Orthodoxy and Simplicity

Anyone who knows me well or has read through the pages of this blog know that I have long struggled with the desire for a slower, simpler life.  There is something about our culture’s desire to do everything at top speed that seems to grate against my inner most being. Perhaps this dissonance comes from my own need to achieve.   I try to be all things to all people, often at the expense of my own needs and desires.  But one can only run about frantically trying to make everyone happy for so long before the hectic pace of life takes its toll.

In the light of the crazy existence I call my life, I find myself drawn to simplicity.  I find myself, at times, standing alone in a quiet dark room, or turning off the radio as I make a late-night journey home.  For it is only after the distractions of modern life have disappeared that I can truly breathe.  The chaos around me has died away and I am left with all that really matters.

It is in this solitude that I feel completely at home, surrounded by the Father’s loving arms.  It is in this silence that I hear the message of love and unconditional acceptance I work so hard to earn.

I have found this same sense of quiet serenity in the context of liturgical worship.  There is something incredibly soothing in the familiar chants and motions of Orthodox worship, particularly  in Divine Liturgy.  In my darkest hours, I would make a point to go to liturgy or vespers because I knew it was here I would fin rest.  There is something sublimely soothing to walk from my frantic life into a dark room with the subtle scent of incense.  Listening to the slow, melodic chants of Orthodox prayers, I quite literally felt a sigh of relief.  Once again, I would  breathe deep and bask in the serenity of the moment.

I am drawn to Orthodoxy because essentially, it is a very simple faith.  In a day and age where everything around me is constantly changing, Orthodoxy remains constant.  It is a faith that has withstood the test of time, not constantly changing in order to suit the whims of an ever changing culture.  While the problems may have changed over the years, the solution has not.  Christ is there, sitting on the throne of grace, calling out to humanity:

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

on the other side

This evening I went to vespers as has become my custom over the past year or so.  Tonight we prayed an Akathist to Christ, light to those in darkness.  It was an interesting reminder, to be honest.  I remember praying this Akathist for the first time last year about this time.  I was in the midst of depression–looking back on it I can see more clearly how bad it really was, but I knew even then that it wasn’t simply a period of feeling “down” or “blue”…life was dark.  Even on the brightest, most gorgeous fall days, I wandered through life as if it were the middle of a cold and cloudy night.  That night, as I chanted, prayed, and listened to the words of this beautiful prayer, my heart was warmed.  I remember gazing on the icons of Christ and seeing love shining forth from his eyes.  Love and compassion.  Every section, every sentence, every word seemed to resonate deep within me…for I was one of those in darkness.  And I knew it.

This year, I approached with a different vantage point.  Tonight, I approached with people other than myself heavy on my heart.  Chemical imbalance currently in check, and my job suddenly a lot less stressful, I approached as one who currently rests in light, not darkness.  I remembered my first experience, filling my heart with even more light to see how far I have come.

And yet, I was reminded of how quickly things can change.  How although I may not be in the midst of the darkness of last year, I am surrounded by those who struggle; those who need my prayers and encouragement.

Lord, Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on those in darkness.

reflections: heaven, hell, and the need for Christ

Tonight we prayed a memorial service for those killed in the 9/11 tragedies.  Afterwards, Fr. J gave a talk on the Orthodox understanding of death & dying.  Once again, we touched on the “theological opinion” of heaven & hell:  God being all in all, ever present.  His presence running from him like rivers of fire.  To his right are those who have lived their lives in anticipation of living with Him, rejoicing in his presence.  To his left those who have spent their lives running from Him, in agony.  Same presence, same fire, vastly different experiences.  I had this thought last week, and was reminded of it.  If this is true (granted, no one has ever said this is a dogma or a basic tenent of any faith) then…how is Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection necessary?

I’ve grown up w/ the understanding that Christ died so that I could say a prayer and be forgiven, and then go to heaven.  Everything makes sense.  Hell is, in that understanding, the absence of God–not the presence of God.  It is easy to see a necessity for Christ as a road by which we must travel if we are to end up in God’s presence–for His presence is in a very limited area.  However, that very idea seems dissonant with the understanding of a God who is everywhere…

The “river” understanding of heaven/hell makes much more sense to me.  However, it raises certain fundamental question that I must now answer.  The first of which is:  Why was the Cross necessary, then, if it were not to pave a road to God’s presence.  In this understanding, it’s all our preparation.  Theoretically, then, would it not be possible to belong to another faith–bhudist, muslim, agnostic, but to live in such a way as to prepare oneself for God’s presence with a similar, if not identical manner, with one who has followed Christianity?

…yes, I know, “Jesus is the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father, except through Him.”  …but…how?

…the rest of my thoughts are scattered.  But within them are ideas of Christ’s work as a redemption of mankind–making it possible for all men to draw near to God, whether or not he understands it is through Christ… but maybe I’m off.

I have a lot to process.  A lot of thinking, and praying…attempting to verbalize more for my sake than for anyone else.  Right now, I’ve got several seemingly unrelated trains of thought swirling around my head at alarmingly rapid rates–combining in ways that would only make sense to me.  Apparently, God is the great multitasker…

In my attempt to verbalize, I’ll try to focus on just one topic tonight:  Orthodoxy (yes…still).

I’ve not really taken the time to think & write about my continual journey in solidifying my theology.  Fr. J gave an explanation a month or so ago about the Theotokos (Christ-bearer, aka Mary).  The discussion clarified quite a bit for me.  It’s good to listen to a dialogue about the doctrines & beliefs about this incredibly important, yet misunderstood person.  Perhaps Mary herself isn’t misunderstood–just the practices and beliefs surrounding the Orthodox & Catholic fascination and reverence for her.  Slowly, I’m processing it all–putting away the protestant objections and seeking to understand the truth behind the hymns, icons, and overall reverence.  Trying to see her (and other saints) in the light that these faith groups see her, instead of the “They’re worshiping idols” light many protestants usually resort to.

Yesterday, I decided to listen to Les Miserables on my drive home.  I was struck by the Epilogue, particularly this part:

Fantine (from heaven):  Come with me, where chains will never bind you.  All your grief, at last, at last, behind you. Lord in heaven, look down on him in mercy.

Valjean: Forgive me all my trespasses and take me to Your glory.

Fantine & Cosette: Take my hand, I’ll lead you to salvation.  Take my love, for love is everlasting.  And remember, the truth that once was spoken:  To love another person is to see the face of God.

Here it is again

That feeling in the pit of my stomach…that burning just below my heart.  That forboading that often comes before an event that will change everything for me.  …Or the feeling when my spirit is overwhelmed by desire.  It could be either…it could be both.

I have lunch w/ Fr. J tomorrow.  No agendas…or so we say.    Seriously, I’m looking forward to it.  I’ve been mulling in my head the things I will say, the questions I have…the problems that must be dealt with.  Honestly, words don’t even appear.  I see the ideas in pictures, in feelings, in abstractions that are so…real that they are beyond verbalization.  As with many who take the time to sit and talk about the stuff that matters…I have a feeling he will walk away with a slightly different perception of who I am than when he walked in.  (unless, of course, he reads this…in which case, I have nothing new to say.)

I say this not out of some sort of smug “ha…so you think you know me?  Well, let me just show you.”  I say it more out of a self-realization…I do not easily open myself to people.  I will not easily open the door to my soul to anyone.  They must first try the handle.  They will find it unlocked, more often than not.  But it’s an act many simply will not risk.  Which is why I keep it this way.

But this feeling has been building since before I even remembered lunch.  So perhaps it goes deeper than a conversation over yummy bread and decent coffee.  Perhaps it is simply a continuation of the things I’ve been thinking over the past few days.  That feeling I often get when I am discovering a new passion, a new part of me, or a new aspect of my faith–a new conviction, calling, whatever it is you want to call it.  Or…when I am simply grieved because of the differences between what I see as ideal and what is reality in this world.

I find myself continually surrounded by the world…the hurt, the pain…  And the love of Christ that longs to fill all things.  Today, after finishing one of my videos (well…I’m 98% finished), I took a much needed “mental health day.”  I read, I turned on my “bah” play list (one step more thought provoking than “mellow”, for those interested in the naming of my playlists).  And I sit here, just being.  It’s not often I get to do it.  Just to sit, and think.  To not be worrying about anything.  To let go of all I cling to through the course of the day, week, month… And to simply bask in the love of my Father.  Through the course of my readings (re-reading “The Orthodox Way”), I stumbled across some fantastic quotes:

“Modern man has for the most part lost touch with the truest and highest aspect of himself; and the result of this inward alienation can be seen all too plainly in his restlessness, his lack of identity and his loss of hope.”  –Kallistos Ware

“This is purity of heart: when you see the sinful or the sick, to feel compassion for them and be tenderhearted towards them.” –St Marcarius

“The greatest of all lessons is to know oneself; for if someone knows himself, he will know God; and if he knows God, he will become like God.”  –St Clement of Alexandria

“The paradox of suffering and evil is resolved in the experience of compassion and love.” –Nicolas Berdyaev

And with those, my heart cries out, “Abba, Father.  Grant me love.  Let me be an instrument of your mercy.  Let me not become preoccupied with my own agenda, or my own plans, but let me see Your plans, and to be able to follow in Your footsteps…The steps that lead you to the tables of tax collectors and sinners and those that lead you into the temple to teach…both within the Church and beyond its walls.  Show me your ways.  Guide me and teach me.”

Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.