Life Along the Orthodox Way
for God, to God, about God, during the Liturgy, on the stage, or even while I’m alone in the car I feel like I’m giving God back the breath He has given me as an offering. I’ve been conscious about this recently, the idea that everything that comes out of my mouth is rooted in the breath of life that God has given me. How this will work out remains to be seen, but the reality of it has been with me as I serve the Liturgy these past few weeks.
Dr. Lynne Pappas: What you are saying presupposes that psychiatry and the systems have a real notion of what normalcy is. Outside of God, and we live in a godless society, no one really has a sense of what is normal, and so they make it up, they make it fit what they want it to be. That is why we have what we have. They have made a new definition of what normalcy is, and tomorrow they will make another one, based upon whatever urge they have at that point in time. And God is nowhere in the picture. It all comes back to that, and so we have redefined what a family is. We no longer look at what God created and said is a family, what God created and said is the “order of things”. We have thrown Him away, because we don’t need that, we don’t even know that He exists, and we are determining our values according to what “feels” good… So, the momentary passions and lusts are now what defines normalcy.
Yet in spite of the social pressure, a growing number of brave singles are making the promise to wait. Still others who have been sexually active in the past are committing to what might be called a “second virginity.” Regardless of their history, they’re making a commitment to start over, to live as “virgins” until they make a lifelong commitment in marriage.
The reason is not that they’ve got crooked teeth, bad complexions, or don’t bathe. Rather, they’re choosing to wait because they believe the Judeo-Christian tradition holds the best insight on building strong relationships and durable marriages.
but not in that way because it’s about football. The Vikings, specifically, our local NFL team.
After living here for decades I decided to give the Vikings a one year trial as a fan. In my life I’ve rooted for the Packers, the Dolphins, the Lions, and for some reason teams with interesting uniforms. I even have a jersey for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers of the Canadian Football League. I’ve just never quite gelled with the Vikings.
Actually its the Vikings’ fans that seemed to bother me the most. They seem so mercurial, hot and cold, on and off the bandwagon. Win one and they’re up. Lose and the whole thing is going to hell. Don’t even talk to me about the whole Favre thing. Vikings’ fans are so hungry for that Super Bowl that no one wants to hold on for the day-to-day for fear of being heartbroken when it doesn’t happen, or even looks like it couldn’t happen.
And something changed, as well, when they moved down town. The old Met Stadium had its flaws but what a parking lot, what tailgating. The games were more than four quarters, they were an event. Who can forget the pictures of the Purple People Eaters, cold winter Sunday, steam coming from everywhere, waiting for the shivering victims from LA, Dallas, or Tampa Bay? How different it is playing in a sterilized dome, parking in the same lot you use for work, and not even having room for a decent sized grill.
Still, I would like to give them a chance. The new coach is a Tony Dungy style man of character. I’ve lived here for most of my life. They finally took steps to get rid of some people who forgot that playing professional football is a privilege. I’m a sucker for strays, cats, dogs, people, and football teams (hence last year’s rooting for the Lions).
Who knows? I might get lucky and back a winner. I’ve got a jersey, on sale of course and I vetted the player. The games will be on TV. It would be good to see a decent man like Leslie Frazier have success. But we’re just dating, the Vikings and I, nothing permanent, no commitments, not even fans with benefits. Come January we’ll see.
where I heard this and probably can’t also quote it well but I heard something a few days ago that makes sense. “Among the most significant problems of our age is that we interpret the past by the present rather than interpreting the present by the past.”
Anoint my heart with the oil of Your mercy, my most merciful Lord.
May neither anger against the strong nor scorning of the weak ever erupt in my heart! For everything is weaker than the morning dew.
May hatred never make a nest in my heart against those who plot evil against me, so that I may be mindful of their end and be at peace.
Mercifulness opens the way to the heart of all creatures, and brings joy. Mercilessness brings fog to the fore, and creates a cramped isolation.
Have mercy on Your merciful servant, most Tender Hand, and reveal to me the mystery of Your mercy.
The Ultimate Man is the child of the Father’s mercy and the Spirit’s light.
All creation is merely a story about Him. The mighty suns in the heavens and the smallest drops of water in the lake cany in themselves one part of the story about Him. All the builders of heaven and earth, from the exceedingly mighty seraphim to rulers and the tiniest particle of dust, tell the very same story about Him, their fore-essence and fore-source.
What are all the things on the earth and the moon except the sun in stories? Truly, in this way all visible and invisible creation is the Ultimate Man in stories. Essence is simple, but there is no end or number to the stories about essence.
My neighbors, how can I tell you about essence, when you do not even understand stories.
Ah if you only knew how great the sweetness, the expanse, and the strength are, when one reaches the bottom of all thestories—there, where the stories begin and where they end. There, where the tongue is silent and where everything is told at once!
How boring all the lengthy and tedious stories of creatures become then! Truly, they become just as boring as it is for one who is accustomed to seeing lightning to hear stories about lightning.
Receive me into Yourself, O Only-Begotten Son, so that I may be one with You as I was before creation and the Fall.
Let my long and weary story about You end with a moment’s vision of You. Let my self-deception die, that would have me think that I am something without You, that I am something else outside of You.
My ears are stuffed with stories. My eyes no longer seek to see any display of clothing but You, my essence, overladen with stories and clothing.
A group is petitioning Children’s Television Workshop to allow Sesame Street puppets Bert and Ernie to get married. Oh, and they would also like a “tasteful” transgendered character added to the show as well.
They are an absolute deadweight upon society, because they contribute nothing yet cost the taxpayer billions. Liberal opinion holds they are victims, because society has failed to provide them with opportunities to develop their potential.
Most of us would say this is nonsense. Rather, they are victims of a perverted social ethos, which elevates personal freedom to an absolute, and denies the underclass the discipline — tough love — which alone might enable some of its members to escape from the swamp of dependency in which they live.
I’m not sure but it’s really creepy and I think the people who took these pictures, authorized them for the magazine, and especially the parents who let their 10 year old daughter pose for “Vogue” magazine need a real wake up call. The darkness of adults just seems to keep on being pushed on children.
and rehearsals with a group of Christian guys thinking about forming a band. We’re not sure where to go yet. We’re not even sure if this is the final line up. The possibilities, though, are too good to not, at least, take a shot and see what happens.
I would never be very good in a bar band. I’d last about one show because I’d ask the crowd “Why are you here? There’s a lot of life outside the door, don’t burn it up hanging around in this hole wasting daylight, money, and breath.” Around then I suspect the manager would be at the stage. I just don’t want to make money faking a good time to help other people fake having a good time.
I like the coffee shops, art fairs, farmer’s markets, and open mics. Those venues seem so much more constructive than dives and the people are usually not that interested in getting the show going so they can drink and find a new friend with benefits. The pay is low but you never find yourself in a ditch upside down and wondering what happened.
But to sing for the Lord, well that’s just another level entirely. It’s win / win. Play your heart out, rock your brains, volume up to 11 if you want to and lyrics where you never have to look over your shoulder. People who may never darken the door of a church will listen to a hot blues band and people of faith can let it loose without having to pick through the song like a person picking through garbage for pearls. There are places where my collar will never get me in but my bass will, and people I can talk to after the show that would never approach me after the Liturgy.
What will happen? I don’t know. We just pray before we start and then let it rip. If it’s to be it will and if not at least we tried and had a good time. Everything is in the hands of, to quote Larry Norman, the Rock that never rolls.
