that if people, if I, had even a passing understanding of the reality of God the problem would be not getting us “in” to church but rather getting us “out”.
Whenever…
you make a decision you essentially make it alone. You can take advice, pray, contemplate the evidence, try to anticipate the outcomes. Yet in the end the choice is yours, sign the paper, say the word, make the call. It can be like dying, there may be many who help along the way but only one makes the actual crossing.
How does a finite person make decisions? In the end we have so little, really, at our disposal. A feeling, perhaps, what we know or experienced, the counsel of someone we presume is wise. Yet they, too, are limited. Revelation matters, but it’s often painted in broad strokes even as life is lived in the moments and specifics.
The truth is you never know the full ramifications of anything and deceptions abound. How do you know that the woman at the altar won’t also be the one who tears your life apart down the road. The car that looks so new and right can be also be the one that drains your time and money. The poet said “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” but what if there are three, or eight, or you have to make your own?
Such are the results of fruits forbidden in ancient gardens and only the promise of future grace makes it somewhat palatable.
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Driving…
with the windows down is the only way to smell the passing world and feel the heat give way to the cool of night. There is music in the air, there always is, and Stillwater is beautiful as the shops close and darkness takes back the streets. I wonder sometimes, if heaven may be partly like this, cool sunny evenings and music on the boulevard. Who knows? Yet I can smell everything that goes past my car, the river, sleepy Bayport, cooking and firecrackers, grass in the night, and everything is good.
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Sleep…
All created things must rest. It is a gift of God to compensate for the weariness of a broken world, and in the case of we who are conscious of God a morning of refreshment as a token of the future day that never ends. The world is full of cares and troubles, there is always work to do, but sleep can be a few hours not unlike eternity, free of care, sheltered in the arms of God, and resting in the presence of angels. Sleep reminds us, as well, of the passage we will one day all make, a falling asleep to this world and a waking in that which is to come. Truly there is no night greater than that morning…
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Sabbatical…
Some of the people in my parish already know that I have applied and been approved for a sabbatical this coming year. It means, first of all, that some time in the near future I will be replaced as pastor of St. Elias, reattached to another parish, and then begin the sabbatical tasks, namely resting, renewing, completing a Master’s degree, and reading and studying deeply on Liturgy.
Don’t get me wrong. I love St. Elias. These are good people who have stood firm in the Faith through many years and will continue to grow and thrive. It’s just sometimes you know its time. My task was to prepare them for the good things yet to come. We have extensively remodeled the building. There are new families with children in the parish. With a little intentionality this can be a thriving parish. But I am tired.
A thousand miles or more of travel a month, three years with no days off, one vacation a year, it was all worth it because the people of St. Elias are worth it. Yet I need to rest and I believe that the next Priest will find an even better parish to serve while I take time not just to serve God, which is a good in itself, but also enjoy Him and renew those ties and that passion which brought me to the altar in the first place.
There are details to be worked out, it won’t happen all at once. Yet I’m ready for the next thing even as my prayers, and my heart will always be with St. Elias.
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A political prediction…
Just a wild guess in an arena that I often read about but seldom prognosticate. The recent information that someone in the administration has been offering jobs to two opponents of administration selected candidates to get them to drop out of the race will play out this way. Former President Clinton, who is alleged to have offered one of the positions, will make a public statement, with deep empathy, admitting his role. His wife, now Secretary of State, will soon after resign due to her “sadness” over the failed promise of the Obama administration. She gets the credibility of being a voice of good government even in the face of her own party, the foreign policy cred that comes with being Secretary of State, and two years distance between her resignation and the next election. He, that is former President Clinton, is none the worse for wear because he already is tainted but people still like him and expect nothing higher of him AND gets to payback his wife with the best gift of all, power, in trade for how many anonymous women X still remain.
Or maybe I should just take off my tin foil hat. Who knows? But that many of you will be thinking, “It could be…” shows how far things have slid down the chute.
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I've been reading…
as I begin a process of rediscovering the Liturgy and among the first things I’m seeing, again, is how much our worship is a catechism, embodying and teaching the Faith. Far from mindless ritual for its own sake there is meaning in each action, more motion than other forms of Christian worship to be sure but none of it wasted. Then it occurs to me.
How much do the people who are worshiping, priests led by a Priest, understand this? When confronted with the stripped down efficiency of most American Christian worship, something that promises to get them from wherever they are to some mystical “there” in 45 minutes or less how can people who have no idea what they are doing explain, understand, and more importantly embrace the Liturgy? Saying that we do this because we do this doesn’t seem to be the answer.
And why do we insist, in some Orthodox circles, that this complex, beautiful, and meaningful Liturgy who’s nuances, even its core, are in need of deliberate explanation be done outside of the common language? As I begin to read and learn myself what I should be teaching others that one thing has jumped out at me, the wisdom of putting the Liturgy in the language of the people. If they do not understand all the subtlety of action they can, at least, if they hear the words understand something, something that helps them participate and be the people of God doing the work particular to that calling.
So many questions but questions are where answers are born.
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On this Memorial Day…
weekend may God grant rest to all who have died in and through war and as we commemorate these sacrifices let us strive to our utmost to honor them by our commitment to pray and work for the peace of the world.
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It is the Sunday of All Saints…
the day in the year when those many who were not, or could not for the sake of the numbers be celebrated. It is good there are too many, Saints that is, more than the days even when stacked on top of each other. It is a sign of God’s grace to realize that far from being extraordinarily rare there is a bounty of holy people to assist our lives and imaginations, to call us to something higher and to hear our struggling calls for their help.
It is a truth as well, perhaps even a higher one, that is expressed in the timing of the Feast in the Orthodox Churches. It is the week after Pentecost and the link reminds us it is the grace of the Holy Spirit that gives us what we need to fulfill the saintly call on our lives. I think sometimes we think of Orthodox Saints as people of extraordinary effort or dedication, and that is true only to the extent that we don’t disconnect them from the power, the grace, the source of what they did, the Holy Spirit.
After years of spending time in and around the charismatic movements of Protestant life I have many examples of people saying “This or that things…” usually an emotional state or a sign is the mark of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Yet the true mark of the presence of Pentecost in any person, as in the Saints, is the hunger for God and a life of virtue. People claim there is revival when they fall down on the church floor or sing in a mystical language but Orthodoxy seems to teach that virtue, everyday holiness, faithfulness in moments, comes first and then, as God wills, other signs. After all which is more important, five minutes of singing in tongues or a lifetime consecrated to God?
This was a relief to me, a freedom to know that I wasn’t expected to be anything but faithful or do anything but orient my life to God. It didn’t have to be splashy or appear miraculous or even holy by whatever definition that term is used, just one foot in front of another, the greatest sign of them all. It is truthful to say that I am more, on this week of Pentecost, truly charismatic in Orthodoxy that I ever was in the myriad parishes, groups, and studies I wandered through on the way.
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Just so you know…
All the hubbub and violence about depictions of Mohamed has a varied basis in history. Follow this link to see a large number of representations of Mohamed through the centuries that were made by Islamic people themselves.
