Sunday March 27, 2005 
|
|
|
All
|
Holes in the Water
|
Non Sequitur
|
Sun
|
The Orthodox Church
|
What's in the CD player?
|
What's in the DVD player?
|
What's on the bookshelf?
Sunday March 27, 2005 A joyous Easter to my brethren and sistern who celebrate the feast today, on March 27. For us Orthodox, however, this is only the Second Sunday of Lent, on which we celebrate the memory of St. Gregory Palamas. Easter, for us, falls this year on May 1 -- five weeks away. For more information on how the Church calendar works, check out this article on Dating Pascha in the Orthodox Church by Dr. Lewis J. Patsavos, Professor of Canon Law at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology, or this article on The Date of Pascha by Fr. Nabil Hanna. You can also read Dr. Patsavos's article on The Calendar of the Orthodox Church, which is broader in scope. Catholic and Protestant friends, party on! Orthodox friends, back to the mujadara... (2005-03-27 12:59:45.0) Permalink Comments [0]
Wednesday March 23, 2005 Rich Burridge has a great entry in his blog about the Royal College of Art project to carpe London with life-sized sculptures illustrating the ten primary attributes of Solaris 10. Read all about it -- and kudos to Fiona for a brilliant piece of non-traditional marketing, perfectly executed. (2005-03-23 09:26:47.0) Permalink Comments [0] Fr. Maximos tells Markides: "We lost the knowledge of God at the moment when we transformed the Ecclesia [Church] from experience into theology, from a living reality into moralistic principles, good values, and high ideals. When that happened," Fr. Maximos said humorously, "we became like tin cans with nothing inside." (p. 55) Perhaps this explains my discomfort with the "Christian Right", and my concern that they are often neither one nor the other. Fr. Maximos continued: "Learn how to accept sorrows as divine gifts, including personal failures. Through experiences of grief human beings have the opportunity to place the stone of their heart into a grinder and turn it into dust. They must go through these sorrows of the heart. Through grief they may come out victorious. Life itself is a form of askesis [ascetical effort]. People just don't recognize it and lose heart." "What does not kill me gives me strength," [Markides] muttered, quoting the well-known aphorism. "Right," Fr. Maximos replied and nodded. [Markides] was almost certain that he had never heard of Nietzche. (p. 60) I'm almost certain neither of them have ever heard of Conan the Barbarian. :) And Fr. Maximos tells a story of his own spiritual father, the Elder Paisios: "One day old Paisios was visited in his remote hermitage by a group of five obnoxious young men, full of pride and arrogance. He patiently spent several hours showing them extra attention. But a theology teacher who was present became irritable and impatient. 'How could you tolerate them?' he asked him. And the elder replied, 'Have you ever wondered how God could tolerate you?'" Now there's something to noodle on this Lent... (2005-03-23 07:59:25.0) Permalink Comments [0]
Tuesday March 22, 2005 Kyriacos Markides: The Mountain of Silence At the recommendation of my friend Mike Christakis, I'm starting off this Lent reading Kyriacos Markides's account of his "search for Orthodox spirituality", to quote the sub-title. I'm only part-way through, but so far, it has been an enlightening journey (for both him and me). One of the conversations he records in Chapter 3, while engaging in its own right, seemed particularly germane in light of the turmoil swirling around poor Terri Schiavo, as the federal government -- all three branches, in fact -- struggle to find the elusive "right thing to do." Markides recounts a dialogue between Thomas, his neighbor on Cyprus, and Fr. Maximos, the spiritual father (or elder, gerontas in Greek) who is guiding the author on his quest. Thomas's secular sensibilities are upset by the monastic life of renunciation, and he questions Fr. Maximos on the value of such a life. I hope the author will pardon this long citation: Thomas... asked thoughtfully whether it was worthwhile for someone to abandon wordly activities and join a monastery. "If yes, then a parent can say, 'Okay, it is worth the sacrifice on the part of our family to have our son or daughter living in a monastery. But if it is in vain, why should my child waste her life like that?'" "This question is answered by the very life of nuns, monks, and hermits," Father Maximos replied. "If we monks could not find a realization of our expectations here, do you think it would be possible for us to stay and carry on with this austere and deprived existence? What would be the purpose of it? Take me for example. I was eighteen years old when I became a monk. Being a monk does not mean that you do not have the normal urges of a man. You also wish to live with a woman, to go out and enjoy life as it is commonly understood. You have all the sexual urges that everybody else has, and like everybody else you would like someday to get married and have a family. Becoming a monk does not mean you have automatically transcended your human desires and ambitions." "Yet, another power pulls you in the opposite direction and that is the experience of the Christ. When we enter the monastery we wonder, 'Am I going to find what I am looking for?' Or just forget it, get this black cassock off, find a woman, marry, have children and live like any other ordinary human being? A monk owns nothing, not a single penny. Yet, we stay. And not only that, we are attracted to this life. It fills us with enchantment and it revitalizes us even after twenty, thirty, or forty years have passed since the time we started on this path. I meet some old monks in their eighties who are still enthusiastic about the monastic life. I have been a monk for twenty years and I have never, not for a single day, felt tired of this lifestyle. I have never experienced boredom, never had any doubts about whether I made the right decision to become a monk. Never! I feel as if my life is a continuous motion in the direction of Christ. I found what I was looking for. Had it not been so then neither I nor the other monks would have remained in the monastery. It would have been absolutely foolish and meaningless. Why should we undergo all this deprivation? Wouldn't I be an idiot to do all these things without some concrete spiritual gain? Therefore the answer to your question is our very life. Each one of us is the answer." pp. 35-36 St. Seraphim of Sarov uses the image of commercial trading to describe the Christian life.* We trade in exchange for something of tangible value. Fr. Maximos's comments on the monastic life -- which is only, in the end, an extreme pursuit of the same spiritual life we all seek -- point to the tangible value of that life to its adherents. If we aren't actually receiving something of more value than what we give up in exchange for it, we would be idiots, to use his word, to persist. "Let me ask you another question," Thomas continues. "Who is more useful to society, a doctor or a monk?" Father Maximos grinned and sighed. "I have been asked this question before. What does monasticism offer to society? Well, this question is characteristic of a modern way of thinking. It is an activist orientation toward the world. Every act, every person, is judged on the basis of their utility and contribution to the whole. Parents urge their children to excel so that they may be useful to society. Based on our spiritual tradition I prefer to see human beings first and foremost in terms of who they are and only after that in terms of their contributions to society. Otherwise we run the risk of turning people into machines that produce useful things. So what if you do not produce useful things? Does that mean that you should be discarded as a useless object? I am afraid that with this orientation contemporary humanity has undermined the inherent value of the human person. Today we value ourselves in terms of how much we contribute rather than in terms of who we are. And that attitude toward ourselves often leads to all sorts of psychological problems. I see this all the time during confessions." p. 36 And thinking of Terri Schiavo, while I believe that the judicial processes she has enjoyed (endured?) thus far came to a reasonable conclusion -- obviating the obvious political grandstanding of the legislative and executive branches "on her behalf" -- yet I see the pictures of her and wonder if the decision to withdraw her life support is being made on the basis of utility, on the basis of what she can contribute, vs. who she is. She lives, she breathes -- she cannot feed herself. Many others, we would sustain in those same circumstances, without a moment's hesitation. God help her and her family.
---------- "In acquiring this Spirit of God consists the true aim of our Christian life, while prayer, vigil, fasting, almsgiving and other good works done for Christ's sake are merely means for acquiring the Spirit of God." "What do you mean by acquiring?" I asked Father Seraphim. "Somehow I don't understand that." "Acquiring is the same as obtaining," he replied. "You understand, of course, what acquiring money means? Acquiring the Spirit of God is exactly the same. You know well enough what it means in a worldly sense, your Godliness, to acquire. The aim in life of ordinary worldly people is to acquire or make money, and for the nobility it is in addition to receive honours, distinctions and other rewards for their services to the government. The acquisition of God's Spirit is also capital, but grace-giving and eternal, and it is obtained in very similar ways, almost the same ways as monetary, social and temporal capital. (2005-03-22 10:34:16.0) Permalink Comments [1]
Sunday March 13, 2005 Each year, as the Orthodox Church stands at the very threshold of Great Lent, we hear these words from Jesus's Sermon on the Mount: If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. Moreover, when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. -- Matthew 6:14-21 The Sunday of Forgiveness takes its name from the first verse in this passage. And therefore, at the conclusion of Vespers on this day, the Church prescribes a unique ritual: everyone in the church, from the oldest priest to the youngest child, bows down before everyone else -- one at a time -- and asks forgiveness of the other. "Forgive me," implores the one; "God forgives," responds the other, embracing and exchanging two or three kisses of peace -- and then they reverse parts, so that everyone has both asked forgiveness of, and forgiven everyone else, everyone has bowed down in front of everyone else, everyone has embraced everyone else. And all the while, the hymns (canon) of Pascha are being quietly chanted in the background. So does the Orthodox Church enter the season of Great Lent. So the obvious question is, what if I haven't done anything (bad) to the other person? What am I asking their forgiveness for? And why are they asking forgiveness of me? This is a close cousin to the other obvious question, why do I need to go to confession if I don't have anything to confess? It turns out these questions share a common answer. Think back to last week's lesson. Recall that the last judgment itself is based on six simple questions:
1. Did we give food to the hungry? And note that all of these questions regard, not what evil things we did, but what good things we failed to do. If we examine our lives and our hearts, which the disciplines of Lent allow and encourage us to do, not many of us stand guiltless in this regard. And then look again at last week's reading, and recognize that "inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me", and "inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me." (Matthew 25:40, 45) What we do, or fail to do, for each other, we do or fail to do for God Himself. We sin against God in sinning against each other. And the converse is equally true. Because we share one common human nature, and in the Church, as we form together the Body of Christ (as St. Paul writes in Romans 12:5, "we, being many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another"), what we do, or fail to do, for God, we do or fail to do for each other. We sin against each other in sinning against God. The victimless crime where "no one got hurt", the private sin in which "no harm was done", is simply a fantasy, an illusion. I could be alone on a desert island and sin there in my solitude -- and I would be sinning against all of you, and in need not only of God's forgiveness, but of yours. And the converse holds true, which is why we offer forgiveness on this day even to those we are meeting for the first time. And so on this day, as a token of what I should be doing every day, from my heart, I ask your forgiveness for everything I have done that I should not have done, and for the much longer list of things I should have done that I failed to do. Whether we know each other or not. Whether or not we've ever met. And from my heart, I share with you God's forgiveness and assure you of my own, in a virtual embrace and kiss of peace. Perhaps the first time this has ever been done by blog. :) And in our minds and hearts, may we hear the words of the Paschal verses: This is the day of Resurrection; let us be illumined by the Feast, let us embrace each other! Let us call "brother" even those who hate us, and forgive all by the Resurrection. And so let us cry: "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!" (2005-03-13 13:57:19.0) Permalink Comments [0]
Saturday March 12, 2005
Randall Rothenberg: Where The Suckers Moon
This splendid book was an early Christmas gift from Brian Nienhaus and my friends at Grey|San Francisco. Randall Rothenberg was an embedded reporter before the phrase was coined, chronicling in detail the brief but intense relationship between Subaru of America and their advertising agency, Wieden & Kennedy. Despite the subtitle, telling the story of W&K's "What to Drive" campaign is only half the point of the book, serving as the framework around which Rothenberg delivers a detailed history of the advertising industry and the entrepreneurial personalities who built it. Grey Advertising, for example, was founded by two men named Larry Valenstein and Arthur Fatt, who believed that de-emphasizing their ethnic roots would enable them to grow beyond the bounds of the New York garment district where, unlike most everywhere else, Jewish agencies could be employed. He tells the colorful story of Subaru of America, founded by Philaelphia furniture-man Harvey Lamm, whose original goal was to import a tiny, ugly car from Japan, and sell the 71 inch wheelbase, 360cc, 25 horsepower vehicle -- the feds classified it as a covered motorcycle rather than a car, since it weighed in at under 1,000 pounds -- for $1,297. Zero to fifty in 37.5 seconds, but 66 miles to the gallon! And he traces the development of Fuji Heavy Industries, which started out in the world as the manufacturer of the Zero fighter, deployed with such deadly effect in World War II. Broken up by the allied authorities after the war, five of the constituent companies were eventually permitted to reunite; their corporate symbol, five small stars linked to a bigger star, represents the constellation we call the Pleiades -- in Japanese, "Subaru", which means "unite". Did you know that Subaru is properly pronounced with the emphasis on the second syllable -- soo-BAR-oo -- and that an advertising exec, Paula Green, believing it sounded too foreign for the American market, took it upon herself to change the pronunciation, leading a room full of dealers to chant "One, two, soo-ba-ROO"? Read this rich, detailed, and informative book, and you'll learn this and much more. It will totally hook you on -- or turn you off of -- an incredible industry. As for me, I'm lovin' it. Brian, Betsy, Yumi -- thanks for the education!
---------- (2005-03-12 06:45:04.0) Permalink Comments [1]
Saturday March 05, 2005 The Sunday of The Last Judgment Each year, as the Orthodox Church prepares to enter the season of Great Lent, we hear, from St. Matthew's gospel, Jesus's account of the last judgment: "When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats. And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.'" "Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?' And the King will answer and say to them, 'Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.'" "Then He will also say to those on the left hand, 'Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you gave Me no drink; I was a stranger and you did not take Me in, naked and you did not clothe Me, sick and in prison and you did not visit Me.'" "Then they also will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?' Then He will answer them, saying, 'Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.' And these will go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into eternal life." -- Matthew 25:31-46 A sermon on this theme is practically superfluous. I can give a good one in four words: "No, He's not kidding." Okay, here's another one: "Yes, He is serious." It's that simple because the judgment itself is that simple, based on six simple questions:
1. Did we give food to the hungry? The simplicity of this judgment would be apparent to the rural Palestinians to whom Jesus was speaking. Sheep and goats are separated because, at night, the sheep like to sleep outside in the fresh air; the goats, without the thick coats, prefer the warmth of a cave. Sheep are valuable; goats are not. Sheep are white; goats are black. It is literally a black and white decision. The one un-simple question is why? Why would such an important (and eternal) thing like the judgment rest on six questions? And why on these six questions in particular? It is -- simply -- because, as St. John writes in his first epistle, "God is love." (1 John 4:8) And having been created in His image and likeness (Gen. 1:26-27), that love is in us. Moreover, that love has been renewed in us, poured out on us, every day of our lives. And the love of God -- and this is critical -- isn't puppy love. It isn't Valentine's Day love, or Senior Prom love, or staring dreamily into each other's eyes love. The love of God sacrifices that which is dearest to it in favor of the beloved. It was this love that caused Abraham to bind Isaac, his son, his only son, whom he loved, to an altar of wood, in order (had God not interceded) to offer him up as a burnt offering. (Genesis 22:1-19) It was this love that held Jesus to the cross. Do you think a few iron nails could have held the Son of God to a piece of wood? He who created both the iron and the wood out of nothing? "Our God," writes St. Paul in the Epistle to the Hebrews, "is a consuming fire." (Hebrews 12:29) And if "God is love", then this love is a consuming fire. If this love is in us, then we are on fire. And, on the last day, when God is revealed as "all in all" (1 Cor. 15:28), when the consuming fire of His love is engulfing us, one of two things can happen. If we are on fire with it ourselves, then we have returned to that from which we were made: we are in paradise; we are in heaven; we are home. But if, on the other hand, we have allowed that fire within us to go out, if it has been extinguished by disdain and neglect and the passage of time, then... well, what happens when you cast a piece of cold, dead driftwood into a blazing fire? Great for fire; not so good for the driftwood. It is, in the end, really that simple. Six simple questions. Four simple words. "Yes, He is serious." "No, He's not kidding." (2005-03-05 09:34:22.0) Permalink Comments [12] Check the archives for entries dating back to the dawn of recorded history (June 14, 2004). |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
