Tomb of Fear

Nothing reveals my heart more than my relationship with my wife. For instance, I have trouble being "present" in the relationship a lot of the time. I tend to prefer the squishy past (with all its unpleasantness) and foggy future (with all its uncertainty) to the rock-hard present moment. The slippery and hard "right now" is where I'm afraid I'll get all banged up. While I realize that being able to see and admit this is a small victory - it is not the one I'm after. What I really want is to change my behavior.

In order to change my behavior, I need to know myself better. I'm sure this requires Divine revelation because I'm blind as hell itself. I've often looked for this self-knowledge in the pages of scripture, the writings of the Church Fathers, the words of my spiritual father, and other, far less noble places. Many times I've acquired knowledge (of a sort) in those ways - but 9 times out of 10 this kind of self-revelation fails to change my behavior. At best it becomes inert brain patterns, at worst it becomes pride. However, living with my wife gives me knowledge of myself in a different way.

I can't articulate this exactly, but somehow as Macrina and I have struggled to maintain love in our relationship, I'm beginning to understand that the "fear of death" is one of the reasons I am afraid of the "present moment." This actually affects much more than my relationship with Macrina. Basically, it makes it difficult for me to enter into life with my whole heart because I fear the day that the "here and now" becomes the "there and then." I cringe at the thought that death will eventually separate me from everything and everyone I've ever known. I guess somewhere along the line I decided the less I'm involved in life, the easier it will be to let it go. Interestingly, this almost sounds "spiritual." But that is the nature of deception, and without the hard-as-nails reality of my marriage constantly uncovering this spiritual bullshit, I'd never see it for what it is. I'd just ignorantly ignore the fact that the Gospels, the Epistles, the Old Testament and the lives of saints consistently present the holy person as someone who lives and loves fully in the moment. True holiness manifests itself as an abandonment to the will of God without fear of the inevitability of death and decay.

Holy Week began last night at Vespers and we start keeping vigil with the Lord as he approaches his death on the cross. Aware of my lack of faith, I'm praying for a little more faith in this One Who conquered death. I'm praying that His victory over death becomes my victory over death. I'm praying that I will arise from the tomb of my fear and am looking forward to Paschal Matins where I will sing along with all the faithful, "Christ is risen from the dead trampling down death by death and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!"

On-line Confession

How embarrassing. A day after I write that I'm not going to blog anymore...I'm blogging. In fact, I'm blogging about why I'm still blogging. And if this kind of neurotic blogging interests you...keep reading. I don't call this "cracked" mirror for nothing.

When I went to confession earlier this afternoon I got around to telling my spiritual father (bragging may be more accurate) about my decision to "simplify and give up blogging." Of course there were lots more important things in my confession which perhaps would be much more interesting to read about - but this ain't that kind of blog. He eventually brought the conversation back around to "my decision" and said he wasn't all that sure my desire to "simplify" was coming from a good place. On the one hand it surprised me since I thought he of all people would be happy with my desire to be more focused "spiritually." On the other hand, it didn't surprise me at all because I've come to know my spiritual father as a man who can see through me pretty easily - something that is both comforting and distressing simultaneously.

So, after we talked about it, I began to see that the two funerals last weekend had sort of overwhelmed me. Like most everyone else in the so-called modern world, I have lots of internal conflicts about where I should and shouldn't spend my time. Basically it just felt good to make one tiny little mark in the sand and say with some finality, "I'm going to quit blogging." But in reality, I was looking for an easy fix to something that cannot be easily fixed. Day-to-day decisions about what we do is hard work. It requires discernment and the ability to sometimes turn away from what we'd like to do in order to do what we need to do if we are going to love God and our neighbor.

The advice I got this afternoon was, "Just put first things first." I hate that kind of advice...but I'm also grateful - at least a little. That is, in my heart of hearts I know it is true. But I like things tidy, squared up, understandable, digestible, and easy. Black and white is more my style - shades of grey confuse me and color absolutely takes me over the edge. And yet I have noticed that the near-chaotic wildness and complexity of creation is beautiful. Maybe someday I'll learn to appreciate it. But for now, I'm just going to humble myself to my spiritual father's advice and try and put first things first. And sometimes that will mean I make these on-line confessions.

It Should be OK

It has been interesting, challenging, and rewarding to blog. I've met a few people on-line and as a result have had some heart-to-heart conversations both on-line and via email. But after a fairly long struggle in prayer over the last couple years, it is finally clear to me that I must simplify and redirect my life if I want to end this leg of the journey in peace. This means a number of things, one of which is I'm going to stop blogging. As gently as I can, and with God's help, my intent is to untangle some of the knots I have tied myself into over the course of my life. Over the past weekend, Photini and Sub-Deacon Gerasimos helped me see the direction my life is taking a little more clearly, and Elder Paisios summed it up nicely tonight in a chapter entitled "On Chastity and Love" from a collection of his letters to nuns published with the title, The Epistles.

After dinner, I read aloud from this chapter to my wife and our cat. It was sort of like having the Elder sit at the table with us. He's very plain-spoken, simple, but a little hard to hear. The dead may speak softly, but they speak with authority. I decided I need to try and do what he says. Please pray for me. I have weakened my conscience substantially over the years through neglect, so I figure I'm going to have a bit of a battle on my hands since I've grown accustomed to "busyness." But I also figure God will help me, so it should be OK.

Take care, Bill

Vain Pursuits

Why do you increase your bonds? Take hold of your life before your light grows dark and you seek help and do not find it. This life has been given to you for repentance; do not waste it in vain pursuits.

St. Isaac the Syrian

Two funerals in three days rearranges your priorities. Especially when you have the privilege of being present when someone departs this life. Photini, who was diagnosed with liver cancer just a few months ago, died Sunday night while a few of us had gathered around her bed in her apartment to chant the Vespers service. Just as we were reading the prayer of St. Simeon,

Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word; for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation which Thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for the revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to Thy people Israel (Lk 2:29-32)

Photini passed from this life to the next. It shook me to my core. Not just because she died, but because I knew that somehow that prayer had "released" her. I have no idea what I even mean by that - I'm much too sinful a person to comprehend such things. But I know what I say is true.

In the Orthodox tradition...at least the one I am being taught...death is dealt with by us rather than a so-called "professional." We satisfy the local authorities with the proper certificate of death, etc. but the "funeral industry" is not invited to participate. Photini's body was washed and dressed by a few women and she was carried out to the chapel and placed in her coffin by a few men while the priest led with a censor and we chanted, "Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us." That is the "natural" thing to do because everyone who is Orthodox recognizes that the context of this particular hymn is the procession with the icon of the crucified Lord on Great and Holy Friday. As soon as she died, her son (who is an Orthodox Priest) read the service for the departure of the dead, followed by her god-daughter reading the Psalms over her body. Meanwhile, as her body was being washed and prepared, folks were called to take their turn reading Psalms in the Church with Photini in-between portions of the All-Night Vigil for the dead and the funeral which was held at 11am the next morning (yesterday).

After the funeral, we gathered upstairs to share food with each other and memories of Photini. Then we drove out to Goldendale Monastery where the nuns were waiting by the open grave. Photini's son, Fr. Leo, chanted the burial service along with the nuns while Photini's coffin was open and lying on two planks above the open grave. We lowered Photini into the grave and we each threw a shovelful of dirt on top of the coffin. The nuns finished up while we gathered at the Monastery to have some coffee, tea, and treats the nuns had prepared. We also spoke with the Abbess, through a translator, who remarked, "Photini is better off than any of us." She was well aware of Photini's struggles over the last few years - working like a slave as a maid at a local motel for the medical insurance for her husband (Joannis) who she came home to take care of day after day. The nuns had even visited Photini and Joannis with holy relics from the Monastery a little over a year ago, since Joannis was too ill to make the trip. None of us thought Photini would die before her husband, because she seemed to have boundless energy. But it seems God decided to reward His faithful handmaiden with an early retirement.

I've learned more theology in the last three days than I did in three years at Seminary. The difference? Love. The distillation of the Orthodox teaching on death contained in the hymns we sing at the funeral services in the context of a loving community that faces death together is a powerful pedagogy.

Let us Gaze Openly at the Graves

I went to a funeral earlier today at The Church of the Annunciation, which is a "sister" Church for us at Holy Apostles. I didn't know Harold, the man who had died, but I had seen him many times during services because as a sub-deacon he was always there. Most of the time, he was helping young boys learn their duties as acolytes. I would sometimes just stand and watch the interactions he would have with the boys. He cared for them. That was always evident. Like a kindly grandfather, he would whisper (rather loudly since he was hard of hearing) and point them in the right direction and/or put the right thing in their hands, etc. I never saw him roll his eyes, sigh, turn red in the face or appear flustered - the way most of us react when distractions get the better of those little ones in our charge. He was just present with them, bringing them back to reality when their minds inevitably wandered far away during the long services of Holy Week and Pascha. It was a joy to behold, and even though I didn't know him I will miss that scene playing out in the Sanctuary.

When all is said and done and we are lying motionless in a coffin like Harold was today, it is only those small acts of kindness, patience, and love that will linger like a sweet fragrance. Memory eternal Harold! Your death, and the services of the Holy Orthodox Church, were a sobering reminder to me today of what is important and what is silly.

I could write much about an Orthodox Funeral - but I won't tire you with many words. I'm so grateful to be guided through the rest of my life by the wise council and strong arms of this tender Mother, the holy Orthodox Church. My soul is comforted with the loving way in which she baptizes her children, marries her young couples, blesses her virgins who are seeking "that one thing needful" in the ranks of the monastics, and buries her dead.

With what can we compare our life?
In very truth unto a flower, smoke and the morning dew.
Come, therefore, let us gaze openly at the graves.
Where is the beauty of the body, where is its youth?
Where are the eyes and the fleshly form?
All are consumed like the grass, all have been destroyed.
Come, let us fall down before Christ with tears.

-from the Stichera of the last kiss

Two Horses

Sometimes, when I rush home from work, throw on my Reader's robe and walk into a church service like last night (Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete) I get the feeling I am standing on two horses like those circus riders do. One horse pounds out this amazing rhythm of spiritual life as passed down by the Church Fathers, while the other one pounds out an equally amazing rhythm of daily life passed down by another set of Fathers (and Mothers). I find it disconcerting because even though the horses beneath me are running side-by-side for the moment, they are horses of a different color and could take off in opposite directions at any moment. Our dear Photini (member of our parish who is dying of liver cancer) has shifted her weight to one of these horses now, and within the next few days she will most likely depart this life. In some ways, I envy her.

The Annunciation

I walked through the Deacon's door and into the Sanctuary this morning to vest for the Divine Liturgy being celebrated today in commemoration of The Feast of the Annunciation (our Parish is on the old calendar) and said to Fr. Nicholas:

"The Theotokos gave me a little gift this morning." (I did not pre-meditate these words. They were as much of a surprise to me as they were to Fr Nicholas.)
With a bit of a puzzled look, he asked, "How so?"
"Well", you know that jury duty summons I got about a month ago that said the trial would last at least two months?" I continued, smiling as I started to realize what I had just previously said.
"Yes."
"And remember how this trial was going to make it impossible for me to attend any of the Holy Week services at the end of April?"
"Yes."
"Well, there was a postcard laying outside my door this morning saying my jury duty had been cancelled!"
"Glory be to God!", said Fr. Nicholas crossing himself, as he turned to finish his preparation (Proskomedia) for Divine Liturgy.

No, I don't believe in coincidence. By the grace of God, I hadn't gotten all upset when I received the jury duty summons. I had been listening to Fr. Thomas Hopko's series on the Lord's Prayer for the past several weeks, and there is so much emphasis in this Prayer on submitting to God's will, that I couldn't help but see this potential 2-month plus jury duty in that light. I pretty much put it in God's hands and hadn't thought of it too much.

So, please forgive me as I enjoy my teeny little "annunciation" of reprieve this morning. I want to publicly thank the most Holy Mother of God for interceeding on my behalf and magnify her Feast of the Annunciation which celebrates her submissiveness to the will of God the Father. Her willingness to be a public laughingstock and to patiently endure the joy, confusion, and incredible pain of raising the incarnate Son of God Who was born in the shadow of the Cross, is truly our salvation. Most Holy Theotokos, save us!



"Rejoice, O virgin Theotokos, the Lord is with thee!"

The Cure

I was at a Lenten Men's retreat at The Monastery of St. John the Forerunner, near Goldendale, WA this past Friday night through Sunday morning. Constantine Zalalas (who I've written about before) , was the featured speaker. The topic was "spiritual illness and its cure". While eating lunch on Saturday, I had an interesting conversation with James, a fellow Orthodox blogger that seemed like the perfect illustration of the retreat's topic. I'll probably get the details of the story wrong, so James please feel free to correct me if you happen to read this.

While sharing stories of our respective journeys from Protestantism to Orthodoxy, James mentioned a friend's journey, the likes of which I've heard more than once by now. It seems that James' friend became aware of Orthodoxy and was very interested in "checking it out." He was married, and feeling the need to be "one" with his wife, he tried to interest her in Orthodoxy as well. But she wasn't buying it. He couldn't budge her, no matter what arguments he used. I don't know how long this went on, but eventually his wife was able to articulate her primary reason for not joining him in his "quest." She said something like, "You go ahead. I want to see if Orthodoxy changes you first. If I see a difference in you, then maybe I'll reconsider." I don't know how the story turned out - whether they ended up becoming Orthodox or not. But I agree with her. It's the cure of the soul that matters.

When it is all boiled down, that is exactly why I eventually abandoned Protestantism. I lost confidence in its ability to cure me. The hyper-rationality, hyper-emotionalism, or hyper-self-direction I encountered in the various groups I was involved in, led me from sickness to sickness. That may seem harsh, but honestly, in hindsight, it was my experience. But thank God, the "method of cure" (i.e. the ascetic life) prescribed by the Orthodox Church has enabled me to make a little progress towards spiritual health. I don't know how much - I'm not really interested in grading myself - but there has been the beginning of some healing of my many soul-wounds. I'm grateful beyond description and with each passing day I appreciate the wisdom embodied in the living tradition of the Orthodox Church more and more. Not only that, but I'm also finding that the various numbing agents I've become addicted to over the years (food, sex, music, etc.) in an attempt to dull the ache in my soul, has lost some of its appeal. Again, not much yet...but it is noticible to me and those close to me. Jesus Christ, "Who came down from heaven and was born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary" is the cure. And our mother...His glorious bride...the "one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church," the Orthodox Church, slowly nurses us back towards health.

Let's Hear it for Tradition!

Wisdom gets passed down. We need our elders. Here's a very recent and practical example. YEEHAW!!!