Archive for the 'Orthodox Life' Category

Where Do I Begin?

Published
by
frjohn
on June 1, 2010
in Orthodox Life and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 3 Comments

Ok, so you have to reach back for this one. There was this movie called “Love Story” which was made in 1970. Ali McGraw and Ryan O’Neal were the main actors. I was 18 years old and I remember thinking that it was a pretty sappy movie. One nugget of wisdom served as a hallmark of the story. Ryan did something stupid (as men are prone to do) and realizing his mistake, he apologized to Ali. She replied, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Even at 18, I thought “Oh, really? If you love someone, you never need to apologize?” It just didn’t seem right to me and many of my peers made fun of it. Even Ryan O’Neal made fun of it in a movie he made after Love Story. It’s necessary and healing to apologize. I would hate to be in a relationship where I never had a chance to check my pride and say “I’m sorry.”

If the Orthodox followed this advice, then our constant apology (confession) to God would either means that God doesn’t love us or we don’t love God. Love means never having to say you’re sorry-this axiom is foolishness, but it’s made me how much we base our love for God on a romantic model. For example, I hear often hear someone say that they have lost their passion or their zeal for God. For them, Orthodox life has become dry, boring, and routine. Such a person will even ponder if converting to Orthodoxy was the right thing to do. After all the promises made by Orthodoxy about spiritual life, where was the zeal they once had? Where is the passion of their first love?

Marriage counselors speak about a moment in all relationships when the romantic bubble pops. This is called the “domestic moment.” At this moment, you look at your wife and think, “Oh no! She’s just like her mother.” You look at your husband and think, “Oh no! He’s just like his father.” Passion has disappeared and it’s a moment of real crisis in a relationship. It can happen in a year, or two, or even in seven years. If a couple does not understand that this is a natural part of the process, they will suffer. With patience and forgiveness, eventually passion will return. Some people never figure this out and the result is divorce. Even after their third or fourth marriage, some folks can’t live beyond the domestic moment. Our poetry, music and art have convinced us that love is feeling. The Righteous Brothers warned us how terrible it is when “you’ve lost that lovin’ feeling.”

If a couple passes this crisis point, the relationship will deepen and come to rest on a solid foundation of love, friendship, and commitment. The couple will discover that feelings will come and go, and that’s all right. They learn that the quality of their relationship can never judged on how they are feeling at any particular moment. Love is measured by commitment. I would say that if no feeling of love has appeared in months, then there may be a problem that needs to be addressed.

We seem to have the same problem with faith. Entering into the Faith, we are enchanted with and passionate about Holy Orthodoxy. It’s a true spiritual (romantic) bubble and it’s a wonderful place to be. Then, inevitably the bubble pops and the once beautiful Bride who seemed so exotic and enticing is now the Old Lady who tells us to stand in vigils, repeat the same prayers over and over, and fast. Surely, we didn’t sign on for this and we wonder if this is all there is or ever will be. It’s a moment of spiritual “domestic moment” and many fall away because they don’t feel anything. Rest assured that at such times our spiritual enemies are ready to parade before us all kinds of interesting and entertaining enticements to get us away from our first love so that we can feel once again.

We must learn to be patient and allow our faith and obedience, and not our feelings, to become the bedrock of our Orthodox life. Consider these words from Jesus: “He that loves Father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that love son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” Ouch! Who do we love more that family? Do we really think that when Jesus talks about the love we have for family that he is speaking about our feelings? No, Jesus is putting love on a much higher plane than feelings.

Orthodox readers will forgive me, but I wanted to speak about Mother Theresa, once of the Catholic faith, now departed. In a book that appeared some time after her death, she spoke about her feelings towards God. She said that during her time as a novice (about two years), she felt many wonderful consolations from God. Then, the consolations left and never returned, not even once. Now consider the fact that she cared for the dying in streets of Calcutta for decades. How could she have embraced such a difficult life without the reward of at least some small consolation from God? I think that she knew that loving God was not about feeling. It was about faith, obedience and commitment. If this is really the case, then she loved God more than most of us.

I wish that Orthodox Christians would quickly get past their domestic moment so that they can become the true friends of God. Again the Lord told us, “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” His Grace, Hierotheos Vlachos said that a Saint is someone who is a friend of God. Friendship with God is the hallmark of holiness. We might have thought that being a saint meant that you are swept up by a mighty wave of passion about the Lord that carries you to the Kingdom. No, the love of a friend for a friend is not Eros –burning passion and zeal. It is an abiding love that keeps the commitment strong and carries the friendship over the years ahead. Even if a friend disappoints you or belittles you, you remain committed. This is true friendship and the Lord showed his friendship even to those who abandoned him. He remained faithful and true even to the Cross.

The wonderful feelings of your First Love for God will return and  leave again, return and leave, return and leave. This cycle will repeat many times because the Lord watches to see if we will stand and remain a friend of God when his consolation is absent. The Lord knows that dry times are difficult, but watches to see if we will slip away again and go running after other pleasures that promises to make us feel better, or we will remain the friends of God and trust in His love and stand on our Faith and not on our feelings.

Our relationship to God is a love story. We must deepen our understanding of what love is and how it is experienced. We need a firm conviction that God love’s us whether we feel it or not. This is how it was for all the saints.  Feelings come and feelings go. So be it. I will remain a committed friend of God no matter what I feel.

Laying with dogs

Published
by
frjohn
on November 7, 2009
in Orthodox Life, Podvig - Spiritual Struggle and Relationships
. 5 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.

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.

Almond Joy Orthodoxy

Published
by
frjohn
on September 4, 2009
in Orthodox Life and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 17 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!

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…)

Furniture Mover

Published
by
frjohn
on May 9, 2009
in Orthodox Life, Pascha and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 5 Comments

During the Sundays after Pascha, we hear about the ways people respond to the Resurrection. On Thomas Sunday, we found that some respond with doubt. In the Myrrh-bearing women, some respond by becoming servants to the Body of Christ. Today, we will find that another response is to become furniture movers.

This is the way St. Bede sees it. Thirty eight years is a long time to suffer from paralysis. He finds the number 38 to of interest. It is two less than perfection. Multiply 10 (for the Ten Commandments) by 4 (for the Four Gospels), and you get the number 40 which represents the full number of virtues. Yet, we lack two virtues which give us the number 38. What do we lack? As we lay on the bed of our vices, we are devoid of the love of God and of our neighbor.

To find healing, we must move the furniture.

First, the Lord said “Rise!” Simply, there’s not going to be any healing if we continue to roll about in our beds. I know the bed is comfortable. We become use to it and in many ways the bed has become a part of our personality. Yet, if there is to be healing, we must throw off the covers and place our feet on the floor and stand up. Can we do it? Yes, if we have faith in the power of the Lord’s command. After all, didn’t His command still the winds and calm the seas?

Second, the Lord said “take up your bed.” St. Bede’s take on this may surprise you. He wrote that to take up your bed means that you are to “lovingly carry your neighbor, by tolerating his weakness.” I leave behind my sins by rising up and now I carry my bed by bearing the burdens of others. Well, this is different, but how else can it be? Would the Lord have me carry the bed of my old sins? If so, then I would continue to be a slave to them. St. Paul reminds us that it is by bearing the burdens of others that I fulfill the Law of Christ. I forget this truth and I believe that I must be a martyr. After all, I carry such a heavy load of my own stuff.

Third, the Lord commands that I am to “walk.” Here, St. Bede tells us that this means to love God. Therefore, walking involves loving God with the heart, mind, soul, and strength. He puts it this way: Walk…”so that you may be worthy to reach the vision of Him. Go forward by making daily strides of good works from virtue to virtue. Do not desert your brother…nor turn aside from the right direction of your path…In everything that you do, see to it that you do not fix your mind upon this world, but that you hurry to see the face of your Redeemer.”

The end result was that the man became well, took up his bed, and went on walking. Well, as always, it’s up to us. We can lie around and hope that someday, all the circumstances of life will line up and the timing will be just right. Then, we’ll get into the water and all will be well. It is a tragic attitude because we can lie on this bed for 38 years hoping to be the lottery winner. This kind of attitude reminds me of a calling card that a protestant minister once showed me. On the front was the all of the important contact information, but on the back was a picture of a man in a casket located at the front of the church. Under the picture were these words, “Well, he always said he’d get to church as soon as he got straightened out!”

We need wait no longer if we will rise, take up our bed, and walk.

Don’t you think it’s time to move some furniture?

The New Atlas

Published
by
frjohn
on May 2, 2009
in Orthodox Life and Podvig - Spiritual Struggle
. 3 Comments

He was a Titan who lead a rebellion against the Olympians. In his failure, he was made to hold up the sky on his shoulders. (He is often shown holding up the world, but this is incorrect) This would be his eternal punishment. Once, he almost tricked Hercules into holding up the sky for him, but Hercules saw through his scheme and was able to escape. Poor, heroic Atlas!

Carrying burdens seems to be an inescapable fact of life. Sometimes, the burdens are so heavy it feels like Atlas holding up the sky. I’ve carried heavy loads of wood or stone until my shoulders and arms and legs ached with the effort. I managed this weight because I knew I would soon set it down. The terror of the story of Atlas is the hopelessness of it, knowing that you can never set your burden down. The terror of my life is the feeling that there are some burdens I will never lay down.

Some one once referred to the 20th Century as the “Age of Anxiety.” When you read the history of that time, there was certainly much to be anxious about. I wonder if that tag continues to be applied to the 21st Century? Certainly, these are fearful times. The economy has crashed and our financial security has largely vanished. Now, we hear of impending pandemics and nuclear terrorism, and the level of anxiety is reaching new heights.

I was reading The Missionary Letters of St. Nikolai Velimirovich. In letter 59, he wrote to an American, John Davis, who had a deep fear about the population explosion of the human race. He wrote, “Of course, one who forgets God, takes God’s worries upon himself. And God’s worries are not something that weak human backs can carry.” What an interesting thought– fear makes us forget God, and by forgetfulness, we carry God’s worries. When this happens, we become the New Atlas– we take the sky upon our shoulders. Yet, we are not Titans and our backs cannot carry the load.

The most difficult thing about an emotional, physical, or spiritual burden is when, like Atlas, we have no hope of ever setting it down. Despair only adds to the weight of the load that we carry. It is no wonder that Christ taught us “Do not worry. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Enough for today is the evil thereof.” Even at His birth, the angels said “Fear not!”

The Lord says to all who would be like Atlas, “Come unto me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Cast your cares upon me…Take my yoke upon you, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Christ is the only true Atlas, and in his Cross, He took upon himself the full weight of the world. Weak sinner that I am, I’ve found that its easier to pull the yoke with Christ than to be an heroic Titan carrying the sky on my shoulders.

The heavy stone has been rolled away. Christ is Risen! Hey, Atlas! Lay that burden down!

Goat Boy

Published
by
frjohn
on February 22, 2009
in Lent, Orthodox Life, Podvig - Spiritual Struggle, Prayer and Relationships
. 2 Comments

Be honest! Do you really think about the second coming? After all, it’s been about 2,000 years, so why worry now? I don’t like thinking about judgment because I hate to accountable to anyone. I wish God would follow His own advice: don’t judge lest you be judged. God should be so loving and forgiving that he will just pass over all of it. Most people today seem to believe that when you die, you just walk into the warm light and all is well. Did anyone see the movie “Ghost?”

When you consider how fearfully the Bible portrays the end of all things, we it might do us good to consider what it will be like when we stand before the judgment seat of Christ. Certainly, the Church doesn’t teach that it’ll be all warm fuzzies and bright lights. The Lord said it would be a sheep and goats kind of experience. What does that mean and what’s the difference between sheep and goats anyway?

I looked it up and it’s not easy to tell them apart by outward appearance. Sheep say “baa” and goats say “maa.” Sheep have 54 chromosomes and goats have 60. Goats have a beard and divided upper lip, which sheep do not have. Sheep tails also hang down, even when short or docked, while the tails of goats are held upwards. Fascinating, isn’t it? But really, why do the goats get all the bad stuff?

Jesus can tell them apart. In his parable of the Judgment, he separates the two and gives us the distinguishing mark that divides them – compassion. Compassion? Oh, I wish he hadn’t of said that. Why can’t it be something else like how well I followed the rules, or kept the fast, or prayed, or how well I avoided gossip or turned from lustful thoughts?

Blessed Augustine said that we should not resist the first coming so that we will not dread the second. By first coming, does he mean when Christ was born and lived? No, he means that Christ first coming is when he comes to us in the poor, the imprisoned, the hungry, the thirsty, the homeless, etc. The measure of judgment will not be how well we kept the rules, but how much compassion we have in my heart, a compassion to moves us to action.

I must be a goat boy then, and this goat boy would like to ask, is this a fair way to judge? After all, I’ve been doing religious work for over 30 years. I’ve learned to do the services, I go to confession. I’ve prayed and fasted and stood in 3 hour vigils. Shouldn’t I be judge on my many achievements and compliments and sacrifices?

When I take an honest look at my so called achievements, they aren’t so great really. Most of what I’ve accomplished happened because I had a lot of people who loved me enough to help me succeed. What have I ever done by myself that amounted to anything? The answer is nothing at all really.

And I’m glad that I won’t be judged on how well I keep the spiritual disciplines because I make a lot of excuses. Yet, unlike spiritual disciplines, everyone, absolutely everyone can exercise compassion and show mercy. It doesn’t take training, or intelligence, or wealth or beauty. It just takes heart.

I have a goat boy heart-hard and unfeeling. Goat boy needs a softer heart, so maybe the purpose of Lent can take on a new meaning. I can try to break up the stony ground of my heart with the plow of fasting and prayer. If I can break up this hard ground, perhaps the tender shoot of mercy will spring up, and the great Shepherd will move me to the winning column. I can eat more simply, so that I can share a little food and drink or part with a little of my cash. Maybe I could share some of my time or empty my closet of clothes I haven’t worn in years. Goat boy would rather not do any of this but prove my love for God with my piety, but you know how it’s going go for goat boys. I heard the Judge say, forgive and you will be forgive, show mercy, and mercy will be shown to you. I was hungry and you fed me, naked and you clothed me, thirsty and you gave me water to drink. Ok, I get it, but Goat boy wishes that he would also say something like, “hey you didn’t break the fasting rules”, or “Way to go! You really nailed that prayer rule.”

Isaiah agreed with the Lord (no surprise). In chapter 58, he says.

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
only a day for a man to humble himself?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
and for lying on sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
a day acceptable to the LORD ?

6 “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?

7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness a]”>[a] will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,

10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

Sigh! Ok, goat boy understands. It’s time to say “baaaaaa.”

Baby Kisser

Published
by
frjohn
on February 20, 2009
in Orthodox Life, Podvig - Spiritual Struggle and Prayer
. 0 Comments

I didn’t follow the presidential campaign closely enough to know if it happened. Usually, it’s a regular part of the campaign and you see lots of pictures taken when it occurs. Someone will hand the candidate their baby, and the candidate will duly kiss the baby. Now, I’m not sure about exactly what this means. Is it a blessing for the baby? Will the baby’s life be forever changed because this particular person kissed it? It’s funny to me that people want to hand their babies to famous people.

In Luke 2, the situation is turned around. The time of purification had passed and Mary and Joseph brought the Child to the Temple to offer the prescribed sacrifice. They weren’t there because they heard that someone famous was there. In fact, if they had handed the Baby to the famous and the powerful in the Temple, the elite wouldn’t have kissed this baby anyway. Joseph and Mary were poor people and would hardly be noticed. How do we know they were poor? Well, the law allowed the poor to offer two birds instead of two sheep or two cows.

The elite of the Temple did not understand that the history of the Old Testament had come to completion that day. For in this baby, God had returned the Temple. If they had known this, all of them would have lined up to kiss the baby. Yet, the significance of the moment was not lost on everyone. There were two people there who kissed the baby. One was an old man and the other was an old woman. Why is it that they, among all the people who were there, were able to kiss the baby?

It says that Symeon was a just and pious man. Well, I’m sure that there were many pious people in the Temple that day. Yet, Symeon was a man who came to the Temple each day with an expectation and hope. Each day he came to see “the consolation of Israel.” He believed, in fact he had been promised, that he would not die before he had seen the Christ. A lot of people believed in a Messiah, but how many believed that they would see him before they died?

What is life without hope? For that matter, what is faith without hope? Do I come to the Temple thinking that today, yes even today, I will kiss the Baby? See, I believe in God and I believe in Christ. Yet, is there any conviction in me that before I die, my eyes will actually see God’s salvation fulfilled in my life? Another way to say this is do I really believe that holiness is possible for me, that what God started in me He will actually finish? Is today the day that this will be done? I know that he did this for the Saints, but they were saints after all. For me personally, I am very skeptical because I am no saint. After all,  the times was so different then. Everything today is weak and watered down and compromised. Holiness is a slim possibility.

Anna, daughter of Phanuel, got to kiss the baby. What made her so special? Well, she never left the Temple and she worshipped God with fasting and prayers. You know, it never occurred to me that I worship God by fasting. I thought fasting was just one of those disciplines that we do to constrain our flesh.Yet, Anna had learned to worship God with her piety and so she gained the spirit of a prophetess. When the Baby came into the Temple, she knew who this Baby was and she spoke to people many about him.

Each time I come to the Temple, I can kiss the Baby. I kiss him when I embrace my brothers and sisters. I kiss him when I kiss the hand of the priest.I kiss him in the icons. Above all, I kiss him in the holy Eucharist. Do I have the eyes to see it? Having prepared myself with prayer and fasting, do I come with hope and expectation that today, in this very hour, I will see the salvation prepared before the face of all the people. Hope and piety-with these two things, I can kiss the Baby. Then, when I leave the Temple, or when God sends his angel to take my soul from the temple of my body, I will be able to say, “Now let your servant depart in peace.”

Rest

Published
by
frjohn
on February 1, 2009
in Orthodox Life, Podvig - Spiritual Struggle and Relationships
. 1 Comment

The story goes that a group of people who had entered into hell were taken to a beautiful dining room. It was finely apportioned with the best furniture, silverware, and glassware. On the table, every possible food was present and it was all of the highest quality. They were told to take a seat. Their punishment would be that they could eat all they wanted and they would never get sick or tire of the food.

Hardly able to contain their joy and surprise, they sat down, placed the fine linen napkin on their lap, picked up a fork, and began to eat. The fork would pick up the food, but just before it got to their lips, it would fall from the fork. If they tried to take the food by hand, it would just slip between their fingers or disappear.Try as they might, no one could get a morsel in their mouth. This was truly suffering as they grew ever more hungry, angry and frustrated. This would be their lot for eternity.

Of course, what they never figured out was that their suffering could end at any moment. All they had to do was to feed each other, but it never occurred to them. After all, it never occurred to them in life to consider others before themselves, why should they think of it now even though their need was so great?

Suffering seems to be an unavoidable reality of life. Certainly no one gets through life without suffering. You catch a cold or the flu. Many of us have accidents, lose money, experience the loss of friends or family, fail an exam, get a broken heart, and so on.There’s emotional, mental, and even spiritual suffering and any one of these can rob life of all meaning and joy.

I once took a class in seminary on evil, suffering, and the Christian faith. I remember one thing that the professor told us. Most of us are insulated from suffering. This may be a survival technique or even a gift from God, because if we could experience all the suffering that goes on in the world at this very moment, the experience would kill us or drive us insane.

The idea of finding rest is a wonderful idea because I like to rest. When I am at rest, I am at peace, and there is no suffering. How can we attain such rest? Jesus said, “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am meek and humble in heart; and ye shall find rest to your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light.

The Lord makes it sound so simple and so inviting. Rest is found by taking his yoke and learning about him. Why is it then that is so few are willing to do it? We seem almost like masochists who prefer to suffer instead of rest. Here is a way offered to us by God, a way to be at rest, but we would rather take upon ourselves the yoke of the worldliness and sin.

So many Orthodox Christians are suffering today. They suffer because they believe the yoke of the Lord is too heavy. They say it is too much to ask that they pray daily. It is too hard to fast weekly. It is too much to ask that they spend 4 hours out their week to come to the liturgies of the church. It is too much to ask that they come to Sunday school or Bible Study. It is too much to ask that they confess regularly. The yoke is too heavy. Yet, they struggle and suffer under the yoke of life’s demands and rarely do you see them at rest. They have no defense against the devil, the world, and even their own selves. To us the Lord says, “Take my yoke.” We refuse.

There’s so much suffering in families today, even Orthodox families. Many wives suffer because their husbands refuse to serve them as Christ serves the Church. Instead of taking the Lord’s yoke upon them, men demand that they be served, and when wives fail to serve them, they resort to anger and sullenness, mental and sometimes even physical abuse. Husbands suffer because wives refuse to show them honor and love, but feel belittled by the sharp words of criticism from their wives. Parents suffer because children will not be obedient to them, and children suffer because parents forget that they are not to “stir their children to wrath”, as the Bible says. To the family, the Lord says, “Take my yoke.” No one in the family will do it the Lord’s way, so everyone suffers and the home is not a place of rest.

There’s so much suffering the Church today. In the Church we are told to forgive each other, but often we hold grudges. In the Church, we are called to bear each other’s burdens, but we are too busy sharing our burdens and so we have no thought of bearing burdens. We are called to build each other up, but instead we tear each other down. We are supposed to speak the truth in love, but we whisper behind doors. We are to admonish each other “with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, making melody in our hearts to the Lord,” but we admonish with biting words and harsh criticisms, or show a cold shoulder to the offender. Instead of sitting with visitors or the elderly or the youth so that we might share our faith and build them up, we sit with friends who can match our sophistication and wit. Some of members of our church are lonely or hurting – do you know who they are? To the Church, the Lord says, “take my yoke.” We refuse and so there is much suffering at Church. The Church is not a place of rest.

The world is suffering, but what chance is there that people in the world will take on the yoke of Christ? So, the suffering will continue.

Why do we insist on carrying a heavy yoke that brings no rest and no peace, yet refuse the easy yoke of Christ? Zacchaeus was man who carried a heavy yoke. He was a tax collector and thought of little else than financial gain. But for all of his money, he was hated and despised and rejected. How he must have suffered in his loneliness and isolation. Yet, when Jesus entered his house, he said with joy, “Lord, today, half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone, I restore to him fourfold.” Jesus never demanded this, but he said that at that very moment, salvation had entered the house, and Zacchaeus had become a true son of Abraham. Imagine giving away half of your possessions and then repaying all your debts fourfold. Zacchaeus did it with joy because he found it to be an easy thing to do. To him, the yoke of Christ was light and Zacchaeus found rest, a rest that all the in the world could not buy him.

My brothers and sisters, I invite you to take the Lord’s yoke. The result will be rest, not suffering. Learn of Him, and then do it his way. You will find that suffering will cease. Notice, I didn’t say that struggling would cease, for we live in a world that is not a place of rest, but of suffering. No, life will be a struggle, but if you struggle under the yoke of the Lord, suffering will end because you will find the struggle is easy and light. The Lord will be in the yoke with you, helping you to pull the plow and break up the hard soil of life.