Today, I decided to close our family’s website, MissionalStew.com. I began the site a couple of years ago with the hopes of highlighting our family’s continual journey in Christ. However, Debbie and I became more cautious about posting photos and videos of our children on the web. Plus, I’ve concentrated my small amount of time on this blog and my photoblog. Throw in Twitter and Facebook and I think there is plenty of opportunity for friends and family to stay updated with our family.
Debbie came up with the name for the website and I still love it. It communicates the messiness and the robustness of walking with Jesus and how it should impact the world in an authentic and hearty way. So, while the website ends, I hope our family continues to follow Jesus in a way that nourishes the world with God’s goodness and beauty.
I’m always saddened when I learn that someone who has been a great influence in my life decides to stop their ministry. Even though I may have never met that person, I still feel like a small, but important part of me is disappearing. I guess it’s the finality of it that ultimately saddens me.
I’m feeling these emotions this morning as I read Steve Robinson latest post. Steve is the cohost of the “Our Life in Christ” podcast, which is perhaps one of the most influential Orthodox Christian podcasts on the web. For years, he and Bill Gould have shared the richness of Orthodox Christianity through their microphones. On top of that, Steve’s internet contributions also include his own podcast on Ancient Faith Radio and his personal blog.
While I’m sad that Steve is ending his podcasts, I’m thrilled about his reasons. Having given himself so much to public ministry in the past, he is now choosing to refocus his time to be with his family. He plans to spend more time with his aging parents, wife, kids and dog. That is so cool. I am very glad for him and respect his decision.
Steve, your voice on the Internet will be missed. But your decision honors the God we love and serve. May God grant you many, many years of fruitful ministry to your family and those he brings into your life.
Recently, I’ve changed my opinion about my iPhone. Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I love my iPhone and think it’s a wonderful item of techno-wizardry. Yet, there is one part of the iPhone of which I’ve been ambivalent — its camera. The iPhone has a 2 megapixel camera. Not bad, but not great. So I’ve viewed it kind of like a toy. Sure, I would take occasional pictures of the kids, but I wouldn’t have thought of using it for any kind of creative digital photography or documenting important family moments.
That is until I saw what a great photographer could do with the iPhone’s camera. Enter Chase Jarvis. This guy is a particularly skilled professional creative. And while he uses some very high-end photo equipment, he also has a gallery of images taken with his iPhone camera and edited simply with iPhone apps.
When I saw his iPhone images, I suddenly became aware of an entire vista of opportunity. Many great photographers recommend constantly carrying a camera. In fact, Chase states, “The best camera is the one that’s with you.” I own two cameras — a Nikon D40x and a Canon PowerShot A620. Constantly carrying either of these cameras throughout my daily activities is out of the question. But my iPhone is always on my hip.
Viewing my iPhone as a viable creative tool is developing a couple of important photography skills. First, I find myself more alert to my surroundings. I’m becoming more aware of the colors and lines and textures around me. Some capture well on the iPhone and some don’t. But I get to enjoy the beauty in the moment nonetheless. Second, because my iPhone’s camera is pretty simple, I’m forced to find simple compositions. This discipline translates well to my other cameras.
So, I not only love my iPhone, but also its simple camera. And I’m using its camera more and more. I’m also using two iPhone image-editing apps — CameraBag and Photogene. The results are far from high quality images. But there is still beauty and splendor. For me, that’s what it’s all about.
If you’re interested, I’m going to be posting my iPhone Photos in two ways. First, I will be posting the images on Twitter along with my other Tweets. You can follow me on Twitter by clicking HERE. I have also created a simple iPhone Photos page on my photoblog that I will update occasionally. You can view the iPhone Photos page by clicking HERE. I’m not sure if I will upload these images to my Flickr account yet, but you can always view my Flickr Photostream HERE.
UPDATE (6/12/09): I have decided to post my iPhone Photos on my Flickr account. I’ve created a new set called creatively enough, “iPhone Photos.” You can view that set by clicking HERE.
Today, I inflicted death. Not metaphorically, but literally. I killed a living creature.
I accidentally ran over a cat with my car.
It was a horrific moment. It seemed to happen in an instant, yet play out in slow motion. The flash of white and brown fur. The sickening thud. The even more sickening lurch as my car’s tire rolled over the cat. Then watching the cat try to stagger away, only to collapse with spasms. A few seconds later it was gone. Dead.
Ironically, I was probably at my best behavior as a driver. I was awake and alert. I had both hands on the steering wheel. I was well under the speed limit. And I wasn’t distracted by my radio or phone. And yet, in that moment, my best still inflicted death.
That’s a very disturbing thought. My best resulted in death. A life was snuffed out by my hands even though everything I was and did in that moment was good.
And the effects will continue rippling outward. Later tonight, a family will wait in vain for their pet to return home. Tomorrow morning they will continue to worry. Perhaps over the next few days they will tape pictures of their cat throughout the neighborhood, hoping someone has found their pet. But, there will be no happy ending to this story.
All I could do in the aftermath was call the police so they could dispatch animal control and leave with a sober reminder of my deficiencies, sorry for what I had done.
Several weeks ago, my family watched Bolt on DVD. While titled after the movie’s main character, it seemed the movie was created to showcase Rhino the hamster. If my family’s outbursts of laughter are any measurement, Rhino virtually stole every scene.
***** Spoiler Alert begins! *****
But one scene caught me totally off guard. At the movie’s climax, Penny, Bolt’s owner, is trapped in a movie studio that is engulfed in flames. Bolt the dog, Mittens the cat and Rhino the hamster rush toward an entrance to the movie studio. Mittens asks, “What should we do?” Bolt responds, “Just make sure I get in there.” Surprisingly, Rhino speeds through the door in his hamster ball and uses his plastic ball to bear the weight of the building’s collapsing metal frame while Bolt shoots past to find Penny. As his plastic ball begins to splinter under the weight, Rhino cries out, “It’s a good day to die!” And in the following seconds of that scene, you realize that he was actually willing to die so that Bolt could go on to save Penny.
***** Spoiler Alert ends (maybe) *****
As the movie’s action continued, my eyes welled with tears and my mind lingered on that scene. Okay, okay, I know it was a cartoon. But there was something poignantly relevant in that moment that needs to be unpacked. Throughout the movie, Rhino gives himself wholeheartedly to the adventure. And at the most crucial moment, when the other side character wonders how to respond, Rhino instinctively and naturally acts. At the instant when everything counts, he automatically does what’s needed. He responds with what the ancient fathers called “virtue.” His courage and self-sacrifice had become second-nature, so embedded in his flesh and bones that he throws himself into certain death on behalf of his friends without even hesitating to think about it. His body and mind operate as a single self-sacrificing unit, “It’s a good day to die!”
Rhino’s character reminds me of something St Paul says in Colossians. He says that he and his compatriots are praying for the Christians in Colossae so that they may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God. Lives worthy of the Lord, in which goodness and knowledge of God are second nature and embedded in flesh and bone so as to be ready to act instinctively in the moment.
So, what does a life worthy of the Lord look like? If the self-help titles available at the local bookstore are any indication, such a life would be success in all areas of living. But is Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection and glorification all about my success in relationships, money and business? I don’t think so. In fact, and this might sound sacrilegious, I don’t think Jesus cares a whole lot about my success. There are much more important things, such as my salvation.
So, if Scripture and the Church’s teaching are the final assessment of a life worthy of the Lord, then such a life should personify sacrifice — instinctive readiness to give myself for the good of others. A life worthy of the Lord is a cruciform life, a life in which every thought, feeling, and action is shaped by Christ’s cross.
In the movie, Rhino yearns to have Bolt’s signature lightning bolt branded upon his fur. Perhaps I need to yearn more for Christ’s cross branded upon my heart.
I enjoy writing. Yet, this hasn’t always been the case. I hated writing as a kid. Up through high school, I was a “math geek” and would take equations over essays any time.
My attitude toward writing began evolving sometime in college, after I had changed my major from Information and Computer Science to Pre-Ministry. By the time I graduated from college, I was enjoying the craft more.
Although I’ve enjoyed writing for a couple of decades now, my appreciation for the craft has continued to transform. Upon graduating from college and entering the full-time pastorate, I was filled with youthful zeal and arrogance. I believed writing would be my key to success and notoriety. I dreamed of writing the next book that would unlock spiritual mysteries and capture the hearts of American Christians.
As I matured in my ministry a little, writing became more utilitarian. Words were the tools for teaching, inspiring and leading. I studied great communicators and their techniques in order to become more successful in my own attempts to impart ecclesiastical vision and theological instruction.
Several years ago, writing shifted into a more reflective craft. I was enamored with the idea of wordsmithing. There was something romantic in the vision of a master wordsmith, a skilled artisan of prose who could sense the grain and texture of words and intuitively assemble them into a masterpiece.
The other day I was thinking about writing and I thought about a new image for a writer — a word-chef. For me, this concept captures the mastery and innovation of a wordsmith, but adds a relational dimension. Like a smith, a chef must also be skilled in his or her craft. She must master tastes, textures and temperatures and know how to combine and present them in artistic and palatable ways. This generates layers of complexity since her creation must play upon all of the senses. Yet, ultimately, a chef’s craft is for another person. As much as she loves creating in her medium, her final product is to be consumed and enjoyed by another. Another will admire the blending of colors, inhale the enticing aromas, detect the subtle textures, and have their palate caressed by the flavors.
That’s the direction I want to progress in my writing. I want to put voice to the inherent beauty around me in such a way that it impacts all of the senses. I dream of working with savory words that will roll around in another’s mouth and evoke images that allow them to experience the tang or sweetness of the moment.
This desire bore itself deeply into my thoughts the other day as I was finishing a walk around my neighborhood. In the warm light of a setting sun, I saw a young man and woman saying goodbye to each other. They held each other, kissed and parted. As the young man rode off on his bike and the girl walked down the street, I noticed a slight smile light upon her face.
It was a touching moment that no one else would witness and I wanted to frame it with words, to write a few sentences that would express the ardor and pathos of young love. And all I could do in that moment was fumble with my inability as the words remained just beyond my reach.
Moments like this occur frequently. And as providence allows me to observe them, I’m hoping beyond measure that I will learn to recount those moments with words like a verbal chef, fashioning a sumptuous meal filled with aroma and flavor that unleashes the magic of imagination.
Today, my oldest daughter, Catherine, turns 15 years old. It’s her Golden Birthday in that she turns the age of her birth date (15 on the 15th). I looked it up on Wikipedia and discovered that the Golden or Grand Birthday is more commonly called the Star Birthday. This is a once in a lifetime event!
My baby girl has grown into such a lovely young woman. She is so creative and friendly. She can make friends wherever she goes and helps everyone feel welcomed and accepted.
One of my favorite moments of the day is with Catherine. She has to be up early every morning for zero period at school, so she’s getting ready for school when I leave for work. As I leave, she always hugs me, kisses my cheek, and says, “I hope you have a good day!”
Happy Golden Birthday, Catherine! May God grant you many, many, many years. I love you very much.
Fr Stephen’s latest post is definitely a “must-read.” The following is but one of many great quotes in this post:
“To gather together in the Liturgy is to enter a new life.”
Read the entire post HERE.
I couldn’t let this pass… One of my favorite Orthodox writers, Fr Ted Bobosh (Am I Saved?) quoting my favorite theologian, NT Wright, about one of my favorite topics, the Church as Christ’s physical body on earth. Too cool!
Read it HERE.
I remember telling Debbie a couple months back that one of the reasons I love Holy Orthodoxy is that it’s a faith so vast and rich that I can never outgrow it. Fr Stephen Freeman’s recent post made me think about my comment and give thanks to God for leading me to this beautiful faith.
Christ is Risen! Truly He is Risen!
Today we celebrate Pascha. This is the day Christ rose from the dead, surprising creation with the inbreaking of God’s New Creation. Death has been trampled by death. God’s glorious future has dawned. His throne is moving from heaven to earth (Rev 22:1-5). And all of us may join him in both experiencing and contributing to the renewal.
The following is the climax of the short, yet stirring Paschal sermon of St John Chrysostom:
Hell was in turmoil having been eclipsed.
Hell was in turmoil having been mocked.
Hell was in turmoil having been destroyed.
Hell was in turmoil having been abolished.
Hell was in turmoil having been made captive.Hell grasped a corpse, and met God.
Hell seized earth, and encountered heaven.
Hell took what it saw, and was overcome by what it could not see.O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?Christ is risen, and you are cast down!
Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!
Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is risen, and life is set free!
Christ is risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead.For Christ, having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.
Glory to God!
Today He is suspended on a Tree who suspended the earth over the waters.
Today He is suspended on a Tree who suspended the earth over the waters.
Today He is suspended on a Tree who suspended the earth over the waters.
A crown of thorns was placed on the head of the King of angels. He who wore a false purple robe covered the heavens with clouds. He was smitten who, in the Jordan, delivered Adam. The Groom of the Church was fastened with nails, and the Son of the Virgin was pierced with a spear.
Thy sufferings we adore, O Christ!
Thy sufferings we adore, O Christ!
Thy sufferings we adore, O Christ!
Make us to behold thy glorious Resurrection!
Back in 2007, Paul Potts stunned the world with his incredible operatic voice on Britain’s Got Talent. The surprise wasn’t his voice, but such a beautiful voice unexpectedly springing from the kind of person everyone assumed Paul was from just his looks.
Well, it’s happened again. This video of Susan Boyle on Britain’s Got Talent, has circulated around the internet and TV, but it’s worth watching repeatedly. It’s a great metaphor of God’s kingdom and an appropriate reminder that authentic beauty can be found in the most unassuming places. I love sneak-attacks by beauty.
If you missed the link above, click HERE to view the YouTube video.
With epic simplicity the Gospel records that, on coming to the scene of the horrible end of His friend, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). At this moment Lazarus, the friend of Christ, stands for all men, and Bethany is the mystical center of the world. Jesus wept as He saw the “very good” creation and its king, man, “made through Him” (John 1:3) to be filled with joy, life and light, now a burial ground in which man is sealed up in a tomb outside the city, removed from the fullness of life for which he was created, and decomposing in darkness, despair and death. – Very Rev. Paul Lazor, Orthodox Church of America Website
Today is the last day of Great Lent for Orthodox Christians. Tomorrow begins the journey through Holy Week, climaxing with Pascha on April 19.
Our family is preparing to attend a special service tonight that marks the transition from Great Lent to Holy Week. It’s called The Service of Little Compline with the Canon to Lazarus the Righteous. It anticipates tomorrow, Lazarus Saturday, when we celebrate Christ raising Lazarus as a taste of the soon-arriving Resurrection of Christ.
There’s a portion in tonight’s Canon that I love. In the hymn, Hell is personified at the moment when Christ raises Lazarus:
“I implore thee, Lazarus,” said Hell, “Rise up, depart quickly from my bonds and be gone. It is better for me to lament bitterly for the loss of one, rather than of all those whom I swallowed in my hunger.”
“Why dost thou delay, Lazarus?” cried Hell. “Thy Friend stands calling to thee: ‘Come out’ Go, then, and I too shall feel relief. For since I swallowed thee, all other food is loathsome to me.”
“O Lazarus, why dost thou not rise up swiftly?” cried Hell below, lamenting. “Why dost thou not run straightway from this place? Lest Christ take prisoner the others, after raising thee.”
I love it! Because of Christ, Lazarus gives Hell a four-day tummy-ache. The life of Christ gives Hell indigestion. And releasing Lazarus brings little relief. For in less than a week, Hell will swallow the Undying One. And the life of God will surge forth releasing all from Hell’s gullet.
You can almost hear the Paschal hymn whispering from the future:
“Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!”
Because of my long background as a Protestant, I have to admit that there are a lot things about Orthodoxy that I’ve categorized as “strange.” Don’t misunderstand me. It’s all beautiful and filled with incredible meaning and mystery. In fact, I’m sure it’s “strange” to me only because of my context. The more acclimated I become to life in the Orthodox Church, the more natural everything seems. For example, I can no longer imagine a Christian life or worship without icons, incense, chanting, liturgy and a priest, just to name a few aspects.
But I think the one thing that will take much more time to become natural is being out of sync with the rest of my culture in celebrating Easter. The Orthodox Church uses a different calendar in regards to Easter than pretty much the rest of Western Christianity. So rarely does Orthodox Pascha (Easter) fall on the same Sunday as Western Easter. Some years, like this year, the two Easters are a week apart (Orthodox Easter is April 19th while everyone else celebrates Easter on April 12th). Some years, like last year, the two Easters are almost a month apart. Frankly, it’s really weird.
Both my family and Debbie’s family are evangelical Christians. Many of our friends are evangelical Christians. And so, as we approach this weekend, there have been many well-wishes of a “Happy Easter.” I see signs and banners everywhere for Easter services this weekend. My kids have been on Spring break this week. I even get a 1/2 day holiday at work for Good Friday. We’ll probably get together with our families this Sunday, and maybe even have an Easter egg hunt for the kids.
I’m glad Easter is celebrated in our culture. And I’m so thrilled that many people in our lives truly know and celebrate Christ’s resurrection. But it’s so strange delaying our actual celebration while the “rest of the world” prepares for this holiday. As I just mentioned, we’ll join in some of our families’ celebration, but not fully. For what’s Easter’s joy without first journeying through Holy Week?
While Holy Week is climaxing this weekend for those around us, it’s just starting for my family and parish tomorrow with Lazarus Saturday and then moving into Palm Sunday this coming Sunday. Now that I think about it, it’s going to be odd this Sunday morning when our parish processes outside with palm branches the same day all the surrounding churches will be celebrating Easter. And on that same day, my family will move from Palm Sunday and the anticipation of Christ’s death directly into the joy of Easter with our families and then back into the somberness of Holy Week with our parish through the rest of the week.
This weekend is a microcosm of our family’s life as new Orthodox Christians. We always feel just slightly out of sync with the rest of our Christian family members and friends. I’m not complaining, mind you. Debbie and I value the people God has placed in our lives and we have chosen to live closely with them. So that often means coping with quizzical looks when we try to explain why we pray differently, worship differently, eat differently, celebrate strange feasts days, go to confession, use odd words (like Pascha), and say and do a host of other things that are part of our Orthodox life.
Yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love Orthodoxy. I love being an Orthodox Christian. Journeying through Lent this year as part of the Orthodox Church has reminded me how much I need the fullness of Christ’s life that is in Holy Orthodoxy. As I’ve alluded in my last several posts, I sense something has “clicked” inside of me. In fact, it’s probably more accurate to say that something that was hindering me “broke” a couple of weeks ago. As I continue settling into Orthodoxy, I’m sensing increasing clarity and stability in my relationship with God, his people and myself. The fears that have whispered to me these last several years are becoming silent, replaced with a growing confidence to move boldly back into life.
One of my favorite photographers is Zeb Andrews. I love looking at his work. What he does with a camera and his imagination is inspiring. He’s written a wonderful post on his website speaking about what makes photography worthwhile. And while his post is photography-specific, I believe the ideas behind it apply to many areas of life. Here’s some of what he has to say:
“Your photography is not limited by your camera, nor your lens. It is not limited by shutter speeds, aperture, film, focus, flash, white balance, color, black and white, grain, noise, etc. It is not limited by your budget nor your education. It is not, and I repeat, not, limited by light. It is certainly not limited by where you live or where you go. Your photography is limited simply and quite importantly, only by your own imagination and vision. All those factors I mentioned (and more) can certainly affect your photography, but ultimately you make of it what you will. Photography begins and ends with the photographer, the best light in the world, or most advanced metering system will not change that…
“What matters most happens before the picture is even taken, not after. The worth of your photography is in what gets you up at 4 am in the morning to brave freezing conditions in hopes of a sunrise. It is what makes you follow your children around all day long patiently snapping frame after frame. It is what causes you to drive for miles, or walk them, in search of that moment, be it in the middle of a sprawling urban landscape or a natural one. It is significantly in what keeps you picking up that camera as the fractions of seconds become days, the days months, the months pool into years, and beyond. It is in this desire to see, to experience, to feel, to celebrate, to remember, to be a part of, to be amazed or amused, that you will find what makes your photography worthwhile. Everything that comes after the snap of the shutter is merely added drama, and it is never as important as you think it is.”
This isn’t the first time something in photography has opened a window into other areas of my life. As I ponder Zeb’s words, I realize that it’s too easy to slip into laziness. Sure I could give it another name and make up excuses, but bottom-line it’s simple laziness. My slothfulness is one of the areas of my life that I’ve become painfully and shamefully aware of during this Lent.
Years ago, I had a fire within me. I had a passion similar to what Zeb describes. I possessed what I believed to be a calling in my life and I pursued that calling with everything within me. I felt like I was a long-distance runner. With almost two decades of practice, I had found my stride as I stretched ever-forward toward my goal.
And then I stumbled. Or was I tripped? Does it even matter any more? All I know is that I hurt. All I could feel was pain and confusion. When before I had run, now I could only walk and limp. I was no longer confident that everything I had been pursuing was worthwhile anymore. And I chose to become lazy, to stop running and to cast off much of the discipline and structure that had helped me to run.
Recently, I’ve come to realize that if I don’t change, I will become the very thing I’ve always dreaded — nominal. I hear St Paul speaking familiar words:
“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.” — 1Cor 9:24-27
Now mere days away from Holy Week and the hope of Christ’s transfiguring Pascha before me, I hear the cry (ala Forrest Gump), “Run, Jason, run.” I know the destination is much different than before as are the necessary disiplines and training. And I know I will face much soreness as I use atrophied muscles. But I choose to run again.
Fr Ted Bobosh has an excellent post about the limitations of our empirical knowledge in regards to the physical universe. I chuckled at the quote by astrophysicst Robert Jastrow:
“At this moment it seems as though science will never be able to raise the curtain on the mystery of creation. For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries.”
What we do know, as Fr Stephen Freeman states in a recent blog, is “from the very beginning of creation everything made has been made for the purpose of being united together with Christ.”
And I absolutely loved the extended quote by Sergius Bulgakov that formed the bulk of Fr Ted’s post. Whether we contemplate the moment of creation or the eschaton, we are peering into a mist. And any attempts to describe the vague shadows we view in the mist surpasses our human language to express. That’s the mystery and beauty of God’s handiwork.
“It is easy indeed to confess that I have not fasted on prescribed days, or missed my prayers, or become angry. It is quite a different thing, however, to realize suddenly that I have defiled and lost my spiritual beauty, that I am far away from my real home, my real life, and that something precious and pure and beautiful has been hopelessly broken in the very texture of my existence.”
Alexander Schmemann, Great Lent
This is the heart of repentance. This is where God’s grace really performs its work during times like Great Lent. Not only do our attitudes, words and actions bob to the surface of my life, but I actually come to grips with the fact that the very waters of my life are turbid and rancid. As Fr Schmemann puts it, I’ve lost my spiritual beauty and something precious, pure and beautiful has been hopelessly broken in the very texture of my existence. I live with this keen awareness during Great Lent. And yet, even this is God’s abundant grace. For it compels my heart to cry out, “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner” and to strain toward the renewed life and creation of Pascha.
“Our culture prefers effortless spontaneity with occasional divine intervention in emergencies.”
So states NT Wright in a recent lecture on Christian virtue called, “Learning the Language of Life.” That one sentence describes most of my early Christian formation, so I feel like I’ve been playing “catch-up” the last decade as a Christian.
One of the reasons why I love Lent is that it exposes my bad habits that interfere with my development into Christ’s likeness — my laziness, gluttony, pride, lust, depression, anger, and greed. And those are just the ones I’m aware of. Sheesh. Most of the time, these things remain hidden in the murky shadows of my heart. But during times like Lent, and especially during Lent, I become aware of this foulness within me.
But to use a sports metaphor, the pain of having these areas exposed is like the soreness I feel when I increase my exercise regimen. The tearing down of my physical muscles is required for the rebuilding of newer, stronger muscles.
It’s similar in the spiritual life. As Wright also states in his lecture, “Everything we do is habit-forming.” Unfortunately, I’ve developed a lot of bad habits. They need to be torn down in order for new ones to be developed. And every year, Lent plays an important role in this ongoing process.
But you may ask, “What about grace?” And the simple answer is that the entire process is grace. By grace, God saw the world’s plight and acted. By grace, God forgives. By grace, God summons us to him. By grace, God immerses us into his Church. By grace, God fills us with his Spirit. By grace, God calls us to participate with him in ours and the world’s continuing renewal.
God’s grace and my effort go hand-in-hand. Not equally, mind you. God’s grace far surpasses any effort I exert. But my exertion and concentration are necessary. It’s how my will, mind, body and emotions actually get face-time with God’s grace. And one day, the proper habits that require so much effort now, will become second nature. They will require less exertion and less concentration as they become deeply embodied within who I am. As that happens, I will be increasingly prepared to live in God’s renewed world, not just in the future, but even here in the present.
Today, my oldest son, Michael, turns 17! Yesterday, I was browsing through some pictures of him, remembering him as a baby and young boy. He’s grown into such a handsome young man. He’s only about an inch shorter than me right now.
I remember when my relationship with my dad shifted from a father/son relationship into more of a mutual friendship. I was only a couple years older than Michael. That day is quickly approaching with my son and I look forward to developing a deeper adult friendship with him. Michael, I’m proud of you. You’re an intelligent, creative and all-around amazing person.
Earlier this week, Danielle tried out for her school’s show choir and made it! I’m so proud of her. This past year, she’s been a member of her school’s choir and has really enjoyed it. Now she moves to the more advanced group where she’ll learn choreographed moves and perform at shows. My baby girl is growing up!
“I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”
In my personal opinion, I think the Symbol of Faith, or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, is one of the most beautiful works of theology. I absolutely love the Christological, pneumatological and ecclesiological affirmations within the Creed. And I’m deeply moved whenever I think of the men and women who have valiantly lived and died for what the Creed affirms against paganism and heresies.
But my favorite line in the Creed is the last one. Being an eschatological affirmation, it resides properly at the end of the Creed. But because it comes at the end and also stands as a single simple statement alongside the larger complex formulations about Christ, the Holy Spirit and the Church, it almost seems like an afterthought. Yet, I know it isn’t and I anticipate stating this wonderful affirmation every time I recite the Creed at Church or in my personal prayers.
When I was an Evangelical Protestant, I had discovered that my eschatology was severely distorted. If I had even read the Creed back then, I would have equated “the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come” simply as “going to heaven when I die.” The goal of my Christian life was a non-temporal, non-spatial, disembodied existence called “heaven” after I died or after being raptured, just before God destroyed the planet. But that is not the biblical eschatological image within the New Testament.
Rather, the biblical image of the “life of the world to come” is God, through Christ, renewing this creation. This image is communicated in a variety of ways — God’s kingdom coming from heaven to earth (Matt 6:9-10), God gathering all things existing in the two dimension of heaven and earth back together (Eph 1:10), God leading creation in a new Exodus from its bondage into freedom (Rom 8:20-21), God reconciling all things within the two dimensions of heaven and earth (Col 1:19), and God’s city and throne moving from the heavenly dimension to make its ultimate home in the earthly dimension (Rev 21:1-2; 22:3-5).
And it’s within this renewed creation that redeemed humanity will be bodily resurrected and animated by God’s Spirit in order to realize the fullness of our vocation through our resurrected bodies — to fully gather creation and offer it to God and to fully reflect God into creation by our wise stewardship.
Why is this eschatological vision so important? A proper eschatological framework is just as essential as a proper Christological, pneumatological and ecclesiological framework for our life in Christ in the here and now. Proper living in the present requires the proper vision of the future. Knowing and understanding, as best as possible, the telos or goal of God’s Creation, humanity and our personal life generates both the impulse and direction to move in the proper trajectory towards that future. It’s what we’re living for.
Let me use a simple, and albeit weak, metaphor. Let’s say I’ve decided to join a workout club. An essential component of exercising toward a healthy life is to learn how to use the equipment correctly .
Similarly, the Church provides us with many viable resources to train and enter into the life of Christ. The majority of the Creed instructs us how to properly engage in all that the Church offers. In other words, the proper understanding of Christ, the Holy Spirit and the Church provided by the Creed is necessary for correctly entering into and participating in the sacramental, ascetical, and communal life of the Church, which is the life of Christ. And by participating in the life of Christ through the life of the Church, we commune with God and are transformed by him.
But the last affirmation of the Creed — “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come” — is the reason why I “joined the workout club” in the first place. It’s the ultimate reason why I want to commune with God and thus enter into the life of the Church as reinforced by the Creed — to become competent at dwelling and serving properly in God’s renewed world as he always intended for humanity. The last line of the Creed reminds me that my present participation in the life of the Church is training me to breathe, see, think, talk, relate, work, play and live in God’s coming renewed world. And by training towards it now, I’m actually beginning to live it now. Perhaps slowly at first, but hopefully with ever-increasing proficiency.
As we journey through Lent, the eschatological vision of God’s renewed creation appears on the horizon of my imagination and draws me forward. It is the reason why we journey through Lent. It is the vision that Jesus carried with him throughout Israel and ultimately to the cross in order to trample down death by death. It is the vision that Jesus inaugurated with his prototypical resurrection from the dead and continues to implement throughout history. And it is the vision he offers us as we follow him, commune with him, live in him, train to be like him and participate with him in the continual renewal and reconciliation of God’s creation. And, God helping, I will valiantly embody and affirm this vision as all those who have come before me.
I’ve been rereading parts of Bishop Kallistos Ware’s The Orthodox Way, specifically the chapter entitled “God as Creator.”
There are some ideas and quotes in this chapter that keep pinging around in my head. Ware states that God has formed two levels of created things: the “noetic” or “spiritual” level and the “material” or “bodily” level. He then states, “Man, and man alone, exists on both levels at once.” This is fascinating to me. In all of God’s vast creation, humanity alone is created to exist and interact on both levels of creation.
Ware then states that by being designed to participate on both levels of creation, humanity is a microcosm of the entirety of creation. And as such, humanity is also the mediator of creation:
“It is his [humanity's] God-given task to reconcile and harmonize the noetic and the material realms, to bring them to unity, to spiritualize the material, and to render manifest all the latent capacities of the created order… As microcosm, then, man is the one in whom the world is summed up; as mediator, he is the one through whom the world is offered back to God.”
I love what this implies. At the ontological level, humanity is created uniquely to live and play simultaneously on both dimensions of creation. At the operational level, humanity’s vocation is, in Ware’s words, “to manifest the spiritual in and through the material.”
I am designed to manifest the spiritual in and through all of the details and activities of my material life. Talk about “fear and trembling!” How I talk, relate, work, think, eat, drive, pray, write, listen, play, rest, and much more are to be ways in which I manifest the spiritual in and through the material. That means I must learn to live every part of my life beyond the material or bodily level of my existence — beyond passions, reason, and even will.
But wait there’s more! Not only are humans designed to be miniature creations, the places where the two dimensions of creation — heaven and earth — come together and are offered back to God, but we are also made in God’s image. Ware states, “Man is the finite expression of God’s infinite self-expression.” My life is to reflect the life and character of God.
In other words, we are not only the image and expression of creation to God, we are also the image and expression of God to creation.
There is so much that can and should be said beyond the scope of this simple post. However, my intention was to refocus my own vision back onto what human life and vocation are all about.
I’m ashamed to admit that I’m easily distracted. I too easily let busyness, worries, fears, desires and other “bright and shiny things” distract me. So I’m hoping that during this Great Lent, my Lord takes me a couple of small steps closer to realizing my vocation in his kingdom. My life is to be both the image of creation and the the image of God. My life is to be the place where heaven and earth are stitched back together. My vocation is to participate in Christ’s ultimate vocation of bringing together and reconciling all things in heaven and earth (Eph 1:10 & Col 1:19-20). And my life is to be his life, the very life of Christ surging and spilling out of me like rivers of living water (Gal 2:20 & John 7:38).
HT to Jason Evans for this one. Check out Thru-You.com. This guy mixed a bunch of unrelated Youtube videos into new music. It’s very cool and creative.
Steve Robinson points to a great Lenten reflection worth reading. Take a few moments and enjoy it HERE. Here’s a little sample.
“This Lent I am going to attempt to walk through life like I walk through church in hard soled shoes, or in the kind of shoes that squeak on the polished wood floor. I am going to try to walk softly, deliberately, prayerfully aware of the noise I am making, prayerfully aware of how my actions resonate with and disturb others; I will be quietly ashamed and a little embarrassed.”
This weekend has been such an exciting one. As I mentioned in my last post, I was gifted with a new Nikon D40x this past week. So I’ve spent the last couple of days shooting with this camera. And the experience has infused me with a renewed enthusiasm to develop my skills in digital photography. So much so that I started a simple photoblog to post my personal images.
Posting my images is more than just showcasing my limited abilities. No, I’ve learned that images speak in ways that words cannot. For the last six years, I have reflected personally and theologically on this blog through words. I enjoy writing. I love taking an idea and crafting words to express that idea. And I hope to continue with this endeavor, especially as I become more immersed and formed by the life of Christ in the Orthodox Church.
But I’ve discovered that theological thought is very different in Orthodoxy than my training and experience in western Protestantism. Theological reflection has been more of a conceptual exercise. Sure, personal reflection and practice have always been intimately connected with theology proper. But the order has been primarily idea first, then practice. This was constantly reinforced with the priority of study as the ever-present backdrop to all theological reflection. I think it also explains why much of my theological study has been accompanied with a constant battle with pride. These were my ideas and conclusions that I worked hard to discern, unravel and formulate.
Yet, in Orthodoxy, only those with deep lives of prayer are considered capable of being theologians. That’s because a life of prayer is a humble life in communion with God. I think it’s safe to say that I have a looong ways to grow. That’s not to say that I’ll stop studying, writing or thinking theologically. But it does mean I need to re-prioritize my spiritual life so that I’m reformed inwardly. It’s much easier to study, write and think than it is to pray. Just like it’s easier to “proclaim” the Gospel than it is to live it, or to go even further, to embody it.
Prayer is difficult not because it takes time, but because if practiced properly, it places us in constant vulnerability before God. We are exposed. We’re not asking for things as much as presenting our sin-filled, broken selves to a merciful God. As grateful as we are for the availability of God’s salvation, we are brutally aware of our constant need to actually be saved. As we pray in Divine Liturgy:
“I believe, O Lord, and I confess that Thou art truly the Christ, the Son of the Living God, Who camest into the world to save sinners, of whom I am first.”
The more I pray with the Orthodox Church, the more these words shift from a nice spiritual sentiment to the actual cry of my sin-filled heart.
That’s why photography is a wonderful medium of expression, reflection, and even prayer. My eye is being trained to “look for shots.” But it’s more than just capturing light, color and texture. There are shots that stir something deep within me. I don’t know why. I can look at a series of shots of the same subject and one will leap out, grab my attention and sometimes take my breath away.
Even though my eye is focused on a subject outside of myself, it’s actually reflecting something from within me. Something within me is responding to the beauty or truth expressed in that moment, in that image. And it’s something that escapes words.
For example, yesterday, I walked around the perimeter of my apartment complex and took a series of shots of things I see everyday. There were a number of shots that I looked at and immediately hit the delete button. There were several that I’m keeping to look at, reflect upon and develop further. And there are a couple that immediately struck at the depth of who I am.
One was the shot of the bricks that I posted on my photoblog. Another is an image of a trash dumpster that I want to develop and post soon. And another was this photo of a fence formed from distressed wood.
The knotted and scarred planks remind me of the saints, the men and women throughout history that experienced untold hurt, discipline and pain. And yet, the scars became intimate communion with God. The discipline was transformed into holy dispassion. These wooden planks remind me of the icons I venerate. Faithful lives that weathered the storms of adversity, eventually to be revealed as lives perfected in Christ for all of us to emulate.
And it stirs the longing to be found faithful in my life, to live a life worthy of my Lord. As Fr Patrick preached about on Sunday, I am stained with gluttony and lust and a variety of other sins. I am still shaped by my pleasure-seeking culture and scarred by my past participation. So I pray, “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.” And as I pray, I am aware of the convergence of contradictions — the holy mercy of God and the absolute despair of my condition. As the two meet and kiss, there is not immediate relief. Nor should there be. For the injury goes too deep. It requires continual therapy, healing beneath the scarred surface. For the remedy is nothing less than the transformation of who I am. And that is Christ in me, the hope of glory of which St Paul wrote.
Perhaps that is why in Orthodoxy theology flows from prayer. One must become right in order to live and think right. Glory to God!
I love looking at good photography. Images can communicate in ways that words cannot. A few years ago I bought a Canon PowerShot A620 with the intention of developing basic skills in digital photography. I admit that I’m not great, but I’ve had a lot of fun taking pictures. Recently, I was gifted with a Nikon D40x. The move from a point-and-shoot to a DSLR is very exciting for me and has injected me with a lot of enthusiasm to take my basic skills to the next level.
So… in anticipation of the photos I’ll be taking, I’ve started a simple photoblog. I’ve already posted a couple of images that I took over the last couple of years on my PowerShot. I’ll probably be posting several more of these older shots during this time that I learn to use my Nikon as well as learn to use Pixelmator and Capture NX2.
This evening, our family had the incredible opportunity to visit St Luke’s in Garden Grove to venerate the Holy Hawaiian-Iveron Icon. This icon is a myrrh-streaming icon. Although this icon is simply made of wood and paper, it miraculously began emitting myrrh in 2007.
The history of this icon is absolutely amazing. This icon is actually a printed copy of the Montreal myrrh-streaming icon of the Theotokos, which miraculously began emitting myrrh in 1982. And that icon was a hand-painted copy of the original Iveron Icon of the Theotokos, which according to Orthodox tradition, was painted by the Apostle Luke. Yes, the same Luke who wrote the Gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles.
The amazing history is lengthy, so I’ll just post links. Click HERE to read the history of the original and Montreal myrrh-streaming icons. And then click HERE to read the history of the Holy Hawaiian-Iveron Icon.
So what do you do with a miraculous myrrh-streaming icon? I struggled with this question all week in anticipation of our visit. I’ve long since gotten past my old Protestant hang-ups about icons. The Seventh Ecumenical Council declared, “Icons do with color what Scripture does with words.” (By the way, Fr Stephen has just posted a good blog post entitled, “Icons and Scripture” that is worth reading.)
I love icons. They are windows into heaven. They constantly remind me of the communion of the saints and their intercessions on my behalf. They spur me to live a godly life. I can’t imagine ever going back to worship or daily life without icons. They are a significant part of the wealth and fullness of the faith that I’ve discovered in Orthodoxy.
But, icons that leak aromatic myrrh? At this point, all I can say is God’s grace is beauty shrouded in mystery. Grace is not some disembodied force floating around somewhere nor comes to us in a vacuum. Grace is God’s activity, his energies. And he anchors it in his creation. He offers his grace through water, through incense, through bread and wine, through oil, through paint, paper and wood, through words, through prayers, through my priest. Grace and creation go hand-in-hand. In fact, creation is truly being creation as God destined when it’s the means of God’s grace.
So, I don’t have any rational explanation why God would choose to anchor and offer his grace through an icon that streams myrrh. But it’s absolutely beautiful. The myrrh smells like roses. And the icon is of the tender Mother of God, the premiere disciple who is praying for our salvation. I was deeply moved when Fr Michael brought the icon up the aisle and laid it upon the analogion.
Hmmm…. A humble, unpretentious 7 x 9 inch plank of wood with a printed copy of the Holy Mother of God directing our attention to Christ and miraculously emitting a heavenly fragrance. Now that I think about it, it seems to be the typical way God reveals himself and offers his grace. And my response is to acknowledge it, to honor it, to pray and to worship a God who lavishes grace in such beautiful and mysterious ways.
I am so amazed at how Orthodoxy is such a treasure house of resources for spiritual growth. One of these resources that I’m enjoying is written prayers. Throughout my entire Christian life, spontaneity was valued as being truly spiritual. This was especially true with prayer.
However, in his book, Beginning to Pray, Met Anthony Bloom states that while spontaneous prayer is a valid form of prayer, it’s only really possible in two situations. That’s because spontaneous prayer is a kind of prayer that “gushes out of our own souls.” Therefore, spontaneous prayer is only possible either in situations when we are vividly aware of God and that awareness calls forth a response of worship and joy or we are suddenly aware of our desperation and despair and cry out to God to save us. In this light, Met Bloom states:
“It [spontaneous prayer] comes from the depths of our soul, from either wonder or distress, but it does not come from the middle situation in which we are neither overwhelmed by the divine presence nor overwhelmed by a sense of who we are and the position in which we are. So that, at those moments, to try to use a spontaneous prayer is a completely illusory exercise.”
But Met Bloom also says it’s not enough to learn and use existing prayers, but also to live them. “A prayer makes sense only if it is lived.” He advises that when we discover a phrase in a prayer that makes sense, “you must try to apply it in the course of the day ruthlessly, for as long as you can.”
All of these thoughts on prayer came to a point when I read Shawn Ragan’s newest post, called “A Hymn of St Ephraim.” (Click on the link and take a moment to read the whole prayer.)
There is no way in my most creative and spiritual moments of spontaneity that I could have ever said anything like this. This is a prayer with which I resonate. It communicates the repentance I desire to experience, yet do not have the words to express. Orthodoxy is filled with such beautiful and powerful prayers as these.
Another prayer that we pray and with which Shawn ends his blog post is, “Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on us and save us. Amen.” In this prayer, I’m not only asking for the intercessions of the Saints, who are in the presence of Christ, for my salvation, but I’m also asking that my own use of their prayers — both through my voice and my life — will be unto my salvation as well.
Fr Stephen has posted a wonderful excerpt from Dr. Kalomiros’ book, Nostalgia for Paradise. These thoughts on the Orthodox life are so balanced and come to me at such an appropriate time. Just a couple of nights ago, Debbie and I were talking about my self-imposed spiritual disciplines as a Protestant. And just the other day, Fr Patrick was reminding me of our family’s need to spend time learning a new rhythm of being Orthodox.
Now I read Dr. Kalomiro’s words and quite frankly, I just want to cry. I want to cry out of repentance for the pride and hardness created by imposing practices upon myself that were beyond the measure of grace given to me. I want to cry out of joy for the beautiful vision of what a true human life in Christ looks like. And I want to cry out of thankfulness for now being a member of a Church that can actually nurture me with wisdom into the life in Christ for which I have longed.
There is so much in this short excerpt that grips me. If I were to cut and paste good quotes, I would need to simply paste the entire excerpt. But this one paragraph is the clincher for me. I dream of living this kind of life:
“It is a modest soul that is out of its waters in the limelight of men but blooms in solitude and quiet. It is a heart free to its very roots, impervious to every kind of pressure, far from every kind of stench, untouched by any kind of chains. It distinguishes truth from falsehood with a certain mystic sense. Its every breath offers gratitude for all of God’s works that surround it and for every joy and every affliction, for every possession, and for every privation as well. Crouching humbly on the Cornerstone which is Christ, it drinks unceasingly of the eternal water of Paradise and utters the Name of Him who was and is ever merciful. Such a soul is like a shady tree by the running waters of the Church, with deep roots and a high crown where kindred souls find comfort and refuge in its dense branches.”
“At the center of the Icon New Media Network, we believe that Orthodox Christianity is the future of American Spirituality. Our desire is to introduce Orthodox Christianity to emergent, post-evangelical and non-Christian audiences. Through the use of new media (blogs, podcasts, video, etc.) we aim to create environments where Orthodox Christians and those interested in this radical ancient faith can converse about and collaborate on resources that lead to a fuller understanding of Christianity. This is done by providing places for people to gather and communicate both online and offline about the relevance and necessity of our 2000-year-old Church.”
The quote is from the Icon New Media Network website, a site in which I’m very interested. Although I haven’t explored the site in any depth, I’m excited about an Orthodox ministry dedicated to speaking to “emergent, post-evangelical and non-Christian audiences.” I love environments that are conducive to conversations. Call it rebellion, but I hate being told what I have to believe or do without a chance to talk, think and process.
For me, my association with the Emerging Church was a wonderful transition to explore the richness and fullness of Orthodox Christianity. I believe the same might be true for others in the Emerging Church. In addition, our culture is in a weird place. Whether we call it “postmodernity” or “liquid modernity” or some other label, our culture is not where it was thirty years ago. So any engagement that the Orthodox Church has with western culture will need to involve relationship and conversation.
Personally, I believe Jesus is still our best example. He is the Truth. His very being defines what Truth is. And one of the primary things we observe in Jesus is the relational nature of Truth. Truth is not cold, impersonal or abstract as western culture has tended to define it. Truth, as defined by Jesus, is personal and gives birth to true Life, Love and Reality. And the Orthodox Church has preserved the fullness of the Truth within its life and Tradition for centuries. One of the most amazing things I discovered about Orthodoxy this past year was how vibrant, Spirit-filled and life-giving its Tradition can be.
So, I’m excited about Icon New Media Network and any other Orthodox ministry that is willing to share the beauty, life and fullness of the Faith with those hungering for Christ and His Church.
This morning, ten of us, including my family, were received into the Holy Orthodox Church. It was such an amazing moment. Here are several reasons:
- Knowing our family and friends were there to support us. Thank you Mom and Dad H, Mom & Dad Z, Linda, Steve, Maribeth, Caleb, Jennifer, Fr Michael & Kh Kyra, Mic & Ginny, and David. And thank you David H. for filming the entire service.
- Seeing the excitement on our friends’ faces from St Peters. Thank you to each person at St Peters who has prayed for us, encouraged us and supported us this past year. And a special thanks to our family’s sponsors — Dn Rico, Kh Christina, Aaron, Elly, Lisa & Robert.
- Watching my best friend, Mark, be baptized.
- Hearing the beautiful and spiritually rich prayers.
- Holding my candle as a symbol of my heart becoming illuminated.
- Being signed with the chrism (Holy Oil) as Fr Patrick made a sign of the cross on my forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears, chest, hands and feet, while each time saying, “The Seal and Gift of the Holy Spirit” to which the entire congregation responded by saying “Sealed!”
- Receiving the real Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist for the very first time. Absolutely awesome!!
- Receiving the cross on a chain around my neck as a constant sign of my life in Christ.
- Being encouraged to invoke the prayers of our patron saints.
- Knowing that from this day forward my family and friends will live and grow in the fullness of Christ’s life through the nurturing care of the Church.
A lot more can and must to be said about today. It was momentous in ways that I’m still trying to fathom. All day, I have been sensing something deep, and to this point beyond words, simmering inside of me. It’s similar to what I remember experiencing after other life-changing events, like my wedding day or my children’s birth. Each of those events marked the end of a specific journey and the beginning of a new journey that would prove far greater and life-impacting than I could have anticipated. I have been sensing the same thing since this morning’s service. We’re Orthodox and I suspect it will change everything. And I love it.
You can view photos from the event on the St Peter’s website by clicking HERE.
Back in April, I posted my reflections about my friends’ reception into the Holy Orthodox Church. One of the most moving moments was when Fr Patrick whispered into the ear of one of my friends and said “Welcome home.” Even as I write this eight months later, I still remember the ache in my heart at hearing those words. It seems my entire Christian journey, which began back about 25 years ago, has been one of searching for “home.” As much as I have encountered the Living Christ throughout the various stages of my journey, I’ve always known that he has been leading me somewhere.
My family’s experiences during the Paschal season at St Peters convinced me that Holy Orthodoxy was the “home” I’ve been searching for, even though I never would have envisioned it as such through most of my journey.
And now this coming weekend, a new phase of my journey begins as our family and our best friends, Mark and Barbara, are received into the Holy Orthodox Church. My entire family is very excited and a bit nervous. In some ways, I feel like the prodigal son finally coming home. And the warmth and love from our friends at St Peters and St Lukes, as they anticipate our reception this weekend, has embodied the Father running to meet me and my family and to usher us into his home.
But coming home isn’t the end of the story. It never is. Life, even New Life, goes on. The story will continue as we learn to live in the Father’s home with our brothers and sisters, fully communing with the Living Christ. Knowing the depths of my own heart, I know I will make mistakes and offend. And I know I will be offended. I learned long ago that when two or more Christians gather… someone’s going to get hurt. But everything we will experience — the joys, the sorrows, the forgiveness, the thrills, the pains — is for our salvation if experienced and processed properly. Fortunately, our family is part of a larger family with the same desire to commune with Christ and to grow into his likeness. Now in our new larger family we will worship together, commune together, fast together, pray together, serve together, and love together, as we are guided by a wise and caring priest who embodies Christ, aids in our confession, gives us spiritual direction, teaches us, and extends God’s grace through His holy Mysteries and as we are joined by the entire Body of Christ as they are made known through the icons, hymns and stories.
And the ones of whom I am the proudest and most moved are my family. Debbie’s courage at the unknown and her embracing of the various disciplines of prayer and fasting have continually inspired me. My children’s quick receptivity of Orthodox theology and practice, such as venerating the icons, led me into a fuller practice and experience of Christ’s life. And although I was the one that initiated our one-year commitment to attend St Peters, it has been my family that has quietly encouraged me to stay connected when all of my wounds and fears from the past screamed for me to remain disconnected at best or to pull me away at worst. I really believe I have been the “weakest link” in my family’s journey to Orthodoxy. And I am very thankful for their living example of strength and courage, especially in my weakness.
I cannot express how thrilled I am as I anticipate standing with my wife and children and friends in our “Chrismation whites” with our sponsors to be received into the Father’s home and to fully eat at his table. And while I am painfully aware of my unworthiness, I am even more grateful for the overabundance of my Savior’s and God’s grace.
I’m finally home. Glory to God!
Today is Debbie’s birthday. I really believe that my wife is the greatest thing I have going for me in life. Everyday I’m filled with amazement that she chose to take my name and give me her life. She is truly God’s gift to me and I cherish her with everything I have. She’s my best friend and there isn’t another person on this planet with whom I would rather spend time. I love her humor, her intelligence, her compassion, and her wit. And, boy, is she a Looker! We have shared the greatest moments of our lives together. We’ve cried, laughed, yelled and whispered as husband and wife, now going on twenty years. And God willing, we will journey together and grow more deeply in love for decades to come.
There’s a commercial on TV that shows a young couple strolling past an elderly couple, who are slowly walking and holding hands. That’s my vision of a life well-lived. I want to be holding hands with my best friend and lover when we’re old and wrinkly. I want to see her look at me and smile with that twinkle that is for me alone.
I love you, Debbie. Happy Birthday!
“My kingdom is not of this world.” -Jesus of Nazareth
During this Nativity Fast, I was reminded of a quote made by N.T. Wright that goes something like “Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it is for this world.” What a wonderful summary of the Incarnation! Jesus’ kingdom doesn’t originate from nor is fueled by the same energies and economies of this world’s kingdoms.
And yet, his otherly-world kingdom is God’s remedy for the transformation and healing of this world. It spills over from God’s heavenly dimension into this broken earthly dimension. And it reconciles the great divorce between these two dimensions of God’s creation. It goes about stitching, as it were, the two layers of creation back together again until one day Jesus’ and the Church’s prayer will be ultimately realized in God’s New Creation when his kingdom will truly come on earth as it is in heaven.
My hope is that the two layers are being stitched together in my own life so I’m able to participate in God’s larger project in the world as well as become a person who will live naturally in his new world.
I’ve started reading Beginning to Pray by Metropolitan Anthony (Bloom) of Sourozh and I’m really enjoying what he has to say. Most Protestant books on prayer that I’ve read seem too mechanistic as if what we do or say will somehow invoke God’s presence or response. Not so with this book. So far, this book is about plowing the soil of our own hearts, learning to become true pray-ers. Two quotes stand out, one about weakness and the other about humility.
Here’s the one on weakness:
“Weakness is not the kind of weakness which we show by sinning and forgetting God, but the kind of weakness which means being completely supple, completely transparent, completely abandoned in the hands of God… You could think of that [weakness] also in terms of a sail. A sail can catch the wind and be used to maneuver a boat only because it is so frail. If instead of a sail you put a solid board, it would not work; it is the weakness of the sail that makes it sensitive to the wind.”
And here’s the one on humility:
“The word ‘humility’ comes from the Latin word ‘humus’ which means fertile ground… Humility is the situation of the earth. The earth is always there, always taken for granted, never remembered, always trodden on by everyone, somewhere we cast and pour out all the refuse, all we don’t need. It’s there, silent and accepting everything and in a miraculous way making out of all the refuse new richness in spite of corruption, transforming corruption itself into a power of life and a new possibility of creativeness, open to the sunshine, open to the rain, ready to receive any seed we sow and capable of bringing thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold out of every seed.”
There used to be a saying about prayer, “Prayer changes things.” Nowadays, I’m hoping prayer changes me as well. I hope I learn to embrace the proper weakness in which God’s power is manifested by making me humble.
Lord, may my life become like the dirt and soil of the earth; an ordinary, unobtrusive place where the pain and poison of this broken world silently fall, are absorbed, and miraculously transformed into new life.
I just read on Lifehacker that today is the 40th birthday of the computer mouse. Considering that my hand is on a mouse most of my day, this a milestone worth noting. I wish I had a picture of all the mice I’ve owned. My favorite so far is the wireless Mighty Mouse by Apple (pictured below).
Update: Click HERE to see pictures of the original mouse.
Fr Stephen posts a great reminder of how the small thoughts, attitudes and actions in our daily lives are so important. When I was a younger man, my goal was to do great things for God. I dreamt of leaving a magnificent legacy that would far outlive my earthly life. My sight was always straining toward the horizon, waiting for that moment when I would do something big for God.
Now I’m a bit older and hopefully a bit wiser. And with some age, my goals have changed. I strive to be a good husband, a good father, a good friend and hopefully a good man. And this is lived out not by great momentous deeds, but by the many small, insignificant moments in my life. An encouraging smile. An attentive ear. A compassionate hand. And as my gaze shifts from the horizon to the present moment, I can better see what Fr Stephen describes in his closing thought:
“This is the day of salvation. It may come in a thousand discreet moments, every one of which is alive with the fire of God.”
May I learn more and more to be warmed and ignited by the fire within these moments.
I’m sure everyone who has heard about death of the Walmart employee on Friday morning is sickened by what happened. I had originally decided not to blog about it because, while I had some thoughts forming, I felt I had nothing substantial to offer but my own sadness and revulsion at what happened.
This morning, Fr Gregory posted a thoughtful reflection on that event that I believe is worth reading. We simply can’t shake our heads at this tragedy as if we’re innocent and then go on with our consumerist lives as usual. Sure, we can tell ourselves that we would never have participated in such an atrocity. But we all participate in the same spirit of the age that caused Friday’s event. That’s why Fr Gregory’s call to both contemplation and action must be heard, especially during the Nativity season. For it is this very darkness and death that resides in all of us that Christ came to conquer.
Fr Stephen posts a meditation offered by Met. Kallistos Ware. You can read the entire post HERE. The quote below contains the final thoughts of that meditation:
“Do we reflect sufficiently, I wonder, upon the environmental implications of our Lord’s Incarnation, upon the way in which Jesus is ecologically inclusive, embedded in the soil like us, containing within His humanity what has been termed ‘the whole evolving earth story’?
“Do we allow properly for the fact that our Savior came to redeem, not only the human race, but the fullness of creation? Do we keep constantly in mind that we are not saved from but with the world?
“Such, then, is our Orthodox vision of creation; such is our vocation as priests of the created order; such is our Christian reponse to the ecological crisis. Such is the deeper meaning implicit in the words that we say daily at the beginning of Vespers: ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul’.”
I love the thought of Jesus being “ecologically inclusive, embedded in the soil like us.” I am so thrilled that Orthodoxy has such a vibrant understanding of Creation. The Church’s understanding of Christ’s Incarnation provides the ultimate framework for a sound theology of and ministry toward Creation.
In fact, since 1989, much of the Orthodox Church observes September 1, the first day of the Church’s liturgical year, as the Feast of Creation. In a paper called, “Orthodox Liturgy and the Care for Creation,” Bishop Irineu offers the following thought:
“The vocation of humanity, as shown in liturgical theology, is not to dominate and exploit nature, but to transfigure and hallow it. In a variety of ways – through the cultivation of the earth, through craftsmanship, through the writing of books and the painting of icons – humanity gives material things a voice and renders the creation articulate in praise of God.”
Christ’s Incarnation fulfills humanity’s divine mandate in Genesis to be the stewards and caretakers of Creation. He is the ultimate steward of Creation, rescuing both his eternal family of co-stewards and Creation itself from the clutches of brokenness, sin and death. Jesus tramples down death and offers his life, which enables us to embrace our true vocation as Creation’s cultivators and craftsmen that gives it a voice of praise to God.
This past weekend, Debbie attended a Women’s Retreat in Santa Barbara. David called me up and asked if I wanted to take the kids out to Oak Glen with him. We agreed and am I’m glad we did! The weather was beautiful and we had a fun time. Click HERE to view pictures in my MobileMe Gallery.
And if you want to see the kids making Apple Cider, click HERE.
Since tomorrow is a holiday (Veteran’s Day), I decided to take today as a vacation day and thus extend my weekend. This afternoon both closed a chapter in my life and revisited another.
About five years ago, upon leaving full-time pastoral ministry, a few of us in our newly-founded faith-community decided to start a wedding video business called inFocus Video Productions. This endeavor was to provide supplemental income for us as well as to provide a way to incarnate Christ’s presence through our lives and skills. Earlier this year, we decided to close our business. We filmed our last wedding in late October and officially closed our virtual doors early this month. Today, I cleaned and packed all of my video equipment to sell on Ebay. While being a wedding videographer was physically demanding and took me away from my family on many Saturdays, I enjoyed the last five years. I got to work closely with two of my best friends, hone my creative skills, and quietly serve and pray for the various couples on their wedding day. Now, as I type this, there is a vacant spot in a small corner of my bedroom where I stored my video equipment. I’m glad we decided to close our business, but today I’m also a bit sad that it’s over.
After packing my video equipment into my car, I drove to the Asian Access offices where I worked for three years after leaving professional ministry. Today, the office staff celebrated 25 years of wonderful service of the office receptionist, Ellen Hale. Ellen is an incredible person and is literally the voice of Asian Access as she answers the office phones. She has impacted hundreds, if not thousands, of people by incarnating Jesus’ life through her joy, her gentle disposition and her faithful prayer. I am so glad I was able to celebrate this great milestone with her. I was moved as I watched a video of Asian Access missionaries personally thank Ellen for her impact in their lives and ministry. Joe Handley, the new president of Asian Access, has posted a nice tribute to Ellen on his blog. This past year, I have missed my Asian Access friends. This afternoon was a nice time visiting with them as well as meeting Dana, who replaced me as the Staff Accountant, Joe, Silk and Margaret.
I came across this line from an Orthodox funeral service and I think I found my new life statement:
“I am the image of Your inexpressible glory, even though I bear the wounds of sin.”
Yesterday, a seventh-grade boy tripped Danielle at lunch and the fall broke her wrist. Fortunately, she was able to get the bright green cast she wanted.
This weekend, Debbie and I had a good conversation about our journey to Orthodoxy. And as I reflected on our dialogue, I’ve become more aware of a few things.
God is truly leading our family in our journey to Orthodoxy. I have longed for a Christianity that is historically, spiritually and theologically rich and vibrant. And as I have mentioned in previous posts, we truly believe we have found it. Fr Thomas Hopko communicated the fullness of life and faith that we’re experiencing in Orthodoxy in his lecture, “When is Armageddon?” when he said:
“The Orthodox Church has nothing except everything we need… What we need is God the Father, the Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit and the Scriptures, the sacramental life of the Church, the liturgical services of the Church and the teachings, the witness and the blood of the saints.”
As a father, it is moving when I listen to my children recite the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed or pray the Lord’s Prayer, or when I watch them cross themselves or venerate an icon. We have found a place where our children will be raised in the fullness of the Faith.
I wish I could explain how utterly awe-inspiring and humbling it is to participate in a virtually unchanging Divine Liturgy that Christians globally and historically have used for centuries, a Divine Liturgy that faithfully has escorted millions of Christians to a moment that transcends time and space into God’s kingdom and communion with our Lord, God and Savior Jesus Christ.
And it’s a wonderful thing to know that unlike my evangelical experience, there will never be a need for “trends” or “movements” (i.e. charismatic movement, Purpose-driven life movement, spiritual warfare movement, church growth movement) because we have and will always have everything we need to journey into Christ’s life and likeness. Everything we need is here. In Orthodoxy, to borrow again from Fr Hopko, we have “The Holy Spirit, who lives in the life of the Church through the Scriptures, the Sacraments, the Services and the Saints.” While there surely is room for further reflection, study, and adaptation, there is absolutely no need for additions or supplements to our faith and practices.
Now having said this, I’m also aware that everything I have experienced beforehand has been God-ordained. I am eternally grateful for the churches and movements I’ve participated in during my journey with Christ.
In Calvary Chapel, I came to know Christ as my Lord and Savior and to cultivate a love for the Scriptures.
In Youth With a Mission, I explored and confirmed my calling into ministry, participated in overseas missions, and learned how to live in Christian community.
At the First Baptist Church in Azusa, I was entrusted with my first youth ministry and opportunities to preach and teach.
At the San Gabriel Valley Japanese Christian Church, I experienced a vibrant Christian community and was given further room to grow in various ministries, including worship, youth, and preaching.
In the Vineyard, I experienced God’s intimacy and learned to live with risk-taking faith. It was there that I learned all of the aspects of local church ministry and honed my personal and ministerial values.
In the Emerging Church, I enjoyed the freedom of theological and missional exploration, the creativity of making theology accessible and relevant to everyone, and the camaraderie of theological conversation where everyone learned from one another without agenda and power struggles.
So as my family and I stand on the threshold of entering the Orthodox Church, I recognize that my being here is the natural and logical destination of my journey in and through all that I have mentioned. I can see God’s hand in each place in the journey as he used different people and movements to “tutor” me into a more vibrant and well-rounded faith that ultimately has led me here. I hold many fond memories and valuable lessons dear to me and know that I would not be here if not for God leading me in and through Calvary Chapel, YWAM, the Baptist Church, the Japanese Church, the Vineyard, the Emerging Church, as well as Azusa Pacific University, Fuller Theological Seminary and many other people and influences along the way. I admit that all of my experiences have been a mingling of joy and pain. But I truly love where I have been.
As I affirm the fullness of the Orthodox Church, it is not to discredit or disparage those in my past, but to thank and appreciate all who have contributed to my journey. Because of them I am here. Aware of this, my zeal for the Orthodox faith is not a renunciation of all I have learned and experienced as it is the affirmation of all the good I have learned and experienced. With deep thankfulness and gratefulness, I pray I am able to bring all of that good with me into my Orthodox faith.
This is very important to me because I’m also very aware that one brings his or her baggage into the Orthodox faith. An angry Protestant Christian simply becomes an angry Orthodox Christian. An insensitive Roman Catholic Christian simply becomes an insensitive Orthodox Christian. I bitter Emerging Church Christian simply becomes a bitter Orthodox Christian. Recently, I’ve heard Orthodox Christians on a few occasions speak with anger or mockery about the Protestant faith from which they have converted. And this saddens me. It contributes to the perceived superiority and exclusivity of Orthodoxy held by many. There is absolutely no grace in that kind of behavior. And being fully aware of the wounds and anger still residing in my own heart, I know I can easily become like this as well.
So I hope and pray for grace, for generosity, for the ability to listen to another’s perspective, for understanding, and ultimately for love. My goal in converting to Orthodoxy is that I would become a better man, to become like Jesus so that I would learn to love God, people and creation better as time goes on.
Shawn Ragan points to a wonderful two-hour video by Fr Thomas Hopko called “When is Armageddon?” I converted it into an audio file and listened to it yesterday during my commute to work. I’ve always enjoyed Fr Hopko’s teaching and this gem of a lecture encapsulates a lot of why I enjoy him. In many ways, a lot of what Fr Hopko teaches in regard to the Gospel, the Incarnation and eschatology aligns with what I enjoyed in N.T. Wright’s teaching, but from a distinctly Orthodox perspective. Here is a nugget from the first half of the lecture:
“This world, as we know it, is not destroyed and the New Creation is not made out of nothing. The renewed creation is this world saved, redeemed, sanctified, deified, glorified by the risen Christ, who in the Apocalypse is the Son of God, the Son of Man, and 38 times, the Lamb of God who is slain, who is dead and is alive again and is fighting against the Beast, which is the symbol of Babylon, this world that is not only against God, but in place of God.”
That one quote alone is absolutely awesome. One of the major popular evangelical doctrines I abandoned years ago (with N.T. Wright’s influence) was the distorted eschatology that God will one day destroy this world. This doctrine is intimately linked with the popular doctrine of the rapture, which I also abandoned years ago, and contributes to the false idea that God is only interested in saving souls, which he would someday extract from this creation that was destined for destruction. But that’s not the biblical image. God created this world and placed humans as the caretakers of this world to govern and nurture this world as his image-bearers. As humanity goes, so creation goes. When we plunged ourselves into disobedience and distortion, we dragged creation with us. And as St Paul says in Romans 8: 19-21:
“For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.”
Creation isn’t yearning for its own destruction. It’s yearning for its freedom and renewal that will be realized through the life of Christ in and through God’s children. That’s because creation isn’t an afterthought nor simply the backdrop to the human drama. Look at the relationship between Christ and creation that St Paul describes in Colossians 1:15-16:
“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers — all things have been created through him and for him.”
Christ is the firstborn of all creation. This world is his and is not destined for destruction. This world was created in him, through him and for him. And it will be re-created in him, through him and for him.
As Christ renews humanity, creation’s caretakers, he renews creation. That’s why I love the words Fr Hopko uses to describe the renewed creation — saved, redeemed, sanctified, deified and glorified by the risen Christ. Those words are normally associated with humanity, but he uses them to describe the renewed creation. And ultimately, when we jump to the end of Revelation, it is this renewed earth that finally becomes the place where God’s throne dwells. Jesus’ prayer, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” is finally fulfilled in the renewed creation.
Eschatology is extremely important to me. Christians are to be eschatological people. We are to learn how to live in the present in anticipation of God’s future. So how we understand God’s future determines how we live right now. If we believe that God is going to destroy this world once he’s extracted all of his redeemed people from it, ala the Left Behind series, then we don’t need to live with any kind of impulse toward issues such as environmental responsibility and social responsibility since “it’s going to burn anyways.” But if we believe that we are truly God’s ordained stewards of his creation and that he is saving, redeeming, sanctifying, deifying and glorifying this world by Christ and through us as Christ’s people and followers, then we will live very differently right now.
I’ve been thrilled to discover that the Orthodox Church is very eschatologically-aware. The Divine Liturgy is eschatological. Here’s a quote from a recent blog post by Fr Stephen Freeman:
“Christianity is inherently eschatological - it is precisely about the end of things and about a very specific end. The meaning of Orthodox worship is found in the fact that we believe ourselves to be standing in the very end of all things as we celebrate the Divine Liturgy. Even the Second Coming is referred to in the past tense. The End has come and Christ is victorious and as His people, Baptized into His death and resurrection, that End is our hope and our own victory.”
In Orthodoxy, eschatology shapes everything — our worship, our daily living and our mission. We follow Christ, obey his commands, wait in vigil, participate in the Divine services, ask for intercession from the saints, and pray in anticipation of the eschaton — the age to come when the world is fully renewed in Christ and flooded with God’s glory as God’s throne is finally established on earth as it is in heaven.
This morning, our family was enrolled as catechumens at St Peter’s. While it was a fairly short moment, it was filled with much significance and meaning. Several years ago as an Evangelical, I read the following quote from St Cyprian of Carthage, who lived in the early 3rd century:
“He cannot have God for his Father who has not the Church as his Mother.”
At the time, I was learning the incredible value of spiritual formation and spiritual community and this quote rang true. However, I had a problem. I didn’t know what to do with it practically. Theologically I had been formed to understand the Church as consisting of everyone who called Jesus “Lord and Savior.” Did that mean this large ambiguous and amorphous group of people with vastly different beliefs, values and practices was to spiritually nurture and form me as my “Mother?” If so, did that mean I would have to “pick and choose” which elements would form me and my family?
As my family and left professional ministry, I began constructing a somewhat eclectic Christian spirituality drawing from sources I thought were important. N.T. Wright formed my theological foundation. Dallas Willard and others constructed an individual rule of life for my spiritual formation. The Vineyard shaped my practice of worship and spiritual gifts. The Emerging Church formed a vision for relevant mission. Our house church filled the need for deep spiritual community.
But as I journeyed further with my family and friends, I sensed significant gaps in my eclectic spirituality. Would my own ability to gather and meld these various elements together really develop the fullness of Christ’s life in me, my family and my community? As much as I wanted to believe it would, deep down I knew that I was not smart enough, creative enough, knowledgeable enough or spiritual enough to lead myself and others into the genuine life of Christ. I’m talking about the deep authentic life of Christ in which the core of who we are is radically transformed so that we consistently think and act naturally like Jesus. Everything I did seemed so… shallow.
So while I was much further along than I had been my entire Christian life, I knew myself well enough to admit that my abilities created a very low ceiling. I did not have what I or my family needed to lead and train us ultimately into the deep wellspring of Christ’s life and likeness.
Over the last nine months, our family has been exploring Orthodox Christianity. And while there are elements that are still very strange and foreign and even difficult to accept, I am convinced that we have finally found what our hearts have been longing for. I truly believe that in the Orthodox Church, we have found the very fullness of Christ’s life. There is absolutely nothing lacking in Orthodox worship and life. No assembly or batteries required.
I want to say this again. We have found FULLNESS. Nothing needs to be added or changed or supplemented or created or re-envisioned or recaptured.
During my 20+ years as an Evangelical, I have never experienced this before. Instead, I have witnessed wave upon wave of spiritual fads and enthusiasms washing over us — worship, Church growth, spiritual warfare, spiritual gifts, renewals, spiritual formation, leadership models, books, and conferences.
But not anymore; not for me and my family. We have found Christ’s Church — the fullness of his life embodied throughout the ages and generations from Christ himself to the present. And today, our family is one step closer to living in the reality of St Cyprian’s quote. The Church will be our Mother, truly nurturing and forming us to embody the life and likeness of Christ as she has unchangingly through the ages.
