Those who have been found worthy of using things as they ought to be used should in all humility give heartfelt thanks to God, for by His grace they have been freed from what is contrary to nature and from the transgression of the commandments. We, however, who are still subject to the passions and who still misuse things, and who therefore act in a manner that is contrary to nature, should tremble and in all gratitude should give heartfelt thanks to our Benefactor, astonished at His unutterable forbearance, in that though we have disobeyed His commandments, misused His creation and rejected His gifts, He endures our ingratitude and does not cease to confer His blessings on us, awaiting until our last breath for our conversion and repentance. REF:St. Peter of Damaskos, “God’s Universal And Particular Gifts”, from G. E. H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, and Bishop Kallistos Ware, “The Philokalia: Vol. III,” (London: Faber and Faber, 1984), pp. 172 – 173.
An odd thought…
I think Adolf Hitler ruined the remarkable Charlie Chaplin moustache. If you were a fan of the late great actor and wanted to grow one just like his as a tribute there would probably be no end of the trouble you’d have. Certainly you’d spend many hours trying to explain yourself. The interesting thing is that WW1 pictures of Hitler show him with a handlebar moustache. Somewhere along the way he changed it and Charlie Chaplin wistful was turned into Hitler sinister. Sad.
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All I want for Christmas…
This, and, of course, world peace…smile
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Jesus is everywhere…
in Branson, on signs, in gift shop trinkets, t shirts, shows, and billboards. There seems to be a little bit of him everywhere you look and on the main drag churches share the billing with music groups, animal shows, and the hollywood wax museum. In some ways he’s the unseen star of this little town tucked in the heart of the Bible belt.
Coming from the rest of the world its kind of odd, Jesus everywhere and people talking about him like they mean it and not just after hitting their thumb with a hammer. In Branson Jesus is just part of the deal, along with stores that sell knives, ozark buffets, and rich guys who pretend to be hillbillies for two shows a day.
It could be, of course, that I just come from up north where that kind of thing doesn’t happen as much. We don’t get a whole lot of Jesus billboards in Minnesota or restaurants with scriptures on the menu. Perhaps I’m just as much a fish out of water and someone driving up here from Arkansas might be. For sure it does take a certain amount of adjustment to take it all in.
Certainly if I don’t always understand or appreciate the whole tourist trap Jesus on bumper stickers and key chains sort of thing I appreciate the desire behind at least some of it. For some its probably just about what sells but for others it seems that at least some people think enough of Jesus to talk about him outside of church. There are true believers in these hills, regular folks who are trying to find their way through life and are looking to Jesus to show them how. I can respect that even if i don’t get all the trappings.
And if the truth be known I hope they would be able to respect me looking out over Table Rock lake, prayer rope in hand, and pondering the silence. I have my trappings too and I could just imagine what a person from the First Free Will Missionary Baptist Church in some small town would think when they walked through the doors at St. George.
Still, an onion dome or two down there might look nice…
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Thoughts on food…
Having guarded ourselves against distractions and worries, let us turn our attention to our body on which mental vigilance is completely dependent. Human bodies differ widely from one another in strength and health. Some by their strength are like copper and iron; others are frail like grass. For this reason everyone should rule his body with great prudence, after exploring his physical powers. For a strong and healthy body, special fasts and vigils are suitable; they make it lighter, and give the mind a special wakefulness. A weak body should be strengthened by food and sleep according to one’s physical needs, but on no account to satiety. Satiety is extremely harmful even for a weak body; it weakens it, and makes it susceptible to disease. Wise temperance of the stomach is a door to all the virtues. Restrain the stomach, and you will enter Paradise. But if you please and pamper your stomach, you will hurl yourself over the precipice of bodily impurity, into the fire of wrath and fury, you will coarsen and darken your mind, and in this way you will ruin your powers of attention and self-control, your sobriety and vigilance…. (pp. 133-134) The Arena: An Offering to Contemporary Monasticism, by St. Ignaty Brianchaninov (Jordanville, NY: Holy Trinity Monastery, 1991)
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A hymn from my childhood…
I heard this hymn sung at a performance of “Smoke on the Mountain” last night in Branson. As I listened a quiet place from many years gone by came back and settled within me, even if just for a moment.
There is a Fountain…
There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
I’ll sing Thy power to save,I’ll sing Thy power to save,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!
’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.
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Of course…
there are t-shirt places all over the place and cheesy souvenir shops to boot. Want a rubber tomahawk? Branson is your place. Need a fix of over the top hillbilly music? Been there done that. Need to find a place where your money can be systematically extracted as you drive through? It’s just about a half hour south of Springfield, and an easy drive north of Arkansas.
But the mornings. The day and night may belong to the shopkeepers, the singers, the vendors and the faux hillbillies but the morning is still itself, the morning. Birds of all kinds. Quiet all around. Plenty of places to sit and think and pray. The day and night are all about the show that must go on but the mornings are as close to the primeval garden as can be had in easy access to indoor plumbing.
Some day I’ll return but without any ticket to anywhere, just a place to sit, holy books to read, and a prayer rope. Who knows what good could come from a week of such things? Heading north tomorrow I’ll already be working on the plan.
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On anger…
Anger is by nature designed for waging war with the demons and for struggling with every kind of sinful pleasure. Therefore angels, arousing spiritual pleasure in us and giving us to taste its blessedness, incline us to direct our anger against the demons. But the demons, enticing us towards worldly lusts, make us use anger to fight with men, which is against nature, so that the mind, thus stupefied and darkened, should become a traitor to virtues. Abba Evagrius the Monk(Texts on Active Life no. 15)
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Wisdom and Beauty…
“We who mystically represent the Cherubim and sing the Thrice Holy Hymn to the Life Giving Trinity. Let us now lay aside all earthly care that we may receive the King of All who comes invisibly upborne by the angelic hosts.”
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The busy time of year…
is ahead smack in the middle of Nativity Lent. As per usual wresting time for holy things will be the greatest challenge in a world too busy during the day and too tired at night.
I do what I do for others. I know this. Behind every holiday there are a class of the seldom seen, people who plan and work and clean so that others can effortlessly celebrate the season. Serving at church and working at an assisted living facility I am one of those people, popping up at the right time to ensure that all is well and then quietly retiring to wash the plates. No complaints, it’s a gift given to any who would receive it and my joy to give.
Yet my hope, my prayer in all of this, is that I don’t lose the mystery, the awe, the grace of this holy season. When gatherings are over, when liturgies are served, and all is quiet and done, even for a short moment, I hope there’s a place inside of me that can stand with the shepherds in the presence of angels on Bethlehem’s starry night.
And now to the work ahead…
The Beautiful Path 