Normally when I take to this blog, I keep it very spiritual. I certainly do comment about events in my life, especially if that event helps in my spiritual growth and understanding, and other times I do my best to sound a bit theological as if I knew what I was talking about. I would like to think, however, that I do very little talking about my life as it is (it truly is boring anyhow, more so since I started this) and more about my soul and my spirit. I may fail this time.
I have to admit that this calender year has been the most challenging to me in many, even as world events and forces beyond my control put me in some difficult circumstances from time to time. I think I can honestly say that the only other year that was as tough physically and spiritually for me as an adult was 2000, the year my mother died. The next year, 2001, was one mistake right after another for me. Sure, I had some fun and felt some relief, especially physically, but I made too many mistakes that year, and some of them still have ripple effects to this day.
It all started last year, December 16 in fact, when I severely dislocated my elbow with several other fractures to the arm. On December 24, I had surgery on that elbow, and spent the night in the hospital. I started physical therapy the week after I got the cast off of my arm, I still have yet to get back 50% of what a normal person can do with an arm. The good news is that if this were 1914 instead of 2014, I wouldn't even have THAT much use of the arm. Glory to God for All Things!
The last few weeks have been miserable also; I can not shake a sinus infection! For some reason, this thing is hanging on for what seems an eternity! Two weeks of antibiotics may be helping, but I sure have lost a lot of energy in this time. Worse, it has severely and negatively effected my daily prayers; I am worse than inattentive. I am lax! Everything is disrupted by this, even fasting, as I have not even attempted to fast yet.
I have not played guitar at all this year....at least not in the guitar player sense. I can barely hold a pick, and strumming is clunky and self muting. I really do want to play guitar again, but that is my will. I have thought that somewhere in all this, God has opened a door for me to walk through, but all I do lately is blindly bump into walls. Since I seem to be too busy playing spiritual human pinball instead of focusing on what I am supposed to learn here, I feel a darkness settling in that is rather unsettling. That can not be good, at least until I find that door.
Have there been bright moments? Sure. This past August, my favorite band that still has all of its original members alive and playing performed their first full length concert in over twenty years! Of course I went, and was very blessed to have met some great people, as well as the treatment by the band I was given that was quite humbling. There was a time there when many people thought that I was instrumental in the concert happening. I refuse that idea; the desire on the part of both the fans and the band was always there. All I did was ask permission to open my big mouth, and got it. From that act has flowed many, many blessings that I can never be grateful enough for.
I think I have also learned my place in the church. It is not on the altar at all. Yes, I was studying to be a deacon, but then the elbow interfered. I missed many classes, and the ones I did attend I could not take notes at, as well as the fact I could not get comfortable in the classroom. Now, I see my place in the choir, as the one thing I have done all of my life that makes me feel better than anything is singing. I can usually do it well, and I know it is a gift from God, a gift I have abused in the past, but I hope to have a few years ahead of me to make up for. So it might be very unlikely that I will ever help a priest on the altar again. Those lucky priests! Again, Glory to God for All Things!
As I reflect on the last twelve months, and as I look ahead (the doctor has said I need more surgery, and God be willing I will live to get it) I have to take time and reflect on some of our saints and what they have had to live through in their lives. Was the life of St Seraphim of Sarov any more difficult than mine? A man who was beaten, robbed, permanently disfigured, yet spent many nights in prayer regardless of his discomfort? What about St Xenia of St. Petersberg, who was a young widow that gave away all she had, save for a few clothes, and willingly spent many hours wandering the streets of the city at night, in the cold, wind and snow, praying and doing things to help others while always being scorned and ridiculed? What about St Maximos the Confessor, a man who had his tongue cut out so he could no longer preach and his hand cut off so he could no longer write? Do my sufferings even come close to that? Do they come close to any other saint in the Orthodox Church?
Perhaps I could write more often in this blog; writing IS why I started this. Maybe that is something I am supposed to be doing. My problem with that idea is the fear of leading anyone onto the wrong path. As I have acknowledged a year of mistakes, so must I acknowledge that I can still make them, and in some small ways this year, indeed I have. I could not bear the thought of giving someone a wrong instruction on the faith, or in anything else really, and that is why I try to keep this blog less instructional and more conversational. It is also why I write infrequently. In the words of Kris Kristofferson "So many wrong directions on that lonely way back home". I have walked some, and I do not want to lead anyone to them.
Looking ahead, I see struggles. Looking back, I see the struggles I have survived so far. Through it all, it has been the Love of God, manifested in His only Begotten Son, that has been the most constant source of hope through my life. All I can do is hope for the darkness I sense to be illuminated by every prayer of thanks I offer, should my offering be worthy. Somehow, I have a sense I need to work on making such offerings worthy.
Glory To God For All Things!
Friday, December 5, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Orthodoxy and the Internet
If this post stirs up controversy, good.
If it invites self-introspection, better.
If it gets me labeled names like "ecumenist" or "Ameridox", then I struck a nerve.
You see, I love the Orthodox faith, which is why I chose to join the Orthodox Church. I left the Roman Catholic Church, but not because I was disgusted with a sex abuse cover up. No, I left because I had serious doubts about a dogma called the Immaculate Conception. I questioned the doctrine for years before officially deciding to leave Rome and become Orthodox. I could not join a Western Protestant branch because of their refusal to acknowledge the importance of the Theotokos and the communion of the saints. I might have joined the Orthodox Church earlier if I had been shown the faith, but as it was, my first experience in any Orthodox Church was in Red Square in Moscow at St Basil's. I was so overwhelmed once inside that I knew I was home, but it still took me eight years of learning and praying to make the step to join.
Like any convert, I was full of zeal, and what better place to be zealous than the internet. A place where I could find like minded people and show just how dedicated I was to the faith and a place to share my new found knowledge.
Oops.
What I have seen recently online makes me so happy that there was no Facebook to participate in while I was a catechumen, for if there were, I might never have converted. There is no lack of triumphalism, nationalism, and even malice among those who are on such pages. One page recently had a man post a picture of a goat and ask is this was what America was trying to make Orthodoxy (it was apparently a story about bestiality). Many other pages love to mock the Roman Catholic Church with meme's of the Pope with some horrific sayings that show no love for their fellow man. Sure, I get it. Rome and the East have a theological chasm that is at least as wide as the Grand Canyon and twice as deep. No reunion is ever going to happen until Rome addresses and renounces its heresies, including the Immaculate Conception, the Filoque, Papal Supremacy, and other issues like proper communion, and many others. In this, the Orthodox Church is correct.
What about the Orthodox faithful, however? Why is it when Rome apologizes for a sin they committed against the East, many of the faithful, rather than accept the overture, point out other hurts caused by the Schism? Why are many Orthodox faithful gleeful about the scandals of the Roman Church when the Orthodox church has their own sins to attend to? In my opinion, do you know what the only difference between the sins of Rome and the sins of the Orthodox church is? Press coverage. Media outlets pick on Rome because the are an easy target. What might happen if the media decided to focus on the Orthodox church for its sins, however? How would the faithful have reacted if the OCA received the media scrutiny between 2002-2008 that Rome received for the priest sex abuse issue? I wish I could answer that question, but as it is, since the media did not cover it to the lengths that they do Rome, we will never know and I refuse to speculate.
As I answer many people who question my loyalty to the Orthodox Church, I left the Roman church, but I did not leave its adherents. I left Roman dogmas, I did not leave those who still hold them. I did this of my own choice, and I do not regret that choice at all. I know so many wonderful priests, all of whom have helped me in one way or another, and all of them, even in their firm rejection of Rome, never once showed ill will to anyone who was a Roman Catholic. With some of the posts I have read about Rome from Orthodox Christians, I question not only what they are being taught, but by whom.
This brings us to nationalism. Lately, I have seen many nationalist Orthodox who denounce the USA as trying to modernize the faith, and change it to America's liking. Many confuse the secular politics engulfing the USA and the fights over them with the idea that America is trying to change the faith and allow such ideas to enter the Holy Church. The saddest part is that nothing you say to them will change their minds, and even worse, their words show the hardness of heart I am trying to escape from by being Orthodox.
Another issue is should America have its own Patriarch. This past winter, I had a debate with several people who think that my statement that the USA is not ready for its own Patriarch was an attempt to keep jurisdictions divided and that I was un-American. Being un-American is nothing new for me, as I have been called worse names because of my tastes for ice hockey over any other sport, and a preference for the CFL (Canadian Football League) over the NFL. To be called that by Orthodox Christians, however, because I stated the idea that the USA is not ready for its own Patriarchate was a punch that caught me by surprise. In their own zeal, many of these people were showing that truly, it wasn't the USA they wanted to have their own Patriarch, but rather, their Patriarch presiding over the church in the USA. Further, those that did not show that zeal did not ask such probing questions like "Since Metropolitan Tikhon is Metropolitan of all North America and Canada, do you think Canada will be willing to be under the umbrella of the US Patriarchate?". The most popular answer to that question was "Who cares?". Obviously, we didn't discuss Mexico.
The more I think about it, the more I am certain to have been blessed with several of the priests I have had since my catechumate. Every one of them, to a man, has advised me to just pray for the unity of the Holy Churches and not worry about bureaucracy and politics. They have advised me to pray to have Jesus enter my heart and cleanse me of my sins. They have advised me to be faithful to Christ, His church, and to those in my community who need Christ as much as I do.
One piece of advise they didn't give me, however, was to leave those Facebook Orthodoxy pages. They didn't have to.
God Bless.
If it invites self-introspection, better.
If it gets me labeled names like "ecumenist" or "Ameridox", then I struck a nerve.
You see, I love the Orthodox faith, which is why I chose to join the Orthodox Church. I left the Roman Catholic Church, but not because I was disgusted with a sex abuse cover up. No, I left because I had serious doubts about a dogma called the Immaculate Conception. I questioned the doctrine for years before officially deciding to leave Rome and become Orthodox. I could not join a Western Protestant branch because of their refusal to acknowledge the importance of the Theotokos and the communion of the saints. I might have joined the Orthodox Church earlier if I had been shown the faith, but as it was, my first experience in any Orthodox Church was in Red Square in Moscow at St Basil's. I was so overwhelmed once inside that I knew I was home, but it still took me eight years of learning and praying to make the step to join.
Like any convert, I was full of zeal, and what better place to be zealous than the internet. A place where I could find like minded people and show just how dedicated I was to the faith and a place to share my new found knowledge.
Oops.
What I have seen recently online makes me so happy that there was no Facebook to participate in while I was a catechumen, for if there were, I might never have converted. There is no lack of triumphalism, nationalism, and even malice among those who are on such pages. One page recently had a man post a picture of a goat and ask is this was what America was trying to make Orthodoxy (it was apparently a story about bestiality). Many other pages love to mock the Roman Catholic Church with meme's of the Pope with some horrific sayings that show no love for their fellow man. Sure, I get it. Rome and the East have a theological chasm that is at least as wide as the Grand Canyon and twice as deep. No reunion is ever going to happen until Rome addresses and renounces its heresies, including the Immaculate Conception, the Filoque, Papal Supremacy, and other issues like proper communion, and many others. In this, the Orthodox Church is correct.
What about the Orthodox faithful, however? Why is it when Rome apologizes for a sin they committed against the East, many of the faithful, rather than accept the overture, point out other hurts caused by the Schism? Why are many Orthodox faithful gleeful about the scandals of the Roman Church when the Orthodox church has their own sins to attend to? In my opinion, do you know what the only difference between the sins of Rome and the sins of the Orthodox church is? Press coverage. Media outlets pick on Rome because the are an easy target. What might happen if the media decided to focus on the Orthodox church for its sins, however? How would the faithful have reacted if the OCA received the media scrutiny between 2002-2008 that Rome received for the priest sex abuse issue? I wish I could answer that question, but as it is, since the media did not cover it to the lengths that they do Rome, we will never know and I refuse to speculate.
As I answer many people who question my loyalty to the Orthodox Church, I left the Roman church, but I did not leave its adherents. I left Roman dogmas, I did not leave those who still hold them. I did this of my own choice, and I do not regret that choice at all. I know so many wonderful priests, all of whom have helped me in one way or another, and all of them, even in their firm rejection of Rome, never once showed ill will to anyone who was a Roman Catholic. With some of the posts I have read about Rome from Orthodox Christians, I question not only what they are being taught, but by whom.
This brings us to nationalism. Lately, I have seen many nationalist Orthodox who denounce the USA as trying to modernize the faith, and change it to America's liking. Many confuse the secular politics engulfing the USA and the fights over them with the idea that America is trying to change the faith and allow such ideas to enter the Holy Church. The saddest part is that nothing you say to them will change their minds, and even worse, their words show the hardness of heart I am trying to escape from by being Orthodox.
Another issue is should America have its own Patriarch. This past winter, I had a debate with several people who think that my statement that the USA is not ready for its own Patriarch was an attempt to keep jurisdictions divided and that I was un-American. Being un-American is nothing new for me, as I have been called worse names because of my tastes for ice hockey over any other sport, and a preference for the CFL (Canadian Football League) over the NFL. To be called that by Orthodox Christians, however, because I stated the idea that the USA is not ready for its own Patriarchate was a punch that caught me by surprise. In their own zeal, many of these people were showing that truly, it wasn't the USA they wanted to have their own Patriarch, but rather, their Patriarch presiding over the church in the USA. Further, those that did not show that zeal did not ask such probing questions like "Since Metropolitan Tikhon is Metropolitan of all North America and Canada, do you think Canada will be willing to be under the umbrella of the US Patriarchate?". The most popular answer to that question was "Who cares?". Obviously, we didn't discuss Mexico.
The more I think about it, the more I am certain to have been blessed with several of the priests I have had since my catechumate. Every one of them, to a man, has advised me to just pray for the unity of the Holy Churches and not worry about bureaucracy and politics. They have advised me to pray to have Jesus enter my heart and cleanse me of my sins. They have advised me to be faithful to Christ, His church, and to those in my community who need Christ as much as I do.
One piece of advise they didn't give me, however, was to leave those Facebook Orthodoxy pages. They didn't have to.
God Bless.
Monday, February 10, 2014
In Response to "Why I Can't Pray to the New Martyrs"
Link to article I respond to: http://www.pravmir.com/cant-pray-new-martyrs/
I am going to start this entry with a few statements which need to be remembered as this is read. I do not wish to attack the author of the article that prompts this response, for we all have levels of comfort for who we feel we can pray to and who we can not. For example, I have a very difficult time praying to any of the patristic fathers, as I am so uneducated and indeed am almost anti-formal education, as I feel my desire to liaise with them would fall far short of what is expected of me in terms of knowledge of the faith and their teachings as well. I also have a hard time praying to any saint who I deem controversial in this day, so Blessed Seraphim Rose makes me very uncomfortable to talk to. I find it much easier to pray through saints who may not have had much knowledge, but had experienced God in ways unfathomable to both many believers and unbelievers alike. These Saints include St Mary of Egypt, St Xenia of St Petersburg, and even with his better education, St Seraphim of Sarov. However, none of these saints can truly be considered martyrs.
If you have read my blog in the past, or know me personally, then you are very well aware of my closeness to one of the New Martyrs; in fact, he may be called the FIRST new martyr, and indeed is described as the First Hieromartyr of the Bloshevik Yoke, St John Kochurov. I feel indeed that, without my knowledge and with skillful prayer, he guided me back to the Orthodox Church when I had never attended one until I was in my late 30's. When you read the history of his work in Chicago, with his work in bringing Roman Catholics back to the Orthodox Church, I feel he was always at work on me to bring me where I belonged. I certainly can not prove this empirically, but I do remember, just before I was admitted to the Orthodox Church in August 2010, praying through my patron, St Lawrence of Rome (also a martyr, by the way), to guide me to a saint with connections to North America that would protect me and whose life I could be inspired by. There was no hesitancy in the answer I received; St John of Chicago. Being a lifelong Chicago Cubs fan myself seemed to "seal the deal" as it were, for until this prayer was answered for me, I never had known anything about him.
One point the author mentions in his article is quite accurate and can not be countered; that is a martyr is always alone leaving nothing behind behind for disciples (St John Kochurov, however, did oversee the construction of a cathedral in Chicago that is still used to this day, so that isn't always the case, though to find writings of his is near impossible). What the author may fail to realize, however, is that as we walk this spectral existence, in many instances, many of us do indeed walk without the benefit of our fellow man, having only God as our strength to carry on when those who do not trust in Him may well have given up. As a young man, I had few acquaintances, less friends, and was constantly picked on for being different than many in my school and my age. God never did this to me, though. God was always there for me, even after many times I wasn't there for Him. Christ's arms were always open to me. He understood. He understands. He always will, for who else in history truly changed the entire world, alone, but Him?
To walk this world alone requires a courage that many will see as an eccentricity. I didn't always like the same music as my peers, or the same sports as my fellow classmates. In fact, I was always more interested in religion and faith than I was math and science. Those interests are hard for an academic to deal with when their job is to guide me to academia. It is even more difficult for a young person whose family does not share that same interest in God, the faith, and spirituality. It is difficult for a teenager to go to church, even thirty years ago, but it is even more difficult for that teenager to attend services alone without the presence of his or her parents and siblings. Yet, this is exactly what I did. If it were not for the best friend I had growing up and his family, there is a good chance I would NEVER have gone to church at all.
As the culture is changing in the USA now, Christians are being marginalized at best, and softly persecuted now at worst (try being a service worker and telling a prospective employer you need Sunday mornings off for services, for unless you are applying to Hobby Lobby or Chic-Fil-A, you have almost no chance of getting hired). Your peers will tell you not to say these things (even some who profess the faith) and get the job first, or even tell you to give up services. If we make that choice, are we truly witnessing to the faith? Are we truly living the faith? Are we trusting God in the manner we should?. Forgive me for being judgemental, but to me, the answer is a resounding NO. I can bear witness to this trust; every time I have refused a job that will not allow me my religious freedom as guaranteed by the US Constitution, God has guided me elsewhere and I have found everything I need. Those times in between are indeed difficult, but why does God provide for me, someone who is so wretched that I deserve nothing from Him other than a good scolding?
Some Americans believe that the persecution of Christians is coming to America in a manner similar to what happened under the Bolsheviks and is currently happening in the Middle East. The signs are there that it is indeed possible, and the hostility towards Christians is indeed growing in the USA. It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future, but if history is any indicator, it is indeed on its way. What is one of the first things that you do to someone who you want to punish, or persecute, or bully? You isolate them. You make them feel like they are alone. You make them feel like no one else cares about them, that they are a waste of oxygen, and that they should just disappear. Are Christians going to be treated any different if persecution comes to pass in the USA? No, they won't. They won't have jobs, they won't have defenders, and they won't have protections. They will be taken from family and friends, they will be isolated, and they will be made to despair so that they will, hopefully, eventually conform to the state. If you don't believe me, read a book called "The Gulag Archipelago".
Again, I wish not to criticise the author of the article I respond to. I only wish to respond why I find such comfort in the martyrs. You see, a common misconception about martyrdom is that to be a martyr, we die for the faith. On the contrary, martyrdom is not dying for the faith, but bearing witness to it, and if need be, bearing it alone when nobody around you cares enough about you to stand up for your God-given right to live and worship Him. I don't want to die like a martyr; like the author of the article, I hope to die of old age surrounded by people who love me. I have no fear, however, of living like one, for God, Christ, His Saints, and ALL the martyrs of the faith, are there praying for me and working on my behalf to insure my spectral needs are met. I need nothing, and no one, else in this struggle.
I am going to start this entry with a few statements which need to be remembered as this is read. I do not wish to attack the author of the article that prompts this response, for we all have levels of comfort for who we feel we can pray to and who we can not. For example, I have a very difficult time praying to any of the patristic fathers, as I am so uneducated and indeed am almost anti-formal education, as I feel my desire to liaise with them would fall far short of what is expected of me in terms of knowledge of the faith and their teachings as well. I also have a hard time praying to any saint who I deem controversial in this day, so Blessed Seraphim Rose makes me very uncomfortable to talk to. I find it much easier to pray through saints who may not have had much knowledge, but had experienced God in ways unfathomable to both many believers and unbelievers alike. These Saints include St Mary of Egypt, St Xenia of St Petersburg, and even with his better education, St Seraphim of Sarov. However, none of these saints can truly be considered martyrs.
If you have read my blog in the past, or know me personally, then you are very well aware of my closeness to one of the New Martyrs; in fact, he may be called the FIRST new martyr, and indeed is described as the First Hieromartyr of the Bloshevik Yoke, St John Kochurov. I feel indeed that, without my knowledge and with skillful prayer, he guided me back to the Orthodox Church when I had never attended one until I was in my late 30's. When you read the history of his work in Chicago, with his work in bringing Roman Catholics back to the Orthodox Church, I feel he was always at work on me to bring me where I belonged. I certainly can not prove this empirically, but I do remember, just before I was admitted to the Orthodox Church in August 2010, praying through my patron, St Lawrence of Rome (also a martyr, by the way), to guide me to a saint with connections to North America that would protect me and whose life I could be inspired by. There was no hesitancy in the answer I received; St John of Chicago. Being a lifelong Chicago Cubs fan myself seemed to "seal the deal" as it were, for until this prayer was answered for me, I never had known anything about him.
One point the author mentions in his article is quite accurate and can not be countered; that is a martyr is always alone leaving nothing behind behind for disciples (St John Kochurov, however, did oversee the construction of a cathedral in Chicago that is still used to this day, so that isn't always the case, though to find writings of his is near impossible). What the author may fail to realize, however, is that as we walk this spectral existence, in many instances, many of us do indeed walk without the benefit of our fellow man, having only God as our strength to carry on when those who do not trust in Him may well have given up. As a young man, I had few acquaintances, less friends, and was constantly picked on for being different than many in my school and my age. God never did this to me, though. God was always there for me, even after many times I wasn't there for Him. Christ's arms were always open to me. He understood. He understands. He always will, for who else in history truly changed the entire world, alone, but Him?
To walk this world alone requires a courage that many will see as an eccentricity. I didn't always like the same music as my peers, or the same sports as my fellow classmates. In fact, I was always more interested in religion and faith than I was math and science. Those interests are hard for an academic to deal with when their job is to guide me to academia. It is even more difficult for a young person whose family does not share that same interest in God, the faith, and spirituality. It is difficult for a teenager to go to church, even thirty years ago, but it is even more difficult for that teenager to attend services alone without the presence of his or her parents and siblings. Yet, this is exactly what I did. If it were not for the best friend I had growing up and his family, there is a good chance I would NEVER have gone to church at all.
As the culture is changing in the USA now, Christians are being marginalized at best, and softly persecuted now at worst (try being a service worker and telling a prospective employer you need Sunday mornings off for services, for unless you are applying to Hobby Lobby or Chic-Fil-A, you have almost no chance of getting hired). Your peers will tell you not to say these things (even some who profess the faith) and get the job first, or even tell you to give up services. If we make that choice, are we truly witnessing to the faith? Are we truly living the faith? Are we trusting God in the manner we should?. Forgive me for being judgemental, but to me, the answer is a resounding NO. I can bear witness to this trust; every time I have refused a job that will not allow me my religious freedom as guaranteed by the US Constitution, God has guided me elsewhere and I have found everything I need. Those times in between are indeed difficult, but why does God provide for me, someone who is so wretched that I deserve nothing from Him other than a good scolding?
Some Americans believe that the persecution of Christians is coming to America in a manner similar to what happened under the Bolsheviks and is currently happening in the Middle East. The signs are there that it is indeed possible, and the hostility towards Christians is indeed growing in the USA. It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future, but if history is any indicator, it is indeed on its way. What is one of the first things that you do to someone who you want to punish, or persecute, or bully? You isolate them. You make them feel like they are alone. You make them feel like no one else cares about them, that they are a waste of oxygen, and that they should just disappear. Are Christians going to be treated any different if persecution comes to pass in the USA? No, they won't. They won't have jobs, they won't have defenders, and they won't have protections. They will be taken from family and friends, they will be isolated, and they will be made to despair so that they will, hopefully, eventually conform to the state. If you don't believe me, read a book called "The Gulag Archipelago".
Again, I wish not to criticise the author of the article I respond to. I only wish to respond why I find such comfort in the martyrs. You see, a common misconception about martyrdom is that to be a martyr, we die for the faith. On the contrary, martyrdom is not dying for the faith, but bearing witness to it, and if need be, bearing it alone when nobody around you cares enough about you to stand up for your God-given right to live and worship Him. I don't want to die like a martyr; like the author of the article, I hope to die of old age surrounded by people who love me. I have no fear, however, of living like one, for God, Christ, His Saints, and ALL the martyrs of the faith, are there praying for me and working on my behalf to insure my spectral needs are met. I need nothing, and no one, else in this struggle.
Friday, September 20, 2013
How Dare I.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my sinful and wretched soul.
How dare I ask for forgiveness when I have slain the souls of those who try to love me and guide me to Your loving light, instead exhalting those who share in my sinful ways.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgivenss for my countless and repeated transgressions.
How dare I ask for mercy when I know nothing of giving mercy to those who love me and whose trangression against me is a minor incovenience,, instead being merciful to those to whom mercy means nothing, and will use it for evil purposes.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my prideful boasting.
How dare I ask for Your love when my prideful and sinful nature neglects the Glory You shared with me for what little benefit I have given this world, and instead pretend that it is I, and not You, who accomplished what I claim to have done.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness, for my neglectful and careless manner of prayer.
How dare I ask that You bestow upon me that which I wish when I have not only failed to give thanks for but have further abused and destroyed the gifts You entrusted me with.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness and how dare I lift up my eyes to Heaven.
How dare I look up to Heaven as a destination to which I plan to go when I fail to keep Holy and instead defile myself with that which saddens You.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my insolence and lack of consideration of my brothers and sisters.
How dare I think myself a humble servant when I go about insulting others, thinking myself clever, instead of edifying their hearts with the love I so undeservedly have received from You.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my Pharisaical habits.
How dare I ask for mercy when I look down upon my brothers and sisters for their sins and affronts when mine are greater in number and scope, and when mine have inflicted greater damage to others than has been done to me.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness again and again.
How dare I keep breaking my promise to You, O Lord, whose mercies and kindness are limitless, who are patient and long suffering, when in me I can find no mercy, kindness, or patience.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for what has come out of my mouth.
How dare I ask for mercy from the lips I use to hurt others, to spread that which is not of Your goodness, and which have told countless lies as if they are a child's fable.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
How dare I ask for forgiveness when I have slain the souls of those who try to love me and guide me to Your loving light, instead exhalting those who share in my sinful ways.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgivenss for my countless and repeated transgressions.
How dare I ask for mercy when I know nothing of giving mercy to those who love me and whose trangression against me is a minor incovenience,, instead being merciful to those to whom mercy means nothing, and will use it for evil purposes.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my prideful boasting.
How dare I ask for Your love when my prideful and sinful nature neglects the Glory You shared with me for what little benefit I have given this world, and instead pretend that it is I, and not You, who accomplished what I claim to have done.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness, for my neglectful and careless manner of prayer.
How dare I ask that You bestow upon me that which I wish when I have not only failed to give thanks for but have further abused and destroyed the gifts You entrusted me with.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness and how dare I lift up my eyes to Heaven.
How dare I look up to Heaven as a destination to which I plan to go when I fail to keep Holy and instead defile myself with that which saddens You.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my insolence and lack of consideration of my brothers and sisters.
How dare I think myself a humble servant when I go about insulting others, thinking myself clever, instead of edifying their hearts with the love I so undeservedly have received from You.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for my Pharisaical habits.
How dare I ask for mercy when I look down upon my brothers and sisters for their sins and affronts when mine are greater in number and scope, and when mine have inflicted greater damage to others than has been done to me.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness again and again.
How dare I keep breaking my promise to You, O Lord, whose mercies and kindness are limitless, who are patient and long suffering, when in me I can find no mercy, kindness, or patience.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness for what has come out of my mouth.
How dare I ask for mercy from the lips I use to hurt others, to spread that which is not of Your goodness, and which have told countless lies as if they are a child's fable.
How dare I, O Lord, how dare I ask for Your forgiveness.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Nearer my God......not.
Life certainly has a sadly funny way of trying to keep us from God. Whether it is because we sleep late and do not say our morning prayers, thereby neglecting our souls during the day, or being so tired we neglect our prayers at night, thereby neglecting our soul's ability to rest, and everything in between, it is so easy to neglect all that God has done for us and does for us always.
If we are Americans, we see our religious freedoms being tested more and more every day, and instead of praying to God, we fight our persecutors.
In the Middle East, our Brothers and Sisters in Christ fear for their lives daily.
That is just politics..
We no longer trust a beggar who seeks assistance, though I must admit it is hard to feel bad for someone begging for money when they wear a pair of sneakers that costs more than my food bill for two weeks. Again, life keeping me from God.
We take for granted those who love us, and seek approval from those who take us for granted. I should learn to love those who take me for granted regardless of their love, or lack thereof, for me. I should also never take for granted those who love me regardless of my failures.
I have been told I am now under grace, yet get chastised for not living to the letter of the law. All I wanted to do was have an image of a saint on my computer to focus on.
I don't know what hurts me more; knowing that I have to do better, or knowing that I can and am not doing so.
Pray for me please, if you can, and if you will.
If we are Americans, we see our religious freedoms being tested more and more every day, and instead of praying to God, we fight our persecutors.
In the Middle East, our Brothers and Sisters in Christ fear for their lives daily.
That is just politics..
We no longer trust a beggar who seeks assistance, though I must admit it is hard to feel bad for someone begging for money when they wear a pair of sneakers that costs more than my food bill for two weeks. Again, life keeping me from God.
We take for granted those who love us, and seek approval from those who take us for granted. I should learn to love those who take me for granted regardless of their love, or lack thereof, for me. I should also never take for granted those who love me regardless of my failures.
I have been told I am now under grace, yet get chastised for not living to the letter of the law. All I wanted to do was have an image of a saint on my computer to focus on.
I don't know what hurts me more; knowing that I have to do better, or knowing that I can and am not doing so.
Pray for me please, if you can, and if you will.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Our Pagan Fight
Here we go again. All we are hearing now with Western Easter approaching this weekend (though Pascha is May 5) is how Easter is a "pagan" celebration "stolen" by the Christians. We are hearing about Ishtar and Eoster and how it REALLY is a pagan festival for a fertility goddess. All this makes me question now not what those who attack Christianity are doing, but what are we, who are called to defend it, are doing.
Now apologetics is not for everyone, and even for those who enjoy it on occasion, it can be rather tiresome. This explains how we are losing on at least one front: attrition. Like a pack of wolves hunting their prey, they nip at our heels, chase us for hours, and tire us out just before killing us. I think this is why Christ called on us to endure to the end and said those that do will be saved (Matthew 24:13). He also warned us that He was sending us out as sheep in the midst of wolves (Matthew 10:16). We should be ready for this, but sadly, I am thinking many of us are not (myself included: I am already tired of the attacks this year).
We hear constantly about how Easter Eggs are a tribute to a pagan god. When was the last time any of us recounted the visit of Mary Magdalene visiting the Emperor Tiberius and proclaiming "Christ is Risen!"? Do we even know the tradition of this? When confronted with Mary Magdalene's exclamation, Tiberius replied "A man can rise from the dead no more than the egg in your hand can turn red!" It was then that the egg in Mary Magdalene's hand turned red. This is why, in many icons of her, she is pictured holding a red egg in her hand. Forgetting this tradition and the reason behind it only opens a door to those who wish to defeat Christ.
We hear about Easter Bunnies, Chocolate, and other candies given to children as further evidence of pagan ancestry and homage. A question I can not answer is when did the church allow it IN the church? I have seen Easter Baskets at Pascha that have much food, but have never seen the chocolate bunnies in them. I have seen the red eggs, and Cheese Pascha, and meat, but no chocolate bunnies.
Those who scoff at us know we do not have adequate knowledge of our faith, and they have seen to it that it stays that way. This is why we always hear about Christianity "stealing" from the pagans to get them to convert. I say different; I say their traditions were part of the culture they grew up in, and did not bring into the church at all; they kept the church and the culture separate. At best, the church did not object to such a practice out of mercy and economia, and at worst, perhaps they have not reminded us of what these practices can mean to someone else who has no desire to follow Christ.
I do not have the answers for all of this. I can only argue with people about paganism and the resurrection so much before my own sins start bearing bad fruit (that notorious temper of mine!). The only conclusion I can draw comes not from scripture or tradition, but an answer to a question "Why did this happen?". Alexandr Solzhenitsyn gave a very simple answer to why the Soviet atrocities happened, and I can only see the truth in his words applied to the question of the Resurrection and the idea that it is pagan in origin. He answered "Because Men have forgotten God: that is why all this happened".
Let us not forget and put more effort to remembering.
Now apologetics is not for everyone, and even for those who enjoy it on occasion, it can be rather tiresome. This explains how we are losing on at least one front: attrition. Like a pack of wolves hunting their prey, they nip at our heels, chase us for hours, and tire us out just before killing us. I think this is why Christ called on us to endure to the end and said those that do will be saved (Matthew 24:13). He also warned us that He was sending us out as sheep in the midst of wolves (Matthew 10:16). We should be ready for this, but sadly, I am thinking many of us are not (myself included: I am already tired of the attacks this year).
We hear constantly about how Easter Eggs are a tribute to a pagan god. When was the last time any of us recounted the visit of Mary Magdalene visiting the Emperor Tiberius and proclaiming "Christ is Risen!"? Do we even know the tradition of this? When confronted with Mary Magdalene's exclamation, Tiberius replied "A man can rise from the dead no more than the egg in your hand can turn red!" It was then that the egg in Mary Magdalene's hand turned red. This is why, in many icons of her, she is pictured holding a red egg in her hand. Forgetting this tradition and the reason behind it only opens a door to those who wish to defeat Christ.
We hear about Easter Bunnies, Chocolate, and other candies given to children as further evidence of pagan ancestry and homage. A question I can not answer is when did the church allow it IN the church? I have seen Easter Baskets at Pascha that have much food, but have never seen the chocolate bunnies in them. I have seen the red eggs, and Cheese Pascha, and meat, but no chocolate bunnies.
Those who scoff at us know we do not have adequate knowledge of our faith, and they have seen to it that it stays that way. This is why we always hear about Christianity "stealing" from the pagans to get them to convert. I say different; I say their traditions were part of the culture they grew up in, and did not bring into the church at all; they kept the church and the culture separate. At best, the church did not object to such a practice out of mercy and economia, and at worst, perhaps they have not reminded us of what these practices can mean to someone else who has no desire to follow Christ.
I do not have the answers for all of this. I can only argue with people about paganism and the resurrection so much before my own sins start bearing bad fruit (that notorious temper of mine!). The only conclusion I can draw comes not from scripture or tradition, but an answer to a question "Why did this happen?". Alexandr Solzhenitsyn gave a very simple answer to why the Soviet atrocities happened, and I can only see the truth in his words applied to the question of the Resurrection and the idea that it is pagan in origin. He answered "Because Men have forgotten God: that is why all this happened".
Let us not forget and put more effort to remembering.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Evening Bells
There is an old song by the Irish poet/singer Thomas Moore called "Those Evening Bells" that tells of a melancholy yearning for ones youth and how the chiming of those bells brings back the memory of happier times, and how when one is in the grave, you will never hear them again. A Russian translation (phonetically translated "Vechernii Zvon") is a well known folk song; not a Russian person I have ever met has been unable to sing it. I have been thinking of this song and how it affects me and my path on Orthodoxy lately.
I have been out of a major city for almost two months now. Being a country boy at heart, I find the city life rather draining and hostile to my spirit. There, I hear many more trains, trucks, loud music and other distractions, but it wasn't until I was out of the city and in the small town I currently am in before I realized that there had been something else missing in my life; church bells.
Where I currently am, I can hear the bells of a neighborhood church ring out three times a day; at 8:00 am, at noon, and at 6:00 pm every day. This does not include other churches, including the Orthodox Church I currently attend, ringing the bells to signal the start of the service. While I noticed how those bells rang out almost immediately, I had never understood how they were lacking in a big city nowadays until just a few days ago; in fact, the parish I attend in the city does not even have a bell to ring right now.
When I hear these bells every day now, I find myself giving a little prayer of thanks to God every time. Not only have I found a peace and quiet that one can rarely find in a big city, but the lack of those bells had an effect on me I never understood; I didn't even realize I missed them. I do not know whether the daily bells are meant to be a call to prayer, but I think that the fact they they do call me to a little prayer of thanks now can only be helpful in my stumbling, as I find that every little prayer I say, even just a quip of "Thank you, Jesus" brings me closer to where I want my soul to be.
Perhaps, also, these bells remind me of my Earthly mortality. I honestly have not thought about that aspect yet, as I have been too busy enjoying the sound of church bells again to worry about such a matter. Even if they do on a subconscious level, I am not preoccupied with that eventual happening. I am not even thinking of my childhood when I hear them (as a child I was so far out in the country that I never heard church bells unless I went to the village, so I made a point of being in the village at the time they rang out quite often). What I am thinking of is the silence time away from the city brings; how silence, a devotional gift from God, allows the Holy Spirit to penetrate your thoughts if you allow it to do so. I also think of a simpler, less hurried, more joyful existence and the way this existence allows me more ease of devotion and prayer, of spirtual reading, and even more importantly, how God works in that silence because we don't static Him out.
While I feel my soul more at ease at the moment, I know I need to guard myself from complacency, and perhaps those bells can help. Not only can they remind me to pray, but because they emanate from God's house, they can remind me how ever present He truly is, everywhere, at all times. I can't say they stop my sinning, but I do reflect on the damage those sins I commit have done more now than I did just a few short weeks ago. Let those morning, noon, and evening bells ring, and let them remind me how He truly blesses me, and how much I owe Him, and how much I need Him. As dense as I can be, I need all the reminders of God I can get.
God Bless.
I have been out of a major city for almost two months now. Being a country boy at heart, I find the city life rather draining and hostile to my spirit. There, I hear many more trains, trucks, loud music and other distractions, but it wasn't until I was out of the city and in the small town I currently am in before I realized that there had been something else missing in my life; church bells.
Where I currently am, I can hear the bells of a neighborhood church ring out three times a day; at 8:00 am, at noon, and at 6:00 pm every day. This does not include other churches, including the Orthodox Church I currently attend, ringing the bells to signal the start of the service. While I noticed how those bells rang out almost immediately, I had never understood how they were lacking in a big city nowadays until just a few days ago; in fact, the parish I attend in the city does not even have a bell to ring right now.
When I hear these bells every day now, I find myself giving a little prayer of thanks to God every time. Not only have I found a peace and quiet that one can rarely find in a big city, but the lack of those bells had an effect on me I never understood; I didn't even realize I missed them. I do not know whether the daily bells are meant to be a call to prayer, but I think that the fact they they do call me to a little prayer of thanks now can only be helpful in my stumbling, as I find that every little prayer I say, even just a quip of "Thank you, Jesus" brings me closer to where I want my soul to be.
Perhaps, also, these bells remind me of my Earthly mortality. I honestly have not thought about that aspect yet, as I have been too busy enjoying the sound of church bells again to worry about such a matter. Even if they do on a subconscious level, I am not preoccupied with that eventual happening. I am not even thinking of my childhood when I hear them (as a child I was so far out in the country that I never heard church bells unless I went to the village, so I made a point of being in the village at the time they rang out quite often). What I am thinking of is the silence time away from the city brings; how silence, a devotional gift from God, allows the Holy Spirit to penetrate your thoughts if you allow it to do so. I also think of a simpler, less hurried, more joyful existence and the way this existence allows me more ease of devotion and prayer, of spirtual reading, and even more importantly, how God works in that silence because we don't static Him out.
While I feel my soul more at ease at the moment, I know I need to guard myself from complacency, and perhaps those bells can help. Not only can they remind me to pray, but because they emanate from God's house, they can remind me how ever present He truly is, everywhere, at all times. I can't say they stop my sinning, but I do reflect on the damage those sins I commit have done more now than I did just a few short weeks ago. Let those morning, noon, and evening bells ring, and let them remind me how He truly blesses me, and how much I owe Him, and how much I need Him. As dense as I can be, I need all the reminders of God I can get.
God Bless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)