The Lord of the Dance

I like Atlas Shrugged, but I don't know anything about this blog or the blogger. I appreciate the logic of the argument very, very much. This is the reason why, for right now, though maybe not for all time, presenting the Real-Life-position will help our side in the abortion-war. I don't think our faction will win the argument over Roe vs. Wade (alas, American and all of society is in a downward looped-y-loop), but the salvation of a single life is and should be counted as a Win in the end.

And it is.

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the opposite of lying

If you're like most people, then you probably think the opposite of lying is truthfulness.

If I say "yes" when I know the truth is "no," then I am lying. But if a liar says "yes" when the answer is "yes," it doesn't mean he is not a liar. Lying, you see, is not about being untruthful -- it is about controlling the information a person receives, distorting reality, so that they act on flawed facts. It is about making another person your own means to an end. This is the reason fraud ranks right up there with force as an enemy of reason. And it is why we should expect a liar to say "yes" when it's the answer that suits him best. He's not concerned with being untruthful; he's concerned with controlling your actions by altering the information you use to make decisions.

Because of this, I am not satisfied calling mere truthfulness the opposite of lying. The opposite of lying, to me, is being informative.

Yesterday I saw this: States passing bills requiring ultrasounds prior to abortions. This is actually brilliant, not because of how it will influence women's decisions, but because of how it tests the liberal position on abortion.

A fetus, women are told, is just tissue. If you believe that is a lie, you might think the remedy is to deny it. This law is different -- it says: "See for yourself." And liberalism has a problem with this, not because it refutes their "tissue" argument, but because it truly allows a woman to make an informed choice. And here you thought they were protecting a woman's right to choose. Are you so sure?

Similarly, abortion activists are suing states over specialty license plates with slogans like "Choose Life." Tell me, if you wanted to make abortion "safe, legal and rare," do you think choosing life more would make abortion rarer? I do.

The truth is that we've been told that one side is about life, while the other side is about choice. When I see the life side clobbering the choice side by espousing choice, it puts the choice side in a very uncomfortable position of having to face what it is they really seek. And that's a lot like looking into a baby's face and calling it tissue.

So what does liberalism really seek, with regard to abortion? Well, it seeks what it always wants: a way to escape the consequences of irresponsible action by shifting some cost (in this case a very brutal and violent one) -- onto an innocent, but politically unrepresented, minority. And it relies on misrepresentations like "it's just tissue," to garner support from people who simply don't know better. Liberalism relies on lying.

Consider the source.

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and the babies.

A Reason to Hope

Hmm.

This was predicted a few years ago.

Throwing Off the Liberal Burqa

"LIBERAL TALIBAN ISSUES FATWA AGAINST MISS CALIFORNIA"
May 13, 2009
ANN COULTER

Not even Dick Cheney can incite the blood-curdling rage of liberals at the sight of a sexy Evangelical Christian. Paula Jones, Katherine Harris, Michele Bachmann, Sarah Palin and, most recently, Miss California, Carrie Prejean, have all come under a frenzy of attacks from liberals.

Christians are supposed to be fat, balding sweaty little men with bad complexions. It's liberals who are supposed to be the sexy ones. (I know that from watching "The West Wing" and all movies starring Julia Roberts.)

But sadly for liberals, in real life, the fat, balding sweaty little guy with the bad complexion is Perez Hilton and the smoking-hot babe is Carrie Prejean.

This apparent contradiction incites violent anger in liberals, triggering their famous "fight or flight" response. So liberal masturbators are, once again, launching furious attacks on a beautiful Christian in a fit of pique similar to the one directed at Joan of Arc.

First, the Miss USA contest held a press conference to announce that Prejean had breast implants. Take a Christian position in public and Satan's handmaidens will turn all your secrets into front-page news.

Next, a photographer released a single cheesecake photo of Prejean. This prompted liberal reporters who have never met a Christian to proclaim that Christians were outraged by the photo. Liberals believe abortion is a sacrament, but smoking, wearing short skirts and modeling lingerie are mortal sins. (And if wearing women's underwear is a basis for being disqualified from the pageant, that's the end of Perez Hilton's judging career.)

Then on Monday some genuine "semi-nude" photos were released. These were not what we'd call appropriate for a Christian. In a curiously similar attack, the left's final attempt to destroy Paula Jones was to lure her into appearing naked in Penthouse magazine. Oh well.

Christians aren't people who believe they are without sin; they're people who know they're sinners and are awestruck by God's grace in sending his only Son to take the punishment they deserve.

This is in contradistinction to liberals, all of whom believe they're on a fast track to heaven on the basis of being "basically good" people -- and also believe that anyone who disagrees with that theological view is evil.

Finally (so far, anyway), reporters gleefully released the divorce records of Prejean's parents. Because when you want the truth, what is more reliable than angry accusations traded in the middle of an acrimonious divorce?

Liberals used the divorce papers to argue that Prejean had some deep-seated psychological disturbance causing her to oppose gay marriage. Symptoms of this debilitating illness include a belief in some sort of "god" and a reverence for the Bible.

It's not as if Prejean's special talent in the Miss USA contest was to perform an opposite-sex marriage. (Or, as the president and I call it, "marriage.") She didn't even volunteer her "controversial" views on marriage. Rather, she was asked for her opinion on gay marriage and gave it -- in an answer wrapped in so many layers of sugar it took 10 minutes to get to the point.

"Well, I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one way or the other. We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. You know what, in my country, in my family, I do believe that marriage should be between a man and a woman, no offense to anybody out there. But that's how I was raised, and I believe that it should be between a man and a woman."

What a vicious hate-monger! Any second there I was expecting her to bust out a "by golly!" or an "oh my gosh!" Angry gay-marriage supporters should be happy they didn't get my version of that answer. It contains some terms you won't find in your Bible.

Liberals wouldn't attack James Dobson with the amount of bile they've directed at a 21-year-old beauty contestant. It's not just Christianity -- it's women liberals hate.

From Jean-Paul Sartre, Pablo Picasso and Bertrand Russell, who treated women -- mostly their mistresses -- like dogs, to Teddy Kennedy and Bill Clinton in our own day, liberals are ferocious misogynists. They share Muslims' opinion of women, differing only to the extent that liberals also support a women's right to have an abortion and to perform lap dances.

You'd be better off in a real burqa than under the authority of a liberal American male.

I'm not sure we needed a psychological profile of Prejean to figure out why she holds the same position on gay marriage as: the president, the vice president, the secretary of state, Bill Clinton, John Kerry, John Edwards and his mistress, and the vast majority of the American people.

But what is crying out for an explanation is why every bubble-head TV news anchorette from a nice, churchgoing red state ends up adopting the political views of Karl Marx.

From Katie Couric on CBS to Norah O'Donnell on MSNBC, the whole stable of TV anchorettes weirdly have the exact same politics as their liberal masters. It's the ideological burqa women are required to wear to work in the mainstream media. As with a conventional burqa, it enforces conformity and severely restricts the vision.

The only way to protect yourself is to do the liberal male's bidding, as the bubble-head anchorettes do, or stand on the rock of Christianity.

Now, another beautiful Christian has thrown off the liberal burqa, thereby inciting mass hysteria throughout the liberal establishment. Prejean doesn't care. She is blazing across the sky, as impotent nose-pickers jockey for a piece of her reflected light by hurling insults at her.

Slow, Steady and One Hour Late

We just returned from visiting Fr Mark's folks in their new retirement community. They keep trying to get me to tell my parents about it, but I refuse. In fact, they say to tell my folks to visit and I say thanks, but I'm not gonna. The lack of lawn maintenance alone would make my dad want to move there. And the cards! Lord have mercy, if my mom only knew she'd be gone in a shake.

So I'm not going to mention a word of the lovely new amenity center with two pools, and the sweet ponds and fountains all over the place. I need to keep my parents near me.

And yes, I am selfish.

This is a re-post from about a year & a half ago:

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Mark & I returned this evening after checking out the new retirement community Mark’s dad & step-mother are moving to in June. It is near Griffin Georgia, which is south of Atlanta. They were looking at the same type of community in Charlotte, which is closer to us, but decided on the same house in a different location because it’s much less expensive. As a result, Marilyn can retire a year earlier, and they’ll be in the same financial circumstances as they would if they had waited another year and moved to Charlotte.

The leaves were changing and the drive was magnificent. We had an hour of extra time to enjoy it because Lou suggested that we take highway 16 (which was a “shorter” route) vs. the Interstate (which would have taken us “out of our way”). While Mark knew all along that he should have taken the Interstate, he decided to do what is father suggested, and to take the highway.

As I said, the drive was beautiful, and we had an extra hour to enjoy it. Not only did the road wind over creeks and rivers, through quaint little towns, past farms and beautiful old southern homes, we also got behind a “wide load” for about 45 minutes. It was very wide and tall, and accompanied by two pick-ups and two state troopers. It was, therefore, impossible to pass.

It was a boat. No, actually, I think it would be technically called--a ship. A ship. It was a mid-sized coast guard craft that had a crane on the back of it.

At first we laughed at it. Ha ha: a Coast Guard ship—boy won’t that be a good excuse for Mark’s dad (already waiting for us at Denny’s)? So we took pictures with the camera phone. As the hours—I mean minutes—wore on, the flashing lights became irritating, and the big black hull of the ship was not a complementary centerpiece to the majestic autumn colors framing it.

Fortunately, as we were driving through one of the little towns, the ship ran aground—or “a-curb” as the case may be. As the captains were negotiating their way out of it, we tore through back streets and around corners to find the highway again. There was no getting back to the Interstate now. Just as we were beginning to feel the freedom of the open road, a mile ahead of us there turned a pickup truck hauling a busted-up car. Its front wheels were propped up and chained inside its bed of the truck and it was going about –hmm—10? 15 miles per hour?

Decorum suggests that I bleep out what happened here.

But we arrived safely and returned home safely, thank God.

New Idea

Sometimes I come up with really good ideas. My most recent one I will share here. It is a game called "I am Thinking of an Animal and it Rhymes With ___"

This is the best game ever. Everyone who plays it loves it.

Shmelafunt!

Biller Dale!

Flamster!

Pluck-nilled Chatamuss.

There are absolutely no frills. If you guess it you get to go next or you can give your turn away to Little Mark who often growls and we all yell "Dinosaur!"

I should sell this idea, but instead I'm giving it away free.

Dear Brethren,

Christ is Risen!

This morning Margaret was burned by hot water that was spilled in her lap. Her burns began to quickly blister and she was in great pain. Margaret was actually transported by ambulance to the Emergency Room of the Children's Hospital of Palmetto Richland in Columbia. In the ambulance she was given morphine for the pain and the initial assessment in the Emergency Room was that the burns were severe. After anointing her with the oil from the lampada of the sepulcher of St John Maximovich and saying the anointing prayers, the surgeon came to see her. At his examination, he determined that the burns were not nearly as bad as first thought (in fact the tiny red blood-spots had completely disappeared) and Margaret was able to be discharged from the hospital in the early afternoon. She has to have a specially dressing on her burns for a couple of weeks as well as take special baths once a day.

I am convinced that St John had some part in alleviating her burns and pain. (And this would not be the first time he has interceded on her behalf.) Nevertheless, please keep her and us in your prayers.

With much love in our risen Lord,

Fr Mark

CHRIST IS RISEN! ХРИСТОС ВОСКРЕСЕ!

People rejoice, all nations listen:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
Dance all ye stars and sing all ye mountains:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

Whisper ye woods and blow all ye winds:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
O seas proclaim and roar all ye beasts:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

Buzz all ye bees and sing all ye birds:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
O little lambs rejoice and be merry:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

Nightengales joyous, lending your song:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
Ring, O ye bells, let everyone hear:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

All angels join us, singing this song:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
Come down ye heavens, draw near the earth:
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

Glory to Thee, God Almighty!
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!
Glory to Thee, God Almighty!
Christ God is risen! Let us rejoice!

Serbian Text:

Ljudi likujte, narodi čujte:
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Zvezde igrajte, gore pevajte,
Hristos voskrese, radost donese!
Šume šumite, vetri brujite,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Mora gudite, zveri ričite,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Pčele se rojte, a ptice pojte
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!

Anđeli stojte, pesmu utrojte,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Nebo se snizi, zemlju uzvisi,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Zvona zvonite, svima javite,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Slava ti Bože, sve ti se može,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Anđeli stojte, pesmu utrojte,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Nebo se snizi, zemlju uzvisi,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Zvona zvonite, svima javite,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!
Slava ti Bože, sve ti se može,
Hristos voskrse, radost donese!

Church Family

This is a re-post from last year. This year I was again able to attend the Lamentations Service of Holy Friday. Again I was in awe of the beauty of the words, as well as way we sang them. I hope it doesn't seem like I am critical or diminutive of other churches when I talk about how much I love mine. We're very small, so it's like talking about how I love my own brother, sister, mother, father, child or grandparent when I talk about my brothers and sisters in Christ at St Elizabeth's. It's not a condemnation of anybody else, just a recognition of how super-awesome my own church family is.

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My husband has been serializing an article in our church bulletin for Orthodox parents on raising children in the Orthodox Church.

It is a thoroughly no-nonsense approach to child-training and the rearing of children to be Orthodox Christians. By "training and rearing" I don't mean the nebulous "moral," "fair to others," and the "doing unto others as you would dooblydoo" found on godless public television and elsewhere. What I am talking about is the raising of children in the Church: being fully mindful of the fasts, head-coverings, standing, sitting, standing, modesty, and how it all involves the submission of the will in an Orthodox context.

On Holy Friday last year, I stood on the "women's side" of the church. As we sang the Lamentations together as a community, I heard only the voices of the women next to me. The melody and the words, as well as my own weariness, brought into perfect clarity the mourning of the myrrh-bearing women as they stood at the tomb of Our Lord. It was a group of sisters, mourning in unison with our saintly sisters, Susanna, Joanna, Mary, Mary, Mary, Martha and Salome.

Something published in the bulletin last week confirmed a notion I have held for a long time. It was this:

But when we go to church, we enter into a bigger community and a larger family. We do not in our churches have family pews, or even stand apart as families, leaving those without families even more alone and isolated. In this context our particular family has less significance, and we adopt all those present as our brothers and sisters, our family, in the Faith. (The Shepherd, Vol. XV, Number 9, p. 17.)

In my early days I would recoil at the words, but recently, "Brothers and Sisters in Christ" has become for me a reality. In Orthodoxy this brotherhood is not a clubbish, sentimental, self-congratulatory exclusivity that looks to the inside. Rather it is a unity that stands together reaching towards one another, towards the outside, and together towards heaven.

C. S. describes it: "though something goes from man to God, yet all, including this something comes from God to man. If he rises, he does so lifted on a wave of the incoming tide of God's love for him. He becomes nothing in that ascension. His love is perfected by becoming, in a sense, nothing. He is less than a mote in that sunbeam, vanishing not from God's sight but from ours and his own, into the nuptual solitude of the Love that Loves Love, and in Love, all things.

Letter 2

Dear A,

I'm glad to be of help. I understand how it is when you get these questions. You know someone doesn't really want to get the whole history of Christianity and the schism and the Orthodox position concerning everything under the sun that makes it distinct from other Christian bodies.

A quick answer I give, if someone asks me how we differ from the Roman Catholics (and the Protestants) is this: Historical Continuity. Even if the person doesn’t have time for a full dissertation, you can give him the basics of Church history, the Schism, and the filioque, which is more than 90% of church-goers know.

The thing about Orthodoxy, in my opinion, that makes it distinctive in modern America, is that we don’t claim to try to recapture or to have recreated a modern version of what we think was First Century Christianity. Nor do we have a guilt complex about our faith statement being “inaccessible” or “outdated” to the young or the modern mind. What Orthodoxy is, is the Church founded by Christ at Pentecost, and led by the Holy Spirit throughout history.

When non-Orthodox make their argument-of-choice against the Virgin Mary, icons, calling no man Father, confession, etc. it’s based upon the mistaken notion that the Church went into limbo after 33 A.D. and these issues were irrelevant to the Early Church.

What we have in Orthodoxy is preeminently Holy Scripture, the Liturgy, the writings of the Church Fathers, and the History of the Church in the lives of its Saints. In the daily readings of the lives of the saints from multiple centuries, we have some being martyred by the iconoclasts, one being boiled in pitch or flayed by a Roman emperor, another being exiled by leaders of a now-debunked heresy, and one or two sometimes reposing peacefully in a quiet village or monastery. Reading these lives makes church history real and imminent, but also personal.

I don’t think it’s necessary (unless you have an aptitude for this kind of thing) to read and to be able to spout off the Orthodox positions on every point of theology a non-Orthodox asks of you. Rather remember and be confident in the fact that the Orthodox Church has continued in unbroken continuity since the Apostles. It is and has been, for lack of a better phrase, alive-and-breathing for almost 2000 years. The best books to read are Bishop Kallistos' The Orthodox Church (for the history), and The Orthodox Way (for theology).

Something you might find easy and helpful is listening to a podcast by Fr John Whiteford on the Protestant perspective of “Sola Scriptura.” It’s an enjoyable and edifying talk on the differences between the Protestant and Orthodox understanding of Scripture. Here’s a link for the Prologue (I can't find a main page where you select the date, but here's one day).

Let me know if this helps.

BTW we had a lovely visit with Bishop George and the monks from Holy Cross in West Virginia. Here's an excellent video of theirs on living the Christian life.

Some pictures of Bp George's visit are posted in the church photo gallery. More will be put up soon.

Much love,

Matushka

Letter 1

With my new resolve to talk more about Orthodoxy on my blog I am going to post a reply I made to a friend of mine in a letter regarding a question she encountered about women in the priesthood, and why Orthodoxy doesn't allow it.

My husband has been too busy preparing for the first bishop's visit we've had in almost six years to proof this, but I wanted to post it anyway. I'm sure I'll hear from him if I'm wrong.

* * *

Dear A.

I could research this point, but I imagine you would rather hear from a reformed feminist than a theologian. If that’s the case, here’s my perspective.

I grew up in the Catholic Church in the 70s when the feminist movement was activating itself inside the church. Even the Catholic parish I attended was inarguably modern. It had a rock band choir, weird modern Christian art, as well as women reading in the services, passing out communion, and also acting as altar girls. The latter role wasn’t allowed in the Roman Church till the 90s, but this parish promoted it in the 70s.

While I was told in my Sunday school to memorize this or that point of theology, I remember learning that the Bible didn’t really mean what it said; miracles were easily explained through science; and the Church lacked an enlightened perspective, sensitive to the needs of people, especially women.

I could go through the history that got me to the point at which I realized the whole movement was more patronizing than empowering, but I won’t.

St John Chrysostom says that the priesthood excludes most men and all women. This is to say that the Church doesn’t cavalierly ordain anyone who feels called to lead, or who has a special charism about their ability to sing, preach, or teach in the Church. There is much more to it—and, as many hagiographies tell us, very little of what the Church wants and needs has to do with a man’s desire to become a priest.

When I chose to become Orthodox, it was to embrace a theology, a worldview, and a state of soul that made me aspire to be worthy of it. I didn’t convert hoping that it would do something to become worthy of making my precious self show up on Sundays.

Seriously, if a woman wants to be a priest, there are plenty of churches that will let her. In fact, there are probably more churches that will let her lead their services than there are not.

With regard to your friend’s point, you answered correctly, I believe. It is about choosing to be a part of a church that requires certain things of you. If you choose to become Orthodox, this is the way things are. If you grow up as an Orthodox Christian, you know this is the way things are. No one is forcing you to stay if you’re ticked off you can’t be a priest.

There are a kazillion points you could make to a feminist. About the veneration of the Theotokos: how she is more prominent than any man other than Christ Himself in the Church. That she “pondered these things in her heart” and didn’t picket to be included among the apostles.

Even among the saints, women saints are venerated equally with men, and perhaps even more so because, being the weaker sex, we aren’t expected to be valiant in battle or courageous under extreme circumstances. When, as numerous women saints and martyrs in the history of the Church have done, we show not only piety and humility in our lives, but courage in the face of adversity and martyrdom, we prove ourselves to be worthy to be called saints and "the pillars of the Church."

Anyway, this is where I am coming from. I’d be happy to continue this conversation if you need clarification. I’m sure Fr Mark would have plenty to add, since he was the one who converted me from feminism. Although, I have to say my conversion wasn’t that difficult, since he was a handsome conservative I knew I wouldn’t be able to flip over to my point of view if I wanted him to marry me.

Let me know how your conversation goes.

All the best,
Matushka

Awed by the Beauty

I found this link to a panoramic view of Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville, NY. I think more churches should have things like this to inspire the laborers at mission-churches like ours.

I think I'm going to put up more links when I find them.

Here's the link to the main page. The Cathedral Entrance and Cathedral Interior are magnificent. The iconography in the Refectory and Baptistry is quite beautiful, as well as that found inside the crypts.

All of Creation Rejoices in Thee

All of creation rejoices in thee,
O Full of Grace!
The assembly of angels and the race of man
O Sanctified Temple and Spiritual Paradise
The Glory of Virgins!
From whom God was incarnate and became a child,
Our God before the ages.
He made thy body into a throne
And thy womb he made more spacious than the heavens!
All of creation rejoices in thee,
O Full of Grace,
Glory to Thee!



This is a 6'x4' icon I painted on rolled canvas for our church. I put this slide show together for a friend of mine who wanted to see the process of icon-painting, and how the image emerges as it is "painted with light." This isn't the traditional egg-tempera/gessoed-panel process. I'm going to stay with acrylics till I retire. I don't trust myself or my kids around the pigments, several of which could kill us if they spilled.

The icon is called the "Virgin of the Sign." It is based upon the prophecy of Isaiah: "Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; behold a virgin shall conceive in the womb, and shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name Emmanuel' (Is.vii,14). The image of the Mother of God with the Child Emmanuel in her bosom is this very Sign announced by the prophet and revealed to the world in its consummation. It is from this that the icon derives its name. The Sign is an image of the Divine Incarnation, of the revelation of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, the manifestation of the Son of God through His human nature received from the mother of God...One can say that as, according to the words of St Basil the Great, "the word of truth...in the economy of the Spirit...is so brief and concise that little means much." (Ouspensky, Leonid. The Meaning of Icons. SVS Press. P.77)

The hymn, "All of Creation Rejoices in Thee," is sung during Lent, and I hummed it to myself as I painted. The song in the background is from a CD given to me without a title, so I don't know who did the music.

I'm also turning off comments.

Of Mountains and Memories

What earthly sweetness remains unmixed with grief? What glory stands immutable on the earth? All things are but feeble shadows, all things are most deluding dreams, yet one moment only, and death shall supplant them all. But in the light of Thy countenance, O Christ, and in the sweetness of Thy beauty, give rest to him whom Thou hast chosen, for as much as Thou lovest mankind.

Yesterday I spent all day driving to, in, and returning from the Atlanta area for the funeral of my dear friend, the priest, Fr Damian. I knew that the service was going to be an emotional one for me, because ever since hearing of his cancer-diagnosis I often cried intermittently, wishing I had the nerve to call him, wishing I had one more chance to see him, and wishing I had said something to him the last time I saw him, to express how grateful I was to be counted among his friends.

We went to a panikhida service at St Mary's in Atlanta, and then to the burial which took place in Resaca at the monastery he founded and spent so many years. Someone mentioned that they didn't realize there was a second cemetery on the hill above the larger, main one. Another person said the monks called it "the Launching Pad" because it was so oddly flat in the monastery's mountainous setting.

It was difficult to feel so sad in a place that had brought me such happiness and joyful memories.

The daffodils were blooming along with miscellaneous bulby plants in various places on the grounds of hardwood forest and English ivy. Azaleas were threatening to blossom, and little blooms of periwinkle were peeking out from underneath the dead autumn leaves. It is in this place I have witnessed some of the most inspiring and humorous stories I have ever heard.

C.S. Lewis, in one of his recorded lectures, quotes somebody (when I listen to it again I'll amend this post), saying "I would rather go to hell with the knights and the ladies, than to heaven with the priests and the monks." If that person knew the joy it was to be with priests, monks, and everyone who lived their lives loving the same Person they do, who spent their lives both succeeding and failing at their love of that One Person, then they might appreciate the conversations, the humor, and, yes, the fun it was to be in their presence.

After the burial we returned to St Mary's for the "Mercy Meal" at which we ate wonderful food, but also talked and celebrated the life of our dear friend. There were stories of his rapier wit, quoting him (but, alas, my letters don't translate well into his Eastern North Carolina, growly drawl): "I'll flay you with a toothpick," "he could talk the ears off a brass billy-goat" or "all that woman needs is a sword, a shield, and a tin bra"; as well as the final stories of my friend: nurses, orderlies, and non-Orthodox in his last hospital both asking for his blessing and kissing his hand; and the multitude of people who met him once and remembered him for years.

I have posted elsewhere of the honor I felt at being given a necklace which, during his first visit to the Holy Land, he placed on the tomb of the Virgin Mary. I have also received many visits from him over the years as he came through town. He often recalled a story after visiting us of our son, Max (age three or four at the time), accidentally drinking from a glass of Nimiroff hot-pepper vodka which looked oddly like apple juice. He would start the story, "Do you remember Max and the..." and then fade off into chuckles, as we joined him in the tale of Max's horrified and pained face, and then his spinning around in the curtains, before taking a really long nap.

I just can't help but think the world has lost someone as irreplaceable as, perhaps, the inventor of the polio vaccine, although my poor biography is only a tiny image of what this man accomplished in his lifetime.

I recognize myself as a product of my age. But Fr Damian was like a modern-day dinosaur: a creature leftover from a lost era, and one that won't likely be repeated ever again. That he was an Orthodox Christian, a priest and a monk, only adds to the curiosity of his character in such a generation as well as a geography.

I just don't know what to think or feel, except perhaps a profound honor to have briefly witnessed the life and the passing of a mountain of a man, the likes of which this world will never see again.

With thy saints give rest, O our God, where sickness and sorrow are no more, neither sighing but life everlating!

Memory Eternal

It is with great sadness that I learned this morning of the death of one of the founders and benefactors of our parish, the Archimandrite Damian Hart, formerly of Ascension Monastery, who reposed in the Lord at 11:13 PM Pacific Time on the Eve of the Feast of the Triumph of Orthodoxy (and our daughter’s name-day whom he baptized). Fr Damian was instrumental in the formation and the direction of the early members of our church, having baptized, catechized, married, confessed, and offered spiritual direction to many of us.

He was a man of nobility and goodness, and a master of the Southern idiom. Maybe in a few years I will try to gather all of his homemade phrases which made conversation with him so enjoyable and memorable.

Of the Monastery he led in Resaca, Georgia, he often said that it will not be completely built until those who founded it lie in its graves. When one of the other founders, Fr John Harwell, reposed in 2001, he restated this point in the eulogy after funeral service, adding glibly: “one more to go.”

May God bless and have mercy upon His good and faithful servant, and grant him life everlasting.

Dear Father, I will miss you.

The Bouncer and the Bobbysoxer

Rose has recently become more social, having found a group of kids she enjoys hanging out with regularly (they call themselves "Team Thundercats"). They're a good set of kids and still have a great deal of innocence in their play and, of course, naivete in their perspective. But, as C.S. Lewis says, a group of friends can be a force for noble behavior, as among soldiers going into battle, or a support for evil behavior, as among the criminal element.

Yesterday, without provocation, she asked me, "Mom, did you have a fake ID when you were in school?"

I asked her what made her ask me this question. She said something about how Papa had said something about having one and she wondered if I had. I said no, but after thinking about it, I remembered that I had one for all of two hours. I was given one by a friend one evening before going out. The ID was of a girl with blonde hair (I have brown), a round face (I have a long face) and blue eyes (I have brown). I pointed out these items out to my friend, and he said that it's usually too dark for the bouncer to see all the details. I naievely agreed and went with my group of friends down to Five Points.

Alas, the bouncer had a flashlight and the jig was up within minutes. The flashlight might not have been an issue if the bouncer hadn't simply also asked my name and address. It was all over at that point: "Sharon? No! Susan Whit-- No! Will--."

And then, within minutes of Rose asking me about having a fake ID, she asked if she could go with her friends to see a friend of theirs play the piano at a local bar. "...They let kids my age in, but they just stamp their hands. We'll be going with A's & G's older brothers so you don't have anything to worry about."

I pointed out this curious coincidence and she protested that the topics were entirely unrelated--not at all connected--I swear.

I then asked her what would possess her to ask me about a fake ID before asking me if she would be allowed to go to a bar, if they weren't connected. She told me that another friend of hers had told her "Of all of the girls I know, you seem like the one who would have a fake ID."

So for the remainder of the day--as I will the rest of her adolescence--I did my best to point out to her that it is not a good thing to be considered "the girl most likely to have a fake ID."

Lord have mercy.

Orthodox Home Economics

I'm re-posting this from March of last year because I still think it's funny.

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We are beginning to think about classes for our next school year. I was talking to Rose today about how Orthodox homeschoolers must have an entirely different approach to their home economics studies than regular folks. It opened up to my mind a thoroughly humorous class description.

SYLLABUS: ORTHODOX HOME ECONOMICS "The Spirit of Fasting"

PRE-REQUISITES: This is class assumes the student is a married male and baptized Orthodox. Very zealous single male and female Orthodox and catechumens will be admitted but only if they participate volubly in international Orthodox List Servers. Orthodox wives and women with children may audit the class, but absolutely no credit will be given for the work.

SYLLABUS:

FIRST WEEK OF LENT:
Learn how to eat absolutely nothing. Then, around Wednesday, learn how to modify the fast according to the Lenten Triodion. Memorize and learn how to piously use the phrase, “Well, according to the Lenten Triodion I can eat _____ today--no, really, look at page ___.”

SECOND WEEK OF LENT:
Acquire the spirit of fasting. Realize that starvation is pretty good for the waistline.

THIRD WEEK OF LENT:
Talk about how St Basil ate sausage on the steps of the cathedral because he wanted to teach the brethren that they should not fast, and yet devour the auditing students. Need to get some sausage to prove it. Eat sausage.

FOURTH WEEK OF LENT:
Shouldn’t have eaten the sausage. Go to confession. Get fake sausage. Discuss whey. Tell auditing students to learn how to make Lenten chocolate chip cookies.

FIFTH WEEK OF LENT:
Decide egg substitute could open up endless possibilities for Week Five and Six. Discuss fish with professor: new calendar or old calendar (same recipes can be used for Annunciation—don’t forget the lemon.) New Calendar should avoid Old Calendar students as there could be the 13-day-fish-resentment-issue. Otherwise refer to fish-counselor.

SIXTH WEEK OF LENT:
Lenten chocolate chip cookies are no better on the waistline than real ones. Tell auditing students to get Oreos. It’s getting close to Pascha. Start thinking about how you’re going to get the auditing students to cook the leg of lamb.

HOLY WEEK:
Reacquire the spirit of fasting. Get discount palms and full-priced fish for Palm Sunday. Tell auditing students to start the Pascha Cheese and go to eighteen different grocery stores to find a leg of lamb that they had during Western Easter, but they don’t have now.

PASCHA:
Get a good, long nap before Paschal services. Before doing so, make sure auditing students have the bratwurst, brownies and basket ready before the service. Make sure leg of lamb is still hot by the end of the service (approximately 2 AM--or later depending on the jurisdictional proclivities of the student--refer to counselor).

Prepare for Orthodox Home Economics 102: "Next Lent: Cookin' the Passions"

Hopes and Dreams

Rose's sweet-16 was Friday and Max's 6th birthday was yesterday. It was a good weekend and worked out well with regards to the beginning of Lent and the beginning of the Fast and church and everything. I kissed him goodnight and caressed his face with my hand. I spoke to him sweetly, "Did you have a good birthday, buddy?"

He looked melancholy. I wondered if he was going to complain that we spent all day in church services. "It's just..." He averted his eyes as if he was afraid to tell me something.

"What is it buddy?" I was worried I might have overlooked something or if my stress about other things going on had ruined his day.

"It's just...I wish..." He looked at me, "I just wish...I was...another species."

I couldn't help but smile, but I didn't want to laugh to make him believe I was mocking his one great wish. I was speechless however, especially when he added, "...like a hamster."

An open last letter

Dearest Father Damian,

Please bless me.

Ever since hearing of your diagnosis I have been praying for you daily. I wish you weren’t so far away, and that we could have one more time to visit together. The setting of every conversation we have ever had, in my memory, feels as if it has been on a front porch in a rocking chair. Indeed it might have been on several occasions.

You have always been very dear to me. I vividly remember the first time I ever talked to you. Fr Mark & I had already come several times to the monastery on pilgrimages and other visits for some time, but I was afraid to talk to you. Apart from vague pleasantries exchanged when we visited with our parish, you and I had never spoken.

What I remember as our first conversation began with a nod you gave me when Fr Mark and I came late into one of the services after driving up from Columbia. I noticed your nod, but assumed it was given to the person behind me. Then you nodded again and I thought you were nodding to a person in front of me. After glancing around to see I was the only person in the general direction you were nodding, I smiled and nodded after your third attempt. I was embarrassed, for good reason.

The next day after liturgy you gave me a necklace with a charm of the Virgin which you told me you had put on Her tomb, when you were there only a few months prior to our visit. You told me, “I couldn’t figure out who I should give this to till now.” Then you went on to explain the necklace and a few tales of your trip. I have treasured the necklace and the memory of it ever since. It hangs in my icon corner and makes me think of you and pray for you every time I see it.

I have often thought of you since you visited with us before relocating out west. The children, especially Rose, Ella & Margaret, talk of you as an old and dear family friend. I am sorry that I haven’t been able to talk to you.

Dear Father, I am confident that the Lord has chosen this place for you to spend your remaining days before you go to meet Him. I hope that you will be comforted in the love and prayers of your spiritual children. You have made a strong and lasting impact on my life, and that of my children. Please be at peace and be at rest.

We love you dear Father.

With love and prayers in our Lord,

Matushka Anne Mancuso

From this day, from this hour, from this very moment...

Once the Elder was invited on board a frigate that had come from St. Petersburg. The captain of the frigate was a man quite learned, highly educated; he had been sent to America by Imperial command to inspect all the colonies. With the captain were some 25 officers, likewise educated men. In this company there sat a desert-dwelling monk of small stature, in an old garment, who by his wise conversation brought all his listeners to such a state that they did not know how to answer him. The captain himself related: "We were speechless fools before him!"

Father Herman gave them all one common question: "What do you, gentlemen, love above all, and what would each of you wish for his happiness?" Diverse answers followed. One desired wealth, one glory, one a beautiful wife, one a fine ship which he should command, and so on in this fashion. "Is it not true," said Father Herman at this, "that all your various desires can be reduced to one - that each of you desires that which, in his understanding, he considers best and most worthy of love?" "Yes, it is so," they all replied. "Well, then, tell me," he continued, "can there be anything better, higher above everything, more surpassing everything and in general more worthy of love, than our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, who created us, perfectly adorned us, gave life to all, supports all, nourishes and loves all, who Himself is love and more excellent than all men? Should not a person then love God high above all and desire and seek Him more than all else?" All began to say: "Well, yes! That is understood! That speaks for itself!"

"And do you love God?" the Elder then asked. All replied: "Of course, we love God. How can one not love God?" "And I, sinful one, for more than forty years have been striving to love God, and cannot say that I perfectly love Him," answered Father Herman; then he began to show how a person should love God. "If we love someone," he said, "we always think of him, strive to please him, day and night our heart is occupied with this subject. Is it thus that you, gentlemen, love God? Do you often turn to Him, do you always think of Him, do you always pray to Him, and fulfill His holy commandments?" It had to be acknowledged that they did not! "For our good, for our happiness," concluded the Elder, "at least let us make a promise to ourselves, that from this day, from this hour, from this very moment we shall strive to love God above all, and fulfill His holy will!"

(http://www.fatheralexander.org/booklets/english/herman.htm)

How do you respond to those who say that Christ the Miracle-worker cannot fit into our logic? Simply reply: Fit yourself into His logic. In His logic, all eternity fits and all the nobleness of time--and so, if you wish, a place will be found even for you. If a barrel cannot fit into a thimble, you can fit a thimble into a barrel. Blessed Clement of Alexandria says: "Philosophers are children until they become men through Christ. For truth is never merely thinking." Christ came to correct man and, therefore, man's logic. His is our Logos and our Logic. That is why we must direct our reason toward Him and not Him toward our reason. He is the One Who corrects our reason. The sun is not regulated according to our clock, but our clock is regulated according to the sun.

From the Prologue today (Jan 15/2).