All Men Want Peace

“All men want peace; but they do not know how to attain it. Paissy the Great, having lost his temper, begged the Lord to deliver him from irritability. The Lord appeared to him and said, ‘Paissy, if thou dost not wish to get angry, desire nothing, neither criticize nor hate any man, and thou wilt have no anger.’ Thus every one who renounces his own will before God and other people will always be at peace in his soul; but the man who likes to have his own way will never know peace. The soul that has surrendered herself to the will of God bears every affliction and every ill with ease, because in times of sickness she prays and contemplates God, saying: ‘O Lord, Thou seest my sickness; Thou knowest how weak and sinful I am. Help me to endure my sufferings and to thank Thee for Thy goodness.’ And the Lord relieves her pain, and the soul feels God’s help and is glad in the sight of God, and gives thanks. If some misfortune befalls you, reflect in this wise: ‘The Lord sees my heart, and if this is His will all will be well, both for me and for others.’ And thus your soul will always be at peace. But if a man murmurs against his fate he will never have peace in his soul, even though he fast and spend much time in prayer. The Apostles were deeply attached to the will of God. In this manner is peace preserved. All the great Saints likewise bore with every affliction, submitting themselves to the will of God.” Staretz Silouan, Wisdom from Mount Athos

Heaven & Hell Are Not Places

“We are made whole (healed) by the grace of God, and brought into a relationship with Him that is our true inheritance. Heaven and hell are not places created by God for those who were good, or bad, but rather about relationship. The Fire of God is heaven for those who have responded to God’s love, and hell for those who have remained in the darkness of sin (sickness), and whose ego has shut out God, for self. Heaven and hell are not places, but all about relationship.” Abbot Tryphon

I’ve written about this before, but it’s worth revisiting. Our culture’s understanding of heaven and hell is severely distorted. Too often, heaven and hell are viewed as future destinations either to reward the good or punish the bad.

However, as Fr Stephen Freeman is fond of saying, “Jesus did not come to make bad men good, but dead men alive.” What is at stake is the transformation of human nature, which is so fractured, distorted and sick that it’s dead. And in this dead state, we shut out God. That is hell. In our brokenness, we constantly live in hell.

So the issue isn’t ethics or morality. You can’t tell a corpse to behave better. The only hope is Resurrection. For the Resurrection is the inauguration of God’s Renewed Creation. And the power of the Resurrection brings life to all of us who are dead. This is the point of Ezekiel 37 and Jesus’ retelling of that vision in the Story of the Prodigal Son. The son wasn’t restored because he “got his act together” or because he apologized to the Father. He experienced Resurrection. He returned from exile and back into relationship with his father and his household.

When a person experiences the Resurrection, the process of transformation begins. And this is heaven. Heaven is being loved by God and being able to love him back, regardless of circumstance. Heaven is loving and living God’s will regardless of the pain or sacrifice one experiences. Heaven is being transformed into Christ’s likeness from the inside-out.

As Jesus hung upon the cross absorbing the world’s sin and evil upon himself, he was in heaven. In the midst of hell, he was in heaven.

So heaven and hell are descriptions primarily of our relationship with God. But are there future destinations of heaven and hell? I believe so. It’s called the New Creation. One day, God will renew his Creation. He will set all things right. Jesus’ prayer will fully be answered as heaven and earth finally overlap and God’s reign will be on earth (the human realm) as it is in heaven (God’s realm). And in the New Creation, God’s glory will cover the earth as the water covers the seas. This will be the ultimate and eternal experience of heaven and hell.

And on that day when God renews his Creation and drenches it with his undiminished glory, his very love and presence will be like an eternal inextinguishable lake of fire for those who shut him out. And that same love and presence will be indescribable joy for those who have been transformed into his likeness and live only for his will.

So heaven and hell begin now. Each of us is on that journey every day.

Dad, When I Grow Up…

“Dad, when I grow up, I want to be a pastor and a hockey player.” That’s what my oldest son told me when he was in elementary school years ago. I’m not sure where the hockey player reference came from. But telling me that he wanted to be a pastor was his small expression of love for me and desire to be like me.

That moment fills my mind when I read Ephesians 5:1-2:

“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

I’ve been reflecting on this passage for the last couple of weeks. But every time I try to write something, it feels like I’m pinning this Scripture to a laboratory table. This is one of those portions of Scripture in which we must fully immerse ourselves rather than dissect with an expositor’s words.

So perhaps the only thing worth saying is, “Father, when I grow up, I want to love just like you.”

The Humble Soul

“The soul of the humble man is like the sea: throw a stone into the sea — for a moment it will ruffle the surface a little, and then sink to the bottom. Thus do afflictions disappear down in the heart of the humble man because the strength of the Lord is with him.” Staretz Silouan, Wisdom From Mount Athos

Resurrection of the Prodigal

The parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15 is one of my favorite parables. Not only does it contain levels of interpretation and application, but it depicts our Heavenly Father in such an intimate way. He is the Father who graciously concedes to his younger son’s outrageous request for his portion of the inheritance. And rather than holding a grudge against his son or even maintaining the cultural detachment of a patriarch, he sees his returning son from a distance, runs to greet him, and compassionately restores him.

I am moved virtually every time I reflect on this parable. It strikes a deep and unspoken place within me.

This parable has meant even more to me as I’ve come to realize that this is a resurrection passage. Twice the Father says, “For this son of mine/brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” You can almost hear the faint echoes of Ezekiel 37.

In Ezekiel 37, the prophet receives a vision of Israel’s return from exile. Israel is depicted as a valley of bones. God tells Ezekiel that he will open their graves and bring them back to the land of Israel (Ezek 37:12). This is the first primary image of resurrection in the Old Testament and it represents Israel’s return from exile. They were dead and are alive.

In the time of Jesus, while Israel had returned geographically to the land, they had not spiritually returned from their long exile. Through this parable, Jesus is putting an intimate face on Ezekiel 37. Israel is the younger son, dead and lost in exile. But by simply returning to the Father’s house, Israel meets the compassionate and intimate Father, who is quick to restore. They are resurrected, alive once again.

As a parable of salvation, the prodigal son enforces the fact that our “problem” is not a legal, moral or ethical breaking of some abstract code or law. In other words, the prodigal son didn’t do something wrong or bad and then needed to be expunged of the guilt of his crime. Rather, the son was dead. Life and hope were gone. An apology like he had planned would not solve the problem. He needed to be resurrected and restored.

And this resurrection takes place in relationship with the Father. The son simply hoped for a place as a servant in his Father’s house. But the life he needed was in the restored relationship with his Father. The Father states, “For this son of mine was dead and is alive again.”

And the resurrectional relationship isn’t just a “God and me” thing. The Father tells the embittered elder son, “Everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again.” The older brother also has a role in the resurrection of his brother. Everything in the Father’s house belongs to the older brother. While he views the resources of the Father’s house as potential personal blessings, the Father implies something more in the statement “Everything I have is yours.” These resources should not only flow to the older brother, but through the older brother. The older brother should use these resources as the Father uses them. So the Father encourages him to celebrate and in so doing, the resources of restoration will flow to the younger brother. The Father is inviting the older son into the “ministry of reconciliation,” to practice resurrection and thus to be a blessing rather than expecting only to receive a blessing.

In other words, blessings are not intended to simply flow to a person but through a person to others.

But Jesus leaves the parable hanging. In some ways the fate of the older brother is more at stake than his younger sibling’s who is now alive and restored. And we realize that the older brother, despite never having left his Father’s house, is like Israel currently occupying the Land. He too is still in exile. He is also dead and in need of resurrection.

Abbot Tryphon & “The ER for the Soul”

Abbot Tryphon posts a great summary on how the Orthodox Church functions like a hospital in the therapeutic process of salvation. His opening paragraph is a good reminder that simply joining the Orthodox Church does not guarantee that we have entered the healing process. We must engage in the life of the Church in order to enter into communion with God and thus “work out our salvation” (Phil 2:12) and “train ourselves to be godly” (1Tim 4:7).

“Orthodoxy offers a very precise way in which to enter into communion with God. It is a way that must be learned, for simply “becoming Orthodox” will not lead the seeker into an inner life that will transform, and enlighten. Membership in the Church is simply not enough, for the Church is not about beautiful services, icons, or mystical theology. As a hospital for the soul, the Church is a place wherein we can receive healing for that which ails us. It is the place where we can be cured, and made whole.”

Read the rest HERE.

Fr Stephen & “All Dogs Go To Heaven”

Fr Stephen Freeman recently adopted a puppy, which has compelled him to post a wonderful reflection about creation, fallenness, prayer, and human nature. Wow!

Here’s an excerpt:

“Do dogs pray (does creation pray)? Absolutely! “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord” (Psalm 150:6). But how do they pray? Their very existence is prayer. Every created nature is made to live in communion with God. Human nature itself lives in communion with God. Our fall does not consist in becoming something other than human – we have yet to become truly human.”

You can read the rest HERE.

Sin Can’t Sing

 

“All is blessed by the hand of God, and all things are the ‘songs’ of God’s glory: even things that humans find odd, and perhaps disgusting. Ugly insects are as much part of the song of glory as graceful trees. Sin alone is not part of the song of glory. Alone in the creation it cannot sing at all.”

John Anthony McGuckin, The Orthodox Church

I enjoy watching The Voice and The Sing-Off. Yet, I can’t stand American Idol. One reason is that I absolutely hate the initial auditions. The cringe-factor is too high for me. It seems too many people think they can sing, get furious when confronted with the actual reality by professionals, and then have their delusions broadcasted for all to see.

McGuckin’s quote reminds me of those awkward American Idol moments. Sin believes it can sing. Yet try as it might, it only screeches and shrieks. Painfully. Agonizingly. Sadly, sin compounds itself, forming a choir of clamorous voices, and very quickly, it can become the dominant voice in our ears.

But we don’t have to yield to sin’s delusions. If we listen carefully, we can hear the harmonies of God’s creation, resonating with the melody of God’s glory. And since the song is in the key of Incarnation, all of us can easily find our parts and join in the chorus.

Although sin can’t sing, we can!

All Health Broke Loose

Sunday’s Gospel reading contained this passage from John 20, “‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.’”

Shortly after Jesus inaugurated his Father’s New Creation by his resurrection, he commissioned his disciples to continue what he has started. Jesus instructs them to participate in the missio dei with, “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” I truly believe this statement forms the core of any missional engagement. The New Creation is implemented by continuing Jesus’ incarnation of God’s Presence and Life into the world.

So that there is no mistake, Jesus summarizes the essential components of an incarnational mission. They must receive the Holy Spirit and they must forgive sins. They cannot engage in this daunting task solely relying on their own strength and strategies. Human participation in the missio dei requires Christ’s likeness and God’s divine energies. This is especially apparent when one reflects on what is involved in forgiving sins.

Jesus means far more than simply declaring to a person forgiven from personal sins. To Jesus’ contemporaries, the forgiveness of sins meant the return from exile. Based on their covenant with God, Israel’s sins had sent them into exile and it would be God’s forgiveness of their sins that would initiate their return. But Jesus offered more than a geographical relocation or deliverance from foreign rule. When Jesus offered the forgiveness of sin, he was offering a new world order from the desolation of death into the eschatological kingdom of God.

And that is our ongoing role in God’s mission. To borrow a phrase from my priest, “All health broke loose” at Jesus’ resurrection. I really like that. At the resurrection, the renewal of God’s creation is launched. As we are sent as Jesus was sent, as we forgive sins and offer the return from exile, as we embody God’s kingdom, all health should break loose in us and around us.

Truth & Love

I’ve been thinking a bit more about Truth. This isn’t a new thought, but more of a slight restatement of a thought from yesterday’s post. Jesus is The Truth. Truth is a person. Therefore, we know The Truth through sharing lives (koinonia, communion) with Him. And since this deep life-sharing relationship is the primary way to know The Truth, then the same kind of deep life-sharing relationships with others is the environment through which we share The Truth. We know The Truth through Love and we share The Truth through Love.

Truth is incarnated through Love. Truth is known through Love. Truth is shared through Love.

A Good Lesson For Photography… And Life

I’m an amateur photographer, so I don’t have much by which to judge someone as a great photographer. But I’ve noticed that while most photographers make beautiful photos, there are those exceptional ones that transcend making beautiful photos and actually capture life’s beauty. In my opinion, Zeb Andrews is one of those kind of photographers.

I’ve posted before about how inspiring Zeb is to me. He makes photography (and I cringe at how cheesy this sounds) magical. His images aren’t “perfect.” Nor do they look like something you’d find on a magazine cover. He doesn’t use fancy processing techniques. From what I gather from his comments on his Flickr Photostream and website, he carries a variety of cameras and film wherever he goes and intentionally looks. He has honed the art of observation. And he’s honed the art of photography to capture the beauty in what he sees. He states, “I enjoy the process of photography much more than the results.” And it shows. I think the results are pretty phenomenal. But what I love most about Zeb are the insights he shares about the process. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s sharing more about the “process” of living than photography.

Here’s some advice he gave recently that captured my attention:

“And another helpful piece of advice, don’t forget that there are many more ways than one to photograph anything. Or put another way, don’t settle with photographing anything one way. There is really an infinite number of ways to photograph everything. And this seems obvious, but trust me, it is easy to forget. Just look at Multnomah Falls. How many photographers avoid that waterfall because they think it has all been done? The same with the Eiffel Tower. Sure, there are lots of photos out there of both of these and many of these photos tend to look really similar. It is easy to make the first photo one finds and then move on to other things.

“Don’t do this. Stop. Look around. Keep looking. Move. Look some more. Wait. Then find a second and a third and a fourth different way to photograph your subject. Trust me, the perspectives are out there, it is just a matter of finding them, if you can. And sometimes you cannot. Sometimes you don’t have the equipment, or the experience or technical prowess. Sometimes you just don’t have the vision. But just because you cannot find those additional ways does not mean they don’t exist, which also means that you shouldn’t not look for them. Give it a try.”

I know firsthand how easy it is to get locked into only one perspective — in photography and especially in life. In the zealousness of my youth, it was so easy to accept what I was taught as “The Truth” and appoint myself as a spokesperson for “The Truth.” That meant I was right and everyone else who disagreed with me was wrong. I had to learn over time that what I believed to be “The Truth” was usually an opinion, a perspective. It took me years to learn that one of the beautiful aspects of life is that there is a wide variety of perspective.

I’m not saying that there isn’t absolute Truth. Nor am I saying that Truth is subjective. I’m saying that what most people proclaim as “The Truth” is usually just an opinion and all of us would benefit if we would put away our prophet’s mantle and learn to listen and appreciate the variety of perspectives that exist. To paraphrase Zeb a bit:

“It is easy to make the first opinion one forms to be the only opinion and then call it “The Truth” and then move on to other things. Don’t do this. Stop. Look around. Keep looking. Move. Look some more. Wait. Then find a second and a third and a fourth different way to understand your subject.”

Here’s something that always gives me pause. Jesus called himself “The Truth.” Truth is a person, not an abstract idea. Jesus embodied Truth in loving, gracious, life-producing relationships. That’s Truth in human form. Therefore, Truth is both known and expressed primarily in relationship, not proclamation.

What shames me is that my life is in such stark contrast to Jesus. Sometimes, my first reaction to a person with a perspective different than mine is to feel angry or threatened. That last thing on my mind is relationship. Why? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Any negative reaction I experience is caused by something within me. So I need to ask, “What is inside of me that is angered or threatened by a different perspective?” What causes this “fight or flight” mechanism in me?

I don’t have an answer for that yet. But I do know this: If Truth is embodied in loving, gracious relationship and if my reaction to a different perspective is anger or defense, then I probably don’t really know the Truth.

There is a popular saying in the Orthodox Church credited to the fourth-century monk, Evagrius the Solitary, “The one who prays is a theologian; the one who is a theologian, prays.” To me, an implication of this saying is that a person is only capable of knowing the Truth if he or she is in deep fellowship with the One who is The Truth. And a corollary to this saying is that a person can only embody the Truth to others through deep fellowship.

The Lenses Through Which I See

I read a beautiful Paschal reflection by Fr Ted Bobosh. His reflection reminded me of how God has shaped me to view life through a few crucial lenses.

First, salvation, as experienced personally, is the entire process of God rescuing me from sin and death and restoring me as his image-bearer. In other words, salvation is the actual process of being transformed into Christ’s likeness. As such, “forgiveness of sins” is the doorway to salvation, but not salvation itself. Forgiveness is a necessary aspect of a far larger process of renewal, restoration and transformation. Therefore, I don’t possess salvation. Rather, I’m on a journey of salvation, a journey toward becoming like Christ in his life and likeness.

Second, God is saving his entire creation. There is a global dimension to salvation. The promised New Creation is this creation renewed and overflowing with God’s glory. The New Creation was inaugurated at Jesus’ resurrection and God is actively restoring his creation, primarily through the renewal of creation’s stewards — the human race.

Third, Jesus’ very being and life saves us. God’s salvific activity cannot be pinpointed to just one event in Jesus’ life. All of the events save us. He saves us through his birth, his circumcision, his baptism, his ministry, his miracles, his teaching, his crucifixion, his resurrection, his ascension, his return, his ongoing kingship, and all the bits in between.

Fr Stephen Freeman summarizes nicely, “The Incarnation of Christ and the whole of His work – suffering, death, burial, descent among the dead, resurrection, ascension – serve the same singular purpose – to deliver all of creation (including humanity) from its bonds and establish it in the freedom for which it was created – manifest in Christ’s own resurrection.”

The convergence of these lenses bring the world into pin-sharp focus for me and have helped me to shed much of the delusion from my past.

Clearing My Throat, Finding My Voice

Reviving my blog after a couple of years has me feeling like a singer preparing for a performance after a long hiatus. I need to cough and clear my throat as well as do some vocal exercises. So please forgive the phlegm as I try to warm up.

So what am I hoping to accomplish now that I’m blogging again? Like I said last time, I want this blog simply to reflect my life as I live. Important aspects of my life are my family, theology, writing, reading, movies, music and photography. So I hope all of those things will find their way into my posts.

Here are some general “bloggy” things I’ve learned as I anticipate future posts.

Keep it short. A lot of blogs I read are long and tedious. And I too have been very guilty of being tedious. I’m trying to learn the art of brevity. One blog I read is The Morning Offering by Abbot Tryphon. He provides the most nourishing spiritual nuggets in small portions. Granted, his wisdom flows from a life of devoted, ascetical life to Christ. But he shares his profundity with great concision, something I desire to learn.

Keep it kind. I also find many blogs to be angry. Differences and disagreements provide ample fodder for blog posts. Being critical of others is just too easy. Yet, God is merciful to all. So I want to avoid rants and critiques and find beauty, grace and truth.

Keep it humble. I’m not here to convince anyone of anything. Honestly. I’m not a pastoral or prophetic voice. I hold no leadership position. I have no secret message that the world needs to hear. I’m just a man. If I had to describe myself, I guess I would say I’m striving to be Jesus’ apprentice as both a member of the Eastern Orthodox Church and a collaborator with God’s restorative mission in the world. So the majority of my posts will probably reflect this as I ponder life and other things.

Reviving My Blog

First of all, Christ is Risen! Truly He is Risen!

And next, Hello again!

This is weird. I walked away from this blog almost two years ago. I said my farewells and had no intention of ever returning. And yet I could never bring myself to remove this blog’s presence from the Internet. Now I wonder if part of me secretly hoped for or even planned for a return. Who knows?

The time away has been good. I didn’t have any major theological insights or spiritual breakthroughs. Nor did I accomplish some monumental earth-shaking task. I’ve simply endeavored to become what I’ve mentioned in my blog for years — I’ve tried to be a good man.

So why return to blogging? I’m stilling piecing that one together. But here’s what I know.

Two years ago, I was becoming increasingly aware that my voice was only contributing to the narcissistic noise that defines our culture. I wanted to be heard and therefore I knew I needed to be silent.

Now, I just want to live. And for me, an essential part of living is reflecting and writing. It’s a subtle difference, but an important one.

So I’m back. I’m grateful for what has been. I’m content with what is. And I’m excited about what is to be.

Goodbye

This post is probably the most difficult one I’ve written. It’s a decision upon which I have reflected, prayed and wrestled for almost a year. Yet, as time passes, I am increasingly convinced that it’s time to close the door on this blog.

I began this blog in March 2003 as our family left professional ministry and embarked on a journey of theological exploration. This blog has recorded our joys and struggles as we explored a different form of Christian community. It has allowed me to deconstruct and reconstruct my theology and wrestle with my new identity outside of professional ministry. It has marked special events in our family’s life. And recently, it has recorded our family’s journey into the Holy Orthodox Church.

So why am I ending this blog?

There are a several reasons, but I won’t bore you with the details. Ultimately I believe I’m entering a time when my voice needs to be silent. For me, this blog has been a platform to share what I’ve learned and experienced as well as serving as a catalyst for conversations beyond my local relationships. During the past seven years, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing as well as participating in the conversations that various posts have sparked. I am blessed by the number of people who have contacted me to share their stories. I’m always startled by God’s grace and love in the midst of every person’s journey, struggles and joys. I feel like I was blessed with the rare opportunities to witness firsthand the remarkable transformations of faith as people searched for something deeper and more meaningful than their current church experiences.

But it’s now time for me to be quiet. And I had a choice to make. I could have simply stopped writing posts and let this blog fade away. However, as I’ve grown a bit older, I’ve realized that marking significant events has become increasingly important to me.

This blog has been a very n0table part of my life and I would have regretted not marking my decision to end it. This blog has sustained me for the last several years. It has been my journal and sounding board, allowing me to process my wounds, my theology and my journey. There are probably as many unpublished posts as published ones. But the discipline of writing all of them with prayer, reflection and discernment has been an essential part of the overall formative process in my journey. So because this blog has meant so much to me, I need closure.

As I say goodbye to this blog, some thanks are in order. First, I want to thank everyone who participated in our house church community — Mark, Barbara, Dan, Kerri, David, Jennifer, Angela, Gary, Anne, Thomas, Erika, Billy, Carol, Alan, Maribeth, Debbie and all of the kids and friends who been part of our extended family.

I also want to thank Steve for being a great friend and pastor to me through those house church years. And I want to thank David for being such a profound influence in my movement toward Orthodoxy.

While this blog comes to an end, my life-goals remain the same. I simply want to be a good man, husband, father and friend. I want to embody, demonstrate and announce Christ’s life and love to the best of my abilities. I want to incarnate Christ’s presence in a simple, quiet way to the people I love so that they may grow and excel in God’s life. In some small way, I want to follow St Seraphim of Sarov’s words, “Acquire a peaceful spirit, and around you thousands will be saved.”

I want to thank all of you who have taken time to read my posts, leave comments, say prayers for my family, and be a little part of our journey. May God lead you ever further into his life, love and likeness.

Goodbye.

Bridegroom Hymn

During the last two evenings, our family has attended the Bridegroom Matins. These are such beautiful services, immersing us ever-deeper into Holy Week. One of the hymns we sing during these services is absolutely breathtaking. It succinctly captures the pathos of the Lenten journey of joyful repentance as well as the brilliant hope of Christ’s resurrection that awaits us at the culmination of Holy Week.

“I behold Thy bridal chamber richly adorned, O my Savior; but I have no wedding garment to worthily enter. Make radiant the garment of my soul, O Giver of Light, and save me.”

I’ve attached a short clip of our congregation singing the hymn:

Happy 18th Birthday, Michael!

Wow! Today, my oldest child, Michael, turns 18 years old! It has been such an honor watching Michael grow up. I’m astonished by his stellar character. He’s compassionate and thoughtful. He takes his faith very seriously. And he’s very intelligent and creative. I’m filled with such joy when I watch him serve at the altar in our parish.

As Michael quickly approaches his high school graduation, both he and our family are aware of the many changes we face. I know these changes are inevitable and are good for all of us. But I also know that I will deeply miss the unique family dynamics that we’ve enjoyed the past several years.

Michael, I love you more than my words and actions have expressed. You are an amazing person and  being your dad fills me daily with joy. Happy Birthday, Michael! May God grant you many years!

What the Holy Spirit Shows Us

I follow Jason Barker at Orthodoxresource.com. His site is a wonderful repository of Orthodox quotes. I especially enjoyed today’s quote by St Innocent of Alaska:

“But when the Holy Spirit dwells in the heart of a person, He shows him all his inner poverty and weakness, and the corruption of his heart and soul, and his separation from God; and with all his virtues and righteousness. He shows him his sins, his sloth and indifference regarding the salvation and good of people, his self-seeking in his apparently most disinterested virtues, his coarse selfishness even where he does not suspect it. To be brief, the Holy Spirit shows him everything as it really is.”

As a former charismatic and as one who still associates with people in the movement, I have claimed and still hear claims about things that the Holy Spirit has supposedly revealed. Needless to say, much of it is simply distorted passions run amuck in the guise of a prophetic voice.

But Jesus called the Holy Spirit the Spirit of Truth. And if He is dwelling and working in us toward our salvation, then wouldn’t He show us what is true, especially about ourselves? Wouldn’t He illumine the dark crevices of our souls with the brilliance of Truth, replacing delusion with Reality? And that Reality would be our continuous and desperate need for Jesus and His kingdom.

Fr Stephen & “The Existence of God”

Do you hear the crack of the bat and the screaming crowds? You should. That’s because Fr Stephen had hit another one out of the park! His excellent post on “The Existence of God” is a must-read. Here’s a couple of paragraphs that made me want to shout “Amen!”

“We are living in a time of history in which saints are required. We have long passed the time in which rational arguments will carry the day. Nothing less than lives which manifest the existence of God will do. The world has heard centuries of arguments – has been subjected to crass persecutions and atrocities in the name of God (even if these were largely not the result of Orthodox actions). We have survived a century of extremes (Bolshevism, Nazism, etc.). That the world is hungry is beyond doubt. But the world is not hungry for a new and winning argument. The world hungers for God (whether it knows this or not).

“The proper Christian answer to the hunger of the world is to be found only in the manifestation of God. Thus the challenge of a modern atheist should not be met with an anxious rejoinder from our panoply of arguments – but with the urgency of prayer that we might ourselves become an answer through the reality of the presence of God in our lives.”

Fr Stephen is absolutely correct. The proper answer to questions of God’s existence are not logical arguments but living examples of God, embodied and incarnated in normal human lives. That’s why I believe the core of being “missional” is first and foremost theosis. Humans are designed to be God’s image, reflecting him into the world. Christ provides both the way and the example of being God’s image in human form. We must become like him for the sake of the world.

Space: 2099

Back in the 1970s, during my youth, I used to love a British SciFi series called Space: 1999. The premise was that on September 13, 1999, the nuclear waste being stored on the moon exploded, knocking the moon out of its orbit, hurtling it and the inhabitants of Moonbase Alpha into outer space.

I loved everything about the show — the flared-leg costumes, the Eagle Transporters, the transportation tubes, the stun guns, even the cheesy 1970s theme music.

So imagine my delight when I learned of Space: 2099! No, it’s not a remake like J.J. Abram’s Star Trek or SciFi Channel’s Battlestar Galactica. Rather, Eric Bernard has rebooted Space: 1999 by condensing each original episode of Space: 1999 into a 2-3 minute episode. He’s also added more special effects and edited the dialogue so that all of the original characters say “2099″ instead of “1999.” You can watch all of the new episodes HERE.

It’s the “perfect storm” convergence of my nostalgia and geekiness. Memories of my brother and I playing with the Moonbase Alpha Adventure Playset cascaded my mind. That Adventure Playset was pure awesomeness! The entire set, including cast and aliens, was assembled out of punchout fiberboard and occupied hours of imaginative playtime. I also remember playing with my Space: 1999 Stun Gun Water Gun. That was one fun summer!

But soon nostalgia gave way to reflection. As a SciFi geek, I’m fascinated with the various visions of the future that the genre offers, especially since many of the visions are really attempts to address contemporary social and political issues. Lately, I’ve been wondering about what is generating so many horrific post-apocalyptic visions of the future in recent months – Terminator: Salvation, 9, Daybreakers, 2012, Avatar, and The Book of Eli. As a culture, have we become so cynical that we can only envision a devastated future? In the new movie, Legion, even the ever-patient, all-loving God is now depicted as the ultimate cynic, completely giving up on humanity and sending his demonic-looking angels to wipe us out.

Frankly, I’m getting tired of watching visions of the future that are either inhabited by zombies, vampires or killer automatons or filled with images of natural disasters and post-apocalyptic devastation. It’s boring.

I’m not necessarily looking for movies that depict an utopian vision. It’s just that global hopelessness is becoming too cliche for the genre.

Fr Gregory & “Certitude, Doubt and the Virtue of Faith”

Fr Gregory answers an email, discussing the virtue of faith as well as the dynamic between certainty and faith. It’s a good read and I absolutely love the summarizing paragraphs:

“For St Gregory Nyssa, to wrap this up, this is the source of human perfectablity.  We are in a constant state of change, and so we are forever imperfect.  This however is not due to any lack on our part but is inherent in being a creature and it our changeability that makes it possible for to grow in perfection, that is become like God Who does not change.  We can only become like the Unchanging God, that is perfect, to the degree that we are willing to change “and change frequently” in Gregory’s formulation.

“To the degree that I imagine I have intellectual certitude–that is that now I understand God or the Christian life in an exhaustive sense–to that degree I am a fool and living not by faith but something else entirely.  A life of faith requires that I am constantly changing, growing and re-evaluating myself and my life not only in the Light of the Unchanging God but also the ever changing circumstances in which I (quite literally) find myself.”

Living As God’s Image

Living as the image of God is what it means to be truly human. We were created in the image of God and it has always been God’s intention that humanity would mature into the fullness of this image, which is fully embodied and demonstrated by Christ.

While this intention might seem impossible, we are never called to live like anything else. Our attempts to live as something else is the core of our corruption and distortion. Therefore, our healing and renewal, along with the entirety of creation, occurs as we relearn how to live as God’s image during the course of our normal daily lives.

The question that looms before us is “How do we do this?” After almost 25 years as a Christian, I am convinced that the Orthodox Church possesses both the fullest theological paradigm and practical process for learning how to incarnate Christ’s life and presence on earth.

This is why I resonate so much with a quote from Met Jonah that I recently posted. The primary reason for my joining the Orthodox Church is because I believe it is the Way to Christ’s likeness. And while I believe the Orthodox Church is the historical and apostolic church, for me that matters only in that it has helped the Orthodox Church to preserve the Way through the centuries.

A recent post by Fr Gregory Jensen has further stimulated my personal reflections. He succinctly summarizes his reflections about the future of Orthodoxy in America:

“Objective teaching about the Gospel, the Church’s worship (especially the Eucharist), and the human heart, all converge in Jesus Christ and the fruit of that encounter is the desire to evangelize, to bear witness to what we know personally. All four of these elements must be present. Where I suspect we have gone wrong is to neglect the formation of the human heart.”

I love Orthodoxy and all of its beauty. I love its history, its theology, its liturgy and its sacraments. Sure there are still points of contention that arise when my past Evangelical Protestant theology, practices and values are confronted with those of Orthodoxy’s. But I’m at home in Orthodoxy, even if my new home still stirs feelings of culture shock and homesickness now and then.

This is why I was thrilled to come across an essay by Met Jonah through Fr Stephen’s blog. The essay is entitled, “Do Not Resent, Do Not React, Keep Inner Stillness.” For me, this essay was a reminder and a refocus. It encapsulates the trajectory of my Christian life just prior to leaving professional ministry and my journey ever since. I still believe that as human beings created in God’s image, we are to join God in his mission to nurture and renew humanity and creation toward the fulfillment of his intentions. For me, this is what the last line of the Creed conveys, “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the Life of the world to come.” This line is not conveying a passive waiting, but an active anticipation as we lean into and live toward that future based on everything the Creed has previously affirmed.

So we live into God’s future, actively participating in God’s mission toward that future primarily by learning to be and live as God’s image. In so doing, we experience the healing and restoration of our human nature from which true embodied and everlasting love and goodness flow.

If you’re interested, you can also hear an hour-long lecture of the same material by Met Jonah on Ancient Faith Radio, entitled “The Spiritual Process.”

And if you’re interested in going a even further, there is also a five-part lecture series on the Met Jonah’s material at Icon New Media Network:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, & Part 5

Fr Stephen & “Remember God Always”

Sometimes I think my blog is simply a pointer to Fr Stephen Freeman’s blog. And that isn’t really such a bad thing since virtually all of his posts are “must -reads.” This one in particular is a great example. It’s a wonderful reminder of the daily journey toward our salvation and how that journey actually occurs. Please take a moment and read his post.

Life, Death and the Nativity

Last night was a terribly sad night. I found out that a friend, whom I haven’t seen in several years, died of Leukemia. From what I understand, he fought well and graciously. Yet, in the end, he leaves behind a wife and two kids to grieve and to journey through this earthly life without him. My friend was a caring, intelligent and worshipful man and he will be missed.

News of his death came via email as I was walking out of Vespers already filled with sadness as my two youngest children made their confessions in preparation for the Feast of the Nativity. The Sacrament of Repentance is a somber moment for me and it’s magnified when my children experience it. I’m not naive about my children’s sinfulness. I know intellectually and experientially that they are distorted and corrupted by sin. Yet as their father, it breaks my heart knowing their lives will be filled with the brokenness and agony of sin. As they journey through life, they will experience the regrets and results of their own destructive actions, words and thoughts. And while I can coach and nurture them, they will still bear the scars of death and sin.

Held within a vacuum, my friend’s death and my children’s (and my own) sins can easily yield to hopelessness. But we don’t live in a vacuum. In fact, these events converge while the Feast of the Nativity looms ever closer and the words of the Apolytikon of the Forefeast of the Nativity, which we sang all weekend, continue to resound in my thoughts:

Be thou ready, O Bethlehem; for Eden hath been opened for all. Prepare, O Ephratha; for the Tree of life hath blossomed forth in the cave from the Virgin; for her belly did appear as a noetic paradise in which is planted the divine Plant, whereof eating we shall live and not die as Adam. Verily, Christ shall be born, raising the likeness that fell of old.

I love the imagery of this hymn! The Tree of Life, which became inaccessible after the Fall, is again available to all. And this Tree has blossomed in the most unlikely place — from the womb of a young virgin in a smelly cave in Bethlehem. As we feast on this divine Plant, which is Christ, the effects of the Fall are reversed and death gives way to Life.

This is the vivid Reality in which death and sin are experienced. The final Word belongs to Life. “Verily, Christ shall be born, raising the likeness that fell of old.” We aren’t simply given a status of “righteousness” as though painted with a thin coat of whitewash. Rather, our very nature is reconstituted within the life and likeness of Christ. As St Paul states, “So if anyone is in Christ, New Creation!”

I absolutely love that! As we live in Christ, feasting upon him, who is the Tree of Life, we are being recreated into the human versions of God’s New Creation. And we confidently know that the One who began this good work of re-creation in us will bring it to completion until the Day of Christ Jesus (Phil 1:6). God became man so that man might become god.

This truth doesn’t diminish or assuage the grief and loss of my friend’s death nor of our own experiences of sin. In fact, death is currently allowed to coexist with Life. (Remember, even Christ’s birth was accompanied by Herod’s horrific murder of children.) But this truth does lift our sight, reminding us that there is exceedingly more beyond death and sin. And though it may be through tears and pain, we can join St Paul in proclaiming, “Death has been swallowed up in victory. ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’”

Great Quote About Converting to Orthodoxy

I had heard the following quote in the recording of the lecture by Met Jonah. But I was reminded of it when I visited Steve Robinson’s blog. This is a great quote to use in a catechumen class. But it’s also a great reminder for the recently converted. I’m quickly approaching the one-year mark of my conversion and this quote is a very timely reminder of why I chose to become an Orthodox Christian.

“This process of becoming Orthodox is not something that you can do just after 6 months of catechesis and a little bit of chrism on your forehead. It’s a life-long process, because it’s being transformed into Christ. And if we can keep our focus that coming into the Orthodox Church is not about joining a new organization; it’s not joining ‘the right church’; it’s not ‘joining the historical church or the apostolic church’; or it’s not ‘joining the right church instead the wrong church that I was in.’

“But rather, it’s an entrance deeper and deeper into the mystery of Christ. Then I think we’re on the right track. Because otherwise all we’re doing is getting stuck in our heads and caught up in judgment and condemnation. In other words, we’re just stuck in our passions and we might as well have not converted anyway, because we still haven’t left the world behind.

“Our task is to incarnate that life in Christ that is not of this world. We have to be in the world, but not of it.”

I believe Met Jonah is absolutely correct. Joining the Orthodox Church is not simply about finding and joining “the right church,” “the true church,” or “the historical church.” At its core, my decision to join Orthodoxy was about its vibrant fullness of the Christian faith that will ultimately enable me and others to incarnate Christ’s life in this world. I must not lose sight of this vision.

A Shaving of Wood

I came across a wonderful quote by St Theophan the Recluse. It provides a constant reminder of my inward condition. As one who enjoys theologizing and writing, I must be ever-aware that my words and thoughts easily evaporate into nothing. He says:

Most people are like a shaving of wood which is curled round its central emptiness.

Baptism Anniversary

Three years ago today, I had one of the most meaningful and fulfilling experiences as a father — I performed my kids’ baptism.

The baptism took place at the Live Oak Vineyard, where we had been attending for awhile. I want to thank Pastor Steve and Pastor Floyd again for letting this ex-pastor have one last “pastoral fling” and baptize his children.

I wrote about the experience HERE. I also posted a video of the baptism HERE.

Little did I know that our spiritual journey as a family would soon take us around a corner and into the Orthodox Church.

As I mentioned in my original post about my children’s baptism, the event is a powerful reminder to me that my children belong to Christ first and foremost. He will always be with them, even when I cannot.

And the event is also a reminder that my children are part of Christ’s Church. I am moved during Divine Liturgy when I watch my kids receive the Eucharist. I am thrilled by the knowledge that they will grow up in the fullness of Christ’s life that resides in the Orthodox Church.

There is a beautiful prayer in the Orthodox Prayer Book that I use when I pray for my kids. It summarizes their baptism and everything I could desire for them as their father:

O God, our heavenly Father, Who lovest mankind, and art most merciful and compassionate, have mercy upon our children, Thy servants, for whom I humbly pray Thee, and commend them to Thy gracious protection. Be Thou, O God, their guide and guardian in all their endeavors; lead them in the path of Thy truth, and draw them near to Thee, that they may lead a godly and righteous life in Thy love and fear; doing Thy will in all matters. Give them grace that they may be temperate, industrious, diligent, devout and charitable. Defend them against the assaults of the enemy, and grant them wisdom and strength to resist all temptation and corruption of this life; and direct them in the way of salvation, for the merits of Thy Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, and the intercessions of His Holy Mother, and Thy blessed saints. Amen.

Fr Ted & Tradition

In many Christian circles, the word “tradition” can evoke negative images. We might think of church board meetings where someone ultimately raises the argument, “But we’ve always done it this way.” We rarely think of tradition as something fresh and relevant for now. However, Fr Ted Bobosch does. And I agree wholeheartedly with him:

Tradition, like Scripture, is not  made holy by being carved into stone, but rather by being interpreted within a community, by being the heart of the community’s relationship to God and the world.  Tradition is thus alive and constantly relating to the world, not written in stone and frozen in some past understanding.  For St. Paul, Tradition is dynamic, creative, vivifying and renewing and keeps people focused on the goal – where God is leading us to, not the past and where we were.   Tradition is not the ship’s anchor, but its sail.   It consists not of repeating past teachings, but of interpreting God’s Word for the current generation.

Fr Ted then offers a lengthy quote by Sylvia C. Keesmaat that is worth reading. Bottom-line, Tradition sets our trajectory into the future. And “what gives a tradition its life is an effective interpretation for a new time and context.” This is worth some serious reflection.

Working Out Our Salvation

Debbie posted a comment with some good questions in my previous post that I wanted to address. Since, I knew my response would be lengthy, I chose to respond in a new post rather than in the comments. Also, I may not be the most reliable person to answer these questions. This is simply my personal opinion and everyone is welcome to disagree.

Fr Stephen Freeman has a great often-repeated quote, “Jesus did not die in order to make bad men good – He died to make dead men live.” In this statement, Fr Stephen touches upon the real issue of our sin and distortion. Spiritual death — sin, corruption and death — is the devastating result of humanity’s rebellion and separation from God. All of humanity and creation have become broken and distorted. A destructive disharmony exists between humanity and God, between humans themselves and between humanity and creation.

The primary issue is our estrangement from God and its subsequent spiritual death. We are separated from the very Source of Life and therefore our very nature as human beings has become corrupted.

Therefore, our salvation is the renewal of the image of God in us through restored communion with God. Jesus is our Savior because he first vanquishes the death and corruption that enslaves all creation at the cosmic level and then invites us to appropriate this reality at a personal level through a cooperative life with God that restores communion with God.

This cooperative life with God is described in various ways in the New Testament. Jesus described it as denying yourself and taking up your cross. St Peter called it “participating in the divine nature.” St Paul described it as taking off the old self with its practices and putting on the new self which is being renewed in the image of its creator. He described it in another place as offering our bodies to God as a living sacrifice by not being conformed to the pattern of this broken world and by being transformed through the renewal of our mind.

In other words, the key to salvation or transformation is a life immersed in God’s grace that progressively discards our old nature and acquires the new nature, which Christ fully embodied. In Orthodox theology, we call this theosis. Here’s a definition from Orthodoxwiki:

Theosis (“deification,” “divinization”) is the process of a worshiper becoming free of hamartía (“missing the mark”), being united with God, beginning in this life and later consummated in bodily resurrection. For Orthodox Christians, Théōsis (see 2 Pet. 1:4) is salvation. Théōsis assumes that humans from the beginning are made to share in the Life or Nature of the all-Holy Trinity. Therefore, an infant or an adult worshiper is saved from the state of unholiness (hamartía — which is not to be confused with hamártēma “sin”) for participation in the Life (zōé, not simply bíos) of the Trinity — which is everlasting.

Theosis is a divinely empowered transformation of our nature through participating in the Life of God.

So what does this look like in daily practice? Moving further from theology and closer to practice, it is a life consisting of two simultaneous dimensions — an ascetical dimension and a sacramental dimension — both lived out within the overall life of the Church.

The ascetical dimension is struggling against our passions (our evil and distorted desires) with God’s grace. This is much more than behavioral modification, as important as that may be. For example, in 1Corinthians 13, we read St Paul describing love as not being easily angered. And so, many people expend a lot of energy not displaying anger even though they may be seething internally. That is not love. St Paul is not making a list of proper Christian behavior nor a description of how to act lovingly. Rather, he’s painting a portrait of what divine love looks like in human form when a person is genuinely transformed into the very love that God is. And that can only occur with God’s divine power.

So the ascetical dimension is a life of fighting and struggling as we baby-step our passions into proper order. This is practiced in cooperation with God’s grace and preferably under the direction of a wise spiritual father and within the collective wisdom of the Church. This is why fasting is a primary and almost universal ascetical practice within the Church. It is a practice that Jesus taught and that the Church has honed through the centuries. So we infuse our lives with this discipline and these small steps, when practiced wisely, help us struggle against our distorted wills in God’s grace.

Certainly, other practices may help. Regulating what we take in through our eyes and ears can be helpful, especially depending on what God is doing in our lives. But there are a couple things to remember as we engage in the ascetical life. First, we must remember that such practices don’t make a person a “good” or a “bad” Christian. We should never judge ourselves or others based on our successes or failures in these practices. Second, we can actually hinder God’s work in us by unwisely embracing practices that God hasn’t given to us. We can easily be crushed by joyless misery or swell with pride at our accomplishments. This is why the advice of a spiritual father and the collective wisdom of the Church is highly recommended.

The sacramental dimension is the mystical participation in divine grace. As Orthodox Christians, we have very specific Sacraments or Mysteries in which we participate in the life and grace of God. These specific moments, and in a more generic way all aspects of life, draw us into koinonia (participation in and shared lives) with God. Our lives are transformed into the likeness of Christ by the energies of God.

Like the ascetical life, there are a few important matters worth remembering. First, we must remember that transformation is a slow lifelong process. It is neither instantaneous nor experienced in great leaps and bounds. It will only be consummated in the New Creation. Second, the natural byproduct of transformation will be the dispassion of perfected love of God and others, not just modified behavior. Our distorted passions will be ordered and aligned with our healed will and soul. Third, we are not the ones who are overcoming our own sins. There is not a direct one-to-one correlation between the amount of our participation in the ascetical and sacramental life and our personal transformation. Only God transforms us. St Macarius wrote:

To uproot sin and the evil that is so imbedded in our sinning can be done only by divine power, for it is impossible and outside man’s competence to uproot sin. To struggle, yes, to continue to fight, to inflict blows, and to receive setbacks is in your power. To uproot, however, belongs to God alone. If you could have done it on your own, what would have been the need for the coming of the Lord?

Debbie voiced a desire that I believe many people share, “I want to see that kind of humanity [as embodied in Jesus] lived out.” But we must be very careful neither to shape that vision in our own image nor hold unattainable expectations for ourselves and others. Our eyes must always be turned inwardly to the kingdom of God within and not toward judging the success of others nor what we hope others may see in us.

In regard to training our children, we must help them live within the ascetical and sacramental life of the Church. We must also help them live within the world while simultaneously guarding their hearts from the influence of the broken world. Here is some instruction from St Basil:

Young people must be made to distinguish between helpful and injurious knowledge, keeping clearly in mind the Christian’s purpose in life. So, like the athlete or the musician, they must bend every energy to one task, the winning of the heavenly crown.

This includes helping our children (and ourselves) to form proper thinking, feeling, acting and relating through instruction, encouragement, prohibitions and boundaries. This isn’t legalistic as long as obedience or disobedience to all of this is not associated with being either a “good” or “bad” Christian or as somehow altering God’s love for us.

Again, I need to repeat that the primary issue in all of us, parents and children alike, is separation from God and the resultant spiritual death. So, the primary focus is always restored communion with God as we discussed above. And our role as parents is to make that available to our children, model it for them, encourage them to enter and pray, pray, pray for them.

Again, all of this is opinion and is subject to correction and change.

Incarnation and Salvation

I would wager that most Christians easily associate Christ’s Incarnation with humanity’s need for salvation. It’s popularly recited, “God became man in order to save us.” In fact, I would even go further and wager that most Christians believe our need for salvation compelled God to become man. I’ve lost count of how many “gospel presentations” I’ve heard stating that God’s only course of action was to become human and rescue us. And I’ve heard the Incarnation reduced even further to such statements as “God became human just so that he could die for us.”

While such a statement contains a modicum of truth, I believe it misses the amazing truth of how our salvation is contained within Christ’s Incarnation. Certainly God became human to save us. And he saves us by becoming like us — the Word of God took on human nature so that we humans might participate in his divine nature (2 Pet 1:4). Or to quote St Athanasius once again, “God became man so that man might become god.” In other words, our salvation isn’t simply found in the several hours of Jesus dying on the cross. Rather, our salvation is found in the entire event of the Incarnation — from Gabriel’s pronouncement, through conception, pregnancy, and birth, through Christ’s entire life, through his crucifixion and resurrection and even beyond.

Because through the Incarnation, we discover the amazing reality of “God with us.” That is our salvation.

Our salvation is communion with God, who has taken on our nature and dwells with us. We have koinonia with him, which means we share our lives with him; we participate in him and he in us. And in that sharing of lives, we are being transformed into the likeness of Christ, who is not only the genuine image of God, but also the genuine image of humanity. Jesus wasn’t just God in a shell of human skin and flesh. He was fully God and fully human. And in the fullness of his humanity, Christ embodies the kind of humanity into which we are being saved.

So, through Jesus — the Word and Image of God incarnate — God is recreating and renewing his image within humanity. Yet this renewal requires the vanquishing of the death and corruption that continues to distort the image of God in us. Death and corruption must first be vanquished at a cosmic level, accomplished through Jesus’ crucifixion. That’s why we sing at Pascha:

“Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death. And upon those in the tomb, bestowing life.”

But the death and corruption that finds residence in our lives also must be expunged at a practical level. Christ died on a cross not so we could avoid one, but so we could take up one ourselves. The New Testament documents are replete with pastoral exhortations to mortify whatever belongs to the old nature and to begin practicing by grace that which belongs to the new nature, the renewed image of God as embodied in Christ. So in practice, communion with God requires both an ascetical side of dying to self and a sacramental side of participating in the divine grace. Through this process we work out our salvation and become by grace what God is by nature.

Incarnation and Image

Spurred on by St Athanasius’ quote that I highlighted in my previous post, I have been reflecting on the Incarnation. I’m once again astonished at the magnitude of God’s work through Christ. It’s in that startling and mysterious event when God became man and heaven and earth uniquely merged that we find a realigning of humankind’s and creation’s conjoined trajectory toward salvation and restoration.

Truly, we discover our salvation in the Incarnation of the Word of God. As St Athanasius states, “He, indeed, assumed humanity that we might become god.” The Incarnation is intimately connected with the Image of God. We are being saved as we are reimaged into God. Our salvation is a forward movement in that we are not being saved backward into the original image of God that we find in the opening chapters of Genesis. Rather, we are being saved forward into the full maturity of the image of God as embodied in Jesus, the genuine human being.

And as the image of God that is depicted in Genesis was expressed through the proper stewardship of creation, the fullness of this image, as embodied in Christ and to which we ourselves are being saved, is expressed through a restorative and transformative stewardship of creation. We see this subtly demonstrated in the Eucharist.

During the Divine Liturgy, as we move closer to the Eucharist, the priest states, “Thine own of thine own we offer unto thee, in behalf of all, and for all.” Our offering experiences a threefold movement. First, our offering is given to us by God. God gives us wheat and grapes from the ground. He is the Treasury of good things and Giver of Life and we gratefully receive his benefaction. Second, our offering is the work of our hands as we present to him not wheat and grapes, but bread and wine. We do not simply offer back the raw fruits of the ground. As creation’s stewards, we cultivate, transform and return God’s gifts, mingled with our creativity and labor. Third, our offering is then transformed by God into his very presence and life — the actual Body and Blood of Christ — of which we then partake and carry into the world. In this way, heaven and earth merge in accordance with God’s original design.

Frankly, God could have skipped us in the process. Yet it has always been his intention that heaven and earth intersect through our creative cooperation with his will. We reflect his image into creation through our stewardship. We impart his life as we live in him, the Source and Giver of Life.

Simply put, as goes humanity, so goes creation. As humanity finds life in God, so creation finds life in God. As humanity fell and became distorted, so creation fell and became distorted. As humanity is rescued back into the life of God, so creation is rescued back into the life of God. In Christ’s Incarnation, God’s life fills human life. Then through human life, God’s life seeps into all of creation, reclaiming, reconciling and renewing every bit of space, time and matter from its destructive trajectory and resetting creation’s course toward the future God intended.

The threefold movement of the Eucharist forms a paradigm of our stewardship in the world as we are being saved and formed into the image of Christ. God graciously gives to us. We thankfully receive his gift, creatively and cooperatively develop it, and then humbly offer our work back to God. God then fills our offering with his very presence, transforming it even further so that it becomes a source of his life to us and to the world. This sacramental paradigm applies to all of the various areas and intricacies of daily life. In this way, we are the Body of Christ, his ongoing incarnation within creation.

Counting the Waves

A recent email conversation ignited within me a renewed interest in the Incarnation. Over the years, the elements of the Incarnation, much like the Image of God, have shaped large portions of my theological landscape.

Yesterday, I finished St Athanasius’, On the Incarnation. One line toward the end just about took my breath away:

In short, such and so many are the Savior’s achievements that follow from His Incarnation, that to try to number them is like gazing at the open sea and trying to count the waves.

That’s exactly what I’ve thought about the Incarnation. The Reality of the Incarnation is like a massive sea, mysterious and frightening, yet captivating and alluring. God takes on our humanity so that we might become god. Can you feel the splash of the mighty waves upon your face?

The repercussions of the Incarnation are like seismic vibrations rumbling through the bedrock of our very human nature as well as through all of creation. Creator God has become a human being and entered into the very time and space that he created in order to reclaim, reconcile and renew every bit of it back to himself. Can you feel the resonating tremors throb through your being?

Quotes on Prayer

Here are some great quotes on prayer that are worth reflecting upon that I extracted from Fr Stephen’s post on prayer:

Prayer is a matter of love. Man expresses love through prayer, and if we pray, it is an indication that we love God.

Only if prayer is living communion with God does it make sense to strive for unceasing prayer. The commandment to “pray always” is tantamount to saying: “Live!”

Indeed prayer is the sound (whether spoken or not) of God within us.

Fr Stephen & “Theology of the Image”

I have been enamored with the theology of “the image of God” for the last several years. I am convinced this reality is key to not only understanding our purpose and destiny as human beings, but also to understanding and living more fully our identity in Christ. Fr Stephen’s post is a wonderful summary of the theology of the image. Here are a couple of highlight paragraphs:

“For St. Paul, Adam’s creation in the “image and likeness” of God is fulfilled in Christ. “The first man [Adam] is of the earth (in Hebrew, “of the earth” would be Adamah). “The second man [Christ] is of heaven” (1 Corinthians 15:47 ). It is this re-reading of Genesis that allows St. Paul to say that “just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.” The Genesis story of Adam is a prefiguring of Christ – in St. Paul the final meaning of Genesis is to be found in its fulfillment in Christ. The Second Adam (one of Paul’s names for Christ) is the true image and likeness of the Father – an image and likeness never fulfilled by the First Adam. Salvation in Christ is a “new creation” for St. Paul – in it, those who are saved are re-created and “conformed to the image” of Christ. Salvation as “conformity to the image” is clearly an important understanding for St. Paul – but sadly neglected by many Christians.”

“Christ is the true image of the invisible God – the God/Man who makes visible and tangible to us the God Whom we could not otherwise know. He is the Second Adam, the true image to which we shall be conformed. Apart from Christ, man lives in the image of the man of earth, the First Adam, and fails to live according to the likeness of God. In Christ, God makes us to become what we were always intended to become – the image and likeness of God.”

Fr Sophrony’s Prayer

As a new Orthodox Christian, I have to admit that one of the most difficult things I’ve been learning to do is pray. This might sound strange coming from a Christian of over 20 years and from a professional pastor of 14 years. But it’s true. Becoming an Orthodox Christian doesn’t simply mean joining “another” Christian church. At the risk of sounding a bit melodramatic, becoming an Orthodox Christian means embracing a completely different Christian worldview. Believe me, the differences between Orthodoxy and Protestant Evangelicalism run far deeper than what one may see on the surface. But that topic will have to wait for future posts.

Because Orthodoxy is so different that Evangelicalism, my family and I are relearning how to pray. I remember theologian Gordon Fee once stating, “I can tell what a person actually believes by what they pray and what they sing.” That statement contains a lot of truth. As I have journeyed further into Orthodoxy, I’ve realized that what I used to pray for and how I used to pray as an Evangelical revealed some very faulty theology on my part.

One piece of advice Fr Patrick gave my family and me as young Orthodox Christians is to only pray using the Orthodox prayer book in order to relearn how to pray. He told us that we need to learn how to pray with the Church. Over the centuries, the Orthodox Church has learned how to pray so that their theology and practice are completely aligned. So, part of the life of Christ available in the Orthodox Church is learning to pray with the Church.

Using prayers written by someone else was almost scandalous to me as an Evangelical. In my old worldview, prayer was relational and relationships were spontaneous. Therefore, I had been taught to “pray from the heart” and to “talk to God like I would anyone else.” And while there is something valuable with this instruction, if I were to be honest, spontaneous prayer eventually devolved into something “less than” spontaneous. For example, prayers before meals and prayers for common requests eventually took on a rote nature. In effect, my prayer life was being formed by collecting and using “spiritually sounding” prayers that others had prayed or that I had prayed myself.

Now as an Orthodox Christian, I am truly appreciating written prayers. My mind and heart are being reformed (and hopefully transformed) by the prayers of men and women far more spiritual, intelligent and holier than me. Not only am I relearning sound theology as I pray, but I’m peering ever deeper into God’s mind and heart as I pray the prayers of those who have been immersed far deeper in God’s mind and heart than me. These prayers are helping me to find words to express myself to God, words that I would never have found even on a really good day.

So with that lengthy introduction, I wanted to say that I was pleased when I found a prayer by Fr Sophrony on Fr Stephen Freeman’s blog this morning. There is such spiritual depth and beauty to this prayer. This is one prayer that I will be praying over and over and hope to eventually incarnate over time.

O Eternal Lord and Creator of all things, in your inscrutable goodness you have called me into this life and have given me the grace of baptism and the seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit.  You have instilled in me the desire to seek your face.  Hear my prayer!

I have no life, no light, no joy, no strength, no wisdom without you, O God.   Because of my unrighteousness, I dare not lift my eyes in your presence.  But I obey you who said:

Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.  (Mark 11)

Truly, truly I say to you, if you ask anything of the Father He will give it to you in my name.   Until now you have asked nothing in my name.  Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.  (John 16)

Therefore I now dare to approach you.  Purify me from all stain of flesh and spirit.  Teach me to pray rightly.  Bless this day which you give to me, your unworthy servant.

By the power of your blessing enable me at all times to speak and to act with a pure spirit to your glory;  with faith, hope and love, humility, patience, gentleness, peace, purity, simplicity, sobriety, courage and wisdom.  Let me always be aware of your presence.

In your boundless goodness, O Lord God, show me your will and grant me to walk in your sight without sin.

O Lord, unto whom all hearts are open, you know what I need and what is necessary for me.  You know my blindness and my ignorance.  You know my infirmity and corruption.  My pain and anguish are not hidden from you.  Therefore I beg you:  Hear my prayer and teach me by the power of your Holy Spirit the way in which I should walk.  And when my perverted will leads me otherwise, O Lord, do not spare me, but force me back to your way.

Grant me, Lord, to hold fast to what is good by the power of your love.  Preserve me from every word and act which corrupts the soul, and from every impulse that is unpleasing in your sight and harmful to the people around me.  Teach me what I should say and how I should speak.  If it be your holy will that I be quiet and make no answer, inspire me to be silent in a peaceful spirit that causes neither harm nor hurt to my fellow human beings.

Establish me in the path of your commandments, and until my last breath do not let me stray from the light of your ordinances.  May your commandments be the sole law of my being in this life and for all eternity.

O Lord, I pray to you:  Have mercy on me.  Spare me in my affliction and misery and hide not the way of salvation from me.

In my foolishness, O God, I plead with you for many and great things.  Yet I am ever mindful of my wickedness, my baseness, my vileness.  Have pity on me!  Cast me not away from your presence because of my foolish presumption.  Increase rather in me the right presumption of your grace and grant that I, the worst of people, may love you with all my mind, all my heart, all my soul and all my strength, as you have commanded.

By your Holy Spirit, Lord, teach me good judgment and sound knowledge.  Let me know the truth before I die.  Maintain my life in this world until the end that I may offer worthy repentance.  Do not take me away while my mind is still blind and bound by darkness.  When you are pleased to end my life, give me warning that I may prepare my soul to come before you.  Be with me, Lord, at that awesome hour and assure me by your grace of the joy of my salvation.

Cleanse me from secret faults.  Purify me from hidden iniquities.  Give me a good answer at your dread judgment seat.

Lord of great mercy and measureless love for all people:  Hear my prayer!  Amen.

(With editing by Fr. Thomas Hopko)

Personal Transfiguration

I had a wonderful meeting with Fr Patrick yesterday afternoon. I cannot adequately express my joy at having a spiritual father whom I consider both wise and safe. In addition, I never feel I’m receiving spiritual advice that has not first been hammered out in his own life. Fr Patrick is a trustworthy fellow sojourner on the path to salvation and life in Christ.

Yesterday, he reminded me of a very simple truth that has been resonating in my mind all night and morning. He said that the place of personal transfiguration is where God’s divine energies and our personal repentance meet. This “equation” for spiritual formation is neither a magical formula nor an instantaneous event. It requires both the discipline of an ascetic life and an abundance of time as we cooperate with God’s grace. But this simple equation basically summarizes the life of the Orthodox Church. The life of the Church through its Scriptures, services, sacraments and stories of the saints, is aimed at helping us by both developing personal repentance and exposing us to God’s divine energies.

I’m particularly captivated with Orthodoxy’s focus on repentance. Frankly, constantly hearing about repentance when we first began attending the Orthodox Church rubbed me the wrong way. Repentance is not a popular concept in American Christianity. It’s often associated with the “Woe-is-me-Beat-myself-up” mentality of abusive and destructive religion. It took some time for me to purge that image out of my head.

But that’s not repentance at all. Repentance literally means “to change one’s mind.” It’s used during the New Testament time in a similar way as our modern phrase, “Think about it.” To repent is to hear an alternative to one’s agenda or course of action, to carefully weigh the consequences of both, and ultimately to recognize the wisdom of the alternative and lay down your inferior agenda. Repentance isn’t just changing one’s mental perspective but it’s the actual transformation of one’s mind and subsequently, one’s life. When you embrace the superior alternative, it begins to transform your values, perspective and behavior. It’s a complete shift of worldview.

St. Isaac the Syrian correctly defines repentance as “to be transformed in the renewal of the mind.” While it can include remorse or confessing to breaking a law, repentance is ultimately the process of becoming one in heart and mind with Christ. Therefore, it is something we do through the rest of our lives.

So spiritual formation in the Orthodox Church is to be constantly confronted with the superior way, truth and life that is Christ himself, to be encouraged and urged to weigh the consequences of my self-destructive patterns of thinking, behaving and relating in light of the better way of Christ, and to lay down my way and to take up my cross and follow Christ. And this entire process is soaked in God’s divine energies.

“But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the lord, who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:16-18

It is this way that the Church is therapeutic, healing and repairing us of our brokenness and distortion. It is this way that the Church is like a gym, training and honing us into holiness.

Silence of the Lips

I found this great quote on Cameron’s  “We Live and Move and Have Our Being” blog.

“Silence of lips is better and more wonderful than any edifying conversation. Strive to acquire humility and submissiveness. Never insist that anything should be according to your will, for this gives birth to anger. Do not judge or humiliate anyone, for this gives birth to anger. Do not judge or humiliate anyone, for this exhausts the heart and blinds the mind, and thereon leads to negligence and makes the heart unfeeling.”
- St Barsanuphius

Okay. I know quotes like these can evoke a “Yeah, but…” response in us. But I would encourage you to reflect on the truth contained there and let it seep deep.

Fr Patrick’s New Website

Our family is blessed to have Fr Patrick O’Grady as our priest. So I’m pleased to announce that he has a brand-spanking new website! A friend of mine has been building it for him and it went live yesterday. Mmm… I just love that “new website” smell. Go check it out HERE.

Exaltation of the Life-Giving Cross

Today is the Feast of The Elevation of the Venerable and Life-Giving Cross. I found a wonderful quote on Fr Ted Bobosh’s blog that I thought was worth sharing:

“Only the cross can meet the suspicion of escapism: God gives hope not by promising to pull us into a different world but by offering us a fresh beginning in this world, by himself coming to a place of the very sort we are tempted to escape, a place where suffering, opposition, and senseless conspire to make life appear utterly futile and unbearable.  Only the cross can meet the suspicion of optimism in human nature: God gives us hope by meeting us not at the lofty summits of human achievement but at the point where all purely human hopes have shrunk and collapsed; it is here that exhausted human hope can be remade out of inexhaustible possibilities of God’s love.  Only the cross can meet the suspicion of violent domination: God gives us hope not by defeating the powers of darkness with some equivalent act of violence from above but by submitting to them and bearing their force from below, not by an imperial force that crushes from on high but by a love that absorbs evil in the depths.  This is the way of Golgatha, God’s wisdom (1 Cor. 1:18-25).”   (Jeremy S. Begbie, Resounding Truth)

Happy Golden Birthday, Chris!

Today, my youngest turns ten! He is the last of our children to cross the invisible barrier from single-digit to double-digit age. And, boy is he ready. Being the youngest of four children, Chris seems to have grown up much faster than the others. Chris is a bundle of joyous energy. He loves making people laugh. But there is a deeper, more serious side to Chris as well. I’m startled at times by how perceptive he can be in complex situations. Chris also loves his brother and sisters. While he does take time to be by himself, he seems to find his true identity in the communion of his siblings. He loves playing with them, talking with them and joking with them. Chris is awesome and I am so proud of who he is.

Happy Birthday, Chris! I hope God grants you a long, happy and holy life.

A New View on Theology

For twenty-three years as a Protestant, theology was basically an exercise in abstract doctrinal formulation. One was correct in theology if one assented to a pre-determined set of doctrinal bullet points. In this light, theology is about opinions. Surely, educated opinions, but opinions nonetheless.

During the last few years of my journey as a Protestant, I took this practice to its most logical conclusion. Burned too many times by embracing doctrines, ideas and opinions simply because I was told they were true and I must embrace them, I set about constructing my own theological system. Drawing heavily upon NT Wright and other theologians that I respected, I built a theological construct with which I could live.

One of the first things I realized on my way to becoming an Orthodox Christian is that theology is not viewed as matter of opinion in Orthodoxy. Nor is it about formulating an abstract religious belief system. In Orthodoxy, theology is life. As a Protestant, a theologian was one who usually had acquired the appropriate academic training. However, as an Orthodox, a theologian was one who had developed purity in prayer. In fact, there is an Orthodox adage, “The one who has purity in prayer is a true theologian, and the one who is a true theologian has purity in prayer.”

Frankly, that leaves me out. I spent too much time and money pursuing the academic side of theology and too little time praying. Obviously, this was a disappointing epiphany. But when I think about it, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m glad theology in the Orthodox Church isn’t left in the hands of people like me — men and women who have spent more time with their head in books rather than before icons in prayer.

A new post by Fr Stephen Freeman makes this crystal clear. In it he says:

Fr. Georges Florovsky, of blessed memory, once wrote that doctrine is “a verbal icon of Christ.” That statement may not carry much weight with the non-Orthodox – but should come as a profound revelation for contemporary Orthodox believers. What we find in the teaching of the Church is not a collection of “right opinions” but a verbal representation of Christ, similar to the representation found in the holy icons. Again, the non-Orthodox may not perceive the power in this statement – but it is an important way for Orthodox Christians to remove themselves from the position of valuing opinions and restore them to the position of holding doctrine in its proper veneration.

Orthodox theology is a verbal representation of Christ. This is HUGE! This removes theology from the realm of academics, theory, and opinions and places it in its rightful place within the obedient life of the Church. And this truth requires a significant transformation within me so that I learn to yield my opinions to the teaching of the Church and embrace the representation of Christ that is revealed within that teaching.

Speak to God about Your Children

I saw this quote on Orrologion’s blog, who found it on Adventures of an Orthodox Mom’s blog:

“Pray and then speak. That’s what to do with your children. If you are constantly lecturing them, you’ll become tiresome and when they grow up they’ll feel a kind of oppression. Prefer prayer and speak to them through prayer. Speak to God and God will speak to their hearts. That is, you shouldn’t give guidance to your children with a voice that they hear with their ears. You may do this too, but above all you should speak to God about your children. Say, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, give Your light to my children. I entrust them to You. You gave them to me, but I am weak and unable to guide them, so, please, illuminate them.’ And God will speak to them and they will say to themselves, ‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have upset Mummy by doing that!’ And with the grace of God this will come from their heart.”

“It is not sufficient for the parents to be devout. They mustn’t oppress the children to make them good by force. We may repel our children from Christ when we pursue the things of our religion with egotism.” - Elder Porphyrios in Wounded by Love

Holy Icons

Among the strangest, yet most wonderful things I have encountered in Holy Orthodoxy are the holy icons. They are stunningly beautiful. And intellectually, I had no problem accepting their place in Orthodox worship and  spirituality. However, learning to venerate the icons as an integral part of my own participation in Orthodox worship and spirituality was a significant and awkward hurdle as a former Protestant.

Interestingly, my children led the way for me. After several visits to St. Peter’s, my kids asked if they could join the parish members in venerating the icons. Since our family was exploring Orthodoxy together, how could I deny them this experience? While several of my evangelical red flags were flying high, my children seemed to have no qualms with crossing themselves, bowing before and kissing the icons. As our family journeyed through our first Lent, I made a decision. I didn’t want my evangelical reservations, which had no place in Orthodoxy anyways, to prevent me from experiencing the fullness of Lent and the approaching Holy Week. So after one of the services, and with a great amount of trepidation, I joined the other parish members in venerating the icon. It felt like everyone was watching me. In hindsight I know that was not true. Veneration of the icons is a very personal moment and each person is given their appropriate privacy.

Now, almost 18 months later, I cannot imagine worship and prayer, even life in general, without the icons. The icons are the thin veil between the dimensions of earth and heaven, points of communion with God. Each icon is an expression of the incarnation, the presence of God embedded within material and flesh. The icons depict the cloud of witnesses who have attained the fullness of Christ and are now interceding for my salvation. As I gaze upon the icons, I gaze upon reality of the risen life in Christ within those who are my fathers and mothers and my brothers and sisters in Christ, without whom my journey to salvation would be impossible.

So that’s my personal experience with the icons. The catalyst for this reflection was a wonderful explanation of icons by Fr Stephen Freeman. Again, Fr Stephen hits one out of the park. While his post is not an exhaustive explanation and may not alleviate the evangelical misgivings of idolatry, it is a great introduction if one is trying to understand the role of icons in the Orthodox life. Here’s a great quote from Fr Stephen’s post:

The veneration of the saints in the Holy Icons is a lesson to the heart of how to venerate Christ in every person (who is made “in His image” [icon]).

Frankly, knowing the hardness of my own heart, that lesson alone is worth everything.

Could Bad Theology Get Any Worse?

I just watched a preview for a new movie called, Legion. Here’s the synopsis from the website:

In the supernatural action thriller Legion, an out-of-the-way diner becomes the unlikely battleground for the survival of the human race. When God loses faith in Mankind, he sends his legion of angels to bring on the Apocalypse. Humanity’s only hope lies in a group of strangers trapped in a desert diner and the Archangel Michael.

Ooookay…

So God gets fed up with humanity and sends his angels, who are led by the Archangel Gabriel and who all look pretty demonic, to exterminate us. But thank God (or perhaps not) the Archangel Michael likes us more than God enough to rebel against Him to save our collective butts.

I’m not even sure where to begin with this one.

Violence or Humility

Fr Stephen Freeman has written another great post today. (Quite frankly, when does he NOT write a great post.) Please take five minutes to read it.

Part of his post was an outstanding quote by Stanley Hauerwas, theologian and professor at Duke University:

“The Christian community’s openness to new life and our conviction of the sovereignty of God over that life are but two sides of the same conviction. Christians believe that we have the time in this existence to care for new life, especially as such life is dependent and vulnerable, because it is not our task to rule this world or to “make our mark on history.” We can thus take the time to live in history as God’s people who have nothing more important to do than to have and care for children. For it is the Christian claim that knowledge and love of God is fostered by service to the neighbor, especially the most helpless, as in fact that is where we find the kind of Kingdom our God would have us serve.”     A Community of Character

This quote was followed by another:

“So soon as Christians agree to take responsibility for the outcome of history, we have agreed to do violence.”

This thought is worth some serious reflection on both political and personal levels: It is neither the Christian’s nor the Church’s task to rule this world nor make our mark on history. And the moment we shoulder that responsibility, we have agreed to do violence.

Now this does not mean we simply huddle in a corner and gnaw on our fingernails with dread and worry. Rather, we are to take up our proper responsibility, marked first by the conviction of God’s sovereignty over life and second by the “downward Way” of humility.

In hindsight, it seems my entire adult Christian life was aimed, although unintentionally, at obscuring the true Gospel. I had one fiery passion. I wanted to change the world. I wanted the Church to change the world. I wanted to build a local church with members who would join its leadership in changing the world. I taught and programmed our church with the intent on helping others change the world. My life had purpose and I had big hairy audacious goals.

And I was a man of violence.

Sure, if you had confronted me with that accusation, I would have denied it. Angrily denied it. I was doing God’s work of bringing his kingdom to earth. So please get the heck out of my way.

And those around me suffered violence. Sure I didn’t physically abuse anyone. But my wife and kids had a husband and father that was constantly absent. And when I was physically present with them, I was usually mentally and emotionally absent as I mulled over ways of improving my leadership and ministry or impatient with them for taking up my valuable time. My volunteer leadership suffered violence as I subtly forced my agenda upon their ministries or downright replaced them when they didn’t live up to my expectations. I mentally categorized people by what they could offer to our church by their strengths, wealth, and gifts. And I suffered violence at my own hands through stress, imbalance and a lack of any inward formation.

Now, I wasn’t a task master. I was a really nice man of violence.  I tried treating people with respect. I tried to protect people from overworking in and overgiving to the church. I tried to pray for and care for everyone who came into and served our church. But my relationship with everyone was primarily shaped by my goals of building a church that would change the world. And so, my life and ministry incarnated the way of violence and took its toll on those around me.

I’m happy to say that God is rescuing me from that path. I can thoroughly appreciate Hauerwas’ quote:

“We can thus take the time to live in history as God’s people who have nothing more important to do than to have and care for children.”

I have been experiencing and continue to experience a worldview change. I no longer live each day with the passion to change the world. The well-being and care of my wife and my kids are the most important things to me. I “simply” (in quotes because it’s not a simple thing) want to be a good man to my family, friends, coworkers and any others God brings my way. I have a long way to go in this goal. And the only way to truly accomplish this is to enter into and follow Christ into his humility — the downward Way.

I used to measure my personal success by the amount of people I was influencing through conversations, preaching and writing. I’m now understanding what Fr Stephen says, that our goals should be measured by the “measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Eph 4:13).

I still have goals, but they are very, very different than my previous ones. One of my personal goals is for my wife and kids to look back upon their lives and know that they were genuinely, unconditionally and constantly loved by me. That may sound simple, especially in a world that is wrestling with some dire issues. But in reality, authentic love is such a rare thing today. It doesn’t happen naturally because it requires a certain kind of life that most avoid.

Fr Stephen ends his post by speaking of the Tradition of the Holy Elders who embrace, live and embody the downward Way:

“Their lives, frequently hidden from the larger view of the world, are the continuing manifestation of the Kingdom of God in our midst – fellows of the sufferings of Christ – who freely and voluntarily bear with Christ the weight of all humanity. It is this secret bearing that forms the very foundation of the world – a foundation without which the world would long ago have perished into nothing. It is the emptiness of Christ, also shared in its depths by His saints, that is the vessel of the fullness of God, the source of all life and being. We can search for nothing greater.”

During my journey here, I will most likely never experience this fullness of humility and life in Christ. But I hope and dream to enter it a bit. For my wife and children, I yearn to wet my feet on the shores of this mighty river, even if I can’t swim in it. For them, I hope to become a humble sampling of true life and love.

Happy 12th Birthday, Danielle!

Today, my youngest daughter, Danielle, turns twelve! My baby girl is almost a teenager. Dani is turning into a beautiful young woman. She has a beautiful smile and an infectious laugh that can sweep anyone into the giggles. Dani loves to decorate the house, cook and bake, and design clothes. She’s also a cuddle-bug and loves to hug. But don’t let that fool you. She’s a tough gal and will stand up for you or stand up to you as needed. Dani, I’m very proud of you and love you very much. I hope you have a wonderful 12th birthday today.

Happy 20th Anniversary!

In my last post, I mentioned that I was reserving my 600th post to talk about a major milestone that I was approaching.   It would have been more correct to say that Debbie and I were approaching.  In a few days, we will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary!

I’m absolutely flabbergasted by this. It seems like we were just married a few years ago. But then I look at the size of my children and reality strikes.

When I reflect on the past twenty years, I am keenly aware of how fortunate I am. I have not only found someone who agreed to marry me, but someone who has chosen to be my best and most intimate friend. Virtually every evening, after the kids have gone to bed and Debbie sits next to me on the couch to unwind from the day’s activities, I am stunned by the fact that this beautiful and brilliant woman has chosen to spend her life with me; to spend that day with me; to spend that night with me.

Debbie has seen me at my worst. She has witnessed and borne the wounds of my bad decisions, my immaturity, my evil heart and my dismal failures. And despite all of this, she still chooses to love me, to trust me, to believe in me and to share her life with mine.

For those who have not met Debbie, I wish you could spend some time with her. She is gorgeous. She is intelligent. She is witty. She is funny. She is compassionate. She is courageous. She is spiritual. She is wise. She is virtuous. She is caring. She is sacrificial. She is optimistic. She is forgiving. She is generous. She is gentle. She is imaginative. She is loyal. She is an amazing person. (Oh, and did I mention she’s a Sci-Fi geek too!)

Forgive me for indulging a bit, but I absolutely love taking walks with Debbie with her hand in mine. I love looking into her eyes. I love it when she flashes me that smile that is for me alone. I love laughing with her, holding her, watching her.

When I look at Debbie, I am very conscious of how rich a man I am. I have been privileged to have spent most of my adult life with my best friend. I often imagine the kind of person I would have become without Debbie in my life. I know I would have become a self-absorbed and immature little man at best. But because God graced me with such a wonderful woman, I am confident that I am becoming a better man.

I have thoroughly enjoyed starting a family with Debbie and watching our four children mature into beautiful human beings. I see their mother’s winsome character in their lives and hope they come to realize how fortunate they are. And while I’m saddened at the thought that my children will eventually grow into adults and move on with their own lives, I’m comforted by knowing that Debbie will always remain at my side.

In fact, so much has shifted and changed in our lives. I have lost jobs and started jobs. We have changed churches and explored different forms of Christianity. We have watched friends move or die. We are watching our parents grow old and our children grow up. But through it all, our friendship and marriage has been the one constant unto which I have held.

I look forward to growing old with Debbie. I don’t know what the future holds for our lives. But I know that through the good and bad and through the joys and struggles, our love will surpass everything.

I love you, Debbie. I loved you beyond belief on our wedding day and my love has only grown over these twenty years. You’re everything to me and I pray God grants us many, many sensational years together. Happy Anniversary!

Milestones

Well, this is interesting. I’m quickly approaching three minor and one ginormous milestone.

First, after posting several iPhone Photos to my Flickr account this evening, I realized that I’m one image shy of 100 posted iPhone Photos. When I began the endeavor, I didn’t predict how fun it would be to take photos with my iPhone everyday. Not every photo is great. But learning to look constantly at life with different eyes is a wonderful exercise. You can view the entire set of iPhone Photos in my Flickr account HERE.

Second, I’m quickly approaching my 75th image on my photoblog, “Images from the Journey.” This has been a more serious endeavor of developing my skills at digital photography by trying to capture the beauty in the world around me along with some simple reflections about the image.

Third, this post is my 599th post on this blog. I know 600 is a random number, but it’s the nearest 100th and I thought it worth noting. I began this blog in March 2003. A lot has happened in the past six years. But as we say in the Orthodox Church, “It’s unto our salvation.” And quite frankly, I wouldn’t change a thing because I’m actually enjoying the person into which God is making me.

So what’s the major milestone? I think I’m going to save that one for the 600th post! See you then.

Fr Stephen Freeman & “The Fascination of Wickedness”

As always, Fr Stephen’s recent post is filled with accessible spiritual insight. Really good stuff. It’s a wonderful reminder of the power our “mere” thoughts, words and prayers possess, especially as we live in a culture that has trained us to naturally look at everything with a critical eye.

But for me, the highlight of Fr Stephen’s post was the introductory quote by The Elder Porphyrios:

Man has such powers that he can transmit good or evil to his environment. These matters are very delicate. Great care is needed. We need to see everything in a positive frame of mind. We mustn’t think anything evil about others. Even a simple glance or a sigh influences those around us. And even the slightest anger or indignation does harm. We need to have goodness and love in our soul and to transmit these things.

We need to be careful not to harbor any resentment against those who harm us, but rather to pray for them with love. Whatever any of our fellow men does, we should never think evil of him. We need always to have thoughts of love and always to think good of others. Look at St. Stephen the first martyr. He prayed, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them’ (Acts 7:60). We need to do the same.

Our goal is love. Spiritual disciplines, the various church services and the other vibrant resources of the Orthodox Church are wonderful traditions that have carried the life of Christ from the first Apostles until now and will do so far into the future. But the life of Christ is love.

“Lord, may I one day echo St Paul’s words:

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Lord, your life and your love in me and through me.”

Steeping in Orthodoxy

Author and Orthodox Christian, Frederica Mathewes-Green stated in a recent podcast that there are generally two genres of books that Orthodox Christians prefer to read — explanations or experiences. This statement was an “aha” moment for me. Lately, I’ve been pondering the reasons for my relative silence on this blog. Believe me, I’ve tried writing many posts about Orthodoxy, either its theology or my experiences as a new Orthodox Christian. However, upon starting these posts, I find myself ultimately deleting them.

While standing in Matins this past Sunday morning, I realized that I have been an Orthodox Christian for seven months. During these past seven months, and the year of exploration prior to joining the Orthodox Church, I intentionally refrained from doing a lot of reading and studying. This may seem counterproductive, but due to my personality and training, I can easily over-theorize my faith. In other words, my conceptual understanding of the faith can easily overreach my actual life experience. I’ve been guilty of this as an evangelical and I wanted to avoid this as an Orthodox Christian. So my strategy was to soak myself in the life of the Orthodox Church.

I can only relate my experiences thus far to a steeping cup of tea. There is something soothing and satisfying about tea steeping in hot water. The wafting steam carries the aroma of flavor being released from the dried leaves. My “steeping” in Orthodoxy is occurring in the normal ebbs and flows of life within the Orthodox Church. This may not sound like much to those unfamiliar with Orthodoxy, but trust me, it’s life-immersing.

And over this period of time, I’ve noticed that the water of my life is beginning to carry a subtle, yet very distinct flavor as new thoughts, values and feelings are being gently coaxed out of me through the Holy Spirit’s activity within the Church.

Prior to coming to Orthodox Christianity, I steeped for 25 years in evangelical Christianity, which included fourteen years of professional ministry and an undergraduate and graduate degree in pastoral preparation and theology. Yet, having transitioned into Orthodoxy, I’m discovering that I need to consciously set aside much of my past experiences and training.

Eastern Orthodox Christianity, in its theology and practice, is very different from and occasionally incompatible with western Protestant Christianity. Just like it would be wrong for me to experience and judge a new culture into which I’ve moved with my American values, so it is wrong to experience and judge Orthodox Christianity with my old Protestant evangelical values. For example, historically speaking alone, Orthodoxy never encountered the issues and abuses that led to the Protestant Reformation. So what right do I have to use the Protestant theology that flowed from the Reformation as some sort of plumb line for my new life as an Orthodox Christian?

This places me in a somewhat awkward position as one who enjoys writing. As the theological concepts and spiritual practices that dominated most of my evangelical life fade away, I’m trying to write less and less from an evangelical perspective so as to allow the new worldview of Orthodoxy to seep deep within me.

Yet in light of Frederica’s comment, I have not learned enough to explain much about Orthodox Christianity in this blog. And I’m committed not to reading and studying a lot for several more months. But having only steeped for seven months, I don’t feel my experiences in Orthodoxy are very flavorful yet either. So, do I remain silent, or write about things of which I know little, or write about my extremely limited experiences?

Frankly, I haven’t decided what I will do yet. (My indecision toward this blog probably explains the additional activity on my photoblog and Flickr account lately.) Although I’m leaning toward writing about my minimal experiences as a new Orthodox Christian, I’m aware of the need for caution. Heeding Fr. Stephen Freeman’s words, I desire to guard the Secret Place by not turning my blog into a vehicle of full self-disclosure. Proper steeping and formation in Orthodoxy requires learning and practicing wise silence.

So bottom-line, I’m very content with where I am right now. I’m not fretting about my indecision. Nor am I in any hurry to make a decision, because I’m in this for life. Not just life now, but life forever. Seven months down and eternity to go. With that in mind, I’m going to relax and soak in the warmth.