Just what the Doctor ordered!

Published
by
frjohn
on November 30, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

All things medical seem to be on the minds of many people today. There’s hardly a single news broadcast that doesn’t feature a story about it.We wonder if “Obama-care” will pass through Congress and if it does, we wonder what the impact will be. Will there be adequate healthcare for the elderly, will families be able to afford coverage for their children, and will employers continue to offer insurance if there’s a public option, and so on? So, as I said, these seem to be very fearful and anxious times.

We are told that the answer to our fears is to just stay healthy. We are told that much of what we suffer could have been prevented. It’s just a matter of lifestyle choices. Therefore, it may be that in the future, our insurance and its cost will be tied to the lifestyle that we choose. I read somewhere that some states are trying to tie the cost of your premium to your BMI, or body mass index.Just the other day, I heard a dialogue between a student and a college administrator about the college’s new policy of making obese students take a class on losing weight or they would not be allowed to graduate.

So, preventive medicine may be just what the doctor ordered. I wonder though, if we all took better care of ourselves, would there be a need for so many doctors? I sometimes kid people by saying when we part company, “Stay out of trouble.” Then I add, “Well, I’m not sure about that because if you stay out of trouble, then I’ll be out of a job.” They just look back and smile. If we all stayed well, as much as possible, what would doctors do for a living?

We often speak of the Church as our spiritual hospital and that we are here because we are sick. There is preventative medicine –like prayer, fasting, and study-but because of our lifestyle choices, we have not followed the path to health. So, what would the Doctor order?

The Pharisees grumbled when Jesus went into the house of Matthew, the writer of the Gospel. After all, he was a tax collector, and they were the most hated people of all. Why would anyone in their right mind enter into a place filled with such uncleanness and spiritual disease? It is here that the Lord reminds them that the sick need a doctor. Then the Great Physician gives us his prescription: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” Mercy – this is a strange recommendation for the spiritually sick, or is it?

Every time we come to the Church, in fact any time we turn to the Lord, he meets us withmercy and not with judgment. If this were not so, then despair would most certainly kill us. Mercy renews us and strengthens us to continue our battletowards salvation.Yet, is the Lord’s mercy the only thing that Jesus meant? He did say earlier that the merciful would obtain mercy. So, mercy is something that we are to show as well. How might mercy be the very thing that the doctor ordered?

First, I can show mercy to myself.

I start with myself because I have found that if I have little mercy for myself, I will not be able to show it to others. I don’t mean that I simply justify and excuse everything that I do. I mean that I need to show mercy to my soul. I constantly hand my soul over to the robbers who take away for it everything that is good and leave my soul wounded and bleeding. Like the Samaritan, I could bind and dress my soul’s wounds. I could give it a little time to pray, a few morsels of spiritual reading, or an occasional visit to the hospital. Is that so hard to do? Why then, am I so reluctant to be merciful to myself? Like the Sadducee, the Pharisee, and the Scribe in the story of the Good Samaritan, I just pass by and show no mercy to my soul. I am too busy to bother. By showing no mercy to my soul, I find I have no mercy for others because my poor beaten and starve soul has nothing to give.

Then, I can show mercy to my family.

It used to be said that charity begins at home. I use to jest if charity begins at home, it usually stays at home. Yet, in truth, if I cannot show mercy at home, it is likely that I will not show it elsewhere.I used to counsel married couples who had a Christian orientation that they should try to practice the Sermon on the Mount in their marital relationship. If Jesus said that if an enemy compels us to go one mile, we should go two. If we are struck on one check, then turn the other. Most Christians would acknowledge that this is the way a Christian should act; yes that is until the Christian gets home, and then mercy sits outside the door.Disagreements occur between all loving couples and between parents and children.We all fail each other continually and the lack of mercy in a family can be shocking. I also counseled many couples bound for divorce, and not long into the interview, it was clear that mercy never lived in the house.

I can show mercy to my priest and to my Church.

The same truth applies here. If I cannot show mercy at Church, it is unlikely that I will show it elsewhere. Of course, disagreements are natural and we fail each other constantly. Yet, you would think that people seeking mercy from God would easily show mercy to each other. I would ask you to take a moment and look at your brothers and sisters in Church. What do you really know about them? What sorrows and burdens do they carry? If you don’t have a clue, then you never have to show mercy by binding up their wounds.Does your priest have wounds as well? I guarantee you that he does, andhe has many burdens to carry. When you offer to lift them a little, you show mercy to your priest.

Finally, I can show mercy the stranger and to my neighbor.

If I am merciful to myself, merciful to my family, and merciful to my church family, then I am better able to be merciful to strangers or to my neighbor. Again, we must be honest. What do we know about our neighbors other than that they are bothersome and irritating at times? The Lord said that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. God help me then because I don’t love my neighbors at all. Frankly I don’t really know much about them. If they have some personal problem, I’m sure that I’ll be the last to know. Life could beat them up and I wouldn’t see them because mercy does not guide my vision. If I am a merciful person, then I would have a merciful eye that would see the wounds in the man by the side of the road.

“Go learn this,” the Great Doctor says. “I desire mercy instead of sacrifice. Happy are you when you show mercy, for you shall obtain mercy.”

The Best Seats in the House

Published
by
frjohn
on November 13, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

I’m not a big fan of baseball. I rarely watch a game on television. However, I did have the chance to attend two live games, one in Atlanta and one in Baltimore. I have to admit that I did enjoy the live games. I suppose that if I lived in a big city and could afford it, I would go to live games. I did learn another important truth – how much you enjoy the game depends upon where you sit. In Atlanta, we sat in the cheap seats, but in Baltimore, we had better seats. Still, as I looked up at the VIP boxes around the stadium, I knew that they had the best seats in the house.
St. Paul said that we are in the VIP box and have the best seats in the house. “[God]…has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.”(Ephesians 2:6) In all my years of reading this passage, I never quite understood it. I understand that St. Paul is filling out the meaning of the death and resurrection of Christ. We are buried with Him in baptism, and with Christ we are raised to a new life. Since Christ ascended to the Father and sits at His right hand, we too have been taken up to sit in heavenly places. The problem for me is that St. Paul talks as if this is supposed to be a present reality and not something that will happen when we die. Well I don’t think that I’ve ever felt like I was sitting that high. It would be wonderful to sit in a heavenly place and see life from a different point of view, but most of time I see life from the cheap seats.
Here’s how life looks from the cheap seats: I don’t deserve this; why am I sick; this is not right; this is not fair; I deserve better; I can’t believe that this is happening to me; why did my loved one die; and so on. In the cheap seats you find people filled with anger, fear, resentment, and there is little peace there. “But the man who is discontent with his lot and murmurs against his fate, or against those who cause him offence, should realize that his spirit is in a state of pride, which has taken from him his sense of gratitude towards God.”
St. Silouan tells us what it is like to sit in the best seats: “Life is much easier for the man who is given over to the will of God, since in illness, in poverty, in persecution he reflects thus: “Such is God’s pleasure, and I must endure on account of my sins.” So, sitting in a heavenly place doesn’t mean that you are free from suffering; it means that you see it from a different angle. “The proud man does not want to live according to God’s will: he likes to be his own master and does not see that man has not wisdom enough to guide himself without God.” Because we do not submit to the will of God in much and rely on our own understanding, we see life from the cheap seats and it’s hard to enjoy the game.
We might be tempted to think that St. Silouan is being a bit cavalier about this. Listen to his witness: “Thus for many years have I suffered violent headaches, which are hard to bear but salutary because the soul is humbled through sickness. My soul longs to pray and keep vigil, but sickness hinders me because of my body’s demand for rest and quiet; and I besought the Lord to heal me, and the Lord hearkened not unto me. So, therefore, it would not have been salutary for me to have been cured.” We find it hard to understand how having migraine headaches could be salutary. Lest you think that Silouan is just resigned to his affliction because he lacks faith, he tells of many times when the Lord healed him. He did not doubt the healing power of God. If some ailment remained, he believed that God deemed it necessary for the ailment to remain for the sake of the Silouan’s salvation. This is seeing life from a heavenly place.
Imagine what it would be like if we submitted to the will of God and could sit in the VIP seats. “The soul that has come to … submit to His will, will live before Him in awe and love: in love, because the Lord is love; in awe, because we must go in fear of grieving God by some evil thought.” I get this, but how do you know if you are submitted to the will of God?
“Here is a sign: if you are distressed over anything it means that you have not fully surrendered to God’s will, although it may seem to you that you live according to His will. He who lives according to God’s will has no cares. If he has need of something, he offers himself and the thing he wants to God, and if he does not receive it, he remains as tranquil as if he had got what he wanted. The soul that is given over to the will of God fears nothing, neither thunder nor thieves nor any other thing. Whatever may come, ‘Such is God’s pleasure,’ she says. If she falls sick she thinks, ‘This means that I need sickness, or God would not have sent it…and in this wise is peace preserved in soul and body…The best thing of all is to surrender to God’s will and bear affliction having confidence in God. The Lord, seeing our affliction, will never give us too much to bear. If we seem to ourselves to be greatly afflicted, it means that we have not surrendered to the will of God.”
Sometimes you can tolerate the game of life from the cheap seats, but it’s better to sit in the VIP box. Christ has prepared a seat there for you and for me and He invites us to come and sit with Him in His Kingdom. It’s a matter of surrender and submission to the will of God. What was it that the Master said? “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” How did St. Silouan say it? “Keep thy mind in hell, and despair not.” Obviously, St. Siloan sits in the VIP box.
What a view from up here! Batter Up and Play Ball!
The sayings of St. Silouan were taken from the website http://www.orthodoxinfo.com/praxis/willofgod.aspx

Laying with dogs

Published
by
frjohn
on November 7, 2009
in Orthodox Life, Podvig - Spiritual Struggle and Relationships
. 4 Comments

Laying With Dogs

My mom use to tell me, “If you lay down with dogs, you get up with fleas.” She told me this because she didn’t like the company I was keeping. I have to admit that I often ran with dogs and ended up with fleas. Yet, I found that it is not always a bad thing to be in the company of dogs.

Lazarus laid at the gates of Dives, the rich man. Day after day, he begged for bread and Dives ignored him. The Lord doesn’t give us any reasons why the rich man was so hard hearted. It seems that Lazarus never complained about his situation or cursed the rich man for his hard heart. No one else seemed to help him either.

Is this story without any charity at all? Well, charity can come from unusual sources. It seems that only the dogs had compassion, for they licked Lazarus’ sores. This may sound gross, but it was an act of mercy because it kept the sores clean and free of infection. It’s such an incredible contrast: the rich man with a poor heart, and the poor dogs with big hearts. Who knows, maybe all dogs do go to heaven.

How hard hearted can we be? Would you tend to believe someone that had just returned from the dead? The brothers of Lazarus wouldn’t believe it because they had refused to believe Moses or the Prophets. They would never believe a dead man come to life. I’m glad that we modern folks are not so hard-hearted. Oh wait! We did hear from someone who came back from death. Did we believe Him?

What makes us so hard hearted that we never see Lazarus? It’s a matter of perspective, really. We never see it from dog’s level.

First, we pay our taxes and the state runs the welfare system, and so we rarely see a beggar. But does it have to be a man lying by our door? There are so many around us, even in our church, who hurt and cry and beg for love, but we do not see them. We are not at dog level.

Then, we believe that since we have a welfare system, anyone who sits by the interstate exit begging for bread is just lazy and chooses not to work. I’ve had the experience of being chased by a beggar who would not be refused. I thought that if he had the strength to chase me, he had the strength to work. Of course, I was sure that he would just spend it on booze. I was not at dog level.

Finally, we are building the ancient tower of Babel. Science and technology promise to open the gates of paradise, where there will be no sickness or hunger, and we are true believers. I remember the day when the Challenger Shuttle exploded. We were sitting in a pizza restaurant watching a big screen TV. What a shock it was. It was a tragic loss, but to me this event was a bit of an icon. It reminded me that no matter how high we build our towers, we are not gods and our technology will not make it so. And so, we are blinded by our own cleverness and we rarely see Lazarus starving in agony at our gates. Jesus said that the poor would always be with us. Our cleverness keeps us from seeing things from the dog level.

To lie with the dogs means that we see the world through the eyes of humility. Lazarus kept the company of dogs and learned humility. He kept a soft heart and ended up in the bosom of Abraham (that is a soft place for soft hearts). The hard heart of Dives led him to hell.

Lord, may I forever lie with the dogs and lick the wounds of Lazarus.

P.S. To the aficionados of grammar, I understand the lie/lay situation. I just wanted to play with it and quote it as my mother
quoted it to me.

Sitting on the Ash Pile

Published
by
frjohn
on October 28, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

Let’s be honest. Whether you are Orthodox or not, there are times when life really sucks. At such moments, we wonder where God is and why He allows bad things to happen to “good” people. The philosopher Hume once said that the question of evil is the hook upon which all philosophy comes to hang. It seems that when bad things happen to us, we are often too ready to hang our faith on the same hook.

This scripture lesson came up the other day: “We would not have you ignorant, brethren, of the trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed beyond measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life.” (2Corinthians 1.8) “Despaired even of life”- now that must have been a really bad situation. I’ve been in some tough spots, but never any that bad. Why w ould God let such things happen to his chosen disciples? I can understand some sacrifice, some opposition, and a few nights in jail, but to despair of life? Isn’t that a bit much?

For philosophers, the Book of Job has never answered the question of the nature and origin of evil. Job, the righteous, not only suffered the loss of all of his material possessions and bodily health, he lost seven children in one night. In his terrible grief, he sat on an ash heap while his friends tried to comfort him by engaging in a theological debate. Certainly, since God is just and only punishes the wicked, they argue, Job must have committed some sin which resulted in his punishment. Job protested that he is innocent and doesn’t deserve such treatment. At the end of the Book, God makes an appearance and you think that we will finally get the answer to the experience of suffering.

Let me paraphrase the next part. God asks Job that if he had been around when He created the universe, could he have advised God on where to put the stars or how to set the bounds of the sea. Job replies that he could not have advised God.  God then concludes that even if he explained evil and suffering to Job, he wouldn’t understand it.

All right, I get it, but it doesn’t satisfy my intellect at all. Then Job says something interesting: “I’ve heard about you, but now I see you with my own eyes. Therefore, lI abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42) As I said before, this is not an answer that satisfies the philosopher, but it satisfies the Christian. It is the Presence that resolves all issues. It also gave meaning to the experience of St. Paul in Asia. “We had the sentence of death in us, so that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raises the dead…” I marvel at this statement and at the faith and understanding it exhibits. Again, this doesn’t explain why bad things happen, but it shows that when the Lord lives in our hearts, there is deeper meaning and purpose to all of life, including the bad times.

You learn this lesson when you stand beside a widow during a funeral reception. People come forward and say some of the worst things you could say in a situation like that. I know that they want to try and console the widow because they love her. I also know that they want the grieving to stop because most of us are uncomfortable in the presence of grief. We just feel that there must be something that we can say that will help. In the presence of profound grief, theological debates will have not resolve the pain. It is the Presence that makes the difference, and so, you stand by the widow and say nothing. You endure the uncomfortable feeling of helplessness, and your continued silent presence does more to comfort than any word that you could say.

We need not hang on the hook of Hume because there is One that hung on a Cross. He is with us even when we despair of life, and gives meaning to the ash pile.

Drag-net

Published
by
frjohn
on October 8, 2009
in Orthodox Life
. 0 Comments


I don’t know if you like to do it, but my wife loves to fish. Her idea of heaven is sitting by a creek or pond and wetting a hook. I don’t have the patience for it. I once brought her a fly rod. Now some people think this is a great sport, but I don’t get it. Why do I want to stand in cold water and try my best to land a fake fly in front of a fish in such a way that the fish will bite it? Are you kidding? Deep-sea fishing is more my style: throw it in, wham, and pull it out. Then repeat and repeat for hours.

Doesn’t the word "evangelism" make you nervous? I think of flashy big hair preachers with make-up laden wives pleading for souls. So, when Jesus says we are to be fishers of men, it makes me a bit nervous. I think I have to be a theologian, or a flashy preacher, or a miracle worker, or at least good looking! I mean if I have to fish for men like fly fisherman do for trout, then there’s no way that I’m even going to attempt it. I’m just not smart enough to do it on my own. So, I think I’ll let an expert fish for men.

Well then, there’s good news for us reluctant fishers of men. The Lord doesn’t plan to give us a fly rod to fish with. In fact, he’s going to hand us a net and a big one at that. When Jesus spoke to the Peter and Andrew, they were casting nets. Now that’s how to fish. Through it in and drag it out and count the fish! Of course, Peter and Andrew weren’t the only ones in the boat. It takes a good crew to get the net out and to haul it back in.

So, relax. You don’t have to be a great talker, a deep thinker, a scholar, or even a skilled fisher of men. Oh, it’s good if you have these skills, but all that’s required is that you are in the boat and pull with the rest of the sailors. Don’t expect the priest and his family to be the only ones at the net. It takes the entire church with each one doing his part to make a successful run. How do we make the great Gospel net? We join hand to hand in love and in service. We live the Christian life together and strive to realize the Life of Christ in all its fullness. We drag the net, and the Lord brings the fish to the net.

So, not much skill is needed, but faith, courage and a strong back. I guess that’s why the Lord chose fisherman because they have strong backs (and idiots like me). They know how to work through plenty and want. They never give up because perhaps today, there will be an abundance of fish. You never know until you cast the net.  We should all find our place on the boat because there’s nothing harder than to look back for your fishing companions, only to find that some have gone below to take a nap.

"I will make you fishers of men", the Lord said. We don’t have to be skilled fly fishermen. Just grab the net, my friends, and pull. Pulling with us are Patriarchs, Archbishops, bishops, clergy, monastics and many loving souls.  Once we were caught in the great Orthodox net and so the fish now become fishermen. .

May God helps us to work together to cast the net, to be patient as the net does its work, and then to pull with all of our might. If we don’t catch anything today, then tomorrow is just another day to fish.

Light Mind

Published
by
frjohn
on September 12, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 1 Comment


There is an interesting book titled “The Name of the Rose”, written by Umberto Eco. It tells the story of a 14th century Franciscan monk who comes to a monastery which is plagued by a series of murders. Of course, William of Baskerville is a brilliant mind and he has to solve the murders.

The reason for the murders is most interesting. Apparently, someone had brought in documents that contained the “New Teaching”; that is, the writings of Aristotle. These writings had been forbidden by the Vatican to be distributed or taught. In the story, Benedictine piety forbade humor or laughter because they believed that it produced light-mindedness and irreverence. Benedict said, “For it is a fool who lifts up his voice in laughter.” Aristotle, on the other hand, taught that laughter was a good thing and most helpful in moral living. The Benedictine hierarchy could not allow this to get out, so when monks read the documents, murder occurred to stop them from telling others what they had read.

Is humor and laughter unspiritual? As most of you know, from painful personal experience, I tend to look at the humorous side of things. I suppose that this makes me more Aristotelian than Benedictine. Now, I recognize that humor can go too far, that it can be demeaning and even used as a weapon against others. Yet, I often find it helpful in establishing relationships, in overcoming barriers, or in illustrating a point. Of course, I’m sure that it soothes my ego and makes me feel good about myself, but I also believe that there is a difference between enjoying good humor and being light-minded.

In the Gospel of St. Matthew, Chapter 22, Jesus tells the story of a great king who goes to great pains to create a wonderful banquet. What a wonderful, incredible, and terrifying thing it must be to attend such a feast. Most of us have been to parties, but few of us have been invited to dine with a king. You can just picture the setting, the richness of the food, the aromas, and the fine wine.

Now, imagine getting an invitation to such an event, and then refusing to go. How could they have refused a King? Jesus said that they “made light of it.” Made light of it? How could you make light of such an invitation. After all, not only would it have been the best feast ever, the King was all powerful and his word was law! To refuse such an invitation could have dire consequences. How could anyone make light of such an invitation?

On the first read, it is clear that the Jews understood that the story applied to them. Yet, haven’t you and I been invited by the great King to his feast? And I am sure that you and I would never make light of it. In the story, the people went to their farms or their merchandise. Well, don’t we excuse ourselves when any demand of life and family, any chance of entertainment or diversion comes our way? We may not make jokes about the things of God, but in truth we are very light-minded about them.

You might object that you make it to church quite often; therefore this story does not apply to you. Oh, not so fast. Being light-minded doesn’t always result in being absent. In the story, the King asks the man why he had no garment. In ancient days, a King would have garments available for his guests, so that no one would feel ashamed because they were under-dressed. So, there was no excuse and the King had his servants show the poor man the door. We can show up for Church, but we are improperly dressed. In our light-mindedness, we are most naked. It always surprises the King when he sees us in attendance and so unprepared.

How can we properly dress for the Feast? We can pray the Prayers of Preparation. We can read about the saint or feast that is being celebrated. We can read the Scripture lessons for the service and study them. We can attend Vigil (or Vespers and Orthos) and make our confession so that our garment is clean and ready for the Feast. Above all, the Saints tell us that the most prominent feature of the Wedding Garment is that it is made of love. Yet this is not the light-minded love of the world, it is love that forgives enemies and seeks to be a servant to everyone.

The alternative is to stand in Church with a light mind –with little idea of what is being said or chanted. We fail to enter into the richness of the feast because with no wedding garment, we did not dare approach the Banqueting Table. We leave little better off than when we came. It’s as if the King told his servants to bind our minds, and we walk out into the dark world “where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Someday, this story will take on a frightening reality when the King returns and we find ourselves with no garments to wear.

Dear brothers and sisters, the invitation is still open. The Feast has been prepared. Wedding garments are still available.

Got something better to do?

PS:  the picture is Clem Kadiddlehopper, a character played by the great comedian, Red Skelton. I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Skelton in the 1980s when I attended Duke University. We sat and talked for over an hour. He was a real gentleman, and a funny, funny man.

I’ve Got Rhythm!!

Published
by
frjohn
on September 6, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 3 Comments

Let’s review a bit of American history (don’t worry, it will be painless). In the past, American men and women went into the wilderness to start new communities. There were Shakers and the Oneida community, the Mormons, the Bruderhofs, the Ephrata communities, and one might even include the various Amish and Mennonite groups. The original Pilgrims came to the New World in hopes of establishing a new community. This isn’t just a past phenomenon. In recent years, we saw the establishment of communes, some secular and some religious. Some of them were benign, but some ended in tragedy (David Koresh and Jim Jones).

Actually, the desire for community has been with us since the beginning of human history. In our hearts, we hold to a hope that a new lifestyle might restore a bit of paradise and give life more meaning and purpose. Certainly, when you read the writings of St. Paul, you find him working, struggling, pleading and praying for community. To him, it was the Body of Christ in the world and he told us that we should never forsake it. What did a Christian community look like in those days?

In the last chapter of 1 Corinthians, St. Paul refers to Priscilla and Aquila. From both historical and archaeological studies, it is clear that Priscilla came from a wealthy Roman family. Her estate was on the “posh side” of Rome. Within the walls of her estate, she nurtured a house church and it was more than just a place to meet. Apparently Christians, of all ages and rank, lived in Priscilla’s compound. Archaeologists have unearthed graves that show the people from all the ranks of Roman society were buried there. It seems that people would sleep and eat there. During the day they would go out to do their work, but would return for the evening meal and worship. Now, that’s what I call a community.

From St. Paul’s writings, the theme of unity prevails as the essence of community. There was oneness of heart, and this meant that above all, love was the ground, the context, and the environment of Christian community. If love was present, then the next aspect of community followed naturally: unity of mind. Not only did they believe the same Creed, but they shared a common vision of what should happen next. With unity of heart and mind, the last thing followed easily – unity of activity, or the sharing of a common life.

I must admit that for most of my life, I have searched for community. I suppose I have been a utopian dreamer. I have seen this in action. The year I graduated from high school, 1969, Hurricane Camille hit our part of Virginia. Across the mountain, the people of Nelson County were swept away by walls of water and mudslides. They say that it rained 26 inches of water that night. The next morning, we many of us heard the news, we joined with the rescue squads and went over to try and find survivors. Many of us did what we could for as long as we could, but eventually, we had to return to work. The people who stayed were the Mennonites. It wasn’t a matter of desire; it was a matter of lifestyle. The Mennonite lifestyle gave many of them the freedom to stay and help.

One would think that the Orthodox Church would be the place where community would be a given. Sadly, this is not the case, at least not in the fullest sense. There are aspects of community, of course, but I believe that the lack of community has been the source of much grief among Orthodox Christians. Many times in the past, church members talked to me about their loneliness and sense of isolation, yet many of them were the most faithful workers and attendees. How is this possible?

Allow me acquaint you with a couple of terms that are used about monasteries. The words are “coenobitic” and “idiorhythmic.” The word “coenobitic” comes from the ancient Greek word “koinóbios” which means “a life in common, living together.” Later it comes to refer to monks living together and sharing a common life. (A side note: this seems to be an origin of the name Kenobi…as is Obi Wan Kenobi). The word “idiorhythmic” means that there is not a shared rhythm of life- everyone has their own rhythm. So a hermit or solitary would live an idiorhythmic life.

So far, it has been my experience that most Orthodox churches, at least in this country, are idiorhymic. Again, there are aspects of a common life: the Liturgy, trapeza, festivals, studies, etc. Yet, after these events, we return to own rhythm and on a daily basis, share little with the other members of our Church. We pattern our life after the demands of work, family, sport and cultural events, recreation, etc. Oh, we got rhythm, but it’s the rhythm of the world.

In Genesis, God establishes His rhythm in Creation. It says, “And the evening and the morning was the first day.” This is odd to us because our day begins in the morning and ends in the evening. God seems to have His day backwards! The Church has tried to maintain the rhythm of God in the way in which it worships. We do this because we know that the rhythm of God’s activity will bring salvation to our lives. So, the Church day begins in the evening at Vespers and ends the following morning with the conclusion of the Liturgy. Being attuned to the rhythm of the world, we are sure that the Church day begins on Sunday morning.

Here is where the battle is waged. The world has its own rhythm, and this rhythm does not lead to holiness or salvation, but to death. The rhythm of the world is very powerful and very subtle and we struggle between the rhythm of the world and the rhythm of the Church. One example would be the services on Saturday night. It’s the same everywhere and no jurisdiction is exempt– to be in church on a Saturday night just doesn’t seem to fit the rhythm of American life, and so the Church is usually almost empty for Vespers or Vigil.

What can we do? Again, St. Paul gives us some clues in the last chapter of 1st Corinthians. First, watch! It is important that we see and understand how the rhythm of the world can takes over life. Then, stand fast. We need to understand unity is a gift of the Spirit, but we must stand fast and not be moved from it. We must stand against the compromise demanded by the rhythm of life. Then, be strong. The struggle against the rhythm of the world is a powerful struggle, and the weak will have great difficulty overcoming it. We need to pray for the strength to fight this battle.

I’m not saying that we need to sell our houses and all move in together, but surely there are ways that each of us could begin to have a better sense of God’s rhythm, a rhythm that we share with the other members of our Church community. It is also vital that we get our children to have rhythm, because once they are attuned to the rhythm of the world, it will be difficult to get them to Church when they get older.

I hope you got rhythm, but I hope it is the right one. It’s up to us really.

Almond Joy Orthodoxy

Published
by
frjohn
on September 4, 2009
in Orthodox Life and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 16 Comments

Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t!

“He is mad…” John 10.20  “We are fools…” I Corinthians 4:10

People tell me that they have a hard time crossing themselves in public or even praying over a meal. Strangers will stare and sometimes shake their heads or even laugh while making comments to their friends. It is difficult because it seems that our society is bent on removing all references to God from the public realm. Being Orthodox today can make you feel like a “fish out of water.”

You should be with me on a Friday night when I walk into Wal-mart. Being a Russian priest, I am dressed in my black prodrasnik , ryassa and skufia (long robes with big sleeves and a black hat). With my long white hair and white beard, I am quite a sight. People have never seen anything like me. The reaction can go something like this: “Hey, Bubba, take a look at that! Is that a woman? Of course, if I have a chance to talk to them, I try to make them feel more at ease with humor. Lifting up my cross, I tell them that I am a “cross dresser.” That usually breaks the ice.

We might as well face that fact that if we try to live the Orthodox life, people will think we are foolish or crazy. Yet, what is better – to be a fool or to be crazy?

In his book, Hesychia and Theology , His Grace, Hierotheos, Metropolitan of Nafpaktos, writes “According to the patristic meaning of the word, everyone is a psychopath, that is to say, his soul is sick….For the psychiatrist, the psychopath means…he is suffering from a psychosis: a schizophrenic. From the Orthodox standpoint, however, it is someone who has not undergone purification of the passions or attained illumination…” (pg.26) You see, we are all “crazy.”

Given the dreams and ambitions of this life, what would you think of a person who would describe his life in this way and says that he is committed to it: “I am hungry and thirsty and I have bad clothes. I have no home to live in and people assault me. I do manual labor all the time, but people call me names. I try to be nice to people, but they curse at me. People think I am trash, and they treat me like crap.” Anyone in his right mind would never intentionally embrace such a life. He must be mad, indeed. Maybe with some career training or crisis intervention, he could take on a different career path. The world is full of possibilities for a man with ambition and intelligence. Why should anyone intentionally live such a life unless they are mad or foolish?

The man who said this is St. Paul. I’m glad that he didn’t take on a new career path. His job description was “fool for Christ”, and he took it on gladly because he knew it was better to be a fool than to be a psychopath, for only a fool can reach those who are sick in soul.

One of my favorite movies is “Quo Vadis.” Towards the end, they take St. Peter to Vatican Hill to crucify him. He demands that they crucify him upside down because he is not worthy to be crucified as the Lord was crucified. After he has been nailed to the cross, they put the crucifix in the ground upside down. St. Peter remarks that now he can see the world as it really is. It might do most of us a lot of good to go out on the porch and stand on our heads. Then maybe we could see the world as it truly is and understand the depth of its madness.

If we practice piety in public, we feel foolish. Wanting to be respectable and fit in, we are loathe to practice piety where others will see us and criticize us. I once heard Fr. Daniel Byantoro, an Orthodox priest from Indonesia, say that the conversation between Muslims might go something like this: “Muhammad, do Christians pray?” “I don’t know, Kareem, I’ve never seen them pray. Have you?” “Mohammad, do Christians fast?” “I don’t know, Kareem, I’ve never seen them fast. Have you?” “I wonder, Mohammad, if they believe in God at all.” “Kareem, there is no way to tell.”

Now, it is against the law to try to convert Muslims to Christianity, but Fr. Daniel says that they are beginning to have greater success. How is this possible? Well, each day Fr. Daniel goes into the bell tower and calls the Christians to come and pray the Hours.The Muslims are amazed. Then when they come to visit, they are shocked. “You prostrate! Allah be praised. Your women cover their heads and are modest. Allah be praised. You fast…what….180 days of the year? Impossible! That is more than we do.” By the practice of piety, the power of the Faith is made real to them.

Why do I wear my robe in public? Well, of course, I am required to do so, but I’ve actually made converts that way. Sitting in a MacDonald’s or walking in a Home Depot, people will ask me who I am and why do I dress this way. Entering into a conversation, I always invite them to Church. Sometimes, they end up becoming members. I’ll be honest -sometimes I feel foolish out in the world in my priestly ensemble. Yet, I know that there is no way to live the faith in this culture and not be considered foolish by family, friends, and co-workers. Soon, we will approach Nativity and the world will “prepare” by throwing parties. They will think we are fools for not joining in and we will feel foolish for not doing so.

Its Almond Joy Orthodoxy: sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t. I know that it is a balance because the Lord told us to pray in our closets and do our good work in secret. Yet, He also said that we should let our lights shine before men so that they could see our good works, and glorify God. Somewhere, between those two commands, we can find our Orthodox lifestyle, a life of piety.

Still, when it’s all said and done, it’s better to be fool than a psychopath!

Abandon Despair!

Published
by
frjohn
on June 29, 2009
in Uncategorized
. 5 Comments

If the light in you is darkness, how great is that darkness. Matthew 6:23

The Fathers say that it is a great danger to spiritual life. Once you fall into it, it is very difficult to climb out. It frequently comes up in confession, and as a spiritual advisor, it is one of the most difficult spiritual states to cure. The Fathers called it “acedia.” (Pronounced “ah see dee ah”) Today, we call this passion “despair.” Truly, when the only light in you is despair, how great is that darkness.

Despair attacks the will and this is how this passion gains its power. With the will weakened, it is difficult to be healed. After all, to pray requires will; to fast requires will; to read or study requires will. It is a bad situation when “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”, but when both the spirit and the flesh are weak, it is a dire situation. Despair begins to strengthen as it feeds upon itself. When despair is strongest, hope is lost. We feel separated from God and begin to wonder if God even exists. We are dead and lying in the darkness of the grave. Life without hope is hell on earth, and a foretaste of eternal life apart from God. It is with great insight that Dante wrote about the sign that hangs over the entrance to hell: Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

How does this passion work in us? The first temptation is disappointment -we feel with certainty that nothing has gone as we wanted. The second temptation is irritation and anger- we wonder why has God done this to me? Disappointment comes upon us and turns to a sorrow that deepens into despair. This entire process is fueled by an inner voice that says, “I deserved better. If God really loved me, he would not have let this happen. ” Profound sadness convinces us that there is no hope. When hope is gone, there is only despair.

I have rarely met anyone who, once they came to know Orthodoxy fully, abandoned it because their theological studies proved the Faith to be wrong. However, I have known Orthodox people who have lost their faith in God because they felt cheated of the things that they had wanted. In their despair, they quit their spiritual disciplines and soon the light of faith and hope was gone, and they left the church. Somehow, they forgot the old joke – If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.

Obviously, the cure for despair is hope. Hope and despair cannot exist in the same space. Yet, you might protest: “How can I have hope? After all, I’ve been profoundly disappointed and how can I believe that it will be any different in the future? Hope has to be based on something, so what assurances do I have?”

The best assurance we have is love. Let me ask you, how do you know when someone really, truly loves you? Would it be in what they say to you, or by the things they give you? Suppose that someone dies for you, would you believe it then? Most of us would die for someone we really loved. We might even die for a good person. But who would willingly die for an evil man? Would you die for Hitler, or Stalin, or Pol Pot?

Here’s the thing! Jesus died for Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot. He died for you and me, even though we lived as God’s enemies. Do you understand this? Do you see the mystery of this love? Isn’t this the ground upon which all hope stands? No matter how you feel, and especially if you feel despair, you must be convinced of God’s love. It is only when you are convinced that you have a solid place to stand, a place that no passion can move or destroy.This solid conviction is called faith and faith is the energy of hope.

With faith and hope, something wonderful happens. The dynamic of life begins to change. Failures and tribulations are no longer meaningless events. Hope doesn’t mean that troubles will end, but when failures and tribulations come, instead of disappointment, hope creates patience. With patience, we begin to gain experience, so that new problems do not move us to disappointment. Hope is strengthened until we reach a level of hopefulness that will never make us ashamed. Hope is so powerful that we even hope to see the glory of God. (Romans 5)

Hope is one aspect of the presence of the life of Christ in our hearts. Consider this: if His death did so much for us, how much will his life accomplish for us? His death reconciled us to God and His life will save us. Honestly, I haven’t progressed so far in 15 years. Of course, I see improvements, buy I also see the passions that remain in me. I could despair, but I don’t because I have hope that His life will save me. After all, He brought me to faith, and He will finish me! His life has saved millions before me, and it will save millions after me. What makes me think that I’m such a hard case that God will disdain me and abandon me? I may be a wretch but my wretchedness is not beyond recovery. My sin is great, but His love and mercy is like an ocean that I cannot fathom.

If you are in despair, realize that your despair is based on untruth. Your situation is not hopeless, no matter how you feel. The way out begins with trust in the One who died for you. Trust is the essence of faith, and the evidence of what we cannot see. It is not about how you feel, but what you believe. It isn’t that you will never know sorrow again, but by faith and hope, your sorrow will be turned into joy. Jesus said that the storms of life will beat against everyone’s house. The house that does not fall before the storm is the one built on the right foundation.

After all, if God so clothes the grass of the field and feeds the birds of the air, will he not do even more for you? As Jesus said, “your heavenly Father knows that you have need of all these things.” Aren’t you worth so much more than grass or birds? And what do you accomplish by projecting your fears into the future? You Father knows what you need, so let you mind rest on today and forget tomorrow. (Matthew 5-7)

I have a suggestion. Let’s put a new sign over the door of our Churches. Let it say, “Abandon all despair, you who enter here. ”

Nobody Bothers Me!

Published
by
frjohn
on June 16, 2009
in Orthodox Life and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 10 Comments

Several weeks ago, my son and I went to see several friends test for their black belt in Taekwondo. On the testing floor were about 30 people of all shapes and sizes, ages and genders. I was amazed at the energy and dedication displayed. I wondered at the many hours spent in instruction and the hours spent at home practicing. It was truly inspiring. Even more, I surprised to see Jhoon Rhee arrive for the test. Considered the “Father of American Taekwondo” and now in his late 80s, I first saw him on a television commercial in the 1960s. He is a truly impressive man who teaches the Bible and believes in the human capacity to excel and overcome all obstacles. Of course, I was very impressed when I saw him do a flexibility move that three-fourths of the class could not do. I got to chat with him during the break (well, being in my cassock, I drew his attention and he was curious). I remarked about his commercial and that I remember that at the end, two cute little kids winked at the TV audience and said, “Nobody bothers me.” He laughed and said that those kids were now 50 years old. Oh no!

As I sat there watching the test, it all seemed a bit odd to me. After all, what did these people get for of all of this blood, sweat and tears? Practically, they got a piece of black cloth to wear around their middle. Now, this black cloth certainly signifies a great accomplishment, but it also signifies a rather odd arrangement. Black belts have mastered a skill, but it is a skill they have vowed to never use, except to maintain the right. I don’t mean to minimize the accomplishment at all, but on the surface, it did seem like a lot for a little. Well, thus saith the couch potato.

Then it hit me! What we need are belts for Orthodoxy. Think of all of the money that these people had spent, the hours in training, the exercising, the pain, and the fatigue – all so that they could wear colored
cloth around their middles. Then take the Orthodox – little money to give, poor in training, lax in exercising,
little focus, avoidance of pain, and only fatigued at the length of the service. By comparison, what would the Orthodox gain for their effort? Why only the Kingdom of God and life eternal, but what is that compared to a colored cloth around the middle?

Yet, maybe, if we began to measure our progress and awarded belts in the Church, things would change. Priests would need to be like Jhoon Rhee and inspire the group by instilling in their minds that we believe absolutely in the realization of their perfection. They would  let folks know that they demanded commitment and effort and perfect attendance. We would put them through difficult exercises to strengthen their hearts with spiritual discipline. We would focus their minds with prayer.  Becoming breathless from the effort, they would return for more and say that they actually enjoyed it! As Orthodox people advanced in their spiritual life, we could award them with colored cloth. Finally, the day would come when we would give them the big test, and if they passed, we could award them the Orthodox black belt. What do you think?

Though this piece is a bit of ironic humor, there is in the heart of most Orthodox priests that I know a longing for the day when people will advance in their spiritual life. At the moment, most of us are white belts, and mere beginners.  Priests hear of how they are being beaten up by the world, the flesh, and the devil. Sadly, though some of them have been white belts and have been coming to the “dojo” for a long time, they just don’t seem to be able to defend themselves or advance to the next belt level. Priests long for the day when they can award people with a different colored belt and say to them, “well done – now strive for the next level.” Most of all, we work and strive and pray for the day when we will put a black belt around them. Then they can say with blessed assurance, “No body bothers me!”

I wish I had a church filled with such black belt Orthodox warriors! (I noticed that monks wear black belts. Hmmmm…)