thou forsaken Me?"
The quote is the New Testament's longest quotation of anyone in the language Christ grew up with. Some of those present mock with a crude mocking pun, implying that His "Eloi", "My God", was pitifully "calling for Elijah," two words which are confusingly similar. The sadistic jeer might be paraphrased, "'Eloi?' Sounds an awful lot like a call to Elijah, eh? Let's wait around and see if Eliah helps him." If that were not spite enough, the mockers even dissuaded the simple mercy of whoever who would give Him a little sip of water in a sponge on a stick.
But Christ was not "calling for Elijah", and the people who made the sarcastic joke knew as well as anyone else that the Psalm of the Cross was a shorthand quotation of the entirety of Psalm 21 (22 in the Western numbering), here cited from the Classic Orthodox Bible:
For the End, concerning the morning aid, a Psalm of David.
O God, My God, attend to Me: why hast Thou forsaken Me?
The account of My transgressions is far from My salvation.
O my God, I will cry to Thee by day, but Thou wilt not hear:
And by night, and it shall not be accounted for folly to Me.
But Thou, the praise of Israel, dwellest in a sanctuary.
Our fathers hoped in Thee;
They hoped, and Thou didst deliver them.
They cried to Thee, and were saved:
They hoped in Thee, and were not ashamed.
But I am a Worm, and not a Man;
A Reproach of men, and Scorn of the people.
All that saw Me mocked Me: they spoke with their lips,
They shook the head, saying,
"He hoped in the Lord: let Him deliver Him,
Let Him save Him, because He takes pleasure in Him."
For Thou art He that drew Me out of the womb;
My hope from My mother’s breasts.
I was cast on Thee from the womb:
Thou art My God from My mother’s belly.
Stand not aloof from Me; for affliction is near;
For there is no helper.
Many bullocks have compassed Me:
Fat bulls have beset Me round.
They have opened their mouth against Me,
As a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water,
And all My bones are loosened:
My heart in the midst of My belly is become like melting wax.
My strength is dried up, like a potsherd;
And My tongue is glued to My throat;
And Thou hast brought Me down to the dust of death.
For many dogs have compassed Me:
The assembly of the wicked doers hath beset Me round:
They pierced My hands and My feet.
They counted all My bones;
And they observed and looked upon Me.
They parted My garments among themselves,
And cast lots upon My raiment.
But Thou, O Lord, remove not My help afar off:
Be ready for Mine aid.
Deliver My soul from the sword;
My only-begotten One from the power of the dog.
Save Me from the lion’s mouth;
And regard My lowliness from the horns of the unicorns.
I will declare Thy Name to My brethren:
In the midst of the Church will I sing praise to Thee.
Ye that fear the Lord, praise Him;
All ye seed of Jacob, glorify Him:
Let all the seed of Israel fear Him.
For He hath not despised nor been angry at the supplication of the poor;
Nor turned away His face from Me;
But when I cried to Him, He heard Me.
My praise is of Thee in the great congregation:
I will pay My vows before them that fear Him.
The poor shall eat and be satisfied;
And they shall praise the Lord that seek Him:
Their heart shall live for ever.
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord:
And all the kindred of the nations shall venerate Him.
For the Kingdom is the Lord’s;
And He is the governor of the nations.
All the fat ones of the earth have eaten and venerated:
All that go down to the earth shall fall down before Him:
My soul also lives to Him.
And My seed shall serve Him:
The generation that is coming shall be reported to the Lord.
And they shall report His righteousness to the people that shall be born,
Whom the Lord hath made.
"They pierced My hands and My feet:" this Psalm is, like no other, the Psalm of the Cross.
The painting is roughly 20"x30", and it is mounted against a high-quality frame that holds it against invisible glass and entirely immanent:
In my second novel, I tried to show a hero who is more than meets the eye. Three dimensions to his being are represented here; rather than spelling everything out for you, I invite you to look and see how many layers you can find. Then read the book...
St. John the Much-Suffering is a saint who fought industrial-strength sexual temptation for decades and WON in every sense of the term.
His life reads:
Venerable John the Long-Suffering of the Kiev Near Caves
Commemorated on July 18
St John the Much-Suffering pursued asceticism at the Kiev Caves Lavra, accepting many sorrows for the sake of virginity.
The ascetic recalled that from the time of his youth he had suffered much, tormented by fleshly lust, and nothing could deliver him from it, neither hunger nor thirst nor heavy chains. He then went into the cave where the relics of St Anthony rested, and he fervently prayed to the holy Abba. After a day and a night the much-suffering John heard a voice: "John! It is necessary for you to become a recluse, in order to weaken the vexation by silence and seclusion, and the Lord shall help you by the prayers of His monastic saints." The saint settled into the cave from that time, and only after thirty years did he conquer the fleshly passions.
Tense and fierce was the struggle upon the thorny way on which the monk went to victory. Sometimes the desire took hold of him to forsake his seclusion, but then he resolved on still greater effort. The holy warrior of Christ dug out a pit and with the onset of Great Lent he climbed into it, and he covered himself up to the shoulders with ground. He spent the whole of Lent in such a position, but the burning of his former passions did not leave him. The enemy of salvation brought terror upon the ascetic, wishing to expel him from the cave: a fearsome serpent, breathing fire and sparks, tried to swallow the saint. For several days these evil doings continued.
On the night of the Resurrection of Christ the serpent seized the head of the monk in its jaws. Then St John cried out from the depths of his heart: "O Lord my God and my Savior! Why have You forsaken me? Have mercy upon me, only Lover of Mankind; deliver me from my foul iniquity, so that I an not trapped in the snares of the Evil one. Deliver me from the mouth of my enemy: send down a flash of lightning and drive it away." Suddenly a bolt of lightning flashed, and the serpent vanished. A Divine light shone upon the ascetic, and a Voice was heard: "John! Here is help for you. Be attentive from now on, that nothing worse happen to you, and that you do not suffer in the age to come."
The saint prostrated himself and said: "Lord! Why did You leave me for so long in torment?" "I tried you according to the power of your endurance," was the answer. "I brought upon you temptation, so that you might be purified like gold. It is to the strong and powerful servants that a master assigns the heavy work, and the easy tasks to the infirm and to the weak. Therefore pray to the one buried here (Moses the Hungarian), he can help you in this struggle, for he did greater deeds than Joseph the Fair" (March 31). The monk died in the year 1160, having acquired grace against profligate passions. His holy relics rest in the Caves of St Anthony.
We pray to St John for deliverance from sexual impurity.
I have had a great devotion to St. John, enough that I commissioned the icon pictured, not only so that I would have the icon pictured (and after it touched the relics of the singularly triumphant St. Mary of Egypt (life story) and St. John's own relics.
But I asked and received permission to show St. John the Much-Suffering from my website, and so this page has a copy of the icon, which you can see by scrolling up. There are two buttons, "BIGGER" and "smaller", and you can use them to adjust the size, then print the icon out and attach it to a board.
I apologize for the crudity of this method, but St. John is a treasure, I think an icon of him has been needed since long before I placed my order, and he is particularly relevant now.
St. John the Much-Suffering is a powerful intercessor for praying for your own struggles.
St. John the Much-Suffering is also a powerful intercessor for praying for others who are tempted along with praying, in the spirit of "I am the chief of sinners," for mercy and one's own purity.
Is this a picture of the Good Shepherd? Why would he swing a weapon?
The Lord is my Shepherd;
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul.
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
For thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil;
My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
"Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." The staff is something you've seen many times: long and curved at the end, so the shepherd could rescue a sheep from a ledge it couldn't escape, or pull back a lamb that was straying. That is the staff in "thy rod and thy staff." What is the rod?
In a nutshell, the shepherd's rod was a baseball bat with nails pounded through it.
The Good Shepherd "lays down his life for his sheep" because even the Holy Lands were a dangerous place for sheep, and for anyone who tried to protect them. There were predators that would try to kill and eat the sheep, and so a shepherd didn't only carry a staff to rescue lost sheep. He also carried a rod so he could fight to the death when an enemy attacked.
The Good Shepherd is a provider who comforts his sheep. He is a provider, and every bit as much an armed guard who will be with his sheep in dangerous places, and would rather die than see one of his little lambs harmed. The Good Shepherd is the Lion of Judah.
Can you find something in the 23rd psalm you haven't noticed before?
When I was poking around the web, I found Steve Scheussler's home page. Among other things, it mentions that Steve has a personal constitution.
There was something that bothered me about the idea of a personal Constitution. I respect Steve and enjoy his acquaintanceship — I didn't feel a nagging doubt about him, only a disagreement with the idea of a personal constitution. The basic idea of lex, rex — "the law comes before the king" — is foundational to American government, runs so deep that justices who violate it invariably acknowledge its place by paying lip service to it, checks many of the abuses when a ruler is permitted to do anything he wants, and strikes me as fundamentally flawed. What you know is always more than you can write down, and living by a personal constitution makes a creation greater than its creator. The principle that can be written is not the ultimate principle.
I felt an objection, but I also felt something worth imitating. I followed my intuitions for a while, and came to a flag. I hold objection to the way flags are treated in American culture — the only physical object I have ever been asked to pledge allegiance to. I was required by law to pass a school test on the Constitution and on the flag, and the flag is the only item I have been told to never let touch the ground. Nobody objects when I (quite frequently) put a Bible on the floor, nor does anybody object when I am roughhousing with friends (human — created in the image of God!) and push them into the ground — but the American flag is to be held in such high respect that it may not touch the ground, not even when it is being respectfully folded. The proper term, I believe, for an object of this veneration is: 'Idol'.
That is what American culture makes of a flag, but that is not what it must be. I choose to make it something else — a way to share who I am to other people. Like many symbols, it holds meaning, but does not explain itself. So here is an explanation of its symbolic side:
Most flags are very simple, with perhaps one true picture at the center; my flag is intended to be at once both simple and complex. I will treat the simple aspects before going on to the little details.
The two obvious allusions are to the French and British flags. Why does the French flag appear reversed? I am left-handed. There's been a lot of silly stuff written about left-handedness, but there are some serious aspects as well. My brain has an unusual wiring pattern that appears in some left-handers — the pattern is only found in 2% of the world's population. If you meet me in person, you will find that I speak slowly, after a pause — but when I do speak, my words are as carefully chosen as those I write. I think differently, by nature.
I chose the French flag as the main model, because I have spent time in France, and because there are ways in which it is more home than America — French people often think and discuss ideas where Americans often watch television. I enjoy speaking French a great deal. But why is America not represented at all?
It is, only in a way that is not obvious.
The common mental model of American history is that there was England, and then English colonists came and settled in America, and then they broke off and formed their own nation, and now the U.S. is the U.S. and England is England. How else could anyone think of it?
One of my professors argued that Martin Luther King was essentially a conservative: his "I have a dream" speech did not try to attack, change, or replace the fundamental principles of American government, but instead asked for a more consistent application of American principles. When he said that the bank of justice did not have insufficient funds, he was not asking white America to write a new check; he was trying to cash a check that had already been written. In a similar manner, the United States was in large part founded by English colonists who had been promised certain "rights of Englishmen", rights that were not forfeited by colonizing faraway soil, and rebelled when these English rights were violated. "No taxation without representation!" was an English cry. Another analogous situation would be the Reformation. The Reformation did not start when people decided that they wanted to break off from the Church and do something else; it started with criticisms from people who believed, rightly or wrongly, that the Roman Catholic Church was failing to live up to Catholic standards. Reams of anti-Catholic invective came later, but the initial idea was to help the Church be more properly Catholic. Something of the same is at work with America's independence. In contradistinction to the idea that the colonies split off from England and became different, I would suggest that a bifurcation occurred — and that the two sides are not very far apart. A friend who grew up in France commented on the similarity of spiritual atmosphere between France and the United States; both France and the United States are part of the West, and England and the United States are closer still. Now the U.S. has economic and military distinction, and (for good or for bad) is drawing much of the world's technical talent — but there are strong similarities, and some of the intellectual movements that have been pointed to as America distinguishing itself from Europe are things I'd rather forget: pragmatism, behaviorism, etc. The English flag, in a non-obvious way, represents America, along with the basic colors of red, white, and blue.
This third of the flag might be titled, 'Eclectica' — not named for this website, but including various eclectic aspects of my interest or my person. Red was my favorite color when I was a boy. Specific things listed, loosely from top to bottom, are:
The world. In this case, the world is not a symbol of the environment per se, so much as of cultures the world around. I am interested in cultures, and find them to be objects of fascination and beauty.
A climber. I love to climb, and I am very happy that Wheaton College recently opened a climbing wall. I'm hoping to learn how to climb up a thick tree trunk without using branches.
A hand, showing the bones inside. A skeleton is not necessarily a gruesome part of a corpse; it is also part of a living, breathing human body. In Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, Paul Brand talks about how a lobster has a hard skeleton on the outside — and how a man has a skeleton that's strong as steel, but covered with soft flesh. I don't know how well I live up to this standard (I know one person who's said that I don't), but I want to live to the standard of rock hard, unyielding principles inside, but a soft touch that meets things on the outside.
A paper target, viewed through a competition rifle's sight. I don't get to do riflery very often, but I enjoy it a great deal. Marksmanship is not about the machismo that Hollywood shows; it's about concentration and growing still.
A Swiss Army Knife. I carry a thick Swiss Army Knife, and use it for all sorts of things. After watching MacGyver as a child, I came to value resourcefulness, tinkering, and jury-rigging; I still find the knife to be quite useful.
A place called "the Web" at Honey Rock Camp. Honey Rock is a place that has been special to me from childhood; it is easier to know other people there, and there are beautifully eclectic physical facilities. One of these has a World War II cargo net strung up to make a place for children to romp around in: the Web. It is now, so far as I know, closed — the fabric is deteriorating, and it is a legal liability. The camp retains its beauty, and provided the home setting for A Cord of Seven Strands.
A clock with no hands. After spending a summer in Malaysia, I changed my time sense to move more slowly, to not need to have things happen quickly and try to let go of the number of minutes elapsed when I am with a friend. Something of this basic insight is captured in Madeleine l'Engle's description of kairos in Walking on Water, Neil Postman's description of moments (before the clock ruled) in Amusing Ourselves to Death, and by an anthropologist in The Dance of Life. Why? It's not that I wanted to lose awareness of time, so much as to gain a more effective focus on things that are lost. There are other facets, but I do not wish to expand here — the interested reader is encouraged to look at the mentioned titles.
A roll of duct tape. Same basic meaning as the Swiss Army Knife; I used to also carry that, too.
Swimming underwater. I haven't done much swimming in the past few years, but I was quite often in the water as a boy — and, more often than not, swimming under the surface. I cherish those memories.
A television with clothing on top and books in front. It's hard to portray the absence of a television per se, but I can portray one that hasn't been used in a long time. I generally try to avoid watching television, and I do not have one in my apartment. Not only is an hour of television an hour not spent doing other things, but watching television subtly alters — impairs — our experience of the external world. How does it do that? Read Jerry Mander's Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television.
A cave. A cave is a quiet place to rest and think; it is a symbol of withdrawing to meditating. My apartment is such a place.
A graveyard. A graveyard is not necessarily a symbol of the macabre; it is a place symbolic of continuity between the living and the dead. This is why many old churches and cathedrals bury people under the sanctuary; it is a symbol of connection with those who walked before. I do not believe in the modern concept of progress, nor the postmodern rejection of progress and everything near it; I believe in a human and a Christian continuity with those who walked before.
The center of the flag, and the connection between the other two portions, is faith. The Cross is central and defines what else is there.
There are innumerable symbols that could be used, but I chose to restrict myself to four. Those four are:
Grapes. Grapes are a symbol of wine, one of God's blessings to man. It is a blessing so special that Christ chose it to become his blood, and when we drink Christ's blood, we are drinking the divine life — something hidden and mystical, and close to my heart.
A candle. There is something a candle symbolizes that is not in a light bulb. It is a softer light. There is a reason couples want a candle for a special dinner, and it is a reason not confined to romantic love. I cannot explain what it is, but it is something like faith.
Me, sitting in my blue armchair, praying. There is an interplay of light between God and me.
Friends hugging. Touch is also important to me, and with it, more broadly, kything — I identify strongly with Charles Wallace in Madeleine l'Engle's A Wind in the Door, a work whose resonance has pierced my heart like few other.
The last third of the flag, blue, is devoted to reason. A particular emphasis on the mind is not catholic and universal like the claims of the Christian faith, but it is one part of the broad corpus of human and Christian work, and it is important to me.
I should note that the word 'reason' has shifted meaning in the last few centuries, and it is an older meaning that I wish to invoke. Now the term 'imagination' is used very broadly for human brilliance; a person might say that a plan shows "real imagination" as a way of saying that it reflected insight and understanding. In the Middle Ages, however, the term did not have its present meaning. It meant the faculty that formed visual images, and little else — the term 'imagination' has expanded in meaning. The term 'reason', however, has shrunk in meaning. At present, it does not mean much else besides logical thinking — but in the Middle Ages, 'reason' referred much more broadly to human faculties, including many things we would now call 'imagination'. 'Reason' is an alternate translation to the Greek logos that John used to describe God the Son. 'Reason' does not mean 'rationalism' ("Among intellectuals, there are two types of people: those that worship the mind, and those that use it." — G.K. Chesterton), but a special effort to love God with all of my mind.
From bottom to top, here are the symbols represented:
A book, open, with light flaring out, and things coming from that light. The book is a symbol of learning in general, and the Book.
A hypercube (tesseract) — mathematics, which provided discipline for my mind, among other things.
A storm of blue and orange flame, by a burning tree: Firestorm 2034 as the image of literature, both read and written.
A networked computer, coming in part through the hypercube. Math and computer science are tightly linked, and computer work is putting bread on the table.
A magnifying glass, and a cadeceus: "You must study the ways of all professions." (Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings. As well as the basic academic disciplines, I have tried to understand other areas that would stimulate and broaden my thinking: emergency medicine, forensics...
Deep waters. The thought that can be stated is not the ultimate thought; the worded thoughts give way to things that cannot be explained, and the symbol into which others recede is formless, deep waters. Most of my thoughts are now in words, but my deepest thoughts are never in words to begin with.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from my deliverance and the words of my groaning?
My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
By night, and am not silent.
But you are holy,
You who are enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our fathers trusted;
They trusted and were not disappointed.
But I am a worm and not a man,
Reproached by men, and despised by the people.
All who see me laugh at me,
They separate the lip, they shake their heads:
"He trusts in the Lord, let him deliver him,
Let him rescue him, if he delights in him!"
Yet you did take me from my mother's womb;
You have kept me safe on my mother's breasts.
Upon you I was cast from my birth,
And you have been my God from my mother's womb.
Be not far off from me,
For trouble is near,
And there is none to help.
Many bulls have surrounded me,
Strong bulls of Bashan encompass me;
They open wide their mouths at me,
Like a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water,
And all my bones are out of joint.
My heart is like wax;
It is melted within me.
My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
And my tongue cleaves to my jaws;
You do lay me in the dust of death.
For dogs have surrounded me,
A band of evildoers have encompassed me;
They pierced my hands and my feet.
I can count all my bones.
They look, they stare at me;
They divide my garments among them,
And for my clothing they cast lots.
Be not far off from em, for there is none to help!
O you my deliverance, hasten to my assistance.
Save my soul from the sword,
My only life from the power of the dog!
Save me from the mouth of the lion,
my only life from the horns of wild oxen!
I will tell of your name to my brethren;
In the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
You who fear the Lord, praise him!
All you sons of Jacob, glorify him.
Stand in awe of him, all you descendants of Israel!
For he has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted;
neither has he hidden his face from him,
but he cried out to him, and he heard.
From you comes my praise in the congregation;
I will pay my vows before those who fear him.
The afflicted shall eat and be satisfied;
Those who seek the Lord shall praise him.
Let your heart live forever!
All the ends of the earth shall remember
And turn to the Lord;
All the families of nations
Shall worship before him.
For dominion belongs to the Lord,
And he rules over the nations.
All the wealthy shall eat and worship;
all who go down to the dust will bow before him,
Even he who cannot keep his soul alive!
Posterity shall serve him.
They shall tell of the Lord to the coming generation,
And tell of his deliverance to a people not yet born—
That he has performed it.
Psalm 22: first verse quoted by Jesus as he lay in agony, dying on the cross.
The religious leaders knew the Scriptures by heart, and when Jesus quoted the first words, it was as if he had quoted the entire psalm. Perhaps more powerful: Jesus spoke the first words and was then silent as they recalled the words and saw prophecy fulfilled before their eyes.
The opening words, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthane?" are the only sentence in the entire New Testament where Jesus is quoted in his native tongue.
The words quoted are the words I memorized one Lent — the only time I have been able to memorize a chapter verbatim. I am not sure I have captured every word the same, and I used a Bible to help me recall.
The painting shown is an imperfect copy of a vision I had Wednesday of Holy Week, 1993.