My daughter Christine

I promise that a real blog post will be forthcoming.  Lots to talk about: moving, new job, new parish, new house, new state, the whole nine yards.  At the moment I'm at a Dunkin' Donuts in Boston, MA, having spent the last several hours at Holy Cross Seminary in Brookline.  This is my opportunity to introduce to you our daughter...or at least her patron.

Felicity and I spent several weeks thinking we were going into labor.  Three to be exact.  One night of almost constant pain for Felicity, we ran into St. Christina of Tyre.  I say "ran into" as though it were an accident.  Understanding that she stepped up and presented herself to us, we prayed, asking for her help, and "dedicating" our daughter to her.  Here is her icon and her hagiography as it appears on the OCA website:

Martyr Christina of Tyre Commemorated on July 24

The Martyr Christina lived during the third century. She was born into a rich family, and her father was governor of Tyre. By the age of 11 the girl was exceptionally beautiful, and many wanted to marry her. Christina's father, however, envisioned that his daughter should become a pagan priestess. To this end he placed her in a special dwelling where he had set up many gold and silver idols, and he commanded his daughter to burn incense before them. Two servants attended Christina. In her solitude, Christina began to wonder who had created this beautiful world. From her room she was delighted by the stars of the heavens and she constantly came back to the thought about the Creator of all the world. She was convinced, that the voiceless and inanimate idols in her room could not create anything, since they themselves were created by human hands. She began to pray to the One God with tears, entreating Him to reveal Himself. Her soul blazed with love for the Unknown God, and she intensified her prayer all the more, and combined it with fasting. One time Christina was visited by an angel, who instructed her in the true faith in Christ, the Savior of the world. The angel called her a bride of Christ and told her about her future suffering. The holy virgin smashed all the idols standing in her room and threw them out the window. In visiting his daughter Christina's father, Urban, asked her where all the idols had disappeared. Christina was silent. Then, having summoned the servants, Urban learned the truth from them. In a rage the father began to slap his daughter's face. At first, the holy virgin remained quiet, but then she told her father about her faith in the One True God, and that she had destroyed the idols with her own hands. Urban gave orders to kill all the servants in attendance upon his daughter, and he gave Christina a fierce beating and threw her in prison. Having learned about what had happened, St Christina's mother came in tears, imploring her to renounce Christ and to return to her ancestral beliefs. But Christina remained unyielding. On another day, Urban brought his daughter to trial and urged her to offer worship to the gods, and to ask forgiveness for her misdeeds. Instead, he saw her firm and steadfast confession of faith in Christ. The torturers tied her to an iron wheel, beneath which they lit a fire. The body of the martyr, turning round on the wheel, was scorched on all sides. They then threw her into prison. An angel of God appeared at night, healing her wounds and strengthening her with food. Her father, seeing her unharmed, gave orders to drown her in the sea. An angel sustained the saint while the stone sank down, and Christina miraculously came out of the water and reappeared before her father. In terror, the torturer imputed this to sorcery and he decided to execute her in the morning. That night he himself suddenly died. Another governor, Dion, was sent in his place. He summoned the holy martyr and also tried to persuade her to renounce Christ, but seeing her unyielding firmness, he again subjected her to cruel tortures. The holy martyr was for a long while in prison. People began to flock to her, and she converted them to the true faith in Christ. Thus about 300 were converted. In place of Dion, a new governor Julian arrived and resumed the torture of the saint. After various torments, Julian gave orders to throw her into a red-hot furnace and lock her in it. After five days they opened the furnace and found the martyr alive and unharmed. Seeing this miracle take place, many believed in Christ the Savior, and the torturers executed St Christina with a sword.

New baby!

We have a new baby.  That's right.  Felicity gave birth yesterday afternoon to a beautiful baby girl. Father was able to get to the hospital that night in order to say the prayers for Felicity and for new baby!

O Lord our God, to thee we pray, and on the we call, Let the light of thy countenance be signed on this thine handmaid, Christine, and be she signed with the cross of Thine only-begotten Son in her heart and understanding, that she may flee the vanity of the world and every evil device of the enemy, and may keep thy commandments; and grant, O Lord, that thy holy name may remain upon her unrenounced, when at the fitting time she shall be conjoined with thy holy church, and be perfected with the terrible mysteries of thy Christ, that, living according to thy commandments and preserving the seal unbroken, she may attain to the blessedness of thine elect in thy kingdom, through the grace and love to man of thine only-begotten Son, with whom thou art blessed, together with thy most holy, and good, and life-creating Spirit, now and ever, and to ages of ages.  Amen.

Hail, grace accorded God-bearing Virgin!  for out of thee the sun of righteousness, Christ our God, hath shined, enlightening them that are in darkness.  And thou, O Righteous elder, be thou glad, receiving in thine arms the deliverer of our souls, even him that granteth resurrection unto us.

The preceding prayers were from the Book of Needs found at Christian Classics Ethereal Library, a ministry of Calvin College

Picking diamonds out of dustbins

I feel like this post could be about any number of things: my daughter's impending birth; our imminent move to New York; or the growing relationship between us and the Orthodox Church and its feasts, saints, and fasts.  The last topic may be closest to a summary of the forthcoming post.  You be the judge.

I told my father the other day, that you don't know how bad a sinner you are until you start realizing how amazing God is.  It's that understanding of God's greatness and my desperate need for His forgiveness and mercy that has hit me like a ton of bricks this past month, specifically.  God is amazing and holy.  I am sinful and broken.  That sinfulness and brokenness is also dangerous, because it tends to hit everyone else with the shrapnel of the little bombs that go off in my life.

I don't know what it is that makes my sin become more apparent while becoming Orthodox than my righteousness.  I know that's an arrogant question, but it is the question I've been asking.  I really wish that people could see my growing faith and piety rather than be scandalized by my apparent regression.  It's frustrating, and it's the life I'm living in as we speak.

I'm praying that God will forgive me every day, and every day I find more reasons to ask for forgiveness.  I pray for God to give me mercy and strength to make it through the day, and every day I feel like I fall into bed exhausted and defeated by the weight of sin and struggle that rests on my shoulders every day.

Please pray for us.  Please pray for my wife as she gives birth to our new daughter.  Please pray for us as we move all of our worldly possessions once again to a new place.  Pray that as more sharp edges get revealed they get smoothed once again.  Most of all forgive me.  If you run into me and get struck by the shrapnel of my sin, please forgive me and pray for me.  God is love.

Living in the desert

I'm having a bad day.  I'd like to just begin by saying that.  I've pounded my keyboard, slammed down on the left click button of my mouse, and have generally ignored the world around me for the last hour.  I'm not sure what crawled up my hinder and died, but it's something.  I want to give you the context for this post--at least emotionally--before things get rolling.  You've all been warned.

I borrowed this picture from S-P's blog at pithlessthoughts.blogspot.com.  I found it the other day, and I found it both funny, satirical, and convicting all at the same time.  Since deciding to become catechumens, I've been giving a lot of thought to the direction of our lives.  Suddenly questions of "how long..." are coming to the forefront; whereas before I was more than contented to think in terms of years down the road--if at all.  I think I expected that something would come up (as my parents do now) that would prevent me from entering Orthodoxy.  Now, in some respects, I've already "come in".  I'm still waiting to be invited to come further into the house and eat at the table, but I'm in.  I've stopped sitting on the outside and peeping in like a spiritual voyeur.  I've now become a full-fledged catechumen.  I'm not sure what it means, but I know that it means I'm not just playing games anymore.

So I look over this to-do list, and I can honestly laugh at the irony presented by it.  I can giggle at the snark.  I can roll my eyes at "those ridiculous people" who think that by becoming Orthodox they become a lay monk--a monkabee.  When I give it a closer look, though, I realize how easily I fall into these types of things and I worry about keeping myself in balance between doing too little and not doing enough.

I've received no clear instruction on anything remotely touching on preparing for chrismation.  None.  We're not even fasting.  I'm not upset by this, but it is weird.  I think I expected our entrance into the catechumenate would come complete with welcome packet including instructions on when to meet with the priest, how many Jesus prayers to do, and instructions for setting up a home icon corner.  None of these things have happened.  This is ok.  We're moving.  Fr. C. will not be our priest for much longer.  Our preparations will be handled by another man.  I think if it weren't for the even keeled way that Fr. C. has handled our inquiry and our new catechumenate as prepared us for the long waits that await us.  A to-do list like the one above is nice, but let's be honest, it's absurd.  All of the important things are left undone, including denying yourself, picking up your cross, and following our Lord.

Denying myself is not something I do well.  (More on that later)  Right now I'm having trouble being humble enough to mend a growing rift between me and another member of my family.  It's so easy to be selfish.  It's so easy to be angry.  I don't want to take another step until I have figured out how to follow Christ by giving of myself and giving up on my self.

Catechism breeds impatience

I'm sorry that it's been a month since I last posted.  Felicity came down on me the other day because she's been blogging more regularly than I.  I've been through a lot in the past few weeks, and it always seems to happen when I don't have internet connection.  For example, I was in Annapolis on the world's longest job interview and had no internet connection the entire week!  So when I got the job on Wednesday, I wasn't able to do anything about it in my internet life.  Having had time to process a lot of this, allow me to start with my point made above: Catechism breeds impatience.

That could be unfair and inaccurate.  Perhaps more precisely, being catechized enhances my already natural predilection towards impatience.  Understanding that we were being patient until the notion of being catechized was presented to us by our priest last month.  After talking with him, lots of prayers, and considering our position we thought it best to step that much closer into the Church.  Since my new job brings us to Upstate, New York, we wanted to go to a new parish as Catechumens with the blessings of our priest than as "inquirers" and remain nebulous for another year.  So on July 25th all three of us were welcomed into the Church and began our Catechesis...three weeks before we move to a brand new state, city, parish, but hopefully not jurisdiction.

I had a dear friend tell me that Catechism was the beginning of a long life spent waiting.  Learning patience, I assume.  Our priest hasn't given us a lot of instruction as newly catechized members of the church, though he has given a little direction.  I think I expected a huge list of stuff to start doing (or stop doing) in preparation for Chrismation and life confession.  And that may still come from our next parish.  Right now, I'm trying to fit into my new clothes of Orthodox Christian.  It's so much the right thing and so much different from what I used to be.  I feel as though I've come home into the fold.  That The Good Shepherd finally found his 100th sheep wandering and was able to coerce it back into the fold without breaking its legs.  But maybe not.  Maybe He carried me in, and that's ok, too.

After a very busy week

This will probably not be a very long entry, but it is necessary to do a bit of updating - hopefully we'll have time to fully reflect on all these changes later on.
Over the past week or so we have had two very important developments, both in our "normal" life and our "Orthodox" life - as if one could separate the two.
The first is that Peter was able to land a teaching position at a school in upstate New York.  It is with much rejoicing that we will be moving to a more permanent location and a consistent financial stream, but with much sadness that we leave our mission church family here.  We have been well loved over the last few months.
The second development, which stems from the first, occurred yesterday - we were officially received as Catechumins. Our priest felt this was an important step to take before our move, and after consideration we agreed.
We'e looking forward to a third significant development (the birth of our second daughter) within the week.

My First Orthodox Funeral

Peter mentioned a few posts ago that we had a death in the parish.  It follows, therefore, that there was a funeral service as well.  While Peter had to work, his parents were able to watch our little one, so I was free to attend.  This was a relief for the choir director, he was happy to have another soprano at an otherwise sparsely attended service, as well as for our priest since I promised to bring a pasta salad for the after-service luncheon and he wanted to be sure there was enough outsider-friendly food for the newly reposed handmaiden's non-Orthodox family.


I'll admit that I was mostly concentrated on accurately sight reading the completely unfamiliar music and was not really able to take in everything about the service, but I did make a few observations that I'll share here.


The first thing I noticed was the set up of the room.  The casket was placed where the icon of the week usually stands in the middle of the nave.  The usual candle stands were there, but between them was a body.  The priest administered the service from the head of the casket, instead of behind the iconostasis/in front of the altar.  I know there was deep symbolism in this change, most of which at this point I don't really understand.  But, I did appreciate the fact that she both was and was not the center of the service.  While she was repeatedly mentioned by name throughout, it was clear that the point of the service was Christ and his resurrection - not her death.


Secondly, I was struck by the fact that we were encouraged to venerate the body.  I think that my terminology may be off though, reflecting the fact that I still just don't get so much of this.  It seemed more that we were venerating the body as an icon of the whole person who, though still in existence, had been unnaturally (though temporarily) separated from her physical body, and is currently in the presence of Christ.  So much of the language was similar or even exactly the same that we use during the weekly liturgy about the saint of the day.  I suppose this follows the logic: if she's actually seeing Christ face to face, why wouldn't we ask her to pray for us the same way we'd ask any other saint who is also in His presence?


Finally, I was glad to see that the service provided appropriate emotional space for grieving and yet also encouraged closure.  Now, it must be remembered that I was not in anyway related to the deceased.  In fact, I first saw her was at the funeral and her son, though he means well, rarely remembers my name from week to week.  I should also mention that my personal experience with funerals has been few and far between.  My grandfather, who died this past January, is the first person in my family to die since I was in elementary school.  Needless to say, the semi-Episcopalian memorial service held in his honor was so utterly lacking in, well, everything meaningful, it almost seems disrespectful to mention it.  In any case, I was struck by how the Orthodox funeral service encouraged the family and friends of the reposed to grieve the loss.  Death isn't natural, it isn't just the next step in nature's cycle, it is the product of our sin that both separates us from God and, in death, from each other and we should mourn that.  At the same time though, we were encouraged to remember that this separation is temporary and, while her body may be dead for now, her soul is still very much alive.  This seemed to me to be a very comforting thought.


In conclusion, I was both intrigued and impressed by the service.  I'm looking forward to attending more of the 'other' Orthodox services - baptism, weddings, etc., and learning more about how differently (refreshingly so, I think) the Orthodox view all aspects of life.

Being sensitive

This is designed to be a follow-up on the last post (found here).  Felicity and I have been doing a lot of praying and self-examination, waiting to hear from God about our next move: in deeper or status quo.  We were supposed to be having a conversation with our priest late this morning, but Matushka's mother is doing poorly, and she has gone to be with her, so Father is home with the boys.  Understandable, but it means that I need to do some "out loud" thinking.

Question 1: Do I see anything in Orthodoxy (after 4 months of active investigation plus 3 years of touristing) that makes me think we won't be joining the Church in 2 years' time anyway (enshalla)?

Answer: No.  I know that I don't even come close to scratching the surface of the fullness of everything that is Orthodox Christianity, but at this point there would have to be a fertility rite or cannibalistic orgy to deter me from continuing.  For the first time in my life, I would echo the sentiment of so many converts: it's like coming home.


Question 2: What, in reality, separates us from actual catechumens?

Answer: The ceremony.  At least as we see it.  We want to have the conversation with Father about it more specifically, but we feel that emotionally and spiritually we have entered into the catechumenate already.  We want to be part of the Church.  We just don't kwon what that all entails, but I have this inkling that the answer to that question is partially answered during the process of being catechumens.  
On a related note, there is is something to be said for that missing piece.  Last night in the Inquirers' Class we discussed the Holy Mysteries and the importance of symbols: making manifest to us the Reality.  Without that symbol of being received into the Church as catechumens, it doesn't matter how we feel because that Reality has not been made manifest.  To continue...


Question 3: What happened to taking it one year at a time?

Answer: No good answer.  There are elements of that decision which are still very relevant to our situation: parents, we haven't experienced everything yet, and the list goes on.  If we're only becoming catechumens because it would be nice for all of us as a family to be received at the same time, that's a bad reason.  If we're not becoming catechumens because we're waiting to have it all together with all the answers, that's a bad reason.  No good answer.


At this stage in the game, we're still inquiring.  God is faithful, though, and we have all of Eternity to "get it right."  I'm not in a rush any longer, but I feel like, having come to the place where I want to die in the Arms of the Church, I'd like to begin forming a deeper relationship with her.

Facing facts, naming names

This post dedicated to the memory of the newly reposed handmaiden of the Lord, Anna.

There's a book written about the Church and committing to it.  It's not a Bible or a text from the Holy Mountain.  In fact, it comes from the heart of the neo-Protestant movement and a young pastor (slightly older than myself) whose fame precedes him as "the dating guy"--or maybe the anti-dating guy would be more like it.  Joshua Harris (of I Kissed Dating Good-Bye fame) wrote a book several years ago now called Stop Dating (And Fall In Love With the Church).  His argument is straightforward: as Americans we need to stop church shopping, settling on the preaching or worship style we find the most appealing in a given month, and make a commitment to the People of God--Christ's Body.  Stop being so selfish, might be a good subtitle as well.  Where I come from we say it a little more bluntly (here self-censored) crap or get off the pot.

We've been "dating" Orthodoxy now, officially, for 5 months.  Beginning in early February, we began, in earnest, to listen, read, and learn about what makes the Orthodox Church unique and whether or not we want to be part of a tradition so rich and full yet so foreign and strange.  Through resources recommended by priests and available on Ancient Faith Radio, we've been podcasted, booked, lectured, lunched, conversationed, and prayed for in this journey and it's been incredible.  I feel like I don't know anything, but at the same time like I know more than I did before we got started.  I don't have time to go into the relationships we've discovered with the Faithful (living and departed), and the joy we experience each week in Liturgy and prayer; but know that these last 5 months have been incredibly life changing, which makes our upcoming decision so hard.

We had a memorial service this Sunday for a woman who reposed in the Lord on Friday.  She had expressed interest in joining the church, and with the blessing of Metropolitan Jonah was Chrismated and Communed last Sunday in her hospital bed in the ICU.  Her story affected me in a powerful way: I know how I want to die.  When I go, I want to be buried in the arms of the Church.

I'm not sure how to describe the moment.  It was like being in church, but we were surrounded by clouds and voices and singing.  We hadn't left the ground, but I was aware of being part of something so much larger: as though our hymns and prayers joined with the voices of angels and saints welcoming this woman into the eternal rest prepared for her.  I don't know that the unOrthodox can't go to heaven, but I know now that the Orthodox can.

Our priest presented us with a question which has really unsettled me.  Having gone through that experience, the next phase in our journey was opened to us.  With our second daughter on the way, Father commented to Felicity that he would like to receive the whole family together (it being slightly awkward to baptize a little one whose parents aren't Orthodox), and that he would be willing to receive us as Catechumens within the month.  We don't really know what to do.  Our plan was to take everything one year at a time both for our own mental and emotional well being and that of our families.  No sense in rushing in and playing catch up later, right?

I don't know what we're going to do--except talk with Father about it.  He's a wise, sensitive, and compassionate individual.  We want to make sure that he is aware of all of our concerns and fears before moving forward.  The question I'm now asking myself is, what holds me back from becoming a Catechumen?  Why not just do it?  I can't think of anything (except for externals) that make me believe we won't be joining the Church within 2 years anyway, so what am I worried about?  Doing it wrong, I guess.  Thoughts?

A thought on relevance

You probably remember my saying that I used to work in a church.  Working in a church is a special kind of hell (read heaven).  I absolutely loved my job, my co-workers, my kids, the building, everything.  Even the custodians were awesome!  This post isn't really about working in a church.

Once I remember having a conversation with my boss about preaching and teaching.  Our senior pastor had a habit of picking a new Christian book to preach out of that was based on a biblical passage rather than just preaching straight through Scripture.  All of this is fine, except people started to realize that our sermons month after month were based on something by Chuck Colson or Rick Warren rather than St. Paul or Sts. Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John.  This presented a problem for those of us on staff, especially in ministry.

My boss commented once that what people, especially people who are struggling, really want (read need) to hear is the Bible.  They don't want gimmicks.  They don't want bestsellers.  They want to hear God's words, not another author who has an opinion.  This idea came back to me this afternoon, after we had returned from another beautiful, moving, wonderfully mundane Divine Liturgy.  Orthodoxy's main concern isn't relevance in the modern understanding of the word.

As a youth pastor I was always concerned with being relevant.  New technology, new movies, new music, new clothes, new new new new new new...  You get the point.  If it wasn't cutting edge, it wasn't relevant.  As long as the kids were shocked and amazed, it was relevant and we had truly communicated the Gospel to them.  What I've noticed about our weekly services is that they're incredibly Relevant without being at all relevant.  The question isn't how do we make this more accessible? but how do we adequately and accurately communicate the truth of the Gospel to every person who walks through these doors?  That to me says more about the love the Church should have for a fallen and dying world.

Ask yourself, am I telling people that Jesus loves them?  When they come to my church, do they understand what it's all about?  For a newcomer, the Liturgy can be very confusing and overwhelming.  We need to hear the message spelled out: God loves you so much He died for you, and He wants to make you into His image. This is the most Relevant message available.

Life without baby

My (Peter's) parents took our daughter for the weekend.  It's a Father's Day present either to my dad or to me.  I'm not sure which.  Maybe both.  We're going to take the offering either way and enjoy some much needed husband and wife time before little girl #2 comes along sometime around Dormition.  As a consequence, we have been enjoying a wonderful weekend of church services, outings, dinners, and a soon-to-be experienced Toy Story 3 outing.


This was our first opportunity to take in the Vespers service at church this weekend.  Usually, do to our little monkey's sleep schedule, we aren't able to make it.  It's also a long drive.  We made it a point to go this weekend, because we wanted to go to the Akathist service to the Mother of God Healer of Cancer that our parish celebrates whenever it can fit into the calendar.  This was our first time we've been able to attend.


If you recall from the second part of my story from earlier in the year (found here) my first Orthodox service was an Akathist service to the Mother of God.  This was the first official Akathist I have attended since our decision to explore Orthodoxy began, and it was a very interesting experience.  I'm afraid I don't have a whole lot to say about it now.  I'd like to make a posting later about my experiences getting to know the Theotokos and devotion to her.  To say the least, it was a very moving service and we were personally very blessed to have been part of that experience with our parish.


This Sunday I was able to be part of the whole service!  Usually, I am in and out with the little girl; but without her there, we were able to stay (and stand) through the whole of the Divine Liturgy.  I find that week after week, I am learning and seeing things that I haven't experienced before.  The most significant part of this week was the sense of belonging that I have started to feel.  We've begun singing in the choir.  I was asked to play chess with an old Russian gentleman.  Felicity was having very personal conversations with various people and women in the church!  I got this sense of family that I haven't had since graduating from seminary and moving away from all our friends.


My family and I may never get along over Orthodoxy.  We may always have arguments about Saints, the Theotokos, Liturgy, Theology, et al.   It's ok.  We have family.  There are people who have entered into our life (some temporal and others eternal) who are looking out for us and will make sure that we're never truly alone.  Sorry if this posting is a little vague.

Weakness and Strength

Peter has been encouraging me to blog, despite my instance that there's "nothing" to blog about.  Of course, I realize that not actually having anything specific to write about hardly stops a blogger, in fact it probably encourages most of them.  I, on the other hand, like to wait for big events to happen which might provide for interesting reading material.  Lately, there haven't been too many of these.

Since we returned from our numerous vacations (to the beach with my parents, to a wedding in Ohio, to my sister's bridal shower) life has been relatively monotonous.  As an introvert, I'm really okay with this.  I like to spend my days at home, playing with our daughter, doing some house work, reading, sewing, and being quiet.  Lately, however, even these mundane and simple tasks have been difficult, the reason for which lends me my topic for today.

I'm not sure if we've mentioned it before, but I am currently in my seventh month of, so far, a wonderfully uneventful pregnancy.  The biggest problem I've had has been keeping my iron count and, consequently, my energy level up.  I've never been big on exercising or physical labor, but lately even little things like having breakfast in the morning or going up and down the stairs leave me out of breath and longing for a nap.  I know that there are many people with many conditions that have similar issues, but as a young woman who has been healthy her entire life this experience is completely new and foreign to me.  My natural inclination is to use the exhaustion as an excuse to be lazy, this then leads me to feel guilty about letting Peter pick up the slack in the house work, as well as thoughts about how bad I am at being a good wife, stay at home mom, etc.

Here's where our journey into Orthodoxy has met me head on.  First, I have a name for those depressing thoughts: logosmoi.  Just having a label is nice - it allows me to recognize them for what they are and dismiss them.  Second, I have found that I have the strength to do some things and that that strength comes from the Father and no where else.  That I have the ability to do anything by myself, even when not pregnant, is an illusion.  All my strength comes from Him - this experience has made that fact more apparent.  Finally, I know that I do not have the strength to do all that I feel is expected of me, but I can do all that He expects of me and there is much freedom in that.  I may be able to do the dishes, but I can't do the dishes, mop the floor, vacuum, do laundry and go shopping.  

That's okay.  Things will get done in their own time.  I can let go and rest in his light yoke.

Let Us Attend: Part 2

It's been several weeks since my last post about Let Us Attend, by Fr. Lawrence Farley from Canada.  Here's the link in case you forgot what I wrote and/or need a refresher on the book and where you can buy it.  Since I wrote the last post, I've had time to finish the book (twice) and process a little bit more about my Sunday morning experiences at church.  The last time I wrote, I was thinking a lot about the focus of worship on Sunday morning.  This time, I've been contemplating about the lessons of worship.


Reminders
Each week I leave church reminded of three things: Who God is, Who I am, and Who Jesus is.  I am thrust into these reminders very quickly.  The first few Antiphons serving as a prologue or thesis statement on the rest of the Liturgy.  If you asked me what Church was about, I would tell you (with very little variation), that it was about those three things.

Who God is
Without being a theological treatise on the nature of God, this is what I learn each week: God is loving, good, compassionate, merciful, forgiving, and holy.  The words of the first two antiphons (Ps. 103 and 145, respectively) remind me of these truths.

"Bless the Lord, o my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy Name...  The Lord is compassionate and merciful, of great goodness....  He will not always chide....  He maintains His faithfulness to all generations...."

We then get to hear about His work in history through the reading of Scripture (always preceded by psalms and Alleluias).  The service climaxes with the request that He come into our lives, fill us, bless us, and turn the gifts on the table (mysteriously) into the Body and Blood of Christ.  God is.  That is what I learn each week about God.

Who I am
In a metaphysical sense, I am a creature of material make up.  More than that, though, I am created in God's image and destined to be made like Him by His work in me through the Holy Spirit.  We remind each other throughout the service to worship God with our whole being, that He is compassionate and merciful to the humble; but He resists the proud.  Lay aside pride.  Sit at His feet.  Drink deeply of His mercy.

The Scripture lessons remind me that I am sinful and in need of a savior.  They also remind me that God chose to be that savior.  That He loved me so much that He became a human being to live and die for me and rescue me from Hell.  That reality is never more clear than at the time of communion.  As I sit and watch the faithful go forward to the chalice, I truly do wish for them to taste the Bread of Life and drink from the Fountain of Immortality.  I want that for them, because I want that for me.  We are all one body, and I am so dependent on each of them right now--their prayers and support.

Who Christ is
Christ is God incarnate.  Christ is the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, who took on flesh and blood and lived and died in real time.  His picture is in our room.  His mother and His faithful followers adorn our church.  His eyes follow me.  His presence permeates the room where we worship.

The icon of Christ at our church is in English.  The Gospel text is "Come unto me all you who are weary...."  Every week I approach that icon and place all my cares into his hands.  I come to Him, asking to have my burden lifted.  I teach my daughter to worship Him alone.  When I leave church each week I go out knowing that He was born, lived, died, rose again, ascended, intercedes for us, and will someday come again.

Reminders
Let us attend.  Let us be attentive.  It's a call for each of us to "lay aside all earthly cares" and to listen to what is being said.  The human mind wanders, and the imagination gets away from us.  Those times when we are reminded to listen are there for our benefit, because God knows what it's like to have distractions, and the Church knows that people are weak and need reminders.  So let us attend.  God is present.  God is loving.  You are a sinner who needs Jesus.  Jesus loves you so much He died for you.  Remember.

Coming up empty

This week has been really hard.  Beginning at the beginning, Felicity's parents visited church this weekend.  We had let them read Frederica's 12 Things article to prepare them for the service.  Even though they've had a girl living with them who is also exploring Orthodoxy, they've never been to the Divine Liturgy before.  (In case you don't remember, her parents grew up either irreligious or very strictly fundamentalist.  Neither is very comfortable around a lot of ceremony.)  This Sunday being Pentecost, the service was really different.  We didn't even know what was going on, and trying to help them follow along was also hard.

The trip back home was really nice.  A lot of good conversations: what was happening when..., why did they..., what did that mean...? Good questions, good conversation.  It also continued into the afternoon and evening.  They both thanked us for taking them and I think they're doing some processing of their own.  My mother-in-law kept saying, "I'm a Protestant!  This is so different!"  Not in a bad way, just as an observation.

Sunday afternoon I also had a conversation at a McDonald's with my parents.  My mom kept calling it my "Greek Orthodoxy Thing" (she doesn't get Jurisdictional heirarchy any more than I do).  She asked me "Is this Jesus plus?"  No.  "So you don't worship Mary?"  No.  "Transubstantiation in communion?"  It's still bread and wine, but it's not just bread and wine.  I felt really blindsided by the conversation.  I knew it was going to be coming up, I just wasn't prepared for it.  Their main concern was that we spend time thinking about all that we're doing--as opposed to just popping up and doing it because it's new and shiny.  Good concern to have.  They're very wise people.

If a few weeks ago I felt fine not knowing anything, I don't feel that way anymore.  Why is it so hard to have a good day after you spend the morning and evening praying?  Why are the attacks so much more violent now?  How come I can't "greet the coming day with peace" or see "everything that happens as sent by You"?  Why does our relationship feel more strained than it used to?  How come I can't just answer the questions our parents ask?  I'm just coming up short in so many ways, and that's very hard.

The past few days have been very hard as well.  My last check from the old job comes this week.  I work for very little money--not enough to really pay all of the bills that we have.  I had a really good interview on Monday with a school down here, but I'm still waiting to hear if I'll have a job or not.  No one else is calling.  This is where real life meets fantasy, and I'm caught somewhere in the middle of it all.

It's hard to keep praying, when praying seems to make things harder.  It's hard to stay faithful, when you realize that you haven't given as much thought to what you're doing as your parents (or others) think you should have.  I know we're only in the beginning of this experience.  I know there's more, better things to come.  Right now, the sky is dark and I'm waiting for the moon to rise.

The Parents' Visit

This past week we enjoyed a wonderful vacation in a beach side condo with my parents.  Oh the joy of Sabbath.  The week culminated, after our return home, with my parents coming to liturgy with us.  It was their first time in an Orthodox service and maybe their second in a liturgical service - they usually attend a non-denominational, "low threshold" church (see my previous entry about growing up in the Vineyard).  We did our best to prepare them by talking about the service and having them read Frederica Matthewes Greene's essay "12 things I wish I'd known..."

The service itself went well, aside from it being Pentecost so following the Liturgy in the book was difficult, and my mom took a break from the incense for fifteen minutes or so after the homily.  Coffee hour was great, since it gave them a chance to talk to some members of the congregation.

I think the toughest part, at least for my mom, was the lingo (Theotokos, antiphon, anaphora, Eucharist, etc.). As she said "it takes Christianese to a whole other level."  Somehow we also failed to impart the fact that the iconostasis (you know, the wall with the pictures at the front) separated the congregation from the altar, not a storage closet.

Overall, it was a good visit and led to many conversations.  My parents are very interested in parts of Orthodoxy that I haven't thought about.  For instance, missions has always been big for them and they wondered how modern Orthodox reach out to the "unchurched", both in the States and around the world.  It's definitely something we will be looking into - I know Orthodox mission organizations exist, but that's about all I know at this point.

Basically, I think as long as we can keep the communication lines open they'll be okay with our eventual conversion - if we decide to go that route.  They don't seem to be opposed to anything in particular, just ignorant.

Here's one final anecdote from the weekend that I'll share because I found it to be very encouraging:

On Saturday evening, after a long conversation about Orthodoxy and the upcoming service, my mom asked my dad if he recalled the first time my grandmother had visited their church shortly after they were married.  Oh yes, he remembered.  My grandmother had always attended very strict traditional churches (my mom grew up Brethren, at the time I think she was attending a CMA church) and my parents were worried about her reaction to their more modern non-denominational church.  I think they were mostly concerned about the extreme difference in musical style, but come the Sunday of the visit a rather charismatic guest preacher spoke on the gift of tongues.  My grandmother, however, slept through most of the service and didn't have nearly the reaction they had feared.

Hearing this story, I thought back over all the conversations Peter and I have had about how our parents may or may not react to our exploration of Orthodoxy.  While my mom had no knowledge of those conversations, it was clear in that moment that Someone who did knew I needed some reassurance.

Still on vacation

Sorry we haven't updated recently.  Currently, we're still on vacation in North Myrtle Beach with Felicity's parents.  I hope you all have had a blessed week.  We'll be updating more after this weekend.  Her folks are coming with us to church on Sunday!  Prayers, please.

Xenia and Amelia

I'm beginning to settle into the pattern of our new church life.  I find that I enjoy saying morning and evening prayers and am becoming more comfortable praying in front of/with our icon corner.  My Protestant, Evangelical, Post-Modern self is relaxing, letting the Spirit work in ways that I previously never thought possible.  For example, we recently acquired an icon of St. Xenia.  She's rather obscure, as saints go and, from what I've read, lived out her faith in a way that most people would find ridiculous.  But, she got it.  She knew what was required of her and she did it faithfully.  When I see her icon, I'm reminded of the sacrifice she made, of the life she lived and the life she chose not to live, and I pray that she can help me do the same. 

I've never before made that sort of personal connection with a dead Christian (though I realize that is very much the wrong phrase).  The point remains: the "great cloud of witnesses" has, up until now, been just that - a cloud.  It was nice to know that a nebulous group of believers who lived through history had "gone before", but for the first time I'm beginning to see them as individuals with stories and experiences.  A "great cloud" of untapped spiritual resources who all want me and my family to succeed in this crazy journey and draw closer to Christ than they did in their own time on earth.

Another saint who seems to pop into our lives a lot is St. Amelia/Emily/Emilia.  She's also not very well known, in fact I wonder how much of her popularity is due to her life's work and how much is due to the prevalence of Emilys and Amys who take her as their patroness.  In any case, I was struck by the bit of text that is often found on her icons: "I and the children I have born".  As a young mother myself, I find that this simple phrase strikes deep.  It's hard right now to imagine my daughter as doing anything great in the world when she can barely walk from the living room to the kitchen without falling over, much less this new baby who will (with God's help) be born in a few months.  Yet I know that they will not always be babies, that someday they will have the opportunity to make a significant impact in the lives of others and, as their mother, it's my job to help them recognize those opportunities and give them the courage to seize them.  It seems both a simple and an impossible task, and it is reassuring to know that at least one mother did it so well that she was made a saint.

Not yet a catechumen

Sunday morning was funny.  I had a look at "the other half" while sitting just outside the doors to our little mission at a table.  My daughter A was acting up in the service, so I took her into the other room.

A little background on our little girl.  She's one.  9:30 is nap time.  10:00 is Liturgy.  You can see the problem that would arise from the collision of the two.  We try to get her up early on Sunday (6:30ish) to put her down for an early nap (8:15-:30ish) and then get on the road by 9:30 to be there by the end of the Hours and the beginning of Liturgy.  Around the Homily the little one gets restless, and it's usually Daddy who entertains her while Momma (who is incubating #2) can sit through the rest of the service.  (We usually change an incredible amount of diapers in this 2hr period.)

The aside being completed, the little girl and I were sitting at a table in the hall/narthex trying to pay attention.  While we were sitting, she started to eat cheerios from her little cup.  Another little girl was sitting across from us with her mom.  They're Orthodox.  Keep in mind, we aren't yet.  Little girl, probably 3 years old (at the most) points out that my little girl is eating cheerios.  It's actually really cute, because she really needs her mommy to see that the other little girl gets to eat (and I assume that the extension is, how come I can't eat).  Her mom whispers in her ear - she informs her little girl that because we aren't Orthodox, we don't have to fast on Sundays, because we aren't taking communion.

I'm comfortable being where we on our journey.  I believe that God is directing us, and we're following His guidance as best we can.  I'm not trying to rush anything.  In matter of fact, we're very contended where we are, waiting for guidance before we move any further in.  Not yet a catechumen.  Really not much of an anything.  But we're there to worship.  We're there to offer our praises to a living God who loves us and saved us from sin.  Lord, have mercy on us and bring us safely to the harbor.

Prayer corner

Felicity and I have received a very gracious gift from some friends at church.  They're moving (sadly) and needed to pass on some of their icons they won't have the room for, and haven't used in quite a while.  First thing that I discovered, nothing is accidental.  Second thing I discovered, when you open yourself up to who may be in your life, you discover just how many people are in your life.  Here's out little icon "corner":
                                                                               
The icons, in order of appearance are: Christ (center), St. Damiano Cross (top-center), St Herman of Alaska (top left), St Seraphim of Sarov (Top right) St. Xenia of St. Petersburg (bottom left), St. Nicholas (Bottom right) with a synaxis of the angels center bottom.  On the table we keep some print-out icons from the GOA and a paper diptych.  The center Triptych will be going in the car, eventually.




Here's where the first of my discoveries comes in: Nothing is accidental.  I've had the St. Nicholas icon for about 3 years, now.  It was a present from my roommate.  I got him in Grad School when I learned he was the patron saint of scholars (along with, apparently, everybody else).  When I first made real steps to explore orthodoxy, some "friends" on the Monachos dot Net website told me to look into the life of St. Herman.  Someone else told me to look into the life of St. Seraphim of Sarov.  Lastly, when I lost my job, numerous people told me to pray to St. Xenia of St Petersburg.  All of these are now currently situated in our home altar.  Nothing is accidental.

I wasn't sure what we'd discover in our Eastern Orthodox year.  So far, I have to say, things are really good.  I feel like people are going to bat for us.  Our priest is watching out for us and praying for us.  People we hardly know are giving us icons of men and women who have connected themselves to our family.  What a day.  What a great God.

Through the prayers of Sts. Seraphim, Herman, Xenia, and Nicholas may God have mercy on us and save us.

Meetings with priests

Lunch this afternoon with our priest.  We don't really have a topic of conversation to throw at him, but we want to sit and talk and pray and learn from him.  I haven't really sat down next to a member of clergy and talked about something non work related in a very long time.  I'm really excited just to be around him, hear more about his story, and to hear what he has to say to us about our spiritual journey.

One thing we do want to talk with him about is our personal spiritual life as it stands.  We've been praying morning and evening for about a month, and less frequently reading the daily Scriptures.  I want to talk about his, hear his advice and direction, and enjoy his input into our lives.