July 7

The person who has attained purity of heart has triumphed over cowardice. The person still in the process of being purified sometimes overcomes it and sometimes is overcome by it. The person not even engaged in spiritual warfare is either completely unaware that he is the ally of his own passions and of the demons and that he is sick with pride and presumption, thinking he is something when he is not; or else he is the slave and servant of cowardice, trembling like a baby and fearing fear where, for those who fear the Lord, there is no fear (Psalm 14:5 LXX) nor any occasion for cowardice.

~St Symeon the New Theologian

July 6

…we often say that the sources of our faith are two, Holy Scripture and Holy Tradition. Without completely excluding this position, I should like to make clear that the source of our Faith is one. And this is Pentecost, the Revelation, which happened once in history and, after that, everyone is given the possibility of experiencing it in his personal life. Pentecost is the highest point of Revelation. The saints attain the experience of Pentecost, that is to say the experience of deification, of partaking of the deifying energy of God. Afterwards this experience, which is so-called ‘uncreated words’, is conveyed through created words and conceptions, that is to say, through Holy Scripture and the Holy Tradition….When we are disconnected from the atmosphere of the Church, it is completely impossible for us to interpret Holy Scripture and the patristic texts…because they are written expressions of the Revelation.

~Metropolitan Hierotheos

Paths (Part 51: Relationships)

I have been blessed with many good relationships over the years, so many people to learn from, who have inspired me, and shown me the meaning of love. I recall my first pastor, the one who shared the mysteries of the four evangelists depicted in the stained glass window in the loft of my childhood church, and how he helped direct me on my way at an early age, inspiring me through his intellect and by his rational approach to faith. There was also my high school biology teacher, who introduced me to the Bhagavad-Gita and encouraged me to pursue the spiritual life, and then there was Professor Reynolds who showed me the meaning of selfless service and sacrifice, and of course MD, who had, more than anyone else, helped me open doors of understanding into my inner life, and had shown me the way to fight the inner warfare, and how to battle through the many aspects of my selfishness, striving to become love in spirit and in truth. And the list goes on and on, with so many more wonderful people, who I have failed to mention in this story, but who played very important roles in my growth nonetheless.

Since good relationships make up the best part of life, it is no surprise to me that the very essence and nature of the Christian faith is centered on a triune God, a God of relationship: Father with Son, Son with Father, Father and Son with Holy Spirit. It is also no surprise that the essence of our life, if we are Christian, is centered on relationship with this God; that through His mercy and grace, we can participate in this relationship and also be called sons of God, and not only that but we are also described by Him as His body, His bride, His daughter, His queen, all terms of intimacy and profoundly close relationship. So many of the paths I have taken in my life were in search of this intimacy, and the depth of this kind of relationship, and yet I didn’t know the way, I didn’t understand the meaning, or sometimes I just wasn’t listening, or didn’t want to hear.

Often it came down to just wanting to do it my own way, not wanting anyone to tell me what to do, but preferring to make my own paths and find my own adventures. But even in this, I took most of these errant paths in hopes of finding love, or else by way of my journey, hoping to return with a tale to tell that would impress my friends and family, and gain their affections. All of these paths which I took were motivated, in whole or in part, by vanity and selfishness, in hopes of getting love, and thereby finding some kind of fulfillment and peace. I had heard the promise of relationship with God at a very early age but I hadn’t learned how to make that relationship real. I remember hearing, what sounded to me like an empty platitude, that “I had a friend in Jesus” but nobody I knew seemed to know how to truly develop that friendship, and no one seemed able to show me how to apply the facets of the Christian faith in order to engender a relationship with God; in a way that could go beyond mere words and become the reality of my being.

So if God is love, which He is, and I’ve heard the love of God described as a vast pool of love, with limitless depth and breadth, a pool so deep and so wide as to transcend space and time, I wanted this love, yet even so, up until finding the Orthodox faith, I still had managed to dance around the edges of this pool and not get wet. That isn’t completely true, I did get a little wet; I had throughout my life tasted drops of God’s infinite love, but I had never been submerged in it and that is what I’ve always wanted; to be drenched, completely washed over, saturated in the love of God. I wanted to be baptized in this limitless pool of love and transformed; empowered to put the dead-end paths behind me, and to dwell in The Way—the path without beginning or end.

The Orthodox faith understands Christ as the great physician, the healer of souls; and the method of healing is through the power of His Holy Spirit, and subsequent to this grace, by the following of the gospel commandments that He gave us. Holy Scripture and Holy Tradition are expressions of this truth and power of the Spirit and through these, the church, Christ’s body, has developed a method of cure which is capable of restoring each of us to what we were originally created, into the likeness of God; making us pure, light-filled, partners (amazingly) in the work of the Lord. Initiation into this great mercy is by way of the mystery of Baptism and Chrismation; in which the newly illumined, as the church calls newly baptized members, has renounced his past life of sin, and proclaims fidelity to Jesus Christ, and then receives the Holy Spirit through Chrismation, an anointing using holy oil.

Early in 2015 I was ready and very eager to take this next step. Typically, baptisms take place on Holy Saturday just prior to Pascha (Easter). But because Pascha was only a few months away, Father John, my priest and friend, decided that there wouldn’t be enough time to teach me everything required of catechumens, those being trained in the doctrines, mysteries etc. of the church prior to their baptism, in time for the coming Pascha; so he felt I should wait to be baptized until the following year, after I had more time to learn. Though I yearned to participate in the Eucharist, and another fifteen months or so of waiting seemed like a very long time, I was also very happy for the opportunity to practice patient endurance, one of the qualities of genuine Christian life which St Paul explains has great rewards, and opens the door to greater depths of faith and spiritual understanding.

For the previous year, Father John and I had been meeting almost weekly to talk about spiritual matters, theology, church history, and his specialty—Christian culture as it has been practiced historically throughout the world, and as it exists today. He is a very knowledgeable and dedicated teacher, so I was very grateful for his diligence in guiding me, and for his generosity in spending so much time with me, when he had so many other commitments and obligations. Our discussions were extremely interesting, and a highlight of each week. I called these weekly meetings, ‘The Safeway Dialogs’ because they were held in the café-like area at our local Safeway grocery store. Sometimes we sat at a table near the fireplace, so I suppose I could have called them ‘Fireside Chats’ but that name has already been used.

He and I continued these dialogs all the way through to my baptism, and in fact we still enjoy them on an occasional Saturday afternoon. Added to these discussions, I began the weekly catechumen course that he also taught. Not only is Father John diligent in his role as a teacher but he is also extremely encouraging, gentle and kind; so he is also able to teach the Orthodox faith by his example. I have always admired and taken inspiration from anyone who embodies their role in life through dedication, joy and excellence; whether it is a great parent who by their words and actions seems to have been created especially for that role, or even someone serving in a seemingly humble position, as was the case of one particular employee at a fast-food restaurant I once had the pleasure of meeting. Her task was simple and mundane, taking my order at the drive-thru window, but the manner in which she did it, with a unique joy, unfeigned gratefulness, sincere grace, and focused professionalism, left me awestruck and in a small way forever changed. In that brief moment at the drive-thru window, this young lady became my living example of true servanthood, and the standard I would keep in my mind for how to be a good servant to others, just as Christ calls us to be. Well, it is the same with Father John, were I to consider how a pastor should care for his flock, here is an excellent example of caring, generosity, encouragement, intelligence, faith and empathy. We are all examples of something to one another, how extremely important is it to be an example that uplifts and inspires others, and if at all possible helps them on their way to salvation in the Kingdom of God.

(to be continued)

~FS

July 5

The true faith cures man and so guides him to the real worship of God and true communion with Him. Therefore the trueness of the faith is seen from the trueness of the cure of the person. If a faith does not cure man, it is not true. On this point we can maintain that Orthodoxy, as to method, resembles the sciences of today. A theoretical truth of science is confirmed by its results. Thus the faith of the Church, Orthodoxy, has results, it can cure man. And I believe that on this point the difference between the Orthodox Church and other ‘Churches’ is clearly visible. The orthodox faith recognizes the real illness of man, pinpoints it effectively, recognizes clearly what is real health, which is deification, but also recognizes well the methods by which it will cure the sick man.

These presuppositions determine the genuineness of the faith. If we examine carefully all the dogmatic differences between the Churches, that is to say, between Orthodoxy and the other ‘Churches’, we shall see that in reality they are made explicit on the matter of knowing the illness and the method of cure.

~Metropolitan Hierotheos

July 4

Bodily listlessness and torpor, which affect the soul as a result of our laziness and negligence, not only make us abandon our normal rule of prayer, but also darken the mind and fill it with despondency. Then blasphemous and cowardly thoughts arise in the heart. Indeed, the person tempted by the demon of listlessness cannot even enter his usual place of prayer; he grows sluggish, and absurd thoughts directed against the Creator of all things arise in his mind. Aware of the cause of all this and why it has happened to you, resolutely enter your normal place of prayer and, falling down before the God of love, ask with a compunctive and aching heart, full of tears, to be freed from the weight of listlessness and from your pernicious thoughts. If you knock hard and insistently, this release will soon be given to you.

~St Symeon the New Theologian

Independence Day

Rejoice!

Victory is won.

Liberation from our oppressor,

is achieved.

 

Glory, Glory, Glory!

It is the coming of our Lord,

with companies of angels,

to banish our foes.

 

Holy, Holy, Holy!

It is the rising of The Dawn,

bright and morning star,

Radiance of the Eastern Sky.

 

Showering us with Mercies.

 

Arise!

For the Prince of Peace is come,

He is victorious,

the battle has been won.

 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

It is our Independence Day,

may we rest,

within our Lord.

 

~FS

July 3

For someone who loves the body, mortal life, sensual pleasure, and the material world, separation from them is death; but for someone who loves holiness, God, the immaterial world and virtue, true death is for the mind to be separated from them even briefly. If the eyes of a person who can see sensible light are closed for an instant or covered by someone else, he suffers and is distressed and cannot bear it, especially if he was looking at something important or unusual. But is someone is illumined by the Holy Spirit and, whether asleep or awake, sees spiritually those blessings that ‘the eye has not seen, and the ear has not heard, and man’s heart has not grasped’ (1 Corinthians 2:9), and ‘that angels long to glimpse’ (1 Peter 1:12), how much more will he suffer and be tormented if he is torn away from the vision of these things? For this will seem to him like death, a veritable exclusion from eternal life.

~St Symeon the New Theologian

Paths: (Part 50: In From the Wilderness)

The best, most meaningful things in life, the ones that touch us the most deeply, and evoke the most within our souls, always tend to be multi-faceted and complex. They are never just one thing, but appear differently to us, when looked at from other perspectives, or when held in a different light. In addition to being beautiful and mysterious, the Divine Liturgy of the Orthodox Church, is also homey and familiar. Not only does it have the power to uplift and transform us into heavenly realms, but it also evokes the best memories and feelings of earthly life.

In many Orthodox churches, and all of the ones I’ve attended, there are no pews in the center of the worship space, since everyone who is able, stands throughout the service. Before the Liturgy begins, as the chanter chants the psalms of the hourly prayer, the people meet together and mill about; it is like a gathering of family, for a holiday, at the home of a loved one. It is an informal and intimate experience as families greet each other, children run to visit one another, perhaps a few folks are lighting candles and oil lamps, others are looking over their music as they stand ready in the choir, some find a quiet space in a corner and pray, or they find solace in the embrace of a beloved friend, or they stand in silence pondering the life of a friend from the past, staring intently at an icon—into the golden face of a departed saint. I have always felt this feeling of festivity awaiting the beginning of the Liturgy; the air has a feeling of excitement and anticipation, and the space itself has a feeling of warmth and comfort. Adding to this feeling of coziness are the assortment of throw rugs adorning the floors, much like the home of that loved one we might visit every Christmas or Thanksgiving. In all of these ways, the church is welcoming us and inviting us home again.

I’ve already mentioned the sublimity of the Divine Liturgy, its music, prayers, incense, and so on, yet it also contains innocence and simplicity. Nothing, to my mind, portrays this simplicity and innocence more than when it is time for the priest to share his homily and everyone, young and old, takes their seat on the floor to listen. It reminds me of story time in grade school. All generations, grandchildren, grandparents, all sitting humbly together on the rugs, ready to listen to the story that our father has for us today. There is something so very helpful in allowing our bodies to conform to this attitude of humility and innocence, it stimulates our minds to follow suit, assisting us in acquiring that blessed simplicity that Jesus encourages us to adopt on our journey to the Kingdom of God.

If the gathering of the church—the body of Christ, as the church is defined—could be compared, in a small way, to a gathering of family during the holidays, then the liturgy, which is the primary weekly holiday gathering in the Orthodox Church, is a fulfilling, satisfying and transformative, truly holy day. So very unlike the family gatherings I had come to expect in the houses of worship from my past, here the televisions are turned off, entertaining music isn’t playing in the background for our amusement, and the entire gathering is focused and directed in joyful anticipation towards the thanksgiving meal at the end, of genuine participation in the feast of feasts, our true communion with the body and blood of our Lord.

In other houses of worship, which I have experienced, I was first entertained and informed, and then maybe encouraged, and then finally given some inspiring words, a prayer and a pep talk; and on occasion, I was given a chip or a cracker and some juice as a tribute to an idea, a memorial to an important event from the past, and then benedicted away for the week. But in this liturgy, at this gathering of the people, the goal is true union with the body of Christ, communion with the Spirit of God, it is all about our participation with God, and not merely our conceptualization of Him. We seek to dwell now with our creator, the awesome and magnificent Power behind everything that exists; it is a fearful and presumptuous desire that we have, made possible only through the grace and mercy of a loving God. It is a transcendent and solemn affair, and it is given the solemnity and respect due something so uniquely powerful, holy, and priceless.

For about two years I attended the liturgy but was unable to fully participate in it, since I wasn’t a baptized Orthodox Christian. I can understand why some people might feel left out and feel offended or angry about being excluded from the Eucharist, but certainly the intent in offering it only to members of the church isn’t to exclude people; for everyone is welcome to join, but it is a respect for the importance of the gift being offered, and a protection against our superficiality, which could tend to render this amazing gift commonplace. Scripture itself admonishes us all to take these gifts of our Lords flesh and blood, with respect, and in a worthy way, so as not to bring condemnation down upon us. So it is out of loving concern that the Orthodox Church doesn’t open this sacrament up to those who may not understand its significance, or the appropriate attitude to have when approaching it. As for the inclusiveness, that we in the world tend to want, from all of our institutions, it is there in the form of the antidoron bread, which is available for everyone to enjoy during Communion, as an expression of fellowship and love.

So I had been attending the church for quite a while, and had even joined the choir, but was unable to participate in the Eucharist; the entire teleological reason for the liturgy, and indeed, also for my life. I knew I had found my spiritual home finally, after all the years of seeking in so many different places, I knew my home was in the Orthodox Church. I knew this was the place for me to finally find rest from my years of wandering and experimenting. Not that this was the end of my journey, for Christ and the church promises us an eternity of discovery and growth in God, but rather this was the place where I could finally become myself. I could see, and feel, and understand the potential, and the hope present here, for all that kept me from God, to finally fall away, or be ground out of me; like scales, or dead skin—all the lies, confusion, the emptiness and meaninglessness, the loneliness and anxiety could be shed, and I could be healed and transformed, resuscitated and given new life. The church has a method and a means to do this; an apostolic mandate and heritage, with the power of the Holy Spirit filling its traditions and its teachings, so that each member can, in actuality, attain divine union; attain purity, illumination, and deification, according to the workings of grace granted them by God.

All of this I knew instinctively about my new spiritual home, from all of the things I had already experienced within it, and also from the things I had read about it. In my heart I felt as if I had always been an Orthodox Christian, I just hadn’t known it. I had been a voice crying out, alone in the wilderness, and I could now finally come inside, and live amongst my own people.

(to be continued)

~FS

July 1

The goal of all who pursue the spiritual path is to do the will of Christ, their

God, to be reconciled with the Father through communion in the Spirit, and

so to achieve their salvation.  For only in this way is the soul’s salvation

attained. And if it is not attained, our labor is fatuous and our work vain.

Every path of life is pointless that does not lead the person pursuing it to

this consummation.                                      

                                                       ~St Symeon the New Theologian