St. John Climacus and St. Mary of Egypt

As we approach the last week of Lent I am thinking about this past Sunday, and the one upcoming. Last Sunday was the day of St. John Climacus. His treatise, "The Ladder of Divine Ascent" points us to the need for discipline, ascesis, in our lives. I remember vividly being at Voronet Monastery in Bucovina, Romania and seeing their rendition of his ladder

on the wall of the chapel. I wasn't Orthodox at the time, but I was struck by the message: we can fall at any time, no matter where we are on the spiritual path, no matter how much we know about God, no matter how well we know God, no matter what others think of us. St. John Climacus cautions us to be systematic in our spiritual walk, and not to take anything for granted.

This upcoming week, this last Sunday of Lent is that of St. Mary of Egypt . Her story

is absolutely incredible and I would commend you to look it up and read it for yourself. She was the epitome of a sinner: a prostitute who planned to seduce pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land. Her conversion and subsequent life is one of the greatest examples of crucifying the flesh, and living for God. As Fr. Lev Gillett has said,

"She is a symbol of conversion, of contrition, and of austerity. On this last Sunday of Lent , she expresses the last and most urgent call that the Church addresses to us before the sacred days of the Passion and the Resurrection."

We might think that Mary of Egypt was so bad that she was not even on the ladder to heaven. We might be quick to compare ourselves to her. But, in the comparing we have already placed ourselves well below her on the ladder. Her message to us is that no matter how sinful we are, no matter how fleshly we are, no matter what we have done, there is always hope. And, there is always the opportunity to do something ourselves about our behavior. As the Forerunner said, "repent". I have much to repent of each day. Lord willing, I will have less to repent of tomorrow than I have today. As Abba Dorotheos has said, don't let our passions become habits. Let us root out our habits before they grow too large. St. John Climacus points the way. St. Mary of Egypt points the way. In these last days of Lent, may all of us redouble our efforts that we might find more of God's grace and mercy in the days to come.

Sergeant York

"Sergeant York" is one of those old films that I enjoy revisiting from time to time. Part of the attraction has to do with the setting. It is very much like that part of western North Carolina that some of my family came from. It is a movie with values, morals, and struggles. And, it is a movie that is loosely based on the real life experiences of Alvin York, the most decorated American soldier of World War I. What has this to do with Orthodoxy? The people in the movie all attend the same little protestant church. There is one religious authority in town: the preacher who also runs the general store. In the movie, a traveling salesman stops in at the store and asks someone, "the roads are so bad, how did you all get into this valley". He was told, "we were born here". It got me thinking about all of those people who never ever have a chance to visit an Orthodox Church. I guess it's like the old "what about the heathen in Africa" question. I guess the answer is that God is merciful and He loves mankind, and it's not up to us to worry about it.

More importantly, for the non-Orthodox, what about your brushes with Orthodoxy? I can remember mine. The first was as an undergrad. I had to read a couple of books about Orthodoxy in a religious survey course. Of course, they were dry, historical, and after all, I already had the right faith. Then there was the Greek Orthodox Church that sat directly across the street from Dallas Theological Seminary as well as my apartment when I was student there in 1979. Of course, I never went in since there wasn't any point. I thought the priest looked a little strange as he came and went----not like any Protestant preachers that I knew. But, they did have that bazaar once a year and the food was good. At some point after that I remember reading the Church Fathers. I tossed them because what they said didn't correspond with what I knew to be true. The next time was in 1997 when I went to Romania to build Baptist Churches. I remember a high school age girl puzzling over why we were there. "We are already Christian, you know!" I didn't get her response at the time. I did appreciate the spirituality of the Baptist Romanians. Now, I understand that it was the spirituality that they had learned as they were raised by Orthodox families in that wonderful Orthodox country. In the next five years I made many trips to Romania, and had the opportunity to visit Orthodox Churches and monasteries. I was puzzled by all of the acts of devotion that I saw as people entered churches. I didn't understand why there were bodies under glass in plain view, and why people lit candles, and kissed the icons on the walls. I was moved to tears at the spirit of a young Romanian monk in northern Romania. He knew no English, but he spoke to me in his manner, and in his peacefulness. I was amazed as a bell rang and all of the doors around the walls of the monastery opened up and all of these men in black, some old, some young, some stooped, and some spritely came out for the evening meal. I didn't understand why they were so serious about their faith, and why they were working so hard. After all, we are saved by faith, aren't we?

Someone has said, "we are responsible for the light we are given". I have read the Church Fathers talk about the greater accountability that come with greater spiritual knowledge and experience. Our Master spoke in a parable about making the best use of what we are given. Once I was open to the facts of faith and history, I had no choice but to become Orthodox. I would like to think that I was finally responsive to the light that had been given me.

My personal conviction is that the toughness of God's means of bringing us to faith corresponds equally to the hardness of our skulls and hearts. I know what it took to bring me to faith. It took the Lord Himself appearing on the road to bring St. Paul to faith. It took three nights enveloped in gastric juices to bring the prophet Jonah to obedience. In "Sergeant York" it took a lightening bolt that knocked the shoes off the mule he was riding and melted his shotgun to sober him up. If there had been an Orthodox Church in his valley he would have ended up there.

I have a long way to go, as I am a very imperfect creature. But, I do take comfort in all of the spiritual food that the Orthodox Church provides for me. At this time of the year it comes in the form of Lenten discipline. All during the year it is being able to receive the very Body and Blood of Christ at each Divine Liturgy. The words that we sing after we receive Holy Communion are not lost on me: "We have seen the true light, we have received the heavenly Spirit, we have found the truth faith, we adore the undivided Holy Trinity, Who has saved us!"

May God be merciful to all of us. Let us not ignore the light that we are given each day.