I had a very interesting experience this week. My humility was called into question by someone who perceives themselves as a "good Christian". So it got me thinking whether I truly was humble, or whether I was acting out of false humility. It further got me wondering what exactly is a "good Christian" and what is a bad one.
I wasn't offended by the comment at all; when you have been onstage and done poorly, as well as done well, you have to develop somewhat of a thick skin in order not to be paralyzed with fear. The first thing I did was thank God for the opportunity to examine myself, and see exactly how I might come across to others when professing my faith. Only God knows whether I truly pass that test, but if I were to ask myself whether I pass or not, I would only say that one thing I never have called myself is a good Christian. I have called myself a believer; I have called myself broken, but never a good Christian.
Then I remembered Psalm 50, which we, as Orthodox Christians, are supposed to say with our morning prayers every day. "A sacrifice to God is a broken spirit: a heart that is broken and contrite God will not despise." No person on Earth knows more about how broken I am than I do. I know my sins, and always acknowledge them to myself, God, and my confessor (even if I don't admit them otherwise). It is one thing to call myself the first amongst sinners (sounds prideful, doesn't it?) but I am past that. I am broken. I don't have the wisdom to put myself together: only God can, and only Jesus will lead me to God to do so.
So why do so many people who think they are good Christians not remember Psalm 50? Is it the splintering of the churches? Is it so much focus on the New Testament that the Old Testament, especially Psalms, is ignored or forgotten? Is it pride? Is it the evil sweeping over the world manifesting itself in false worship; not of idols, mind you, but a worship that is not pleasing to God?
I do not know the answer to this, and if you do, you are a better person than I will ever be. However, for now, I will just have to be blessed with being broken, knowing God does not despise me for it. I will have to be content to be contrite of heart, even if I don't always show it to others. I will have to keep my resolve to turn over more to God and let Him handle things, because He knows what to do and I am no one to tell Him.
Most important, I think I will have to be happy that I am not a good Christian. It seems God smiles more on us broken ones.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Prayer Lessons.
Our parish is in the midst of some turmoil at the moment. I won't go into details as to the problems, but I will say that things are bad enough that we are saying nightly akathists for our parish. It is through this that I am learning more about the power of prayer.
We know we will only get results on God's time. In fact, we pray for Him to deliver us from our turmoil as He sees fit when He knows best. What I am learning more about, though, is how powerful prayer is in your community.
Not all of us can make it every night, and I am no exception; with a new job and a schedule that conflicts with the times, there are times when I am coming home from work when the akathist starts. That said, I go whenever I am not working, and it is amazing that even though I only see a handful of people there, it is always the same people who are there; the choir director, two regular parishioners, the church caretakers, and certain members of the choir are there every time I am. What has this taught me? It has taught me to learn to see who is more disciplined in prayer than I am (not counting a priest) and seek them out. It has taught me that these are the people who most likely remember me in prayer each day, as I do them. It is teaching me to be more comfortable in prayer, not only with these few people, but in general: it's not that prayer made me uncomfortable, but it did always make me, for lack of a better phrase, self-conscious. Am I praying correctly? Am I following "rules"? Am I offending anyone?
Yes, I am praying correctly, every time I invoke the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ. There aren't "rules" as much a disciplinary guidelines (giving a nod to "Captain Barbosa"). Finally, the only people who would be offended by my prayers are those in the dark.
So as I pray that our parish be delivered from it's current turmoil, I am grateful that I was privileged to be a part of it; by being present, by praying both alone and with members of my parish, and for the most enlightening lessons on the power of prayer I have ever received. I truly am blessed.
God bless all of you.
We know we will only get results on God's time. In fact, we pray for Him to deliver us from our turmoil as He sees fit when He knows best. What I am learning more about, though, is how powerful prayer is in your community.
Not all of us can make it every night, and I am no exception; with a new job and a schedule that conflicts with the times, there are times when I am coming home from work when the akathist starts. That said, I go whenever I am not working, and it is amazing that even though I only see a handful of people there, it is always the same people who are there; the choir director, two regular parishioners, the church caretakers, and certain members of the choir are there every time I am. What has this taught me? It has taught me to learn to see who is more disciplined in prayer than I am (not counting a priest) and seek them out. It has taught me that these are the people who most likely remember me in prayer each day, as I do them. It is teaching me to be more comfortable in prayer, not only with these few people, but in general: it's not that prayer made me uncomfortable, but it did always make me, for lack of a better phrase, self-conscious. Am I praying correctly? Am I following "rules"? Am I offending anyone?
Yes, I am praying correctly, every time I invoke the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ. There aren't "rules" as much a disciplinary guidelines (giving a nod to "Captain Barbosa"). Finally, the only people who would be offended by my prayers are those in the dark.
So as I pray that our parish be delivered from it's current turmoil, I am grateful that I was privileged to be a part of it; by being present, by praying both alone and with members of my parish, and for the most enlightening lessons on the power of prayer I have ever received. I truly am blessed.
God bless all of you.
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