Preparations for a Pearl

It's been a year since I last wrote. As I read the Church Fathers and the Scriptures in a clearer light I feel like I don't have anything to say, except to say: read them for yourselves and be changed. But, indulge me a few words. Since that time, the liturgical year of the Church has come full circle. It is a wonderful cycle. It is a wonderful rhythm. Great and Holy Lent is set to begin in another week. We've come through this last three weeks of preparation for it. Each year at this time I arrive with a greater sense of what it all means, and with a greater sense of anticipation as to what will be accomplished between now and that Paschal Sunday when Christ is Risen.

For some of us, an annual cycle seems like a long time to keep in perspective. In it's perfection, Holy Orthodoxy has taken care of this. There are weekly cycles, and daily cycles of life that are designed to keep us ever mindful of who we are, who we should be, and Who Is. They all work together to provide the fertile soil that allows us to grow ever more in the image and likeness of God.

Great and Holy Lent is a time of special polishing of that icon of God within us all. To the degree that we yield to the buffing of our souls we become ever more prepared to arrive to our eternal destination.

St. Isaac the Syrian describes this process another way:

"A swimmer dives naked into the sea until he finds a pearl, and a wise monk, stripped of everything, journeys though life until he finds in himself the Pearl, Jesus Christ; and when he finds Him, he does not seek to acquire anything else besides HIm.

May we all, in this special time of the year, become stripped of everything that hinders our finding of this Pearl of great price.

The Icon

I am very thankful to have a priest who is a monk and who is a master iconographer. Because of this I have been exposed to icons that are really icons, not pictures that are presented as icons. With my family, I have the opportunity to worship in a place that is filled with living icons. I've even had the opportunity to put my hand and heart to the task of icon writing. In the last couple of days I've had the opportunity to view in incredible collection in Houston at the Menil Collection. Not all of the icons in their collection are necessarily breath taking, but most all of them have something to say to anyone who would take the time to listen to them. There were some that seemed as if they were ready to raise up and speak. These icons will never leave my consciousness, and they will never cease to speak.

This kind of "talk" might be confusing or disturbing to some. But, this is part of the world of Orthodoxy. Man was made in the Icon of God. The Word became flesh. Because the Word became flesh He can be portrayed in the icon. Those who share His Essence can be portrayed in the icon. The icons, such as some of the ones that I saw today, can speak to us, and can encourage us to polish up and clean off the Image of God within us all.

Not a Spectator Sport

It is unfortunate that some people incorrectly view a church service as a spectator sport. It is even more unfortunate when this attitude is expressed or acted out in an Orthodox Divine Liturgy. But, when people come in late and leave early they are acting like the only thing important is to show up and receive the Body and Blood of Christ from the priest. Sadly, I have even heard a priest speak of the congregation as the "audience". These attitudes betray a fundamental misunderstanding of who we all are, and what we are doing. If we were just spectators in the Divine Liturgy it would mean that a priest could celebrate the Divine Liturgy by himself. Canonically, this is not allowed, and for good reason. There is a priest at the altar who is of that select number who has been graced to be an icon of Christ and to be a celebrant of the mysteries, but the church teaches that all Orthodox Christians are part of that greater priesthood of believers. When the priest opens the service with, "Blessed is the Kingdom of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit…" the congregation responds with an "Amen". This response is an affirmation and a ratification of what the priest is saying. St. Paul speaks of this "Amen" in I Corinthians. St. Jerome writes that the voice of the people shouting "Amen" was so loud that it sounded like an earthquake.

As Fr. Emmanuel Hatzidakis has said, "Through the "Amen" we are taught that the priest is not by himself. He does not bless the Holy Trinity in his own name alone, but in the name of all the people of God gathered in worship."

What follows is the Litany of Peace. Interestingly, ten of the eleven petitions are addressed to the congregation and not to God. The priest or deacon makes the horizontal entreaty to the congregation. It is the congregation who wings these prayers vertically toward God by saying "Lord, have mercy." They aren't complete prayers without the congregation doing their part. And, throughout this service and most of the other services of the church, there is a necessity for the congregation to do their part. When the deacon or priest says, "Let us all say with all our soul and with all our mind…", or "Let us the faithful, again and again, in peace pray to the Lord" he is emphasizing the importance of full involvement with the service: full involvement of the priests and deacons, and full involvement of the congregation.

So, it is important for the congregation to physically be there for the entire service. And, once present, it is important that all in attendance (whether in the nave, narthex, or at the altar) be tuned heavenward.

Writing an Icon

This past week I wrote my first icon. It was something that I never expected to do, but thanks to my priest, master iconographer Fr. Mefodii , and the Prosopon School I was given the opportunity. I have not held a paint brush (except to paint a wall) since elementary art class, so this was a daunting task, to say the least. But, life is a daunting task, and writing an icon on a gesso surface is very much like the self icon that we all are writing each day of this life. For six days I got up with a little fear and trepidation about just what new challenges would face me. During the course of the day I took those challenges: outlining the image on the board, etching the image into the gesso surface without digging in too deeply, figuring out which brush to use, learning the techniques of floating, outlining, and highlighting. Some things I could do pretty well. Some things I couldn't seem to do right at all. Patience was a virtue, and a positive outlook did help. Prayer throughout was the key component. Writing the icon is not an art exercise, it is a spiritual discipline. It is being obedient to the teacher. It is getting out of the way and just being an instrument for the work. It is an act of worship. At the end of the day I breathed a sigh of relief that I had gotten through another day, that I had learned, that I had been humbled, and that I had been forgiven at each step of the way. Amazingly, the icon did take on a life of it's own. Fr. Mefodii says that we are co-creating with God as we write the icon. I believe him. I saw it happening. And, we don't do it alone. Our little new community of icon writers helped each other, just as we are supposed to do in life.

There is much about the theology of the icon that I didn't know. The pure white gesso surface represents the light of God. The clay that is attached and burnished into the surface (and spread around the outside of the board) below the gold leaf gilding represents our humanity which (God willing) is transformed into divinity. Attaching the gold by breathing on the clay is like God breathing life into us. An icon is all about light: the light of the Triune God, the light that is reflected out of, and upon the image (saint or angel) on the icon. All of the iconic images are depicted with two small tears on account of us. There is a horizontal element (life) as well as a vertical element (light). The way we write the icon, and the aspects of the process that we either are attracted to, or not, are reflective of our spiritual state. It is a self examining process as much as it is a process of God examining us. It is a time for reflection, repentance, and hope.

The icon that most of us wrote was that of our guardian angel, the protector and guide that each of us is given at baptism. The angel is shown holding our little soul in a protective stance. What a beautiful picture. What a beautiful thought, that God would supply us with an angel to be with us through our spiritual journey, and to be there to usher us onward once we shuffle off this mortal coil.

Our group of a dozen or so was made up of many different types of people: male and female, older and younger, Orthodox, Catholic, Methodist, monastics, liberals, conservatives, artsy, and not so artsy. The icon is what brought all of us there last week. Fr. Mefodii says that he believes the icon is what will eventually reunite the Church. I think he is right. Our little microcosm was just one little ripple in the wave in icon interest that has spilled out of Orthodoxy to attract people from all faiths. Everyone had their own reasons for being there last week. God had His own reasons that might not be quite the same as ours. As we sat around and talked during meals and breaks some of those reasons became apparent.

I made some new friends last week. I came to appreciate many more things about my priest. I learned some things about myself. And, my guardian angel was watching over me as I wrote his icon, and continued work upon my own.

The Doors!

"Guard the doors!" If you have attended an Orthodox Divine Liturgy you have heard these words. It is spoken at a time when, historically, the non-Orthodox, including catechumens, were excused from the nave of the church and the doors were shut and guarded. It kept the uninitiated from learning the mysteries of the church so that a) they would not misuse them and hinder their own spiritual growth or b) they could not be abused or defiled.

For many of us, guarding the doors, has become more of a symbolic expression, but there was a time when it was a very pragmatic one. Standing in Hagia Sophia I was reminded anew of this expression. The massive doors of that church were swung shut many times over the years, both to guard the faith and the faithful.

This protective understanding is expressed in a larger sense in the New Testament. In his Second Letter to Timothy, St. Paul wrote: "Take as a model of sound teaching what you have heard me say, in faith and love in Christ Jesus. Guard the rich deposit of faith with the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us". He goes on to say to Timothy, "You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and what you have heard from me before many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also".

I am glad to report that this sense of guarding the faith is alive and well in Palestine. To have a church, or a monastery, or a holy site, is to have a place that must be walled, gated, or at least watched. Beyond the obvious dangers, there is the need to protect these places from the tourist. I am amazed to stand in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre during a Divine Liturgy and see tourists ambling in, dressed immodestly, snapping pictures and talking, oblivious to what is going on. (Imagine how that would go over in your place of worship!) Not all people are allowed to visit all sites. To visit a site does not mean that you will be given free access to all the spiritual treasures that are contained therein. If one is known, or if one acts appropriately and/or piously one is allowed greater access.

This concept is probably troublesome to most people in my country. We are happy to throw the doors open. Discrimination has become a bad word. Sometimes the swine do trample the pearls. We, especially in the church, would be wise to learn from the lessons of history, and to emulate the traditional stance of the Orthodox Church in matters of faith and practice. Guard the doors!

A Unique Monk in the West Bank

Fr. A. is a monk who lives in one of the Palestinian Authority areas of the Holy Land. I am very thankful that I was able to meet him last week, and to be inspired by him to try to live a less pretentious, more real, and more practical spiritual life. Here is a man who is modeling the kind of life that we should all live. I will share something of that visit, but I will neglect many details in order not to draw undue attention to a man who already attracts more attention than he needs.

Our group had only planned to stop by his compound to find out about a certain monastery. After we were given entry through his huge metal gate, and exchanged greetings, he directed us to a place where we could enjoy a Judean sunset, and where we had a nice visit with some Orthodox Palestinian women out playing with their children. We had been invited back by Fr. A. for some liquid refreshment, but when we arrived back he suggested that we have dinner with him.

Hospitality is impressed upon me any time that I am around monastics, and this time was no exception. Fr. A. supplied us with a table full of food, most of which was from his own efforts. He had inherited the task of overseeing an olive grove that had been used by monastics for hundreds of years. He had also inherited a bombed out stone house and a neighborhood intent upon undoing all the good that he was trying to do. A few years ago there had been a request for someone to take on this job, and after four days and no other volunteers from his monastery, Fr. A. had taken the assignment. I don't think he has had any regrets.

We were very impressed by what this man has been able to accomplish in just a few years: rebuilding his house, walling in his compound, maintaining his olive trees, using natural methods to produce his abundant inventory of livestock and other farm animals and a garden. We ate his olive oil and bread, and meat from his farm. He shared other things with us that I know were luxuries for him. In other words, he was generous beyond words. We sat around his table for a long time, soaking up the hospitality, and encouraging one another. Before we left the table, he asked me for the names of my family so that he could pray for us.

His walls are not ornamental walls. He has to keep out people who are intent upon destroying his work, stealing his olives, poisoning or killing his livestock, and doing bodily harm to him. He has to be defensive at all times, and sleeps with a prayer rope and one eye open. He does good for the very people who are intent on killing him, and prays for them. Yet, he maintains a sense of humor and keeps a twinkle in his eye. I was astounded by the improvements that he has made in that place, and at the amount of daily work that is required just to maintain it. I asked him how he was able to pray as he should and yet accomplish all of the work. He conceded that there were days that he had to do more work than prayer, but that he would then make up the lost prayers on other days.

At some point in the evening I asked him if I could have his address so that I might send him something. He smiled and said that he "didn't have an address". When I pushed him a little on it he anticipated my thoughts and told me that I didn't need to think about sending him support, that he had people who were helping him. With a smile on his face and that twinkle in his eye he said, "all I need is your love, and your prayers".

Fr. A., you have both.

K-PAX

I watched a great little movie last night. Kevin Spacey plays a character calling himself "prot" who claims to be from the planet K-PAX. He is committed to a psychiatric hospital in NYC and the Jeff Bridges character works to cure him. I was reminded of a few things while watching this movie:

1) we are all flawed

2) we are called to see the image of God in all people

3) we are called to keep our eyes open to the suffering and needs around us

4) we are called to see and help those on the margins of our society

4) we should do for others even when they can't do for us

5) we are integrated and a part of all of God's creation

5) never give up hope

6) never give up giving hope

Enough said…..