Standing at my first Baptist church and with
Bp. MARK this past weekend.
10/2/07
9/30/07
This Sunday's Homily...
It was said that in his youth a man named John who lived on Cyprus had a dream in which a beautiful maiden named Compassion appeared to him and told him she was the eldest daughter of God.
As John grew, then married and had a family, the dream never left his mind. When he became a widower and then an ascetic it stayed with him. As popular acclaim required he serve as the Patriarch of Alexandria that dream followed him to his palace. And as Patriarch he made it his mission to give to many, to all, to people he did not know, and people far and wide, and by generosity express compassion and so serve God.
These acts were not always met with approval. The Church in Alexandria in the early 600’s was wealthy, prominent, and there were those who would keep the wealth intact. But Patriarch John understood something greater than the economy of those times, and ours as well, an economy based on acquiring and storing for ourselves. John understood that in God’s economy what was given away, what was shared, was what came back to you and that the glory of the Church was when she lived not for herself but for God and those outside her walls. It was that attitude that made John notable in his life, acclaimed in his service, and eventually glorified by the church where he is now known as St. John the Merciful.
And it’s this attitude that’s found in our Epistle and Gospel readings today. Our Orthodox faith teaches us that we truly own nothing in this world. All that we acquire in our time here is given to us by God, the source of all good things, and we are required to hold it in trust and use it for the glory of God and the benefit of all. At the end of time we will be asked to give an accounting of what we have been given and the basis of that accounting will not be in how much we acquired by how much we have shared.
We Orthodox often use the hammer of “tradition” against each other, arguing about what kind of music we have, what language we speak, how the Priest served, what kind of food we need to make, a million things we all think are tradition. But the truth is if you want to know the heart of Orthodoxy none of those things matter in any particular way at all. Jesus himself said it best we he urged those follow him to love God with all their heart and soul and mind and love their neighbor as themselves.
If you love God in this way, you will trust him for all your needs. If you love your neighbor this way you will understand that you find your own true life in living for others and all that you have, all that you are exists for the benefit of all. If you understand this you will have mastered the tradition of our faith in a way that people obsessed with rubrics and cultures and liturgics and who does what and who has the power will never know. Whatever they may gain they gain for only a short while but those whose lives sow bountifully into the lives of others for the sake of the love of God hold on to their treasures for all time.
It is said of St. John the Merciful that he commanded his coffin to be made but left unfinished and his grave to be partially dug. At various times during the year he instructed those in charge of making coffins and digging graves to approach him and say “Master, shall we complete the preparations for your death…?” In this way St. John reminded himself of what things truly matter in this life.
Perhaps something like that would be good for us as well. We should ponder our end not as some kind of exercise in morbid introspection but rather as a way to give our lives focus and meaning. The Psalmist asked of God, “Teach us to number our days so that we can increase in wisdom” and another has said “The shortness of life underscores the value of giving ourselves to the right things.”
If we did we would soon come to realize that we truly own nothing in this world, even the clothes they bury us in will one day turn to mulch. We would understand that everything we think we possess, including this church, is not our own and what matters is not what we hold close to ourselves but what we give away. And perhaps the most remarkable thing is that as we draw nearer to understanding this we become more free from the tyranny of life, more alive, more whole, more real, and more focused on the things that last. And we begin to know what it is to have eternal life.
As John grew, then married and had a family, the dream never left his mind. When he became a widower and then an ascetic it stayed with him. As popular acclaim required he serve as the Patriarch of Alexandria that dream followed him to his palace. And as Patriarch he made it his mission to give to many, to all, to people he did not know, and people far and wide, and by generosity express compassion and so serve God.
These acts were not always met with approval. The Church in Alexandria in the early 600’s was wealthy, prominent, and there were those who would keep the wealth intact. But Patriarch John understood something greater than the economy of those times, and ours as well, an economy based on acquiring and storing for ourselves. John understood that in God’s economy what was given away, what was shared, was what came back to you and that the glory of the Church was when she lived not for herself but for God and those outside her walls. It was that attitude that made John notable in his life, acclaimed in his service, and eventually glorified by the church where he is now known as St. John the Merciful.
And it’s this attitude that’s found in our Epistle and Gospel readings today. Our Orthodox faith teaches us that we truly own nothing in this world. All that we acquire in our time here is given to us by God, the source of all good things, and we are required to hold it in trust and use it for the glory of God and the benefit of all. At the end of time we will be asked to give an accounting of what we have been given and the basis of that accounting will not be in how much we acquired by how much we have shared.
We Orthodox often use the hammer of “tradition” against each other, arguing about what kind of music we have, what language we speak, how the Priest served, what kind of food we need to make, a million things we all think are tradition. But the truth is if you want to know the heart of Orthodoxy none of those things matter in any particular way at all. Jesus himself said it best we he urged those follow him to love God with all their heart and soul and mind and love their neighbor as themselves.
If you love God in this way, you will trust him for all your needs. If you love your neighbor this way you will understand that you find your own true life in living for others and all that you have, all that you are exists for the benefit of all. If you understand this you will have mastered the tradition of our faith in a way that people obsessed with rubrics and cultures and liturgics and who does what and who has the power will never know. Whatever they may gain they gain for only a short while but those whose lives sow bountifully into the lives of others for the sake of the love of God hold on to their treasures for all time.
It is said of St. John the Merciful that he commanded his coffin to be made but left unfinished and his grave to be partially dug. At various times during the year he instructed those in charge of making coffins and digging graves to approach him and say “Master, shall we complete the preparations for your death…?” In this way St. John reminded himself of what things truly matter in this life.
Perhaps something like that would be good for us as well. We should ponder our end not as some kind of exercise in morbid introspection but rather as a way to give our lives focus and meaning. The Psalmist asked of God, “Teach us to number our days so that we can increase in wisdom” and another has said “The shortness of life underscores the value of giving ourselves to the right things.”
If we did we would soon come to realize that we truly own nothing in this world, even the clothes they bury us in will one day turn to mulch. We would understand that everything we think we possess, including this church, is not our own and what matters is not what we hold close to ourselves but what we give away. And perhaps the most remarkable thing is that as we draw nearer to understanding this we become more free from the tyranny of life, more alive, more whole, more real, and more focused on the things that last. And we begin to know what it is to have eternal life.
It's Sunday Night in Minnesota...
It's Sunday night back at home in Minnesota. Vacation is done, work awaits in the morning. Some weeks ago the plans were ambitious, a trip to Seattle to get in a baseball game or maybe a flight to New Mexico to view archaeological sites. A hard month of work and the preparation for our Bishop's visit took that all off the table. We settled for a trip to Bemidji, Minnesota and followed the fall colors to Marquette, Michigan on the Upper Peninsula.
Even on vacation I enjoy driving, miles under the wheels and simply seeing things I've never seen before. Planes are faster but cars are more real, what you see from the air as little squares of ground and distant roof tops fill with people and houses and the palette of life. From 30,000 feet you'd never know that below you was a place called Ball Club, Minnesota or see Agate Falls hidden under the Michigan trees.
Moments with nothing to do are rare for me. I usually get a few hours on Saturday morning and the quiet of the ride home but often not much else. Yet work and family found their way into this time as well. Even if you go away from it all it seems to have a way of finding you and dragging you in to its own whirlpool. I remain convinced that cell phones and the internet have played havoc with the whole idea of vacation. You can never seem to get "away" because whatever you've left behind can track you. It was good to leave work for a while but I never did get a few hours on a beach or a long walk in the woods. I miss that and as Monday morning looms I feel like I only had part of what I needed and that it will be months before I find it again.
Yet sleep is coming and I'll take as much of that now as I can and we'll see what tomorrow brings.
9/20/07
It's around 9:30 at night...
It's around 9:30 at night and I'll be in bed soon.
These past weeks have been busy beyond belief with arrangements for an episcopal visit, the change of staff at work, vacation plans, an illness in the family. I've pushed through more paperwork and dealt with more people asking for help then I can remember.
But one part is done, work is over for this week and the time for church things will begin tomorrow morning. I'm sitting and writing and waiting for a load of laundry to get done and then my pillow beckons.
A month ago I knew this was going to be a very busy time. Yet somehow things got done. Some people let me down but I was often amazed at who stepped in, who added a little bit of help to take some of the load. Events that seemed impossible for a moment somehow found a way to resolve themselves. When there was tired there always seemed to be a little more strength. Nothing about me, everything about grace.
It's not done by a long shot. I've got three more days of an episcopal visit. Our Bishop is a very nice man but I still have to study the services and will be flying solo in all of this for the first time. I'm nervous but not because the Bishop makes me nervous but because I want everything to be perfect and too often snare myself in that and miss all the good things along the way.
I want everything at St. Elias to go so well that I think I have to do it all. Now that's arrogance!
There's a lot of things I wish would have happened this past year, buildings painted, things started, progress made, things that would make a good impression and help the parish but I have to be careful that I lead and not drive people. There's a big difference.
More than anything else I would like our Bishop to see what we've been doing, how hard we've been working, the progress we've been making. We've got a long way to go but we've also traveled far and I hope he sees the progress. I would like the people of St. Elias, as well to know our Bishop and be hoonored by his visit and sieze this moment to get a sense of their own future.
Bu now I've got to sleep. Lots of things to do. Lots of miles to travel. And lists everywhere.
These past weeks have been busy beyond belief with arrangements for an episcopal visit, the change of staff at work, vacation plans, an illness in the family. I've pushed through more paperwork and dealt with more people asking for help then I can remember.
But one part is done, work is over for this week and the time for church things will begin tomorrow morning. I'm sitting and writing and waiting for a load of laundry to get done and then my pillow beckons.
A month ago I knew this was going to be a very busy time. Yet somehow things got done. Some people let me down but I was often amazed at who stepped in, who added a little bit of help to take some of the load. Events that seemed impossible for a moment somehow found a way to resolve themselves. When there was tired there always seemed to be a little more strength. Nothing about me, everything about grace.
It's not done by a long shot. I've got three more days of an episcopal visit. Our Bishop is a very nice man but I still have to study the services and will be flying solo in all of this for the first time. I'm nervous but not because the Bishop makes me nervous but because I want everything to be perfect and too often snare myself in that and miss all the good things along the way.
I want everything at St. Elias to go so well that I think I have to do it all. Now that's arrogance!
There's a lot of things I wish would have happened this past year, buildings painted, things started, progress made, things that would make a good impression and help the parish but I have to be careful that I lead and not drive people. There's a big difference.
More than anything else I would like our Bishop to see what we've been doing, how hard we've been working, the progress we've been making. We've got a long way to go but we've also traveled far and I hope he sees the progress. I would like the people of St. Elias, as well to know our Bishop and be hoonored by his visit and sieze this moment to get a sense of their own future.
Bu now I've got to sleep. Lots of things to do. Lots of miles to travel. And lists everywhere.
9/17/07
Wireless...
We had some family over this past week and their dog ate through the 50 feet or so of cable that went up from my basement to the upstairs and the DSL modem. Time to go wireless and after a few tries, okay more than a few, I'm up and running with my own wireless network in my house. And I remember when someone who had a 14.4 modem thought they had the world by the tail!
Anyway this should be just about the busiest week of my life, so much to do and His Grace Bishop MARK coming on Friday. I'll be out of circulation for most of this week and blogging on vacation for next, so say a few prayers for us all and I'll see you on the other side of this week.
Anyway this should be just about the busiest week of my life, so much to do and His Grace Bishop MARK coming on Friday. I'll be out of circulation for most of this week and blogging on vacation for next, so say a few prayers for us all and I'll see you on the other side of this week.
9/12/07
A Year and a Day...
Today marks a year and a day since my brother Paul died suddenly while on a business trip in California. And as I type I think.
I'm amazed at how quickly a year goes by these days. I know time is a constant but as I get older it seems to be picking up steam and sometimes I feel like I'm riding a comet through space. The Psalmist's passages about the temporary nature of human life in the greater expanse of eternity become more real as each day passes.
I've seen again the resiliency that faith creates in a person. In the larger scope of things I suppose my brother's death was just one of who knows how many that occurred that day, just as mine will be. But to those who knew him and cared for him it was like fate sucker punched them and yet those closest to Paul still endure. Faith makes a person resilient, able to flex in the winds of time by virtue of being rooted in something larger. It handles the larger questions of life not so much with answers but rather assurance and hope.
And my faith has not died. To this day I have no answer as why this all happened. There is no logic, no sense, no heavenly vision in which all is explained. I will probably never know anything concrete about this while I still have breath. Yet I'm not angry with God, perplexed sometimes maybe, but not angry for all of this. Perhaps if it had been my wife who passed I would be, I don't know and there is a certain comfort in whatever distance we have, no matter how small, from hard events. But somewhere inside there is a still and calm place that remains secure in this storm.
My sadness now is mostly not for me but for a future that will be remarkably different and less because of Paul's passing. Every future wedding, children, events, gatherings, anniversaries, all of it will be a kind of mourning. We''ll say, "If only Paul were here..." or "If only Paul had seen this..." That will be sad but I suppose in a way those yet to be spoken words will also mean that he still matters, is still part of the equation, still loved, and still with us in some way.
A year and a day, oh my!
I'm amazed at how quickly a year goes by these days. I know time is a constant but as I get older it seems to be picking up steam and sometimes I feel like I'm riding a comet through space. The Psalmist's passages about the temporary nature of human life in the greater expanse of eternity become more real as each day passes.
I've seen again the resiliency that faith creates in a person. In the larger scope of things I suppose my brother's death was just one of who knows how many that occurred that day, just as mine will be. But to those who knew him and cared for him it was like fate sucker punched them and yet those closest to Paul still endure. Faith makes a person resilient, able to flex in the winds of time by virtue of being rooted in something larger. It handles the larger questions of life not so much with answers but rather assurance and hope.
And my faith has not died. To this day I have no answer as why this all happened. There is no logic, no sense, no heavenly vision in which all is explained. I will probably never know anything concrete about this while I still have breath. Yet I'm not angry with God, perplexed sometimes maybe, but not angry for all of this. Perhaps if it had been my wife who passed I would be, I don't know and there is a certain comfort in whatever distance we have, no matter how small, from hard events. But somewhere inside there is a still and calm place that remains secure in this storm.
My sadness now is mostly not for me but for a future that will be remarkably different and less because of Paul's passing. Every future wedding, children, events, gatherings, anniversaries, all of it will be a kind of mourning. We''ll say, "If only Paul were here..." or "If only Paul had seen this..." That will be sad but I suppose in a way those yet to be spoken words will also mean that he still matters, is still part of the equation, still loved, and still with us in some way.
A year and a day, oh my!
9/9/07
Miscellaneous Thoughts...
I took a look at the date of the last post and realized I haven't done any writing for nearly two weeks. What can I say? I've been busy. My boss retired in early August and left me with a job and a half and our Bishop is set to come in two weeks. I hope that the folks who regularly visit here won't have forgotten about me. Hello? Still there?
__________
Today the sky was sunny and the temperature about 69 degrees Fahrenheit. Just about a perfect day. The road back north was smooth and the journey uneventful. I think being in the hills and valleys somehow makes the drive more interesting even if you've done it literally over a hundred times. I've never had a similar experience when I've driven through the prairie country. In a few weeks the leaves will begin to change and the drive will become even more pleasant.
__________
I suspect the next few weeks will be about studying and being very busy at work. Study because every time a Bishop comes everything gets complicated and the choreography, if you will, becomes more complex. Busy because even though the hell month of covering two buildings will officially end tomorrow when the new boss arrives there are still a lot of things that need to be done until she gets up to speed.
In that same vein getting a new boss is sort of like getting your first college roommate. You hope they're nice, don't snore, and are reasonably clean. I met her for about 20 seconds when she toured our campus for her second interview and now she and I will be in the same office figuring out how to make it all work out. Hope for the best, do what you can, make it work.
__________
Oh the joy of being able to sleep with open windows! September is Minnesota's way of apologizing for the cruddy weather that's the norm around here. Every state has some part of the weather they do well. Kansas, for example is very hot and dry in the summer with temperatures that often go into the triple digits, but fall is warm and long and spring early. Minnesota only has September and for the rest of the year its too something or another.
A lot of Minnesotans take vacations and get married in September because its the basic window of opportunity climate wise and my wife and I plan to do the same just before October, not get married (although we actually DID get married in September), but take a vacation. In a few weeks I'll be writing from Michigan's Upper Peninsula where some of the best autumn colors in this neck of the woods can be found even if hardly anyone actually lives there all year round.
__________
And thank you to all the visitors who've kept coming back even when I was tied up.
__________
Today the sky was sunny and the temperature about 69 degrees Fahrenheit. Just about a perfect day. The road back north was smooth and the journey uneventful. I think being in the hills and valleys somehow makes the drive more interesting even if you've done it literally over a hundred times. I've never had a similar experience when I've driven through the prairie country. In a few weeks the leaves will begin to change and the drive will become even more pleasant.
__________
I suspect the next few weeks will be about studying and being very busy at work. Study because every time a Bishop comes everything gets complicated and the choreography, if you will, becomes more complex. Busy because even though the hell month of covering two buildings will officially end tomorrow when the new boss arrives there are still a lot of things that need to be done until she gets up to speed.
In that same vein getting a new boss is sort of like getting your first college roommate. You hope they're nice, don't snore, and are reasonably clean. I met her for about 20 seconds when she toured our campus for her second interview and now she and I will be in the same office figuring out how to make it all work out. Hope for the best, do what you can, make it work.
__________
Oh the joy of being able to sleep with open windows! September is Minnesota's way of apologizing for the cruddy weather that's the norm around here. Every state has some part of the weather they do well. Kansas, for example is very hot and dry in the summer with temperatures that often go into the triple digits, but fall is warm and long and spring early. Minnesota only has September and for the rest of the year its too something or another.
A lot of Minnesotans take vacations and get married in September because its the basic window of opportunity climate wise and my wife and I plan to do the same just before October, not get married (although we actually DID get married in September), but take a vacation. In a few weeks I'll be writing from Michigan's Upper Peninsula where some of the best autumn colors in this neck of the woods can be found even if hardly anyone actually lives there all year round.
__________
And thank you to all the visitors who've kept coming back even when I was tied up.
8/28/07
A Passing Thought...
I was reading an article today from somewhere, probably a link at Relapsed Catholic (an interesting site for social commentary from Canada but like most social comment sites long on critique and short on solutions) and a question from one of the articles popped into my mind.
Why do we let everyone else tell us how to be Christian? I mean activists of all kinds who would fight tooth and nail for the right to be exactly who they claim to be and demand accommodation from the larger culture seem to have no problem demanding that Christians act in whatever way they determine is "christian" even if it has nothing to do with actual Christianity.
You've heard it before. "If you were really a Christian you wouldn't be so judgemental.." (which usually means you should shut up and not say anything about whatever it is they're doing). To which most Christians seem to say "You're right, I should be quiet because after all what I believe is private and personal and so on and so on..." Doesn't anyone ever pause a second and say "Hey, you want me to keep my faith, my ideas, my lifestyle private and personal but you have no problem at all with shouting everything you think and do from every street corner and working hard to enforce your life on me and the whole world and besides all that you have the chutzpah to tell me what it means to be a Christian?"
It just seems odd that we let folks who don't like us, don't know about us, or sometimes are very hostile to us define how it is that we should be "christian". No, we don't have to be a pain in the posterior but at the same time we've got nothing to be ashamed of either. The life that is offered in Christianity is good and right and healthy and makes things better for people and for societies that embrace its ideals. And we have every right to say "You know what, I'm not going to let you tell me how I have to be a Christian. I'm not going to give you the power to define my faith for me or tell me how I should act in the world because, quite frankly, you have no interest in my being a better Christian at all, you just want me to accommodate whatever it is you're up to and you hope you can shame or silence me."
It's called back bone folks.
Why do we let everyone else tell us how to be Christian? I mean activists of all kinds who would fight tooth and nail for the right to be exactly who they claim to be and demand accommodation from the larger culture seem to have no problem demanding that Christians act in whatever way they determine is "christian" even if it has nothing to do with actual Christianity.
You've heard it before. "If you were really a Christian you wouldn't be so judgemental.." (which usually means you should shut up and not say anything about whatever it is they're doing). To which most Christians seem to say "You're right, I should be quiet because after all what I believe is private and personal and so on and so on..." Doesn't anyone ever pause a second and say "Hey, you want me to keep my faith, my ideas, my lifestyle private and personal but you have no problem at all with shouting everything you think and do from every street corner and working hard to enforce your life on me and the whole world and besides all that you have the chutzpah to tell me what it means to be a Christian?"
It just seems odd that we let folks who don't like us, don't know about us, or sometimes are very hostile to us define how it is that we should be "christian". No, we don't have to be a pain in the posterior but at the same time we've got nothing to be ashamed of either. The life that is offered in Christianity is good and right and healthy and makes things better for people and for societies that embrace its ideals. And we have every right to say "You know what, I'm not going to let you tell me how I have to be a Christian. I'm not going to give you the power to define my faith for me or tell me how I should act in the world because, quite frankly, you have no interest in my being a better Christian at all, you just want me to accommodate whatever it is you're up to and you hope you can shame or silence me."
It's called back bone folks.
8/24/07
A Little Packer joke...
A man went to a Green Bay Packer football game with a friend and noticed that the seat next to him was empty, a rare things since games are usually sold out years in advance. He asked the person on the other side of the empty seat why no one was there. He said the seat had been his wife's but she passed away. The man, feeling a sense of pity, asked "Isn't there any one else you know who could go to the game with you?" "No", he said, "They're all at the funeral."That one is for my uncle who postponed his wedding date to make the Packer game...
8/21/07
Larry Norman Now and Then...
There are more Christian contemporary artists out there then you can shake a stick at and yet the man who pulled the load, endured the harsh critique of unthinking minds, and tried to reach people for Jesus by using music they would listen to is still at 60 (?) the best...
Thanks Larry.
Thanks Larry.
8/19/07
Converts and such...
From time to time one hears in Orthodox circles that dreaded word "convert". Usually its used an adjective to describe a person in the Church for example "So and so is a convert Priest..."
In some ways its sad the whole idea of people coming in to Orthodoxy by conversion is still so unusual in many places that a term has come to be used to describe those who do. It's not unlike a scientist naming a new species. Yet I've never heard, for example, someone described as a "convert" to the Assembly of God, or a Baptist Church. While people in those communities and others like them are sometimes referred to as a "former" this or that I believe the lack of the word "convert" comes from the understanding that someone coming from the outside into a community of faith is normal operating procedure and so there is no need to use a special adjective to describe them.
Regardless, two things need to be said.
First, all Orthodox are converts. Having generations of family within the Church is a blessing but it means nothing for salvation if the person does not themselves embrace the faith. There are no grandparents in Orthodoxy, no special privileges based on heritage, and no guarantees that come with simply being part of a family or culture with a long history in Orthodoxy. Each person must believe. Each person must work out their salvation. No extra credit is given for simply being born into an Orthodox family whether that family has been Orthodox for centuries or months.
Second, when people come in to Orthodoxy from wherever they originate they are real Orthodox, as Orthodox as anyone who's family has been in the faith for centuries. There is no two tiered system based on longevity or ethnicity. Faithfulness matters. Longevity helps because it gives time to develop faithfulness, but it carries no value in itself and ethnicity can be valuable in the sense that a person lives with the advantages of Orthodox culture but without true faith it means nothing.
Some day, I hope, the word "convert" to describe certain people coming into Orthodoxy will simply fade away. One day we'll realize that Orthodoxy is a faith, a way of life and transcends all cultures, a universal thing possessed by all who embrace it and not limited to any group or nation, in fact it is the one lasting nation and people, the Kingdom of God. One day we'll return to our original missionary vision and see people coming into the Faith as the most normal of things, as normal as a tin of warm baklava. Some day no one will stare when new people walk in our door or find their way home in our parishes.
Until then we have this teaching moment, a window into the truth of our Faith in these matters thrown open by those who come in to our Parishes seeking that very faith and by doing so help us to grow in ours as well.
In some ways its sad the whole idea of people coming in to Orthodoxy by conversion is still so unusual in many places that a term has come to be used to describe those who do. It's not unlike a scientist naming a new species. Yet I've never heard, for example, someone described as a "convert" to the Assembly of God, or a Baptist Church. While people in those communities and others like them are sometimes referred to as a "former" this or that I believe the lack of the word "convert" comes from the understanding that someone coming from the outside into a community of faith is normal operating procedure and so there is no need to use a special adjective to describe them.
Regardless, two things need to be said.
First, all Orthodox are converts. Having generations of family within the Church is a blessing but it means nothing for salvation if the person does not themselves embrace the faith. There are no grandparents in Orthodoxy, no special privileges based on heritage, and no guarantees that come with simply being part of a family or culture with a long history in Orthodoxy. Each person must believe. Each person must work out their salvation. No extra credit is given for simply being born into an Orthodox family whether that family has been Orthodox for centuries or months.
Second, when people come in to Orthodoxy from wherever they originate they are real Orthodox, as Orthodox as anyone who's family has been in the faith for centuries. There is no two tiered system based on longevity or ethnicity. Faithfulness matters. Longevity helps because it gives time to develop faithfulness, but it carries no value in itself and ethnicity can be valuable in the sense that a person lives with the advantages of Orthodox culture but without true faith it means nothing.
Some day, I hope, the word "convert" to describe certain people coming into Orthodoxy will simply fade away. One day we'll realize that Orthodoxy is a faith, a way of life and transcends all cultures, a universal thing possessed by all who embrace it and not limited to any group or nation, in fact it is the one lasting nation and people, the Kingdom of God. One day we'll return to our original missionary vision and see people coming into the Faith as the most normal of things, as normal as a tin of warm baklava. Some day no one will stare when new people walk in our door or find their way home in our parishes.
Until then we have this teaching moment, a window into the truth of our Faith in these matters thrown open by those who come in to our Parishes seeking that very faith and by doing so help us to grow in ours as well.
And then the rains came...
After a long period of hot, dry, weather the rains have come, several showers and then a whole weekend of near constant rain.
Driving down Highway 61 in the early hours of the morning I was just south of Rollingstone, Minnesota and headed towards Winona when firefighters and their equipment filled the southbound lanes. No one was getting through. Nearly a foot of rain coursing through the steep valleys had rendered many roads impassible and towns like Stockton and Minnesota City were flooded.
Seeking an alternate route I drove through Rollingstone to Altura and then south, essentially attempting a loop around the flooded area. Traveling on Winona County highway 33 I came up over a hill and discovered the road below flooded with a torrent of water the color of coffee with cream, depth unknown, and cascading into the valley like a small water fall. Back in Altura they told me there was no place to go, the roads were closed.
I decided to head back towards Highway 61 and hopefully go north to Wabasha and then cross over and travel down the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River to LaCrosse. A stop again in Rollingstone confirmed, though, that a small road, Winona County 25, was still open. Steep and winding it had not yet been flooded and following it I could make it south to Interstate 90 and then east to LaCrosse. My car, which whatever flaws it may have is a champion in foul weather, climbed the winding route out of the coulee to the top of the bluff. Police in Lewiston just north of the Interstate guided us through a a road still under construction and then on to the highway.
Traveling along the Interstate through the rain and fog I could see the trees in the ditch. Trees have this amazing ability to cling to the sides of bluffs at times sticking out nearly horizontally. But the constant rain had loosened their grip on the thin soil and once loosened gravity did its worked and took them, and any stone they held in place, to the side of the road. They really mean it when they put "Beware of fallen rock" signs on this stretch of the road.
Arriving in LaCrosse behind schedule I discovered the power was out, but the people still came and we served the Liturgy "old school" just candles and no way to heat the water. The fervor of faith was in our hearts. With Liturgy completed I returned on the Wisconsin side crossing over to Wabasha in Minnesota and on to home. For my part all was well but at least four people had died, washed away in their cars.
And its still raining.
Driving down Highway 61 in the early hours of the morning I was just south of Rollingstone, Minnesota and headed towards Winona when firefighters and their equipment filled the southbound lanes. No one was getting through. Nearly a foot of rain coursing through the steep valleys had rendered many roads impassible and towns like Stockton and Minnesota City were flooded.
Seeking an alternate route I drove through Rollingstone to Altura and then south, essentially attempting a loop around the flooded area. Traveling on Winona County highway 33 I came up over a hill and discovered the road below flooded with a torrent of water the color of coffee with cream, depth unknown, and cascading into the valley like a small water fall. Back in Altura they told me there was no place to go, the roads were closed.
I decided to head back towards Highway 61 and hopefully go north to Wabasha and then cross over and travel down the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River to LaCrosse. A stop again in Rollingstone confirmed, though, that a small road, Winona County 25, was still open. Steep and winding it had not yet been flooded and following it I could make it south to Interstate 90 and then east to LaCrosse. My car, which whatever flaws it may have is a champion in foul weather, climbed the winding route out of the coulee to the top of the bluff. Police in Lewiston just north of the Interstate guided us through a a road still under construction and then on to the highway.
Traveling along the Interstate through the rain and fog I could see the trees in the ditch. Trees have this amazing ability to cling to the sides of bluffs at times sticking out nearly horizontally. But the constant rain had loosened their grip on the thin soil and once loosened gravity did its worked and took them, and any stone they held in place, to the side of the road. They really mean it when they put "Beware of fallen rock" signs on this stretch of the road.
Arriving in LaCrosse behind schedule I discovered the power was out, but the people still came and we served the Liturgy "old school" just candles and no way to heat the water. The fervor of faith was in our hearts. With Liturgy completed I returned on the Wisconsin side crossing over to Wabasha in Minnesota and on to home. For my part all was well but at least four people had died, washed away in their cars.
And its still raining.
8/17/07
Another good reason...
Another good reason to visit Jihad Watch, perhap the best site on the net for news and analysis of the ongoing efforts of some Muslims and Muslim groups to establish, by many means, a global Islamic culture. Jihad Watch is probably the only place where you can get news from around the world on this topic, links to resources, and scholarly analysis.
There is a caveat, of course. Comments are often unmoderated (there are so many and it would be impossible to handle them all) so there are folks who really are "____ the towelhead" types and they should be ignored not only for their factual ignorance, (the majority of Muslims are not Arabs and not all Arabs are Muslims), but also for their attitude which is not Christian. We are called, as Christians, to pray even for those people who would violently challenge us and perhaps condemn us to life as second class human beings and racism or hate denigrates who we should be.
That being said the site is a real eye opener and a treasure house of much needed information that has often not been found in the mainstream media for many reasons. We need to face the threat of an armed and militant Islam with knowledge, wisdom, and a commitment to our values and this site gives us not simply news but also scholarly insight into the history and teachings of Islam that is sorely needed.
There is a caveat, of course. Comments are often unmoderated (there are so many and it would be impossible to handle them all) so there are folks who really are "____ the towelhead" types and they should be ignored not only for their factual ignorance, (the majority of Muslims are not Arabs and not all Arabs are Muslims), but also for their attitude which is not Christian. We are called, as Christians, to pray even for those people who would violently challenge us and perhaps condemn us to life as second class human beings and racism or hate denigrates who we should be.
That being said the site is a real eye opener and a treasure house of much needed information that has often not been found in the mainstream media for many reasons. We need to face the threat of an armed and militant Islam with knowledge, wisdom, and a commitment to our values and this site gives us not simply news but also scholarly insight into the history and teachings of Islam that is sorely needed.
8/15/07
Two years on the road...
Yesterday as I concelebrated the Divine Liturgy at St. George Church I also marked the second year anniversary of my ordination as an Orthodox Priest.
In one way its not important at all. It's not that the grace of being a Priest is unimportant but rather that I was not a person who absolutely, positively, had to be a Priest and would hold my breath and turn blue if it didn't happen. The truth is that I was very happy as a Deacon and if tomorrow my Bishop chose to laicize me I would simply go back to my local Orthodox church as a layman and find a way to serve. Being a Priest is a great gift but it was never a necessary thing for me to serve or minister. If for some reason I couldn't have or chose not to be a Priest I would have just done something else so in that sense its not that important.
The truth is that being a Priest is more about having tools to serve in a way that I couldn't without those graces. That's what makes the difference. Grace has been given to me that I can, in fact that I must, share and so I can, for example, travel to Fargo, North Dakota and baptize and go to LaCrosse to celebrate the Divine Liturgy in ways that I couldn't as a layman or even a Deacon. Whatever I've been given is so it can be shared and if, for lack of a better term "more" is given then the potential for service expands. While that makes it sound like I view the whole thing in a sort of utilitarian way it would be good to read between the lines and know that to serve requires a certain sense of passion for it all and that flame still flickers inside even on the days when I am most tired and the road wears long. I believe that what I've been given matters and that often makes all the difference.
That being said the hardest thing about being a Priest is internal. The calling is so high and I am very aware of the myriad of ways that I don't measure up. People say nice things about me and kiss my hand but many times I think "If they only knew..." No I haven't killed anyone or run off with the choir director but to be in the presence of holy things is like shining a huge flashlight into every dark corner of my soul, the places where the dirt gets swept just out of sight of most people. I cannot claim blissful ignorance and I know how far I have to go. That is disconcerting.
The best things about being a Priest are the moments that touch your soul. Standing in the presence of holy things can be powerfully convicting but at the same time there are moments of great peace and heavenly calm in the beauty of the liturgy. There are, too, those unscripted moments of interaction with people in which they minister to you and express their gratitude for what you have shared with them. A few days ago I was speaking with a parishioner and they told me how they were making the letters for our outside sign. I said "If you want why not just buy the letters commercially" but they said that when they make the letters by hand (and this person is skilled in craftwork) they pray for me. I can go for days sustained only by words like those.
It's good, too, to see those moments when people "get it" and start to make sense of things or themselves or the world. I believe that Jesus is who He said He was and that he offers the only real sanity and salvation in the world. I believe that people will not just be fit for heaven by encountering Him but also live a better life in the present. When they see that, when they understand that and the "lights go on" it makes the hours and travel and such worth every bit of it. The world can be crazy and dark but the light is never overpowered by the night, never, not now or ever,
Sometimes I wish I'd get a phone call from the Bishop saying "Fr John, I've decided to return you to the Diaconate..." But that's mostly just my fatigue coming out, my body and soul saying I need a vacation (and one is coming in late September). On the whole its been a good thing and I'm glad that I circled the altar even as I am amazed at how quickly time has passed. I'm grateful for the prayers that have been offered on my behalf and the patience that people have shown me as I learn my craft and perfect my calling. I look forward to the day when my travels end even as I am convinced that they were and are what is needed for my parish to become what God would have it to be. The vestments still sometimes seem to weigh on my shoulders like a ton of bricks but my heart is often light. One step at a time I'll just keep walking...
In one way its not important at all. It's not that the grace of being a Priest is unimportant but rather that I was not a person who absolutely, positively, had to be a Priest and would hold my breath and turn blue if it didn't happen. The truth is that I was very happy as a Deacon and if tomorrow my Bishop chose to laicize me I would simply go back to my local Orthodox church as a layman and find a way to serve. Being a Priest is a great gift but it was never a necessary thing for me to serve or minister. If for some reason I couldn't have or chose not to be a Priest I would have just done something else so in that sense its not that important.
The truth is that being a Priest is more about having tools to serve in a way that I couldn't without those graces. That's what makes the difference. Grace has been given to me that I can, in fact that I must, share and so I can, for example, travel to Fargo, North Dakota and baptize and go to LaCrosse to celebrate the Divine Liturgy in ways that I couldn't as a layman or even a Deacon. Whatever I've been given is so it can be shared and if, for lack of a better term "more" is given then the potential for service expands. While that makes it sound like I view the whole thing in a sort of utilitarian way it would be good to read between the lines and know that to serve requires a certain sense of passion for it all and that flame still flickers inside even on the days when I am most tired and the road wears long. I believe that what I've been given matters and that often makes all the difference.
That being said the hardest thing about being a Priest is internal. The calling is so high and I am very aware of the myriad of ways that I don't measure up. People say nice things about me and kiss my hand but many times I think "If they only knew..." No I haven't killed anyone or run off with the choir director but to be in the presence of holy things is like shining a huge flashlight into every dark corner of my soul, the places where the dirt gets swept just out of sight of most people. I cannot claim blissful ignorance and I know how far I have to go. That is disconcerting.
The best things about being a Priest are the moments that touch your soul. Standing in the presence of holy things can be powerfully convicting but at the same time there are moments of great peace and heavenly calm in the beauty of the liturgy. There are, too, those unscripted moments of interaction with people in which they minister to you and express their gratitude for what you have shared with them. A few days ago I was speaking with a parishioner and they told me how they were making the letters for our outside sign. I said "If you want why not just buy the letters commercially" but they said that when they make the letters by hand (and this person is skilled in craftwork) they pray for me. I can go for days sustained only by words like those.
It's good, too, to see those moments when people "get it" and start to make sense of things or themselves or the world. I believe that Jesus is who He said He was and that he offers the only real sanity and salvation in the world. I believe that people will not just be fit for heaven by encountering Him but also live a better life in the present. When they see that, when they understand that and the "lights go on" it makes the hours and travel and such worth every bit of it. The world can be crazy and dark but the light is never overpowered by the night, never, not now or ever,
Sometimes I wish I'd get a phone call from the Bishop saying "Fr John, I've decided to return you to the Diaconate..." But that's mostly just my fatigue coming out, my body and soul saying I need a vacation (and one is coming in late September). On the whole its been a good thing and I'm glad that I circled the altar even as I am amazed at how quickly time has passed. I'm grateful for the prayers that have been offered on my behalf and the patience that people have shown me as I learn my craft and perfect my calling. I look forward to the day when my travels end even as I am convinced that they were and are what is needed for my parish to become what God would have it to be. The vestments still sometimes seem to weigh on my shoulders like a ton of bricks but my heart is often light. One step at a time I'll just keep walking...
Miscellaneous Thoughts...
I took a look at the date for the last post and realized that it's been a while.
Most of it has to do with just being busy. Things at work, things at church, life.
We filled half a ten yard dumpster last Saturday with excess stuff from St. Elias. It's amazing how much stuff accumulates even in a building that's tiny by the standards of most churches. Some of it was about being frugal. Some of it was about being afraid of offending people by throwing stuff they gave or made away even if it was broken or had long since stopped being useful. All the toys are still there even though a good deal of them are in tatters because who wants to be the one to tell our handful of children there are less toys even if they'd probably never notice? Some of it is also probably a kind of cluttered way of being that comes with being a small church in a run down section of LaCrosse.
It's interesting, though, to see how people positively react to clean up and getting our little building back into shape. For its extremely small size and complete lack of functionality for a modern, and by modern I mean anything after 1950, parish it still has a charm buried beneath a pile of stuff that once unearthed is revealed. A few flowers here and there, a coat of paint, a repair or two and the place looks at least serviceable and reminds the older members of better days. Regardless, its a step in the right direction, a mark of progress to be able to root around inside and lighten the load.
_____
The past few days have seen some welcome relief from the high temperatures that mark a typical July / August in these parts. It's normal around here for it to be hot for a few days and then to have a good sized thunderstorm come through and wallop the place while trailing cool air in its wake. But for most of July we had the heat without the storms and things were getting brown. A couple of thunderstorms later and even the grass is starting to recover, and so are we.
_____
My boss at work retired this past Friday after nearly 20 years service. That in itself is unusual in the human services field. Normally we stay in the field but just swap companies every few years when stress or corporate politics or sheer fatigue burns us out. At conventions its usually the same old faces and only the name tags are new. 20 years in one place is amazing and with her departure an era ends and the time for corporate policy changing has begun.
Sometimes it really is necessary but I think a lot of times policies are changed not so much for greater efficiency, although that's given as the reason, but rather because in this world there is a hunger to leave a legacy and absent a way to truly do that or the understanding of eternity that undergirds so much of the Christian sense of what really matters, we settle for a few lines of policy in the company manual as our mark on the world. But its still just treasure on earth where moth and rust do cause decay and where the next person in your office will undo everything you worked so hard for the second they get your office.
_____
I've been noticing, too, how tired I've been lately. Part of it is the heat. Much of it is the work load.
Tired is now the baseline for me and I barely remember what it was like to be refreshed and completely awake. Yet I've been sustained and that makes all the difference because the cause of St. Elias is a worthy one and with just a bit more work we can start to find our way up and out and on our way...
Most of it has to do with just being busy. Things at work, things at church, life.
We filled half a ten yard dumpster last Saturday with excess stuff from St. Elias. It's amazing how much stuff accumulates even in a building that's tiny by the standards of most churches. Some of it was about being frugal. Some of it was about being afraid of offending people by throwing stuff they gave or made away even if it was broken or had long since stopped being useful. All the toys are still there even though a good deal of them are in tatters because who wants to be the one to tell our handful of children there are less toys even if they'd probably never notice? Some of it is also probably a kind of cluttered way of being that comes with being a small church in a run down section of LaCrosse.
It's interesting, though, to see how people positively react to clean up and getting our little building back into shape. For its extremely small size and complete lack of functionality for a modern, and by modern I mean anything after 1950, parish it still has a charm buried beneath a pile of stuff that once unearthed is revealed. A few flowers here and there, a coat of paint, a repair or two and the place looks at least serviceable and reminds the older members of better days. Regardless, its a step in the right direction, a mark of progress to be able to root around inside and lighten the load.
_____
The past few days have seen some welcome relief from the high temperatures that mark a typical July / August in these parts. It's normal around here for it to be hot for a few days and then to have a good sized thunderstorm come through and wallop the place while trailing cool air in its wake. But for most of July we had the heat without the storms and things were getting brown. A couple of thunderstorms later and even the grass is starting to recover, and so are we.
_____
My boss at work retired this past Friday after nearly 20 years service. That in itself is unusual in the human services field. Normally we stay in the field but just swap companies every few years when stress or corporate politics or sheer fatigue burns us out. At conventions its usually the same old faces and only the name tags are new. 20 years in one place is amazing and with her departure an era ends and the time for corporate policy changing has begun.
Sometimes it really is necessary but I think a lot of times policies are changed not so much for greater efficiency, although that's given as the reason, but rather because in this world there is a hunger to leave a legacy and absent a way to truly do that or the understanding of eternity that undergirds so much of the Christian sense of what really matters, we settle for a few lines of policy in the company manual as our mark on the world. But its still just treasure on earth where moth and rust do cause decay and where the next person in your office will undo everything you worked so hard for the second they get your office.
_____
I've been noticing, too, how tired I've been lately. Part of it is the heat. Much of it is the work load.
Tired is now the baseline for me and I barely remember what it was like to be refreshed and completely awake. Yet I've been sustained and that makes all the difference because the cause of St. Elias is a worthy one and with just a bit more work we can start to find our way up and out and on our way...
8/9/07
Hedonism and disease...
An article from England where research is showing increases in illness due to our increasingly pleasure seeking lifestyles.
Could it be that all that stuff about moderation and morality is actually true...?
Could it be that all that stuff about moderation and morality is actually true...?
8/2/07
A Bridge Too Far...
As you probably already know a bridge through central Minneapolis collapsed and fell into the Mississippi River. The 35 W bridge is, perhaps, the most traveled bridge in Minnesota as commuters from both the northern and southern suburbs cross it to get to downtown Minneapolis or simply to pass through town. Apparently the years of heavy duty in all kinds of weather extremes were simply too much and at 6:05 PM it gave way. As morning breaks in Minneapolis we'll get a more exact number of dead and injured and our hope is the figure is small.
At a point in the past I don't recall something changed inside of me. I don't get rattled by tragedy in the way that people sometimes do, demanding that God give account for why He didn't prevent this horrible thing or that from happening. Bad things happen and I've simply come to realize this and even as I wish it weren't so I've stopped shaking my empty fist at the sky.
The world is broken, and I don't always know why, and may never know why. Things people make, things people do, people themselves, are flawed and mortal at a primal level and yelling about it seems to be as helpful as bashing your forehead against a brick wall hundreds of times. Your efforts will yield no answers and your pain will only increase.
What matters seems to be my response. Will struggle and tragedy make me hard and brittle or will it transform me into something better, something more human, something more like God designed me to be? In the face of chaos and the struggle for meaning in it all that's one thing I can control, a little bit of sense when things seem to be off the hook.
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