scriptus

Yes, it is true. We’re Orthodox Christians! And the church didn’t fall down or anything. Thank you all so much for your prayers, and so many of you for coming out to support us. It means so much to us.

The service was wonderful. I teared up so many times, before going up for the chrismation, and again big time before going up to receive the gifts in the Eucharist. I can’t speak for how I looked, but the smiles and shining, joyful faces of the rest of the family brought so much joy and peace to my heart. My godfather, Pete, said of my tears, “I think you’ll make a good Orthodox” and then he told me not to make him cry too.

I know this is going to take a while to really sink in. Your prayers are coveted for the newly illumined. It is much like stepping through the threshold, and now we have our lives before us to learn to follow our Lord and learn to truly live Orthodox lives.

Many of our friends joined up later in the evening for a celebration at the house, and we had a great time. Fr. Evan (and family) came and told some great stories (as usual). My only regret is that I didn’t get to sit and talk for awhile to everyone who came.

Glory to God in the Highest! Our family is being chrismated next Sunday, Sept. 4. We’re all sponsored. Can’t say that we are all prepared, because really, how could we be? But if excitement, trepidation or nervousness has anything to do with it, we’re covered.

We would welcome your prayers!

I’ve been reading Fr. Alexander Schmemann’s book For the Life of the World, and a bit of it struck me last night in a way I had never considered before. He mentions a phrase I have heard many times before, but had always discounted; precisely: “The Church’s very mission is to become all things to all men.” (Ch. 3, Sec. 5, p. 59)

I had always taken this to be an excuse for all kinds of experiments in church, from rock bands to live mules. But Fr. has turned it inside out for me; it is quite clear from his context what this phrase is supposed to mean, although he never says it straight out. If the Church is really to mean “all things” to someone, it is to be his life, breath, food, drink, and air — living as a member of Christ’s Church, partaking of Him through the sacraments, and loving as He loved. To mean it “for all people” is a challenge of mission for sure — for if the Church is truly supposed to be “all things”, then it is incumbent on us as members to bring those who will come with us to Christ and to the Church to find real life. If the Church becomes “all things,” focusing us and pointing us to Him in a community based on His love for us and through us, we can become truly “in the world, but not of it”.

“Behold, I make all things new,” Christ says. Yes, even the liturgy and hours and prayers of 2000 years, if we would only let Him make it new. I’ve heard some say regarding liturgy in general, “but you say the same things over and over again… your church sounds kind of boring.” But they fail to understand that each and every liturgy I participate in, it wears on my heart and rubs on my rough spots and helps in the work of transforming me just little bit to be more like my Lord Jesus. It is new every time — I am lucky to get through a service without tears, be they of joy, sorrow, or contrition.

I am so glad that Fr. Schmemann has cleared this up for me. I can’t seem to let this wondrously simple and powerful statement out of my mind since I read it a couple of days ago. It has literally been transformed from words I once scoffed at, due to how they were used in my Protestant days, into such a simple and beautiful statement of mission. I hope that it inspires us all to make our life in Christ’s Church “all things”.

“Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?
One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh;
But the earth abideth for ever…
The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing…
There is no new thing under the sun.”
(Ecc 1:2-4,8-9)

This has been a wonderful week. It all started last Saturday. Amy had a 5-mile charity walk for IOCC, and so the family went up to the park where it was to be held. All of the Orthodox churches in the area were invited to participate. We started our day with the “Blessing of the Five Loaves” service, and our priest Fr. L. led the service accompanied by Fr. Apostolos Hill. His harmonies were so beautiful to hear as they chanted together! Then the walk started and I played with the kids and met some wonderful people. You all should congratulate Amy, she raised the 2nd highest amount for the IOCC!

Then on Sunday, we had the privilege of being at our (now former) Deacon’s elevation/ordination to the priesthood. The Liturgy was so incredibly beautiful. Of course, our bishop was there… also attending were ten other priests and two other deacons! It was almost beyond words. What a Spirit-filled morning! When our deacon stood before the bishop presenting himself for the priesthood, his words touched my heart so deeply… between his words and the beauty of it all, I was a tearful bundle of joy the rest of the morning. AXIOS! He is worthy.

The new Fr. E has been serving liturgy every day this week, and I have had the privilege of working some weird hours to go every morning this week. It has been a wonderful way to start the day. I have also assisted with the chanting duties all but one of the days since Monday. It has so filled my soul with music that I haven’t put on CDs going anywhere, I’ve just had the songs of the liturgy playing in my heart as I go about my day. I wish I could chant better, that it would just come easier. But then again, I haven’t been at it very long…

I’ve been on a bit of an odd kick recently. It all started when I read The Death of Ivan Ilych by Tolstoy. I’ve been thinking about death, and about how it is approached.

Ilych is a man who never considered death, who always lived for himself. Selfish in every way, even in his marriage. But when he injures himself mildly by fixing up some curtains in a new fancy home, the wound takes a turn for the worse, and he ends up suffering terribly from an infection which eventually kills him. An excerpt from what is, in my opinion, the core passage of the book:

   He cried about his helplessness, about his terrible loneliness, about the cruelty of people, about the cruelty of God, about the absence of God.
   “Why hast Thou done all this? Why hast Thou brought me to this? Why dost Thou torture me so? For what?”
   He did not expect an answer, and he cried because there was no answer and there could be none. The pain started up again, but he did not stir, did not call out. He said to himself: “Go on then! Hit me again! But what for? What for? What have I done to Thee?”
   Then he quieted down and not only stopped crying, but held his breath and became all attention: he seemed to be listening — not to an audible voice, but to the voice of his soul, to the flow of thoughts within him.
   “What do you want?” was the first thought sufficiently intelligible to be expressed in words. “What do you want? What do you want?” he repeated inwardly. “What? Not to suffer. To live,” he replied.
   “To live? How?” asked the voice of his soul.
   “Why, to live as I did before—happily and pleasantly.”
   “As you lived before, happily and pleasantly?” asked the voice.
   And in his imagination he called to mind the best moments of his pleasant life. Yet, strangely enough, all the best moments of his pleasant life now seemed entirely different than they had in the past—all except the earliest memories of childhood. Way back in his childhood there had been something really pleasant, something he could live with if it were to recur. But the person who had experienced that happiness no longer existed. It was as though he were recalling the memories of another man.
   …
   “What does it all mean? Why has it happened? It’s inconceivable, inconceivable that life was so senseless and disgusting. And if it was really so disgusting and senseless, why should I have to die, and die in agony? Something must be wrong. Perhaps I did not live as I should have,” it suddenly occurred to him. “But how could that be when I did everything that one is supposed to do?” he replied, and immediately dismissed the one solution to the whole enigma of life and death, considering it utterly impossible.
[ From Chapter 9, "The Death of Ivan Ilych" by Leo Tolstoy (1886) ]

God have mercy on me, but neither do I live as I should. I am selfish. I am mean. And that is the tip of the iceberg.

There are comments I have left on blogs that have been less than loving. I apologize, please forgive me. It is hard, speaking truth while loving those to whom you speak. Many time when I speak, I should be listening. Many times, I’ll speak, and though the words are true, they aren’t loving at the time I speak them. I have been asked, on another blog, to “explain my communion” but the context of the question was of a pugnacious nature. I did not post.

We experience spiritual battle and temptation all the time. But I want not to triumphally discuss the superiority of Orthodoxy with anyone, particularly in a general blog, even when I know the folks, because who knows who may come along later. Who knows who might be disgusted at what that person might perceive as hubris rather than explanation. Individuals require answers in person based on a relationship. I know that I will not always be able to keep to this “rule”, but I hope that when I do respond that the context of the conversation makes it obvious that any response is to the inquiry, and not to trumpet the goodness of the Church… although she is very, very good!

Anyway. What came out after that excerpt wasn’t what I was planning to type, but there it is.

I pray God gives us all the grace and desire to love others as He has loved us. That is a self-sacrificing love, not the selfish “pleasant” life that Ilych pursued. It is a great book, I recommend it.

I’ve been reading a lot these last few weeks. It has been hot, and instead of tossing and turning in bed, I’ve gotten in some extra book time. Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground was the next book I finished, and I think I’ll save my comments for another post. The soundtrack for my thoughts on these books have been Chopin’s nocturnes, if you want to listen along.

I’ve also been reading Brian McLaren’s A New Kind of Christian. My summary, so far, is that he wants to be Orthodox without becoming Orthodox. Ironic, in that that would involve becoming an old kind of Christian…