:: A Catechumen's Walk ::

:: Friday, December 24, 2004 ::

My Christmas Eve Traditions

So, my family has a Christmas Eve tradition. It is the only time of the year I remember all of us piling into the car at around 7PM to go to church and take communion together. It accidentally happened a few Sundays of the year that we would all be at church, but the Christmas Eve was the one time I remember everyone making an effort to be there and to take communion. The service would start at 7, but we’d be there really early. My brother and I would try to decide where to sit: they dismissed the back rows for communion first (therefore, they had to wait less), but we could see better if we sat at the front (although, there was never much to see…). Once we finally had decided, my dad would always come and override our decision anyway, but that was how it worked.

Once we’d sung a few carols, seen a few skits, and heard the Christmas story, an usher would come to our row and let us go up for communion. The four of us (and usually a few relatives who were visiting) would crowd around a gold tray of 50 small cups of grape juice and wafers. My dad would pray this really long, comically casual prayer, the most of which I could never understand, as he always prays aloud so softly that he is unintelligible to any listeners. Then we’d all take a cup and a piece of cracker and eat it.

This is a favorite tradition of mine. Even as we got older, and my brother didn’t attend church with us much anymore, we’d still go on Christmas Eve. For the last few years, my mom has been trying to convince us to attend the “late” 9PM service, since we are older. Of course, this doesn’t ever work, since both my brother and I insist on going to the earlier one. I think she’s finally given up on trying to convince us.

So, tonight is Christmas Eve. And we’ll go. But it’ll be different. Tonight, like last year, is the one night I regret becoming a catechumen. I am forbidden to partake. With my family, as we always have, in peace and health. All I ask for is one night to receive with them that which means so much to them. Yes, I know (as do they) that the cup contains nothing more than Welch’s grapejuice, and the crackers are salt-free oyster crackers. I know. I do not understand why I cannot eat the little cracker and drink the cup of grapejuice; there is no sin in eating them normally. Why not tonight? The joy of the season wears this shadow of division; I am not a part of them like I used to be. I am sad.

I cannot partake at all, with anyone, Orthodox or Protestant; while the world rejoices, I am excluded in a subtle but profound way. Yet, then again, I think back to a young Maiden, a few years younger than I, who was likewise excluded on this night from the company due her. Now she is the Queen of Heaven whom all the hosts of angels hymn; I ask for her holy prayers.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 5:24 PM on Friday, December 24, 2004 [+] ::

“The Law of God,” Science and Myth

I read theology. While I am not particularly well versed in any particular type of theology (Christology, soteriology, dogmatics, &c), I think it is fair to say that I am skilled in the reading of “technical” theology. The theology of “logos” (logic, rational), as seen so evidently in Scholastic writers (see Thomas Aquinas), has become so pervasive in society today that I am beginning to wonder if there is anything else.

In the Bible, Jesus tells stories. The Bible itself is a story-book, a myth. The Greek word is “muthos,” while roughly translated “myth,” does not speak to the veracity of the tale, but rather to its form. The narrative, concrete stories are of the type you can tell around a campfire, rather than in a sterile academic lecture room. Of course, Jesus’ stories are not flat, two-dimensional retelling of events, but are rather profound, dynamic, and life-changing tales. Even better, our salvation itself is told to us as a story: “One day, the Angel Gabriel came to Mary…he became man…he was crucified…he rose again.” Myth is very important in the Bible.

Then again, it is the theology in which I find my faith. This is what I believe: “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty…”. The Creed is not a story, but rather a statement of theology. And it is in the Creed that we define who we are. On a slightly more advanced level, we can discuss the Trinity, soteriology, the science of the Incarnation, and other “logos” theological concepts. It is here that we find the grounding of our faith, its borders and expressions.

So, which is more important? Myth, or logic? Muthos, or Logos? While it is the muthos of the Logos that is our salvation, how does this play into our theology today? If we study the myth to the exclusion of logic, we become either hippies or back-country folk who believe that education is evil. If we study the logos to the exclusion of myth (much more my tendency!), we become not only cynics who talk ourselves out of God, but scholastics who put God into a box. While they often exclude each other in our reading today, we need to remember that they are both essential to our salvation.

All this to say that I am really enjoying the book “The Law of God,” by the Archpriest Seraphim Slobodskoy. After reading “logos” theology, it is so relaxing to read a refreshingly innocent “story” of God and his interactions with mankind. I cannot speak to the “technical” skill of the book; the translation is slightly woody, and I have my doubts that his apologetical “proofs” may be difficult to swallow with modern scholarship, but the book is a breath of fresh air from a stuffy room of scholastic theology. Sometimes I forget the story of my salvation, and it is good to be reminded.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 8:05 PM on Saturday, December 11, 2004 [+] ::

Finals…

I haven’t been posting much…I have had finals this week and next week, so I am busy…5 more days…then I’m home for Christmas!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 8:28 PM on Friday, December 10, 2004 [+] ::

Miracles and er…not

As little kids, we like to think God can do anything. Unhindered by logic and learning, we imagine God able to create square-circles and wonder about him making a rock too heavy for him to lift. What can God really do, however? I claim that there are limits to miracles, specifically the limit of supernaturality. In other words, it would not be a miracle if I started, for any reason, to fly; at best, it would be scary, at worst, demonic.

I would be very, very scared if I or anyone I knew started to fly. Why? It would not be of God. Miracles are a physical sign of the grace bestowed upon us by God. Now, it is not my nature to fly; there is nothing I do that is “flight-like.” Since grace perfects nature, rather than abolishing it, I have no capacity for flight that can be perfected, and therefore, I cannot ever fly.

The major objection to this limitation of miracles to super-nature would be Christ’s miracles on the earth. Water into wine? Dead men rising? Walking on water? Multiplying loves? These are all simple enough in that they are super-natural. They took the nature of something and improved on that nature without changing it. Grapes take water and make them wine; Jesus did this supernaturally. Bodies are not meant to die, as evidenced by the Resurrection and telos of Life, and so life is natural to them. If a man can walk, doing so on water is an improvement on his natural abilities. Bread has all of the properties of bread naturally, so it is only super-natural to have these properties in a greater quantity.

Almost as interesting as looking at the miracles Jesus does, we can also look at the miracles that he does not do. When in the desert in Luke 4, Jesus did not make the stone into bread. It is unnatural for stone to have anything to do with bread; the grace of the miracle would have needed to destroy the very stone-ishness of the stone to make bread, and grace perfects rather than destroys nature.

All this to say that miracles are not “limited,” but “supernatural.” God does not seek to make us into what we are not, but rather seeks to perfect what we are. God does not want us to become drones or loose our “self” (see Far Eastern religions for this), but rather wants us to become more fully ourselves, created as we are as reflections and ikons of Him.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:07 AM on Friday, December 03, 2004 [+] ::

San Francisco Extremes

Today, I had the privilage of touring around San Francisco with my family, my roommate, and a friend Demetri. The city, the culture, the life there is a series of extremes; we went into a three different of the classic churches of the city, and saw three very different scenes.

Demetri and I are Orthodox, but my roommie and family are not particularly into it, so I was rather surprised that my dad agreed to let us stop by the ROCOR cathedral; technically it is dedicated to the Holy Virgin “Joy of All Who Sorrow,” but everyone calls it “St. John,” since it contains the complete incorrupt body of the holy St. John of San Francisco. It is truly a beautiful church; the walls are gloriously frescoed, and the whole atmosphere vibrates with the seemingly eternal chant of voices, bells of censors, and pious scent of incense. I have been there before, but not since I have been willing to venerate relics; for the first time, I venerated the incorrupt relics of my “hometown” saint. It is a wonderful, beautiful, holy place.

The second church we went to was the Old St. Mary’s. It is the old Roman Catholic church in San Francisco. It is, in its own way, nice. It was a little odd seeing photos of bishops and priests and such who were clean shaven with short hair, but otherwise, it was nice. I tried to explain to my Protestant roommie and the cradle-Orthodox Demetri what people were doing as the venerated the sacrament in the chapel of the Perpetual Adoration…well, it didn’t work too well, but I think they got the idea. Both Demetri and I had to laugh at the confessionals where the priest can’t see the penitent. How is he supposed to know who it is? Confession like that would be so…removed. It is too sterile, too guilt-free and shameless. Anyway, Old St. Mary is a nice church, and worth a short tour.

The last church we went to was ATROCIOUS. Let me clarify: really, really, really bad. Grace Cathedral is a beautiful stone building, but it is like a white-washed sepulcher; you will fall into danger upon entering the gorgeous exterior. In it we found sacriligiousity too great for words. Not only did we have to pass through the inner-faith chapel (in a CHRISTIAN Church? Ummm…) with its crescent, wicca symbols, stars of David and the like, but there were some of the most sacrilegious ikons ever. In the classical, egg-tempra style of ikons, with both Slavonic and Greek writing was an ikon of Martin Luther King, Jr., and an ikon of John Donne. Harvey Milk was on the back wall. Don’t get me wrong, MLK and Donne were good enough men, but they were not saints. Harvey Milk?! Don’t even get me started! Anyway, I was quite depressed, but there were a few real ikons there, so we venerated them. Demetri and I were debating; is it better that there be real ikons mixed in with the pagan ones, or is it better that they not be there? I think any light in a place as dark as that should be appreciated, but I see how someone else could see them as sacrilegious. We met a nice sacristan in our meanderings, and he showed us all sorts of vestments and other things with which they play church. There were some really obnoxious looking vestments; one was bright yellow satin with green, red, and blue stripes down the sides…um…yeah. Another had 60’s embroidery on it that was so dated you could place it down to the month. Yikes. Sadly (or happily?), there were two beautiful, classic ikons of Christ and the Theotokos on either side of the “altar.” They were large, old, and gorgeous. It makes me wonder where they came from, and how they ended up in such a place.

Anyway, churches in San Fran certainly have extremes…

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:04 PM on Saturday, November 27, 2004 [+] ::

Christians and Demons

Let me preclude this by saying up front that I DO NOT LIKE THE TOPIC of demons. I don’t understand why we should discuss it, think about it, or have anything to do with it. That said, of course, I now will now continue to write about it.

This semester, I have read the entire corpus of St. Athanasius; while he usually employs a level-headed, practical, logical approach to theology, in his Life of St. Antony, St. Antony is running around the Egyptian desert fighting demons with the sign of the cross.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just “St. Antony beats up demons in the desert.” That would give me confidence in my faith: Christians beat up demons. Rather, the problem is that it is “St. Antony, getting tortured by demons in the desert.” So, I thought Christians had defeated Satan? Didn’t he get destroyed with Christ’s defeat of death? Why is he giving St. Antony so much trouble?

St. Antony uses the sign of the cross, but he almost uses it like a talisman against demons: “Do this thing, and the demons disappear.” While it is disturbing enough to have the sign of the cross reduced to some pocket magic-trick, it is worse to see its impotence in the face of his foes. St. Antony literally gets so beat up that his friends think he is dead, and they carry him back to the village so he can finish dying. In the middle of the night, he awakens them, and has them carry him back out to the cave where he lived. Hello? St. Antony, you know, the great ascetic and saint? So, if such a great ascetic and saint can get so badly beat up by demons, where does that leave those of us who are not quite ascetics and saints?

Scary thoughts. How vulnerable are Christians to demons? After reading St. Antony, I think we are more vulnerable than we think. And what can we do? Well…the prospects look grim. I know I am not as strong as Antony, and so would probably get beat up worse than he if I ever encountered such demons. Spooky.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:23 AM on Friday, November 19, 2004 [+] ::

Prayer for the Fast

The Nativity Fast begins tomorrow. So, when we fast, there is a certain new “urgency” and strength to our prayer. I always seem to forget the power of prayers when combined with fasting, but then by the end of the first week of a fast, I am all excited again about the strength of prayer and fasting. So then the question is, what should I pray for?

It seems like I have everything I could possibly want and more. I go to the best school I could imagine, I have wonderful friends who love me, I have a great family who supports me even when they don’t understand me, and I absolutely love what I am studying. What more could I want?

There is always more, isn’t there? The only thing I do not have on the list above: church. What? No, I am not talking about “Church,” but rather about “a church.” My perpetual college-student complaint is that I have no home church. Yes, I do have the monastery in Calistoga, and yes, that is home in a way. But it is not a parish, and when there are nuns there (quite soon!), it will loose its current parish feel and become more monastery-like. So, I want a home parish for Christmas.

Stupid request, no? Yeah, I feel like with the amount I love Church and all of the aspects tied to it, I should be comfortable wherever I am attending. But I just don’t. I love the faith so much, but I have this desire for a place to call my “home parish.” As I fill out paperwork for various things, it often asks “home parish,” and I feel as though I can write an essay on the topic. What should I put? Calistoga? Well, its technically not a parish. St. Seraphim? Except that I have attended there for a grand total of 5 months. St. Andrew? Yeah, but I’m a catechumen at St. Seraphim. So…this Advent fast, my prayer will be a self-centered one. I want a home church.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:50 PM on Sunday, November 14, 2004 [+] ::

Creedal/Council Circles

What is necessary and sufficient for salvation? What do I need to do to be saved? Perhaps I am asking the wrong questions; I know we should not be reductionist in our faith and beliefs, but I still want some sort of line to look at and say, “Here, and you are going to go to heaven; here, and you are not.”

I have heard it rumored that belief in the Creed is necessary and sufficient. But whose interpretation? “The people who wrote it” basically, for whomever is speaking, this means “mine.” Even if I take your definition, what about other people who differ on non-Creedal points? Of the many Protestant denominations, there are some that differ on non-Creedal points, such as eschatological beliefs. But even from this side of the Schism, there are Monophysites and Monothilytes who hold to the Creed as interpreted by the Fathers, but not necessarily to the Councils. The reason for the Creed as the foundation seems circular at best: we believe it according to our interpretation because we believe our interpretation to be best.

If we switch our definition to the Councils, there are more problems. Which are the “Councils?” Most Protestants can make it to the 4th or 5th (weird; very few make it to the 6th on monothilytism, yet I do not think they are monothilytes!), certainly not the 7th. But if you ask Rome, the Ecumenical Councils have not yet stopped: they are well into their 20s. Protestants say they stopped earlier, Rome says they haven’t stopped; again, we find ourselves saying, “This is what the Orthodox believe (7 Councils); if you want to be Orthodox, believe what the Orthodox believe!” It is not a helpful objective standard to point at the Councils, since you are only looking at the ones you have previously defined as correct. It is circular reasoning.

Does anyone else see the circularity here? So, what exactly is necessary and sufficient for salvation? Hmmm…our priest from St. Andrew, Fr. Josiah, is coming out here for a lecture on Monday, and I was thinking of asking him, but…there will be far, far too many questions to actually get a chance to ask this.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:16 AM on Friday, November 12, 2004 [+] ::

WooHoo!

I just found out I got accepted to Oxford for next semester! I will be studying Ecclesiology at Wycliffe College. I am so excited!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 2:12 PM on Wednesday, November 03, 2004 [+] ::

Tradition: My Past and Future

When the new convert enters the Church, he suddenly inherits an entire past. I remember my reception as a catechumen; after the torturously embarrassing and awkward 20-minute service, I heard the wonderful words of “Welcome home.” So, what does it mean? What do I do with this Tradition that is suddenly my own?

It can be wonderful to have inherited this treasure. The other day, I heard an old Arab man ask a priest a question that was predicated with, “What does our Church think about…” It is true; the Church is ours (those of you who are baptized); you are members of the body of Christ. The other day when a rather anti-Orthodox speaker asked me, “Well, does your church believe in the Bible?” I got to smile and say, “Of course we do, we wrote it!” It is great being part of this tradition, and being able to live and move and have our being in Christ and his Church.

On the other hand, it is a bit overwhelming. Spending lots of time in church while growing up, I developed a good sense of the Bible and of various Protestant doctrines. Even just studying by myself, I knew the major developments and themes of the Evangelical Church and its doctrine all the way through its 75 year history. Suddenly, I find myself immersed in the writings of saints, thousands of years of history, and so many subtle ideas and doctrines that I sometimes get lost. There is so much to learn! It feels as though I will never get to the end (or even beginning) of it all.

Now that I have it, the next question is, “What do I do with Tradition?” I live it out in today’s terms. “What does this mean?”…Er…I’m not sure. I want to avoid my gut-reaction; it is reductionistic and Western. My gut says that we should reduce the Tradition to principles and live those principles accordingly. An example of this reductionist mentality: if Tradition says to fast, it really means we are to deny ourselves what we would otherwise want, but that we are not bound to doing this with specifically food. While there is a sense in which interpreting the spirit of the law is important, the Traditions as they stand, unreduced by our modernist tendencies, are the best guide to our salvation.

If we do not want to reduce Tradition to live it out, what do we do? Clearly the world around is changing, right? Well…that is where I think the answer to Tradition lies. The world around us may be changing, but people are not. People are fundamentally the same as they were at Christ’s time, at Moses’ time, and all the way back to mid-Genesis 3. The accoutrements, technologies, opportunities and other accidentals may change, but man is the same. The Traditions of the Church minister to man, and since he has not changed, neither should the Tradition.

This is not particularly helpful as to the implementation of anything. Sure, so man is the same. What do we do now? I do not know, but I think we cannot go too far wrong if we remember that we are still sinners in need of grace.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 3:41 PM on Thursday, October 28, 2004 [+] ::

Prayer FOR ME

::BEEP BEEP:: Its Saturday morning…way too early to be up doing anything. Grumble grumble. Alright, alright, I’m up already…Let’s see, checklist of things to do toady. Oh, yeah, and I gotta pray too. Right…OK, turning on lights, finding prayer book… ::yawn::…mumble mumble…::Glory…::

I pray every day. OK, more accurately, I stand in my ikon corner and mumble the words that I see in the prayer book. Which ever is the more accurate, it is important to remember for whom I pray. I do not mean the subjects of my petitions, but rather the major benefactor of my prayers. Me.

I pray for me. God does not need me to stand there and speak to him. My Lady does not need me to venerate her. God and the saints do not need anything I can give to them. Rather, I need what they can give to me. I need the grace, I need the help, the comfort, the protection. It is not for their benefit that I stand there, even if I am speaking to them. My prayers are for me and my salvation.

I don’t even think my prayers are pious enough to count for much in terms of helping other people; I pray for them, and if God chooses to use my prayers, he is doing just that. Using my prayers. But don’t worry, God does not need an excuse to do help someone. It is not as though he was thinking, “Gee, I really want to help that person, but no one has prayed for him yet, so I guess I’ll have to wait.” No, God uses my prayers for my benefit; he allows me to see his actions and be encouraged by them.

Every way I can think of it, I pray for me. Sure, it is to God and the saints, but it is for me. I should not forget this. When I pray, it is only me that I help, so I might as well help myself as often and as well as possible. Wisdom, attend, stand aright. You are praying for your own salvation.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 1:49 PM on Saturday, October 23, 2004 [+] ::

Glory to God!

More of a question than an entry: what are some good Akathists/prayers of thanksgiving? I seem to ask a lot in my prayers, but never really seem to give thanks as much as I should; especially when specifically good things happen, I want to thank God, but I am often at a loss of words as to how to do so. While this is a problem in and of itself, I was wondering if there were any prayers specifically of thanks. I have the Akathist of Thanksgiving, but I was wondering if there were more things…

Yesterday, on our way to see Fr. Peter Gillquist speak at UCI, my friend and I were in our first car accident. My friend was driving, but it wasn’t her fault. We got rear-ended after we stopped behind a stopped car. We were pushed into the car in front of us. Everyone was slightly shaken, but all right. We were lucky in so many ways; freeway crashes can be much worse. As two girls alone at night on the freeway, luckily the people in the other cars were also women, and both had cell-phones (we don’t). Then, as the CHP arrived to do a report, we saw an accident with significantly worse damage from the people watching us. Bumpers were damaged, but nothing else. Glory to God, everyone is safe and the damage is minor! I just hope our guardian angels will forgive us for making them work overtime…;-0

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 7:39 PM on Friday, October 22, 2004 [+] ::

Protest[ant]ing

I sometimes tease my Protestant friends: they have the most perfectly apophatic religion possible! Ask any Protestant, especially good Reformed ones, and they will tell you exactly what they believe, “NOT CATHOLIC!” Probe a little deeper, and you will find more “I’M NOT CATHOLIC!” Find something they don’t know about, tell them that the Catholics think one way, and they will quickly decide that THEY ARE NOT CATHOLIC. They have a religion founded in opposition to something else; they fundamentally define themselves by what they are not, even down to their very name!

Well, I am not a Protestant in that I am not protesting Rome. I jokingly say that I got off that boat long before 1517; I am way back in the 3rd century. Unfortunately, I do catch myself in simple “protest” sometimes. I protest Protestantism. I know I am not one, and so should have nothing particularly to do with their doctrine. After all, how much does a Protestant really need to know about Catholic Transubstantiation before he knows that he denies it? Not too much. So, how much do I really need to know about certain Protestant doctrines just to know that I hold the opposite opinion? Or, worse yet, do I need to know about them so that I can hold the opposite opinion?!?

Sheesh, sometimes I am more protestant now than I ever was before! Perhaps it is the convertness; perhaps it is just pride. Either way, I need to remember more often that I am not running from something, but rather that I am running to something. If Protestantism has truth (and it has some), then glory to God, I will use it to help me. Where it is wrong, I cannot define myself in simple opposition to it, but rather need to learn to answer with positive assertions of what I believe. In other words, someone please hit me whenever I start running around yelling, “I’M NOT PROTESTANT!”

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:01 AM on Friday, October 15, 2004 [+] ::

Arise!

As a kid, I remember reading all of the exciting miracles that Jesus did. Now, I admit to having no theological knowledge of any kind, but at the same time, I would read about things like dead men rising, blind men being healed, lame walking, and other great things Jesus and his followers did. Then I got to those wonderful passages in the end of the Mark (16) where it says that we will do things like this and greater.

Admittedly as a little kid, I really tried hard to have the faith to raise dead things. It just seemed like such a practical idea; if Jesus could do it, and he said we could, why don’t we? If it was a matter of faith, why wasn’t there anyone who had enough faith? Or, even if we don’t have faith, why don’t we try? It just seemed like all of the people in authority should know these verses, and if they knew them, they should at least occasionally try to raise someone from the dead. Of course, no one ever tried. I though for sure the pastor of my church had more faith than just about anyone I know, and yet I also knew that he had never raised anyone from the dead, or even tried (yes, I asked!) Why not? It really made sense to my childish mind.

Yesterday in the homily, Father made an off-hand comment. He said that when he went to the mortuary to vest Fr. Stephen for the funeral, he made the sign of the cross, then said to him “Arise…” Now, nothing happened, but that’s not the point. The point is that he said it. Priests regularly say it over dead people. Isn’t this exciting? I caught myself grinning: the faith that I had as a little kid can still be alive! We still have hope! Even if we are not seeing resurrections everyday, we still at least try; we seek to have the faith.

I’ve been in a bunch of churches, and never had I seen something so thoroughly scriptural, so sensical. It made me so happy to see something I had thought dead and non-existent in Christendom living to this day. Childlike, simple, real faith still exists in the Church as a whole. Yet one more sign that I have finally “come home.” Glory to God!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:13 AM on Monday, October 11, 2004 [+] ::

Rest

This semester has been perhaps the busiest time I can remember. If I can get a full night’s sleep, I am happy; I rarely can. Of course, I still am generally happy. I love what I am doing, love being busy, and love the constant crazy pace of my life.

Of course, at the same time, I find myself with an ever-growing desire for rest. By rest, I do not mean “not working.” I do not even mean sleep or relaxation. Rest has to be more than this. Augustine spoke of rest, calling it the ultimate goal to which all things aspire; the more at rest something is, the more perfect it is. I find myself yearning for this rest, even more as I get busier and busier.

How can I find rest? I found it in part last night, after perhaps one of the busiest days I can remember. I stopped, put my books away, and prayed. Unfortunately, my prayers did not come in the usual form of a set rule, readings, and the like. They were more a random collection of snippets from the Psalms strung together like a badly woven cloth. In one way, I thought that when I got to the point of utter exhaustion, I would be able to say the prayers of the Church. It struck me as odd that I was not able to pray them; rather, I just wanted to stop moving and be in God’s presence. Perhaps I am not being clear; it was not that I was necessarily tired, but that I wanted to be in God’s rest more than anything. It was not that the world was bad, I just wanted to be with God and sit at his feet and learn from him. I am curious as to why I did not find rest in the prayers of the Church, but rather in the Psalms themselves, but I assume that is secondary. What is good is that I was with God, and able to quietly worship in his presence.

How can I rest more? It seems that the short time I make for prayers is not enough. How can I have abiding rest, that does not go away a few minutes after I stop praying? Rest seems elusive, yet so precious and sought-after.

I am not saying that I am too busy (although I think I may be!), or that I wish I could sleep more (although…). What I am doing is good, very good, and I love it a lot. I read Athanasius, Thomas Aquinas, Plato, Aristotle and the like. I talk about them with smart students. I study Spanish and math, go to Church, write letters, and do many good things. I am not really saying that I even need to cut back on some of these things. I just think that there is a desire for rest within my soul; I cannot put my finger on it, but I cannot attain it in the fullest way that I need. It is as if I can live from prayer time to prayer time, but never really rest outside of those few precious minutes each day. Lord, have mercy.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 5:20 PM on Thursday, October 07, 2004 [+] ::

Memory Eternal!

Last night, the assistant priest at St. Andrew, V. Rev. Stephen Hardie, fell asleep in the Lord. May his memory be eternal; May his soul dwell with the blessed in Paradise!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:17 AM on Saturday, October 02, 2004 [+] ::

Ever Heard Of...

Have any of you ever heard of Project Mexico? Anyone know what it is? I was looking around for internships to which to apply (I need to have an internship for school), and this one jumped out of the computer screen. I want to apply, and think it would be really cool if I could go, but I was wondering if any of you smart people had ever gone, or know anything else about it? (Esp. you Southern California people.) Thanx!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:16 PM on Thursday, September 30, 2004 [+] ::

Soft Hearts

A few days ago, I was waiting in line at the supermarket. Standing in the doorway a few feet away from me were, I assume, a mother and her daughter. The daughter was in her 40’s, and the mother in her 60’s. At first, they were just speaking loudly and gesticulating wildly; I glanced over, but did not stare. Then, they started outright yelling, quarrelling with each other and saying hurtful things.

I cringed, not so much because they were embarrassing themselves, but because there was something wrong between them. I heard the daughter yell, “I hate you! You’re just an old ----!” The mother retorted with similar phrases. I wanted to walk over and beg them to stop; eventually, the daughter left and the mother went back into the store. The whole rest of the day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they need something.

The whole walk home, I could not help thinking about them and really hurting for them. We live in a fallen world. Why do they have to hurt? Sure, it is their fault, in that it is the fault of the sin in mankind. But then, I sin also, and I do not feel the pain that these women clearly felt. Their sin has direct consequences in open pain; I rarely suffer the consequences for the wrong I do.

Then I got mad at myself. Is it right that I care so much about them? These are two strangers to me; I have nothing to do with them. But at the same time, I did not want them to hate. I see very little hate; I shelter myself from it purposefully. But is it wise to shelter myself? If I am not somehow calloused to it, then it hurts me when I see it. It has been almost a week, and I still pray that the Lord will have mercy on these two women. Why? Perhaps I am completely wrong, and I have judged these women. Perhaps they were just having a bad day, and they are once again close friends. Perhaps. If so, then they have been blessed, and my prayers have been fulfilled even as I say them. But, as I am more inclined to think, there is still pain between them, and my prayers are needed.

Are soft hearts a liability? If we have them, we will be hurt. If we do not have them, however, we will not be sympathetic when we need to be. Which is worse?

Lord, have mercy on this sinful world! It is so fallen, and so in need of a Savior!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:00 PM on [+] ::

Inner-Trinitarian Relationships

God exists in Holy Trinity. There are three persons, but one nature. I could insert technical Greek words here, but suffice to say that there is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and they aren’t the same Person; the same stuff (substance) and same God, but not the same Person.

Why aren’t they the same Person? I have been reading a lot of St. Thomas (OK, even if he’s not an Eastern saint, you can’t really just say “Thomas” without the “St.”), and I have been wondering about the distinction of the Persons in the Trinity. I have also been wondering about the fillioque; how does an obscure three-word (in English) phrase cause so much dissent among people? So many people scoff when I say a major theological difference between the East and West is the procession of the Holy Spirit “from the Father,” or “from the Father and the Son.” For St. Thomas, this distinction is what allows him to distinguish the Persons of the Trinity.

St. Thomas’ general idea is that the only distinction between the Persons of the Trinity is their relationship to each other. There are four relationships, but that is beside the point; the basic idea is that the Father begats the Son (the whole “only-begotten” thing) and spirates the Spirit (think about the root words of “inspire” and “expire;” it has to do with “breathing forth”). He says “relations cannot distinguish the persons except forasmuch as they are opposite relations;” (I Q36.2) in other words, there is no difference in the relation of the Father to the Holy Spirit and the Son, since they both come from the Father. St. Thomas says that there needs to be something different in the way the two of them come into being (if such a thing may be said of a Person of the Trinity). He wants the Persons to have distinction, but not a material distinction, so they have a relational distinction. The Spirit must come from the Son as well as the Father, or he is just another Son, since there is no relational difference.

So, now that I have attempted to explain the fillioque as necessary in the West to distinguish between the Persons of the Trinity, I ask: how does the East distinguish the Persons? If we reject the idea of the fillioque, we must have some way of having the Spirit not be the Son, or a brother or some odd heresy. We cannot say their acts distinguish them; they are all God and all have the power to act as they choose; fillioque or not, St. Thomas pretty thoroughly takes actual difference out of the running. We cannot simply say that their modes of procession are different, since that is a semantic escape that will not hold up in the light of philosophy. Why isn’t the Son the Father, the Father the Son, or either the Holy Spirit?

Perhaps I have read this wrong; perhaps I have no idea what I am talking about (as frequently happens when I discuss my views on a book). So, if I have wildly misinterpreted something, or offended anyone, please forgive me.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 11:28 AM on Wednesday, September 22, 2004 [+] ::

Transcending Divisions

Today in chapel, I had the rare opportunity to hear a truly Christian man speak. Dr. Ajith Fernando heads the Youth For Christ in Sri Lanka, and after hearing him speak for two days on pray, his faith is evident; he is one of those rare people who had transcended the lines of the petty debates which doth so easily beset us.

Yes, he is Protestant. I know that. But…he is still Godly, more so than I can hope to be. He was so knowledgeable with the Bible and his genuine love of the people for whom he worked was so clear that his particular denomination or specific theological distinctions didn’t matter. You had the feeling that if you tried to pick a debate on a specific dogmatic issue, he could show you that you were asking the wrong questions.

I find myself judging people sometimes by what I hear about them. “Oh, he’s a Protestant; his theology can’t be correct!” While to a certain extent, his theology therefore cannot be correct, he can still be right about more theology than I know. I cannot judge anything about his salvation based on the title of his denomination; his faith is evident upon meeting him, or it is not.

I want to be one of these people whose faith transcends petty lines. In a Protestant environment, I do not want to be known as the token Orthodox, but rather just as a Christian. I do not want to give people the opportunity to come up to me and say, “You’re not a Protestant. You are going to Hell!” I want them rather to see my life, and to say, “Well, you’re not a Protestant, but clearly something is right between you and God.” Does this make me liberal? I hope not.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 4:37 PM on Thursday, September 16, 2004 [+] ::

I, Unworthy

I have a friend, Bree; we have known each other for a few years, and are very close. If I asked Bree to borrow a dollar, I am absolutely sure that she would say yes; she probably wouldn’t even ask me the reason. She thinks that I am a generally good person; we know each other, do not lie to each other, and trust each other; I have a good rapport with her. We have a friendly relationship; we mutually help each other, and expect the same in return.

This is what I do not have with God; in fact, I would venture to say that no man has this with God (perhaps St. John, but…). For the last week, I have been praying as best I know how for another friend, K. As I was praying, it occurred to me that I have no point on which to plead with God; I do not have a good rapport with God.

What can I say when I ask God for something? “Because I’m really good?” No, that’s not true. “Because I don’t break my promises to You?” Again: not true. I have nothing which to claim as a defense…I stand there and can only ask for mercy. I have done nothing good, not even a small good thing for which I can say, “Look, God, because I did this for You, You should have mercy on me!”

How then can I keep praying? What is there to say but for, “Lord, have mercy?” There is no reason that God should have mercy on me; I could not even be worthy if I were perfect. I stood there and kept trying for a while, “Lord, have mercy on me because…” there is nothing to say. What is there to say? The only thing I could think of was to recount the Old Testament accounts of the Lord having mercy on Israel, then asking God to be merciful in that specific way.

It was good for me to stand in silence for a moment, speechless because I have nothing to say in my own behalf. It takes a lot to silence me, but God is very merciful. I do not think the realization that we have nothing to say to God is exactly humility, but I think it may be related. Going back to the analogy at the beginning, it seems as though I have more of a friendship with Bree than with God; this is probably a good thing. There is no reason God should be merciful to me, but God is mercy. So, “Again and again in peace let us pray to the Lord: Lord, have mercy!”

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:09 PM on Friday, September 10, 2004 [+] ::

(non)-Angst Ridden “Me”

At a Christian college, there are daily chapels. Everyday, a good percentage of the student body gathers to hear a speaker specifically chosen (I assume) for his ability to “speak to college students,” whatever that means. Yesterday, I had the privilege of hearing a speaker who was introduced as “someone who really understood college kids” (“kids?” Hello?). He spoke from I Pet 5 and Job; he told us about how Satan roams around looking for people to devour. His message was fine, but his main point was that we are all going through Satan’s testing. All the time. Every one of us. We should “be real” in front of God and each other and admit that we are all filled with pain from the difficulties of living our faith and are all greatly tried at every point in our Christian lives, which are filled with suffering and persecution.

Hello? I felt like the only one in the chapel who was not an angst-ridden “college kid.” “Real?” You want me to be real? I live in a very comfortable, air-conditioned room, have a full meal plan, a warm bed, friends who love me, and wonderful health; I go to my dream school, study in the field of my passion, and have nearly all of the comforts I could desire. Heck, I even go to a Christian school, where religious persecution is relatively (for most) low. I am not angst-ridden. Ungrateful? yes. Persecuted? no. So, am I the only one?

Afterword, I wanted to ask him, “If I do not feel persecuted or attacked right now, what does that mean?” I knew his answer, however, and did not feel as though I should waste his time; he had plenty of angst-ridden students surrounding him. He would have told me I was either not being honest, or that I did not have a good Christian life. Both of those statements are false; Sure, I fall into the sin of lying (forgive me!), and I am far from good at being a Christian, but by God’s grace, I am struggling toward Him daily.

During a subsequent discussion with one of my tutors and a group of peers, we decided the problem is that we live too much of a ‘normal’ (and good) life. We have a media that tells us everything should be dramatic and action-filled; then we have our lives, which are routine, and “boring.” We seek constant stimulation when we realize how boring our life really is, so we tell ourselves we have “angst” to remain stimulated and keep boredom at bay. Even more ironically, we seek to be “individuals” in our angst; unfortunately, I was in a whole chapel of such “individuals” yesterday, and they all seemed strangely similar…We are so afraid of boredom in our lives, we will do anything to avoid it; we are so saturated with information that we will do anything to keep this flow of information coming.

We must have our TV, our radio, our “noise.” What if we turned it off? We would have to see ourselves, hear our own thoughts, and probably be scared with the sad estate of our lives. Now THAT would be angst I could abide. If, when someone cuts himself off from the constant aural and visual stimulation of “noise” and sees the depravity of his own soul, he should rightly weep as he sees his own pathetic state. This is not this phony pain we try to claim is “real,” to feed our egos; it is the pain that drives us away from ourselves, and into repentance. It is this real pain that we fear, not the pain our speaker was talking about when he said he wanted us to “be real.” The good thing about this painful repentance, though, is that we are blessed if we weep, for we shall be comforted.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:40 AM on Friday, September 03, 2004 [+] ::

Awkward Prayer

I like to talk about Church. A lot. Just ask anyone I know; I like Church, theology, and all that sort of related stuff. I have been chatting with my new roommate about such things as we have been hanging out recently. We talk about all sorts of random subjects relating to Church…there is nothing that is really off limits, but at the same time, we know enough not to offend each other or be rude.

So, I’ll talk about any matter of Church with her. But…Why can’t I seem to pray when she’s in the room? The sad part is that it is not her fault at all: it’s totally me; I am pathetic. I hate the feeling that I am being “watched” in Church or when praying. It is as though when I make the sign of the cross, I am somehow showing off. I never want people to say, “Oh, you’re just doing that so people will see and think you are holy! Well, you’re not, and you’re proving it now!” I don’t want my roommie to think I am doing it because I think I am holy or because am somehow special. I want to do it because, well, that is what one does when one prays “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” I fear she thinks I am displaying some sort of piety…of course, she doesn’t, and I really am not pious! I know that, while she vehemently disagrees with me, she respects what I am doing and would not disturb me.

I am far to afraid of what other will think about me. Why do you judge me? Trust me, I am far less pious than you think I am! Maybe when I pray I look holy, but if you have ever actually met me, I am nothing of the sort. I do not want people to see me when I pray; I am far too awkward when praying alone, and I generally won’t pray with people around.

Why am I so self-conscious? I know I should not change the way I pray because people are around, but at the same time, it would be nice to not have ikons, and to sit at my desk and pray, and not make the sign of the cross or bow or anything. But…I do not think that would be good. Anyway, I’d miss the ikons. Perhaps I should just learn to be less awkward…I just can’t shake the feeling that people think I am praying to be seen, rather than to pray. As a result, of course, I cannot focus on my prayers and they are useless…pray for me, a sinner!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 7:23 PM on Saturday, August 28, 2004 [+] ::

Back to School

So, I survived summer (whew! It was LONG and BUSY), and am now back at school. I worked almost 72 hours in 5 days last week, so posting was down. Now, however, I will be back to the normal 3x per week (or so)…provided I can juggle 19 units and a part-time job…ah, the joys of college life!

I received an unasked-for blessing today. I was feeling slightly trepidatious about being at a Protestant school, although I love it so much I would never leave (Torrey rocks!!) I received a blessing today, however, in the form of an interesting letter from my new mentor. He is a brilliant theologian, and I know he will be good and challenge me. I also know that he will respect my faith and not try to ‘subvert’ it; I was almost certain of this when I initiated the switch, but the letter was very reassuring. It will be a good, busy semester.

Well, please keep me, a sinner, in your prayers; I keep many of you in mine. Here’s to a good school year all around!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:09 PM on Tuesday, August 24, 2004 [+] ::

Martyrdom

Do you want to be a martyr?The other day, I was posed this question by my SF. I thought for a second…then slowly shook my head. No, I do not want to be a martyr. But should I?

I think the gut reaction of a Christian is to resoundingly answer “yes!” For new Christians (no matter your affiliation!), they seek this glorification and the martyr’s crown (estephanos). They do not know what it means to be a martyr, and to suffer for what they believe. They have more zeal than they probably should (but hey, who am I to judge?), which is good, but they also have never experienced a taste of the persecution that comes with martyrdom.

If we move a few years, or experiences, forward in a Christian’s life, we will find the answer of “no.” If I may judge myself, I think this is where I probably fit. I do not want to die for my faith; I just want to be left alone to practice it. I do not want to struggle, fight, or suffer. I am not saying that I am apathetic, but rather that I want to live as a Christian, not die as one.

I think there is another stage of a Christian’s life. This is the stage that many of the early saints reached. St. Iranaeus, St. Justin Martyr, and many listed in Eusebius’ “History of the Christian Church” had a burning desire for their own martyrdom. They wanted to die for Christ. While this is partly due to circumstances (political, social, religious), it is also partly due to the great faith of these early saints. Of course, it would not be good for us as Christians today to be running to the doors of Washington and yelling, “I’m a Christian: kill me!” But at the same time, I think there are a surprising few of us who really would be willing to die for our faith. This is a level of holiness that few reach.

So, do you want to be a martyr? I don’t think I do, but I hope that one day I will have that faith. Until now, I will interpret the question in context: I do not want to stick out for my faith at school. I do not want to be martyred: I do not seek debates about my faith to get beat up (not only because I’d loose, but because it would be bad). So, here I remain, living the life of a Christian, and trying not to get martyred.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 9:56 PM on [+] ::

Fear of Holiness

Each Liturgy, the deacon (or priest) tell us to draw near to the chalice “with fear of God and faith and love.” I think it is self-evident as to why we should draw near with faith and love: even if we do not understand what these are, they are things commonly attitudes associated with Church.

But fear? What are we to fear? Well, from the point of view of someone who is fearful of priests, lemme tell you. Fear the holy. It is powerful, and so we should respect that power; while being rather sure it will not hurt us, we should still keep in mind that it is holy, ie. “set apart” from us.

So why fear priests? They are holy: at least, they are supposed to be. If you wear a rassa, there is a certain first impression of respect and fear that comes with the outfit. I openly admit: some clergy I fear only as far as they wear the rassa; I had the ‘pleasure’ of arguing with a staunchly evolutionist priest once, and by the end of the conversation, I only respected him in as much as he was a priest. It is possible for the fear of what is supposedly holy to be misplaced.

Then, it is possible to fear people for the exact opposite reason: they are holy. They are unsettling. When they speak to me, it is as though they can see through me. Actually, that’s not the unnerving part. The truly unnerving part is that they still speak to me ! I think that’s part of what makes them holy, but at the same time, it is part of what makes them scarier.

I’ll end with a C.S. Lewis quote with which I often sign my emails: “...to become holy is rather like joining a secret society. To put it at the very lowest, it must be great fun."

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:19 AM on Thursday, August 19, 2004 [+] ::

Well Said…

I don’t listen to much music; actually, I don’t listen to any music but on rare occasion. I haven’t for a few years now; it is merely distracting noise and makes me irritable. This is an older song from the brief year in high school when I did listen to music; the words came into my head the other day. It was one of my favorite songs, and I can still see why; the words speak my thoughts.

Cast Out My Doubts

Sometimes I fear maybe I'm not chosen
You've hardened my heart like Pharaoh
That would explain why life is so hard for me

And I am sad that Esau hated
Crying against what's fated
Saying, “Father, please, is there any left for me?”

Chorus
Cast out my doubts, please prove me wrong
'Cause these demons can be so headstrong
Make my walls fall, please prove me wrong
'Cause this resentment's been building
Burn them up with your fire so strong
If you can before I Baal, please prove me wrong

I fear maybe this is all just a game
Our friends and our families all play too
Harness the young and give some comfort to the old

Chorus

Don't let my doubts prove true
Draw me close and hold me near to you
Keep me still until the day you…

Chorus

-Caedmon’s Call, “Cast Out My Doubts,” Long Line of Leavers

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:17 PM on Monday, August 09, 2004 [+] ::

Let My Prayer Arise In Thy Sight As…DEET

Last week, I went up to the monastery to ask Fr. Sergious some questions. Usually everything smells quite heavily of incense, especially Fr. Sergious with his black podroznik and beard giving off the sweet aroma. But, because of the West Nile Virus outbreak in Napa, only a few miles up river from the monastery, everything smells like DEET. Of course, last I checked mosquitoes don’t like strong incense much more than DEET, but…

Anyway, I asked a ton of questions. It was really, really good. I am almost willing to say that ::shock:: I am not shy of Fr. Sergious any more. Most of the questions were simple, pastoral questions; of course, I got anything but simple answers, but so is life. In the community up there, not much is secret; it is a small group, and very familiar. My questions were along the lines of a Confession; it was a list of lots of the dumb things I had done and questions about them. So after vespers, the group (6 people) sat around the table, and Sarah very politely asked “Should we exit stage-right?” She was ready to excuse herself and the rest of the group to go off and finish the few after-vespers tasks. “No, stay; these are good questions you should hear the answers to.” Fr. responded. I was just about the ask that they go, but Sarah’s glance caught my eye and I shut my mouth. I was extremely uncomfortable for about the first 5 minutes, but then I gave up and stopped being embarrassed. I mean, I stopped being embarrassed of it: the questions, the people hearing them, the stupid things I had done. It was really shocking to realize that as far as sins go, I’ve done ‘um, and so have they, and no one is going to judge me; worse yet, most are obvious to the people who know me, and are of no shock to them anyway. I’ll admit, I thought I would die for about five minutes, but after a moment, it was as if I had permission to ask questions and not really care what anyone thought.

So, I found myself surprisingly not shy today at Transfiguration. Yeah, I get my foot in my mouth, I say stupid things at the wrong time, and I generally am awkward. But, it seems not to matter much anymore. And it was really good to ask the whole list of questions. Of course, understanding the answers…one of the simple ones was “Do you have any book recommendations?” I was saying that I had just finished “Unseen Warfare,” and was asking for more interesting reading along the same lines. It didn’t seem too profound, but the answer was “You should read the Bible.” At first I didn’t think I was communicating my question well, so I rephrased and recontextualized twice, and got the same answer. So…uh…I guess I should read the Bible.

It is good to finally get definite answers to the questions I had never asked before. Fr. Sergious has the attitude of an Athonite, and especially one who has become an abbot: his way, or the highway. Some of my questions involved the conflicting views of various people and the confusion I have as one person hearing different people say different things. I admit, he is pretty unapologetic, but it is nice to hear, “Well, it is wrong to do that. The right way is…” It is good; very good. I finally have some sort of roots, some solid answers, and someone to whom I can ask questions. Unfortunately, I now leave for school in 2 weeks, but…glory to God for all things!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 4:06 PM on Friday, August 06, 2004 [+] ::

Sproznidkom!

Happy Transfiguration!

What exactly happens today? Jesus goes from being a God-man to being something like a super God-man. Is there really a transfiguration? Yes; he gets all white and glow-y and Peter, James, and John are so scared that they fall down. Also, no; he is still Jesus. There is no addition to his glory or God-head as he is transfigured; it is simply revealed to a greater extent.

Peter’s comment has always peaked my curiosity. In Protestant circles, Peter is rebuked for his comment about building three “booth” (Jewish Feast of Booths is related to Transfiguration…) or “tabernacles” on the mountain. The general Protestant reaction is that Peter wanted to preserve a “mountain-top” experience of God, and did not want to return to everyday life, but only wanted to remain secluded and with God. As a summer camp-counselor, this is what we would commonly discuss with the kids on the day they went home; it is wrong to want to dwell with God away from the world, and rather we must return. Whether or not this is theologically accurate (and I tend to think now that it is not), this was the teaching.

Last night, in the hymnography, it is said that St. Peter doesn’t know what he is talking about. He is ignorant, and that is why he makes the comment. Today after Liturgy, I asked Fr. Sergious about it, and he said that it was because Peter was trying to contain the uncontainable God. Fr. went into a little more philosophy about how it is impossible to say “God is” and apophatic definitions, but the idea was that in trying to build a tabernacle, Peter was not allowing God to be God, but was trying to limit him so he could understand him.

Peter seems to get his foot perpetually in his mouth; the poor guy can’t say anything right. But as soon as you notice this, you also notice that he was the one who founded the Church among the Jewish people. And if a guy that holy can say the wrong thing so regularly, what chance do I have?

Sproznidkom!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 3:57 PM on [+] ::

Trivia Time

OK, with all of you geniuses out there, someone has to know…what ever happened to Ode II of a canon?

Props to the first person who can answer…

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 9:06 PM on Monday, August 02, 2004 [+] ::

Confession (Part 1 billion of…)

So, I am sitting looking at this paper that I have which outlines a basic confession. It’s simple enough: it is a list of sins. It is not particularly specific, but neither is it too broad. It has about 75 or so sins. I should get this, right?

Of the sins on the paper, I have committed quite nearly all of them. So, I’m a sinner. I already knew that. But I guess because I have committed nearly all of them, I do not feel particularly sinful. I have the wrong attitude of, “Oh, well. From the looks of this paper, nearly everyone has done that sin, so I guess I’m just like them.” I mistakenly don’t feel any sorry for the sins listed here. I would dare to say that I am inclined to be proud of the very sins I should despise. “Yeah, I remember the time I lied to that sucker. Boy, he sure deserved that, since he is such a slacker…and I got away with it so beautifully! That was great!” I just compound my sins.

So…as far as writing a life-time confession, I can list my sins easy enough. I did this, that, and the other thing. But feeling sorry? Compunction? Repentance? Trying to do better? Well, I usually don’t try to sin, but when I do, I rarely feel sorry for it. I do not fully understand the weight of my sins, or the consequences thereof. I live in enough comfort and ease that if I “mess-up,” I can usually fix it with only a little hassle. It must be possible to develop repentance, tears, contrition and the like, but I have a long road ahead of me! I read about saints (St. Mary of Egypt comes to mind) who spent their whole lives repenting of their sins. I can’t even spend 5 minutes feeling sorry for my sins without feeling sorry for myself (which is bad).

Of course, the irony of this is that I will probably be way shy when I actually have to say the confession that I have written. Stupid pride. The one time I should not be ashamed of my sins is probably the only time I will be. Ah, the irony of this sinner’s life.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 9:53 PM on Wednesday, July 28, 2004 [+] ::

God’s Timing: the pieces are coming together

So, my posts have been a little distracted and spotty recently. This shows both that I am busy with school (which ended Thursday), and now busy with a 60-hour/week job (starts TOMORROW). It also shows that God didn’t take either of these into consideration with his whole timing thing.

Let me digress into story-time for a brief paragraph. I have been going to the monastery for Liturgy for the last few weeks this summer. The last week of June, I’d had a conversation with a Sarah, a friend at the monastery; we’d discussed various sacraments and Church stuff. Then on July 5th, up at Fort Ross, there was a sort of “itch” in my soul. It was something that I couldn’t quite describe, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. I vaguely knew what it was, but I also knew that as I couldn’t describe it in words to myself, I certainly couldn’t describe it in words to anyone else, especially being as shy as I am. So, I wrote her a rather general letter to Sarah, asking a little about Confession.

The key here is that I wrote the letter to Sarah , not to Fr. Sergious. But, I know Sarah, and I knew she would show it to Father (actually, she read it to him). It was written in a vague and overly formal style. It didn’t ask many pointed questions, but alluded to things and beat around the bush. I vaguely asked how one goes about asking a priest to hear a confession, procedural stuff, and irritating technical details.

Anyway, as I was venerating the cross after Liturgy last week, he said, “Yes, yes, yes. Everything in the letter: yes.” While I assumed he would read the letter, sometimes I do not understand what he says, and I figured I would smile, nod, and ask Sarah about the letter. Well…I did find Sarah, but she told me to go find Father. He actually found me, and handed me a paper entitled “A Short Confession before one’s spiritual father.” I opened my mouth to protest, but I kind of got cut off. He explained what a spiritual father is, and what it means that he is now mine.

Wow. I had kind of assumed he would play along with the ‘game-like’ atmosphere of the letter; vague and shy. I felt a little like I’d been thrown into the river that runs through the monastery. Actually, it was really, really good, and the kick-start I probably needed. I think he knew I was far too shy to ask him, although I really wanted to; he answered from the letter far more than I had the courage to ask. It has been a week now, and I am still trying to let it sink in. Why would someone who is holy want to deal with me? Shouldn’t people like Fr. Sergious spend time on people with potential, rather than the rest of us? Aren’t I somehow a waste of time? I still can’t believe it…

It is like all of the elements are suddenly coming together now. Of course, I am incredibly busy right now, and do not have time to sit and pray and think about all this, but it seems like so many pieces are falling into place. I am loosing my battle against Orthodoxy. Unfortunately, the summer ends so soon, and I will have to go back to school. I finally got the nudge I needed, and now I already have to go back. I ask then now for your prayers. I am in the process of writing my lifetime confession. I don’t have the time for any of this, but it is all happening right now. Please, pray for me.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 10:20 PM on Sunday, July 25, 2004 [+] ::

The Substantiary Nature --- Of US!

I know this is not exactly a shock, but I am usually rather shy of priests and the like. I am usually fine watching them serve; I know they are not paying much attention to the people in the congregation (in a good way; they are praying). Usually I can kind of blend in and there is a certain feeling that I am just part of the whole ship, moving its way to salvation.

Today, during the Liturgy (up at the monastery), I got scared of Fr. Sergious. It has caught my attention each time I have seen it, but this time I not only thought about what he was saying, but also saw the look on his face as he was saying it. It has to be the ump-teenth Liturgy he has served, and the ump-teenth time he has said those words. But I heard them today.

We have a substantiary nature. During one of the prayers of consecration, Fr. Sergious turns toward the congregation, comes through the Royal Doors, lifts up his hands, and says, “Again we offer unto thee this reasonable and unbloody service, and beseech thee and pray thee and supplicate thee: send down thy Holy Spirit upon us …and upon these Gifts here spread forth:” He always stops and turns back before continuing with the “…and upon these Gifts here spread forth.” He is offering us up to God to be transformed by the Holy Spirit. We are the Eucharist (the crumbs from the bread representing the individuals in the community), and now we are also sanctified like the Eucharist. Spooky! But, it does answer some questions about substantiary nature: of course, as soon as I know how to ask the questions that it answers…

Albeit the ump-teenth time he had said those words, I could somehow see again the look of the “Church” on his face, and it scared me. It was not my usual, semi-bashful shyness that keeps me quiet when there are people around; this was more of a cowering type of fear. The Church, dare I say Christ, held out the mysteries, sanctifying the people, along with the bread and the wine. There was more than one priest-monk praying for his small community. It was as if he were praying to a God that he knew so well; he knew Him so well that there was no doubt that He would come and sanctify the people, bread, wine, and eventually the whole world. Don’t take this the wrong way, but he looked a little like a medieval sorcerer at the end of a fantasy movie, conjuring the ultimate, glorious display of power; there was perfect confidence, but at the same time there was the need to actually do it.

It was startling; it was another one of those moments when I was suddenly was in a different time-period, or maybe not really in time altogether…maybe I’m just crazy.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 6:27 PM on Sunday, July 18, 2004 [+] ::

They Lied! And I Believed Them!

Note: The last line of the previous post is so true…For a week now, I cannot shake the feeling that my soul is somehow changed…

Ever since I can remember, I have gone to church. Sunday school. Summer camp. Vacation Bible School. Youth group. And at all of these places, people have been telling me, “God! God is awesome, powerful, He’ll never leave you, and He can do anything. There’s also this eternal place called heaven, and it’s wonderful; it’s forever!” Through their words, they fostered a passionate love of God and a deep dedication to Him in my impressionable young mind.

So, I guess they expected me to rebel. Or something. See, now those same people are coming to me and saying, “Well, yes, God is good and heaven is nice and all, but you need to focus on the real world. Stop thinking about all that God-stuff; it’s only for little kids and old women. You need to make up your own mind about things; trusting in God, yes, but not too much.” I guess when most ‘churchy’ kids become teens, they rebel and wake up and see the ‘real world.’ They realize that they will have to make it for themselves; this vague idea called ‘prayer’ their parents taught them is just an imaginary thing built on clouds, not facts. I guess no one expects people to take it seriously, or if they do, they temper it with a good dose of reality.

It was as though the words of the adults were just that: words. The way they said it, the passion with which they spoke these words into my life: “Love God, Erica; He is worthy of your life!” They must have been deceptive. And I believed them! Now I look at what they are telling me. They say that to study theology or ecclesiology is a waste of time; sure, go to church on Sunday, but don’t get too involved in it. They say I am “smart” and should do something that is ‘worthy of the gifts God has given you,’ rather than theology. They tell me I will waste my life if I follow this path of childsplay and impractical things like God. They will condescend sometimes, “Sure, there’s a God. But you should do ____ rather than serve Him.”

Sometimes I want to yell to them, “Then you lied to me! You told me God was real, that He is not a fantasy; you told me that He was worthy of all I could give Him. You told me that He will watch out for me. You told me…” But I quickly fall silent…there is nothing I can say. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I need to return to the ‘real world,’ their world, where “religion” is a duty which one must fulfill from 8:30-10:30 on Sunday morning. They say my world is one that is for a time passed; this is the modern world. Young women need to get degrees in practical things so they can work full time and earn a living; they don’t need to study ridiculous things that won’t provide a steady income.

Perhaps they are right and I should put ‘childish’ things away and become an ‘adult;’ I should party with ‘other’ friends. Sometimes, in growing up, it is as if they were giving me permission to rebel, get in trouble, or break their rules. I am not old enough to drink, but somehow I think they would be happier if I went out and got drunk at an orgy than went to church!

Why am I not like most people? Why can’t I be happy with their ‘religion?’ Oh, and for those of you who think I am ‘just’ a convert who has recently “discovered” religion, let me assure you, my past credentials speak otherwise. This is not something new; this is not something that I have developed since I found Orthodoxy; no, this is the reason I found Orthodoxy. This is the reason I turned down very prestigious schools to go to a Christian school. I can’t just have a once-a-week religion.

It is so frustrating sometimes. They say to have faith, but then turn right around and say that I shouldn’t. We’re not even talking a words-deeds disconnect: we are talking a words-words disconnect. I do not understand them. I don’t understand the world; I know many pious people who do this, and I do not understand it. Either Christ is raised, and my faith is not in vain, or I am of all men most miserable. Lord, have mercy!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 7:43 PM on Monday, July 12, 2004 [+] ::

5th of July

So…the holiday is the 4th, I know, but I had more fun on the 5th.

I live about an hour south of Fort Ross, California, an old Russian fort built shortly after the Russians discovered Alaska.

Anyway, for the 4th of July (actually the 5th), Bp. Benjamin, the new Bishop of Berkeley, was celebrating liturgy there. It was (literally) really cool (and windy, foggy, &c). There were three priests and a deacon celebrating with him, and about 60 people in the audience. I do not know how many spoke English, but I would guess it was roughly half American and half Russian. After the liturgy, we went to walk up about half a mile to the old graveyard to have a Moleiben.

The hike up to the grave yard was the best part of it all. One of the monks from Pt. Reyes, Fr. Elijah, was in a bright red altar boy vestment and was carrying a large iconographic cross in the front. Behind him were the rest of the monks, various types of clergy, and a small handful of laymen. But the monks were the coolest looking. We were walking toward the ocean, and were only a few hundred feet from it, so the wind was blowing directly at us. They were in a straight line, with their veils majestically flowing from their high kamilavkas. As they moved, you could catch glimpses of unkempt hair or beard also blowing in the wind. They were all in riassas, which gave a floating, rather than walking, effect to their movements. As we started up the hill, they began chanting the troparion to the cross. Their movements, like the solemn Russian melody, was slow and purposeful; there was nothing frivolous or hurried about either their actions or haunting song.

I caught my breath. I had to stop and check the century. Yes, there were cars parked in the far-off parking lot. Yes, this is still the 21st century. But, looking back in front of me, no, there was no time. It could have been 1000 years ago, and the scene would have been unchanged. As I walked up the hill, I couldn’t help but feel I had been given some secret glimpse into a time-less world. There is nothing new here, nothing to hurry about, nothing that hasn’t been done before. Time does not affect this world; it is as changeless as the black riassas flowing in the salty wind. In my world of hectic change and constant motion, I received immeasurable encouragement from seeing these black-robed monks walk along their way, chanting solemnly and slowly. It was like a holy pilgrimage to an unknown place. I was somehow out of place; it was like I had snuck into the group, and did not really belong there. My whole soul leap for joy, but at the same time I couldn’t shake the nagging fear that if they somehow knew who I was and the sins I had committed, they wouldn’t have let me be there. It was too beautiful, too holy, too humbly majestic for the likes of me. But I saw it. If they knew me, they would have kicked me back out, into my world of chaos and change and cluttered noise. I shouldn’t have been permitted to see the timeless, mysterious, glorious beauty of the scene. But I was there. I saw beauty, and it did something to my soul.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 6:46 PM on Wednesday, July 07, 2004 [+] ::

Convert’s Zeal

Now, I know most of you who are reading this are converts; in fact, I can only think of 4 of you who I know are not converts to Orthodoxy. For you cradles, you will understand the proposed bumper sticker, “O Lord, save us from the converts!” For you converts, I am sure you have heard this sentiment expressed.

It is undeniable; there is such a thing as convert’s zeal. We have all seen it, and most of us have probably experienced it. It is that first few months/year or so of being in the Orthodox church (or any church, although Evangelicals strongly deny it!) where the proselyte can speak and think of nothing else than the wonder of the church he has recently joined. But this is necessary, and not to be mocked.

I resent the mockery of ‘convert’s zeal.’ While it would seem more ‘fair’ if this mockery came from cradle Orthodox, most often (in my experience), it comes from other converts! While I have the feeling this may be either jealousy or pot-kettle calling, it is not fair to the new convert. Convert’s zeal is one of God’s great gifts to converts. Switching religions is hard , really hard, and the grace that a convert has that makes him desirous to attend more services, study and read more, and generally become more active in the life of the church is something he desperately needs. To use myself as my example: My parents are not Orthodox, or even very friendly to the idea; My school is openly hostile to what I believe, and many people are not afraid to make their damnation of my belief evident. If it were not for ‘convert’s zeal,’ conversion would be impossible. Often for converts living in a difficult situation, the church is the only place where we can go and NOT be mocked or belittled for our religion. Therefore, for you cradles out there, and especially you converts who are more level-headed, do not mock those who are new and who need your help. The very church that they are trying to join should not be a participant in the mockery they deal with enough in the rest of life.

Of course, I cannot really complain. My priest here at home is cradle Orthodox; the priest emeritus is even more cradle Orthodox (comically so, oftentimes). Although I am not sure why, it seems to be much easier to be a convert around cradle priests; I am oddly enough more comfortable around the older of the two of them. Perhaps because he has the grace to ignore my stupid ‘convert’s zeal’ and rather knows enough to allow me to be my oddly theological self. I don’t know.

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 6:06 PM on [+] ::

b> Christian, or Orthodox?

The other day, my brother and I were having a rather random discussion about church architecture. I don’t remember all of the details, but we were making a differentiation between Buddhist temples which face North-South and Christian churches which face East-West. Without thinking anything about it, I said, “Well, that’s because Christian churches face East, with the altar on the East side and the doors on the West side.” His immediate response was, “You don’t mean Christian, you mean Orthodox.” Well…do I?

Often times, I will differentiate between Christian and non-Christian religions by using a phrase like, “Christians do this, but Moslims do that.” I will say things like “Christians can eat pork,” or “Christians can only have one wife” of “Christians believe in the resurrection of the body.” Is it appropriate to say these things? It would seem that when dealing with non-Christians (like Moslims), this is appropriate. But what about when dealing with other Christians? SDA’s don’t eat pork. LDS (or at least parts) can have multiple wives. And many liberal Christians don’t believe in the bodily resurrection. So, is it then wrong for me to say “Christian,” or should I stick with “Orthodox?”

My brother’s reaction to the directional orientation of the temple was that I was cutting all Protestants off from being Christians because they did not believe or practice that. I would say that until really recently, all Christian temples, on both sides, were oriented East/West, and only very recently (100 years) has it been acceptable to change this. Am I excluding some who call themselves Christians by ascribing Christianity as the motive for my actions and assumptions?

I use the terms “Christian” and “Orthodox” almost interchangeably. Now, I do not go around saying that one must be Orthodox to be a Christian; I know where grace is, not where it is absent. However, if people ask me in the cafeteria if I am a vegan when I ask about the food, I will answer, “Kinda,” and hope the conversation ends. When I am feeling mischievous (most of the time), or if they press the point, I will answer, “I’m a Christian, and sometimes we don’t eat meat.” It is a true statement, isn’t it? I am at least kinda a Christian (not sure about the technical status in the eyes of the Church, but…), and believe you me, if it were not a fast season, I would devour that meat.

I guess I am then asking: should we use the terms interchangeably? Is it divisive, or simpler? Is it rude? I do not to have a problem with it, but…whadda y’all think?

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 7:51 PM on Wednesday, June 30, 2004 [+] ::

An Answer: Part II of II

I have discovered not only an answer to the previous post, but yet another reason that I am not really Orthodox. Previously, I asked why the Orthodox church, at least from the point of view of the converts, another choice in church preference like the Nazarene or Reformed churches.

As Karl points out in the comments of the last post, I think it can be summarized in two words: Spiritual Fathers. Or, more specifically, the discipline imposed by someone else to which you must submit yourself. It is fine to come into a denominational church and still make all your own decisions about that denomination. The fracturization of modern Protestant denominations attests to this: some Episcopalians do it this way, and some do it this way. I am not even talking on the level of ecclesiology, but on the level of the individual believer. He is still accountable primarily to himself. If he wants to keep this or that fast, if he wants to have this or that prayer rule, if he wants to…It is still all about what the individual believer wants to do. With the Orthodox church, there are funny things called rules . Now, I am not a Pharisee or in anyway trying to de-emphasize the concept of oekoinomia or grace, but there are still things that people do that are not of their own choosing . It is not the doing of the action (some Baptists fast more than some Orthodox), but the motive behind the action (the Orthodox has someone else saying “fast this way,” while the Baptist does it of his own choice).

It is the existence of an authority outside of the individual that makes Orthodoxy more than another denomination, and not just another choice of churches. With denominations, the individual is still allowed to make his individual decisions about his salvation; with Orthodoxy, there is a church that does things a certain way, and more specifically, there is a Spiritual Father that helps the individual believer.

So, while I know this is probably not profound to anyone but me, I have also realized why I am not Orthodox. I kinda look it, I may even kinda think like it, but I am still such a Protestant who is denomination-hoping. I do not submit my will to anyone. Sure, I have a prayer rule and I keep the fasts, and do all that good stuff. But that is just stuff that I do because I want to . It is still all about me. ::sigh:: Will I ever change?

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 5:22 PM on Sunday, June 27, 2004 [+] ::

The Liberals Are Coming…

For all of you who haven’t heard, there is a new “Bible” translation called “Good As New” out by an England-based group called One . To put it lightly, they are liberal. To put it more severely, they have completely perverted the Bible, not only taking it out of context, but exactly reversing its message. Here are some examples:

Mark 1:4

KJV: "John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins."

New: "John, nicknamed 'The Dipper,' was 'The Voice.' He was in the desert, inviting people to be dipped, to show they were determined to change their ways and wanted to be forgiven."

Mark 1:10-11

KJV: "And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him. And there came a voice from the heaven saying, Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."

New: "As he was climbing up the bank again, the sun shone through a gap in the clouds. At the same time a pigeon flew down and perched on him. Jesus took this as a sign that God's spirit was with him. A voice from overhead was heard saying, 'That's my boy! You're doing fine!'"

I Corinthians 7:1-2

KJV: "Now concerning the things whereof ye wrote unto me: [It is] good for a man not to touch a woman. Nevertheless, [to avoid] fornication, let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband."

New: "Some of you think the best way to cope with sex is for men and women to keep right away from each other. That is more likely to lead to sexual offences. My advice is for everyone to have a regular partner."

I Corinthians 7:8-7

KJV: "I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I. But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn."

New: "If you know you have strong needs, get yourself a partner. Better than being frustrated."

Um… that’s exactly what they all meant in the original Greek. Whadda ya think ‘The Dipper’ would say about this? I dunno…I just don’t think the phrase “Really cool Rocky, pray to God for us!” has the same ring as “Holy St Peter, pray to God for us!” But then again, I am one of those weird people who believes in the funny thing called the Creed.

Speaking of the Creed, One’s site contains some of the most unabashedly liberal “biblical” scholasticism I have come across to this day. I think I want to read the whole thing just so I know how stupid they are. Oh, and their next project is to rewrite the creed, just like they rewrote the Bible. This article speaks of such things as “the idiom of the resurrection,” and its invention because of Jesus’ continuing influence in the lives of his disciples. They flat out deny things like the Virgin birth, Jesus’ Godhead, His Sonship, and a slew of other things (I haven’t read it too carefully yet.) Lord have mercy!

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 9:56 PM on Saturday, June 26, 2004 [+] ::

The Orthodox Denomination: Part I of II

I hear it all the time amongst Protestant converts to Orthodoxy: In Protestantism, one can choose a church that will be like him and meet his needs, rather than making him change to what is true. In other words, if I like pre-trib rapture eschatology and 4 point Calvinism, I can find a church. If I suddenly accept the fifth point of the TULIP, I can go find another church to match that belief. It’s kind of like American consumerism: keep shopping around until you find what you like. Don’t you change what you want, but rather allow us to offer you multiple options so that you can stay as you are and find people who are like you.

Then you have that group of Orthodox converts who claim that they are above this petty ‘church shopping’ and have rather “found the true faith.” I find this attitude, especially in myself, reprehensible. For some of us converts (like this one), we treat the Orthodox church like only one of the multiple Protestant denominations. Oh, I know we say it is not a denomination, but how many people have converted because of our American consumerist attitude toward church? What if it is just that the particular “brand” of church I like has incense, bells, vestments, &c. How is this not just another type of condescension to my consumerist self? How is the Orthodox church not simply the church I like, versus someone who likes a more ‘upbeat style of worship?’ How can it be something else to the mind of someone who is as consumerist as myself?

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 1:12 PM on Friday, June 25, 2004 [+] ::

Church in Another Language

Last Saturday, I went to Vespers. Twice. First, I went to St. Seraphim for Vespers. It was good, if short; there was General Confession afterwords, then we all left. Since it was so short, I decided to stop by Sts. Peter and Paul, the local ROCOR church, on my way home.

At Sts. Peter and Paul, no one speaks English. They speak the vernacular of the people: Russian. Actually, more technically, they speak Slavonic in service, with homilies and such in Russian. But whatever. Anyway, I stood through about 2 more hours of service, completely in Slavonic. I do not speak Slavonic. I barely speak English, much less any other language. But, I stood there. I know “the doxos” in Slavonic, and I more or les know the vigil service and am familiar with the melodies they were using; I did not have a particularly hard time following the service.

At one point, somewhere in the first half of the 6 Psalms, a babi came up from behind to tell me that my headscarf was caught in the lampada (of course, something I would do in a church where I cannot speak the vernacular!). She said it in Russian, but the pointing and gesturing made her jist obvious. I stepped forward so as not to hit the lampada. That was it. That was all anyone said to me.

I loved it! It was wonderful. Don’t get me wrong; I am normally social outside of church (by which I mean, outside of service.) But in church, I do not want to talk to anyone. I do not want anyone to talk at me. I want to stand and pray and not have anything to do with you or anyone else. Last Saturday, I stood there. I could follow major parts, and I know most of what was said. If I wanted to look specific troparions or kontakions up and find out more, I could easily do that later. But I was in church, and praying, and no one said anything to me! It was wonderful! It was less distracting, and somehow simpler.

Of course, ROCOR is stricter than OCA, and I knew they would not have allowed me (non Orthodox) to be anointed with the oil at the end. (And I knew if I went up there, I would be unable to explain this to the priest.) So, just when the priest was starting to anoint people, I [loudly] snuck out the back. I know they noticed the new person; there were 8 old babis there, one priest, and one deacon. It wasn’t exactly a crowd I could have ‘disappeared’ into. But at the same time, no one came up and bothered me. I was allowed to anonymously pray. I know this is bad in one way; a large part of church is to function as a community. I need to force myself to stop being so anti-social and to start viewing ‘church’ as a group of people (which is really hard as a college kid always changing churches) rather than as a set of theologically abstract ideas (much easier for those of us who study more theology than anthropology.) But at the same time, it was great to just go to church and not have to worry about people. Perhaps I will be able to get there each Saturday night this summer. Oh, and before Huw or Chrysostomos or someone else says it, I know it is something to ask a priest about, but…yeah…I ain’t Orthodox yet…

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 4:08 PM on Wednesday, June 23, 2004 [+] ::

Holy Father John of San Francisco, pray to God for us!

Here in America, we converts are used to singing hymnography to saints from other places. My parish is dedicated to St. Seraphim of Sarov, and so I am very familiar with his akathist, mentioning things like “Boast of the city of Kurusk” and “the monastery of Sarov.” These places and references do not mean too much to me as a person, since they are completely abstract; yes, I believe that these places exist, but they do not really affect me. Then we get to a Saint like John Maximovich of San Francisco. I have grown up about an hour from ‘the city,’ and so St. John is kind of my ‘hometown’ saint. He is a reminder that sanctity is possible, even in a place like San Francisco, even in a time like the 1960s. Holy Father John, pray to God for us!

Akathist to St. John

Troparion (Tone 5)
Thy care for thy flock in its sojourn has prefigured the supplications which thou didst ever offer up for the whole world. Thus do we believe, having come to know thy love, O holy hierarch and wonder-worker John. Wholly sanctified by God through the ministry of the all-pure Mysteries, and thyself strengthened thereby, thou didst hasten unto suffering, O most gladsome healer--hasten now also to the aid of us who honor thee with all our heart.

Kontakion (Tone 4)
Thy heart hath gone out to all who entreat thee with love, O holy hierarch John, and who remember the struggle of thy whole industrious life, and thy painless and easy repose, O faithful servant of the all-pure Directress.

Troparion (Tone 6)
Glorious apostle to an age of coldness and unbelief, invested with the grace-filled power of the saints of old, divinely-illumined seer of heavenly mysteries, feeder of orphans, hope of the hopeless, thou didst enkindle on earth the fire of love for Christ upon the dark eve of the day of judgment; pray now that this sacred flame may also rise from our hearts.

Kontakion of St John (Tone 8)
Chosen wonderworker and superb servant of Christ/ who pourest out in the latter times/ inexhaustible streams of inspiration and multitude of miracles,/ we praise thee with love and call out to thee:/ Rejoice, holy Hierarch John, wonderworker of the latter times.

[props to Clifton for the hymnography!]

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 5:54 PM on Saturday, June 19, 2004 [+] ::

A Tasteless Post about a Tasteless Shirt

I am generally not offended by tee-shirts that are lewd, tasteless, bawdy, or otherwise explicit or base. In fact, I thought I had seen it all until the other day. On my way to class, I walked by a young man who was wearing what would be classified as a “Christian” tee-shirt that shocked me into silence.

“The Devil is a pimp. Don’t be his ho.” It proclaimed its tasteless message in large, bold, capital letters. Wow. I was taken aback. I object to it on two levels; first, I just think its an unpleasant and crude thing to say, especially to print on a tee-shirt. But I can get over that; some people are crude, and these shirts are for them.

I take issue with the fact that this is defacement of the Christianity in general. Why do people wear this? Better yet, where do people buy a shirt like that? I mean, I can’t even think of a store that would carry something like that. I must have been out of the Evangelical pop-Christian sub-culture too long or something. I can’t a store that would sell that! Why would you make something like that? Is it to defame the Church, or to elevate brothels? I couldn’t decide; I figured since I was on a campus where all students are professing Christians that it was not supposed to insult Christianity, but how can it not? Is it a message to reach a ‘lost’ group of people? I will not get back on my soapbox about whoring the Church after the culture (forgive my own crassness here, but the language is biblical!), but I will say that this disgusts me.

Why would you disrespect Christianity so openly, especially if you yourself claim to be a Christian? I do not understand. Was it a joke I didn’t get? What was the punch line? Must I identify myself with a culture that would produce such slogans? Sometimes I like to think that either the world is crazy, or Christians are crazy. This tee-shirt, however, blurred the line between those and their relative insanity…is it just me that is crazy?

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 5:29 PM on [+] ::

Catechesis that works?

Now that I am back “at home” (if such a phrase can apply to a college student!), at St. Seraphim, I received an official packet of materials for catechumens to read before they are baptized. It is a three inch binder, full of all sorts of information photo copied from various books and articles.

So, I sat down and read it all. I still don’t get it. Literally, hundreds of pages of everything from excerpts from “Great Lent” to our deacon’s term paper from St. Vlad’s. Don’t get me wrong: it is informative, and I could see it as potentially useful. I read large parts from “The Theology of the Icon,” and a whole spate of articles discussing each of the sacraments. There is theology for days there; I now know the names of vestments of each of the various ranks of clergy and their significance in three languages . I can tell you trivia on all sorts of subjects, from early ikon writers to church architecture to random battles in medieval Russia. But I am no closer to becoming Orthodox.

Sometimes I think too much of the focus on the church is to convert the brain of the catechumen. It’s useless, really. I am no more ready for baptism than before I read these many pages. It is not the intellect that needs work; it is the heart, attitude, and soul of the catechumen that needs to be converted. This cannot be done through study; in fact, I think that more study on these subjects for the purpose of catechesis may actually be bad. I am not saying it is bad to read the patristics, but to hand them to a catechumen with the intent of converting him with their content is narrowminded, to say the least. One of the problems, at least for me and perhaps others just being introduced to Orthodoxy, is that if we are presented with theology, we will argue. These articles that tend to speak in an almost apologetical tone. When someone presents one side of an argument, I am not yet strong enough to turn off that irritating voice in my head: “Well, yes, but also…” It is as if they are asking for me to disagree with them. I do not want to argue, but at the same time I do not want to be argued at.

What can be done to focus more on the person than on his intellect? It is kind of a spooky thought when I reflect upon it for a moment. I know perhaps 25 people who have been attending an Orthodox church for less time than I, and they are already baptized. Have they really been converted in a way other than their intellect? Am I really that slow? I know I am nowhere near ready for baptism. How much has our modern American catechetical approach converted the person, rather than just giving him a thin veneer of Orthodox apologia over a secular/Protestant/Roman worldview? The thin veneer worries me; in my cockier moments, I am confident I could argue at least a few of my newly-baptized Orthodox friends back into Western theology. If these people have only been intellectually converted, they can be just as easily swayed to another direction by a better argument. This is dangerous, especially in a world with cocky college students!

Of course, I know conversion is possible; I have seen it occur in at least one specific case, but that involved an individual who returned to ‘the old country’ for a while. But how can it happen today in America? How can it be facilitated into the modern life of a college student? Is it possible, or will I always simply be a Protestant with a head-scarf?

Forgive me,

Seraphima

Glory to God!

:: 6:25 PM on Saturday, June 12, 2004 [+] ::